"Mama?" Viria called, hurrying into the large wooden building. Inside the sound of saws cut through the air, and the smell of freshly cut wood assailed her nostrils.
    "Vir? What is it?"
    Viria caught sight of her Mother, a small woman with short jet black hair. She was covered in sawdust. They had to shout over the noise. "We got another order! Two bundles for a man in Swarin."
    "Ai. There have been so many orders since them cities been burned."
    "He wants them in a month's time."
    "It will be ready. Now go. No more work for you today."
    "But Mama-"
    "No arguing. Now go."
    Viria said no more. She quickly left her family's lumber mill. She had never taken to the job as her brother had. The sawdust made her sneeze and she would then get sick. Her Mother didn't make her do anything but take orders and manage the account book. It had never run so thickly in her blood as it did her brother. Eunum was the one who was set to take over the business when their mother passed.
    Exiting the building, Viria felt free once more. She took a deep breath of the refreshing clean air. She hurried away, walking over the bridge spanning the river, and the bridge that also separated the lumber mill from the main bulk of the village.
    Viria lived in a very small, tight-knit community. The village of Brightsigh. It was filled with many different kinds of people. There were mostly humans, but there were also a fair spattering of half-bloods, shapeshifters, and one werewolf.
    Viria herself was a shapeshifter, and a good one at that. She had shed her human body quite easily, and was able to stay in an animal form for a very long time, if need be. Of course, no one knew but her own family, but she was also part mage. She kept this a secret from all but her brother and mother.
    Her father had been a mutt. Shapeshifting mage. Her mother was human. It had been so unlikely she gain both of Father's abilities, but she had. Her brother only inherited the shapeshifting.
    But, oh, how Viria did love being a mage! She practiced her magic in secret, far away from the village or deep beneath the ground in the tunnels. No one knew of this, not even Eunum. He had believed she shed her mage abilities long, long ago. He didn't need to know, as far as she was concerned. It wasn't important.
    "Viria? Did your Mother give you the day off?"
    "Hello Iffy. And yes, she did. If you're not busy, I would love to continue our lesson from the other day. And I'm still not so great at keeping enemies from flanking me."
    Iffy smiled. "It's good to see one so enthusiastic. I am not occupied at the moment and would love to continue our lessons. Though I will say, there's not much more I can teach you in the way of archery. You have a spot-on aim."
    "Yes, but you still haven't taught me those things that I can't remember what you called them. Where I nock more than one arrow."
    "Why don't we save that for another day? My nephew will be visiting soon and he is also eager to learn."
    "That's quite alright. I can't wait to meet him!"
    "Come, then, child. I will teach you more of the shield and sword."
    Viria followed Iffy as he headed towards the Training Grounds. Nobody else was there. It was often empty. Not many people in town cared for fighting. Viria never understood. There was something about holding a sword in your hand, or aiming down your bow, that just felt so right. She had always took to combat. And she was good at it. A natural.
    Oh, Mother hated it. So much! She would never talk to Iffy and when she did she would be incredibly rude. As far as Viria's Mother cared, it was because of him her daughter wanted to fight. And kill people.
    But it wasn't about that. She didn't want to kill people either. But it felt good to know that she could defend herself. And in fair combat she was able to best an opponent. She was powerful. She was learning.
    Iffy handed her one of his own shields and sword. They were old. And not of very good make. But they were just for practice. She gripped the shield in her right hand, the sword in her left. Viria dropped into a defensive stance, glaring at Iffy, who had just donned his own equipment.
    "Keep your eyes open, and watch very closely. Under no circumstances let me get on your unprotected side."
    She simply nodded, already keeping her eyes glued to her instructor. They began to circle around each other, ever so slowly. Too slowly. Was he going to attack or not? And there, that one single heartbeat where she was not paying attention. He swung, and though her reflexes were quick her arm was weak and she was not ready. Their blades scraped against each other, but Viria stumbled backwards by the force of Iffy's blow. She gasped as his blade came singing up to her neck, stopping inches from the skin.
    "For the sake of the gods, Viria, you need to pay more attention! One of these days it's going to bite you back and you will die."
    "I'm sorry, Iffy, I'll try harder."
    "You better. You lose your focus so quickly. Perhaps you should try meditating. It is great practice of concentration."
    "Perhaps," she murmured, not quite keen on the idea.
    "Ready yourself. We're going again."

"Are you alright? You look horrible."
    "Thanks, Eunum, that's the one thing every girl wants to hear," Viria grumbled.
    "Well you can't disagree with me, can you?"
    "No. I guess not. I've been training with Iffy. I'm getting better, definitely, but I'm not perfect. Not even halfway perfect. Not even a quarter of the way perfect."
    "You're getting better though. Any improvement is good improvement."
    "I guess."
    Neither of them said more until they were in their house. It wasn't too big. Her and Eunum shared a room in the basement. Mother slept upstairs, in the living room, dining room, and kitchen. No, they weren't very wealthy people. But it didn't matter much.
    Viria grabbed an apple from the table, taking a large bite. She dropped the apple back as she caught sight of a pheasant breast lying on the table. Mother must have skinned and cooked it only this afternoon.
    "Excuse me, misses, but you aren't going to just leave this once-bitten apple on the table, are you?" Eunum chided.
    "Well, I was going to eat it, but I've just been through grueling hours of training and I want meat."
    "You can't just leave it. You bit into it. Eat it!"
    Viria gasped and choked on her bite of pheasant as something knocked her right on her head. The apple clattered back onto the floor, rolling under the dining table.
    "What did you just do? I'll have you strung up by your britches for such a thing!"
    "Yeah yeah, sure sure. Let's see you try."
    "If I wasn't bruised and cut up I would punch you into the mud. But for now. Well, you better just watch your back," she hissed playfully, narrowing her eyes at Eunum.
    "I'll be waiting," he chuckled.
    "Children, children, settle down, will you?"
    Viria spun around, not even having heard the door open and close. Their Mother bustled into the house, looking as if she had had a long day of work.
    "Sorry Mama, but he started it."
    "Doesn't matter. Go to bed, now, will you? It's quite late."
    "We just got home," Eunum whined. "I'm not even tired yet."
    "No arguing! You're both over seventeen, and should respect the wishes of your Mother. Do as she tells you, now, would you? I'm tired and wanting some rest."
    "Alright, Mama. Good night."
    "Yes, good night," Eunum added before the two of them descended to the basement.
    Their beds were at opposite sides of the room but it didn't make any difference. They could still hear each other perfectly well. Viria felt the stirrings of adventure in her gut. What she wouldn't give to just leave. Just go away. Create her own stories. Meet friends and enemies. Just like in the old tales. But she was just a girl from a small town and would probably be living like that for the rest of her life.

Viria giggled, tossing the stick from her. The dog was owned by the man who ran the Inn. But he might as well have been owned by all in the town. He was so well known and loved by all.
    But suddenly Rabbit came back, and he didn't have the stick in his mouth. He looked so upset. So scared. He barked at her. But he wasn't barking at her. It was like he was trying to warn her of something. Trying to keep her safe.
    "What is it?"
    He barked once before spinning in a circle. When Viria didn't answer he let out a little whine, turning away from her and staring up at the sky. He barked again, the urgency in his voice turning her blood to ice.
    "What's wrong with Rabbit?" Lily asked. She was a very young girl of only nine, the Innkeeper's daughter.
    "I don't know. But he's worrying me." Here Viria raised her voice, speaking now to the dog. "Bandits, pup? Or do you scent wolves?"
    He turned and barked thrice, his eyes boring into her.
    "I'm going to get my sword. He's making me uncomfortable."
    "Do you think something's going to come and hurt us?" Lily asked fearfully, looking up at Viria.
    "I don't know, child. Probably not. But I'd like to be ready. Don't worry, though. Nothing will touch you. But why don't you go tell your father, alright?"
    "Alright Viri," Lily said, hurrying back into the Inn.
    Viria headed back to her house, into the basement. She strapped her belt on. Well, it wasn't a belt exactly. Specially made, it fit over her torso. It allowed her to hang her sword, Auri, on her back, easily reachable when she needed it.
    She left the house, and now Rabbit would not stop barking. He sounded scared. And like he very dearly wanted to tell them something important.
    "What's wrong with Rabbit?" Tonden, the Trader in the village, asked her.
    "I don't know but it's making me uncomfortable."
    Suddenly the entire ground shook. Viria very nearly fell over, barely managing to remain upright. Tonden did fall, though, and she quickly helped him to regain his footing.
    "What the hell was that?" someone shouted. Most of the village was now in the street, summoned by Rabbit's barking.
    "Earthquake? Here? We haven't had one in centuries in this area!"
    "It's not possible for an earthquake to occur here. The ground is not capable of shifting. It is possible for us to feel an earthquake from farther away, but it would have had to be a very, very strong earthquake for us to feel it."
    "Can you speak like a normal person, scholar?" the blacksmith snarled angrily.
    Then the loudest sound you had ever heard slammed down on the village. A roar, such anger in it. Such malice. Viria had to cover her ears as it reverberated through Brightsigh. Her ears had gone numb, and it took a few seconds for her to hear sounds at full volume.
    "By the gods, that was a dragon! And not just any dragon, a roar such as that. It was Arch! Aek, save us, save us!" a woman screeched.
    And chaos swept through. People began to scream and run this way and that, not quite knowing exactly what they were doing, but driven by fear.
    "It can't be Arch!" Viria gasped.
    "Have you ever heard something so loud?"
    Before she could see who had spoken another screech dropped down on them. And a sudden, strong wind sprang up. And the sun darkened. No, no, the sun didn't darken. Not possible!
    Viria looked up and saw, lo and behold, a dragon. He was the biggest dragon she had ever set eyes upon, though she had never seen a dragon before in her life. But this one was massive. Larger than any of the stories. She had heard accounts of Arch's size before, but never quite believed it.
    And she watched as from it's jaws sprang fire, and he bathed the town in it. Several buildings went up in flame. And she saw with horror as Delliah, the sweetest girl you had ever met, the healer of the town, was set aflame. The fire billowed around her. Her hair was alight, as was her flowing dress. And the screams coming from her. They were ungodly. So much pain and suffering. Wasn't possible! No, no, no!
    The way her skin burned. Her eyes held such terror and pain. She cried out for help, then for mercy, then she died.
    "Move it, we have to get out of here!"
    She turned her eyes to the speaker. It was Iffy, clothed in a full suit of iron armor and with his sword in his hand. Viria nodded and followed him as he swerved around the burning city. There were more men and woman on fire, and even more lying dead on the ground.
    But there were also many fleeing. Running away. All the while the dragon flew around the village, and you would hear as the fire sprang from his jaws. The wind from his massive wings made it difficult to stay on your feet.
    She was going to keep going when she saw Lily at the door of the Inn. It was steadily burning, but the little girl was standing still on the steps.
    "Please, Daddy's still in there!" she howled. Rabbit had his teeth in the bottom of her dress, whining and pulling lightly. But Lily wouldn't move.
    Viria readied herself to jump in when she felt a hand on her shoulder, holding her back.
    "Don't be a fool, girl. You are absolutely not going in there. You would surely die."
    "Come on, Lily, we have to leave. Now," Viria said commandingly. She might not be able to go in after Enon, but she wasn't about to let Lily die standing around waiting for her father.
    "But Daddy, I can't leave him!"
    "We have to go now, okay."
    "But-"
    "Now, or would you rather be lit up by Arch?"
    Lily seemed terrified at the thought, but followed as her and Iffy set off again. They did well to match her pace, but though Lily was driven by fear she was not that fast. Especially not with the buffeting winds nearly knocking her down every couple of seconds, and when she had to put her hands over her ears.
    "Oh for the Gods' sake," Iffy grumbled, bending down and swinging Lily up into his arms.
    They continued on, much faster now. There were many others with them, of course. Whoever was able to get away certainly did. Even if they had absolutely no possessions. They were not about to die.
    Suddenly Viria stopped and turned back to the burning city. It was off in the distance now. But she could see the unnaturally bright orange glow, and the dark black smoke curling up in the air. And every so often she caught sight of Arch, flying into and out of the black cloud. Fire still coming from his mouth.
    It couldn't be possible. Her entire life. Gone. The place she had grown up. The only thing she knew in the world.

