Prologue

                Zhawn closed his eyes, savoring the delicate caress of sea breeze and the scent of salty water. The ship was rocking to the rhythm of the waves, gently carrying him toward his homeland. Zhawn’s golden eyes fluttered open as another scent joined that of the sea.

                “Kal Laismarr,” Zhawn said the name of his home when he saw the distant cliffs of Karhadon emerge from the thick fog. The sailors rolled the sail and grabbed the paddles, carefully leading the swift corvette between the treacherous rocks. The land was getting closer, yet the mist made it look like a mere illusion.

                “How does it feel to see your home?” Zhawn’s companion, a woman named Nesrin, combed her white hair with her long, pale fingers, looking at him expectantly. The breeze was playing with her unpigmented locks, making them dance around her slender frame. The strange color of her hair contrasted with her youthful, ageless face. It was impossible to tell if Zhawn’s companion was a young girl or a mature woman.

                “How many years passed since I left?” he ignored Nesrin’s question.

                The woman huffed, showing she was displeased by such treatment and set her bright, blue eyes on him, serious expression on her face.

                “Eighty years,” she replied; a playful smile appeared on her pale lips. “Much has happened during this time. I was here before; I know all the answers for the questions you wished to ask me during the entire voyage.”

                Zhawn set his gaze on the waves beating against the corvette’s prow. He wanted to know; he needed to find out what happened while he was… away. And yet, he hesitated; he was battling with his thoughts for weeks now, afraid that the answer might prove itself devastating.

                He clutched the railing tighter and glared at Nesrin; the intense look in his golden eyes made her smile to falter.

                “Tell me, Nesrin, where is Kaellach?” he asked, hatred filling his voice as he said the name of the man who was his sworn enemy and who used to be his closest friend.

                “Much has happened since eighty years ago,” Nesrin sighed. “Kaellach is dead.”

                Zhawn looked at the white-haired woman sharply.

                “Dead? How?” he asked, careful to keep his voice emotionless.

                Nesrin smiled widely as though his reaction amused her greatly.

                “Eighty years ago, right after the battle,” she answered. “King Kaellach was the strongest of his clan, but it seems his unwavering trust in his allies was his demise – the humans that fought alongside him betrayed him and ended his life.”

                “Pathetic,” Zhawn commented, observing the waves crash against the ship furiously as though they were trying to protect the shores of Kal Laismarr from Zhawn’s corvette. “And his family?”

                Nesrin sighed heavily, casually resting her bare elbows on the railing.

                “Kaellach’s family?" The white-haired woman made a dramatic pause, enjoying every second of Zhawn’s anticipation. “Most of the clan was wiped out not long after his death. Perhaps his son is still alive.”

                Nesrin peeked at her superior, curiously searching for any kind of reaction. However, Zhawn’s face was hidden by a hood, and even if it wasn’t, she was sure he would never betray his thoughts.

                “Nesrin, once we reach the shores of Karhadon, find him,” Zhawn commanded. The white-haired woman nodded and backed away from the railing, about to return to the cabin below the deck.

                “You asked how I feel about returning home.” Zhawn’s words made Nesrin still. The golden-eyed man smiled bitterly. “Like a man who is about to drown the whole Kal Laismarr in blood.”

The Mirror

Baltimore, Maryland

                May Lawson bumped into the doorframe as she steered toward the kitchen, book in her hand. Not averting her gaze from the text, she managed to locate the chair and sit down. She shoved the box of her sister’s favorite cereal aside, making space for the book. Still reading, May reached for the bowl.

                “Hey! That’s mine!” Hailey, her younger sister protested, glaring at May.

                May mumbled something inaudible, not affected by the commotion in the kitchen at all when she was finishing reading. When she read the last paragraph, she took her eyes off the book and put it away, thinking that it was a nice way to start her first day of the summer break. She lifted her head and saw that apparently a little apocalypse came today.

                “Richard, did you pack your toothbrush?” Nancy Lawson, May’s mom, asked in her usual demanding tone.

                “Of course, dear,” May’s dad answered meekly, opening his suitcase and checking if he packed that toothbrush indeed – after all no one wanted to cross his wife. May’s mom was looming above him like an executioner, her blue eyes cold and unforgiving.

                “Better check if you have everything, I don’t want to have to buy you socks in London,” May’s mom nagged, her voice threatening.

                May sighed, observing her parents. Her poor dad was nearly cowering in fear before his wife while the mom kept giving him orders, another normal day in the life of the Lawson family. The contrast between the pair was impossible not to notice – May’s dad was a chubby, plain-looking man with glasses whereas her mother was a killer beauty with her perfect silhouette, blonde hair and exceptionally pretty face.

                May’s parents were about to head to London for a week and the summer morning had been turned into a hectic hell. Richard Lawson was about to lead some important conference and May’s mom was accompanying him as to support him and to control his expenses.  May’s dad, an accomplished history professor, was an absent-minded person, focused on his work and passion for collecting antiques – something his more level-headed wife wasn’t very fond of and was just about to remind him of it.

                “I swear, if you buy any more trash, Richard, you’ll regret it,” Nancy hissed out when the doorbell rang.

                May’s dad flashed a shy smile which conveyed the message “I apologize for living” and rushed to collect the package. Nancy Lawson huffed, annoyed, and proceeded with ordering her family members around.

                “Hailey, please eat proper breakfasts and don’t eat too many snacks. Mrs. Hatchets will pop in order to check on you, so be nice to her,” May’s mom offered her younger daughter a smile which vanished instantly when she looked at her husband, who was dawdling in the corridor. Her red high heels clicked as she went to inspect the newest delivery.

                “Richard!” May winced, hearing her mother’s furious scream. “What’s the meaning of this? Why did you buy so many antiques? What are you doing? Leave it, don’t unpack it! We don’t have time for this now,”

                Flushed, May’s mom marched back to the kitchen and filled Hailey’s glass with juice.

                “Hailey, stay at home in the evenings, don’t invite your boyfriend while we’re gone and rest a bit, you deserve it,” May’s mom smiled warmly to her younger daughter, combing Hailey’s blonde locks with her fingers.

                May’s mom scanned the kitchens for the survivors who didn’t get scolded yet. Her gaze slid over her husband and Hailey who was looking like an angel right now to stop on the one person who escaped her attention this morning – her older daughter May who seemed to possess a mystical gift of invisibility and was surprisingly easy to overlook. Nancy Lawson approached her daughter like a hawk who had just spotted its prey.

                “May, I think you should use this summer break to study hard. If you are to get the scholarship and go to Harvard you’ll have to try harder during your senior year. Take your sister’s example; she’s so young and smart already,” May’s mom said harshly.

                “Yes, mom,” May replied in a monotone voice as a vision of grim future flashed in her mind – the prospect of studying instead of relaxing and simply having fun wasn’t what she had hoped for this summer. However, she was already used to the pressure to be the best and being compared with Hailey all the time.

                May could never compete with her younger sister, no matter how hard she tried. Not that May was lacking in intelligence - quite the opposite. She always scored the best marks in the class and worked harder than anybody else at the expense of her social life; however, Hailey was better. She was three years younger, but she had skipped a grade, took part in national competitions, was even a member of Mensa. She never failed to accomplish effortlessly whatever caught her fancy, while the same things cost May hard work. Hailey was the pride and joy of their family, and May was the other one, always second best.

                Hailey was the perfect daughter, the little prodigy who had the looks, outgoing personality, wonderful friends and even a boyfriend. Everyone seemed to adore her. May tried to be proud of her sister’s accomplishments, but she couldn’t help but to be jealous.

                “Hailey, dear, guess what?” May’s mom asked the younger of girls. “We’ll buy you a new violin in London.”

                “Oh, mommy, you’re the best!” Hailey exclaimed, her sapphire blue eyes sparkling with joy.

                May sighed, frustrated, seeing Hailey and mom fuss over the new violin.

                “Nancy, I believe we have to leave already,” May’s dad called from the corridor and stepped into the kitchen to say good-byes. Nancy Lawson planted kisses on Hailey’s both cheeks and ruffled May’s short, brown hair hastily before grabbing her suitcases. May’s Dad hugged his younger daughter awkwardly and waved to May.

                “May,” he addressed his older daughter. May lifted her head, gazing at his father with hope he would wish her good luck or say he was proud of her achievements. “Unpack the boxes from the corridor. Be careful – some of those contain very valuable antiques. You know how I want them to be catalogued, right?”

                The girl nodded; her face turned into a poker mask and her hand frozen in midair. Soon enough the door slammed shut and as soon as the parent’s car left the driveway, Hailey made a beeline for the table. Just when May opened her book again, ignoring her sister making a mess with her breakfast. She arched her eyebrow, seeing Hailey skip toward the mirror and critically examining her appearance, frowning with dissatisfaction at her still small breasts.

                May straightened her back, looking at her sister who was just flipping her long, blonde hair, as though she was in a shampoo commercial. May and Hailey were siblings, but they were polar opposites – May’s younger sister resembled their mother so much that May began suspecting that she could be a clone; tall and slim, stunningly beautiful,  blue-eyed  Hailey was entrancing everyone with her exceptionally good looks.

                May could be considered quite pretty, but compared to her mother and sister, she seemed to be terribly plain. Her face rarely caught passerby’s attention, and she wasn’t skinny and tall like a model. Having inherited her dad’s perfectly ordinary looks, May never stood out in the crowd of other seventeen-year-old  high school girls.

                The sole things she really liked about her appearance were her green eyes. Her brown hair always seemed to have a mind of its own, refusing to look presentable, so it was shoulder length. Her height was sometimes bothersome too – being shorter than most of her peers, May often got teased when she was younger.

                May observed Hailey march into the living room to seize the TV and decided to move from behind the table to get done with unpacking the delivery.

                The sooner the better.

                “Oh no, not again,” May whined when she saw the corridor. The door was barely visible to behind the boxes of all sizes and shapes. It seemed that her dad went on an antique shopping spree. Actually, May understood why mom despised dad’s hobby so much – not only it consumed over half of family’s earnings, but there was barely enough space in the house for all the new acquirements.

                May began opening the boxes, having decided to unpack everything first and then carry the antiques to the basement. The girl looked at the multitude of packages and afterwards in the direction of the living room.

                “Hailey, come here and help me!” she called, but there was no response. “Hailey!”

                “What?!” A rude response from the couch in the living room came. May rolled her eyes.

                “Lend me a hand with dad’s stuff, will you?” she called.

                Hailey turned the TV off and marched down the corridor. She rested her hands on her hips, glaring at May from above; even though she was three years younger, Hailey was already taller than her older sister.

                “I’m tired,” she said, shamelessly faking yawning. “Anyway, dad told that you should take care of his stuff, and I should rest. Now don’t bother me when I’m resting.”

                May looked at her sharply and grabbed Hailey’s shoulder when the younger girl was about.

                “Don’t even think about wriggling out of this,” she said, pointing at the boxes. “Help me or I won’t cook you anything for the entire week.”

                Hailey’s blue eyes widened when she heard the ultimatum. May’s face was serious – she had no intention of giving into  her sister’s whims this time, although usually she had to since dad and mom kept defending Hailey.

                “If you do that, mom will ground you for a month,” Hailey retorted, but the unsure look on her face betrayed that she wasn’t too confident.

                “Fine by me.” May shrugged her shoulders; after all, she’d be stuck at home studying anyway.

                Hailey bit her lower lip, weighing her options, the battle between a week without dinners versus an hour of effort raging in her mind.

                “Okay,” she grunted eventually and got to work, huffing angrily when she saw May’s triumphant smirk.

                The both girls were unpacking the various items from the boxes, wondering why their dad would need most of them. The oriental vase was truly beautiful, but the African sculpture was hideous. Richard Lawson had a weak spot for various items connected to occult and foreign religions. The antiques came from all over the world and May suspected that they were a substitute for traveling – her dad always wanted to visit the historical sites, but his wife consistently denied it.

                “If a vampire got into our house, the poor guy wouldn’t stand a chance,” May stated, discovering that one of the boxes contained over twenty different crosses.

                “What’s that?” Hailey asked, holding up an artwork which looked like it had been painted by Picasso on a bad day. May shrugged.

                “No idea, check this out,” she said, showing Hailey a long parcel which turned out to hide a genuine sword in its sheath. The weapon was orange from rust; the elaborate decorative pattern was barely visible now.

                “Is it sharp?” Hailey asked. May smiled – she wanted to find it out too. She pulled the handle, but the sword didn’t budge. No matter how hard she tried the blade refused to leave the sheath. Hailey sighed, disappointed. “It’s because of rust.”

                The younger of the girls took a piece of paper packed together with the sword and winced.

                “Gosh, what a waste,” she said after she read the price. She looked a look at the other information. “Country of origin: Ireland. History… let’s see… it says here that someone killed a dragon with this piece of rust.”

                May smiled.

                “A dragon, huh? I think it was rather someone’s mother-in-law,” she commented, putting the heavy sword aside and reached into yet another box. She opened it with the knife and took the document with price and description of the item while Hailey reached inside to remove the bubble wrap.

                “Country of origin: Norway. History… now that is interesting. Listen to this, Hailey,” she read, smiling. “According to the description it’s some mystical mirror. It is said to have the  power to switch souls of two people if they glance into the mirror at the same time. Even so, it will only work if the people have the similar souls. I don’t quite get it.”

                Hailey put a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear.

                “I think it’s like the Everett interpretation,” she said, leaving the rest of the bubble wrap in the box.

                “What?” May asked, not knowing what Hailey meant.

                “Everett's interpretation, you know, the many-world interpretation?” Hailey looked at May expectedly, but when the older of girls  was still staring blankly at her, she decided to give a more thorough explanation. “I guess that talking about quantum mechanics would be pointless, so I’ll explain it to you in a more science-fiction fashion. It’s about the parallel universes, different dimensions, that kind of stuff. For example, in another universe you could be born in Britain. So, if you from here and you from Britain looked into the mirror in the same time, you would switch souls.”

                “And you’d get a sister who would be talking with a funny accent,” May said, more or less understanding. Hailey nodded.

                “Right, I think that it should work that way. However, if it did, we could sell the mirror and buy an island,” she said, looking with distrust at the parcel which still waited to be unpacked. “Maybe I’ll go make a sandwich.”

                May smirked, seeing her younger sister move away from the supposedly mystical mirror.

                “Are you scared that your soul will be switched?” May teased. Hailey flushed as though she had just been caught red-handed.

                “Don’t be stupid, May!” she exclaimed, crossing her arms on her chest and pouting childishly. “I’m not superstitious. However, if it works, you won’t be missed, unlike me.”

                May clenched her teeth, glaring at her younger sister who, smirking mockingly, skipped to the kitchen to raid the fridge.

                “Brat,” May commented and reached for the mirror. She removed all the bubble wrap and looked at the antique looking glass curiously. She shook her head, amused by Hailey’s reaction. The mirror had a strange pentagonal shape, but other than that it was perfectly normal and non-magical.

                May flipped the mirror over and examined it. Its shape was odd; it was of a rather medium size, with a plain wooden frame and seemingly old. May took a breath and looked at her reflection. Of course, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. The mirror showed what she expected to see - her own plain face staring back. The same green eyes, the same slightly too wide nose, which wasn’t her favorite part of her face, the same childish cheeks and the same brown hair. The same… only longer. Shocked, May looked once more.

                There was no doubt! The May that was reflected in the mirror had long hair, much past her shoulders, though she could not say how long exactly. The girl felt something welling up in her stomach. The mirror reflected the sheer terror on her face. She tried to toss out the mirror, and scream for Hailey, but her voice wouldn’t come out; her body was frozen. She desperately tried to loosen her grip on the mirror’s frame, but she couldn’t move them. It was either the fear that had paralyzed her or some unknown force that didn’t want to allow her to avert her gaze from the mirror. She couldn’t do anything as her surroundings started to blur. It felt like the world was disappearing, or perhaps  she was.

                May had her gaze still fixed on the face in the mirror, staring in horror at the same face as her own, but somehow another’s. She observed as the reflection returned to normal, her reflection’s hair becoming shorter, like her own. The world around her was beginning to look more real and not so blurred anymore. May took a deep gasping breath, realizing that she must have been holding it, and finally managed to flex her fingers. The mirror fell on the floor. Her knees bent under, and she had to use her hands to prevent her face from meeting ground. She gasped in shock as her long hair fell like a curtain around her, and then she drifted into the unconsciousness, limply falling to the floor.

Maewyn

Elsewhere

                “Lady,” a maidservant called.

                “You may come in,” a quiet, demure voice said. The maidservant opened the door and came in, bowing deeply.

                Inside sat a young noblewoman, the Lady of the respectable Thoen family, Maewyn. She looked as if she was deep in thought. Her long brown hair, now undone, fell softly around her reaching to the floor as she sat on a cushion. Her green eyes had a slightly melancholic look in them. The Lady was adorned with a multi-layered dress made of the finest silk looking every inch of her status. She looked at the maidservant, who was still bowing in front of her. The Lady smiled gently and told the woman in her sweet voice to face her.

                “What brings you here, Astrid?” Meawyn asked.

                The young servant gasped as she heard her name being remembered by the Lady... The woman held out a package. Lady Meawyn glanced at it curiously.

                “What would that be?” she asked.

                “My Lady,”  the woman called Astrid answered. “It was sent by lord Abrran to Lady Maewyn as a gift to commemorate the engagement.”

                A blush begun to show on Lady Maewyn’s face as, she cautiously took the package that was handed over to her. Lord Abrran was the man she was going to marry in a matter of weeks; the man to whom she would pledge loyalty and love; the man who would become the father of her children. Her destiny, her everything. She couldn’t wait to be married to him. That was the purpose of her life – to become the wife of such a powerful man, and she would more than glad to accept it.

                Maewyn held the package closest to her heart, wondering what gift her beloved Lord had sent her. Her heart was beating faster as the maidservant took her leave. Once the servants were dismissed for the night, she stood up and sat on the edge of the large bed, anticipating to see the gift.

                The Lady began to unwrap the package. Inside was a plain-looking mirror. Maewyn was a bit disappointed but told herself that the gift was given from the bottom of the heart, so it shouldn’t be judged. She held the mirror in front of her face, glancing at her own reflection. Suddenly, the Lady stiffened. It was not her reflection. From the mirror, another person was looking at her. She had her face, but she was not here. The other one had noticeably shorter hair, like some village girl, not the knee-length Lady’s tresses, and she didn’t have the royal air about her, like Maewyn.

                “Lord Abrran,” the Lady whispered, horrified, “Why would you send me a demon sealed in a mirror? Why?”

                That was Maewyn’s last thought before she slipped into unconsciousness.

The Lady

                May slowly opened her eyes and sat up. She felt like crap, her whole body aching all over. Rubbing her eyes she looked around. It took a while for her eyesight to adjust to the dimness of the room, though the oil lamps hanging on the wall shed enough light to see everything around her well.

                Gazing around her, she noticed she was in a large room decorated strangely, something like a combination between a traditional Japanese home and then as if some crazy interior decorator had come in and thrown Viking sculptures in the room. She felt  like she was in a museum in some castle, perhaps an exhibition room or something. The room had very little furniture in it, just a low table with cushions instead of chairs and a large bed on a pedestal, barely visible to under the pile of  what looked to be colorful pillows. The stone walls were beautifully painted with vivid birds and cherry blossoms, and the transparent curtains billowed in the wind, which invaded the chamber from outside. The bed, where May was lying, was of a very  impressive size, even though the girl had to share it with at least thirty pillows. What was this place? Why was she here?

                Suddenly, May paled as she remembered what happened earlier in her house.

                The mirror.

                May felt a shiver go down her spine, and her body stiffen in horror.

                This must be a dream. I was just so tired from all the work and must have fallen asleep. Just a dream, nothing to worry about… I’ll wake up in a minute or so.

                She repeated the mantra in her head. The girl  sat  on the bed motionlessly; her breathing quickened, and her heart began to pound faster with every passing second. Her  palms began shaking  and sweating as the disturbing image refused to go away no matter how many times she blinked her eyes. To make matters worse, the longer she stared at everything,  the more real it seemed. May could now clearly make out  every detail of the foreign chamber and felt the  too actual light drafts upon her face. Her clothes rustled, as the wind moved the fabric. Every sensation was so real… she never had a dream like this. May reached with a  trembling hand to her cheek and pinched it, praying  to wake up from the nightmare...

                “Ouch!” she hissed from the pain. Her heart was now pumping the blood at such a high speed that her ears felt like they were going to explode.  Panic began overpowering her brain, when a disturbing suspicion crept into her mind.

                What if I’m awake?

                Slowly, as if in a trance, the girl reached for her hair and discovered that it was very long, running far past her waist. She grabbed a handful of it, pulled forcefully and winced from the pain – there was no doubt – it wasn’t a wig. May’s eyes widened, as she came to the realization.

                “It’s not a dream,” May whispered in shock. What was going on?

                She felt a growing sensation of panic settle into her stomach, but she refused to lose her cool. She had to find that cursed mirror – whatever had happened, it began after she had looked into the mirror. She scanned the room with her eyes and found it. There it was! Resting on a desk. May got up to reach for it and nearly fell onto the floor. Angrily, she looked down and noticed that she wasn’t wearing her summer clothes anymore, instead she was dressed in some fancy gown – many layers of one, actually. It resembled the outfits she saw in movies about the Middle Ages in China though it had a definite European influence with the corset, which made it hard to breathe...

                This has got to be some joke; she thought and waddled over to the mirror. She grabbed it quickly and gave it her best threatening glare, willing it to fix the situation. She wanted this awfully real-looking dream, this illusion, whatever it was, to stop. Now. May narrowed her eyes at the surface of the mirror. Nothing happened. Well, nothing except that she was able to take in her slightly different face. Aside from the long hair, her skin looked better, as though she had been using some expensive cosmetics,  and she looked like some strange princess from confused Asian-European Middle Ages with a thin golden circlet on her head.

                When she spotted a large mirror in the corner of the chamber, she rushed to it, so that she could see more of her changed self. She did a slow spin before  it to take a good look at the dress she was wearing. The silk rustled as she moved around. May outstretched her arms, staring the wide sleeves made of the several layers of the thin pink fabric. The dark-purple corset of the gown was richly embroidered with golden thread and little pearls, that created an elaborate pattern. May carefully set the mirror aside and walked over to the door, hoping to see something familiar.

                She opened it slowly, and gasped. Before her very eye was the most beautiful garden, she had ever seen – covered in colorful blooming flowers of all shades, it was as if a magical scene was unfolding before her. Despite the dim light, the colors were incredibly vibrant, being a feast to her eyes. The plants had been carefully shaped so that every single flower was a part of the gardener’s masterpiece, perfectly fitting into its right place. The bright light of the moon and stars wonderfully illuminated the area.

                The garden itself was not very spacious, as it was surrounded by brick walls, as though the architect had intended to make it a private place where no one would bother its owner. Hesitantly, May took a few steps forward, admiring the way stars were reflected in a little pond. She was so enticed by the beauty of her surroundings, that she almost forgot about panicking. Looking up, she gazed at the sky. The night sky was much brighter than expected. In fact, she had never seen; the  moon and stars  shine so intensely. She was admiring the multitude of the bright tiny dots in the sky, when an alarming feeling began creeping into her mind.

                Something was wrong. However, not wrong, as if in waking up in a strange place with long hair and fancy dress, it was something else she couldn’t put her finger on. She blinked, thinking intensely about it. Then, her eyes widened and she let out a shocked gasp.

                The stars.

                There was a fairly normal moon in  the sky, but the stars… they were different. At the first glance, they hadn't looked  suspicious, but now glancing again the constellations were all wrong. May knew most of the most basic ones from books, like Great Bear and Orion, but she couldn’t find them at this night sky. They were simply gone, replaced by some other arrangement.

                May legs gave way and she limply fell to the ground. She sat motionlessly and stared in front of her, her brain having  difficulty comprehending what was going on.

                The reality of the illusion, the pain, when she pinched herself or pulled her hair… and the stars. There was no way her mind could have devised such a crazy situation on its own. The girl covered her mouth with her hand,  feeling nauseous. Some small voice in the back of her head told her, that perhaps that she wasn't in Maryland anymore. And it also meant that she was screwed. May snorted, suddenly  feeling amused – it had to be out of fear.

                “No kidding,” she muttered.

                The girl stood up and made a series of  calming breaths. She began pacing all over the garden, as the sky began lighting up in the east and the first of the sun rays began illuminating her surroundings.

                May shook her head in disbelief, considering her options. The situation was far too freaky to be some normal dream. Either she was mentally ill or was in some freaking Narnia. Alternatively, on another planet. At the moment, she wasn’t sure which option she preferred.

She was so busy thinking, that she didn’t hear someone come into the room.

                “Lady,” a quiet, shy voice called.

                May turned around with the maximal speed that her clothes allowed, the fear swiftly returning to her chest. What she saw startled her. A woman was  groveling on the floor before her. 

                “W-What?” that was the only answer May could manage, too startled to remember about being polite.

                Lady? Is she talking to me?

                “Your father has requested your presence during the breakfast with his advisors, my Lady,” the girl on the floor said respectfully. “If you will, this is the time for you to prepare.”

                “Alright…” May agreed hesitantly, eying the woman suspiciously.

                Father? Advisors? What the hell is going on here?

                Another option popped into her head. Possibly someone was playing a joke on her, like in a TV show. Maybe she should just go along with it for a while, and then a TV crew will suddenly appear, and they’ll give her flowers or a prize or something… May’s brain conveniently ignored the issue about the different night sky, or longer hair. She definitely  liked the idea of a joke better than being mentally ill or a in a freaky Narnia land.

                May wanted to think more about the current situation, but in that very moment four women burst into the room and grabbed her. Confused, she didn’t put up any resistance. They led her to the bathing room and started undressing her. Embarrassed, the girl covered herself with her hands as much as she could. Soon May was ushered out of the tub and dried. Later, the women dressed her in far too many layers of another heavy, silk gown like the one before and brushed her hair, putting half of it up in a crown around her head with a pearl barrette. Then one of them applied makeup, and a large mirror was brought before May. At first, the girl flinched, remembering the whole mess with mirrors, but then she looked at the reflection.

                She gave a little gasp, running her hand along her face. She looked like a totally different person, like some princess from a movie or a cover of a fantasy book.

                I guess you can never underestimate the wonders of a  good spa and make-up, she told herself.

                “My Lady, it is time,” the maidservant from before said, and she showed May the way out of the room.

                May followed, unsure. She decided for now, that the maids must be hired actors, who participated in the joke. As she walked down the hallway, she admired the decorations. They must have been really expensive. The girl shook her head. She hadn’t the slightest idea what was going on, but she decided to play along and find out.

                If they wanted her to be a Lady, then she would act like one, why not, it’s not like she got to be on a prank show every day. May wondered who was behind this sick joke, which had nearly given  her a heart attack. Maybe her parents did this to make up for the missed holiday in Europe?

                She was led into the huge room where a richly-clothed man was casually striding across a spacious chamber. He looked to be around his fifties, not so tall and had a rather intimidating thick brown beard, with  eyes like her own. She didn't fail to notice, that he resembled her dad a little. She thought, that the joke must have been very expensive with all the elaborate decorations and the actors.

                “Maewyn,” the man said in a deep voice.

                May quickly looked around but saw no one but herself so he assumed the man was addressing her. She didn’t have a clue what to say. Who was he? Presumably, he acted as a relative of some sort. She decided to smile and bow slightly. Apparently, it was the right decision. The man smiled and strode towards her.

                “Are you all right, my child? You look a little pale,” he said  with worry in a voice.

                May wanted to inform him, that she was most definitely not his child and demand him to tell her what the hell is going on, but the voice in the back of her head told her not to do it. Better to wait for the TV crew to pop out. The girl cleared her throat, wanting to say something, that could be expected of an actress in such a scene, but a sudden commotion outside the chamber interrupted her.

                Suddenly, the door flung open and a large group of men stormed inside. All of them except one were dressed in chain mail and tunics, with swords hanging from their hips. The clank of metal was resounding throughout the room with every hasty step they took. Their hair was  about shoulder length, just like the other male actor had. Most of them had beards as well, which  made them look like Vikings. The two men were dragging some poor guy dressed in shabby clothes behind them. The man was kicking and struggling, unsuccessfully attempting to set himself free from the firm grasp of his captors. His face was smeared with dirt, the hair untidy and a gleam of madness in his eyes.

                “She deserved it! That bitch slept with my cousin!” the man yelled, as the Vikings shoved him on his knees before the richly-clothed actor  who was her "father."

                “Duke Thoen, we caught the murderer, who killed his wife,” one of the soldiers informed. May stared in silence as the middle-aged man nodded and reached out with his hand. One of the Vikings unsheathed his sword and passed it to the fancy-clothed actor. He took it, a solemn look on his face.

                “I have promised the mother of this poor woman, that the murderer of her daughter will die by my hand as soon as I see you. Prepare to pay for your sin may the demons return your soul,” he said solemnly.

                The man in the shabby clothes began crying and yelling, as the soldiers immobilized him and brutally grabbed his hair, so that his neck would be exposed.

                May  stared at the scene with wide-opened eyes. She observed at the middle-aged actor lifted his sword and swiftly brought the blade down. The girl heard an unpleasant sound, when the sword slashed through the flesh and backbone, meeting little resistance. Then, there was a thud, as the convict’s head fell to the ground and rolled towards May, leaving a red smudge on the snowy white marble floor. The headless body limply fell to the floor.

                “Take this carcass out.” May heard someone saying, but she was still staring at the head at her feet.

                Holy hell, it was real.

The Other Side, part 1

                May stared at the head at her feet, as though she was in a trance – it didn’t seem entirely real, but there was no way it was a joke. The blood now pooling around the man’s head was most definitely not fake. The eyes of the convict were glassy and half-opened; the life abandoned them.

                May sharply took a breath, feeling her hands begin to sweat. This man had been killed before her eyes – a minute ago he was talking and screaming, and now his head laid here, separated from the rest of the body. May took a step back, shaking from panic. She didn’t know what scared her more – that she saw a man executed right before her eyes, or that she finally understood, what had happened to her. This was no freaking TV show.

                “Maewyn, I am terribly sorry, that you had to witness that  gruesome scene. Perhaps I should have delivered justice to this criminal outside.” The man, who just beheaded the convict approached her and ushered her into the neighboring chamber.

                May was too shocked to protest or struggle. The panic and the sudden realization of her situation almost petrified her.

                Her mind began processing things at great speed, basic survival instinct kicking in. The people around her were crazy and one thing was for sure – angry, insane people were violent, and she didn’t want to end up dead like the guy a moment ago. She couldn’t afford to make a mistake, not even a tiny one. If she did, she would surely lose her head.

                “You seem distracted, Maewyn. Did something happen?” the middle-aged man asked her casually, as though nothing wrong had happened.

                May lifted her head to look at him, frantically assessing her current situation. The people around here treated her like someone they knew. They thought, that she was their Lady. Considering that she looked a tiny bit differently than her old self, she probably looked now like her. How would they react if she told them, that she’s a stranger? Dungeon? Execution? She thought fast, when suddenly, she got an idea.

                “Actually, I tripped and hit myself in the head. I'm feeling very confused right now,” May blurted out, saying the first thing, which popped into her mind. Almost immediately she berated herself for coming up with the stupidest idea possible.

                The man paled slightly and reached out a hand to feel her forehead, turning around yelling to the one of the servants:

                “Bring the healer in here immediately and send for Hilda.”

                The servant ran out frantically, and May concentrated on surviving.

                So, I am his daughter. If I’m a Lady, he must be the Lord of the castle. One of the Vikings called him a duke, May thought.

                The Duke’s attention turned back to May.

                “Maewyn, rest, please. I wouldn’t want you to overexert yourself,” he said and ushered her onto the bench in the corner of the room. With an impatient gesture, the Duke ushered the servants out of the chamber.

                May sat down and stared at her knees. The situation was becoming more and more freaky with every minute, and she was scared.

                A woman and a man rushed through the door. The woman was in her fifties, dressed in fine silk. She was quite tall and slim; her face proud. She gave Maewyn a quick glance and turned her attention to the Duke. The man beside her looked somewhat like a rat – he was short and thin, with gray hair; his back bent with age.

                “Healer, examine the Lady,” the Duke ordered.

                The woman gasped, covering her mouth with a hem of her sleeve and looked at May with worry in her pale blue eyes.

                May flinched when the healer approached her; she definitely didn’t want the “rat-man” anywhere around her – she was afraid, that he’d try to “cure” her with leeches or slitting her wrists, like they  had done in the Middle Ages. May tried her best to smile.

                “Actually, I think that I feel better already,” she said quickly, wanting to avoid any phony treatment. The elder woman furrowed her eyebrows.

                “Maewyn, let the healer examine you. You don’t want to faint when you meet Lord Abrran, do you?” she said sternly.

                “Abrran who?” May asked.

                She soon realized that the question had been a big mistake. The Duke, Hilda and the healer were now all staring at her, as though she was crazy, well crazier  than she already felt. May shifted uncomfortably on the bench and tried to think of what to say. The healer was the first to break the awkward silence.

                “Lady, Lord Abrran is your fiancé. You are to be married to him this summer. You don’t remember him?” the man asked.

                Fiancé? Oh crap, May thought.

                “No,” she said aloud.

                “Who is the man beside me?” the healer asked while pointing to the Duke.

                “My… father. The Duke…” May looked around searching for a hint. However, there were none. She closed her mouth, helplessly shrugging her shoulders.

                “And the lady on my right?” he asked. May didn’t know what to answer. She heard her fake-father call her Hilda, but aside that, she didn’t have any information on her. The girl decided to give up.

                “I don’t remember,” she answered.

                The Duke scowled. Hilda looked at May in shock. The healer shook his head sadly and turned to the Duke.

                “My Lord, I can heal the sickness of the body, but not that of the mind. If the Lady regains her lost memories, I cannot say. This happens sometimes with head injuries. The best cure would be time. It would be wise to take the Lady to familiar places; it could help the memories to come back to her, but I cannot promise anything. This is beyond my ability,” the healer said, looking at May with genuine compassion.

                There was silence once again. The Duke looked as if he was battling with his thoughts.

                “Is there nothing that can be done?” he asked sharply, knitting his thick eyebrows and gazing demandingly at the healer. The rat-like man tugged his ear, hanging his head in an apologizing gesture. He shook his head.

                “I can only pray for the Lady to get better,” he said quietly, bowing his head. The Duke furrowed his brows, as he began pacing, uneasiness reflecting on his face. Finally, he stilled and looked at Hilda and the healer sternly.

                “Maewyn’s sickness must be kept secret. If it was known that the Lady cannot remember neither her father nor the woman who has raised her, the dignity of the Thoen family would be put in jeopardy. I cannot take such risk. The only ones who know about my daughter’s… condition, are we three. I trust you to keep silent,” the Duke said in a threatening voice. The Healer nodded turning slightly pale at the intimidating tone the Duke used.

                Oh, great, May thought, they’re not counting me.

                “Maewyn,” Duke Thoen turned to May. The girl flinched slightly as he said that name. “It is important that you do not let anyone know that there is something wrong with you. You may rely on me, Hilda or healer Kolbrunn. We will make sure no one will discover the truth about your sickness. Do you understand?”

                “Um… I think so,” May answered unsurely.

                She was still confused about what was going on, but she was glad that the Duke and the rest of the people in the room were helping her keep her identity a secret. It was a miracle that she managed somehow to make them think she had amnesia – surely she was lucky on this one. A stupid idea turned out to be not so silly at all… God, if they only knew the whole truth…

                “It is settled then,” Duke Thoen stated. “I shall meet my advisors now, as you're in no shape to sit in on the council, Maewyn, have Hilda take you back to your chambers.”

                With those words, he marched out of the room, followed by the rat like healer, leaving May  with the stern-looking woman. The girl stared back at her, not wanting to be the first to break the silence. The old woman cleared her throat.

                “I imagine that you must be tired, Maewyn. Would you like to rest in your quarters?” she asked.

                Quickly, May thought of ideas. Well, one thing was for sure; she wasn’t going to let them keep her locked up in her room. She had to look around and find out where exactly she was. Plus, There was one more thing she had to confirm.

                “Actually,” she started, gathering her courage to speak up. “I would feel better if I had a stroll outside.  The healer himself said that I could look around for the memories to come back.” She tried to sound as convincing as possible. The older woman sighed, obviously not happy about the perspective of the walk.

                “Very well, Maewyn. Let us go then.”

The Other Side, part 2

                For the next hour, May and the older woman walked around the castle, barely saying a word to each other. The place was huge and looked like no other medieval castle May had seen in the documentaries. The castle was not a single building, but a whole complex, which housed hundreds of people, maybe even more than a thousand. The part, where May was, was just a tip of the iceberg. It was the upper castle which was situated high above other buildings and was the residence of the Duke, his family and the closest advisors.

                Its interior was fully decorated with the most beautiful pieces of furniture and art which all looked disturbingly… new. Most castles looked old and destroyed while this one actually seemed like someone had remodeled it just a couple of years ago to make it appear like a castle would have looked in the Middle Ages. Though it would be hard to tell in which Middle Ages – the architectonic style was unrecognizable for the girl. The basic elements resembled the typical European gothic castles, but the decorations and sculptures looked rather oriental. The beautifully woven arrases hung next to the pieces of porcelain, which resembled Ming dynasty vases. May had no idea why, but the vases in the movies have been always from the Ming Dynasty. Moreover, the sculptured pillars looked a lot Viking-like, with the pattern of dragons winding around them. The mix of styles baffled the girl.

                 The servants and nobles were dressed in variously designed clothes. From what May saw, the noble women wore the expensive silk Chinese-style robes with some elements of the European royalty attire, just like she did, while the rest was dressed in plain cotton clothing, which would be common in Europe  somewhere around 15th century. May pondered on the thought that the clothes on her back were probably worth a lot more than all she possessed back at home.

                “Hilda?” May suddenly spoke up. “Can we go outside the castle?”

                “My Lady!” the woman scolded May harshly. “You want to go to the village? That’s unthinkable!”

                “The doctor said that I should visit places, so the walk will be good for my health,” the girl insisted, set on getting out of the castle hoping to find more clues to what was going on. Hilda placed her palm on her chest, as though the woman was about to get a heart attack.

                “What an idea! However,…" Hilda paused, as though she was battling hard with her inner thoughts. “I think it is in order, if it is for your health. Very well, I will get the palanquin ready.”

                May’s eyes widened. A palanquin? She was supposed to ride in the thing?

                “No need, I’m fine with walking,” she protested as firmly as she could before Hilda took off. A strange voice escaped the old crone’s throat, as though she was choking, apparently shocked by her words.

                “Walk? On foot? You could get yourself dirty!”

                However, May ultimately managed to talk some sense into the old woman and convince her not to take palanquin, but four armed bodyguards followed the women.

                May and Hilda went outside the gates of the upper castle, heading down the ramp, which encircled the gothic-style palace hidden behind the massive stone walls. The girl expected to be already out of the castle, but that was only its smallest part. Beneath the palace were other fortifications – the buildings made of the large stone blocks were creating a circle around the upper palace, and the high towers were emerging here and there, their multitude making them look like a stone forest. May noticed a lot of armed Vikings-like warriors in chain mail and assumed, that the place must be mainly barracks, housing the entire army.

                Outside the gates of the middle level, there was another one, likewise, equipped in high outer wall and guardian towers. Here the colorful crowd of craftsmen and merchants was filling the streets. The castle was like a real city, gathering all the most useful people under the protection of the fortifications.

                As May and Hilda finally managed to step out of the outer gates, this time leaving the stone stronghold for good, the girl was turning her head in all the directions, greedily taking in the sight. The whole castle wasn’t surrounded with a moat, how she had expected, but the settlement of farmers was built right under the walls, the wooden huts practically linked to the gray stone of the fortifications. However, the moat seemed to be unnecessary, as the walls themselves were an obstacle impossible to overcome – erected to the height of over fifty feet and casting a mighty shadow over the village. Undoubtedly, it was the most gigantic stronghold May had ever seen. The construction of such a huge castle wasn't something she could even imagine.

                The armed guardsmen bowed to May, as she and her “nanny” left the stronghold. The older woman complained all the time – about the dirt on the ground, about noise on the streets or the peasants’ lack of manners. They were walking across the village situated next to the castle. The people there were staring at them and pointing at her with their fingers, whispering. May also noticed that they were all bowing and avoided looking her in the eye. Such strange behavior made her feel uncomfortable, but it wasn’t really surprising. She was dressed like a Lady, and her hair was so long that it reached her knees. The village itself looked like something out of one of  those Renaissance Fair’s or those trips schools would take you to see how real communities lived in the past. All the people here had similar peasant clothing and unusual hairdos.

                The girl noticed, that the majority of the villagers were either blonde or had brown or red hair. Black hair seemed to be rather rare around here. The young women had their hair either undone or had one or two braids falling on their backs. The older women, probably the married ones, had their hair done up in a bun. All the men had their hair rather long, reaching to their jaws, some to shoulders and even past it and had little braids on them. Beards seemed to be also quite popular, which again reminded May of Vikings.

                May paled, as the trip to the village confirmed her greatest fear – she was definitely not at home anymore. Not only was she not in Baltimore – judging by the night sky she was probably not even on Earth. Just… where was she?

                Hilda noticed May’s distress.

                “Maewyn? Child, you are so pale! Let us go back to the castle!” she said turning around and dragging her along.

                All these thoughts flooded through May’s brain as she was guided back to the castle.

                Why do all the bad things happen to me? Why was it me who was sent to the damn freaking Narnia by some freaky magic mirror, not, for example, Hailey?  

                May knew that she had to think of some type of plan, and she had to do it quickly if she didn’t want to end up decapitated. Objective number one: stay alive. Objective number two: go home. It sounded like an excellent plan to her. May had a pretty good  idea of what would happen if the Duke and the people here found out that she was not the real Lady: losing her head... literally. She had to act like a Lady would. That  shouldn’t be too hard, yeah right.... Thankfully, the Duke himself had solved some of that problem for her. To go home though, she had to figure out how to get that cursed mirror to work – it had to be the core of the problem.

                She was almost in her quarters when she heard a commotion from a sobbing woman.

                Hilda rushed into her room, and May followed her. They found a servant sitting on the floor and leaning over something, trying to pick it up. The woman looked up at her with teary eyes and guilt on her face.

                “My Lady, please, forgive me,” she pleaded. “The gift from Lord Abrran… I was cleaning and…”

                She tried to say something more, but it was no longer audible. May looked at what exactly the woman was trying to pick up, hoping to reassure her, it was no big deal. Her eyes widened when she what it was though. The fragments of the mirror! May leaned heavily against the wall, processing what she was staring at: the mirror shattered, her only way home! Her family… she wouldn’t see them ever again! What was she supposed to do now?

Baltimore

                Hailey just finished spreading peanut butter on her sandwich and went to help her sister unpack dad’s useless antiques. She spotted donuts that somehow escaped dad’s appetite and snatched one, placing it on her plate.

                “May!” she called. “I’ve found the donuts. Want one?”

Nobody answered. Hailey got a sudden nervous. She dropped the plate, letting it shatter on the floor and rushed to the corridor. May was lying on the floor unconscious. Next to her was the mirror. Hailey quickly hurried over to check May’s pulse like they had taught her at school. All right. Her heart was beating and she was breathing. Hailey looked once more at the looking glass, a very bad feeling washing over her.

                May moaned and her eyes slowly opened.

                “May!” Hailey exclaimed. “Oh thank goodness! Are you all right?”

                May looked at Hailey’s panicked face, then down at her summer outfit and finally around the corridor, and let loose a loud scream. Hailey tried to calm her down, but that only made matters worse. Scared, May backed away from her sister.

                “Who are you?” she yelled. “Answer me this instant!”

                Hailey didn’t know what to think – her older sister was thrashing in her embrace, genuine bewilderment and fear showing on her face. Didn’t May recognize her?

                “I’m Hailey, your sister. May, don’t joke…”

                “May?” May looked confused and slightly angry. “How dare you to speak to me in that manner, simpleton? I am a Lady, the daughter of a powerful Duke! What do you want with me, demon?”

                “So… you are not May?” Hailey asked slowly, her mind quickly connecting the dots. She glanced at the mirror on the floor.

                Oh dear. May and her blasted luck.

The Seekers of the Spear

Somewhere in the Dulheim Dukedom

                An exceptionally huge falcon was gliding across the night sky, heading north. The enormous bird was flying rather slowly as night vision was not its strength, and it had to navigate carefully between the mountaintops of Ard Dioghais. Suddenly, the falcon’s intuition told him to take another way. However, it was already too late.

                The bird winced, confused, as a small rock hit him squarely in the forehead. However, it was only the beginning of his problem as all the nerves in his body twisted with pain at the same time, when something like a whip hit him on the back. The falcon squeaked stridently, hurting. The physical suffering distracted him enough that he didn’t see the danger approaching from behind the nearest mountaintop.

                A dark silhouette of a winged beast emerged out of the shadows. The creature outstretched its enormous bat-like wings more and lazily glided towards the bird, which was currently struggling to keep himself in the air.

                The attacker folded the wings and dove, brushing past the falcon and whipping him with the tail again, this time breaking the bones. The bird squealed from pain once more, as his muscles contracted. His injured wings were no longer able to support his weight, and he began falling to the ground, making a desperate effort to do land slower. The cruel pursuer followed him, accompanying the falcon in his last flight.

                The bird hit the ground with a loud thud. It tried to crawl aside, but the huge, winged beast landed before him, blocking the escape route. It folded his leathery wings and before the falcon’s eyes changed – it decreased in size; the scales turned into skin and armor. Where the monstrous creature used to be, now stood a man. The fiend reached for the large axe he was carrying on his back. The bird squeaked in panic and tried to back away, but moving in this form was too difficult.

                The man observed calmly as the oversized falcon suddenly turned into a man, or a male human-like creature to be precise. His legs were that of a bird, and he had wings instead of his arms. The bright eyes stared at the attacker with a silent plea.

                As the enemy came closer, the birdlike creature squeaked from fear. The man was exceptionally tall and muscular, cruelty and bloodthirsty nature almost written on his face. Clad in a light, but well-crafted armor he looked like a seasoned warrior who saw many battles in his life. He weighed the heavy axe in one hand with such ease as though it weighed nothing, while tracing his black goatee with his fingers. He smirked maliciously and lifted the weapon, preparing to strike.

                “Don’t kill me, please,” the falcon desperately begged for his life, as he backed away to the steep stone wall. “I’ll do anything, but let me live. Anything!”

                “Anything?” the falcon-man flinched, when he heard a low male voice answering his plea.

                It didn’t belong to the crude bald brute in front of him, but to someone else. The falcon’s bright eyes widened, when he saw the tall figure on a black winged stallion in the back. The beast neighed, scratching the rock surface with one of its clawed paws as the rider lightly jumped off its back and began casually striding towards the birdlike man. The newcomer was clad in an armor similar to the one the muscular fiend was wearing. The falcon-man gulped, the tiny voice in the back of his head yelling to at him to run. The newcomer was tall, but compared to the first attacker he seemed to be almost harmless. The man approached him and looked at him from above, his intimidating demeanor overwhelming the scared falcon-man. “Did you find the Key?”

                “Yes, but….” the bird-like creature answered quickly, wanting to save his life. The stranger nodded interrupting him mid sentence, raising his hand in a silencing gesture.

                “And the Guardian?” he asked in a calm voice, calm and cold as ice.

                “The child has the Key,” the falcon-man said, cooperating. “We tracked the child, but he masked his scent, so we still search for him and…”

                “Silence,” the armored man lifted his hand. The razor-sharp claws gleamed in the moonlight. “Where was the child?”

                “He was heading to the east, towards Farn. It was two nights ago. My clan is about to capture him…” the falcon-man was nervously blabbering. He flinched, as he saw the stranger smirk with satisfaction.

                “All I have to do then is to follow the foul stench of your kin,” the man stated.

                The falcon like creature gulped and nodded, trembling from fear. He exhaled, when the fearsome stranger turned with his back to him. The bird-man flinched, when the man turned around, once again focusing his attention on the defenseless injured creature.

                “Where is the Spear?” the armored man asked quietly.

                The falcon shook his head, feeling that the sweat was streaming down his forehead.

                “I don’t know. I…” he began, but the tall stranger interrupted him.

                “Where is the entrance to the Uaimth Dorchadais?” he inquired.

                “I don’t know,” the bird-man whispered the man, staring helplessly at the one, who was towering over him. The tall stranger turned his back to the falcon-man.

                “It is unfortunate,” the rider said, slowly reaching behind his neck. An unpleasant metallic sound was heard, as he unsheathed slowly one of two swords he was carrying on his back and fluently changed the grip on the hilt.

                “No, plea…” the falcon-like creature shrieked in panic, but the plea ended up with a choking sound, as the blade pierced through his chest. A small stream of blood leaked out of the corner of his mouth when the bright eyes went foggy. The falcon’s body twitched one last time, and the life left him. The stranger didn’t even turn back. He pulled the sword out of the corpse and shook the blood off the blade before sheathing his weapon.

                “Come, Baltar, we need to hunt,” he said to his companion and mounted the black, winged stallion.

The Callesmere Empire

Thoen Stronghold, Farn

                “Maewyn, concentrate!” the old crone nagged.

                May frowned and tried to hide a yawn unsuccessfully.

                “Hmm?” she asked. Hilda glared at her with annoyance.

                “What happened to you? You seem to be an entirely different person! You need to behave yourself.” the woman scolded May as the girl looked worriedly at the remains of the mirror. “Let us go through it once again. All of your servants have been released from their duty, so you can count only on my help. If you are without my or your father’s company, stay in your quarters or in your garden. Is it understood?”

                “Mhm,” May mumbled, not taking eyes off the mirror.

                She was lost in thought. To be honest, she didn’t have a clue on how to start figuring out a way home. Ask somebody? Yeah right, and get a first-class ticket to Capital Decapitation?  No, she would rather not die. The best idea would be to learn something about that cursed mirror and maybe find something similar to it. How should she begin? If only someone could help her…

                She felt so helpless, all alone in this strange, foreign place. She missed her family, was scared of never being able to come back to them, but there was another feeling inside her, like a tiny spark that could become a raging fire in time – the feeling of freedom. Here she was free from her mom lecturing her all the time, her dad’s disappointed looks and Hailey’s boasting. Back at home, the life never focused on May, but here it seemed to be different; here it was all about her. She knew that now she was the main character, not Hailey, and only she had the power to shape her destiny. This thought gave May a huge confidence boost and fueled her hope to get out of this horrible situation.

                However, she still wished someone would just tell her what to do, like they always did.

May shook her head, chasing that thought away – she had to cope with it on her own this time. She had to think and decide for herself from this day forwards. The girl gasped, as an idea popped into her head. Books! Surely, in such a huge castle there was a library. And where is a library, there was information.

                “Maewyn!” Hilda’s nagging returned May to reality.

However, the girl took absolutely no interest in listening to the strict old crone. She needed to devise some way out of her miserable situation. She needed to learn at least something more about this place and perhaps solve the mystery of her arrival here. There was no room for her shyness anymore, no more indecisiveness.

                “Hilda? Is there a library here?” she asked. The older woman gave her a warning look.

                “You weren’t listening, were you?” she fumed. “And yes, there is your father’s library. The priest of the temple on the outskirts of the village has a small library too, but it’s rather useless. If you want, I could take you to your father’s library tomorrow. ”

                May furrowed her brows. She was way too impatient and wanted to start reading right away. She tried to put on her pleading face and make puppy eyes.

                “Can’t I do it today? Please, Hilda? Please…”

                Hilda sighed. What got into this girl? Before the accident, she was a gentle, polite Lady, and now she was rude and feisty. The woman had no idea why Maewyn was so insistent on visiting the library all of a sudden, but she couldn’t really resist the innocent and pleading to look the girl was giving her.

                “Very well. Follow me and memorize the route. After you finish, return here on your own, and do try to avoid conversations with other people along the way.”

                “I promise!” May clapped her hands and got quickly on her feet, feeling her body fill with a new-found energy.

                Hilda led her to the library. It wasn’t as impressive as May had expected it to be, but there were numerous books and scrolls on the dusty shelves. May didn’t even notice when Hilda left. Fascinated, she began picking up books and scrolls, looking at maps. This was heaven for her. Some of the books must have been really old!

                May began strolling along the book-filled shelves, wondering where she should begin her research. Her footsteps and breathing were the only sounds in the huge chamber – it felt as lonely as on a cemetery here. Apparently, the Duke and the inhabitants of the palace weren’t too fond of knowledge. The girl smiled to herself, when she found a desk with a thick book lying on it. She opened it and nearly squealed with joy, as it was the library index – the book contained the information on every single scroll and book in the chamber, as well as had them sorted into certain categories. May quickly skimmed over the list.

                “Geography, politics, romance, poetry…” she muttered, reading the names of the categories aloud. She hoped to find some books on mystical mirrors that transported people from Baltimore to this place, but apparently occult and religion weren’t the duke’s most favorite topics.

                May sighed, disappointed. However, she didn’t waste her time. As she was already in the library, she could make use of it to learn more about this strange place. Quickly, she began gathering books and scrolls with basic information about the country she was in, and dumping them on the desk.

                A moment later, May was sitting by the solid table made of the finest oak with a huge pile of tomes and scrolls before her. Not really knowing, where to begin, she picked up the first book from the top. It contained maps. She took a look inside, staring at the yellowing pages – the map looked foreign to her. She didn’t recognize neither the weird-sounding names of the countries, towns, mountains and rivers nor did she recognize the outline of the continent. It looked like nothing on Earth – her crazy suspicion, that she found herself in some foreign world seemed more real with every passing hour. May straightened her back and took a few calming breaths before proceeding with her research.

                Soon after, she learned that she was currently in the Callesmere Empire, which consisted of twelve autonomic dukedoms and the Capital Thorongard. The administrative side of the empire resembled feudal Japan or medieval Germany with the multitude of the local rulers and a puppet Emperor. The empire boarded the sea from the east and south, with the northern wastelands and impassable Bradan Mountains from the west. In one book, which appeared to be a geographical work, she read, that the most of the mountain tops were seven to eight thousand meters tall, and the highest peak was over a thousand and six hundred meters high, what meant that it surpassed Mount Everest nearly twice. May also learnt, that she was in the Thoen Stronghold, the capital of Farn, which was one of the smallest dukedoms in the empire. Farn had been ruled by Thoen family, which May was temporarily part of, for over five centuries.

                From what she managed to read, the girl figured out, that the level of progress matched the Middle Ages in Europe – a swift horse and a wooden ship with sails or paddles were the quickest means of transportation available; bows and swords were the top achievements of military technology.

                After a fairly long time of being engulfed in reading May realized one particular disturbing thing – the letters in the books. The girl closed her eyes, thinking that she was just tired, but when she opened them, the reality stared back at her.

                “What the heck…” she muttered to herself, suspiciously eying the book before her.

                The letters looked weird. Actually, when she focused on it more, the letters didn’t even belong to the alphabet known to her, they were runic. May shook her head in confusion and began flipping over the books she just read; all of them were written in runes. More, the words didn’t seem right either. The girl sat back and stared at the ceiling, trying to make the sense out of it – she most definitely knew nothing of runes, but she could read them as easily as though she was familiar with them all her life. Maybe… maybe there was a logical explanation. Perhaps this ability was a residue of being stuck inside of Lady Maewyn’s body.

                May sighed, having an awful suspicion than the runes were just a top of the iceberg. She had an impression, that the language she spoke so naturally with all those people wasn’t English at all. She couldn’t spot the difference, but deep down, she was certain for it to be true. The girl came to the conclusion that since she somehow understood this language naturally, there was no point in worrying herself over that, after all it was one of the minor issues here.

                She wanted to know more about the extraordinary place, where she was, but her stomach rumbled, reminding her how many hours she had spent in the dusty chamber. May learnt quite a lot about this strange world, but issue number one remained unsolved – she still had no clue, how she could get herself transported back to Baltimore. She would use some occult books, but there were none here.

                “The temple,” she muttered, remembering, that Hilda had mentioned the other library in the temple on the outskirts of the village. It was rather likely, that she could find some information on mystical objects there. Nevertheless, there was one problem – she had to think of the way to find an excuse good enough, so that she’d be permitted to go to the temple and roam through the library there, preferably alone. From what May had observed that old bat Hilda would probably have a heart attack when she suggested it. The girl decided to figure it out later, after she grabbed something to eat.

                May tried to go back to her quarters, but somewhere along the way she must have taken the wrong turn, and she found herself lost. Her sense of direction had never been that great. May took a turn left and found herself in the courtyard. There were a couple of nobles strolling and talking to each other. All the faces were unfamiliar except one – duke Thoen! May’s fake father was deep in conversation with some guy who was wearing an overly fancy hat which was sparkled with gems, and was wearing somewhat feminine robes.

                Then, an idea popped into May’s head: if she stumbled upon the Duke, she could use this opportunity, making sure she’d be able to visit the temple’s library and find out something about that cursed mirror... Gosh, May has never really been an expert on convincing people, but it was the highest time to become one now. She kept in mind that she had to maintain the façade of being a Lady. She walked towards duke Thoen, trying to appear graceful. She positioned herself in a place where he could see her. She didn’t have to wait long. Her fake father finished the conversation and hastily walked over to her.

                “Maewyn, what are you doing here? You should be in your quarters,” he hissed out, glancing nervously at other nobles.

                “Father,” May started cautiously. “I got lost, but I actually wanted to speak with you. There is a temple in the outskirts of the village, and I thought that I could pray there for my memories to return.”

                “Maewyn,” the duke looked at first furious, but his expression softened after a brief moment. “I understand that you are eager to get better, but it is a long way, and it would be tiring…”

                “I know,” May interrupted him. “I am convinced that I can get there alone. I can do it, and I wouldn’t bother you or Hilda or that healer…”

                “You want to go alone?” Duke Thoen whispered, shocked, as though May had just said she would travel across the entirety of the Callesmere Empire by herself, not the small village. The girl refused to give up.

                “It’s not that far, and no one would dare to hurt a Lady. Besides, I feel confined here, and I think my health is worsening from it.”

                The argument about health was decisive. The Duke didn’t seem to be happy with the idea of the Lady roaming around the village, but it seemed that he couldn’t say no to his only daughter.

                “I will agree, but I will send a bodyguard with you. I will choose someone who has not yet met you, so you would not have to be concerned about your memories. Now go to your room.”

                May bowed and happily rushed from where she came. She was so pleased with herself because of her small victory that she felt like singing aloud. What she did just now was astounding! Actually, she never liked being shy or being unable to speak her mind in front of anyone. It felt refreshing to make those invisible chains crumble. May smiled even wider, lost in thought; she didn’t notice that she was still lost until she nearly bumped into a solid wall...

                Oh crap. I don’t have a choice but to ask someone to show me the way.

                She chose a young maid as her target and stalked to her.

                “Ahem,” she coughed to get the girl's attention. The girl looked up in horror, surprised and scared.

                “My Lady?” she asked; her voice was shaking.

                “Can you walk me to my room?” May asked and tried to look weak, as she didn’t want to admit, that she got lost. “I don’t feel well.”

                The girl jumped up and led May, supporting her at the same time. When they got there, May thanked the girl and went into her room. She stretched and yawned loudly.

                “Where were you?” the voice of the furious Hilda made May jump and let out a shriek. “I searched for you everywhere!”

                “You scared me!” May accused her. “I got lost! It was not my fault!”

                “Maewyn!” Hilda was shocked. “What an outrageous behavior! Tomorrow, you shall spend all day in your room.”

                The girl barely refrained herself from huffing rudely at Hilda, who seemed to want to control May’s every step. She looked at the old bat with a new-found confidence, about to inform her, that she had other plans for tomorrow.

                 “Actually I am not. I’m going to the temple tomorrow.”

                “I will not allow it,” Hilda said, glaring sternly at May, surprised how the Lady defied her. The Maewyn she knew would never behave like that.

                “Father already allowed it. He believes, that praying in the temple will help my health to improve,” May announced, faking innocence. The old crone frowned and made her way to the exit.

                “I am disappointed in you, Maewyn. I raised you to be a graceful and polite Lady. I feel sorrow when I look at you now,” Hilda said quietly and locked the door behind her as she left.

                May couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed. It was great to act more confident, but she didn’t like hurting Hilda’s feelings. She decided to try to act more like Maewyn from this point on. She wondered how the Lady was doing, who had been sent into her own world…

Orvik, Karhadon

                The sun was just rising over Orvik, the magnificent capital of Karhadon. The banners with the royal crest slatted in the strong wind, the breeze from the sea scattered the flower decorations, sending the petals in the air only to let them fall like snow when the wind stilled. The night hadn’t ended yet, but people were on the streets, gathered alongside the main road leading from the Royse’s Red Castle to the Western Gate.

                Duke Royse stood on the walls of his castle and waved to his son who was departing to Farn. The crowd was cheering for young Lord Abrran, the heir of Karhadon. Women were throwing flowers before the Duke’s son and his richly-clad escort, men were saluting. Orvik was filled with life and joy on this cool morning. The entourage slowly moved towards the Gate and soon vanished from sight.

                Duke Royse sighed and left his place at the castle walls. When he was walking to his chambers, he heard the cheers of the Karhadonians, reminding him how much he loved his subjects.

                “Took you long enough,” a raspy voice greeted the Duke. The Karhadonian slammed the door shut. His guest, a man clad in a dark cloak hiding his looks, began tapping with his finger at the armrest impatiently. Duke Royse couldn’t see them, but he felt the man’s eyes observe him warily, almost looking into his very soul.

                “My son just departed for Farn; I had to see him off,” Duke Royse quickly explained himself, as though he wasn’t a powerful ruler, but a mere child in front of an adult. He sucked in his breath when his guest leaned forward.

                “You didn’t inform me of this,” the cloaked man stated, his voice calm, but Royse sensed a hidden threat in it. “If I am to help you, you need to tell me such things. I trust your son won’t betray any precious information to our neighbors?”

                The Duke gulped and shook his head zealously.

                “He won’t, Abrran doesn’t know a thing,” he ensured his guest.

                “Never mind. Now, tell me, my dear friend, how are Karhadon’s relations with Farn?” the cloaked man asked.

                Royse straightened his back, trying to appear more confident in front of his recently employed “advisor."

                “Farn has always been our ally, for over four centuries our dukedoms assisted each other in need. My son is to marry Duke Thoen’s daughter this fall. If needed, Farn will assist Karhadon in the war,” the Duke explained.

                The cloaked man was sitting still for a longer while, not uttering a word. He strode toward a counter covered in gold paint and brushed his fingers against a plainly looking casket. He flipped the lid open and reached for the content – a gem of the size of a child’s fist. Royse squinted when his guest lifted the stone so that the rays of the rising sun would light the fire within. The transparent surface came to light, sparkling with all colors of the world; not simply reflecting the light, but radiating with its own, brilliant glow.

                “ So this is a Barrier Stone,” Royse’s advisor whispered, gazing at the gem with wonder. “It’s amazing like those little things keep the demons away from human strongholds. So small yet so powerful. But, only when it’s placed within the center of the spell; this one isn’t. Good job, Royse.”

                Royse began shifting uncomfortably and observed his guest put the Barrier Stone back in the casket. The Duke let out the breath he was holding the whole time.

                “So Karhadon is in good relations with all the dukedoms,” the Duke’s guest continued the previous topic, sounding almost disappointed. He shook his head like he was chasing away a stray thought. He stood up and passed by the Karhadon’s ruler. When the cloaked man was standing with his hand on the doors handle, he spoke: “Remember our agreement, Royse.”

The Temple

Thoen Stronghold, Farn

                May looked at her reflection in the large mirror. Nice. The clothes were beautiful, the long hair she now had was pretty, but also very bothersome. She was nearly strangled by it in the night. After she confirmed that she was looking quite presentable, and for the most part, unnoticeable she hurried to the castle gates. Surprisingly, she hadn’t gotten lost - perhaps she was slowly learning her way around here. She grimaced at the thought…

                May spotted a young man looking around nervously waiting by the gates of the palace. Rather a boy than a man - he looked like he was her age, perhaps a year older. He was dressed in a warrior attire, but without a chain mail – his clothing consisted mostly of leather dyed black. Even though it was spring and the days were warm, he wore a furry coat on his shoulders. He was armed with a sword, which hung from his hip. His face was round, rather boyish, but quite handsome. He had an honest look in brown eyes. His blonde hair was hanging loosely and reaching his shoulders.

                May thought, that he must be that bodyguard, her fake father had told her about – he was supposed to meet her at the gates today to accompany her to the temple. The girl was opposed to the idea of dragging some stranger with herself while looking for clues, but at least one boy was better than the whole lot of the Viking-look-a-likes trailing behind her. She decided to say greet the guy, who would have to put up with her for god knows how long.

                “Hello. Are you my bodyguard?” May asked him politely, trying to sound casual – talks with the members of the opposite sex were on no account her strength and never failed to make her feel awkward.

                The boy blushed and got even more nervous, obviously he was much more anxious than she was.

                “Lady Maewyn?” he asked unsurely.

                May nodded.

                “Yes. It’s me. And you are…”

                “Leif from the Agnar family,” he answered immediately. “I have been honored with the task of looking after your safety.”

                May smirked a little at the chivalrous nature of the boy. Somehow Leif’s nervous behavior made May feel more confident, wanting to befriend him. She might as well do it if she had to take him along with her every day when she went to the temple.

                “I can call you Leif, right? Come on, don’t fall behind!” May called to him as she already set off down the ramp, eager to continue her library research as soon as possible. Leif trailed behind her like a puppy behind his master. Apparently, the boy was both slightly scared and thrilled by being entrusted with the task of protecting the Duke’s daughter.

                As they walked across the village, May thought that it would be a good idea to ask the young warrior about this world. She knew some things from the books in the castle library, but Leif would surely tell her something from a real person’s point of view. Besides, it would be smart to develop some friendly relations between them if she was to spend at least half of her time in his company. Not that May had much experience when it came to befriending people…

                “Leif, are there a lot of dangers outside the castle?” she asked, observing the boy’s face as it slowly turned red, when Leif began focusing his gaze on his feet.

                “Umm, yes. The dukes are warring with each other, so there are the enemy’s armies, robbers in the forests and demons waiting to devour unlucky travelers.” Leif replied, before adding hastily. “Your Ladyship.”

                “Demons?” May laughed, ignoring the title. Leif’s answer amused her, making her forget about the awkwardness. God, the boy is as superstitious as the old professor Hatchets.

                “Have you ever seen a demon?” she asked with a mocking tone.

                “No, but I’ve heard stories about them!” he exclaimed, ready to defend himself. “And their favorite foods are little children and Ladies.”

                “I don’t believe you,” May stated, laughing slightly, folding her arms and nodding to herself. “Demons exist only in people’s imagination silly.”

                “Don’t say such things because you will be spirited away by one, Lady,” Leif warned her in a very serious tone. “Those matters are not ones to be joked with. We’re going outside the Stronghold’s walls; the protection of the Barrier Stone doesn’t reach that far!”

                “Why the heck would a demon want to kidnap me?” May said rolling her eyes.

                The girl smiled to herself and with a certain dose of surprise and discovered, that she was actually having fun bantering with Leif. She hadn’t had that long of a conversation with a peer since grade school, and she didn’t expect to get along with her new bodyguard that easily. She thought, that having to take the young warrior to the temple would be a pain, but Leif turned out to be a good companion. He was a bit too Mr. Nobility for her, when he kept insisting that he would protect her anytime, but overall he was seemed like good friend material.

                They finally reached the temple, as it was a thirty-minute  walk from the castle, on the outskirts of the farmers’ settlement beneath the stronghold’s walls. The temple building was small and unkempt, giving off the feelings as if it was about to collapse anytime. In front of the humble wooden construction was a rather ugly-looking statue of a pregnant woman embracing her huge belly, while smiling. May guessed that the smile ought to be gentle and loving, but the meager skill of the sculptor made it look rather gruesome. The peeling golden paint was reflecting the sun’s rays.

                “Goddess Illiana, the mother of us all. It is believed, that the world is a round egg, which comes from her womb. She is the creator of all life, and we worship her in return for guidance and grace,” Leif said quietly, seeing, that May was staring at the statue. He shook his head. “How foolish of me. A Lady must know more about the religion of the goddess more than me.”

                 May didn’t say anything, but cast one last quizzical look at the statue and entered the temple with Leif following her.

                “Hello?” May called, looking around the spacious empty room with an exception of another large wooden statue of Illiana painted golden in the back of the room, where incense had been situated, creating a slightly hazy atmosphere to the whole place, the floor was dusty and rather dirty. The temple desperately needed some cleaning – it was hard to believe, that a place of the cult could be that unkempt. Then May noticed a fat man lying in the corner and snoring quietly. She walked up to him cautiously, Leif right behind her. She leaned over the priest and poked him gently. He snored louder, letting out a noise resembling a thunder. May gently grabbed his shoulders and shook him. The priest’s eyes snapped open, and he yelled.

                “What the hell are you doing, stupid girl?!” He yelled. May opened the mouth to talk back, but Leif was faster. He swiftly drew his sword and pointed the tip of the blade at the monk’s throat.

                “Be respectful while talking to the royalty. This honorable woman is Lady Maewyn, the daughter of the great Duke…“

                “Okay, okay,” May answered abashedly and gave Leif her most threatening look. “put down the sword, Leif, And skip the introduction.”

                “So you are the Lady?” the priest asked, glancing nervously at the young warrior. “You are quite different from what I’ve heard about you. I didn’t think that the Lady… Well, I guess you can't always trust the rumors,” he said, wiping some drool away from his mouth, and scratching his head.

                “I’ll be coming here daily from now on,” May informed the priest.

                The old man arched an eyebrow, confused by the awkward statement. The girl sighed mentally – she needed to get information from the priest about the damn cursed mirrors if she ever wanted to see Baltimore again. It would be the best if there were no witnesses to tell her fake father, that she wasn’t going to pray in the temple. She looked at her companion. As friendly and nice as Leif was, she had to get rid of him, so that she could have enough time to do some research. She smiled at him, feeling horrible for taking advantage of her current status and the young warrior’s nervousness. “Leif, could you clean the temple in the meantime?”

                He looked slightly shocked by the Lady’s request but hesitantly nodded his head. May waited until the surprised young warrior got equipped with a broomstick, and the priest shoved him outside so that Leif would sweep the entire courtyard. Once the old man returned, he bowed before the girl.

                “What could I, your humble servant, do for you, Lady?” he asked.

                May bit her lower lip, considering whether she should tell him straightforwardly, what she was looking for. Sighing, she decided to take a risk hoping it wasn’t going to end up with a loss of a body part.

                “Actually, I was hoping you could help me with something. I am looking for some information on mirrors. Magical ones,” May said, feeling like an idiot for saying something that stupid. She quickly devised a fake reason for her research. “I just heard one of the legends recently and have become interested.”

                However, much to her surprise, the priest didn’t treat her, as though she just spurted some nonsense – he seemed to be startled by the request, but still serious.

                “Mirrors, you say?” the priest asked, looking baffled. “I expected you to be wanting to pray, Lady. Never mind, I should have some scrolls about magical items, so I think, that I’ll satisfy your curiosity.”

                The priest led May to the room, which served as a library. She winced, seeing the numerous scrolls drowned in dust, somewhat reminding her of the basement in her house, causing an uncomfortable swelling in her chest; she missed her parents and her bratty sister. The dark chamber was awfully messy, but the temple’s keeper seemed to know exactly, where everything was. He climbed up a  ladder that was connected to an old book self, tossing the fragile scrolls into the girl’s hands, not caring, that she was supposedly the Duke’s daughter and should perhaps show some more respect. May smiled, liking the old man more and more.

                May was quickly skimming over the yellowing scrolls, coughing because of the dust, that kept getting into her lungs. Most of them had sketches inside, but she saw nothing similar to the mirror, which was to blame for transporting her to the Callesmere Empire.

                “Only two left, Lady!” the priest shouted to her and tossed another scroll without even looking what he was doing. The scroll hit May squarely in the forehead. The girl moaned from the pain, clutching the aching spot. She glared at the priest, who just nearly had her knocked down, and bent to get the scroll. She unrolled it and gasped.

                The sketch inside was depicting a pair of mirrors, that were precisely the same as the cursed mirror, which got her into the trouble, – the characteristic pentagonal shape, plain wooden frame and the tiny markings. May unrolled the scroll and began to read the text frantically, but she didn’t understand a thing, as it was written in some weird foreign language.

                 Anam lanna Scathain”. The girl flinched, when she heard the priest’s voice. She hadn’t noticed, when the man climbed down the ladder and was looking at the scroll over her shoulder. May gazed at the priest.

                “You know what it says?”

                The man furrowed his brows and took the scroll out of her hands. He squinted his eyes and began moving his lips soundlessly. Finally, he turned his attention to May.

                “Unfortunately I can understand only tiny bits. Anam lanna Scathain… I think it means something like mirror switch… soul switch… mirror and soul switch… I am not sure. There is a large part, where the word “dhoras” is mentioned. I believe that it means door or rather portal. A door to the other world,” he said slowly May’s eyes brightened at the sound of the words ‘other world’ – that definitely sounded like something that could get her home.

                “A portal,” she repeated, not really realizing, that she said it aloud. The priest arched his eyebrow, looking suspiciously at her.

                “So you are interested in the portal, Lady,” He muttered, smiling slightly. May froze, feeling, that a little slip of the tongue could cause her trouble, but the old man didn’t seem to be a threat. He sighed.

                “If you are, you found the right scroll, there’s definitely a lot of information of portals in here. However, it is written in the  old language of these lands. It’s forbidden to use it, as it’s said to be the language of the evil ones. There are few,  who could read that, but my acquaintance should be able to translate it.”

                May became intrigued. A forbidden, evil language?

                “Why is the language forbidden?” she asked, curious. The priest cleared his throat.

                “Most people don’t know it, but we’re not the native inhabitants of this land. The oldest scrolls say that we came from across the sea in great ships and claimed this land, we now call the Callesmere Empire. Before our ancestors moved here, over a thousand years ago, there were others inhabiting this land, they still live nearby actually. They used the language, the scroll is written in, but now even they have begun to forget their native language,” the priest explained to the mesmerized May.

                “Who are they?” she asked with a curious gleam in her eye. Suddenly, the man’s face became solemn.

                “Don’t ask about them, Lady. It brings bad luck.” He warned. “Pray, that you won’t ever meet any of them.”

                May felt a shiver go down her spine. Apparently, the Callesmere Empire had a darker side as well. She wanted to ask more about the mysterious fog, but she had the impression the priest wouldn’t answer them anyway. She decided to change the topic.

                “Could your acquaintance translate the scroll for me?” she asked. The priest nodded.

                “I’ll send a messenger to him right away. He’ll translate the scroll in no time. I think, that the translation should be back in few days.” He said, making hope return to May’s heart.

                “Thank you,” she said with a grateful smile on her lips.

                She sincerely hoped, that the scroll would have some information on how to get back home. If there really existed some other portal or another way to get home … she would be saved. She was about to leave the temple and head back to the castle, but there was one more thing, that was bugging her. She glanced  back at the priest, who had begun to wrap up the scrolls that had been tossed around the room “I’m just curious… how does your acquaintance know the language of those… people?”

                The priest stiffened, before giving a small smile.

                “She’s a very knowledgeable scholar,” he said. Before May had the chance to say something, he lifted his finger to his lips. “But it’s a secret between you and me, Lady. If the people from the castle found out, I’d be in trouble, just like you, if they find out, that you’re not praying.”

                May knitted her eyebrows.

                Was that a threat?

                The corpulent priest grinned widely.

                “Lady,” the fat man addressed her. “You’re welcome to come whenever you want. I would love to have my temple cleaned by your bodyguard, and you would use a little freedom, wouldn’t you?”

                 “Sure,” May replied, making a deal with the priest.

The Little Thief

Thoen Stronghold, Farn

                May smirked, self-satisfied as, she and Leif were returning from the temple. She felt that she was on the right track, all thanks to her wit and idea to visit the temple’s priests. Talk about mysterious portals and scrolls written in a forbidden language seemed phony, but what didn’t, here, in the Callesmere Empire? Already knowing how real the magical soul-switching mirrors were, May decided to take the occult for granted, like gravity or Lavoisier’s conservation of mass law. If the priest was correct, the map to Earth merely needed to get translated. Only a day or two and she’d be back in…

                “Curses!” Suddenly, Leif’s voice made May’s thought stray from the pleasant perspective of watching TV with her parents and sister.

                She furrowed her eyebrows, looking at her companion who was frantically patting his sides, where something was amiss. The young soldier kept cursing; his language probably could make a well-bred Lady from the Callesmere Empire blush violently and perhaps even faint, but May’s eyelid didn’t even twitch. After all, the girl from Baltimore heard worse, especially when Hailey didn’t do her hair right.

                “No, no, no!” Leif kept muttering, while searching through his pockets, not paying any attention to May, who was observing him with growing amusement. “May the demons rip me apart! Damn! I swear, if my father learns of this, he’ll chop my balls off so that I won’t sully my family name!”

                Suddenly, Leif froze, stopping the interesting display of swear words. He lifted his head and stared at May, his brown eyes wide-opened and jaw slack as he came to the realization. He covered his mouth with his hand, the palm slightly trembling. The soldier’s face went white; he looked like he just saw death in person who came to take his life.

                “Lady Maewyn…” he stuttered, the ghostly pale face changing its color to blazing red and then to white again. Leif swallowed a lump in his throat. “My Lady, my behavior was unforgivable… I… I probably deserve to…”

                The vision of an executioner’s axe reflected in the Leif’s eyes already, but May only waved her hand in a dismissive way.

                “No big deal, everyone needs to swear a bit sometimes,” she said with a smile on her lips, her reaction shocking Leif. The young warrior couldn’t utter a word, but his face expression said everything – he was grateful that May let such an unforgivable offense let slide. May sighed. “Anyway, did you lose something?”

                Leif straightened his back, attempting to act natural yet polite. He bowed his head respectively before the girl.

                “It seems I left my  seal of Agnar family in the temple. I need to get it back,” the soldier explained. “My father will punish me severely if I lose it.”

                May rested her hands on her hips, looking at the troubled soldier.

                “I guess you have to find it then,” she said and looked around; May wasn’t eager to go back to the temple right now, but the perspective of sightseeing the village at the feet of Thoen Stronghold was more than appealing. “You know what, Leif, go back alone. I’ll grab something to eat, and we’ll meet at the gates, okay?”

                Leif blinked, not being able to stop staring at the girl he believed to be the Lady of Farn.

                “I can’t leave you alone, my Lady!” the young soldier protested. “I’m responsible for your safety. You can’t just stroll around without the protection of my sword!”

                May narrowed her eyes at Leif, who was just taking a deep breath, about to preach some more. She decided to deal with her overprotective guardian swiftly.

                “Leif, what do you think the Duke would do if he found out that you hurt my delicate royal ears with your colorful cursing?” May asked him, a smug look on her face.

                The young soldier paled again, the vision of the executioner’s axe returning. May’s smile grew, turning into a full-fledged triumphant grin.

                “I thought so,” she said and cleared her throat. “I’ll be waiting at the gates.”

                “Be careful, Lady,” Leif muttered; the miserable look of defeat painted all over his face.

                May nodded.

                “Sure, what could happen anyway?”

                Once Leif was out of sight, May smiled to herself, breathing in the air. It felt so pure and fresh that it was almost intoxicating her. She locked her target on – the enormous gray silhouette of the Thoen Stronghold dominating the landscape and began walking, lazily taking in her surroundings.

                The Thoen Stronghold was surrounded by woods and fields, where the farmers were growing the crops. It was early spring, so the village under the walls was nearly empty, as its inhabitants were busy with the sowing. The plants in the Callesmere Empire were similar to the ones back in her own world, but she had never seen such a vivid green. The shade seemed to be almost unnatural. Everything about this place seemed more lively, deeper.  The wind seemed to be more pleasant, the birds sang most beautifully; the villagers seemed to be more friendly than the crowd back in Baltimore. The animals and plants were pretty much the same as in America, with the small exceptions – most of them were known to May, at least from books and Discovery Channel. However, some of the plant species looked completely unfamiliar to her – they were just another proof that she was in another world, far from home.

                May made her way through the settlement under the tall massive walls of huge Thoen Stronghold, which housed farmers and minor craftsmen. The place looked poor, but very tidy – every house was so clean that the cheap wood seemed to shine.

                Unfortunately, May hadn’t manage to conceal her identity from the villagers. Her dress had a plain design but was made of fine fabric. Of course, there was the hair reaching her knees. It was obvious that no one but a Lady would have such hair – she had learned from books in the Duke’s library that only the women of royal families were allowed to have their hair reach past waist. The peasants treated her friendly, but with reverence, careful not to disrespect her. May wished she could just cut the damn hair. It would be easier to walk, and she would look more like herself. However, if she was going to be a fake Lady, she couldn’t do it.

                May stopped by the market to buy some apples. Her stomach rumbling slightly demanded food. The sound was so loud that it was hearable even despite the noisy bustling in the village’s market where the common folks were trading the crops and mostly self-made objects. The woman selling fruit smiled at the girl cheerfully.

                “Are you hungry, my Lady? The peaches are very tasty today!” she exclaimed, out shouting other paddlers and getting the attention of the potential buyer. The woman bowed her head respectfully and with a gesture presented her wares – fruit and vegetables. As it was not the season for them yet, May assumed that they must be imported from the warmer parts of the Callesmere Empire.

                “Actually, I was wondering if I could have some apples…” May asked, and the woman was already packing peaches in a fabric bag along with apples and a couple of dried plums. May reached for a pocket in her sleeve to take out money and pay the woman for the fruit.

                “It’s a gift!” The fruit seller declined the money. “I wouldn’t take a single coin from Lady Maewyn!”

                “Look…” May began. “I have a lot of these, and you are earning your living by selling fruit. Take the money already and buy something nice for your kids.”

                May shoved the coins into the woman’s hand who stared at her with widely opened eyes. Eventually, she accepted, smiling thankfully and offered a discount for the next time.

                May took an apple from the bag and started eating. It tasted completely different than the apples from her world. It was juicier, and the flavor of the fruit was stronger. Generally, the food here was much better than at home. Plus, the air was cleaner than back in Baltimore. Perhaps it's the way it was a blessing in disguise, and she should take this experience as a small vacation. If her family was spending the holiday abroad, why couldn’t she do the same? May took another bite of the apple, and made her way toward the temple.

                She was so deep in thought she didn’t notice the commotion behind her.

                “Thief! Catch that thief!” some men yelled.

                As she turned her head to see what was going on, a small shape darted past her, knocking the fruit out of the her grasp. The apple slipped out of May’s hand and fell to the ground. She inwardly cursed as she saw her lunch lying on the dirt. Then the group of pursuers ran past her, and May struggled to keep herself on her feet as the crowd was pushing her and nearly causing her to lose her balance. Soon the men passed her in a hurry, only the cloud of dust from the road was left after them.

                “Idiots,” May mumbled and stalked in the direction where the men went. It was the same direction she was heading anyway.

                She heard the group of men shouting curses and threats as they gathered in a circle. The thief they were pursuing was presumably in the middle of it. Beside her, there were a couple of onlookers standing and encouraging the mob to deliver the justice. The men who nearly knocked May down were beating the thief, kicking him and shouting the threats. Much to her horror more and more onlookers began gathering and observing the occurrence casually with interest, as though it was just a funny show on TV. Apparently, they considered it an entertainment.

                Maybe he’s a criminal, May thought, but they are going to kill the man if they keep at it.

                May looked around, but no one was about to intervene – the children were laughing and pointing their fingers at the mob, while the others were smiling lightly. She took a deep breath and rushed forward, deciding to step on.

                “What is going on here?” she demanded, shoving the two broad-shouldered peasants aside to get a clear look at the thief, who was just being beaten up. May gasped when she saw the actual criminal.

                A little boy, no older than eight years old, was trying to shield himself with his arms from the attackers. His ruffled, blonde hair was dirty, and he wore a bluish rag which probably used to be a tunic. May could feel anger boiling in her as she observed the villagers harming the little child.

                “Are you insane?” she shouted at the men, pushing herself between them and the boy, shielding the child from the attackers. “How could you beat a little child?!

                “Move aside, woman!” one of the pursuers ordered, clenching his big calloused hands in fists, as though he wanted to punch May as well. However, his confidence died down a tiny bit when he saw that the she refused to be intimidated by the obvious threat.

                May glared at him furiously, standing her ground. No way. She would never let them beat up this  little boy. The man rushed toward May, but his companions grabbed him and started dragging him back, flashing apologizing smiled at the girl.

                “You fool!” somebody from the crowd shouted. “Don’t you know who she is? You will get executed!”

                The attackers were no longer so eager anymore to beat the little thief; they must have known better than to yell at the Lady and try to punch her. May sent them another angry glare and leaned over the young boy, patting his back and hoping he didn’t have any serious injuries.

                “It’s all right now. I won’t let them hurt you,” she said gently to the kid. The boy lifted his head to look at May. He glanced hopefully with big eyes in the shade of liquid gold.

                Geez, he has the best puppy-eyes, I have ever seen, May thought.

                May stood up and looked at the crowd. They were still standing there gaping at the scene before them. One of the angriest men stepped out.

                “It’s a thief you are protecting, my Lady; the brat stole from my stall!” the man said angrily, spitting on the ground. May couldn’t believe that such an innocent-looking child could be a thief, but decided not to argue. She sighed and reached for her pocket.

                “Here you go. It should be more than enough,” she said giving him three golden coins and a scathing look. “Now let’s forget about the whole mess. The show is over!”

                The village people reluctantly began returning to their daily routine though kept glancing occasionally over at the little boy and the one, they believed to be the Lady. Soon enough the entertainment-seeking crowd dispersed.

                May kneeled in front of the child and examined him. Thankfully, he seemed to be okay, bruises at most. It didn’t escape her attention that the child’s limbs were thin, as though he wasn’t eating properly in a couple of weeks.

                “It’s not right to steal from people, you know?” May said to the kid. The little boy stared at his feet, looking ashamed.

                “I was hungry,” he said quietly. May sighed, feeling pity for this child. She fished an apple out from her bag and gave it to the boy. The child stared at the fruit and then at May, unsure whether or not to accept the fruit.

                “Come on, I am not going to let you starve, kid,” May said, smiling and trying to encourage the boy. The child eventually flashed a wide smile, muttered a quiet “thank you” and took the apple. He nearly swallowed the fruit whole.

                He must have been starving, May thought, passing another apple to the child’s hands.

                May led the boy to the steps of the temple, and they sat there eating fruit. Well, May was mostly staring at the child who ate the entire supplies.

                “Wow, you sure were hungry.” May stated. The boy nodded happily and smiled at her.

                “Thank you. It was yummy!” the kid said, smiling even wider. May thought she was the most adorable child she had ever seen. She couldn’t believe that anyone could even think of hurting him.

                “I’m glad that you liked it. Oh, and by the way, I’m May,” May cursed inwardly as she realized that she had just said her real name instead of the Lady’s.

                “Nice to meet you, May,” the kid said. “I’m Erik!”

Erik

Thoen Stronghold, Farn

                May shifted on the bench outside the village’s tavern and watched the little boy who called himself Erik. He was a nice kid, polite and shy, but there was something odd about him. May scanned him with her eyes. The boy had bare feet covered in nasty blisters, a few bruises from before, was dressed in rags, and was in a desperate need of a bath. The short blonde hair looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in months. The old bluish tunic he was wearing, was nothing more than a rag hanging loosely from his bony shoulders.

                Then May saw something strange - the boy had a small pendant with a blue gem hung around his neck. The stone looked like a sapphire, but perhaps it was just a fake. The pendant’s chain was definitely made of gold though – confusing May, as something like that was way too expensive for a village kid to have, especially the one who was stealing apples to eat. Maybe he stole  it as well?

                “Erik,” May said to the boy as the sun hung low over the horizon, casting the red rays on the straw roofs of the farmers’ huts and the forest. “It was a pleasure to meet you, but it’s getting a little late. I think it’s probably time to return you to your parents. You don’t want to worry them, do you?”

                Erik looked up at May with kindle of sadness in his unusually honey-colored eyes and hung his head.

                “I don’t have parents,” he said quietly, staring back at his knees.

                May’s eyes opened wide. It turned out, that she stumbled upon an orphan... The girl felt immediate empathy for the child. It had to be horrible, being all alone in the world… she reached out and put her hand on Erik’s head. The little boy seemed to be surprised by the sudden display of affection.

                “It’s ok,” May said quietly.

                Erik stared at her. May smiled to him and ruffled his hair; the boy smiled back to her.

                “I’m not that sad anymore,” Erik said after a moment of silence. “My mother, father, my sisters and brother are dead, but at least Erik is still alive.”

                May sighed mentally, pitying the boy. He had to be a strong one; he lost all his family at such a young age... and yet he put on a brave face.

                “Do you live with someone in the village or in the Stronghold?” May asked curiously.

                “No,” Erik shook his head. “I used to live in a monastery with nice monks who took care of me, but it burnt two months ago. Now I... travel.”

                “Travel? That’s interesting,” May said. Though she thought that it was alarming for such a young child to travel alone. The girl decided to make the kid spill the beans a tiny bit.

                 May soon learnt that Erik had lost his family last year, though he didn’t tell how, but by his behavior, the girl guessed, that it must have happened in some violent way – maybe someone had killed them. Erik divulged, that he came from Teig – the dukedom in the west of the Callesmere Empire. He mentioned that the monastery, where he had spent the entire winter, burnt shortly after he left it two months ago. Since then he had been a vagabond, traveling from village to village, taking shelter where he could. As May expected, the child was spending most of his nights in the woods and was stealing the food from villagers. The Erik’s tale was a very sad one, especially with all those misfortunes befell such a little kid. May couldn’t help but worry about the child.

                “Erik, where will you sleep tonight?” May asked him.

                “In the forest,” the boy answered, shrugging his shoulders as if it was the most usual thing in the world. May, on the other hand, was shocked by the thought of a child spending a night alone in the forest, even though Erik must have done it a lot if she had been a vagabond for a full two months.

                “That’s too dangerous,” May stated. “you should come with me. I can find you a nice room with a soft bed. I can convince everyone to let you stay as long as you want; you know I am a princess.” She said with a smile and poked the little boy on the forehead.

                However, to May’s surprise, Erik opposed to the idea strongly. Shaking his head violently, he nervously gripped the fabric of his thin and torn tunic. Setting his gaze on his knees, he refused to look the girl in the eye.

                “I c-can’t stay at your house,” Erik stuttered in a quiet voice, pulling his knees to his chest, so that he almost curled herself into a complete ball.

                “The forest is dangerous in the night!” May argued. Stay at the temple then.”

                “Erik will stay in the forest,” the boy repeated stubbornly, not agreeing to spend the night under a roof in a comfortable bed.

                May furrowed her eyebrows, not understanding, why the child opposed so strongly to the idea of not sleeping on the bare ground. It would be getting dark, and the forest would surely become a hostile place for the kid. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know, that a lone child was an easy prey for wild animals that prowled the forest at night; he had been lucky so far but sooner or later a misfortune would happen.

                “Kid, be reasonable,” May said in a slightly harsh tone, wanting to talk some sense into the child. “You might get eaten by some mean angry wolves  if you continue to sleep outside. Listen, I can arrange for you to live in the castle or the temple. Both are nice places. I’m sure, that you’ll like it there…”

                “No!” Erik suddenly exclaimed, interrupting May in the mid sentence.

                The child was looking at the girl with bewilderment in his golden eyes. He shook his head again. He was silent for a longer while and shifted uneasily under May’s inquisitive gaze. Erik was biting his lower lip and was nervously twisting his fingers, clearly under a certain dose of stress. He looked at his companion, as though he was battling with the thoughts. It was obvious, that the child was hiding something, and now he was probably considering whether not to share what it was with May. Finally, Erik stared back at his feet, speaking in a quite depressed voice: “You… you can’t invite me. I bring bad luck.”

                “Don’t be…” May wanted to scold the child for thinking of himself like that, but Erik reacted violently, raising his voice, so that he nearly shouted at the girl.

                “It’s true! Everyone, who let me stay with them is dead! My family, the monks, everyone…” the child’s sudden outburst ended with a depressed whimper, as his golden eyes locked with May’s green ones. “I don’t want you to die too. You're very nice.”

                May opened her mouth, as though she wanted to tell Erik that something like that wouldn’t happen, but closed it. Apparently, the child’s past was more gruesome than she imagined. Most probably Erik was blaming himself for the death of his family and the caretakers, common among orphans who had lost their parents while they were alive. Feeling a rush of compassion to the kid, she reached out and trapped a surprised Erik in a comforting embrace.

                “It’s alright now,” May said to the child gently. “it’s not your fault.”

                Erik froze, shocked by May’s display of compassion for him, but then he hesitantly returned the hug, clutching the older girl’s dress tightly.

                “I’ll stay in the forest,” he whispered, not giving up on the idea of rejecting May’s offer.

                The girl smiled to herself at the child’s stubbornness. Perhaps she needed some more time to convince Erik, and she shouldn’t pressure the child just yet. However, May couldn’t just leave the kid alone.

                ”Erik, maybe my friend could stay in the forest with you for the night. You really shouldn’t be alone,” the girl said, wanting to have Leif baby sit the kid. However, Erik firmly shook his head, solemnly looking May in the eye.

                “No,” he said shortly. May was about to try to reason with him more, but the little boy spoke first. “I’ll run away. I want to keep traveling anyway.”

                May sighed deeply, giving up, as the child resorted to blackmail. Apparently, she would have to let Erik stay alone in the forest tonight, even though she didn’t like the thought. Nevertheless, May wanted to do something for the kid - in the night then he would be cold and starving.

                Suddenly, Erik jumped onto the roughly-carved bench, crouching like a wild animal readying itself either to fight or run. The boy’s wary gaze was fixed somewhere over May’s shoulder. The girl looked in that direction, curious what made the child act so strangely.

                “My Lady!” It was Leif, who was rushing her way, breathing heavily and holding the golden medallion in his hand – the precious seal of Agnar family. His previously neatly combed shoulder-length hair was now just as ruffled as Erik’s. The young warrior sighed with relief, seeing that May was safe and sound, although sitting in front of the tavern with some suspicious beggar-like child. “My Lady, I finally found you! Why weren’t you at the gates?”

                May blinked.

                “Oh,” she muttered, realizing that she completely forgot to head back to the Duke’s palace because of the distraction in a form of a skinny blonde child. She glanced at Erik, who was still tense, suspiciously eying Leif, and then the girl set her gaze at her protector. “Sorry, I got held up. You see; I had to help this boy here, and… I forgot.”

                Leif scratched his head, trying not to sigh at the girl’s odd behavior and way of speaking.

                “Lady Maewyn, we must return to the castle before the sun sets,” the soldier reminded May, pointing his finger at the darkening sky.

                The girl bit her lower lip as she stole a peek at Erik, who was hiding behind her back. She knew she should return, but she wished to help the little boy somehow.

                “Fine,” May finally said to Leif. “but first we’ll buy Erik some food and everything he’ll need while camping.”

                Leif opened his mouth to protest, but shut it, deciding not to argue with the short head-strong girl before him. He smiled in defeat and made a gesture for her to follow him to the market. Having spent much of his gold for supplies for the orphaned boy, he handed the filled bag to May.

                May opened the bag and examined the contents. She nodded her head with approval.

                “Good job, Leif,” she praised the young soldier before turning her attention to the little boy who was still doing his best to stay hidden behind her. “Erik, there's no need to be afraid. You can stop hiding behind me.”

                At her words, Erik hesitantly stepped away from May, not taking his eyes off the young warrior, as though he was expecting Leif to attack him.

                “Erik, that’s for you,” the May said, pushing the bag towards the child. “inside are things you will need if you want to sleep in the forest. I will be going now. Don’t forget to make a fire, so that the wild animals won’t get you.”

                “Will you come tomorrow?” the boy asked quickly, hope in his voice.

                “Sure I will. I’ll come as soon as the sun rises,” May answered, ruffling his hair. “See you tomorrow, kid!”

                Erik watched as May walked away towards the Thoen Stronghold accompanied by the young man, who looked like a warrior. He smiled to himself and dragged the heavy bag to his camp through the bushes. He checked if the pendant around his neck was still there and went deeper into the woods, hiding from anyone, who could find him.

                Once he found his sleeping place, the boy took out a self-carved figurine of a horse. It was the only toy he possessed.

                “Hello, Red Wind,” Erik said to the figurine. “I’m sorry I left you. Do you know that I found a new friend today? Her name is May and she’s really nice and brave. You would like her. Tomorrow I’ll see her again!”

                As expected, the figurine of a horse was silent. Erik sighed, but then a small smile brightened his face. Today he was a little less lonely.

The Trail

Rimmisth

                A small unit of soldiers slowly rode through the night, carefully choosing the path as the pale starlight made the shapes of the trees, and bushes look distorted. It was easy for a horse to break a leg and the leader of half a dozen warriors of Rimmisth wasn’t eager to report to Duke Skeye that another  fine steeds was lost because of his incompetency.

                “Let’s head back, sergeant,” one of the youngest soldiers complained, acting like a whining child. “we’ve been looking for those damn poachers for days now, but we found no one. There’re only stags and rabbits in this forest.”

                The rest of the unit grunted in response, supporting their younger colleague. However, the sergeant didn’t share the opinion of his men and their negligent attitude. He snarled and glared over his shoulder at the lazy lot who called themselves soldiers.

                “The beekeepers said that some suspicious characters had been roaming around the royal forest lately, probably poachers. Maybe, there are only stags and rabbits, but the damn stags belong to Duke Skeye, and we can’t let anyone steal them, understood?” the sergeant squinted his eyes in the dark, trying to make out the face expressions of his men.

The light was dim and he could barely see the silhouettes, but he was under a distinct impression that his speech had absolutely no effect on the youngsters. Not that he could blame them; when he joined the ranks of Rimmisth army, he expected to fight foes, slay dragons, basilisks and other demons. However, his delusions dissolved quickly, and the sergeant accepted that the most dangerous task available was hunting some poachers down.

                “Sergeant, look,” the youngest of the unit suddenly whispered, pointing into the darkness.

                The sergeant and other men set their gazes at the spot and saw a red flickering light.

                “Campfire,” the soldiers’ leader whispered and made a hand sign for everyone to dismount. Moving noiselessly as possible in chain mails, the warriors made way towards the source of light encircling it.

                When he was close enough, the sergeant peeked from behind the bushes to see who he was dealing with. The soldier of Rimmisth frowned with disappointment; he spotted two persons sitting by the fire, but they definitely weren’t the poachers he was looking for. Those two wore fine armors, too expensive for minor outlaws to afford. The sergeant thought that the design of the protective gear was unusual, nothing like he had seen before, but he dismissed the doubt assuming that the men could come from one of the southern dukedoms.

                The sergeant whistled and his unit emerged from the shadows, flanking the two people sitting by the fire. Surprisingly, neither of the men looked startled by the sudden appearance of the soldiers, as though they had been expecting the Rimmisth warriors.

                “Good evening, sirs,” the sergeant addressed the strangers, who calmly observed him with wary eyes. “May I inquire what are you doing in the royal forest? It’s forbidden to enter here and hunt without permission.”

                One of the strangers, the huge muscular oaf with a shiny bald head crossed his arms on his chest, rolling his eyes. The other man gathered his long black strands in a ponytail, fastening a leather strap, not hurrying with the answer to the sergeant’s question.

                “I and my associate have not hunted anything here yet,” the stranger replied, his voice dreadfully calm. He slowly stood up, glancing at the soldiers. “I appreciate that you brought the provisions. We are a bit hungry right now.”

                The sergeant furrowed his brows in confusion.

                “Provisions?” he repeated, not understanding what the stranger meant. “I didn’t bring you any provisions.”

                The smirk on the dark-haired man made the sergeant have goose bumps. Suddenly, the soldier noticed one tiny detail he had ignored earlier. Their eyes… their eyes were golden like those of the legendary beasts, the demons every mother in the Callesmere Empire warned. The man licked his lips, feeling his throat going dry. He took a step back, realizing that he and his unit walked into a trap.

                “Too late now, human,” the stranger said quietly.

                The last thing the sergeant remembered was a glint of the blade in the pale starlight and the cold touch of steel before his head rolled off his body.

                The black-haired man effortlessly pierced the dead sergeant’s chain mail and ribcage with his bare hand, ripping the still warm heart out. He smiled slightly before taking a bite.

                “Aedain, you won’t be eating that one’s liver, will you?” asked his huge companion. The bald oaf had his hands full with livers and kidneys, torn out of the bellies of their previous owners.

                “You can have it, Baltar,” the long-haired man called Aedain replied indifferently, finishing devouring the human heart. “Hurry up though, I do not want to lose those cretins of the falcon clan.”

                Baltar nodded as he retrieved another liver and proceeded with his meal. The whole time his associate was patiently waiting for him.

                “Dear ancestors, I was hungry,” the muscular man exclaimed in a cheerful voice. He checked if his axe was firmly strapped on his back and wiped the blood out of his face. “I’m good to go, Aedain.”

                Aedain nodded and both men set off, finding their way in the darkness without even the slightest difficulty as though their golden eyes saw equally well in sunlight and the dim starlight seeping through the trees’ leaves.

                “The falcon losers decided to take a route south from Baigh Riada,” Baltar muttered, sniffing the air and examining the faint tracks on the forest floor. “So the brat heads for the sea.”

                “If so, they should find the boy easily. There are not that many bridges on An Eachain, he must have passed one of them.” Aedain was thinking aloud.

                Baltar grinned, the wide boyish smile oddly contrasting with his rough facial features.

                “We have good chances of getting it before the eclipse, we still have over one year left.” The bald man shared his optimism with his associate.

                Aedain frowned, glaring at Baltar.

“Fool,” he muttered, shaking his head. “even if we manage to lay our hands on the Guardian and the Key, we still have not the slightest clue where it is hidden. It will take us several lunar cycles to find out, probably we will be ready by the next summer. For now, we have to find the boy.”

Baltar was staring at Aedain blankly, as though his brain had trouble processing what his accomplice just said. Finally, he shrugged his shoulders.

“You’re the prince; you call the shots,” he muttered.

A dark silhouette of a winged horse-like creature was circling high above their heads and treetops. The beast neighed and swished its tail, which was like a whip.

The Unexpected Visitor

Thoen Stronghold, Farn

                May sighed with contentment in her sleep and rolled onto her stomach, clutching the soft pillow. She was in the blissful state of being half-awake, too lazy to open her eyes. The pillows and the silk covers on her royal bed were so incredibly comfortable that she wished she could stay here the whole day. Slowly, she stretched her toes and hugged the pillow tighter.

                Like in the dream, she was taking in the sensations from all around her – the refreshing chill of morning air combined with the gentle warmth of the first sun rays, the intoxicating scent of flowers from the garden, the sound of the birds singing, animals scratching, the chair creaking…

                Suddenly, May stiffened and her eyes snapped open. The lazy feeling of sleepiness washed away as she developed an alarming suspicion that she wasn’t alone in the room.

                “You’re finally up,” a childish voice said.

                May shrieked from surprise and jumped up, covering herself with silk sheets as though the fabric could provide her some safety. Breathing heavily, she backed towards the furthest edge of the huge bed and took a look at the invader. She blinked several times, startled as she recognized the small skinny silhouette.

                “Erik?” she coughed out, staring at the little boy from the day before, who was crouching on the oaken chair looking like a wild animal ready to strike. Erik gave her a sympathetic wide smile before it twisted into a childish pout.

                “You said you’ll come to see me at dawn!” he accused May. “The sun had already risen some time ago.”

