Miriam Chapter 27: No-where

Walter quirked a furry brow and smiled thinly, his head tilted to peer at the mute huntress and he blinked.
"Miriam?" He asked, leaning in to observe her deadpan expression.
She snapped out of it and looked at the wizard alertly. Then she blinked forcefully and looked around.
"Where am I?" She asked. A valid question, considering last she could recall she was standing inside the cabin of her wrongly presumed father on the side of the Halvfors mountain, and she had now found herself inside a stone building of a design she could not recollect. It was a dark room and she couldn't make out any furnishing inside. Neither could she locate her dog.
"What did you do?!" She pointed a finger in Walter's direction accusingly and made to rise, having just noticed that she was sitting down on the stone floor. Miriam stopped and refocused her gaze away from the wizard to the finger she'd just pointed with. Now glowing a faint shimmering white. She jumped half a step back and rapidly shook her hand out.
"Walter! what the actual-...!"
The wizard didn't chuckle but his amused expression spoke more of his enjoyment than any laugh, the whiskers on his elderly face curling into a smug smile.
"Where? I honestly couldn't tell you the location, I am afraid its true name is lost to the likes of us." Walter began, speaking calmly but with a certain authority and smug knowing. "What I did? I took us here, don't you remember?"
She didn't. The last thing that she could remember was Walter entering the cabin with a swoop of snowy wind. Miriam was inspecting her glowing hand, getting used to the shine of it.
"No-... Why am I glowing?" She replied and then asked begrudgingly.
"I'd gladly explain the details of it, dear but I'm afraid we don't have that time. For now you may consider it a... aura. A distinguished part of your soul. So to speak." Walter nodded and stroked his beard, Miriam now took notice to the wizard, who didn't have a glow of his own, appearing just like he would normally.
"I've taken you here, dear. Because I have a certain need for your help. Now that you have been made aware of things."
"What? No!" Miriam argued. "Where are we and how do I get back?!"
Walter sighed tiredly and brushed off his large brown coat some.
"Oh dear."
"Take me back!" Miriam demanded. Now that she'd realized she had some hand in what was at play. He needed her help. So she had the power to make some demands.
"I'm afraid I can't do that."
"Why not?!"
"I need you to do something."
"Well I'm not doing anything until you tell me what's going on!" Miriam folded her glowing arms up and scowled.
Walter sighed again, shaking his head.
"Let me show you something." Walter nodded his head back, pointing toward a window at the far end of the empty stone room they were contained in. Miriam followed his gestures and went up to the window while glaring at the wizard.
"I need your help, Miriam dear. Because if we do not act this is what will happen to our world."
Miriam tip-toed and peered through the sooty window. She saw the sky first but quickly came to realize it wasn't a sky at all, there was no horizon to it and even though it was pitch black without a light there were no stars that dotted its length. The black sheet that lay over their location was distinguishable only because of the red, pointed fire that licked and danced around the edges of where the horizon would have been, but rather than looking like some faded sunset it was as if the darkness itself was on fire. A marvel beyond true description. Miriam stared at the impossibilities of space and logic with an expression of disbelief. The wizard must be playing some mind trick on her, she couldn't believe this was real. She turned to look at him next to her. And he only nodded back outside, a grave countenance and harrowed look. Miriam looked outside again. There were other stone buildings beneath the impossible sky. Just outside of the window was a city street with faded gray houses and the ruins of houses just like it that crowded the cobbled ground thickly. Many of the houses seemed built on top of each other or built into another. Standing askew and disproportionate to the neighboring estates. Miriam had to slit her eyes to make out the formations of these strange buildings and the longer that she looked the more they seemed to merge into a single gray mesh of stone with tiled roofs sticking out as corners. She had to look away and with a breath and a sudden headache stepped away from the window. Walter left her to the silence but she could feel him rearing up to speak. She beat him to it despite the growing sick she felt in her throat.
"What is all this?"
The wizard sighed out of his nose and scratched faintly through his beard.
"A cautionary tale. A testament to the cruelty of Fate. And an end you can spare our own home. If you're willing to help me?"
"I never wanted any of this..." Miriam complained quietly and shook her head in disbelief. Walter frowned, looking out through the window again.
"I'm sorry." He said, and nothing more. Guilt-stricken and saddened.
Miriam allowed the silence to pass by them as she looked down at the white glow that surrounded her body. After a moment of it she shook her shoulders out and grunted. Turning around to face the man.
"What do you need?"

They were walking across the ruined streets of the city, Miriam skipped from one cobblestone to the next as the stairwell has long since fallen into ruin. She looked up at Walter who was expecting her at the top of the stairs. Past him were the large gray ruins that stood in their huddled mesh against an outline of burning black. The sight had a certain beauty, one that was difficult to look away from but she couldn't spare staring at it. The void dark wasn't a sky, it was a veil over the city that lay flat and unmoving. Its edges aflame in the far distance and the longer you stared at it, the greater your headache became. Miriam found it difficult to focus on actual things on the ground, like rocks or old ruined debris after she'd looked at it too much. She reached up and took the hand of the wizard who helped her the last jump of the ruined stairwell. He had explained their task about as well as he could and Miriam knew that she didn't have much choice in doing it. They would travel through the city and acquire some magical artifact that Walter needed to "Save the world." As he had put it.
"But why do you need me?" Miriam had asked.
"The artifact belongs to a spirit you have a certain... connection with." Walter had said before they had left the house. Miriam now brought the subject to light again as the road stretched easily before them.
"This spirit." She said.
"Hmh?" Hummed the old man.
"I think I did magic a few weeks ago..." Miriam pondered. "Does it connect?"
Walter nodded, then stopped to think. Then he shook his head.
"A bit of both. Magic isn't necessarily inherited but in our cases bloodline does matter profoundly. The spirit we are pursuing now once made a deal of cooperation with your ancestors, as such; You can claim its belonging. As for your own magical attunement... It's only natural." He made an airy gesture with his hand, as if making light of his own analysis.
"So you knew about it." Miriam also considered asking how he had located her but figured that asking the man who could bring you to an entirely different world how he had found your location was a bit pointless.
"Not really. I could only assume after our first meeting. And hope, I suppose." Walter shrugged where he walked ahead of her. He was very nonchalant about traversing the ruined city while Miriam still expected some monster akin to the troll she and Freda had met to crash through some building's pillars, despite Walter's assurance of their safety. Miriam grunted a sigh and looked down the long path that winded down into the thick of the city. Any thoughts about her parentage, abilities or why any of this was going on had to wait. For now it was just her, Walter, and the task. One that she could at least feel some familiarity to: Traverse an empty town. Find the valuables. And leave. This. She could do.