Viria found herself, and the rest of the refugees from Brightsigh, in the next city over. Jaydown. It was another small little village. It was in an open field. There was the Imperial Road, though, that lead right through the city. Jaydown also had a chapel to the gods, something that Brightsigh lacked. There was also a river running through the center. It divided the camp where most of the refugees had set themselves up and the actual city. Though everyone was trying to help the people that had lost their home.
    "Kunni, have you seen Eunum or my Mother?" Viria asked the elderly woman. She had white hair and a wrinkly face. She had lived many years, and had been the oldest in the village. She had taken it upon herself to list the confirmed dead and the missing.
    "I'm sorry, child, but I have not. I don't mean to be harsh, but I wouldn't hold out much hope. If they aren't here, well. The other closest city to ours was nearly three miles farther than Jaydown."
    "I can't give up. Not yet. They could be here! They have to be."
    "Viria, you are no fool." She recognized Iffy's voice behind her. He stopped beside her before continuing. "They were in the lumber mill when it happened. That place would have went up like a torch."
    "Iffy!" Kunni hissed. "You don't have to be so rude! Those were her family and you speak as if they might as well have been common cattle."
    He sighed. "Look, I'm not trying to be mean. But I don't want you to hold out hope for something that is so unlikely."
    Viria didn't answer. She felt as if her life was over. Or, she wished it was over. Eunum and Mother. Dead? No, they couldn't be dead. It wasn't fair. Her only remaining family. She loved them more than anything else in the world. She couldn't imagine them burning up. Their skin lighting. She remembered Delliah, and the horrible noise as she slowly burned to death. That couldn't have happened to her family.
    "I'm going back, then."
    Before Iffy or Kunni could protest a voice behind them said, "Excuse me?"
    They turned. It was a man that couldn't be more than a year or two older than Viria. He was quite handsome, with unkempt black hair that fell past his ears. He was a head higher than Viria, and had odd amber eyes. She had never seen such a color on any person, though she knew it was a common eye color for dogs and the like. Werewolf, perhaps?
    But everything quickly came crashing back. She remembered the burning city and the horrible screaming dragon, and the way he set everything in his wake on fire.
    "Yes, child?" Kunni said kindly, though her voice was weary.
    "As many as can fit are welcome to stay in the chapel. The priests and priestesses will make room, and some of your people are already there."
    "Thank you. That is very kind. We will round up the elders and children."
    "And as for you, Viria, you will stay here. There is nothing at Brightsigh for you," Iffy said to Viria, his voice stern.
    Viria felt anger rising in her gut, and a determination. She would not leave her family to die alone. "But there is. I have to know for sure. I just have to."
    "Arch might return, you know that. It isn't safe."
    "It isn't safe? Nowhere is safe! Brightsigh was supposed to be safe, and look what happened? You can't change my mind in this."
    Iffy simply shook his head, defeated. "You are too stubborn for your own good. Go then. But for the god's sake be careful and don't lose your concentration. I don't want to wake up tomorrow and find you have not returned."
    "Forgive me for eavesdropping, but are you returning to Brightsigh? What is it you're looking for?"
    "I don't mean to be rude, but this isn't for you, child," Kunni murmured.
    "I just thought I could help. I know my way around a blade and I don't know if it would be wise to go alone."
    "I don't need someone to look after me," Viria hissed.
    "I think it's an excellent idea, Viria. Don't think of it as me believing you need a bodyguard, but someone to watch your back. The road is not as safe as one would wish to believe. And if you're set on returning it would be good to have a companion."
    Even she had to agree with that. There were always more bandits about, and who knew what kind of creatures they might meet? It would be good to have someone else. Though she didn't know if she could trust this man. He seemed well and good, but there were many men who seemed well and good that turned out to be not so great after all.
    "I'll get my sword. It won't take more than a couple moments," he said before hurrying off, over the bridge and into town.
    Iffy clapped a hand on her shoulder, meeting Viria's eyes. "Look, child, I can't imagine the pain you must be feeling. But you have to be ready for anything. Don't lose your head. And remember, you can't let them flank you! If worse comes to worse, shapeshift your way out of there. I would rather see you return a coward than die a fool."
    "Of course, Master Iffy. Don't worry too much. I'll be back by morning."
    "Are you ready to go?"
    She turned away from Iffy to face the man. "Yes. Let's go. And quickly. I don't want it to turn dark before we hit the village."
    He nodded, and together they set off. Back across the bridge, through the city bustling with busy villagers and refugees. Across the Imperial Highway and onto a dirt road.
    "I'm Aeril, by the way. Your companion called you Viria?"
    "Yes, that's my name. I thank you for coming with me," she answered politely.
    "You don't have to answer, but why is it you're so eager to return?" Aeril asked cautiously.
    Viria didn't see any reason to hide it. "My mother and brother were not in Jaydown. I fear for them. I just… I need to know whether they made it or not. I hate this uncertainty."
    "I'm sorry. I can't imagine what it must have been like. I've only heard stories, but even so Arch sounds like such a horrifying sight. I don't know if my courage would have deserted me or not."
    "It was. Horrible. He is much larger than you would believe. Blots out the sun. Even though it seems as if the sun has gone out, though, he lights up the place with his fire. So many buildings just gone up in flames."
    "You know, we could see the smoke. It rose in the air like some big black thing. We didn't know what had happened, but had a bad feeling."
    "I don't understand why everyone lets Arch go on doing what he wants. He might be a dragon, the mightiest and most powerful that has been born, but if we band together. If we work together. You know. He is mortal. He is no child of the gods. He can be killed," Viria said angrily. How could a dragon so wicked been allowed to live for so long with no challenge from any of the Kings?
    "How do you know that? Regardless, our fear holds us back. Always has and always will. We are cowards. Would rather sit back and let someone else deal with it. Eventually someone will have to."
    "Well, I'm not going to sit back and wait for death. Cower in the shadows until someone else runs out to save us."
    "Nor will I."
    They continued on in silence for a while yet. At least a half hour of walking. They were halfway to the village. Making good time. But it was so odd. To be right beside somebody else but not saying a word. Viria felt uncomfortable and awkward but knew not what to say. Thankfully, he opened his mouth first.
    "So, you are a shapeshifter?"
    "Yes, I am. From my father. Mother was just human." Viria felt her heart give a slight squeeze. "Is," she corrected herself. For several moments Viria couldn't say anything else. Her throat felt tight and grief welled up in her chest. Her Mother wasn't dead just yet. Couldn't be. Right?
    "And you? I mean, excuse me if I'm prying, but what are you?"
    She couldn't see it, but Aeril smiled. "I'm an Elemental. Fire."
    "Really? We didn't have any Elementals in Brightsigh. Only the occasional traveler."
    "Yeah. Unfortunately, I'm not very good at it. Just a little puff every now and again. I could light a candle, if I wanted."
    "Oh. That must suck. I can't imagine if I hadn't taken to my shapeshifting. I know that Father always worried I wouldn't be able to do it."
    "Well, it's not much of a loss for me, since I never really knew what I was missing. I don't mind being as useless as a human. I trust in my battle skills to keep me alive."
    "That's a good way to look at it," Viria said, slightly shocked. If that had been her, she would have been so upset. But he took it in stride, not blaming anyone. He was much stronger than she would ever be.
    Suddenly Aeril tensed, slowing his pace. "Are those wolves?" he asked.
    Viria stopped to listen and there, faintly, a howl. She giggled. "Yes, but it's alright. They're just calling to their Pack. They mean no harm."
    He looked at her, surprised. "Can you always tell what other animals are saying?"
    "No. Just wolves. I am more in touch with them than any other animals, since I have spent a majority of my time in their form. When my father was teaching me the ways of shapeshifting, he made me shift into a wolf and sent me out to live with a Pack for a few days."
    "Really?! Weren't you scared?"
    "Not really. After I showed them I meant no harm to them, they were very kind to me. They allowed me to join their Pack and we hunted together. It was… It was nice."
    Both of them grew quiet as the village came into sight. Brightsigh.
    Their buildings had been made of wood. Now they were all burned to the ground. Blackened husks. Battered and bruised. There was no more smoke. But there were bodies. Charred. No skin, no clothes, just brown wrinkled things that roughly had the shape of a human. She wondered who they were.
    Viria disregarded Aeril now, hurrying up the path. Coming to where the bridge was she found it gone. It had been wooden, so it was most likely burned up now. She splashed into the river, hurrying across.
    "Where are you going?" Aeril called, confused.
    As she pulled herself up the other side she turned back. "There used to be a bridge here. This little island is where the lumber mill was. My Mother and brother worked there."
    Ever so slowly he lowered himself into the river, making his way across. Slow-slug. Viria turned and hurried away. She heard Aeril pick up the pace, the water sloshing loudly around his ankles.
    Viria pushed open the door of the lumber mill. Well, more like she pushed it lightly and it fell off it's hinges and onto the ground. The place was surprisingly well intact. There were spots where the woodwork was so black she wondered how it hadn't crumbled yet.
    And oh, the bodies. There were many. And surprisingly well kept. She could still see who they were. She could place names to the faces. It was horrifying.
    "They must have died from the smoke," Aeril murmured, suddenly beside her.
    His voice brought her back to her senses. Viria took a deep breath and steadied herself, remembering what Iffy had said about not losing yourself.
    She continued on, scanning the faces of the deceased. And suddenly, it seemed as if her world shattered. Broken into such little tiny pieces. Because there was her mother. Dead. Eyes shut tight and body curled into the fetal position.
    "Mama?" she gasped, the tears stinging her eyes. She shut them tight, bringing her hands up to her face as she sobbed.
    She slowly fell to her knees. Struggling to regain her composure. But she couldn't. Not yet. She needed to cry first. Because though she had come here to see the bodies she hadn't actually believed she would find Mother dead. In her head she had always hoped to find Mother alive. That she had been too strong for it.
    She felt Aeril's hand on her back, rubbing back and forth slowly. If Viria hadn't felt so utterly dead inside she would have angrily pushed him away. But it was nice to know that someone cared. Or pretended to care.
    Viria sobbed for a little while longer before pulling herself together. She swallowed her grief and rose to her feet. She had to be strong. Mother was gone, and absolutely would not have wanted her daughter to be so upset about it.
    "May you spend your eternity in Aek's Paradise."
    She spent a moment longer before turning away from the body and hurrying out of the lumber mill. She stopped outside, taking a deep breath. A cold wind had sprang up, pushing away the smell of smoke and death. If she used her imagination she felt as if she was back to a day ago. When everything was okay and nobody was dead.
    "Are you alright?"
    She heard Aeril's voice, sounding sincerely concerned for her. Viria felt suddenly embarrassed that this person she barely knew saw her so vulnerable and weak.
    Before she could answer the world disappeared and her mind fell into blackness.

Viria awoke slowly. She pushed herself up into a sitting position, putting a hand to her throbbing head. The ground was cold, as was the air. She felt so cold. And then, opening her eyes, she found herself in a cage. Iron bars spaced evenly apart before her. And, gazing around, found she was in a cave. There were no other cells around but the one, and it was in the smallest area imaginable.
    All around the cell were cave walls, and though the cell itself was of a comfortable (if you could call a prison cell comfortable) size, there was only the exit out and through a long tunnel lit sporadically with torches.
    Viria then saw Aeril, lying unconscious on the floor of the cave. She knelt over him and pressed two fingers to his neck. Feeling the pulse of life, she withdrew. It would be best to wait until he awoke to formulate any plans of escape.
    As she thought back to what had happened after they had left the mill, she decided that they must have been shot with poisoned darts. The poison didn't seem to have done anything but put them to sleep. At least, Viria didn't feel any other side effects besides a slightly aching head.
    Why would they have gone to the trouble to catch two prisoners? It didn't seem to make any sense to her. But there was nothing to do. No reason to think about it. At least, not until Aeril awoke.
    Viria remembered what Iffy had suggested back in the village, before the dragon. She should meditate, as it would help her concentration. And so Viria settled down, crossing her legs.
    She straightened her back, placing her hands in her lap, and consciously began to regulate her breathing. In, out. She let her mind empty. She thought of nothing. At first it was difficult. She kept thinking about her cage, and then of her Mother, Eunum's fate, and the dragon Arch. But slowly everything faded away until there was nothing.
    It was such an odd sensation. To have a blank mind. Her physical feelings of discomfort faded away. To think of nothing and feel nothing and yet not be sleeping, perfectly awake and alive.
    It was peaceful. Oddly peaceful. Until suddenly, visions unbidden sprang to her mind. She saw Arch, high up on a mountain far, far away from here. And then her brother in the shape of a mouse. She didn't know how she recognized Eunum as an animal. It was that odd dream like sense, where you know without reason.
    The visions ended, and for a while there was nothing but darkness. But Viria could not get back to the peace of the meditation. She opened her eyes and let out a yelp of surprise, jumping and hopping backwards a bit. Aeril was awake, already sitting up.
    "How long have you been awake?" she asked curiously.
    "Only just woke," he answered.
    "Well, as you can see, it seems we've been poisoned and captured."
    "Yeah," Aeril murmured, rising to his feet and walking around their tiny cell.
    Viria watched him, waiting for him to speak. He looked thoughtful as he surveyed the cage. Presumably he was thinking of ways to escape, and Viria set her mind to the task too, though she didn't rise from her sitting position. Viria couldn't think of any real solution. She could shape shift to squeeze through the bars, but she didn't know how to lockpick and it wasn't completely certain who had the key to their cage.
    "These bars are weak," Aeril finally said. "For once I'm upset I can't use my fire."
    Viria didn't answer, her brain swimming with ideas. She was a mage. She could easily disintegrate the bars. Well, not easily. Not easily at all. She would be manipulating the metal. Metal was, however, the most difficult of elements to manipulate. And besides, Aeril didn't know she was a mutt, and probably wouldn't be happy about it. She still didn't know him very well, and didn't know of his feelings towards those of mixed blood.
    "I could shapeshift through, but I don't know how to lockpick," she said to him. "And who knows who has the key. I wouldn't want to leave your side for long, especially if I don't have any weapons."
    Aeril nodded. "We stand a better chance together."
    "Do you think we could call to a guard? There must be someone nearby that's meant to keep an eye on us. Maybe we could outwit him?"
    "If there's no other option," Aeril concluded.
    They sat in silence for a while. Viria wasn't going to sit in there forever, though. It wasn't long before she felt her patience thinning. They continued to search for a while for any other possible way out, but neither could think of anything. And when they did try to call for guards, they found, to their surprise, that nobody came. Surely they wouldn't leave their prisoners by themselves?
    "I know what we can do," Viria whispered, feeling her stomach churning. It was incredibly likely he would hate her for being a mutt, and upon escape, if they did escape, he would spread her secret and she would be thrown in prison.
    She closed her eyes and brought the energy she wanted to her, pressing her hand against one of the bars. The magic had a purple energy that rolled around in her palm, and she watched as the bars of their cage slowly seemed to sag into itself before crumbling to the ground. She moved on to the bar next to it, causing it to break in the same way. This was enough for Viria to slip through, and with a bit of difficulty Aeril too.
    He hadn't said a word since she started the magic, and his face looked strained. For the gods' sake, Viria thought, can't you make your opinion known?
    Before they started down the passage he stopped her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "So, you're a mutt? A mage?"
    "Yes," she answered, straightening her back and staring into his face. She wasn't going to be ashamed of it. "My father was both and I was born with both." Growing angry and defensive she snarled, "You going to throw me back in that cage now?"
    Aeril looked surprised, his eyes wide. He shook his head. "Of course not. I was just surprised, that's all. Why didn't you say something?"
    "Because a lot of people would throw me in prison just for being mixed blood. Especially when I'm half mage."
    "Well, I don't care and it's not important now. Let's just try to find our weapons and get out of here."
    Viria didn't say anything, but she was pleased. She didn't know why, but knowing that he didn't care of her blood made her feel infinitely better. She just wondered if he was being serious, or just saying it because he knew he wouldn't be able to escape this cave alone.
    It didn't matter now. They cautiously were making their way down the passage, keeping close to the ground and alert for any signs of bandits. At the end of the long hallway Viria peered out, jumping backwards at the sight of a man in leather armor, a curved scimitar in his belt, pacing agitatedly back and forth.
    "There's one," she hissed to Aeril.
    "Keep close. When he turns I'll hurry up behind him," he whispered in her ear.
    The bandit turned his back and Aeril hurried forward, Viria right behind. Aeril pulled the bandit's sword from his sheath and ran him through the middle. Viria surveyed the room while Aeril searched the bandit. It was a small little room, with a desk and a single chest.
    She picked up a book and, curious, began to flip through the pages. It was a journal, but only had several half-hearted entries in horrid handwriting. However, there were several pieces of paper that had been stuck in there. She pulled them out and, with growing distress, began to read.
    