                The girl let out a heavy sigh as she rubbed the sleep crust out of her eyes, shaking off the rest of her lazy mood. She crawled out of the pillow-filled bed and walked over to the high window. Taking a peek outside at the sun, she crossed her arms on her chest. The boy was right; it seemed that the sunrise was three hours ago.

                “So you came all the way to wake me up?” she asked Erik.

                “Yes,” the boy announced firmly, apparently proud of himself. “you were late so I came to check if you lied to me.”

                May tried to focus at Erik, but something outside the window kept drawing her attention. When the clockwork ticked in her brain, she sharply stared outside at her private garden. The serene place filled with aromatic plants, and shimmering pond was separated from the rest of the palace by athree-meters high stone wall, as smooth as the surface of the glass. How could Erik…possibly

                The child’s gaze followed May’s and he suddenly dropped his cheeky attitude, appearing to feel more uneasy now; he shifted on the chair and smiled unsurely.

                “You still want to be my friend, right May?” he asked quietly, staring at the girl with his big, innocent eyes.

                The hope and anxiety reflecting in the boy’s honey-colored orbs melted May’s heart and made her feel guilty about failing to meet the kid at the dawn. Smiling gently, the girl strode across the chamber and ruffled Erik’s unruly hair.

                “Of course I want to be your friend, silly,” she said encouragingly, making the boy flash a wide cheerful smile back at her. May had to admit, that while being happy, Erik looked like an adorable child, much like her sister Hailey when she was still a little kid.

                “I think I will forgive you this time,” Erik said, a cheeky expression on his face and a playful spark in his golden eyes. “I thought you forgot me, but you’re just lazy.”

                May’s eyes widened, her cheeks covering with a blush.

                “You… I’m not lazy!” she protested, clenching her fists. She huffed, displaying faked anger, but Erik only giggled. May couldn’t help but smile. She shook her head, amazed how quickly the child got her into a good mood. “So, Erik, what should we do today? Any ideas?”

                Erik flashed another adorable, heart-warming smile at May, his face lightened with enthusiasm in an instant. He looked as though it was Christmas.

                “Let’s go fishing!” the boy exclaimed, suddenly energy filling his frail frame. However, when he saw a blank look on the girl’s face, his enthusiasm faded a little. “Um… I guess ladies like Lady May don’t fish.”

                May arched her eyebrow.

                “Don’t you call me a Lady, kid. I’m May, just May,” the girl said, a smug smile appearing on her face. “And never underestimate me. I’m sure I’ll catch more fish than you.”

                Erik stared at her with a mix of amazement and surprise.

                “No way!” he laughed. “You’re a girl. Girls don’t do things like that.”

                May straightened her back and crossed her arms on her chest in a way she thought of as intimidating.

                “Want to bet?” she teased the boy, challenge in her voice. Erik nodded happily. He opened his mouth, as though he wanted to retort, but instead he stiffened, turning his head sideways. His body tensed, but May didn’t pay much attention to the boy’s behavior. She turned her back to him as she opened the heavy lid of richly-carved oaken chest and began rummaging through her wardrobe.

                “I wanted to ask you before,” she said to Erik while trying to pick a dress for today. “How did you even find my bedroom? The palace is quite a big place, not to mention all the guards.”

                When she got no response after a while, she straightened her back and glanced over her shoulder. However, there was no one else in the room.

                “Erik?” May called the boy’s name, looking around. When she spotted the swinging curtains, she ran to the window and surveyed the garden. But, there was no living soul either.

                “No kidding,” May muttered to herself, startled by how suddenly Erik made his escape. With such skills, he could make a career as a burglar, there was no doubt about it.

                When May was about to venture into the garden to make sure if Erik didn’t hide somewhere, a loud knock on the door made her jump.

                “Damn!” she cursed, putting her hand over her racing heart as the sound surprised her. “Come in!”

                The door opened, and May faced sour-faced Hilda. The strict woman’s back was so straight and her posture was so stiff that she looked as though she had just swallowed a stick.

                “Good morning, Maewyn,” she said.

May waved to Hilda and muttered a greeting, noticing another visitor hiding behind the old Lady’s back. It was Leif who began mumbling something incoherent, his eyes darting from May to the floor and back to the girl. The girl furrowed her brows, wondering why her bodyguard suddenly developed nystagmus when Hilda cleared her throat and glared at Leif harshly, making the young soldier set his gaze on the marble tiles beneath his feet.

                “Maewyn, this young man,” the old crone’s voice went cold when she mentioned Leif. “Insisted on seeing you. I believe that it’s time for your prayers in the temple.”

                “Oh,” May uttered. She nodded and waved carelessly with the dress she was holding in her hand. “Okay, just give me a minute.”

                Leif lifted his eyes, but Hilda unceremoniously smacked the young soldier with her fist on his head, her angry glare clearly conveying that staring at the Lady in her nightgown wasn’t the smartest idea. The door slammed shut, and May could hear Hilda’s muffled voice; the old Lady was probably lecturing Leif. The girl sighed, keeping in mind to remember how stuck up the people here, in the world of the Callesmere Empire, were and began getting ready.

                “I need a fishing rod.” May announced to Leif when the two of them were leaving the palace and entering the middle level of the Thoen Stronghold.

                The young man scratched his head, confusion showing on his round boyish face.

                “A fishing rod?” he repeated. “Why would you need a fishing rod?”

                May rolled her eyes and sighed theatrically.

                “What do you think I need it for? Fishing.” She shrugged, ignoring the shocked look on Leif’s face. They have walked in silence for some time, and the staring of the slack-jawed soldier began getting on May’s nerves. “Look, I promised Erik I’d go fishing with him.”

                Leif hunched, not having neither strength nor will to argue with the girl.

                “You mean that orphan from the village?” asked the soldier. He wrinkled his forehead, as though he realized he had forgotten something, but couldn’t exactly put his finger on what it was. Then he remembered and slapped his face with his hand. “Where are my manners! I should address you properly, my Lady.”

                May waved her head dismissively while she was counting the golden coins in her pouch.

                “I really don’t mind,” she muttered, still focused on the gold. Leif bit his lower lip, gazing at May with concern.

                “About fishing, I think you shouldn’t venture outside the village without a bigger escort. It’s too dangerous,” the young warrior shared his doubts with May, but the girl didn’t seem bothered by his fears.

                “The river isn’t far away; it's just outside the village, right? Anyway, you could take some robbers on, couldn’t you?” May finally finished counting the gold and hid her pouch under her dress.

                “I’m serious, my Lady!” Leif raised his voice. “There are worse foes than robbers out there, you could be taken and devoured by demons!”

                May blinked several times before narrowing her eyes at her overprotective bodyguard.

                “Demons?” she arched her eyebrow, giving Leif a skeptical look. “Such things like demons are not real. People made them up to scare children.”

                “They are very real!” Leif protested. “Everyone knows that! They come at night to steal children from their cribs and swallow them whole; their favorite dishes are infants and beautiful young maidens. They can assume any shape they want, like that of a harmless old woman or an innocent-looking child.”

                May sighed while her bodyguard kept repeating the foolish superstitions. She just got reminded that the people in the Callesmere Empire were at the Dark Ages level of development – therefore, it was no wonder Leif was sprouting such nonsense.

                “Leif, did you ever see one of these demons with your own eyes?” she interrupted the young soldier when he was about to betray more details of the so called ‘demons’ and their most fascinating eating habits.

                The warrior’s face expression changed into the particular one of a student being questioned by a teacher in class.

                “N-no…” he stuttered, his confidence plummeting as May stared at him harshly.

                “See?” the girl muttered before clearing her throat. “Anyway, Leif, could you please buy me that fishing rod?”

                “You don’t have to! I’ve got you one!”

                May and Leif turned around when they heard a familiar voice; they saw the orphaned boy, Erik, running towards them with two fishing rods in his hands and a wide smile on his face. Beaming with pride, the boy handed one of the rods to May and then moved so that the girl would be between him and Leif, shielding Erik from the soldier’s eyes.

                The girl glanced at the fishing rod – judging by its looks; it was made of fine wood, which wasn’t probably the cheapest. May narrowed her eyes, suspiciously staring at Erik.

                “Erik, where did you get those rods from?” she asked.

                The boy’s smile faltered a bit as he shifted under May’s piercing gaze. He suddenly found much interest in his own feet, unable to look the girl in the eye.

                “Well, I…” he began.

                “THIEF! Catch him!” suddenly, some woman shrieked and commotion ensued.

                May sighed heavily, shaking her head with dismay.

                “Leif, please settle that so that we could go to the temple,” she said in a tired voice as she handed the young soldier the pouch with gold.

                Several hours later the group of three was sitting on the riverbank. May and Erik were observing the colorful floats with anticipation that was slowly beginning to turn into boredom as the fish didn’t seem to be eager to get caught today. Leif was fulfilling his duty by napping while spread on the grass, sword close to his hand just in case the girl he thought to be a Lady needed saving.

                However, she didn’t. May had the time of her life while spending time with Erik, she found his  company very pleasant. Perhaps it was because the kid distantly reminded May of her sister. Cheerful and talkative, a bit cheeky at times, he was much like Hailey when she was younger.

                She and Hailey never really got along, and if they were talking to each other, they were usually arguing. May sighed, feeling the longing for her family resurface again; now she even wished these arguments with Hailey to return.

                “…and then I poured horse piss in my sister’s soup. She was so mad; you should have seen her face, May!” Erik finished telling May about one of his pranks, his honey-colored eyes glistening playfully. Then he turned his head to the side, listening. The girl furrowed her brows and stilled, trying to discern the noise Erik was apparently hearing, but her ears picked nothing.

                “Erik, what is it?” she asked the boy who all of a sudden got serious and tense.

                “Riders, a lot of them,” Leif answered, having woken up from a nap just a while ago. He pressed his ear to the ground for a moment, listening in focus before standing up and making sure his sword would slide out of the sheath smoothly. “More than a dozen men on heavy war horses, so they’re probably soldiers.”

                Not long after he finished speaking, the ground under May’s feet began trembling slightly and then the rolling sound of hooves came. Instinctively, he got closer to Leif, staring in the direction of the noise.

                The ground shook more when a large group of riders rode out of the forest heading towards the Thoen Stronghold. As Leif had predicted, there were about thirty riders on horses much bigger and stouter than the ones used by Farn soldiers. The men were clad in heavy plate armors that were shining in the bright light of sun rays. The white capes were billowing behind the knights, adding to the dramatic effects. Even the horses were clad in steel; the snow colored fabric draped over their massive silhouettes.

                “Black fish on a white field,” Leif muttered as he squinted his eyes, examining the banners. “The crest of Karhadon.”

                “I think the fish had a crown over its head,” Erik said. “What does that mean?”

                Leif bit his lower lip and readjusted his disheveled leather armor.

                “That a member of Karhadon’s royal family is here,” the soldier said and looked at May. “Lady, it’s time to go home.”

The Pursuit

Thoen Stronghold, Farn

                Erik’s gaze followed May and the soldier who accompanied her until the two silhouettes were out of sight. The boy weighed a fairly heavy package in his hands – it was a gift which his friend brought him.

                “My friend,” Erik said out loud, savoring the word; it felt so nice to have someone to call them that. Smiling goofily and humming a melody popular in Teig Dukedom, the boy skipped towards his camp, hidden at the edge of the forest.

                Moving nearly soundlessly between the trees and bushes, with a skill matching this of a wild animal, Erik made it to his concealed sleeping place and quickly built fire. Careful to keep the flame small and barely noticeable, he sat by it in the wonderful makeshift camp, made of the items May had bought him the day before. Erik could hardly remember, when was the last time he felt so comfy at night. For months, he had to be content with bedding made of branches, leaves and moss. Thanks to his new friend, not only he had a full belly but also the loneliness had been chased away like with a swish of a magical wand.

                The boy unwrapped a neatly prepared package and his eyes brightened, when he discovered, that inside was a big piece of tasty-looking meat marinated in herbs – something directly out of the royalty’s table. Treating the roast as though it was a sacred object, Erik pierced it with a sharpened stick and placed it on a simple wooden construction, patiently waiting for the raw meat to roast. He grinned to himself, already feeling the tempting aroma, which began to pleasurably twist his stomach into knots.

                He was so enticed with anticipating the luxurious meal, that he let his guard down. Suddenly, Erik felt cold, as though the air’s temperature had dropped abruptly. However, the weather was not to blame – it was his instinct, the very same, which allowed him to stay alive that long. He didn’t wait for anything else, but sprung to his feet, frantically searching for the best escape route. However, he heard noises of someone snapping the dry twigs – Erik always placed a lot of those around the camp, so that he would be warned in time if someone or something would try to sneak on him. The boy held his breath, panicked, for he heard the sounds coming from all the directions.

                Erik inhaled sharply, realizing, that he was trapped. They had tracked him today.

However, he was a resourceful child and refused to part with life so easily. The boy looked at the large tree and smiled. If he couldn’t go sideways, he would go upwards.

                With a skill matching a monkey, Erik effortlessly climbed the tree, the thick branches easily supporting his small weight. He kept moving upwards until he heard voices in the camp and stilled.

                “DAMN!” growled a low manly voice, animalistic rage showing in its tone.

                Erik covered his mouth with his hand to stop himself from letting out a tiniest sound; he silently seated himself on a branch, holding his breath. With the hands trembling from panic, he clutched the pendant with a blue gem on a golden chain. Trying to calm himself, he closed his eyes and began soundlessly reciting the words of a prayer. The air around the boy swirled and then his image blurred before his small form blended with the trunk of the tree, barely visible to the naked eye. He flinched, when he heard the voice from before speak again.

                “The brat is gone. He escaped again.”

                “You can’t track his scent?” asked another voice. The first participant of the discussion growled and hit the tree with his fist. The blow was so powerful, that it swayed the huge oak, making Erik grab one of the branches for support.

                “It disappeared. Again,” the first voice muttered. “The brat is sly.”

                “He must have predicted us coming and is probably already on his way. I’d say, he’s heading eastwards, to the sea. He’ll sneak onto a ship and sail southwards,” the other male voiced his opinion.

                “We shouldn’t waste our time, then. Let’s split up and look for him. The boy couldn’t have gone too far. Search in all directions,” a female voice joined the dispute. Erik held his breath even more, afraid to betray his presence to the search party.

                Suddenly, a strange noise was heard somewhere deeper in the forest.

                “What was that?” one of the voices asked nervously.

                “Go check it out. It may be the brat,” the woman decided. As soon as the approving whispers followed the woman’s suggestions, the hunters left nearly soundlessly, just as they appeared. The child decided to keep a low profile in the safety of the tree for a few more hours in case the hunters returned.

                Erik waited until the sun hid beneath the horizon and the darkness covered the world, but no one appeared. He slowly exhaled, blessing his inborn abilities. The air around sparkled, when the boy became visible again. Deciding, that it was safe already, he slid down the tree like a squirrel.

                The boy whirled around and collided with something solid. Slowly, he lifted his head and saw a pair of cold golden eyes staring back at him. Fangs gleamed in the darkness, as the man smiled maliciously.

                “Found you.”

Betrothed

Thoen Stronghold, Farn

                May and Leif barely made it to the top of the Thoen Stronghold when very agitated Hilda intercepted the girl, dragging her away from her bodyguard. Her usually graceful and stoic face was now full of worry as she was staring May down, noticing her disheveled clothing covered in dust and green stains from the grass, the ruffled hair and dirt under her fingernails.

                “You look like a village harlot, Maewyn,” Hilda commented, her voice slightly trembling from poorly concealed nervousness. The old lady quickened the pace, ushering the girl nearly to run at her side. “We need to clean you up.”

                May tried to regain some control and make Hilda slow down, but the grip of the skinny fingers was surprisingly strong for an elderly woman.

                “Wait, did something happen?” the girl asked, feeling edgy because of Hilda’s unusual behavior.

                May nearly fell face-flat onto the marble floor as the old Lady stopped suddenly and firmly grabbed the girl’s shoulders. Hilda bit her lower lip, looking May in the eye, her gaze death-serious.

                “Maewyn, just a moment ago Lord Abrran arrived,” Hilda said quietly.

                “Abrran?” May repeated, trying to remember where she heard that familiar name from. Seeing her confusion, Hilda decided to help her with that.

                “Your betrothed is here.”

                May blinked, staring at the old Lady while her brain was sloppily making a connection. The Lady’s betrothed…

               “Damn,” May whispered, realizing what it meant for her. She didn’t have much time to ponder about her rather poorly-looking situation for Hilda pushed her inside the Lady’s chambers. Before May managed to utter a word of protest, the Lady grabbed a damp cloth and began vigorously rubbing the girl’s face, trying to get rid of the dust.

                “You can’t possibly meet Lord Abrran looking like that!” Hilda huffed, shaking her head with disapproval. “Now, listen. Lord Abrran met you two times already, so please refrain from conversing with him too much. Remember your manners; you should be pure and beautiful like a flower, graceful like a good spirit. Gentle, polite and shy – those are the qualities of a well-raised young Lady.”

                Hilda paused and gave May a stern look, the look which expressed her doubts about May’s ability to behave like Lady Maewyn used to.

                “So… this Abrran guy, who is he exactly? And why is he even here? I thought he was to show up months from now!” May asked, making Hilda sigh heavily with worry. The woman took a calming breath, trying to keep her cool.

                “I do not know, Maewyn. Surely, he has a good reason to come to the Thoen Stronghold unannounced, but it is a matter which should interest neither me nor you. He is here not for the wedding though, I am positive. Now, there are some things you should know. Lord Abrran is the eldest son of Duke Royse, the ruler of neighboring dukedom Karhadon,” Hilda explained patiently as she began brushing May’s tangled knee-length hair. “He is a bright young man, excels at swordsmanship and is a perfect gentleman. Please do try not to offend him with your unladylike behavior. Speaking of which… you used to be a demure well-mannered Lady with voice, which made people cry from happiness, skilled in playing flute and mandolin. You and Lord Abrran met several times already and exchanged letters, therefore, watch your tongue around him.”

                May winced when Hilda forcefully pulled a strand of her ridiculously long hair.

                “Wouldn’t it be easier just to tell him that I lost memories?” she asked uncertainly.

                Hilda paused brushing and straightened her back.

                “If the truth came out that the Lady of the Thoen family is not in her right mental state, your father, the Duke, would lose all respect, the pacts with our allies would be broken. You are the Duke’s only child, Maewyn, and an heiress to the Thoen family. The dukedom of Farn needs Lord Abrran to protect our lands when Duke Thoen is no longer among the living, and he needs a healthy wife to bear him strong sons,” Hilda responded. May flinched at the mere thought of sons.

                “Maybe you could tell him that I was sick,” May suggested; the idea of meeting Maewyn’s fiancé was quite unsettling.

“That is out of the question, Maewyn,” Hilda said sternly. “You are to greet Lord Abrran in good health and behave in his company accordingly. Now, let’s change this hideous rag into something more presentable. After all, you are to attend the royal feast.”

                A moment later May’s eyes nearly popped out of the sockets as her ribs almost got crushed by the most devious torture device ever invented – the corset.

                “Not so tight…” she whined when Hilda kept tightening the laces. “It huuurts!”

                May stood before the entrance to the huge dining hall of Thoen’s palace. With a richly-embroidered, heavy dress on her back and an elaborate hairstyle, she now resembled a true Lady.

                “Do you remember what to say?” Hilda made sure, whispering to the girl.

 May nodded, frantically memorizing the lines she learned a moment ago. The elderly lady nodded and pushed her towards the royal table.

                Cautious not to tangle in the multi-layered overly long dress, May made way towards Duke Thoen. The man’s green eyes brightened when he saw her, and he gave her an encouraging smile. May responded with a faint, nervous grimace and seated herself at her fake father’s side. The Duke nodded with content at the sight of her proper attire.

                “My child, have you begun regaining your memories?” he asked quietly, his lips barely moving as he spoke. May shook her head.

                “I need more praying, I guess,” she whispered back, wondering when the priest from the temple would have the translation of the scroll. With the Lady’s fiancé showing suddenly, she was even more eager to return to Baltimore as soon as possible.

                Then the crude yet melodic sound of horn filled the room, announcing the arrival of the guests from Karhadon. May shifted on her chair and held her breath as the knights in capes with red fish on white entered the enormous chamber. They stepped aside, making way for the one who had to be Abrran.

                May stared at him with wide-opened eyes and slightly slack jaw as he approached the Duke’s table. Duke Thoen stood up, and May did the same.

                The man who was presumably Abrran looked like he was in his mid-twenties. His attire was fancy, quite feminine though – he wore a colorful wide-sleeved robe reaching the ground. It was definitely very expensive with precious jewels and gold sewed everywhere on the fabric. He was tall, and his perfectly shaved face was quite handsome. However, it had that delicate expression, which reminded May of a doll or someone who was addicted to plastic surgeries.

                The Karhadon’s heir walked gracefully towards Duke Thoen and the men exchanged, what the girl learned was a traditional greeting, saying each other titles and slightly bowing their heads.

                “Lord Abrran, son of Duke Royse, the heir of Karhadon, welcome in my home. Accept the place at my table,” Duke Thoen said solemnly.

                “Duke Thoen, I shall be glad to share a meal with you,” the newcomer responded, bowing his head with respect.

                Then Abrran looked at May with longing, casually flipping his braided shoulder-length hair of the color of pure gold. The girl did her best to appear shy and glanced downwards desperately trying to make her cheeks blush. Inwardly, May was cursing the whole foreign world, wishing she could be somewhere, anywhere else in this moment. She bowed with all the grace she could manage.

                “My Lord,” she said in her softest voice, not stopping the cursing in her mind. “I am grateful that the fate let us meet again. I am most impatient for our families to join in the sacred bond of our marriage,” May repeated slightly gagging on the remembered lines.

                Speaking about marriage to some guy she saw the first time in her life was just too awkward, even though she had to admit, that Maewyn’s fiancé was a looker. So far, Abrran didn’t seem to suspect a thing. He smiled at her with his dashing grin, showing all of his teeth and told her the similar nonsense, she had said to him.

                Once the courses arrived, Duke Thoen took on himself to keep Abrran occupied and entertained him with a meaningless conversation. Every time the Karhadon’s heir attempted to speak with May, her father intervened and responded in her stead. The girl couldn’t help but feel extremely thankful to the thoughtful Duke. Her only task was to look good, which meant being like an ethereal being the real Lady had seemingly been. Sitting still like a shadow was unexpectedly tiring, and she wished the feast to end..

                However, May couldn’t stop observing Maewyn’s fiancé, at least out of the ordinary curiosity. At the first glance, Abrran appeared to be an attractive man – handsome, charming, eloquent and kind. Nevertheless, there was a snobby feeling about him, mostly about the way he commented on the poorer subjects. He reminded May of the most popular boys in her school – he had good looks and charm, but was slightly obnoxious. Abrran was not quite her type – she’d prefer a more modest and sensitive guy for a boyfriend.

                “Abrran, what is the real reason of your visit?” Duke Thoen asked Abrran suddenly, his voice quiet so that only people at his sides could hear it, including May. The Lady’s fiancé scratched his chin thoughtfully, uneasiness reflecting on his face. Before responding to the question, he looked around if no one beside Duke Thoen and his daughter would hear what he had to say.

                “It started one lunar cycle ago. The peasants started disappearing. At first, it was a villager or two who didn’t make it home from fields and sea. Then it got worse; entire settlements got empty as though their inhabitants disappeared. Our soldiers inspected the sites, but they found no clues, no tracks, not even signs of resistance – it was like the people just walked away.” Abrran paused, nervously combing his hair with his fingers. “A few days ago we lost contact with Karhof, one of our main ports. It turned out that the people disappeared as well, over eight hundred fishermen.”

                May felt a shiver go down her spine while she was listening to Abrran’s tale. She glanced at the Duke, who knitted his eyebrows and leaned towards the young Karhadonian.

                “Most unsettling. What does Duke Royse expect of me?” May’s supposed father asked. Abrran looked around cautiously before focusing back on Duke Thoen.

                “My father… he downplays the threat, but he wishes to confirm that the alliance between Karhadon and Farn is still strong, strong enough to face any enemy together, like eight decades ago,” Abrran whispered.

                Duke Thoen paled stiffened. Slowly, as if in a trance, he pushed his cup with wine away.

                “Like eight decades ago,” he repeated, his voice was calm, but May could hear well the unrest creeping into it. “Abrran, are you certain that… that they are behind the disappearance of your subjects?”

                 “My father doesn’t think so, but I suspect it may be the case,” the Karhadonian replied. “This doesn’t look like a doing of humans. If it’s like eighty years ago, we must be prepared, more prepared than the last time.”

                Duke Thoen reached for his cup and filled it until the glass was nearly overflowing. Trying to mask his nervousness, he quickly took a gulp.

                “Farn will come with aid if needed,” he announced.

                May was sitting quiet the whole time, not wanting to interrupt the conversation between Abrran and Duke Thoen; she felt as though she was listening to something she really shouldn’t have. However, her curiosity got better of her.

                “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened eighty years ago?” she asked against her better judgment.

                Both Duke Thoen and Abrran flinched, startled by her sudden question, as though they forgot she was even here. Her fake father wrinkled his forehead, his green eyes expressing disapproval.

                “Maewyn, I think it is time for you to retire for the night,” Duke Thoen said firmly in a patronizing tone. “Young maidens such as yourself should not concern themselves with grim matters of wars and politics.”

                The Duke’s words were like a bucket of cold water dumped right onto May’s head. Before she could come with a retort, the Farn’s ruler gestured for servants to come to escort May back to her chambers. She gritted her teeth, glaring at the two men with barely restrained anger, but clenched her jaws – arguing with those men wasn’t worth it.

                “Goodnight,” May hissed out and turned on her heel. Clenching her fists, she stalked towards her chambers, leaving the servants behind.

                “Please, let that damn translation be ready,” she muttered under her nose, repeating the sentence in her mind like a mantra – she needed to stay calm if she was to get out of this wretched place. The door to her chambers nearly flew out of their hinges when she forcefully opened them, and then they rattled when she slammed them close.

                “God, I want out of here,” she whispered. “Or goddess, whatever. I’ll pray to that Illiana figure if it helps me go home.”

                May sighed, thinking that she was in a bad mental shape if she began talking with herself. Absentmindedly combing her hair, she made her way across the room, trying to free herself out of the heavy dress along the way. As she was struggling with the corset, she caught a glimpse of something with the corner of her eyes, of an item which wasn’t here before.

                 Curious, she walked over to the nightstand and picked up a piece of paper; it was addressed to her. She broke a seal and stared at the neatly written runes.

My Lady,

I will await you at the temple tomorrow.

I have good news.             

Your loyal servant,

Arnstein, the priest of Goddess Illiana’s temple

                Good news! May gasped, as she read the message – she had no doubt, that the priest wanted to convey, that the messenger from his acquaintance had arrived and brought the translation of the scroll. Fortunately, the priest’s note was vague, so that no one of the castle would suspect the Lady of some shady things, like reading scrolls about portals to another world. May folded the piece of paper, her smile growing.

                “I’m going home!” she squealed, clutching the letter triumphantly.

Demon Blood

Farn

                Erik pulled his knees to the chest, holding a sob in. When he glanced at the roast stick, that had been placed right before him, his stomach rumbled, reminding that it was the supper time. However, the child looked away, ignoring the tempting smell of the food.

                “Eat,” one of his captors, the big bald one, commanded in a sharp, annoyed voice. He picked up the stick and brought closer to the little boy.

                Erik shook his head, refusing to listen to him. The tall man gritted his teeth and left the child, apparently tired of his defiance.

                The boy bit his lower lip, as tears began welling in his honey-colored eyes. He squeezed them shut and clutched his sapphire necklace, praying to mother goddess Illiana for someone to save him from the clutches of the demons. He wanted to be free and to see May once again.

                Erik put his arms around himself. He shivered slightly, but it wasn’t the cold wind that made him tremble – it was the men. There were two of them: the huge, muscled oaf with a shiny bald head and a prominent goatee, there was also the shorter and slimmer one. The bigger one looked stronger, but the shorter one was the one who terrified Erik the most. He spoke rarely, but his mere presence was intimidating. The boy wished he could get away from him. Even now he could feel the man’s gaze boring into him.

                It was not long until he returned to torturing the boy with the never-ending questions. Erik stiffened as the man strode towards him and stopped right before him. The child focused his gaze on the tips of his boots, too afraid to look up.

                “If you do not eat, you will die eventually,” the man stated the fact. When he didn’t get any response from Erik, he continued. “Do you have a death wish, boy?”

                Erik clenched his teeth, gathering the last bits of courage, and looked up.

                “You can’t make me help you!” he exclaimed passionately, standing up. The tears began welling into his eyes. “I won’t! You can kill me if you want, I don’t care! My family is among the dead anyway!”

                Erik felt his legs wobble under him, half from the fear, partially from the weakness of the hungering body. The boy glanced at his captor, but the man stayed calm, reacting to his outburst only with raising his eyebrow.

                “Do you refer to the dead humans as your family?” he asked amusement in his voice, but the eyes remained icy-cold.

                Then, his hand darted out at an amazing speed, and he snatched Erik’s chin, making the child look him in the eye. Reluctantly, Erik did so. A mocking smirk crept onto the demon’s face.

                “Well, well, golden eyes. How interesting,” he said quietly. “It looks like the blood of my race runs through your veins as well, although watered down.”

                Erik froze at the horrible statement. The blood of the demons’ raced through his veins? The boy remembered the whispers of the servants; they had used to gossip, he was an illegitimate child, that his uncommon abilities came were a work of a demon or some curse, that he was a demon seed. Every time Erik had asked his mother about those rumors, she would only smile sadly and tell him not to let them bother him. However, mother never had said flat out the servants’ talk was a lie… could it be… could it be that the servants were right all along, that the demon was speaking the truth?

                 Erik stared at his captor, horrified. The boy refused to believe it, but deep down, he felt that it must be true. He shook his head violently, refusing to believe his words, but his reaction only fueled her captor’s amusement.

                “It seems we have a half-breed here,” the man laughed and freed Erik, leaving him be at last.

                The boy curled into the ball and squeezed his eyes shut, praying for the nightmare to be over. The words of the demon kept swirling around his head, the memories of the servants whispering appearing repeatedly.  Soon he felt the tiredness overwhelming him. On the edge between consciousness and dream he heard the voices of her captors.

                “Aedain, if the kid doesn’t eat and starves himself to death…” Erik heard the rough voice of the big oaf. “If he dies before the eclipse, we’ll never open the Uaimth Dorchadais. Without the guardian, the door won’t open and the key, only a human can touch it safely, right?”

                “Baltar,” another voice, the cold one, put an end to the bald one’s talking.

                The large demon instantly grunted, but bowed his head respectfully. The shorter of his captors was clearly the one in charge, and the bigger one listened to his every command.

                However, the day travel with the monsters and missing his supper wore the fragile body of the little boy out. He didn’t even know when he fell asleep.

                The two demons were observing him warily; Erik began thrashing on the ground, moaning and clutching his necklace, as though it was making him feel safe.

                “May…” the child moaned in his slumber.

                The bald one leaned on his axe, looking at the child with a hint of pity and curiosity.

                “I wonder who this May is,” he muttered, his eyes fixed on the sleeping boy. “A woman probably.”

                The shorter of Erik’s captors glared at his companion with annoyance.

                “Of course she is a woman, you idiot!” he hissed out. “Your nose must have picked the smell of a human female clinging to the boy, just as mine did.”

                The bald man furrowed his brows, looking baffled.

                “Of course it did. I just didn’t think…” he continued, but his superior interrupted him.

                “Your brain has not produced a single thought in the last century. It would be surprising if you learned to think now,” the shorter of the demons snapped, silencing his companion.

                The leader stared at the child, as a plan began forming around his head. The boy seemed to stubbornly refuse to cooperate and threatening his own life seemed to be insufficient. Therefore, if he wanted to obtain the spear, he needed to provide the child with a proper… incentive, preferably in a form of the person, the half-breed boy kept whining about.

                The man smiled to himself, pleased with his own brilliant idea. He removed his cloak and dropped it onto the sleeping child before turning to his underling.

                “Baltar, watch the boy,” he gave the command, before approaching his faithful winged steed. “Meirch, I require your assistance.”

Spirited away

Thoen Stronghold, Farn

                May leaned against the wall in one of the never-ending  hallways of the Thoen palace. She stretched her toes, tired from roaming around the whole castle. Having been banned to leave the palace during Abrran’s visit, May wasn’t able to see the priest in the temple. However, she had an idea which included using Leif as a courier, who could bring the translated scroll right into her hands. Even so, there was a tiny problem with her plan – she had trouble finding her bodyguard in the palace swarming with people and hide from all the individuals she wanted to avoid at all costs. She nearly bumped into Hilda a couple of times already; the attendant was hunting May since dawn.

                Having caught a little rest, May went on with her search for Leif. She took several random turns and wound up in the Duke’s garden, lost once more.

                “Not again,” May sighed, giving up, for the time being, and sitting upon a bench to catch a break.

                The girl sat in the royal garden, surrounded by the trees that were nearly bending under the weight of flowers. The branches were swaying in the wind; the sound was a lullaby for May’s ears. It was an exceptional moment of peace when the girl's head cleared out of all worries; she could just simply sit under the shade of the trees, relaxing. She closed her eyes, taking in the feeling of the light breeze on her face and the scent of the rain.

She didn’t notice that her betrothed, whom she had been avoiding so carefully, until now, showed up in the garden and made his way towards her.

                “Maewyn,” he said, causing May’s eyes to snap open.

                She was so startled, that she nearly fell off the bench. May lifted her head and mentally cursed, seeing Abrran. The man smiled and sat down on the bench next to her, visibly pleased, that he finally managed to catch her alone and get to speak with her. “I am really happy to see you. We did not have the chance to speak privately yet. Did you miss me?”

                “Eh… sure,” May answered slowly, looking for an opportunity to escape.

                She was worried that pretending to be the Duke’s daughter in front of her fiancé would be a task impossible to handle, despite Hilda’s tips. The Abrran guy was smiling widely and sat on the bench much too close to May for the girl to feel comfortable. She was rather shy around guys, especially the handsome ones, and the situation felt awkward. May pushed herself further from him, but he sat even closer. His eyes were looking at her lovingly, which freaked her out. She never was in a situation like this before. The girl cursed inwardly and reminded herself that she shouldn’t blow her cover.

                You are a butterfly, a butterfly, a damn butterfly, she was repeating in her mind as she forced herself to smile shyly.

                “And you missed me too?” she asked, trying to sound like a weak Lady.

                The man flashed another dazzling smile at her and took her hand. May stared at him and tried to yank her hand free, but he was holding it gently yet firmly, refusing to let go of it. She tried to hint him discreetly that she didn’t wish for the skin contact, but he ignored it. May really felt uncomfortable with some stranger holding her hand, especially that he was the fiancé of the girl, who was currently stuck in Baltimore, just as she was trapped in the Callesmere Empire. She was sure, that the real Lady Maewyn wouldn’t want May to get too familiar to her future husband. She twisted her wrist, freeing her hand from Abrrans’s grasp. May forced herself to smile at him.

                Abrran sighed.

                “I have been yearning to see you, my love. It would ease my heart if you could sing for me,” he said and was obviously expecting her to sing some song.

                Damn, where is that old crone Hilda when you need her? May coughed.

                “My throat is hurting today,” she made an excuse. “And my fingers too,” she added quickly in case that idiot wanted her to play the mandolin, flute or whatever the real Lady Maewyn was specialized in.

                Unfortunately, her fake betrothed got himself in a romantic mood. God, in her world May didn’t have even one boyfriend; she had no clue how she should behave. Why had it happened to her now?

                “Do you remember what you said to me when we first met?” Abrran asked, hope in his eyes, and sat even closer. May wriggled away as he tried to put his arm around her shoulders. She didn’t notice that she was already sitting at the edge of the bench. She fell down with a loud “thud."

                “Crap! Damn you, you moron!” she cursed loudly, rubbing her aching backside.

                Shocked, Abrran stared at her with horror, not believing, that his demure Maewyn knew such vocabulary. He tried to help the girl get back on her feet, but May slapped his hand and managed to do it herself. She sent him a poisonous glare and stalked away, huffing with irritation. Not only the encounter didn’t go well, but now her buttocks were hurting from the fall too.

                She was furious and the man only triggered the accumulated anger. She had enough of this whole Lady-acting, of all those people, of being trapped in this world. She wanted to visit the priest and get the translation of the scroll. The worrying about Erik’s well-being was only adding to her frustration; the child must have been disappointed when she didn’t show up today. She really wished to see the cheerful kid instead of annoying Abrran.

                Be careful what you wish for. The wishes tend to come true in the most unexpected way – May’s dad used to say it a lot. She didn’t know why she remembered this out of sudden.

                May sped up, turning at the corner and dashing into another of the long identical hallways, continuing looking for Leif. However, the young warrior was nowhere to be found. May cursed, as she was running in circles for hours now, searching for the useless guy.

                “I need another plan,” she muttered.

                Tired, May leaned against a wall and was trying to figure out how else she could get to that temple. She didn’t want to wait another day – she was too eager to discover whether the scroll would be able to help her get home. May was stuck in this cursed world for about a week and had enough waiting. She shivered as she thought about all the studying she missed. What was Lady Maewyn even doing? May hoped to get back home before her parents and Hailey were back from their trip. Oh, the return would be tough as she’d have to catch up with the books, but first she’d have to actually return.

                May noticed a familiar silhouette heading her way. Acting on instinct, she turned quickly around the corner and plastered herself to the wall. Damn, of all people, she had to meet the last one she wanted to see – Abrran. After the encounter in the garden, she really had no wish to play a happy fiancée in front of him again. Unfortunately, May wasn’t fast enough to hide and the man found her with an ever-present charming smile on his lips.

                “Maewyn,” he said softly. “I wish to apologize if I upset you in the garden.”

                “Um…” May mumbled, thinking of an excuse to escape.

                Then it dawned on her. The Abrran guy maybe wasn’t the best companion, but the guards would surely let her out of the castle if she was with him. Sounds like a plan, May thought and smiled to herself. She assumed the role of the Lady and cleared the throat.

                “It is me who should apologize. I did not sleep well because of the nerves,” she began, recalling all the movies about the Middle Ages she watched on TV. “I would like to pray at the temple for our marriage, and I was looking for someone to accompany me. Would you like to escort me?”

                May felt as if her tongue would rot from all this politeness. Abrran, however, smiled even more, if it was possible. He gently took her hand and bowed slightly. May winced, feeling extremely awkward again, but didn’t pull her hand out of his. She still needed him.

                “Of course, my love. I shall make preparations immediately. Please meet me at the castle gates in an hour,” Abrran replied. He bowed deeper, flashed her another smile and walked away.

                “An hour?” May repeated, furrowing her brows.

                Why the heck would he need an hour to take a thirty minutes’ walk?

                An hour later May found out. At the gates, Abrran was waiting for her, and he wasn’t alone. A while later she was sitting on a horse, and by her side rode her betrothed. They were accompanied by about a dozen warriors and more or less the same number of servants. May frowned as Abrran motioned his horse to get closer to May.

                “I have personally chosen the gentlest mare for you,” he said to her.

                May arched her eyebrow.

                “I can see that,” she muttered.

                In fact, the horse she was riding on was more like a mule than a horse. May was capable of walking faster than that mare. Additionally, one of the servants was leading the animal, which made her feel as though she was disabled.

                Time was dragging on mercilessly. May was under the impression that her walks with Leif took less time. The girl sighed as she saw the awed eyes of the villagers as the small procession rode through the village. The Abrran’s warriors’ armors were shining in the sun, and the strong wind made the white capes with the emblem of the Karhadon Dukedom billow dramatically. The inhabitants of the lower levels of the Thoen Stronghold and the farmers from the village were gawking at the unusual sight with awe, pointing their fingers at the young Lord and the girl they presumed to be their Lady. May thought that it must be a funny sight, seeing her one day shopping in the market and now making such an entrance… She prayed that her visit at the temple would be worth all this fuss.

                May’s face brightened as she saw the elderly fat priest on the road; the man must have been on his way to the village. May waved to him energetically. The priest raised his hand, as to wave back, but when he saw Abrran riding by her side, he bowed deeply instead. May decided that it’s best not to dismount the horse now – how would she get back on in her formal dress? She took the reins from the servant while kicking the sides of the lazy horse. The animal moved slowly towards the old man. The priest waited for her to say something.

                “Hello,” she said cheerfully.

                “Your grace,” the man greeted her with a huge smile, before lowering his voice. “I think I have the answer you are looking for. Please, come to the temple.”

                “Um… yes and I will pray there,” May said quickly, looking cautiously at Abrran, who listened with interest and maybe some suspicion too.

                “We intend to pray for the happiness in our marriage,” Abrran stated.

                May nodded vigorously.

                “Oh, yes. Definitely,” she agreed maybe too eagerly.

                May was about to ask the priest to go already, when she noticed the old man’s troubled face. He turned abruptly and looked in the western direction, worry in his eyes.

                “Lady Mewyn,” he addressed her, the tension in his voice, as he took out some crystal beads, that resembled a rosary. “Go back to the Stronghold, now. I can sense a powerful aura approaching!”

                “Aura?” May asked, confused. What was he talking about?

                She glanced sideways and noticed that her companions were really scared by the words of the priest. The servants were looking around nervously, as if searching for a safe direction to flee. The warriors drew their swords, surrounding her and Abrran. They formed a ring of steel around the pair, ready to give their lives for their Lord and the Lady. Abrran also ripped out his sword and was observing the surroundings warily.

                “What is this aura?” May demanded, not knowing what was going on. Neither Abrran nor the warriors answered her. Finally, the old priest looked at her over his shoulder.

                “It means that a demon is coming, a powerful one. You must be prepared to flee, my Lady,” he answered.

                May stared at him, not knowing what to think. A demon? May was sure that demons had been just mythical beings created by people’s imagination, but still… Abrran and the warriors seemed to be dead serious about this, which made May nervous. She positioned herself firmer in the saddle and grabbed the reins tighter. And then it began.

                At first May saw nothing, but the horses started to panic. The animals began neighing in fear and moving their legs impatiently, as though they wanted to run away from there. Abrran’s horse suddenly reared and the man had to jerk the reins forcefully and serve the animal a solid kick on the sides, to keep the steed in check.

                “Shh… easy, easy…” May said to her mare, her voice shaking a little, trying to calm down the scared animal.

                Then, a dark storm cloud appeared out of nowhere on the previously clear blue sky; suddenly, it became dim. The thunder rolled, scaring the horses even more, and May swayed in her saddle as the mare danced under her. The girl barely managed to keep her balance; she clenched her fingers on the leather reins tighter, feeling her anxiety rise.

                “Prepare!” the priest yelled and began chanting a prayer to the goddess Illiana.

                May heard a loud roar and saw a strange terrifying shape emerging from the cloud; it was a creature. The girl stared at it – it resembled a horse with bat-like wings. The beast was black like the night itself. Its mane was long and tangled; the tail thin like a leather whip was swishing with every wave of the huge wings. With the outstretched like wings the creature looked a bit like a Pegasus, but it gave off a feeling of a monster instead of a fairy tale being. In the place of hooves, the creature had paws ending with large sharp claws. May squinted her eyes - on the beast there was a man sitting. She couldn’t see him clearly from that distance, but she noticed long, flowing hair, dark as the winged steed. May froze in place. She could only stare – she was just seeing the impossible.

                The nightmarish horse flew closer and roared another time. The rider slipped from the saddle and jumped to the ground. May’s mind was racing. It was over ten meters high. The man should have been dead or at least his limbs should have been broken! However, he landed gracefully and started walking slowly towards the group of the warriors. Now May had the chance to take a closer look.

                The stranger was tall, clad in black. He was wearing an armor, and the two of his swords were stuck over his shoulders. The waist-length jet-black hair was billowing in the wind, while the long bangs surrounded his face. The face features were well defined, but oddly smooth and flawless comparing to roughly-carved faces of Abrran’s soldiers.

                The vibrantly golden eyes were glaring at the people, who were before him. It didn’t escape May’s attention, that the man looked strangely perfect. His face, his posture, everything about him was not simply attractive, but a perfection in every inch. The girl thought, that it was eerie and somewhat inhuman.

The man was standing still and made no move to draw his swords. Instead, he clenched and flexed his fingers. May felt a shiver go down her spine; there was no doubt, that the man was dangerous – the Abrran’s escort looked absolutely terrified of the single opponent, who didn’t even bother to draw his weapons, as though all those warriors were no threat to him.

                “He’s not a human,” May whispered, when she came to the realization, looking at the newcomer with terror and remembering the priest’s words about the ‘others’, the mysterious creatures inhabiting the Callesmere Empire. “He’s one of them.”

                The warriors were glaring at the man, ready to strike at the first command. The man casually continued walking towards them and stopped. He started to observe May’s group warily, as if he was searching for something. Or for someone.

                “What do you want, monster?” the priest demanded, holding his beads in the shaking hand like a shield.

                The stranger didn’t answer; he kept looking at the faces of servants; the warriors seemed not to have his attention, and then he looked straight in May’s eyes. She froze as their gazes met. His eyes were golden, cold and expressionless. The eyes of a predator, she thought. The girl shifted under his scrutiny and felt some kind of primal instinct awake in her – instinct of the prey to run from the hunter. The man smirked, which scared the girl even more.

                “You are May,” the man stated simply, not averting his eyes from her.

                His voice was deep and calm, so calm, that it was creepy. May opened her eyes wider. How did he… the girl stiffened – that inhuman person had just said her real name, even though no one should know it. How was that possible? She paled and clutched the reins tighter, until her knuckles went white; she wanted to stop her hands from shaking. The scary stranger’s eyes were not leaving her, making May’s fear spike. She had no idea why, but then he… this man came for her – she was sure of that. The mere thought was freaking her out.

“Demon! Be gone!” the priest yelled suddenly.

                The rosary flew from his hand in the direction of the black-haired man, the thread ripping apart and the beads darted like bullets. The stranger shifted his attention from May and quickly reached out with his hand to shield himself from the priest’s spells. The winding crimson glowing lines began covering his skin – the hands, the neck and even made their way towards the face; the markings looked like a tribal tattoo.

                The ground began shaking, and smaller rocks around the stranger began levitating as though some invisible force lifted them. May squinted her eyes as a flash of red light nearly blinded her. The priest’s beads were immediately destroyed, turning into dust as they came in contact with the glowing aura surrounding the man. The light disappeared as quickly as it appeared. The old man took a step back, terrified by the demon’s power.

                If May doubted that the stranger was a supernatural creature before, now she was entirely sure of that.

                Abrran motioned his horse to get between May and the monster.

                “Maewyn,” he said quietly, looking at May seriously. “On my sign, ride to the castle and do not look back, no matter what.”

                May nodded quickly and watched Abrran rode closer to the demon. The girl had to admit that her betrothed was brave.

                “Monster!” Abrran addressed the demon. “Leave now or you shall be slain!”

                However, the demon showed no intention of leaving. He stood still the whole time, looking slightly annoyed. Abrran lifted his sword.

                “Attack!” he commanded. The warriors rushed towards the demon with a battle cry. The black-haired man didn’t even bat an eyelid. He only lifted his hand again, flexing and clenching his fingers. Abrran looked May in the eye.

                “Maewyn! Now!” he yelled.

                May didn’t hesitate. She pulled the reins, turned her horse and forcefully kicked its sides. The mare leaped forward and rushed toward the castle, the hooves beating against the ground in an erratic rhythm. Due to the speed, everything was blurry – the surroundings looked to May like colorful smudges, and the sounds were howled down by the wind. Though she heard the clank of metal as the warriors rushed to attack and shortly after pained screams followed. The screams of the dying men – she realized. May ushered the horse to go faster. The screams died down, and she could hear now only the blowing wind. Suddenly, she noticed something in the corner of her eye, but she couldn’t make out what it was. Then, just in her way, the black-haired demon appeared out of nowhere. Her mare neighed in panic and reared. May tried to regain the control over the horse, but it got even more scared. The girl lost her balance and flew out of the saddle. She felt the sharp pain as her body made contact with the ground. Her mind went blank when her head hit a stone.

The Flight

                May whimpered as she slowly began regaining consciousness. Her whole body was sore, and her head felt like exploding; the nauseating sensation developed in her stomach. She felt the cold wind blow in her face and heard a strange monotonous sound, just as if someone kept shaking a leather coat. Her eyelids felt too heavy to lift them. May shifted and tried to nestle herself more comfortable, as she was pressed against something hard, which made her bruises from the fall only more painful. She carefully drew a breath, a shallow one, because she felt pressure on her stomach, preventing her from inhaling the air properly. May slowly opened her eyes, her vision blurry.

                And she closed them again immediately, thinking that her brain must have had a sort of malfunction as a result of hitting her head. She opened her eyes once more and saw fluffy ethereal white objects around. With horror, she realized what they were - the clouds. May carefully glanced down and regretted it. She was sitting on in the saddle on some kind, but the creature was no ordinary horse. It was the creature from before – the winged beast. Its dark long tangled mane was billowing as the leathery wings batted the air. Below the animal, she saw distant ground, trees and even buildings. They were very far away though. May paled as she realized that the creature, she was on, was actually gliding across the sky high above the ground. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying for it to be just a bad a dream. However, when she opened them again, nothing changed – she was still flying high above the ground on the monster’s back.

                Terrified, she instinctively searched for something to hold onto; May gripped the edge of the saddle so desperately that her fingers went white. She began trembling, her breathing shallower.

The girl felt the pressure on her stomach increasing. Slowly, she turned her eyes on its source. An arm clad in a steel vambrace was wrapped tightly around her stomach, holding her waist and the reins. She froze in terror. Who was holding her? May kept staring at the arm, too scared to look behind her. After a while, she shifted slowly in the saddle and looked over her shoulder.

                May was already expecting it, but nonetheless, she gasped in shock. Behind her sat no one other than the black-haired demon. She stared at him in horror. The man was towering over her, even as they both were sitting – the top of May’s head didn’t reach anywhere near his shoulder. She nearly had to twist her neck to look upwards. The girl was pressed tightly against the breastplate of his armor, not being able to move freely. The man was looking at the horizon; his face showed no emotion. Then he looked down at May. She shivered as her eyes met his cold gaze. She felt as if she was a cornered prey and panicked. Instinctively, May tried to push herself away from him, but he only tightened his grip, nearly crushing her ribs. She continued to struggle with him as he narrowed his golden eyes and emitted a growl. That caused the girl to stop for a moment.

                “Stay still, woman,” he said to her harshly, his voice giving out his irritation.

                However, May didn’t listen to him and kept trying to wriggle out of his steel grip, so tight she couldn’t even draw a proper breath.

                “Let me go!” she screamed at him. The demon didn’t budge, clearly unimpressed by May’s frantic attempts to set herself free.

                “Let go of me!” May didn’t stop screaming. Suddenly, she felt the pressure on her stomach disappear, as the man removed his hand. Then, without any warning, he pushed her from behind. May felt herself slipping from the saddle and tried to grasp something, anything, that would prevent her from falling – she didn’t make it.

                May fell off the creature’s back only to stop in midair. Her limbs were dangling; she saw the solid ground in the distance. Her heart felt like it stopped for a good while, and her vision went blurry from fear. She would surely die if she hit it from this height. She closed her eyes, expecting the impact but felt nothing. The girl slowly opened them after a brief moment to discover that she didn’t fall. The demon was holding her sash. He pulled her roughly back on the saddle. May hissed from pain as she felt her bruised body slam into his armor. The man placed his arm around her waist again and looked as if nothing had happened.

                May couldn’t calm herself down; she had just nearly died. The girl was repeating to herself to keep cool head and not to panic. She tried to control her hitched breathing as she analyzed the situation she was in. She was in the foreign world and just got kidnapped by a monster who almost killed her just now. She didn’t actually see it, but she was almost sure, that he had singlehandedly murdered Abrran and all his best warriors. What on earth was he?

                The girl exhaled slowly, trying to remain composed despite the situation. She needed to stay calm and alive. Especially staying alive was a top priority. She decided that the man didn’t want to kill her, at least not right away. If he wanted, he had already had plenty of chances. Then why did he kidnap her? May couldn’t think of a logical answer. And how did he know her real name?

                May yelped as she felt his grip tighten again and crush her ribs. She hissed from the pain and looked at her captor over her shoulder.

                “You’re crushing my ribs. It hurts,” she said to him, her voice slightly shaking as she was terrified of the man. He said nothing, didn’t even bother to look at her, but the pressure lessened a bit. May decided to be polite for her own safety.

                “Thank you,” she said.

                Yet again, she received no answer. Actually, she was relieved because the man’s voice crept her out even more.

                May had never been so scared in her life; kidnapped by a cold-blooded killer, she didn’t know what would happen to her. One thing was sure: returning home now was out of question. First, she had to know what exactly was going on, and she feared that to do that she had no choice but to ask the terrifying man who had kidnapped her. She shifted in the saddle and looked up at his face, unsure how to start a conversation without angering him and getting herself killed in the process. She stared for quite a while when the man glanced down at her with visible annoyance.

                “What is it, woman?” he demanded.

                May unknowingly flinched at the sound of his voice. She averted her eyes from him, not having enough guts to look directly him in the eye.

                “Umm…” she started. “What are you going to do to me? What do you want? Why…”

                The man growled and sent May an angry glare.

                “Enough!” he hissed. “Be silent or I will kill you.”

                May shut her mouth immediately. The man was dangerous and she definitely didn’t want to get herself murdered. However, she really needed to get some information about her captor and his intentions towards her.

                “Err…” she began, careful not to anger the man. “My name is May.”

                May waited for some kind of reaction, but there was none. At least, he didn’t threaten to kill her, yet. She decided to carry on.

                “What’s yours? You have one, right?” she asked the demon carefully. There was only silence. After a longer while he finally spoke up.

                “Aedain mab Keallach de Ruanaidh,” he stated, not looking at May.

                The girl blinked, hearing the long name. How was she supposed to remember that?

                “Oh,” May uttered, surprised that he, in fact, did answer her question.

                The name was awfully long and nearly impossible to remember. Aedain ma… something… can’t it be shorter? She unsuccessfully tried to recall the whole name, but it really was too long. She decided to call him Aedain from this day forwards as she couldn’t remember the rest of his name anyway. She stole another glance at her stoic captor and prayed, that she wasn’t pushing her luck. “What are you?”

                The man didn’t answer, his face emotionless as though it had been carved in stone. May paled, when she noticed the small vein in his temple beginning to pulse dangerously. She mentally cursed herself for her stupidity – she had just pissed the monster off.

                “I’m so…” she wanted to apologize quickly, but the words stuck in her throat when the man glared at her warningly.

                “Silence,” he hissed out through the clenched teeth. May instantly clenched her jaws shut and hastily nodded. The golden-eyed captor finally looked away from her and the girl slowly let out the breath she was holding. Then, much to her surprise he answered her question. “I am one of the Laismarans. Humans call my kind demons.”

                May stiffened, when Aedain himself confirmed her worst suspicions. The man who kidnapped her was not human, but a demon. Indeed, it was the best word to describe the kind of creature he was. It turned out, that her fear of him was perfectly justified.

                Then the girl felt herself lose balance as the winged creature, on which both she and Aedain were riding, started to fly lower. She frantically tried to reach for the saddle to grab on to something to support herself, but she couldn’t reach because of the demon pressing her to himself. As the nightmarish steed doved downwards, May could see the nearing ground and freaked out. She turned abruptly to Aedain and wrapped her arms around his waist. She pressed herself tight against him, desperate not to lose a hold of him and fall off the steed.

                The winged creature circled above a clearing in the forest and landed. Feeling, that they were no longer in the air, May slowly opened her eyes and pulled herself from the man, a little ashamed that she grabbed a stranger like that. She blushed abruptly and started blabbering nervously.

                “Um… Oh… sorry for that. But I was scared that I will fall, and I had nothing to hold on to… and my fear of heights…”

                “Woman,” Aedain said warningly, annoyance visible in his eyes. May stopped talking.

                The demon gracefully got off the beast’s back and grabbed unsuspecting May by her sash. Before the girl even had the chance to notice what was happening, he shoved her unceremoniously from the saddle. She yelped and fell on the ground with a loud thud like some sack of potatoes, gaining more bruises. May clenched her fists and glared at Aedain.

                “What was that for?!” she screamed as she started to get herself back on her feet, fighting with the numbness in her legs and the numerous layers of the silk skirts.

                Her beautiful royal attire was now dirty and torn, the long hair disheveled and the decorative golden circlet missing. She cursed quietly to herself and stiffened as she felt something poking her shoulder. She turned her head to see what it was and gave out a cry of fear and surprise. Aedain’s steed sniffed her curiously, the beasts red eyes glowing playfully. May’s eyes widened when the beast parted its jaws, showing row of long, sharp, needle-like teeth. She cautiously backed away, not really willing to find out if the creature wanted to hurt her or not – it looked carnivorous enough.

                She made a few steps back when she slammed into something. She turned around to see a very disgruntled Aedain. The demon gave her his scariest  look and grabbed her arm. Then he began walking down the path, dragging May behind him. The black stallion followed them, folding the leathery wings and trotting a few steps after them.

                “Wait! Let me go!” May protested and tried to wiggle herself from Aedain’s grip, but it made no impression on him; he didn’t even slow down.

                She jerked her arm desperately, but he grabbed her tighter instead of letting go; his fingers dug into her arm with an inhuman force. May yelped in pain, but stopped struggling, not wanting to give him a reason to do her even more harm.

                The girl knew that he was capable of killing her - she remembered the screams of slaughtered warriors. She flinched. What mess has she gotten herself into? Would she get out of it alive?

                Finally, Aedain stopped and May bumped into his back. She took a look of her surroundings. The demon led  her to a camp. By the fire was sitting a huge man in an armor similar to Aedain’s. He was bald, with black goatee decorating his chin. He must have been well over two meters tall, and his body build nearly screamed: steroids. May flinched when she was a battle axe resting near the man.

                As he saw Aedain’s arrival, he nodded in a simple gesture of respect. May noticed that his eyes were golden, just like Aedain’s.

                Then, May noticed another person in a camp, who could be easily overlooked as an oversized black cloak was covering the little figure. A small hand reached for the hem of the fabric and slipped it off the head. The girl’s eyes widened, when she saw blonde, ruffled hair and innocent honey-colored eyes staring back at her.

                “Erik,” she whispered.

Taken hostage

                May was startled to see Erik in such a place, with the demons. Nonetheless, it became clear to her how Aedain knew her real name - May had told it only to one person: Erik. The child must have revealed it to the monster, who had kidnapped him. May realized with horror that she brought all this mess on her herself the very day she saved the orphan from the villagers.

                Erik was staring at May with wide-opened eyes, disbelief flickering in them, as though he thought of the older girl as a hallucination. Tears began welling in his golden eyes as the boy jumped onto his feet, throwing the oversized cloak away and darted straight towards May.

                “May!” he exclaimed, trapping the girl’s legs in the embrace.

                The child clung onto her as though his life depended on it, the fingers digging into the silk of May’s dress. The girl heard a muffled sob and quickly returned the hug, pressing the kid closer to herself, stroking the blonde head in a calming gesture.

                “Everything will be all right,” May said quietly, trying to sound confident, but she didn’t believe it herself. Her words seemed to have the opposite effect on Erik than she desired – the boy began wailing as the emotional dam broke, exposing the child’s vulnerability. The girl kept patting the kid’s back, not knowing what to do.

                “Erik,” May began, trying to think of something comforting.

                “It’s my fault!” Erik cried, refusing to look the girl in the eye. Another sob shook his little body. “It’s because you met me!”

                May didn’t know what to answer. What Erik said was partially true, but the child couldn’t blame himself for the evil monsters kidnapping May. The girl lifted her gaze and met Aedain’s eyes. The demon was staring at the two of them, without a single emotion playing on his face – no compassion, no remorse, nothing. It was apparent for her that he had no human heart. The man glanced at the sobbing child.

                “Be silent, boy. Men never cry,” he said harshly, a hint of irritation showing in his voice. He furrowed his dark brows, the grimace on his face intimidating.

                Erik immediately fell silent, holding the sob in, along with his. May felt the child shiver slightly – he was clearly terrified of the demon. She perfectly understood why – she feared her captor too. May clutched the kid tighter, trying to encourage the boy a tiny bit and looked at Aedain, furrowing her brows.

                “What do you want from us?” she demanded with all the confidence she could muster.

                Aedain frowned, hearing her question. The blazing golden eyes looked at her hatefully.

                “Your tone is less than appropriate, human,” Aedain said quietly, the reprimand sounding like a death threat. He began strolling towards the pair. “I advise you to think twice before you belittle those, who are better than you.”

                May gritted the teeth, hearing the horribly arrogant statement, but bit her tongue – she didn’t want to say anything that would cost her and Erik’s lives. When Aedain finally stopped, he was standing a little too close, which made May feel uncomfortable. She motioned Erik to hide behind her, and she was acting like a human shield, protecting the child from the demon. He looked intimidating to May as she was relatively short compared with her peers; she had to tilt her head to look on his face. The top of her head didn’t even reach his shoulder. His cold gaze bored into her. She wanted to take a step back from him, but May knew better – it wouldn’t be clever to show weakness right now.

                “Woman,” he addressed her. May furrowed her brows slightly.

                “Woman”? I have a name, she thought angrily.

                “It’s May,” she said stubbornly, looking back at him with a little more courage. However, Aedain didn’t seem to be impressed by her confident attitude in the slightest. His face expression didn’t change a bit.

                “Your duty is to take care of boy’s well-being and attend to his needs. You will not disobey me; you will not attempt to escape, or I will kill you. If the boy dies, you perish as well. Do you understand?” Aedain demanded in a voice that allowed no defiance.

                May nodded slowly, not really knowing how she should respond to that. Did the demon just say that he wanted her to be the Erik’s babysitter? He kidnapped her for that? And murdered all those innocent people? Somehow she didn’t believe that it was his true agenda.

                “Boy,” Aedain shifted his attention from May to Erik, who was shivering like a leaf in the wind, hiding behind the girl. “If you continue to disobey me, this woman will die. And it will not be pretty; you have my word for that.”

                Both May and Erik stiffened at the demon’s words. The teenage girl was nearly shaking from fear because of the death threat. Now it became clearer – she was a hostage used to blackmail the child into doing whatever Aedain wanted from Erik. May stole a peek at the kid, who was staring at the tall demon with tears in his eyes, his pale lips trembling as he embraced May tighter. The silence was dragging on while Aedain glared at Erik apparently awaiting him to answer. Finally, the child spoke.

                “I…” he began, his voice weak. “I’ll help you. Just don’t hurt May. Please don’t hurt her.”

                Aedain smiled; the smile made May a shiver go down her spine. She saw that his eyes remained cold and merciless, like icebergs.

                “Very well. Good choice, boy. Now, move out,” he said with a sickening satisfaction in his voice, turned on his heel and started walking away.

                Aedain’s big bald companion stood up and followed him, the black winged stallion also started trotting behind his master. Erik took May’s hand and started dragging the her towards the demons, nonverbally showing her to hurry up.

                “May, we need to catch up to them. Come on!” the child urged her, nervousness in the honey-colored eyes.

                May followed him, not knowing exactly what to do. If she and Erik tried to escape now, the black-haired demon would kill her. May doubted that it was merely an empty threat; he seemed to be used to killing without a second thought. She couldn’t help but feel curious, why Aedain kidnapped Erik in the first place. It was clear, that the child was a far more important hostage than May. She wanted to ask Erik about that, but in the close presence of their captors, it would be stupid. For now, it would be best to do what the tall demon said and not to behave suspiciously. They’d run away in the night.

                As they were following their captors, May managed to take a good look at the demon, who happened to be the boss here. He was clad in fancy light crimson armor, which resembled those of Chinese warriors, over black clothes. The armor looked like it was a fine piece of craftsmanship – it looked both elegant and fearsome, not obscuring the demon’s movements. The armors and chain mail of the warriors May saw in the Thoen Stronghold, and Abrran’s men were paling in comparison, seeming to be too heavy and coarse. The black winding patterns adorned the black-painted steel of the cuirass and faulds. The plackart and the spaulders were plain, without any decorations. The man wore knee-high boots and vambraces of black leather. The handles of two swords stuck over his shoulders.

                Aedain’s big silent companion wore similar armor, but his was plain and of the shade of the navy blue.

                While she kept staring at the demons’ armored backs, May’s thoughts returned to the mysterious case of Erik. She glanced at the innocent-looking boy, who was walking by her side, holding her hand. What possibly could the violent and fearsome demon like Aedain want with a little child? May thought, that perhaps there was more to Erik than it appeared. Maybe the kid wasn’t who he said to be? May looked at Erik with suspicion. It didn’t escape her attention, that the child possessed one particular trait in common with Aedain and his bald companion – the unnaturally golden eyes. He could be a demon in disguise, couldn’t he?

                “Erik, you’re a human, right?” May asked the boy.

                The child paled instantly, as if reminded of something unpleasant, but then smiled forcibly and nodded.

                “Yes, of course,” Erik said unnaturally firmly like he was convincing himself that it was true.

                Before May could respond, loud, crude laughter resounded through the air, making both the girl and Erik cower in fear. May looked up and saw the source of the laughter heading their way – Aedain’s huge companion was approaching with a wide smile on his roughly-carved face. May gulped, as she looked up at his gigantic form – Aedain was tall, but this guy’s height was ridiculous; her head was somewhere around the level of his stomach.

                “That was a nice joke, kid,” he snorted eying Erik and May from above. “You’re a half-breed; any Laismaran can sense it.”

                Erik shook his head. Tears began welling into his eyes. However, the child’s reaction only fueled the man’s need to torment him. He bent down, so that he could be more or less on the eye-level with the sniveling Erik. He narrowed his eyes and then turned to his superior.

                “Hey, Aedain, remember that bastard from the Clan Iomaire, the one who was boasting how he raped the Guardian’s daughter? You know, the one you killed a year ago or so?” the bald demon called to Aedain.

                The long-haired man frowned, apparently irritated by the interruption in the journey.

                “Yes, Baltar, I do remember that weakling,” Aedain said patiently, folding his arms. “This boy is probably his bastard. Now get moving before I kill you.”

                The demon named Baltar grimaced like a scolded child. He let out an amused snort and reached down to ruffle Erik’s hair.

                May reacted right away and snatched the crying child out of his reach, defending it like a lioness protects her cub. The girl glared up at the bald brute.

                “Don’t you dare to lay a finger on him!” she spat angrily, pressing Erik to herself.

                Baltar’s face expressed surprise; clearly, he expected her rather to cry from fear, like most human women would do in her situation. But then wide smile returned to his face, as though he just found an opportunity to have fun.

                “Or what? You’re going to fight me?” he mocked May.

                The girl gritted her teeth, but said nothing; she knew better than provoke a mass of muscles who was over half meter taller than her. However, her lack of reaction encouraged Baltar.

                “Not so tough now? As expected from a lowly human,” he said, clearly insulting May.

                The girl felt her blood boiling in her veins. She was scared, but anger was stronger than fear at the moment.

                “A lowly human? That was supposed to be an insult? Try harder, you… you… monster!” she shouted at him against her better judgment, not being able to think of a better insult at the moment.

                Baltar clenched his fists, enraged, and May glared upwards at him with surprisingly much courage. As the stare contest continued, neither the huge demon nor the girl noticed Aedain standing at some distance from them, glaring at the pair with clearly murderous intentions in his eyes. Erik noticed his anger and tugged May’s sleeve, but the girl didn’t react.

                In a heartbeat, the black-haired demon appeared right in front of May, between her and Baltar, emitting an aura of rage. Without saying anything, Aedain fluently spun around, aiming a powerful kick accurately at the face of his comrade. May could have sworn that she heard the skull crack when Aedain’s foot made contact with the side of Baltar’s face. The huge warrior flew through the nearest tree like a rag doll, smashing through the trunk like it was made of cardboard.

                The girl yelped in surprise and fear; she was sure that Aedain just killed his companion. She tried to take a step back, but he grabbed May’s arm, the one he had bruised earlier, keeping her in place. She whimpered from pain as his grip tightened. He looked at her, anger in his eyes, and May immediately regretted drawing his attention to her.

                “I ordered to move out, and you disobeyed. Do you have a death wish, woman?” he asked calmly. May quickly shook her head. “Do not anger me anymore. I despise humans as yourself; pathetic, treacherous and weak beings you are.”

                He released her arm and stalked away. May wasn’t able to stop herself from shivering. Aedain scared the wits out of her. Panting, she looked toward the direction, Baltar flew. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the bald demon get up and join the group. May was sure he should have had his neck twisted or skull cracked. Apparently, these demons were tougher than she thought.

                She decided that she had to escape no matter what. May was under the impression that with her temper, it wouldn’t be long until Aedain was mad enough at her to murder her.

                She rushed after the demons with Erik at her side, keeping a safe distance between her and Meirch, who obviously didn’t like her – the demonic steed kept baring its teeth at her. Erik began asking about Leif, but May didn’t really pay any attention to the child. She kept looking in front of her and trying not to think about how horrible the situation she found herself in was. As if it wasn’t enough to be magically transported to the other world, she just had to get kidnapped by some demonic psychopath. Was there no limit to the bad luck?

                As the sun was setting, May began feeling exhausted. They were traveling for half of the day, and she was pretty sure she had horrible blisters on her feet. Her whole body was sore from falling from the horse, then off Meirch and from being dragged by Aedain. She winced as she moved a little with her wounded left arm. She was in quite a pitiful state right now. In the morning, she looked beautiful like a princess and now… her really expensive dress was torn and dirty, and the sleeve stained with her blood. Her long hair was a nuisance; it was so tangled that May wondered if she would manage to comb it. The princess’s attire wasn’t suitable for treks; it was unbearably heavy and moving in it was quite a challenge, not to mention breathing in the tight-lanced corset. May had to keep the hem of her dress lifted all the time not to trip and land face-flat on the ground.

                It was getting dark, but Aedain didn’t seem to have an intention of stopping for the night. He only made a brief pause in the marching to lift Erik onto Meirch’s back. The black-haired demon ordered the child to sleep and urged the rest of the group to keep moving, much to May’s despair.

                The girl didn’t notice a stone in the dark and tripped. She groaned as she landed on the ground. She struggled with her numerous layers of clothing to get up as Baltar looked over his shoulder, and much to May’s surprise, returned to haul her up by her collar and yank her up back onto her feet.

                “Thanks,” she muttered to him and rushed to catch up with Aedain and Meirch, limping a little, as her feet hurt. Baltar looked at her, crossing his arms on the chest.

                “If you can’t keep up, you should get on Meirch,” he said to May, his voice surprisingly devoid of hatred or any other mean intentions. The girl glanced toward the winged stallion and shivered inwardly, looking at Meirch’s furry clawed paws.

                “No way I’m getting on this thing,” she said and continued limping forward.

                Suddenly, Aedain stopped and looked at his big companion.

                “Baltar,” he addressed him. Baltar groaned in response. “Set a camp here.”

                May sighed with relief and just sat down where she was standing. She watched as Aedain lifted Erik from Meirch’s back, surprisingly gently, as though the child was a porcelain doll, and laid him carefully on the ground. He reached for his black cloak, which lay swung over the steed’s saddle, and covered sleeping Erik. May furrowed her brows, thinking that such considerate actions seemed to be out of character for the demon, who was a cold-blooded killer. Perhaps even such a cruel person as Aedain had some restraints when it came to mistreating children.

                Nevertheless, May thought that she would be dead soon if she stayed with those demons any longer. If Aedain didn’t kill her, those treks would. She made a decision: tonight she would escape.

The Escape

                As the night went on, May was laying on the bare ground, her arm under her head. She pretended to be asleep and waited for a convenient moment to slip out of the camp. She opened her eyes slightly, not wanting to give out that she was awake, and took a look around the camp.

                The campfire was still burning, the flames dancing playfully and casting a little light on her kidnappers. Erik was soundly asleep and so was Baltar, snoring quite loudly. May squinted her eyes, trying to figure out if the steed called Meirch was sleeping as well. The beast was laying on the ground, its head tucked under one of the wings.

                All right, safe.

                Now the last one left. May turned her eyes to Aedain. He was sitting on the opposite side of the campfire, leaning his back against the tree; his eyes closed. The black-haired demon had his armor still on, and the two swords rested against his shoulder. His face was peaceful and May assumed that he was asleep. She wasn’t sure though.

                Well, there is only one way to find out, May thought and lifted herself off the ground slowly, not taking her eyes off the demon, waiting for any reaction. There was none, he was sitting still all the time. Taking it as a good sign, the girl slowly crawled towards sleeping Erik and began delicately shaking the child. However, the tired kid was sound asleep. May glanced nervously at Aedain. Seeing no signs of danger, she covered the boy’s mouth with one hand and pinched his cheek.

                Erik’s eyes fluttered open and May muffled the startled cry. She lifted her finger to her lips, gesturing the child to be quiet. The boy nodded, nervously looking around. Warily watching Aedain and the other two demons, May slowly stood up and pulled Erik up.

                Holding their hands, the two of them made their way to the forest, taking one step at a time, careful not to step on some twig, rustle with the fabric of the dresses or even breathe loudly, afraid to wake the demons up. May knew, that if Aedain caught her and the kid, they would be dead meat. She was nervously glancing back from time to time at the demons, checking for any signs of danger. When they finally reached the edge of forest, she started marching faster, not letting go off Erik’s hand.

                Neither of them uttered a word, they were still carefully looking under their feet and keeping quiet. May refrained herself from running until she was out of the demons’ hearing range.

                If May looked back now, she would see a pair of golden eyes opening to watch her and Erik warily.

                May found a path and followed it. Her escape didn’t go as smooth as she pictured it. Although it was full moon and stars were shining brightly, the trees cast a dark shadow. It was difficult for her to see where she was going and had to walk really slowly at avoid tripping and alarming anyone in the camp. The branches were catching on her long dress and hair.

                Erik kept tripping too, but was very brave for a kid and endured the hardships without a word of a complaint. The little boy was silent all the time, obediently following May. However, finally, he shared his doubts.

                “May, we should go back. They’ll catch us,” Erik whispered quietly, fear in his voice. May squeezed the child’s hand encouragingly.

                “Don’t worry. They won’t notice a thing until morning,” she whispered back, honestly hoping for her words to be true. She smiled to the kid and carried on fighting their way through the thick bushes.

                May cursed as her long silk sleeve got caught by a branch again. She struggled with a tree to free her sleeve and wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings.

                “What are you doing, woman?” She heard a cold voice right behind her.

                May felt all color leave her face and a shiver go down her spine. I’m so dead! She thought frantically, ripping her sleeve, as she pulled it in panic. Erik let out a surprised squeak and glued himself to May, clinging onto her like baby koala to its mother. May slowly turned around to see angry Aedain, standing not a few feet from her. How did he get here so fast? His face was calm, but May could see wrath in his eyes. She was sure he would kill her this time. May was so scared that she couldn’t think clearly.

                “Oh,” May uttered, desperately trying to figure out, what to do. Should she take Erik and run? She had no chance – Aedain had longer legs and would be only madder if he had to chase them. May tried to keep her head cool. “It's not what you think! We weren’t going to escape!”

                The demon arched his eyebrow, expressing his doubt about the honesty of her words. May cleared her throat and made her best to sound confident.

                “I only wanted to bath. I was looking for some water; I took Erik for company,” she said quickly, thinking, that was a very poor excuse. “I really need it. The bath.”

                “In the middle of the night?” Aedain asked, clearly unconvinced to her stupid story. He looked slightly less pissed off, more like he was amused, in a sadistic way. May smiled faintly.

                “I didn’t want to wake you all up,” she answered, cursing in her mind, because it sounded just so dumb… she felt Erik cling to her more, as though the child wanted to melt into her side and disappear. May felt protective of the kid – the escape was her idea and didn’t want the boy to bear the consequences of the failed attempt.

                “I wasn’t Erik’s fault; it was entirely my idea,” May stated firmly.

                Aedain glared at her, and May fought her urge to turn on her heel and flee as fast as she could.

                “Return to the camp immediately.” The demon broke the uncomfortable silence at last, pointing his finger towards the campfire.

                Erik obediently let go off May’s dress and marched in the direction Aedain showed. May rushed after him.

                “You stay, woman.” The demon’s voice stopped her.

                She turned her head to look at him and saw the dangerous seriousness on his face. Erik also stared at him and then at May, unsure what to do. Aedain narrowed his eyes, impatience all over his face, as he made a hurrying gesture aimed at Erik. The child gulped and ran to the camp, leaving May behind.

                The girl wasn’t moving, feeling as though she was standing on a mine. She clenched her fists, trying to prevent her hands from shaking. She was terrified – what Aedain planned on doing with her? Whatever he had in mind May was absolutely afraid of it.

                “Follow me,” the demon said dryly once Erik made it to the camp, and started walking away.

                May hesitated for a moment and then rushed after him, thinking it would be foolish not to. They were walking in silence for a couple of minutes. May wondered, where the hell he was leading her. Her sense of direction wasn’t her strength, but she was pretty sure, that the camp in the opposite direction. May’s heart began pounding faster as she imagined why could he lead her into the deep, dark forest. He could murder her there, and Erik would never even hear her screams.

                “Aedain?” May spoke up, her voice shaking. The demon didn’t answer or show any other kind of response like slowing down, for instance.

                “Aedain!” May called louder, thinking that maybe he didn’t hear her the last time.

                “I am not deaf, woman,” he said eventually.

                “Where are taking me?” she asked, hoping to start a conversation and divert his attention from the gruesome plans, she suspected him to have for her.

                He didn’t answer her right away. May covered her eyes with her hand, as the bright moonlight blinded her. She lowered her arm and looked around. Aedain led her to a lakeshore. The light of stars reflected on the water. May opened her mouth in awe, impressed how beautifully the water sparkled. She looked up and gasped.

                The sky was very clear tonight, the little shining dots decorating it. The moon was full and seemed brighter than usual. However, there was another thing in the night sky that caught May’s eye – from eastern part of the sky emerged another moon, smaller than its companion, but was shedding more wonderful, bluish light.

                “Woman.” Aedain’s voice made her come back to reality and averted her attention from the two moons.

                May almost forgot, that he was standing beside her. She turned her head and looked at him. In the bright moonlight, he seemed even more inhuman as the pale light illuminated his unnaturally handsome face. His golden eyes were almost glowing in the dim light, as though there was some mysterious fire burning within their depths. The light breeze was gently playing with his long black hair, gathered in a loose ponytail in the back. Aedain narrowed his eyes at May, clearly demanding the answer right now.

                “Mhm?” May uttered, unsure and scared what did he want from her.

                He glared at her, becoming annoyed again.

                “Undress,” he said simply, his face unreadable.

                May opened her mouth agape, wondering if she heard what she thought she did. Exactly, what did he want from her?! Then it clicked in the mind.

                How dare he!

                “What?!” she exclaimed, protectively folding her arms across her chest as she took a step back away from him.

                “Hn.” Aedain averted his gaze; May could have sworn that she saw a flicker of bewilderment on his face when he realized what  he had actually said. However, his mask slipped only for a split second before he regained his usual hash and commanding façade. 

                “Go bathe.”

                May stood still in one place, processing what he said just now. She looked at the lake and then back at the black-haired demon. Did he lead her here only to let her bathe? That was kind of… nice of him, but she smelled a rat – it was suspicious that someone as cruel like Aedain was being nice. She’d rather expect him to beat her senseless for trying to escape from him or something like that. However, it was best to play along for now and not tempt him to kill her like the warriors in the morning.

                “Oh, thank you. I will,” she said, accepting his 'kindness' and waiting for him to leave. After all, she desperately needed the bath. Aedain, however, stood still, not taking his eyes off her.

                “Are you going to stand here?” May asked, a little irritated. “I need some privacy.”

                Aedain sent her his cold glare, walked over to a large stone nearby and sat on it, his back to the lake. May was staring at him, not believing, that he wasn’t going anywhere. How the hell was she supposed to take a bath with HIM sitting here? She stalked toward him, rested her hands on her hips and cleared her throat.

                “I think we have a misunderstanding about the meaning of the word ‘privacy’,” she said angrily. The demon looked her in the eye, sending her his intimidating icy glare.

                “Woman,” he said quietly. “Go clean yourself.”

                Somehow his calm voice scared her more than when he would be yelling at her. Considering the previous events, arguing with him would end painfully for her. May sighed, defeated.

                “All right,” she said. “But don’t peek!”

                Aedain didn’t respond; he averted his gaze from her and fixed it on the nearby trees. May made her way towards the lakeshore. When she reached it, she leaned over the still surface of the water and looked at herself, reflected in it. She looked terribly with the face smeared with dirt, tangled hair and torn clothing.

                She carefully took the silk slippers off, and dipped her tired and blistered feet into the cold water. She shot a nervous glance at Aedain who was still sitting with his back to her. Embarrassed by his presence, she quickly got rid of her clothing and dove under the cool water.

                May emerged slowly, keeping only her head above the water level and checked for any signs of peeking. She decided that Aedain was apparently no pervert. May quickly rubbed her skin, wincing from pain as her hands slid over the hand-shaped bruise on her shoulder.

                The water was freezing, so May jumped out of the lake as quickly as she could, keeping her eye on her captor the whole time. She put on the petticoat which looked like a summer dress and examined the rest of her royal gown, discovering that it wasn’t salvageable – the  wide, torn skirt was not the best attire for hiking.

                The girl was so busy with sorting and folding her clothes that she didn’t notice Aedain rising from his place and soundlessly making his way toward her. She didn’t even sense his presence when he was standing right behind her.

                “If you ever try to escape from me, I will track you down and kill you,” he spoke, startling May and causing her to shriek, as her heart nearly stopped.

                May whirled around, clutching one of the folded skirts in front of her, as though it was a shield, protecting her from the demon. She looked up to see the hateful expression on his face as he stared her down. He surprised her that much, that words refused to leave her throat. It took some time until she could utter a response.

                “I… I didn’t mean to…” she tried lying again, but the demon interrupted her.

                “Do you take me for fool, you idiotic human?” Aedain asked slowly, a dangerous flicker in his eyes.

                May quickly shook her head. The demon smirked maliciously, enjoying to see her terrified of him. Cherishing every second of her fear, he leaned down so that he could whisper in her ear.

                “You do not know much about my kind, do you?” he asked rhetorically. “The main difference between you and me is that you are weak, like a mouse in front of an eagle. You will not run away at night, for I never sleep soundly like you humans do. If you somehow escape, I will track you down without any problem, even after days. Once I get you, you will beg me to have mercy and end your life quickly. Remember, your life holds no meaning for me. Actually, I would very much enjoy watching you slowly bleed to death.”

                May began shivering at the threat, still feeling Aedain’s breath on her ear. The demon straightened his back and smiled triumphantly, seeing that he nearly scared the girl to death. Watching  her tremble must have been a pure pleasure for him.

                May gathered her courage and looked up at his face, refusing to grant him any more amusement.

                “If you want to kill me so badly, why I’m still alive?” she demanded the answer in the most confident tone she could muster.

                Aedain frowned, discontented that his prey wasn’t entirely intimidated. He turned around and slowly made his way through the forest, seemingly ignoring May’s question. She followed him, too scared to make him wait. She wanted to tell him to slow down, but she thought it was best not to say anything, that could make him want to strangle her.

                “You must keep the child alive and healthy until the eclipse,” suddenly, the demon replied.

                May furrowed her bows.

                Eclipse? What so special about it? – she wondered.

                “What will happen to us after this eclipse?” she kept questioning the demon.

                “After it I will have no purpose in keeping you anymore,” he explained, giving May a tiny piece of hope which he shattered almost immediately. “In keeping you alive, that is.”

                May felt her legs stiffen, and she had to use all her willpower to keep them moving. So that was what the demon planned to do her – he wanted to murder eventually. She had to take Erik and run away before then; it was a matter of life and death. However, the next time she would have only one shot, so she’d have to act on a plan and with a good one at that. Until she came up with something ingenious, she had to keep a low profile. The risk of getting caught turned out to be higher than she thought.

                When she and the demon reached the camp, Aedain sat down and leaned against the tree. May folded her spare clothes, trying to ignore that the demon kept staring at her. She lay on the ground on the opposite side of the campfire, her back toward the fire. She put the clothes under her head and wrapped them around sleeping Erik. She pulled the child nearer to herself for the warmth and closed her eyes. She was so exhausted that she fell asleep right away.

The Twin Moon

                The bright light of the stars was reflecting in crystal clear waters of Loc Shanann; Aedain didn’t know the name of the lake in humans’ tongue. The moons were dancing around each other like inseparable lovers. Aedain’s gaze lingered for a while on a red star which appeared on the horizon and was making its way across the night sky, before he focused the dancing flames of the campfire.

                His thoughts occupied by his goal, which was almost at hand. With the Guardian and the Key in his grasp, Aedain was close to obtaining the unimaginable power, the ultimate tool to fulfill his destiny and wash off the shame lingering on the name of the Ruanaidh clan.

                Aedain watched the flames dancing, the sparks flying high to the sky. He furrowed his brows, his fingers tracing the surface of the decorative sheaths of the twin blades – Sholais and Dorreach, the family heirloom, reforged countless times. They were fine blades, saw many battles, slain armies of foes, but witnessed the greatest defeats as well. Aedain’s honorable ancestor Kaegan wielded them during the memorable battle at An Thalain; his grandfather fought many battles with humans, but not once winning a decisive one. Aedain’s father never pointed the tip of the blade at a human – and that was what lost him. All those who were before Aedain failed.

                That was the reason Aedain was carrying them with himself – because those swords constantly reminded him of the defeat. They were silent testimony of weakness which Aedain intended to turn into his strength.

                “Mhm…” The demon shifted his gaze away from the fire at the source of the sound.

                “No…” the Guardian of the Key moaned, thrashing in his sleep.

                The boy began sweating; the blonde locks glued to his wet cheeks. The eyeballs were moving rapidly under the lids as Erik was experiencing some terrifying dream. He clutched the fabric of the black cloak desperately, like drowning people try to grab anything to save their lives. Then he gasped, sitting upright. He had the eyes wide-opened and was drawing a series of shallow panicked breaths. His heart was beating fast, as though it wanted to escape the ribcage.

                Aedain watched the boy with a certain dose of interest. The boy seemed to suffer from nightmares.

                Erik whimpered, covering his face with his little hands. The child muffled the panting, trying to contain the panic attack.

                “You do need to be afraid of what appears in your dreams,” Aedain spoke suddenly, causing Erik to gasp and pull up the covers made of the cloak.

                He stayed still for a longer while, cautiously eying the golden-eyed demon. When he saw, that Aedain wasn’t going to move and wasn’t threatening to harm him, he relaxed a little.

                “They are scary and did terrible things to my family,” the boy said quietly, unsure whether replying Aedain was a good idea. “How could I not be afraid of them?”

                “No matter how they are I am far worse. If they want to get you, first they will have to get past me,” the demon retorted, confidence resounding in his voice.

                Erik blinked. And then he smiled faintly at Aedain, showing his appreciation for dispersing the fears of the night. The child dived back under the covers, trying to fall asleep anew.

                After minutes of shifting and rolling from side to side, he sat back up and looked around. Everyone was asleep apart from Aedain, who was observing the flames of the campfire.

                “I can’t sleep,” Erik complained, feeling bold for speaking to the fearsome demon so casually.

                Aedain lifted his eyes from the campfire.

                “Then do not,” he said and returned to staring into the flames.

                Erik bit his lower lip, considering something. After a short debate with himself, he gathered the cloak, he used to cover himself with, and marched towards Aedain. He sat next to the demon and wrapped himself in the warm fabric. The black-haired man was ignoring him for quite a while, enduring the persistent staring of the pair of honey-colored eyes. However, even Aedain gave in to Erik eventually.

                “What do you want?” he snapped rudely, the tone of his voice dry and hostile.

                Erik didn’t seem to be discouraged, as he stuck out his  feet from under the cloak and brought them closer to the fire.

                “When I couldn’t fall asleep, my mother would always tell me a story,” he said and looked at Aedain expectantly. The demon ignored him, but he took his silence rather for encouragement. “Do you know any stories?”

                Aedain turned his head towards the little boy, who nestled himself by his side and made foolish requests. He glared at him; the innocent eyes stared back at him with some fear, but also hope. Even in a demonic heart there could be an ounce of pity for the boy. How despaired must she be to turn to Aedain, seeking comfort?

                “I know many,” Aedain answered.

                Erik’s eyes brightened.

                “Really?” He seemed to be excited. “I like the stories with dragons the best!”

                “Dragons?” Aedain repeated.

                The little boy nodded.

                “Yes, the ones, where brave people slay evil dragons,” he added.

                Aedain’s gaze turned to a glare.

                “And I know only the ones where brave dragons slay evil humans,” he retorted, shattering Erik’s hopes for hearing a story of a dragon tonight.

                The child stared at him with his eyes wide-opened, a hint of disappointment in them. Aedain looked back into the flames.

                “I will tell you a tale of a kind king. Decades ago, a king lived in a castle among the mountaintops. He was revered by his allies and feared by the enemies, for the king was the greatest warrior of his times. No one could best him in the fight. No one could match his strength; his skill was the unrivaled in the whole Kal Laismarr. Despite all his power, the king had a gentle heart; he defended the weak, he never let the wicked sow the seed of injustice. He forged a truce between his people and the humans inhabiting the northern regions of Kal Laismarr, stopping the bloodshed between the two races. One day, he received a message, saying that one of his former allies, a man called Zhawn, rebelled against the king and began slaughtering innocent villagers, not sparing even children. Those people didn’t belong to his race, but he defended everyone, who was in a need of aid.”

                Aedain paused. Erik trembled with excitement, listening to the tale. The demon glanced at him and continued.

                “The king gathered his army, took his young son with him and said farewell to the queen, leaving to battle with Zhawn’s forces. The enemy was numerous, as many opposed to the king’s ways. However, the kinsmen of the attacked villagers offered to help, and he accepted, glad to have gathered both races under one banner. The memorable battle began; the two armies clashed while the king fought Zhawn on a secluded mountaintop with his son as a witness of his fight. The duel was fierce. It lasted from the sunset until the sky began graying on the east. When wounded Zhawn lowered his guard for a split second, the king’s righteous rage hit him, burning his body till the blackened flesh began falling from the bone and Zhawn writhed in agony. Upon this moment, when the defeated enemy was on his knees, on the brink of death, the king said to him…” Aedain stopped speaking.

                He lifted his gaze at the stars, sadness creeping onto his usually stoic face.

                “He said: No one can escape the fate.”

                Erik sighed.

                “The king returned home to his queen and lived happily ever after, didn’t he?” he made sure.

                Aedain smiled bitterly.

                “When the dawn came something happened, something that the king did not take into account – once he returned to his victorious army, consisting of the joined forces of two kin, to celebrate the victory… he was stabbed in his back. Then another blows followed; the ones who murdered the king were not the followers of wicked Zhawn, but the people he thought to be friends, the very same ones, whose lives he saved many times. He was kind to them, and yet they repaid him with betrayal. That is how the tale of the kind king ends.”

                Erik hid his bare feet back under the covers, looking gloomy.

                “It’s a sad story,” he said, laying down and curling into a ball. “I think, that I preferred my mother’s stories.”

                For a while, both were sitting in silence, when Erik decided to share his doubts with Aedain.

                “You said that only the king, king’s son and bad Zhawn were on that mountain, when the king killed Zhawn,” he said slowly, as though he was solving a puzzle. He looked at Aedain with suspicion. “So how do you know, what exactly the king told Zhawn before he died?”

                Aedain’s face remained stoic like a mask, but Erik noticed the demon’s jaw stiffen as he clenched his teeth.

                “I witnessed it with my own eyes. I was there, when my father delivered a fatal blow to Zhawn. I was there when the humans stabbed him in his back.”

                “You’re the king’s son,” Erik stated, surprised.

                Aedain watched as the child slowly drifted off into the land of slumber.

                “I know you were awake all the time, woman,” he said, his eyes never leaving the dancing flames.

The Apple

                May was sleeping soundly, when she felt someone poking her. She ignored it and rolled over. The person, who was disturbing her sleep, didn’t give up – now someone was shaking her. She distantly heard voices calling her name. May mumbled something incoherently and drifted to the sleep again. Then, she felt a sharp pain in the vicinity of her kidneys. Her eyes opened instantly, and she rolled onto her back. Then, she realized that her nightmare was indeed reality. Above her, she saw the concerned face of Erik, Baltar with folded arms and Aedain gazing at her with distaste. May guessed, that the long-haired demon was the one who had kicked her just now.

                “Get up, lazy human,” Aedain ordered, forcefully yanking May up. “And gather the provisions before we depart.”

                May took a step away from the demon when she freed herself from his indelicate grip. She bit her tongue, refraining herself from arguing with Aedain – taunting her kidnapper wouldn’t be the wisest thing to do; she should just do what he wanted. But, how was supposed she to get those provisions he wanted, when there was no town or village nearby?

                “We’re in the middle of the forest,” May pointed out. “What possibly can be here to eat?”

                Aedain huffed from irritation, before scanning her up and down.

                “A pampered Lady,” he assessed May and looked at the fellow demon. “Baltar, take care of that.”

                The said Baltar mumbled a curse under his nose.

                “I’m a warrior, not a babysitter!” he grunted, but apparently he wasn’t eager to defy his superior. Not stopping cursing under his nose, he grabbed May’s sleeve and began dragging the girl deeper into the forest.

                 “What the heck are you doing, let go!” May protested. Baltar groaned like a caveman.

                “You stupid girl!” he retorted, dragging her like she weighed nothing. “We’re going to find food for you and the brat, as Aedain ordered. If you weren’t so useless, I wouldn’t have to come with you!”

                “Oh,” May muttered. Baltar let go off her sleeve and wandered deeper into the forest.

                May followed the demon, as he was looking for something edible. Maybe it would be a good idea to try to get along with him, she thought. If she was to travel for some time with that sadistic demon Aedain, she would use someone to talk to, someone who could reveal to her what Aedain was exactly up to.  And, Baltar was a fairly good target – he might have been a strong scary oaf, but he wasn’t really smart. Some praise should have helped her get on his good side.

                “Baltar,” May spoke up; her gaze lingering on a large axe on the demon’s back and his armor. “You’re a warrior, right? I bet you’re strong.”

                “Damn right.” Baltar muttered, blushing like a young boy proud because of May’s praise. “After all I became the youngest royal guard in the history of the Northern Domain.”

                “Really?” May had no clue what exactly it meant, but Baltar was getting less hostile. “Wow, that’s impressive. You’re a very accomplished man then.”

                Baltar nodded, his smile growing. Then, he stopped abruptly and pointed something with his finger. “That looks quite edible.”

                May looked in the direction, that Baltar pointed, and there it stood – a lone tree with branches full of red fruit, resembling apples. It was bizarre, seeing the fruit next to the blooming flowers on the branches, but she assumed that it was just another of the Callesmere’s wonders.  The girl heard her stomach rumble again. She made her way to the tree. She grabbed one apple-like fruit and before taking a bite, she sent Baltar a questioning look. The demon nodded and gestured her to hurry up. May bit the apple, praying for it to be edible. Slowly, she chewed on the apple. Then she let out a surprised noise, startled by the delicious taste of it – it was like a mix between pineapple and raspberry, only better. She tossed another one to the huge demon.

                “It’s delicious!” May wondered, smiling at the prospect of filling her rumbling, empty stomach with the exotic fruit.

                Back on the path, Aedain, Meirch and Erik were still waiting for Baltar and May to return. The boy was sitting on the winged stallion, where Aedain had put him. The child looked  impatient to see May  again, worried and scared by the two of them being separated. Hesitantly, he glanced at the tall demon.

                “Mister?” he spoke up quietly, his voice shaking a little.

                The black-haired demon abruptly turned his head to him, surprise flickering in his golden eyes as Erik never spoke to him without being questioned.

                “What is it, boy?” Aedain asked, quickly averting his gaze from the child.

                “Do you think May and Mister Baltar will come back soon?” Erik asked, this time feeling more encouraged.

                “Hn,” Aedain muttered, an annoyed expression on his face.

                The demon had enough of waiting for his underling and that infuriating human woman, but was grateful for a moment of silence, free of her yapping and Baltar’s stupidity. He cursed himself inwardly for his own foolishness, which caused him to bring the wretched woman along. At first, he hoped, that she would convince the Guardian of the Key to eat and stop the annoying sobbing. The human female served that purpose, as the boy finally began eating properly and seemed to be less a nuisance. However, the woman herself was trouble incarnated. She was loud, disobedient and on the top of that – he had to keep an eye on her, so she would not try to escape again. However, she was useful, as long as she kept the boy alive. That is, she would be useful until the moon eclipsed. And then…

                The demon smirked, clenching his fingers, as though they were snapping a neck.

                “Mister!” Erik exclaimed, pointing towards the nearby bushes.

                Baltar and that idiot woman returned, happily talking to each other. His companion was boasting about one of his adventures, and the girl was listening, while making enthusiastic comments from time to time.

                Perfect, now she has that idiot Baltar on her side, Aedain thought, gritting his teeth and trying to maintain his emotionless façade.

                He saw that the woman was carrying a lot of fruit, wrapped in the fabric, and now she was wearing only a single layer of clothing, a cotton petticoat. He noticed, that the thin fabric didn’t leave much to imagination, making the woman’s curves perfectly visible as the clothing clung close to her body and exposed quite a lot of legs. Aedain had to admit, she had a very womanly shape despite her child-like height.

                “May, you were gone for too long!” Erik complained, as he made a face of a pouting child. May smiled at him, happy that the child regained some of the good humor, even though both were being held captive by demons.

                “Come, on, Erik! We weren’t gone for that long.” May scolded Erik and fished an apple-like fruit from the bag made of her skirt. “Here, I’ve got an apple for you.”

                May gave a fruit to the child and then another one to Baltar, who already treated her more like a companion than a prisoner. Erik bit into his apple, while Baltar discreetly tossed the fruit into the bushes when May wasn’t looking. Surprised Aedain noticed, that the woman made her way toward him. She seemed to be unsure, probably was scared of him.

                “Aedain, here’s one for you,” she said, offering him a fruit. The demon was looking at her for a while and, suddenly, he knocked the apple out of May’s hand. The girl’s eyes followed the fruit as it fell down to the ground and rolled in dirt.

                May stood still for a while, staring at the apple at her feet, before looking up at Aedain.

                The demon smirked, seeing that his action upset May. When she clenched her fists, he bursted out laughing.

                May gritted her teeth as she glared at the laughing Aedain. He kidnapped her, ordered her around, mistreated her and now that monster was laughing at her when she tried getting on good terms with him. The grudge she held against Aedain grew with every moment of the captivity, and at the moment it couldn’t be contained anymore. May tried behaving in a reasonable way, but she just lost it.

                “You arrogant bastard!” suddenly, she screamed at the top of her lungs, making Aedain stop laughing and gaining interested stares of Baltar, Erik and Meirch. “You crazy sadist! You…”

                “She’s so dead,” Baltar commented, while Meirch neighed in agreement.

                May’s insults stopped as Aedain’s self-control snapped and the demon closed the distance between them, grabbing the girl’s throat and effortlessly lifting her off the ground. She struggled, her legs dangling helplessly above the ground, while Aedain was observing her desperate efforts with his cold golden eyes, his face stoic. May dug her nails into the demon’s wrist and tried to draw a breath. Aedain was staring into her eyes as she struggled to free herself from his grip. He lifted her a bit higher with such ease like she weighed less than a feather.

                “Do not disrespect me, woman, ever again,” Aedain slowly, flexing his fingers and releasing May.

                The girl fell limply to the ground, painfully crashing into it. She pulled herself to her knees, gasping for breath and rubbing her aching throat. When the air filled her lungs again it felt as though someone just poured liquid fire down her throat. Shocked and bruised, she looked up at the cruel demon. Aedain gave her a final enraged glare and turned around.

                Erik slipped off  Meirch and ran to May. The boy fell on his knees beside her and embraced her, looking at her with concern.

                “May, are you all right?” Erik asked.

                May slowly nodded, massaging her sore neck.

                Erik helped her get back on her feet, despite her insisting, that she’d do it on her own. She looked around. In the ground, her wrinkled skirt was laying, and apples were all over the path. It would be a terrible waste to leave them here – she put quite an effort into collecting those.

                “Come on, May!” Erik exclaimed, pulling her sleeve. “We have to go.”

                “Go ahead,” May girl answered. “I’ll just gather the apples and catch up with you later.”

                Erik reluctantly let go off the sleeve and ran off to get back onto Meirch. May noticed, that Aedain turned his head and gave her a suspicious look.

                “I won’t run away,” she assured him and reached for the skirt, which served her as a bag.

                “I would catch you anyway,” Aedain responded and departed.

                The black-haired demon and his companions were soon out of sight. May sighed and started gathering apples.

                She lifted her hand to the face and touched her cheek. She felt tears wetting her cheeks. May fell on her knees and buried her face in her hands as she gave out a loud sob. It was the first time she allowed herself to cry since she arrived into this world. May realized how scared she was – thrown into a world other than her own, and she didn’t know if she would ever come back, if it was at least possible. Ever since she switched souls with Lady Maewyn, she concentrated on a single task – discovering how to go home. Now she was a demon’s hostage with no idea what to do next. She felt helpless. What if coming back was impossible, and she would have to spend the rest of her life here?

                May’s life wasn’t thrilling, but she missed being safe, going to school and cinema, visiting the library where the old nagging librarian was. She wished, that she could walk through the streets of Baltimore again, talk with mom, watch TV with dad, even argue with Hailey as they always did. Earlier, she despised how boring her life was; she wanted it to be a little more exciting, to experience an adventure. Finally, she got to do that, and it turned to being a nightmare – she got stuck with a sadistic demon who would surely make her life miserable until the eclipse, when he’d want to murder her, unless she escaped first.

                May sighed and wiped the tears from her face. She threw the last apple into the makeshift bag and stood up. She decided, that she wouldn’t worry now. Later, she’d think of something; she was smart, so she’d figure it out eventually. May began marching down the path. She wondered if Aedain would wait for her.

                I doubt it, she answered herself and quickened her pace, not very eager to be alone in the woods for too long. May thought, that she heard the cracking of twigs, as something moved in the bushes. Her heartbeat quickened. She convinced herself, that it might be just a stag or some other animal, and most of the animals are more afraid of people than the other way around. However, she started walking faster, almost running.

                May heard the rustling in the bushes behind her more clearly.

                That is not my imagination, she thought, panicked, as she spun around to see the source of noise. As she did she felt herself freeze in fear.

                “Hello, pretty one.”

The Message

Orvik, Karhadon

                Duke Royse was pacing in his chambers, nervously wriggling his fingers behind his back. The reason for his anxiety was sitting in his usual place on the corner across the room, clad in his dark cloak, observing the Duke’s every move.

                “Zhawn, this is insane,” Royse protested. “People began to notice. I can’t spare any more of them!”

                Zhawn’s eyes were calmly following Karhadon’s ruler as he was coursing between the opposite walls of the spacious chamber.

                “Perhaps you should consider other sources for the delivery,” the cloaked man suggested.

                Royse stopped pacing and stared at Zhawn blankly. He shook his head violently.

                “No, no! I can’t interfere in other dukedom’s affairs!” The Duke walked over to the window. Violently pulling the heavy silk curtains aside, he inhaled the fresh air, hoping it would help him clear his mind. “What if they declare a war upon Karhadon? We have Farn’s support, but Dulheim’s army is several times bigger than mine. If the Emperor decides to intervene, my dukedom will disappear from the map!”

                Zhawn stood up, readjusting his hood so that his face would stay in the shadow.