Meanwhile...

Lars stooped down to a squat and inspected the spot where Miriam had just now stood. Scratching his cheek he pondered, then rose and went to shut the door that had been flung open mysteriously.
"Miriam?" He called out, but to no avail. Leia circled around the spot he had just been inspecting, the dog whimpering a whine with her bushy tail drooped. Lars went up to the dog, placed his hand upon her head and ruffled the shaggy dog's mane
"This is why I live alone, y' know." Said the grizzled mountain-man. Leia breathed a response with a lolling tongue and a quizzical look.

Eliana was woken by a magnificent symphony of birds chirping their morning song. The girl gently pulled the covers towards her, as her body shivered beneath the sheets. While she could feel the rays of the sun dawning upon her face, she could still not see it. Her mind wandered to the days when she would angrily mutter at the sun blinding her in the morning. But not this morning, no, today she missed it more than she had missed most things. With a silent sigh her arm moved towards the other side of the bed, finding it awfully empty. She looked around whilst steadily running a hand through her hair.

“Sekaia?” Ellie moved around in the bed as she spoke, awaiting the cocky boy to answer her soon enough. Yet there was no response. Eliana repeated herself, sitting frozen in place. He would not just leave her like that, would he? Surely there would be an explanation. Surely. The girl thought to herself with hope. Ever since Lowburg she had had such an awful fear of being left alone, especially after the loss of her sight.
Still, she ventured beyond the bed, carefully finding her ground. Again and again she repeated herself, with no answer in the now lonely room. Eliana searched for her satchel along the window, something she took her great time doing. Paranoia was slowly beginning to overwhelm her in her place. Every creek or whisper from the rooms next to theirs could cause her to jump, or at least that was what she felt. Once she finally got hold of the satchel she clung unto it and stumbled her way back to the bed.

Minutes and perhaps hours had passed, and it wasn’t until the door was opened that Eliana woke up again. She quickly rose up, peering around to no avail.
“Sekaia?” she asked as her heart began beating quicker and quicker. There was no response, nothing besides the footsteps that approached her. The girl stared towards the sounds intently. Her hands dug into the satchel, but something charged at her before she could. Something forcefully grabbed held her mouth closed as she tried to wrestle out of the grip that was keeping her locked down. Her breath became uncontrolled and swift. The person jumped on top of her, sitting on top of her stomach as it kept her down and let it’s weight keep her down. Gripped by panic she tried her best to scream for help, but the hand kept it closed, only allowing muffled sounds to escape her. She tried to scoot her way out of the lockdown, but was ultimately kept in her place.

The person finally loosened the grip, as he began a hysterical laughter. He rolled off of her and continued his warm laughter, leaving Eliana stunned in her place. It took her a moment to gather herself. She frowned heavily and rolled in the direction of the laughter, rolling on top of the man and growling angrily at him.

“What’s wrong with you?! You scared the living shit out of me!” Eliana almost shouted as she threw her hands in the direction of his face, but Sekaia simply continued his laughter, which almost got worse. “Aha-… ! Oh by the name of the One, I made Eliana Metilius curse, that has to be a first!” He seemed unphased by the sloppy punches that were thrown his way, as Ellie rolled off him with a frown.

“You’re a sorry excuse of a friend.” She angrily huffed as she went off the bed again, gathering her things with a silent anger. Sekaia sighed to himself, jumping off the bed with a skip.

“Ellie?”

Silence.

“Ellie?” Sekaia tried again.

“Ell-“

“What?” She finally answered with a cold tone.

Sekaia carefully stepped towards her, daring an embrace from behind. Though she didn’t break it, she simply stood in her place. “I just thought, that, with what’s going on right now, and with how I found you, that maybe…” He pondered for a second. “Maybe it wasn’t so bad to enjoy being alive, given that we might not be next winter, or even next full-moon, or tomorrow.” Eliana sighed at that.

“So you scared a blind girl that had been close to dying less than a month ago.” The girl was anything but forgiving.

“You were afraid.” Sekaia stated, letting go of her, to which she scoffed.

“Of course I was afraid. Being assaulted with no vision.”

“But you made it through, didn’t you? Conquered your fear and came unharmed across the bridge, no?” Sekaia began gathering his own things, listening intently.

“That’s your excuse? I’ve met brigands that came up with better explanations to assault.” Eliana made her way past him, frowning.

Sekaia watched her carefully wander outside the room, muttering to himself.

“Perhaps you’ll thank me someday.”