    It has, by my knowledge, been about a day since I was captured. I remember the dragon attacking Brightsigh. I had been working that day, but Mother had sent me out for a moment. It was that moment, as I was walking through the middle of town, that Arch attacked. He dropped down upon us and I ran. Oh, how I ran. I am ashamed of myself now, but I'm sure it is only because of that reason I did not die.
    I wonder of Mother. I know she must have died, and I mourn for her. Though I really worry for Viria. Dearest sister, I know she is strong and I hope she was lucky enough to escape. These bandits, they captured me while the dragon was still raging in Brightsigh. I don't know what they want with me. But here I am, and here I stay.
    UPDATE: They returned to question me on the dragon. They knew I had lived in the village. It seems they worship Arch. Their helmets were covered in the carvings of dragons, and I saw their faces tattooed with depictions of fire and earth and great reptiles with large wings. And instead of referencing the gods when exclaiming, they mention Umba. They also seem to worship him, probably because it was him that dragons exist in the first place. They seem to believe that because I lived in Brightsigh, and that Arch attacked Brightsigh, that I am special. I am not.
    EVEN LATER THIS DAY: I am going. I am gone. These bandits are dull and I know that I can escape in the form of a mole, or perhaps a badger. I hope they read this and I hope they cry.

    "What is it?" Aeril asked worriedly.
    Viria didn't answer at first. She could feel herself trembling, and her mind was whirring. Eunum was alive? And he had been here too, and it couldn't have been but just after Viria herself had been captured. Where was he now? Had he gotten away?
    "Viria, what is it?"
    "Eunum, my brother, he was here!" she gasped, her words coming breathless.
    "He was? Are you sure?" Aeril asked, his voice bright with surprise.
    "I'm sure. He mentions me. His sister. I.." her voice cracked. "He's gone now. He escaped with his shapeshifting. We were so close."
    "He might still be in the area. We can't have been out for more than a day or two. We'll find him."
    "If we can get out of this cave first. Did you find any weapons for me?"
    Aeril smiled. "Even better. I found all our gear. It's on the far wall, hanging up on the weapon stand." He tossed his thumb over his shoulder, and Viria caught sight of her sword.
    "Ah, Auri, love," she sighed, grasping the hilt and raising the blade to her face. She could see her reflection, and it didn't look too pretty. She placed a hand on the flat of the metal, running it along the length.
    "Auri?"
    "Oh, sorry. My blade. That's it's name."
    "Does it mean anything? Or named after anyone?" he asked curiously.
    "It's the name of a warrior ages past. He slew the first dragon set on our world and captured it's spirit, which he put into his own blade, imbuing it with the power of that dragon. It might just be a tale, or maybe there's some truth in it. Either way, the name has strength to it."
    "We should get going. I'd like to keep the element of surprise as long as we can, and the more we dawdle the more likely someone's going to stumble along."
    "Alright, but wait a moment. Just a moment."
    Viria hurried to the chest that was in the room and threw it open. And her prediction was correct, for inside she found her specially made sword-sheathe. She pulled it over her head and slide Auri into it's place on her back.
    "Alright, let's get out of here."
    Aeril nodded. "Keep low."
    She let Aeril lead the way out and down the passage. It was a pretty simple cavern. They came across no other passages and no other bandits. The torches guttered low and it seemed as if the place had been empty for quite some time. Finally, it seemed, the way split in two. One branched off way left, the other continued forward.
    The left passage seemed to slope upward and opened out a bit, so after a brief discussion the two decided to go that way.
    Almost immediately a bandit seemed to appear in front of them. Viria gave out a quiet little yelp and jumped backward, quickly unsheathing Auri.
    Aeril was fast, lunging with his own sword. But the bandit was quicker, and sidestepped with a shout.
    "Prisoners? Escape!" he howled.
    Aeril swung his sword towards the bandit's face, but he easily deflected the blow with his own weapon. Viria hurried forward and quickly swung Auri up in a large arc, opening up the bandit's throat. He spluttered and grasped the wound, the blood flowing thickly from his split jugular.
    "Gods be damned!" Aeril exclaimed as they heard pounding footsteps from the path ahead.
    "Stand back!" Viria said, pushing herself into the opening.
    She focused on the swirling magical energies that she could feel writhing in the far corners of the world. She could feel the fire in her hand but felt no heat. She brought her two hands together and watched as the fire grew, and waited.
    The footsteps grew louder and louder until suddenly the bandits came into sight, ten of them at least, all with weapons drawn and ugly snarling faces. She took a moment to study them as they drew closer. She could feel Aeril's tension, and he shouted at her to do something already.
    Yes, she saw the tattoos. Of dragons and monsters. Viria released the energy, pushing her hands out towards them, and away went the fire. It exploded at the bandit's feet and coated their bodies in flame. She watched as it licked it's way up their bodies, their screams filling the chamber.
    Suddenly Viria was back in Brightsigh. She saw the dragon, she heard it screech. She saw as the village began to burn, along with the people. Their skin melting away as they died in such a horrible way. Viria looked down and saw her hands covered in ash, her skin dyed gray as the lives she had taken wrapped themselves around her.
    "Viria? Snap out of it!"
    She jumped, suddenly taken from her waking nightmare. She saw the bandits were dead, their charred remains smoking still in spots.
    "Let's hurry out of here, alright? I can't imagine there are many more bandits than what we've already seen."
    Viria simply nodded, letting him lead the way down the passage. They began to slow at the sound of voices raised in anger ahead of them. Aeril dropped into a crouch and Viria did the same. As they neared the voices took shape.
    "You think you can challenge me?! You may have killed my dimwitted guards, but I am no dimwitted guard. You never had a chance. And now here you are, lying on the ground at the end of my sword point. Let me hear you beg for mercy, slut. BEG!"
    The two of them inched forward until they came to another large cavern, though this one ended here. They had taken the wrong path. Here, though, they saw what seemed to be the leader of the bandits camped here. He wore a helmet with markings that depicted a huge dragon, it's body as if wrapped around the man's head.
    And before him was another man, couldn't be older than five and twenty. Only just a little older than the two of them. The leader's sword was at his throat, and his face showed such malice and hate. He was not one about to submit.
    "We have to help him," she hissed as lightly as she could to Aeril.
    "How? Neither of us have a bow and we would never make it over such open ground without being heard, which would only get us and that man killed."
    "Don't make a sound."
    Viria straightened up, standing fully now in the entryway. She couldn't tell if the man noticed her. He seemed to have his eyes glued to the old bandit that threatened his life. Not for long. Viria pulled the magic to her. It created a purple bolt in her hand, sharpened at the end. A double-sided javelin like thing, but made of pure energy.
    She placed her left foot forward and sent the bolt singing at the bandit. Her aim was true, and it slipped between his ribs, piercing his heart. The sword fell from his grasp and the body tottered for a moment before falling forward. The man moved out of the way just in time.
    "You didn't tell me you could do that," Aeril said to her, amazed.
    "You didn't ask?"
    The man walked over to them and bowed. "I am in your debt. My name is Ion, and I must say you showed up at just the right time."
    Viria returned the bow with one of her own, though not nearly so low. "I am Viria."
    "And I am Aeril."
    "Why is it you're here?" Ion asked.
    "We could be asking you the same thing," Viria answered.
    Ion chuckled. "Yes, I suppose you could. Now, though, I think we should get out of this cave. We can exchange stories later."
    "Sounds like a plan. I'm famished," Aeril said.
    Now Ion took the lead, as he was the only one that knew the cave. He led them out, up the only path they hadn't chosen. They encountered no more trouble, though there were bodies speckled across the ground. When he noticed their confusion, Ion informed them that those were the bandits he had cut down to get to their leader, though he wouldn't say any more on the subject.
    Viria noticed that the trees around here were different than back in Brightsigh. Large redwoods towered up and above, and there was little undergrowth. There was an odd mist as the sun sank, giving the forest an eerie look.
    "Do you know where we are?" Aeril asked Ion cautiously.
    "Hmm. I believe we're near the city of Tethys."
    "Can you be more specific?" Viria asked, sudden fear welling up in her chest. She didn't recognize that city, and she knew just about every one in and around the Kingdom of Ueg, her home.
    Ion looked at her oddly before answering. "In the Republic."
    "You mean we're in Janrea?" Aeril gasped.
    "Yes? Why? Where did you think we were?"
    Aeril turned to her, his eyes just as wild as she must look. "But, there's no way! That's at least a week's journey from Brightsigh."
    "Their sleep poison would never last that long!"
    "Are you positively sure we're in Janrea?" Aeril asked, turning to Ion.
    "Of course I'm sure! You think I'm fucking lying to you?" he snapped.
    Viria placed a hand to her head, which had begun to ache again. She struggled to conjure up her last memory, but it always ended outside the Lumber Mill. Always. There was nothing else.
    "I don't understand," she murmured.
    "I think I know what happened. Those bandits in there deal in powerful potions. It's kind of how I knew them. They wanted me to make some that destroy memories. I never dealt in potions, though, and couldn't help them. They must have found someone else." He paused now for a moment.
    "Were you prisoners in there?"
    "Yes, we were. We had just woken up in that cell and escaped."
    "They must have taken you, fed you the memory lose potion, and then you awoke before they could show up, use you as slaves, then give you another dose."
    "How long have we been gone?" Viria asked, her horrified voice giving way.
    "Please, do you know how long it's been since Arch destroyed Brightsigh?" Aeril asked.
    "That little village in Ueg? That was about a fortnight ago."
    "A fortnight?" Viria screeched. But she took a breath, and remembered Iffy's words. She could feel her stomach churning and waited until it slowed and stopped. "Do you know if there's any way we can get our memories back?"
    "There is a way. If you're a mage, I can teach you, but I can't cast the spell myself. First we should get away from here. I have a camp set up a little ways off, in a pretty well concealed cave."
    Viria nodded, and they followed him as he made his way through the forest. And indeed, the cave was very well concealed. She didn't recognize it until Ion disappeared. Cautiously she followed with Aeril close behind. She felt that same way she did when meeting Aeril, that she didn't know if she could trust this Ion person. She might have saved his life, but for the truly wicked that wouldn't matter. And the truly wicked are very good actors.
    But they had no choice. They were completely helpless now. And she hated it.
    "So, what are you?" Aeril said bluntly as they all settled down.
    "I'm a warlock. I know little of potion and curse-making, but I am very skilled in the old magics. And what are you two?"
    "I'm a…." Viria hesitated, glancing at Aeril. He looked just as worried as her, but nodded his head lightly. "mage."
    "And I'm a fire elemental, though I can't perform any of the ability."
    "A shame," Ion said, though it seemed to Viria he was a little disgusted by it. Was he one of them? The ones that looked down on humans for being humans? Viria couldn't say she felt much differently, but what Viria felt was more akin to pity.
    "So, this spell?" Viria prompted.
    "Oh, of course," Ion said, brightening a little. He scooted over to where Viria sat and held out his hands palms up.
    "I wouldn't really know how to explain it to you, but my Master would be able."
    "What do you mean by that? Your Master? Where is he? How could he teach Viria anything?"
    "Master is just what I call my teacher, my mentor. The person who taught me everything I know. And it's a she. My Master is long since gone, but I could share my memory of the lesson with her."
    "How would we do that?" Viria asked, her curiosity piqued. She had never heard any spells like this. But then again Viria had had to teach herself the ways of magic, much of it from a sparse collection of books.
    "You take my hands, and I'll send the memory to you. I couldn't explain to a mage how to do it, but you have to use a spell of your own to accept the memory into your mind. I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out when I send you the memory."
    "So, does this mean Viria could send me memories if she wanted?" Aeril said.
    "Sorry, but no. A mage can send a mage memories, a warlock and it's female counterpart can send each other memories, or a mage and warlock or witch can send each other memories. You have to know magic to be able to accept or send the memory in the first place."
    "Alright, let's try then." Viria placed her hands in his and closed her eyes, focusing on the magic that seemed to swirl at the edge of her senses.
    "Dore na," Ion murmured quietly.
    Viria could feel the magic as it entered through their joined hands and flow through her body. It felt different than mage-magic, but it was very similar. She could feel the memory as it tried to enter her thoughts, as if someone banging on your front door wishing to be let in. She pulled at the magical energies she could feel at the edge of her senses, but nothing she tried would work. She decided she must be doing something wrong.
    Instead she tried to dispel some of the magic in her system already, but this again did not work. She felt frustrated as she tried again, without success. Now she tried something else. She allowed her mind to empty, as if beginning a meditation, relaxing everything until her mind was blank and weak.
    And suddenly she found herself looking through someone else's eyes.
    The person before her was an old woman, though her face was hidden beneath a black hood. She was also cloaked in a black robe that covered any skin whatsoever. Even her hands were tucked in the sleeves of the opposite arm. Gray hair spilled out of the opening in the hood. And she was speaking.
    "There are many that would try to take your memories from you. There are some slavers that do this to keep their slaves complacent, and I myself mix many potions for such people. But memories, once gone, are not lost. They are simply locked away in a deep corner of your mind, one where all the bad things that you never wish to think about go.
    "Now, to regain your memories you must first believe they were lost. This is the most difficult step. If you have forgotten something, how can you be sure it was actually there to be forgotten? The magic is not very complicated, but you must have a deep understanding of exactly what you are doing. And you must be absolutely positive you wish to recover this memory. Sometimes people would rather never know at all.
    "Now, you must concentrate on your last memory before the blackout to the first memory after, and you must push away every other memory until the emptiness is the only thing left. And then, in the blink of an eye (considering you have done this previous part right), all your forgotten memories in that space of time will return to you."
    "Master," Viria heard a voice say as if it were her own, though she knew for a fact this was younger Ion's voice, and not hers. "can someone who is not a mage or a warlock do this?"
    "No, they cannot. Any other species will be stuck without this memory forever." Here she paused. "Except for if a mage or warlock were with them during this time and have memory of what happened. Then they can help the non-magic to regain his memories with his own talents."
    And suddenly she was thrust from this memory that was not her own as it abruptly ended. Ion would let her tread no further into his thoughts.
    She pulled her hands away from his and the light blue energy that had glowed now faded away. She could feel herself shaking a bit, and took a calming breath to steady her nerves. It had been odd to be in someone else's head and suddenly return to her own.
    Ion smiled at her and said sympathetically. "I know that feeling. It's weird to be in a mind that isn't yours and return. It'll pass."
    "So, do you know how to do it?" Aeril asked.
    "Yes. I just hope I'm strong enough to be capable of it."
    Ion backed away from her, settling down with his back on the opposite cave wall. "We'll be quiet now. You will need it."
    Viria nodded with a grateful smile before settling into the same pose she had used when meditating. She remembered the words of the witch robed in black. She pulled her last memories and her newest memories to her. She heard Aeril asking if she was okay, then suddenly blackness. And then waking, she first remembered the cold of the cell. She focused on that and only that. She pulled at the blackness between the two, pushing away all other memories and focusing only on those.
    It was difficult. She kept finding other memories springing to her mind though she didn't want them to. She thought of Ion and his help. She wondered what he had been doing in the cave with a sword at his throat. And she thought of Aeril, and how they were so many miles from home. And she wondered what Iffy was thinking. Was he mourning her death? Because disappearing so long she must surely be dead.
    She remembered then what Iffy had said about concentration. How she would need it or she would die from a lack of it. She set her mind on the two memories she needed, the cold and Aeril's voice, and suddenly everything came back to her.