                “Don’t worry about numbers, my friend,” he said, making his way to the exit. “The reinforcements will arrive soon, and you won’t have to worry about any army anymore.”

                When Zhawn was nearly at the door, someone knocked on the door – it seemed as though Royse’s advisor’s timing was perfect when he decided to take his leave. Zhawn slipped out of the chamber when an agitated messenger stormed into the Duke’s private quarters, not minding the manners. The man carried a rolled piece of paper and a very confused post pigeon in his other hand.

                “Duke Royse!” the man exclaimed, panting. “Terrible news!”

                Royse gripped the silk curtain.

                “What news?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly. The messenger swallowed a lump in his throat, his hands sweating and shaking.

                “Your son, Lord Abrran, is dead.”

                Zhawn was smiling slightly as he was climbing the spiral staircase which led to the top of the highest tower. When he reached the peak, he casually leaned on the stone railing. Nesrin was already there, waiting for him patiently. The wind was playing with her ethereal white dress, but she didn’t seem to mind.

                “Well done, Nesrin,” Zhawn offered his praise, but the white-haired woman shook her head, a sour expression on her face. She set her gaze at the sea visible from the tower so as not to have to look directly at Zhawn.

                “Unfortunately the credit is not mine. Someone managed to forestall me,” Nesrin replied and clenched her fists angrily.

                “Find out who that was,” Zhawn ordered dryly, clearly not satisfied with his underling’s performance.

                “I did that already,” Nesrin said quickly. “It was Aedain.”

                Zhawn sharply looked at his underling, recognizing the name, he knew all too well.

                “Aedain?” he repeated.

                Nesrin nodded, her perfectly-shaped, pale lips twisting in a dissatisfied grimace, making her face look like a terrifying mask of a wraith.

                “That is not everything,” Nesrin’s face was serious. “I discovered that Aedain has the Guardian of the Key and the Key itself. He is searching for the Spear, and he’s not far from finding it.”

                Nesrin was staring at Zhawn expectantly, waiting for her superior to display anger or surprise, but the cloaked man’s smile only grew, as though the white-haired woman just told him the best news possible. Nesrin was unsure whether she should tell Zhawn everything, but she did that anyway.

                “I sent your followers after Aedain to retrieve the Spear,” the white-haired woman said, her confidence plummeting with every word, which escaped her throat.

                Zhawn smirked quizzically and said nothing, the unreadable expression in his eyes.

Ambushed

                Aedain glanced at the path, from where he and his group came. Still, there was no sight of the woman even though he purposely slowed down to allow the female to catch up. Was she that idiotic to try the escape again, despite his previous warning?

                “Hey, Aedain?” The black-haired demon frowned, as his underling Baltar opened his mouth to bother him again.

                “What again?” Aedain asked without looking at his companion. The bald demon cleared his throat.

                “Do you want me to go get the girl?” Baltar asked, looking at Aedain’s stoic face for reaction.

                “Hn.” The black-haired demon didn’t slow down. “There is no need.”

                Aedain clenched his fist, annoyed with that idiot woman. She should have stayed with the group instead of trailing behind. What was she thinking in that foolish head of hers? At least, she would be taught a lesson, if she had to run behind them for a half of the day. Aedain could still sense the woman in the vicinity, so he knew that she was walking after them. There was absolutely no need of bringing her back now.

                The long-haired demon furrowed his brows as he detected someone or something in the vicinity, but there was probably no need to worry. Suddenly, he stopped and exchanged looks with Baltar. The bigger demon frowned.

                “Looks like she has company.” Baltar noticed it as well.

                Aedain didn’t answer. He sniffed the air. Without doubt, he could smell the scent of blood, the idiot woman’s blood. And Laismarans. He cursed inwardly.

                He whirled around and set off in the direction from where they came. He was running incredibly fast, his speed surpassing that of a stag, and quickly vanished into the forest.

                Erik was staring at him, till the demon was out of sight. The shock and worry for May mixed on the child’s face as he bit his lower lip. He said a prayer to mother goddess Illiana for his friend to stay safe when Meirch neighed, dancing in place. Then, the steed  leapt into the gallop, following its master.

                “Faster,” Baltar muttered when he caught up to the demonic horse.

                May gasped, as she saw three men coming out of the bushes. They wore dirty, smelly rags and were armed with rusty swords. After a brief glance, May also noticed that they were demons – with greenish scales covering their forearms and a good portion of their faces they weren’t doing quite as fine job at pretending to be humans as Aedain and Baltar did.

                The loathsome smiles were plastered across their faces. One of them whistled as he scanned May up and down.

                Scared, she took a step back and whirled around with an intention of running at the full speed. When she did so, she noticed, that two other demons blocked her way, springing out of the bushes and laughing, making her stay in place.

                May cursed, when she realized, that thy surrounded her. Damn, why didn’t she stay with the group? Why she had to be that stupid?

                “She reeks of the prince. She must be traveling with him,” one of them said, probably the leader. The demon’s obscene gaze lingered a little while longer on May’s knee-length braid. “She looks like a princess with that hair; surely, the prince is quite attached to her. If we trade her for the Key, master Zhawn will reward us.”

                The demons began approaching May, closing off every escape route and reaching for her with their scaled arms.

                May looked around helplessly, praying for the salvation. However, she was alone in the wilderness, far from human settlements. No one would hear her screams. No one would come to rescue – she was on her own.  The pulsing temples made it hard for her to think clearly; her breathing hitched when the demons made a step in her direction, looking gleeful. May shook her head, refusing to let the panic lose her senses.

                “Wait!” she looked straight into the yellow eyes of the leader. “What do you want from me?”

                A look of surprise flickered through the lizard-man’s face like he just saw a dog talking.

                “What do we want from you?” he repeated May’s question, the corners of his mouth twisting in a smirk. “You’ll find out in a moment.”

                The lizard-man made a hasty gesture, and his comrade leapt on May, trapping her in their grip. She tried fighting, but she got immobilized before she realized what was happening. May kept wriggling, but the demons were holding her too well, not letting her move her limbs an inch.

                “Your hair is so beautiful,” the leader said, taking May’s knee-length braid in his hand and examining it.

                May’s eyes widened as he flexed his clawed, lizard-like fingers an inch before her face. Her breathing hitched with panic when she thought that he was going to slash her throat with his claws. The demon’s leader grabbed her long hair and pulled towards himself. May whimpered in pain when he pulled it with more force. Then she felt the pressure disappear and fell backwards, free from his grip. She saw that the demon was holding her long brown braid in his hand. The lizard man cackled, tossing the hair to the ground.

                May felt his sharp claws brushing against her throat. She held her breath. The demon grazed her neck with his fingers, the claws breaking the skin near the artery – only to draw a little blood. The demon lifted his hand to the girl’s eyes so she could see her own blood staining his fingers, and then he licked the blood slowly off the claws with his split tongue.

                “Now scream,” he ordered.

                “You heard the boss, call for the prince or we’ll rip your spine out of you!” one of the lizard demons yelled at May, slapping her across the face. The girl’s head turned from the force of blow.

                “Aedain!” May called weakly, her voice shaking from fear.

                “Louder, human bitch!” another demon ushered her.

                May took a deep breath.

                “AEDAIN!” May yelled from the top of her lungs, her voice echoing throughout the forest.

                “Again!” the demon commanded, grabbing May’s short hair and yanking it until the girl whimpered from pain. Suddenly, the angered grimace on his face vanished to be replaced by a look of confusion and bewilderment.

                May stared, as the attacker’s hand fell limply to his side, and he unexpectedly landed upon the ground. She saw a long sword stuck into his back. The man tried to pull himself up, the blood flowing from the wound began making a puddle around his body. His limbs twitched for a moment, and then he went still. May stiffened when she realized, that the monster had been just killed. She lifted her eyes from demon’s lifeless body and gasped.

                In front of her eyes was none other than Aedain. The black-haired demon was standing still, calmly observing the scene. One of the swords on his back was missing from its sheath.

                The leader of the lizard demons glanced briefly at his killed companion, his gaze lingering for a while on the long sword which was stuck in the corpse.

                “This blade… this is Sholais, the light,” he said and shifted his attention towards Aedain, who drew the remaining sword. “and the one you’re holding is Dorreach, the darkness. If you’re wielding the famed swords of the Ruanaidh clan, you must be Aedain, son of Kaellach, who ruled over the Northern Domain.”

                Aedain didn’t answer.  Instead, he thrust his sword Dorreach into the ground at his feet and casually stretched his arms, which seemed to anger his opponent.

                The leader of lizard demons frowned, but smile reappeared on his face as Baltar and Meirch came. The demon’s gaze slid over Aedain’s comrade and the battle steed to stop on the little blonde boy with a sapphire necklace around his neck.

                “So it’s true. You have both the Key and the Guardian,” the lizard-man stated the fact, his face almost radiating with self-confidence. “We want them.”

                Aedain calmly finished stretching and reached for his sword. The enemy demons stiffened, expecting him to attack, but he hid the blade into its sheath.

                “So you weaklings are after the Spear too,” Aedain said in a disinterested tone.

                “Yes,” the lizard-man announced and pointed at struggling May held still by his two henchmen. “Now I will offer you a trade. Hand over the boy and no one will die.”

                Aedain arched his eyebrow.

                “A trade?” he said in a mocking tone. “Have you something of value to offer me?”

                The lizard demon smiled triumphantly.

                “I have her!” he grabbed a handful of May’s hair and pulled it, wanting to make the girl beg for mercy. However, May clenched her teeth and glared at him, not uttering a word.

                “I can see that,” Aedain replied, not seeming to be fazed by the demon’s threats. “Do you have perhaps something else you wish to trade?”

                The lizard man stared at Aedain, realizing that May was worthless as a hostage.

                “The reinforcements are on their way. You’ll have to give the Key to me,” the demon hissed out.

                Aedain smirked.

                “I do not react well when someone wants to rob me of my property,” the said and stretched his arms. Then, without any warning, he leapt forward, moving with such speed, that May could barely discern his exact position. The other demons had the same problem, for they got confused and the attack surprised them completely. They didn’t even see the moment when Aedain unsheathed Dorreach. In a split second, he was already in the midst of their small group; none of them had enough time to scream, when the parts of their bodies and intestines began flying around. The demons’ leader backed away in the commotion.

                 May froze in terror as a fragment of a leg glided inches from her face. Horrified, she stared at the black-haired demon, not sure who scared her more – he or the demons who just took her hostage.

                Aedain looked as calm as though nothing had happened just now. He was standing in the middle where a bloodbath just occurred in front of May’s eyes. The mutilated bodies were laying at his feet, the limbs laying further from their owners; everything was covered in guts ripped out of the demons’ bellies and blood.

                May was staring at the scene, as though she was in a trance. The overwhelming sensation of death invaded all of her senses – she could see the massacre, hear the gurgling sounds the demons made while drowning in their own blood, feel the splattered droplets of their blood on her cheeks, smell the nauseating stench of blood and death. It felt like May wasn’t there, she wished she wasn’t there. All of this felt surreal, May felt apathetic, not believing that this was happening in front of her eyes.

                She sensed that the demon, who was gripping her, started to shiver uncontrollably when Aedain turned his attention to him.

                “One more step and I’ll kill her!” the terrified lizard-man shouted, threatening to slit May’s throat with his claws.

                Aedain, however, didn’t stop. He smirked, what scared the girl out of her wits. May couldn’t even follow what happened afterwards. He leaped forward with such speed that the girl noticed only a blurred shape. Suddenly, he appeared right beside her and the lizard demon. He moved his wrist, and May saw him ripping the flesh of the man’s arm with his bare hand. The torn off limb fell to the ground, freeing the girl from the grip. She staggered forward and somehow regained her balance. She turned towards Aedain and the man, moving clumsily as her body felt heavy and numb.

                At first, the demon stared in disbelief, surprised that his arm was no longer attached to his body. Then he yelped in pain and started to back away from the Aedain, staring at him with horror in his eyes.

                “Please, spare me! Forgive me!” the lizard-man began pleading for his life as he clutched the bleeding stump.

                Aedain said nothing, slowly approaching the demon, swaying with Dorreach. However, he didn’t use the sword. May watched in horror Aedain piercing the man’s chest with his flexed fingers. The arm dove into the flesh past wrist. The demon screamed in pain and coughed blood. Aedain waited patiently until the end of man’s agony and then he pulled his arm back, ripping out the man’s heart. The lifeless body fell on the ground. Aedain emotionlessly glanced at his victim and crushed the still warm heart in his hand.

                May’s eyes widened in shock as she took in the scene. The dead bodies lay on the ground; the smaller fragments of flesh and guts were everywhere. And Aedain was standing in the middle of it, calmly shaking the drops of blood of his claws.

                May shook her head, staring at her feet. She was still shivering – she has never seen so much blood in her life, and it was only the second time she saw someone dying before her eyes. She averted her gaze, not wanting to look at the mutilated corpses. She felt as though she was about to vomit.

                The sight of the Aedain ripping those demons apart with his bare hands terrified her, it scared her more than anything else that happened today. She knew that Aedain was dangerous, but until now, she didn’t really realize how much. His speed, his strength, his mercilessness… he was a true demon, there was no doubt about it.

                “Aedain!” suddenly, Baltar spoke up, grabbing Meirch’s reins and leading the beast toward Aedain.

                The long-haired demon nodded as he retrieved his sword Sholais and slid the both blades into their sheaths.

                “I know,” Aedain muttered. He grabbed May’s arm and shoved the petrified girl behind himself.

                The leader of the lizard demons returned. He scowled looking at the four corpses of his associates. However, then he smirked smugly and snapped his fingers. As he did so, the bushes around May and Aedain’s group began rustling. May barely managed to snap out of the shock when faced with the imminent danger once again. The girl looked around nervously and released a terrified yelp, when she saw more of the lizard-like creatures emerge from everywhere. May spun around, counting the enemies. Twenty… twenty one… there was more.

                They were surrounded.

The Sapphire Pendant

                May was shivering like a leaf in the wind, when she saw the small clearing fill with the demons. There were so many of them that she lost her count already – Aedain and Baltar were heavily outnumbered.

                However, the number of the opponents didn’t scare Aedain; quite the opposite actually. The demon began laughing as though the situation was merely a funny stand-off show, not a threat. When his laughter subsided, he stared into the eyes of the lizards’ leader.

                “Is that all you’ve got?” he asked mockingly.

                The reptile-like demon gasped, visibly surprised by such reaction.

                “What?” he hissed out, mix of anger and uncertainty in his shaking voice. “I will take the Key with force. Fight me, you coward!”

                Aedain arched his eyebrow, his face expressing amusement.

                “You and your pathetic minions will not even warm me up,” he stated, folding his arms. He glanced at Baltar, who bore an excited smirk on his roughly shaped face. “I am leaving them to you, Baltar. Finish it quickly.”

                Baltar nodded and spun the heavy axe in his one hand as though it was lighter than a feather. His face betrayed impatience and child-like joy.

                May flinched, as the mass of lizard-like creatures rushed onto Baltar, who was standing still until the last moment possible, not showing any sign or worry or nervousness. She gasped, feeling her stomach twist when the demons leapt on the lone opponent, up to the time that he vanished beneath their bodies. May sharply looked at Aedain, who wasn’t fazed by the development; he calmly observed the fight, looking far too relaxed. She went back to stare at the scene; she had the horrible feeling that Baltar was already a goner.

                The leader of the lizard-like demons smirked, certain of the victory, but then a low hoarse yell resounded through the air, and his minions were sent flying in all directions. Baltar emerged, swinging his battle axe skillfully as he sliced every one of his adversaries. May winced when it began literarily raining bodies; the still mutilated carcasses of Baltar opponents limply fell to the ground, very still and very dead, all twenty-something of them. May couldn’t avert her gaze from the pile of limbs; she stared at the aftermath of the massacre half-believing that it actually had happened for real. With the corner of her eye, she noticed one of the opponents still moving. The lone survivor was coughing blood and trying to grab his weapon. Baltar shook his head, when he spotted the demon, he failed to kill.

                “Oh no you won’t do that!” he exclaimed merrily and jumped to him. Sighing, he lifted his foot and with full force stomped onto his head, breaking the skull into pieces like a watermelon.  Baltar stretched his arms lazily. “Gotta love this job!”

                The lizard-demons’ leader paled visibly, apparently not expecting such a turn of events. His eyes darted sideways, looking for an escape route. Then, he made a daring attempt to flee the place of the massacre. His fingertips glowed as he pointed his hand at Baltar, who was eager to take on the last opponent.

                May watched, mesmerized, as electric sparks began forming in the palm of the reptile-like demon. It looked like he was about to create some sort of an electric charge and aim it at the bald demon, but in the last moment the arm moved sideways and the lightning was sent flying straight at the place where May and Aedain were standing.

                She wanted to scream, to move, but she couldn’t – all she was capable of was to stand still like a statue and stare. Aedain kept his cool. He managed to parry the lightning bolt with his sword Sholais, using the metal blade as a lightning rod. The clash of his sword and the energy caused an explosion of light. May peeked from behind Aedain to see what was happening. The demon prince was still standing, unharmed. His opponent was dead already, with Baltar’s axe pining him to a tree.

                “He made a nice move just now,” Baltar commented as he walked over to retrieve his axe. “But he was way too slow.”

                Aedain nodded, looking rather bored than impressed by his companion’s victory. He turned his back to the corpse which was split into two halves by Baltar’s axe, and placed the swords in their sheaths. May noticed, that something strange was happening with the dead body of the lizard demons’ leader. The both halves began to twitch and moved on their own towards each other. The demon let out a gurgling sound which sounded like laughter.

                “You think you’re so tough, Aedain?” the lizard-like man managed to utter. He coughed blood and smiled mockingly. “You’re not the only one who’s after the Spear. There is another. Compared to my master you’re weak like a child. You will die of his hand.”

                “You are a talkative corpse,” Aedain stated. The demon whirled around, his long hair swirling, as he reached out with his hand. He crushed the lizard-man’s head effortlessly. As the skull cracked and brain leaked out, the carcass stopped moving once and for all.

                “Persistent bastard,” Baltar muttered. Seeing May stare at the scene in horror, he decided to add some explanation. “Most of the reptile-like Laismarans heal rather fast.”

                She nodded stiffly, acknowledging the information. In her opinion, the ability to heal could explain a lizard’s re-growing tail, not the two halves of the body linking anew. Nevertheless, she decided to keep her opinion to herself – the world of the Callesmere still had many secrets to her.

                Aedain turned around and calmly started walking away, continuing the marching, leaving May behind. She hung her head, wanting to avoid looking at the pile of massacred bodies. Staring at her feet and stumbling as her knees didn’t want to stop bucking, May followed Aedain.

                Then, she caught a glimpse of something glittering, making her forget the macabre scene she just had witnessed. It was bizarre, but all the shock and fear fled her mind, as though they never had been there – the object’s bluish glow seemed to have consumed those fresh, traumatic memories. May walked over towards it and picked a sapphire necklace on a golden chain, she recognized to be Erik’s property. She brought it to her eyes, examining it closer; the sunlight was reflecting in it in such way, that it seemed that blue fire was burning inside the crystal. The play of light must have deceived her sensed, because she could have sworn, that she felt a gentle pleasant warmth radiating from the sapphire.

                “Woman.” May yelped and jumped, as she heard Aedain’s voice. She was so busy studying her finding, that didn’t notice, when the demon approached her. She tilted her head up and fought the urge to take a few steps back. The man glared at her, as he was towering above the girl. She clasped her hand shut around the jewel and hid it behind her back. Aedain narrowed his eyes.

                “Show me that,” he demanded harshly.

                “Show what?” May answered, trying her best to make an innocent face. The demon growled, showing his impatience. The girl took a step back, scared of him displaying his anger. Defeated, she sighed and showed him the gem.

                “It’s only Erik’s pendant,” May said in her defense. However, Aedain seemed to be very serious about the ordinary piece of jewelry.

                “Give that to me,” he said dryly, outstretching his hand.

                Seeing her hesitation, the tall demon snatched her wrist and squeezed it brutally, ignoring May’s whimpers. Her fingers flexed, releasing the sapphire pendant, which fell into Aedain’s other hand. May yanked her arm, freeing her wrist from the man’s hold. She took a step back and sent him a poisonous glare, angered, that he hurt her completely without a reason.

                However, something stopped her from complaining – she saw that Aedain’s hand was literarily smoking, as though it was on fire. Small trickles of smoke were surrounding the palm which held the pendant; May could clearly smell the odor of burnt flesh.

                The black-haired demon behaved as though it was nothing extraordinary in having a hand fried by a piece of jewelry. He approached Erik, who was sitting on Meirch’s back and handed him the pendant.

                “Watch it better, boy. If you lose it, your precious attendant will lose her head,” he said.

                Erik bit his lower lip and nodded. He reached out and took the sapphire. He quickly put it on, hiding the gem under his tunic. May was staring at the boy, not quite being able to comprehend why the kid’s belonging nearly burnt Aedain’s hand. He didn’t show that he felt any pain, but she saw, that the inside of his palm was red and covered with nasty blisters – it had to hurt.

                “It is nothing for me. Any lesser Laismaran would die though.” May’s eyes widened, when Aedain spoke all of a sudden. 

                “So you can read my thoughts now?” she muttered.

                “You were staring,” he explained, shrugging his shoulders.

                “Oh,” May muttered, averting her gaze from Aedain.

                Suddenly, May felt a touch on her cheek, the calloused fingers brushing across the bruise in the place, where the demons’ leader hit her face. Surprised girl looked up at the demon; his golden eyes met hers.

                “You’re hurt,” he stated quietly.

                May pushed his hand away and glared at him.

                “It’s nothing,” she said sharply. “It doesn’t hurt more than my neck did this morning.”

                Aedain’s eyes went cold again. The demon looked at her disheveled clothing critically. He grabbed the edge of fabric and slid it back into the right position, covering May’s bare shoulders.

                 “Woman, get yourself on Meirch,” Aedain ordered harshly.

                She looked at the winged stallion and winced, not really willing to get anywhere near that nightmarish creature. Meirch neighed, as if he was thinking the same as May.

                “No, thank you,” May refused politely. Aedain kept glaring at her. “Or maybe I’ll reconsider.”

                May made her way to the demonic horse. She stopped by Meirch’s side and looked up. The stallion’s withers was over six feet abound the ground level.

                How the hell I’m supposed to get on this thing? It’s too tall! – she thought, as she tried to jump somehow onto the saddle or pull herself up with her arms, without any effect. Meirch roared impatiently.

                “Don’t complain,” she spoke to the stallion. “I’m trying to… Gah!”

                She yelped, as Aedain grabbed her by her waist, lifting her off the ground and yanked her onto the saddle behind Erik. May clutched the edge of the saddle. She stared at the black-haired man, surprised, that he lent her a hand.

                “Thank you for helping me out,” she said to the demon, smiling shyly at him. “And thank you for saving me from those men. I’m really grateful.”

                “Hn,” Aedain turned away from her. He stood still with his back to her for a moment and then spoke quietly. “Such food does not suit me.”

                “What?” uttered May, not knowing what he was talking about.

                “The fruit,” Aedain said.

                May looked at him, still confused. Then she realized, what he meant.

                Did he just apologize? – May thought, surprised.           

                Then the black-haired demon turned around and started walking away. Meirch moved, led by Baltar. May had to grip the saddle to keep her balance.

                “Move out,” Aedain said.

                May flinched as the memory of the massacre returned, engulfing her mind in paralyzing fear and numbness. Why did she forget that a moment ago? No, it wasn’t it. She didn’t forget; she just didn’t care anymore. The sight of death didn’t evoke any emotions in her. May stiffened, worried about herself, for she realized how unnatural and unsettling it was. One moment she couldn’t think straight and the next thing she knew was argue with Aedain – how could she have forgotten about the massacre?

                The sapphire on Erik’s chest was glowing faintly until the light faded completely.

The Mourning of Karhadon

Orvik, Karhadon

                Duke Royse was kneeling in front of the bier, his face hidden in his hands. He was a proud and tough man, but the tears refused to stop streaming down his face. A sob shook his body, and he shivered from the chill ruling in the burial chamber. He lifted his head, and his heart died again.

                The one laying on the bier, prepared to be buried, was his son, Abrran. Always honest, pure-hearted and kind, he would make an excellent ruler and yet Royse had to put his son into the ground. The Duke shook his head, still refusing to believe that his only child was dead. However, as much as a heart of a father wanted him to believe that he was just sleeping, the signs of death were painfully obvious.

                Even though the chamber was cool, the odor of decomposition mixed with the scent of incense, irritating Royse’s nose. Abrran’s face was peaceful, horribly contrasting with the ruined, blood-stained attire and the wound to his stomach – his son had been cut nearly in half. The young Lord’s body was oddly collapsed into the middle as the intestines fell out.

                “Abrran,” Royse lamented, touching his son’s pale, cold cheek. “My son.”

                Had he known what was going to happen in Farn, he wouldn’t have sent his child there. If only…

                “Please accept my condolences.” Royse looked at the intruder in the chamber of mourning. It was dark outside the circle of light by the bier, but he knew who came here.

                “Zhawn,” the Duke said.

                Zhawn approached the bier, his looks hidden beneath the hooded cloak as usual. He glanced at the massacred body of Karhadon’s heir and bowed his head.

                “May the spirits of his ancestors guide him to the stars,” he said and rested his hand on Royse’s shoulder in a comforting gesture.

                The Duke silently accepted the condolences.

                “Zhawn,” Royse’s voice was quiet, as though he didn’t want to disturb Abrran’s eternal slumber. “Do you know who did it?”

                Zhawn sighed heavily and kneeled beside the Duke.

                “I do,” he said, making Royse suck in his breath in anticipation. “The one responsible for murdering your son is none other than Aedain, son of Kaellach.”

                Royse stared at Zhawn in disbelief, processing the advisor’s words after hearing a familiar name.

                “Son of Kaellach?” the Duke repeated. “Did he want his revenge for what my grandfather and the others did eighty years ago?”

                Zhawn shook his head.

                “No, that was not the real reason. It appears that Aedain is only one of the culprits,” he said. “You see, he killed your son because Lady Maewyn of the house Thoen asked him to.”

                Royse furrowed his brows.

                “What? Maewyn? She’s a kind, gentle young woman. She would never do such a thing!” the Duke exclaimed, his voice echoing through the burial chamber.

                “Women are often more treacherous than men, my friend,” Zhawn said patiently. “It turns out, she’s Aedain’s lover and eloped with him. Unfortunately, your son, Abrran, was in the way so that’s why he had to die. The Lady of Farn had no intention of marrying your son; she was only waiting for a convenient opportunity to get rid of her betrothed.”

                Royse was staring at Zhawn in shock. It was hard to believe that Thoen’s daughter would be capable of such devious actions, but it had to be true since it was the most trusted advisor, who said it.

                Zhawn stood up, readying himself to leave.

                “Zhawn, what would you do?” Royse asked, his voice cracking from all the grief, which filled his shattered heart.

                The cloaked advisor looked at the Duke over his shoulder.

                “You know the answer already,” Zhawn said. “The same thing I did eighty years ago.”

Aedain’s Plan

Dulheim

                A couple of days passed since May became Aedain’s hostage. She got used to the new routine – their group would wake up every day at dawn, then May and Erik would eat breakfast. Next, they all were marching until dusk and afterwards set camp for the night. It was clear to her that Aedain had some purpose, was searching for something, and May had a hunch that Erik’s kidnapping, and the upcoming lunar eclipse were somehow connected to it. The lizard demons, who attacked Aedain’s group the other day, mentioned a spear, and it was the only clue May had.  Not that she didn’t try to investigate – she did, but every time she tried to ask Baltar or Erik, the long-haired demon sent them a warning glare, efficiently silencing them.

                May realized that she could only wait patiently for a convenient opportunity to escape. For the time being, she managed to maintain a fragile truce between herself and Aedain. They spoke to each other as little as possible, May refrained from talking back to him and Aedain controlled his habit of grabbing people’s throats.

                She tried to befriend Meirch as she now was riding on the creature half of the time. May kept bribing the demonic horse with fruit and had an impression that it liked her a little more at present. At least, it wasn’t scaring her on purpose anymore. Much to her amazement, Meirch turned out to be a very friendly animal, although  he looked fearsome, and was a sworn vegetarian.

                However, May had a hard time getting used to the everyday misery Her back was sore from sleeping on the bare ground. During the nights, she was covering herself and Erik with Aedain’s cloak he gave them, but she was always shivering before dawn anyway. May also made a discovery that grass in the world of the Callesmere Empire was edible, but it tasted awfully.

                Surprisingly, the other demon, Baltar, turned out to be not as horrible companion as he thought him to be. He seemed crude, violent and somewhat cruel, but he liked good laugh nearly as much as he liked a decent brawl. His personality reminded May a bit of an unruly child who enjoyed bullying the weaker. The bald man was clearly happy that he found a listener, who would withstand the endless tales about his adventures and lame jokes.

                May was quite shocked, when the muscled demon told her that he was nearly one hundred and fifty years old, whereas Aedain was a little over a hundred years old. When May inquired further, the demon betrayed to her that fate brought the two demon warriors together about eight decades ago, when Baltar’s long-haired superior was only a little boy much like Erik. Ever since then they had traveled with each other, facing numerous foes and bettering their skills with every battle they fought.

                “Baltar,” May spoke, once more trying to get some information on her captors. “Tell me, where exactly are we going? We have a destination or something like that?”

                “Not your business,” Baltar grunted, cautiously glancing at Aedain. “But I can tell you something else.”

                And so May learnt, there were all kinds of demons inhabiting the lands of twelve human dukedoms, from the sea to the east to the mighty Bradan Mountains in the west, called in the demons’ language Ard Briahdain. Baltar betrayed that his kind lived in the places, where the humans were afraid to venture – in the ancient woods, hidden among the mountains, inhabiting the swamps and the sites thought of as haunted. After three long centuries of war between the human newcomers and the native folk of the Callesmere, called by Baltar Kal Laismarr, the fragile peace came and both races were mostly ignoring the existence of another for the next six hundred years, not invading the territories. From time to time, incidents happened, when a brave human warrior came to an idea of slaughtering demons or a hostile Laismaran, as it was the proper name of a member of Baltar’s race, decided to murder the villagers.

                May learned the basic differences between demons and humans. The native inhabitants of Kal Laismarr were born in huge diversity of forms: some of them resembled normal animals; others were like beasts from European legends or forest spirits. However, the demons could disguise themselves as humans, many even spent their entire lives in such form, rarely reverting to the one they were born in. However, no matter how hard they tried to copy human appearance they weren’t able to change the naturally golden color of their eyes.

                The individual abilities of the Laismarans and their strength varied greatly, depending on the type of demon they were, the power of the bloodline and sometimes luck. Baltar said that he and Aedain were exceptionally strong among their race, their senses far more superior to the ones of a human; they could spot a rabbit from a mile and track the scent of a person like a hound.

                Baltar continued his tale, sharing with his human companion, that some Laismarans lived in castles of their own, far from the human’s reach, preserving the relics of the long-lost  magnificent civilization. The centuries of war and the destructive influence of the humans made the Laismaran traditions fade. Many of Baltar’s kin forgot the language of the ancestors; most of the cities fell, and his people were forced to live in hiding. The contemporary demons were merely a faint shadow of their powerful ancestors, fewer in numbers, their will to fight crushed by the long years of defeat.

                “But it won’t be long now,” Baltar voiced his opinion, a confident and proud smile playing on his lips as he petted his prominent goatee.

                “What do you mean?” May asked.

                The demon patted the heavy battle axe on his back.

                “Aedain, son of mighty Keallach, will soon get the power to return the things they once were,” Baltar stated firmly, with unwavering faith reflecting in his yellow eyes. “After the eclipse, when he finds the ancient Spear all Laismarans will get together under one banner.  Aedain will lead all those lazy bastards, and he’ll make sure that not one of the stinky humans remains. No Laismaran mother will have to fear that humans will kill her offspring. Every Laismaran man, woman and kid will be able to come out of hiding, with their heads up and back straight, proud to be who we are. The golden ages will return to Kal Laismarr once the plague is destroyed.”

                May felt drops of cold sweat gather on her forehead, as she listened to Baltar’s zealous speech. Finally, she made him spill the beans, but now she regretted it.

                “Baltar, what exactly is going to happen after this eclipse?” she asked her companion.

                Erik stared at the big bald demon, clutching May’s hand, as they were walking side by side. Baltar made a smug face, like he was satisfied with himself.

                “After the eclipse… there will be a war,” he replied, visibly pleased with the impact his words had on May and Erik. He had such joy upon his face as though in his mind a war was an equivalent of Christmas. “It will be the biggest war since the time of the Great War six centuries ago.”

                Erik blinked, furrowing his brows.

                “What was Great War?” he asked.

                Baltar rolled his eyes to the question.

                “Humans are truly stupid,” he groaned, before beginning to explain it to May and Erik. “Nine hundred ago, something terrible happened. Something that destroyed the peace in the kingdoms of Kal Laismarr. Ships came from the east, from across the sea. They were carrying many warriors each. They landed on the shores and began building fortified settlements in the east. At first, my kind ignored the danger, thinking of the gael, humans, as of no threat to us. My ancestors thought that weak, fragile beings, who live so short and die that easily, were harmless. However, they were wrong. Very soon the humans began breeding, quickly multiplying their numbers. More were coming every day in the ships from the east. They learnt of our existence and began preparing to fight to claim Kal Laismarr as their own lands. The four kings recognized the threat, but it was already too late. If only they had acted earlier…”

                Baltar frowned, crushing in his palm a rock he was holding. When he outstretched the fingers, sand fell to the ground.

                “The war lasted for nearly three centuries; the humans were stubbornly conquering one piece of land after. Kal Laismarr was ruled by four powerful kings: one in the North, one in the West, South and East. All of them were prideful as hell and instead of uniting, they were arguing with each other for years.

                Three hundred years after first human set foot on the Laismaran soil, the four ancient kings of Kal Laismarr summoned all of our race able to fight, men and women, to gather in the fields of Daranoth. The summer was long and hot. The live-giving waters of An Thalain nearly dried up, leaving a muddy ford. And there stood the two greatest armies, the world had ever seen – gathered there, separated by the mucky riverbed of An Thalain. The number of humans and Laismarans was equal, but we were stronger by nature. The kings and the clan leaders were conceited, sure to win, what contributed to the defeat. The humans’ positions were fortified, but the leaders ordered to attack head-on, leading the charge without even checking of the humans didn’t have a trump card.”

                May and Erik held their breaths, listening to the tale of a long-forgotten  battle.

                “And,” May urged Baltar to continue. “Did they have it?”

                The demon nodded.

                “Of course they did. The majority of the clan’s forces leapt forwards and got into a trap. It turned out, that the human sorcerers set up a fancy spell, which was supposed to hold the enemies inside, taking away the ability to move. The human archers began killing the trapped Laismarans one by one. The rest of the forces attacked the human army, but then he stepped out. It became legendary, the moment, when the crowd of bearded human warriors let him through, so that he could face our army alone. He was tall for a human, carrying a massive spiky armor on his back. The cloak of silver hair covered his shoulders; the long beard had the same color. He was fearless, when he stood in front of the armies of Laismarans of all shapes and sizes, all wanting his blood. He was an enemy, but my ancestors harbored great reverence for his courage and skill. The human wielded a spear, dark as though it was forged out of the very essence of the night. He lifted it and Laismarans began dying, defeated by the great power of the weapon. He killed three kings, the clan leaders, one by one. No one was a worthy adversary for him. No one except King Kaegan mab Ruanaidh, the most powerful of the Laismarans. They battled for hours, while the Laismarans and humans fought, steel against claw, blade versus fang.”

                Baltar raised his voice, with passion describing every blow and the counterattack, as though he saw the duel with his own eyes.

                “The sun was setting, when both Kaegan and the human fell, mortally wounded. By that time, most of the two armies were destroyed; An Thalain’s empty riverbed filled by the blood of the fallen, never to run dry again. It’s because of that the humans call it the Red River. Kaegan and the human called the “Dragonslayer” were buried with honors side by side, saluted by humans and demons, who recognized their courage.”

                Mai furrowed her brows, noticing the inconsistency in what Baltar said.

                “I thought, that the demons lost this battle, but what you said, it looks like it was a draw,” she shared her doubts.

                “It was,” Baltar agreed. “No one really won that day. But, it was what came after the battle, that decided on the fate of Kal Laismarr. The humans grew in numbers much faster than our kind did. They began to prosper, pushing the Laismarans out of their ancient territories. To survive, we had to learn how to assume human-like appearance and speak their language. Eventually, the humans united in one nation and built their capital on the bones of dead kindred and enemies, fallen in the Battle at An Thalain.”

                “Thorongard,” May whispered, recalling the name of Callesmere Empire’s capital. 

                She knitted her forehead, connecting dots in her mind. Baltar said that a spear will be found. This spear, could it be the very same weapon as…

                “The Dragonslayer’s Spear,” she whispered. “You two are looking for the Dragonslayer’s Spear.”

                Baltar cursed loudly, when he realized, that he had said too much.

                “Just forget…” he began.

                “Aedain wants to get it and start a war, after the eclipse, doesn’t he?” May questioned Baltar, angry look on her face. “He can’t do that!”

                May was so fired up by the talk with the huge demon, that she didn’t notice Aedain coming closer.

                “I can and I will.” Both May and Baltar stiffened, hearing Aedain’s deep voice. The black-haired demon sent a scolding glare at his sidekick. “I hope, that you are pleased with yourself.”

                Baltar stared down at his feet like a child who just had been scolded by its father. He reluctantly gazed up into Aedain’s cold eyes.

                 “I didn’t mean to blabber out that much,” the bald demon admitted with shame and guilt clearly written on his face.

                “Now humans know about my plans,” Aedain said calmly. “It is unfortunate. Tell me, Baltar, do you want this female and the boy dead so badly?”

                Baltar glanced at May and Erik, who stood petrified at his side, and then he slowly shook his head meaning is as a “no”.

                “No?” Aedain shifted his gaze from Baltar to May. “Pity, for they will die because you couldn’t watch your tongue.”

                Baltar furrowed his brows, and May brought Erik closer to herself.

                “No, please. Don’t kill us,” May uttered, protectively embracing the child.

                Aedain’s gaze wasn’t leaving the pair. His eyes didn’t show an ounce of compassion or mercy. His face was perfectly emotionless.

                “I intended to let you go after I get the Spear,” he said. “But I cannot risk you leaking my plans to your kin.”

                “I won’t tell anyone! I promise!” May hastily assured Aedain, wanting to save her own and Erik’s skins at the moment.

                However, the black-haired demon snorted, as though he just heard a good joke.

                “You promise?” he repeated, speaking in a mocking manner. “Human’s promises are worth just as much as dirt. Betrayal and deception lie in the very nature of your kind.”

                May clenched her fists and glared back.

                “And senseless cruelty is in yours!” she accused Aedain in a meager attempt to come up with a witty reply.

                Aedain smiled, showing his teeth.

                “Cruelty is better than weakness, human,” he answered.

The Heart of Riada Swamp

Riada Swamp

                “Ach, beer!” Sigurd’s eyes gleamed with joy, when his cousin brought a pint of beer and the both men sat on the bench outside the inn, relaxing after a long day of hard work in the fields. Thankfully, the sowing was successful, as all Sigurd’s sons helped him this year.

                “There’s still no rain,” his cousin stated, boring as always.

                Sigurd shrugged his shoulders and took a gulp of the golden liquor, decorating his beard with the foam. He outstretched his tired legs and looked in front of himself. The settlement in the very heart of Riada Swamps was a hidden paradise. The village, where Sigurd and the other lived was surrounded by deadly marshes. The forest around was treacherous – one wrong step and Riada Swamps swallowed a careless traveler. The marshes went for miles, the whole northern part of Rimmisth Dukedom. The place had the opinion of haunted and not without a reason – it was the lair of the forest witches. The creatures were  said to be descendants of demons and were known for having close ties with forbidden magic. They assumed a form of beautiful ethereal women, who seduced and lured the travelers into depths of the swamp to kill them. Or to do something else.

                The dukes of the neighboring dukedoms were often banishing the criminals into the Riada Swamp, sending them for long, painful death, far worse  than an executioner’s axe. Most of them died, but some survived, living with the red-haired witches in the village. The boys were born very rarely, so the males were always welcomed. With the flow of time, the population grew and the both kinds coexisted peacefully, lending each other a hand and mixing.

                 “You know, what’s the best in living here?” Sigurd asked his cousin, drinking the rest of his beer in one gulp.

                “Views?” the other man asked.

                “Screw the views!” Sigurd waved his hand. “Taxes, or rather no taxes. We’re living in the middle of the freaking Riada Swamp, with a bunch of witches and no tax collector has the guts to suck us dry from our money!”

                “We don’t have money here, Sigurd,” the cousin reminded him, stoically sipping his beer.

                “Oh,” Sigurd muttered, remembering the fact. He opened his mouth to share another wisdom, but instead whistled, as a tall slim forest inhabitant passed by, dressed in a short tunic, a bow over her shoulder and flaming red hair flowing behind her. “My dear cousin, we’re damn lucky to live here.”

                The cousin mumbled a response and continued drinking. Sigurd sighed, cursing his gloomy relative.

                Then, something caught his attention. An exceptionally big eagle sailed across the cloudless sky, his flight uneven as though the animal wasn’t a stranger to alcoholic beverages. When the bird dove toward the ground, Sigurd winced, taking in it’s appearance – the creature looked rather like a chicken readied for the dinner that the king of birds. There was only one eagle, which was that ugly.

                “It’s the witch’s familiar,” Sigurd elbowed his cousin, pointing the figure.

                “What?” the cousin asked without much energy for gossiping.

                 Sigurd rolled his eyes.

                “Look, he’s carrying something in his claws,” he hissed out and straightened his back to observe the bird until it flew into the witch’s house – the secluded tower  with ancient wines growing all over it.

                Lavena, the elderly sorceress of Baigh Riada, called the Riada Swamp in human language, sighed heavily, staring blankly at her desk. She was deep in thought, bothered by what she had read a while ago.

                The window was open, letting the wind play with Lavena’s gray, wavy locks. The sun was reflecting in one strand of red hair, the remnant from her youth long gone.  Her green robe was loosely hanging on her thin shoulders. When elderly, some women tend to get plump, others go dry, as though time began sucking the life of them already. The witch belonged to the second category.

                “Not good,” she muttered; her mind focused on a scroll she translated just two nights ago. She was coming to an unwanted conclusion and the more she thought about it, the more correct it seemed. “Someone knows about the Portal.”

                But… how? And, more importantly, why? Did that person have a desire to exploit the wonders of the world beyond the Veil or was it simply out of curiosity? Whatever the reason, it was dangerous to delve into the depths of the forbidden knowledge. Arnstein should have known that and yet he had asked her to translate the parchment. Lavena suspected he had good reasons, but she had a feeling that she shouldn’t have trusted his good judgement.

                Lavena was so enticed in musing over the portal that she didn’t notice the arrival of her familiar, until the balding eagle let out a tortured squeak. Startled, the witch almost fell from her chair. When she lifted her eyes, a gasp escaped her throat.

                “Weren’t you supposed to deliver that to Arnstein?” she muttered, taking from her familiar the original of the parchment she had been reading a while ago. She unrolled the scroll. Inside there were two pages – the ancient, yellowing one and the new, translated one. The smell of the fresh ink was still noticeable. Lavena frowned, not finding any letter. It wasn’t like Arnstein to beg her to translate a Laismaran document and then simply send it back. No, something must have happened. Was it connected to the Portal? It had to be.

                Lavena stood up, nearly overturning the chair. She grabbed the traveling bag she didn’t have an occasion to use in a while, and began stuffing it with all the necessary items. It looked like she would have to take a trip to Farn and find out why Arnstein didn’t get the delivery and who was looking for the information on portals.

                Hastily, she packed everything she needed and left the spacious chamber. The balding eagle squeaked miserably and turned around clumsily, his sharp claws grazing the wooden surface of the desk. With a cry, he soared into the sky.

                 The wind rustled the parchments on the table.

The Beast Within

Dulheim

                The night after May had discovered Aedain’s plan to declare war upon the whole human kind in the Callesmere Empire sleep refused to grace her. His resolve was unsettling, to say at least. Her captor was a ruthless, cruel demon; a couple of days before she saw the sample of his fearsome abilities when he literally ripped another group of demons apart with his bare hands. May was sure, that he could defeat a whole small human army without breaking a sweat. If Aedain was so fearsome and dangerous now, what a monster he’d become once he got his hands on the Dragonslayer’s Spear, he was searching for? If its power was as great as May suspected, Aedain would be able to turn the entire cities into dust with one swing of the weapon.

                To think that countless men, women and children would have to die because of the thirst for revenge for some war that happened almost a millennium ago. Most of the human inhabitants of the Callesmere Empire surely forgot it already. Whatever were wrongdoings of their ancestors, how could the innocent be blamed for that?

                May rolled onto her back and stared into the night sky above; tonight it looked grim. The light of stars was dim, partially covered by clouds. The moon shone lonely in the sky, abandoned by his smaller and brighter companion. The two moons had danced around each other several nights, but the bluish one was gone already.

                The night was long, just like the daytime here, in the world of the Callesmere. After about two weeks since her mysterious arrival, May had noticed that it was something weird with the time. The days seemed to be much longer than back at home. Without a watch, it was hard to tell precisely, but the girl was sure that days in the Callesmere were five or six hours longer than a twenty-four-hour  Earth day. It meant time a month spent here must have been even longer back at home.

                 The girl felt a stab of fear and sadness when she realized that her family would be soon back in Baltimore. What would be their reaction when they met Lady Maewyn instead of May? The girl sighed heavily as her heart sank. She missed all three of them so much that it hurt…

                May groaned, feeling that some root was poking her back, making the sleeping impossible, even if her thoughts would let her close the eyes tonight. She pulled rolled onto her other side, focusing on counting sheep.

                A loud noise woke May from the brief nap. The girl immediately sat up, half-asleep and feeling confused. It was still dark, everyone in the camp, except Aedain and Baltar, was soundly asleep. The two demons were in a middle of what looked like a war council. The two of them were sitting in front of each other with serious looks on their faces.

                “We have been wandering around like idiots for days. You need to ask her. There is no one else…” Baltar was convincing Aedain, but his short-tempered superior interrupted him almost instantly, slamming his fist against the ground.

                “Fool!” the long-haired demon hissed out. “She will tell me nothing!”

                “But…” Baltar wrinkled his forehead, set on convincing Aedain. “If someone knows this blasted place, it’s her! You won’t figure it out on your own!”

                “Damn you, Baltar,” Aedain muttered, closing his eyes and folding his arms.

                May thought that he looked like a spoiled child who didn’t want to listen to the voice of reason. Actually, the conversation between both men got the girl interested.

                “Who were you talking about?” she asked, addressing the question at no one in particular.

                Aedain grunted, refusing to even grace her with his glare, but Baltar seemed all too eager to satisfy her curiosity.

                “Just about the witch…” Baltar said.

                “Baltar!” Aedain’s eyes snapped open as he sent his underling a warning look; a look which Baltar completely ignored.

                “… who probably knows where Uaimth Dorchadais is…” the bald demon continued as though he didn’t hear Aedain’s protest.

                “Shut up!” Aedain yelled, clenching his fist and glaring at his overly talkative companion.

                “What’s Uaimth Dorchadais?” May asked, hoping she pronounced the Laismaran words properly.

                “The place where the Dragonslayer’s Spear is hidden,” Baltar replied in spite of Aedain’s warning look.

                “Oh.” May blinked. “And what’s the problem?”

                “The witch doesn’t quite like Aedain,” Baltar explained, completely ignoring that his superior was glaring at him with murderous intent. “Can’t blame her actually. He’s got quite a temper, doesn’t he?”

                Aedain huffed and stood up, slightly trembling with fury.

                “I swear, Baltar, I will kill you one of these days,” he said, trying to sound calm.

                May sighed. Knowing Aedain, he must have terrorized that witch in some way. His problems were none of her concerns, but still, she had already a plan forming in her head. She needed him to be away for some time; it could be her sole chance to escape him. With only Baltar around she could actually stand a chance to escape.

                “I’m sure that this witch would tell you where your Spear is, if she was asked nicely,” she said sarcastically, looking at Aedain. The words “nice” and “Aedain” sounded unnaturally in one sentence.

                “Hn,” the demon snorted.

                He turned around, but he seemed to have changed his mind and looked back at both his comrade Baltar and May. They froze, as if expecting something terrible.

                “Woman,” he addressed May after a moment. “Are you certain, that you could persuade the witch?” he asked.

                The girl gasped, not liking the turn of events. Did Aedain want her to talk the witch into helping him?

                “Me?” May asked hesitantly and shook her head. “No, I don’t think, that…”

                “Baltar,” the demon ordered, interrupting May in mid sentence. “Take Meirch, the boy and follow me to Baigh Riada. We will go ahead.”

                “We?” May repeated, suspecting the worst. “What do you mean by ‘we’?”

                Aedain stalked to her and grabbed her sash. She tried to push herself away from him, but he was holding the cloth firmly.

                “You are coming along with me,” Aedain explained patiently, before he closed arm in a crushing grip of his fingers.

                May felt, that her nightmare was coming true. She wanted to get rid of him for the day to escape, but instead she got to spend time alone with HIM. Why?

                “Let go, take someone else, take Baltar!” May desperately tried to wriggle herself out of this situation.

                Baltar arched his thick eyebrow and made an amused face.

                “Have fun you two,” he muttered.

                “Hey!” May protested. “How could you!”

                Baltar smirked playfully like a big child.

                “Just don’t have TOO much fun!” he called, suppressing laughter and waving to the pair.

                “Shut up, both of you!” Aedain suddenly yelled. “Baltar, one more word and you will evaporate. May, you are coming along. Do not dare to disobey me!”

                Both May and Baltar fell silent, startled by a sudden display of anger. May whimpered as Aedain violently pulled her closer to him and dragged her down the path, toward a bigger clearing. She clawed at a nearby tree, but the demon yanked her so forcefully, she was afraid he tore her arm out of the joint.

                “Stop resisting,” Aedain muttered, not even taking his time to glance at her.

                May clenched her jaws, not wanting to say something she would regret later. She tried struggling, but it was pointless – the demon didn’t even slow down until they reached the edge of a meadow. Finally, he released her from his grip and shifted his attention to the sky. He bore a focused expression on his face, as though he was making calculations in his head.

                “There should be enough place here,” he muttered to himself and went ahead to the middle of the clearing, leaving May behind. Before the girl could have any ideas, he looked at her over his shoulder. “Wait here.”

                “Wait for what?” she asked.

                 “I will change into my original form.” Aedain offered a brief explanation that didn’t really clarify anything.

                May nodded, unsure what he meant by that. His original form?

                Then the air around Aedain began to change. A strong wind swirled around him. The girl took a step back, not knowing what the hell was going on. She gasped, as his whole eyes turned golden and the pupils went vertical. Suddenly, May got scared and felt the urge to escape.

                “Stay where you are,” the demon ordered, noticing her fear. May couldn’t not notice, that his voice changed into deeper, more beastly one. “I will not harm you.”

                Then Aedain gritted his teeth, the grimace of pain distorting his face and May had to squint her eyes because of the flash of the brightly red light that erupted from his body. She saw his limbs distort as the bones were breaking, growing and reforming; the human form of the demon disappeared, when he transformed into something entirely different, huge as a house. May couldn’t gaze away from this creature, as her jaw dropped. The sun rays were reflecting in the crimson scales. The girl took a step forward, amazed by what was before her eyes.

                “Awesome,” she commented, staring at Aedain.

                A dragon.

                Aedain transformed himself into a genuine dragon, just like the creatures from fairy tales. The body of the beast was scaled. He had everything a dragon should – jaws full of fangs, sharp talons, spikes along his spine, a long dangerous-looking tail and leathery wings. Despite the enormous size, the beast’s silhouette was graceful.

                A loud roar woke May from admiring the fairytale creature, when Aedain moved his head pointing with his head at his back.

                “Get yourself on,” the dragon said to her, his voice still resembling the one Aedain had in his human-like form, but it was considerably deeper and raspier.

                She ran to him, not wanting to make him waiting – angering a beast with talons as long as her forearm wouldn’t be a good idea. When she was at by his side, she reached to touch the scales. They were smooth and warm. Aedain roared again, obviously wanting her to get on already. May clumsily managed to climb up, using one of the wings to support herself. When she was finally on his back, she grabbed firmly one of the spikes that grew out of the dragon’s back on the spine line.

                “I’m ready,” she announced and as on her signal, the dragon leapt to the sky.

                May squeaked and held onto the spike tighter, squeezing her eyes shut. When Aedain flattened out, she opened her eyes cautiously. The huge beast underneath her was majestically gliding right above the clouds, the wings batting the air rhythmically.  May forgot she was so high above the ground, amazed by the sensation - flying on the dragon was just unbelievably awesome! If only she could tell that anyone back at home… No one would believe her anyway. The thought, that she was actually riding on the evil arrogant asshole Aedain was kind of unsettling, but now that he assumed the form of a dragon she didn’t care; it was just too great.

The Witch’s Tower

Riada Swamp

                The huge crimson form of a dragon gracefully glided right above the clouds, the wide-spread leathery wings making a monotone soothing noise.

                Aedain was surprised, that the woman did not panic, when she saw his true form – she seemed rather amazed than afraid. The flight went smoothly as well. She was quiet and was not bothering him. As they were almost at the destination, Aedain decided to warn her, so that she could prepare for the landing. He roared. The woman stirred on his back, clutching one of the bone spikes tighter.

                “What is it?” May asked as she straightened her back.

                “We land,” Aedain replied.

                He swished his tail and folded the wings, when he dove towards the ground. The woman grabbed him stronger and screamed sharply. As he landed on the ground with a loud thud and stilled, he laid on the ground and outstretched his right wing to enable the woman getting off.

                May let out a disappointed sigh, when the ride was over. She furrowed her brows, looking at the strange position Aedain assumed. Carefully, she crawled off his back onto the leathery wing and seated herself, before pushing with her hands. She barely managed to stop herself from squeaking, as she slid downwards like on a slopping chute. She got on her feet quickly and combed her ruffled hair with the fingers.

                Aedain transformed back into his usual form, having to endure the pain of re-forming his body once again. When he was finally done, he looked at May. Her knees were buckling, but her eyes glistened with a childish joy. The demon found it strange, that the idiot woman actually enjoyed herself, while most humans would be horrified. Was she in a right mental state?

                “Come,” Aedain ordered. May trailed behind him obediently.

                “Okay,” she said in an abnormally happy voice. The demon looked at her with suspicion. She was suspiciously docile for her.

                When May noticed that he was studying her face, she looked back at her and curved her lips into a smile.

                “Something’s wrong?” she questioned him.

                “Why were you not afraid of my original form?” he asked her.

                The woman opened her eyes wider and parted her lips.

                “Why should I?” she responded with a question.

                “Most humans would fear it,” said Aedain.

                May laughed, as though he said something hilarious.

                “Come on, I got to see a dragon, a real one! It doesn’t happen often. Thanks for the ride, by the way. I really enjoyed it.” May told him, not mentioning to Aedain, that she preferred him as a magnificent dragon than his usual asshole self.

                Aedain averted his gaze from the woman, baffled with her answer. He felt pleased by the compliment, but was confused by her sudden change of altitude. He looked at her once again and saw, that she was observing the surroundings with curiosity.

                The landscape looked like it was cut out from a fairy tale – tall trees surrounded acres of fertile soil. May could see distant silhouettes of people working on fields and in the orchards, watching over herds of sheep, cows and other domestic animals. The town across the valley seemed to be too neat to be real – the houses must have been built strictly according to the plan, each of the them had a roof of red tiles, and the bleached walls were clean reflecting the sunlight, shining even from the distance.

                Even if the arrival of the dragon had been noticed, none of the villagers showed any signs of concern – no one made a pause in work to look at the potential threat.

                May and Aedain were on the outskirts of the village and were standing before a tower – the building seemed to be erected not by a hand of human; the girl couldn’t discern a piece of stone used to build it. Thick vines were entwining the tower, making an impression that they created the structure. Here and there, large snowy white flowers were blooming. As she got closer, May saw that thorns long as her fingers were growing out of the vines.

                “The witch lives there?” she asked, pointing the tower.

                 The demon nodded.

                May thought, that the tower looked like a witch’s lair indeed; from what she figured out, the hag must be a powerful sorceress. She felt more secure to have Aedain with herself.

                “Get the witch give me the spell and tell the location of Uaimth Dorchadais,” the demon commanded, when the vines moved aside, making a hole, as though inviting the visitors inside.

                Then, he suddenly pushed May toward the entrance.

                May wiped her sweaty palms as she crept upstairs, for some reason, afraid to make a tiniest noise. The tower was scary and dusty, just like in old fairy tales, making May have a twisting feeling in her stomach. Having Aedain right behind her back didn’t ease her anxiety, maybe it even increased it. When she finally got into the chamber at the top of the tower, the girl held her breath. The door was partially open. Hesitantly, she knocked at it.

                “Hello?” she asked quietly. Then she cleared her throat and called much louder: “Hello, is anybody here?!”

                When she got no answer, May stepped inside, feeling like a thief. The room was messy, scrolls and artifacts laying in every corner of the chamber covering even a narrow bed. However, there was no trace of the owner of the tower.

                “It seems she’s not home,” May stated the obvious.

                Aedain muttered a curse under his nose and pushed himself past the girl. He scanned the messy surrounding with a displeased grimace on his face. Saying that he wasn’t happy would be an understatement; the demon growled and kicked the nearby desk, smashing it against the wall.

                May sighed, seeing the senseless destruction, but said nothing. She turned around to wait by the doorway until Aedain was finished with trashing the witch’s place.

                “Where is she?” the demon hissed out and continued smashing the furniture.

                May felt uneasy, like some loan shark taking part in demolishing a debtor’s place. She carefully made her way through the chamber, staying out of Aedain’s way. She looked at the artifacts mixed with the witch’s personal belongings, laying in disarray all over the room. When she was looking at a particularly pretty vase, her peripheral caught something interesting. May crouched and picked up a scroll. The rolled piece of parchment had a name written on it – Arnstein of Thoen Stronghold. The girl held her breath – it was the name of the priest, the very same who was about to receive a translation of the scroll on portals.

                May glanced at Aedain, who was still busy destroying the remnants of witch’s belongings and hastily hid the scroll in her dress.          

                May trailed after enraged Aedain as the demon climbed down the steep spiral stairway, inflicting more damage in the walls on his way. Once both intruders were out of the witch’s home, the vines closed the entrance.

                “She’s not here?” Baltar already caught up to Aedain and May. The huge bald demon sighed, seeing his companion shaking his head. “That’s bad. What now?”

                Without any warning, Aedain grabbed unsuspecting May and tossed the girl onto Meirch’s saddle next to Erik. She whimpered, but said nothing to her captor. However, if looks could kill, there was no word in English dictionary that could have expressed how dead Aedain would be.

                “We will follow her scent and track her down,” Aedain decided.

                May tilted her head, thinking. Wouldn’t it be more reasonable to ask the villagers where the witch could have gone? May smiled to herself – helping Aedain out of the goodness of her heart would be last thing she’d do.

                “Move,” Aedain growled and rushed forwards. Baltar sighed and sprinted after his comrade, moving with a surprising speed given his size. Meirch neighed and sprang into a gallop, nearly throwing its riders out of the saddle. May managed to grab it in the last moment. Erik finally woke up from his nap and shrieked, laying flat on the demonic horse.

                “May, duck!” Erik called and May gasped, seeing a thick branch in front of her. She did as the boy said, feeling the branch sliding over her hair.

                The chase through the Riada Swamp was frantic, both May and Erik had to keep their heads down and hold tight to Aedain’s steed. The two demons were keeping a good pace, making Meirch gallop the entire time. May’s nightmare lasted for hours – her fingers felt numb from tightly holding on to the leather saddle, her back hurt because of the uncomfortable position. Once the group was out of the forest, the girl straightened her back and relaxed a bit, trying to enjoy the ride a little. May blessed her mom for insisting that she and Hailey had to take some riding lessons.

                The scenery changed. The damp air of the Riada Swamp was left behind and a refreshing breeze greeted May, caressing her face and playing with her hair. Aedain and Baltar kept running, their stamina not faltering even though they kept sprinting for hours now.

                May saw something blue shimmering on the horizon. Soon it turned out to be water, the clear Eral River, called by the Laismarans An Eachainn. It was quite wide, but the trail led to a ford. Aedain and Baltar stopped before it, as though they were hesitant to wet their feet.

                A moment after both transformed into dragons, only to return to their usual forms when their paws touched the other bank of the river.

                “Why didn’t they do that before?” May asked Erik, referring to the change to dragons.

                The boy furrowed his brows.

                “I heard that dragons are very rare these days. There is maybe a handful of them left,” Erik said. “I think Aedain and Baltar don’t want to draw attention.”

                “It would be a dead giveaway if they were flying there and back again,” May agreed.

                She wanted to use the brief moment to talk with Erik more, but Meirch let out a sound which resembled a snort and dashed forward, not bothering to jump into the air. May and Erik squealed as the cool river water splashed onto them. The demonic horse outstretched his wings and neighed with joy, purposely batting the water with its clawed paws. Once they made to the other shore, the two riders were wet from head to toes.

                “That was not funny,” May muttered.

                Baltar laughed jovially, seeing her in such state, but Aedain remained serious.

                “Where is it?” He growled. “Where is the damn scent?!”

The Witch Hunt

                Lavena, the witch of the Riada Swamp stretched her weary legs as she reached to her traveling bag. She fished out some cheese and bit into it, enjoying the moment of rest. When her familiar, the balding eagle, squeaked miserably, she tossed him some bread.

                “We’re having a nice trip,” Lavena said to her eagle, but the bird only opened its beak in response. The witch shook her head and was about to get him more snacks when she felt something disturbing. Her senses tingled when a surge of powerful demonic energy rang through the air, spreading like a shockwave. It was invisible and undetectable for a regular human, but not for Lavena, who had a tiny bit of Laismaran blood flowing through her veins. The ancient folk of Kal Laismarr could sense the fluctuation in Laismaran aura every time they shifted their shape or even when they made small adjustments to it.

                “Oh no,” Lavena whispered when she felt the shockwave of demonic power once again. “It’s close.”

                Hurriedly, the witch began rummaging through her traveling bag. The Laismarans probably were harmless, but she didn’t want to take chances. She retrieved a dried herb and stuffed it into her mouth – it was supposed to get rid of her mostly human scent, making it impossible to follow her. The witch readjusted the mass of her silver locks and grabbed the bag.  Not wasting any more time, she got up and got on with her journey.

                The sun was nearing the horizon when Lavena had a hunch that she wasn’t alone in the area. Was it the Laismarans she felt earlier that day? The witch didn’t want to stumble on them, especially when she knew how hostile to humans most of them were. The best would be to run away, but Lavena didn’t have any more strength left today. Having to walk for a couple of days straight was enough for an elderly woman, even though spells kept her body in a great shape.

                The nearly featherless bird squeaked warningly, confirming Lavena’s suspicions.

                “I have to change a bit then,” The witch muttered and retrieved a bone bracelet form her pocket. She slid it on her wrist and chanted a short, easy spell. The effect was immediate – the silver locks became dark as night, the pale, grey eyes turned golden like eyes of all Laismarans. Lavena’s wrinkles vanished, and she admired her now smooth skin. The witch felt an odd tickling when the illusion rearranged her facial features.

                “It’s fine,” Lavena muttered to herself, touching her dark hair.

                The witch changed her appearance in the last possible moment for she heard people approaching her. Thinking that it was pointless to hide herself, from the Laismarans, she stepped out of a birch-tree coppice where she was resting.

                “Hello, travelers,” she said, surveying the newcomers – two Laismaran warriors and two more people on a horse-like beast. Lavena barely managed to mask her surprise when she noticed that the riders were humans.

                “Who are you and what are you doing here?” the group’s leader, a man with long black hair, demanded harshly.

                Lavena smiled politely in response.

                “I am merely traveling. My name is Tullia.” The witch gave him the first Laismaran name which came into her mind. The black-haired man didn’t answer her greeting. Instead, he circled the little coppice, sour expression on his face. Lavena was patiently waiting for him to return.

                “There was a scent of a human here, but it vanished,” the group’s leader stated, glaring at Lavena accusingly. “Where is it?”

                The witch froze in terror, but didn’t show it. The Laismarans were looking for her. If they dared to cross a path of a witch, they were no small fries.

                “I don’t know. I was following the scent as well, but it vanished,” Lavena said with an apologetic smile on her lips. The black-haired Laismaran frowned. The witch suddenly developed an odd feeling that she had seen him somewhere before. The memory was distant and blurry, but the grimace on the man’s face helped it resurface – a young boy with an angry face… Lavena was a little child back then, but she remembered him. He seemed to be her age back then, it was in the castle of Dun Ruanaidh.

                “You’re Prince Aedain, son of King Kaellach!” Lavena exclaimed, remembering the name. Her gaze slid over slightly surprised Aedain to his companion, a big bald oaf. If she added some hair on that shiny skull of his, he would be familiar as well.

                “And you must be the prince’s guard. I don’t quite remember your name, but I do remember that you were quite a mischievous young man,"  she said.

                The tall demon smiled widely, and he began absentmindedly petting his goatee.

                “The name is Baltar,” he said with a smile he thought to be charming, but it turned out rather creepy. “Did we meet before? I’d remember such a looker for sure.”

                Lavena bowed slightly, modestly covering her lips with her sleeve.

                “I don’t think so,” she whispered, making Baltar’s smile falter. However, the demon wasn’t the one who could be discouraged that easily. He stepped forward, completely ignoring Aedain’s warning looks and made another attempt at sending Lavena a seductive look.

                “It seems we won’t find that blasted witch anyway, so maybe we could set a camp, eat together…” Baltar whispered to her.

                “I don’t really…” Lavena was trying to wriggle herself out of the situation, but the huge demon was persistent.

                “It’s settled then. We’ll camp here,” Baltar clapped his hands.

                “Baltar,” Aedain finally decided to remind his comrade of his existence. “You are not in charge; I am. We’ll stop when I say so. And I plan to make a good use of this night.”

                Baltar glanced at Lavena, who looked stunning thanks to the spell she used. He bit on his lower lip.

                “But, Aedain,” he protested faintly. Then his face lit up as an idea came to his mind. “We can’t run at  night. May needs rest. Just look at her, she seems so tired!”

                Lavena’s gaze traveled to the human girl on the demonic horse who made a pained grimace and swayed in the saddle, clearly faking exhaustion. Aedain huffed with irritation, also having noticed the girl’s poor acting performance.

                “Why I have to put up with you idiots?” he muttered. “We move out at dawn, not later.”

                Baltar nodded and winked at Lavena. The old witch flinched, not knowing how to react to the advances of the man – the last time it happened she was fifty, and it was over sixty years ago. Trying to act natural, she sat on an overturned trunk and waited for someone to start a conversation. However, no one made any attempts – Aedain kept sending her suspecting looks, whereas the human girl and the little half-blood boy appeared to be afraid of her seemingly demonic self. Lavena cleared her throat.

                “So, you were looking for some witch,” she said, hoping to find out why she was chased. However, Aedain managed to uphold poker face.

                “Maybe,” he said quietly, his eyes staring at Lavena like he wanted to read her mind.

                “And what possibly would you want from that witch?” she dug further.

                “Not your business,” Aedain quickly finished her inquiring. Lavena felt genuine relief when Baltar returned, carrying a dead stag.

                “Roasted or raw?” he asked the witch.

                “Roasted.”

                While Baltar was singlehandedly preparing the dinner, Lavena focused her attention on the pair of humans, sitting at some distance from her. It wasn’t uncommon that Laismarans kidnapped humans once in a while for purpose of eating them. However, the girl and the little boy didn’t seem to be that terrified, so the witch guessed they weren’t the future dinner.

                “If you don’t mind me asking, why would you let the humans travel with you, Prince Aedain?” Lavena asked, remembering to use Aedain’s official title.

                The black-haired man scowled.

                “Call me that again and I will gut you,” he threatened. Seeing the terrified look on Lavena’s face he smirked with satisfaction. “The humans are my property.”

                “We aren’t!” The witch looked at the girl, who spoke up. The short, ordinary-looking, young woman stood up and glared at Aedain defiantly.

                “Yes, you are,” The Laismaran prince repeated calmly. “Now, woman, be…”

                “You own neither Erik nor me, you jerk!” the girl protested, clenching her fists and straightening her back, as though she wanted to add herself a few inches to look more intimidating.

                Not a smart move, Lavena thought when she observed Aedain walking over to the young woman. The two stared at each other. The girl didn’t seem to be willing to comply, so the Laismaran growled at her.

                “I meant that,” the girl said. Lavena sighed, hearing that her voice was slightly trembling.

                “As did I,” Aedain said, advancing on the girl. She didn’t back away, so he brought his face closer to her in an attempt to intimidate her.

                “Great, you two can either kiss or come here, because the legs are ready,” Baltar interrupted, pointing the roasted meat. Aedain suddenly pulled away from the girl as though an electricity bolt shot through him and stalked away quickly, too hastily according to Lavena. The witch smirked, seeing the prince’s reaction. When someone lived as long as she did,  one had to be smart and notice some signs. Or to be a Laismaran.

                “I believe I didn’t catch your name,” Lavena addressed the girl, who smiled a bit nervously and tucked a strand of her tangled brown hair behind her ear.

                “I’m May and this is…” she said, pointing at the boy.

                “May, eat your food,” suddenly Aedain interrupted, not allowing her to finish the sentence. May narrowed her eyes at him.

                “Oh, you do remember my name, what a surprise,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her words. Lavena already saw a warning grimace on Aedain’s face, so she decided to intervene, preventing another spat between the two.

                “May is such a lovely name. Which dukedom are you from?” Lavena asked, observing the girl. She seemed to be absolutely ordinary on the first glance – her short peasant hair was in disarray, skin and clothing dirtied. However, her hands looked too smooth. It was apparent that she never worked a day in a field.

                “I’m from Farn,” May replied, stealing a glance at Aedain, as though she suspected he might interrupt her.

                “Farn,” Lavena repeated, smiling playfully. “Tell me, May. Did you elope wanting to avoid an arranged marriage?”

                May stiffened, staring at the witch blankly.

                “W-what?” she uttered.

                “My dear, your hair may be short, and you would use a bath, but anyone with a keen eye can see that you’re a girl from a good family.” Lavena laughed. May’s face confirmed her suspicions. The witch shifted her gaze from the girl to Aedain.

                “I didn’t think that you had a taste in human girls, especially after what befell your father,” she said.

                Aedain gritted his teeth as though the witch hit some sensitive spot. He slammed his fist against a birch-tree, snapping the trunk in half.

                “I will give you a chance to leave now since we shared a meal. Take it or die,” the long-haired Laismaran said quietly, his ice-cold eyes set on Lavena.

                Not waiting for any more threats, the witch jumped to her feet, politely bowed her head and set off into the night.

The Traveler

Thoen Stronghold, Farn Dukedom

                Before paying a visit to the priest Arnstein, the old witch from the Riada Swamp stopped by the farmers’ settlement outside the walls of the mighty Thoen Stronghold. Lavena couldn’t ignore the wailing of a woman desperately searching for help for her dying husband.

                Two villagers brought before her a man in his twenties – surely once handsome, now he looked like a shadow of a man. The bones were threatening to break the pale skin; sweat covered his whole body. The witch held her breath, as her nose picked up the stench of the rotten flesh. She reached toward the dirty bandages covering the man’s chest. Once she removed them, she winced – the wound was shallow, but the infection had already spread.

                “A demon scratched him ten days ago. It’s getting worse and worse,” the patient’s wife said.

                Lavena nodded, examining the wound – the skin was almost black where the dead tissue was, a sign, that it was already too late – the flesh was rotten and even the blood must have been infected by now. The witch bit the inside of her cheek, worried. She really wanted to save this man, but herbs wouldn’t suffice, as he was on the brink of death.

                “Will you help my husband? Can you heal him?” the patient’s wife asked anxiously, worried by the pessimistic look on Lavena’s face.

                “Stand back,” the witch said firmly, rolling her sleeves.

                She closed her eyes and gently touched the man’s swollen chest. Slowly, she exhaled the air.

                “Naen dannar toerch.”

                As the witch began chanting in the ancient language of the Laismarans, warm light started seeping from the underside of her palms, engulfing the pale patient. The villagers gasped and took a few steps back, shocked by what they saw. The witch didn’t pay attention to them and continued. “Maekirra naen, yamrais lahena!”

                When Lavena  exclaimed the last word, the light flashed, blinding the gathered. When the glow subsided and died out, the witch fell to her knees, panting heavily, exhausted. She pulled herself up, her knees buckling a bit, and looked at the man she had just healed – the wound on his chest miraculously healed, leaving only a thin scar. The swell and dead tissue vanished without a trace. The man’s wife was laughing through the tears, hugging her husband.

                The witch smiled, happy that she made a good deed in this cruel world, but she tensed when she heard a rumbling sound.

                “Humans and horses,” she muttered, identifying the source of the noise.

                After a while, a small unit of soldiers rode through the village, surrounding the gathering with the elderly witch in the middle. The riders were clad in chain mail, the blue capes with golden rose embroidered on them – the crest of the Thoen house. The horses had chain mail just as their riders did. One of the steeds carried an extra man – a young village boy.

                “That’s the witch, sir. It's her!” the lad exclaimed, pointing his finger at the old woman.

                Lavena straightened her back and looked confidently at the soldiers. She stepped forward and addressed the warriors.

                “Which one of you, honorable soldiers, is the commander?” she asked calmly.

                “It would be me,” a young man replied her, riding forward. The witch noticed that he was merely a boy. “I heard, that you are a witch. Is it true?”

                Lavena frowned, weighing her options for a while. Finally, she decided to risk telling the truth.

                “It’s true. So what?” she snapped at the youngster.

                 “A real witch!” the young man exclaimed. “Excellent. My lord has a job for you. You will follow me to the castle.”

                Lavena furrowed her brows, not liking the soldier’s attitude.

                “Why should I? I don’t even know who you are!” she exclaimed and made a few steps forward. The young man looked, as if he lost some of his confidence; the fellow soldiers appeared to become more nervous in her presence as well.

                “Forgive me my rudeness,” he said, bowing his head to her. “My name is Leif from the Agnar family, and I am a captain in the service of Duke Thoen, who rules the Farn Dukedom. I have orders to bring every demon hunter, warlock and witch I find to the castle. I didn’t want to threaten you.”

                The witch from the Riada Swamp furrowed her brows.

                “Is there a problem with a demon?”

                Captain Leif nodded and frowned.

                “Yes, but you will have to talk to the Duke himself about the details. I am forbidden to say more. However, the hunters who will slay the demon will be handsomely rewarded.”

                “Rewarded?” Lavena repeated  slowly. She wasn’t interested in money, but the youngster caught her attention. Perhaps she could take a little detour before visiting the old fool Arnstein.

                “Lead the way, young one,” she said.

                The witch followed the soldiers to the Thoen Castle; along the way, she kept questioning the young captain about the goal of their journey.

                “Captain Leif, do you know a man called Arnstein? He’s a priest in the temple outside the Stronghold,” she asked the young blond man.

                The man shifted uneasily on the saddle.

                “Was he a friend of yours?” he asked, clearly avoiding the woman’s gaze.

                Lavena nodded, feeling that the captain didn’t have good news. She had some grim suspicions from the beginning, but the look on Leif’s face confirmed them.

                “He’s dead,” he said shortly. The young warrior looked at the witch and smiled at her sadly. “Accept my condolences. The priest had been killed by the demon along with the son of Duke Royse and his whole escort. ”

                The witch of the Riada Swamp hung her head, contemplating the loss of a close friend.

                Soon the Thoen Stronghold appeared in its whole glory, the grey stone walls towering above the landscape along with the peaks the numerous guardian towers. The witch saw the huge castle several times before, but every time its size and splendor were making the same overwhelming impression.

                Leif led her up, to the gates of the upper palace which was the house of Duke Thoen himself. Lavena didn’t have much time to admire the beauty of luxurious interiors. Captain Leif kept hurrying her, until they reached to a throne room which was nearly empty, not counting several guards and a man and an elderly woman standing behind the throne.

                The simple granite chair was occupied by a man of a royal posture. He was clad in an armor, sword by his side, even though he was in the palace. The brown hair was graying. Despite the slight look of melancholy, the Duke had the gaze of a hawk.

                “Welcome to my castle, witch,”  the man said in a deep baritone, greeting the visitor.

                As the Lavena approached him and was seated near him, she noticed that he looked very weary, as though he experienced something that broke him. The Duke sent her a distrustful look, when Leif came to him and began whispering into his ear, presumably reporting everything he knew about the newcomer.

                “What task would you have for me?” the witch asked, bowing politely.

                “I want the demon who kidnapped my daughter dead. And I want my child back,”  the man stated straightforwardly, his eyes showing lots of emotions from pain and sadness to rage.

                “The Lady was kidnapped by a demon?” Lavena asked curiously. “Please tell me more. It could be helpful.”

                “Very well,” the man took a deep breath. “Lady Maewyn is my only daughter and the heiress to the Thoen line. About ten days ago she was on her way to the village temple, accompanied by her betrothed, servants and escort. Suddenly, a demon appeared out of sky, slaughtered the men and took my poor Maewyn…”

                “What did he look like?” the witch asked.

                Leif spoke instead of the lord.

                “It’s hard to say. The servants fled in panic, and none of them saw him clearly. It is only certain, that he had a human-like form.”

                “After so many days tracking the demon would be impossible,” the witch sighed. “Most probably your daughter isn’t among the living anymore.”

                The Duke clenched his fingers around the hilt of his sword. The young warrior named Leif cleared his throat.

                “Honorable witch, what if Mae… the Lady is still alive? The demon didn’t kill her like the others; he abducted her!” Leif was reasoning desperately. “He must want to keep her alive, in his clutches. There has to be a way to save her!”

                After Leif’s passionate speech, silence fell in the chamber like a heavy veil. The old woman shifted uneasily – she didn’t plan on embarking on a journey to find some lost Lady, but she didn’t have the conscience to turn down those people. After all, the same demon was responsible for the death of her friend Arnstein. There was another reason as well, a far more unsettling one, connected with the translation of the scroll the priest commissioned…

                “Tell us exactly what the girl did before the demon took her,” the witch ordered the young soldier. “Tell where she went, who she met, what she touched, everything.”

                Leif exchanged the looks with Duke Thoen and the elderly lady who was standing silently behind the throne. The young warrior focused back on the witch.

                “Ehh… the Lady visited the temple a few times. She was spending some time at the village and nights in her chambers…” Leif began, looking at the old lady standing behind the throne, who nodded, confirming his words.

                “Did she meet someone suspicious, someone not from the castle?” Lavena questioned.

                The young man was thinking for a while and then paled, as he remembered something.

                “Oh no… she met someone like that. Lady Maewyn played near the village with an orphaned boy before she was taken. The child wasn’t from the village and one day was just gone. I tried asking about the boy, but none of the peasant saw him after the Lady was abducted.” Leif buried his face in hands. “Do you think, that the child was a demon in disguise?”

                “You let Maewyn spend time with someone suspicious? You were supposed to guard her!” The old lady suddenly snapped and harshly scolded Leif, glaring daggers at the young lad. She opened her mouth to continue the tirade, but the Duke slammed his fist against the armrest of the granite throne.

                “Silence!” He raised his voice and sternly looked at the older lady. “Hilda, show the witch those. Maybe it will give her a clue.”

                The Duke passed the lady called Hilda a package wrapped in silk and a scroll. The woman took the items, bowed and handed them to the witch. Lavena unwrapped the silk carefully. As she glanced at what was inside – the wooden frame and the shattered pieces of a mirror – she stiffened. The witch was staring at the item for a while, and then she quickly wrapped it back, as though she didn’t want to neither touch nor look at it anymore. She recognized the distinct markings on the frame; she knew what the artifact was and why it was broken. The shattered mirror was the soul-switching mirror, one of the ancient artifacts, which was supposed to be destroyed many centuries ago. The glass was strengthened by complicated spells and couldn’t be broken by using the force of the muscles. The sole thing that could  overcome the magic, was another magic. The mirror was in pieces, what must have meant only one – it served its purpose; It was already used.

                Then the old woman unrolled the scroll, which was the portrait of the Lady Maewyn. She took a look and raised her eyebrow. If the girl from the picture had shoulder-length hair, she would be strangely familiar. She could have sworn, that it was the same person who she met near the ford at Eral River in company of Prince Aedain.

                “I have one more question… did the Lady behave normally? Was there something odd like her, like did she change?”

                Hilda and Duke Thoen exchanged looks.

                “To be honest, she did change,” the noblewoman said quietly. “A few weeks before Maewyn’s disappearance she had an accident; she lost her memory and her behavior changed a lot. She became more headstrong, disobedient, more like a boy than a lady. As if she was someone else.”

                “Someone else,” the witch repeated, glancing at the portrait.

                “I’m sorry, but I’m not able to help you with that,” she said stiffly, quickly rolling the scroll. The thoughts on her mind were racing at a crazy speed. Some pieces of the puzzle hopped into her mind instantly – the mysterious visitor from the other world who claimed to be the Farn Lady, the kidnapping, meeting that girl and Aedain claiming to own her. It was unlikely that those were coincidental. The old woman had a hunch that young Aedain was dangerously close to his goal, too close.

                Captain Leif and lady Hilda inhaled sharply, disappointment reflecting on their faces. Duke Thoen, however, kept his calm. He was warily observing the witch, clearly knowing, that Lavena knew something and whatever it was, was withholding it from the Duke.

                “So you decline,” he said quietly, as he stared the witch down.

                Duke Thoen furrowed his brows, not taking his eyes of Lavena.

                 “If you truly want peace with me, tell me, where is my daughter. I can tell that you know,” he said firmly.

                “You have a sharp mind then,” the witch replied. “Don’t send your people after the girl. The demon who took her will slaughter them all. Don’t ask me why he kidnapped her, but you won’t get her back by force.”

                “Do you know this demon?” the Duke asked.

                The witch smiled humorlessly.

                “Oh yes, I know him,” she replied. “He’s a hell of a troublemaker.”

The Pyre

Dulheim

                The chase after the witch continued, having taken its toll on the members of Aedain’s group. Erik couldn’t hold his eyes open and was napping on Meirch’s saddle. May had to use all of her willpower to keep herself awake so as not to fall from the beast’s back. Meirch lost its usual playfulness and even Baltar was less talkative. The only one who showed some signs of motivation was Aedain – he was looking stubbornly for Lavena’s trails and scent. However, the witch seemed to evaporate somehow and the demon was going in circles, traveling even at night.

                “Baltar, do you think we could stop for a couple of hours?” May whispered.

                The demon scowled, glancing at the two tired hostages on Meirch’s back.

                “It’s up to Aedain. We stop when he says so,” Baltar said firmly and set his gaze on Aedain’s back.

                “Please, say something to him. We can’t ride much longer,” May tried to convince the bald demon, pointing her chin at Aedain. She swayed in the saddle and blinked several times, struggling to keep herself awake. The tall demon smiled lightly, marching without any signs of weariness.

                “I’m not the one who wants to sleep. Ask him yourself,” he responded. May snorted.

                “I’m not suicidal. Please do it for me, just once,” she pleaded. The huge muscled demon arched his eyebrow and smirked like an unruly kid.

                “Hey, Aedain, May wants to rest!” Baltar yelled to his superior, shamelessly setting her up.

                May sent him her poisonous glare. Aedain looked at both coldly over his shoulder.

                “Tell that lazy woman to stop complaining, Baltar,” the long-haired demon said, gracing May with his trademark, malicious glare.

                She furrowed her brows, frustrated by the arrogant, high-and-mighty tone.

                “Baltar, tell that rude jerk to stop bossing me around,” May retorted.

                Baltar opened his mouth to pass her words, but Aedain interrupted him.

                “If she irritates me further, she will regret it. Tell her that, Baltar,” he hissed out.

                “Neither of you needs me, right?” The bald demon sighed, his eyes wandering from Aedain to May. Baltar rolled his eyes when he saw her readying herself to confront his ill-tempered comrade once again.

                “Oh, and what possibly could you do to me? I mean, you plan to murder me after you find your Spear, so I don’t care about your threats anymore!” May raised her voice, losing control over herself. “All I asked was to rest for a while. We’re exhausted, don’t you see it? My butt is sore from sitting on this damn saddle for so many hours!”

                May drew a breath, trying to calm down after her tirade. Aedain said nothing in response to her words. The muscles of his jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth. Calm and composed, he walked over to Meirch and grabbed May’s knee. Before she had a chance to voice her protest, he yanked her leg, making her fall of the beast’s back. Aedain snatched her in the last moment to prevent her from slamming into the ground and made sure she was standing.

                “Now your backside will no longer have to suffer the inconvenience of the ride,” he said, giving May a mocking smile.

                “W-what?” May stuttered, realizing what it meant. “You want me to walk?!”

                Aedain shrugged his shoulders, grabbing Meirch’s reins and leading the beast forward.

                “Better watch to keep up with me and Baltar. I will not be saving you from any more Laismarans,” he called to her.

                May clenched her fists, wanting to scream from frustration and anger.

                “You know what? You’re a monster with no conscience!” she yelled after Aedain. However, the demon didn’t even turn around or look at her – he just kept walking as though she was merely a buzzing, annoying mosquito. Muttering further offensive words describing Aedain, she jogged after the demons.

                May’s shorter legs and lack of stamina didn’t make it easy to catch up with her captors. Over time the distance between her and the group grew, but now came the moment to change it. She took a couple of deep breaths, trying to convince herself that her whole body isn’t aching and stiff form exhaustion. Ignoring the blisters on her feet, she ran to Aedain and the rest of the group.

                Panting, she reached Meirch and grabbed the saddle, wanting the beast to haul her for a while.

                “May, did you hear that?” Erik suddenly woke up and sat straight, looking at May from above.

                May tilted her head listening – the boy was right; it seemed like some noise was coming from behind the next hill, exactly the direction they were heading.

                “Voices?” she guessed. As they got closer, she became entirely sure that those were people. It seemed that it was somewhat a commotion over there – someone was screaming in a high-pitched voice; others were shouting and laughing. It seemed like a quite a celebration… one of the worst sorts.

                Surprisingly, Aedain didn’t decide to take a detour and avoid the gathering, but headed straight toward it.

                “Aedain, let’s just go ahead,” Baltar muttered, but his comrade ignored him. When he saw that Aedain’s pace only quickened, the bald demon muttered a curse in the Laismaran language and reluctantly followed his superior. “Great. Here we go again.”

                May craned her neck, observing the scene with curiosity. The source of the noise turned out to be a gathering of some peasants on a fairly spacious clearing, right outside the village. They were so busy out shouting each other that they didn’t even notice the arrival of the demons.

                “Burn them, burn those filthy changelings!” one voice yelled and the rest roared in approval.

                May developed a nauseating feeling in her stomach when she noticed that the villagers built a pyre, like the ones used for burning witches in Middle Ages. When she climbed on her toes, she saw who was supposed to be tied to the wooden pole in the middle of the pyre...

                “Show your true self, monster!” one of the men exclaimed, whipping a small figure with leather belt. May gasped, when she saw that the victim was a little black-haired girl. She screamed as the tool of torture ripped skin off her back and yellow shimmering light engulfed her form. Golden winding lines covered her body like snakes, and she transformed into a mermaid-like creature, with fish tail instead of her legs, fins where her arms were. Once in her true demon form, she got brutally tossed onto the pyre next to an infant which looked like her, probably her younger sibling.

                May stared in horror at the cruel scene that was playing before her very eyes. Children… Those men wanted to murder little children. Her instincts told her to stop this bestiality. May’s fists clenched, blood begun running faster through her veins as the flame of her anger was lit within her. Without thinking much, she made a step toward the crowd, wanting to save the poor kids somehow, but a heavy arm fell on her shoulder. May turned her head to see that it was Baltar, who didn’t let her move.

                “Easy, girl,” the huge demon muttered and pointed with his chin at Aedain. May looked at the long-haired demon as well.

                To tell that Aedain was angry would be an understatement. The Laismaran prince looked like a fury incarnated – his pupils turned vertical, betraying his dragon heritage. It seemed that an inextinguishable fire was raging in his golden eyes. He clenched his teeth, but May could clearly see the twitching jaw muscle. She understood why Baltar stopped her – she wasn’t the only one angered by the execution, and the other one was a better man to get the job done.

                “Unforgiveable!” Aedain hissed, rushing forward.

                He reached for Sholais and Dorreach, swiftly drawing the both blades. May winced when the demon literally cut his way through the crowd, striking down the peasants without a word of warning.

                “What the…” one of the executioners uttered, staring in disbelief at the newcomer and the bloody corpses of his neighbors who died without even having enough time to let out a scream.

                “It’s a demon!” some plump man from the crowd yelled, pointing a fork at the armored demon. “Everyone, kill him like the rest of the changelings! Avenge our people!”

                Aedain looked down on him, sending the villager a glare which usually was reserved for worms.

                “I would love to see you try,” the demon replied, smirking. Without any prior warning, Aedain advanced on the villagers. The peasants were armed with weapons frequently used by angry mobs – farming tools like forks and scythes. They stood no chance with a trained warrior like Aedain. The demon effortlessly disposed of the men standing nearest to him with one accurate kick and finished the work with his swords. Having seen the power and skill of the Laismaran warrior, the rest of the peasants dropped their weapons and tried to save their lives by escaping. Aedain followed them, methodically killing off the slowest of the crowd.

                Observing Aedain skillfully making a pulp out of the cruel villagers was most enticing, but May saw with the corner of her eye something the long-haired demonic warrior didn’t – while he was busy slaughtering the peasants, fire from a torch made its way to the pyre where the two Laismaran children were laying.

                The dry wood quickly started burning, the flames dangerously nearing the poor victims. With fish tails instead of legs, the children couldn’t even escape.

                “Aedain, the pyre!” May shouted as she shoved Baltar’s hand off her shoulder and darted forward. The demon immediately withdrew his attention from the villagers and looked at the pyre; the flames shoot up, engulfing the wood. He bit on his lower lip and looked with disdain at the escaping peasants – they were getting away.

                “Haign,” Aedain cursed, abandoning the villagers.

                He rushed to the screaming children. The fire was burning his hands, but he didn’t seem to mind it. First, he pulled out the girl and tossed her onto the ground. Then he reached further for the infant.

                May nearly landed flat on her face as her legs got tangled in her skirt. By the time she made it to the demon girl, Aedain already had the wailing baby in his arms.

                May kneeled by the girl and took a look at her – the scales and skin were covered with blisters in certain places. Her back was bleeding, torn by the whip. She was breathing rapidly, her fins shaking uncontrollably.

                “It’s okay; you're safe now,” May spoke to the child in a soothing voice.

                The girl stared at May blankly as though she wasn’t really noticing her presence. When the mermaid’s gaze focused on her face and green eyes, she shrieked and tried to crawl away from her.

                “No, no, don’t kill me,” the child was pleading. May was startled by the reaction, but she was surprised even more when the little mermaid crawled toward Aedain and gripped his leg tightly, as though searching for his protection.

                “Help me,” she whispered.

The Demon’s Heart

                The little mermaid girl was sobbing and when Aedain tried to free his leg from her tight grip, she wailed even louder. The demon furrowed his brows, but wasn’t as  irritated as May expected him to be. Instead of kicking the child aside, he patted the girl’s head.

                “We are going back to the river.” Aedain glanced at the mermaid children. Then he looked at May. “Are you planning on standing there like an idiot, woman? Take this infant.”

                May bit her tongue, not letting Aedain’s insult affect her. She stepped forward and took the Laismaran baby from the demon’s arms. Aedain placed the child delicately in May’s embrace, careful not to worsen its burns.

                When the mermaid girl saw what Aedain was doing, she panicked.

                “What are you doing with my brother? Don’t hand it over to her, she’s a human! She’ll kill him!” the girl was screaming as she tugged the warrior’s plate armor.

                “She will not harm your brother. You have my word for that,” Aedain said and sent May a warning look as though he was half-expecting her to do something nasty to the infant.

                May returned a hostile glare, but then her face softened when she smiled gently at the mermaid girl.

                “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of your brother,” May assured the girl, but the child didn’t seem to be convinced by her honest words. The little mermaid kept glancing at May with suspicion, but she seemed to trust Aedain. She showed no signs of fear when the demon lifted her.

                “Baltar, help the woman get on Meirch,” Aedain commanded.

                Baltar muttered something under his nose, but obeyed.

                May focused on not dropping the baby when the bald warrior helped her get back on the saddle. Erik craned his neck and curiously looked at the little child in May’s arms. Like his sister, the baby boy had a fish tail covered in silver scales. However, they looked greyer now for the scales were far too dry. The child flailed its fins weakly and let out a quiet whining sound. May rocked the baby, trying to calm it down. She felt terrible seeing the bruises, blood and blisters from fire on a body of such a small child. How could the villagers do such a thing to the baby? Maybe it wasn’t human, but it was so innocent…

                She clutched the mermaid infant tighter when Meich jumped into the air. May locked her thigh-grip, squeezing the demonic horse with her legs from fear of falling. Thankfully, Meirch was an intelligent beast and flew very low so as not to scare his passengers unnecessarily. May looked at the two demons transforming into dragons and flying ahead of Meirch.

                It wasn’t long when the shimmering waters of Eral River were in sight again. Aedain chose the place where the water level was low and the riverbank wasn’t steep. He and Baltar landed and assumed the more comfortable human form, but Meirch made another circle over the landing site, approaching the ground slowly. The beast touched down very delicately, so that May didn’t even feel a thing. Once it stopped, Meirch let out a self-satisfied neigh.

                “Good job, Meirch,” May praised the demonic horse.

                Erik jumped off the saddle like a monkey, but May waited for someone to help her down. She could have jumped off the high demonic horse, but he didn’t want to give the baby a concussion. She observed Aedain walking towards the water and further, until he was waist-deep in the river. Slowly, he dipped the mermaid girl in the cool water. The child winced, but when she got used to the temperature change, she smiled, feeling relief.

                “Do you feel better now?” Aedain asked with gentleness, which seemed to be so unusual for him.

                The mermaid girl nodded and relaxed in the demon’s arms. Aedain’s gaze lingered for a while on the child, but then he looked over his shoulder straight at May who was still sitting on Meirch’s back.

                May nodded, guessing what he meant – the children would probably feel better if they were in water. After all, they were fish-like demons.

                “Meirch,” May whispered and the beast eagerly rushed towards its master, trotting into the river. When the steed stopped its belly wasn’t even touching the water. May swung her leg over Merich’s back and bit her lower lip, preparing herself for the contact with cold water.

                “Get in here,” Aedain hurried her, ordering her around as always.

                “All right, I know,” May looked at the still, injured demon baby in her arms and slid from the saddle right into the cold water.

                “Gah!” She yelped, when the feeling of coldness overwhelmed her senses. She lifted the mermaid baby so that it wouldn’t drown and shivered. Her teeth were chattering when she uttered: “How long do we h-have to s-stay here?”

                “Till noon should be enough for the young ones to recuperate,” Aedain replied calmly as though the water temperature wasn’t affecting him at all.

                “Unill noon?!” May squeaked, realizing with horror that it meant standing two or three hours in the freezing water. She glanced at the silent baby in her arms – the little fins began moving. “I’ll die of hypothermia until noon. Besides, won’t you catch cold too?”

                Aedain looked at her with a mix of annoyance and pity reflecting in his golden eyes.

                “My race does not go down with human ailments,” the demon explained.

                “How about infections?” May asked, worriedly looking at the bruises and burn marks on the mermaids’ little bodies.

                 Aedain’s face expressed earlier pity for May’s ignorance, now he was looking at the girl like she was mentally challenged.

                “Laismarans who spend most of their lives in water cannot be affected by infections from it, instead it heals their wounds. Do you think I would make you stand here for my amusement?” he answered her query with a question.

                May winced, trying to stop her body from shivering and convincing herself that the water isn’t that cold anymore.

                “It sounds like something you’d do,” she muttered. May considered adding one snappy remark more, but changed her mind when the baby stirred in her embrace, slowly regaining its strength. It opened its eyes and looked at May with childish curiosity. The girl smiled when the little creature entwined its tail around her arm. The infant kept observing her, the innocent golden eyes surveying her short damp hair, her facial features. When the baby boy looked at May’s green eyes, its friendly attitude vanished. The child screamed loudly, frantically flailing with its delicate fins. May yelped when the surprisingly strong fish tail slapped her face.

                “What are you doing with my brother, human?!” the mermaid girl yelled at May, out shouting the wailing of the baby.

                “Nothing,” May gasped as she tried to calm the frightened infant down. She was barely able to hold the little Laismaran as the baby kept wriggling in her arms and smacking her with the tail repeatedly. “Shhh, there’s nothing to be afraid of. Ugh!”

                May groaned when she got hit squarely in the face again. She looked at the mermaid girl.

                “How are your parents coping with you two?” she asked the rhetorical question while attempting to get the baby to lie still.

                The mermaid girl shifted uneasily and averted her gaze from May.

                “Humans killed them both,” she whispered. “We lived near their village, pretending to be humans, but they saw my brother. When we are little we can’t transform yet.”

                May bit her lower lip, almost feeling guilty of being human after hearing the girl’s tale.

                “I’m sorry for your loss,” she murmured, knowing that those words couldn’t possibly bring comfort for children who just got their parents slaughtered. The mermaid girl sent her a trustless look, as though she thought May was misleading her.

                “You humans are never sorry,” she said, her golden eyes fixated on May and voice trembling with barely contained emotions. “You think it’s fine to kill us, because we’re Laismaran, because we’re not of your race. All my life I’ve been scared of humans, all this time hiding… and you dare to call us monsters, demons. You are ones who are true demons!”

                The mermaid girl gave May one last look full of hatred and snuggled closer to Aedain, instinctively searching his protection. May averted her gaze too, suddenly feeling bad. It was not only because she pitied the Laismaran orphans – it was because she saw today that the little mermaid’s words were true.

                “It is rare to see you speechless,” Aedain suddenly spoke up. “Usually you are very eager to call us monsters and beasts.”

                May’s head snapped up and she looked at the demon. She felt a mix of shame and anger surge through her mind, because when she wasn’t answering  a mocking smile graced Aedain’s smug face.

                “These children are no monsters,” May said as calmly as she could. “But you are.”

                Aedain snorted, as though he considered the insult amusing. Surprisingly for May, he didn’t continue the spat. The demon looked away, the mocking expression leaving his face and strange sadness filling his golden eyes as he stared at the distant mountains in the north.

                “Someone has to be if the Laismarans are to reclaim what was taken from them centuries ago,” he said quietly, addressing no one in particular. His gaze lingered on the tiny silhouettes of the Digerholm Mountains for a longer while before Aedain suddenly looked at May, as if he just remembered that she was standing there the whole time. The demon arched his eyebrow, observing the shivering girl and shifted his attention to Baltar and Erik, who were standing on the riverbank.

                “Boy, come and switch the woman!” Aedain called to Erik.

                The blonde child sighed and nodded, making his way to the icy-cold water. Once he made it to the place where Aedain was standing, Erik looked curiously at the mermaids.

                “Are they alright?” he asked, his teeth chattering.

                “They will live,” Aedain responded shortly as he stepped closer to May. Ignoring her protests, he snatched the mermaid infant out of May’s arms and made Erik hold it. “As for you, woman, get out of the river.”

                May blinked, surprised, but let out a sigh of relief as she couldn’t feel her fingers and toes anymore.

                “Okay,” she said and got to the riverbank after checking if Erik was holding the baby properly.

                When she got to sit on a dry, warm rock, May closed her eyes and smiled to herself – she wasn’t freezing anymore and her sore legs were resting. She stretched her poor, aching limbs and purred, feeling much better than when she was jogging after the demons.

                “He went soft on you.”

                May’s eyes snapped open and she saw Baltar seating himself next to her. The bald demon removed his heavy axe from its place behind his back and relaxed, observing Aedain and the Laismaran children.

                “I thought Aedain was going to let you freeze for at least another hour or so,” Baltar said with a carefree smile.

                May’s gaze wandered to the long-haired demon who was just delicately encouraging the mermaid girl to try to float on her own. Aedain looked strangely different when he was with those demon children, as though he was a separate being than the cold-hearted cruel killer she knew.

                “Maybe even Aedain has a heart,” May came to the conclusion. Baltar sighed, removing his heavy boots.

                “His father was like that too,” the bald demon said. “He cared for every single Laismaran. He used to say that we needed to look out for each other because there are so few of us left. It seems that Aedain thinks that way as well.”

                “Aedain must have admired his father,” May said. Baltar smiled humorlessly.

                “Admired? He hated his father,” the demon explained. Then Baltar winced and let out a disgusted sound when the stench of his bootless feet reached his nose. He hastily dipped his huge feet into the water as though his life depended on keeping them there. “Damn, what a smell! I never thought that my feet could stink like that.”

                “Me neither,” May said, covering her nose.

The Foreign Ship

Orvik, Karhadon

                Nesrin was pacing nervously in the usual meeting place where she reported to her superior Zhawn. The news she was about to convey wasn’t good, she feared her master’s wrath. What if he sent her back to where she came from? The mere thought made her dread her fate. Nesrin shook her head, chasing the negative thoughts away. She reprimanded herself for being foolish. However, she stiffened when she felt the creaking of rusty, unused hinges as the door leading to the highest tower of the Red Castle opened.

                “What did you find out?” Nesrin heard Zhawn’s raspy, impatient voice. She turned around, her thin white gown swirling around her frame and locked her pale blue eyes with Zhawn’s golden ones.

                “Aedain defeated the Laismarans I sent after him,” she said, mentally preparing herself for telling Zhawn the rest. “Moreover, he’s looking for the human sorceress, Lavena. I believe she might point him in the right direction.”

                Nesrin stilled, waiting for Zhawn’s reaction.

                Her superior considered her words for a while, a pleased smile twisting the corners of his mouth. Nesrin furrowed her brows, confused by such an unusual behavior; Zhawn didn’t seem to be upset by the bad news in the slightest, quite the opposite – he began laughing.

                “He will find the Dragonslayer’s Spear,” Zhawn said, grinning.

                Nesrin was speechless for a while.

                “But,” she uttered. “I don’t understand. If Aedain finds the Spear…”

                “I want him to find it,” Zhawn interrupted, looking at Nesrin. “It would save us a lot of time and energy.”

                Nesrin smiled, understanding her master’s plan. She averted her gaze from the cloaked silhouette of Zhawn to set in on the sea. She discerned a tiny dot on the horizon, carried toward Karhadon’s haven by the wild waves.

                Zhawn was also observing the corvette in the distance. Laismarans built no ships, but the humans of the seaside dukedoms took pride in their ship manufacturing skills. No other dukedom could compete with the Volden Islands, known for the swiftest, most endurable boats and the toughest warships. However, even the islanders couldn’t create a ship capable of sailing across the great sea. But the corvette which was speeding towards the haven in Orvik was different as its design was not from the Callesmere Empire.

                “Zhawn, what are your orders?” Nesrin drew Zhwan’s attention away from the ship. He furrowed his brows, his thoughts returning to his task.

                “I need Dulheim to join our little game. We need to stir up a little provocation. Nesrin, you will go Thoen Stronghold,” Zhawn said.

                Nesrin nodded, her skin becoming paler, almost transparent. Her bright eyes never left the distant silhouette of the ship.

                “My brothers are coming,” she whispered before turning into a million snowflakes that glided toward the sky.