The high flung curtain walls dominated the entirety of the horizon ahead; the vibrant, bright vineyards and farms with all possessed different coloured plants, crops and flowers to give the countryside its mesmerizing appeal - she took it all in with a warm. Content, she smiled as the horse jostled her around in its staggered gait, tired gait.The young Kenneth, Freda's wayward squire, was silent; the entourage of Knights streaming behind the Princess perhaps being the reason to have his usually active tongue so dormant.
The road they wandered along curved around ever so with wooden fences to keep the fields separate from them. Even now, nearing winter, the sun was sweltering; beaming down upon the armoured Knights to send reflections off their freshly polished breastplates and helmets. A small dribble of sweat trickled down the Princess brow though it did nothing to hamper her excitement at the sight of home. It had been a long, gruelling march and she was not about to waste it walking and with that spurred her horse on, taking to a sharp gallop that had the men behind her startled. They set their armoured destriers after the Princess. Freda made swiftly for the great gates...

An extract from: Midway, The City of Heroes.

"Midway in-and-of-itself is truly massive, its walls ran all the way to the sea in the distance from the gate; nigh three leagues off, trailing off through through the vibrant vineyards and farmland that Midway boasted so proudly. The Kings banner flowed over the walls at all times - the battlements hanging the flag over each three protrusions on the curtain wall. A formidable defence was built up in several layers of defences, though the outer wall was the grandest of them all - it towered eighty metres high and boasted a thickness that seemed ludicrous though in truth it was merely two walls stacked up against one another, the older walls built hundreds of years past were too costly to bring down and ended up becoming the foundation and anchor for the far more sophisticated and stronger mortar and stone wall we see today. Watch-towers dotted along the great line and each bend in the wall ended in a tower though these towers were only on the front wall and were domed over in red. Red is, and has been for as long as one can remember, a very prominent theme here. The Kings banner; a flaming orange blade on a crimson field, was testament to its importance in the culture here.

The 'great-gates' as they had been dubbed were a true wonder to behold; some named them one of the great wonders of the world though it was more a jape by other nations and a pride-filled-boast for the locals. The entire depiction, in detail, was of the great unification war and the end of the necromancers. Being situated over the wood and metal coverings with great warriors, Kings long dead and evil men fought and died in an endless battle across its lavishly crafted surface. It ran in corresponding order, from the very start with the first King of Midway; who was but a noble at the time - Fredrick the Great; the unifier. He was depicted as the true hero of this art; for he truly was - he had unified the entirety of the territory Midway now holds to this very day, was the founder of the Order of the Phoenix, now one of the largest theocratic Order in the Realms of Men. Founder of the King's Conclave that organises the entire central realms and keeps peace from unity; lest the Raylian's pick at the weakest of the city states surrounding there vast Kingdoms. Midway is, and will always be, the greatest of the City States; it is the only one with enough land to boast a Kingdom after all."

______

She crested past the great gate, running her steed straight past the guards present in their distinctive armour and plume helmets- the plated warriors did not bother to stop the galloping Knights; their flaming banner more than enough to convince them otherwise. Freda made route through the city's main causeway - the houses were all the same, she thought to herself absently as the wind picked up her blonde locks. She gazed up and past the grand terrace houses all running down in a straight line towards the bridge ahead. The Anduin River ran straight through the city, running all the way down the hill to the docks and sea. Most of the old city had been long lost to the flood lands that the river tended to expand out during the season of heavy rain - it was said if one dived deep enough they would find the ruins long since sunk beneath the rising waters. Midway, at least, was all stone - built up from the flood-lands and was a true testament to the masons, engineers and builders that had constructed it after the unification wars. Each house was unique in-and-of-itself but all of them had the same theme; a white stone, dark wooden windows and doors with red linings on the frames; some houses that could afford it even had redden roofs over the standard wooden colour but this was a rarity, only the Inns and business paid the expense to appear lavish.

Freda, at any rate, did not go unnoticed for long - soon cries followed: "The Princess returns!" "Salvation has come from the flame; the Princess returns!" Within a few moments, satisfaction filled her upon the recognition, she greeted her fellow kin with a warm smile and a gentle touch of the hand, letting her gauntlet run through the crowds that began to gather on the causeway - each one raising up their bare hands to be graced with the royals touch; the Knights did not approve however and rode closer to keep the crowds from mobbing her. Kenneth, on the other hand, had his eyes where the Freda was sitting on the saddle, trying to imagine what lay beneath. As he oft did.

______



"The canals are as beautiful as I remember. This district was always my favourite." Freda turned her head to look at her Squire, trying to at least rouse some conversation from the wayward boy and it seemed to work; he was humbled and leashed well as of late.
"... They're alright. I like the docks more; it's got that sea air, you know. Not that, egh, stagnant smell you get 'ere." He nods, managing a short smile before keeping his mouth shut further. He was reserved in the face of the entourage of twenty armoured men trotting behind him. By now said entourage had neared the great Keep at the centre of the city, they followed one of the canals that was cordoned off from the Anduin river and was used for major goods transportation - most of the bridges accommodated for this by being ridiculously large and slooped upwards just so a barge with cargo could fit through unmolested. These were perhaps the only wooden structures in the entire city.

The inner sanctum of the Orders great-hall was down the hill from them though they only caught glimpses of it as the houses broke off for a crossroads and allowed gazes down through the entire city itself; the massive causeways of homes and shops, the great bazaar by the docks - the docks themselves; teaming with merchant and military vessels alike. The great cathedral was the grandest building of them all. It stood out even above the walls; the depiction of a great bird curled around its exterior - the great phoenix's wings were spread wide and dotted with gold; though it was impossible to make it -entirely- out of gold they had very well tried.
It gleamed brightly in the sun, giving off a orange hue that those of the faithful claimed was the great cleansing fires to wash away the darkness of night. It even shone in the night, though it gave off an entirely different type of light; those that the locals dubbed the guardian light. That when the fires of the day had settled, the calm moons rays would quell the land and lull it into sleep to wait for the greatness of the next day's burning fires. Freda was less than convinced but it made for a great tale. The building itself was more akin to a gargantuan tower than anything else. The phoenix clung to the building like a Dragon in its perch. The faithful were not wanton for the glory it brought their faith.