Author's Note: These mini stories, forever after abbreviated simply as MS, are small stories that have absolutely no relation to the main story. This is simply a way for me to give a little insight into the world that the story is set in. You would not need to read this to understand the plot of my actual story, but it might clear a little confusion as to some of the smaller things. Like their religion, the setting, etc.

"Mother?"
    The Mother turned to see her son standing behind her. She smiled down at him and said, "Yes, Paul?"
    The child could not be more than ten years old. His face was set, a determination glowing in his eyes. He did not answer right away, trying to decide how he was going to word his question. "Please, Mother, Molly told me that the reason we're here is because the others hate us. That we're human and not as good as the others. She talked of a story of the gods. I wanna hear it."
    The Mother looked down seriously at her son. What he was asking for was information she was not sure she was willing to divulge. She did not believe in the gods, in the Eucan, but instead worshipped the One God. Why should she tell her son stories of a religion that was not hers? But she knew Paul well, and saw in his eyes that he would not drop this. And if anyone was to explain this to him, it would be best if it were her. As his Mother, it was her responsibility.
    "Alright, Paul, I will tell you the story."

    Everyone who follow the Eucan know that it was Aek that created humans. He shaped the men in his image and the woman in his wife, Byn's, image. And all know that the god pulled apart his own flesh and formed it around the stones of the Earth, and gave the humans a soul so they may live. Aek put them on Earth and for many thousands of years they lived peacefully. But one god, Ob, he saw something in the humans. Potential. He also saw that the humans deserved some kind of power, something, anything, for their ages of devotion, never wavering in their faithful worship of the gods.
    And Ob said nothing to Aek, but in secret he began to create something different. The creature had the same shape as a human, but it held powers that a human did not. First Ob created the werewolves, in homage to Luna, who so loved the wolves. During the night the werewolves would feel the sudden and, for one weak of mind and unable to resist the temptation, would transform into a large, wolf-like monster. They would have unnaturally long and sharp claws, as wolves do not have sharp claws at all. These werewolves would tower at nearly seven feet tall in this form, their body bulky and muscular, and they stood upright on skinny legs. They had a bad posture, slumping down a bit wherever they went, and they could run quickly when dropping onto all four paws. The werewolves would be able to resist the transformation, except for the night of the full moon, when Luna is strongest, and not a single werewolf could resist. And when no moon shines the werewolves are utterly and completely powerless.
    But still, the werewolves were strong. Much too strong. They would destroy the humans without a thought. And so Ob created the vampires. These also were creatures of the night, but in no way did they care for Luna. The vampires would have to feed off the blood of others, their skin deadly pale, with many sharp teeth. Their two canines could secrete a toxin that, when it entered Man's bloodstream, would paralyze their foes. But they were cursed, for they could never touch the light. If the glorious sun were to touch their skin they would burn and die. And the vampires were always feuding with the werewolves. Something about the two creatures simply repulsed the other. And so they kept the balance of the world.
    Next Ob fashioned the fairy and pixie people, who are completely and utterly good of heart. They are very small, and though there are more females that does not mean there are not male fairies or pixies. The fairies' magic, for the most part, is to help others. The pixies, however, worship the forests and the trees and the dirt. They live deep in woodlands and are rarely seen by foreign eyes. The pixies' magic focuses on the forest, and keeping all the growth in the forests safe.
    Ob then created the shapeshifters, Man that may shift into the shape of other mammals. However, this is only if they have the willpower. A Man may be born with the ability to shapeshift but not be able to, because in order to shapeshift you must have given up your human form and allow yourself into the skin of a creature that is not your own. Ob did this to honor the goddess Xellia, who birthed all the animals that walk the world.
    Then Ob looked to Imbec, who created the elements, and Ob created the Elementals. Elementals have the ability to wield the magic of a single element. Fire, wind, earth, or water. They are not as powerful as mages, though at this point there are no mages, because Elementals may only wield a single piece of the vast wealth of magic there is on the world. It is often you see the Earth elementals shifting rocks in mines, dangerous work to be sure. The fire elementals you often find as warriors, bandits, anything that will allow them to fight. The water Elementals live by the sea, not able to be away for long because they love it so. And the wind Elementals are drifters, just like the wind itself, they are constantly moving.
    Ob was coming to the end, and now he created the witches and the warlocks. Witches and warlocks are the same, of course, except that witches are female and warlocks male. These people know of the Old Magic, which is much different than mage-magic or element-magic. The Old Magic manipulates the mind and the world around them, and though the mage can do this too, it is much more difficult for them, and the magics have slight differences that are difficult to detect. Witches and warlocks also deal in superstition, and are able to place curses on Man in the name of the gods. They are also masters of creating potions and poisons, and their work is valued everywhere.
    Finally, though, Ob created the mages. The mages are powerful, able to wield offensive elemental magic, spirit magic, and nature magic. The mages can summon spirits from the dead to fight for them for short bits of time. Mages have the ability to heal others, knit flesh and mend bone. They can manipulate the mind, they can set a poison in your blood with a single flick of the wrist. They are often considered the most powerful of the species of Man, and that is why you must fear mages wherever you go, and know that they cannot be trusted, because how can you trust someone with so much power at their fingertips?
    Of course, their god Aek did not like this. Humans were his creation, and his best creation. And Aek came to Ob and he said to him, 'You have destroyed my perfect humans, shaped them and maimed them into that which they should not be.'
    Ob responded, 'I have given them gifts they deserved after so long faithful worship.'
    Aek was not happy with his response. 'You have pushed them off their path, and with no permission from me!'
    'You would not have given permission had I asked,' said Ob.
    'That is besides the point. You will reverse this at once.'
    But Ob said defiantly, 'I will not.'
    And Ob was thrown in Alkenon, prison of the gods. The bars unbreakable and their suffering eternal.
    Ob spent exactly three hundred and sixty days and nights in the prison, with Aek constantly torturing him and demanding he take the powers back. For, you see, Aek loved his people too much to kill them, even the corrupted ones, for deep down they were still humans like the others. It was during this time, when Aek was distracted, that Umba, the god of so many evil things, looked down and laughed. And Umba created something of his own, the Strigoi. They are like the vampires, but much more powerful. They hold a strength in their limbs that no other creature does. And they are evil just like him, loving only the death and suffering of others. But the Strigoi are solitary, never able to work with anyone but themselves, and that is why, for the most part, the Strigoi are only a problem to the unwary traveler.
    Back at Alkenon there came Xellia, Dee, Luna, and Imbec and Qenta too. They stood together and freed Ob from his prison. Xellia so did love the shapeshifters Ob had created for her, and Dee loved the fairy and pixies, as she is the goddess of good will and unity and that is exactly what the pixies and fairies are. Luna loved her werewolves, who worshiped her and her moon. Imbec liked that the Elementals could harness his children, the Elements. And Qenta, as the goddess of difference, so did enjoy that now the humans were not the only species of man on Earth.
    Aek came down in all his fury and would have thrown all of them in Alkenon were it not for his wife, Byn, who came down and stayed his hand. 'No, Aek, I will not allow this. The creatures that Ob created are good and successful. If you are adamant in your belief, then I will have to stand against you.' For you see, child, Byn was the goddess of both happiness and success, and she saw both of this happen when Ob created his creatures.
    And Aek could not turn against his wife, who he loved very much, and so allowed the species of Man to go on living, and he did nothing to harm them. And so, Aek decided, these were his children just as much as the humans were, and all could live peacefully on the Earth.
  
    The Mother took a deep breath as she finished her long winded tale. It was one she had heard often despite the fact she did not believe in the Eucan. The One God did not say anything on the species of man, though everyone believed that at one point humans did rule alone. No one knew what had happened to change this, and The One God did not seem to want to tell them just yet.
    "But Mother, what of the dragon-people and the immortals? Your story says nothing of them?" Paul seemed displeased.
    "The dragon-people did not come about for at least an age after the species of man, when Umba created the dragons. The dragons were simply given enough power that their ability to impregnate unsuspecting human women was just part of what they were. It is unimportant in the bigger scheme of things, since such a thing is so uncommon to begin with. And the Immortals are unknown. You know that immortals are born randomly. An immortal can spring from the child of two humans, two werewolves, vampires, or even a mixture. There is no order, and we know for a fact they are not immortal because one of their parents are god. Many believe it is just something that happened after Ob created the others."
    "The Immortals, Mama, is it true what they say about them? That they can sustain any injury and yet live? That even if their heart is pierced or their brain is sliced it will mend and they will not die?"
    "Yes. They are the true most powerful species on Earth, not the mages. The immortals can never die, and they come unexpectedly. That is why we must do what we do. It is better this way. If even one immortal were to be free, they could wreak havoc on the entire world and there would be nothing anyone could do. Does this satisfy your curiosity, my son?" his mother asked wearily.
    "Yes, it is."
    And with that Paul left, walking back out the front door to tell his friends.