Tangled

Dulheim

                May’s lids were getting heavier as sun rays were making her feel blissfully warm and relaxed, the voices of Erik and the little Laismarans were like a lullaby to her. She barely noticed when Aedain left the children in water with Erik and got to the shore. The melody of splashing water and joyful laughter brought May to the verge of a dream – she swayed, falling asleep.

                “Woman.” May woke up instantly, startled by Aedain’s deep voice.

                She rubbed her eyes and inwardly cursed the demon for interrupting her nap. May furrowed her brows and closed her eyes again as she decided to ignore Aedain, until she heard him call her by her name. For god’s sake! If he called Baltar by his name, why would he keep addressing her as a ‘woman’? May heard an annoyed growling behind her when Aedain began to lose his patience.

                “Woman!” he repeated, his voice showing anger. May trembled slightly, but didn’t change her mind. She would just ignore him, the way he did it to her most of the time.

                Then, she felt a pressure against her back and lost balance, falling of the nice, big, warm rock she was napping on. Aedain shoved her into the river, and May landed in the shallow water. She got her head over the surface quickly, coughing and trying to get rid of the water she drank. May cursed loudly, pissed off at a demon, who just kicked her into the river. She got up slowly, soaking with water; her damp hair plastered to the face. She turned around to grace that bastard Aedain with the most elaborate insults she could think of, but stopped in mid sentence. May felt her blood rushing to her face.

                In front of her stood the black-haired demon, dressed only in his pants and the knee-high leather boots. His hair, usually gathered into a ponytail, now were let loose, falling on his back and reaching the waist, plastered to his wet torso. May felt her jaw dropping and blushed, as she looked on the half-naked man. And it was a sight to behold. She found herself admiring his astoundingly toned muscles – a perfection in every inch. May could feel her heart pound faster at the sight of demon’s demon's demon's naked torso – in her short life she haven’t really had a chance to look at many men’s bare chests and Aedain was undoubtedly the most attractive man she ever saw. And would see, probably, because he happened to be the one who planned to murder her sometime soon. May knew perfectly that he was her captor and the evil bastard, who was about to wipe out the entire humanity, but it was difficult for her to tear her eyes off him and ignore the sound of the blood crazily rushing through her veins.

                She looked elsewhere, but as soon as Aedain saw her attention to divert from him, he began to emit a low growling noise in his throat. May looked back at him and noticed that he was glaring at her, as though he wanted something from her.

                “Quit idling around and keep your eye on the children,” Aedain ordered and turned about.

                May clenched her fists so hard that the knuckles turned white. She didn’t know if she was shaking from cold or from anger at Aedain’s rudeness – probably both.

                “I needed some rest. I’m not your slave!” May hissed through the clenched teeth, clumsily crawling out of the river.

                Aedain looked at her over his shoulder with a dangerous glint in his eye.

                “I am in charge here. You will obey me,” he said with a smug grin and was on his way.

                May felt that Aedain just crossed the line and exceeded the limit to her patience. How dare he?! She wouldn’t let him treat her like property! Without thinking much, or rather without thinking at all, she picked up a stone, a larger one, and narrowed her eyes, aiming.

                “I hate you!” she shouted and threw the stone at Aedain with all her force, fueled by anger and general frustration.

                She expected the demon to dodge or catch it, given his unnatural reflexes. To her surprise, the stone actually hit him squarely in the back of his head.

                “Damn,” May cursed, panicked. He’d kill her for sure for this.

                Aedain slowly turned around and glared at her. His eyes were expressionless as he started stalking towards her. She glanced nervously to the sides, looking for a possible escape route, but he appeared right in front of her in a heartbeat, using his demonic speed. May yelped, frightened, as her eyes met his intimidating glare. In a desperate attempt to get herself away from him, she pulled herself back, forgetting, that there was the river behind her. Accidentally, she stepped on something slippery and felt herself losing her balance. As she was falling back, she grabbed the first thing she could, to prevent the fall. However, she went down, while clutching Aedain’s black strands, pulling the startled demon along with her.

                “Ouch!” May whimpered, as her body made contact with the stony riverbed. She yelped again, when something heavy crashed into her, pining her to the ground. May lifted her head above the water level and opened her eyes, blinking, as her face was wet once more. At first, she saw only a lot of something black around her. Her body stiffened, as the certain something, which was sprawled atop of her, began shifting.

                “On no,” she whispered, as she realized to whom belonged the black strands that were clinging to her wet skin. More, there was a half-naked man laying on top of her! May’s ears instantly flamed with embarrassment as her heart sped up. She felt like she was about to burn alive there from shame.

                Aedain pulled himself a little up, supporting his weight on his arms and brought his face closer to May’s. She flinched, noticing, that his eyes glowered dangerously. She wanted to apologize, explain herself, but she couldn’t stop her lips from trembling; she was terribly conscious of the red shade upon her face right now. May froze with fear, when she saw Aedain smiling wickedly, showing his teeth. The man was truly terrifying when he was smiling like that.

                “May!” She stiffened and felt the demon doing the same, as they heard Erik’s voice. The boy swam closer to the shore, accompanied by his two new companions – the mermaid girl and her baby brother. Erik was staring with curiosity while the Laismaran girl reacted instantly, covering her sibling’s eyes.

                May’s eyes widened and her face burned from embarrassment when she realized the position, she was in. Apparently, Aedain did as well. The demon abruptly pulled himself to the sitting position, yanking May up and hurriedly got away from her, as though she was poisonous.

                Erik’s eyes were wandering from May to Aedain.

                “What were you two doing?” he questioned, his voice almost too innocent.

                Aedain wasn’t answering for a while. He stood up, still silent. May decided to break the uncomfortable silence.

                “You see, Erik, I tripped and Aedain was helping me… his eyes followed the demon, who was already walking away, although escaping would be a better word to describe his behavior.

                “Sure…” Erik said, a smug face on his face. The boy’s face suddenly lightened when an idea popped into his head. He left his Laismaran companions and got closer to May so that he could whisper into her ear.

                “May, I have a plan,” Erik said quietly. “You could seduce Aedain and…”

                “I can hear that, boy!” Aedain interrupted Erik. The boy yelped, realizing that he forgot the dragons’ excellent hearing.

                “I liked that plan though.” Baltar voiced his opinion. “Aedain, why did you cut in? I wanted to hear the details.”

                Aedain didn’t bother to come up with a verbal retort and simply kicked his companion, sending him at a nearest rock.

                Aedain rested on a stone. The demon huffed, irritated. His wet hair was gluing to his bare skin. He frowned. At least, his armor and the rest of the clothes were dry.

                His eyes followed the idiot woman called May as she left the riverbank, water dripping off her soaked clothing. The demon couldn’t help but notice that her wet sleeveless dress clung to her body. It exposed her tempting shapes, when she climbed on her toes to hang the laundry, she just did. Aedain thought that because of her feisty temper and defiant altitude, he didn’t really realize how small she was. She could be mistaken for a child if not her womanly curves. The demon wondered, how clueless could she possibly be, to wander around in such an improper attire, especially in the company of men.

                Aedain kept observing May roam through traveling bags attached to Meirch’s saddle, searching for something. When she was doing it, the wet strands of her short hair were brushing against her shoulders and drawing Aedain’s attention to her neck, the very same delicate neck he wanted to snap several times. She had a unique talent of making him lose control, never showed him any respect. On the other hand, Aedain not once encountered a woman who had enough courage to speak up to him or throw a rock at him…

                “Looks something caught your eye.”

                Aedain flinched hearing Baltar’s voice. The black-haired demon scowled as his companion casually seated himself beside Aedain. Baltar flashed him an annoyingly satisfied knowing grin.

                “She’s quite pretty,” the bald muscled demon said quietly, apparently taunting Aedain.

                “She is a human, you idiot” the long-haired man retorted angrily.

                “She’s still pretty and you were staring at her.” Baltar didn’t intend to drop the topic.

                Aedain glared at his companion threateningly.

                “Cut your stupidity or I will murder you. And I will enjoy it greatly,” he growled.

                Baltar shrugged his shoulders, amused smile still on his lips. After a while, he went serious as something crossed his mind.

                “Those lizard bastards we met, they mentioned that someone much more powerful is after the Spear. Can’t lie, it bothers me.” The demon’s fingers wandered to his goatee.

                “I never knew you were so easy to scare,” Aedain said with a mocking smile on his lips. “There is only a handful of Laismarans who could match me in strength. If it comes to a fight, I will crush them without a thought.”

                Baltar sighed.

                “You’re probably right. You’re strong, Aedain,” the bald Laismaran warrior admitted. “But there always could be a stronger one.”

The Secret of the Scroll

                May looked around, checking what Aedain and the rest were doing. Baltar seemed to use the opportunity to take a nap, snoring loudly. Meirch calmly devoured leaves from a nearby tree. Erik was building fire while Aedain, thankfully now dressed in his black tunic, was busy as well in the company of the Laismaran children.

                “You will depart at dawn and head east,” Aedain was telling the mermaid girl. “Remember to avoid humans.”

                May glanced at the demon one last time and made her way toward Meirch’s saddle, slowly, so as not to raise any suspicions. Before she had jumped into the water with the demon baby, she had managed to hide the scroll from Lavena’s tower under Meirch’s saddle. May’s forehead was sweating and fingers quivering a bit when she was retrieving a piece of paper from between the saddle and the saddlecloth. She pulled it carefully, afraid to tear the paper. Once she had the scroll in her hand, May hurriedly slid it under her dress.              She stood up and looked at Aedain, who was currently drawing a map on the ground, showing the mermaid children the route. May began walking toward the forest.

                “Where are you going, woman?” May stiffened, hearing Aedain’s voice. She tried to calm herself and not to show that she was almost caught red-handed. She turned around and forced her lips to twist in a light smile.

                “I just wanted to… you know what people do in the bushes.” May tried looking as innocent as ever.

                Aedain was studying her face for a while, before giving her a permission.

                “Do not wander off far,” the demon said dismissive. May gave him a small smile and nodded, before venturing into the forest.

                She got away from the camp as far as possible, but not so much to alert Aedain. Hastily, she took the scroll out and unrolled it. The original was written in Laismaran tongue, so May didn’t even bother to look at it. Her moves impatient, she crouched and straightened the translation scroll on her lap. It was a moment of truth – maybe this piece of paper parchment contained the knowledge necessary to get home, but it was also possible it was useless.

                “Here goes nothing,” May muttered and began reading Lavena’s scroll.

                The first long paragraphs dealt with history of portals. May learnt that they were created by Laismaran sorcerers and used by them to contact Earth’s inhabitants. It seemed that many of Laismarans traveled to the other side and decided to stay there. May furrowed her brows, coming to a conclusion, that all the fantastic legends about monsters like werewolves, Nessie or dragons actually could have been true at some point – those mythical creatures were none other than an alien race from this place. Then May read that the portals were taken over by the gael, the strangers, who came from the sea nine centuries ago. The scroll described the invading humans as a race that had been encountered before in most foreign places called Connacht, Bayern or Pomorze. Fearing that the gateways to another world would bring some unknown danger to Kal Laismarr, the humans destroyed nearly all the portals save two – Baigh Riada and Uaimth Dorchadais.

                “What?” May whispered as she read the name of the place Aedain was searching all along. She doubted that he had a slightest clue that he was looking for an ancient portal.

                May scratched her head, thinking that the name Baigh Riada seemed awfully familiar too. Where did she hear that words? Then it dawned on her – Baigh Riada was the Laismaran term for the Riada Swamp, the place where the witch Lavena lived. Was one of the portals there?

                With more optimism, May began skimming over the scroll. She glanced at a sketch map showing where the portals were located – one was indeed in the Riada Swamp whereas the other one was hidden in the south part of the Bradan Mountains. After the history part and the map, the semi-scientific explanation followed, describing magic that could tear a hold in the fabric of universe and reach out to another dimension through a barrier called the Veil. The descriptions of spells and forces at work were confusing and just as understandable for a layman like May as quantum physics.

                The girl felt overwhelmed by the amount of text she didn’t understand at all, and she felt relieved when she finally got to the part where everything was fairly clear to her.

                “There are two portals left in the world,” May read. The scroll explained that the gateways to the other world could be opened only during short time, according to certain unique astronomical phenomena, like eclipses or arrivals of comets. Uaimth Dorchadais was supposed to open solely on the night when the eclipse of the two moons took place, every century, whereas Baigh Riada could be passed through when a bright-red  star called “The Messenger” appeared in the middle of constellation referred to as the Table. May furrowed her brows, remembering this particular group of stars – the constellation stood out as it consisted of four bright dots in the sky aligned in a perfect square. From what was written on the scroll the Messenger appeared in the night sky every three hundred years.

                May sighed heavily, feeling disheartened by the news – it seemed that Uaimth Dorchadais was her only chance and there were still months left until the eclipse. Such a long period… she shook her head, chasing the nostalgic thoughts of home and her family away. What mattered, was the fact that she had the door to Earth.

                However, the following paragraphs betrayed that the right time wasn’t enough for the portals to open. First, a person familiar with magical arts would have to perform a ritual, weaving all the correct spells and then a gateway needed a Key to open.

                “Key,” May whispered and smiled to herself. She had the Key already – it was safe on Erik’s neck. Her smile grew, as a plan was coming together: she planned on escaping with Erik anyway; she could find that witch Lavena and have her recite the incantations. Even if Lavena didn’t know the ritual, everything was described right there, in the scroll. It was miraculous; thanks to Aedain May obtained all the information and means to travel home.

                The girl rolled the scroll and hid it beneath her dress. Feeling hope fill her heart again, she made her way to the camp, ready to plot her escape in the due time.

                “Took you long enough,” Aedain greeted May with a scowl on his face, but she only smiled apologetically and approached the campfire, where Erik was baking some meat.

                “When you were in the forest, I caught a pig,” the boy boasted.

                May furrowed her brows, looking at Erik’s trophy.

                “Looks like a dog to me,” she said, making the boy pout.

                “It was a wild pig,” he insisted. “It was a small one though.”

                May ruffled Erik’s blonde hair, chuckling.

                “If you say so, snips. You’re an amazing hunter, aren’t you?” she said to the child, making him beam with pride. Erik nodded and straightened his back, before returning to watching the meat bake.

                May was about to talk to Erik some more, but she felt that someone was watching her, and it was a very creepy sensation. She didn’t have to turn around to know that Aedain was glaring at her.

                “You seem to be in a good mood,” Aedain stated the fact.

                May glanced at the demon and shrugged her shoulders.

                “Well, I’ve rested a bit. I suppose it made me less grumpy,” she replied, trying to sound casual. However, Aedain’s wary look began making May feel endangered – the demon was staring at her as though he wanted to read her mind.

                “You are too happy,” Aedain said, making a step toward the girl. “Did something happen in the forest?”

                May gulped, terrified of the demon’s insight. She had no clue that he was paying that much attention to her behavior.

                “Nothing in particular,” May replied a bit too quickly. Trying to be discreet, she wiped her sweating palms in her dress. Gathering all her courage, she looked straight into Aedain’s eyes. “You didn’t sense anyone else in the vicinity, right?”

                Aedain didn’t reply for a moment, studying May’s face.

                “I did not,” he said slowly and began approaching May. “However, you are hiding something from me.”

                “I’m not,” May answered, forcing herself to stand still. If she took a step back, she would land in the campfire, and if she tried to flee it would give her secret away for sure. Despite her all efforts, May’s body shivered slightly when Aedain closed the distance between them. She flinched as the demon grabbed her wrist and pulled it closer to himself, touching her hand with his calloused fingers.

                “Look at that, your palm is sweating,” Aedain said, his voice getting colder.

                May gulped, feeling her knees go soft from fear.

                “It’s just hot,” she said, but Aedain didn’t look convinced. When May yanked her arm, he didn’t let go off her wrist, as though he expected her to try running away.

                “Really?” Aedain muttered. His gaze lingered for a while on May’s green eyes before traveling lower. It stopped on an odd bulge in her dress. May sucked in a breath, realizing that he noticed the scroll. Aedain smirked triumphantly. “Show me what you have hidden there.”

                May clenched her teeth, her knees buckling uncontrollably. She couldn’t let Aedain see the scroll. She couldn’t.

                “Fine,” May said firmly and reached to her cleavage. Once her fingers touched the rustling paper, they ceased to shake. May grabbed the priceless scroll and swiftly pulled it out of its hiding place between her breasts. Aedain smiled smugly, but his grin faded once he saw that instead of handing the scroll to him, May threw it straight into the campfire.

                The flames quickly engulfed the dry paper. Aedain dashed forward and took a hold of the scroll, but when he pulled it out of the fire, it fell to ashes. The demon growled as he glanced at the tiny piece of paper which he salvaged.

                “Uaimth Dorchadais will open when the shadow of Kal Laismarr is cast on the both moons, that are aligned. This happens only…” Aedain read aloud the sole salvaged part of Laismaran original scroll and crushed it in his palm. His hand began trembling. May tried backing away from the demon, but he was still holding her wrist. When Aedain looked at her, her heart stopped. She never saw him looking at her with such an enraged face. He seemed even more angered than in the morning, when he was humans about to murder Laismaran children.

                “You had the scroll about Uaimth Dorchadais,” Aedain said quietly, glaring at May. “You did not show it to me, you lying woman!”

                The girl flinched as she never heard Aedain yell before. She was scared out of her wits, but she decided not to let the demon terrorize her.

                “Of course I didn’t. We’re not exactly friends, you know,” May retorted. She winced when Aedain’s grip on her wrist got stronger. Suddenly, Aedain let go off her forearm and grabbed a handful of her hair, making her look up at his face. He was holding May’s tresses firmly, but not in a painful way. He snatched her shoulder using his other hand, holding her still. May tried to free herself, but Aedain didn’t release her. He pulled her to him and brought his face closer to hers, leaning over her. The startled girl opened her eyes wider and stared at the menacing demon.

                “I think I will kill you earlier than planned,” Aedain hissed out.

 May stopped struggling as her frightened look on her face vanished, when desperation and unexpected courage filled her heart. Not showing any more fear, May looked Aedain in the eye confidently.

                “Fine! Kill the only person who read the scroll and knows where your precious Uaimth Dorchadais is. By all means, go ahead!” she screamed into his face.

The demon froze, expecting May rather to beg for her life. May felt the hold on her hair lessen as Aedain’s fingers flexed. As she expected, Aedain became intrigued. Instantly, he released her from his grip, and curiosity lit his golden eyes. It was obvious that he desired the power of that weapon above everything else.

                “Woman, tell me where Uaimth Dorchadais is,” the demon commanded harshly.

                May hesitated for a moment.

                “Speak, woman,” Aedain hurried her.

                 “My name is May,” May reminded the demon.

                “Woman,” Aedain said, warning in his voice, as he sent May his intimidating glare.

                May looked back at him fearlessly; however, on the inside she felt like pissing herself from fear. If Aedain found out, that she was planning on misleading him…

                “Woman won’t tell you a thing about your precious Uaimth Dorchadais,” she said stubbornly, placing her hands on the hips, trying to appear confident. “However, May could.”

                Aedain apparently wasn’t in the mood to play May’s petty games. Without prior warning, he snatched her neck. He didn’t apply any pressure, but the trembling girl was aware, that he could crush her windpipe every moment. He brought his face closer to hers.

                “If you are smart, you will tell me now,” he said quietly, letting her feel his breath against her cheek.

                “Dulgard, the ruins of Dulgard,” May told him quickly, recalling some random name of an abandoned fortress in Dulheim Dukedom, she read about in one of the books back at Thoen Stronghold.

                “Are you certain?” Aedain asked, furrowing his brows.

                May gulped and nodded eagerly, praying that he’d take his hand off her throat at last. Aedain finally pulled himself from her and released her from his grip. His fingers slid over May’s neck, and his hand rested on her shoulder.

                “Good choice, May,” Aedain said, removing his hand from the girl’s shoulder. “If I find out you lied to me, I will kill you.”

                “I know,” May whispered.

                Aedain sent her one last glance before leaving to consult with his comrade. The commotion woke Baltar up. The massive bald demon smiled with relief.

                “It looks, we have destination now,” he said. “If we shift shape to our original forms we should be there before the sunset.”

                Aedain shook his head.

                “No, we cannot afford to alert every Laismaran and sorcerer in a radius of miles, Baltar. If we changed shapes, we would only attract unwanted attention to Uaimth Dorchadais. We have been careless enough lately.” Aedain said, deep in thought.

                Baltar didn’t look particularly happy with the idea. The demon sighed heavily and laid back on the grass.

                “But it will take three days!” he whined childishly.

                Aedain crossed his arms on his chest and rolled his eyes, annoyed by Baltar’s antics.

                “Who cares? We still have almost a year left until we can open it,” the long-haired demon muttered. Then his attention shifted to May and Erik. “Eat your meal and go to sleep, I want to head out at dawn.”

The Bringer of War

Thoen Stronghold, Farn Dukedom

                Leif from Agnar family was pacing outside the throne room in the Duke’s palace. The young man was nervous, the troubled look reflecting all over his face. It seemed like during the past lunar cycle he aged years. His round boyish face was slimmer, longer and the cheekbones more defined. A fair thin beard was gracing his chin now, making him look more like a man than a boy. Over the last period, his body grew firmer, his shoulders wider.

                The young soldier winced, hearing the commotion behind the closed doors to the throne room. The voices were difficult to make out, but he fished out one word – Maewyn. Leif stiffened at the mention of the Lady. He clenched his fist, holding the emotions in. It was the Duke’s daughter who had triggered the change in him. It was scandalously inappropriate, but the cheerful obstinate girl stole Leif’s heart. And now she was gone, abducted by some ruthless demon. The Duke searched for his child ever since, spreading his military forces thin all over the territory of the Callesmere Empire.

                Leif himself took part in many of those missions, only heading back home to report to the Duke. So far the search was in vain. The hope in the Duke’s heart began faltering, but the young warrior from the Agnar family believed that Maewyn was still out there, suffering and waiting for him to rescue her from the clutches of the demon.

                The young man was so buried in his thoughts that he didn’t notice another person, who showed up waiting for the audience with Duke Thoen.

                “How long they plan to sit in there?” Leif’s head snapped up, when he heard a female voice, firm and confident. The young soldier stared at its owner.

                The woman standing before him flipped her long blonde hair, gaining the looks of the guards and all men waiting for the audience. However, she set her piercing blue eyes on Leif and slowly made her way toward him, seductively swaying her hips. The young warrior blushed instantly; he wanted to avert his gaze, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the woman.

                She was exceptionally tall, her height matching this of men, but she was very feminine at the same time. Slim and possessing a voluptuous body, she made men stare at her. However, she didn’t look bothered by the stares at all, more, she seemed to take pleasure in what effect she had on the males.

                “You are waiting for the audience with the Duke as well, young…” the blonde woman said, coming closer to Leif and casually touching her finger to his chest.

                “Leif, Leif from Agnar family,” the young man coughed out, feeling unbearable hotness overtake his whole body.

                The woman smiled. But Leif noticed that her smile didn’t reach her eyes, that remained like solid-frozen blocks of ice. Suddenly, all the heat escaped the soldier’s body, leaving the alarming sensation of chill in his bones. The young man instinctively took a step back, away from the beautiful stranger’s grasp. He could have sworn that a spark of anger flickered in her blue eyes, but the seductive smile remained unchanged.

                “I will certainly remember that,” she whispered, the smile disappearing from her lips as she stared at Leif with unsettling interest.

                The young man shifted uncomfortably, wishing to get away from the woman as fast as possible. Fortunately, the thick iron door creaked, and the guards opened them. The attention of the beautiful yet the eerie stranger shifted from Leif to the commotion.

                A group of envoys from Karhadon pushed their way through the crowd and hurriedly left the throne room, hostile grimaces on their faces. Leif craned his neck to see what was happening inside the chamber. The people were shouting to each other, absolute chaos reigning in there. Everyone was discussing something with looks of distress on their faces. The Duke himself was sitting still on his stone chair, his back straight and his demeanor troubled.

                “SILENCE!” The resonant voice of general Valgard out shouted the commotion across the throne room. Instantly, all discussions ended.

                The audience proceeded in a stiff atmosphere, the nobles were stating their problems, and the Duke solved them one way or another. However, it didn’t escape Leif’s attention that the Duke’s mind seemed to be elsewhere, far from petty disputes and family feuds.

                Finally came the turn of the woman, who was sending the young soldier shivers down his spine. The announcer cleared his throat and looked at the piece of parchment he was holding.

                “Lady… Nesrin, step forward and face the Duke!” the man called.

                Leif furrowed his brows. Nesrin? He had never heard such a name before.

                The said woman dropped her air of seductiveness and approached the throne while walking with dignity, as though she was at least a Lady if not an Empress. She performed a perfect bow, lowering her head in a gesture of respect.

                “State your matter,” Duke Thoen said, weariness showing in his voice.

                Nesrin nodded.

                “My lord,” she greeted the Duke. “I have come here to inform you of the whereabouts of your daughter, Lady Maewyn.”

                The Duke stiffened, staring at the tall woman, as though she was a ghost. The members of the court gasped in a unison before they began whispering. Nesrin smiled lightly, seeing the commotion she caused.

                “This information originates from a reliable source. She is with a demon named Aedain, who is apparently heading for the sea. I believe if you order your soldiers to move out now, they could easily intercept the demon and your precious daughter at Mam Naois pass,” the woman said, her tone calm. She bowed and took a step back, preparing to leave.

                “Wait, how do you know that?” the Duke demanded harshly.

                Nesrin smiled.

                “It is my trade to know.” The quizzical smile never left her lips when she turned around and simply walked away.

                Neither the Duke nor any of his soldiers stopped her. Even Leif felt reluctant to do so; it was as though something invisible was making his limbs heavy, some paralyzing force spreading through his body. The young man let out a relieved breath once the woman was out of sight something about her was disturbing him.

                “Leif of Agnar family, step forward and face the Duke!” Leif heard the high-pitched voice of the royal announcer call his name.

                The young soldier bowed his head before the ruler of Farn and boldly looked at the Duke. After hearing the news from the woman called Nesrin, Leif decided to change his request.

                “My lord,” Leif’s confident voice rang in the throne room. “I, Leif of the Agnar family, humbly ask for your permission to gather men and ride to the Mam Naois pass.”

                The Duke leaned on the armrest of his stone throne, his face sullen.

                “I decline,” he announced after a while, not being bothered by the young man’s disappointment. Duke Thoen’s gaze lingered a while on Leif; according to general Valgard, this boy was one of the brightest and skilled warriors Farn had despite his young age. Recently promoted to the rank of captain, he already proved his leadership abilities. The ruler of Farn dukedom shifted in his stone chair. “I need you elsewhere, Leif. You will be securing the border with Karhadon. Prepare yourself for departure for you will be heading off right after this audience ends.”

                Leif was staring at the Duke in disbelief. The youth was baffled by the sudden command, after all what could be more important than the heiress? The young man observed with growing confusion that general Valgard began ushering the nobles out of the throne room, leaving only the high-ranking military personnel inside. Leif’s gaze shifted to the Duke once again.

                “My lord, what is happening?” the young man asked.

                The Duke furrowed his brows as he clenched his fingers on the armrests.

                “Farn is at war,” the ruler said, his voice firm, but Leif could discern a hint of anxiety in it. “Karhadon just broke the diplomatic relations and declared war upon us.”

                Leif gasped, his grey eyes wide-opened.

                “War?!” He exclaimed, too startled by the sudden news to pay attention that he was talking to the ruler of his country. “Why would Karhadon declare war upon Farn?! Our dukedoms are the closest allies! That doesn’t make any sense.”

                Leif felt general’s Valgard’s heavy arm on his shoulder, gesturing him to calm down.

                “Duke Royse thinks that Lady Maewyn betrayed Lord Abrran and had her demon lover kill Karhadon’s heir,” the general explained quietly.

                Leifopened his mouth, not believing that someone could come up with such filthy lies.

                “That’s slander,” he whispered, agitated.

                “That enough for Duke Royse to attack Farn,” Duke Thoen interrupted, standing up. The man, who was broken by the loss of his daughter, seemed to be revived as duty called him to protect his people. “Let the war council begin.”

                Outside the mighty Thoen Stronghold, Nesrin was observing the troops of Farn move out toward the Karhadon border, to fight in the war Zhawn started. Her smile grew; she was happy that the plan was getting together so smoothly. Thoen’s love for his daughter would surely prevail, and yet another player would join the game – Dulheim. Once the war spread like a wildfire to the furthest corners of the Callesmere Empire, the humans would stand no chance, their fate would be sealed.

                “The master would be pleased,” she said to herself with an expression of ultimate satisfaction on her face.

                She knitted her blonde eyebrows, focusing and began changing. Her fair locks turned white, the eyes blue like sky became even brighter, the rosy skin lost all its color. Nesrin whirled around, feeling free without her disguise. The frost covered the grass at her feet.

A Ray of Hope

Dulheim

                It was still dark when the sound of sharpening the axe woke May from her sleep. She mentally cursed Baltar for being so loud and tried to get back to her slumber, saving her strength for the day. However, it was hard to sleep with the impending threat of death. The day before she somehow managed to save her life and fool Aedain into a pointless trip. The downside was, she had only three days left until the demon found out that it was a lie. May didn’t have any delusions about what would follow – painful and gruesome death.

                She rolled on her back and stared into the night sky, considering her options. She had to escape and take Erik with her, but so far there hadn’t been a ghost of a chance. It would take a miracle for an opportunity to present itself within the next three days.

                May sighed, looking at the shining dots over her head. The moons were crescent today, so the stars were very good visible. May’s thoughts were wandering around the troublesome topic of escape while her eyes looked at the foreign constellations. She knew some of their names already; she recognized the Monkey Queen, the Pilgrim and the Table.

                The Table.

                May rubbed her eyes and pinched her cheek, making sure that it wasn’t a dream. She would surely wish for something like that to be true. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them after a while, but the strange vision seemed real. The Table constellation was supposed to consist of four stars yet now there were five of them. The odd one shone brighter than the others and it appeared as it was moving very slowly and had a barely visible tail. May realized that the star wasn’t a star at all – it was a comet. In addition, it was a bit reddish, just as the scroll described it. She couldn’t believe her luck. There was no doubt about it – it was the Messenger, the very comet which was appearing every three centuries when the portal in the Riada Swamp could be opened. It looked like it would be in the position in a night or two. It was a one in a lifetime chance to come back home!

                However, the main obstacle was Aedain. The question was how to run away from a person who has senses so acute, that could track you easily no matter where you go? To make the matters worse, it was impossible to outrun him; it’d be like trying to race a jet on a bike. During the past weeks, she observed the demon every day, trying to find his weakness, but so far she didn’t manage to spot any. After all, who could defeat a genuine dragon?

                “May, Erik, you two, get up,” Baltar’s voice woke May from her thoughts. Erik only groaned and kept sleeping, but the Laismaran children awoke without complaining. The mermaid girl, now in a human-like form, stood up and picked up her baby brother.

                Aedain’s eyes snapped open, as though he wasn’t sleeping at all. He nodded to Baltar, before saddling Meirch. When he patted the beast’s side, Meirch neighed and batted his wings enthusiastically. Then Aedain made a gesture to the Laismaran girl to come closer.

                “Meirch will keep you safe,” the demon said, grabbing the little girl and lifting her onto the saddle. She took the reins unsurely, careful not to drop her infant brother. Aedain passed her his cloak, and she draped it around her small frame and the baby, smiling to the demon warrior thankfully.

                “I will never forget what you did for us,” the mermaid girl said as tears began welling into her eyes. Aedain smiled back to the girl.

                “Be strong, child. Meirch will lead you to a man called Fealan. Tell him that Aedain, son of Kaellach, wants him to pay his debt. He will take you under his roof and keep you safe,” the demon said. “Now go.”

                With these words, Aedain patted Meirch and the beast jumped forward, batting its wings. After a few feet of a running start, its clawed paws were already off the ground, and Meirch sailed into the sky.

                “I hope they’ll be okay,” Erik said, yawning. May smiled to the boy.

                “I’m sure they will,” she helped him get on his feet, and they followed Aedain, who already began walking north, toward the ancient ruins of Dulgard.

                The fact that every minute counted didn’t make it easier to think about the escape. Somehow she had to get to witch Lavena, but she still had no clue how to do it. May knew that she would have to devise a flawless escape plan, and she should do it now. She shivered, when she remembered, he promised to kill her, when she would try to run away from him. Hers and Erik’s lives were at stake, so she would have only one chance, what meant she had to be prepared. If she was to get to Lavena’s tower, she had to know the way.

                May bit her lower lip, considering her options. There were only two people she could ask, and she ruled Aedain right away, what was leaving Baltar. She sighed, hoping she wouldn’t raise too many suspicions, before she picked up the speed and joined the muscled bald demon.

                “Hey, Baltar!” May called. She smiled as nicely as she could and thought how she could ask him about the way to Lavena’s place. She began beating around the bush. “I was just curious, how that witch Lavena knew Aedain?”

                Baltar shrugged his shoulders.

                “Everyone knows her.” He shrugged his shoulders, giving May a surprised look, as though she was asking the silliest question possible. “She’s the wisest and oldest of your race, it’s said that she uses her magic to prolong her life. Besides, her grandmother was a renowned Lasimaran sorceress. If I’m right Lavena’s over one hundred and thirty years old, she was by Aedain’s birth, although she was just her mother’s apprentice then.”

                May raised her eyebrow.

                “You’re kidding, right?” she muttered.

                Baltar shook his head.

                “Aedain’s father, the king, insisted that the Lavena’s mother should be by his birth, give her blessings, predict some future, eat free food and stuff like that, nothing special. We had a peace agreement with humans back then,” the bald demon said casually, scratching his goatee. His gaze went distant as he remembered something, blissful smile appearing on his roughly-carved face. “I remember that day well. The witch came with the escort… three lovely red-haired babes, pretty like flowers. Lavena was a little kiddy back then. But there was this girl from the escort…”

                May’s eyelid twitched, as Baltar’s tale began straying more and more from the course she wanted to set; she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear that anymore, but the demon had an uncontrollable urge to share his memories with the girl.

                “I was a brat then and after the hag and the ladies left, I followed them. You know, I was in ‘that’ age,” he said, winking at May, who winced, grimace of horror on her face. Baltar wasn’t discouraged though. “Anyway, all the way until the Swamps was a piece of cake, but then… I barely made out of it alive. It’s a nasty place, the Riada Swamp. No one goes there if they don’t have to, only those sentenced to death. They say that once you step into the Swamp, you’re a dead man. However, not if you know one trick.”

                “What trick?” May asked, holding in her breath.

                Baltar didn’t notice her strange reaction and was continuing, unknowingly to himself giving May very helpful directions. He grinned.

                “Not many know it,” he said in a self-satisfied tone. “But I do. There are paths everywhere in the Riada Swamp, and once you find them you’re safe. There’s a plant growing all around on the trees on the edge of the marshes. It has big red flowers that glow in the dark and don’t like water very much. All you have to do is to walk straight and watch the flower. If it curls into a ball, find another path for you’ll get swallowed by the swamp.”

                “Oh,” May muttered, quite shocked that Baltar had just unknowingly told her how to make it safely through the deadly swamp.

                Aedain glanced at his group over the shoulder. Erik was napping while walking as the woman was bickering with his comrade.

                “Hurry up, you lazy bunch!” he snapped at Baltar and the two hostages who were dawdling in the back. He growled, seeing their surprised faces.

                May rolled her eyes and tried walking faster, while Baltar continued his story.

                “… it took some convincing, and I had to kill this one guy who courted her, but it was a night to remember,” Baltar finished with a dreamy look at his face. “The witch wanted to cut off my…”

                The bald demon paused when Erik’s rumbling belly interrupted the amazing story of his sexual conquests. A split second Later May’s stomach joined the boy’s in a chorus. She pressed her hand to her belly in a hope of calming it down. The feeling of twisting inside was bearable, but burdensome – she ate only one meal the day before.

                “You two okay there?” Baltar asked, worry briefly flickering in his yellow eyes. May smiled to him faintly while Erik hung his head, too weak to answer. The muscular demon sighed and looked ahead. “Aedain! I think the humans need something to eat!”

                “They will have to wait until tomorrow,” Aedain responded, without even glancing at his hostages.

                Tomorrow? May looked at Erik and squeezed his hand. The boy kept stumbling and tripping; she was practically hauling him as the murderous marching took its toll on his frail body.

                “We won’t last till tomorrow,” she said. “Erik is too weak to walk anymore.”

                Hearing about the boy’s condition, Aedain stopped and graced both May and Erik with a brief glance. He scowled, seeing the child sway on his thin legs, and his grimace deepened as his gaze rested on May who had dark circles under her eyes.

                “Weaklings,” he muttered. He crossed his arms on his chest, as though pondering what would be the appropriate course of action.

                Baltar scratched his shiny head and yawned, pointing at the nearby hills.

                “There is some human settlement over there,” he hinted.

                When Aedain looked in the direction, Baltar pointed, he furrowed his brows, a grim expression adorning his face.

                “We have no choice,” he muttered. “Baltar, make sure the boy gets rest. I will get the supplies.”

                Baltar nodded, taking his cloak off. Quickly, he spread the garment on the grass under a bush. Before Erik knew what was going on, the muscular demon snatched him, tearing him apart from May. He placed him on the cloak in an ungentle manner, although tossed would be a better word to describe his action, and wrapped him in the cloak tightly. Erik blinked, surprised, when he was laying like a butterfly’s larva in a cocoon.

                “Now sleep, kid,” Baltar ordered with a satisfied smile plastered across his face. Aedain raised his eyebrow.

                “I think it is your best time so far, Baltar,” Aedain said.

                Baltar petted his goatee and waved with his hand, as though he was abashed by the praise.

                “Only because this kid is way well-mannered than you were at his age,” he responded. “I recall that when I wanted to get you to sleep, I had to knock you out.”

                “Baltar!” Aedain hissed, glaring at his companion and pointing with his eyes at May, who was listening to Baltar’s recollections with a certain dose of interest. “Watch the boy!”

                May walked over to Erik and crouched already, about to seat herself at his side when Aedain grabbed her by the collar of her petticoat and yanked her up. Startled, she looked up at his face, but he didn’t bother to offer her any kind of explanation. Instead, he changed his grip, trapping her wrist in his strong fingers, and started dragging her toward the hills.

                “Hey, let go!” May snatched Aedain’s palm and unsuccessfully tried pushing it off her wrist.

                “The more you struggle, the worse it will get,” the demon said in a casual voice and as a demonstration, he squeezed her hand. May hissed from the pain when her bones felt like cracking and drew a shaky breath.

                “Freaking psychopath,” she muttered and lowered her other hand, giving up on her attempts to free herself from Aedain’s grasp. Just as she did so, the demon’s grip lessened until the way he was holding her wrist could be described almost as gentle. May sighed, feeling defeated, and let him lead her to the settlement behind the hills. Her gaze wandered around her, skimming over the meadows and crops in the distance, and stopped on the sky. She shielded her eyes from the sun with her other hand.

                “Is that a bird?” she asked, observing an animal, which was flying above her.  The creature was as big as a vulture and come to think that was behaving like one as it was circling her and Aedain persistently. It wasn’t waiting for her to drop dead, was it?

                Aedain glanced into the sky as well.

                “I have not seen such an ugly eagle before,” he admitted. “It is bald.”

                May furrowed her brows and stared at the shape below the clouds – to her, it looked a little bigger than a dot. Aedain must have had an insanely good eyesight to discern the details like that. She was about to ponder about the featherless bird more, but a forceful yank brutally brought her back to the reality. She stumbled forward and almost fell down, but another pull put her back on her feet.

                “Walk faster, woman,” Aedain admonished her. His malicious glare only strengthened May’s conviction that he was holding a grudge against her because of that scroll. She gritted her teeth.

                “I can’t,” she hissed – even though she was walking fairly fast for a starved girl with blisters all over her feet, her pace was no match for Aedain’s. “I can’t keep up with you!”

                Suddenly, Aedain ceased hauling her and stopped. May sighed with relief, glad to have a moment to catch a break. However, her joy was premature.

                “Put me down!” she shrieked when Aedain snatched her off the ground and swung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He knocked the wind out of her when her belly collided with the solid surface of his armor, and her forehead banged against his back. “Ouch!”

                May moaned, rubbing her aching head – there would be a bump there for sure.

                Once she caught a breath, she banged on Aedain’s armor.

                “What are you doing?”

The Barrier Stone

                “I’ll stop when you put me down,” May retorted and enjoyed the deep, but not too pretty sound the metal was making. She smirked when she heard Aedain groan from the anger – somehow it eased her own frustration. After all, she should be planning her great escape instead of being dragged along on a shopping trip with her greatest enemy.

                “Fine!” Finally, Aedain gave up. May yelped when she felt the strong hands envelop her waist. The demon effortlessly lowered her onto the ground, as though she was light like a feather. Gracing her with a murderous glare, he grabbed her shoulder and unceremoniously turned her around, so that May would face the right direction.

                Now that she saw something more than Aedain’s back, May could take in the view. The orchards and grasslands were already past them; the human settlement was in plain sight. A shabby-looking fence, which encircled the village, looked like it has been erected centuries ago – the wooden stakes were no longer sharp; some were rotten, other simply missing. The settlement itself was of a size of a small stadium.

                The time of sowing was already past, thus there weren’t many people outside the village – only a couple of youngsters that were leading cows back to the settlement. The boys were staring at May and Aedain with their mouths open agape before they began whispering to each other. From time to time, they were glancing shyly toward her and the demon.

                “Why are they looking at us like that?” May asked quietly. Aedain sent her a long gaze and raised his eyebrow.

                “Perhaps they would not be staring if you were not dressed in underwear,” he suggested, pointing with his finger at May’s petticoat, which served as a dress. When she put her eyes around her defensively, the demon smirked. “Come, woman,”

                “Jerk,” May muttered and followed him toward the village. She was looking around curiously as it was her first contact with humans since Aedain kidnapped her from the Thoen Strongold. She was so enticed in taking in the sight, that she almost missed the strange behavior of her captor.

                As they were nearing the village, the pained grimace on Aedain’s face became more profound, turning from a delicate frown into a full-fledged scowl. Just when he was a foot away from the shabby-looking fence, he stopped abruptly and clutched his head with his both hands. He groaned, as though a powerful migraine hit him.

                “Haign,” he cursed in Laismaran. “I have not expected that they would have a barrier stone in such a small village.”

                May’s gaze wandered between Aedain, who seemed to have a headache of his life, to the plainly looking settlement. She failed to make the connection why he reacted the way he did.

                “What’s wrong?” she asked, but the demon ignored her question. He reached for his armor and fished a packed pouch from underneath it. He weighed it in his hand and tossed it to May. “Go and buy the provisions, woman.”

                The pouch hit May in her belly with such a force that she bent in half, but caught it. Gasping for air, she straightened her back and glanced inside the pouch. Her eyes lit as she found a handful of shining, golden coins there. There was quite a lot of money there. But why was Aedain giving it to her?

                “What are you waiting for? Go!” the demon hurried her, the tone of his voice rude as ever.

                “You’re not going with me?” May asked, finding it strange that all of a sudden Aedain was insisting on her venturing alone into the village when he used to watch her like the hawk.

                “No,” he grunted, expecting May to hike her skirt and run toward the gate. However, she was still standing there, with a questioning look on his face.

                “Why not?” she asked. Aedain looked at her sharply, most probably to come up with another snappy remark, but apparently he realized that it wasn’t the right way to deal with May.

                “I cannot enter the village,” he explained briefly as he was running out of patience. “Now…”

                “Why?” Another question interrupted him in mid sentence.

                May wanted to satisfy her curiosity. However, Aedain didn’t look eager to give her an answer. She furrowed her brows, set on figuring this out. He said he couldn’t enter… come to think of that, it was strange that Aedain couldn’t barge into the Thoen Stronghold – he had to kidnap her from the spot outside the city walls. A little moment ago he said something that the villagers had a barrier stone, whatever it was. May cocked her head as she remembered distantly someone mentioning the barrier stone, Aedain was talking about. Maybe it was Leif… she smirked as she came to the conclusion. “So this barrier stone prevents demons from entering the place they guard, right?”

                Aedain’s snarl ensured her that she was right.

                “Laismarans,” he corrected her. “Quit bickering and get the provisions. And do not dare to betray my plans to the humans. Do it, and I will retract my idea to let you and the Guardian live.”

                May bit her lower lip.

                You’ll kill me anyway after you find out that I lied about the Spear’s location, she thought.

                “I won’t utter a word,” she said out loud. Aedain nodded, suspicion never leaving his golden eyes and waved his hand, gesturing her to hurry up.

                May hummed as she entered the village, a town to be exact. If she had a better knowledge of the Callesmere Empire’s geography, she’d know, that the village was called Tokaley. Thoughts were racing like crazy through her head – she was among people again, and she was free from Aedain. More, neither he nor Baltar could enter here, for the barrier stone, which was apparently somewhere in this village, prevented them from getting nearby. She was safe.

                May stopped, considering her makeshift plan. If she waited it out here, she could stand a chance. Aedain would eventually head off toward the Ruins of Dulheim – she doubted he would pass on the opportunity to get the Spear only to snatch her back. After all, she was virtually useless to him; she was merely tool meant to blackmail Erik with.

                May looked into the blue sky. It was daytime, so the Messenger wasn’t visible yet, but she knew the comet was there. In one or two nights, the doorway home would be opened – she could race to Riada Swamp, where the portal was, and leave all her misfortunes behind.

                However, there was one hole in her brilliant plan – Erik. The boy had the Key, and May knew that without it, the idea of getting through the portal was just a dream. Anyway, she felt reluctant to leave Erik behind. The days of captivity spent together made her feel close to the unlucky boy; she would never forgive herself if she ran away alone.

                “Damn,” May cursed, realizing that an opportunity like this may not appear again, especially that she had two days left until Aedain punished her for the attempt at thwarting his plans. She was forced to go back to the demons and try escape later, this time with Erik and the Key.

                Sighing heavily, May strolled toward the center of the village, as she expected to find a market there and buy some food. She ignored the curious looks and whispers of the farmers when she was walking down the narrow, muddy main street.  The settlement didn’t make the best impression on her – the houses looked like they were in a desperate need of repairing; thin, stray dogs were shambling around.

                Although poor, the village was swarming with life – the peasants were running the errands. A young couple was walking side by side, the young man shyly brushed his fingers against his companion’s hand; both of them blushing violently. A couple of children ran past May, laughing happily.

                May felt a stab of sadness and guilt in her chest, when she took in all life and happiness, that pulsed in the village. The people here seemed to be so happy with their lives, oblivious, that a merciless demon intended to put an end to their joy very soon. After the eclipse, once Aedain obtained the power of the Dragonslayer’s Spear and lead other demons to the great war, the world these people know would crumble. First, men would be summoned to fight and die in the futile attempt to resist the attack. Then, women, children and the elderly will follow – hunger, diseases and enemy would finish Aedain’s plan.

                The worst was, that May could prevent that. All she had to do, was to tell those people of Aedain and the war that was to come. Someone could stop him before the eclipse. However, she knew that he would act on his word and make her and Erik suffer the consequences if she uttered a word.

                Clenching her teeth, she chased the grim thoughts away, and focused on her task – getting food. The market was situated in the middle of the village; the peddlers’ stands were circling a modest statue of the goddess Illiana. The figure of the pregnant goddess probably used to be painted golden, but now nothing remained of its original color – the wood was weathered; the rain and wind smoothed the sculpture so much, that it barely resembled a representation of a person. The pose of Illiana reminded May of the figure in the temple near the Thoen Stronghold, but there was one detail differing the two sculptures. Goddess Illiana from Tokaley had a shining gem of a size of a man’s fist placed where the heart was supposed to be. The stone shone sparkled brightly, but it wasn’t simply reflecting the sunlight – it was glowing, like Erik’s pendant. May had a hunch that the gem was magical. Was it the barrier stone?

                The villagers showed no desire to converse with a girl dressed in a petticoat – May had an impression that the farmers thought she was a prostitute. Not feeling comfortable under the hail of disapproving stares, she purchased some bread and was already on her way back into Aedain’s clutches. As she was heading outside the village’s gate, she felt a dull, persistent pain develop in her abdomen. It wasn’t pleasant, but bearable, so she ignored it.

                Just when she was about to set her foot outside the fence encircling the settlement, she heard a piercing shriek. She saw a young child dart past the gate into the arms of her mother. The little girl had panic in her eyes, her breathing hitched.

                “Karla, what happened?” May heard the child’s mother question her.

                “The demon, the demon is out there!” the child exclaimed in between sobs. May stiffened, hearing this. She stopped, staring at the little girl, comforted by her mother. The kid couldn’t stop trembling. “He wants to get in!”

                May clutched the bag with food tighter.

                Aedain got impatient, she thought. Perhaps she shouldn’t have dawdled so long in the village – he might have assumed that she was planning to escape. Not eager to anger him more today, May gathered her skirt and ran toward the gate. She dashed past scared farmers.

                “Wait, you’ll run into the demon!” she heard the little girl’s mother scream to her, but she ignored the warning and got out of the settlement as fast as possible. Just when she set her foot out of the area protected by the barrier stone, she stumbled upon a very agitated Aedain.

                The demon was wielding both of his swords, and he looked as if he was only waiting for someone to use them on. May brought the bag with bread closer to herself, holding it in front of her like a shield. She expected to receive a malicious glare from Aedain and a nasty rebuke, surely with a topping of a death threat. However, it didn’t happen. As strange as it seemed to May, when he saw her, Aedain’s face softened, the frown disappeared. She could almost swear that she saw relief briefly flickering through his eyes.

                “Are you fine?” he asked, sheathing his swords and encircling her, as though he was checking whether she had all limbs still attached.

                May nodded, staring at the demon and wondering why he seemed so… worried.

                “I got the food. Sorry it took so long, but…” she began, but fell silent when she saw what Aedain was doing.

                The demon closed the distance between them and proceeded with further examination. She gulped and hesitantly looked at him. Damn, his height alone was intimidating. May shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny as Aedain lowered his head. When she heard him sniffing her, she snapped.

                “What the heck are you doing?” she exclaimed, placing her hands on the demon’s chest and pushing him away. However, Aedain didn’t let her off the hook so easily – he snatched both her wrists and pulled them up so that May couldn’t fight him with her hands. She hissed from frustration and tried to wriggle herself out nevertheless. The demon was holding her for a while, but then he released her, a displeased look on his face.

                “I will ask you only once. Who hurt you?” Aedain asked, his voice oddly calm, not betraying a hint of anger or irritation.

                "Eh?" she was baffled. What the hell was he talking about?
                Seeing the May's confusion, the demon rephrased his question.
                "You are wounded. Who did this to you?" he asked again, slowly, as though taking her for an idiot.

                "No one, I'm fine," she replied according to the truth.
                "You are lying. I can smell your blood," he hissed, beginning to glare at her.

                May stared blankly at Aedain, the wheels in her brain turning slowly. Blood? Suddenly, everything became clear to her – it was hard to keep track of dates and weeks here as the flow of time was a bit different than on the Earth, but it had to be it - the slight pain in her abdomen was a dead giveaway. She moved her thighs a bit and cursed mentally when she got that unpleasant slippery feeling.

                Crap, not now.

Fight for Freedom

                May was squirming under Aedain’s scrutiny and struggling to avoid his most unnecessary attention. Unfortunately, the luck wasn’t on her side today – instead of becoming disinterested the demon grew more persistent.

                "Show me your wound," Aedain demanded. That was too much for her – May’s cheeks turned crimson. Why couldn’t he leave her alone? Was he that dense?

                "So embarrassing," she muttered, covering her face with her hands. She tried to turn away from the demon, but he put his arm on her shoulder, holding her in place. She peeked at him from between her fingers and mentally screamed, seeing the focused look in his golden eyes. “Just forget it, okay?”

                Aedain sneered.

                “I do not like the idea of losing my hostage because she bleeds to death,” he said. “Now show that wound. I intend to dress it.”

                He reached with his hand, but May slapped it, taking a step back. As she did so, Aedain quickly closed the distance.

                “It’s alright, it’s not like I’ll die from it,” she laughed sheepishly.

                “From blood loss? I am not a fool, woman,” Aedain hissed out.

                Oh yes, you are, May thought, staring at the demon in disbelief. The situation was… awkward, to say the least. Didn’t he make the connection? Obviously not. It seemed that if she didn’t explain it to Aedain, he would never leave her alone. She took a deep breath, wishing she could stop blushing like an idiot.

                “Aedain, I have a period!” May said as quickly as possible. She sighed with relief when she managed to get her message across and looked at the demon with a hope that now when he knew that, he would stop lingering on the topic. However, May was in for a surprise.

                Aedain furrowed his brows – judging by the baffled expression on his face, he didn’t seem to be enlightened at all.

                “Explain,” he ordered in his high-and-mighty tone, making May want to slap herself in the face from dismay.

                All she wanted was to walk toward the cozy-looking bushes over there and handle the unforeseen situation, not to explain such embarrassing issues to Aedain, of all people.  Maybe they didn’t use the word “period” in the Callesmere Empire.

                “Look, I’m talking about the time that comes once a month…” May paused, thinking how exactly long were the months here, and frankly, she had no idea. “Well, regularly. But it doesn’t matter. What matters, is that I have it now, and I need to go to the bushes…”

                “Not before I know what is transpiring here,” Aedain interrupted her.

                May stared at him, encountering his serious, unyielding glare. Wasn’t she specific enough? Even an idiot should get it by now.

                He has no clue, she came to the conclusion. Holy crap, the guy is like hundred years old and still doesn’t know a thing about it.

                “Umm… you see… women bleed every so often. It's absolutely normal,” she explain hurriedly.

                Aedain cocked his head, disbelief all over his face – he looked as though she tried to convince him that Santa does exist.

                “I have never heard a more foolish thing,” he replied.

                “Maybe it’s a human thing?” May suggested. Aedain arched his eyebrow.

                “Perhaps,” he muttered. “Where do you bleed from?”

                May stiffened as he asked his question. She looked sideways; it was hard to look him in the eye now, as the level of awkwardness rose to a ridiculous rate.

                "… you know… that place…" she uttered, her face glowing red. She peeked at Aedain and felt a barely controllable urge to scream from frustration, when she saw the lack of understanding on his stoic face. She took a deep breath. “It’s between my legs.”        

                For a while that seemed like eternity, the both of them were standing in silence. Aedain stopped staring instantly. He broke eye contact and set his gaze somewhere on the village’s fence. It was obvious that he was struggling to maintain his poker face as his mimic muscles were twitching slightly.

                “I’ll be going to the bushes over there,” May said quietly.

                “Go,” Aedain replied in an equally timid voice.

                Neither of them noticed a huge balding eagle which circled them one last time and seared toward the horizon.

                Aedain was surprisingly well-behaved, when he and May were on their way back to Baltar. Not only did he not make a move to haul her by her wrist or arm, he also kept a considerable distance between them. In fact, it seemed that he was hesitant to approach May now. However, it didn’t escape her attention that he kept glancing her way. He was doing it discreetly, but it started getting on May’s nerves when they reached the top of the hills.

                “Can I help you with something?” she asked sarcastically.

                As soon as she talked to him, Aedain snarled, but the nasty grimace on his face made May only to roll her eyes.

                “I can’t believe you didn’t know about a period,” she commented and smirked, seeing that the topic clearly made the demon uncomfortable – he looked away; his sneer vanished. Serves him right, May thought. After all, why should she be the only one to feel embarrassed?

                She reached for her bag to get the loaf of bread and tore it in half. She was munching it while looking around. Her gaze stopped for a while on the sun, then wandered toward the road in the distance – it looked like it was leading south from the village. May added the image to the mental map she was creating. Even though it wasn’t her strength, she tried her best to know where she was, just in case she would have an opportunity to escape.

                She took another bite of bread when she felt the disturbing sensation once again – the damn demon was staring at her again. She turned her head as quick as possible, but Aedain managed to assume his poker face already, pretending he didn’t glance at her at all. May furrowed her brows.

                “Why do you keep looking at me?” she asked. Aedain didn’t grace her with a single gaze.

                “My father told me never to trust a creature that bleeds and does not die,” he said and quickened his pace. May sighed heavily. Well, he summed up women nicely.

                She stuffed the rest of the bread into her mouth and jogged after Aedain. Baltar was already in sight, sitting near Erik, who was wrapped in his cloak like in an overly tight sleeping bag. The bald demon smiled and greeted his superior with a casual wave. When he stood up and took a few steps toward Aedain and May, Erik made use of the opportunity. The boy wriggled himself out of the makeshift cocoon.

                “Sure you two took your sweet time…” Baltar called out. Suddenly, the bald demon paused, furrowing his thick brows and looking around. He stared at Aedain.

                “You feel that?” Baltar asked in his raspy voice.

                Aedain stopped and nodded.

                “Quite a lot of power,” the bald demon stated, readjusting his armor like he was readying himself for a battle. “I didn’t feel anything like that since... only your father and Zhawn possessed that strong presence.”

                The long-haired man didn’t answer right away, a focused look on his face.

                “Damn it,” Aedain cursed. He clenched his teeth when air shimmered around him. His limbs increased their length. Skin and armor turned to crimson scales as he assumed a form of a fearsome dragon.

                “Don’t do anything that could draw attention to the boy or to our destination, Baltar,” Aedain commanded. “I will mislead them.”

                The long-haired demon stretched out his wings and waved with them energetically, jumping into air.

                May was staring after Aedain until the winged beast became a tiny dark dot against the sky and then vanished completely in the clouds. She felt the spark of hope in her heat grow a bit; for the first time  the terrifying demon left her and Erik. This might be the best chance ever to escape, a chance which wouldn’t happen again. A comet which appeared once in three hundred years, a mysterious opponent that conveniently drew Aedain’s attention away from her… Such a big amount of luck was surely a gift from heavens. But there was one problem left. May glanced sideways at Baltar. His massive frame radiated with raw strength; he wasn’t a bad companion, but the girl had no delusions – if he caught her red-handed on escape, he’d just snap her neck with one hand.

                Think, May told herself. The drops of sweat began forming on her forehead as she was painfully conscious how precious every passing minute was. She set her gaze on Baltar, assessing his strong and weak points: he was one hell of a fighter, but was rather dumb. That was the weakness she had to exploit.

                “Hey, Baltar,” May spoke, trying to sound worried. “Do you think Aedain can take this very strong person on alone? I mean… it’s probably risky. Shouldn’t you help him?”

                Baltar growled, the veins at his temples pulsing as though the girl had just pulled some string in him. He was clenching and flexing his fingers, eager to take a hold of his axe.

                “Aedain told me to stay,” the bald demon said through the clenched teeth. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Baltar would sell his own mother for the opportunity to take part in this fight alongside Aedain and May was intent on sending him there.

                She cleared her throat.

                “I was just wondering… what will happen to you if Aedain dies?” May asked innocently.

                Baltar closed his eyes.

                “Well, I’m a royal guard, and I’m supposed to watch his back… damn, if that reckless son of a bitch gets himself killed, I’ll be shamed forever,” Baltar said with horror reflecting on his face.

                “And how are you supposed to watch his back if you’re not even there?” May asked in a scolding tone, resting her hands on her hips. “Aedain might be dying out there right now. You've got to help him! Only you can do it!”

                Baltar gasped.

                “You think so?” he muttered, looking straight at May. “But he told me…”

                “We’ll be fine!” May interrupted him and gave the bald demon a reassuring smile. “Nothing bad will happen if you leave us for an hour or two. Go help Aedain!”

                May couldn’t believe her eyes, when she saw Baltar nodding energetically as he grabbed his battle axe. He gave his weapon a swing and smiled wildly when his already big body grew into a form of a huge dragon. He batted his wings a few times and leapt into the air.

                Both May and Erik were waving at him until he was finally out of sight. Once left alone, the boy looked up at the girl.

                “Baltar is really stupid, isn’t he?” Erik asked rhetorically.

                “Yup,” May responded. “More than I thought.”

                May took a deep breath and looked at the nearby fields; there was a human settlement not far away, the buildings were visible in distance. She grabbed Erik’s hand.

                “Erik, we’re running away,” May stated firmly, dragging the child after her. “I’ll take you somewhere safe, to a place where Aedain won’t get you.”

                Erik nodded.

                “I trust you,” he said quietly with a faint smile.

                That simple sentence made May’s determination double – the escape had to work out, not for herself but for Erik. This child deserved to live in safety and happiness.

                “Let’s hurry,” May breathed out – every minute was precious, as Aedain and Baltar could come back any moment.

                She and Erik ran through the fields to the village. The jog was long, but they haven’t slowed down even for a moment. The settlement looked poor with skinny people and nearly ruined shacks. May’s legs began to hurt as she dashed along the dusty street, heading toward the wealthiest-looking house. When she made to its fence, Erik slid to the ground panting.

                “A horse!” May managed to utter between fighting to catch a breath. “I need a horse!”

                A man, who was sitting in front of the house, stared at her, as though she was an alien. He tilted his head, not hurrying to go and get the damn steed. May narrowed her eyes, pissed off by his sloppiness. She reached for the pouch hidden beneath her dress and got five golden coins, what should be enough to buy a whole herd of horses.

                “I’ll pay this much, just get me your fastest horse NOW!” she shouted to the man, who immediately sprang to his legs, woken by the sight of money and May’s scream.

                The girl didn’t have to wait long until she got her horse; the animal was a farmer’s horse, but it should be faster than walking on feet. Without delay, May helped Erik get onto the saddle and climbed herself up, seating herself in front of the child. She clutched the reins firmly.

                “Which way to the Riada Swamp?” she demanded.

                The farmer horse’s owner made a shocked face, but pointed southwards. Before May left, the farmer shoved a sheathed knife in her hand.

                “You may need it, child,” the man said.

                May didn’t even bother to thank him, she only nodded. She kicked the horse’s sides forcefully and the animal neighed, leaping forward, speeding to the gallop.

The War Council

Thoen Stronghold, Farn

                Leif rubbed his eyes discreetly, not wanting to show his tiredness in front of the other members of the war council. The meeting of Duke Thoen and his high-ranking officers was still in progress, even though the sun was about to rise – all night spent on plotting military strategies, considering options for truces and counting the food supplies took its toll on everyone. The only ones who remained capable of thinking were Duke Thoen, his right-hand general Valgard and general Soren, the man who had spent the last decade in Karhadon on a joined mission to guard the northern border.

                “My spies say Royse builds ships, a lot of them,” general Soren said, tracing his fingers over his red, neatly trimmed beard. “They don’t look like battle ships though. According to my sources, the boats have place for cargo or people, but barely for battle stations.”

                Duke Thoen furrowed his brows and grabbed his cup. Before answering, he chugged down all the water.

                “It’s strange Royse would waste resources like that. Farn doesn’t even border with the sea, to attack us, he’d have to cross Sigarda. I doubt Duke Erwyn would allow this. Valgard, what about Dulheim?”

                General Valgard straightened his back, stretching his old limbs, and looked at the huge map which covered the table.

                “So far Dulgard chooses to stay neutral, but they won’t allow any military forces on their territory. Whoever sets foot in their dukedom, will have to face the consequences,” Valgard explained.

                Leif shifted in his chair uneasily, knowing what consequences the Duke’s right hand was talking about. The northern dukedom, Dulgard, was known for its military. With the Digerholm Mountains as a hiding place of numerous demons, the Dulgard warriors had the most practice in fierce battles even at times of peace with the neighboring dukedoms. If Dulgard decided to attack either Farn or Karhadon, both would be wiped out of existence.

                However, there was a good reason for risking the conflict with Dulheim and Leif was about to remind of it.

                “Duke,” Leif spoke up. “What about Lady Maewyn? If that Nesrin woman spoke the truth, your daughter will be on Mam Naois Pass soon. It could be the only chance we have, to get her back.”

                Thoen’s face expression darkened, and the lively glint in his eyes died when he heard the name of his child being mentioned.

                “If I send the troops to Mam Naois, the war will be lost before it even began. Dulgard will reinforce Karhadon and Farn will be attacked from two of our borders with a force we have no chance to withstand,” Duke Thoen said, his voice monotone, as though he wanted to get rid of the emotions that wanted to take over the rational thinking. “If I choose to save Maewyn, I’ll sentence many more Farnian children to death. As a Duke, I have responsibility to my people, and it should stand above my own desires. Maewyn’s fate is in Illiana’s hands now.”

                Grim silence fell after the Duke’s words. General Soren nodded, understanding the situation. Valgard sighed deeply, pitying the girl he knew since she was born, but Leif didn’t accept Thoen’s decision that easily. Young captain clenched his fists under the table so forcefully that they became white. He, Leif, couldn’t just leave Maewyn, not when there was a ghost of a chance to free her.

                “That woman Nesrin probably wanted to maneuver us into marching on Mam Naois to trigger Dulgard’s response,” Valgard said, deep in thought as he scratched his wrinkled forehead. “Royse is smart. He won’t risk having Dulgard as an enemy either. That means he will have to attack Farn straight from the border with Karhadon.”

                Leif narrowed his eyes; his gaze focused on the section of the mountains building the border between the two dukedoms.

                “I have an idea, please hear me out,” the young captain suddenly spoke up. He stood up and put his finger on the very spot he was observing a moment ago. “What would Karhadon’s Duke do if we sent most of Farn’s forces straight at their border, heading toward the capital?”

                Duke Thoen tilted his head and general Valgard scowled, apparently not liking the question.

                “Most likely Royse would send the whole Karhadon’s military to meet us in battle. But that’s what we’re trying to avoid – it’s impossible to predict who would win; our forces are more or less equal. Besides, even if we win, the losses would be unimaginable. It would take a century for the population to return to previous numbers.”

                Leif smiled.

                “I know, but that’s the part of my plan,” the young captain said. “Royse’s soldiers will leave the capital unguarded. While they would be marching to meet our forces at the border, a few highly trained units could take the mountain path northwards and sneak onto Karhadon’s territory undetected, not risking crossing the lands of Dulheim.”

                Leif looked at the three elder men expectantly. The Duke and the two generals were staring at him blankly, but then smiles bloomed on their faces.

                “That could actually work,” Soren stated and bent over the map. “If we manage to lure Karhadonians away from Orvik far enough, the mountain unit could seize it without that much trouble.”

                General Valgard grunted, making Soren move away from the map.

                “Once we take control over the capital, the Royse’s troops won’t stand a chance when flanked from both sides,” Valgard’s grin was growing. The elderly general stood up and forcefully patted Leif on his back, making the young soldier bang his forehead against the table. “Good job, boy. It’s a fine strategy!”

                Duke Thoen smiled lightly.

                “You brought honor to family Agnar, Leif,” he praised the young soldier before turning to his generals. “Valgard, mobilize every soldier you can. I want the main army to be as big and intimidating as possible. Soren, choose the best of best – you will lead the mountain division and strike on Orvik. We attack as soon as possible. The council meeting is over.”

                The generals saluted and jumped on their feet with sudden surge energy. Duke Thoen nodded, his face gravely serious. Nevertheless, a light smile appeared on his lips when he looked at the newly discovered strategist.

                “Leif, you’ll be Soren’s second in command,” the Duke announced.

Race to the Riada Swamp

Dulgard

                May and Erik rode for three hours without a break. The difficulties of the murderous journey proved to be too much for the farmer’s horse – the poor animal wasn’t used to the constant gallop and was already worn out, stumbling all the time. Erik was desperately clutching the back of May’s robe, but she could feel the child’s grip get weaker.

                When they were passing by a larger town, May took the chance to purchase a better horse and ask for the directions. The people seemed to be surprised that someone willingly traveled to the Riada Swamp, but answered her questions, nevertheless; it turned out that she didn’t cover one-fourth of the distance yet. May didn’t even want to know what would happen if Aedain caught them.

                “May!” Erik shrieked all of a sudden as a large bird landed on the saddle of the new steed.

                The horse neighed and tried to shake the intruder off, but the bird kept sitting calmly.

                “Shoo!” May shouted, waving with her hand to scare the animal off, but it didn’t move.

                Instead, the large bird let out a miserable squeak and lifted the clawed paw, showing the leather pouch, that was tied to it.

                “Eh?” May mumbled, confused.

                What was with that bird? Hesitantly, she reached for the pouch and untied it. The balding eagle didn’t move; it patiently waited for May to finish. She took a look inside the pouch and retrieved two objects – a folded piece of paper and some plant.

                Hurriedly, she unfolded the piece of paper. The letters were crooked and uneven, as though someone was writing in a hurry, not bothering to waste time on calligraphy. Not without difficulty May managed to decipher the brief letter. The writing seemed strangely familiar, as though she had seen it before.

I know who you are, traveler. Don’t be afraid – I’ll return you to your home world.

Feed the eagle with the herb from the pouch so that you could swiftly fly to my tower. Do not take anything with you, as my familiar can’t carry more weight than of a single person.

Hurry.

Lavena of the Riada Swamp

                May gasped for air, as she didn’t even realize that she was holding her breath all the time when she was reading the letter. She couldn’t believe her luck – she wasn’t alone on this one; the witch was on her side! She had absolutely no idea why, but it was enough for her that Lavena wanted to return her home. It explained half of the lucky coincidences. Not only had the opportunity to escape presented itself, but also a chance to get home, to her parents and Hailey… the unexpected help was like a blessing from heavens, but there was one problem left.

                She looked at the nearly featherless eagle, as she fed it the herbs. The bird skipped out of the saddle, squeaked miserably and began growing, not much though – it was of a size of a really big dog, but there was still a long way to Aedain’s original form of a dragon. According to Lavena’s letter, the eagle couldn’t carry more than one person.

                “Erik,” May said to the child. “Get on that bird.”

                The child stared at her blankly, as though not understanding what she meant.

                “May?” Erik asked unsurely.

                May kneeled by the little boy and grabbed his shoulders, looking him in the eye seriously.

                “Listen to me,” she said sternly. “We can’t fly both on that bird, so we have to part for a while.”

                “But,” Erik began, but Mai shushed him.

                “I’ll ride on the horse right behind you. Now, listen. The bird will take you to Lavena, the good witch, who’ll help us. When you get to see her, tell her that I’m coming and that Aedain will be following us. Do you understand?” May looked at Erik expectedly.

                The child bit his lower lip, hesitating to answer, but then nodded, tears welling in his honey-colored eyes. May smiled encouragingly.

                “Good, now get on that ugly thing.”

                Erik’s eyes were damp, as the eagle took off, leaving May behind. She did her best to keep her brave façade in front of the boy, but the truth was, she was scared out of her wits. She was sure, that Aedain and Baltar would get her sometime soon, possibly very soon. But it was a risk she had to take.

                May climbed onto the brand-new  steed and galloped out of the town after the eagle, which quickly vanished into the clouds.

                May kept forcing the horse to keep up the murderous pace. The rush of the air made her eyes teary, but she kept them open to follow the road, afraid to get lost and waste precious time. Her ultimate goal - to get home – was at reach of her hand, and she didn’t want to lose the once in a lifetime chance. She kicked the animal again, not letting it slow down. She had to get to the witch Lavena before Aedain got to her.

                She felt more and more drops of water falling on her. As she looked up, she saw, that the sky was covered with thick rain clouds. Then the downpour came, soaking May to the bone. Her hair was plastered to the face, and she barely saw where she was going. The horse’s steps were unsure now, as it was sliding on the slippery mud. She cursed, but was determined to move forward. She tried to think about the rain more of an ally than an enemy. It made the ride more difficult, but it also washed her tracks and scent away, what would hinder the chase.

                She managed to gallop for a couple of hours more in the heavy rain. How many, May didn’t know, as she didn’t see the sun. The horse grew weary, but still galloped, rushed by her. The animal’s hooves were splashing mud. She wiped the water from her eyes the best she could and saw the bridge, one of the townspeople told her about. She estimated that she had already covered two-thirds of the distance to the Riada Swamp now; quite a good pace, considering the weather conditions.

                She kicked the horse’s sides again to make it go faster. The animal tried to speed up, but suddenly stumbled. May swayed in the saddle, but gripped the mane and held herself on with her thighs. However, the animal didn’t manage to regain balance. It neighed and fell on the side, crushing May’s leg. She struggled with the horse to free her limb. Thankfully, she did it after a while, mainly thanks to the slippery mud. She was now covered in mud from heads to toes. She stood up and tried to encourage the horse to get up. Something was wrong. The animal was thrashing and neighing without a break, but wouldn’t get up. Then, she noticed, that one of the horse’s legs was twisted at a strange angle, white bone protruding from the skin. May cursed, as she realized the horse had a broken leg. She felt pity for the pained animal and decided on the act of mercy – she owed that to the animal, which carried her all the way here.

                She reached inside her dress and pulled out a knife the farmer gave her. She kneeled by the horse’s head and unsheathed the blade. She pointed it towards the bottom of the jaw. May’s hands were trembling and a sob shook her body. She knew that if she left here, the poor animal with suffer in agony for hours before slow death and ending his life was a right thing to do, but still… May clenched her teeth and steadied her hands.

                “I’m sorry,” she muttered, before thrusting with all of the might she had.

                The animal squeaked and trashed more, but stilled, as the knife pierced its brain. May pulled the blade out and wiped it with her dress, as her tears mixed with the rain on her face. Being not able to afford to waste time, she stood up, sheathing her knife and sliding it under her sash.

In the vicinity of the ruins of Dulgard, Dulheinm Dukedom

                Aedain roared from fury, as the mysterious scent vanished once again. He sharply looked sideways, but the adversary was nowhere to be seen. It appeared as though he had been chasing shadows for past few hours. If not the fact that Baltar sensed some powerful presence before too, Aedain would begin to doubt if the mysterious opponent was never there to begin with.

                “There!” the dragon muttered, when the odd presence appeared again, materializing in clouds barely meters from him. Aedain squinted his eyes, trying to discern the shape of his opponent, but it was strangely blurry. He cursed in his mind and began waving his wings faster. Aedain leapt forward, but the ethereal shape gracefully eluded capture, vanishing into the thin air again.

                The Laismaran began shaking with frustration; rarely did he encounter such an evasive opponent. Who was the creature?

                “That’s it,” he hissed out, swishing his tail.

                One powerful bat with his wings and the majestic dragon darted back into the clouds, moving with a surprising speed for such a massive creature. Aedain waited for his opponent to show; the next time the presence appears, he would simply fry it.

                The dragon was lingering in the air for some time until he finally felt someone approaching. He turned in the air gracefully and charged, the clouds obscuring his view. He opened his teeth-filled jaws, about to spit fire at the opponent…

                Aedain barely managed to change the trajectory of the fireball when he saw the shape emerging from behind the clouds – it was a dragon with gray scales, which he recognized as his idiotic comrade Baltar. What was he even doing here?

                The crimson dragon didn’t have the chance to inquire further as the elusive adversary from before appeared right next to both comrades. Not waiting for it to escape again, Aedain leapt onto it. The unrecognizable shape changed the direction of movement, but Baltar cut out its escape route as though reading Aedain’s mind. Using the moment when the creature was distracted, the crimson dragon slashed it with his talon. However, he felt nothing: no resistance of the living tissue, the shape dissolved like it was a ghost. An illusion. Aedain realized that it must have been an illusion, which was supposed to draw his attention away from his goal and stall.

                The crimson beast doved toward the ground; the blood in his veins felt like liquid fire. Baltar followed his superior, and the both dragons glided toward the rocky ground.

                Aedain stared his comrade down.

                “I thought I told you to stay with the wretched woman and the boy,” he said strangely calmly.

                Baltar set his gaze on his paws like a naughty child caught head-handed by his mother. He scratched the rocky ground.

                “I… I just thought… I thought you may need my help with the fight,” the huge gray dragon uttered in an oddly coy voice for him.

                Aedain narrowed his eyes at his companion, not saying anything for a longer while, his face blank.

                “Was it your own thought or that damnable woman thought it out for you?” he asked rhetorically. Baltar’s sheepish laughter only confirmed his suspicions. Aedain stared at the other dragon indifferently, too exhausted by his stupidity to even get furious. “Congratulations, you miserable excuse of a dragon, you just got fooled by a human woman who got away with my Key and my Guardian.”

                Baltar didn’t answer, too ashamed to utter a word. He gasped, when his superior jumped into the air.

                “Wait, where…” the gray dragon began.

                “To hunt that plotting woman down,” Aedain interrupted him; the crimson beast let out a displeased growl and set off, leaving Baltar far behind.

Lavena’s Motive

Riada Swamp

                Erik squeezed his eyes shut when the balding eagle suddenly dove, landing. However, falling would be a far better word to describe the creature’s maneuver – batting his almost featherless wings frantically, the bird struggled not to crash. Erik lifted an eyelid, but almost immediately regretted it as he saw that the eagle was aiming at a small window in the witch’s tower.

                Sweet Illiana, help me, the boy prayed, hoping that this moment wouldn’t be his last. His knee brushed against a window frame when the bird flew into the window. Erik opened his eyes, relieved; the landing was safe, but his joy was premature.

                “No,” the boy managed to whimper just before the eagle slammed against the wall opposite to the window. Erik shrieked when he felt the impact softened by the bird’s body, and afterwards landed on the floor. Rubbing his aching backside, he pulled himself up.

                “You are not the traveler.” Erik spun around, hearing a female voice. He took a step back, staring at a tall elderly woman, presumably the owner of the tower. The witch was glaring at him with her sharp gray eyes, a displeased grimace on her wrinkled face. Erik thought that she was on his and May’s side, but now he wasn’t so sure anymore. The sorceress furrowed her brows. “Where is the girl, who traveled with you?”

                Erik swallowed a lump in his throat.

                “You mean May?” he asked, his voice shaking and unsure. “She… she’ll come later.”

                The witch snorted humorlessly and covered her eyes with her palm in a gesture of dismay. She leaned heavily against a chest of drawers, sighing.

                “I was so foolish to think she would come willingly,” she muttered.

                Erik shifted the weight of his body to the other foot. He was aware that with every passing moment, May’s life was in greater danger. It wouldn’t be long until Aedain caught up with her. She had orchestrated their escape, and she even sacrificed her own sake for Erik’s life – now it was his turn to help his friend out.

                With a sudden surge of determination, the boy stepped forward, clenching his small fists.

                “You wanted to help us escape Aedain, didn’t you? That’s why you sent that ugly bird,” he said, overcoming his fear of the witch’s magic and coming closer to her. “Then help May, please. She had to stay behind, because she wanted me to be safe. Help her! Please, she’s my friend!”

                The witch’s gray eyes widened when Erik clutched her sleeve and refused to let go of it. He set his pleading gaze on her, desperate to get help for May.

                “Please! If Aedain catches May, he’ll kill her for sure!” the boy exclaimed as the tears streamed down his cheeks.

                Lavena broke the eye contact and tugged her sleeve, but Erik was holding the fabric firmly.

                “I doubt Prince Aedain would kill someone as precious as her,” the witch replied. “After all, she’s the traveler. Her life and the secrets she knows hold too much value.”

                Erik blinked, surprise and confusion reflecting in his honey-colored eyes.

                “What are you talking about?” he asked the witch, dropping all the informalities and forgetting about being polite. “Aedain only keeps her alive to blackmail me; without me around, she’ll become useless to him.”

                Now it was Lavena’s turn to stare at Erik blankly. She tilted her head, the gaze of her hawk-like eyes boring into the boy.

                “I thought Prince Aedain kidnapped her to learn the secrets of the world beyond the Veil,” the witch whispered.

                Erik furrowed his brows – he had absolutely no clue what she was talking about. What possibly could link May to the world beyond the Veil. Erik distantly remembered his mother’s tales about this place and grandfather’s stories. According to them, it was a dark, mythical land, full of unimaginable dangers and numerous foes. His mother used to say that if he were a bad boy, he would be sent there.

                “The world beyond the Veil?” he asked. “That’s a fairly tale, right?”

                Lavena was staring at him for a longer while, as though trying to read his mind. With each passing moment, the frown on her face deepened.

                “The prince knows nothing about the girl’s origin then?” the witch made sure.

                “Of course he knows that May is Duke Thoen’s daughter,” Erik responded.

                “But what…” Lavena was about to ask another question, but it seemed that she changed her mind. “Why did Prince Aedain kidnap her?”

                Erik let go off the witch’s sleeve.

                “I told you already – to blackmail me with her life. Because she’s my friend,” the boy said. “And I promised to help him in return for not hurting her.”

                As Lavena was considering Erik’s words, the wrinkles on her forehead were deepening. She bit on her lower lip and looked outside the window, at the lush fields on the edge of the forest.

                “I see,” she said quietly, a quizzical expression on her face. Then, she looked at Erik again. “What help did prince Aedain require of you, young one?”

                Erik didn’t break the eye contact.

                “He wanted me to help him find the Dragonslayer’s Spear,” he answered and reached for the golden chain of his sapphire pendant, which was hidden underneath his tunic. Erik lifted the chain so that the gem would sparkle in the light seeping through the window. An eerie fire lit within the sapphire, reflecting in Lavena’s eyes.

                The witch gasped, recognizing the gem.

                “The Key,” she whispered. With difficulty, she tore her gaze off the alluring sapphire and focused it on Erik. “And you are the new Guardian, the child, who survived the massacre.”

                Erik nodded and hid his sapphire necklace underneath the old tunic. He observed Lavena’s troubled face – a wide range of emotions passed through it, from surprise to bewilderment. The elderly woman dashed to the window and set her gaze at the horizon, as though expecting someone to invade the peaceful heart of the Riada Swamp. Then, she whirled around and hastily stepped toward the exit from the chamber. The wooden door hit the wall, when Lavena swung it open forcefully. Before Erik could react, the witch grabbed his hand and dragged him outside.

                “We don’t have time to waste, boy,” Lavena said to him as she was leading him down the spiral staircase. “I need your help with the spell.”

                “What spell? What do you want to do?” Erik kept asking, but the witch didn’t answer him till they climbed down to the cellar underneath the tower.

                “Your friend will point Prince Aedain right in this direction, and I can’t have him get neither the girl nor the Spear,” Lavena answered. “I was planning on stealing her from him and perhaps hiding her somewhere, far from the people who would want to use her knowledge, but it looks like I’d be forced to send her back from where she came.”

                Erik stumbled when Lavena let go off his hand. He squinted his eyes as the witch lit the candles with a flick of her thin finger. The warm glint of the fire illuminated the spacious chamber filled with numerous chests, books and a huge variety of magical items. However, neither of the objects caught Erik’s interest – the boy was entirely focused on the frantic witch and the strange things she was saying.

                “Lady, what do you mean by sending May back from where she came?”

                Lavena didn’t answer Erik. The boy was watching her bustling around the chamber, gathering some supplies, probably needed for weaving the spell. He closed his palm on the sapphire necklace, feeling overwhelmed by the nerve-wracking situation and the mystery of his friend. Could May hide a secret of her own?

                “Who is May? Please, tell me!” he exclaimed.

To the Tower

Riada Swamp

                May stumbled and fell to her knees into the mud, not having any strength left. The red flower, she found on the edge of the forest began glowing in the dark, its flakes spread wide, which meant she was on the right way. She clenched her teeth and got up, following the path through the marshes.

                The rain was stopping, and she saw the glimpse of the setting sun. She was almost sure that she was on the right way, and most of the distance was already covered. When she was about to give up, she reminded herself that she passed the point of no return – now she could only go forward. With all the willpower, she forced her body to move ahead, her knees trembling from exhaustion. Slowly, she made her way down the path, step by step, but forward.

                It took a lot of effort, not to stray from the path in the night. The forest was dark; the light of moon and stars couldn’t penetrate the shadow cast by the trees. The treacherous Riada Swamp wanted to devour her, and she got almost sucked in a couple of times, but the glowing red flower was showing her the safe path.  From time to time, she heard rustling and all kinds of noises made by animals. Every time, she flinched, thinking it was Aedain, who would want to murder her. And that will probably happen, if I don’t get to Lavena soon, she thought, speeding up despite her sore legs.

                “Dad, mom, Hailey, I will get out of this alive,” she muttered, encouraging herself. With a newfound determination, she marched to her destination.

                Aedain was circling over the forest, covering nearly the entire Riada Swamp. He was in very bad mood. First he wasted the entire day on chasing illusions, and now he had to pursuit the idiot woman and his precious Key.

                The heavy rain made following the woman’s scent difficult, so he had to search blindly for any trace of her, hoping, that he would find it by accident.

                The dragon gritted his teeth, as he thought, how foolish he was to trust a human. The whole time he let her travel with him; he kept her alive, safe and fed, and now she dared to escape from him! He even planned on letting her live until death of old age! He couldn’t forgive her such ingratitude and betrayal. The worst was, that she not only broke her word, but also took the child and the key with herself, forfeiting all his plans. Aedain felt blood boiling in his veins from rage.

                Aedain growled with fury and changed the direction of the flight. Then he smiled maliciously, as he picked up a familiar scent. The trail was fresh.

                Woman, you will be punished for escaping me, he thought.

                May tripped and fell, when her legs refused to move properly. Slowly, she pulled herself back up and looked around. She was standing on the edge of a small clearing. The sunrays were seeping through the leaves, making the dark forest brighter than at night. The surroundings changed as well – the hostile environment of gurgling marshes and wilderness became replaced with that of a regular forest. The red flower, which had been guiding May all along withered after the night, shedding the flakes. However, May didn’t feel like she needed it anymore, as this part of the swamp looked safe.

                She took a few steps more and saw more light behind the trees in front of her. She squinted her eyes and smiled faintly, when she saw the fields, that looked very familiar. Between the distant village and the edge of the forest, Lavena’s tower was standing proud.

                She made it! May laughed, her voice creaking a bit – she was almost at her destination. Gathering her strength, May made her way to the tower.

                “Hello, May.” A deep voice sent chills down her May’s her greatest fears came true.

                Slowly, May turned around, mortified. Few feet from her stood no one other than Aedain, glaring at her with raw fury. May was paralyzed; she felt like a deer in the headlights. The demon sent her predatory look and clenched his fingers. That was enough for her to figure out what would happen next. Desperate, she whirled around and darted towards the tower with all the speed she could manage.

                She made only a few steps, when she felt something grabbing her shoulder and slamming her into the nearest tree. May screamed, when the demon roughly pinned her to the tree, nearly crushing her small frame. He was clutching her shoulder, tightening the grip of his fingers. On her, once white dress red stains began appearing, as the man pressed her flesh so forcefully, he broke her skin. He was so close to her that May’s any movement would be blocked. She couldn’t breathe, as her ribcage was squished between the tree and Aedain’s crimson armor.

                The demon leaned to the terrified girl and inhaled her scent. May trembled, when she felt his lips brushing against her earlobe, his hot breath against her neck. The demon slowly slid his hand from her shoulder to the neck, tracing her artery with his thumb.

                “I told you not to escape from me,” he whispered to May’s ear, before pulling back to look at her. May’s eyes met his cold gaze.

                “Aedain, I’m…”  she stuttered, trying to defend herself, but stopped, when she saw the expression of rage showing on the demon’s face.

                “I will not forgive you!” the man growled and clutched May’s throat.

                She choked and desperately gripped his wrist, digging her nails in it in a failed attempt to make him release her. She struggled, as the demon’s fingers were slowly tightening and crushing her windpipe. May’s vision blurred, her movements became weaker.

                Then he released her, throwing her to the forest floor. She gasped, sharply inhaling the air. After the first shock, when the oxygen filled her lungs again, she pulled herself to the sitting position and looked at the demon. Aedain towered over her and made no move, as though he was waiting for some kind of reaction from her.

                “What do you want from me?!” May spoke, her voice shaking, as tears began to well in her eyes. She didn’t understand why he didn’t finish her just now. Did he change his mind about killing her?

                The demon smirked at her.

                “It would be not amusing, if I ended your life swiftly and easily, would it?” he responded.

                May opened her eyes wider, realizing what he just said. The demon wanted her to suffer before she died, and he would enjoy that. She couldn’t see another option than fight. She wouldn’t give up her life easily, even if it meant doing exactly what he wanted.

                May quickly jumped back on her feet and ran. Aedain only waited for that. The demon leaped after her and knocked her down, sending her to the ground. She rolled several meters and crashed against a tree. She gritted her teeth and got up, ignoring the pain. She darted off.

                Aedain rushed after her. May gasped, as he appeared in front of her and pinned her to a tree again. He brought his face so close to hers that their noses were nearly touching.

                “Ready to beg me for your life?” he asked, smiling cruelly.

                May sent him an angry glare and started to struggle. He pinned her right arm above her head, twisting it painfully, gripping her throat at the same time. May hissed.

                “Well?” asked the demon with a sickening grin plastered across his face. Knowing, she would be dead soon anyway, May spat in his face.

                “Never!” she screamed at him.

                His grip tightened, as he returned the glare.

                May slowly reached with her free hand for the weapon tucked behind her sash and grabbed the hilt of her knife. Carefully, she pulled it out of the sheath, not averting her eyes from Aedain’s golden ones.

                He growled and was about to take action when May moved her arm with all the speed and accuracy she could manage; she stabbed the demon in his chest, right above the armor, hoping the blade would reach his heart.

                The demon let go of her arm and jumped back, the shock on his face, as he stared at the knife sticking out of his body. He grabbed the hilt and pulled it out, letting the blade fall to the ground. Then, he looked at the girl, who was still standing in place, unable to move. When their eyes met, May could see his golden eyes reflect surprise that gradually was changing into animalistic rage. She made a desperate attempt to flee, but he was on her in a heartbeat, painfully pressing her back to the trunk.

                He grabbed her throat and started squeezing it.

                “Die!” he growled, about to snap her neck.

                May closed her eyes, praying for the death to come quickly.

                Suddenly, she heard a strange sound. She opened her eyes and saw something flying swiftly towards them. Aedain released her throat, when his armor got cracked and something pierced the tree, right next to May’s cheek. May turned her head to see what it was.

                A spear. The spear went through Aedain’s shoulder, shattering his armor and wounding him quite a bit.

                May stayed plastered to the tree, without a clue what should she do now. The pole of the spear was sticking out of the tree half of an inch from her ear. The demon kept his composure despite his injury, but it was clear to her that he was immobilized, at least for now. May looked over Aedain’s shoulder to see who threw the weapon at the demon; a group of women was standing at the edge of the forest. Over two dozens of red-haired women bore the same determined expressions on their faces; each of them was wielding either a spear or a bow, ready to engage in battle with the demon.

                The one, who looked like she was the leader of the group made eye-contact with May. The blue-eyed woman smiled and pulled the bowstring. May nodded.

                “NOW!” the red-haired female warrior yelled, as arrows and spears rained upon Aedain.

                May gasped, realizing, that she was standing there like an idiot. Instantly, she darted away from Aedain. The sound of arrows whistling in the air everywhere around her was frightening, but she kept on running away from the demon.

                When attacked, Aedain hissed from frustration, furious that he had to let May  slip out of his grasp. Ignoring the pain, he broke the pole of the spear pining him to the tree and whirled around, drawing one of his swords. He had to use all of his focus to deflect the arrows and dodge the spears. It would be a lot easier if his right arm was not injured so much. Aedain glanced toward May, who was just getting away. When the warrior women made a brief pause in attacking, Aedain yelled with all the anger he felt and suddenly threw Dorreach in May’s direction. She tripped, as the sword pinned the sleeve of her dress to the tree. The black-haired demon swiftly drew his other sword, just in time to deflect the second wave of attack.

                When the red-haired women ran out of arrows, Aedain leapt forwards, as though he wished to charge onto them and wipe all of them out at once, but their leader turned out to be quite smart.

                “Scatter!” the woman called to her comrades, and they ran in all directions, hiding in the trees.

                Aedain cursed loudly, apparently burning with need to kill someone. Then, his eyes turned toward someone who was still around and began making his way to her.

                May gasped in horror as the demon was slowly stalking towards her. She still struggled with her sleeve, pinned against the tree, feeling panic welling in her. He was getting closer!

                Suddenly, she saw arrows flying in Aedain’s direction once again. The demon glanced that way as well and then gasped, swiftly dodging them. One of the arrows brushed past his face, cutting his cheek. The demon hissed with irritation and glared at the one, who sent the arrows, but the red-haired woman disappeared in the branches of a tree like a forest spirit.

                “Damn the witch and her wenches,” the angered demon growled, clenching his fist.

                May took the chance, that someone distracted him and pulled the sleeve. The fabric ripped, freeing her. She darted forward, leaving the sounds of raging battle behind her.

                “Over here!” May heard a voice from her right. She noticed a flicker of red from behind one of the trees. She decided to trust the voice and ran in that direction.

                “Here, girl!”

                “This way!”

                May was sprinting as fast as she could, guided by the voices of the forest creatures. She had no clue how much longer would she have to run, but it was the one race she couldn’t afford to lose – her life was at stake.

                Finally, Aedain managed to escape the constant attacks of the witch’s minions and darted after May. He was close to catching her, when the leader of the red-haired women stepped into his way, with the bow ready to fire.

                “You won’t be getting her,” the leader said confidently and then called to May: “RUN STRAIGHT AHEAD, GIRL!”

                May’s eyes widened when she was the witch’s tower right in front of her, maybe two hundred meters away. Her knees felt like giving up, but she kept running. She didn’t slow down when she heard a characteristic whizz of an arrow and a metallic sound, she kept going when a woman’s pained scream pierced the air, she didn’t even look back when she heard someone run after her. She didn’t have to; she knew perfectly who was chasing her – Aedain.

                May focused her gaze on the tower; she felt her pursuer gaining on to her quickly. Then, she felt the tips of Aedain’s fingers brush against her hair as the ground trembled and grass literally disappeared from under her feet. May shrieked when she lost her footing and fell through a hole in ground.

                She groaned when she slammed into the hard surface. May rolled onto her fours and felt a firm cold stone under her fingers. She lifted her head and saw the dark passageway in front of her eyes. A tunnel.

                “Hurry!” she heard a voice coming from one of the ends of the tunnel.

                Instantly remembering that Aedain was right behind her, May looked up, panicked. However, there was no sign of the demon anywhere, the ceiling of the tunnel was whole, as though she hadn’t damaged it while falling down here.

                “Come on, girl!” May heard the voice again.

                She got back onto her feet and began running along the ancient hallway. She kept tripping in the darkness, and the roots of trees kept catching on her hair, making the run a nightmare. The corridor wasn’t straight – it seemed more like a labyrinth designed to confuse anybody in here. Fortunately, the mysterious yet friendly female voice was guiding her all the way.

                “You’re almost there,” the disembodied voice said, encouraging May to keep moving.

Then, she heard a creak and bright light blinded her. Shielding her eyes with the arm, May blinked, seeing a silhouette engulfed by the glow.

                “Get inside!” a female voice called, and May got pulled right into the light.

A Close Call

                May bent in half and was panting heavily, trying to catch a breath. After a while, she straightened her back to see a skinny, gray-haired elderly lady with an aura of dignity and wisdom surrounding her. May assumed she was Lavena, the witch of the Riada Swamp. The sorceress was a total stranger, but the warm look in her grey eyes told May that she could be trusted.

                “It’s a miracle you made it,” the Lavena said with relief in her voice.

                She looked at May, scanning her up and down. May looked terrible after the whole day-and-night  on the run – her thin cotton dress, once white, was now dirty and torn, shreds of fabric hanging from her bare shoulder. She was covered in mud from the toes to the neck; her hair was a mess; blood was seeping from her injured shoulder, and she had nasty bruises on her throat.

                “I’m fine,” May assured Lavena.

                The silver-haired witch nodded, not entirely convinced. She glanced nervously at the still opened door to the tunnel and bit her lower lip, troubled. Then she lifted her head and strode toward May. Lavena gently took a hold of her chin and forced May to look her in the eye.

                “I know, that you came here from the world beyond the Veil through the soul-switching mirror,” she said, the tone of her voice deadly serious. “Now tell me, traveler, why did you come here? What is your purpose?”

                May furrowed her brows, feeling as though Lavena just accused her of having some evil intentions.

                “I don’t have any purpose. I just want to get home!” she exclaimed, fiercely returning Lavena’s wary look. “I got my soul switched by that damn mirror by damn accident! I looked into this cursed mirror and the next thing I knew I was already here, in the body of Duke’s daughter.”

                Lavena was observing May’s face for a longer while, not saying anything, but persistently staring into her eyes. Then, she released her chin and the stern expression on the witch’s face softened.

                “I saw no lie in your eyes,” she told May, sounding much less hostile now. “ I believe, you have no ill intentions. Didn’t you know of the Kal Laismarr before?”

                May shook her head and Lavena sighed.

                “You have the worst luck then,” she informed May.

                “I guess so,” May muttered, agreeing with the sorceress.

                Lavena smiled gracefully and placed her elegant hand on her shoulder in a calming gesture.

                “Don’t worry, your misfortunes will end very soon. I’ll return you to your world right away. The Messenger will soon be in position. The portal will open,” the silver-haired witch sincerely assured May.

                May raised her eyebrow, thinking that Lavena seemed a bit too friendly. It was nice of her to help a total stranger in need, but at the same time it was awfully suspicious that she would risk Aedain’s wrath out of a goodness of her heart.

                “Why are you helping me?” May asked. The cordial smile slowly faded away from Lavena’s lips.

                “Your presence is a danger for the inhabitants of this world,” the witch said straightforwardly. “Even if your heart is pure and good, your knowledge could be used by evildoers for their own purposes. You are a like a weapon, girl, and it is unwise to leave a sharp knife in a reach of mischievous children.”

                May smiled sadly, understanding Lavena’s train of thoughts – theoretically she could tell Aedain how to create a gun or A-bomb.

                “Fine. You’re going to send me back then?” she made sure.

                Lavena nodded and glanced at the other door, the ones, that were slightly opened. “I almost forgot, someone’s waiting for you. Come, child!”

                May let out a joyful sigh, when she saw Erik, who was darting toward the underground chamber, a wide, relieved smile on his lips.

                “May!” Erik exclaimed, throwing himself onto her and trapping her waist in an almost crushing embrace.

                The both of them were hugging each other without saying a word. They didn’t need to – the happy smiles on their faces said all, showing their joy from the safe reunion. May felt the tears of relief and joy run down her cheeks. She lifted her head and looked at the witch.

                “Thank you, thank you very much,” May said, her voice cracking. “You saved our lives.”

                 Lavena smiled, looking at May and Erik, and slammed the door shut, right in time.

                The door barely closed, when something heavy collided with the wood, creating a loud thud. Erik shrieked and May instinctively stepped back from it, pulling the child after her. The banging noise was repeating over and over again, as though someone tried to get inside – and May perfectly knew, who it was.

                “Calm down!” Lavena exclaimed, seeing the terrified looks on May’s and Erik’s  faces. The witch folded her arms confidently. “The wards around this chamber are strong. Even Prince Aedain won’t get through.”

                May nodded, acknowledging her words, but the constant banging on the door wasn’t helping her to calm down.

                “No more wasting time,” the witch spoke energetically, ignoring the heavy atmosphere inside the dimly lit chamber, and stalked towards the middle of the room. “I’ll start preparing the gateway.”

                May sat down on the dusty floor, comforting trembling Erik, who attached himself to her like a baby koala to its mother. May was patting the child’s head, while looking around the chamber.

                The underground room was spacious and filled with items commonly classified as junk. In fact, the place reminded her of her dad’s basement back in Baltimore – the books were mixed with ancient objects in the same unruly way. Lavena was struggling to remove a large piece of cloth from a tall thing. Once she finally pulled the thick fabric off it, May could see that the object was a mirror. It was about ten feet tall; the triangular shape was encased in a solid frame made of sparkling transparent crystal. The stone looked too fine to be mere quartz; May suspected to be made of genuine diamond. There were markings carved on the edges of the mirror, but May couldn’t read them.

                She felt a sting of fear when she was looking at the mirror – she had a bad experience with a magical looking glass before. Lavena began setting tall candles and drawing complicated patterns on the floor around the triangular mirror.

                Erik clutched May’s dress tighter when the banging on the door stopped after a while. Somehow the silence was even more unsettling that the constant noise – before she at least knew where Aedain was.

                May sighed when she observed Lavena weaving some spell, which was supposed to make the portal work. Erik kept eying the door suspiciously. The boy squeaked and flinched when the pounding sounds began anew.

                From time to time, single noises resounded throughout the chamber as Aedain tried to barge in from the outside. So far, there was a little success, but the sounds were coming from all the directions, even from under the floor. It was a bad sign. It meant, that the demon began thinking and was searching for a weak point in the magical barrier set around the chamber.

                Afterwards, the whole room shook, as something hit the ceiling powerfully. There was a series of rumbling sounds and then the stones began assuming a red color. Erik inhaled the air sharply and yelped, scared. May had the impression, that it was beginning to get slightly warmer in the chilly chamber.

                “He wants to smoke us out,” Lavena said grimly, making a short break in her incantations to look at the ceiling.

                The witch applied the finishing touches to the pattern on the floor and stood up, looking at the huge mirror in front of her.

                “It’s nearly ready,” Lavena announced, closing her eyes.

                She touched the diamond frame and began muttering some incoherent words. May couldn’t make out what she were chanting, but the words had a certain strange monotonous melody.

                May jumped onto her feet when the diamond frame began sparkling, as though there was light coming from the inside of the gem. The winding pattern on the dusty floor flared with bright silver glow, as the candles lit all of a sudden, all by themselves. There was magic at work here. May took Erik’s hand and hesitantly approached the mirror.

                Then, the mirror broke into million pieces. To May it looked like it exploded; the shards began circling Lavena and breaking into smaller pieces until they were reduced to the size of a grain of sand. The mirror dust flew toward the pattern on the floor. As the tiny pieces of the looking glass touched the glowing lines, they became liquid like mercury. The strange liquid first covered the pattern Lavena had drawn, and then it filled the inside of it, creating a small pond of silver.

                Erik gasped and entwined his arms around May’s waist, as though scared to be separated from his friend by force. He shook his head and looked up, silently pleading to take him along on what journey laid ahead of May.

                She nodded with a gentle smile on her lips. There was no way she could leave Erik in the Callesmere. She wanted to keep the child safe from Aedain, but there was another reason as well; by whisking the Guardian of the Key and the Key itself out of the demons’ grasp, she’d save the humankind in the Callesmere Empire from the power thirsty Aeadain and the others like him.

                “Erik’s coming with me,” May announced to Lavena. “Aedain will kill him if he stays here.”

                The old witch stared at her and the little boy for a while, but then nodded in agreement.

                Suddenly, the chamber shook violently; the fragments of the stone ceiling and dust began falling onto the floor. May looked up, wiping the sweat out of her forehead – the stones building the ceiling were enlightening the cellar with an orange glow, heated by the dragon fire. The temperature in the room rose so much, that May felt the clothing glue to her damp, sweating body.

                Then, the chamber shook again, as a stone block fell from the ceiling in the far corner across the room.

                “Oh no,” Lavena muttered and looked at May. “Get ready, girl!”

                May bit her lower lip, she was scared. She knew what was happening – Aedain was about to barge in.

                Lavena started chanting the final part of the spell; her chants were hastier, as the witch struggled to make it in time before Aedain got inside.

                “Hala Veiten Lar!” the witch exclaimed in the Laismaran language, the language used in all the spells she knew.

                “Calla Etne Seancinne!”she yelled, finishing the incantation.

                The bright light suddenly erupted from the sapphire pendant on the Erik’s chest and traveled toward the passageway, opening it.

                The pool of liquid silver glowed brightly now, and its surface slowly became foggy, as the reflection of the ceiling was disappearing. May clutched Erik’s hand tighter and jogged closer to the portal, stopping only a step away from the passageway. She took a deep breath, knowing that she’d be soon home. If Aedain didn’t get inside sooner.