Ahead sat the great Keep, her true home in-fact; a place she could truly call home. Her entire childhood had been spent among the mighty keep of Frederick the Great and his lineage before her - his blood was in her veins and it granted her access to its majesty. The keep was much like a mini-version of the city in truth, though it was far more enclosed and no buildings were allowed near the much shorter, but still impressive, thirty metre high curtain wall that dominated the entire perimeter whilst the keep itself was situated back against the curtain wall and boasted far more formidable defences than the rest of the city. With its own personal towers, artillery posts, an elite Royal Guard regiment that's only purpose was to defend the keep let alone the Royal Guards Battlions that could be rallied up to defend the outer walls should the worst occur. It was built by a conqueror and his predecessors and it showed. It was built to withstand an attack from anything imaginable in this world - though Freda wondered how well it might stand-up to a few Trolls.

Dominating, vibrant spires shot out from main construction of the building - which was one solid keep, it resembled a castle in all respects though its beauty and surroundings were far more than just that. The portcullis was raised for and it ushered her and the entourage into the courtyard that lead to the stairwell to the plaza a few metres up-ahead. A depiction of the great founder and King - Frederick, was positioned in the middle of the courtyard; his likeness was remodelled every year Freda recalled and his gaze stretched out over all he had built and created in his lifetime - though the city was supposedly half the size in his final days.
Freda ascended the stairway, none of the far more lavishly armed Royal Guards halted the entourage of the phoenix. The horses clambered up the steps and circled around the plaza momentarily only to be greeted by her father himself; and the entire court. All of which cheered upon her arrival - the Princess' return was always a big deal for her father and he never skipped it, everyone seemed to just play along. She hated it.

The elderly man known as and titled Lord-Protector, King of Midway and the Middle Kingdoms; custodian of the central powers conclave and guardian of the Peace, Alfred Risley the third of his name. He was a man late in his sixties and had since surpassed the ability to wage war personally though he was not as frail as one might expect of a man of his age. With broad shoulders, stern and stalwart features he was a man bred of and into war. His grizzled complexion faltered at the sight of his daughter. Freda dismounted to kneel before the Lord Protector and the entire court joined her in this ceremony. The Knights, not bound by the Lord-Protector's vow, remained mounted. They were warriors of the faith and it would be seen as an affront to the gods if they did so - though Freda was a child of the blood. She had too. Alfred smiled warmly, meaning to aid his daughter to her feet and sought to clasp two hands; both which were adorned in rings and coverings of metal, around her cheeks and squeezed. His voice was always the same as Freda remembered. Sweet to her, and strong. "My beautiful warrior-child. We worried for you after all of the news we had heard from the barbaric lands up north. I am pleased to see you once again. Come! A feast is prepared for you..." He smiled and let go of her, the rest of the court rose after his words and all began to disperse as the King went to lead her and Freda's entourage inside the great Keep of Midway...

Chapter 31: Departure

The last of the crates and barrels were loaded up onto the many wagons that had been lined up along the King's Road outside of Monarch's Rise. With an agreement struck with the outlander king, it had been decided that it was no longer necessary to sit and freeze within a war camp outside of the capital city. Out of the fifteen thousand fighting men and women that had joined up with the army, only one and a half thousand were to remain and guard each road that lead to and from the city - the rest had been permitted to return home in an orderly march. At sea beyond the city, the final ships that had patiently retained a blockade around the grand capital were setting sail to return back to their home ports. What could have turned into a massive massacre had instead been resolved without bloodshed at the cost of national prestige. Word of what had transpired at Monarch's Rise would undoubtedly reach the ears of distant queens and kings, and they in turn would undoubtedly look upon the Northlands with scorn and revolt.

Yet the Northerners are a stubborn and practical people. Vengeance runs deep and cold within their veins. One day soon they would return to reclaim their capital city from the otherwordly invaders. This Leofric vowed to his men.

"It would have been at a terrible cost, perhaps even defeat." Leofric said. He sat upon his armoured warhorse that stood on a small raise in the ground, watching the large column marching by below. The northern soldiers looked weary, yet relived to be on their way home. Their halberds and spears were resting upon their shoulders in standard method while on the march, and many had their heads wrapped around in thick cloth or scarfs to better shield against the unnatural cold that had gripped the area around the capital. Next to Leofric sat Arthur upon his own destrier. He nodded.
"The odds were stacked against us. We've never faced anything like this before. It was wise to withdraw, perhaps now we can find a way to swing this into our favour."
"Let us hope so." Leofric concisely replied.

The two men turned their horses around and began to trot up towards the head of the column. Like many others, Leofric had coiled a scarf around his head to keep the warmth. His helmet hung from the saddle and his sword was tied against it as well, at his right side near the hand. Eventually he tugged down the scarf and left it around his neck, as the cold gradually dissipated in severity the farther away they marched from the city.
"What now?" Arthur inquired after moments of silence.
"I will find my daughter and take her to a safe location. The decision I have made will throw the nobility into tantrum. While I track down Josephine, you will go north in my stead and hound the nobility into line before they overreact." Leofric replied.
Arthur nodded in understanding. "I will see it done."

The column continued northwards, ever onwards. After half a day's march the force had stopped and raised camp at a ruined castle from the days of old. The morale had lifted, many of the soldiers were in a good mood knowing they were soon back at home, family and hearth.

But there was no respite for Arthur. He had gathered an entourage of mounted lesser knights to accompany him on his mission, and as twilight fell over the country the knights set off into gallop along the northern roads, intent on reaching the many domains of the nations' lords and ladies before any misinformation did.