She remembered being locked in the back of a wagon, pulled steadily along a road she could not see by horses she could not see. There was no light besides the meager bit coming from a small window with iron bars on the door. And there were others besides her and Aeril. About five others. One, a vampire named Maril, kept as far from the light as possible, curled in a corner with her legs to her chest.
    "These people are monsters! They question you and then they sell you away. Or they make you perform horrid acts and drop the memory loss on you."
    "How would you know that?" Aeril snarled, in high bad temper.
    "Because I have seen with my eyes. They make no effort to conceal their wicked deeds to us, because they know that soon they will use their poison to destroy our memories too."
    "Well, they won't get me," Viria hissed, pulling her knees tighter to her chest.
    "You aren't strong enough to take on these scum, especially when they make sure you are hopelessly outnumbered," the vampire said thoughtfully.
    "You are correct, of course. But I can't stand this. This helplessness. The thought that soon I could lose all my memories of these atrocities," Viria said, her voice falling to a whisper at the end.
    "It is too early to tell what will happen. Perhaps you live. Perhaps you die. Perhaps we all die," one of the others said.
    Aeril clenched his hands into tight fists, the knuckles turning white. "I won't let my fate be sealed by these abominations."
    Viria murmured quietly so only Aeril could hear, "Nor will I."
    Maril, however, had much better hearing than any others, and turned questioning eyes on them. "I can not tell if you are mere friends or lovers."
    "Keep your opinions to yourself, vile one. It would take little effort on my part to thrust you into the sunlight."
    The vampire's face grew fearful and, if possible, paled slightly, and she said no more.
    Suddenly, though, the door was opened, and the vampire hissed in fright as the light filled up the carriage, and she pressed herself farther against the wall, if that was at all possible. The man cast his eyes about until they fell on Viria, and he pointed.
    "That one there. Come with me. You have answers that I shall have."
    Viria rose without arguing, but sensed that Aeril would speak and stopped him. "I'll be fine. Just don't."
    The carriage door was slammed shut as she exited, and the sudden light hurt her eyes. The man took her to the front of the carriage by the horses, who whinnied and snorted in fright as she approached. She did not know why, but it seemed the horses were scared of everyone when they went for questioning.
    There were many more of the bandits up front, and they brandished their weapons as their leader stood before the prisoner. He was an aging man, with white hair that barely poked through the large helmet he constantly wore. He had obviously at one time been a very strong fighter, one that would give you a run for your coin. He might be aging, but that by no means meant he was weak. It helped when you also had so many bodyguards around you.
    Like the others he had many tattoos spattered across his face and arms. All of dragons and fire and frost and death. A mountain, and the symbol of the murdering god Umba, a dark black fog roughly resembling a head, with ghastly eyes and smiling mouth and a sword pierced through the skull.
    Dragon cult. She had heard tales of them but never thought she would ever meet any in her lifetime. They were always spoken of as a blemish on the world. Those that followed Umba were doomed to an eternity of servitude, and oftentimes they could not wait to join their Lord in death. Many had sprung up after the rising of Arch, the largest dragon recorded in history, and one that even other dragons would willingly pay homage.
    "You lived in Brightsigh, correct?"
    Viria hated herself for it, but she answered. "Yes."
    She had tried to resist before, refusing to tell them anything, but that only caused her pain and torture and it was too much for such stupid information.
    "The dragon, the Overlord Arch, he spoke to you?"
    "He breathed fire at me, if that's what you mean."
    "Now I'm being foolish. Arch would never deign to speak with you, foolish human."
    I am no human! Viria thought angrily. She was far above a human. She was a shapeshifter, and a mage. But no human.
    "You yourself bare the marks, but they are not the marks of Arch."
    "Tattoos do not need to be for a deity," she replied hotly.
    She remembered when the tattoos had been etched into her skin. They had used her own blood for the ink, as was customary. She remembered the pain, so sudden and hot as it spread across her face. They were styled after those of the Hero Yevit, the mage that was also a warrior, who overthrew the great necromancer Bloodkin.
    "But that is what they are meant to do. You shame your gods, girl. Tell me, though, how many of your blood died by Arch's flames that day?"
    Viria didn't want to answer. She didn't want to think about it. "Two. My mother and brother. The only family I had left."
    It was a little lie. But it was enough of one to make her feel as if she might own a bit of the conversation. She just hoped that she was telling the truth; that Eunum was still alive. He had to be. She wouldn't allow it to be any different.
    "And why didn't it kill you?"
    "Because-"
    "Because you ran, that is why. You ran away from Arch because he is almighty and you are a scared little girl. You abandoned your family because of Arch. You will remember that he is god in all but name, and worship him as he deserves! Take this one back. I can't look into this coward's eyes much longer."
    "Aw, gonna let the pretty one go? I wanted to have some fun," one of them whined.
    "For Umba's sake, not now you whore! When we make camp you can pick from any of the woman. Take this one back."
    Viria didn't let her pain show. She was no coward! But then, wasn't she? She had left her family. She hadn't even thought about them or their safety as she fled the city. And she felt such disgust at the thought of them 'having fun' with her. Not today, not any day. She would rather die first.
    The carriage door opened, she heard the vampire screech, and she was forcefully shoved inside. The darkness seemed to swallow her up, and she sat back beside Aeril, dropping her head between her knees so none could see her tears.
    Aeril seemed to understand and didn't press it, instead placing a hand on her shoulder. At this point the carriage had already been traveling for five days, and in that short time the two of them had grown close. She had forgotten any misgivings she had had about Aeril before, and they might as well have known each other for years. His comfort was much appreciated.

    The prisoners were awoken aggressively just before dawn. Viria hadn't slept much to begin with. How was she supposed to? She had been kidnapped and interrogated by crazy people who intended to use them as slaves. But still, they never woke them so early. And they certainly didn't pull them out of the carriage to just stand around. There were four armed guards standing behind them, bored and impatiently waiting for the Chief to show up.
    Viria noticed Maril was on edge. She kept looking up into the sky, twisting her head around as she watched the forest for signs of morning. Her eyes were wild and she was wringing her hands together, occasionally digging her fingernails into the palm of her hand. Viria saw drops of blood from where she had pierced skin.
    Suddenly the Chief revealed himself. He looked in high bad temper, not even having been bothered to don his helmet. The Chief paced back and forth before the prisoners that had been lined up.
    He suddenly stopped and turned to one of his men, who came forward at a nod.
    This man Viria knew was one of the more rude ones, though rude wasn't nearly as strong a word as aught to be used to describe him. He was vile. He had many tattoos spattered all across his body, little markings to commemorate the men he killed. Their blood was used as the ink. The more of these you had, it seemed, the more respected you were.
    His eyes scanned the group of prisoners, but he said nothing.
    In fact, nobody said anything. They all just stood looking at each other awkwardly.
    But the vampire was getting more and more agitated, and finally she spoke up. "Are we going to stand here all night? Surely we should get back to the carriage."
    Suddenly the man made a quick motion with his hand, and Viria heard Maril give a gasp of shock. The man was an earth elemental, and had rose the rock around the vampire's feet to keep her locked in place. She couldn't move.
    "You refused me," the man snarled. "You bitches'll learn your place."
    Maril became frenzied, shaking herself and pulling at her feet with growls.
    Then she looked to him and Viria noticed tears in her eyes. "Please, please no. I'll do whatever you want from now on, don't kill me. Don't, please, don't!"
    "Whores don't get second chances."
    "I'd like to point out that the trouble arose from her refusing to be a whore." This was the half-blood. Viria wasn't surprised he would be the one to speak up. He might not be a true vampire, but that didn't mean he wouldn't be loyal to those that were.
    "I'll gut you!" the man snarled, taking a step closer and unsheathing his sword.
    "No. You get the one," the Chief growled. "We need as many of these slaves alive or we won't make any money."
    "Please, by the gods no!" Maril's pleas had risen in volume, and she was sobbing bitterly, and had fallen to her knees.
    Viria felt such anger in her stomach. And what the Chief had said had woken something in her. He would do his best to  keep them alive, because dead they weren't valuable anymore. He wouldn't kill them unless he needed to. And Viria realized suddenly that she would much rather die than allow herself sold into slavery.
    She pulled at the magic energies, and suddenly she felt them swirling rapidly in her chest. She quickly crushed the stones around the vampire's feet and without missing a beat sprayed the two captors with frost magic. A thin layer of ice had sprung up and encased them, and for several heartbeats they would not be able to move.
    The slave line broke. The witch disappeared. The two humans bolted for the trees. The half-blood turned on the other slavers that had been guarding them. Aeril did the same, as did Viria. The one closest to her had unsheathed his sword and bared his teeth at her, swinging the weapon towards her head.
    Viria ducked beneath and in a smooth movement knocked his feet out from under him. The man fell, and Viria jumped forward to dispatch him but found she didn't need to. The man had fallen on his blade. It had sliced open his throat.
    Looking around she found that the half-blood and Aeril had killed the other two guards. The vampire had quickly taken her revenge on the man who had tried to force himself on her the night before. She was tearing into his neck with sharp teeth, and her face was bathed in his blood.
    The half-blood took a move towards the Chief, who was still encased in ice, when suddenly he broke free.
    "Guards!" he shouted immediately, backing quickly away from the escaped prisoners.
    "We need to get out of here!" the half-blood shouted.
    Maril rose from her feast, and the four of them turned around and ran.
    None of them stopped or slowed. They were powered on by adrenaline and fear. Viria could hear her heart pumping loudly in her ears, and she felt the muscles straining in her legs. She could feel the magic still in her chest, and she pulled from it and cast a strengthening spell on all of them. It gave life to their tired limbs, and though she could still feel the pangs of an empty belly she no longer felt it draining her.
    Maril ran harder, and suddenly stopped. Viria pulled up and turned to her.
    "What are you doing? We must keep going!"
    "The sun will be up soon. I can not keep going. And there," she said, pointing her finger to where the earth split open and a cave entranced yawned. "a cave. I must stop, or surely I will die. You guys can keep going."
    "No, I will not abandon you now," the half-blood said quickly.
    Aeril locked eyes with Viria for a moment. She nodded lightly, and he answered. "Nor will we."
    "If they do come upon us, then we will fight together," Viria said.
    "I appreciate it," the vampire murmured, her voice shaking with emotion.
    Together they entered the cave. The floor was made of dirt, and the farther in they went it turned to stone. Viria summoned fire into her hand and it's orange glow flickered upon the walls. They went in as far as they could before suddenly the path split into two.
    "We shouldn't continue on, or we'd risk getting lost,"
    Viria shuddered. The walls seemed to be pressing in on her, and she wondered what would happen if suddenly the stone above her head crumbled. She would be crushed, her ribs would probably break her heart would be split. But there was nothing to do now. They had to stay. Or abandon Maril.
    "Stand a little back for a moment," Viria ordered. She pulled a different kind of magic into her free hand and shot it at the floor. It was grease, which covered the floor in a small circle. She placed her fire on top of the spill, and it lit up as if there were firewood.
    "That should last a while. Keep us warm."
    The half-blood nodded thanks. "I don't know what we'd do without you, mage."
    "I have a name!" she retorted with mock hurt.
    "Sorry, but you never told me. I don't know any of your names, actually."
    "You go first, then," Viria suggested.
    "Why me?"
    "I asked you."
    "Well, I'm Enmun."
    "And I'm Viria."
    "You can call me Aeril."
    "And I'm Maril." She chuckled. "Our names rhyme."
    "Slavers," Enmun hissed angrily, clenching his fists.
    "But they worship Arch. I don't understand why they would also dabble in slavery," Maril wondered.
    "Because they're evil. People will pay good money for slaves, you know. I bet they had a good price on our heads."
    "It's not like them, though. As much as I hate to say it, they're extremely religious people, even if they're worshiping a dragon instead of the gods. They wouldn't just randomly deal in a slave trade. That would lower them to common bandits," Viria pointed out.
    "I'll admit it's… unusual. But that doesn't mean it's unheard of. Why? Do you think there was some ulterior motive to them capturing us?"
    "I don't know. They had been questioning me and Aeril about Arch and the village he burned down. Maybe they thought something. Like we had dealings with their god or, well, I don't know!"
    "No, that still wouldn't make sense. You were his victims and that's it. Arch has burned down a lot of villages, what would make you special?"
    "I don't know. I was just saying."
    "It doesn't make any sense, I'll agree. But I don't think any of that matters now. We're free, and we should pray to Aek it stays that way," Maril said sensibly.
    "Rell willing, they won't find us," Aeril murmured.
    Viria nodded. Rell was the goddess of silence and stealth and shadows, to name a few. If anyone were to keep them going by unseen, it was her.
    "We should get some sleep," Maril said suddenly. "We're going to be traveling all night tomorrow."
    "Should we post a watch?" Enmun asked.
    "That would be best. The last thing we want is for them to sneak up on us and recapture us. I refuse to go back to that carriage," Aeril said, his voice taut with anger.
    "I can do better. I'll put up some Nu; I know a good few that would keep us safe."
    "Nu? What are those?" Maril asked curiously.
    "They're little symbols that I use magic to etch into the floor. It's like a trap. If someone walks over or onto them, they go off. I know ones that paralyze the victim, set them on flame, freeze them, and just one's that make loud noises."
    "Yes, please, do that. It would be nice if all of us could sleep peacefully," Enmun said.
    "Alright. I'll use two paralysis layered with noise, and one of flame," Viria said, more talking to herself now than the others. She wished she knew more, but her books only just mentioned the Nu to begin with. It had been a struggle for her to learn the few she knew. She had had to do it with no instruction, only the knowledge that it existed. She still remembered her anger at every failed attempt, and how she hated herself as she tested to see if they actually worked.
    She rose to her feet and walked back down the passage, not bothering to make a light for herself. After she had deemed that she had gone far enough, and could just barely see by the light spilling in through the cave entrance just past the next curve, she pulled the magic to her and set down the paralysis Nu. She placed a sound Nu over it, and did the same right beside it. She set two more a little farther forward.
    It brought back the memories of when she had learned this magic. She remembered finding the mice and tricking them into walking over the little symbols etched in the dirt. When it exploded and the creature looked so terrified. It had broken her heart.
    But no. Viria pulled herself back. She remembered where she was. She remembered the slavers. They were no simple mice. But it did remind her that she would need to place even more magic on the Nu, so that they wouldn't explode just for anything. She placed restrictions on her friends, and the many mammals that weren't Man.
    She returned to the warm fire and settled gratefully onto the ground. Suddenly all of their exploits from the day came to her, and she felt such a terrible weakness. She had used so much magic, and all in the past few hours. It had been too much. She had used too much. And as she heard her stomach give a light growl she realized that if she didn't get something to eat, she might die. She had eaten just this morning, but after using so much magic, she might as well have gone a week with no food.
    Viria glanced around, but the others had already fallen asleep. She decided to follow their example.
    