                Erik squeaked when the floor beneath their feet shook, and more stone blocks fell inside the chamber. May coughed as the dust filled her lungs. She glanced towards the source of commotion and stiffened.

                The light of sun was engulfing the chamber in its warm glow when half of the ceiling disappeared, along with the entire tower which used to be over the cellar.

                Then, everything happened just too fast. May saw a glimpse of crimson scales, as a huge dragon landed in the chamber. The deafening roar made May’s ears ring. The beast batted its wings, and the blow of the air knocked Lavena off her feet. May lost her balance and fell backwards toward the pool of liquid silver; she slammed into the surface which turned out to be solid, and reached out for Erik’s hand. She saw barely anything in the dust and steam.

                May felt her fingers brush against the little boy’s fingertips, when the floor swayed once again under her. She tried to support herself on her elbows, but suddenly the firm surface became soft and gave in, sucking her into the darkness. May gasped, feeling an unpleasant tingling in her body. She tried to free herself, but soon the softness engulfed the rest of her body as well. She wanted to call out, but once the mirror swallowed her, she felt as though she was suffocating. May felt Erik’s fingers slip out of her hold; she tried to grip them more firmly, but then an excruciating pain shot through her body. May opened the mouth, desperate to get a lungful of air, but there was no air in the dark emptiness.

                Then, all the torturing sensations stopped, leaving her in the darkness. May drew a breath, panicked. Her first instinct was to get on her feet and look around, but she couldn’t move properly. Her heart began beating faster, as the fear overwhelmed her – she could barely lift a limb; she felt as though she was laying on something hard, with a foreign object digging in her back. She shifted and heard rustling all around her body.

                “He…” she began, wanting to call out for help, but something filled her mouth when she opened it. May began coughing, spitting it out. She lifted her hand to her mouth, getting rid of it – she recognized by the taste and scent that it was sawdust. She suspected that wherever she was, she was laying in sawdust.

                May took a deep calming breath. Actually, it wasn’t the worst of signs. At least, she knew that she wasn’t stuck somewhere in space between the worlds – she doubted that the mystical Veil separating dimensions would consist of sawdust.

                A bit less panicked, she reached out with her hands with the intention to explore crefully the place she was stuck in. She found a solid surface in front of her and ran her fingers over it. The wood. May bit her lower lip, trying not to panic. She was locked in some sort of a wooden case, like in a coffin. Her rational mind told her to keep her calm and use as little oxygen as possible, but she wanted to thrash and scream. May began pounding with her fists on the wooden surface. She was hitting it so forcefully that her knuckles hurt, but she didn’t stop.

                “HELP!” she yelled, wildly knocking on the case with the fists and knees.

                May felt tears wetting her cheeks, as she was screaming and hitting the inside of the wooden case.

                Then, she heard a creak and light blinded her.

                “May!” she heard a familiar voice and then a pair of hands pulled her out from the coffin-like prison.

                May looked at her savior and exclaimed with joy:

                “Hailey!” she cried and clutched her younger sister, feeling a wave of relief wash over her.

                She made it. She returned home.

                May’s heart filled with joy, as everything she experienced in the Callesmere Empire was nothing but a nightmare now and she had just awoken. Then, her eyes snapped open, as she remembered something very important, something she forgot because of her fear.

                 “Erik!” she breathed out and spun around. She looked at the wooden case she was locked in. Inside laid a triangular frameless a similar one to the artifact in Lavena’s cellar. The mirror was covered in the sawdust, which protected the item from shattering. May desperately reached inside, frantically throwing the fistfuls of sawdust away, but there was nobody there. Her bleeding hands hit the solid surface of the mirror.

                May closed her eyes and shook her head, realizing that she came through the mirror alone. She had failed Erik. If only she were holding his hand stronger…

                “I’m so sorry Erik,” May whispered. She was about to turn away from the mirror, when she saw a glimpse of something sparkling in sawdust. She reached there and found a small object, probably the same, which was digging into her back a while earlier. May fished it out and opened her palm to look at it.

                She gasped, when she saw it.

                Erik’s sapphire necklace.

Back at home

                May was staring at the sapphire necklace, she was clutching in her palm. She smiled bitterly  – Erik didn’t make it to this side of the mirror, but at least the humankind in the Callesmere Empire was safe. Without the necklace, Aedain would never lay his hands on the Dragonslayer’s Spear.

                “May?” She turned her head toward the source of the voice as if she was in trance. She saw her sister Hailey free herself from her embrace and back away, maintaining a safe distance. Equipped with a large, heavy cross, Hailey was eying May with suspicion, as though she was standing eye to eye with a vampire. “What did you get from me for your tenth birthday?”

                May blinked, surprised by the sight of Hailey in such a warrior-like stance, holding the cross like a baseball bat.

                “You threw a dog poo under my pillow,” May replied. “Easy, Hailey, it’s really me. I got my soul…”

                “Switched with the bitch who called me a simpleton. I know,” Hailey said, lowering the cross. The sacred weapon fell to the ground from her fingers as tears welled in her eyes. “You’re alive!”

                May stiffened, when Hailey trapped her in an embrace, crying her name hysterically repeatedly while laughing through the tears. May put her arms around her sister, surprised by Hailey’s emotional reaction. Never in her life had she displayed that much affection. May smiled slightly, but she wasn’t as happy as she thought she’d be. Even though she did the impossible – returned home from a hostile world, she couldn’t bring herself to laugh; the sorrow after failing Erik was just too fresh.

                “Look at you! You’re here again!” Hailey exclaimed gleefully, pulling back and gazing at May, as though she was the most wonderful thing in the world. She completely ignored that her sister looked like she just returned from a battlefield – her clothing dirty and torn, the hair tangled, covered in blood and dried mud.

                May smiled slightly and ruffled Hailey’s straight hair, noticing that it grew a bit since the last time they saw each other.

                “Now tell me what you did with my sister! Hailey was never that nice,” May joked, making the younger girl beam with happiness. Suddenly, the brilliant smile on Hailey’s face faltered when she took notice of her sister’s terrible condition. She covered her mouth with her hand, staring at May’s scratches and bruises with horror.

                “May, is that blood?” she whispered, seeing the red liquid all over May’s dress. “We need to disinfect this!”

                Hailey snatched May’s hand and dragged her toward the exit. May made her way between the all-present antiques and boxes of various shapes and sizes. When she stepped outside the basement, she held her breath, still not entirely believing, that she was home at last. Slowly, May made her way upstairs, looking at her surroundings. Everything was the same as the day she got transported to the Callesmere Empire, everything except her. She felt like a stranger. She had spent all her life here, but the truth was, she got used to the world on the other side of the mirror.

                May’s sister ushered her to the bathroom, ordering her to wash off the mud and blood. May thought that Hailey resembled their mother when she was bossing people around like that.

                May closed the door and walked over to a large mirror and took a good look. The sight of herself was quite terrifying. May could easily pass for a ghost now. Her hair was messy and dirty; the dress’s state didn’t need to be commented. She touched the bruises around her neck and winced. May took her clothing off and filled the bathtub with hot water. She tried to relax at last – it was the first time in a really long time since she was bathing in hot water.

                May’s thoughts were drifting. She was thinking of everything and nothing in particular. She was glad to be here again, excited to see Hailey once more, but will also miss the people she met on the other side of the mirror. Above all, she regretted not having Erik close. Knowing, that she’d never see witch Lavena, who helped her although May was only a stranger, made her feel sad. She’d like to meet the people from the Thoen Stronghold as well – her good friend Leif, the strict but caring Hilda and Duke Thoen, who treated her like a daughter. May would even miss the carrot-loving Meirch and maybe a bit Baltar. Only a tiny bit. She would definitely NOT miss Aedain.

                “Psychotic bastard,” she muttered, scrubbing her skin, careful not to mess her wound.

                The mere thought about the dragon prince infuriated her. There were times, when he was almost bearable and true, he even protected her once, but he was just plainly evil nonetheless. May dived under the surface of the water and held the breath, trying to think of something pleasant instead. She emerged, inhaling air and got out of the tub. Once dried, she examined her reflection. She looked almost like before now, as though nothing had changed. Perhaps it was so on the outside, but May felt that inside she wasn’t the same girl anymore.

                When May walked into her room, she was surprised that everything was exactly the way she left it that morning a month ago, even the stray sock was laying on the same spot on the floor. May put a plain T-shirt and a pair of shorts on, when she heard Hailey knocking forcefully. The door was half opened, so the younger of sisters invited herself in, carrying an overly large first-aid kit.

                “Sit down,” Hailey said seriously, pointing at the chair. May did so and winced when her sister began disinfecting all the scratches.

                “Mom and dad are in New York,” Hailey explained, guessing May’s question. “They will be back tomorrow.”

                “Oh, another conference?” May asked. Hailey stiffened; her hand shook a bit when she was trying to clean a particularly nasty scratch.

                “No, they’re looking for an apartment there. We’ll be moving in autumn,” Hailey said, avoiding eye contact.

                “Why?” May asked, shifting on the chair to look at her younger sister.

                “Mom… mom wants to move somewhere else,” Hailey replied, uneasiness in her voice. Then, she changed the topic. “So, how was on the other side?”

                “Adventurous,” she replied. May sighed and then told Hailey. She told her sister everything, starting with the days spent in the Thoen Stronghold. She summarized how Aedain kidnapped her, how he was searching for the legendary Spear which was supposed to grant him power to annihilate humans of the Callesmere Empire. She told Hailey about all the adventures and her great escape, saving for herself, that she brought back a souvenir – the sapphire pendant, which was now hidden under her T-shirt.

                When she finished her tale, May almost regretted telling it the first place; Hailey was staring at her with a mix of pity and terror on her face, covering her mouth with her palm.

                “But… but you managed to save the world, right?” Hailey whispered.

                May laughed lightly and touched the pendant with the sapphire on the golden chain.

                “I think I did,” she answered.

                May realized that never she has been able to speak with her little sister so freely, without arguing. Perhaps the trip to the Callesmere Empire had its bright sides, even though it was a horrible month.

                May froze with terror. Lady Maewyn must have met her parents and Hailey, more… she must have lived with them for over a month and attended school, to make the matters worse. God, maybe May could do a fairly good job posing as the Lady, but what were the odds Maewyn did so as well? What possibly a Lady from the Callesmere Empire could know about the history of the United States or equations?!

                “May!” Hailey called her, concern all over her face. “Everything all right?” she asked.

                May nodded slowly, her thoughts still oscillating around the school – she played through her head already the most gruesome scenarios – being the worst in the class, failing her finals, repeating the grade, being expelled from school, not getting into Harvard. More importantly, how did her family react?! She shivered, dreading mom’s reaction.

                “Hailey, where is the Lady?” May demanded, panic in her eyes. “She’s here, right?”

                She had to talk with that girl – she had to inquire, what happened here to avoid any awkward situations and had to inform the Maewyn girl, that her fiancé was probably killed, along with tons of another news.

                May noticed that Hailey was about to panic. She wriggled her fingers and stared at her feet only to suddenly get interested in the structure of the ceiling. Then, she glanced at May cautiously.

                “I guess I should tell you,” Hailey said quietly.

                May furrowed her brows, baffled by her sister’s weird behavior. What was the secret?

                “How should I put this…” Hailey was stalling.

                “Hailey, tell me already!” May urged the younger girl.

                “Err…” Hailey mumbled, avoiding answering her, but the she finally gathered the courage to look May in the eye.

                “You’re dead,” she said bluntly.

                May stared at Hailey for a longer while.

                “I’m alive,” she answered, feeling awkward.

                She was sitting here, sound and safe, and very much alive, right? So what was Hailey talking about?

                “I mean the ‘you’ here,” the blonde girl explained.

                May tilted her head, confused. She here? Then the wheels of her mind turned, and she paled as she realized what she could mean.

                “Where’s Lady Maewyn?” she asked, having a really nasty hunch.

                Hailey looked at May and bit her lower lip, hesitating to answer.

                “You see, May, she’s dead,” she uttered finally.

                “Dead?” May repeated, the information didn’t soak in.

                Hailey took a deep breath.

                “She got hit by a truck. Right after your and hers souls switched, she freaked out and ran outside. I tried to stop her, but I… I couldn’t. Then it happened. Right outside our house. I’m sorry; I just couldn’t stop her.”

                Hailey sobbed, remembering the feral morning.

                May sat still for a while, processing what her sister had just said. She managed to stay alive in a hostile magical world – the demons attacked her; she had been even kidnapped by one – and that idiot Lady managed to get herself hit by a truck? Seriously? Couldn’t she survive here even five minutes?

                “Okay,” May replied slowly, terrified by the consequences of the incident. “What now?”

                Hailey shook her head, her sobbing subsiding a bit.

                “You’re officially dead – our parents had the DNA-test performed, because the body was a mess after the accident. You got a death certificate, funeral and all, so if you just walk into the school, you’ll be like a ghost or a zombie. Not to mention when the parents see you…”

                May stared at Hailey, trying to comprehend, what it meant. Dead. She suffered so much to go back here only to discover, that she was officially deceased to this world. And to think, that she was worrying about school right now. What about mom and dad? How in Earth was she supposed to greet them and announce her parents that she’s alive, in a body borrowed from a Lady from some other freaking planet?!

                “What am I going to do now?” May whimpered, resting her head on her hands.

                She felt a terrible headache approaching. Hailey sat on May’s bed and looked at her older sister helplessly.

                “I have no idea. After the funeral mom snapped, she keeps crying every time she sees your stuff, your school, your favorite movie. That’s why we’re moving,” she said. “And dad spends whole days at work, sometimes he even sleeps on his couch in the office. I think he wants to forget.”

                May hung her head, devastated by what Hailey had told her.

                “You didn’t tell them, did you?” she asked quietly.

                Hailey snorted humorlessly.

                “What was I supposed to tell them? That the girl killed by the truck is not May, but another person trapped inside her body? Do you think anyone would believe me if I told them that I think my sister is alive in another dimension? I’d get psychotropic drugs for breakfast!” Hailey drew a shaky breath, staring at May helplessly. “Only I knew you weren’t dead.”

                May walked over to the bed, Hailey was sitting on, and she hugged her little sister, trying to comfort her. Before she was so focused on surviving in the Callesmere Empire and getting home that she had no clue what effect her absence had on her family members.

                “Don’t worry Hailey, everything will be fine. Somehow,” May whispered as she began rocking her crying sister. Hailey’s sobbing was getting quieter, soon her eyes ran out of tears. When the younger girl stilled, May gently laid her on the bed and covered her with a blanket – Hailey must have been so tired of crying that she fell asleep.

                She was reunited with her sister, but despair overwhelmed her heart. How could such a thing happen? It was supposed to be okay, not worse than it was. She had the impression that the news was suffocating her. She needed air.

                May walked over to the window and opened it widely. She let the air fill her lungs and looked up at the sky. It was still early, but the moon was already up. In this world, it didn’t have any companion. Her hand wandered toward the sapphire necklace she had around her neck. She closed her fingers around the blue gem, wondering what happened to Erik after May left to her world.

The Dragon’s Wrath

Riada Swamp, the Callesmere Empire

                Dust filled the chamber; the debris was flying all around Erik’s head. He grabbed May’s hand, when she began submerging herself in the portal.

                The crimson light flashed in the room, and Aedain transformed back into his usual form. The demon glared at the group gathered at the mirror and dashed forward after Erik and disappearing May. Aedain locked his target on – the boy was holding May’s hand, the only part of her body, which was still outside the mirror; very quickly it vanished inside as well though. The demon cursed and used his unnatural speed to get to the pair.

                Erik gasped, when he felt a strong pull from behind – Aedain grabbed the child’s collar and yankinghim backwards. The boy yelped, scared and startled that his captor got him. His hand was already in the mirror, still clutching May’s palm, but Erik knew that he wouldn’t follow May, not when Aedain got a hold of him. If he didn’t let go now, May would be captured again.

                The child reached with his free hand to the sapphire necklace around his neck and pulled it forcefully until the golden chain gave way. Erik threw the object with all his strength into the misty surface of the mirror and flexed his fingers; he felt his palm slipping out of May’s. A second later he fell back, losing the hold of his friend. The surface of the mirror became clear and solid, so that Erik could see himself and Aedain reflecting in the looking glass – the passageway closed, swallowing May and the Key.

                Aedain jumped onto the surface of the mirror, wanting to follow May wherever she vanished, but the strange pool of opaque liquid turned into a plain looking glass already. The mirror beneath the demon’s feet cracked like thin ice and erupted, shattering into tiny pieces. The infinitesimal fragments of silvery glass whirled around startled Aedain as though wind carried them away, and they returned to its original place in the massive diamond frame. The pieces of the mirror settled like fragments of puzzle and joined into one again.

                The demon let go off Erik, roughly dumping the child onto the floor and stalked toward the mirror. He slammed its surface with his fist forcefully, but the looking glass neither shattered nor budged.

                Uncontrollable fury burned in him like a raging fire before, but what he witnessed just a moment ago made Aedain absolutely livid. The demon turned away from the mirror and looked at the people crouching among the debris. His gaze slid over terrified Erik and focused on witch Lavena, who was pulling herself up to the sitting position.

                “Where is she?” Aedain asked, his voice shaking from all the anger and murder lust he felt.

                Lavena bravely met his gaze, lifting her chin.

                “The girl is gone. She’s out of your reach now,” she answered, her pale smile mocking Aedain.

                The demon gritted his teeth and growled, clenching his fist.

                “Gone where?” he demanded, his voice raspy. He glared at the witch intensely. “I asked where!”

                Lavena laughed shortly, standing up. Her robe was tattered; she had a nasty cut on her cheek, but also a great deal of satisfaction; after all, she had just saved the world. She looked at the furious Aedain with a wide smile on her face.

                “Well, I suppose I could satisfy your curiosity. It’s not like you could follow her anyway,” the witch said, getting Aedain’s undivided attention. “I just returned her where she belongs.”

                Aedain furrowed his brows, not fully comprehending of what the witch meant.

                “What? What are you talking about, old hag?” he demanded, a look of confusion creeping onto his face.

                Lavena smirked knowingly.

                “You see, dragon prince, this girl was a stray traveler from the other world, the place beyond the Veil,” the witch explained with satisfaction, seeing Aedain surprised. “The portal is closed now, and it can’t be opened without the Key. To say it short, you’ll never get the girl.”

                Aedain gasped. The Key? What was the old hag talking about? His precious Key was right here, the boy had it.

                “Where do you think you are going?” the demon hissed out as he pinpointed Erik, who was trying to discreetly crawl away. Aedain swiftly got to the terrified child and roughly grabbed him by his collar. Erik yelped, when the demon’s fingernails hurriedly grazed the back of his neck, searching for the golden chain of his necklace. When he found none, Aedain narrowed his eyes. “Where is it? Where is my Key?”

                Erik was trembling, fearing the intimidating demon who could snap his neck in a moment. Aedain was angry, but the boy knew that he was about to get as furious as it gets. Erik swallowed a lump in his throat and looked into Aedain’s golden eyes, bravely sustaining the eye-contact.

                “I threw it away,” he said, attempting to sound confident and proud, but failing miserably as his voice kept cracking. “I threw it into the portal so that you would never get it.”

                Aedain stared blankly at the child who had just proudly announced to him how he had thwarted his plan. Suddenly it all became clear to him. The sapphire necklace was supposed to be the Key opening the place, where the Dragonslayer’s Spear had been hidden, the very same Key had been used to open the portal to the world beyond the Veil. The demon was positive it was no coincidence – the Spear must have been laid to rest there, in a place which was so difficult to reach. When he finally knew where the Spear’s chamber was…

                The demon growled, realizing that without the cursed necklace, the portal would not open ever again; the doorway to the Spear, to his long-awaited power, to his great destiny had been closed forever. All because of two weak females and a child… Aedain focused all his rage that began building in him anew on the witch and the child. He glared at the two trembling persons mercilessly.

                “You two are dying right now,” Aedain announced in a terrifyingly calm voice.

                Erik’s honey-colored eyes widened as the demon unsheathed one of his swords, setting his eyes on him. The scared child whimpered and hastily made a step back, but he tripped and fell down. Erik stared at Aedain, petrified, as the demon approached him, ready to perform the execution. The child’s heart felt as though it desperately wanted to escape his ribcage; he tried to move, to attempt to escape, but his body was so stiff that he couldn’t move an inch. Erik could only helplessly observe the nearing death. When he saw Aedain lift his sword, the boy squeezed his eyes shut, praying for the end to be swift and painless. He heard the characteristic sound as the blade cut through the air, nearing his head.

                Erik sharply inhaled the air, holding the breath in, waiting. The time flew awfully slowly, the split seconds dragging on like minutes… The boy felt that his lungs began burning, and he drew a desperate breath, instinctively opening his eyes.

                The child was still frozen in place; he stared up, surprised that he was conversely alive. The blade of Aedain’s sword Sholais was an inch away from his neck. Erik could nearly feel the touch of cold steel. The boy blinked, confused. Why did Aedain stop the sword? Why did he hesitate?

                The long-haired demon was standing still like a statue, not moving a muscle. The rage slowly vanished from his face to be replaced by surprise and confusion. He furrowed his brows as a disturbing feeling stirred inside him.

Someone was approaching.

                “Hm?” Aedain grunted, focusing on the strange sensation; who- or whatever was coming, they were powerful and most probably hostile. The demon cursed mentally – just when he thought that his day could not get any worse, it did. Aedain glanced down, looking at the damaged and bloodied armor. His right shoulder had been pierced by a spear and right now blood was sipping from the wound. The pain was bearable, but the movements with his arm were seriously limited, wielding a sword was out of question. To add to his misery, every breath he took was excruciating as the damnable woman had pierced his lung with her knife, only barely missing his heart. Aedain hissed from frustration. “No, not now.”

                Erik hurriedly crawled away from Aedain, taking advantage of the moment of distraction. The child pulled himself up and ran to witch Lavena, who was barely standing, clutching the big mirror’s frame for support. Erik’s gaze was wandering between Aedain and the old woman; both had focused, distant expressions on their faces as though what had happened a while ago became meaningless for them. The boy gasped, when apparently he felt something as well – it was a brief dark sensation, the one he had always referred to as his instinct. Perhaps it wasn’t instinct at all, maybe it was an inherited ability which was in him along with his demon blood. Erik stiffened as the feeling was becoming stronger, nearly suffocating him with its intensity.

                Suddenly, the air temperature rose and twin flames appeared right in the middle of the debris-filled chamber. The fire was burning brightly, but Erik gazed at it, squinting his eyes. In the flames, he discerned two human-like silhouettes. They became more defined as the fire subsided, although it looked rather like those persons were absorbing the raging element, incorporating it in their bodies. When the fire burned out, Erik could clearly see the two newcomers.

                In front of him, two slender men were standing. They were identical – Erik couldn’t tell them apart no matter how hard he tried. Both had amazingly red hair, which was in a constant movement as though it consisted of flames. Their faces were beautiful, as were their ideal slim bodies. The creatures, which had just emerged from the fire, were the most graceful beings Erik had ever seen. They were so beautiful, ethereal and delicate that they could be mistaken for guardian spirits. Perhaps a regular human could be fooled by their looks, but Erik could feel the air of heartless cruelty around them, there was evil in front of him.

                The newcomers calmly looked at Aedain, witch Lavena, Erik and the huge triangular mirror, the only whole object in the destroyed chamber. The faces of strangers bore the focused expressions.

                “The passage is no longer open. We are late,” one of them said in an aloof voice.

                “Too bad,” the other twin replied indifferently. “The master will be disappointed.”

                Aedain clenched his teeth, eying the two identical creatures suspiciously. He gripped the handle of his sword firmer .

                “Who are you?” he demanded harshly, his muscles tense and ready to spring into a fight.

                The twins didn’t answer him; they treated the dragon, as though they didn’t notice his existence. For some reason, their eyes were set on Erik right now.

                “What do you want here?” Aedain hissed out, his voice betraying the rising anger; the dark-haired demon hated being ignored.

                One of the newcomers turned his head towards him and smiled politely, making Aedain snarl.

                “We were sent here to bring our master two things: the Dragonslayer’s Spear and a dragon,” he replied, still smiling at Aedain.

                “Unfortunately we will have to settle on only a dragon though,” the other twin said. “Now put your sword down and come with us, dragon.”

                Aedain glared at the duo, lifting his sword and assuming a battle stance.

                “I do not think so,” he answered proudly, giving the twins a hint that if they wanted him, they would have to defeat him. The black-haired demon narrowed his eyes at his adversaries, noticing that they didn’t seem to be intimidated in a slightest. Then a disturbing suspicion crept into his mind, there was an answer he needed despite being almost sure of what it would be. “Who gives you orders?”

                The twins smirked. Suddenly, the ring of fire surrounded the remains of Lavena’s tower, cutting the escape route off.

                “You will meet him soon enough, son of Keallach,” they replied simultaneously.

                The black-haired demon gritted his teeth, feeling insulted. He lifted his chin proudly.

“Your master is a coward then. Is he so afraid to show here personally that he sent two pathetic excuses of warriors?”

                The twins didn’t react at the mockery, the polite smiles never leaving their delicate faces. They tilted their heads, moving as though they were one, looking at Aedain with a mix of pity and amusement.

                “You are not worth our master’s time, dragon. You are barely deserving ours,” they told Aedain in one voice.

                The black-haired man growled at the insult, glaring daggers at the duo. He was nearly shaking with fury, ignoring the dull pain from his injuries.

                “I will show you how much I am worth,” he hissed out through the clenched teeth, readying to attack.

The Revenge

                Aedain charged at his opponents, using his unnatural speed. He smirked, swinging his sword Sholais; his pathetic adversaries were so slow that they didn’t manage even to begin dodging or parrying. His sword was already nearly touching one of the twins’ neck when both red-haired  beings vanished.

                Aedain gasped when his sword cut air instead of beheading his opponent. How? When? What was happening? Confused, he whirled around, searching for the missing duo. When he was in the middle of the movement, Aedain discerned a blur and one of the opponents suddenly appeared in front of him so quickly that the dragon could not even tell when they did it.

                One of the red-haired creatures outstretched its arm in a lazy gesture. However, it was truly fast, for even Aedain with all his speed could be only a helpless spectator as a delicate-looking fist approached his solar Plexus and collided with it with an astounding force. The black-haired demon choked when the air fled his lungs and his whole body had been thrown back like a rag doll. Almost instantly he felt a blow in the back which sent him on his knees.

                Aedain was coughing blood as he supported himself with his sword. Terrible pain was shooting through his body, but what suffered the greatest injury was his pride – he, Aedain, was the strongest of his clan, so far he never met his match. And yet, these two harmlessly looking creatures were toying with him like he was some common weakling. He gathered his remaining strength and pulled himself up, facing his opponents once again.

                “Not giving up yet?” one of the red-haired twins mocked Aedain, casually resting his hands on his hips.

                Aedain smiled humorlessly.

                “I never give up,” he informed his opponents.

                “Very well,” the duo said in chorus and leapt onto the black-haired man. The twins’ movements were symmetric like images in a mirror. They flanked Aedain and lifted their legs to deliver kicks. However, the dragon was expecting such attack and evaded it by jumping high into the air. He fell onto one of his opponents like a hawk onto a mouse, but the red-haired enemy swiftly moved out of the way. Aedain fluently changed the direction of attack and swung at the other one once he firmly landed on the ground. For a good while he was dancing around the duo, searching for a weakness, but they kept dodging his attacks with ease.

                Finally, Aedain stilled keeping a wary look on the opponents. He could read the twins’ movements, but he was certain that the two did not even fight close to their full potential. He had an idea how to bring them down, but it would be risky – he would have only one chance to attack. The demon felt blood seeping from his body, along with a considerable portion of his strength and stamina.

                Aedain braced himself and made an inviting gesture towards his enemies, provoking them to attack him. The duo didn’t hesitate – they rushed onto the demon the same way they did before – flanking him. That was what he was waiting for. He swung his sword at them, purposely making them approach him and dance around himself. He was spending nearly all his energy to keep up with the terribly fast opponent and to avoid their powerful blows – Aedain was certain that one of those would be enough to knock him out.

                Finally, the red-haired twins performed just the type of attack Aedain was waiting for; they attempted to land their kicks on his right side both from the front and behind. The demon clenched his teeth, prepared for what was to come and let them strike. His nerves flared and for a split second his vision darkened as the legs of his opponents easily shattered his ribs.

                Surprise flashed on the duo’s faces when Aedain pressed their legs to his side with the injured right arm. He smirked, overcoming the pain. Trapping the enemies’ limbs, he swung Sholais, making use of the moment when he had the advantage. The red-haired creatures had no chance to neither dodge nor fight back, when Aedain’s sword went through her bodies like through butter, slicing them in half. The corpses fell to the ground limply.

                Aedain exhaled with relief and smiled to himself, self-satisfaction filling his heart. The demon carefully touched his side and winced – at least four of his ribs were broken. Mentally cursing the pain, he sheathed Sholais and turned his back to the defeated enemies. It was a difficult battle and required some sacrifice, but at least it was not in vain.

                The demon set his gaze on the old witch and the child, who were observing the battle all the time. He smirked, noticing the terrified looks on their faces – after all they had just seen how powerful he, Aedain, was. Erik pointed her finger at him and moved his lips a couple of times, as though he was trying to say something to Aedain, but no words escaped his throat. The boy was pale like a wraith.

                “B-b-behind you!” Erik exclaimed.

                Aedain acted on instinct – he whirled around, drawing his sword Sholais. As he moved, the pain in his side flared again, reminding him how much he was injured.

                “What…” Aedain uttered, startled, looking at the corpses of the fallen enemies. Much to his horror, the fire erupted from the carcasses. He squinted his eyes. When the flames subsided, the bodies of the red-haired creatures were whole again, without a slightest mark of the lethal injuries, Aedain inflicted. Both gracefully landed back on their feet, identical smiles adorning their sickeningly perfect faces.

                “You will have to try harder to injure us,” the duo said in one voice.

                Aedain took a step back, his confidence shattering. His thoughts began racing through his mind: he had done his best to defeat them, used all the strength he had and yet those monsters healed like it was nothing. What was he supposed to do now? He could use only one arm; the broken ribs slowed his movements… only one thing remained.

                The black-haired man hid Sholais in its sheath and took a step back. Blood in his veins was pulsing when the transformation began. Suddenly immense pain swept through his body, making the aching ribs pale in comparison. It lasted for only a brief moment though – soon enough his bones changed their shape; the skin hardened as he assumed the shape he was born with.

                The crimson dragon roared, challenging his opponents. He didn’t waste his time and strength on pointless dance – he breathed fire onto those two pests who refused to die. Surprisingly enough, the twins didn’t make a move to avoid the fire – they let themselves be engulfed in the raging flames. Aedain roared with anger when he saw that his dragon fire didn’t inflict any damage on the duo.

                 The red-haired adversaries laughed lightly and counterattacked. A rain of blows and kicks fell on Aedain from all directions. The enemies’ speed and strength were so great, that he could barely defend himself. Every attempt to ward them off with his tail, rip them apart with the jaws or claws came simply too late and was in vain. Aedain sent a wave of fire once again and regretted it soon enough. The deadly duo simply absorbed the flames and their speed increased, giving the dragon no chance to keep up with them. He took one blow after another, not making any move to parry them.

                When one of the twins rushed to attack him once again, Aedain did the only thing he could – he assumed his human-like form, becoming a smaller target. He landed upon the ground, but his legs weren’t able to support his weight anymore. He fell to the dirt limply, breathing with effort. Blood obscured his vision. His body was broken and bleeding, there was no more power in his muscles. Nevertheless, Aedain slowly began pulling himself up, groaning from the unbearable pain.

                “He is still alive!” one of the red-haired men mocked the dragon, approaching him.

                “It is time to change it,” the other enemy said, looking at Aedain with amusement. He readied himself to charge at the wounded dragon, but suddenly froze. He withdrew his attention from Aedain, gazing north. “It seems that Master has grown impatient.”

                Aedain coughed, spitting blood, and drew his sword. He glared at his opponents, refusing to go down without his dignity. His armor was in pieces, a pool of blood forming beneath his feet. The right arm hung limply, the formerly injured shoulder dislocated. His skin became bluish from all the bruises. Despite his pitiful condition, the dragon assumed a battle stance. He was born to be a warrior, and if he had to die here, so be it, but he wanted to do it fighting. Aedain’s dulled senses barely detected another powerful presence approaching.

                The demon heard a characteristic sound of swinging of leathery wings. Half-expecting the newcomer to be Baltar, Aedain whirled around. However, the tiniest spark of hope died within his heart when the person turned out not to be his faithful comrade, but a stranger – the one who sent the flaming indestructible creatures here. A winged dragon landed between the twin fire warriors, who bowed their heads respectfully before him and stepped back, leaving their master with Aedain. The beast shrunk, shifting its shape into a form of the human-like disguise.

                “Looks you have only one arm left to hold a sword, son of Kaellach,” the stranger said in a raspy voice which sounded so raw as though the man had his throat slit. 

                Aedain narrowed his eyes, observing the new enemy, but it was hard to tell if he met him before or not for man had a dark, grey cloth draped around his rather short frame. His face was hidden, but Aedain had a feeling that the man’s presence was familiar; it seemed to link with the memories of years long gone.

                “You have grown, Aedain,” the stranger said, removing his hood and revealing his face.

The face of the man before Aedain looked like from a nightmare, monstrously disfigured barely resembling a face at all. The skin looked like melted wax. Instead of the nose and ears, there were only hollow holes, the skull was hairless, bearing the marks of severe burns. Thick scars were a final touch to the mask of a massacred man.

                Aedain furrowed his brows, searching his memory, but the stranger was not familiar at all. He was certain that such face would be remembered.

                “Mind telling me who the hell you are?” Aedain coughed out, struggling to straighten his back.

                The stranger chuckled.

                “So you don’t even recognize me,” he stated, shaking his head and smiling in a way, which could be considered friendly under different circumstances. “Well, I don’t blame you – after all I was much more handsome before my dear friend Kaellach almost killed me.”

                Aedain snorted.

                “Poor you then,” the demon prince mocked the opponent. “I still don’t get it what your misfortune has to do with me. ”

                The stranger smiled widely, taking a step toward Aedain.

                “You see, Aedain, I swore to myself to destroy everything your father held dear: his precious peace treaty, his kingdom, his family. It seems that you are the last on my list, so unfortunately you will have to die in a moment,” the man said, his voice calm.

                “You talk like that deranged Zhawn,” Aedain gritted his teeth, glaring at the opponent. When his father’s old enemy’s name rolled off his tongue, a realization hit the dragon prince with full strength. Those scars, the burns… they matched perfectly to the injuries the late King Kaellach inflicted on his greatest adversary - Zhawn. But… Aedain set his gaze at the stranger, searching his distorted face for Zhawn’s features. “My father killed Zhawn eight decades ago. You can’t be him.”

                The stranger snapped his fingers.

                “Surprise!” he exclaimed. “It seems I outlived Kaellach after all. And I have every intention to outlive you too, Aedain. Now, let’s get it over with. I don’t have the whole day to waste on you.”

                Zhawn stretched his fingers and clenched his fists, reading to advance on Aedain bare-handed. One swift jump and he was at the dragon prince’s side already.

                Aedain lifted his sword, but he was too slow; Zhawn effortlessly snatched his wrist and twisted it. The dragon prince yelled from pain. Sholais’s handle slipped out of his fingers. He laughed and gave the arm a yank. Aedain hissed, as he had been forced to his knees. His torturer grabbed his arm with both hands and began squeezing it. Aedain was yelling as the bones were shattering.

                Aedain was barely conscious when he felt strong fingers close on his throat. Suddenly, they dug into the skin of his neck, cutting off the air. Aedain’s vision darkened as his life began abandoning him. The pain was getting duller, more distant as numbness overcame him. The spark of life was fading.

                Suddenly, a whiz resounded through the air as something flew toward Zhawn. The enemy abruptly turned in that direction, leaving Aedain to fall limply to the ground.

                The red-haired fire creatures jumped to shield their master from the new threat.

                “Who is tha…” one of them began, but his words were cut off as his head fell to the ground.

                The other twin gasped and assumed a defensive stance, but the returning axe swept his head off his neck as well...

                “Get away from the prince,” the newcomer said to Zhawn, his fingers sliding over his bald head.

                Erik’s honey-colored eyes widened, when he recognized the man.

                “That’s Baltar!” he whispered to Lavena.

                Baltar skillfully snatched the returning battle axe and weighed it in his hands, looking at the half-conscious Aedain, who was laying in the pool of his own blood, injured and defeated. The bald man narrowed his eyes at Zhawn. Baltar paled a little, obviously recognizing the enemy from the war long ago, but kept his composure.

                “I’m gonna kill you for that,” he suddenly yelled and rushed straight at Zhawn, running past the headless red-haired duo.

                Baltar attacked Zhawn fiercely, expertly operating with his weapon, dodging swiftly as for a man his size. He managed to drag the adversary away from Aedain, constantly parrying blows and kicks while trying to get through the enemy’s defense and kill him. The bald demon was focused on his opponent, withstanding his speed and overwhelming force. However, he didn’t notice something else.

                Aedain moaned, barely feeling all his limbs through the excruciating pain; in his condition, every breath was a challenge. A flash of light woke him from the numb state of half-death. He struggled to open his eyes; the eyelids felt as they were heavy like boulders. His vision was blurry, but he saw his comrade Baltar fighting Zhawn. He was doing fairly well, but Aedain could tell that he wouldn’t last very long now. He used all his willpower to lift himself to the sitting position. It was more difficult than it seemed; his left arm was nothing but a shapeless bloody pulp now while the right shoulder was dislocated. Panting heavily, Aedain lifted his gaze.

                A gasp stuck in his throat when the demon saw one of the red-haired monsters attach the cut off head back on its place and leap onto Baltar from behind.

                “Watch out!” Aedain yelled, his voice raspy, but it was already too late for his comrade.

                Baltar received a heavy kick in his head and was sent flying in the rumble. He wasn’t moving for a while, until his fingers twitched. The cruel duo was already walking in his direction, about to finish him off.

                Aedain clenched his teeth, eying  his sword Sholais, which was laying right beside him. If only he had an arm to wield it… the twins were almost at Baltar’s side.

                He braced himself and with all his strength, he slammed himself into a fragment of a wall behind his back. His head was spinning from the pain, but he repeated the movement. This time he heard a characteristic sound as his joint popped into the right place. He snatched the sword and somehow got on his feet.

                “Your fight is with me!” he called to the red-haired creatures.

                Both spun around, genuinely surprised that Aedain was still willing to fight. They exchanged serious looks before smirking evilly.

                “As you wish,” they chanted in a chorus.

                “No!” Zhawn interrupted his minions, clenching his fist. “He’s mine.”

                Lavena brought Erik closer, covering the child’s eyes as Zhawn attacked Aedain. The dark-haired man tried to fight back, but he didn’t stand a chance against his father’s old enemy. For some time Zhawn was dancing around, toying with Aedain and sending him mocking blows. Then Zhawn reached for a short, triangular dagger he had at his hip. The razor-sharp blade gleamed in the light of sun. Smirking cruelly, he slashed across Aedain’s chest, carving a deep wound into his flesh. The dragon prince fell into dirt, his chest rising less with every breath. He coughed blood one last time, his eyes becoming glassy. Finally, he ceased breathing and stilled.

                Erik peeked from under Lavena’s shoulder, her eyes widening in terror when she saw Aedain’s motionless form.

                “Kaellach, I took everything you loved from you, just as you did it to me, ” Zhawn said and shook the droplets of Aedain’s blood from his fingers. “I had my revenge.”

The Lost Legend

Baltimore, Maryland

                May rolled in the bed and looked at the clock. It was 2 a.m. She sat up and looked at Hailey, who slept next to her, curled into a ball. May smiled at how well her younger sister slept. She had tried to get a decent rest, but the sleep refused to grace her tonight; she kept imagining how her parents would react once they came home. Would they greet her, happy that she was alive? Maybe they’d take her for a ghost who returned to haunting them, or they would simply chase her away and call a fraud. Surely, it would be quite a traumatic experience for both.

                May sighed. Either way, she had to face her mom and dad tomorrow. She gave up on her attempts to fall asleep tonight, deciding that doing something useful would be a good therapy right now.

                May went downstairs and roamed around the house, finding every detail, just as she remembered  it. The glimpse of the moon from the kitchen window made May’s thoughts wander toward the Callesmere Empire; she would never see two moons dancing around each other again. May smiled to herself, touching the sapphire necklace, she was wearing. It appeared that after tonight, the threat of Aedain declaring a war upon humanity would cease to exist. Messing with his plans brought her some satisfaction and made her mood considerably better.

                May grabbed a swifer. She began humming some melody she picked up recently from Erik and started washing the tiles in the kitchen, making them shine. The monotonous movements with the swifer made her thoughts drift away from the pressing issue of meeting her parents tomorrow and shifted to her friends in the Callesmere Empire. She sincerely hoped that after Aedain realized he couldn’t get the Spear he would set Erik free.

                May felt pain in her heart, when she thought about the boy, she had abandoned. With every passing minute the pain of parting was stronger until she realized, that it wasn’t quite it. May stopped cleaning and straightened her back. There was definitely a burning sensation in the vicinity of her heart, but it wasn’t emotional – it was physical. She looked down and gazed at her chest. The sapphire resting between her breasts seemed to be brighter than usual – or was it her imagination? May slowly touched the gem and almost immediately pulled her fingers back, feeling the strange sensation. Then, she hesitantly closed the sapphire in her palm. There was no doubt about it – the crystal was warm, not of the temperature of her body, but considerably warmer. And it pulsed.

                “Oh, crap,” May muttered, slamming her hand against her forehead.

                She was an idiot; she was positive she was one. The sapphire necklace was a memento after Erik, her only link to the boy, but because of that, May completely ignored the tiny detail that it was a magical item. Now the pendant was painfully reminding her of its true nature as it was getting hotter.

                I need to take the damn thing off, May thought, and grabbed the golden chain.

                “Ouch!” she exclaimed as a bolt of electricity shot through her body.

                She touched the chain again, but the artifact shocked her again and this time it was even more painfully.

                “Electricity…” May was talking to herself as she searched for some isolator to take the necklace off. If it was shocking her, she needed something like rubber… she hastily grabbed a pair of thick rubber gloves, used for scrubbing things, and put them on. Geared up, she attempted to take the pendant off once more.

                May gasped from the sharp pain, when her whole body felt like it was on fire. She realized, that the laws of physics didn’t apply to the magical artifacts. Nevertheless, she wasn’t giving up in her attempts to remove the damn thing. Unfortunately, all her efforts were fruitless no matter how hard she tried. May even stood on her hands so that the gravity would do its job, but that didn’t help either – the necklace was constantly refusing to leave her neck. With every attempt to get rid of it, it shocked her stronger and stronger until the pain was unbearable, and she gave up on trying.

                She leaned against the wall, resigned. She couldn’t take the necklace off, but there was something else that was worrying her even more; the gem’s pulsing got more distinct and its temperature rose, now nearly burning May’s skin.

                Not knowing what to do, she headed for the stairs, wanting to get Hailey to help. However, when she made a few steps more, the sapphire began pulsing violently and got so hot that May stumbled backward, hissing from the pain. As she made a few steps back, the horrible sensation subsided.

                “What the heck do you want from me?” May asked the gem, but it was silent, as expected from a stone.

                Carefully, she made a step forward, but the sapphire began burning her again. May instantly corrected her mistake and stepped back. She furrowed her brows, turned around and made a few more steps in the opposite direction than where the stairs was. The gem was getting cooler, but the blue glow grew stronger. She made one step more and the glow subsided, while the temperature rose. May attempted turning left, and the sapphire cooled again.

                “It’s like a game.” She guessed, discovering that the pendant was reacting accordingly to where she went, as though it wanted to guide her somewhere. But where?

                Guided by the changes in the gem’s temperature and the glow, May made her way through the hallway, then down the basement stairs and continued the walk between the all-present antiques stored there. With each step, the sapphire was glowing more, now shining like a torchlight. May was so absorbed by following the necklace’s directions, that she didn’t pay much attention to where she was going.

                Then, she found herself in a dead end. No matter where she wanted to go, the sapphire was burning her. May looked in front of herself. She was standing before a ceramic sculpture. It was two meters tall and depicted a man, a warrior. The man’s face was solemn, determined. The sculpture was very detailed, showing each braid in his long beard, each element of his heavy-looking armor. It was an amazing piece of art, one of best things her dad managed to buy. May stepped closer to the sculpture and ran her fingers over it. The flow of time showed on the ceramic surface, it was rough, but seemed fragile at the same time.

                May knocked on the sculpture and heard a hollow sound, as though the inside of the sculpture was empty.

                “No kidding,” she muttered, feeling excitement rising in her chest. It was as though she was about to discover something – the pendant brought her here not without a reason. She doubted that it wanted the sculpture itself, but if it was hollow… in movies, precious items were often hidden inside the sculptures.

                May winced from pain, as the sapphire pulsated again, as though hurrying her.

                “Here goes nothing!” she said and began pushing the sculpture. The piece of ceramic swayed before it fell from its pedestal, shattering into pieces.

                May bent over the mess and searched for the mysterious object which was supposed to be hidden. To her surprise, something really was there. Holding her breath, she reached out for something, which looked like a piece of wood, like a pole. She tugged it, but it was heavy. May grabbed it with both of her hands and gasped, staring at what she was holding.

                A spear.

                She was holding a perfectly preserved spear. It was unbelievable, but the wooden pole wasn’t rotten and there wasn’t even a trace of rust on the pike, which looked like it was still razor-sharp. The weapon was six feet long and heavy, so May put it aside.

                Another thing caught her attention. She picked up one of the pieces of the shattered sculpture. The shards had drawings on the inside, like someone put a comic story inside the sculpture. More and more intrigued, May gazed at one of the pictures. She saw the figure of a bearded man, wielding a spear, and fighting a dragon which was attacking him. May knelt on the floor and began putting the pieces together, looking at the drawings. Other fragments depicted fighting men and fantastic creatures of all shapes imaginable, some looking strangely familiar.

                “It must be a joke,” May whispered to herself and began arranging the ceramic pieces on the ground, the way the cracks were fitting each other. It took her some time, but puzzles were always her strength. Once done, she sat on her heels and looked at the ancient comic story.

                There were pictures showing ships sailing through a vast sea, then a battle with the monstrous creatures. The most of the attention was drawn toward the man from the sculpture and the dragon. May saw the scenes of their fight, their death and the funeral. Then followed the pictures of two men hiding the spear in the ceramic sculpture. The next images were strange: May could make out the characteristic triangular mirror and the sapphire necklace.

                She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, keeping her cool. She knew this story, the one depicted on the ceramic pieces. She heard it from Baltar, and every single detail matched. She glanced at the spear.

                “No way,” she muttered. “I found the Dragonslayer’s Spear.”

                May was sitting motionless, staring at the broken statue and the Spear which turned out to be the very same weapon, Aedain was looking for. To think that it was in her own basement all the time… Unbelievable. However, May had to admit, that the guardians were quite creative, hiding the Spear inside a sculpture.

                It was a disturbing coincidence that May had to be the one to find the damn thing. Her bad luck for attracting all kinds of suspicious artifacts seemed to be almost supernatural.

                Thinking that now, when she found the Spear, the pendant wouldn’t bug her anymore, she stood up and was about to run upstairs, away from magical spears. However, the burning pain on her chest prevented her from doing so. Every step away from the Spear meant torture. Resigned, May returned to the weapon and lifted it. Holding  the pole tightly, she began walking. To her surprise, the sapphire did nothing to stop her. She ran upstairs.

                “HAILEY!” she yelled.

                Hailey who was standing on the top of the stairs, probably woken up by the commotion, stared at May – the girl looked agitated and was holding a six-feet long spear in her hands.

                “May, what do you need that for?” Hailey asked, yawning.

                May looked at her sister.

                “Please help me,” she whimpered. “I can’t free myself from that thing!”

                Hailey jumped to their feet, alarmed, and ran downstairs. Perhaps other people would take it for a joke, but Hailey had already some experience with magical items snatching away May from their house and wasn’t going to ignore a potentially dangerous situation. She hurried to May and gripped the pole with both of her hands.

                “Let go off it,” she said and May did as Hailey said; she flexed her fingers.

                However, when the younger girl was taking the Spear away, the sapphire necklace shocked May, making her bend in half from the pain.

                “May, what’s happening?” Hailey cried, scared.

                May reached for the Spear.

                “Give it back,” she managed to utter, barely able to speak from the pain, that was getting more intense.

                Hailey quickly returned the Spear to May. Once her fingers entwined the pole, pain vanished without a trace. May straightened her back and leaned on the Spear like on a staff.

                “I can’t leave it,” she stated the obvious, terrified by the situation.

                Hailey looked like they were on the brink of panicking.

                “What should we do?” the younger girl exclaimed. She took a couple of deep breaths and managed to calm herself. “I’ll think of something. I always do.”

                Soon both sisters were sitting in the living room, brainstorming. May was getting gloomier, as none of them came to a conclusion, which made sense. The whole time she was sitting with the six-feet long spear on her lap.

                “Maybe we should call dad,” Hailey suggested as she ran out of the ideas. “If someone can know a thing about magical items, it’s him.”

                May nodded. She wished to avoid this at all costs, but there was no other way.

                “Right, let’s ca…” May stopped in mid sentence when she felt the pendant warming up again, just like before. Alarmed, she clutched it and felt it pulsing slightly. The sensation was faint, but she knew that it was about to get stronger and more painful soon. Her breathing hitched; she was scared of what the artifact would want from her this time. Then, she felt a stab of pain.

                Hailey fell silent as May whimpered, pressing her hand to the chest.

                “May, what’s happening?” the younger girl asked nervously, standing up.

                May winced, feeling the necklace burning her skin.

                “I think it wants to go somewhere,” she uttered; May didn’t expect that the burning would intensify so quickly.

                “Where?” Hailey asked quietly.

                May opened her mouth to answer, but then the excruciating pain shot through her body. She felt her sister yank her up.

                “Which way?” Hailey asked.

                The sapphire’s glow led the way as May, supported by her sister, made her way to the basement. The pain was still present, as though urging May to hurry up, but it lessened as she was moving in the right direction. The two of them went into basement  filled with chests and antiques. The gem nearly pulled May towards the far corner of the room, to the place, where a particular crate was.

                May and the Hailey inhaled sharply, knowing what was in the chest. Hailey opened it with shaking hands.

                “No!” the younger girl cried, hiding her face in her palms.

                May felt her heart sink when she took a look inside the chest. The triangular mirror laid inside, but it didn’t look like a mirror at all. The girl couldn’t see her reflection in it; instead, she saw a white mist, swirling as though it was alive. The surface of the mirror looked like a veil, and that was precisely what the white mist was – the Veil separating the worlds. The passageway was open.

                Hailey was staring into the mirror too. She bit her lower lip, glancing at May.

                “I think, that the necklace wants to travel to the other side,” May said quietly.

                Hailey shook her head, her blonde locks flying around her head.

                “No, you can’t go! You just came back, don’t leave!” Hailey clutched May’s arm, desperation in her eyes.

                May smiled faintly, but the smile became replaced with a grimace of pain as the sapphire necklace was urging her to carry the spear to the world beyond the Veil. If she wanted the pain to stop, she had to leave home and head back to the world of the Callesmere Empire. If only… if only she could see mom and dad once again, only once… talk to them, hear their voices… have the chance to say good-bye.

                Fighting with the overwhelming, burning pain, May gave Hailey one more smile, not wanting her little sister to remember her with a scowl on her face.

                “Hailey, listen, you have to take good care of our parents,” May said, holding back her tears with all her willpower. “And don’t cry, it’s not like I’m dead.”

                Hailey wiped the tears from her face and nodded. A miserable sob shook her body, but she flexed her fingers, freeing May’s arm. Her lips were shivering, but she smiled too, determined to see her older sister off with a smile.

                “I… I love you, sis. Stay alive,” Hailey whispered.

                “I love you too, Hailey,” May said, taking a step toward the mirror. She winced when the pain intensified, as if the necklace was hurrying her to get to the other side already.

                “We will meet again. I promise,” May said to Hailey and jumped.

The Ashes

Riada Swamp, the Callesmere Empire

                “Take these people to Orvik. And turn this area into ashes,” Zhawn said to his minions, looking at Aedain’s corpse.

                “With pleasure, master,” one of the twin creatures replied, curling the corners of his mouth upwards in a delighted smile. He observed Zhawn and his brother leaving, carrying the unconscious bodies of the witch, the Guardian and that pathetic dragon Baltar. Thinking of dragons… the elegant man glanced briefly at the corpse of the son of Kaellach, and his smile grew, the pleasurable sight fueling the yearning for destruction. He stretched his fingers and let the flames engulf his whole body. Feeling the surge of energy, he set off to purge this peaceful place of all living creatures until only ashes remained.

                Enticed by the wonderful sight of the lives he extinguished, the lovely melody of pained screams and begging for life, the monstrous creature barely noticed the strange disturbance in the air. He stopped in midair, distracted by a sensation that was like a jolt of electricity.

                “What is that?” he wondered, setting his gaze on the source of the anomaly – it was the remnants of Lavena’s tower. Intrigued by it, he floated closer. A surprised sound escaped its throat when it saw a silvery puddle forming on the bottom of the ruined chamber. The surface was like a mirror – it reflected the sky and the silhouette of the fire creature. But, after a while it went opaque and was resembling smoke. Interested and somewhat excited, he drifted closer to it. He landed right outside the edge of the mysterious puddle and waited.

                May drifted through the airless darkness. The space between the worlds was cold and unwelcoming, but she felt a ghost of a touch on her hand; the same one Hailey held only second ago. It was like a gentle brush; the sensation vanished as quickly as it appeared, subjecting her to the chill. Here, engulfed by the Veil, she felt lonely as never before. Lonely and confused, as there was no point of reference – the darkness was so absolute that that she couldn’t even see outlines or shadowy shapes.

                The cold and the lack of light were disturbing, they made a brief moment drag on like eternity. When she couldn’t hold her breath anymore, May opened her mouth and gasped for air, but there was none. Her heart began pumping her blood through her veins erratically, she could hear nothing but her pulse. The sound of her heat became deafening. She panicked; her lungs started hurting, her palms were sweating as she longed for oxygen.

                Suddenly, a bright light blinded her. Truthfully, it was only a dim glow of starts above her, but compared to the darkness of the Veil it seemed like a sun. She was thrown out of the portal brutally; when she fell back down on the stone surface, she yelped. May sharply inhaled the air; her head spun when oxygen finally filled her lungs. She was coughing and drawing the shallow breaths erratically, as though someone could take the air away in any moment.

                After the trip between the worlds, she felt worn out; her limbs trembled and she couldn’t breathe calmly. Clumsily, she pulled herself up to a sitting position, but suddenly, something heavy slammed into her, sending her flat on her back again. May groaned; she just smacked the back of her head against the stone floor, adding yet another bruise to the collection. Something heavy shifted on the top of her.

                ”Ugh,” she muttered, pushing whatever hit her off herself. As soon the mysterious object rolled onto the floor beside her, it talked.

                “I’m not a sack of potatoes!”

                May’s eyes snapped open when she heard an awfully familiar, querulous voice. She stiffened.

                I must be hallucinating, she thought. At least she wished she was just confused after going through the portal. Slowly, she turned her head to look at the owner of the voice, dreading the truth. Instantly, she squeezed her eyes shut, praying for the horrifying illusion to be gone once she opened them up. However, it didn’t. May felt as though the whole blood in her veins just turned into ice.

                “Hailey,” she whispered, barely believing that what she had before her eyes was real.

                Her younger sister was laying beside her. With her long blonde scattered around her head, she could look like an angel if not for the wrinkled T-shirt and a pair of skimpy shorts. May instantly sat up and pinched Hailey’s cheek to make sure she was genuine, not some figment of imagination.

                “Hey! What are you doing?!” Her younger sister protested, slapping her hand and glaring at her in a scolding way with that azure eyes of hers.

                May felt emotions build within her – first there was a shock, but it quickly made the place to worry and anger. Seeing her little sister here, in the world of the Callesmere Empire, was like a nightmare come true. Being in this place was horrifying enough; dragging a beloved person along was taking the terror to a whole new level.

                She snatched a handful of Hailey’s golden hair and pulled it slightly.

                “Why the hell did you follow me here?!” May yelled into her sister’s face, releasing her frustration and fear. “You should have let me go alone!”

                Hailey opened her mouth and closed, as though she couldn’t find the right words. Her eyes darted sideways and she had this blank, dumb look on her face May couldn’t recognize at first.

                “Do you have any idea how dangerous this world is?!” May continued her tirade. “What were you thinking? And you were supposed to be the smarter one! Do you know what it will do to our parents when they come home, and you’ll be missing? Losing me might have been a blow, but losing you will kill them!”

                May paused, drawing another breath and preparing herself to continue berating Hailey for her recklessness. However, when she looked at the peculiar expression on her sister’s face, she fell silent for good. Finally, she understood why she found the look in Hailey’s eyes so odd. She had never before seen her sister shocked and so scared. The younger girl’s breaths were quick and shallow, her gaze unfocused; in this moment, the ever-confident Hailey looked like a small, fearful child.

                “Hailey, are you alright?” May put her hand on her shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. Hailey looked her in the eye and gave her a nervous smile; her full lips were trembling.

                “No, I’m not,” she whispered. “May, what are we going to do now?”

                May shifted, feeling uncomfortable while Hailey was staring at her expectantly, silently pleading for help. It was an unexpected change – as her younger sister never felt vulnerable, May wasn’t used to a role of a protective older sibling. If only it was possible, May would shove Hailey through that cursed portal back into safety. However, there was no way back now – the passageway between the worlds closed; the puddle of silvery liquid returned to its place in the triangular frame of the tall mirror. They would have to stay in the Callesmere Empire. Nevertheless, the responsibility for not only hers, but also Hailey’s life was a great incentive to think out a solution.

                After glancing at her terrified sibling, May knew that she would have to be the one to find the way out. Right now, the new situation overwhelmed Hailey, she needed to be taken care of. Clenching her fists, May made her resolution – she would lead them home.

                “Don’t worry, we still have a chance to go home,” May said quickly, trying to make her voice sound confident. “There’s a second portal called Uaimth Dorchadais. Fortunately for us, it can be opened during the lunar eclipse, and it’s soon.”

                Hailey released the breath she was holding, sighing with a faint relief.

                “When that eclipse will take place?” she asked with a hopeful smile, but May extinguished her enthusiasm right away.

                “In a year.”

                “What?” Hailey gasped, her blue eyes widening in terror. “A whole year? But…”

                May cracked a humorless smile and patted her sister’s back.

                “If you’re worrying about the school, don’t bother. It’s just only one year. If it’s any consolation, the next opportunity won’t happen until three centuries from now, so we’re quite lucky,” she said, wanting to cheer Hailey up. However, her efforts didn’t seem to be successful – her sister clutched her head, as though she was keeping a horrible migraine at bay. She began muttering curses; tears were already welling in her eyes.

                May sighed, feeling pity for her. She precisely knew how hard it was on Hailey right now – she went through the same shock a Callesmeran month ago, which was an equivalent of about fifty Earth days. All her sister needed at the moment, was a while to figure it out for herself. In the meantime, it was up to her to lead them home. All they needed was the portal, which was somewhere in Teig, the Key on her neck and the spell. She stiffened when her thoughts drifted toward the enchantment. Suddenly, she remembered witch Lavena and little Erik. May stiffened; because of the commotion with her sister, she completely forgot about them.

                “Hold it, Hailey,” she said, handing her sister the damn Spear. Hailey took it hesitantly.

                “Are you sure it’s safe?” she asked.

                May didn’t answer her right away. Instead, she took a good look around – the passageway between two worlds closed already, cutting off the path leading home. She stood up, and Hailey followed her like a puppy. What was once the cellar of Lavena’s tower, now looked like a crater – the building over the chamber existed no more. A pile of debris mixed with miscellaneous items like clothes or pieces of furniture surrounded the high triangular mirror. What had happened here while she was on Earth?

                “Erik, Lavena,” May whispered, searching for any sign of the witch or the boy. She screamed as loud as her lungs allowed her to: “Erik!”

                However, no one answered her call. May began behaving frantically; where was the boy? “I think we’re here alone,” Hailey spoke up, staring at the remnants of the tower all around them.

                May blinked and stared into the sky above; the stars were shining brightly, but they weren’t the sole source of light illuminating the surroundings. There was a reddish glow around her, and she distinctly heard the characteristic crackling of the flames.

                Fire!

                “Hailey, stay here!” she called to her sister.

                “But…” Hailey protested, reluctant to leave May’s side.

                May sighed, trying to have more patience for her sister.

                “I’ll be right back. You’ll be fine; it will be only a few minutes and you’ll still be able to see me from here,” May assured Hailey. Once the younger of the girls nodded, she made her way toward what remained of the tower’s walls.

She looked up at the sky illuminated by the subsiding glow of flames. Clenching her teeth, May climbed up out of the cellar’s remnants. When she managed to peek out from the hole in the ground, her heart stopped from shock.

                “No,” May whispered to herself, seeing all the death and destruction.

                The once peaceful valley became one huge cemetery. Everything was razed to the ground; the sanctuary of the Riada Swamp existed no more. The lush fields, orchards, houses, barns and a good portion of the forest was completely burnt, turning into ash. There was no way anyone survived such a terrible purge: every soul in the heart of the Riada Swamp was eradicated. Was it Aedain’s work?

                May squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to take the terrible sight in anymore. The tragedy which occurred here was horrifying, but her thoughts were circling Erik and Lavena. Where were they? Were they dead or perhaps they somehow survived? A dreadful thought crept into her mind – what of Aedain murdered them? No, it was too cruel to be true. May shook her head, refusing to believe her eyes. Her whole body was numb from shock.

                “May?” She heard Hailey’s strangled cry. She rolled her eyes as she was in no mood to cheer her sister up right now. She had far greater worries at the moment.

                “Hailey, could you be quiet for a minute?” she called, annoyance ringing in her voice. She wanted to add some snappy remark, just to discharge her fear.

                However, what she saw, made her suck in her breath. Hailey was standing at the bottom of the collapsed tower, but she wasn’t alone. Before her stood an unfamiliar creature who was literally on fire. His silhouette was humanoid; it seemed as though the man was made of flames. He stepped toward her sister, tilting his head and observing the blonde girl curiously. The fire subsided, and a perfectly smooth skin emerged; the monster assumed an appearance of an unbelievably beautiful boy.

                “Is that not the Dragonslayer’s Spear you have there?” he asked her in a creepily smooth voice.

                Hailey gulped and didn’t answer him. She brought the Spear closer to her chest and stepped backwards, shivering like a leaf in the wind. With her eyes blankly staring at the flaming man, she looked helpless like a deer in the headlights.

                May cursed inwardly as fear for her sister bolted through her mind. She began climbing down as fast as she could. Her sweaty hands and feet kept slipping off the unsteady surface, but she was almost sliding down, not caring for her own safety. 

                The youth extended his elegant hand toward terrified Hailey.

                “Give me the Spear,” he said, slowly approaching her. The blonde girl kept retreating until her back met a solid wall. Her knees were buckling; the droplets of cold sweat developed on her forehead and temples. The mysterious creature’s eyes ever left her own. “If you give it to me now, I will spare your life.”

                Hailey hyperventilated. She stood frozen, clutching the Spear as though it had the power to ward off the evil. In this moment, she looked like a helpless mouse in front of a viper. The Spear slipped out of her sweaty, shaking hands, but she clutched it before it fell to the ground. She stared at the youth blankly.

                “May?” she called faintly, her voice trembling. “What does he want from me?”

                May paused climbing down and furrowed her brows, not knowing what Hailey meant by that. Then, it dawned onto her – perhaps her sister didn’t understand the language. It seemed that she had the basic memories of Lady Maewyn, but Hailey was completely an outsider.

                “Give him the Spear!” May yelled. Hailey looked at her hesitantly. May gulped, hearing her heart beat like a drum. The unyielding look in the creature’s eyes indicated that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her sister, if she didn’t give him the Spear. There wasn’t a single person around who could help them out, and she was certain she wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight against him. Under the particular circumstances, his offer couldn’t be rejected. It was either that or Hailey's life. May bit her lower lip, “Hailey, just throw him the damn Spear!”

                Hailey nodded swiftly.

                “Here!” She threw the Spear right into the flaming creature’s hands. The man engulfed in fire offered her a dazzling smile.

                “Thank you,” he replied, his smile even growing. “You will go with me as well.”

                May’s jaw went slack as the mere sentence had such impact on her as though she was struck with a lightning. Hailey looked at her helplessly, waiting for her to translate the stranger’s words. The look on May’s face must have been enough for the younger girl to understand that the situation turned for worse. She yelped and finally started running away from the red-haired youth, like she unfroze just now.

May slid down the debris, almost twisting her ankles, but she didn’t care. When she glanced over her shoulder, she saw the red-haired youth snatch struggling Hailey and throw her over his shoulder. The blonde girl was whacking her attacker with her fists, but they inflicted no damage.

                “Let me go!” she screamed. “May, help me!”

                May fell once she landed on the cellar’s floor, but she jumped to her feet right away and sprinted toward her sister. The youth’s feet turned into flames, and before she could make it to Hailey, he leapt into the sky.

                “Hailey!” May desperately her sister’s name as the unknown monster carried her upwards. He flew so fast that soon he turned into a small glowing dot on the night sky. May instinctively ran to climb the debris with the will to follow him. However, once she reached the destroyed tower walls, the flaming man and Hailey were already gone. Not even a tiny spark was visible on the western sky.

                May was breathing hard for a longer while after he had left, her hands shaking. She covered her mouth with her palm, trying not to hyperventilate. Her sister, Hailey, was gone! May didn’t know who was her kidnapper or where she was taken. What was she supposed to do now? She blocked out the obvious conclusion – that she could never see her little sister again. Feeling a wave of nausea hit her, May pressed her shaking hand to her mouth. She had to get Hailey back, there had to be a way.

                “Think, May, think,” she muttered to herself, lowering her trembling hand. However, no matter how hard she tried to come up with a solution, her mind was blank. The horrifying thoughts about her sister’s fate didn’t let her focus.

                May shook her head, clenching her fists so forcefully that her fingernails dug into the inside if her palms. Her breaths were erratic, shallow, panicked. She held the air in and then slowly, exhaled, telling herself that she couldn’t let the fear control her. If she gave in to the despair, who would save Hailey? Feeling another attack of nausea, she stumbled back, her eyes set on the inert portal.

                Just when she made a few steps backwards, her foot slipped and May landed hard on the debris filled floor. Somehow she managed to stay on her feet; she felt her shoes stepping on something wet and sticky. She glanced down. May lifted her hand to cover her mouth, not to scream.

                Blood.

                May was standing in a puddle of crimson liquid. Slowly, she turned around to see where all that blood came from. She felt a wave of nausea wash over her as she stared at a still form before her eyes. She barely recognized who was laying on the stone floor in the pool of his own blood. It was Aedain; his armor had been shattered to pieces. His whole body bore marks of deeply carved wounds and dark bruises. His skin lost its original color; it was ghostly pale now. May saw that he was still clutching a sword in his hand, an evidence that he didn’t go down without a fight.

                Hesitating, May took a step toward the lifeless body of the demon she used to fear so much. Aedain wasn’t moving; his chest was still. Was he… was he dead? She inhaled sharply. A tiny voice in the back of her head was nagging her to check if he was really dead. May kneeled down at his side.

                “Aedain,” she called his name, unsure whether she wanted him actually to respond. When there was no response from the demon, she shouted: “Aedain!”

                This time there was no response as well. Biting her lower lip, May prepared herself to check the demon’s pulse even though she didn’t really expect to find it; she was sure he was as dead as one could possibly be.

                Just when she was leaning over him, May noticed a movement with a corner of her eye. She wrinkled her forehead - she could swear that Aedain’s finger moved. She held her breath and stared at the body in front of her. Was it her imagination or his chest was slightly moving upwards? Quickly, she pressed two fingers to the right spot on his neck and stilled, waiting.

                There it was! The pulse was very faint, but it was definitely there!

                May gasped and sat back on her heels, looking at Aedain, while there was an internal battle raging inside her head. The demon was somehow still alive, but it was clear that he was dying. What should she do? Should she help him? Even so, her fear of the ruthless man was still vivid in May’s memory. She knew that preventing him from dying would be a right thing to do, but a part of her wanted just to leave him to bleed to death slowly; the world would be a better place without an evil being like him. May shook her head, mentally berating herself for even having such thoughts. Acting like that would make her equal with a killer Aedain was, and she didn’t want to be anything like him. Maybe Aedain was an ass and tried to kill her, but there was no way, that she would leave anyone in such a state.

                Then, one more reason for keeping him alive appeared in May’s mind – he was the sole witness of what had transpired here. He might know who the flaming man was. She suspected that the same person who had abducted Hailey was responsible for the demon’s miserable condition. Perhaps he could tell her where her sister was taken, maybe May would be even able to talk him into helping her retrieve Hailey. May desperately needed to know it. If Aedain died, her hope to see her sister again would perish with him.

                Besides, he probably knew what happened to Erik and Lavena. She cared about the boy a great deal and the witch was probably the only one who knew how to open the portal to Earth again. Without the sorceress, May’s parents wouldn’t see their daughters ever again.

                “Fine,” May muttered to herself, reaching the decision. She wanted to interrogate Aedain, but first she had to make him regain consciousness.  Sighing, she examined his condition.

                With a huge gash from his right shoulder all the way to his left hip it was a miracle Aedain was still alive. One of his arms had been turned into a bloody pulp, and it was hard to find an inch of his skin not covered in cuts and bruises.

                May searched the debris for anything she could use to treat the demon’s injuries. She disinfected the wounds by pouring a whole bottle of Lavena’s suspicious booze on them. A normal person would wake up and scream in pain, but Aedain didn’t even budge. Then, May did her best to wrap the makeshift bandages around the demon’s torso, having some difficulties with lifting his limp and heavy body. May sighed and wiped the sweat from her forehead. All right, the most of the work was done. She managed to stop the source of bleeding.

                The sun was already rising when May finished dressing numerous minor wounds. She had most difficulties with the massacred left arm. She put it in an improvised cast, but it seemed that it desperately required a surgeon’s intervention. However, it was no more May could do and, given the circumstances she did really well.

                “I should go to med school,” she muttered to herself, gazing at the result of her work – Aedain looked a lot like an Egyptian mummy now, but his pulse seemed to be a bit stronger now that May prevented the remaining blood in his body from leaking out.

                During all this time, she was dressing his wounds he didn’t show any sign of regaining consciousness, what worried her, but at least he was still breathing. Sighing, May leaned against what remained of the cellar’s wall and kept watch over her patient.

                The demon was laying still all day, barely alive, but stubbornly refusing to die. May changed his bandages every few hours and prepared a lot of new ones, ready to use. Aedain’s state improved rapidly; his wounds were extremely serious, but they healed several times faster than they’d recoil on a regular human. Minor scratches and bruises were fading quickly and even the ones that were looking like they were lethal, began closing. With every hour Aedain’s breaths were getting deeper and his pulse stronger. May had to admit that the pace of the recovery was insane.

                When the sun was about to hide beneath the horizon, she started building a fire. May stiffened, as she heard rustling behind her back. Was Aedain waking up? She turned around and leaned over the still demon. He seemed to be unconscious…

                Suddenly, May shrieked in surprise as the clawed hand grabbed her wrist and the lids covering golden eyes lifted slowly. She looked at the demon with wide-opened eyes, and he stared back at her.

The Most Unlikely Alliance

The first thing Aedain felt was pain. Piercing, excruciating pain that lit his every single nerve on fire. However, the pain was a good sign – it meant that he was alive. Not opening his eyes, he took in the surroundings. He distantly remembered battling Zhawn’s minions, the immortal fiends. Did he lose? He must have lost.

                Then, Aedain sensed that he wasn’t alone – someone was right at his side. He heard a familiar shriek when he closed his fingers around the person’s wrist. The demon slowly opened his eyes and froze, not believing who was before him.

                The woman, May. Was it a trick, his mind was playing on him? Perhaps he was delirious and was seeing things that weren’t there or, maybe, he died and went straight to hell.

                “You’re awake!” May mumbled, trying to free her hand, but Aedain tightened his grip, nearly crushing her bones, not willing to let go.

                “I am ready,” he said calmly, his voice sounding oddly weak.

                May stared at him for a while, confused.

                “What?” she asked.

                Aedain furrowed his brows.

                “You came for my soul, did you not?” he said, a hint of impatience in his voice.

                May blinked several times, comprehending what Aedain meant by that. She almost burst into laughter when she realized that he had to think that he was dead.

                “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’ll pass on taking your soul. I’m back from my world, and you’re alive. I patched you up,” May summarized all the important events.

                Aedain was looking into her eyes for a while and lessened the pressure of his fingers on her wrist, but didn’t let go.

                “You helped me?” he inquired, staring at May with disbelief.

                “I couldn’t possibly let you bleed to death. Not that you tried to kill me… Oh, wait, you did,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

                Aedain clutched May’s wrist with more strength, causing her to wince from pain. His eyes began glaring daggers at her as he snarled at her. The demon jerked May’s hand and pulled her closer to him, so that their faces were only inches away.

                “You were the one who tried to kill me with a knife!” he hissed out, furious. May narrowed her eyes, equally angered. How dare he remind her that?!

                “It was a self-defense!! You were strangling me that time!” she retorted. The demon growled at her.

                “It was my intention to discipline you, not to kill you!” he yelled at her and averted his gaze from her, staring intently at the sky.

                May felt anger boiling in her and took a calming breath. Discipline? How sadistic could he be?! She felt the urge to punch him with all her strength. On the other hand, she really tried to kill him, but it was his own fault, wasn’t it? May sighed.

                “All right. Let’s not talk about it now. Anyway, what happened here? Who was the red-haired man, the one that was on fire? Where are Erik and Lavena?” May asked, deciding it was the best to keep non-violent relations for the time being, and press Aedain to tell her everything he knew.

                “Not your business,”

                May took a deep breath, refraining from finishing what someone started. Why must he be such an ass?

                “It is my business,” she stated firmly, refusing to get dismissed by Aedain. “You didn’t think I was keeping you alive solely from the goodness of my heart, did you?”

                The demon was staring at her for a longer while, apparently startled by May’s bold attitude. Finally, he decided to return the favor.

                “The boy and the witch might be still alive. I can smell only my and Baltar’s blood here. Perhaps they have been abducted by those monsters,” Aedain said quietly.

                May stiffened. Was there more than one fire monster?

                “Where did the creatures take them?” she asked quickly, sure that wherever Lavena and Erik were, Hailey would be as well.

                Aedain shrugged his shoulders.

                “Can you follow them by scent?” she asked, knowing how acute his sense of smell was.

                “Possibly,” the demon responded. May felt a mix of happiness and fear in her heart. The demon’s words fueled the small spark of hope she had, but how much hope could she afford to harbor when her little sister was in the clutches of some evil creatures?

                Then she looked down, noticing that Aedain’s fingers were clenching her palm the whole time. The uncomfortable silence lasted for a longer while and May coughed.

                “Aedain, you’re still holding my hand,” she said.

                The demon ignored her, still clenching her wrist. He stared at her face, his eyes becoming unfocused as though he was struggling to remain conscious.

                “Damn you, woman…” Aedain said with effort, as though brief argument with May had drained all his strength. “Now I am in your debt.”

                Then, Aedain at last released May from his grip and closed his eyes, resting.

                May stared at him for a longer while, thinking about what he’d just said. He was in her debt? She clenched her fist, having an idea.

                I am so going to collect this debt. You can be sure of that,  she thought, smirking to herself as a plan began forming in her head.

                 “Don’t pass out yet,” May patted Aedain’s shoulder. “I need to know what exactly happened here while I was away.”

                Aedain opened his eyes to glare daggers at her again, but finally, he told May everything. It took some time and a lot of her stubbornness, but she learnt about Zhawn and his unbeatable minions, and that they were the ones looking for the Spear. From Aedain’s story, May gathered that the Dragonslayer’s Spear was just as dangerous in Zhawn’s hands as it would be in Aedain. Apparently, the enemy of the deceased King Kaellach, took too much pleasure in genocide than he should – he was the one who started the last great war eighty years ago, by annihilating human villages and towns one by one.

                The red-haired youth, she had seen earlier, was one of the twin pair. Like she suspected, they were responsible for bringing Aedain to the brink of death.

                “So Zhawn is alive. That’s bad,” May voiced her opinion. “Look, that bastard kidnapped my sister. I need to get her back.”

                Aedain raised his eyebrow.

                “Your sister? Dear ancestors, there is more of you. Is this a plague already?” he mocked her. “Good luck with your mission, woman.”

                May rolled her eyes before giving Aedain a confident look. “Okay, now hear me out. Everything indicates that he kidnapped my sister, Erik, the witch and your buddy Baltar. We have somehow to free them.”

                Aedain looked at her as though she was crazy.

                “Free them?” he asked, snorting. “They are as good as dead. There is nothing you could do, given how pathetically weak you are.”

                May narrowed her eyes at the demon, not willing to give up on Hailey and her dream to get both of them home.

                “I don’t deny, I’m too weak to barge in and free them. But you’re not. And you can sniff them out. We could use the element of surprise – Zhawn probably thinks you’re dead. If you had a good plan you could actually pull it off,” May said, giving Aedain a meaningful look, which collided with the demon’s menacing glare.

                “No,” he said plainly, closing his eyes.

                “But…” May lost her confidence, having not expected that much lack of cooperation. “But Baltar’s your friend! You can’t just leave him behind!”

                Aedain stared back at May with absolutely no remorse.

                “Baltar knows his duties. If needed, he will die,” the demon responded without any emotion in his voice. “And remember this, woman, I have no friends, and you are still alive only because you saved my life.”

                May was looking at the arrogant man for a longer while, unable to come up with a witty retort. She was shocked how anyone could be so uncompassionate, so cold and devoid of decency.

                She narrowed her eyes at Aedain, dead-set on having him help her save Hailey.

                “You’re such a jerk,” she commented. “You said you’re in my debt. Repay it by helping me get home safely. You could start by retrieving my sister and friends. Only you could track them down!”

                May’s and Aedain’s gazes locked in a battle of wills. The demon was giving her his coldest glare, but she wasn’t going to lose either. When he saw that May wouldn’t surrender so easily, the Aedain huffed.

                “I am not doing it. Think of some other way to repay this damn debt,” he hissed out, breaking the eye contact.

                May took a calming breath, not liking how the negotiations were going.

                “So you’re getting back on your word?”she questioned, looking at the wounded demon with contempt. “You have a lot of character flaws, but I never thought you were a coward.”

                The words had the expected effect on Aedain. His eyes lit up with internal fire as he clenched his fist and slammed it into the ground, breaking a granite tile. He glared at May, his usually stoic face now displaying surprisingly much emotion – anger, humiliation, shame.

                “I am not a coward!” the demon yelled at May.

                She had to gather all her courage not to flinch; she knew that she couldn’t afford showing any weakness in front of the demon right now. When she smiled lightly instead from cowering in fear, Aedain’s confidence plummeted.

                “If you say so,” May said indifferently.

                The demon kept staring at her with a bewildered expression on his face as the weak human girl had just crushed his pride like it was nothing.

                “I am not,” Aedain repeated, looking away. The demon clenched his teeth, the brutal truth soaking to his mind. All his life he took pride in his fighting skills, his superior strength, and yet it turned out to be nothing compared to the two monsters he had fought. He was striving so stubbornly to accomplish his dream to become the most powerful being that ever existed and free his people from the human’s oppression, but it was merely a childish fantasy, a pathetic delusion. In the end, he hadn’t been able to succeed – his chance for the greatness was gone forever. Now Aedain was left with nothing, not even his useless companion Baltar.

                “The only thing I have left is my life,” the demon said out loud. “I will not sacrifice it for anyone.”

                May was silent for a longer while, pondering Aedain’s words. She understood his point of view, but without his help, all hope for Hailey and their safe return would be lost. May needed Aedain’s abilities to locate the boy, witch Lavena and her sister. The demon looked like he would use a stronger incentive.

                She bit her lower lip, considering if she should give it to him. Under normal circumstances, it would be the stupidest idea ever, but the situation was far from normal right now. She sighed heavily, having decided to use her trump card.

                “Those… people, who kidnapped my sister and the rest, they have something, which could interest you…” May began, not being entirely sure if she made a right call.

                Aedain arched his eyebrow.

                “I doubt it,” the demon said skeptically.

                “How about the Dragonslayer’s Spear?” May asked, quitting beating around the bush.

                Aedain’s reaction was immediate. He stiffened and stared right at May, his golden eyes wide-opened in shock.

                “Impossible,” he whispered, struggling to regain his composure. Then a spark of disbelief crept into his mind as he snorted at the her. “Do not even try such petty tricks on me, woman. Where would they get the Spear from anyway?”

                May kept her emotions in check.

                “From me,” she said flat out, making Aedain stare at her in shock once again. She shrugged her shoulders. “I found it back in my world and told my sister to give it to one of those red-haired guys who beat you up.”

                “You did what?” the demon whispered, the look of horror showing on his face as May spoke so casually of the Kal Laismarr’s most treasured and powerful artifact. “Why would you give them the Dragonslayer’s Spear?”

                May sighed heavily.

                “It was either that or her life, and I treasure her life just as much as you treasure yours,” she explained shortly.

                Aedain muttered something inaudible in response and knitted his eyebrows; his face focused as he was thinking May’s words through.

                “I know you do,” he said, distracted. After a prolonging moment of silence, the demon turned his full attention to the girl at his side. He cleared his throat, the displeased look on his face. “Very well, I will follow those bastards who took my Spear, take it back along with Baltar and the other useless fools. As much I do not like the idea, you can follow me.”

                May inhaled sharply.

                “And if we get all of them into safety, you’ll help me and my sister go back to my world,” she tried pushing her luck.

                Aedain scowled, hearing her demands, but didn’t come with a snappy response right away. He glared at May, but nodded in agreement, acknowledging that if it wasn’t for her, his corpse would be rotting here.

                “Deal. We move out at dawn,” the demon announced and laid back, hiding a wince of pain. Clenching his teeth, he closed his eyes.

Camp of Farn’s troops, Digerholm Mountains

                When the night was falling over Farn, countless campfires lit on the uplands near the border with Karhadon. The sea of tents was stretching for miles; the borders of the enormous camp weren’t guarded carefully though. Actually, Duke Thoen and General Vangard hoped that Karhadonian spies would scout the vicinity and notice the multitude of Farnian soldiers. Not even the oldest citizens remembered such a mobilization – almost every man able to wield a sword or an axe had been drafted, joining the force of ten thousand soldiers.The numerous army had the purpose of intimidating the enemy and provoking Duke Royse to march all of his forces out of Orvik, making it easy for Farn’s real strikeforce to capture the capital.

                The unit of no more than two hundred men already reached the Digerholm Mountains and made its way north, relentlessly marching along the deadly slopes and clefts. These soldiers were the best of best in Farn, the most skilled and experienced in battle. When the campfires in Duke’s army were lit, General Soren’s elite unit made the stop for the night, the last one before striking on Orvik.

                An oil lamp swayed under the ceiling of the officers’ tent, casting its flickering light on a map laying on a makeshift table and two men bent over the rumpled sheet of paper. The howling of the wind could barely be heard in the improvised shelter as well as the hushed voices of Farn soldiers who camped outside in a large cave which could accommodate an entire unit.

                “This is our current position.” General Soren pointed the spot right between the end of the Digerholm mountain range and Mam Naois. “Duke Thoen will depart with the first ray of sunlight. The Karhadonian army will have to march out of Orvik.”

                “Granted, it hasn’t departed yet,” Leif said, scratching his chin covered in a thin fair beard. The young soldier scowled, frustrated that they didn’t know the current position of the enemy main forces. The lack of knowledge was excruciating, but sending some scouts could betray their presence here and ruin the entire plan. Staring at the map, he calculated the distance from Orvik to the border in his mind. “It will take two days for the armies to meet and engage in the battle. We must get to the Karhadonian capital to prevent the general battle, but not too soon. If we do that, the Karhadonians will retreat to Orvik, and we’ll lose the advantage.”

                “Correct.” General Soren’s stern voice made Leif feel as though he was still in the military academy in Thorongard, taking one of the challenging exams. “Tomorrow we’ll climb down the mountains. Using the cover of the night, we’ll gallop to Orvik. Once we claim the city, the Karhadonians will have no place to retreat to. Duke Thoen will crush them.”

                Leif nodded, acknowledging the plan. Even though it was a crucial mission and an important step on the ladder of his military career, he didn’t feel fully committed. He wished to be a useful soldier of Farn, he hoped to be able to protect as many people as he could, but every step taken on the path to Orvik seemed forced. The whole plan was entirely his idea, but even that didn’t spur him on. General Soren noticed his lack of enthusiasm.

                “I’m going to sleep. Better get some rest yourself, Captain.” He straightened his back and, rubbing his tired eyes, he walked away from the table that was built of a shield laying on a boulder.

                Leif smiled at him weekly and nodded. He reached to roll the map, but one particular spot caught his attention. Mam Naois, the mountain pass between Dulheim and Karhadon. His fingers brushed against the smooth paper of the map when he remembered the mysterious woman named Nesrin telling the Duke that Maewyn would cross the mountains there…  he wondered if it would be a fool’s dream to meet her there and be able to tear her from the demon’s grasp. Leif shook his head, berating himself – this was not the moment to think about the Lady; he had to focus on the mission.

                “I will take a walk,” he said to General Soren and walked out of the tent, hoping that the fresh air would chase away the remorse and regret. Due to the war frenzy, he barely thought about her, but now the memories and feelings flooded his mind. Ever since Maewyn was abducted, he felt guilty, he knew he could have done more to protect her, but he didn’t. Maybe had he accompanied her the day she was taken he could have slain the demon or at least buy her enough time to escape to Thoen Stronghold. He should have searched more fervently. Perhaps he missed some essential clue. Above all, Leif felt that he gave up too easily. Not even a lunar cycle passed since the kidnapping, and he was focusing on other tasks already.

                Leif sighed, inhaling the slightly stale air in the spacious cave. Carefully making his way between the sleeping soldiers, he went toward the light. The typical sounds of camping warriors reached his ears – the noise of steel grazing against a sharpener, the choir of snores and hushed conversations. The horses were napping with their heads hung.

                The wind was howling outside, but that didn’t discourage Leif from stepping outside. Feeling the watcher’s gaze on his back, he leaned against the stone wall. He crossed his arms on his chest, staring north, toward Mam Naois. He suspected Nesrin’s information was bogus, but even if it was, it was the sole trace of Maewyn. However, what if it was accurate? Leif smiled sadly, thinking of the Lady’s sad fate. Even her own father had to put the duty over his parental love and leave her on the demon’s mercy. Leif gazed at the sharp peaks of Digerholm Mountains, now only huge black shapes in the darkness of the night.

                Mam Naois was never closer.

Nesrin

Orvik, Karhadon

                Waves were beating against the cliffy shores, covering the docks of haven in Orvik with the creamy sea foam. The temperature dropped as a tiny cloud approached the Red Castle, moving in the direction opposite to the wind. The cloud swirled and dissolved, snowflakes falling toward the top of the highest tower. Before they touched the stone floor, they danced as though following the music of the howling wind and gathered, creating a human silhouette. The snowflakes solidified, turning into an ice statue of a woman. After a split second the statue transformed into a living being and the woman named Nesrin reached to her unpigmented hair to comb it with her thin fingers.

                She surveyed the area with her pale blue eyes; her gaze lingering for a longer while on the ships, moored in some distance from the haven. The ships that caught Nesrin’s interest were not as large as the famous warships of the Volden Islands, but their unique design made them swift like the wind and capable of enduring the most vicious storms. Nesrin arched her eyebrow, seeing small boats coursing between the ships and the shore – apparently the vessels were being readied for the departure to her homeland.

                Nesrin frowned when her thoughts strayed to the painful memory of her country of origin. Some people could feel melancholy when away from home, but she felt great relief. She was away from all the suffering, from the ever-present voice inside her head that was controlling her every action, stripping her off the remnants of freedom. She was far from Him.

                She shivered and clutched her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, throwing the negative thoughts from her mind and focusing on here and now. For the time being, she was safe, separated from the peril by the vast sea. As long as she was helping Zhawn with spreading the war, she could enjoy the freedom. It was almost like before she became what she was now. At least, Nesrin thought it was that way, for she had no memories from her previous life.

                The white-haired woman lowered her hands and changed her appearance to look more like a human being. After drawing a calming breath, she set off toward Zhawn’s quarters. They used to belong to some nobleman, but an accident befell him when the chambers with the view at the sea caught Zhawn’s fancy. In fact, this part of Royse’s castle was completely overtaken by Nesrin’s master. The servants pledged their allegiance not to the human Duke, but to Zhawn.

A displeased grimace appeared on Nesrin’s face as she sensed the presence of her brothers. She was annoyed by their company for they were nothing than brainless killing machines, drunken by the power they had obtained. They were everything she never wanted to be, the constant reminder of her future.

                “Lady Nesrin!” she turned toward the sound of a shaking male voice calling her name. “Lady Nesrin, lord Zhawn awaits you!”

                Nesrin said nothing, gazing at one of the newly acquired slaves. She straightened her perfectly-looking white dress and directed her steps to the former ball chamber, where Zhawn and the twins were. On her way, she passed many terrified people, skinny and overworked. They were dying from hunger and exhaustion, but no one cared as long as they served their purpose.

                She pushed the wooden door and entered the chamber which was dimly lit by weak sunrays seeping through the narrow windows. The thick stone walls were the reason it was chilly inside, but Nesrin never felt cold despite being dressed in a delicate satin robe that was exposing her pale shoulders and back. Her eyes rested on a human girl, tied to a chair in the middle of the room.

                She hung her head and her fair tresses hid her face like a golden curtain. A strangled sound escaped her throat as a sob shook her body. Stuttering, she said something pleadingly. However, Nesrin didn’t recognize the language; she wasn’t fluent in Laismaran, but she had heard enough of it to know that the girl wasn’t speaking it. Nesrin’s eyes wandered from the prisoner, over the twins with flaming-red hair towards the cloaked figure with the face hidden by a wide hood.

                “You took your sweet time,” a raspy voice resounded from under the hood.

                “I apologize for the delay, master Zhawn,” Nesrin said, bowing her head.

                Zhawn said nothing, weighing some object in his hands. Nesrin squinted her eyes, trying to discern in the dim light what the object was. It was fairly dark in the chamber, but the item seemed to be not only blacker than the darkest night, but also to absorb all light. Nesrin inhaled sharply, when she realized what Zhawn was holding in his hands.

                “The Dragonslayer’s Spear!” she breathed out, surprised.

                Then laughter sounded in the chamber as the red-haired twins displayed their merriment in unison. Both gave Nesrin identical mocking smirks.

                “Indeed, we have obtained it and delivered it to master Zhawn while you did nothing useful.” One of them shoved the boast right into the white-haired woman’s face.

                “And we cornered Aedain, son of Kaellach from the Ruanaidh bloodline,” the other twin finished, the grin never disappearing from his unnaturally smooth and youthful face.

                Nesrin glared at the pair, but refrained from retorting. Instead, she smiled politely.

                “Congratulations,” she said without much enthusiasm.

                “Nesrin.” Zhawn’s raspy voice drew the white-haired woman’s attention. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she felt them on her. “Take this useless trash to the dungeons.”

                With these words, he approached the blonde human girl and ripped the ropes, she was tied with. Not paying any attention to her whimpering, Zhawn yanked her off the chair brutally and pushed her toward Nesrin, almost tossing the child across the room. The girl yelped and squirmed when she landed in front of the white-haired woman, ripping off the skin on her knees. She wiped the tears off her face before she pulled herself up clumsily. Her knees were caked in blood and buckling.

                Nesrin scatched her arm, not bothering to be delicate; the girl didn’t even protest.

                Zhawn’s disdainful grimace expressed what he was thinking of the young prisoner.

                “Waste of time,” he muttered before addressing Nesrin once again. “I will depart soon. I require you to ready the cargo for the journey.”

                Nesrin winced, but bowed respectively.

                “Yes, master,” she responded immediately. “How many this time?”

                “Three hundred souls.”

The Quest Begins

Riada Swamp

                May couldn’t sleep well that night, tortured by nightmares and constantly thinking of what could be happening to Hailey right now. The uncertainty, the fear and guilt were making her feel miserable. However, the helplessness was the worst – the knowledge that her sister was in need of her help and all May could do was to wait for Aedain to recover over the night. The situation, she got herself and Hailey into, looked hopeless but hope kept her going. Deep in her heart, she knew that her bratty sister was still alive, she was sure that if she died, she’d somehow know.

                May sighed, observing the sky lightening up in the east. She bit her lower lip, feeling as though she was drowning in doubt. She had managed to get that psychotic demon Aedain on her side, but it was painfully obvious that he was in no shape to fight, and she had absolutely no plan. How were the two of them going to retrieve Hailey and the rest?

                “I guess, I’ll have to figure it out along the way,” May muttered to herself, pulling herself on her feet and beginning to gather her belongings; the day before she had managed to salvage some traveling equipment from the remnants of Lavena’s tower and prepare herself for the long journey.

                The dawn was nearing and so was the quest to save the abducted companions. May looked over her shoulder when she heard a sound. She saw Aedain waking up.

                The demon groaned, apparently displeased that the new day came so quickly. Slowly, trying not to reopen his wounds, Aedain stood up. His knees were buckling, barely surrounding his weight. He looked truly pitiful in such a state, merely a shadow of the fearsome ruthless demon who had kidnapped May from the Thoen Stronghold. His previously smooth hair was now tangled, reeking of dried blood. His skin was pale like a corpse’s, the bruises and injuries still gracing it. Aedain’s left arm was hanging loosely by his side, not healed yet. Panting heavily, the demon leaned on one of his sheathed swords and looked around, determination lighting his golden eyes once again.

                “Woman, where is my armor?” he demanded, without even a hint of politeness in his voice.

                May frowned, but kept all snappy remarks to herself. After all, she needed Aedain, and she wanted him to be in a mood as good as possible, given his bad temper.

                “Your armor? It’s here and there,” she answered, pointing at the small shattered pieces lying all over the rummage. Those fragments were all that had remained from it. May grabbed a fairly heavy bad with supplies for the journey and prepared for the departure. “We’ll get you some new clothes once we leave Riada Swamp. I only need to change your bandages, and I’m good to go.”

                Aedain muttered something, most probably some creatively offensive word describing his female companion, but held still while May was dressing his wounds with makeshift bandages. She noticed that the demon must have been overly optimistic regarding his injuries; most of his wounds were still open and bleeding, especially the huge gush across of his chest. She tightened the bandages as much as she could, hoping that Aedain wouldn’t bleed out before he tracked Erik down.

                When May tried to take a look on the demon’s left hand, he whisked it away.

                “Hey, I need to check it too!” she protested, but Aedain flipped her off as he fastened his swords on his back.

                “It will heal in a day or two,” he hissed out. “Now do not waste anymore of my time, you useless human.”

                May’s eyes widened and she clenched her fists, holding her anger in.

                Useless?! That’s how you call people who save your sorry ass, jerk?! – she thought, pissed off at the demon. She took a few calming breaths, barely refraining herself from giving Aedain a piece of her mind and followed him, dragging the heavy traveling bag on her back.

                When May climbed out from the cellar of the collapsed Lavena’s tower, she felt a stab of sadness as she gazed at the remains of what used to be a lush inhabited land. In the pale light of the first sun-rays, the view was horrifying; the hills were black, the smoke still rising from the burned human settlements and fields. It was truly an apocalyptic scenery. However, what shocked May the most, was the silence. Eerie absolute silence, which seemed almost to devour all the sounds she and Aedain made.

                “North, woman, start walking north,” the demon’s voice returned May to reality.

                May began walking away in the direction, she believed to be right, when she felt a heavy hand falling on her shoulder and turning her in another direction.

                “North is that way,” Aedain told her with a dismayed look on his face and started walking in front of her.

                The journey through the hostile Riada Swamp proved itself to be slower than May expected. On her way here fear and hope to get home helped her keep the pace; now the treacherous paths through the marsh seemed to be curvier and longer. Even though both she and her companion were extremely motivated to march as quickly as possible, the progress they made was meager. May couldn’t help but feel guilty that she was strolling across the marshes while Hailey was scared, surrounded by monsters; maybe they even tortured her. Countless gruesome scenarios were playing in her head, one worse than another. What if Zhawn killed her little sister? May gritted her teeth, noticing that due the daydreaming she slowed down and made a decision to focus on getting to her sister rather than on her worries.

She was walking after Aedain, who followed some invisible trace only he could detect. For some time, she stared at the demon’s back. She made a mental note to buy him some clothes as soon as possible. Maybe if he wasn’t looking like a miserable white and purple meat pulp, the sight of his almost naked body right in front of her eyes could be distracting. However, swollen and bandaged like a mummy, even a man as attractive as he, could only evoke the feeling of worry and pity in her. May narrowed her eyes, observing Aedain walking. She could tell that he was using all his strength and even more willpower to move forward. She could hear his heavy breathing, his movements betraying the fatigue.

                “Are you sure they went this way?” May asked the demon after some time, tired of the uncomfortable silence.

                “Yes,” Aedain responded quickly. He didn’t have to turn back to know that she wasn’t satisfied with the short answer, he could feel her questioning gaze boring into his back. He gritted his teeth. “The smell of Baltar’s blood is distinct.”

                May sighed as she stepped over a root, readjusting the strap of her bag.

                “How about other scents?” she inquired.

                “I am not sure yet,” Aedain answered, impatience creeping into his voice. When he heard May taking a breath and about to ask more questions, he decided to prevent it from happening. “Say something more and I will make you regret it.”

                May closer her mouth and glared daggers at the demon’s back.

                “As you command, Your Highness,” she said sarcastically. Then something popped into her mind, something she was curious about since she heard it. “Say, Aedain, aren’t you a prince?”

                She saw the demon stiffen at her question. Then he grunted; the sound could be interpreted as a muffled “yes." May wrinkled her forehead, feeling that there could be something fishy about Aedain’s heritage. After all princes usually weren’t vagabonding like he did, were they?

                “Your dad, the king, passed away,” May stated the fact, voicing her thoughts aloud. “Shouldn’t you be the king now?”

                Aedain glared at the path in front of him, feeling the burning desire to twist the woman’s neck. Since her return from the dark pit, she called home, she was bothersome and much more confident than he would like her to be. The demon preferred when she was absolutely terrified of him, at least she was not asking senseless questions about his personal life.

                “So, you have an older brother, right?” Aedain scowled, hearing yet another question.

                It was known among the Laismarans that the world beyond the Veil was inhabited by vile bloodthirsty creatures, twisted by nature. Many of his kind believed that after the death, a Laismaran could ascend to take his place among the stars. This was, however, a privilege reserved only for the righteous ones. The Laismarans, who had committed inexplicable crimes during their lifetimes, were said to be sent to the world beyond the Veil, to endure endless torture in this cursed place. Aedain had never believed in those foolish tales, but perhaps he should revise his view. Maybe if he had been careful with killing the innocent people, the cursed otherworldly woman wouldn’t have been sent here.

                “So are you going to pretend that I don’t exist or what?” May asked, confirming Aedain’s suspicion that she was the punishment sent from beyond the Veil, with the sole purpose of making his life unbearable.

                The demon could sense the next question approaching and came to the conclusion that his policy of simply ignoring the woman’s existence, failed.

                “My father did not have any children besides me,” Aedain finally answered, genuinely surprising May.

                She stared at the demon’s back.

                “So why aren’t you…” she began, but the black-haired man interrupted her.

                “A king?” Aedain asked bitterly, not looking at May. “One cannot be a king, if there is no kingdom to rule anymore.”

                The demon wrinkled his forehead as the memories of who he used to be, invaded his mind once again, the sad reminder of good old days. His father, King Kaellach, was the ruler of the northern domain of Kal Laismarr. His lands covered the human dukedoms Dulheim and Karhadon, stretching far into the northern wasteland. Over a century ago he secured a peace treaty with the human dukes, it stated that the humans and Laismarans were not allowed to kill each other anymore under the threat of a trial.

                However, father’s precious treaty was short-lived. Many vassals were opposed to the king’s human-friendly policy, seeing it as a sign of weakness, trampling over Laismaran pride. Doubts about his leadership grew over the decades when finally, his friend Zhawn rebelled against Kellach. It was a matter of days, until half of the northern clans denounced their allegiance to their king. The reason of Zhawn’s rebellion was unknown to Aedain, his father never told him it.

                Then the war came. The king gathered the vassals who were still faithful to him and forged an alliance with humans of Dulgard and Karhadon. And in the end, they killed him during the celebrations after the victory. Baltar barely got Aedain out of this one. After the king’s shameful death, the rest of the vassals lost their faith in the strength of the Ruanaidh dynasty and decided to claim the northern domain for themselves, dividing the kingdom into tiny pieces.

                “So what happened?” The woman’s nagging voice woke Aedain from his thoughts.

The demon shook his head, chasing the memories away. He stopped and sat on an overturned trunk of a tree, exhausted by an hour-long trek through Riada Swamp. His legs were slightly shivering from over exhaustion, his breathing uneven. Aedain was staring in front of him, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes.

                May kept staring at Aedain, waiting for the demon to answer her question. Aedain glanced up at her and scowled after seeing the expectant look on the woman’s face.

                “You will keep bothering me until I tell you, won’t you?” he muttered, irritated by her persistence.

                “I have been exiled after the coup,” the demon dryly summarized the events from eighty years ago, the distant look in his eyes. “I am a prince in name only since then.”

                Aedain checked if the blood wasn’t soaking through his bandages and stood up, his face unemotional like a stone sculpture.

                “I suppose it is more than enough conversation for today,” the demon hissed out and glared at May with his piercing golden eyes. He clenched his teeth, hiding a grimace of pain and began walking forward, fighting the soreness in his body.

The Clouds Gather

                May and Aedain traveled during the rest of the day and nearly the entire night in silence, taking only a brief break for a nap. The demon was moving with difficulty, his injuries still too severe to undertake such a journey, but he kept striving forward regardless of physical suffering. His desire for power fueled his meager strength, allowing his battered body to withstand the effort which was far beyond its limits.

                The dawn was a couple of hours ago when May noticed the light of the day shining through the dense forest. She squinted her eyes and smiled to herself.

                After fighting their way through Riada Swamp, May and Aedain headed in the direction of north-east, maintaining a murderous pace and avoiding any human settlements along the way. May couldn’t believe that her demonic companion could stand, much less march. He was swaying, droplets of sweat on the bare skin of his arms, but kept moving forward with steel determination. When May wanted to change his bandages, Aedain refused and berated her for wasting the precious time.

                “Aedain, wouldn’t it be easier and faster if you just changed into your dragon self?” May asked, wincing from pain and yawning; the blisters on her feet were killing her, not to mention the fact, that she really needed to get her sleep soon. Her mind and heart ushered her to keep going, but her body was about to give up.

                “It would,” the demon hissed out. “but I would probably bleed to death if I tried to transform.”

                May sighed heavily, mentally scolding herself for not thinking of that: the severe change would surely make his huge chest wound re-open; It was already a miracle that Aedain’s guts didn’t fall out yet. If only Meirch was here, or they had a pair of horses…

                She let out a surprised gasp as she nearly bumped into Aedain, who suddenly stopped, looking at something. May followed his gaze, curious what caught the demon’s attention. A boat. It was a tiny fishing boat, moored at the bank of a small river, actually more a brook than a river as the water in the deepest place reached maybe May’s waist. The boat had even nets inside and looked as though the owner left it only for a short while, about to come back soon.