Miriam, Chapter 28: The God of Aspiration

The staircase had become thinner as they went down it, the rows of sturdy, mashed together houses seemed to hang above their heads in twisted, distorted angles. Walter strolled a few paces before Miriam, taking the occasional turn through some criss-crossed street. She had grown somewhat accustomed to the impossible sky and improbable space around her and could focus her attention on the vague wizard instead.
"So who are you. Really?" She asked, casually rolling her once broken arm in further attempts to assure herself it was now perfectly healthy.
"Just an old coot trying to fix things, I'm afraid." Walter replied, tracing the steps of some invisible pathfinder he had while absently not looking back at Miriam.
"So you're not going to tell me." Miriam concluded drolly.
"Precisely." Said Walter gaily. "This way."And he went down another set of stairs. They'd been gradually descending and Miriam noticed that the further down they went the more claustrophobic the streets became.
"Alright. Then what about these... ancestors of mine? You said they'd made a deal with this spirit we're looking for?" Miriam frowned, asking these questions bothered her. The fact that she had to ask for Walter to explain, and the fact that she cared enough to do so to begin with.
"I said that, Miriam. Because it is the plain truth. A very long time ago the forefathers of your blood made a pact with this spirit. I had been looking for people of your... lineage... For some time already when I came across you in that cabin." Walter pondered something, then added quite glumly. "Twists of Fate, I suppose." And he sighed.
Miriam murmured and shifted her lips in general irritation. She made a turn as Walter did and they passed beneath an arch. Going further down.
"And my magic?" She asked.
"Also like I told you before, dear. Because of your family's lineage you keep a certain strength that others do not. It must have activated automatically when you were in mortal peril."
"I've been in 'mortal peril' before." Miriam sarcastically imitated the wizard.
"Another mystery to the list, then." Walter chuckled and shrugged. "Ah - We're here." He pointed as they turned another corner. Miriam stopped in her tracks to observe the building; It was round, whereas most other buildings were square with pointed roofs this one was a dome with a brass colour that stuck out of the ordinary mesh of gray buildings and black sky that had surrounded them so far. The buildings was twice as large as the regular house and stood solitary in a square which made it seem more important than the honestly simple architecture would allow. Miriam however, who had never seen a building of any real grandness beyond ancient ruins and Monarch's rise from far away thought the brass dome to be quite appealing to the eye. Very homely, she concluded. The wizard and the huntress stopped in front of this building, looked up at it and then back to one another.
"So... What do you need me to do?" The huntress asked.
"Just step inside. And get me something." Answered the Wizard.
"Get you what?" Asked Miriam. Confused and irate.
"You'll know when you see it." Said Walter, condescending and patronizing.
Miriam groaned but earned no sympathy from Walter whom simply ushered her forward toward the large wood door. When arriving at the entrance Miriam spared a brief moment to inspect it. It was made of a dark wood and it looked not only thick but without a handle of any kind. Miriam puffered a breath up at her raggedy bangs, which shone a faint blue as well, and she tried pressing her hand against the door. Noticing the door wasn't dark coloured but rather covered completely by ash she frowned, thoughts again straying to the cataclysm that must once have happened here. There was a sudden creak, by simply touching the door it seemed Miriam had opened it and she skipped back two steps while the door was slowly grinding its way open. She looked back to Walter who spared her a smile and then again airily gestured her forward. Miriam groaned and stepped inside.

It was dark at first, pitch black, in fact and once Miriam had walked inside she looked back; Noticing the door was shut again without her even taking notice of it moving. She sighed and turned forward. Blinking a few times in the darkness. There was a sound, a sort of wooshing whistle and suddenly a light appeared out of the ceiling. Illuminating the center of the dome building. There was a circular base in the center and upon it stood a pedestal, covered with a cloth. Miriam shrugged and assumed the pedestal to hold whatever Walter wanted her to retrieve. With a few wary steps she approached it, looking around served little purpose. The edges of the room were still shrouded in darkness and it reminded her of the manor in the ruined town and the undead noble. She frowned at the thought but then shook it out of her head. She'd appeared before the pedestal. Stopping and blinking her dry eyes she scratched her thick hair and then brought her hand forward. Wiping the cloth off. She blinked. The bird blinked. It had turned its neck to face her and now looked at her with wide, amber eyes. The fowl moved its talons on the wooden perch where it sat inside the dome shaped cage that stood on the pedestal and now faced her completely. Miriam opened her mouth.
"An owl?" She asked in utter disbelief, and her voice echoed through the large, empty hall. "... Owl... Owl... Owl..."
"Walter dragged me here to get him a damn bird?!" She groaned. "This is unbelievable." And her voice echoed again. "...-Believable... Believable... Believable..."
"He's going to pay for this. As soon as he brings me back to the real world." Miriam went to grab the handle that hung on the top of the owl's cage. Her voice echoed still. "... Leia... Leia..." Miriam paused. She was certain she hadn't said that. She looked around in silence. Gulped and then decided it'd be best to experiment.
"Hello?!" She shouted and waited for her echo. "...Hello... Hello... Hello Miriam." It said. Miriam froze. Her hand clutching the handle of the cage tightly. The fading echo continued as long as it was bouncing between walls.
"... Miriam... Evening... Twilight... Midnight..."
"Stop that!" Miriam shouted. "...That... That... Which you do not understand... That... That which you own..." The echo was making its own sentences with her voice!
Miriam clutched the handle of the owl's cage and quickly turned, running briskly back toward the door. The heels of her shoes clicked against the parapet floor. "Click-clack... Click-clack... Cling... King... King's Blood... King's Wayward soul..."
Miriam panted, terrified at this point. She ran to the door and pressed against it. The fowl made no objection or sound in its cage. Miriam couldn't find a knob or handle on the door. She pushed and grunted.
"Nnh...! ... No... Know... Know your Fate... Know your right..." The sound echoed. Still in her own voice.
"WALTER. OPEN THE DOOR. WALTER!" Miriam banged her free hand against the door. "... Walter..." Her voice echoed. "...Walter... Andalus... Traitor... Rebel... Usurper..."
Miriam felt the echo whisper over her shoulder, she banged against the door. Feeling her eyes dampening and her heart pounding. She resolved not to say anything more and instead slid down with her shoulder against the door until she fell against the ground. She put the cage next to her and the owl turned its head to look at her. Tilting it one way, then the other. Miriam blinked sadly and inhaled to combat the tears beneath her eyelids. The bird ruffled its feathers idly. Then hooted once. "Hoo'!"
Miriam gasped in fright.
"Hoo'..." It echoed. "Hoo'... Who.. Are you... Who..."