    She woke quite suddenly. Just before the dragon's paw had hit her, which would have surely killed her. She was sweating and breathing hard, the horrible dream reminding her of her home and of Arch.
    "Are you alright?"
    The voice nearly gave her a heart attack, it was so unexpected. She cast her eyes about, the dying fire's light barely illuminating the party. Her eye's caught Maril's. "I guess I am."
    "Nightmares? Of the slavers? I couldn't sleep for it. Kept imagining them coming down that passage and taking me back to that awful carriage."
    "My nightmares were from before that," Viria murmured.
    "The dragon, you mean? I remember you saying. I'm sorry."
    "What for?"
    "Nothing, I guess. Just that… Well, I've never seen a dragon, much less watched it burn down my home."
    Viria didn't answer. She stared unseeing into the fire. She reached her hand out, and was about to add more fire, or maybe more grease, but changed her mind. It felt as if she hadn't eaten in weeks. She didn't know how to describe it, but that she felt weak. As if her bones had been ground paper thin and wouldn't support her for much longer.
    "So, you are a mage. Did you ever think of going to the college in Janrea?"
    "Never," Viria answered truthfully. "My family was in Brightsigh. I could have never dreamed of leaving them."
    "But there you could harness your talents, feed them and grow them. You could become so powerful, so incredibly powerful! You mages have the entire world at your fingertips. You could do anything. I don't understand; never understood."
    "Understand what?" Viria asked, suddenly feeling quite uncomfortable around this vampire.
    "You could do so much! Kings and Queens and all the nobles and soldiers would kneel before you! You could rule the world. Especially so many of you, all together, you could be so much. You could have so much power."
    "Not everyone desires power," Viria said, her voice tight. "It is that kind of talk that makes people fear us so much. It's what makes them persecute us and kill us for no reason but their own fear."
    "They should be scared." Maril simply shook her head, seeming utterly confused. "You could rise up. Create your own nation. I don't know."
    Viria felt an itch in her legs. She wanted to get up and run. She didn't like this conversation at all. It seemed as if Maril wanted the mages to rise up and take power for themselves, all because they could. She tried to change the subject. "You are a vampire. Did you live by yourself before this, or in a Clan?"
    "I lived by myself, and I was dumb. During one of my feedings I did not use my venom afterwards so that he could not follow me. He did, and found my lair, and sold the information to slavers. They came and they took me away. I had been sleeping away a full belly. Foolish."
    "Oh."
    Suddenly a loud bell-like ring echoed throughout the cave. Enmun was on his feet immediately, woken by the sound and ready to attack. Aeril woke too, but rose sleepily and seemed confused.
    "What was that?" Enmun hissed, a sword he had earlier confiscated in hand.
    "Someone set off my trap!" Viria gasped.
    Enmun set off quickly down the cave, and the rest followed. Viria lit a light, holding her flaming hand out like a torch before them.
    They found one of the slavers, paralyzed and lying motionless on the ground. His eyes were swiveling rapidly around, the only part of him that could yet move. As his eyes caught sight of them, they lit with such intense fear.
    "One of the cultists!" Enmun snarled.
    "He must have been a scout," Aeril said. "There are none others with him. They must have sent him out to look and he stumbled over the trap."
    "What will we do with him?" Maril asked curiously.
    Before any could answer, Viria felt her legs collapse and the fire went out. They were cloaked in darkness but for the light of the cultist's torch, which he had dropped after falling. Viria rose to her knees, and felt fear course through her veins as she wondered if she would survive standing.
    She had done too much. It was a mage's greatest fear. Over-exerting oneself to the point of death. If she didn't get something to eat very, very soon, she would surely die. And seeing as none of them had any food, and it didn't seem likely any could catch anything in time, it left her one option. If she had the gall to even suggest it.
    "By the gods, what's wrong?" Enmun exclaimed.
    "Are you alright?" Aeril asked, his voice laced with worry and his eyes sparking with concern.
    "I've… I've used too much magic in too short a time. If I do not eat something very, very soon the exertion will kill me. And I.. I don't think I will be able to stand. I think that would kill me just as surely."
    "What do you mean? You can kill yourself by spell-casting?" Aeril gasped.
    "Yes, it is possible. Most guard carefully against it, but I wasn't thinking clearly. After everything that had happened." She didn't say any more.
    "Well, we can find you something to eat, and you will be strong enough to travel, at least, right?" Enmun said.
    Viria simply shook her head, bile rising in her throat. "I have too little time. I can feel myself weakening even now. There is one thing that can save me, though."
    Her voice caught in her throat, and she did not continue.
    "Well, don't keep us waiting," Aeril snapped.
    Viria kept her eyes glued to the ground beneath her hands. "This man. He is here, and he would have taken us back to be sold into slavery."
    "You're not suggesting what I think you are, are you?" Enmun asked quietly, though she detected no disgust in his voice, nothing that sounded as if he thought her a monster for what she might do.
    "It is the only way left."
    "You would have to resort to cannibalism?" Aeril said.
    "If I do not eat soon, I will die. Even now I grow weaker. I can feel it. Death. I am already growing cold."
    "Then do it." It was Maril, speaking for the first time during the entire exchange. "I drink the blood of others to survive, I can not judge you here. If it will keep you alive, I see no reason why you should not."
    "Yes, you must. You saved our lives back there. If it will keep you alive, do it already!" Enmun said.
    "I couldn't bear to see you die now. Do it before it is too late."
    Viria nodded. Her voice growing stern she said, "Leave me."
    The three of them hesitated, but as one turned back towards their campsite and headed away. As soon as she was sure they were back at the dying fire, she pulled herself towards the man lying on the ground. She could see the fear in his eyes. She knew he had heard the entire exchange. He would die, so that she may live. And there was nothing he could do about it.
    That disgusted her more than anything. That he wouldn't even be able to defend himself. He had been paralyzed. It seemed such a cheap move. Something that some person with no honor would resort to. But she had to. She had to or she would die.
    Tears were hot in her eyes as she reached over and pulled the man's dagger from his belt.

Viria's eyes swept the landscape before them. To the right of the path they were taking the ground was rising up and forming a barrier. And up ahead to the left she saw the ground drop away completely. They were walking on the edge of a cliff. Though she had never been scared of heights, it was still unnerving.
    Her meal had nourished her greatly. She didn't want to think about it, and gratefully none of the others mentioned it. They went on as if nothing had happened. As soon as she was finished they left, as the sun had only recently dipped below the horizon and it had become safe for Maril to travel.
    "I don't like this. The path takes us out of the forest, away from the cover of the trees," Enmun said.
    "But the mountain will keep us from being seen. The only way anyone will spot us is if they're walking along this path too," Aeril pointed out.
    "Who knows how long this way goes? What if morning begins to come and there are no caves for us to shelter in. Maril won't have any cover."
    Viria thought it sounded like he was grasping at straws now. Why didn't he want to keep this way so badly? "What is it you're so frightened of?"
    "Frightened? I am not! This is just foolish, is all. We shouldn't be going this way. We should stay beneath the trees."
    "Look, there's nothing can be done now. We're already on the cliff. To go back would be to walk back into the slavers' hands. And we can't go right or left unless you fancy a long climb or a steep fall. We can only go forward," Maril said sensibly.
    For a long while after the group walked on in silence. The cliff became steeper, and from the looks of it the path wound on for a while yet. Viria could see out over the drop even more forests, and if she strained her eyes she could spot a small village. Smoke curled out from the chimneys, rising high into the air.
    But suddenly, it seemed, the air changed, and Viria felt extremely uncomfortable. Something like fear was stirring in her gut and she didn't know why. She surveyed the landscape, her pace slowing somewhat. Soon Aeril noticed and said, "Are you alright, Viria?"
    "No, I.. I don't know. Something feels wrong."
    "What do you mean? Do you think there are demons about?" Enmun asked, suddenly alert.
    "I don't think so. If it were demons surely one of you would sense it too."
    "Then what is it?"
    "I can't say. I think that's just as unsettling as the feeling in the first place."
    "We should just keep moving," Maril interjected.
    "You're right," Viria murmured.
    Just as she said it, Aeril hissed sharply and gasped, "They've caught us."
    Viria whipped her head around and saw them. The cultists. Many were riding horses swiftly towards them, and the Chief was at the front, looking horribly angry. Even from here she could see the tension in his muscles. Well, that was a lie. She couldn't, but she imagined as much.
    "We're lost! They've gotten us and now, if we're lucky, we'll be killed," Maril sobbed, her voice choking.
    "They won't take me. Not again," Enmun snarled, a look of fierce determination on his face.
    Viria shook her head. "No. You won't be going back," she murmured. She turned to the rest of them and said with a strength in her voice that meant she was not to be argued with, "Go. Now. I'll hold them off for as long as I can."
    "What?! No way, I'm staying. I'll take as many of the bastards down as I can!" Enmun exclaimed.
    "There's no time to argue, for the gods' sake go!"
    "You won't be able to give us enough time to escape," Maril sighed hopelessly. "If you were to do this your sacrifice would be in vain anyhow."
    "Don't argue, dammit! They'll have to travel single file along this path, I will be able to stand against them longer than you'd think. Go, NOW!"
    Enmun simply nodded, his eyes sorrowful. "I don't know what to say. Thank you. Give them hell for me, will you?"
    "I won't leave you, not now," Aeril said.
    As Viria caught his eye and the look on his face she knew that nothing she could say would change his mind. And she found she was glad. His loyalty was commendable, especially when it was to a person he had only spent a week with.
    "Come, Maril, and move yourself!" Enmun gasped, giving the vampire a little shove.
    Together they ran off down the path they had been following, sprinting with all the energy they had left in them.
    Aeril pulled one of the slaver's curved swords from his belt as they stood beside each other, watching the procession as it came closer and closer.
    Viria pulled the magic to her and formed a fireball in her left hand, and in her right the grease. She knew now that she would not hesitate to use the rest of her energy. She felt such a hatred towards the slavers. She remembered their callous torture of their prisoners, their incessant questioning, the way they looked at them as if they were worms.
    Monsters!
    They were close enough. The leading man, no longer the Chief (who had perhaps decided he was too much of a coward to face the escaped prisoners head on), was close enough. She released the grease, which splashed over him and several of the men behind. The horse slowed in confusion before Viria sent the fireball.
    The explosion gave a loud crackling noise, and the hot air spat at them as a huge blaze started up before them.