                “Get in,” Aedain commanded shortly.

                May gawked at him and looked around cautiously.

                “Um… Aedain…” she began unsurely. “Are you certain, that it’s alright to steal someone’s boat?”

                The demon glared at her coldly, and May saw with the corner of her eye his hand wandering to the hilt of the sword. Somehow she knew exactly what he was planning to do if the owner showed up – she learned already, that if Aedain faced a problem, he usually got rid of it using his swords or fists. Knowing, that there was no point with arguing with him, she crawled into the small boat. Anyway, it should be faster to use it, right?

                Aedain stepped into the boat after May and pushed it away from the river shore, using a paddle. Precisely in this moment, two men – one old and the other one younger - sprang out of the bushes, pulling their pants up, and began yelling.

                “Our boat!” the one with the white hair shouted, pointing the boat which was just being hijacked by Aedain and May. He grabbed the younger man’s sleeve and tugged it energetically. “Egil, chase after those thieves!”

                “HALT!” the younger man yelled, jumping into the water and trying to catch the boat.

                May grabbed another paddle and helped Aedain get away from the boat’s rightful owners as quick as possible.

                Mainly thanks to her frantic efforts and the current, the boat was already out of the rightful owners’ reach. After a few more swings with the paddle, May put it back into the boat, seeing, that Aedain had everything under control – the water current was strong, so all the demon had to do was to steer. May sighed heavily. That was a one crazy day. Normally, she would disapprove of stealing, but she kept her mouth shut. The circumstances were exceptional, and they needed all the speed they could get and taking the river route would save a lot of time, as the path which laid ahead of them would be long and exhausting.

                Speaking of exhausting, May began to feel the fatigue. The sun was high on the sky; it was perhaps one or two hours after the noon, but a lot happened and the girl was now barely conscious. Not to mention the terribly aching feet...

                May found a comfortable position in the boat and started observing her temporary ally paddling. She had considered helping him, but she assumed that if the demon had enough strength to take on eleven thugs all by himself and then make her life a hell, he could as well take care of the paddling.

                Something caught May’s attention. Aedain wasn’t using his left hand at all even though it would be more comfortable for him to paddle using both. She narrowed her eyes, observing the limb. She noticed it before, but until now, she didn’t pay enough attention to it: the arm was hanging limply by Aedain’s side, never used. She recalled that it had been broken in too many places to count properly, and it used to look like a bloody pulp. Despite the fact, most of his injuries got slightly better, including the enormous gush across his chest, the arm didn’t seem to be back in shape at all. On the outside, May saw the signs of healing, but there was something seriously wrong with it – Aedain’s fingers were perfectly still, not even moving half an inch.

                “Let me see your arm,” May said firmly and confidently leaned toward the demon, determined to check if her worst suspicions were true.

                Aedain slightly moved away from her, just a bit, as there wasn’t much space in the boat.

                “Hn,” he glared at her, as though wanting to fend her off. “Stop bothering me. It will heal.”

                May narrowed her eyes at the demon. She noticed, that the way Aedain was trying to wriggle away was strange. He looked like he was not only annoyed by her, but ashamed of something. She rolled her eyes, internally cursing his stubbornness and stupidity.

                “Don’t move,” she said shortly and swiftly reached out, grabbing his wrist. Aedain attempted to push May away, but with one arm he couldn’t do much, as he had to hold a paddle. The scowled and growled at May, wanting to warn her in that way, but she forcefully pulled the arm toward herself. The boat rocked violently and both stilled, not eager to fall into the cold water. The demon sent May his most intimidating glare.

                “What do you think you are doing, woman?” he hissed out, angry at her insolence.

                May completely ignored him and took a look at the injured limb. Without any warning, she dug her nails into the flesh of Aedain’s left hand as hard as she could, breaking his skin. She expected some reaction, him to protest, wince from pain or at least to clench the fingers instinctively. However, there was none, the hand didn’t move as though the demon didn’t feel the pain at all.

                “Oh crap,” May muttered, realizing what it meant. She grabbed one of the fingers and tried to bend and flex it, but it was oddly stiff like it wasn’t a part of a living body. She bit her lower lip and looked up at Aedain’s face. “Do you feel anything in this hand at all?”

                He shrugged his shoulders and clumsily yanked the arm out of May’s grasp. He said nothing, but his silence told May more than the words could. He lost the feeling in his left arm, probably the nerves got damaged.

                “Idiot,” May muttered under the nose, glaring at the demon. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

                Aedain didn’t answer her. She opened her mouth already, about to continue berating him, but changed her mind, after seeing the strange expression on Aedain’s face. The demon refused to look her into eye and she could clearly see shame on his usually stoic face.

                “Maybe it’ll get better with time,” she said gently, pitying the demon. She thought that the whole situation must be hard for him and his pride. He said nothing, but May suspected what he was thinking – losing the feeling in one of his arms must have been a horrible blow for a warrior.

                “Take your rest,” Aedain spoke, still not looking the girl in the eye.

                May huffed and laid back, but she wasn’t able to drift off to slumber. Even though it felt as though she didn’t have any sleep for ages, her thoughts kept swirling around Hailey, keeping her awake. The last memory of her sister haunted her – back in the ruins of Lavena’s tower Hailey seemed so fragile, so dependent on her, and yet May failed to protect her. She shifted in the narrow boat, like she couldn’t find a comfortable position.

                “You sleep a less than usual,” Aedain suddenly spoke.

                “Maybe.” May didn’t even glance at him; the demon was the last person she wanted to discuss her inner turmoil with. However, Aedain didn’t seem to be willing to let her off the hook.

                “If you are too exhausted to keep up with me, I will leave you behind.” The demon kept paddling at an even pace, his golden eyes set on May.

                “Hmm,” she muttered, praying for him to be less talkative.

                “And then you will never save that sister of yours,” Aedain continued, never taking his gaze off May. When May propped on her elbows to stare at him, he raised his dark eyebrow. “Think less and act more. Perhaps getting your sleep to regain some of your strength might be a good idea.”

                May groaned, knowing that he was right. Without saying a word to him, May nodded and pulled curled into a ball on a bottom of the small boat, closing her eyes. She didn’t know, when the sleep embraced her.

                Aedain touched his chest and pressed it, checking the condition of his ribcage. He clenched his teeth when sharp pain shot through his body – several ribs were still broken. The demon looked at his hand and winced, seeing that the fingers were covered in his blood, which was seeping out of the wound inflicted by Zhawn.

                He wanted to reach for the paddle to readjust the boat’s course, but his fingers grazed against the wooden pole. He gritted his teeth, glaring at the useless left arm which was unable even to grab the paddle, much less handle a sword. He felt nothing below the elbow; his limb was dead.

                “Zhawn,” Aedain hissed out, his voice hateful. His father’s old adversary somehow returned from the dead, almost killed Aedain, crippled him and above all – took the Dragonslayer’s Spear. Unforgivable! No one would get away with destroying his fate.

                The dragon prince snatched the paddle with his uninjured hand and moored the fishing boat at the riverbank. Taking his swords, Aedain jumped out of the boat and looked at the other passenger – the human woman. Clueless as always, she napped, curled in a ball in a child-like  manner. Aedain frowned and reached toward May with his hand, wanting to drag her out of the boat, preferably by her hair.

                Aedain’s fingers were an inch from the woman’s head when he clenched his fist, looking at how the wind played with her short brown hair, making them swirl around her peaceful face. Aedain narrowed his eyes when a sigh escaped her slightly parted lips.

                “Damainte boireann,” he cursed in Laismaran. He could not help it – the woman’s stubbornness and her sharp tongue were extremely infuriating, but she had gained his respect. Despite her weakness, she had the courage to defy Aedain and even to walk right into Zhawn’s hands, knowing that the odds were not in her favor. The dragon prince smirked, remembering how fiercely May fought him when he chased her in Baigh Riada. Aedain had never  before encountered a woman so bold and resourceful. Maybe she was a pathetic and treacherous woman, but she had a heart of a queen.

                Aedain growled and shook his head, chasing away the foolish thought. Why would he even have such utterly idiotic ideas?

                May’s eyes snapped open as she felt a not-so-gentle tugging on her shoulder. Still half-asleep, she looked up to see what woke her up. It wasn’t surprising, that she saw the face of the certain  demon who looked slightly irritated.

                “Get up, woman,” he muttered and forcefully yanked her up.

                Before May’s body had time to react, he dragged her out of the boat and carried her to the shore, before lowering her onto the dry land – a surprisingly non-malicious gesture for him.

                She looked around, feeling that her knees buckled. The sun was already casting red rays upon the plateau. The river was turning west – that must have been the reason Aedain decided to leave it.

                “We’re walking on foot?” she made sure, not happy about marching for god knows how long. She rubbed her eyes and yawned.

                “Yes. Do not stay behind,” Aedain answered and already began walking away.

                May sighed and followed him, wishing she was just as tough as he was. When she was rolling her eyes, her gaze lingered on the sky. Even though the sun was rising, it wasn’t getting much brighter as dark clouds from the west gathered above her and Aedain’s heads.

                “I think it may rain,” she commented. Hearing her observation, the demon looked upward; a deep wrinkle appeared on his forehead.

                “Faster, woman!” Aedain almost yelled to May.

                She nodded and clenching her teeth, jogged after him as they were trying to outrun the coming downpour. The clouds, May saw, quickly covered the entire sky, obscuring the sunlight. They were thick, and it was apparent that it would rain very soon.

                “Wait, I…” May uttered, panting, but Aedain wasn’t going to wait for her. Even though the demon was barely walking, now he sprinted forward, leaving her behind. Both knew that once the rain came, he wouldn’t be able to track Zhawn and their abducted companions anymore.

                A thunder rolled over the plateau the split second a bright lightning struck the lake in the distance. May clenched her teeth and kept running – Aedain’s silhouette was getting smaller and smaller as the distance between them grew. Damn, why am I so slow?

                As she was struggling to keep up with her demonic companion, May spotted a movement with the corner of her eye. It was a farmer meticulously plowing his field, using a horse. Then, an idea popped into her mind. Perhaps it was unfair and somewhat cruel, but the lives were at stake here.

                “Aedain!” She poined at the lone peasant. “Intercept the horse!”

                The demon slowed down and stopped; his gaze set on the farmer; the look in his golden eyes was disturbingly predatory. He didn’t need her to convince him further. He rushed toward the farmer, drawing one of his swords. May cursed and followed him, discontented with the turn of events – she wanted him to steal the horse, not kill the innocent man.

                “Run!” She yelled to the farmer, seeing that he was standing still, staring at charging Aedain. He was clutching his precious plow desperately, as though his life depended on it. May gasped for air and shouted even louder. “He’ll kill you, run!”

                Finally, the farmer squeaked like a terrified animal and dashed out toward a poor-looking shack, constantly glancing over his shoulder. Aedain swung his sword Dorreach; the blade fell on the wide leather straps fastening the plot to the horse. The scared animal neighed and wanted to escape, but the demon managed to thrust his sword into the ground and snatch the end of one of the severed straps, holding the horse in place.

                Panting, May made it to their newly acquired steed. She approached it from the front and caught the bridle. Gently petting the soft snorkels, she tried to calm the animal down. However, it was restless, like it was sensing that the man standing by it side wasn’t a human. The farming horse plastered its ears flat against its head; the nostrils flared. May had to use all of her weight to keep the dancing animal in place, because it wanted to wriggle away from Aedain.

                “Hold it,” the demon ordered, quickly wiping Dorreach’s blade with his pants and sheathing the sword. Ignoring the reactions of the frightened horse, he swung his leg and lightly jumped onto its back. He grabbed the reins and gestured for May to get on the horseback.

                 After seeing several of her failed attempts to climb on the unsaddled animal, he reached out and yanked her up. Once she wrapped her arms around his waist, he stopped pulling at the reins, and the horse jumped into a gallop, racing with the storm.

Camp of Farn’s troops, Digerholm Mountains

                “Leave the unnecessary equipment in the cave!” General Soren yelled as the first rays of sun made their way through the sharp peaks of the Digerholm Mountains. It illuminated the entrance to the cave where two hundred of Farnian soldiers were spending the last night high on the mountain slopes.

                A racket filled the camp when the warriors were frantically preparing to move out. They had an entire day to climb down to the Karhadonian heights, but the way was long, so they had to hurry. General Soren ordered to move in groups of fifty people and the first one already departed. The soldiers were running around, for the last time checking their armors and weapons. The unforeseen events were unavoidable – two of the horses were limping and the unit had no spares. Some of the warriors sharpened their swords and axes, other were packing the pots and kettles as they had to travel light.

                In the commotion no one even noticed the second-in-command, Captain Leif, snatch the reins of one of the horses and pull the steed in the wrong direction. Even though he wanted to run, he forced himself to stroll casually so as not to draw any unnecessary attention. He avoided looking sideways; his gaze was set on the steep northern peeks, where Mam Naois was. His heart was pounding like he were a little boy stealing his father’s favorite horse.

                None of the soldiers neither stopped him nor asked what he was doing when Leif reached the edge of the camp and took a step outside, stepping on the narrow mountain path. With this single step, he sealed his fate – there was no going back now. A part of him wanted to be cowardly and turn back, doing what was expected of him, but Leif clenched his teeth and forced himself to keep walking. His legs felt like made of lead. Soon the soldiers’ voices became dim, and when he looked over his shoulder, he could no longer see his comrades.

                “It is done,” Leif muttered, realizing that he did it – he went against orders and followed his heart.

                Leif knew that with this single action he spit on his father’s ambitions, he threw away the bright future he had – he branded himself a deserter, a traitor of Farn. Naturally, he felt guilty about this, but a strange relief filled his heart as he reached the decision. It was as if he made a right choice, the choice he should have made sooner.

                He put his foot in the stirrup and mounted the short horse. Gathering the reins, he poked the animal with his heels and rode down the perilous path toward Mam Naois. Leif didn’t really expect that Maewyn was ever there, but he could at least ask. It was as good as any place to start his quest to find the charming Lady.

Captured

Orvik, Karhadon

                Erik stirred on the hard cold surface as strange numbness began subsiding. He felt as though he had been drifting in a void, he didn’t know how long. It could have been hours or even days, but the boy wasn’t able to count them. His lids were heavy, but Erik kept struggling to open them. Finally, he succeeded, but at first he saw the same darkness. Slowly, he blinked and his vision improved a bit. After a longer while his sight accustomed to the meager light, and he began discerning blurry shapes around him.

                Moaning he moved, his whole body was stiff and aching. It felt like hours until the boy pulled himself into the sitting position. He rubbed his eyes and took in his surroundings. He was sitting in the corner of a stone chamber, the cool, rough rock feeling uncomfortable against his skin. One of the walls was replaced by a row of incredibly thick iron bars. Darkness ruled around him, lit only by a single oil lamp in the corridor outside the cell. The air was reeked of mustiness, so the boy figured out that he was probably underground.

                Erik turned his heavy head right and saw two familiar silhouettes: they were Baltar and the witch of Riada Swamp, Lavena. The elderly woman was treating the demon’s wounds, shaking her head with worry. The huge muscled man sat still with his eyes closed. He looked battered, his armor in pieces, nasty cuts and bruises all over his body-it seemed that Baltar had been tortured before.

                Crouching in another corner of the cell, sat an unfamiliar girl. She was a few years older than Erik; her fair skin and blonde hair were typical for the majority of the Callesmere Empire’s citizens. When the boy stirred, she lifted her head and looked at him for a moment with her bloodshot azure eyes, but quickly averted her gaze and buried her face in her arms. With her knees pulled up to her chest, she gave off an impression, as though she would like to disappear.

                Erik tried to call out to his cell-mates, but his throat was so dry that he couldn’t make a sound. Nevertheless, Lavena heard the movement and turned toward the boy.

                “Erik!” she breathed out, her voice betraying the exhaustion. “You’re awake!”

                The boy nodded and licked his dry cracked lips.

                Baltar opened his eyes and smiled lightly.

                “You alright, kid?” he asked in his raspy voice.

                Erik nodded once again.

                “Y-yes,” he croaked, feeling as though he had sand in his throat. The boy gathered his strength and crawled closer to Baltar and Lavena. At first, he was hesitant to approach Aedain’s companion, but he assumed it was safe – after all the witch showed no sign of fear. Erik stared at the bars.

                “Where are we?” he whispered, instinctively moving closer to Lavena.

                The witch sighed heavily, uneasiness mixing with sadness on her wrinkled face.

                “Honestly I have no idea,” she replied, finishing dressing a fairly deep wound on Baltar’s shoulder. “However, I do know who kidnapped us: Zhawn. It should be impossible, but he’s somehow alive.”

                Erik bit his lower lip, thinking of something intensely.

                “Madam, those two from before, the ones with the red-hair. Were they demons?” the boy asked. He glanced at Baltar, who was blankly staring at the opposite wall. “I mean, I saw their eyes; they were red. Demons are supposed to have golden eyes like Baltar or like… me.”

                Lavena furrowed her brows, troubled look on her face as she nodded slowly.

                “I don’t know what kind of creatures they are,” she whispered. Erik discerned nervousness in her voice. This anxiety made him fear even more for everything that scared Lavena that much had to be awful.

                “We have to run away,” Erik stated the obvious and looked at his inmates.

                Lavena hung her head while Baltar snorted humorlessly.

                “We tried that already, kid,” the demon muttered, pointing at the bars. “The damn things won’t budge. Even the hag’s magic was useless. We did our best, but in the end, I got beaten up, and she received nice shackles.”

                Erik’s gaze shifted to Lavena’s wrists. Massive iron bracelets were hugging them; there was no chain attached, but the boy spotted some strange patterns etched in them. Probably, they were some artifact meant to contain the woman’s power.

                The boy felt silent, pulling his knees to his chest. He rested his chin on them and held in a depressed sob. He clenched his jaws and hurriedly wiped the tears out of the corners of his eyes. No one of their three-people group was in a mood for conversation, the feeling of hopelessness creeping into their hearts.

                His eyes rested on the girl in the corner of their cell again. She was trembling and some muffled sounds kept escaping her throat. Erik couldn’t see her face, but he guessed, she was crying.

                “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine,” the boy spoke up, telling her an obvious lie to cheer her up, but the girl didn’t even turn her head to look at him. Erik sighed and tried again. “Look, I know it may seem hopeless, but there’s always a solution. A friend of mine would say that.”

                However, no matter what he said, the sobbing girl wasn’t willing to have a conversation with him.

                “It’s no use kid,” Baltar said, pointing at her with his finger. “We tried speaking to her, but she doesn’t seem to understand either the human language or Laismaran. She’s retarded, probably. Or gone crazy.”

                When the demon spoke, the blonde girl peeked carefully, eying him with utter horror reflecting in her blue eyes. She motioned herself even closer to the wall, as far away from Baltar as possible. Erik noticed that her cheeks were wet. When Baltar glanced toward her, she hid her face in her hands again like her life depended on avoiding the eye-contact with anyone.

                The boy sighed, feeling that it was hopeless to try to talk to her. He flinched, when he heard a weak sound coming from the darkness; it was some child wailing. A female voice tried to comfort the infant, but the baby only kept crying louder. Erik clasped his eyes shut. Then he heard the woman sing a lullaby, her smooth youthful voice soothing the nerves. Erik stood up and walked to the bars.

                “Hello?” he called into the darkness.

                The singing stopped, for a moment the silence was torturing and felt suffocating. Then the young woman responded.

                “Hello.”

                Erik stared ahead and made out the outline of a person in the cell across his own. The woman was holding a bundle in her arms. The boy squinted his eyes, trying to see better in the dim light. He noticed that the young woman was smiling at him despite being malnourished and exhausted. Erik smiled back to her, feeling that this simple gesture brightened the darkness reigning in his heart.

                “Your baby, it’s a girl or a boy?” he asked, pointing his finger at the loud bundle.

                The woman, who didn’t look older than May, rocked the child in her arms, gazing at it with motherly pride.

                “It’s my baby girl. Her name is Una.”

                Erik’s face expression softened as he looked at the young mother and her baby. He wanted to say something more to her, when he heard the creaking of massive rusty hinges. Disturbed and curious, he tried to pinpoint the source of the sound. Soon enough somewhere further from the cell the reddish light of the torch illuminated the impenetrable darkness.

                “Get out!” The boy heard male voices yelling the commands.

                Then the screams followed: other people imprisoned in this foul place began wailing, shrieking and pleading for life. Confused and scared, Erik took a step away from the bars. He glanced at the woman from the neighboring cell. She stared back at the boy, clutching her infant daughter protectively, her pale lips trembling from panic.

                Erik’s hands began shaking more violently as the screams were nearing his cell. The boy could barely hear them because of the hum of his blood in his ears. He glued his back to the uneven rough surface of the stone wall and waited for the inevitable, knowing that his turn was nearing.

                The older blonde girl looked even more scared than he was. She jumped to her feet and tried to find the refuge right next to him, in the uncertain safety of the dark corner. Tears were streaming down her face, her perfectly-shaped pinks were trembling. She dug her fingers into the wall, scraping the stone surface with her fingernails, as though she needed to hold on to something. Her breathing was hitched and the eyes blue like the sky reflected the absolute fear.

                Erik muffled a yelp as the torch nearly blinded him. He was blinking rapidly, having trouble accustoming to the strong light. Erik discerned the silhouettes of four people. Two of them were all too familiar – they were the duo that killed Aedain and kidnapped the boy along with Baltar and Lavena. The silhouette of a man wrapped tightly in a gray, hooded cloak had to be Zhawn’s, but Erik had no idea who was the fourth person.  A tall, pale woman, clad in white and with the hair fair like the first snow of the winter seemed almost to shine.

                “Open,” Zhawn ordered and the twins with the hair like fire opened the door to the young woman’s cell.

                She let out a terrified sob and ran to the far corner of the cell, shielding her baby girl with her frail body. Erik knew he shouldn’t look, but he couldn’t avert his gaze. He observed as one of the twins approached the struggling woman and dragged her before the cloaked man, forcing her onto her knees.

                “No, please!” the girl was begging, but they were deaf to her pleas.

                “She’s young and her soul is fairly strong,” one of the red-haired youths stated with a terrifying smile gracing his full lips.

                “She will do,” the other one said.

                Zhawn nodded and made a gesture with his hand.

                “Take her,” he commanded dryly.

                The young girl tried to struggle; she was screaming.

                “No, let me go!” she kept shouting. “What are you doing! My baby!”

                Erik’s golden eyes widened in horror, as he witnessed one of the red-haired men tearing the infant from its mother’s embrace and handing the wailing baby to Zhawn. He laid his gloved hand on the child’s head, gently as though he wanted to calm the crying infant. Then he grabbed the tiny head firmer and squeezed it, smashing the little skull in his fingers like an eggshell.

                The young mother was staring at the remains of her daughter blankly like she didn’t want to believe her eyes.

                “Una!” the desperate cry shattered the silence.

                The blonde girl, Erik was sharing the cell with, shrieked and fell to her knees, muttering something in a language he didn’t understand. When he looked down, he saw violent torsions shake her body moments before she started vomiting.

                Erik was holding his breath in, seeing one of the red-haired minions drag Una’s mother away; she was screaming. The boy was like paralyzed, shocked by the nightmare which was happening right now.

                “Open it,” the raspy voice of Una’s murderer spoke again, and the door to Erik’s cell opened.

                The hooded man surveyed the cell, looking at the prisoners. An amused chuckle escaped his throat as he wiped the palm covered in the pink remains of the baby’s brain.

                “Our newest guests,” he said, paying the most attention to Baltar and Lavena. “Pity that Kaellach’s son died so quickly. I had barely time to enjoy seeing him suffer. Oh well, sometimes we just can’t get what we want, don’t you agree?”

                At the mention of Aedain, Baltar sprang to his feet, clenching the big calloused fists and glaring at the man with open fury. The huge bald demon was growling, the golden eyes reflecting the light from the torch.

                Zhawn only laughed in response to Baltar’s reaction and reached to his hood with the gloved hands. Slowly, he pulled the heavy fabric down, unveiling his disfigured face. Baltar sharply inhaled, taking in the grotesque features of the old enemy.

                “How’s it possible that you’re still alive?” Baltar coughed out.

                Zhawn smiled slightly.

                “That, royal guard, is my secret,” he whispered, before turning to his associates.

                “Nesrin, is any of them appropriate?” Zhawn asked, the tone of his voice casual.

                The woman, who, until now, was standing aside stepped forward and gracefully walked into the cell. As she set a foot inside, the temperature instantly dropped. She glided past Baltar, sending the massive demon only a fleeting glance.

                “The soul must belong to a human,” she sighed, moving to Lavena, who caught her interest.

                The woman in white was warily observing the elderly witch. She cocked her head to the side.

                “This one has an exceptionally strong soul,” Nesrin said. “But she’s too old. Her body won’t withstand the transformation.”

                Leaving Lavena, the woman walked over to the blonde girl, who was covering on the floor with her hands over her ears and eyes set on the floor before her.

                “Young,” Nesrin assessed, reaching out to stroke the golden hair. The girl shook like a leaf in the wind, but didn’t move – apparently she was so terrified that she wouldn’t even think of fighting back. Nesrin looked at one of the fire youths and nodded, stepping back. “She will do nicely.”

                Erik could only watch one of the red-haired monsters step in and grab the girl by her fair tresses, forcefully yank her up. She was wailing and screaming something, but Zhawn’s minion knew no pity. He dragged her outside the cell and tossed her to human soldiers, who took her away. That was the last Erik saw of his quiet cellmate.

                Once the girl had been taken away, the boy glued against the wall. He winced when Nesrin took hold of his chin and forced him to look into her eerie pale eyes. She furrowed her brows like she was considering something. The boy saw a strange expression light her eyes for a split second: a hint of sadness.

                “The boy is appropriate. He has a strong soul,” the red-haired youth spoke, stalking over to the boy.

                Erik froze in terror, his breathing hitched. He tried to wriggle away, but the man with hair like fire slammed his hand in the wall above his head. The boy yelped, startled. The man was about to grab him and drag out of the cell, when suddenly he got knocked from his feet.

                The boy blinked and saw Baltar in front of him. The muscular demon looked like fury incarnated; the veins were pulsing erratically on his neck and temples, golden eyes glaring daggers. The swift attack caught the red-haired youth by surprise; Nesrin barely managed to jump out of Baltar’s way. Even Zhawn narrowed his eyes, not expecting the dragon to act so suddenly.

                Not taking his angered eyes off the enemies, Baltar reached out and firmly gripped Erik’s shoulder. He yanked the boy’s arm and tossed him into the corner of the cell. Then the bald demon positioned himself between Erik and Zhawn, assuming a battle stance.

                “Get away from the boy,” Baltar growled, clenching his fists.

                For a short moment, Zhawn and his two minions were staring at the demon with genuine surprise in their eyes, but it disappeared swiftly.

                Zhawn’s laughter rang, echoing across the underground dungeon.

                “You are quite a joker, aren’t you?” the cloaked man said with mockery, amusement still present in his raspy voice. Zhawn glanced at his male underling.

                “Get the child,” he ordered. “You may dispose of whatever stands in your way.”

                The red-haired man gracefully sprang to his feet and approached Baltar. The massively-built demon was eying the enemy, ready to attack and defend Erik.

                Nesrin’s eyes were set on Baltar, who was making his stand, probably the last one before dying. Still, the demon showed neither fear not doubt. The woman’s gaze wandered to the child who was cowering behind the big Laismaran warrior. The boy was so young; he could have a long life ahead of him, a real life. He still had a chance to experience love, joys of having a family, feeling the freedom.

                Not like me, the white-haired woman thought. Nesrin had been deprived off all this the day she had been changed. A soul in exchange for power was a high price to pay, too high.

                “Wait!” Nesrin suddenly raised her voice as she approached the red-haired youth and laid a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “The boy is useless. He is not a human. The Laismaran blood flows through his veins.”

                Zhawn looked at her sharply.

                “What?” he asked.

                Nesrin smiled gracefully, hiding her nervousness. She glanced toward Baltar and Erik.

                “The golden eyes are the common trait of all the Laismarans, are they not?” she asked rhetorically, calmly taking her place at Zhawn’s side.

                Her superior scowled, visibly displeased.

                “The ship is waiting,” Zhawn hissed out through the clenched teeth and left, his heavy cloak billowing after him.

                The heavy door to the cell closed and the two minions followed their master. When she was walking away, Nesrin glanced over her shoulder and sent Baltar and Erik a quizzical smile.

                Once the rusty iron fringes creaked again, darkness returned to the dungeon, lit only by a single oil lamp. The three prisoners cautiously breathed out with relief. Erik looked up at the bald demon, who had saved him from being taken by Zhawn. The boy tugged his torn shirt and waited until Baltar gazed down on him.

                “Thank you,” Erik said solemnly.

                Baltar nodded, acknowledging Erik’s words. As he was looking at the small blonde kid before him, he got reminded of another boy. That one was a bit taller, his dark hair gathered in a messy ponytail and was a bossy little bastard. He too once thanked Baltar for saving him from people who wanted him dead. But Baltar had failed that boy; he had let him die.

                The Laismaran yelled, slamming his fist into the stone wall. All the suppressed grief flooded his heart. The feeling of failure was unbearable. The warrior clenched his teeth and hit the wall once again. He, Baltar, was supposed to guard that boy, the prince, at the cost of his life and yet Aedain was dead while he was still alive! How would he face his ancestors in the afterlife, among the stars?

                Baltar felt a small fingers clutch his forearm with determination.

                “Thank you,” Erik repeated, still smiling at Baltar weakly.

Mam Naois

Dulheim

                The snow-covered peaks of the Diggerholm. Mountains were bathing in the sharp, red light of the setting sun which made them look like spears caked in blood. The mountains built the natural border between Dulheim and Karhadon, with only one gate in the midst of towering peaks – the pass called Mam Naois which was now right before May’s eyes.

                “Impressive,” May whispered as she admired the path into the passageway to Karhadon. Before her and Aedain loomed a checkpoint build around a massive gate. The incredibly heavy iron door was wide open; the Dulheim’s soldiers were watching travelers warily, but made no move to bother the people. May and Aedain dismounted the exhausted horse and set it free – the horse was wobbling on its legs, giving off an impression than soon they would have to push it to get it moving. They mixed into the crowd with ease.

                Before riding to Mam Naois, they had made a brief pause at some remote village. Aedain had easily convinced, or rather threatened, the farmers to give them a fresh horse in exchange for the one they stole before. May thought that a man dressed in nothing but bloodied pants and a girl in a T-shirt with shorts would draw too much of an unwanted attention. Therefore, she asked the peasants to lend her and the demon some of the plain, linen clothing. With Aedain looking over her shoulder at them like an executioner ready to perform his duty, they didn’t say no.

                Now, both dressed in peasant clothes, tired and dirty; they didn’t catch anyone’s attention.

                “Do not stay behind,” Aedain reprimanded May. She nodded, taking the last glance at the two enormous stone statues of bears at the gate – the symbol of Dulheim, which represented both the strength and endurance of people inhabiting the northern dukedom.

                May’s heart felt like stopping when she set her foot on the stone road behind the gate. With the corner of her eye, she was observing the soldiers, but they didn’t even ask the travelers for names. She motioned herself closer to Aedain, wanting to share her doubts.

                “Don’t you think it went too easy?” May asked him, but the demon looked at her with pity, smirking mockingly.

                “Are you blind?” he replied with a question. “Look around you and tell me what would be easier – getting in or getting out of here?”

                May frowned, but bit her tongue, too tired to join Aedain in the game of insulting each other. She gazed around, noticing that Mam Naois was a half-natural mountain pass, but the walls on both sides were smooth and tall, cut in rock to form a straight, fairly broad tunnel leading through the Diggerholm Mountains. The walls seemed to be perfectly polished, they almost gleamed, lit by the lanterns which were positioned on the whole length of the pass.

                “It’s pretty much a trap, isn’t it?” May sighed, feeling her nervousness spike. If not that she saw a lot of travelers leave Mam Naois through the gate to Dulheim, she’d think that the decision to take this route had been utterly stupid. May felt Aedain staring at her; at first, she ignored it, but it was getting more and more uncomfortable. She glanced back at the demon. “What?”

                Aedain huffed, his slightly curious look in his eyes turning into a full-fledged malicious glare, which was supposed to put May in line. However, when he saw his attempts to intimidate her fail he averted his gaze from her. It didn’t last long though – May spotted him glancing at her from time to time in a peculiar way.

                “Are you not afraid?” he finally asked. May arched her eyebrow, startled that Aedain was actually trying to initiate a conversation with her. As she didn’t answer his question, the demon asked again. “When we reach our destination, your life will be in danger. You may die, and yet you are set on…”

                Aedain didn’t finish, pointing at the travelers who could overhear their conversation.

                May gawked at the demon, not used to hear him talk that much, especially without adding any death threats and offensive remarks.

                “I’m scared out of my wits.” She clenched her fist as emotion lit her green eyes. “But I promised my sister, we’ll return home, so I won’t die no matter what, not before I get Hailey back.”

                Aedain barely refrained himself from smiling when he saw the determinate look on May’s face.

                “It is fortunate that you were born a weak human, for otherwise you could prove dangerous.” A strange expression appeared on his face, which made May stare at her feet wondering what the heck did he mean by that comment.

                The road was covered in even granite slabs which made the traveling easier and quicker, but it still took hours to cover first half of the distance. The sun hid beneath the horizon, but the sea of lanterns illuminated Mam Nois well. May yawned, rubbing her eyes, feeling she could fall asleep while walking. It was a miracle that she had managed to keep up with Aedain; her legs felt heavy and stiff like logs when she was moving them mechanically. One step after another and she repeated that thousands of times until a dark tower appeared before her tired eyes.

                “Aedain, what’s that?” May pointed her finger at the building and the people in the distance; they seemed just to stand in place, not moving.

                The demon narrowed his eyes.

                “The checkpoint,” he replied. Aedain noticed with a corner of his eye that May began slowing down so he grabbed her sleeve and jerked it, preventing her from losing her momentum – if she stopped walking now, she would surely collapse and fall asleep right away.

                May nodded, her head swaying and kept walking until she and Aedain caught up with the crowd gathered before the checkpoint. Her lids were getting weighty when a piercing sound of horn cut through the peaceful silence, making her much more lively all of a sudden. The people waiting to pass the gates of the tower let out a collective sigh, accompanied by hefty curses and whining of the disappointed. May stared at them as they sat down under one of the walls, not moving an inch forward even though there was a lot of space.

                “Hello, you two are in line after us,” some woman informed May and Aedain while outstretching a woolen blanket on the cold granite road. Like the other travelers, she seemed to be upset. “It’s those cursed Karhadonians. They let only about hundred people at time and then close the checkpoint for  hours.”

                Aedain scowled, glaring at the tower like it would make its gates bust open.

                “How long is it going to take?” he asked, his voice harsh and demanding. The woman flinched and lowered her gaze, apparently intimidated by the rude demon.

                “Hard to tell, I think they will let us in before dawn,” she mumbled, directing her words rather at May than at Aedain.

                “Hai… Damn,” the demon cursed, in the last moment remembering that he should swear in the human language instead of Laismaran. With a majestic scowl gracing his face, he sat down, leaning his back against the stone wall. May could almost feel the aura of anger and frustration emanating from her demonic companion.

                The middle-aged woman who was in the line before the pair sensed the threat as well and motioned herself away from Aedain, shielding a young girl, probably her daughter from his eyes. When May sat between her and Aedain, the woman calmed down a little.

                “My name is Herdis,” she said, traces of nervousness present in her voice. “So, you too travel to Karhadon?”

                “That’s right.” May nodded. Herdis smiled.

                “I’m heading to Orvik, the capital, together with Gest, my father-in-law, and my daughter Dotta,” Herdis chatted, not even bothering to wait for May to introduce herself. She pointed with her finger at two sleeping forms; the elderly man was snoring loudly next to a girl who looked like she was in the same age as May’s sister Hailey. Herdis sighed. “We heard that there’s plenty of jobs in Orvik  and free housing, everyone says the war is coming, so they need people to make weapons. With my husband dead and I have no money saved, and I have to feed my Dotta somehow.”

                May nodded with compassion, wondering if she should tell the woman that Orvik may be not the best destination right now, when everything indicated it was Zhawn’s lair. Perhaps she should drop a suggestion?

                “I see,” she replied as one particular detail caught her attention. “Herdis, that war you was talking about… Can you tell me more?”

                The teenage girl Dotta suddenly sat upright, as though she only had pretended to sleep, and nodded enthusiastically, eager to join in the conversation.

                “Karhadon’s Duke Royse wants to punish Farn for what Lady Maewyn did.” She hurried with an explanation. When she saw that May was staring at her with her jaw slack, as though still processing the information, she tilted her head. With her eyes wide opened from shock, she she gasped theatrically, covering her mouth with her palm. “Oh, you don’t know who Lady Maewyn is. She’s the daughter of Duke Thoen from Farn.”

                Dotta rolled her eyes at May’s ignorance, not knowing that the person who she was talking about was right before her eyes. Actually, she was Lady Maewyn’s impersonator. Nevertheless, May was startled by the news – she was in the Thoen Stronghold just weeks ago and everything was fine. How came that Karhadon and Farn were at war suddenly?

                “Anyway,” Dotta continued. “Lady Maewyn betrayed Lord Abbran. Do you know who Lord Abrran was?”

                May nodded slowly – she perfectly remembered that dandy. However, she didn’t recall betraying him in any way. The last time she saw him was when…

                She stiffened. Hurriedly, she glanced at sleeping Aedain. The demon was napping beside her, his face was peaceful and in this moment he looked quite innocent for a man who didn’t even blink before killing people.

                “Why the past tense?” May averted her attention off Aedain and looked Dotta straight in the eye. “Why did you say Abrran ‘was’?”

                Before Dotta could answer her question, Herdis cut in.

                “So you didn’t hear about it.” She wrapped a thickly-woven, slightly dirty blanket around Dotta’s shoulders. She made an extra effort to ensure that the cold night air wouldn’t brush against her daughter’s neck. “Not even a lunar cycle passed since Abrran was killed in Farn in a demon attack.”

                May could feel the demon shifting in his sleep beside her, unaware that he was the centre of the conversation. Herdis looked around nervously, checking if anyone was spying on her. The other travelers were minding their own business though. She lowered the tone of her voice, as though she was telling a heavily-guarded secret.

                “You see, people in my town said that Lord Abrran’s fiancé, Lady Maewyn, was in collusion with that demon. One of the merchants swore on the goddess Illiana that the Lady wanted to elope with the monster, but Lord Abrran was in the way, and that’s why he had to die. Anyway, Duke Royse declared war upon Farn, everything because of the Lady’s whim,” the middle-aged woman shared her knowledge.

                May stared at Herdis, processing what she just heard. She was speechless. Did she get it right? Did Abrran’s father start the war with Farn just because Aedain…  she glanced swiftly at the demon, the very culprit responsible for giving Duke Royse the reason to start a war. The said monster was resting with his eyes closed and his chest rising rhythmically, oblivious to the damage he had done.

                “I don’t blame the Lady from Farn,” Dotta joined the discussion, a dreamy spark playing in her eyes. “I mean if she fell in love…”

                “Dotta!” Herdis harshly reprimanded her daughter. “It’s a demon we’re talking about, a demon!”

                “Still if the demon…” the young girl began, but her mother cut in.

                “Dotta, a young woman should be seen, not heard,” Herdis scolded her daughter.

                May forced the muscles on her face to maintain a polite smile, not to betray that the heroes of the strongly twisted tale were sitting right next to Herdis and Dotta. May didn’t even notice when Herdis’ father-in-law stopped snoring.

                “Stupid women,” the elderly man huffed, pulling himself up. “You know nothing about wars. Men wage them not for pretty girls, but for money, power and land. This incident with the Duke’s daughter and the demon was only a pretense to get the troops to march out.”

                Herdis and Dotta scowled, not happy that Gest dismissed the exciting rumors as female silliness, but May breathed out with relief. The conversation was just a cherry on the top of the cake of horrors. Not only she was stranded in some alien world far from her family, on her way to free her sister and friends from the clutches of some mysterious awfully strong beings without a plan, but also she had learned that she was a reason to start a war between the two Dukedoms. Simply wonderful!

                She should probably hate Aedain for murdering Abrran and triggering the war, but she couldn’t afford to do this. Hailey’s life depended on the cooperation with the dragon prince. His strength was virtually the only weapon May had.

                To make the matters worse, she and her companion were on the enemy’s territory. To a whole bunch of people, May was Lady Maewyn and she was pretty sure that she and Aedain were enemies number one in Karhadon. If there wasn’t any trouble besides this! Was it really safe to go through the checkpoint?

                “Miss, you’re feeling well?” Dotta asked, worry on her face. “You’re a little bit pale.”

                “I’m alright,” May said quickly, forcing herself to smile. “Just tired.”

                “Wake up, wake up!” May groaned, feeling someone jerk her shoulder repeatedly. When her eyes fluttered open she was Herdis’ face. “They’ve just opened the checkpoint.”

                May nodded, still half asleep and tried to get up, but her body felt like after a fierce sparring with a pro wrestler – her joints refused to move, stiff from sleeping in the sitting position. Clumsily trying to warm up her muscles, May glanced at her accomplice. Aedain’s long, black hair was hanging like a curtain, hiding his face.

                “Come on,” she said, but the demon didn’t move an inch. May furrowed her brows and poked his shoulder with her finger. However, Aedain didn’t even flinch, much less opened his eyes. May furrowed her brows, concerned, and was about to call his name when the demon woke up. Not even looking at her, he stood up, swaying slightly on his legs as his body was exhausted from the lost fight and the long journey.

                May bit her lower lip, wondering how Aedain planned to take Zhawn down if he was in such a miserable condition. When she saw Aedain reach for the bundle with his swords using his left hand, pity for him flickered in her heart – the demon’s motionless, crooked fingers slid over the fabric clumsily. Aedain muttered a curse and snatched the bundle with his other hand before he glided past May. He pretended she wasn’t there and therefore she hadn’t just witnessed his weakness.

                She didn’t even utter a word, afraid to upset the Laismaran warrior more. May was becoming tense herself, with each step toward the checkpoint towering over Mam Naois, the fear of getting captured intensified. The travelers were slowly but surely moving forward, obediently standing in a perfectly straight line. She squeezed between Aedain and Herdis’ family.

                “Move forward!” She heard the calling of one of the guards.

                Her heart rode up her throat as the heavily armed men were ushering Herdis’ father-in-law and daughter to pass the gate already. May found it odd though, that the guards didn’t even bother to ask the travelers for names.

                When her turn came, May clenched her teeth and evoked a little smile on her lips, trying to appear less nervous while she was barely refraining herself from trembling. Her hands felt sweaty as she was walking past the guards, who fortunately didn’t even spare her a second glance. May was about to let out a relieved breath when she heard:

                “One hundred, that’s the last one for now. Let’s close the gates,” a soldier said.

                May looked over her shoulder and froze, terrified, seeing the guards cross their spears right in front of Aedain, blocking the demon’s way.

                “Step back, you’ll pass the checkpoint in a couple of hours,” one of the soldiers said in a monotone voice, trying to shove Aedain backwards with the pole of his spear. May’s eyes widened when she saw the particular look on the demon’s face which usually proceeded a slaughter – she had to intervene.

                “Wait,” she called to the soldiers as she came back for Aedain. “We’re together!”

                The guards simultaneously arched their eyebrows and critically scanned May up and down, noticing her peasant clothing and dirt on her skin. One of them spit on the ground.

                “We let a hundred people at time, no exceptions,” he said. “Your man will be joining you in a couple of hours, so just go ahead.”

                May bit her lower lip and looked at Aedain who was controlling his fiery temper surprisingly well. The demon took a step back and nodded to the girl.

                “Go,” he said and backed away from the gate.

                May observed the heavy iron door close, the rusty hinges creak. Then, she turned around and ran to join Herdis and her family.

                Leif took out the rope hidden beneath his clothing and unsaddled the mountain horse which had carried him all the way to Mam Naois. The animal neighed as though it was hesitant to part, but Leif picked up the leather reins and slapped the horse, chasing it away to live in the wilderness from now on.

                The young soldier crept towards the edge of the stone wall of Mam Naois and cautiously peeked from behind it, observing the travelers rushing towards Karhadon. Leif wondered if the commotion he had heard before was a product of his imagination or the howling of the wind – he could have sworn that the source of the noise was the tunnel of Mam Naois, but now everything looked peaceful.

                Leif squinted his eyes, watching the travelers like a hawk, wanting to survey the pass from the distance first. He wrapped the cloak of thick wool tightly around his frame, expecting to remain on the observation post for hours. He glanced at the gloomy checkpoint tower and the Gate of Karhadon looming in the distance. Much to his surprise, no soldier was patrolling the space between the two sites. His gaze was sliding over each person who passed by.

                One person caught his attention for the split second, but he dismissed it – the girl with short, dirty hair couldn’t be Maewyn. Then, as though urged by goddess Illiana herself, Leif stared at the peasant woman who looked somewhat familiar. Her appearance was nothing like that of a well-bred Lady and her way of walking was strange, as though her feet were covered in blisters and every step was painful for her.

                “Impossible,” Leif muttered, recognizing Maewyn’s face features under the layer of dust and the tangled bangs. The daughter of Duke Thoen looked miserable and exhausted, but there was no doubt – she was right before his eyes. His quest must have been blessed!

                Leif felt a surge of energy as he grabbed the rope tighter and began tying a little anchor to the end of it. Only a while longer and he would save Maewyn. But, what was she doing on her way to Karhadon? Didn’t she know that Farn and Karhadon were at war?

                After he finished preparing the climbing equipment, Leif wanted to use the rope to go down the wall straight to Maewyn, but he spotted something disturbing from the high place at the top of the wall. Leif’s heartbeat quickened as one of his greatest nightmares was about to occur before his very eyes. He wanted to call out to Maewyn to warn her – the people below couldn’t have seen what he did. However, that would be of no use as there was no escape from Mam Naois for her now.

                Leif squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the screams of terror.

Fields of Karhadon

The Border between Farn and Karhadon

                Fierce battle cries and screams of agony dominated the noise of swords clashing together, as the battle on hills of Karhadon raged, devouring many lives. The soil was wet from the spilled blood of the fallen. The corpses of soldiers and their steeds covered the battlefield, making the survivors trip over these carcasses. The chaos reigned here – the disoriented and frightened warriors, many of them barely older than children, mindlessly swung their weapons at friends and foes, not able to distinguish who was who. The Farn troops wore blue tunics with a golden rose over their chainmail while the emblem of the Karhadonians was a fish, but bathed in blood, everyone looked the same.

                The forces of Karhadon and Farn were fighting for many hours already, the two huge armies joined in a never ending dance of swift charges, attempts to flank the enemy and retreats. Each maneuver claimed the lives of soldiers, but there was no end to the battle. It seemed that the two hostile forces were destined to wipe each other out this day, until not one man would be left alive.

                “My lord, Duke!” One of the blood smeared youngsters was fighting his way through to the leader of Farn’s forces. Duke Thoen had decided to personally take part in the battle, unlike Duke Royse who remained in the safety of the Red Castle in Orvik. Thoen’s tunic was stained with Karhadonian blood and the red droplets were seeping from the tip of his sword. The Duke glanced at the young messenger.

                “Let him through,” the elderly general Vangard commanded. Like Thoen, Vanguard was a warrior who never failed to answer to the duty’s call in spite of his age.

                The young man tried to wipe his face with his palm in order to appear more tidy in the presence of the ruler, but he only smeared the blood more across his whole face. He looked around nervously, expecting the fierce Karhaonians lash at him any minute, but Farn’s finest soldiers surrounded the Duke and general Vanguard, viciously killing every enemy who dared to threaten Thoen’s life.

                “What’s the matter?” the Duke asked, craning his neck to see how the left flank was doing – it looked like they just barely avoided a trap and were retreating.

                “Sire, the army!” the youngster exclaimed. If his face was cleaner, a bright flush would grace his cheeks. He pointed his finger eastwards. “The army is coming!”

                Thoen graced the messenger with a disapproving glare of his piercing green eyes, making him feel like the most foolish of maggots.

                “It is hard to miss, boy,” Duke Thoen snapped, changing the grip on his sword. “There are over twelve thousand Karhadonians here!”

                The Duke kicked the sides of his massive battle steed, ushering the animal to return to the hell of battle so that Thoen could aid his people in the fight. However, the messenger dashed forward and desperately clutched the Duke’s saddle. Looking up at his ruler with desperation and fear, he yelled:

                “Not the Karhadonians, another army just arrived!”

                The Duke froze and looked eastwards, in the direction were the youngster was pointing, but he saw only the mass of steel and bodies, clamped together in a ferocious fight to life or death, as far as the eye could see. Perhaps if the sounds of raging battle hadn’t been so overwhelming, he would have heard the characteristic hymn played on horns.

                “Duke, there!” Vangard pointed with his finger at the top of the hills. Thoen brought his hand to his face, shielding his eyes from the bright sun and squinted his eyes. He barely could discern the dark shapes that looked like a forest emerging from behind the hill, a forest of spears. A tiny piece of material batted in the wind and only the Vangard’s keen eye spotted the emblem.

                “Scales,” he said loudly. “Sigarda has come.”

                When Sigarda’s army showed on the battlefield, an unnatural silence fell like a sound-consuming fog as the soldiers ceased fighting and stared at the hills. They were wondering if the troops of the neighboring dukedom came to aid or to ensure the demise. The moment of truth came when the Sigarda’s riders rushed down the hill in an impeccable formation.

                Duke Thoen and his comrades held their breaths, observing the army and praying to mother goddess Illiana for them not to turn left, toward the Farn troops. It flickered through the Duke’s mind that the Karhadonians had to think the same. The charging Sigardans lowered their long spears. It looked as though they were heading in the midst of the fight, but they suddenly turned, encircling Karhadon’s army.

                Thoen reacted right away. Not minding his escort, he made his steed jump forward.

                “Attack!” he yelled and rode to meet the enemy, with his soldiers and general Vangard speeding to catch up to him. With a new found energy, Thoen slaughtered the enemies, trying not to see the scared boys they were.

                The Sigardan army managed to get to the back of Karhadon’s army and advanced at them, piercing the unsuspecting soldiers with the long spears. The sudden attack of the new force disoriented the Duke Royse’s troops that were caught between a rock and a hard place with the enemy surrounding them. The participation of Thoen additionally raised Farnians morale, leaving their enemy without a ghost of a chance.

                Despite the enormous advantage both in numbers and tactics, the battle lasted for many hours since Sigarda had showed on the field. Even when Karhadon’s defeat was obvious, the soldiers refused to give up without a fight and only under a thousand were taken captive. Duke Thoen was sad that the warriors were forced to perform the duties of butchers.

                The Sigardans were helping with the unpleasant deed and finally their delegation made its way across the grim battle ground to greet Thoen. As their leader removed the helmet, Farn’s Duke recognized him as one of the numerous sons of Duke Erwyn. There was no doubt about that – the long nose and wild, curly hair betrayed the man’s heritage.

                “Duke Thoen!” Lord Erwyn called, bowing his head with respect.

                Thoen returned the gesture and motioned his steed to approach the Siagardians.

                “You came unexpected,” he stated the fact which made young Erwyn grin boyishly.

                “Believe me, Duke, I was as surprised as you when three days ago my father commanded me to board the army on every ship we could find and sail to Karhadon,” Erwyn said.

                “And what purpose Duke Royse has? I will not believe that he is simply generous.” Duke Thoen looked at the Sigardian with suspicion. “Does your father want territory, profits?”

                Erwyn shook his head, the pleased grin disappearing from his face.

                “None of these,” he said shortly. “I wish my father explained it to me, but he didn’t… One day he saw one of his spies and then he said to me: ‘Son, we must prevent the events from eighty years ago from happening again.’”

                Duke Thoen furrowed his brows, deep in thought. Eighty years ago? He remembered that young Abrran, Royse’s son, mentioned it while he was staying in Farn. Could it be a coincidence? He shook his head, berating himself for foolishness – Zhawn was dead, Thoen’s grandfather had seen his massacred body after demon king Kaellach, the great crimson dragon, had killed him. But, an odd sensation, his intuition, called him to Orvik.

                “Vangard, take half of the troops back to Farn,” he ordered. “I’ll lead the rest to Orvik to aid Soren. Will you be going with me, Lord Erwyn?”

                Thoen looked at the man with the incredibly long nose expectantly and Erwyn didn’t disappoint him. He nodded, the cheerful, boyish grin returning onto his lips.

                “To Orvik!”

The Trap

Mam Naois

                I hope the damn woman did not wander off far, Aedain thought. He crossed the gate of Checkpoint Tower; the human soldiers opened it several hours after May left. He scowled while passing the guards, wishing he could just resolve the problem in a simple way, like he always did, and kill them. However, as much as he liked the idea, he was not foolish enough to risk opening his wounds again. Due to the exhausting ride, his strength was only a fraction of his usual stamina. The injuries healed a lot slower than normally. If he wanted to face Zhawn without his intestines falling out, Aedain had to avoid fighting at all costs now.

                He inhaled the air, trying to locate the woman, but her scent was faint, mingling with the stench of numerous other humans. It lingered in the air like a shadow of a trace, what meant she was long gone. Aedain frowned, not feeling enthusiastic about the perspective of chasing after her.  He clenched his teeth and quickened the pace, wincing as the dull pain in his limbs intensified from straining his muscles.

                When the path between the Checkpoint Tower and the Gate of Karhadon filled with travelers again, Leif hooked the anchor on the top of the wall and tugged the thick rope.  He made sure the anchor was holding well. Taking advantage of the gap in the stream of incoming people, he jumped over the edge and lowered himself to the granite slabs building the road. Behaving casually, as though he hadn’t just arrived there from outside the pass, Leif followed the travelers. His hand was resting on the handle of his sword hidden beneath the woolen cloak.

                His eyes skimmed over the people, who were still unaware that they had been lured into a trap. He wondered why did Karhadonian soldiers kidnap civilians, what purpose was in this madness? He strolled casually, waiting to be abducted.

                Aedain noticed with the corner of his eye a man sneaking into the tunnel of Mam Naois from the outside, but paid no attention to him as something else was bothering him. He stared at the tiny dots on the stone road. They were appearing every now and then and smelled all too familiar. The demon stopped and knelt, swiping the dots with his fingers. When he brought the fingers to his face to examine them, he stiffened as he saw the sticky red liquid. Blood, still fresh.

                The demon clenched his fist, berating himself for his recklessness. He should have taken the longer path to one of the havens and then follow the sea route. However, blinded by the vision of the Dragonslayer’s Spear in Zhawn’s hands, he refused to listen to the voice of reason. Aedain stood up and moved along, his thoughts swirling around May. Where was she? Was she even still alive?

                Warily observing his surroundings, Aedain searched for the source of danger. So far, the only suspicious person, the man who used the rope to get to Mam Naois, was walking right behind the demon. Aedain observed him with a corner of his eye – the stranger was young, maybe a year or two older than May, but his behavior betrayed military training. It didn’t escape the demon’s attention how tense the human was; he was looking around with his hand inside his cloak, probably close to a weapon. He, like Aedain, knew something was off.

                Suddenly, the Laismaran whirled around, blocking the man’s path and startling him. Before the human had chance to flee, Aedain growled to him:

                “I would not try that.” The demon glared at the hooded man, seeing that he made a move, as though he wanted to draw his weapon. “Tell me what happened here, you know something about it.”

                The man looked sideways nervously, as though he wanted to dash and escape. Aedain took a step forward, looking as intimidating as he could. However, in a split second he got distracted when his acute hearing picked up rhythmical sounds of numerous boots  hitting the granite slabs. His nostrils filled with the stench of humans, rust and oil used to keep chain mail in shape – the ones approaching were soldiers.

                “What is going on?” the hooded man asked, seeing Aedain’s gaze wandering between the two ends of the road.

                “A trap,” the demon hissed out, hurriedly reaching to the bundle on his back for his favorite blade, Dorreach.

                Aedain heard the terrified screams of travelers as the soldiers kept marching. The people started fleeing, running toward the spot where he and the hooded human were standing. Not caring about their belongings, men, women and children were running in panic. When someone stumbled and fell, no one bothered to help him as fear made humans act like animals, driven solely by their instinct of survival.

                The soldiers armed with wooden bats were moving forward slowly but surely, shoulder by shoulder, like an impenetrable wall of iron. The fleeing travelers screamed in despair, seeing that the soldiers trapped them, surrounding them from both sides of the road. Some people tried climbing the walls of Mam Naois in a desperate attempt to escape, but their fingers were sliding on the smooth surface.

                “Cages?” the human beside Aedain whispered, his hand on the sword’s handle, but the weapon still in his sheath. The demon didn’t reply. He calmly observed the soldiers catch the ones who stayed behind and drag them to large cages on wagons situated right behind the soldiers’ row.

                “No, let go!” some woman screamed when the humans in chain mail captured her. She was wriggling and fighting back, so one of the soldiers simply hit her on the head, making her lose consciousness. Then, limp and with her head bleeding, she got thrown into the cage like a piece of meat. Aedain clutched Doreach’s handle tighter; had they done the same to May?

                “Don’t run, you won’t get hurt if you come with us quietly!” one of the soldiers yelled, but the chaos among the travelers only grew.

                Aedain muttered a curse, gluing his back against the wall not to get crushed by the panicking crowd. He saw the humans get abducted into the cages one by one as the strong hands of the warriors tore them from the rest of the people. The number of travelers caught in the trap at Mam Naois steadily decreased, more and more wagons filled.

                The struggle between the innocent civilians and the soldiers continued until only the most ferocious and desperate fighters remained. However, they were being knocked out and packed into the cages as well, and danger became more imminent to Aedain.

                The demon gritted his teeth as he lifted his sword and stepped forward – he had no intention of sharing the fate of cattle for he was a Laismaran warrior. There were no other choices for him that to kill the opponents or die fighting them. His pride and honor were at stake here and Aedain valued them even more than his life.

                “Wait,” the hooded man said, grabbing Aedain’s shoulder and shaking his head. “You can’t possibly fight them, there are too many of them!”

                “Remove your hand or I will cut it off, ” the demon hissed out and shook off the man’s arm, walking forward to face his numerous opponents.

                The soldiers noticed he was carrying a sword, and they threw their wooden bats away, drawing their own blades. Aedain surveyed the situation and estimated his chances for survival – none. If he weren’t wounded so severely, defeating the pathetic humans would be not more tiring than scratching his cheek, but now…

                “Try to capture him alive!” One of the soldiers called to his companions before the large group of warriors encircled Aedain and rushed at him, all at once trapping him in a circle of iron. The other soldiers began smirking, thinking they got rid of the troublesome traveler. The smiles vanished from their faces when Aedain whirled around, slicing their comrades in half. Dorreach effortlessly cut through the iron swords, the chainmail and soldiers’ bodies.

                However, Aedain’s luck ended there. The soldiers were not so stupid to repeat their mistake and instead of close combat, they went with a distance attack. A hail of arrows fell on Aedain, oddly aimed at the lower parts of his body. The demon jumped, but the next arrows shot higher. Deflecting them with Doreach, Aedain felt that he was getting tired. His muscles felt stiff, the body was not moving fast anymore. He barely dodged another attack, only one arrow grazed his thigh, cutting the skin.

                Suddenly, the soldiers ceased firing arrows at Aedain and were staring at him as though waiting for something. The demon clenched his teeth and rushed directly at them, driven by his warrior instinct. But he almost tripped when his left leg refused to listen to him.

                “Open the cage,” one of the soldiers commanded, observing Aedain with mild curiosity.

                The demon kept moving forward, but soon enough he didn’t feel his leg anymore. The limb trembled. He glanced down, feeling strange tingling in his body. The numb sensation reached his chest to spread all over his body. Aedain fell on his knees when the both legs gave way. The sword slipped out off the stiff fingers of his right hand. With all his willpower, the Laismaran tried to force his body to move, but neither arms nor legs listened to him. Then the world went dark.

                Leif saw the incredibly skilled swordsman fall when an arrow grazed his leg. He also noticed that every other traveler, who was trying to fight back and got shot in their limbs, lost control over their bodies and eventually the consciousness as well. One by one, they went down.

                The young captain kept a low profile, crouching behind the reckless men who tried defending themselves against the Karhadonian troops. Leif grabbed one of the stray arrows and looked at the arrowhead – as he expected, it was smeared with some liquid, most probably a poison or a sedative. Seeing that there was no one left to fight the soldiers, he did the only reasonable thing he could do in this situation. He dropped his sword and fell face-flat to the ground, pretending he was unconscious like the rest.

                Leif controlled his breathing and laid still when the Karhadonians began collecting the fallen men. With a corner of his eye, he noticed a pair of boots right by his head, and it took all his willpower to relax and fake being knocked out.

                “That accounts for everyone, let’s pack them on the wagons and wrap it up!” Leif heard one of the soldiers saying right before two pairs of strong hands grabbed him and lifted him off the ground. Then, he got unceremoniously tossed atop other people, and he heard the metal cage door close with a creek, secured additionally with a heavy chain.

                “Hurry up, we dawdled long enough with those stubborn fools.” Leif someone else calling. “If we don’t get them to Orvik before the full moon, Duke Royse will decorate the Red Castle with our heads on lovely spikes!”

                Orvik? Leif wondered if the soldiers would make it to the Karhadon’s capital before general’s Soren’s troops.

                The cage rattled when the wagon driver whipped the horses, and the convoy set off toward the Karhadon’s Gate at the end of Mam Naois. Leif lifted an eyelid a bit, checking what was going on around him. When he saw no guards in the vicinity, he opened his eyes and slightly lifted his head, taking in his surroundings. It seemed that most of the soldiers stayed in the mountain pass, probably to hunt for other travelers. However, the absence of the troops made no difference – without any weapon he had no means to escape, not to mention that first he would have to bend the thick metal bars.

                The last wagon in the convoy rocked violently it passed the Karhadon’s gate with a huge emblem of a fish carved in the best marble, announcing that now Leif was officially on enemy’s territory. The young captain carefully peeked above the pile of unconscious men, but couldn’t see anything as the wagon driver was protected by an iron plate from the prisoners. Leif relaxed, realizing that no one was aware that he was conscious.

                His attention wandered to the other men who landed in the cage with him – they looked like a bunch of worst thugs the soil of the Callesmere Empire ever carried. The bulky muscles and scars on their faces betrayed that they saw many battles. Leif had an idea who would be so courageous and suicidal to face the troops against all odds – surely mercenaries. The war meant money for people like them.

                Leif glanced at the most admirable fighter of them all, the same man who was questioning him earlier. Like the rest of men, he was splayed in the cage, unconscious. The young captain’s attention was drawn to one of his hands which looked like it was crushed, the fingers crooked and grotesquely bent in a way they shouldn’t. Then Leif noticed that his plain, woolen tunic was completely soaked in the front. The brown fabric darkened, painted with a shade of deep crimson. Leif furrowed his brows and peeked under it, thinking that the man needed his help. However, what he saw made him freeze in terror – the blood was slowly seeping from the deep wound running from the man’s right shoulder to his left hip.

                However, that was not what had shocked Leif the most. As a soldier, he knew that such an injury was almost certainly fatal, but it showed signs of heeling, as well as numerous stab wounds on his chest. This man should be dead. Yet, his chest was raising rhythmically, proving that against all odds and logic, he was still alive.

                Impossible, Leif thought, staring at the fellow prisoner with disbelief mixed with a disturbing suspicion developing in his guts. True, no human could survive such injuries, but… Leif lifted one of his eyelids and sucked in his breath.

                Golden irises.

                Leif sat back, instinctively motioning himself away from the demon, cursing his damn luck. He lost Maewyn, got captured by enemy’s troops, and now he was locked in the same cage with a genuine demon. He cursed again in his mind and leaned against of the unconscious thugs, keeping a watchful eye on the demon prisoner.

                The wheels of the wagon were squeaking, obviously strained by the weight of metal cage and all the prisoners. Leif was listening to the melody of horses’ hooves beating against the uneven, cracked stone slabs. He almost fell asleep, lulled by the rhythmical rocking of the cage, but a movement caught his attention. Leif stiffened, seeing the demon stir. He glanced at the other men, but their sleep was deep. Perhaps the sedative wasn’t quite as effective on demons?

                The demon’s eyes fluttered open, and he sat up, ignoring Leif and inspecting his surroundings. Fortunately, he was smart enough not to make any noises that could alarm the wagon driver. He closed his eyes and sat still for a moment. Leif stared at him, confused. It looked like the man’s nostrils moved as though he was trying to catch a scent like a hound. The corner of the demon’s mouth lifted a little in a small pleased smile. Then, he opened his eyes and finally turned his attention to Leif, glaring at him.

                Leif clenched his teeth, refusing to feel intimidated, but the primal fear of demons seemed to be in his bones when the demon spoke to him.

                “So the soldiers abducted the humans from Mam Naois,” the demon said quietly, his voice barely audible over the noise of the wagon’s wheels creaking. “Now tell me, did you see a woman with shoulder-length, brown hair being taken? She looks like a peasant and has quite a temper.”

                Leif got alarmed – the description of the woman matched Maewyn’s.

                “Green eyes, short? Likes bossing people around?” Leif asked the demon, praying that he wasn’t looking for the Duke’s daughter.

                “That is her,” the golden-eyed man stated, making Leif’s heart sink.

                The young captain gasped, gazing at the fellow prisoner with horror as the pieces of information led to the most disturbing conclusion.

                “You’re the demon who kidnapped Lady Maewyn,” Leif whispered frantically, his hand wandering to his hip and searching for a sword which wasn’t there.

                “And what are you going to do about this?” the demon asked, a mocking smirk playing on his lips. Leif returned the glare, feeling helpless as a human obviously had no chances to survive a wrestle with a monster. Seeing his uneasiness, the smile on the demon’s lips grew. “Did I upset you? Well, you can take her with you later. Granted she will want to go with you.”

                Leif clenched his teeth.

                “What was that supposed to mean?” he hissed out, but the demon only graced him with another mocking smile, clearly having fun at Leif’s expense. The young captain took a deep breath, reminding himself not to let the emotions cloud his judgment.

                “All the wagons are headed to Orvik. It would be easier to get to her if we stay in the cages,” Leif said.

                The demon nodded.

                “My thoughts exactly,” he agreed.

                Leif sighed.

                “Listen, under normal circumstances, I would never propose that, but let’s join forces to rescue the Lady. With the two of us working together our chances will be twice as good,” he proposed.

                “I have no need for a minion,” the demon stated and pressed his hand against his chest, examining the wounds. Apparently, it wasn’t good, for he scowled. “But on a second thought, I could use a meat shield.”

                Leif sighed.

                “Deal it is,” he muttered bitterly. “I am Leif of Agnar family, the captain in the Farn’s army.”

                The demon arched his eyebrow, amused by the serious introduction.

                “Aedain,” he said.

                The both men were sitting in silence, uneasiness in the air, when a sound of a growling stomach disrupted the moment. Leif stared down at his belly, but it wasn’t him. Then he looked at his temporary ally.

                Aedain cursed in his language and looked around.

                “There’s nothing to eat here,” Leif said grimly, thinking he would use a meal as well. The demon snorted.

                “On the contrary,” he replied and plunged his hand into the chest of one of the unconscious mercenaries. Leif stared in horror at Aedain ripping the still beating heart from the man’s ribcage and sinking his teeth in it while it convulsed for the last time. Unaffected by Leif’s reaction, the demon had his meal and once done, he wiped the blood off his chin. “Why are you staring, human?”

                “You ate his heart!” Leif hissed out through the clenched teeth, pointing his finger at the corpse behind Aedain’s back.

                “He did not even notice.” The demon shrugged his shoulders and comfortably laid back, resting on the corpse. “If you tell the woman about what just happened, I will kill you.”

                Leif kept staring at Aedain, his jaw slack. Was that his greatest worry?! The young captain tried not to comment the demon’s gruesome dietary habits, but the way how relaxed he behaved was mind-boggling. With Maewyn captured, he just had his snack and was now going to take a nap! As it pained to admit this to himself, Leif was certain Aedain cared if she lived or died. If it hadn’t been the case, the demon would have escaped the cage.

                “How can you be so calm?” Leif whispered frantically. “Maewyn must be so scared right now; she must cry from fear and sadness.”

                A quiet chuckle answered Leif’s question.

                “Cry? That woman never cries,” Aedain replied, amused. “Surely right now she is making the Karhadonians regret they live.”

                “I’ll make you regret you live!” May yelled at the Karhadonian soldiers as the wagon was speeding toward Orvik. The other kidnapped travelers were trembling from fear and crouching on the cage’s floor, disoriented. May couldn’t sit still and silent though. She looked at the Gate of Karhadon, which was getting smaller and smaller, reminding her that Aedain was left there, on Mam Naois. Knowing him, the demon wouldn’t even think of saving her.

                “Shut up, bitch!” one of the soldiers escorting the convoy ordered May, only fueling her will to defy the Karhadonians. Perhaps it seems stupid, but May had no delusions what would happen once somebody from Orvik recognizes Maewyn’s face – she was as good as dead anyway, so she could at least release some of the fear and frustration.

                “Have fun trying to make me shut up!” she screamed at the soldier.

                The man scowled.

                “Damn, I can’t stand her anymore,” he muttered and took a small crossbow from his packs, loaded it and aimed at May.

                She took a step back from the bars, but the soldier pulled the trigger. May hissed from the pain and clutched her right shoulder. When she looked at it, she saw a small dart stuck in it. She reached to pull it out, but she didn’t even touch it when she blacked out, limply collapsing on the cage’s floor.

                “Finally some peace,” the Karhadonian soldier commented.

Deadly Reunion

Dungeons beneath the Red Castle, Orvik

                Erik pulled his knees to his chest and rubbed his hands trying to ward the chill of the dungeons off. His stomach growled, demanding nutrition, but he ignored the all too familiar melody. He glanced at witch Lavena who was laying with her back to him, motionless. Her breathing was shallow yet rhythmical; Erik couldn’t tell if she was resting or unconscious. After all the days of captivity and torture took its toll on the elderly lady.

                The heavy iron door leading to the lowest level of dungeons creaked, and Erik motioned himself into the furthest corner of the cell when he heard heavy footsteps and a sound of dragging. His eyes, now accustomed to the dim light of a single lamp, widened as two Karhadonian soldiers led Baltar back to the cell. The massive demon was a shadow of his former self now – tortured by Zhawn for the sheer pleasure of inflicting pain, Baltar was beaten up and half-conscious so even humans could handle him now. He didn’t even make a sound when the soldiers tossed him to the floor, slamming the door shut and leaving.

                Erik slowly crawled out of his safe corner, cautiously moving toward the motionless Baltar who was laying with his face down on the cold, stone tiles.

                “Baltar?” Erik called the demon’s name quietly, afraid to shake him – Baltar’s body was covered in bruises and wounds, it was impossible to tell which bones weren’t broken yet. “Baltar do you hear me?”

                Erik sighed with relief when he heard the demon let out a weak groan. Lavena, as though woken up by the quiet sound, pulled herself up clumsily and looked at Baltar with tired eyes. Erik clenched his fingers on what remained of the demon’s clothing and pulled, trying to move the heavy body. He barely managed to roll the man onto his back and when he did, he flinched, seeing the full extent of the injuries.

                Despite the horrible condition he was in, Baltar smiled. Erik and Lavena exchanged looks and excitement appeared on the boy’s face.

                “Do you have it?” Erik asked with hope.

                Coughing blood, Baltar nodded.

                “Right here, kid,” the demon croaked, pointing at his arm. Erik nodded and took a look at the muscular upper arm; it was covered in blood, but the boy discerned a faint metallic gleam. Baltar moved the arm closer to Erik. “Do it quick.”

                Erik bit his lower lip and dug his fingers into Baltar’s wound. The demon didn’t even scowl when the boy found a certain object buried in his flesh and pulled it out. Erik looked at the smuggled blade with approval, noticing its needle-like shape.

                “It will do,” he said and turned to Lavena. The witch changed the position, granting the boy a better access to the magical handcuffs on her wrists. Not wasting any more time, Erik leaned over the artifact and pushed the narrow knife into the lock, expertly jerking his wrist. He worked on the lock for several minutes till he heard a characteristic click and the handcuffs opened, freeing Lavena’s arms and her magic. The witch smiled, rubbing her sore and bruised wrists.

                “Stand back,” she commanded and put her palms on the bars standing in the way between them and the freedom. Erik dragged Baltar toward the opposite wall and helped him up.

                Lavena closed her eyes and began chanting in Laismaran. The bars began shaking and twisting as though they were snakes before they turned into the dust. The with grinned when she looked at the two prisoners behind her back.

                “I’m worn out now,” she said and gestured to hurry up.

                Erik nodded, also smiling and helped Baltar walk. He barely stepped outside the cell when he heard footsteps heading to the dungeons. The bald demon did as well as he lifted his head and cursed.

                “It’s the end of our trip,” he croaked and then looked at Erik. “Brat, you have to disappear.”

                Erik’s eyes widened. His heartbeat quickened as panic kicked in. Baltar straightened his back and shoved the boy aside, sending him flying deeper into the corridor.

                “Now!” Baltar urged Erik.

                The boy pulled himself up; he stared at the demon and the witch helplessly. He blended with the wall like a chameleon in the last moment before the all too familiar people showed up in the dungeons. Erik froze at the sight of the red-haired twins, the ones who had killed Aedain. Their crimson eyes wandered between Baltar and Lavena, their faces showing neither anger nor surprise.

                “One escaped,” one of the duo stated, not noticing Erik. Zhawn’s minions, unlike the demons could rely only on their sight and hearing. They didn’t spot the boy hiding in the far end of the corridor even though Erik knew Baltar could locate him without any trouble.

                “We will have to punish you,” the other twin whispered, moving closer to Baltar and Lavena.

                The bald demon straightened his back, using the wall for support.

                “Go, get out of here!” he said in a commanding tone. He didn’t look at the boy, but Erik knew Baltar was talking to him.

                “Neither of us will go anywhere,” the red-haired creature said in unison, slowly walking toward the demon and the witch.

                Erik clenched the teeth as he stood up slowly. He felt like crying, but knew it would betray his presence. Moving alongside the wall, he rushed to the exit from the dungeons, cautiously stepping around the red-haired duo while checking whether they noticed him somehow. Fortunately, they didn’t see or hear a thing when Erik slipped by them. His instincts told him to run, but he could give away his position by making noise. He glanced over his shoulder one last time at Baltar and Lavena before leaving them at the Zhawn’s mercy.

Docks in Orvik, Karhadon

                Nesrin slid off her horse and hurried to the docs, ignoring the lustful looks men were giving her. A scowl appeared on her beautiful face – she despised pretending she was a human, but Zhawn insisted on it and only a greatest fool would stand against him. She barely managed to locate her master in the horrible commotion reigning in the city. With the war in progress and Zhawn’s plan at its final stage Orvik was wallowing in chaos.

                The haven was filled with newly built ships; the swift three-mast corvettes floated side by side. Soldiers were swirling all around the place, escorting selected prisoners from the dungeons beneath the Red Castle and making them board the ships. The exhausted and terrified people tried resisting, but they got brutally shoved into their holding cells under the decks where they would spend long months cramped like cattle.

                Nesrin knew that maybe a half of them would survive the journey across the sea and then only a handful would last until the horrifying procedure ends. She smiled bitterly – she was among the “lucky” ones who survived, and yet she thought the death would be far more merciful. She glanced at a huge marble statue of a pregnant woman embracing her stomach, which guarded the entrance to the haven. If Nesrin remembered well it was an effigy of the goddess Illiana, the deity in this part of the world. Nesrin said a short prayer for the goddess in her mind, pleading for her to take the lives of those people before they reach their destination.

                “Nesrin, here you are.” She whirled around hearing Zhawn’s voice and faced her master. “What did that idiot want this time?”

                Nesrin tucked a stray strand of her now blonde hair behind her ear.

                “Royse complains you decided to take a thousand souls instead of three hundred,” she replied. “And he nags you to aid his troops with the fight against Farn.”

                Zhawn let out a brief, amused chuckle showing exactly how much the Duke’s complaints meant to him. He glanced at the prisoners led to the ships; regular soldiers were guarding them and Zhawn’s minions, the red-haired twins, were overseeing the Karhadonians.

                “There are more pressing things I must attend to,” Zhawn pointed his clawed finger at the sea. “Tell Royse to stuff himself with his excrements.”

                Nesrin bit her lower lip and nodded.

                “I will tell him you will see him as soon as possible,” she rephrased Zhawn’s words.

                Zhawn smiled with approval. She was just about to leave when he stopped her.

                “That time in the dungeon you lied to me to save that half-breed boy.” Nesrin stiffened; her eyes widened as she stared at Zhawn. “Maybe you fooled those soulless cretins, but not me, Nesrin. Tell me, why would you do such a pointless thing?”

                Nesrin averted her eyes from Zhawn and set them on her feet as she recalled the incident her master was talking about. She wanted to answer him, wished to tell Zhawn she was making a difference by saving one soul, but how meaningless it was when she helped a thousand of others face that gruesome fate?

                “You are truly a failure, Nesrin,” Zhawn whispered as he turned around to observe the ruthless duo of fire-wielding creatures, the ones who knew no remorse, had no attachments, were perfect tools. Then he looked back at Nesrin. “Get yourself to Royse and bring me the Spear.”

The Red Castle, Orvik, Karhadon

                May groaned and slowly opened her eyes only to see the iron ceiling of the mobile cage she was locked in. Using the bars for support, she pulled herself up, still feeling strangely dizzy, her limbs heavy and aching. Her vision was a bit blurry when she stared at the other prisoners who were either sobbing or gazing blankly at the surroundings, welcoming the imminent death.

                Rubbing her stiff neck, she shifted to see what was going on outside. To May’s surprise, the wagon was traveling through the city. However, it wasn’t nearly as lively as Thoen Stronghold. The window shutters were closed, the people were sneaking while nervously glancing over their shoulders instead of walking confidently. May recalled where she saw such an atmosphere in a town – in movies in almost every Transylvanian town near a vampire’s castle. She gulped, when the path became steep.

                She couldn’t quite see where the wagon was heading, but the creak of massive iron hinges and the sound of lowering a bridge across a moat was a dead giveaway – and she didn’t have to wait for the castle long. May could see the high castle wall in a shade of deep red.

                “The Red Castle,” Herdis whispered, holding her crying daughter in a tight embrace. “The abode of Duke Royse.”

                May found it weird, but in a desperate moment like this she could only admire the architecture – perhaps the drugs were to blame here. Nevertheless, she could only observe helplessly as the wagon passed the castle’s gate and stopped on the spacious courtyard. It was first of many, so the place filled with the wailing prisoners. May wished she didn’t hear the cries for mercy and despaired sobbing. The soldiers were swirling like busy ants, preparing to unpack the human cargo.

                A man clad in expensive-looking robes appeared, overseeing the shipment of the prisoners. He crossed his arms on his chest and scowled. Although his face was distorted by the grimace and the wrinkles were giving away his age, May quickly linked this man to Abbran – Maewyn’s fiancé looked like this guy’s carbon copy minus the wrinkles and the prominent mustache. A stunningly beautiful woman accompanied him, bearing the same sour look on her face.

                “My master assured me he will see you right after the last ship is ready to sail away, Duke Royse,” the woman said with an obviously fake smile. The Duke’s grimace deepened, if it was even possible. He snorted, muttering something under his nose, or rather under his mustache, and walked away from the woman, treating her like air. Glaring daggers at him, the blonde beauty followed him right to the wagon where May was.

                She quickly turned around and began crawling to the furthest corner of the cage. Unfortunately, all of the prisoners had the same idea. May flinched when she heard the heavy door open and the wagon shook as two soldiers hopped inside, advancing at the defenseless people. The panic ensued and the prisoners began thrashing, pulling May in their midst and then out again. She barely noticed the difference when a pair of strong hands grabbed her, dragging her away from the rest and mercilessly tossed out of the wagon.

                Another soldier caught her and pulled her up by her hair. May tried fighting, but another Karhadonian helped his comrade hold her still, making her efforts unsuccessful. She managed to free one of her legs and kick the soldier’s leg, but instantly regretted the move as his shin was shielded by a metal protector.

                “This one is a hell of a bitch,” the soldier introduced May to the blonde woman who approached her. The woman grabbed her chin and forcefully lifted her head.

                “And her soul is strong,” the woman said, her voice sending shivers down May’s spine. “Prepare her for the transport.”

                May felt panic creeping into her still slightly drugged mind. What transport? What did they want to do with her?

                “No!” Both May and the blonde beauty were surprised when the Duke interrupted and stalked toward the girl. He shoved the woman aside and stared at May’s face, a mix of shock and happiness flickering in his eyes. “Maewyn.”

                May felt a spark of hope in her heart – maybe her savior was right before her eyes. Perhaps the nasty rumor about May being involved in Abrran’s death was just a political ruse. The Duke’s son loved Maewyn, so his father wouldn’t let anyone hurt her, right? It didn’t sound too coherent, but it was the only hope she had, so May harbored it like a drowning man would clutch on a straw.

                The cool beauty didn’t seem to be happy about the turn of events. He glared at Duke Royse and May could swear that she felt a cold breeze brushing against her body.

                “The agreement stated that every prisoner belongs to us!” she hissed out, showing absolutely no respect for the Duke. The nobleman sent her an equally hostile look.

                “Maewyn will be coming with me,” Royse said in a tone which allowed no objection. He reached to May with his hand. “Let’s go, dear child.”

                May felt the soldiers release her. Her instinct told her to run, but she had no chance as the soldiers were all around the bridge across the moat had been lifted. She decided it was far better than being transported somewhere. Hesitating, she reached out to take Royse’s hand, but then a sound of a horn cut the silence. The heavy chains rang when the bridge was lowered and a messenger galloped onto it before it was entirely open.

                “Close the gate!” the man yelled as he rode to the Duke. “My Lord, Farn’s troops are here, they’ll be under the city walls any moment now!”

                A spark of surprise flickered in Royse’s eyes, but it died down.

                “I don’t care,” he said, his voice eerie. The soldiers stared at him in shock, speechless and confused, but the Duke didn’t seem to be bothered by them or by the troops on his doorstep. He looked at May and offered her an encouraging smile. “Come, let’s have a chat, Maewyn.”

                May followed him obediently, knowing it could be her only chance to somehow survive this hell or at least prolong her life. Duke Royse casually strolled along the corridors of the castle. They climbed many stairs and reached the room, that was on the highest floor. May considered ditching the Duke and hiding somewhere in the castle, but the two soldiers were flanking her and each of them looked like a merciless killer.

                Royse showed her into a chamber situated in one of the castle’s towers. Hesitating, she stepped inside, cautiously looking around. The room was spacious, but nearly empty. In the middle of it was a wooden pillar with solid iron shackles attached to it and a long table. Something was on it, but she couldn’t tell what, because a cloth covered it.

                “Are you wondering, what is underneath this cloth?” The Duke pointed at the table. He smiled in a way which could be considered nice, but May thought something was seriously wrong here. “Take a look, Maewyn.”

                May didn’t answer him. Slowly, she made her way to the table and the Duke positioned himself at the opposite side of it, clearly anticipating her to discover what lay beneath the material. May reached toward the fabric, but she clenched her fist withdrawing the hand – her danger senses weren’t tingling anymore, they were like sirens now.

                “I shall show you then.” The Duke slowly, with a certain dose of care, removed the fabric and threw it on the floor. May gasped, horrified as she stumbled back. Bones. On the table laid a human skeleton with the remains of dried flesh and hair. It was clad in tattered clothes. The attire was a rag now, but there was no mistake – those were the clothes Abrran, the Lady’s fiancé, wore on day of his death when Aedain kidnapped May.

                “Greet my son,” Royse said.

The Siege

Red Castle, Orvik, Karhadon

                Erik dived into a narrow corridor from the main hallway just in time to avoid a unit of Karhadonian soldiers rushing to reinforce the defense of the castle. The boy slowly exhaled, relieved that he managed to stay undetected so far. However, he was worried that escaping the stronghold wouldn’t be as easy as he had thought. From the glimpses of the people’s talk, he deduced that the castle was surrounded by an enemy, possibly under siege.

                He might still be a child, but even he knew what that meant – no one got in or out of the castle; finding the way leading to the streets would be most challenging.

                “Hurry, prepare the oil!” Erik heard someone yelling, confirming his suspicions about the siege. His best bet would be to wait the commotion out, but sieges could last for months, if not for years. Until then, Zhawn would surely sniff him out, the same way Aedain or Baltar could.

                “We’ll take the corridor left!”

                Erik stiffened when he realized they were talking about the same spot where he was hiding in shadows. As becoming invisible exhausted him and he wasn’t able to uphold it for longer than a brief moment, he couldn’t blend into his surroundings as he did before. His heartbeat quickened, the noise of blood rushing through his veins was louder than the soldiers’ footsteps. The boy whirled around and ran alongside the corridor as fast as his tired legs could carry him.

                He froze when he heard the noises coming from the opposite side of the hall as well. He gulped, realizing he was trapped between the Karhadonians. The voices and the sounds of heavy boots grazing the marble floor were getting nearer. Panicked, Erik looked for any spot he could use as a hideout – a room, a window, anything. However, there was no door near. Only a tiny ray of daylight seeped through and lit a fragment of a wall.

                The boy took a deep breath and ran for it. The voices were getting louder, but he didn’t pay any attention to them, focused on a single thing – the small ray of light. The soldiers nearly spotted him when Erik took an abrupt turn right and collided with steep stone stairs. Gasping for air, he pulled himself up and stared at the source of the light, the narrow window, not wider than a hand. However, the slim window was not the most interesting feature of the place – it was the stairs, a steep stairway leading upwards. Seeing no other options, Erik began climbing up swiftly, eager to avoid the Karhadonians.

                Perhaps driven by fear, maybe pushed by some unknown force, the boy continued running until he reached the end of the stairway – a solid door. Without thinking too much, he swung it open and dashed into the chamber. Panting heavily, he leaned against the door and looked around.

                The chamber was spacious, but there wasn’t much furniture there, only the most necessary elements like a bed, a desk and a wardrobe. Not even a trace of decorations could be found; the walls looked naked without arrases, and the stone floor was cold as no rug was there. Sighing, Erik wandered toward the window and peeked outside, careful not to be seen.

                “No,” he breathed out, seeing a regular battle raging outside. The view was dominated with the orange color of flames swallowing the capital. Screams and clash of swords reached the room at the top of the tower, making Erik nauseous – he knew that melody. He knew it all too well. All thoughts escaped his mind; the recollections of Baltar and Lavena were wiped out, leaving only one dominant thought. The instinct to run.

                Erik rushed toward the door, but stopped when his hand reached the handle. Gold, he needed gold to survive out there. He whirled around and examined the chamber. It looked tidy, but not poor as the bedding was made of the finest silk. Perhaps the precious items were hidden. Erik started rummaging through the belongings of the chamber’s owner, checking every place a thief would examine – under the bed, in the drawers of the desk. He searched the wardrobe thoroughly, but he only found a huge number of gray cloaks there.

                Disappointed, he was about to try his luck elsewhere when one spot more came to his mind. Erik pushed the full-length mirror, attempting to shift it a little. He smirked when he felt resistance – something had to be hidden there. He gritted his teeth, putting more force in the push and the heavy wooden frame gave way, sliding aside like a door. Squinting his eyes, the boy peeked into the dark hole.

                “A hidden passage?” Erik whispered to himself, remembering that some castles had secret corridors leading outside in case of a siege. Was it one of them? With his hopes up, the boy dashed through the hole and climbed down the stairs. His fingers were sliding over the smooth rock. He almost twisted his ankle on one of the poorly carved steps.

                Erik sucked in his breath when he slipped and fell forward, desperately clawing at the walls. He couldn’t see a thing in the darkness, couldn’t find anything to hold on to. He clenched his teeth, expecting a neck-breaking fall all the way down the spiral staircase, but instead he bumped his forehead into something solid, which was just inches from his face. Moaning, he inspected the cool surface with his hands – the end of the road, the staircase was blocked by a wall. However, Erik felt a metal object blended with the stone surface, probably a lever or a handle of some sort. He was about to try to open the door, but stopped the last second. He glued his ear to the wall and listened.

                Silence. There was no one on the other side.

                Encouraged, Erik pulled the lever and heard the squeak of metal hinges. When the stone block was loose, the boy pushed it aside like sliding door and stepped into the light, shielding his eyes from the blinding light.

                “Out of the way, Zhawn sent me here.” Erik stiffened hearing a muffled female voice right outside the chamber.

                His eyes accustomed to the light immediately. He was about to spin around and jump back to the secret passageway, but something caught his attention. The chamber looked like an armory – halberds, spears and swords decorated the walls. There was no furniture save one table where a long, thin object laid. Erik felt himself drawn to it, despite the danger. As he came closer he saw that the six feet long item was a sturdy wooden casing. The voice of reason in the boy’s head screamed to run, but his fingers reached toward the casing as if acting on their own accord.

                “Master Zhawn ordered not to let anybody in.” Erik heard a male voice as he slowly opened the long chest.

                “It doesn’t apply to me! Stand aside!” The woman outside the chamber raised her voice; she sounded angered.

                Erik lifted heavy velvet covering the item inside the casing.

                “No one save Zhawn can touch the Spear!” the male shouted just when Erik closed his fingers around the wooden pole, dark as the starless night.

Orvik in Flames

Vicinity of Orvik

                Leif shifted, trying to make himself more comfortable with the cage filled with unconscious men and one demon. He scowled, as his nose was constantly being attacked by the nauseating stench of blood and human bodies in the early stage of discomposure. Most of the motionless passengers were still drugged, but a good portion of the cell-mates would never wake up thanks to Aedain, who must have been really hungry.

                Leif observed his temporary demonic ally rip yet another heart from the chest of an unconscious man. He sighed and averted his gaze, admiring the views. The sight of Karhadon’s plateau was dull – the rocks and dwarfish trees were covering the barren land. The characteristic scent of salty sea was distinguishable in the air, hinting that the wagon was nearing to the seashore.

                “The direction is not right,” suddenly, Aedain spoke after the wagon driver took an abrupt turn left. He tossed the remains of half-eaten heart away and stood up. “The trail leads elsewhere.”

                Leif furrowed his brows, restless. He managed to find out that Aedain could trace both Maewyn and his companion using his sense of smell.

                “We should be leaving,” the young captain stated.

                Aedain nodded and grabbed one of the thick iron bars with his hand. Leif gasped, seeing that the demon bent it without much difficulty. The metal snapped when Aedain jerked his wrist, breaking the bar. He proceeded to continue with the next one when the wagon stopped abruptly – the driver had to get alarmed by the loud noise. However, the demon calmly continued working on the bars.

                “What the hell is going on here?!” the driver yelled, grabbing a sword and marching to see what was the source of the sound. Aedain growled when he recognized the blade, the man was holding. It was Sholais, one of the weapons, that were the heirloom of clan Ruanaidh. The demon glared at the wagon driver menacingly, but the human proved to be extremely stupid – he gripped the long sword and clumsily charged at Aedain, wanting to stick the tip of the blade into the demon’s chest.

                Aedain effortlessly grabbed the blunt edge of his sword and pulled it, making the driver slam into the bars. The demon let go off Sholais and snatched the man’s throat. He was about to close his fingers in a crushing grip when Leif stopped him.

                “Wait!” the young captain exclaimed, stepping over the motionless prisoners to stand beside Aedain. Fortunately, the demon didn’t kill the driver yet. The man was desperately struggling to break free, but he stood no chance against Aedain’s monster strength. Leif addressed the driver. “Where are you taking the people?”

                The driver didn’t respond, so Aedain squeezed his neck slightly, threatening to crush the man's windpipe.

                “To Orvik!” the driver exclaimed.

                “Why?” Leif kept questioning him. The man glanced at the Farnian, then at the demon and a steam of yellow liquid made its way down his leg.

                “I don’t know! I just had the orders to drive from Mam Noais to Orvik; I know nothing else…” the man was bubbling. He began crying like a scared child. “Please don’t kill m…”

                His pleas were silenced by a swift twist of a wrist, when Aedain broke his neck. He flexed his fingers, and the limp corpse fell to the ground into the urine. Leif sighed.

                “You know, you didn’t have to kill him. He posed no threat,” he said as Aedain broke the last bar, allowing both men to get out of the cage.

                “He touched my sword, that is what I cannot forgive,” Aedain responded as he snatched Sholais and went to look for his other blade. Leif stretched his cramped limbs, following the demon. He rummaged across the wagon driver’s things and stuffed a piece of hard cheese into his mouth, but found no weapons.

                “Curses, not even a knife!” Leif slammed his fist against the metal cage from frustration. He looked at Aedain, who was calmly fastening the sheaths of his both swords on his back. The demon caught Leif’s staring.

                “I am not giving you any of my blades,” Aedain said.

                Leif sighed, not really expecting more cooperation from his ally. He gazed east toward Karhadon’s capital Orvik. Perhaps it was his imagination when he heard distant echo and saw a glimpse of red ahead – the signs of an upcoming war which would swallow Karhadon.

Red Castle, Orvik

                May lifted her head, when she heard the creek behind her back when the door opened. Her arms were numb, and her wrists hurt immensely from hanging on the chains for long hours, accompanied by silence and Abrran’s corpse. Right after revealing that he was keeping here the decomposing corpse, Duke Royse had her cuffed to the massive wooden pole in the middle of the spacious chamber.

May had tried to fight with all her strength, when the soldiers had seized her, kicking and hissing at them, but it hadn’t been enough. They had put the shackles on her wrists, so that she had her arms above her head. At first, she had tried to free herself, but she was no Houdini. She was ready and desperate enough to try it, she couldn’t bring her hands together so that she could make her thumb joints pop out.

“I hope you enjoy the company of your fiancé and my beloved son.” She heard Duke Royse’s sickening voice. “I am sure, that he would be glad if his and your bones would rest in the same grave, joined forever.”

                May clenched her teeth, glaring at the him when he approached the table and traced his fingers alongside the skeleton.

                “Abrran would be so happy,” the Duke whispered, gently touching the place where the cheek of his dead son would be if flesh covered the skull. He smiled as though he was imagining Abrran’s face.

                May frowned with disgust.

                “He wouldn’t,” she responded firmly. “Abrran was a good man, unlike you, you twisted lunatic!”

                The Duke laughed at her outburst.

                “To hear such words coming from your lips, sweet Maewyn…” he mocked her. “From you, who betrayed my son for the sake of a worthless monster!” he spat at her.

                May didn’t answer when the Duke continued having fun at her expense.

                “And where is he now, where is your demon lover?” he asked. “Why hasn’t he come to save you yet?”

                May averted her gaze away from the Duke, feeling despair seize her heart. There was no hope left, no place for miraculous coincident or unexpected saviors. No one could help her – Erik, Lavena and Baltar were imprisoned by Zhawn. Duke Thoen and his army couldn’t seize the castle in time and Aedain… May knew all too well that Aedain cared only about his Spear. Her life meant nothing to him.

                “Now I can bury my son,” Duke Royse said, sealing May’s fate.

                With these words he opened his palm, letting the candle fall on the floor and just walked away. May watched with horror as the flames slowly engulfed the carpets, heading toward the walls decorated with arrases. She desperately struggled to free herself, but she only hurt her wrists, drawing blood.

                Soon, the flames were everywhere around her. The room was empty, so they couldn’t reach her yet. She would die either of suffocation or under debris, when the roof would fall. How cruel the Duke was – not only wanted to kill her, but also wished her to die in a long and painful way. May felt the hot gusts on her face, the scuffles were heating up hurting her arms. She coughed, finding it more difficult to breathe as the oxygen from the air got burned away. Her lungs felt like aching from breathing in the hot air.

                May whimpered, knowing, that the agony was near. She didn’t want to die. Not yet. Fear of death invaded her mind, mixing with the overwhelming sensation of guilt as she stared helplessly into the flames that danced around her. May knew she would die, and with her dead, no one would save her sister. She wasn’t sure if the burning sensation in her chest was from inhaling the hot air and smoke or from the regret that tortured her. The realization that she failed Hailey was unbearable, just as the heat around her.

                May barely could hear Royse’s cackle over the crackle of fire.

                “Hailey, I’m sorry,” May whispered as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Orvik

                Aedain and Leif took the horses and galloped to the city, mercilessly forcing the animals to go beyond their limit. Soon it became clear why the wagon driver strayed from the path to Orvik. The red glow wasn’t a phantom; the city was on fire. Aedain scowled, as he lost the faint trace of May’s and Baltar’s scent, when they got overpowered by the heavy stench of blood and fire. The perspective of looking for Zhawn and May in the midst of the mayhem was not appealing for him, but it was unavoidable.

                “Farn’s army,” Leif whispered, squinting his eyes to discern the commotion under the city walls. “They don’t know Maewyn is there.”

                Aedain didn’t respond, his thoughts swirling around the Dragonslayer’s Spear, which was in Zhawn’s possession. His injuries healed a bit during the trip in the cage, but his wounds were still severe and open, making shifting his shape to the dragon form a suicide. Could he stand a chance against Zhawn and his minions? Aedain knew that the answer was negative, but he had to try nonetheless.

                As the horses galloped down the plateau, the horror playing in the city of Orvik showed itself in its full gruesome glory. The civilians who survived the attack of the Farnian troops and escaped the raging flames, were fleeing to the mountains and toward the north of Karhadon. No one bothered to take any luggage as their most precious commodity was their lives.

                The sounds of fierce battle within the city walls were audible from a great distance from Orvik. As though the chaos in the capital wasn’t enough, yet another force appeared on the southern horizon. Leif cursed, seeing the silhouettes of the riders, but his fear turned into surprise when he discerned the familiar emblem of a rose on their banners and the person who was riding before the rest of the soldiers.

                “Duke Thoen,” Leif coughed out.

                Given his sensitive hearing, Aedain picked up the name and huffed with irritation.

                “Great, no one is missing,” he hissed and mercilessly kicked the horse’s sides, making it run as fast as though its life depended on it. Leif whipped his steed with the reins so as not to stay behind. The animals were tripping and their legs finally gave up when the unlikely allies were almost at the city gates. Aedain’s steed neighed and collapsed, foam dripping from its mouth, its nostrils flaring desperately catching air. Leif’s horse made only a few steps more until the poor creature’s heart didn’t withstand the enormous strain.

                “Keep up,” Aedain muttered to Leif as he dashed toward the burning city. Leif sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him, but the demonic speed was superior. Nonetheless, the Farnian captain caught up to Aedain at the city gate when the crowd of escapees blocked the only way out of the deadly trap Orvik now was.

                “Out of the way! He’s a demon!” Leif yelled before Aedain managed to slaughter someone. As the young captain expected, the people flocking near the gate panicked and scattered, getting away from Aedain and unblocking the way. When Leif caught up to the demon, he grabbed his sleeve to get his attention.

                “Listen, we need to find General Soren; he could know where the abducted people are!” Leif out shouted the crackling of fire consuming the buildings and screams of civilians. “Otherwise we won’t find Mewyn in this chaos!”

                Aedain jerked his arm, freeing himself from Leif’s grip. The young soldier froze when the demon looked at him coldly, no emotion in his golden eyes.

                “What makes you think I want to save that woman?” he asked, his voice terrifyingly calm.

                Leif felt his jaw go slack.

                “What?” he managed to cough out. “I thought…”

                “You thought wrong,” the demon replied.

                Leif was speechless. His eyes helplessly followed Aedain, who began walking away. The demon passed a bloodied trio – two men carrying their comrade with mutilated legs. The injured soldier screamed for a short while, before he passed away from the pain while his friends tried to take him in a safe place. Under the thick layer of blood, Leif discerned a shape of a rose, the emblem every Farnian soldier wore; these men had to be general Soren’s soldiers.

                “Hey,” Leif called to them. One of the soldiers reached to the handle of his sword, but he lifted his arms to show he didn’t carry weapons. “I’m Leif from Agnar family.”

                The soldiers exchanged glances.

                “The deserter,” one of them commented, gazing at Leif with disdain. “You probably want to know what is happening in the city?”

                Leif nodded.

                “General Soren controls most of the city, save the Red Castle and the docks, he sieges the castle right now. They say,” the man paused. “They say Duke Royse holds Lady Maewyn in the castle and wants to burn her alive.”

                “Burn alive?” Leif breathed out and looked at the red shape towering over Orvik. The stronghold called Red Castle had never been seized. It was impossible to penetrate its thick and high walls, especially without even a battering ram. However, Maewyn was there and she needed his help! Without thinking much, Leif dashed toward the Red Castle, passing Aedain, who stood frozen.

                Aedain looked after Leif as he ran to help May without a thought. He furrowed his brows and was about to follow the human, when a cacophony of screams erupted from the direction of the docks. In the very same moment, he felt a peculiar sensation meaning a Laismaran was shifting shape nearby. The demon’s golden eyes widened when he saw a familiar silhouette hovering over the haven.

                A dragon caused people of Orvik to flee in panic as he batted his wide-spread leathery wings his gray scales seemed to absorb all light. The beast roared and unleashed its fire breath upon the Farn soldiers who tried to seize control over the docks. A rain of arrows flew toward the dragon, but the human weapons were as harmless as a mosquito’s sting for the dragon’s scales were harder than any armor. Aedain knew who the dragon was, after all there was only one other beside him and Baltar – that was Zhawn.

                The dragon dived toward the highest tower. Aedain squinted his eyes and discerned a white silhouette standing there, holding a dark casing. The person threw the object high into the air and Zhawn gracefully caught it with his claws. After encircling the stronghold, the dragon took off for haven.

                Aedain drew Dorreach, realizing that the Dragonslayer’s Spear was in Zhawn’s possession. If he wanted it, now was his chance. While the humans were constantly distracting his enemy, he could defeat Zhawn and seize the Spear, fulfilling his destiny. Aedain took a step toward the docks, but felt as though a powerful force was keeping him from chasing after his foe. He glanced over his shoulder at the Red Castle, seeing one of the towers catch fire.

                Karhadon’s Duke wants to burn May alive.

                Aedain shook his head, chasing away the persistent thought. No, he could not let himself be distracted by the woman, not when his greatest desire was within his reach. It did not matter to him if she was dead or alive. In fact, it would have been better if she was dead – he would not have to remember her damn face right now, when he had to fight Zhawn. It was reasonable to let her turn into ashes; it was right.

                Having thought that, Aedain turned around and began running heading toward the flaming Red Castle.

Lady in Chains

                Leif dodged, as one of the stray Karhadonian soldiers swung his sword at him in a clumsy attempt to cut him down. The movement was frantic and inaccurate, thus easy to avoid. Leif whirled around, using the momentum to deliver a solid kick in the man’s chest. The plate armor clattered, when the heavy boot collided with it and the Karhadonian flew back, dropping the sword.

                The Farnian captain dived to the ground to avoid another attack, and he grabbed the sword, before springing back to his feet. Now armed, he slashed the attackers, getting rid of the obstacle. He ran along the Orvik’s main road toward the Red castle, barely slowing down to take care of whoever tried to interrupt him.

                The flames were everywhere, consuming the once magnificent buildings and hopping onto the neighboring ones, thus devouring Orvik. The stench of smoke and burned fat irritated Leif’s nose. The noise of battle was deafening. With every yard closer to the Duke Royse’s castle, it became clearer that the most vicious fight was already over. The corpses of Karhadonian soldiers laid in the gutter, along with the bodies of civilians who tried to defend their home city – mostly men, but also women and children.