The halls of Tharenbrook were as mysteriously warm as ever. Even in blindness the heat and the scents caused a warm-fuzzy-feeling in Eliana. She sat by herself in a large room, unable to admire the decorations. The young Walker had only once before visited Tharenbrook, the ancient keep of the Spiritwalkers. Back then, years ago at her ceremony. It all seemed so distant now, as she sat there and contemplated. Sekaia had barely had time to say goodbye to her, once they had arrived. There were things to do. had one of the guardians told Eliana, as he guided her into the hall. No one had told her anything besides Sekaia, and it had been awfully limited.

Her blonde hair had become fairly curly lately, as far as she could feel. The minutes went by, and the familiar sensation of loneliness returned, even here, at the temple of her people. She liked to imagine the halls filled with sounds of laughter and happiness, but it had never quite been like that. There had never been time for parties, relaxing and enjoying a friends company. No, there were always things to do.
At last Ellie heard the sound of a door opening and a pair of footsteps echoing through the empty hall. She counted each step to herself until the person had arrived. A faint blue shimmer made out a silhouette of the person in front of her. It was a refreshing sight amidst all the darkness she had become so used to. The steps were lighter than Sekaia’s.

“Eliana.” A feminine voice started, as a woman clasped her hands behind her back, looking down at the blind girl. “They’ll have you now. They have discussed.” Medita held out her elderly hand to assist Eliana along. While she could guide herself by following the blue silhouette, a guiding hand was a welcome. They wandered through the hall until they reached the main door. Within, Eliana was met with five additional shimmers. From what she could sense, four of them faced her in silence, whilst the last silhouette had it’s back turned. She guessed only once who that was.

The door was closed behind her, as Medita took her leave again. Eliana stepped forward, careful as a child in the middle of the night, until the ethereal silhouettes she had become used to calling fellow Walkers were a few meters from her. The middle one turned around and took a heavy step forward.

Larnicus eyed the woman silently for a minute. He sensed her disturbed essence, a fractured mind that was bewildered, mournful and alone. The Grandmaster furrowed his brows. Even in that state, she stood in front of them. Will, he assumed. Jonius had managed to teach her something, at least. Larnicus cracked a brief smile to himself before he finally spoke. He valued his words and wasn’t a man of many. The years had taken its toll, but the Grandmaster was still respected beyond comparison. There were stories of him, so many stories.

“Do not let the young Sekaia frighten you, Eliana Metillius. He knew what he had to, but we do not blame you for the death of Jonius.” Larnicus paused briefly. “Not without evidence. Please, come sit.” The bulky Walker made his way towards the blind girl that was yet to speak, guiding her to a chair.
“Your staff?” one of the others spoke, a man as well, most likely around the same age as Larnicus, whatever that age actually was.

Eliana sighed, shaking her head. “It withered.”

“Withered.” The second man muttered thoughtfully, wrinkling his nose.

Larnicus placed his hand an inch from Eliana’s face, in the same moment as his eyes turned to the ethereal blue, and a glow forged around his hand. Even Eliana could see the blue light clearly. In fact, it had been the only thing that made it past her blindness. From the circle on his hand, the magical essence moved towards her head and surging into Eliana’s eyes. She sat still, did not protest for a second.

Pictures started swarming before her eyes; the last month before the loss of her sight. Everything went by so quickly that she could barely see any of them. Not until she saw that wretched city. Lowburg.
The entire evening went in a loop. The Grandmaster saw as she, and he wandered within her mind to find the answers he sought. Eliana was forced to see Jonius succumb to the poison, over and over again. A single memory froze before both of them. The sight of the door opening as Eliana was crawling out the window. Through the door came a blade glowing from molten heat. The picture disappeared as quickly as it had come, and Eliana once again saw only the darkness and the blue shimmer again. A single tear streamed down her cheek, but alas she was silent.

“Where were the rumours of the Nythlon ritual heard?” Larnicus turned towards his fellow Walkers, as the magic faded away again.

“We don’t know if it was a Nythlon ritual. It was drunkards shouting nonsense about heating blades.” A woman scoffed.

“And killing ‘witches’ and ‘sorcerers’. It is no coincidence. Where was it?” Muttered the old Grandmaster back.

The woman sighed. “It was in Loyton, eastern Raylia. But it is chaotic down there, Grandmaster. No one would go there willingly.”

Larnicus turned his gaze towards Eliana. “Eliana.” She froze. “I know we are in no position to ask anything of you, but so we must. The Withering is most … unfortunate.” He grimaced. “But I’ll do what I can to help you. I cannot recover what is lost, you may only pray that whoever fractured your spirit does not know how to harm you with the piece they stole.” The elderly man leaned down, inspecting the empty eyes.