When Viria returned to the present she found she was sweating badly, and her body was trembling. She remembered the way her fire had dissipated, harming only the lead man and his horse. She remembered with horror as one of them used a powerful dispel, and the feeling of suddenly being cut off from the magic energies. How terrifying it had been. But she also remembered shifting into a bear, and how her and Aeril had taken down many of the bastards before finally being caught, shot again with a poison dart.
    "Are you alright?" Aeril asked, and she turned to him. He flinched as he caught the wildness in her eyes.
    "I'm guessing whatever it was you've forgotten isn't so pleasant," Ion said.
    "What is it? What have we been made to forget?"
    Viria felt confused at this question until she remembered that he had not regained his memories as she. He didn't know yet what had happened. Maybe it would be better if he never remembered.
    When she didn't respond Aeril said, somewhat urgently, "Tell me, Viria!"
    She looked away from him and turned to Ion. "Your Master said that I could help him recover his memories. I was with him the entire time. How do I do it?"
    "Much like you did it yourself. Instead, though, you are only helping him regain his memories, you cannot do it for him."
    "I don't quite understand, though. How?"
    "Alright, remember when I shared that memory with you? You go about it in about the same way. Take his hands and send him your version of the memory, while Aeril, you need to empty your mind of everything except for the last thing you remember before waking in that cell and the first thing you remember after waking. Even though you don't know any magic yourself and can't accept her memories, they'll be forced upon you. And your own mind will recover the bits and pieces she can't show you."
    Viria nodded and crawled over to Aeril, holding out her hands. He took them and she closed her eyes, forming everything she had just seen in her mind and pushing it outwards, trying to force it onto him.
    She did her best to keep herself focused, and didn't waver. She knew that it would be even more difficult for him. And she did her best to keep patient. She didn't know how long it would take for the magic to work, and she also didn't know how long the remembering had taken. She hadn't thought to ask. But surely she couldn't have been out for too long.
    But she was drifting off. She had to keep concentrating. She had to keep pressing.
    Suddenly Aeril gasped and jumped backwards, releasing his grip on Viria. She opened her eyes and found the same fear plastered on his face as must have been on her. By the gods, had she looked that terrified? It was as if he had seen a demon.
    "Slavers," he hissed. He caught her eye and she saw something she couldn't place. Fear? Pity? Whatever it was, it made her feel uncomfortable. Hopefully he didn't think anything worse of her for what had happened.
    "Whatever happened, we should get some rest," Ion said. "And tomorrow I can take you two to the city."
    "What for?" Viria said bitterly. "We're over a week away from home, have no money, nothing. No way of even getting back, no way of contacting anyone. There's no point of going to the city. We might as well have stayed locked in that cell."
    "Don't spew that kind of shit. You're alive, aren't you? Don't start all that self-pity, 'I-wish-I-was-dead'. If that's truly how you thought you'd have slit your own throat already."
    "Watch your mouth, witch, and show some gods-damned respect," Aeril snarled.
    Ion looked like he was about to throw some stinging retort but seemed to change his mind, and turned away angrily. Viria didn't say anything, but found herself deeply troubled by what he had said.
    She was pitying herself. Maybe more than she pitied her Mother, and all the people that had died at Brightsigh. That was not how she should be feeling, not at all. Because he was right, wasn't he? Aek had put humans on this earth, they were his greatest creation. To have been given life at all was a gift, and to throw that gift away and feel the way she did, it was heresy. It was wrong.
    Would she really rather be dead? That was certainly how she had felt moments ago. Her Mother was dead, most everyone she knew, her brother was almost certainly dead, and who knew what else. But she was alive. She had survived.
    There was so much she hadn't seen. So many sights she had only ever dreamed of. The cities in the mountains, often spoken of as some of the most beautiful sights on the planet. She had never seen the sea or traveled on a ship. She had never seen any of the battles in the Arena. No, she wasn't ready to die yet. And Ion had been right. She was being selfish.

"Wake up."
    Viria rose suddenly as something jabbed her painfully in the ribs. Ion held some meat out to her, which she took gratefully and began to eat. She immediately recognized it as rabbit. Her mother had always used it for soup, never serving it plain. But that didn't matter, and it would do no good to remember.
    She hadn't realized just how hungry she was, though. In fact, her last meal had been a full two days ago. She had never gone so long without food before, as her parents had always had a sufficient enough amount of money. It was not a pleasant feeling.
    "Where's Aeril?" she asked, suddenly realizing he was gone.
    Ion snorted, "How am I to know? Your little friend went storming off early this morning for no good reason."
    Viria wondered if he had left for good. Maybe he was done with following people around. She hoped that was not the case. She had grown fond of his company. But somehow she knew that couldn't be it. Where would he go? What would he do? Just strike off into the wilds with no thought?
    "Well, we should get moving soon. I don't know what we'll find in the city, but it has to be better than this dank old cave."
    "So, you're done whining and crying, are you?"
    "I was being selfish last night. To wish for death is to pray for Uta's hell."
    He turned away and didn't say anything else. She dug into the food she had been given, and had to remind herself to slow down. She would get a bellyache otherwise, and just because they were in the middle of nowhere didn't mean she should abandon her table manners.
    She tossed the bone onto the cave floor and rose to her feet. She was eager to get moving. She couldn't stand the sitting around. And she had never seen a city in Janrea. If half the things she heard were true it would be a site to see.
    Ion rose also. "What about the other one?"
    "I'm sure he can't have gone far. We can pick him up along the way."
    He shrugged. "Alright then. Let's move."
    "Is the city far? Will we be able to make it before dark?" she asked as the pair left the cave.
    Viria blinked in the sunlight, raising her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. It was only an hour or so after dawn, but it was a sudden difference from the darkness of the cave.
    "At least your friend gave us an easy path to follow," Ion said, pointing at the small footprints in the mud and the broken branches.
    Viria picked up her pace as she followed Aeril's trail off the path and into the forest. What had he been doing out here? Perhaps he had just needed some time alone to think. It was different for him. He actually had family all those miles away. To be torn away so suddenly must have been horrible. Even more so than it had been for her. Sure, Viria had had Iffy, and she had known everyone in the village well, but they weren't blood. She didn't actually have anything to go back to.
    She caught sight of him and hurried forward. "Aeril," she called.
    He turned and nodded in greeting as they approached.
    "We were going to start making for the city. Unless you wanted to stay a little longer?"
    "No. Let's go. I'm itching to get back to civilization. Feels like we've been hiding in the forest for too long."
    "I have to agree. Besides, I've heard the cities on Janrea are beautiful. Are they?"
    "You're asking me?" Ion asked.
    "No, you're just the only of the three people here that have even been in this country for more than a few days," Viria retorted hotly.
    Ion turned and began to head back to the path before replying with mock indignation. "Well there's no need to be mean about it."
    They reached the path and continued along, going east. She felt a little angry that they were heading even farther away from home. They should be going west. West was back to Ueg. She took a calming breath and reminded herself that the nearest city west was probably much farther away.
    "So, your tattoos. Do they mean anything?" Aeril asked, gaining Viria's attention.
    She realized that the question wasn't directed at her and instead listened curiously. It wasn't uncommon for people to have tattoos, but rarely were they meaningless. She knew that in some areas it was a mark of adulthood. In her own village it was rare for someone to get ink of their own, and Viria had trouble finding an artist to hire. It was mostly luck that she came across a woman passing through Brightsigh for business and had her tools at hand.
    "It means I've passed my Trials." He pointed to the two half star-shaped marks on the ends of his eyes. "These are to show I passed them by facing my tasks head-on, no cowering in the shadows and no fear. And these," he said, pointing now to the thick lines that ran beneath his eyes and created an angled half-spiral on his cheeks before running down his neck. "show that I passed the highest difficulty, and the bit that trails onto my neck show that I went about my tasks tactically."
    "And the red mark above your eyebrows?"
    Ion's smile fell and his voice became serious. "That is to honor the innocent man that died under my watch during one of my tasks. His blood was used as the ink. It is above my two eyebrows to show that he died by a large wound to the gut. In this case it was a greatsword that slit open his stomach."
    "They mark you for your failures?" Aeril gasped in surprise.
    "The Trials are harsh and are to mark my path into adulthood. Adulthood has horrors and sadness and we can't hide that away. But what about you, Viria? How did you get your markings?"
    "Nothing so noble as passing the Trials. I hired a passing tattoo artist is all. These are the same as the hero Yevit had, back all those years ago. My mother told me his story many times, perhaps because she was worried I would become like the man Yevit slew, the necromancer. Mother was never comfortable with my magic. But it was my favorite story."
    "That is as good of a reason as any. But what about you, Viria's friend? You have nothing."
    "Doesn't it get bothersome calling me that all the time? I've spent no more than two days with you and you haven't bothered to call me by my name once. Seriously, how much trouble is it to call me Aeril?" he asked, obviously quite annoyed.
    "Fine then, Aeril," Ion said, putting emphasis on the name. "Are you some sort of coward? Why is it you're barefaced?"
    "Just because I don't have tattoos doesn't mean anything. It's more uncommon for people to have them than not. And how would that mean I'm a coward? I simply lived in a small town with no need for such things."
    "But you're exceptional with a sword, are you not? If you had no need for such things wouldn't it stand to reason you unable to fight?"
    "What's that up there?" Viria interrupted, tilting her head and squinting her eyes at the odd shape sitting in the middle of the path up ahead.
    "I don't know. Pick up the pace and we'll see," Ion said, breaking into a run, and Viria nearly tripped over her own feet as she jogged after him.
    It was a carriage lying on it's side. Not like the carriage her and Aeril had been trapped in by the slavers. This one had an open top with benches along the side. It looked to be a transport. There was even a spot where a group of horses would be chained, though there was nothing now. Not even bodies. They did find scattered belongings. Backpacks, clothes, food lying in the dirt. There was a dog collar, some parchment paper, a single shoe.
    "What happened here?" Viria wondered.
    "I don't know. There's no bodies or anything," Ion observed, kneeling down and sifting through some of the clothes.
    Viria kneeled onto the ground and picked up a small sheet of paper. The writing was elaborate and awfully curly. She was reluctant to read someone else's letter, but it might provide clues as to what had happened.
    
    My dearest husband,
    You would never guess what happened today! The carriage was riding along just as before and a dog came running up beside the horses. He barked and his eyes held such a terror as you've never seen before. His fur was wet with blood and he was limping something horrible. The carriage driver felt so sorry for him that he stopped us and picked the poor animal up, and as we continued down the road tended to his wounds.
    He seemed quite anxious for the dog's health and though he didn't push the horses any harder he clearly wanted to reach Tethys as soon as possible. I fear for the hound, I really do, but I worry. This could be someone's dog and they might be wanting him back. Or perhaps this dog had escaped something and his Masters' need help.
    But it is too late for that now. We are already three or so miles from the spot the dog was found. I hope everything is okay. And I do hope we reach the city soon. We are so close. Should reach by nightfall.
    