                The Red Castle, illuminated by the orange glow of the fire looked eerie, like a stronghold of the greatest and most malicious of all demons. It stood tall and firm, the fortress no one had managed to conquer. When Leif was almost at the castle’s gates, he saw his kinsmen unsuccessfully trying to penetrate the defenses. With the deep moat surrounding the castle, the way to the gate was cut off, but general Soren of the Farn’s troops found a way to pass the water-filled ditch. He ordered his men to build a dike out of everything that was in sight – slaughtered horses, remains of carriages, even dead people.

                The pile was rising, granting access across the moat. However, without any machines, the siege of the castle could last years. Leif saw that the soldiers already had built the battering ram, but he doubted it would be enough to destroy the gate. The defenders were waiting with the cauldrons full of the boiling oil and the long bows ready to shoot. He looked upwards and spotted a man clad in royal attire – Duke Royse.

                The man was standing on the castle walls; his howling laughter reached Leif’s ears, even from such a great distance. Royse waved as though he was greeting an old friend.

                “THOEN!” he roared.

                Leif looked over his shoulder, when he heard heavy hoof beats. He barely jumped out of the way, before the column of riders galloped toward the Red Castle, trampling over anyone who wasn’t as quick as Leif. The young man glued his back to the wall of one of the nearby buildings, waiting for the soldiers to pass by.

                When he lifted his head, he caught a movement with a corner of his eye.

                “Him?” Leif muttered seeing no one other but Aedain, heading to the castle. As the street was blocked, he took a path above the ground level, jumping from roof to roof. Flames were almost touching his feet, but he kept running, definitely gaining over Leif. Somehow seeing the demon’s back motivated the young captain to act. Leif made a leap for the nearest rider and jumped onto the horse, right behind the soldier. The horse’s rightful owner shifted in the saddle and was about to strike him, but before the soldier had time to fight him, Leif knocked the helmet out of his face.

                “Hakon, it’s me, Leif!” he shouted, recognizing one of his numerous cousins.

                “Leif!” the man breathed out, startled. At first, a sparkle of happiness appeared in his eyes, but soon vanished. “You’re a deserter; you'll be hanged.”

                “I’ll care about that later!” Leif out shouted the deafening sound of hooves beat. “Hakon, I have to get to the Duke. It's important!”

                “You will burn with this city!” Duke Royse was shouting from the walls of the Red Castle. “Everything will perish today!”

                Duke Thoen stopped his horse right before the bows’ shooting range and lifted his arm, signaling his troops to halt. He glanced at the madman Royse, before turning his attention to general Soren, who was commanding the siege.

                “Soren, what in the name of Illiana is happening here?” the Duke asked, seeing that maybe one-third of the soldiers was actually present under the stronghold’s gate.

                General Soren instinctively averted his gaze, betraying the shame he felt. He shook his head helplessly.

                “Sire, it was going well at first, but then we lost most of the unit by the docks. Our men were terrified, they said monsters were there,” the general was relating, but the worst of the news he saved for last. “And Duke Royse says he captured Lady Maewyn.”

                Duke Thoen’s green eyes widened, as a shocked gasp escaped the man’s lungs. He felt as though someone hit him in the gut.

                “Maewyn?” he whispered, looking up at the Red Castle. “Break inside that castle!”

                General Soren stared at his feet again.

                “Sire, they have archers and boiling oil, maybe even more traps. We’ll lose all men!” Soren protested. “I’m sorry to tell you this, my lord, but we can’t save your daughter.”

                Duke Thoen said nothing, but the general could see the twitching of the corner of his mouth, as Farn’s ruler clenched his fist.

                “She’s my only child, my only joy,” the Duke whispered, his eyes fixed on the tower and smoke coming out of the arched window. Then his eyes went cold, steel determination on his face. “Break the gates down! Hurry!”

                Soren nodded and immediately began giving orders, sending the soldiers to assault the walls of the Red Castle. The men shared the desire to save the Farn’s heiress and bravely rushed forward, not heeding the Karhadonian defense. The sounds of arrows flying by, battle cries of soldiers and pounding with a makeshift battering ram against the sturdy gates were deafening, so deafening that the Duke almost didn’t hear the shouts of one of his men – Hakon of the Agnar family.

                “My lord!” Hakon cried, leading a familiar person to the Duke. “My lord, my cousin Leif has an important message for you!”

                The Duke scanned Leif up and down, frowning with disgust at the sight of the most promising officer of his army, who became a loathsome deserter.

                “Leif, the punishment for deserting your unit is death,” he said in a grim voice, but the words didn’t have much effect on Leif.

                “I know, sire.” The young captain dismissively waved his hand, as though he didn’t care much about his life. “But, there’s no time for this now, we have to save Lady Maewyn! My lord, we have to…”

                Leif got silenced in mid-sentence when a ruckus on the back, drew Thoen’s attention away from the captain. The soldiers charged onto some unknown opponent, but one by one were pushed away, disarmed and, occasionally, dismembered as well. Leif gulped, suspecting who was the newcomer.

                “Make way! Let him through!” He yelled so loud that his throat went hoarse. “For the love of Illiana, stand down!”

                “Don’t listen to him! Defend the Duke!” General Soren gave orders.

                Leif clenched his fists and turned to Thoen.

                “Sire, you must let this man through,” he whispered to his lord frantically. “He’s our ally. He'll help save Maewyn!”

                The Duke furrowed his brows and focused his attention on the said ally, who didn’t hesitate to cut his way through the Farn’s soldiers. As he came closer, Thoen could see him clearly. The swirling long, black hair and the unusual blades looked very familiar. One blade dark as night, the other bright like the moons. Darkness and Light, Dorreach and Sholais. Just as those words came to his mind, the Duke remembered where he had seen them. When he was a boy his father took him to Thorongard and showed him a painting called “The Battle of Kaellach de Ruanaidh." The man before him looked just like the demon king from the painting.

                “Halt!” Thoen yelled suddenly. “Stand down!”

                The soldiers stared at the Duke, as though they thought he had gone crazy, but they listened and made way for the demon. The gaze of the golden eyes slid over the warriors and the Duke, stopped for a while on Leif. Finally, it rested on the closed gate.

                “Why the gate is still closed?” He demanded without a hint of courtesy.

                “You must be King Kaellach’s son,” Thoen greeted the demon. “of the line of the kings of the North Domain.”

                The demon scowled instead of answering.

                “What business does a dragon like you have here?” A harsh note appeared in the Duke’s voice.

                Leif blinked.

                “Dragon?” he whispered to himself and approached his temporary ally. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a dragon?”

                Leif breathed out with relief, ignoring the threatening look the demon gave him.

                “That makes everything way easier. You can fly above the castle wall, can’t you?” the young Farnian asked with a hopeful gleam in his eyes, but the demon didn’t share his enthusiasm – his face went grim. He kept staring at the gate and the soldiers, who unsuccessfully tried to break it down. The downpour of arrows wasn’t making the situation look better.

                “Distract them,” the demon said and sheathed his swords. Quickly, he unstrapped the both sheaths and tossed his precious weapons to a very surprised Leif. “Watch them.”

                Aedain closed his eyes, doing his best to ignore the sickening stench of fresh corpses and scorching city. He focused and began shedding his human-like skin. Almost immediately, the shot of pain confirmed that it was not the best idea in his condition, but he didn’t have much choice if he wanted to save the woman. Aedain clenched his teeth, determined to endure the torment.

                As his body expanded, the barely closed wounds reopened and started bleeding once more. Aedain pressed his hand to his chest and dug his fingers into the flesh in a desperate attempt to hold the skin together. The pain was immense when all the bones in his body broke and reformed. He fell onto his knees, overwhelmed by the suffering. The transformation should be over already, but he wasn’t even half-way done. He coughed blood and pushed his body to the limits, focusing on the faint scent of May, mixed with the  burning tower.

                “Get up!” Aedain heard Leif’s voice and realized that he lost consciousness for a moment. His vision was blurry, when he looked down to see if he had managed to change the skin. A large paw covered in red scales were clawing at the dirt. Another paw was grotesquely twisted and unmoving. Aedain pulled himself up and stretched his leathery wings. He felt warm blood streaming down his chest, as he straightened his back and batted the winds, struggling to take off.

                “Protect the dragon!” Duke Thoen yelled, and the Farn’s soldiers created a circle of shields around Aedain, while he was attempting to leave the ground.

                However, instead of batting his wings faster, Aedain was slowing down as he was exhausted already. The soldiers nervously looked at the tower, where May was supposed to be. Clouds of thick, black smoke were getting bigger. Everyone must have been aware that if she was still alive, she would not last much longer.

                “So you’re going to let her die,” Leif said, not looking at Aedain. With a corner of his eye, he noticed the dragon freeze at his words.

                Then, Aedain roared furiously. The sound was so deafening, that both Farnian and Karhadonian soldiers covered their ears, terrified. Suddenly, the dragon jumped forward, spreading his wings widely and batting with them so energetically, that the surge of wind knocked the Duke’s men off their feet.

                Leif managed to grab the tip of the tail in the last moment, before the crimson dragon took off, approaching Maewyn. Once airborne together with Aedain, Leif looked down while clutching the scaled tail. The defenders of the Red Castle began firing arrows at the dragon, but Aedain maneuvered easily, avoiding the enemies’ weapons with a surprising grace for such an enormous creature.

                Duke Royse observed the dragon with madness in his eyes. His men were fleeing the castle walls, terrified by the beast, but Royse stood there with a wide smile on his face. His maniacal laughter could be heard over the sound of the fierce battle.

                “All of you will burn with my son! All of you will burn!”

                Just when Royse cried out, a surge of dragon fire erupted from above, racing toward him. The smile of the Karhadon’s ruler faltered split second, before the fire engulfed him and turned him into ash.

                “Hurry!” Leif yelled, as his fingers were slipping from the smooth scales.

                Aedain’s body felt like falling apart, but he kept pushing it to its limit, forcing the wings to carry him over the castle walls as fast as possible. Zhawn had the Dragonslayer’s Spear; he was so close and yet only one thought remained in Aedain’s head – to save her. Why? Why would he care about one human being so much, especially about such an annoying woman? Perhaps his honor demanded him to fulfill his part of the agreement – to send her back down the hole she crawled out from. Yes, that was it, nothing more. Just a matter of honor.

                Aedain shook his head and batted his wings even harder. A matter of honor? Somehow he didn’t manage to convince himself. The Dragon tried to make out May’s scent, but the stench of burnt wood and smoke made it impossible. What if she was already dead?

                A furious roar filled the air, when Aedain folded his wings, gluing them to his body. He headed straight for the tower, but made no attempt to slow down or change back to his human-like form. Instead, he flew right into it, slamming his massive body against the wall, with a window far too tiny for his form. The rocks gave way as though they were just children’s toys, when Aedain made himself a new doorway.

                The flames erupted, but the heat of the flames was just a nice tickling for a dragon. Then, he saw her.

                Chained to the pole in the center of the chamber, May was limply hanging on the chains. Her tangled locks were hanging in front of her face. Miraculously, fire didn’t make its way to her, but Aedain knew that smoke was just as deadly as the fire. Seeing her like this – motionless, seemingly lifeless, evoked a strange feeling within the dragon. A bizarre pain shot through his chest, much different from the one from his wounds.

                The chamber’s floor shook, and the tower’s walls began crumbling. Chippings of the stone ceiling fell like hail, littering the smooth, marble floor. During all the commotion, the woman didn’t move, still hanging limply like a rag doll. Was she really dead?

                Aedain held his breath, as he lowered his head. He could hear nothing over the sound of the crackling flames and the falling bricks, no heartbeat. Aedain realized he failed. Perhaps had he made it here sooner…  If only he hadn’t let her go without him through the checkpoint… However, none of that mattered now, when he was looking at May’s lifeless body as fire was raging around them.

                Aedain leaned forward, wanting to bid farewell to her.

                “Aedain.” He stiffened, hearing a faint yet familiar voice. Surprised, he stumbled backwards to take a better look at the chained woman. Weakly, she lifted her head and her piercing green eyes looked back at him.

                May furrowed her brows, struggling to keep her head up. She had trouble focusing; her senses were blunted due to the oxygen shortage. Each breath was painful; every time she inhaled, her lungs burned. Her vision was somewhat fuzzy. The shapes seemed to blend with each other among the bright raging flames. A blurry image of a crimson beast loomed before her eyes. Slowly, she began discerning the details – the scales, the beast’s head and the golden eyes that gazed at her with a strange combination of shock and relief.

                “Aedain,” she whispered, recognizing the dragon. However, it was strange. Why was he here? That didn’t make any sense – Aedain wouldn’t bother to save her. All he cared about was the Dragonslayer’s Spear, he was far too self-centered to think about others, especially a loathsome human like May. Yet, he came. She thought that he might be a figment of imagination, an illusion created by her brain when she inhaled far too much of the suffocating smoke. But when she regained her senses, he didn’t vanish. May smiled with relief, feeling a surge of gratitude for Aedain. “You came to save me.”

                She was still a little dizzy and so startled to see the most unexpected rescuer, that she didn’t notice that the cracks in the tower’s walls were getting bigger, until the loud rumble from above announced the ceiling coming down.

                “The tower is going to collapse!” May heard a familiar voice yell desperately. Her eyes widened when she saw who the voice’s owner was – it was no one other than…

                “Leif?” May tilted her head, a puzzled look on her face as her green eyes were wandering between him and Aedain. What the heck were those two doing here together? However, this was not the best time to solve this mystery, for the tower collapsed on their heads.

                Aedain quickly spread his leathery wings over May, right before the roof came down, and a hail of bricks fell on the people below. The dragon hissed from effort – the webbing on his wings started tearing apart from all the weight, but he kept shielding May. She yelped weakly and wriggled in her chains, looking around terrified. Just when she thought, she was safe, the situation worsened!

                When a large portion of the roof slammed against one of the bones of Aedain’s right wing, they cracked and the heavy stone landed accurately beside May. She pulled on the chains forcefully, but the metal links didn’t budge. She looked at Aedain helplessly.

                “Aedain, I can’t free myself. Do something!” she out-shouted the deafening sound of the tower falling apart.

                Aedain growled, looking around until he found Leif. The human soldier was clinging onto the edge of what was left of the marble floor, separated from the dragon and May by a wall of fire.  Perhaps he could be of use right now.

                The dragon’s tail swished like a whip and reached through the flames. It wrapped around one of Leif’s leg’s and before he could say anything, it pulled him swiftly toward the pole where May was, so quickly that the fire didn’t harm him. Once Leif was retrieved, Aedain let go of him and simply dumped him onto the stone floor without any delicacy.

                “Damn…” Leif moaned as he pulled himself up, rubbing his aching back. He didn’t get much break as Aedain’s tail slammed into him, pushing him toward May. Leif stumbled forward and almost rammed into her.

                May briefly glanced at her friend and then at the ceiling of the shaking tower – the catastrophe seemed to be inevitable.

                “I don’t want to die,” she stated the obvious.

                “Be silent,” Aedain interrupted and turned to Leif. “Use my swords, minion.”

                Leif scowled, but drew Sholais, one of the ancient Laismaran blades. He huffed when the weight of the sword almost made him drop it, but he lifted it with great effort.

                “I’m not your minion,” he hissed and swung the heavy blade at the pole right above May’s hands. She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. She clenched her fists, afraid that Leif would cut her fingers off along with the chains. Sholais sailed through the air gracefully, slicing through the thick chains and wooden pole as they were butter.

                Finally free, May fell to her knees, too weak to stand on her own. She rested her back against the pole, exhausted. Her arms fell limply, weighed down by the cuffs that were still closed on her wrists. The flesh there was marred, bleeding. Her breathing deepened – it seemed that life was filling her anew.

                “Meawyn, we have to go!” Leif exclaimed, yanking her up just as the rest of the roof collapsed. Aedain lounged forward, protecting both May and the Farnian soldier from the debris, but it was painfully obvious that he wouldn’t be able to do it for long – despite his desperate efforts, the umbrella made of the leathery dragon wings was lowering, the bones were giving in, cracking one by one.

                “Take her away from here,” Aedain hissed.

                Leif nodded and reached for May’s hands. He wanted to pick her up, but she pushed him away; her gaze was set on Aedain. Every muscle beneath the scaled skin was convulsing as he struggled to uphold the ceiling.

                “What about you?” she asked the dragon, taking a step forward. Previously, she viewed Aedain as an enemy, then as not entirely trustworthy ally. However, her opinion on him changed dramatically moments ago, when he came to save her. It was a selfless, admirable deed, and May appreciated it. Perhaps earlier she wouldn’t be that bothered by Aedain dying, but now she was. She simply wanted him to survive. “Aedain?”

                The dragon growled, glancing briefly at Leif before turning back to May.

                “Go, stupid woman!” His raspy voice was louder than the noise of the tower walls cracking. “Minion, get her out of here!”

                Without hesitation, Leif flung May over his shoulder, and she was too weak to prevent it.

                “Wait!” she protested, but the soldier already took off, racing for the stairway before the tower collapsed entirely. May dug her fingernails into Leif’s clothing and lifted her head to look at Aedain, who stayed behind, supporting the roof and buying her time to escape. Would she see him again?

                She cleared her throat and shouted as loud as she could: “Aedain, thank you!”

Red Castle

                “Hold on!” Leif yelled to May, when the tower shook. She could have sworn that the building swayed. Terrified, she stared at the staircase literally disappearing behind the two of them – the stone bricks were raining down, just inches from her and Leif.

                May nearly bit her tongue off, when her friend leapt without any warning, making her brain bounce off inside her skull like jelly. When he landed, then she saw that a part of stairs was missing. They were nearly at the bottom of the tower, when the building shook violently and a deafening rumble echoed throughout the damaged walls of the narrow spiral staircase. Leif barely stayed on his legs, balancing with May swayed over his shoulder.

                Then, May saw something Leif couldn’t. Her eyes widened in terror when a thick cloud of white dust approached, crawling downstairs.

                “Run!” she shrieked, panicked. “Leif, run!”

                The cloud of dust was approaching rapidly, easily catching up with Leif, who raced like possessed. The noise of crumbling building, intensified and the rumble was so loud that May’s ears were ringing. She drew a desperate breath, a split second before the cloud engulfed both her and her friend.

                Then, she felt a forceful pull and for a moment she was floating in the air, just before she crashed into some hard surface. She rolled like a rag doll for several feet, before she slammed into what she believed to be a wall. However, she didn’t have any time to contemplate how many bruises she had gained – acting on instinct, May covered her mouth and nose with her sleeve, preventing the dust from getting into her lungs. She couldn’t see a thing in the cloud of white dust, so she just crawled on her fours along the wall.

                Her hand slipped off the rough surface of the stone wall and found what seemed to be wood.

                Door.

                Gathering all the strength she had left in her, May pulled herself on her knees and reached for the handle. Once she opened the door, she crawled inside the room. With her last effort, she slammed the door shut with her leg and laid flat on the floor, gasping for air. The chamber was free from dust and seemed to be safe, at least for now.

                “Leif,” May whispered, remembering the friend who was still out there, in the cloud of the dust. Did he make it? She groaned, thinking she should go back there, to look for Leif. She bent in half during a brief cough attack and stood up slowly, using the wall for support. Her knees were buckling and she felt hopelessly weak. May was about to go out to search for Leif, when the door’s handle budged. Then, an unnerving thought popped into her head – what if it wasn’t Leif? The Red Castle was swarming with hostile Karhadonians who were ready to kill her.

                May grabbed the first thing she could find – a brass candlestick and wielded it like a mace. Suddenly feeling a lot less lively, she positioned herself beside the door frame, so that the newcomer wouldn’t see her as soon as he entered the room. May’s heat rode up her throat when the hinges creaked and a dust-covered person entered the room. Not knowing if it was a friend or foe, she executed a preemptive strike, swinging the heavy candlestick at the man.

                The unidentifiable man spun around quickly and drew a sword in a fluent, surely often practiced move. May gasped, startled and stumbled forward when her candlestick got cleanly sliced in half. Having lost her balance, she stumbled forward while trying to whack the opponent with what was left of her makeshift weapon. However, the dust-covered man was far more skilled than her – his sword was already falling toward her head. May didn’t even have time to cry out in fear, before the blade struck.

                She shivered and stared at the long sword sunk in a chest of drawers right next to her.

                “I could have killed you,” the dust-covered person said, accenting the last word with a cough. May stared at him.

                “Leif!” she exclaimed, feeling that relief took over her heart. “I didn’t recognize you because of all that dust!”

                Leif cracked a smile and unsuccessfully tried to wipe the dirt off his face.

                “You don’t look better yourself, Maewyn,” he said. Then, a blush made his way to his cheeks, visible even beneath the thick layer of stone dust. “I meant my Lady, I didn’t want to be rude.”

                May waved her hand dismissively.

                “Don’t you lady me,” she muttered and made her way toward the door, but Leif blocked her path.

                “It’s too dangerous out there, you’ll suffocate,” he warned her, his voice serious. “The tower has collapsed entirely, debris and dust are everywhere. We’ll have to wait until the dust falls.”

                May bit her lower lip and leant against the leftovers of the chest of drawers, her eyes set on the oak door.

                “What about…” May begun.

                “Aedain?” Leif interrupted, guessing who was on her mind. He averted his gaze from her and glanced at the demon’s swords he was holding. “That was a brave thing he did, thanks to him we could escape.”

                “Don’t talk of him like he’s dead.” May shook her head, a faint smile appearing on her lips as she stared at Sholais and Dorreach, Aedain’s blades. “You don’t know him. That guy’s like a cockroach – he won’t die so easily, not that stubborn bastard.”

                Leif smiled as well, but didn’t answer May. Instead, he rummaged through the chamber in search for anything that could be of use – he found some water, a loaf of bread covered in mold and a jug full of water, although drinking from it would be risky. May in the meantime collapsed, sliding against the wall, until she landed on her backside. Sighing heavily, she covered her face with her hands.

                “I can’t leave him to die.” May looked at the door.

                “There’s nothing you can do for him now. Whether he’s dead or alive, if he’s buried beneath the debris, you won’t be able to move the rocks,” Leif said. He sounded reasonable and May knew he was right. However, she couldn’t accept that Aedain risked his life to help her escape death, whereas she did nothing in return. At the moment, she felt so weak, so helpless and useless. Maybe if she had been stronger, Hailey wouldn’t have been kidnapped, Aedain wouldn’t have sacrificed himself.

                “Damn,” she groaned with frustration, making Leif stop scavenging the drawers. “Why the heck did he even come?”

                Leif closed the drawer.

                “The same as me, he wanted to save you.” As Leif said it, he clenched his jaws, but May didn’t notice it. She snorted as though he had just told her a good joke.

                “Save me?” May repeated. “Aedain’s not the heroic type, he didn’t even want to save his friend, so why would he suddenly want to save me?”

                Leif opened his mouth, but May didn’t let him voice his opinion on the matter.

                “Aedain does something, only when he sees a profit in it – he came all the way here not for me, not for Baltar, but for the Spear,” she muttered and stood up. Ignoring Leif’s persistent stare, she dipped a cloth in the jar filled with water and began wiping the dust off her face.

                “Maewyn, what Spear are you talking about?” Leif asked quietly.

                “The Dragonslayer’s Spear. Aedain would do anything to get that wretched thing,” she answered casually, not stopping her efforts to look little more presentable. Behind her back Leif was getting paler and sheer terror flickered in his eyes.

                “The Dragonslayer’s Spear?” he whispered to himself.

                Finished with the washing, May set the cloth aside and gawked at Leif.

                “You know about it?” she asked, surprised.

                “Of course I do!” Leif exclaimed, losing self-control. He began pacing around the chamber. “Every child knows the story about the Dragonslayer and his Spear. It is the most powerful of weapons, infused with the worst kind of sorcery. It was said to be so evil and mighty that it had to be sealed, never to be found. How the hell did it reappear?”

                May stared at her friend, shocked to see him in such an agitated state. Leif had always appeared to be a nice, cheerful boy, and now a completely different person seemed to stand before her.

                “Well,” May cleared her throat, about to confess. “I kind of… found it.”

                “You found it?” Leif repeated. “And what happened to it?”

                “It seems Zhawn has it now,” she replied.

                Leif looked as though he had been struck by a lightning. He was opening and closing his mouth, but he didn’t utter a word for a long time.

                “Zhawn?” he coughed out finally. “You don’t mean Zhawn the Bane of the northern lands, do you? He died eight decades ago.”

                May averted her eyes from Leif, thinking she had underestimated the threat – her friend was absolutely horrified by the news.

                “I’m afraid it’s him,” she muttered and flinched when Leif slammed his fist against the wall.

                “Sweet Illiana,” he said. “The dragon prince, the Dragonslayer’s Spear, now Zhawn. I swear, Maewyn, you’re a magnet for trouble.”

                Rime covered the marble floor in the great hallway in the Red Castle, when a gush of cold air rushed past heavy, velour curtains. The snowflakes danced and formed a female silhouette. The change wasn’t completed yet, when Nesrin rushed to the dungeons on her mission to eliminate the potential threat – the witch and the dragon.

                “Zhawn and his plans,” she muttered, frustrated as she glided past shocked guards, freezing them in process before she assumed her usual form. Nesrin didn’t even bother to change her hair from white to blonde, there was no time for such useless tricks. It seemed that Zhawn wasn’t as cunning as he thought himself to be and everything was going south now. With the whole Farn’s army in the capital and the dragon prince, Orvik was plunged into chaos. She couldn’t let the situation get out of hand even more.

                “Freeze right there!” she called to the guards at the entrance to the dungeons, smiling at her own lame joke.

                “Lady Nesrin?” one of the men asked, but Nesrin only flicked her pale hand and observed the two men collapse with agony painted on their faces, as the blood in their veins froze.

                May was pressing the wet cloth to her nose and mouth, as she and Leif were running through the hallways. The stone dust lingered in the air and it seemed as though Red Castle was filled with thick fog. Debris from the collapsed tower was laying everywhere and once May treaded over something that felt an awful lot like a human corpse splayed across the corridor.

                The spot where the collapsed tower used to stand, was engulfed by such a dense cloud, that it was impossible to even get closer to it. Leif was right – no matter how much she wished to do something to help Aedain, she couldn’t. At the moment, the dragon prince had to fend for himself. Even though Leif didn’t share her faith, May was sure that the demon was still alive. Right now, she had to focus on finding Hailey.

                She stumbled on something and lost her balance, but Leif quickly yanked her up and pulled forward, never letting go off her hand. May felt the need to get rid of the cloth and take a deep breath, but she knew it would be stupid. Instead, she just ran until the air became clear.

                Finally, Leif stopped and took a shallow breath, checking if it was safe. Then, he nodded to May and she lowered the cloth, gasping for air.

                “Where is everyone?” May asked between heavy breaths.

                “Probably on the walls, defending the castle from our army,” Leif replied, drawing one of Aedain’s swords, Sholais. “A lot of them must have suffocated.”

                “Wait,” May interrupted him as they were marching along another of the hallways that looked the same. “Farn’s army is here?”

                “Yes, your father, the Duke, broke into the city and is besieging the Red Castle,” Leif kept May posted. “We need to escape as soon as possible.”

                May furrowed her brows and picked up the pace. It was miraculous how after all those perilous moments, she was still able to jog alongside Leif – apparently a solid adrenaline boost was not to be underestimated.

                “Wait, how exactly do you plan on getting out of there?” She grabbed Leif’s sleeve. May secured the grip and yanked forcefully, making her friend stop and look her in the eye. “The walls will be guarded, there’s no way we could just slip out of the castle unseen.”

                Leif bit his lower lip, his confidence plummeting.

                “But, I need to get you to safety. And the Duke has to be informed about Zhawn and the Dragonslayer’s Spear.”

                A smug smirk twisted the corners of May’s lips and a mischievous gleam lightened her green eyes. She straightened her back, feeling like a mastermind.

                “I might have an idea,” she said with a self-satisfied look on her face. “I think that my friends should be somewhere in the castle. With them, escaping would be a piece of cake.”

                Leif leaned on Sholais, looking at May skeptical.

                “Your friends?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “Maewyn, we’re up against at least three hundreds of Karhadonian soldiers. With or without your friends, we don’t stand a chance.”

                May’s smile didn’t disappear, it grew even more.

                “What if I told you that we’ll have a witch and a dragon on our side?”

                Leif stared at her in disbelief. Then, he shook his head, smiling.

                “You’re full of surprises today, my Lady. Where are your friends?” he asked, but May shrugged her shoulders.

                “I have no idea. They were taken captive by Zhawn, so they should be here somewhere,” she replied.

                “Dungeons,” Leif said, straightening his back and grabbing Sholais’ handle tighter as optimism filled him. “If they’re held captive in Red Castle, they’ll be in the dungeons. Let’s go!”

                May nodded and jogged after the Farnian soldier, who set off like a sprinter. The need to find her younger sister was driving her on, enabling her to push her body beyond its limits. She clenched her teeth and forced her legs to move faster. The dust wasn’t an obstacle anymore, but without it, they began encountering Karhadonians. Most of them were civilians – cooks and maids, more concerned about their own safety. After seeing Leif charge with a five feet long sword in his hands, they were running for their lives. However, there were soldiers left in the stronghold as well.

                “The dungeons should be around the corner,” Leif said, whirling around to face a small unit of Karhadonians, which emerged out of one of narrow, adjoining corridors. He glanced at May over his shoulder. “Go ahead, I’ll stop them.”

                “What?” May snapped, about to protest, but then she realized that she would only distract Leif. Unarmed and with absolutely no combat skills, she was useless when facing a group of trained soldiers.

                “Don’t you dare die here,” she said and ran dead ahead, leaving Leif. She resisted the urge to look behind when she heard the clash of metal. He’ll be fine, she was convincing herself.

                May slithered when she took a turn right round the corner, but somehow she managed to keep standing. Barely slowing down, she lounged forward. She smiled seeing a stairway leading below the surface, but her smile died down when she noticed the two corpses laying right before it.

                “Great,” she muttered. The men wore Karhadonian uniforms and bore similar looks of terrifying agony on their faces. What had happened to them? May went closer to inspect the bodies. Perhaps in the past she would freak out, feeling nauseous, but a Callesmeran month in this world strengthened her stomach – the sight of dead people was awfully common around Aedain.

                May furrowed her brows, confused. The guards didn’t have any visible wounds – no cuts, no mashed injuries from a mace, no signs of strangulation. It seemed everything was all right with them. Well, everything except that they were dead.

                “Magic,” May came to the conclusion. She learned that in the world of the Callesmere Empire if you can’t explain something, probably it was connected to magic. She smiled as she knew one person who used magic and who could had been here – the witch Lavena. Did she free herself? May decided to check it anyway and grabbed one of the dead soldier’s sword, but she dropped it right away, almost on her foot. “Crap, it’s heavy!”

                Sighing, she entered the darkness of the dungeon staircase. She had to free a smoking torch from its holder and, lightning her way, May climbed down. She was taking each step carefully – it was the worst moment possible to break her leg. Holding her breath and listening to her surroundings, she couldn’t hear anything but the crackling of the torches and her own footsteps.

                Once at the bottom of the stairs, May sighed lightly with relief – she didn’t encounter any guards so far. She began creeping, but then she berated herself for such a foolish behavior. What was the point of being quiet, if she was holding a torch in her hand?

                “Screw it,” May muttered and marched into the dungeons’ main hallway. She expected to encounter someone here, but the place seemed to abandoned. The siege explained why there were no guards here, but what happened to the prisoners? May expected to find down here some thieves, murderers – people whose place was in jail. However, the cells behind the iron bars were empty.

                May lowered her torch, as she strolled down the corridor lit by the pale flame of the few oil lamps. She shivered when a cold draft brushed her skin.

                “If it isn’t Lady Maewyn from Farn.” May froze hearing a female voice. She spun around and gasped when she saw a sculpture made of ice came to life. The frozen water ceased being transparent and assumed the looks of skin and clothing. The person seemed to glow in the dim light of the oil lamps as her clothing, skin and hair were blindingly white. Even the woman’s eyes were pale, blue like a glacier. When she smiled, May felt a shiver go down her spine, but it wasn’t from cold – it was from fear. The white lady took a step forward. “Your grave will be far from home, girl.”

The Frostbite

                May took a step backwards as the white-haired woman glided towards her, rustling her ethereal robe. Her wary gaze was set on the stranger before her.

                “Did you come to free your friends?” The woman’s smile didn’t reach her cold, blue eyes. “What a coincidence, I was about to do the same.”

                The devious smirk on her pale lips didn’t leave to May’s imagination what kind of freedom she meant. The girl clenched her teeth and kept backing away from the white-haired woman, whose smile grew.

                “I’m not a monster, though. My orders were to execute the dragon and the witch. Zhawn said nothing about stray girls, so I just might let you live,” the ice woman said. “Last chance, girl. Walk away, let me carry out my orders,  and I won’t kill you.”

                May glared at her, but said nothing. Knowing she had to protect Hailey and the others, she didn’t move an inch. When it became clear that she wasn’t going anywhere, the stranger sighed, as though she felt genuine regret because May’s decision.

                “Very well. If you want me to kill you, it’s fine by me.” The ice witch casually strolled in May’s direction. She brushed her long fingers against the damp wall of the dungeon, leaving it pained with rime. “I suppose it would be very rude to kill you without proper introductions. I am Nesrin of Asgaror.”

                “Asgaror?” May whispered, recognizing the old name for Asgard from the Norse mythology.

                Nesrin rolled her eyes, theatrically displaying her impatience. She flipped her white locks and brought her palm to her lips. Then, she blew delicately as though sending May an affectionate kiss.

                May had absolutely no idea how she was supposed to defend against this woman with power over ice, but was enough cool-headed to jump sideways just in time to dodge the gush of cold air. The “kiss” sent by Nesrin hit the iron bars near the place where May was standing a moment ago and a thin layer of ice covered the metal.

                Damn, that bitch wants to freeze me, May thought frantically. Finally, she understood how those guards had died – their internal organs got frozen. Not letting Nesrin out of sight, she stumbled backwards, retreating deeper in the dungeon corridor.

                “So, you’re going to be difficult,” Nesrin muttered, her careless smile vanishing from her face. The corners of her lips twisted in a sour grimace when she balled her fists, but not entirely – just as though she was holding something invisible. The air around her palms swirled and an item began forming. At first it appeared to May that that were only snowflakes gathering near Nesrin, but the delicate snow fluff quickly solidified and hardened, creating a very threatening-looking ice-spike. The white-haired woman smirked triumphantly like the victory was already in her hands. She lifted her three foot long spear of frozen water, aiming it at May.

                Without any warning, Nesrin sent the spike flying toward her. May wanted to dodge it just like she avoided the icy kiss, but she stumbled. In a desperate attempt to fend the attack off, she swung the torch she had in her hand at the frozen weapon like a baseball player. As soon as the fire touched the spike made of ice, Nesrin’s blade broke and melted.

                “Tch!” The white-haired woman made a sour face, frustrated that her second attack missed. However, she was far from finished – spreading her arms wide, she was already creating more ice blades.

                Clutching her torch in front of her like a sword, May glared at Nesrin. She had no intention to stand there like a cretin and wait for the ice bitch to kill her. She reached to her belt and grabbed the dagger, she had taken from the dead guards. Maybe she had no experience in fighting, but it was the right time to get some.

                “Take this!” May yelled and confidently threw the dagger at Nesrin the way she had seen in numerous movies. Maybe it was a beginner’s luck, for the knife reached its target, striking blade first right in the middle of the woman’s chest. May smiled, believing she got her. However, her smile faltered, when Nesrin’s chest simply opened, letting the dagger pass through and fall onto the stone flooring several feet behind the target. The small hole between the white-haired woman’s breasts seemed to be filled with swirling snowflakes, that solidified into ice and then assumed the look of human skin.

                “Nice try, dear, but you can’t destroy ice with metal,” Nesrin said mockingly and twisted her wrists. Twin ice spikes appeared in her palms and a split second later they were rushing toward May.

                May lifted the torch to do the same maneuver as before, but her adversary had predicted it. She cried in pain when one of the ice blades sliced the back of her hand, making her let go off the torch and the other one sent her only weapon far into the dungeons’ corridor, beyond May’s reach.

                “Damn,” May breathed out, realizing that she couldn’t reach the torch before Nesrin got her. The ice woman’s laughter echoed throughout the underground hall as she was nearing May, convinced of her victory.

                Then, she dashed away from Nesrin, racing toward the torch in the far end of the corridor.

                “I won’t let you!” Nesrin hissed and followed the girl, abandoning her human-like form and moving fast like a blizzard. She let out a pleased cry when it was obvious that May wouldn’t be able to outrun her and make it to the torch in time.

                May was already feeling the cold on her back, when she whirled around, facing the human-shape cloud of snow and ice. Nesrin’s blue eyes widened as the girl tore an oil lamp off its hook and swung it, aiming at the white-haired woman.

                “Have some!” May yelled, smashing the lamp against her adversary.

                The burning oil poured out of the vessel and covered the surprised victim. Nesrin shrieked like a wounded animal when the flames engulfed the right side of body and stumbled backwards. She was flailing her arms wildly in a futile attempt to put out the fire, but the puddle of water under her feet was getting bigger. Finally, she threw herself on the floor and rolled frantically.

                May didn’t waste the precious time; she tore her gaze off the burning enemy and ran for the torch. Once her fingers closed around the wooden pole, she raced back to Nesrin, determined to get rid of the threat once and for all. When May got to the white-haired woman, the flames were already gone and Nesrin was once again on her feet. However, the confident attitude and the mocking smirk vanished, replaced by a look of utter hatred on her face.

                “Damn you,” Nesrin hissed out, clenching her teeth.

                May waved with her torch and now it was her turn to smirk.

                “So, what happened to the attitude from earlier?” she mocked Nesrin and took a step forward. Now that the roles had reversed, the white-haired woman danced toward the exit from the dungeons.

                “It isn’t the end!” Nesrin cried before she scattered into a million of snowflakes. The small blizzard swirled in place and flew to the staircase, escaping and leaving a trail of water on the flooring.

                May lowered the torch and turned with her back to the exit. She wiped the cold sweat from her forehead, not believing that she was actually ready to through with killing the ice bitch. This world changed her more than she could ever imagine, but was it a change for good? May shook her head and was about to take a step forward when she heard noise coming from the direction of the staircase.

                Footsteps?

                “Great,” May muttered – the noise was getting louder and it was definitely a sound of someone running down the stairs. As the footsteps closed in, she lifted her torch and squinted her eyes, attempting to see the intruder in the dim light of oil lamps.

                A man emerged from the shadows, but at first he was nothing but a dark silhouette.

                “Maewyn!” May recognized Leif’s voice and lowered the torch.

                “Geez, you scared me!” she complained, but greeted her friend with a smile. Leif’s blonde locks were damp, glued to his forehead; sweat was dripping from his temples. Aedain’s sword Sholais was bared and May noticed a stream of blood traveling down the fuller.

                “Are you all right?” Leif asked, concern in eyes. “On my way here I felt something strange, like a draft, but it was much colder…”

                “Like ice.” May finished for him. Suddenly, she remembered why she was in the dungeons – Hailey. Her sister had to be somewhere around here, in one of the cells. She had to find her! Nervously biting the inside of her cheek, May looked at Leif. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s find my friends.”

                Leif nodded, and the two of them jogged along the underground passageway. They were running past numerous empty cells; May tried to ignore the overwhelming stench of dried blood and urine. Almost all doors were open – all save one. Frantically, she was checking each cell, but not one prisoner was inside. It seemed as though the dungeons were deserted. Where was Hailey? The hope to find her diminished dramatically.

                May’s hands became sweaty as a mortifying thought crept into her mind – the dreadful suspicion that it may be already too late for her sister. Nonetheless, as long as there were cells ahead, the possibility that Hailey lived remained.

                She’s not dead, May thought, trying to convince herself and not to lose it.

                “Well, well, if it isn’t our mischievous May.” May stopped abruptly; she grabbed the bars and squinted her eyes, trying to discern the occupants of the cell.

                “Baltar!” she exclaimed, seeing the massive demon sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. He greeted her with a nod, but made no move to stand up, much like the witch Lavena, who was sitting in the opposite corner of the room.

                May smiled faintly, somewhat relieved to see the helpful sorceress alive. She was even glad that Baltar wasn’t dead. However, the thoughts of her missing sister refused to leave her mind. Only Hailey mattered in this moment. Without a word of explanation, May let go off the bars and ran ahead, heading toward the end of the corridor.

                “Hey, where are you going?!” She heard Baltar yell after her, but she didn’t pay much attention to the demon. Instead, she kept methodically checking the remaining cells. May covered her mouth with her hand when she found a tiny corpse in one of them – miserable headless remains of a baby. Fighting the overwhelming nausea, she went on searching for her sister until she reached the wall at the end of the corridor.

                This was it.

                May had checked all the cells in the Red Castle’s dungeons. Apart from Baltar and Lavena, there were no prisoners there. The only evidence that the people used to be trapped down there, were the puddles of blood and the overpowering stench of human sweat. Zhawn’s prisoners were in the dungeons at some point, and it was not so long ago.

                Clenching her fists, as steel determination was blazing in her eyes, May whirled around and sprinted back to the cell where her acquaintances were.

                “Maewyn, what-” Leif looked confused by her erratic behavior.

                However, May, didn’t pay any attention to him. Instead, she turned to Baltar and Lavena, who sat on the stone floor of their small cell. Both bore tired and somewhat sour expressions on their faces.

                “Where are the prisoners from the other cells?” She demanded.

                Baltar and Lavena exchanged hesitant looks, as though neither of them wished to talk about what had happened in the dungeons. Finally, the witch cleared her throat.

                “Zhawn and his minions took all healthy humans to the docks. I believe, Zhawn wishes to transport them somewhere.” Lavena’s voice was hoarse.

                “Transport where?” May asked, nervously clutching the iron bars.

                “No idea.” Baltar shrugged his shoulders. “Zhawn wasn’t so nice to share his plans with us. Now, how about you help us out?”

                “In a moment,” May said hastily, shifting her attention to Lavena, who seemed to be more willing to give useful information. “Did you see a fourteen-year-old girl among the prisoners? Her name’s Hailey. She has long blonde hair and blue eyes; she's very pretty.”

                “Hailey?” Baltar repeated the name, staring at the low ceiling. He scratched his goatee. “Never heard that name.”

                A disappointed sigh escaped May’s throat. She squeezed the iron bars tighter, until her knuckles turned white.

                “But there was a girl like you described here, in our cell,” Baltar said quickly. “She was sniveling all the time.”

                “And wore an unsightly attire.” Lavena nodded. “Like pants worn by men, but hers were so short, that even her thighs were completely exposed. In fact, her whole attire was peculiar; I never saw such odd shoes in my life.”

                A spark of hope flickered in May’s heart anew. It had to be Hailey – who else would parade in shorts in the Callesmere Empire. The despair quickly turned to excitement; the feeling of failure vanished instantly, replaced by a surge of energy. Now that she knew, Hailey was in Orvik, most probably alive, May was ready for action! The next stop would be the docks.

                “We’re still in the cell!” Baltar complained, making May stop thinking about her sister for a moment. She focused back on the demon and the witch. It didn’t escape her attention that one person of the group was missing.

                “Where’s Erik?” she asked, worried for the boy. But, both Lavena and Baltar smiled widely as though they won a prize in a lottery.

                “The kid escaped not long ago,” Baltar explained, pulling himself up and helping the elderly witch get onto her feet. “He should be out of this wretched castle by now.”

                “Not necessarily. We’re in the middle of the siege right now.” Leif joined the conversation, making May flinch – she was so enticed in looking for Hailey, that she forgot, her friend was standing there the whole time. As soon as he spoke, he gained Baltar’s undivided attention. The muscular demon scanned the young Farnian up and down, not even bothering to hide the hostility. However, the look of antipathy turned into hatred burning in Baltar’s golden eyes when he noticed Sholais and Dorreach – the ancient weapons passed from father to son in the Ruanaidh clan.

                “Aedain’s swords,” the demon hissed out. Without any warning, he reached out through the bars and grabbed the front of Leif’s clothing. He pulled forcefully, slamming the human soldier hard against the iron barrier. Without any effort, Baltar lifted Leif off the ground so that the two of them were at the eye-level. “Where did you get them?”

                “Baltar!” May and Lavena exclaimed in unison. May clutched the demon’s forearm, trying to yank it down, and the witch tugged the shreds of his clothing, but the women’s efforts didn’t even make the massive man budge. A vein on his temple was pulsing ferociously as he was glaring at the young soldier.

                Leif was surprisingly composed for someone who just got smashed against the bars. Blood from the cut forehead made its way to his eye, but he didn’t even blink nor made any move to enrage Baltar further. Slowly, he lifted his arms in a surrendering gesture.

                “There is no need to kill me, Baltar,” Leif said calmly. The demon growled, but the Farnian captain didn’t panic. “Aedain lent me these swords and I want to return them to him as soon as possible. How about we leave this dungeon and find him?”

                Baltar growled and lifted Leif even higher.

                “Don’t you lie to me. Aedain’s dead,” he hissed out furiously, accenting the last word by shaking the soldier so hard that his forehead banged against the iron bars.

                “Baltar, hold on!” May exclaimed, still trying to free Leif from the demon’s unyielding grip. “Aedain is alive! When I found him, he was in a bad shape, but alive!”

                Baltar stilled. Slowly, he looked down to gaze at May. He flexed his fingers, releasing Leif.

                “You’re not lying?” the demon asked quietly.

                “Aedain is alive, Baltar,” May said sincerely.

                Baltar was staring at her for a longer while as though he wanted to read her mind. May could have sworn that she saw tears gathering in his golden eyes right before the huge demon turned his back to her.

                “He’s alive. That stubborn boy is alive,” Baltar whispered with unexpected gentleness in his voice. May smiled, realizing just how much Aedain’s companion cared for him.

                “The last time we saw Aedain, the tower was collapsing on top of him.” Suddenly, Leif cooled Baltar’s enthusiasm.

                “Aedain wouldn’t die from something like that,” May stated confidently.

                “Besides, it’s not the first tower that came down on him,” Baltar joined, discreetly wiping the tears out of the corners of his eyes.

                Then, a conspicuous coughing reverberated from the dark corner of the cell. May, Baltar and Leif focused their stares at its source – a very angry witch. Lavena rested her thin arms on her hips and narrowed her eyes at them.

                “Can you quit bickering and free me from this cell already?” she snapped. Locking her gaze on Leif, she pointed her bony finger at him; her wrists were in cuffs once again. “You, young man, give Baltar one of this swords so that he could get rid of these!”

                Leif nodded and passed Baltar the sheathed Dorreach. The demon snatched the sword. It took the demon one swift swing with the dark blade to make Lavena’s shackles fall off her wrists. Once free to use her sorcery, the elderly witch pointed toward the iron bars and called:

                “Iscalainne!”

                May and Leif jumped back, away from the bars as they melted like candles thrown into a bonfire. Lavena smirked, stepping over what was left of her prison. Her gray eyes met May’s; she could tell that the witch wasn’t too happy about seeing her in this world.

                “The Spear is here, isn’t it?” Lavena asked May quietly. When she nodded, the sorceress covered her mouth with her hand, distress flickering on her wrinkled face.

                “Zhawn has it now,” May explained, making both Lavena and Baltar pale. She opened her mouth to summarize the latest events, but the noise of heavy footsteps interrupted her. Muffled voices and a characteristic clank of swords released from their sheaths made it cleared who graced the dungeons with their presence – the soldiers.

                “We sat here for too long,” Baltar said and made a flay with Dorreach, nearly decapitating Lavena in the process. Before the witch uttered a word of complaint, the demon dashed past the rest of the group, toward the newcomers.

                “Come on,” Leif said to May before he drew Sholais and followed Baltar.

                “Thianna,” Lavena whispered. An eerie, bluish light flickered on the tips of her fingers when the witch ran after the both men, surprisingly fast for an elderly lady.

                Not wanting to be left alone in the dark dungeons, May followed her companions. Not too fast, though – she wasn’t that eager to try her strength against the armed men. The fierce yells and the clank of metal soon turned to the unpleasant melody of twisting limbs, breaking bones and wails of dying men. Jogging at her own, slow pace, she caught up with the rest just in time to see Leif stab a sole survivor of a Karhadonian unit in his chest and Baltar decapitate the unlucky soldier right after that.

                May made her way toward the staircase, maneuvering between the corpses on the floor wet from all the blood. She saw Baltar’s gaze traveling between the sword in his hand to the weapon, Leif was wielding. The demon’s facial expression was grave and was getting even darker with each passing second.

                “We must hurry,” he said. “Aedain would never give anyone his swords. Not unless he knows he won’t live to use them.”

Aedain’s Last Stand

                The sound was deafening, as though a thunder rolled over Orvik when one of the highest towers of the Red Castle collapsed. The flames erupted high in the sky, a moment before the solid construction crumbled and fell under its own weight. A hail of stone bricks fell on the unfortunate Karhadonians, who were near the tower. The ground shook; everyone’s eyes were on the magnificent building that was turning into a pile of debris and ash before their very eyes.

                The thick cloud of white dust obscured the soldiers’ vision, and the rumble was so loud, that nothing could be heard over it. Then, everyone’s eyes widened when an enormous silhouette rose from the monument of destruction. Spreading his wings, the crimson dragon sailed high above the city walls, heading toward the haven. However, soon enough he lowered his flight, much too fast. One of his wings brushed the tower of the city hall, making Aedain lose balance. With a loud rumble, he crashed into one of the buildings, smashing the construction in the smithereens.

                Groaning from pain and frustration, Aedain scrambled out of the rubble. People around him were screaming and crying, but he barely heard their voices over the noise of the blood being pumped through his bloodstream. He realized that too much of it was leaking out. When Aedain pulled his enormous body out of the remnants of the buildings he had accidentally destroyed, he attempted to spread his wings and take flight once again. The unpleasant sounds of bones rattling against each other and unbearable pain shooting through his limbs, confirmed his grim suspicions – he would not be leaving ground anytime soon.

                Aedain let out an angered growl. With his wings broken, he was useless. A grounded dragon was nothing more than a slow, huge target. If he stayed like this, Zhawn would finish him off in a heartbeat.

                Damn, Aedain thought as he saw a familiar silhouette looming in the distance – a huge beast was rising into the sky from the place where the docks were.

                Zhawn.

                Aedain hastily began the transformation, not heeding the excruciating pain. Perhaps due to experiencing it so often lately, he became immune to it, or maybe the instinct to survive was stronger. His vision blurred when he fell to his knees, feeling that his shoulder blades might be crushed.

                Zhawn was getting closer.

                Clutching what was left of once glorious sculpture, Aedain pulled himself up and reached for one of his swords. However, his hand met nothing. His blood pressure rose, when he desperately searched for the handles of Dorreach and Sholais, but the blades weren’t there. Then, Aedain remembered.

                “No,” he whispered, recalling that he had given the swords to the human minion. At the time, Aedain had thought that he would stay in his dragon form. He hadn’t predicted, his broken wings would force him to assume the human skin. He paled, feeling resignation – as a dragon, he had at least talons and fangs. Now he had no weapon against Zhawn.

                Zhawn’s laughter from above confirmed Aedain’s fears. A battered-looking, gray dragon circled over the rummage, the Spear casing in his talons. Zhawn barely touched the ground, when he changed his form into a human-like, without even a single grimace of pain. Leaning on the Spear, he stared at Aedain with an amused smile on his disfigured face.

                Aedain straightened his back and didn’t break the eye-contact, fiercely glaring at the adversary. He tried to appear stronger than he was, but it would be naïve of him to think that Zhawn could be fooled. The older demon scanned Aedain, focusing his attention on the blood pouring from the chest, the paralyzed hand and the knees, buckling under the weight of his body. The lack of weapons surely didn’t escape his attention as well.

                “So you somehow survived,” Zhawn muttered. “Now that’s a surprise.”

                “Who is the one talking. Are you not supposed to be dead since eight decades ago?” Aedain cracked a smile without amusement.

                Zhawn replied him with a mischievous smirk.

                “Perhaps I am,” he said as he traced his fingers across the Spear’s casing.

                “How come you are here again, then?” Aedain asked, tilting his head and faking carelessness in his voice.

                Zhawn did not answer for a while. Instead, he play with the casing’s lock. The prince’s eyes were observing his every move attentively, and the disfigured man knew it. Purposefully, he pretended to open the lock, only to put the casing away after a brief while, clearly enjoying the reaction it sparked in Aedain.

                “There are forces on this world far more powerful than you or me, sorcery so great that bringing one old man back to life is like a child’s play,” Zhawn said, sadness flickering in his golden eyes, as though he was recalling events from the time long lost. Now, the cocky smile and air of mockery were gone. Aedain's adversary looked just like he used to in the price’s earliest memories. Back then, Zhawn used to be like an uncle, his father’s best friend and the most trusted advisor. In this brief moment, Aedain saw that person once again instead of the twisted monster he became.

                “Zhawn, why did you betray my father?” Aedain asked, partially to buy himself more time, but also out of the curiosity.

                When the question rolled out of his tongue, Zhawn shivered, as though he had been hit with a whip. The sad look vanished from his face, and his burnt face twisted with pure hatred – the raging fire lit his eyes. He clenched his fist so hard that his knuckles went white. The Spear’s casing cracked as Zhawn squeezed it forcefully.

                “Betrayed Kaellach?” he asked quietly, his voice shaking from barely controlled emotion. He gritted his teeth. “I never betrayed your father. It was Kaellach who betrayed me,”

                “Now that is a poor lie.” Aedain snorted. “My father was not capable of betraying anyone. He was far too weak-minded and foolish for that.”

                He glanced toward the Red Castle – the cloud of stone dust was slowly falling to the ground, exposing the remaining towers and the high walls of the Stronghold. What was the damn woman doing? Did she not free Baltar yet? Aedain shifted his attention back to Zhawn, knowing he had to buy himself as much time as possible.

                “You don’t know a thing, do you, Aedain?” Zhawn muttered. “Your father never told his only son why I rebelled?”

                Aedain shrugged his shoulders, in his mind hurrying Baltar.

                “I do not care about what happened eight decades ago,” he said.

                “Perhaps you should,” Zhawn suggested in a nearly friendly voice.

                “Not really,” Aedain retorted. “This has nothing to do with me.”

                Zhawn sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, as though he was facing an unruly child who needed to be scolded. For a brief moment, something like sympathy flickered through his golden eyes. He shook his head and smiled somewhat sadly.

                “You  changed much, Aedain, but you’re still as stubborn you used to be,” he said and looked over his shoulder.

                Aedain stiffened when he saw what caught Zhawn’s attention. A bright arrow of light was speeding toward the rummage where he and his adversary were having a chat. It resembled a comet, but he knew precisely what it was, or rather who. Suddenly, two pillars of fire descended from the sky like a lightning striking. They hit the ground flanking Zhawn. Aedain squinted his eyes, blinded by the blazing flames. The reddish glow subsides quickly, revealing two all-too familiar silhouettes. The dragon prince felt like a cretin for having an ounce of hope before.

                “I am a little busy now, so I’ll leave you with my associates,” Zhawn said, his smile growing as he took in the despaired grimace on Aedain’s face. “It seems you won’t escape death this time.”

                Aedain groaned, clearly seeing the sheer hopelessness of the situation.

                “Tell me something I do not know,” he muttered.

                He lifted his uninjured arm in a defensive stance, not much enthusiasm in his movements. After all, it didn’t matter if he resisted or not – he would die anyway. Aedain smiled humorlessly, wondering whether he would meet May in the world beyond the Veil after he died. Perhaps, there was some solace in this.

                Zhawn flashed one last smug smirk at the dragon prince and gracefully changed his form. The magnificent beast leapt into the sky and glided away, clutching the Spear casing in the sharp talons.          Aedain clenched his fist, observing his opponents, the fire creatures. Both youths were smiling at him, looking unnatural like dolls. The liquid fire seemed to fill their eyes, their crimson red hair was moving around their heads as though it was made of flames.

                Soon enough, they moved symmetrically, acting like mirror reflections. Aedain barely noticed when they flanked him, cutting off every possible escape route. He inhaled sharply, readying himself for the final journey.

At the Gate

                “Maewyn, look out!” Leif yelled, clutching May’s arm and yanking her back. She yelped as she stumbled back and froze when she saw a blade falling onto the very spot where she was standing. A lone Karhadonian soldier emerged, lifting his sword to strike again. However, Leif was quicker. Without a second of hesitation, he reached for a dagger and threw it, sending it straight into the opponent’s forehead. The soldier’s eyes squinted before they went glassy, and he collapsed.

                “Good for a human,” Baltar commented, nodding with appreciation. Leif cracked a polite smile.

                “Thanks, let’s go!” the Farnian captain said and darted forward.

                May took a deep breath and jogged after him, struggling to keep up. She scowled when she saw Lavena run past her. Damn, was she slower than the elderly lady?

                “So, what’s the plan?” she asked, not entirely sure if she wanted to hear the answer. The mischievous grin on Baltar’s face confirmed her fears.

                “We’re heading for the gate!” Leif answered her.

                “And we’ll bust it open.” Baltar finished.

                May gulped, her gaze sliding over the demon and Leif to Lavena, but everyone seemed to be absolutely okay with the idea of walking out of the besieged castle through the front door. On the other hand, they could actually stand a chance with Baltar and the witch. Leif turned out to be one hell of a fighter too.

                “More of them,” Baltar muttered just before a large group of Karhadonians jumped out of one of the adjoining corridors. May felt a shiver go down her spine when she saw that they were carrying crossbows.  As the soldiers aimed their weapons at the four of them, May did the best thing she could – she took shelter behind Baltar’s broad back and waited for her companions to do the dirty work.

                “Oilleair!” Lavena exclaimed in the same moment as the Karhadonian’s pulled the triggers. Against her better judgment, May peeked from behind Baltar’s back to see what spell the witch was going to use. She calmly observed the quarrels speed right at her and her companions. However, before the lethal things reached their destination, a wall of fire erupted between her and the Karhadonians, turning the arrows into ash. The enemy soldiers gasped and staggered back, staring at Lavena with terror, but stood their ground. May noticed that their hands were shaking when they were frantically reloading their crossbows.

                “Let’s get them, Lark.” Baltar leapt forward, giving Dorreach in his hand a swing.

                “It’s Leif,” Leif muttered and followed the bald oaf, heading toward right, while the demon took the opponents on their left.

                Baltar’s blade fell onto the Karhadonians swiftly and powerfully like the death’s scythe. With only one blow, he managed to decapitate three of the soldiers. Leif wasn’t going to let the demon take all the glory – he dodged one of the heads, which almost hit him and began cutting the Karhadonians down.

                May winced, seeing the two in the action; Baltar’s strength was unrivaled, but Leif wasn’t a weakling either. His fluent moves and well-aimed strikes betrayed great talent, what was even more admirable considering how young he was. Now she understood why Leif had been appointed to be her bodyguard.

                The Karhadonians had no chance against Baltar and Leif. The lucky ones, who avoided death by a sword, were taken down by Lavena. May raised her eyebrow, observing the elderly lady yell out a spell word in Laismaran and sending three quarrels back toward the last survivors. A pained yelp later, no opponent was alive. The witch clapped her hands.

                “Let’s get out of this cursed place.” She took the lead, having Baltar and Leif follow her like baby ducks trail after their mother. May sighed and joined her companions, her sprint resembling hurdling, as she was jumping over the fallen Karhadonians.

                “Leif,” she breathed out, tugging the back of her friend’s tunic. “I know it’s not the best moment to bring it up, but we need to find Erik.”

                Leif glanced at her and gave her a reassuring smile.

                “I’m sure he’ll be fine. Now it’s important to get you into safety, Maewyn,” he replied.

                “I won’t leave Erik alone here!” May insisted. “I’ll have nightmares for the rest of my life if I do that.”

                Leif sighed heavily, seeing her stubbornness. He was about to speak, when a desperate Karhadonian soldier jumped out of an adjoining corridor out of the blue. The warrior yelled something inarticulate and swung a short sword.

                “Excuse me,” Leif quickly told May and, not slowing down, he slashed the attacker with Sholais, aiming at the blade. The poorly forged steel shattered like a piece of glass. A stream of blood erupted from the soldier’s throat, as Leif cut the artery on his neck.

                May slowed down to stare at the horrid sight, but Leif pulled her by her arm, not letting her to drop the quick pace.

                “Maewyn, our priority is to get out of here. We don’t have time to search for that orphan,” Leif explained calmly, behaving as though he didn’t just pause to slay a man.

                May shot him an angered glare. She understood the situation, but… it was just not right to leave a little child to fend for himself in the midst of the bloodbath.

                “The brat will be fine on his own.” Baltar looked over his shoulder and presented nearly all of his teeth in a grin. “He’s got some experience in hiding and escaping. He’ll find us once the battle is over. ”

                May returned a smile, feeling slightly reassured – after all Erik could do that chameleon trick. Maybe Baltar was right. She should focus on escaping the Red Castle and getting to the docks.

                Lavena furrowed her brows and tucked the single lock of red hair behind her ear.

                “If we fail, Erik could still escape. Either way, he’s safer on his own than with us,” she said, making the smile on May’s face fade and become replaced by a grimace of worry.

                Their group entered the main Dining Hall of the Red Castle. The stronghold was almost empty; it was clear that because of the siege it was understaffed. Perhaps if the situation wasn’t so perilous, May would take her time to admire the elegant archways and elaborate mosaics covering the floor. Compared to the Thoen Stronghold, the Red Castle was much more decorative – the colorful arrases covered every wall; the stained glass in the long, narrow windows was a masterpiece. Each detail was beautiful – from the richly carved tables and chairs to the complex embroidery on the tablecloths.

                As wonderful as the Dining Hall looked, there was no one here, it was silent. Moreover, it looked as though the people left in a hurry – musical instruments were laying in a disarray in a corner; half-eaten dishes were still on the tables.

                They stopped, wondering which one of the doorways should they choose. May looked at Baltar who squeezed his eyes shut and then sniffed the air.

                “After me!” He dashed out toward the modest door at the side of the Hall.

                Leif grabbed May’s hand and hauled her, not wanting her to stay behind. Baltar busted the door open with a powerful kick, tearing it off the hinges and sending it flying inside. He had to duck to squeeze his large body into a narrow and low corridor that was behind the door. The rest of the group followed him. The oil lamps were still lit in the passageway leading to a larger chamber. The smell of spiced already betrayed where Baltar was heading – to the kitchen. As Leif pulled her into the room, May’s nose got invaded by a wide range of delicious and tempting smells.

                “No one’s here,” Leif noticed, looking around the chamber. The fire was still burning in the ovens; vegetables were scattered all over the kitchen as though the cooks had to escape quickly. A stuffed turkey was abandoned near the oven.

                Baltar rushed straight for the other door. He grabbed a piece of raw meat laying on a counter and shoved it into his mouth. He lifted his leg, ready to bust the door open.

                “Wait!” May called. She freed her palm from Leif’s grip and ran to the tall demon. “Hold on, let’s make as little noise as possible. We have no clue what are we up against!”

                Lavena smiled, combing her long, gray hair with her skinny fingers.

                “It’s reasonable,” she said, gliding past May and Baltar. Carefully, she pushed the door handle and opened the door a bit, enough only to have a small chink. May hurried to glance outside, followed by the men. Soon enough the four of them were crowding at the door, each trying to get a glimpse of the surroundings. May had to bear that her head was used by Lavena as a support.

                Once she took a good look, her worry intensified. Outside, numerous Karhadonians were running back and forth, screaming at each other, carrying weapons and equipment used during sieges – parts for the catapults, cauldrons of oil and tar, more arrows for the archers. The Red Castle’s walls looked like a beehive now with all the commotion.

                “It will be damn hard to kill them all,” Leif commented, counting the Karhadonian soldiers. He gripped the handle of Sholais tighter. “But that’s our only chance. On my mark, we run and try to open the front gate.”

                “No way.” Baltar raised his eyebrow, looking at Leif from above with a smirk of superiority plastered across his face.

                “We’re going to run on my mark,” he corrected the young Farnian. Leif gritted his teeth, sending the demon a warning glare, what made Baltar’s grin grow.

                May sighed, knowing that Baltar wouldn’t be intimidated by any of Leif’s threatening looks. For god’s sake, he spent over seventy years with Aedain, and that was more than enough to make him glare-proof.

                “You know what?” May interrupted the stare-war. “How about I give the mark. That way, both egos won’t be hurt.”

                Baltar and Leif gawked at her, as though she stripped them off their manly pride. The Farnian looked away, a bright blush making its way to his cheeks. Lavena giggled, but said nothing.

                “Okay,” May said, seeing there were no protests. “Now!”

                Instantly, she regretted giving the mark without telling everyone to prepare first. She barely said “now”, when Baltar leapt forward, not heeding neither the not entirely open door nor his companions. The massive demon was unstoppable like a tidal wave and reckless like a three-year-old with a stick of dynamite in his hand. With a battle cry that was bound to give out their position, he rammed into Leif, knocking him down. May and Lavena barely managed to avoid colliding with his massive body as they jumped aside, performing a move worth a good action movie.

                “Curses,” Leif muttered, scrambling himself off the floor. In the meantime, Baltar was already diminishing the ranks of Karhadonians. He swung Dorreach with much enthusiasm, using the elegant sword more like an axe. Although in May’s eyes, he looked rather like a farmer with a sickle, a very efficient one at that – the soldiers were getting slaughtered at a mind blowing pace.

                Leif pulled himself up and lifted Sholais, ready to join Baltar in the task of clearing the way to the gate. Before he went into the battle, he looked at May.

                “Stay close to the witch, Maewyn,” he told her. May nodded. Leif opened his mouth, as though he wanted to say something more. The expression in his eyes was a bit strange – he looked somewhat nervous. However, when it appeared that he would cough it out, he shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

                He gave his sword a swing and dashed out to help Baltar.

                May hid behind the door frame, surveying the situation from her seemingly safe haven. Lavena was also peeking.

                “Hmm, they’re doing quite well,” the witch commented. Baltar and Leif were doing all they got, but they were moving very slowly toward the gate. At the current pace, it would take them at least an hour to cut their way through the crowd of Karhadonians. Unfortunately, the enemies weren’t dumb.

                “The archers!” someone yelled.

                “That’s my queue,” Lavena said, stepping out from the hiding place. She locked her gaze on the archers. She clenched her teeth, as though she was doing something that required a lot of effort from her. She smirked and whispered: “Oilleair.”

                May recognized the spell – Lavena had used it before. For a split second, nothing was happening, but then the flames erupted on the both sides of the witch. Two impenetrable walls of raging fire shielded their group from the archers and most of the soldiers. The flames created a corridor leading from the Red Castle straight to the gate. May heard screams of pain and saw dark shapes thrashing within the walls of fire. A large number of Karhadonians were trapped inside the barriers, with Baltar and Leif ready to finish them off.

                “She’s good,” May muttered. She was about to run to Lavena, but she stopped abruptly. She made a few steps back and grabbed the first weapon-like thing she found – a heavy frying pan. Now more or less armed, she ran to the witch, praying that any of the soldiers wouldn’t come near her.

                Lavena looked at the fire she created. The flames shot high in the air; they reached all the way up to the castle’s walls. Droplets of sweat developed on her forehead from the heat. She put her palm on her forehead and swayed on her legs. It seemed as if the magical fire was sustained by her willpower. A distorted sound from behind made her turn back. When she saw a soldier charging straight onto her, she didn’t move, as though her limbs were made of led. The Karhadonian lifted his blade to split her skull in two, when a strange shape flew right next to her head and slammed into the soldier’s face. A characteristic sound of bones breaking followed the bang, and he collapsed, falling onto his back.

                “Did I get him?” May called out as she sprinted toward the witch who, for some reason, looked like she was about to faint. Lavena’s knees buckles and she landed on the ground, groaning.

                May quickly retrieved her frying pan. The soldier who received the blow was still alive, but definitely out of commission – he was moaning from pain, but all he could move were his fingers. She weighed the frying pan in her hand and walked over to Lavena. She extended her hand to her and when the witch’s fingers closed around her hand, May yanked her up.

                “I have to focus on upholding the fire, and I used too much of my power already.” Lavena explained in a weak voice.

                “Don’t worry about it, Baltar and Leif will handle everything,” May assured the witch. Even though she told Lavena to rest assured, she couldn’t stop worrying – what if they needed  her magic again? So far, her spells saved their skins tons of times. As long as the witch was using her sorcery to sustain the fire, she couldn’t do anything else.

                Supporting the elderly witch, May slowly walked toward the gate. She had no intention on throwing herself in the midst of the fight with her deadly frying pan, so she decided to let the men handle the situation. She was maneuvering between the corpses of Karhadonians, stepping carefully so as not to slip on the intestines that covered the ground like a carpet. Baltar and Leif were closer to the gate, but there were still a couple of soldiers left to slaughter. Lavena’s walls of fire were conversely in place, but the enemies were working hard to bring them down. Over the crackling of the flames, May could hear that the Karhadonians were focusing on extinguishing the fire. They were emptying buckets of water on it.

                The flames didn’t diminish, but with every attempt to extinguish them, Lavena grew weaker. It appeared, as though she received pain with each bucketful of water splashed onto the magically created fire.

                Suddenly, gallons of water spilled from above like two waterfalls. It turned out that the enemies transported two enormous barrels atop the walls on the both sides of the gate with the intention to put out the magical fire. Lavena moaned, as if she was hurt, and swayed. The flames hissed before they diminished.

                “Back!” Leif yelled to Baltar. The demon exchanged the dismayed looks with the human warrior and they backed away as reinforcements flooded the space between them and the gate. It seemed, as though the entire garrison of the Red Castle was standing between them and their goal. 

                May was so busy with staring at the commotion by the gate, that she almost missed what was happening behind her back. When she glanced over her shoulder, she froze in terror. On the castle’s higher wall arose a new threat – the Karhadonians were just installing small catapults, aimed straight at their four-people group. Surrounded by the war machines, the army and fire, May let out a despaired whimper.

                “It was so close.” She sighed with regret.

The Chameleon

                Erik slipped past guards out of the Red Castle, clutching an oversized spear in one hand and a pouch of golden coins in the other. None of the Karhadonians noticed him as he ran to the walls and hid in a shed where spare arrows were being stored. He found a secluded spot and became visible again. He controlled his breathing, struggling not to pant loudly – that could draw the soldiers’ attention. For once in his life he was grateful for the demon blood that coursed through his veins – if not the invisibility trick, he would have to rot in the Red Castle.

                Careful not to make any noise, the boy hid the money beneath his tunic. Once he was certain it was safe there, he snatched some string and tied it on the spear, so that he could bear it on his back in the same way Baltar carried his axe. After the last pull, Erik fastened the string to himself in such a way that it would be easy to untie it when needed. Content with the result, he furrowed his blonde brows and focused on blending with the surroundings. He kept on mentally pushing until he could no longer see his hand which he held before his eyes.

                Erik peeked outside and when he thought, it was safe to go, he dashed out from his hiding place to the stairs. He chose the most secluded stairway, so as not to bump into the soldiers. Using the opportunity that no one was there, he ran up the stairs. As soon as he was already on the top, he brushed against a Karhadonian, but the warrior ignored him.

                The boy breathed out with relief, glad that he avoided being caught. He grinned to himself and turned to look outside the walls of the Red Castle. Abruptly, the smile vanished from his face as he saw a hail of arrows speeding toward him. He ducked in the last moment before a lucky arrow flew right through the place he was standing just split second ago.

                I’ve got to watch out, he thought and carefully peeked over the wall. No matter how positive he wanted to be, his situation looked bleak. As far as the eye could see, the Farnian troops were surrounding the Red Castle. Even if he got out of the stronghold, he would have to slip past thousands of soldiers.

                “Fetch water!” Erik whirled around, hearing the screams. When he turned around, he had to lift his hand to his face, to shield his eyes from the bright light. The flames erupted from nowhere, creating a wall that stretched from the castle itself to the gate. The panicked Karhadonians started running toward the flames, grabbing the buckets with water along the way.

                Erik smiled to himself, knowing he could take the advantage of the commotion to escape. All he needed now was a rope, and he saw one a bit closer to the gate, tied to what looked like a stray siege harpoon. What was that thing doing there anyway? Erik shrugged and sprinted toward the object. His whole skin felt tingly – it was that unpleasant sensation that made him want to scratch. It was the first time he blended into the surroundings for such a long time.

                Not wasting his time, Erik grabbed the incredibly heavy harpoon and turned it such way, so that it would stick between battlements. He moved it extremely slowly, afraid that someone might see a floating harpoon. Once it was in place, Erik snatched the rope that was tied to its end. After confirming that the Farnians weren’t currently shooting arrows, he jumped lightly atop of the wall. He lowered the rope and was about to climb down, when he heard a loud hissing. Instinctively, he lifted his head to search for the sound of the noise. It turned out that the Karhadonians were putting out the fire. Before the thick puffs of steam covered the view, Erik stole a glimpse of a familiar face. He shook his head, thinking he was seeing illusions. However, when he squinted his golden eyes, the person was still there and was clutching a frying pan.

                “May?” Erik breathed out, recognizing his friend. He stiffened, processing the information – what was she doing here? Shouldn’t she be in the world beyond the Veil, where Lavena had sent her? Why would she come to Orvik, straight into Zhawn’s hands?

                Then, realization dawned on him. May was a good person; she was also courageous to the point of recklessness – it would be just like her to wander here with the goal to save him, Erik. Still, it was a bit stupid.

                The boy jumped off the battlements, landing on the inside of the wall. He crouched and untied the rope. Quickly, he rolled it and placed over his shoulder. He inhaled, fighting the panic and the instinct to flee away from the danger. It was what he always did – he escaped, leaving his loved ones behind. He ran away from his home in Gosped when the demons were slaughtering his family, leaving his mother to be raped and then slain. He escaped the monastery when his pursuers caught up with him, not bothering to save any of the monks who took him in. Lastly, he let Baltar and Lavena rot in the dungeons, even though they put their lives on the line to make his escape possible.

                Erik clenched his fists. He didn’t want to be a person who ditched his friends; he wished to become someone admirable, like May. He needed to be braver, not to wait for someone to save him. He sucked in breath, struggling to control the fear that threatened to sway his heart, and dashed out toward the gate.

                He was evading the Karhadonian soldiers, not stopping to see if they noticed his presence. The tingling in his skin was turning into a burning pain, but he forced himself to bear the aching, like Baltar would do. When the walkway at the wall was too crowded, Erik jumped onto battlements and kept sprinting, looking forward. He passed numerous soldiers, but none of them looked in his direction – their eyes were set on the commotion under the gate. He glanced that way as well and felt like his heart sung, for he spotted Baltar and Lavena. Did May free them? Erik almost slipped when he saw that Leif from Thoen Stronghold was there too. All four of them were between rock and a hard place now; he had to hurry.

                The boy took a big leap and landed on the gate. He kept running until he was precisely over the middle of it. He stopped and crouched; his little fingers worked quickly as he was tying the rope to a horizontal balk. Using the moment when all eyes were on May and the others, he descended, clutching the rope. The skin inside of his hands got torn off as he slid down the rope much too fast than he should have. When it hurt so much that he couldn’t bear it anymore, he let go off the rope and landed on the ground.

                Not waiting for anyone to notice the cord swinging by the gate to the Red Castle, he slid one of the bolts securing the gate. It was huge and heavy, but the fear helped Erik squeeze more strength from his little body. With one final push, the bolt gave way. The boy handled the next one easily and now only the last one was left, and it was the biggest of three.

                “Look at the gate!” Erik stiffened, realizing he was found out. He glanced nervously over his shoulder and gulped, seeing a bunch of armed soldiers ran toward him. The archers pulled their bowstrings, but they didn’t shoot as they couldn’t see the target.

                Feeling a sudden rush of motivation, Erik pushed the remaining bolt. It was huge and incredibly heavy; it refused to sidle. The boy clenched his teeth and increased the pressure, straining his little frail body so much, that the sweat that dripped from his forehead was obscuring his vision. Then, the bolt budged. Once it was set in motion, Erik didn’t let it become still – he kept pushing until it fell to the ground, and the gate creaked open.

                The Karhadonians stared at the gate of the impenetrable Red Castle which just became vulnerable. The roar of Farnian soldiers resounded in the air when they realized that their victory was at hand. First, it was only loud, but then the chanting became deafening – the mere sound of their joy was enough to strike fear in the hearts of the castle’s defenders.

                Erik barely managed to jump sideways and climb high enough to avoid being squashed by the mass of soldiers who poured inside the stronghold’s walls. The gate was pushed open so forcefully, that it slammed into the walls, making the red bricks crumble. The massive metal hinges gave up and broke; one side of the gate came down onto the people below, crushing both Farnians and Karhadonians.

                The cavalry with the sign of a golden rose on the blue field rode as a vanguard. The mounted soldiers trampled the Karhadonians at the gate without any difficulty. In Erik’s eyes, they were an unstoppable force – they barely slowed down when the first victims fell. Among the storming men rode Duke Thoen himself. Swinging his sword relentlessly, he was one of the most fearsome warriors on the battlefield.

                Erik climbed higher and squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could cover his ears as well. He had seen bloodshed and suffering before, perhaps even more of it than most of his peers, but the sight of the battle was terrifying even for him. Hundreds of people slaughtering themselves, blood flowing in steams like small red rivers – it was too much for the boy. Erik wished he could be somewhere else. In a place that wasn’t ringing with yells and screams of agony, where the severed limbs weren’t flying around. The arrows were whizzing all around him, but miraculously, none of them hit him.

                His skin burned as though he was cast into the fire, but he was too scared to turn visible again as the battle raged on. Erik didn’t know how long he was clutching the remaining gate; it could be moments, hours or days. Finally, his fingers went so numb that they couldn’t hold onto the metal surface anymore. He felt them sliding over the surface of the gate before he fell down, right into the hell of the battle.

                Erik slammed into something hard, falling onto his belly. He coughed when the fall knocked the wind out of his lungs. His forehead bang against something soft and warm; it was a bit hairy as well. He tried to pull himself up, but his hands slid over the fur. His vision was a bit blurry, and it took him a while to figure out that he was facing a horse’s leg.

                On no, the thought as he felt someone grab him by his neck and squeeze.

                “I’ve got you now, Karhadonian scum!” Erik heard an angered yell. Panicked, he gripped the fingers that were entwining his neck and attempted to flex them, but his strength was nothing compared to that of an adult soldier. Not knowing what else to do, he balled his hand in a fist and hit the horse’s leg with all his might. The animal neighed and danced. Erik aimed his thumb where the steed’s artery was and poked it forcefully, nearly breaking his finger in the process. This time, the horse pranced, sending both the boy and the Farnian soldier to the ground.

                Erik yelped as he landed on some corpse, but quickly scrambled himself of the ground and ran ahead. He focused on blending with the surroundings, even though it hurt like nothing before. Suddenly remembering the spear he had with him, he untied the string and clutched the oversized weapon.

                Scared and confused, he looked around. The patch of ground around the castle’s gate was littered with the bodies of dead Karhadonians. Trampled, they barely resembled humans. The Farnians seemed to have seized their victory already, and now they were just killing off the survivors. It looked like Duke Thoen took no prisoners today. The Duke himself wasn’t fighting anymore – Erik spotted his helm shining in the sunlight.

                Probably, he should go to Thoen and tell him about May and that Zhawn was in Orvik. The boy took a deep breath and began maneuvering under the horse’s bellies. He was small, so it was nothing difficult for him to sneak up on the Duke; the only hindrance was the spear which kept banging against the horse’s legs, scaring the animals. When he crouched near enough, he noticed that the riders were encircling something or someone. Over the horses neighing and the soldiers’ chatting Erik could hear the conversation.

                “I’m captain Leif from Farn’s army. We’re not the enemy!” The boy heard a very familiar voice.

                As he sneaked closer, he saw his friend May and her comrades, cornered by the troops like a dear surrounded by a pack of wolves. Leif sheathed one of Aedain’s swords and after putting it on the ground, he lifted his hands in a submissive gesture. Neither Baltar nor Lavena were so compliant though. The huge muscular demon leaned on Dorreach, malevolently eying the soldiers. The witch straightened her back proudly and behaved, as though she was a captured queen. May seemed to be the least confident of the four; she was hiding behind Baltar with the frying pan still in her hand. It appeared to Erik that Duke Thoen didn’t see her yet.

                Farn’s ruler took his helmet off and handed it to one of his adjutants. He furrowed his brows as he surveyed the small group sternly. Seeing Lavena, he greeted her with a curt yet dry nod. His gaze lingered for longer on Baltar, who stared straight in the Duke’s eyes, clearly not intimidated by him. Finally, Thoen caught a glimpse of the last person of the group or rather of her messy short hair. His serious and imperious demeanor vanished, as his jaw went slack and tears filled his eyes. He tossed his sword aside and jumped off the horse, a somewhat truant smile on his lips. Suddenly, he looked as though he was ten years younger.

                “Maewyn!” he exclaimed, excitement and happiness ringing in his voice. Unceremoniously, he shoved Leif out of his way and ran past Baltar. When he was standing in front of May, he let the tears stream down his cheeks. Erik knew that in this moment Duke wasn’t a ruler – he was just a father.

                “Maewyn,” he repeated, staring at the girl he believed to be his real daughter. He scanned her up and down, frowning with worry as he noticed scratches and bruises that were all over May’s body. Before she could answer him, the Duke lounged forward and trapped her in a fatherly embrace. “You are safe and sound, my child.”

                May mumbled something in response, but Erik couldn’t make out what it was. He crouched closer, carefully maneuvering between horses’ legs. When he managed to scramble himself from beneath the steeds’ bellies, he froze, wondering when would be a good moment to abandon his disguise.

                As soon as Erik was only a few feet from him, Baltar’s nostrils flared. The demon sniffed the air and smiled to himself, looking more or less in the direction where the boy was standing. Erik sighed quietly, knowing that Baltar was aware of his presence now.

                Duke Thoen kept squishing May until she placed her hands firmly on his chest and forcefully pushed him away.

                “You’ll suffocate me… father,” she said to the surprised Duke. “I’m fine, maybe a little battered, but I’ll live.”

                Erik covered his mouth with his hand, muffling a snort as he saw Thoen’s baffled face – probably, he expected May to act more ladylike. She looked around, ignoring the expression of hurt on the Duke’s face. She cleared her throat and faced the soldiers.

                “Excuse me!” she yelled as loud as she could. “Have you seen a boy this tall?!”

                She lifted her hand to the level of Erik’s height and continued shouting at the troops.

                “He’s blonde! And has golden eyes!” Erik winced, hearing May yell out his description. Behind her, Baltar looked as though he was about to burst into laughter. With a bright blush making its way up to his cheeks, the boy stepped forward. He let the illusion hiding him dissolve.

                “I’m he…” He paused when numerous spears and swords pointed at his throat. He laughed nervously and looked at May pleadingly. As he hoped, she didn’t let him down.

                “What the heck are you doing?!” she scolded the soldiers, stalking toward Erik and glaring at the Farnians threateningly. “Take those damn weapons away!”

                The soldiers gawked at her, as though they saw a dancing bear, but they obeyed and let the boy go. Erik breathed out with relief. It turned out that it was a good decision to inhale while he could, for May knocked the wind out of his lungs when she hugged him tightly.

                “Gosh, I found you, Erik!” she exclaimed, letting him go. Erik smiled at her, but then he remembered something extremely important. He glanced at the spear in his hand.

                “May, I need to tell you something,” he said, but May shushed him.

                “Later,” she said and turned away from him. She walked over to where the Duke was and Erik trotted after her.

                “Sire!” Leif quickly bowed his head before Thoen in a hasty salute. “The fight is not over yet. I have learnt that Zhawn is currently in Orvik, and he’s in possession of the Dragonslayer’s Spear!”

                Duke Thoen stared at his subordinate as though Leif had eaten a pile of suspicious mushrooms. He arched his eyebrow in disbelief and already opened his mouth to voice his opinion on the subject when Baltar suddenly remembered his goal.

                “Haign Kerral Phiwaine!” he cursed in Laismaran. “You, human Duke, where’s Aedain?”

                May’s brown hair swirled around her head as she looked at Baltar and then at Thoen. She completely ignored that Erik kept tugging her at her sleeve.

                “Where is he? I need to tell him something important!” she called to the Duke.

                Erik sighed with dismay, rolling his eyes.

                I need to tell you something important too, he thought, angry that no one let him speak.

                “Zhawn needs to be taken down!” Leif insisted, but the Duke and the soldiers seemed to be skeptical about his tale.

                “Leif, what are you saying? Zhawn is long dead,” Thoen tried convincing the young captain. When the conversation turned into a petty argument about whether the archenemy existed or not, Baltar groaned, expressing his impatience. He offered his shoulder to Lavena, and both walked over the Duke’s steed. He lifted the witch onto the saddle. When the Duke looked over his shoulder and gave them a disapproving glare, Baltar shrugged his shoulder. “I’ll be taking your horse.”

                With those words, he jumped onto the animal, nearly breaking its back under his weight. He settled himself in front before Lavena and spurred the steed on. The horse neighed – looked utterly terrified.

                “Hey, Baltar!” Leif called and tossed sheathed Sholais to the demon. Baltar caught the sword and grinned at the captain roguishly. Before anyone dared to say or do anything to stop them, the demon and the witch galloped away. The Farnian riders made a gap in their ranks, not eager to be the ones standing between Baltar and his goal. Erik suspected that some of them saw him fight the Karhadonians – although massacring would be probably a better word to describe what he was usually doing with his enemies.

                Erik clenched his fingers tighter around the spear he was holding, and tugged May.

                “Not now, Erik,” she hissed out as she picked up the frying pan that she dropped earlier.

                Erik gulped, feeling that his friend planned something both might regret very quickly. Unfortunately, his intuition was right this time too. Taking advantage of the fact that everyone was focused on Baltar, she stalked toward a man with a long white beard.

                “Excuse me,” she said quietly to him. He leaned in his saddle and then May swung the frying pan at him, hitting him squarely in the side of his head. Erik winced – the blow wasn’t fatal, but it must have hurt a lot. Before the man realized what was happening, May grabbed his cape and yanked it. He fell with a loud plop onto the muddy ground.

                “Maewyn!” Duke coughed out, shocked as he saw what she just did. However, she didn’t stop to explain herself. Instead, she quickly climbed onto the horse’s back and grabbed the reins. She kicked the steed’s sides, and it dashed out. Erik’s reaction was lightning fast. As May was riding past him, he grabbed the stirrup with one hand, holding the spear in the other one. He brought his knees closer to his chest, so that his legs wouldn’t brush against the ground.

                The soldiers were so shocked that they didn’t make a move to stop May until it was too late. When they came to the conclusion that they should cut her way off, she was already past them. Erik glanced in their direction and saw them regroup clumsily, surely readying themselves for the chase after the unruly Lady.

                “Erik, what…” May uttered, noticing the boy hanging onto the stirrup. “Never-mind. Grab my hand!”

                She extended her hand to him, blindly searching for his – she had her gaze set on the road before her. Erik struggled; a part of him wanted to toss the spear aside and grab May’s palm, but he knew he couldn’t do it. He did the only thing he could. Quickly, he let go off the stirrup, hoping that he’ll catch his friend’s hand. His fingers brushed against her wrist, and it seemed that he would fall, when May clasped his palm and pulled him up. Once he was a bit higher, she let go off the reins and used her other hand. She grabbed him by his collar and yanked him onto the saddle in front of her.

                “Thanks,” Erik breathed out, hardly believing that it had worked. He looked away for a brief moment to watch the road. His golden eyes widened. “Watch out!”

The Firestorm

            Aedain landed on all fours, coughing blood. He did not defend himself when a kick to his side sent him onto his back – his will to fight was broken. He was well aware that he was not struggling neither for victory nor for survival; he was waiting for death.

                The fire creatures laughed elegantly, a hint of mockery detectable in their clear voices. Instead of finishing the demon off, they jumped backwards, waiting for him to stand up. Aedain looked at them indifferently and slowly scrambled himself out of the ground, barely able to support himself on his broken limbs. Like countless times before, the duo was patiently waiting for him before they dashed out to beat him senselessly again.

                They lounged forward, flanking him. One of them hit him in his back so fast, Aedain would barely stand a chance to block the blow. He stumbled forward and felt the foot of the other one collide with his stomach, only to hit his solar Plexus a split second later. He staggered and fell on one knee. Every breath hurt, as his bruised lugs were surrounded by shattered ribs. Aedain doubted whether he had one in his ribcage, that was not broken.

                He stared at his torturers, a streamlet of blood flowing out if the corner of his mouth.

                The twins grinned at him.

                “It was fun,” one of them said and pouted theatrically. “Such a shame we have to finish already.”

                “Tell us, dragon prince, are you scared of dying?” his twin asked, cocking his head.

                Aedain snorted with disdain and sent them the most threatening glare he could muster. To be honest, he was not scared to die. He welcomed death, for he wanted his suffering to be over already.

                “Go to hell,” he hissed as he tried to stand up. He cursed mentally when the shattered leg refused to listen to him – he did not want to die on his knees.

                “That is where you will be in a moment,” the duo said in a unison, balling their hands in fists and leaping forward toward Aedain. The demon’s instincts told him to close his eyes, but his pride would never let him do such a thing – Aedain son of Kaellach would welcome the embrace of death, while staring it in the face.

                “Hey! You shitheads!”

                The duo paused just when they were about to deliver a final blow to Aedain. They froze and looked over their shoulders.

                Aedain’s golden eyes widened, when he recognized the crude voice.

                “Yeah, I’m talking to you, two pissheads. What are you staring at, shitfaced pansies? Oh damn, you’re uglier than my hairy balls!”

                Aedain smiled to himself. Yes, that was definitely Baltar.

                The twins gritted their teeth, apparently reacting to Baltar’s taunting. When they stepped away from the dragon prince, he saw his comrade. He was standing confidently in front of the fire creatures; he wielded Dorreach and Sholais. A smug grin adorned his face, as he kept sprouting profanities toward the enemies.

                “Are you too scared to fight me, twats?” Baltar lured the duo away from Aedain.

                The dragon prince moaned from the overwhelming pain and collapsed, not having enough strength to stand, or even sit. His eyes were set on Baltar and the twins. It was such a waste – now when his comrade finally made his appearance, he was too exhausted and injured to escape.

                Suddenly, Aedain’s eyes caught a movement. He glanced that way and saw an old hag riding toward him. She dismounted and leant over him. Her face seemed oddly familiar. Where did he see her? Images of debris and the portal came to his mind. He remembered.

                “The witch,” he whispered.

                “Yes, that’s me,” Lavena said, looking at his extensive injuries before setting her unyielding gaze on Aedain’s eyes.

                “Prince Aedain, where is Zhawn?” she asked slowly, as though she wanted to make sure that he understood her.

                The corners of Aedain’s mouth twisted upwards and a humorless chuckle escaped his lips.

                “He has the Spear,” he coughed out, waiting for the startled look on Lavena’s face. However, he got disappointed as the witch maintained her unreadable demeanor.

                “I know. That’s why I need to know where he is,” she insisted.

                Aedain narrowed his eyes at her and scowled.

                “You want the Spear for yourself,” he concluded. Lavena rolled her eyes and cursed quietly, betraying her impatience.

                “It’s not important right now!” she almost yelled. She glanced at Baltar, who was taking on the twin creatures – so far it seemed that he was coping well, but she saw that tactic before when the duo fought Aedain. She glared at the prince. “What IS important is that Zhawn cannot be allowed to keep the Dragonslayer’s Spear.”

                Aedain observed Baltar’s struggle for a brief moment, before answering the witch.

                “Baltar may be tough, but I am a lot stronger than him. Heal me and I will reclaim the Spear for you,” he said. Lavena gazed at him skeptically, probably knowing well that his offer was a blatant lie. Naturally, Aedain would never give the Dragonslayer’s Spear to anyone, even if he managed to defeat the duo and Zhawn, what was questionable. The witch bit at her lower lip, considering the bargain.

                “Beat them up,” she said and placed her palms on Aedain’s chest. She began chanting a Laismaran spell. The dragon prince recognized its words – it was a plea for the ancestors to lend their power to Lavena. A faint glow surrounded her hands, and he felt a pleasant warmth engulfing him. The pain faded away, but not all of it.

                “I don’t have enough power to heal all of your injuries,” Lavena explained quietly. “I’ll heal as much as I can.”

                While the witch was tending to Aedain’s wounds, Baltar was fighting the battle of his lifetime. For several moments, he was faring well, but he was smart enough to know that the duo was luring him in the false sense of security and reading his movements. When they ceased toying with him, the situation worsened immensely. Suddenly, he began losing against the hail of punches and kicks, not being able to keep up with the duo’s immense speed. Once Baltar received the first blow, it was all over. He staggered back, and another punch from behind almost broke his spine. The next kick shattered his ribs so easily, as though they were made of glass. Aedain had no delusions – his comrade would last even less than himself.

                “Hurry, old hag,” he hissed, but in repose he received only Lavena’s irritated glare as she kept chanting her healing spell.

                Aedain gritted his teeth, impatiently tapping his now whole fingers against the pavement he was laying on. He looked away from Baltar, already knowing how the fight would proceed from this moment forwards. When he glanced toward the Red Castle, he stiffened. He saw yet another horse galloping here, and the riders were persons he knew very well. One of them was the last one he wished to see now – May.

                He cursed internally, seeing the woman spurring on the horse. Before her sat the Guardian of the Key. When the boy saw Aedain, he yelped and nervously shifted on the saddle, desperately clutching the spear which was far too big for him. The demon did not blame the boy for his reaction – back when he was a young child, he would behave the same way if he saw Zhawn or any other of his old enemies.

                Aedain sat up, ignoring Lavena’s efforts to keep him flat on the ground.

                “I’m not finished!” she protested.

                “You are,” Aedain informed her and stood up, shaking the witch off him. He pressed his chest and clenched his fist. The ribs were whole; his left arm remained paralyzed, but the right one was ready to put in a good use. Here and there, he felt aching, but it was nothing compared to his miserable condition from before. The satisfied smile vanished from his face, when May rode to him and slid off the horse’s back. Clenching his teeth, Aedain strode toward her.

                “Aedain, listen…” she began, walking in his direction to meet him, but he interrupted her.

                “What are you doing here?” he hissed. Not waiting for her response, he snatched May by her waist and attempted to put her back on the horse, but she was resisting by frantically flailing her arms and legs, whacking him.

                “Put me down!” she shrieked. Aedain glared at her, realizing that it was impossible to place the woman on the horse, without knocking her out first. Hastily, he lowered her onto the ground. He grabbed her by her shoulder and looked her in the eye.

                “Woman, get yourself as far as possible from here,” he ordered, but May shook her head.

                “I have to tell you something first,” she said quickly, as though she feared he would interrupt her. Aedain furrowed his brows, earnestly ready to listen to whatever nonsense she needed to convey, when a loud thud distracted him. He turned away from the woman to see that Baltar was already on his back, his arms twisted at odd angles. Sholais and Dorreach were laying nearby. Aedain’s comrade coughed, and a fountain of blood spurted from his mouth.

                Damn, when I was idling around with the woman, Baltar almost got killed, Aedain thought. Knowing that it was the last moment to save his comrade, he clenched his fists and was about to dash out. However, something stopped him – it was the delicate, small hand clutching his sleeve. He glanced over his shoulder.

                “I do not have time for this, woman!” he hissed to May, but she stared at him sternly, refusing to let go.

                “Water is their weakness,” she whispered to him. Aedain’s eyes widened. How did she…?

                “Water?” he asked quietly.

                May nodded.

                “Go get them,” she said. She bit her lower lip, as though she wished to say more, but reconsidered. Smiling nervously, she masked her uneasiness. For no clear reason, Aedain felt the urge to berate her for looking so concerned and assure her that he would win this fight. However, he was silent, for he was not entirely certain, he could keep such a promise. It did not escape his attention that May’s hand trembled slightly, as she was clutching his sleeve. Hesitantly, she released his sleeve and stepped back.

                Aedain smiled to her and lounged forward to Baltar’s rescue, looking at her one last time. He sped up and rammed into one of the twins, knocking him off the feet with one powerful kick. The demon crouched and grabbed Dorreach’s handle. Keeping his eyes fixed on his opponents, he stood up and assessed the situation. The red-haired youths were scowling at him, clearly displeased that he was still alive. Aedain furrowed his brows, as he glanced toward the haven – he had to lure the fire creatures away from Baltar and May, straight to the sea.

                “Tired already?” he asked, feigning his usual cockiness. He trod carefully away from his injured comrade. “Just imagine how disappointed Zhawn will be, when he finds out that you failed to kill me.”

                Aedain smirked, seeing the twins snarl at him. He twisted the corners of his mouth upwards, taunting them with an arrogant smile – it was enough to make them lose their composure. The fire duo clenched their teeth, the identical grimaces distorting their unnaturally beautiful faces, and lounged forward. Aedain jumped back, heading toward the haven.

                “Your time is up,” one of the twins hissed and moved with such an incredible speed, that Aedain barely registered what was happening. However, after the previous failures, he knew what to expect now. Instead of engaging his opponents, he eluded their blows and kicks, slowly leading them to the sea.

                “May, I really need to tell you something.” Erik tugged at May’s sleeve, but she was too focused on Aedain’s fight with Zhawn’s minions. Fortunately, it looked like he was using his head at last and followed her advice. She patted Erik’s head absentmindedly.

                “Later, Erik,” she said.

                “May!” He tried to get her attention again, but there were far more important things to do right now. Right now, Hailey was in the docks and needed May’s help. However…

                Baltar caught her attention, as he struggled to sit up. An unpleasant gurgle escaped his throat, as he was choking on his own blood, before he coughed it out. Moaning, he pressed one of his broken arms to his chest, as though it would help ease the pain from the shattered ribs. He attempted to pull himself up, but with his upper limbs crushed, it was not an easy task. It was a pitiful sight.

                May clenched the reins tighter, her gaze traveling from the stirrup, dangling before her eyes, and hurting Baltar. Her knees felt stiff; her legs refused to move. She knew that she should ride to the docks immediately; nevertheless, she hesitated. It felt wrong to leave Baltar and the others after all that they’ve been through together.

                Hailey, hang on for a little bit longer, she thought and ran to tend to the wounded demon.

                “Don’t move,” May said hastily, kneeling by Baltar’s side. She glanced at Aedain, who was still holding the duo at bay, before taking a good look on the massive bald demon.

                “You look like crap.” She summed up. Baltar cracked her a smile.

                “I know,” he breathed out, his voice shaking. He lifted his head a bit, and his grin widened as he stared over May’s shoulder. She looked back, curious to see what gladdened Baltar.

                It was Lavena – the elderly witch made her way toward the injured demon, supported by Erik. Her gray hair was in disarray; the strands glued to the sweaty skin. It struck May how tired she appeared; it appeared that the witch’s wrinkles deepened, her back was bent. Right now, Lavena looked like a frail old lady, not the powerful sorceress and fierce fighter.

                “Heal my right arm, I’ll be needing it,” Baltar said with a saucy grin.

                “I can’t say ‘no’ to you,” Lavena replied, an equally coquettish smile on her lips. She fell to her knees by Baltar’s side and placed her hands upon the demon, just like she did before with Aedain. Before she began her chants, she stared at May.

                “What are you doing here, girl? Take Erik and flee!” she said sharply.

                “I know, I - ” May mumbled, but Lavena cut her off. Suddenly, the witch grabbed her shoulders and shook her.

                “Listen, whatever happens today, you must live. It’s crucial. Once you’re dead, it’s all over for us; Zhawn will win. As long as you’re alive, you can at least buy the humans in Kal Laismarr several decades of peace.” Lavena was looking at May incredibly seriously. “You must take refuge in a place where no one will find you, neither Zhawn nor Prince Aedain!”

                May stared at the witch blankly, confused.

                “I don’t quite understand.” She confessed.

                Baltar lifted his head, his golden eyes wandering between Lavena and May.

                “Neither do I,” he said. “Why should she hide?”

                Lavena glanced down at the Laismaran warrior and hissed a curse. She released May’s shoulders and put her hands back Baltar’s chest.

                “Forget what you heard,” she told the demon quickly, before she stared at May.

                May stood up. She clenched her jaws, reluctant to make promises, she couldn’t keep. She wished, she could just run away, but she had a younger sister to save. It was the time to get moving to the docks. Erik followed her like a puppy, when she stalked toward her horse. May took one last look at Aedain and Zhawn’s minions – they were fighting in the distance, so she couldn’t tell if the dragon prince was winning or losing. Quickly, she helped Erik get on a horse, before she climbed after him. She snatched the reins and turned the horse around, wanting to find a route around the spot where Aedain and Zhawn’s lackeys were.

                She stiffened when she heard the tramp of the hooves.  The ground shook as a good portion of Farn’s army galloped along the main street, straight toward where she and Erik were. Ahead of the troops rode Duke Thoen, flanked by Leif and that old man, whom she hit with the frying pan. May cursed inwardly, seeing that her fake father looked very angered – with the bloodstained armor and the thick furrowed brows, he could easily pass for a god of war.

                “I think you’re in trouble,” Erik stated the obvious. May gulped, thinking that the boy voiced her thoughts. She pulled the reins as her horse neighed and danced under her.

                The noise of the hooves beating against the paving became deafening as the Farn’s troops got closer. The Duke slowed down, letting his soldiers ride forward and flank May. Once all of her escape routes were cut off, Thoen kicked the sides of his horse and approached her. His facial expression betraying how displeased by her earlier behavior he was. When their horses’ sides were nearly touching, May saw the Duke’s jaw twitching.

                “Could you tell me, Maewyn, why did you knock general Vangard with a frying pan?” he asked almost calmly.

                May set her gaze on the ground, squeezing Erik, as though he were a teddy bear.

                “I needed his horse and I didn’t think he would lend it to me,” she said and looked up shyly, waiting for the Duke’s wrath to erupt.

                However, it didn’t. Thoen’s jaw went slack, and he shook his head in disbelief.

                “Since when my daughter has more guts than half of my army?”

                “I know; I had no idea I had it in me.” May smiled.

                Duke Thoen laughed; it was clear to May how relieved he was to have seen her safe and sound. He reached out for the reins she was holding, and took them from her. He turned his horse around and lead her steed by his side. Even though the battle in Orvik was far from finished, May felt secure now.

                “Sire!” Suddenly, Leif yelled, pointing his finger at the sky. May, the Duke and half of Farn’s army set their eyes on the sky over the Karhadonian land. There was something seriously wrong with it – just beneath the clouds, two sparks were circling one another. They looked like two comets moving incredibly fast, so rapidly that it appeared that they were creating a circle of fire. At first, it looked like a pretty illusion, but soon it escalated into a threat; the ring of flames grew. It thickened in seconds, illuminating Karhadon’s capital with the bright orange glow.

                As it increased its size, May felt droplets of sweat developing on her forehead. Quickly, she wiped it off her face, and looked around. The soldiers were staring at the phenomenon with their mouths opened agape, even Lavena and Baltar seemed to be in shock. When she gazed back in the sky, she stiffened in horror – the circle of flames stopped growing, but it was so enormous that it was hanging over the half of Orvik. Then, it started spinning. Initially slowly, the movement was barely detectable. However, not even a minute passed until the whoosh of wind hit May’s ears. She could only stare helplessly, as the glowing disc was spinning amazingly fast and descending to the ground like a fire tornado.

                May panicked. She looked around frantically, her instinct telling her to run. However, the firestorm was so gigantic, that even if she had a clear way, she wouldn’t be able to escape death. Some of Farn’s soldiers galloped away in a futile attempt to get out of Orvik, but May knew they had no chance to make it. Erik grabbed her hand and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the end. May embraced the boy, her gaze locked on the flaming skies that were about to fall onto her.

                “Sweet Iliana,” Duke Thoen whispered when the flames swooped downwards, engulfing the entire Orvik.