“It can be recovered, but for now we’ll patch the wound.” Larnicus nodded to himself, as he gestured the others to step forward. Eliana opened her mouth to protest, but alas was too late. Each of the five began channeling energy towards her in unison. It felt as a warm embrace by a mother, a hug from a long lost friend or even a warming smile from a stranger. What was lost was not recovered, but Eliana saw again. Not as she did before, but she saw outlines of … everything. She saw people around her, the shape of their noses, the table that they surrounded, everything in the same blue color.

“What did you…?” Eliana looked around, trying to fathom this new ‘sight’.

“As I said, we patched the wound. It will not heal by itself, but it won’t bleed.” Larnicus folded his hands. “Eliana?” the man started, observing her.

“I... Would I go alone?” She looked up towards him, still not seeing a face like she did before, but it was a change for the better. To her question, the Grandmaster pondered briefly, before plainly asking her. “Can you?” His tone indicated he knew the answer already, but Eliana enjoyed at least feeling like she had a saying for a change.

“I think so, yes. But where will I go? Who will I talk to?” She got up, slightly wobbly on her feet.

“Raylia is a conflict zone right now. There are screams and shouting of a rebellion. It’s a nation on the brink of erupting. There’s a person there we’ve kept an eye on, two, in fact. They’re siblings, strangely enough. According to Medita, they’re deeply involved with the rebels. You’ll want to seek them out. Help them. Befriend them, whatever it takes. Someone down there knows of a ritual they shouldn’t. The murderers knew of you and Jonius’ arrival, they knew whom to poison. The only thing they hadn’t accounted for was the success of your escape. Those fools don’t know the powers they’re messing with, they’re attempting to steal your very being and twist it into a subject of theirs. They’re madmen. A cult. And if there is a faint chance that they’ve been to Loyton, then it’s where we’re headed.” Larnicus postured up, looking towards the markings in the ceiling.

“Take a few days to rest. If you want revenge, closure or answers, you have your chance. We’ve presented it to you, you only need to accept it.”

Eliana stood in silence. She had always been used to simply following Jonius around like a clingy little sister, but now was handed a choice of her own. It was a chance to find answers, and possibly bring justice to Jonius’ killers. But… did she want that? Did she, deeply within that fractured soul of hers, truly want that? She had to, didn’t she? If not that, then what else? What else would there be for her?

“I’ll find them. Each and everyone that had anything to do with this.” Eliana stated, almost gleefully surprised by the confidence in her voice.

“Of course. The name you’ll be looking for is Lafontairre. You won’t miss them once you’re there.” Larnicus muttered, rubbing his forehead. “They’re awfully loud.”