    Viria dropped the parchment back onto the ground, her mind racing. Was the dog somehow a part of what had happened? But that couldn't be. A stray dog could find any number of perils in the woods. And how could a dog cause a full cart of people to go missing?
    "This woman was writing to her husband. They were supposed to reach Tethys by nightfall, and it's dated yesterday," she said.
    "So sometime from yesterday morning to before dark this happened," Aeril concluded.
    "Yes, but what is it that happened?" Ion asked, rising to his feet. "An entire carriage of people don't just disappear. But there's no bodies, no blood, nothing. No signs of a struggle, the dirt isn't scuffed, everything is in perfect order. Well, besides all this shit everywhere."
    "Magic, maybe?" Viria suggested. A powerful mage or witch could have made all these people follow them wherever they should go.
    "It would have to be incredibly powerful magic with so many people," Ion said, shaking his head. "No, I highly doubt it."
    "What do you think, then?"
    "I don't know. But there's no clues for us to follow. It would be best for us to continue to the city and report it."
    Aeril snorted. "What, so guards can take care of it? They won't do any more than we've already done. They'll write a report, gather all this stuff up, and leave."
    "Well, do you have any ideas then, smart guy?"
    "You said it yourself, people don't just disappear. They had to have left a trail. It might not be obvious, but it's here somewhere."
    "Then find it," Ion growled angrily.
    Viria dismissed Ion's horrible attitude and walked over to Aeril. She agreed with him; reporting it wouldn't do anything. And she couldn't help feeling a bubbling jitteriness in her chest as she thought of solving this mystery. It was hard to believe not so long ago she had never thought anything so exciting would happen in her life. The biggest thing on her mind had been where the next job would come from. Who would order from them next.
    "I'm not the best at tracking. What would we be looking for?"
    "Broken branches, footprints, flattened grass. Anything that will tell us where they've gone."
    Viria nodded and moved to the other side of the road, letting her eyes scan the ground. She tried to be observant, tried to look for all the little signs. But she had never been good at anything that required patience, and especially not trying to pick out such minuscule details. She couldn't see anything that Aeril had described. Thankfully, though, he had.
    "Over here, I've found their trail," he called.
    Viria hurried over to him and he pointed with his finger to the ground ahead of him and off the path. "Do you see it? A small footprint. And the branch there is broken."
    "Let's follow it then," Viria said eagerly.
    "You two are chasing shadows. You're wasting your time!" Ion said in exasperation.
    "Then don't follow. Go on to Tethys," Aeril responded.
    "Who else is going to keep you two from killing yourselves?"
    The three of them set off into the woods, following the path that the people from the little carriage had set down for them. They were surprisingly difficult to follow, considering there had to be at least six of them together. Aeril lost the way twice, and was able to regain it, once with Ion's help.
    It took them zigzagging across the forest. Once they had to double back, having followed what could have only been a false trail laid out for them. Finally, though, they came to a cave that had been carved into the mountainside.
    "They obviously didn't want to be found. I still think we should go back," Ion said.
    "Run away and let others deal with it. And you called me a coward," Aeril sighed.
    "Aren't you in the least bit curious of what happened?" Viria asked. She knew she was. There was no way she could just turn away now.
    "A bit. But if they were trying so hard to keep us away then I'm inclined to take the hint."
    She smiled and repeated what Aeril had said earlier, "Then don't follow."
    "That sounds like a challenge to me."
    She shrugged. "Perhaps."
    "Well, I can't turn back now. You've forced me to come along on this wild goose chase of yours."
    "Great job, Viria, now he's actually going to come."
    "Enough talk, let's go."
    With only a moment's hesitation the three of them entered the cave.
    It was lit by an eerie green glow that seemed to emanate from the walls of the cave itself. It became obvious that this cave was made by man. The walls too smooth, too perfect. She wondered how long ago it had been created, and for what purpose.
    "What is this light?" she wondered aloud.
    "I can answer that, actually. The walls were magically infused with this light. Whoever created this place meant to stick around. Though they're obviously gone now."
    "They had to pick this creepy green light, though? Like, they couldn't choose orange or yellow? Something natural?" Aeril asked, gazing nervously at the walls around them.
    "Wait, hold up," Ion said suddenly, raising his left hand to signal them to stop. They did. Viria was curious and looked at him with growing concern.
    "What is it?" she finally asked after several heartbeats of silence.
    "I think I can hear voices ahead. Keep quiet and move slowly. Maybe we can eavesdrop a bit."
    Viria tried to hear these voices but nothing came to her but the breathing of her companions and their quiet footsteps. They creeped forward and slowly it began to come to her, broken fragmented pieces of conversation at first. But then they all stopped suddenly, because before them the path opened up into a small cavern and there were two black-robed figures ahead. Their hoods were pulled over their heads and they were facing away from the passage out to the open air. The three of them suddenly dropped into a crouch and backed against the wall.
    "How many prisoners do we have again?"
    "By the gods, I've told you fifty times already. You just want to know so you can envision some sick fantasy of yours. They're only around for ingredients, and you know that."
    "Well well, someone's cranky." He paused for a heartbeat before continuing. "We could use them for so much more. And it always seems like we're going out for ingredient runs. I'm sick of it. Why can't we use what everyone else uses?"
    "You know why and you've been told a hundred times."
    "Whatever," he pouted.
    Viria tilted her head, wondering what in the world they were talking about. They were obviously witches, and they had taken those people prisoner. But what for?
    She jumped as she felt a jab in her side, and turned questioningly to Aeril. He nodded his head towards Ion, who seemed incredibly angry about something. He was seething. Gods, what had made him so upset?
    "What is it?" she hissed as quietly as she could.
    He turned and caught her eye, and the look in his eyes reflected the anger so evident on his face. He simply unsheathed his sword and took a pace forward. Viria turned to Aeril, and he simply shrugged, unsheathing his own weapons.
    Viria pulled Auri from her back and followed as Ion padded cautiously forward. Keeping as quiet as possible they moved forward in unison, trying to get as close as possible before attacking. Suddenly, though, the man turned and gasped, uttering a quick spell. His companion turned, but Ion had already rushed forward and before she could do anything her head was rolling onto the floor.
    The man said something and suddenly he disappeared. Viria stopped, confused. She had heard of such a spell, called a Blink, but had never used one herself. She had never figured out how to do it. It was like with the Nu spell, trying to cast something with only the knowledge it existed and nothing else. But the Blink spell could only transport you a maximum of around fifty feet. There was no way for you to suddenly turn up on the other side of the world. Any mage knew that wasn't possible.
    Suddenly she sensed someone behind her and spun around, raising her sword up. The man's half-sword clanged as it hit her own, and she saw the anger in his eyes. His eyes moved, and he was gazing over her back. She took the moment to shove him away, but before she could stab him he disappeared again with a loud shout.
    Viria saw him only when Aeril gasped and just barely was able to block the warlock's blade in time.
    He disappeared again and now Ion rose his voice. "Enough of this! Ver trebe!"
    "How dare you!" he hissed. "No matter, you'll all die!"
    Viria pulled at the energies of magic and summoned to her a spectral bow and quiver of arrows. She sheathed Auri and took aim. The arrow singed through the air, but the warlock saw it and uttered more words she didn't understand and it dropped to the ground as it struck an invisible barrier. However, it was enough of a distraction for Ion to reach the man. His sword came up at the man's head, but was easily blocked.
    Ion swung again, and again he was blocked. Their blades met in the middle and the warlock roughly shoved Ion away. Viria notched an arrow, but as the two pushed and twisted around each other she lowered her bow. She couldn't shoot without the chance it would hit the wrong target.
    Suddenly, though, the warlock's stomach was pierced. Aeril, forgotten by their enemy, had come up behind and executed an easy backstab. The warlock glanced down at the blade protruding from his middle and dropped to his knees as it slid out his back.
    "Goodnight, worm," Ion snarled, the ferocity in his voice startling. The warlock's severed head fell to the ground.
    "What was that about?" Aeril asked urgently.
    "What do you know that we don't?" Viria asked, walking up to them and dispelling her bow.
    "What they're doing," he said, his voice quivering with emotion. "Couldn't you tell?! They're going to use the prisoners for ingredients for their potions and poisons!"
    The two of them gazed blankly back at him.
    He sighed in frustration. "Some of the more powerful mixtures we create use human parts. An eye, the liver, a toe. But it's strictly against the code to harvest them from the living. You're only to use immortals. Never humans. It's against everything we go by! Everything! They're monsters."
    "We should hurry, then!" Viria gasped, horrified by what she had heard. She thought of the woman who had written to her husband, and of said husband sitting at home anxiously awaiting her return, not knowing that she had been killed and her body stripped of it's parts.
    "How many do you think there will be?" Viria asked as they were running down one of the passageways. They weren't worried about stealth now, only concerned for the lives that might be lost. It was incredibly reckless of them, in hindsight.
    "Witches and warlocks are solitary. There won't be more than twenty, and I'd be surprised if there were more than ten."
    Suddenly they skidded to a stop as they nearly bumped into four more of the witches that had been walking in the direction of the cave exit. The odd lighting mixed with an odd persistent fog had lowered visibility considerably. But they were the quicker.
    Viria completely halved the warlock she had ran into with one powerful swing, the top half of his body sliding to the floor as his legs and waist slowly followed after it. She turned to the others and found two more dead men on the floor, and Ion quickly dispatched the fourth.
    Aeril had gotten his arm cut by a quick dagger swing, but wasn't seriously hurt. In fact, Viria's extremely limited knowledge of healing magic was capable of sealing the wound, the skin easily knitting itself back together.
    "Damn, that hurts almost as much as when I got hit."
    "What did you expect? I'm stitching your flesh back together. Better than bleeding all over the place."
    He grumbled but didn't respond.
    They continued along the path, though more cautiously. None of them were eager to run straight into any more of the witches. After all, they had been lucky just now. The fight could have easily gone the other way, and they all knew it.
    The large cavern they had just entered narrowed out again, and another tunnel stretched before them. Ion took the lead, muttering some words that were clearly not English under his breath. Though Viria didn't know what the words meant, she could clearly tell that they were for some spell or other- all spells were voiced in the Old Speech, and it was definitely that. She wanted to ask him what it meant, but restrained herself. Perhaps when it was safer.
    Ion sped up. Aeril and Viria hurried to catch up, when Aeril stopped abruptly. Viria almost ran straight into him, just as he had nearly run straight into Ion.
    The tunnel had opened up into another cavern, and standing with her back turned to a table full of alchemical ingredients was a witch. She had the same dark black robes with hood pulled up that was common among witches and warlocks. Her red hair spilled out, and when she raised her head and the torchlight caught her face Viria first noticed downturned eyes.
    "So, you three are the ones that blundered in here and killed all my subjects?" she said. She had a deep voice.
    Viria opened her mouth to release a stinging retort but was cut off.
    "Don't talk to us as if we're the ones doing wrong. You're monsters! The law says that you never take from living people! NEVER!"
    "Yes, but you know as well as I that the living yield much more powerful potions."
    "That doesn't matter. Besides, there are many more ways to strengthen them. You don't need to use it from living humans," he snarled, his voice thick with emotion.
    "You are a fool, warlock. I shall kill you and your friends. But before I do, I believe I will take your eyes. Fingernails, tongue, kidney. The rest I'll remove after you die, but the best ingredients aught to be harvested fresh."
    Viria suddenly felt some power enter her mind. It pushed and strained, and she heard whispering that she couldn't understand. It was so loud, the voices slurred and speaking a language she did not know. But then she did hear it, telling her to kill herself, reminding her of all the horrors she had endured. Her worst memories, those of the dragon, were foremost in her mind. She saw her mother and her brother, dead, and the voices telling her there was nothing left to live for.
    She could feel something cold and sharp at her neck. However, she could not see. Her eyesight was blurred to the point of blindness, but she knew that it was her own blade at her throat. She felt a want to slice open her veins, end everything.
    But Viria was strong, and reminded herself that her brother yet lived, and that there was always a reason to live. She pushed at the evil force. She pushed with all the strength in her mind, and suddenly the whispers became quieter and quieter, until suddenly they were gone.
    As soon as she came back to herself she raised her hands and cast a spell that encompassed a small area around her. She glanced sideways, and Aeril's eyes were wild. She could tell that she had just released him from the same whisperings that had attacked her herself.
    Glancing around she caught sight of Ion farther away. Him and the witch were engaged in an odd battle. For moments they were both still before one would attack with sword or spell, then more stillness.
    "What are they doing?" he asked, confused.
    "It's mind magic. Witches and warlocks are the most skilled. Mages like myself find difficulty when performing it. Takes a ton of practice. I can defend myself alright, but…"
    Aeril glanced around them. There was a kind of light blue bubble surrounding the two of them, the spell that Viria had cast to keep the witch from them. She suspected it wasn't the best idea, however. The witch could now focus all her attention on attacking Ion. If they didn't hurry she might overpower him, and to lose a mind battle is devastating.
    "Let's hurry and finish this! Stay in the bubble, and don't dare shoot an arrow! Any projectile released from inside this bubble will simply deflect off of it, and if you leave the bubble then she will attack you once again with her mind."
    "Alright, then let's go!"
    The two of them proceeded forward, Aeril leading. They went slowly, cautiously, trying not to attract the attention of the two dueling creatures. Suddenly Viria flinched as if hit, and Aeril turned to her questioningly.
    "She has noticed us, and is throwing herself at the shield. It is draining me. We must hurry!"
    He nodded, and they picked up the pace. Viria began to limp for no reason, but kept up with Aeril all the same. But though she didn't show it, it was horrid. It was as if someone was slapping her over and over again, and she could do nothing but sit there and take it. How did these witches put up with it? Mind magic, she thought to herself angrily, was the most cowardly form of magic imaginable!
    Aeril didn't hesitate. The witch was barely in reach and he swung his sword. It clipped the witch's arm, and completely broke her concentration. The assault on Viria's shield, and on Ion's mind, dropped away suddenly.
    "Ah!" Ion shouted triumphantly, plunging his sword into her chest.
    Viria kicked the body as it fell to the ground, angry with the witch for what might as well have been her physically punching the mage.
    "That was annoying," Ion growled.
    "I second that," Aeril said.
    "Let's get out of this gods-forsaken cave."
    "No, there," Viria said, pointing towards a side-passage that the group had not yet explored. "I bet you anything the people they took are there, if they live at all. But we have to check."
    Ion looked away, feeling ashamed for forgetting about the reason they had entered that cave at all.
    Viria started off, hearing the footsteps of the others behind her. She did not bother to sneak anymore. If there were any more of the witches or warlocks, they would be stragglers and it was highly unlikely there be a group.
    She could see another cavern opening up. As she entered and her eyes fell upon the sight before her she recoiled, bumping into Ion behind her.
    It was littered with corpses. The corpses of regular, everyday people that had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Many of the bodies were fresh, recently killed. All of them had their eyes removed, some had their stomach open, others the chest. Blood was everywhere, and that awful smell of death.
    The worst part; there were still live prisoners, chained against the stone. They had had to watch as their companions were unfettered, only to have their bodies torn open and their organs removed from their living bodies.
    "Monsters!"
    "Hold your tongue, those aren't no witches!"
    "Please, help us! These monsters are killing everyone! Look at what they've done!"
    There weren't many left living. Only seven. The three of them set about removing the shackles. Viria quickly discovered that they were impervious to magic, and went about doing it the real way. She might not be a locksmith, but she did carry around at least a few lock picks for just situations such as this.
    It took only a few minutes for all of them to be freed. None of them were injured besides some bruises, though they hadn't eaten for a day or so. They retraced their steps back out of the cavern, helping along the former prisoners when they stumbled and keeping pace with the weaker ones. They all blinked in the sudden sunlight, gazing in wonder like a newborn child.
    "What are we to do now?"
    "You three heroes, please, where is the the city? Which direction is Tethys?" one woman asked.
    Ion pointed in a northeasterly direction. "We're actually heading to the city now. You can simply follow us. If we are lucky we will still be able to make it before sundown."
    Viria glanced up at the sky, searching for the sun between the trees. She was surprised to find they had spent nearly two and a half hours in that cave. It had felt like longer. Much longer. She had expected to come outside in the dark of night, wondering what to do.
    The large group set off, easily finding the road, and continuing on their way to the city.