One

                The unbearable heat engulfed May, as the massive cloud of fire descended from the skies. She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see her friends being fried, but the bright orange light shone through her eyelids. Everyone froze, simply waiting for the death to come. Not one of the soldiers tried to flee anymore; they must have known already that it was pointless. The deafening roar of raging flames rang in her ears. May embraced Erik tighter, burying her face in his blonde hair.

                “Dideainne!” Suddenly, Lavena’s voice was heard over the sound of firestorm.

                May’s eyelids fluttered open, when the excruciating heat subsided and the roar of flames became quieter. She glanced at the glowing sky and gasped, seeing a blue, shimmering dome extended over the entire city. The thin layer of what appeared to be some force field, kept the flames at bay. The fire was swirling all over the magical shield, as though it was searching for a weak point. However, the dome was strong and unwavering.

                The witch of Riada Swamp stood with her back straight; her arms lifted as though she was supporting the magical dome with the power of her muscles. Her thin limbs shook; streams of sweat made their way down her face. The veins were visible from under her skin, pulsing erratically. Lavena let out a pained grunt and clenched her teeth, staying strong. She lifted her head and searched with her eyes for Duke Thoen; she set her gray eyes on him.

                “Towards the haven. Keep your men close to me,” she uttered and turned around. Her knees wobbled when she turned around and with great effort, made a step in the direction of the sea. Slowly, she headed to the haven, struggling to keep herself on her feet.

                Duke Thoen shifted in his saddle to give orders to his soldiers.

                “Inform the troops that they need to keep close to the sorceress,” he said to several subordinates, who rode away to carry out his orders. Thoen spurred his steed onward and dragged May’s horse after him, watching so that the animal wouldn’t gallop away.

                “I’ll help the demon,” Leif said quickly and jumped off his stallion. He ran to Baltar, who was still laying flat on his back. The young captain snatched Sholais and shoved the sword into the demon’s hand. “Can you stand?”

                Baltar groaned and pushed Leif aside, as he pulled himself up. He unsheathed Sholais and walked after Lavena, limping.

                “I’m fine, Luke,” he muttered, his mouth twisting in a forced grin. However, the shallow breathing betrayed that his injuries were far from healed.

                Leif sighed.

                “It’s Leif, not Luke,” he corrected Baltar.

                The Farnian soldiers regrouped quickly, so that they would be as close to one another, as possible. Their stirrups were brushing against each other. The horses were scared and irritated by the proximity of other animals; the Farnians were holding reins firmly, grasping them nearly by the bits. May craned her neck and lifted herself in the saddle, to get a better look. She noticed that not only Thoen’s soldiers were gathering near Lavena. The men, that the Duke sent, rounded up scared civilians and even the survivors of Karhadonian army. Friends and foes alike, everyone was protected by the sorceress. The extraordinary procession was moving at a snail’s pace, slowly but surely approaching the haven. The magical, shimmering dome began flickering like a broken glow-tube, but it still kept the flames away from the people. The shield’s size was gradually decreasing; surely, Lavena wouldn’t be able to hold it up for eternity. Who would stop Zhawn’s minions then?

                “Where’s Aedain?” May whispered to herself; she couldn’t see the cocky dragon prince anywhere.

                Erik narrowed his golden eyes and set them on the road before them.

                “He lies there!” he exclaimed, pointing his finger at a small figure in the distance. May squinted her eyes, struggling to discern what Erik saw. Indeed, someone was splayed on the pavement. As the procession came closer, it turned out to be Aedain.

                Slowly, he rolled onto his stomach and stood up, panting. His gaze was locked on Zhawn’s minions who were gliding high in the sky. The duo relentlessly attempted to engulf the humans in flames, currently not paying much attention to him. Aedain made eye contact with Baltar and pointed first at the twins beneath the clouds, and afterwards at the sea which was not far away. Subsequently, he gave quite a display of pantomime, waving with his hand awkwardly and making numerous complicated signs. May’s gaze traveled between him and Baltar, who, much to her amazement, seemed to understand what Aedain was trying to tell him. Once the prince was done with waving and pointing, Baltar’s heavy hand fell on Lavena’s shoulder.

                “We have a plan. Let me out of here,” he said.

                Lavena didn’t respond right away, focused on upholding the shield. Hesitantly, she looked the demon in the face.

                “Are you certain you will succeed?” she asked solemnly.

                “Yes,” Baltar replied seriously.

                Lavena smiled somewhat sadly.

                “Very well,” she said. “I will collapse the shield for you to pass. You will have only a moment.”

                Baltar grinned to her boyishly.

                “You’re a great woman. Promise me you’ll let me take you to watch the sunset from the top of Beann Grumhill.” His smile widened, but faltered when Lavena shook her head, regret reflecting in her eyes. Baltar sighed and turned around, darting toward the edge of the shield.

                May felt Erik almost crush her ribs, as the shimmering layer separating them from the flames, vanished all of a sudden. The distant sound of raging flames, stopped being so distant – the fire lounged toward the people gathered around Lavena.

                “Dideainne!” the witch called, reaching with her hands to the orange sky.

                The shimmering dome appeared once again, but the fire consumed it rapidly as though it didn’t have any power anymore. Lavena gasped.

                “Dideainne!” She repeated the spell, desperation in her voice. She convulsed when she produced the magical layer, her hands shaking. Unfortunately, the flames defeated this shield just as easily as the previous one.

                The sorceress hyperventilated, staring at the meager results of her magic with disbelief. She gazed around frantically, taking in the sight of all people looking at her with hope. She took a shallow, ragged breath.

                “DIDEAINNE!” she yelled as loud as her lungs allowed. A pole of blinding blue light erupted from her hands, rushing upwards. When it reached the flames, it erupted like fireworks, spreading the dome of light over the people gathered around the sorceress. The flames hissed as they hit the shield, but this time they didn’t pass through. They drained over it like rain over an umbrella.

                Lavena smiled, looking up. Two twin streams of blood leaked out of the corners of her eyes, like tears. Her arms trembled, the net of veins became more pronounced; her blood vessels looked as though they were about to explode. The red liquid sprouted from her ears and nose.

                “Lavena!” May exclaimed in horror, when the witch collapsed to her knees, shivering.

                “Maewyn, no!” Duke Thoen exclaimed, but she didn’t listen to him – she jumped off the horse and sprinted to the sorceress, followed by Erik. By the time she got to Lavena, the witch’s face was covered with blood. Her skin was pale, covered in a web of purple veins. May and Erik knelt at her sides, supporting her trembling arms; this was the only way they could help her.

                As Lavena’s strength faltered, so did the size of the shield. The shimmering layer of the protective magic was thinning, barely holding the flames at bay.

                “Aedain, Baltar, hurry,” May whispered.

                “Stop ignoring me!” Aedain yelled, getting the attention of the twins. The red-haired youths ceased their attack on Lavena’s shield, and shifted their attention to the dragon prince. He smirked and waved with Dorreach, signaling he was fit and ready to continue their fight, despite the previous mishap. The twins scowled simultaneously and abandoned their firestorm, heading toward Aedain. Once set in motion, the ring of fire swirled, making the destructive flames push onto the magical force field.

                The twins landed elegantly before Aedain. The demon smirked, seeing the sour faces.

                “He just won’t die,” one of the twins commented grimly.

                “We’ll take care of the humans later,” the other one decided, and, precisely like Aedain planned, they lashed onto him. Exactly like before, he kept dodging their blows and luring them toward the sea. The twins flanked him, cutting off his escape route and simultaneously delivered one of their deadly roundhouse kicks. However, he anticipated their favorite blow, and leapt onto the ground, rolling away. Once he jumped back onto his feet, he had to avoid a series of equally dangerous blows.

                Aedain was set on not making the same mistake once again – if he engaged them directly, he would end up with his bones shattered. He was strong, but not enough to withstand a direct hit from the duo. Reading their movements, he danced to avoid all the potentially lethal strikes. The twin’s movements grew erratic and hasty, as their patience was wearing thin, but that was to Aedain’s advantage; such inaccurate, fewer creative blows were easier to avoid.

                Suddenly, he dropped his defense and moved on to the offense. He swung Dorreach at one of the twins. Naturally, the red-haired youth could dodge it, but Aedain’s foot was already waiting to collide with his face. The dragon prince smirked, when he saw one of his enemies stumble back, with his footprint on the forehead. Fortunately, he learnt his lesson and did not let this temporary triumph cloud his judgment – he danced to the rear, just in time to avoid a kick from the other twin. He glanced away for a split second, before dashing forward to entertain his adversaries with the finest of his swordsmanship. The twins could only dodge. If not for his previous experience, Aedain would have thought that he had them on the ropes. However, they were simply analyzing his fighting style, but he knew it. Once he noticed the boost in their confidence, he backed away.

                “You think you’re going to surprise us?” the twins asked him in a unison, mockery ringing in their smooth voices.

                Aedain grinned wolfishly at them.

                “Frankly, yes,” he answered, staring his enemies in their smug faces. He barely finished speaking to Zhawn’s minions, when a whoosh of leathery wings got their attention. They looked upwards, only to see a gray dragon descending from the skies, flying right toward them. The airborne beast was carrying a reservoir for rainwater in his talons. The enormous barrel must have been incredibly heavy, as the dragon was barely able to stay in the air while transporting his cargo.

                “Surprise,” Aedain said, his smile growing as his companion released the reservoir, letting it fall right where the twins were standing. The duo was staring upwards blankly, as though not understanding what was happening. They made no move to escape.

                Aedain barely restrained himself from chuckling – the seemingly unbeatable foe has been outsmarted and all thanks to his genius. And a hint the woman gave me, he added in his thoughts, reluctantly granting May a part of the glory. He jumped back, not eager to get hit by any plank.

                It was like a dream coming true; Zhawn’s minions simply stood there, petrified when the reservoir came crashing inches from them. Aedain waited to see the fire creatures killed by the water, as the enormous barrel broke into pieces, releasing its contents. The water splashed, covering Aedain and the area in the radius of about hundred feet. He squeezed his eyes shut, when the rainwater splashed into his face. He wiped it off hastily, using his sleeve, and looked ahead.

                He blinked, not understanding. Where were they? The pieces of wood were laying everywhere, but he saw no trace of the twins. Did they simply evaporate? Aedain looked up and he felt as though his heart stopped. High in the air, two fire silhouettes were floating above the shattered reservoir, unharmed. His brilliant plan failed.

                Baltar landed beside Aedain and assumed his human-like form. He scratched his goatee, staring at the adversaries with concern.

                “Do we have plan B?” he asked.

                “No,” Aedain replied grimly.

                He exchanged looks with his comrade; Baltar sighed heavily.

                “It sucks,” he commented, securing his grip on Sholais.

                “It sure does,” Aedain agreed.

                Both demons stepped back, before the red-haired youths charged onto them so quickly, that neither Baltar nor Aedain could predict from where the attack would come. Suddenly, one of the duo appeared out of thin air right behind them, already swinging his leg at the weaker of the demons. The dragon prince barely managed to push his comrade out of the adversary’s way in time. The red-haired youth’s kick missed Baltar by an inch. Although Aedain lounged forward, swinging Dorreach, he fluently avoided the blade, lightly leaping toward the sky. While still in air, he flipped and smirking malevolently, delivered another powerful blow with his leg. This time he did not miss – the nasty kick to Aedain’s right shoulder made Dorreach fall to the ground, rolling on the pavement.

                “Tch,” the dragon prince hissed out and jumped back, pressing his paralyzed left hand to the aching shoulder.

                The twin smiled innocently, standing between Aedain and his weapon.

                “Aedain, catch!” Baltar yelled and tossed him Sholais. The bright blade spun, sparkling in the sunlight, as though it was forged out of moonlight itself. Aedain snatched the handle aptly and nodded to his comrade, silently thanking him for the assistance. He pointed the tip of the sword to his opponent and charged, but he vanished.

                The red-haired youth’s eyes were set on Aedain, but then they wandered toward Baltar, who was currently unarmed. Without any warning, he dashed to the robust demon like a wolf that just spotted a weak prey.

                “Baltar, run!” Aedain called, following the fire creature, trying to drag him away from Baltar. As he ran after the red-haired youth, unrest crept into his mind – they were fighting only one of the two, so where was the other one?

                A deafening sound soon answered Aedain’s questions. He stopped as the ground beneath his feet shook, when a powerful explosion rang through the air, making his eardrums hurt. A flash of bright light blinded him. Instinctively, he crouched, shielding his head. The debris was sent flying in his direction; he managed to dodge some of them, but many fragments hit him in his torso and limbs. Aedain lowered his arms hesitantly, feeling confused; he still heard ringing in his ears.

                The streets in the haven district were narrow, and the buildings were incredibly tall and linked with each other, in order to spare the precious space. Now they were swaying from side to side; the white parget was crumbling, falling to the ground like snow in the ice season. Once set in motion, the buildings began folding like a card house. When one of the houses collapsed, the neighboring ones followed and a hail of bricks rained onto the streets.

                Aedain ran to the opposite side of the narrow alley, avoiding being squashed by the butcher’s house landing precisely in the place where he was standing just a while ago. Clutching Sholais tightly, he looked around, frantically searching for Baltar. However, his comrade was nowhere to be seen, unlike Zhawn’s minions. Both twins were balancing atop one of the rocking buildings, their crimson eyes set on Aedain and the identical self-satisfied smirks decorating their eerily beautiful faces.

                The dragon prince sharply inhaled the air, struggling to find Baltar’s scent. Among the stench of conflagration countless human corpses, it was virtually impossible to isolate that one particular trace. Nonetheless, a faint familiar scent of Laismaran blood got into his nostrils. Compared to the smell of human blood, it was different – less metallic. Hastily, Aedain jumped onto the debris, looking in the direction from where the scent came. There he was – laying almost buried beneath the debris. Baltar did not move. Both his body and the crushed fragments of what used to be a building’s wall, were smeared in the crimson liquid.

                “Looks like your friend won’t be helping you anymore,” one of the twins said in a sing-a-song tone, gracefully skipping off the building and landing in front of Aedain.

                “Let’s end this quickly.” The demon spun around, when he heard the identical voice right behind him. His gaze darted from one of his opponents to another, as he assumed a defensive stance. Not again, he thought as he registered the twin’s lighting fast attack, too late to parry it.

                May looked up, observing with horror how the force of the magical shield diminished, along with Lavena’s strength. The light that created the dome, was growing paler with every passing minute; single sparks of fire were already getting through the thin layer of protective magic and circling above the heads of terrified people.

                Lavena coughed blood and would have collapsed, if not for May’s and Erik’s support. Before their eyes, she was changing – her skin went saggy and even more wrinkled than before, her arms thinned. The thick gray locks began shedding like flower petals falling from a cherry tree in the late spring. It appeared as though she aged decades in a matter of minutes.

                “Stand back,” she hissed out through the clenched teeth. When neither May nor Erik listened to her, she looked at them sternly and exclaimed: “Get back!”

                Erik was the first one to heed to Lavena’s order. He jumped onto his feet and dragged hesitating May away from the sorceress.

                Lavena’s legs were wobbling, as she stood up and lifted her eyes to gaze onto the burning skies above her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. May held hers – somehow deep in her heart, she knew that this moment was meaningful, profound.

                “Service is my life,” the sorceress whispered.

                Suddenly, bright light engulfed her, as though it originated from within her. Lavena yelled when the glow erupted from her body, creating the pole of pure magic, heading toward the sky. She screamed as though an excruciating pain shot through her body, but she never ceased channeling her power to the protective dome. The thin layer of shimmering light thickened instantly; the orange glow of the flames became overwhelmed by the bluish shade of the sorceress’s magic.

                A low buzzing sound filled the air, ringing in a harmony with the trembling of the ground beneath May’s feet. For a moment, everything stilled, and it appeared like the time has stopped. Lavena opened her eyes, her irises looked now like liquid silver, just like the surface of the portal. She smiled to herself a split second before a shockwave knocked everyone off their feet, sending May and everyone gathered under the magical dome, onto the ground. Simultaneously, high above their heads, the protective umbrella exploded with the blue light, bright like a supernova. The unstoppable force of Lavena’s spell, swept the hostile firestorm away, extinguishing the flames in a blink of an eye.

                May palpated the paving under her hands, clumsily crawling on her fours. She opened her eyes, but all she could see was whiteness. Slowly, she began discerning darker shapes as her vision returned.

                “Lavena!” she heard Erik’s strangled cry. Unsurely scrambling herself off the ground, she followed the boy’s voice. The outlines of objects and people were still unclear. She was stumbling and tripping along the way.

                The blurriness subsided, unveiling the sight that would carve deep into her memory. Erik was trembling; his gaze set on Lavena. The witch collapsed onto her back; her gray hair scattered around her head like a silvery halo. The powerful sorceress of Riada Swamp, laid with her limbs splayed, barely resembling herself; she bore great likeness to a skeleton covered in a dried skin. She looked so fragile, so old, so dried. Along with the remains of her magical power, Lavena used all of her life force to fuel the spell that overcame the might of Zhawn’s minions. Her glassy eyes stared blankly at the sky above their heads.

                Erik turned his head to stare at May helplessly.

                “She’s gone, May,” he said quietly, his voice trembling. Tears flowed out of his honey-colored eyes.

A New Player

                “She can’t be…” May whispered, staring in disbelief at Lavena’s lifeless body. It felt so… unreal, as though it hadn’t truly happened. All sounds reaching her ears were dimmed, and the people before her eyes moved oddly slowly, giving off the impression of slow motion. May had a sensation of detachment, like she wasn’t taking part in these gruesome events, but was nothing more than a spectator. A part of her wished it could be true, but unfortunately that was not the case – Lavena, the kind, helpful witch, was dead.

May couldn’t move when Erik leaned over the witch and closed her eyes. She could only look, while he crossed Lavena’s arms on her chest and hastily wiped the blood off her pale face. May barely registered, when she felt someone put their hand on her shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Like in a daze, she turned and saw Leif, who smiled to her sadly.

                “She sacrificed her life to save all of us,” he said and stepped forward. He straightened his back and lifted his chin. With a solemn face, he clenched his right fist and hit his chest accurately over his heart in a military salute. Duke Thoen and over two hundred Farnian soldiers followed Leif’s lead, paying their respects to the fallen sorceress. Even a few Karhadonians joined, as well as the inhabitants of Orvik.

                However, a brief salute was all that they could do to show Lavena their gratitude, as there was no time for more. The soldiers barely performed the salute, when they were reaching for their weapons, as though forgetting about the death of their savior already. All eyes were set on the twin fire creatures; the two incredibly beautiful youths were standing among the miserable remains of Orvik’s haven district. The streaks of dark smoke floated over the conflagration. May understood that Aedain and Baltar failed in their mission to kill Zhawn’s minions; the witch’s sacrifice was in vain.

                “Stand back, Maewyn.” Leif shook May and dragged her away from Lavena, toward Duke Thoen and his elite fighters.

                May tore her eyes off the witch’s corpse, struggling to shake off the wave of grief and brutal realization, how fragile life was. She searched for Aedain and Baltar. The sinking feeling in her heart told her that she could expect to see more death. First thought that came to her mind was Hailey, and May's heart increased its speed. She thought that she got used to the sight of dead bodies, but it was completely different if it was someone she knew, not some nameless stranger. She couldn't imagine what she will feel if her sister...

                “Maewyn!” Leif’s voice was sounding as though he was calling her from a great distance, it was oddly muffled. Her gaze slid over the rumbles, the sharp edges of broken walls and roofs, the furniture mixed with bricks. Once she caught a glimpse of bright, shining steel, she sucked in her breath – she recognized Sholais, the less favorite of Aedain’s swords. Its blade reflected the run rays. When she saw a hand clutch Sholais’s handle, she sighed with relief – he was alive.

                Aedain used his sword for support, pulling himself up again and staggering forward; his gaze set on the fire creatures.

                “That bastard is still alive,” Leif commented, disbelief sounding in his voice. Erik nodded and craned his neck.

                 “Were’s Baltar?” he whispered worriedly; taking in the view of desolation.

                May shook her head, attempting to get rid of the numbness, to regain clear thinking. Lavena’s loss was a painful and an unexpected blow, but she couldn’t give in to shock and grief, not yet. She took a hasty breath and exhales slowly, focusing on her goal, the reason why she embarked on the journey to Orvik: Hailey.

                Suddenly, she heard the sound of her blood, being pumped by her heat at an erratic speed. The surge of adrenaline helped her to get rid of her numbness instantly, as anxiety invaded her brain. She was standing here like an idiot, while Hailey’s life was in danger! Lavena’s death quickly and painfully taught May a lesson – no one was safe in Orvik. The witch had died, and so could her little sister.

                “Leif, we need to save the people in the docks.” May whirled around to her friend, but Leif didn’t show much will to cooperate; he just stood there, staring at her, as though she was sprouting some nonsense. Sighing, May shoved him aside. “Nevermind.”

                Before Leif had time to stop her, she dashed out to his horse and jumped. Once her foot reached the stirrup, she pulled herself up and swung her leg over the steed’s back.

                “Hya!” she shouted, kicking the animal’s sides as hard as she could, while trying to find the reins and get a hold of them. The animal neighed and danced in place, before leaping into the gallop almost instantly.

                “Maewyn!” May heard Duke Thoen’s cry, but the whoosh of the wind quickly overpowered the voices of her friends, telling her to go back. She was squeezing the horse with her thighs firmly, afraid that she could fall off. The streets of Orvik resembled a mountain slope now, for they were littered with the debris. Her steed climbed on the hills of rumble and jumped off them. When it took an exceptionally long leap, May fell forward and smacked her face against its neck. It was miraculous that she stayed in the saddle. Frantically, she grabbed the reins and pulled them forcefully, directing the horse left, where a clearer path was. It was also where Aedain was standing.

                When he saw May riding toward him, he furrowed his brows and clenched his jaw, its muscle twitching.

                “Idiot woman, do not come here!” he yelled to her and moved to block her way. However, she spurred the horse forwards, not listening to him. She caught a glimpse of Aedain’s frowning face as she galloped past him, almost trampling him.

                She didn’t even grace Zhawn’s minions with a single look; she barely registered motionless Baltar, who was lying half-buried beneath the debris. She hurried her horse, her eyes set on the sea that was already near. The waters of Orvik Bay were barely visible, as countless ships were moored in the docks. Some of them already set their sails and left the haven, heading to the open sea. Their masts looked like a forest – May couldn’t tell exactly how many were there; hundreds, perhaps even more than a thousand.

                Sailors were working hastily, freeing the ships that were still weren’t on the move. They weren’t bothering with untying the knots – the ropes linking the ships with the wharf were simply cut. The hasty departure seemed to upraise chaos, for the sides of boats were banging against one another.

                May pulled the reins, making her steed stop abruptly. Foam was leaking from the animal’s mouth; its sides were covered with sweat. As she gazed upon the crowded haven, panic overwhelmed her. How was she supposed to know in which ship Hailey was held captive? What if her ship already sailed away?

                “Hailey,” May whispered, staring helplessly at the docks, unsure what to do. Even if she knew where her sister was held, she could do nothing on her own. The sailors were currently too busy to worry about a lone girl on the horse, but they were armed – if they saw her as a threat, they would kill her. Ignoring the common sense, May rode closer to the moored ships. She craned her neck and tried to discern any hint of Hailey, but the prisoners must have been cramped in the ships’ holds. Judging by the sheer size of the vessels, each could carry at least fifty people inside.

                “May I help you?” May turned around and saw a man, observing her with a certain dose of curiosity. He tilted his head and leant on an oblong casing. Seeming relaxed, he didn’t look as though he wanted to attack her. A quizzical smile played on his lips, contrasting with the dreadful disfigurement of his face. When May was looking at him, she thought that he could play a lead role in a horror movie. “You seem lost.”

                May flashed him a nervous smile, having hard time deciding if the stranger was a friend or foe.

                “I’m looking for my sister,” she said hesitantly, her gaze locked on the disfigured man.

                The stranger didn’t answer her; he kept looking at her warily, a spark of interest flickering in his golden eyes. Golden. May stiffened, realizing what it meant.

                “May, get away from him!” She heard Aedain’s voice. Instinctively, she turned her head to the source of sound and saw the demon sprinting toward her with Sholais in her hand.

                Instantly, she urged her steed to move, but the horse only neighed, trotting in place.

                “So you are a friend of Aedain?” the stranger asked her. May cursed, seeing that he was holding the reins of her horse, not letting her to gallop away. Not waiting for the situation to get even worse, she swung one of her legs over the saddle and jumped onto the ground. She didn’t look back when she dashed out straight to Aedain.

                As she was running toward him, she noticed more guests arriving at the docks – Duke Thoen and his army, along with Leif and Erik. However, the fire twins were proceeding them, chasing after Aedain. May slowed down, hesitant to head in their direction.

                “Run, stupid!” Aedain yelled at her and her legs suddenly felt lighter. When she was at his side, the demon elbowed her, forcing her to hide behind his back. May listened to him, nearly gluing herself to his body, eying the fire creatures with growing nervousness.

                “Are you unharmed?” Aedian asked quickly, glancing at her over his shoulder. May nodded and muttered a positive reply, so he went back to glare at the disfigured stranger. He crouched slightly, as though he was readying himself to leap and attack the man.

                “How come you’re still alive, Aedain?” the stranger posed a question, addressing it not to the dragon prince, but to his minions. The fire twins stopped about ten feet from Aedain and May; they looked away like scolded children.

                “Maybe if you want to get the work done, you should do it yourself, Zhawn,” Aedain suggested.

                May stiffened. Did she hear right? Zhawn? Dear god, she had chatted with Zhawn!

                She peeked from behind Aedain’s back to see the legendary enemy – Zhawn’s smile stayed on his lips; he made no move to attack. May found it unsettling that he acted so carefree, confident.

                “Don’t taunt me,” Zhawn told Aedain. “I know you would like to fight me instead of my charming associates, but that’s not happening.”

                Smirking, he lifted his hand and gestured for the fire duo to get to the situation at hand.

                May heard Aedain sighing, betraying his resignation.

                “Woman,” he said quietly. “At my sign, you will run to the humans as fast as you can. Do you understand?”

                “Yes,” she breathed out, staring at the two red-haired youths. Both began walking toward her and Aedain. With each second, the threat was crouching closer.

                Without any warning, the twins dashed forward, moving so quickly that they became nothing but blurred shaped. May yelped and staggered back, bumping into Aedain. The demon whirled around, shielding her from the fire creatures, but at the same time exposing her to Zhawn. The red-haired youths were only a foot from Aedain, when a characteristic whizz resounded. May glanced when she saw the motion. One of the twins stopped abruptly, surprise reflecting on his face and stumbled. He looked down and so did May – his left foot was pinned to the ground by an arrow. He turned into fire, but the fragment touched by the arrow stayed on the place. Once the red-haired youth returned to the human-like form, he had a gush in his foot; it looked just like Nesrin’s injuries when she lost to May.

                Aedain pushed her back, when the whizzing sound cut the silence once more. Another arrow sailed through the air, striking the other twin precisely in his eye. The fire creature let out an animalistic howl and clutched his face, desperately struggling to tear the arrow out of his flesh. When it landed on the paving, the youth’s face wasn’t so perfect anymore – a hole was in place of one of his eyeballs.

                The twins looked shocked that someone managed to damage them. They looked around in confusion. Split second before a dark shape crashed into them, descending from the skies. The familiar black, leathery wings spread, sprinkling the fire duo with salty water. May blinked, startled to see an old acquaintance here.

                A horse-like beast, dark as the night itself, neighed and swished its tail which looked like a whip.

                “Meirch,” Aedain muttered, equally shocked to see his steed here.

                Even more surprising was that Meirch carried a rider. The newcomer was clad in thick woolen clothes, suitable for a harsh winter, not the late spring. The fabric seemed to be soaked in water, much like Meirch’s fur. May caught a glimpse of armor beneath the woolen rags.

                Both Zhawn and Aedain were scanning the stranger up and down; they were clearly unable to tell who that was, for a light black helmet was covering the rider’s head, hiding his face from the onlookers. Not even his eyes could be discerned through the narrow visor.

                “Don’t think you can defeat us,” the twins hissed in a unison, their voices sounding like crackling of flames. Their hateful eyes were set on the stranger. The crimson irises seemed to burn with murder lust. Zhawn’s minions shed their human-like skin, revealing their true selves. Fire consumed their bodies and, once they became two flames they leaped onto their new opponent.

                Although the situation looked poor for the person wrapped in the rags, he didn’t panic. Instead, he quickly wrapped the soaked fabric around his hands and clenched his fists. Just before the twins were about to sweep him off Meirch, he jumped off the demonic steed and rolled off sideways. The fire creatures, turned around to pursue him, but the stranger dashed out to meet them. He didn’t use any elaborate strategy – his knuckles brutally collided with the jaw of one of the twins. The creature wailed, staggering back. Steam erupted from the newcomer’s fist; he whirled around and a moment later his elbow landed where the face of another twin was.

                Thickening clouds of steam obscured the view. May could only see undefined movement and the orange glow of the twins’ bodies. She gasped, when one of the adversaries was sent flying out of the steamy battlefield, straight into the bay. He crashed into one of the ships. An agonizing shriek rang in May’s ears, as it mixed with the hissing noise that sounded as though someone was extinguishing a campfire. The wooden planting of the ship caught fire instantly; soon enough the flames overtook the sail and sparks spread to the neighboring vessels. The sailors jumped into the water, but not everyone could save themselves – when the fire reached the deck, a choir of pained screams make May’s heart falter. The prisoners were dying.

                “My sister.” She breathed out, realizing that Hailey might have been on that ship. She didn’t think; she rushed toward the ships, but Aedain blocked her way with his hand. May wanted to duck and run past him, controlled by her fear for Hailey’s safety. However, the demon put his right hand around her, before she knew what was happening. She gasped, when her back slammed against Aedain’s chest, as he secured his grip on her. Quickly, he lowered his arm, so that his hand would be positioned on her stomach instead of her bosom. Angered by his behavior, May craned her neck, glaring at the demon.

                He gave her a warning look.

                “Zhawn,” he hissed out, pointing to the disfigured demon; Zhawn’s frown deepened when he saw the demise of one of his minions. He grimaced even more when the person, who took one of the twins out, emerged out of the steam.

                The rags that covered the armor were scorching, so the stranger quickly tore them off. The armor underneath the woolen clothing was of a Laismaran design. The metal plates were resembling scales; some of them were decorated with purple enamel patterns. The stranger whistled, and Aedain’s horse trotted obediently.

                “I cannot believe it,” Aedain commented, glaring at Meich. When the beast ran to the man in the armor, May saw that he had some bags tied to the saddle. The stranger reached for one of them and pulled, breaking the leather strap securing it. Meirch retreated in time to escape the remaining fire twin, as he jumped out of the dissolving steam. He lounged forward, straight for his opponent, but when it seemed that he was about to attack, he made a feint. He circled the armored man and stuck from the side.

                However, he wasn’t prepared for what the stranger had in store for him. He reached for the bag and aimed an extraordinary weapon at him – the item looked like a blacksmith’s mellow. Nevertheless, when the stranger pressed it, it turned out that it was filled not with the air, but water. A stream of salty liquid spurted precisely in the creature’s face. An unpleasant gurgling sound became suppressed by the hissing of extinguished flames. The twin’s head was dissolving in the thick steam.

                In his agony, Zhawn’s minion dashed out, blindly flailing his arms toward his opponent. Even though the moves of the headless monster were frantic and uncoordinated, he got lucky. His flaming hand managed to touch the armored man and landed on his helmet. The twin’s fingers clenched; the metal warmed up, turning red from the heat. The man underneath it grunted from the pain, but didn’t lose his cool. He reached for a goatskin at his hip and ripping the cork off, spilled its contents on the fire monster’s torso.  The burning creature shrieked and let go off the helmet. The stranger lifted his leg and aimed a powerful kick exactly in the place, where the water hit a second ago. His metal-clad foot didn’t go through the fire – it sent the headless twin flying across the docks.

                The fire creature headed straight for Zhawn. The demon had to jump sideways to avoid being swept off his feet with his own minion. He didn’t look over his shoulder when the twin fell into the water, sharing the fate of his brother. The steam rising over the Orvik Bay, was all that was left from Zhawn’s unbeatable fire warriors. Zhawn cautiously took a step back, malevolently eying the armored warrior; his fingers wandered to the lock of the casing.

                Meanwhile, the triumphant stranger struggled with the heated helmet. The red glow on its side was slowly subsiding, but surely it was incredibly hot. The hands clad in metal gloves clumsily pulled the head protection off. May craned her neck, dying to see the face of the person who killed the twins so easily. Once the helmet was off, the warrior tossed it aside quickly and lowered the hands. Black hair scattered around the pale face; golden eyes looked first at Aedain, then at Zhawn, betraying no emotion whatsoever. The left cheek was marred, the burn blemishing the otherwise flawless face. The nose was small, the cheekbones defined; the face features regular and delicate. Dark eyelashes beneath the evenly-cut fringe were long. May stared at the person – this was the face of a young woman.

                Zhawn assumed a defensive stance, as though he was waiting for the female demon to attack him. However, she made no move to harm neither of the dragons; she stalked to Meirch and jumped lightly on its saddle.

                “Who the hell are you?” Zhawn hissed out. Aedain clenched his teeth – May knew he wanted to ask that question too.

                The armored woman stared him down, showing the fearsome demon absolutely no anxiety or respect. The corner of her mouth wandered upwards in a crooked humorless smile. It was clear that she had no intention of answering Zhawn’s question.

                “Feel free to duel, dragons. Your fight will be fair now,” she said to Zhawn and Aedain, her voice was dry and unsympathetic. Meirch neighed when she dug her iron-clad heels in his sides. It looked at Aedain as though it was silently apologizing his master for the betrayal. It leapt into the sky, carrying the Laismaran woman on his back toward the northern wilderness.

The Dragonslayer’s Spear

                May looked at Meirch, until the demonic horse became a tiny dot in the sky and finally disappeared.

                “That wench stole my steed,” Aedain hissed when the armored woman departed, leaving them alone with Zhawn and, of course, a whole army of Farn. The troops of Duke Thoen were standing in a safe distance from the battleground. However, as soon as the fire duo had been vanquished, they began inching closer.

                Zhawn straightened his back; the aura surrounding him changed. He was no longer relaxed, but he didn’t show any uncertainty either. He locked his dead-serious gaze on Aedain and brushed his hand over the oblong wooden casing, until his fingers rested on the lock.

                “Woman, get back to the humans,” Aedain whispered when Zhawn popped the lock open. The prince released May from his grip and gave her a push, ushering her to leave his side.

                May didn’t even waste time on giving Aedain a proper answer; instead, she darted toward Duke Thoen as fast as her legs could carry her. She had no intention of being caught in the fight between two powerful demons. She clenched her teeth and pushed her body to its limit; she was pretty sure that she could get at least a bronze medal for her sprint.

                “Hurry, Maewyn!” Duke Thoen called to her, reaching out with his hand to her. Leif and Erik were hurrying her with gestures as well. However, none of their friends approached Zhawn, even though they were worried for her.

                May managed to make it to the army. Duke Thoen slid off the saddle and, together with Leif he walked over to her. His face was stern; the thick brows furrowed.

                “Don’t run away like that ever again, Maewyn!” he reprimanded her, but his eyes weren’t focused on her; Thoen was staring at Zhawn the whole time. He embraced May and dragged her back, as though several feet more between her and the legendary adversary would make a difference. Lowering his voice, the Duke said: “I have never thought that I will live to see such a grim day.”

                May spun around to stare at the confrontation between the dragons. Both were simply standing motionlessly; their gazes locked as though they were dueling gunmen. Zhawn still didn’t open the box where the Dragonslayer’s Spear was resting – it seemed that he savored the moment before the inevitable.

                Leif stepped forward, positioning himself between Zhawn and the Farn’s ruler. Slowly, he drew a sword he must have obtained recently. His face reflected dismay though.

                “Even the sharpest blade is nothing compared to the Spear,” Duke Thoen whispered to no one in particular. “If Zhawn unleashes the Spear’s power, we will perish, much like the rest of the Empire.”

                Leif smiled humorlessly.

                “At least we have the best view,” he said.

                May froze as the full extent of her misery began unveiling before her very eyes – her sister imprisoned on one of the slave ships, Lavena’s death, the massacre in Orvik and now this. Zhawn would eradicate all of them with the legendary alien artifact. Was there no end to this madness?

                “May!” May looked down to see Erik crouching toward her. The boy was hiding behind Duke Thoen, awkwardly holding the pole of the dirt-caked spear. It seemed to her, as though he was holding the weapon in such a way so that the Duke’s body would shield it from Zhawn’s eyes. Erik’s eyes darted sideways as he waved to her, urging her to come closer. “May, I really need to tell you something.”

                May truly wanted finally to hear what Erik wanted to say, but in this moment, Zhawn opened the wooden casing and closed his fingers around the Spear. Its pole was wrapped in an expensive-looking material, presumably silk. Aedain visibly paled when his adversary pointed the tip of the weapon at him, smirking.

                “How quaint, it looks like I will be the next dragonslayer.” Zhawn laughed. The dragon prince’s reaction seemed to amuse him even more; he began cackling out loud as Aedain assumed a battle stance. Droplets of sweat developed on the young demon’s forehead. Perhaps if not for his composure, his hands would have shaken. Zhawn stopped laughing, but the wide self-satisfied grin on his lips remained. “Let’s put the Spear to test, shall we?”

                With those words he leapt forward, charging on Aedain. The black silk unwrapped, revealing the pole in its entire glory, just before the razor-sharp spear's head sped straight for the prince’s heart. Aedain swiftly lifted Sholais, swinging the blade to block the legendary weapon. However, the uncertain look on his face betrayed that he didn’t actually believe that it was possible to stop Zhawn now. Everyone held their breaths, when the edge of his sword touched the spear.

                And cut through it effortlessly.

                Perhaps if the situation wasn’t so dire, a collective gasp from hundreds of soldiers and civilians observing the duel would be comedic. Like everyone else, May couldn’t believe what just happened – Sholais cut the Dragonslayer’s Spear like a knife sliced through butter. The spear head fell to the side and rolled on the paving. Only thanks to his quick reflex and years of fighting experience, Zhawn managed to jump back, maintaining a safe distance between himself and his opponent. He stared at the now useless pole in disbelief. Aedain’s eyes followed the mutilated spear head, same shock reflecting on his face.

                “What…” Zhawn muttered, glancing at the Spear. His golden eyes widened as though sudden realization hit him. Hastily, he tore the remaining silk cloth off the pole, exposing the fine dark-brown  wood. May, as the person who actually saw the real thing before, came to the same conclusion as Zhawn. The disfigured demon crushed the pole in his hand. “It’s fake!”

                “Fake?” Leif looked at May and the Duke. The young Farnian wrinkled his forehead, expressing his confusion. “Where is the real one?”

                Erik’s gaze was persistently set on May; he sighed ostentatiously, expressing his frustration.

                “May, I-” he began, but he got cut off by her again.

                “I’m just as lost as you are. I thought Zhawn had the Spear,” May said to Leif, ignoring Erik.

                Leif scratched his thin fair beard, deep in thought.

                “Apparently not. Perhaps someone took it from him,” Leif suggested.

                Erik’s face turned red. The boy balled his hand in a fist and clenched the pole of the spear so forcefully that his knuckles turned white. It appeared as though he felt the urge to whack both May and Leif with the weapon, he was holding. Before anyone could interrupt again, he said what he should have already.

                “I have it!”

                The absolute silence that fell after he said it, made Erik realize that he had spoken much louder than he should have. He stooped when all eyes turned to staring at him. May tilted her head and her jaw went slack as she looked carefully at the weapon, the boy was holding. In the middle of the commotion and because of all the dramatic events, she didn’t even bother to give that spear a second look. The pole was covered in dirt and dried blood. Frankly, it looked as though someone purposely rolled it in a gutter. However, from under the thick layer of filth, the mesmerizing black pole was visible. It was impossible to confuse with anything else – May had never seen anything so dark in her entire life. Erik was holding the Dragonslayer’s Spear. Her gaze traveled from the legendary artifact sideways, to Zhawn and Aedain. Both demons were staring at the weapon with possessive gleams in their eyes. Crap, they know, May thought.

                “Erik!” She scolded the boy. Erik glanced at the demons as well; the gravity of his mistake began soaking in.

                Suddenly, the boy learnt how it felt to be like a mouse in a snakes’ den. All at once, everyone leapt at him, wanting to be the first to capture the Dragonslayer’s Spear. Aedain threw Sholais out, as though his precious family heirloom was a piece of junk, and thew himself at Erik. Zhawn lashed out too. May lost the race with Leif, who was the first to snatch the Spear. He pushed the little boy aside, and Erik fell onto his backside. However, split second after Leif secured the grip on the legendary weapon, he wasn’t the only one holding the pole.

                The Farnian looked up and met the extremely hostile gaze of golden eyes. If looks could kill, Aedain would strike Leif down with a mere glance; his irises seemed to be filled with fire.

                “Give me the Spear,” he hissed and pulled the pole. The demon’s strength was on a completely different level than the human’s – Aedain nearly tore Leif’s arms out of his torso. However, he refused to let go. Snarling, the dragon prince delivered a well-aimed kick in his stomach. Leif bent in half, coughing. His fingers flexed, letting go off the Spear and thus making Aedain the winner. Zhawn stopped and backed off, obviously knowing that he wouldn’t be able to take the Spear away from its current holder.

                “Leif!” May cried her friend’s name and ran to his side. He keeled down and helped him pull himself into a sitting position. Smiling weakly at her, he pressed his hand against his stomach.

                “I’m alright, Maewyn,” he choked out, barely speaking. May bit her lower lip, pained to see her friend in such a state. How could Aedain do this? She looked up, with intention to give the damn demon a piece of her mind, but when she laid her eyes on him, the self-preservation instinct prevailed.

                Now that he got in his hands the weapon, he had always desired, Aedain’s confidence sky rocketed. He straightened his back, assuming a king-like stance and gave his opponent a mocking smirk. He lifted his chin cockily. Somehow, May was under the impression that he looked much more villainous than Zhawn. Striding pridefully, he approached his enemy, not in a hurry.

                “How does it feel, Zhawn? To become a prey instead of a hunter?” he asked, his voice calm and confident to the point of arrogance. After he inspected the Spear, Aedain glanced over his shoulder at the crowd of humans gathered behind his back. His smirk grew into a malevolent, terrifying grin. “Defeating you would be a fitting way to begin my glorious mission to lead all Laismarans to freedom and prosperity.”

                May had a twisting feeling in her stomach – she had nothing against getting rid of Zhawn, as he was clearly evil. However, leaving the Spear in Aedain’s possession was a catastrophe waiting to happen.

                “I always wondered how magnificent is the power of the Dragonslayer’s Spear,” Aedain said, holding the pole carefully, like it could explode if handled without caution. “Watch well, Zhawn. You will have a unique opportunity to witness the force unseen since the Battle at An Thalain.”

                With an arrogant smile on his lips, Aedain swung the pole. When the Spear didn’t display its destructive properties, he went on with a direct assault on his opponent. Using the weapon like a sword, he struck Zhawn from above. The older demon shielded his head with his arm in a meager attempt to block the attack. Surprisingly, the Spear stopped on his forearm, surely bruising it painfully, but not inflicting any serious damage. Aedain jumped back, but he hasn't given up just yet – not giving Zhawn time to recover; he lunged forward with the intention to thrust the Spear into his adversary’s gut. Zhawn barely managed to perform an agile dodge. Nevertheless, the spearhead grazed his side, drawing the first blood.

                Aedain took a few steps back, the arrogant expression fading away from his face, making place to confusion. He aimed the Spear at Zhawn once again and narrowed his eyes at him, clearly focusing. He swung the weapon at him, but nothing happened. The legendary weapon of the Dragonslayer turned out to be a mere hoax.

                “Useless junk,” Aedain hissed, a grimace of frustration and disappointment distorting his handsome face. He tossed the Spear aside like an unwanted toy. He briefly gazed at his sword Sholais, which laid on the paving. He walked over to it. However, he didn’t pick it up; instead, he kicked it away with his boot. Zhawn was observing his actions with curiosity.

                “No fake spears, no weapons. Just fangs and talons, like in the old days,” Aedain said.

                Zhawn smiled without a shadow of mockery; he nodded.

                “Fine by me,” he replied.

                Suddenly, strong wind swirled around the both demons. The whites of their eyes changed their color to golden, just like their irises. The pupils became vertical. Accompanied by the nauseating sound of the bones cracking, Aedain and Zhawn assumed the forms they were born in. The wind subsided once the transformation was complete.

                Two magnificent, yet terrifying dragons faced each other. Their long talons grazed the paving of the docks’ street. There was barely enough space for their massive bodies to fit between the remains of the buildings. Aedain’s crimson tail swished before he crouched, preparing to leap. May’s eyes widened as the incredibly strong muscles moved under the scale-covered skin. The ground trembled when the two beasts jumped, taking off. The dragons, the crimson one and the bigger, gray one, hovered higher to the skies. They were encircling one another. Once they were far from the onlookers, they dove, slashing each other with their talons that were sharp like swords.

                While the beasts were battling beneath the clouds, the fire that engulfed one of the cargo ships spread. The flames were transferred from one sail to another and soon enough the fire overtook another two vessels. It quickly made its way down the masts toward the decks.

                “Hailey!” May uttered her sister’s name with horror reflecting on her face – Hailey could be on any of these ships. Having been able to think about nothing but her sister, she took off to the ships. However, she felt a strong grip on her arm, and then someone pulled her back, preventing her for running away. She spun around, wanting to berate whoever stopped her, but it was Duke Thoen, who refused to let her go.

                “I will not let you run away recklessly again, my child,” he said to her sternly, the solemn look on his face confirming that he was dead serious. Nevertheless, May tried to yank her arm out of his grasp. The Duke, however, didn’t let her break free.

                Panicked, she glanced at the burning ships before turning to Thoen.

                “Listen, I… we have to save those people! Please,” she pleaded desperately. Tears of helplessness gathered in the corners of her eyes, as she clutched the front of the Duke’s armor. “There’s someone important aboard one of these ships!"

                Thoen smiled faintly.

                “Maewyn, we can’t-“ he began, but May interrupted him – she wasn’t ready to give up on her sister. She closed the distance between her and the Duke. Her green eyes were staring into his intently.

                “How would you feel if I died? Am I precious to you?” she kept questioning Thoen, perfectly knowing the answer. “Those ships are filled with innocent people, kidnapped by Zhawn. All of them are precious to someone, just like I am to you. Are you going to leave them to die? A just, honorable man would save them. My father would save them.”

                Duke Thoen stiffened, but he didn’t dare to break the eye contact with May. She could tell, he felt the gazes of his soldiers resting upon him, pressuring him to give the answer. The pressure on her arm disappeared, as his arm fell to his side. Reluctantly, he glanced at the burning vessels before he turned around to face his army.

                “Men of Farn!” he called. “Retrieve the prisoners from the ship’s holds. Capture as many vessels as you can.”

The mounted troops rode forward, heading to the moored ships. The sound of hooves beating against the docks’ paving seemed to be the most beautiful melody at the moment for May. A ghost of a smile appeared on her lips when Hailey’s chances to survive increased slightly.

                The Duke lifted his hand and gestured for her to come closer.

                “That precious person of yours, who is it?” he murmured. May’s eyes sparkled, as a sudden surge of hope filled her heart.

                “A fourteen-year-old girl, blonde, blue eyes. Her name is Hailey.” She recited quickly.

                Duke Thoen nodded, acknowledging the description. He whistled, and one of his subordinates led a horse to him. He grabbed the reins with one hand and put the other one on the saddle. Before mounting, he looked at May.

                “I will look for that person, Maewyn,” he said. “But in return, promise me you’ll stay here, away from those ships.”

                May looked at her feet, suddenly finding her unbelievably dirty sneakers interesting.

                “Maewyn, I am waiting,” the Duke said, obviously knowing she didn’t want to do what he asked her. Finally, she looked him in the eye.

                “I want to help,” she said sincerely; she couldn’t wait in safety when Hailey could be in grave danger. However, Thoen was unwavering.

                “Child, you will get in the way,” he explained. “If you are around, the soldiers won’t be able to focus on saving people, because they will be worried about the safety of their Lady.”

                May sighed, understanding the Duke’s point. Her mind told her he was right, but her heart wanted to ride out to rescue her sister. Nonetheless, in the end, she decided to listen to the voice of reason.

                “I promise,” she said. Having heard her reply, Thoen put his foot in the stirrup and pulled himself onto the horse. He urged his steed forward and galloped along with his soldiers to oversee the rescue mission.

                May felt like a coward – all she could do was watch. Farn’s troops spread alongside the Karhadonian haven. She could see a glint of swords, as the soldiers were overpowering the sailors and embarking the ships. However, most of the Farnians were only riding along the coastline, helplessly staring at the vessels that were too far to reach. May couldn’t take the tension, the constant wondering where Hailey was. She turned her back to the sea and faced the Farn’s infantry. A couple of units were marching to reinforce Duke Thoen and the cavalry, while most were guarding the Karhadonian prisoners – both soldiers and civilians. Only a small group of finest warriors was left to watch over May’s safety, and they guarded her like her mother looked after her dad’s money.

                “Who is the highest ranking officer here?” She heard some man asking.

                “Me, captain Leif of the Agnar family,” Leif answered him.

                May whirled around and saw her friend scrambling himself off the ground and dismissing the other warrior’s salute.

                “What’s the problem?” Leif asked, readjusting the sword at his hip.

                “Captain, it’s about the demon there,” the soldier mumbled, pointing at the pile of debris behind Leif’s back. “He keeps yelling to help him free himself.”

                May exchanged glances with Erik.

                “Is he talking about Baltar?” the boy asked.

                Leif gestured to the soldier to get off his horse and intercepted the steed. May looked hesitantly toward the sea – she wished to help Hailey somehow, but at the same time knew that it was best to leave it to the Duke’s men. Then again, having another dragon join the fight with Zhawn, could aid free the prisoners and find her sister. Set on being more useful, she took Erik’s hand and jogged to the young captain.

                “Wait, we’re coming with you!” she called, and helped Erik climb in front of Leif. She reached out and stared at her friend expectantly. Sighing and rolling his eyes, he surrendered and grabbed her hand. He pulled her and soon enough she was sitting behind him, embracing his waist. Erik raised his eyebrow and smirked smugly when he noticed the Farnian’s cheeks turn pink.

                With the passengers, Leif galloped down the way leading away from the sea, toward the Red Castle. A whole unit of best soldiers followed him, as they were ordered to watch over the Lady’s safety. He didn’t have to ride far, as Baltar rested just outside the docks, pressed under the huge pile of debris.

                Much to everyone’s surprise, he was alive and conscious. He was shifting under tons of stone, bricks and wood, arduously trying to dig himself out of the rummage where he was trapped. His whole body was bathed in blood, bruises and cuts all over his body, but he didn’t mind his injuries. With an almost maniacal persistence, he kept removing one brick after another, clumsily shoving them aside. His legs and hips were still buried beneath debris.

                “Let’s help him,” May said quietly. Leif nodded and stopped the steed. He swung one leg over its back and jumped off. He turned around and reached out with his hands, to help May down, but she was already on the ground, speeding toward Baltar.

                Leif sighed heavily when he saw her back again.

                “She’s quite a handful, isn’t she?” asked the leader of the unit that accompanied them; Leif didn’t know his name or rank.

                “She is.” Leif agreed. “Let’s free the demon.”

                When May reached Baltar, the demon didn’t look at her, as though he didn’t even notice her presence. He kept fighting to free himself, from time to time glancing at the sky, where two dragons were circling each other, their teeth and fangs clashing in a battle to death. May quickly grabbed one of the piling bricks and tossed it away, clenching her teeth from the strain as it was considerably heavy. Right away, she reached for the next one, trying not to be bothered by the fact that there were still dozens of them resting atop of Baltar’s lower body. Dismayed, she looked over her shoulders at the Farnians and Erik.

                “Don’t stand there like morons, help me!” she shouted, tugging at a massive, wooden beam which probably used to support a roof. She clenched her teeth and pulled, but it didn’t budge even though she used all of her strength. However, when she gave it a second try, the beam rocked and started moving. May looked back and saw everyone helping her – Leif, the soldiers and even Erik were giving all they got. When the beam fell off the rummage, the space around Baltar swarmed like a bee hive. The soldiers were handling the heavier objects, while May and Erik were taking care of the smaller ones, like bricks or roof tiles.

                “Hurry up, humans!” Baltar nagged them, his eyes set on Aedain, who was struggling to overcome Zhawn.

                Aedain dove nimbly, barely avoiding Zhawn’s talons that were about to slash his wings – the weak point of every dragon. Making a sudden turn, he performed a loop. Before Zhawn knew what was happening, Aedain was already above him, aiming at him with his claws. He fell on his adversary like a hawk on his prey, but Zhawn was no novice. He flipped to his side and let talons of the younger dragon graze against his hard scales. The sparks flew from under the claws, and an unpleasant stench of burnt claws filled the air.

                The prince looped once again, but this time Zhawn completely anticipated the attack and dodged it easily. When it was his time to begin the offensive, Aedain found himself in quite a predicament. Even though he was confident in his skills, it took all of his speed, strength and training to overcome Zhawn.

                The older dragon attacked relentlessly, altering his assaults so that his opponent would not be able to tell what was going to come next. He flew straight at Aedain, only to turn the last moment and fall on the unsuspecting adversary from above. However, then it became clear that this move was a feint as well, and the younger dragon found himself barely escaping the sneak attack from the side. Zhawn managed to tear a hole in one of his wings, targeting his speed and maneuverability. With the air freely surging through the rip in the leathery membrane, Aedain had to make up for the worse balance by desperately waving with his tail like a fool.

                Aedain realized that he underestimated his enemy once again. Perhaps he had the advantage of youth and sheer strength, but that was nothing compared to Zhawn’s technique and his battle experience. While he was struggling, the older dragon fought casually, as though he could perform each of the complicated maneuvers with his eyes closed. It occurred to the prince that back in his days, Zhawn must have had many opportunities to practice dragon on dragon combat, either with King Kaellach or any other of their clan. Aedain sparred only with Baltar and was not used to any different fighting style.

                When he spotted the movement with the corner of his eye, the prince breathed fire, wanting to burn or at least repel Zhawn. Afterward, the gray dragon circled him like a vulture waiting for its prey to die. Each time he was in sight, Aedain sent a surge of flames in his direction, knowing that sooner or later, his adversary would tire down and get hit by the fire.

                However, when his throat went dry and nothing more than a strangled cough and a miserable stream of smoke came out, he found who would be the first to get exhausted. Once he was out of fire, Zhawn’s assault became serious. He vanished in the clouds. Aedain flew in a circle, warily observing his surroundings, waiting for his opponent to attack him.

                Suddenly, the gray dragon darted from the clouds, quick as an arrow. Aedain’s golden eyes widened, when a powerful wave of flames was sent toward him. Erratically, he dove. Flying in a zig-zags, he avoided the brief spits of fire, Zhawn was gracing him with. The scales on his tail were scorched, and the unbearable heat made him lose his senses. In this moment, he could do nothing but flee like a scared child – it seemed that Aedain tried every strategy, but his creativeness simply was not enough.

                The blue waters of Orvik’s Bay sparkled beneath him, as Zhawn was chasing him toward the city. When he lowered the flight, Aedain could perfectly see and hear what was happening all around him – the human soldiers were struggling to free the people cramped in the cargo holds of the numerous ships. Some of the vessels were already overtaken by the Duke’s men, but many more escaped into the open sea.

                A deafening roar echoed throughout the haven, when Zhawn picked up the speed and targeted the dragon prince from the side. Aedain performed an evasive maneuver, but he knew that avoiding the next assault would be a miracle: his opponent quickly sailed upwards and dove, releasing his flames.

                Aedain batted his wings as fast as he could, eager to save his skin. He craned his neck to watch approaching Zhawn and returned to looking where he was going. As he saw the forest of masts and the countless sails ahead, he froze. If he darted sideways now, the ships would catch fire. Given how close to each other they were, the flames would spread in no time, consuming the slaves trapped inside the cargo holds.       He shook his head – why would he care about the worthless lives of some humans, while his own was in danger? After all, he planned to eradicate those pests himself.

                When he was about to turn right, he remembered May’s face and the unwavering determination burning in her green eyes. What would she say knowing that he purposely let her sibling die the most painful way imaginable? The heat of Zhawn’s flame reached his body, the stench of fried scales invading Aedain’s nostrils. The fire swallowed his tail, and the excruciating sensation of being burned alive made him squirm in suffering. This was the last moment to escape the torture.

                The crimson dragon slowed down and flipped onto his back. He let the fire engulf him, shielding the humans below.

The Duel

                “Can’t we somehow lift it?” May asked, looking at an enormous boulder, which was trapping one of Baltar’s legs.

                She and the Farnians did her best to free the bald demon, removing all the bricks, fragments of walls, wooden beams and fragments of furniture. Baltar was almost dug out from under the rumble; only his right leg remained pressed by what appeared to be a crippled monument. The piece of stone was of a size of a small house and must have weighed tons.

                Leif sighed heavily, patting the boulder.

                “Even if we use a lever, this rock won’t budge. Our human strength is just not enough,” he said, avoiding the persistent glare of the trapped demon. “We have to wait for Aedain.”

                “We can’t wait for him!” Baltar protested, sitting up. He grabbed his right knee and pulled forcefully, but it seemed that he would rather tear his limb off than free it from under the fallen monument. He tried once again; and once again, he failed. Letting out a frustrated groan, he laid back, making his broken bones chatter. He set his unyielding gaze on Leif. “You stupid humans don’t understand a thing. Back in the old days, Zhawn was one of our clan’s best fighters, just as good as King Kaellach and much more dangerous. While fighting, he uses his brains. Aedain will snap my neck if he hears I told you this, but he won’t win. With that recklessness of his, he’ll be dead if I don’t help him!”

                When he saw that the humans didn’t respond to his speech in any other way than staring at him, he rolled his eyes and yelled:

                “Move the damn rock!”

                Baltar’s call was accented with a flash of orange light from the west. May, like all the people gathered on the site, turned her head to see what it was. A dreadfully huge blast of fire erupted from under the clouds, heading straight to a large group of ships. It appeared as though nothing would stop the slave vessels from having been turned to ashes. May froze, one word echoing through her mind: “Hailey."

                When the inevitable was about to transpire before her very eyes, the bright flame stopped in its tracks, like it clashed against something else. The blinding flash of light made May squint, but she didn’t dare to look away. The fire engulfed a large silhouette and as the flaming shape approached the coast, she recognized what it was.

                “It’s Aedain,” Erik whispered. The dragon lowered his flight, falling. His wings cut a couple of masts in half, before he smashed into the shore, destroying a good portion of the docks. From her spot, May could only see dark smoke floating above the site where he crash landed.

                “He saved the ships,” May realized, barely believing it actually happened. A wave of relief engulfed her.

                 “Foolish boy,” Baltar muttered, his golden eyes wide-opened from the shock. He stared at the nearby haven, just as bewildered as the humans. Suddenly, he shook off the initial confusion and sat up. “Hey, Less,”

                “It’s Leif,” the Farnian corrected him, giving the demon a disapproving look.

                “Give me your sword!” Baltar demanded.

                “What do you need my sword for?” Leif asked, raising his eyebrow. The demon growled at him, extending his hand in a hurrying gesture.

                “Just do it!” Baltar yelled.

                Without asking any more questions, Leif drew his blade and passed it to the demon, handle first. Baltar snatched the sword impatiently and clenched his teeth, intently staring at his leg.

                “This time I’ll protect him,” he hissed and swung Leif’s sword at his leg. May had an impression that all was happening in slow motion; the blade fell on Baltar’s limb right under his knee and sliced into the flesh without any resistance. When it met the bone, it creaked, but cut it as well. It stopped on the rock surface, grazing the stone. A pained hiss escaped Baltar’s lips, but the fire of determination that burned in his eyes raged on.

                May let out a strangled cry, covering her mouth with her hands. Erik wanted to dash out and stop Baltar, but Leif took a hold of him and dragged the protesting boy aside. The Farnians looked away, making no move to stop the demon.

                Baltar pulled, tearing the blade out of his leg. The blood spurted upwards, but the demon didn’t seem to mind it. He tossed the sword aside and got a hold of his leg, grabbing it above the wound. He took a deep ragged breath before he pulled the limb. May felt a wave of nausea wash over her, as she saw that the shin was still linked to the knee by some veins, tendons and a wide strap of skin. However, when Baltar pulled, they began like weak strings. As soon as the last scrap of flesh gave up, severing the leg, the demon was free. He flipped onto his stomach and crawled away from the remains of his limb.

                With his eyes set on the docks, where Aedain was, Baltar began changing. His bones cracked and reformed; the skin hardened, covered by gray scales. He yelled from the torturous pain, as his whole body shed its previous form, assuming its natural shape. A dragon arose from the rummage and flapping his leathery wings, took off, leaving a trail of blood behind.

                “She’s running away again!” one of the Farnian soldiers yelled, pointing his fingers at May, who hijacked another horse and followed the trail of Baltar’s blood to the docks. The Duke’s men were shouting to her to go back; Leif was calling her name and the roar of the clashing beasts above was deafening. However, every one of these sounds went dim in comparison to the erratic pounding of her heart, as her worry for Hailey spiked. May knew that what she was doing was terribly stupid, but she needed to see how the evacuation was going. She couldn’t ignore the fear for her sister anymore; she let go off the reason and allowed her heart to guide her.

                Just as she rode onto the small plaza in the docks, her horse neighed, eying the dragons with panic. May pulled the reins harshly, trying to keep the animal in check, but she no longer had any control over the scared steed. It flushed and when it felt her still ushering it to move forward, prancing it until she got thrown off the saddle. May hit the paving with her side, shielding her head. She rolled over a couple of times and got up; her knees were buckling, the whole body aching, and she was genuinely surprised that she didn’t break any bone. Massaging the sore arm, May lifted her head to gaze upon the battle site.

                There was a considerably large dent in the wharf where Aedain had crashed. The dragon prince lay in the water-filled hole, shifting, but clearly unable to move. His wings and the scales on his back looked battered. However, when May caught a glimpse of his chest, stomach and head, she stiffened. The scales were scorched; they lost their crimson color, turning black, twisted and shrank like burnt plastic. The skin underneath them was in plain sight now, bulging with blisters. Clumsily, Aedain attempted to crawl from the hole, but his injured limbs were barely moving.

                Having seen his opponent crippled and weak, Zhawn decided to finish him off. He made a graceful loop in the air, gaining momentum, and leapt onto Aedain. The gray dragon folded his wings and glued them to his slender body, increasing his speed. He extended his paws, armed with razor-sharp talons that were about to rip Aedain apart.

                Suddenly, a dark shape dashed from the side and swept Zhawn from his trajectory. May squinted her eyes and saw two gray dragons wrestling with each other in the air, roaring and furiously swinging their clawed paws at each other. One of the beasts had a bleeding stump instead of one of the limbs. Baltar and Zhawn were writhing, clasping their teeth and attempting to deliver a fatal blow, but both failing. When they were about to crash into the bay, they let go and flew in the opposite directions. However, it was only to make a loop upwards and clash again beneath the clouds, further away from the shore.

                Baltar closed his fang-filled jaws on Zhawn’s neck, but he swung his tail and hit precisely the stump. Aedain’s comrade let out a high-pitched roar. However, he didn’t let go off his opponent. Zhawn wasn’t about to give up either – the tip of his tail straightened, and he delved it into the raw flesh of his adversary’s crippled paw, twisting it inside the wound. As the inside of his shorter leg was being scrambled mercilessly, Baltar finally released the other dragon’s neck and roared in agony. Satisfied, Zhawn pushed his opponent down with his powerful paws and slashed with his talons, targeting his wings. The leathery membrane tore like paper, and when Baltar’s wings looked like scraps of fabric attached to twigs, he fell into the bay.

                He tried pulling up, but with his wings injured so severely, he was just as airborne as a regular boulder. To add the misery, he headed straight for one of the ships that managed to escape the Farnian soldiers. Once they spotted the dragon, the sailors began running around the deck in panic, readjusting the ropes and ushering the slaves in the cargo hold to grab the paddles. However, there was nothing they could do to prevent the catastrophe – Baltar smashed into their vessel, breaking the sturdy deck easily, as though it was made of thin clay. The humans screamed when they fell to the cold seawater, desperately grabbing the floating wreckage.

                His blood dyed the water around him red, as the dragon struggled to stay afloat among the remains of the ship and the human survivors. He lifted his head to gaze at the sky. It appeared, he could as well stop trying and drown already, for his doom was approaching. When Zhawn parted his jaws, gasping for air, Baltar must have that very soon he would be cooked alive. 

                Zhawn roared triumphantly and released his fire, aiming straight at Baltar. However, the flame changed its trajectory abruptly, missing Aedain’s companion and the survivors by about a hundred feet. It hit the spot far from both of them and the remaining vessels, making the seawater boil and a cloud of steam erupted from the bay, worsening the visibility considerably.

                Unlike Zhawn, May knew perfectly what hit him – a short while ago, Aedain managed to scramble himself from the hole in the docks and flew toward the clouds, surely planning on catching his enemy by surprise. Miraculously, he managed to accomplish it; Zhawn was so enticed in attacking Baltar that he didn’t even bother to watch out for the second one of his enemies. When he emerged from the steam, Aedain chased after him, breathing fire; he barely dodged.

                The dragon prince attacked fiercely like never before – he pursued Zhawn relentlessly, not allowing him to rest or come up with a strategy. The older Laismaran found itself in the middle of firestorm, under a hail of strikes with the tail and slashes by talons. May was no expert in dragon fighting, but she was under the impression that Aedain adapted some of Zhawn’s techniques, blending them with his own almost suicidal style. For the very first time this day, he was winning.

                When everything indicated that Zhawn wouldn’t win on Aedain’s terms, he did the only thing which came to his mind – he headed for the haven filled with people, surely hoping that the prince would hold back if the human lives were at stake. He dogged one of his opponents attacks and darted toward the docks, opening his mouth to turn the site into a conflagration.

                May looked around, nervously thinking that it was the moment to move to another place. She looked behind her, at the Farnians – much to her surprise neither of them was berating her for endangering herself, nor taking any action whatsoever to haul her into safety. All eyes were set on the duel in air, even Leif couldn’t tear his gaze off Zhawn and Aedain sparring under the clouds. Perhaps they knew that if the enemy decided to turn them into ashes, they wouldn’t escape far enough anyway.

                “Zhawn!” Aedain roared after his adversary, his voice echoing across the docks like a rolling thunder. He flapped his wings desperately, struggling to keep up with the other dragon.

                However, unlike Aedain’s, Zhawn’s wings were whole and uninjured. Grinning and exposing his sword-like fangs, the gray dragon ignored the prince’s yell. He inhaled sharply, preparing himself to scorch the entire haven. As he did so, he had to slow down slightly, in order to aim accurately. The air whistles as he sucked it in his lungs, and a hissing sound escaped his throat when the fire came out of his mouth.

                It appeared as though the docks would be turned into a conflagration, but in the last moment Aedain slammed into Zhawn, clenching his claws on his paws. The impact made the both dragons spin high in the air; the flaming blast left Zhawn’s throat. It was enormous and utterly terrifying – the fire wasn’t even orange anymore; it had a blue tint. This was the most impressive display of dragon flame this day, but it missed its target. Instead, it shot high in the air, illuminating the clouds above Orvik.

                Zhawn flapped his wings desperately, snapping his jaws at Aedain, but the younger dragon refused to let him go. Even when the opponent sank his teeth into the raw flesh exposed by the scorched scales, the prince held him firmly.

                “Aedain, what are you doing?” Zhawn hissed, seeing that Aedain folded his wings. The crimson dragons looked at him; their golden eyes locked. “No, that’s insane!”

                Suddenly, Zhawn’s frantic effort to keep the both of them in the air failed; weighed down by the prince, they began falling. His adversary was struggling, but Aedain dug his claws as deep as he could, making sure he wouldn’t escape. The majestic beasts, clasped together, descended toward the ground in a spiral dive. Zhawn’s leathery wings were whistling, barely slowing the fall. He stared down, a mortified expression flickering in his golden eyes. The fierce attacks on Aedain, the bites, the ferocious strikes with his scaled tail ceased, as he apparently understood that he couldn’t avoid crashing into the wharf. As the dragons neared the docks, their speed increased, making their silhouettes look like blurred shapes.

                A deafening bang shook the haven, when the beasts hit into a desolated part of the docks, not far from May. The brief tremor made the ground shake under the feet, spreading concentrically from the spot of the impact. A cloud of dust soared from the crash site, obscuring the view of two tangled scaled dragons, who laid motionless.

                “I thought he would let go off Zhawn.” May stared at the spreading dust cloud, shocked that Aedain went through the suicidal maneuver. She coughed when the wave of the stone powder reached the place where she was standing, watching the miserable end of the duel. For a moment, everything in Orvik went perfectly still, as though time froze. The Farn’s soldiers were staring in shock mixed with amazement, at the cloud of the dust floating over the crash site. They stopped the evacuation; the panicked evacuees froze as well, as if they forgot their fresh traumatic experience. No one dared to utter a word, to let out a whimper. No one looked away, as though it would be an insult to Aedain, the demon who saved their lives at the cost of his own.

                May took a step toward the dragons; her knees felt wobbly. Her mind was blank. She hardly believed that what she saw was real, for it seemed like a dream, a one with an unexpectedly sad ending.

                “He died a hero.” She barely registered Leif’s voice; the touch of his hand on her shoulder felt surreal. May couldn’t look away from the crash site shriveled in dust that was slowly dissolving, blown aside by the sea breeze. Perhaps it was a figment of her imagination, but the dark shape in the middle of the ground zero seemed shifting.

                “He’s alive,” she whispered and dashed out.

                Leif sighed heavily, rolling his eyes as the well-known scenario repeated itself yet again.

                “It might be Zhawn,” Erik said, pointing at the dust cloud and May’s back vanishing into it.

                “I know,” Leif muttered, and together with the half-blood boy, they chased after May once again.

                Aedain shifted atop of Zhawn, thinking that crashing his adversary into the ground might have been one of his worst ideas yet. Even though he managed to flip his adversary in the last moment and soften his own landing using Zhawn’s body, the force of the impact still broke quite a number of his bones. The dragon prince hissed from the pain and forced himself to stand up and finish what he started. It would be foolish to waste the rare opportunity to kill Zhawn, when Aedain was the one to have an upper hand in the combat. He meant to get a hold of his opponent’s neck and twist it. Naturally, breaking a spine was not lethal among their kind, but if he twisted it several times, he could rip Zhawn’s head off. Aedain doubted that even the old dragon could survive the beheading.

                The melted blister-covered skin hurt immensely, when he unglued it from Zhawn’s scales; shreds of reddish tissue tore off his body and remained on his opponent. The nerves flared, but Aedain’s mind was set on winning this battle, blocking the pain off. He straightened himself, balancing with the scorched tail and the injured wings, reaching to Zhawn with his clawed paws.

                However, when Aedain was about to lock his enemy’s head in the deadly grip, Zhawn sprang to life. His powerful tail smacked the prince in his chest, making him back off. Afterward, the older dragon curled into a tight ball, shielding his head, neck and limbs beneath his scaled body. As he was moving, Aedain could hear his bones rattling – they were clearly shattered into pieces; it appeared that assuming the protective position was the last move Zhawn could muster.

                The prince growled, scrapping his talons against his adversary’s scales, but there was no opening; no weak spot was uncovered. Releasing his frustration, he lounged at Zhawn’s wings, furiously ripping it into pieces and ensuring that the older dragon wouldn’t be able to take off. Aedain slashed the scales once again, but his claws only grazed the surface – with age a dragon’s scales were getting harder. Considering that Zhawn was older than he was, the prince would never be able to deliver a scratch to him, not to mention a fatal strike.

                There was only one object in Orvik capable of puncturing dragon flesh. Actually, two, but Aedain had no idea where the other one was.

                Sholais, I need to find Sholais, he thought as he crawled toward the edge of the hole – as he and Zhawn slammed into the ground, they remodeled the landscape of Orvik’s haven. The small plaza, the place where they had the little showdown with the useless Dragonslayer’s Spear, had currently a crater in the center. The stone tiles, once neatly laid, now were cracked, some of them turned into the dust.

                Clenching his teeth, Aedain transformed into a shape capable of wielding the sword. Even though it felt like it was going to kill him, he pushed his body to the limit. Suddenly, the crater became much bigger, but he knew that it was a mere illusion – he was smaller. Aedain reached out and grabbed the edge of the hole, pulling himself up.

                “Aedain!” He heard a familiar voice; of course, she had to wind up here, in the most dangerous area around. While crawling out of the crater, Aedain pondered if it was coincidental that May was everywhere where a catastrophe involving him transpired. Perhaps she was the one bringing those unfortunate occurrences.

                “Aedain?” She kept calling his name.

                May coughed, covering her mouth and nose. She squinted her eyes, but she could hardly see anything in the thick cloud of dust; the closer to the crash site she got, the worse the visibility was. She stumbled upon something and fell forward, painfully landing on her knees. The object scrapped the paving with a metallic sound.

                “Shit!” she hissed, pulling herself up, not paying attention to her bleeding knees. She felt the ground around her until her hand reached the item she tripped over. Instantly, May pulled her arm back when she felt the coldness and then her finger ached, as though she just pricked it with a needle. She brought her hand to her eyes and saw that one of them was bleeding, cut quite badly. What in the earth could be that sharp?

                She leaned over the item and recognized it – it was a long, elegant sword. The blade was much different from the ones used by Farnian or Karhadonian soldiers. It was also unmistakably familiar – it was Sholais.

                “Woman!” May shrieked from surprise and almost fell on her butt, when she heard Aedain calling her. She whirled around and saw the demon crawling out of the huge crater in the ground. With the gruesome burns and wounds, he looked like an undead rising from his grave. Once he pulled himself up onto the cracked paving, he caught the glimpse of his sword. “Sholais, give it to me.”

                No questions asked, May grabbed the handle of the Laismaran sword and attempted to lift it. However, it was far too heavy, so she dragged it instead. The razor-sharp blade was leaving a scratch on the tiles. When she was almost by the crater, about to hand Sholais to Aedain, May noticed a movement on the bottom of the crevice.

                The gray dragon, curled into the ball and still, suddenly straightened his tail and back. He uncovered his lethal weapons – the powerful paws ending with long talons, and the head armed with a set of deadly teeth. It turned out that he wasn’t as harmless as Aedain had thought. Gracefully like a cat, Zhawn jumped out of the crater, landing between the prince and May.

                She shrieked and stumbled backwards, when Zhawn’s tail swished before her eyes, knocking Sholais out of her hands and sending the blade far into the sky. The hostile dragon let out an odd hissing noise, that sounded like a cackle. Aedain clenched his fist, assuming a battle stance and readied himself to change the form of his body to his dragon shape once more, but Zhawn attacked first. However, the prince was not his target.

                Leaping like a lion on a gazelle, he turned away from Aedain and chased after May. She felt as though the most basic instincts took over and all she could think about, was to run. Although she gave her all, sprinting toward the Farnians, she managed to take only several steps before the agile scaled tail undercut her. May collided with the crack paving painfully, barely amortizing her fall by her hands. She rolled onto her back only to see Zhawn’s massive form looming over her. Before she could get up, he pinned her to the ground with one of the huge paws. The talons pierced the stone tiles, as though they were made of paper. May gulped, noticing with the corner of her eye, that one of the claws missed her throat only by an inch. The air fled her lungs, as Zhawn pressed her with his paw.

                Writhing, May struggled to free herself from the dragon’s grasp, but it was pointless – she was a mere weak human girl in front of the most powerful beast in the Callesmere Empire. When she looked up, she stiffened, feeling, as though blood froze in her veins. She locked her eyes with Zhawn’s; he was glaring at her with scorn, but there was also sadness reflecting in his golden orbs.

                Seeing May in peril, Aedain muttered a profanity in Laismaran, cursing the idiot woman for getting herself in danger, making him save her again. Immediately, he sprang to action, beginning his transformation. To change skin so many times in his condition was extremely foolish and might turn out lethal, but he did not hesitate. A mere moment could decide whether she lived or died. The air swirled around him, dispersing the remnants of the dust cloud.

                “If I were you, I wouldn’t do this, Aedain.” Zhawn shifted his attention from his hostage to the dragon prince.

                Aedain glared at him spitefully, clenching his teeth so that the jaw muscle began twitching. However, he listened to Zhawn and remained in the defenseless human-like form. His wrath was difficult to control, and complying to his enemy’s demands was a direct attack on his pride. Under different circumstances, Aedain would leap forward, to finish Zhawn, but this time, something more precious than his honor was at stake.

                “Leave her out of it. This fight is between you and me,” he hissed, quickly glancing at May trapped beneath the older dragon’s paw. She was wriggling desperately, her fingernails were scratching Zhawn’s scaled skin. Like Aedain expected, the woman would never give up without a fight, even if the victory was out of her reach. Frantically, she hit her captor with her small fists, before she looked at Aedain pleadingly, silently asking for his help.

                In response, Zhawn cackled, his deep laughter echoing across the docks.

                “She is important to you, isn’t she?” he asked, squeezing May slightly and making her let out a pained whimper, thus angering Aedain further. “Killing her before your eyes would be the most fitting revenge.”

                Aedain froze, waiting for his opponent’s next move and so did the entire Farnian army. Thoen’s soldiers surrounded the dragon; their swords were drawn, but they did not attack. Surely, they would not risk the life of the Duke’s daughter. Aedain stole a quick look at the ranks of the humans. He saw countless unfamiliar men in chain mails, covered with bloodied rags that used to be tunic with the emblem of Farn. In some distance, stood Duke Thoen, gazing at May with panic reflecting on his otherwise stoic face. Aedain’s minion, Leif, was also there, creeping toward the shining object, the prince identified as Sholais. The half-breed boy was nowhere to be seen.

                Suddenly, Zhawn’s rear got inexplicably punctured – it looked to Aedain, as though a hole in one of the scales just appeared. The dragon stiffened, apparently startled by the sensation that must have felt like a mosquito bite. A small streamlet of blood flew out of an inch-wide wound, making its way along the path in the air, as though dripping down some invisible spear. The strike was not enough to injure Zhawn much, but it was enough to distract him.

                “Aedain, catch!” Aedain whirled around to see Leif swinging Sholais and sending it flying toward the prince. The bright blade shone, reflecting the sunlight as it was rotated toward its owner. He caught the handle in midair and dashed out to his adversary.

                May sucked in her breath, realizing that it was her chance to survive this. Zhawn noticed the threat and spun around, letting go off his hostage. Not wasting precious decisive seconds, May rolled onto her stomach and scrambled herself off the ground as fast as she could. Her legs felt wobbly, but she ignored them, driven by the unyielding will to survive.

                As Zhawn was turning around, a previously invisible person materialized; Erik was still holding the Dragonslayer’s Spear when Zhawn moved, dragging the boy along. The centrifugal force threw Erik along with the weapon, sending him crashing into May. She got the wind knocked out of her lungs, moment before painfully colliding with the hard stone tiles. The whole time she didn’t avert her gaze from the threat, though.

                Aedain charged on Zhawn, aptly dodging the tail swishes, the strikes with paws and head. It appeared, he was aiming for his enemy’s weak points, but the dragon had the advantage of size and mass. The prince wasn’t able to reach any place suited to pierce. He danced around Zhawn for far too long, slowly losing the advantage that element of surprise provided. Finally, he saw an opening. Without hesitation, he jumped at the opportunity and dove under Zhawn’s body. He lifted Sholais and pushed forcefully, aiming at the dragon’s heart.

                The prince smirked, and May felt a wave of relief wash over her. Aedain did it, she thought, knowing that this strike would be lethal; Sholais went into Zhawn’s flesh without resistance, cutting the incredibly hard scales easily. However, just when the sword was about to pierce the most vital point, the dragon moved and the blade missed the heart.

                Nevertheless, Zhawn roared wildly in agony, throwing his head back. He smacked Aedain with his paw, sending the prince flying like a rag doll. The younger demon crashed into the paving; May could hear his bones rattled as his back touched the ground. Before Aedain had time to jump back on his feet, Zhawn whirled around to pounce at his previous prey, May, once again.

                Seeing the approaching dragon, May pushed Erik off herself, desperate to get the boy out of Zhawn’s way. The dragon hissed and opened his mouth packed with awfully long teeth. Panicked, she grabbed the first weapon she could get her hand on – the Spear. When she closed her fingers around the black pole, she felt a weird sensation, as though an electric current shot through her body. Afterward, she blacked out.

                Aedain glanced at May, making sure she was uninjured. She appeared to be fine, but for some undisclosed reason, she did not even attempt to run away into safety. This bizarre behavior caught the attention of the half-breed boy, Erik.

                “May?” Erik asked, his eyes darting between Zhawn and her.

                May did not react; she stood up, staring at the dragon blankly, as though she was not entirely conscious. There was no fear in her – her knees did not buckle, her heartbeat was not elevated; it was even.

                “Dragon.” Her green eyes were set on charging Zhawn; her voice sounded eerie, as though it did not belong to her.

                The gray dragon leapt and parted his jaws, clearly planning on gobbling the woman up. The half-breed boy was panting, scared. He tugged May’s garments, ushering her to move and run, but she stood in place firmly. Aedain felt droplets of cold sweat on his forehead, as he stared at the scene. Why was she not moving?

                “May, run!” Aedain yelled, scrambling off the ground and running toward Zhawn; however, it was impossible that he would make to May in time.

                Suddenly, she smirked. The grimace made Aedain’s blood run cold – he never saw her looking so… vile. The dragon prince was not easily scared, but now a primal instinct to flee resounded through his whole being, as though he was standing before a dangerous predator. Not tearing her eyes off Zhawn, May lifted the Spear and pointed it at the dragon.

                The clouds above Orvik thickened. It was unnatural how quickly they gathered; one brief moment and the Karhadon’s capital became engulfed in darkness, as the sun was blocked out. Zhawn slowed down and stopped when he noticed that something was not right. A menacing black emanation began gathering around the weapon and May. It was the aura of pure evil – the one of the death itself. Aedain took a step back when she grinned at him.

                The ground beneath his feet vibrated, when an unusual tremor spread through Orvik, like a mild shockwave. It was an omen, foreshadowing the terror that was about to follow. Aedain jumped in the last moment just in time to avoid a dark shape, which suddenly sprouted from the ground. Soon enough, more began appearing, sprouting like spooky flowers in the spring.   

                "Hands!" Erik breathed out, looking around himself. Huge black hand-like shapes were emerging from the ground like ghosts of the fallen.

                Zhawn was bewildered; frantically, he maneuvered between the dark hands. He was so focused on the creations of the Spear, that he missed Aedain speeding toward him. The dragon prince slid under Zhawn and, before his adversary could react, he clutched the handle of Sholais. The sword was still stuck in the dragon’s chest, an inch from his heart.

                “That’s for threatening her,” Aedain hissed loud enough only for Zhawn to hear it and pulled the handle, cutting the dragon’s chest open. Zhawn let out a high-pitched pained cry, as the prince tore his flesh apart. The scaled skin tore, exposing the ribs, tissue of muscles and enormous lungs. Between them, was the beating heart. Aedain yelled and swung Sholais at it to end the ordeal.

                However, something captured him and squeezed painfully. He gasped, startled and looked down; one of the ghostly arms was holding him. When its grasp was tightening, Aedain felt his remaining ribs crack. He looked over his shoulder.

                “Woman, stop it!” he yelled at May, but she behaved as though she did not hear him. She just stood in the middle of raging hell; the black shapes were erupting from the ground all around her. Initially, they targeted Zhawn, but now they were reaching out for every living soul in the vicinity, not differentiating between friend and foe. They captured Zhawn and Aedain, but also snatched those Farnians, who were the nearest. Aedain felt his vision blur, when his ribcage got crushed even more. “May, stop!”

                She did not. Aedain did not know if it was because of the blood loss, but he had an impression that all of a sudden it became much colder. Soon, the thin layer of ice began covering the floor though. It was late spring, but the snowflakes descended from the sky, at first falling like light fluff, but then they swirled until a blizzard developed. In a matter of seconds, the air filled with countless snowflakes, worsening the visibility. Aedain narrowed his eyes, but even he could not discern a thing in the snow storm.

                Abruptly, the snowflakes got blown aside, as though some unseen force rammed in the midst of the storm. Aedain made out an unclear shape descending from the dark cloud, speeding toward the ground. It was within his perception only for a moment, barely longer than blinking, but he recognized the blurry contour. It was a human silhouette, willowy and slightly curvy – a female. Her white hair swirled around her slim frame, when she moved fast like a lightning. He wanted to yell, to warn May, but it was already too late.

                The human woman had too little time to react; she did not even see the enemy, who sneaked behind her. Before the snowflakes obscured the view, Aedain saw the white-haired wench lift her hand, about to surprise May and smack her in the back of her head. Short after that transpired, the blizzard intensified. It swept the thick snowflakes into the air, thus making him lose the sight of the woman.

                He heard May’s cry and just when it reached his ears, the grip of the shadowy hands around him vanished. He fell to his knees, but he kept crawling forward, wanting to reach the woman. The blizzard was passing, going away as quickly and unexpectedly as it appeared.

                “May!” Aedain saw her lay on the stone tiles. When he reached out to her with his hand, she groaned. Clumsily pulling herself up, she looked around, furrowing her brows in confusion.

                “What happened?” she asked, staring at the Farnian soldiers laying on the ground, moaning from pain. Her dazed gaze slid over Erik, who looked rather fine, to Aedain.

                “Do you not remember?” The demon was surprised. May shook her head.

                “I think I blacked out for a while,” she confessed. “What happened here?”

                Aedain did not answer her; instead, he touched her shoulder, reassuring himself that she was real. Afterward, his gaze left May and scanned her surroundings. The most vital object was missing.

                “Where is the Spear?” he demanded. The woman sighed, raising her eyebrow.

                “Better question, where’s Zhawn?” she responded with a question.

                Aedain looked over his shoulder and saw that, indeed, Zhawn vanished with the blizzard. Only a puddle of blood was left of him, along with some torn out scraps of skin and muscle. The prince scowled. He tried to stand up, to follow the foe wherever he went, but his knees trembled and his weak legs gave up.

                “Aedain, are you holding up?” May looked at him with worry, brushing his tangled hair off his face. Aedain nodded before his eyes closed, and he fell forward limply, burying his face in her lap. She looked down, mortified. Instantly, May pressed her fingers to the artery at his neck and breathed out with relief when she felt a faint pulse. She looked up at the people gathered around her.

                For some reason, Farnian soldiers were hesitant to come anywhere near her. They even motioned themselves further away. The only ones rushing to her side were Erik, Leif and, of course, Duke Thoen.

                “Maewyn, my child!” The Duke closed the distance between them surprisingly fast, for a middle-aged man clad in an incredibly heavy armor. Shoving Leif and Erik aside, he knelt by May and clutched her shoulders. Tears of joy streamed down his face, as he pulled her into an embrace, pushing Aedain’s head out of her lap.

                Thoen wasn’t bothered much by the dragon prince’s body limply rolling onto his back, accented with the unpleasant sound of his head banging against the stone tiles. However, May felt somewhat disturbed that the hero of the day received such a treatment. It was simply… wrong. Quickly, she wriggled out of the Duke’s embrace, eying unconscious Aedain with worry.

                “He needs help.” She looked at her fake father meaningfully, pointing at the injured demon. The Duke’s green eyes followed her gaze and stared at Aedain with surprise, as though he noticed him just now. His forehead wrinkled, his thick eyebrows furrowed, as he was deciding about the prince’s fate. Finally, he gestured for his men to come closer.

                “Dress his wounds and guard him,” he said loud. “We were in grave peril today, and Prince Aedain proved himself to be our ally. Farn never leaves its allies to perish.”

                The Duke jumped onto his feet and helped May up. He led her aside, letting the soldiers to place Aedain on a makeshift stretcher. Once the Farnians carried the dragon prince out of the battlefield, Thoen pulled May back into the bear-like embrace.

                This time, May didn’t fight back; she closed her eyes, glad that the nightmare was finally over. It seemed miraculous, but she made it alive out of the terrifying ordeal. Suddenly, she stiffened, having an impression, she was forgetting something. Something extremely important, more vital than even her own life. Something that was the reason she threw herself in the midst of this madness in the first place.

                “Hailey,” she whispered. Feeling a rush of panic, she pushed the Duke back and looked him in the eye. “The girl I told you about, did you find her? Did you find Hailey?”

                Thoen stared at May for a while, uneasiness flickering in his green orbs. When he looked away, her heart began pounding frantically, as the worst suspicion crept into her mind.

                “We freed all the prisoners we could reach, but there was no one named Hailey among them.” Thoen avoided looking May in the eye. Instead, he set his gaze on the Orvik Bay and the tiny white shapes vanishing in the distance. “Some ships sailed away before we could intercept them. And some…”

                Thoen paused, but he didn’t need to finish the sentence. Mortified, May stared at the burning pieces of wreckage floating in the water – during the dragons’ fight many vessels were lost, as well as the lives of the innocent people. To think that Hailey might have been among the killed… May sucked the air sharply, clenching her fists; she refused to believe it could be true. Her little sister couldn’t be dead, not after everything May did to save her!

                “Maewyn, goddess Illiana will surely take good care of your friend.” The Duke squeezed May’s cold and sweaty hand, but that simple gesture didn’t chase her sorrow away. He patted her shoulder awkwardly, wrinkling his forehead as he struggled to come up with something better to say.

                “Sire!” May and Thoen turned their heads to the source of the noise; it was Leif. The Farnian captain was standing with his gaze set on the sea and the palm shielding his eyes from the sun, so that he could see better. “Sire, the dragon!”

                “The prince?” The Duke looked in the direction, where the stretcher with Aedain had been carried.

                “Not Aedain. The other one!” Leif exclaimed, pointing at the wharf.

                The Duke turned around, supporting May. Her whole body was shivering; she moved as though she was in a daze. Half-consciously, she looked where Leif was pointing. She tilted her head, failing to recognize the weird sight at first.

                “Baltar?” she muttered.

                An enormous creature was dog-paddling toward the shore at an excruciatingly slow pace, leaving a trail of blood in the water. It was difficult to identify the shape as a dragon, for Baltar was covered in people, what made him look like some bizarre creature. The survivors sat on his back, held onto his limbs and tail – everything they could grab. The dragon was hauling over fifty people, the prisoners from the ship he crashed into.

                May approached Baltar, staring at him and his passengers, shivering from cold, but looking at the nearing shore with hope. The dragon didn’t slow down when he was approaching the wharf; he just slammed into it. Resting his head on the dry paving, he closed his eyes and, exhausted, passed out. A sudden clamor erupted in the docks, as dozens of civilians began searching for their relatives among the survivors, calling their names.

                Feeling a flicker of hope in her heart, mixed with worry that this hope might be futile, May rushed into water as well. Her brown hair whirled around her head, as she was frantically searching for her sister. People were jostling and pushing her, in the rush to find their children, siblings, spouses. Every time she saw long blonde hair, she thought it may be Hailey, but once they turned around, revealing their unfamiliar faces, disappointment arrived. May struggled to spot her sister in the crowd, knowing it was her last hope. She was so enticed with the search, that she almost ignored someone clutching her shoulder and yanking it. When the person wasn’t likely to leave her alone, she whirled around.

                She froze.

                May blinked, praying it wasn’t an illusion. Before her eyes, stood no one other than her sister. Her fair hair was tangled, the pretty face smeared with dirt, and the clothing wrinkled, but it was Hailey. For a while, they stared at each other, as though not believing that they met. It felt like the time stopped, all the noise and commotion around them didn’t matter.

                Letting out a sob, Hailey threw herself at May. Both sisters stayed in the embrace, clinging at each other, as though their lives depended on it. No words were needed – all they needed now, was to be together. May felt her whole body shiver uncontrollably, as the whole tension simply vanished, setting her suppressed emotions free. She let the tears stream down her cheeks, when she buried her face in Hailey’s damp locks.

                It was over. She had trouble believing it, but it was true – she got her sister back. The ordeal, she went through, was horrifying, but it was worth it. Being able to hold her sister in a tight hug, compensated for all the perilous moments, all bruises and the exhaustion. The joy of simply being together made the horror of war pale.

                               Clutching her sister, May smiled to herself. She had no idea, that she cherished both Hailey and her own life so much; now, she began appreciating, what she had. Hope and faith in success flooded May’s heart. Perhaps the journey home would be long and dangerous, but as long as they had each other, nothing else mattered. The clouds above Orvik dispersed, letting the sun engulf the people with its warm rays and chase away the memories of Zhawn.

                Smoke was still rising over Orvik when Farn’s army was departing. Several units stayed behind in the scorched city, occupying the heart of Karhadon, or what remained of it. Duke Thoen, however, was returning home, leading the majority of the soldiers with him.

                The march of the victorious army resembled a funeral procession. Out of five thousand men, who set out to put an end to Karhadon’s aggression, only two thousand survived. Many soldiers were severely wounded, missing limbs or barely clinging onto life. The medics struggled to bring these brave Farnians home, but several times a day the army had to pause its march to bury the dead.

                The injured were being transported on everything, the Farnians could salvage from Orvik – vehicle ranging from a farmer’s cart, to overly decorative carriages of nobles. One of them was exceptional though – a masterpiece of makeshift engineering. An enormous platform on wheels had to be hauled by a dozen of strong horses. Its wheels creaked and the wooden surface bent dangerously, as though the construction was about to fall apart under the weight of its passenger. Duke’s men tried to conceal the cargo with rags and canvas, but a scaled tail peeking from under them was a dead giveaway.

                Behind the gigantic cart, a simple merchant wagon made its way along the highway leading toward Farn. The vehicle was rather plain and unsightly, but its passengers were very important people. One of them just woke up, as his head banged against the hard wooden floor of the wagon, when a wheel rode into a hole. Slowly, he opened his golden eyes and stared at the darkening sky above.

                It took Aedain a while fully to regain consciousness. His vision was still blurred, the rays of setting sun hurt his immensely. The most dreadful headache in his life followed, making him regret that he survived. When he felt himself sleeping back into the numbness, he clenched his teeth, fighting it. Aedain was set on clinging onto the barely reclaimed cognitive state. The moments of consciousness were becoming less frequent and briefer, what made him fear, that the next time he would not wake up.

                Instinctively, Aedain attempted to sit up, but that turned out to be quite impossible. It appeared, he had been wrapped in bandages and sheets so tightly, that he was unable to move. Even if the damnable humans had not immobilized him, the piercing pain prevented him from wriggling in his restraints. With every breath, he could feel the fractured ribs graze against his internal organs – that was quite an unpleasant sensation.

                Deciding it was best not to worsen his already critical condition, Aedain relaxed his muscles. Not without a fair amount of aching, he twisted his neck to see who besides him occupied the pathetic vehicle; the stench of his burnt flesh made him wish, he had no sense of smell at all.

                His gaze swept over the humans around. The cart was driven by his minion. Leif was his name, if Aedain remembered well – however, it did not truly matter how was he called. A minion was a minion; they were in no need for names. Nonetheless, the human soldier was swaying from side to side, what showed that he was napping while sitting. Next to him lay the half-breed boy, snoring delicately.

                The only ones awake were the two females – the woman and her sister. May was cuddling the younger girl, as though someone was about to tear that snotty brat from her embrace. How foolish, Aedain commented in his thoughts, narrowing his eyes. He glared at the blonde sister maliciously, noting to himself to scare her out of her wits in the near future. The sour grimace on his face vanished, when he caught a glimpse of May laughing. His eyes followed her hand, as she combed her tangled hair with her fingers, tucking a stray lock behind her ear. The bright smile on her face was extraordinary – it was the first time, Aedain saw her so carefree, so happy. For some reason, it made her look more beautiful than nymphs of the Southern Domain, even though her face was dirty, covered in cuts and bruises.

                Noticing May whisper something to the snotty brat’s ear, Aedain scowled. There was something in the woman’s sibling, he despised, and it was more than simply holding a grudge against all of the humanity. Anger and frustration flooded his mind like an unstoppable tidal wave, when he saw May fondly wrap a woolen blanket around her sister’s shoulder. Why was she caring about that snotty brat so much? Clearly, the blonde girl did not need that much of her attention; she was not even injured, unlike Aedain. While the snotty brat was being pampered by May, he had been left with some loathsome old man, who tended to him.

                He averted his gaze, feeling irked. As the wagon swayed, his broken body flared with pain so intense, that he was not able to hide it. A hiss escaped Aedain’s throat. Short after, he glanced at the woman, expecting her to rush to his side. However, she was so preoccupied with whispering to that damnable sister of hers, that she did not even notice Aedain’s distress. Maybe she did not hear him? After all, human hearing was not as acute as Laismaran.

                Discreetly glancing at her, he moaned quietly, expressing how much pain he felt. When it had no effect on the woman, he moaned again, this time louder. Aedain muttered a curse under his breath, for he failed to grab her attention – she was still cuddling her sister.

                The resentment grew within Aedain, as he bored his glare into his target – the girl named Hailey. Perhaps she sensed his gaze upon her, for she lifted her head and stared right at him, her blue eyes widening. They locked their eyes only for a brief moment, before she tugged May’s shoulder and quickly whispered something in a language, Aedain was unfamiliar with.

                Hastily, he stared back at the sky, before he squeezed his eyes shut. Hearing the creaking of the wagon’s wooden floor and the sound of light footsteps, he smiled inwardly, pleased. Finally, he thought, waiting for May to kneel at his side, to wipe the sweat of his forehead and express her gratitude for saving her.

                Unfortunately for Aedain, one of the wagon’s wheels chose this moment to fall into a fairly big hole in the highway. The cart shook violently. The dragon prince heard May’s startled yelp and soon enough felt her whole weight slam into him. His eyes snapped open immediately, as his already broken bones got squashed. Aedain’s vision went blurry from all the intense pain; his nerves flared.

                “Woman!” he coughed out, feeling her shifting atop of him, making his body hurt more with every move, she made.

                “I’m sorry!” she called to him, supporting herself on her arms. Aedain clenched his teeth, praying to the ancestors that she would get off him immediately. She was moving clumsily, so he gave her a piece of his mind.

                “You are slow like a slug and ungraceful like an old drunkard!” He hissed, freeing one of his arms and helping the woman, by unceremoniously shoving her off himself. She groaned, when she landed on the wooden wagon’s floor beside him. The kind, happy expression vanished from her face instantly, replaced by an angry grimace; over the last lunar cycle, Aedain became quite used to it.

                “You don’t have to be so rude. It was an accident!” May sat up, gracing him with a glare. However, Aedain viewed her behavior rather as invitation to a verbal sparring.

                “Accident, you say?” He raised his eyebrow; a simple gesture that cost him much of suffering, as his face was covered in blisters, the flesh almost burnt to the bone. “Increasing the suffering of a dying man is an atrocious deed, even for a human.”

                May opened her mouth, surely to explain herself, but shut it and narrowed her eyes at Aedain.

                “You’re not dying, Aedain,” she said; a softer tone crept into her voice. “Besides, you can’t die before you fulfill your promise. You’re supposed to get me home safely, remember?”

                Aedain stared at May, as she smiled to him with genuine sympathy and reached for his hand. He felt her warmth, when she squeezed his palm reassuringly. The simple gesture had an unexpected impact on him – he felt, as though something slammed into his chest, knocking the air out of his lungs. At the same time, it was not an unpleasant sensation.

                “I remember,” Aedain replied, not entirely certain, if he was wanted to fulfill that promise.

                The image of the woman’s face blurred, the contours of her face became less defined with each passing moment. Aedain heard a distant, dimmed voice, but he was no longer able to make out, what it was saying. As he was slipping into the empty realm of unconsciousness, the real world seemed to vanish. Only the warmth of May’s hand remained, the gentle touch of her skin like a lifeline. In the last moment of consciousness, Aedain entwined his fingers with hers, wanting to preserve the memory of her touch. Afterward, he let the oblivion claim him.

Epilogue

                Fluorescent crystals were lightning the spacious cave, the place which the sunlight never reached. The underground chamber was hidden deep within Beann Grumhaill, known by the humans as Mount Fehn, the tallest mountain in the whole Kal Laismarr. The spring days were pleasantly warm, but in the cave air seemed to freeze in lungs.

                A sudden draft made the rushing noise echo across the lair when a wave of snow flakes swept inside, swirling like a live organism. The tiny pieces of ice dispersed, revealing a huge form of an injured dragon. The small blizzard raged on until the beast was gently lowered onto the cave floor, and then the snow flakes blended together into a form of a white-haired woman. Nesrin’s fair locks swirled behind her when she rushed to Zhawn’s side, worry and fear flickering in her pale eyes.

                The dragon was barely clinging onto the life; death seemed to be eager to claim him once again. Nesrin knew that this time he wouldn’t bring Zhawn back, for it wasn’t possible to light a spark of light in a corpse twice. She reached to the dying Laismaran and slid her fingers over the enormous gash in his chest. When her palm touched the torn skin and intestines, a thin layer of ice covered them, temporarily stopping the bleeding.

                “It’s all I can do for you,” Nesrin whispered, her eyes never leaving the unconscious dragon. Cautiously, she laid the Dragonslayer’s Spear by Zhawn’s side and ventured to explore the cave, driven by curiosity.

                Nesrin was in the bowels of Beann Grumhail only once; the cave was the first place Zhawn visited after his return to his homeland. He asked her for a favor then, and that was when she realized what kind of man he was. She understood why he turned against his best friend Kaellach and engorged in slaughter of his own people, why he sought revenge so desperately. Nesrin knew what motivated Zhawn to wager his soul and the countless lives of Kal Laismarr’s inhabitants.

                She made a final turn and stopped, holding her breath. Nesrin reached out with her pale hand and gasped, feeling the cold block of ice, smooth like glass. She stared, enticed by the extraordinary sight.

                Golden locks enfolded the silhouette of a most beautiful woman ever to set her foot in Kal Laismarr. Nesrin admired her peaceful, wonderful face; she looked like a good spirit clad in flesh and blood. A small smile lingered on her pale lips. The hair and clothing seemed to float as though the woman was emerged in water. With her eyes closed, she was like asleep. Time stopped running for the one frozen in the block of ice.

                The cold preserved her beauty, but also the evidence of her suffering. Nesrin’s eyes slid over the woman’s blood-stained sleeves. Her hands were resting protectively on her slightly bulged stomach. Contrary to the peaceful and tender look on her face, the rest of her frozen body bore the signs of death. The dress red dress owed its color to her blood; the delicate hands were covering torn flesh of her stomach and a tiny hand reaching out in a silent plea for salvation. Salvation that never came.

                Nesrin touched the ice, her fingers sliding over the beauty’s cold coffin. Who she was looking at, was Zhawn’s greatest treasure. The treasure that was taken from him by the man he trusted the most. Not even the culprit’s son knew about his father’s dishonorable and gruesome deed, the act that drove Zhawn mad with the lust for vengeance. Back then, seventy years ago, he was a man who had nothing to lose. Now, he had everything to gain. Nesrin locked her eyes on the lifeless woman encased in ice.

                “Will you still be smiling when thousands will die because of you?” Nesrin whispered.

                The beauty did not reply, remaining still in her tomb, the gentle smile on her lips.

Author's Note:

Thank you very much for reading my book. I'd be grateful, if You write a review (even a short one). It would be very nice of You!

The SEQUEL is planned (and in progress). "Mystic Mirror" is the first book of the series, so stay tuned for the rest of the story!