Miriam, Chapter 29: The Owl and the Kitten

"Who are you...?" The owl asked her. Naturally the fowl did not speak for it had no vocal chords - It was a bird. But instead it hooted and the sound bounced between the dark walls of the dome shaped building and became the sentences that Miriam heard, the result was an oppressive and unnatural voice which seemed animalistic and strangely regal. The connotations of the bird's original sound still permeated the echo but she had no trouble understanding it. She just had trouble getting a grip!
"Please stop that." She murmured, low enough not to cause an echo at all. The owl hooted.
"Who are you...?" It echoed its own echo now. Miriam had gotten over her original freak-out and wouldn't allow the magical and nonsensical to frighten her any longer, she was magic herself, wasn't she?
"I can't believe I'm doing this." She groaned and rolled her head before looking over at the owl who sat perched on its seat, feathers puffed for comfort and amber eyes staring at her with a predator's gaze. Miriam had sat the cage down next to her and sat herself against the rigidly closed door. The room around her was dark still except for the blue light that shone on the pedestal where she had first found the cage.
"Why did the door close?" She asked the air. She wasn't going to start talking to the owl just yet. There was a limit to the insanity and she rose her voice so that it could bounce across the walls and form an echo. Which as she had expected replied.
"...Door close..." Sounded her own voice. "..Close... The Door closed. I closed... The door closed." It was her own voice, distorted to speak the words her captor wanted it to. Miriam frowned and held a balled up fist against her mouth while sighing.
"Why?" She spoke resoundly, wanting the echo to catch her words.
"Why... Why...Why, to serve Fate. Of course." Miriam's echo replied. It didn't have emotion in its voice, no more than Miriam's original voice had had but she still found it amusing the way it formed sentences, whatever -it- was. Miriam opened her mouth to speak again but the owl hooted once more.
"Hoot!" It echoed. "Hoot... Who... Who are you?"
Miriam felt compelled to reply now, if only to get on some terms with whatever kept the door shut.
"I'm Miriam." She said. And looked around for the echo that vibrated to reply.
"Miriam. ... Miriam... Miriam's Marsh... Marsh the Profound... Marsh the Elucidated..." Her echo said.
"I don't know what that means." Said Miriam once the echo had died down.
"That means... Means... That means of blood... Means of daughter..." Her echo said. Miriam replied once more before the echo had died off completely. "..Daughter.."
"Are you going to let me out of here now?" Her voice blended together with the previous echo.
"Daughter...Now... -er.. Here... Let Daughter out... Dau-..lter.. Walter Here..."
"Yes. Walter is here. I'm taking this owl." Said Miriam, looking around the room at her spacious conversational partner.
"This owl... This owl..." The echo began to falter. "This owl..." Miriam looked around, it didn't seem as if it had anything more to say, or at least with that echo.
"Hello?!" voiced Miriam. "Hello... Hello... No..."
"What do you mean no?!" Shouted Miriam at the room. "No...! No...!"
Miriam angrily scrambled to her feet, her Midway coat fluttering about her as she got up.
"Screw you. I'm getting out of here." Her voice created an echo but if it was a reply wasn't important, Miriam ignored it and turned toward the shut door. She pushed against it but it would not budge an inch.
"Mpfh." Huffed Miriam and blew up at her black hair. She then threw her hand forward in that way she had seen the Black sorcerer do when he used his shadow vines. There wasn't a response. Miriam fluttered her hand about randomly as if imitating a spellcaster then thrust her arms forward. "Magic!" She said loudly and it echoed.
"Magic... Magic... Magic..."
Nothing happened. Miriam adjusted the sleeves of her coat and then flung her hair back. Looking around the dark room for a moment.
"I order you to let me out!" She proclaimed and then flicked her eyes about. It was worth a shot.
"Let me out... Out... Me out... Out of time." Her voice echoed. Miriam groaned and surrendered, instead she looked over toward the owl in its cage. It looked back at her with its round eyes and blinked once. She bent down and picked the cage up. Then the silence of the dome room erupted in a tremor and rumble of stone that had come from the wall. As if something had hit its surface.
"What the..." Said Miriam before suddenly the round wall exploded in a showering hailstorm of coloured bricks that clattered with great momentum against the floor. Out of the large plume of dust that came with the destroyed wall was a large figure that flew, no, fell through. The huge figure crashed roughly into the center of the dome and destroyed the pedestal. Miriam clenched the handle of the cage and the owl within fluttered anxiously.
"What the hell?!" Miriam exclaimed and looked over to where the wall had busted. The dust shot into itself and shaped into a singular, collected sphere of dust and plaster and there was a whirring sound of air before the large sphere suddenly shuddered and flew forward, exploding once it hit the large figure that had previously flown through the wall. Miriam smartly made some distance, still carrying the cage with the owl while looking back at the large hole in the wall. She wasn't going to try to flee until she knew it wasn't going to explode again. There was a screech and Miriam looked back toward the center, skidding to a halt. The head of a humongous bird peeped up from the cascading dust that filled the air, its beak long and pointy and its colour brown with white spots around its eyes that ran in a long stripe around the dome of its large head, almost like a circlet or a crown. The owl stretched its wings out toward its sides and Miriam noticed it had not two, but four wings. A second smaller pair that sat just beneath the regular set of wings. Due to the size of the fowl the wingspan covered almost the entire building. The bird screeched again and moved its bendable neck in recoil as a flurry of the ruined bricks were being flung toward its head. It then threw its four wings back together again and Miriam immediately lost her footing, the air pulled out from under her. She was dragged a few feet with the sheer power of the draft but could scramble up. Her owl hooted violently and shook about in its cage that was rolling speedily in motion with the wind. Miriam quickly got up and grabbed the handle, she glanced toward the monster owl who was now pointing its craning head forward, beak opened in screeching protest. Miriam ran toward the exit, it would be her best bet! And there in the still settling dust she noticed the Wizard, who when noticing Miriam stopped his hand motions and in the blink of an eye appeared out of thin air just by her.
"Miriam!" He said loudly above the screeching of the monstrous owl.
Miriam was a bit baffled to say the least and flicked her eyes from the wizard to the owl.
"Y-yeah?!" She stuttered nervously. Walter saw the cage she held.
"Get out of here! And whatever you do don't let that out of its cage!" He ushered her away and she felt more than compelled to obey. Running toward the large hole in the wall. Walter had turned back to face the gigantic bird and seemed to be flinging some spell against it, Miriam didn't pay much attention and ran straight for the exit instead! She rushed through the dust and ruined bricks and exited onto the square from where they had first come. She turned but couldn't see anything but dust inside, still making some distance. There was a sudden gust of air that exited the hole and then she spotted a large pair of amber eyes that glared into her directly. Miriam blinked and the owl in its cage purred a growl. The monstrous owl immediately shot out of the building and in one motion tapped its talons against the ground in prancing, spreading two of its four wings wide. Feathers flew about it and the creature was badly scruffed from being thrown into buildings like it had but it did not lack in speed. With no time for a reaction Miriam found herself squeezed into the grip of a talon and she lost her breath. Suddenly she felt the pressure of gravity and draft of air as a deafening woosh sounded from four giant wings being fluttered at once. Miriam clenched her eyes and her grip of the cage and felt her heart drop into her stomach as the sudden rush of elevation sprung against her. When she opened her eyes again she could see the dome building below, and the rest of the ruined city. Miriam gasped and moved for something to hold onto but found herself entirely locked in the talons of the large bird, oppressed by its grip but safely kept within. Her own owl hooted wildly and thrashed about the cage in displeasure. Miriam looked up and saw the brown feathers that were her sky now. The bird soared deftly in the black sky, occasionally using its smaller set of wings to keep it adrift. It screeched, some of its body bruised and hurt from the beating. Miriam gulped down heavily and clung to the iron cell of her fellow captive. Looking down at the sprawling ruins beneath her that were quickly becoming blurred. She would have screamed for Walter but the distance was already so large and the wind deafened all of her protests.
"Well. Shit." Said the prey.

Chapter 32: The Duke

The column of horsemen crossed the shallows with heavy hooves and ascended a small hill where they had a good overview of the verdant land stretching out before them, from one end of the horizon to the other. They had left the king's encampment half a day ago and galloped north with haste, with a mission to ensure the country's nobility were not fed malcontent information regarding Leofric's decision outside Monarch's Rise. They had arrived at their first destination - the Duchy of Midiand. A demesne that so far had not raised a hand to aid against the invaders.

"Cowards and vipers the lot of them. No doubt they sit behind their walls, whoring themselves away at their luxury while good, decent men like ourselves raise arms against our enemy." a rider spoke up with a cough. Several others nodded or muttered in accord. Not a single one objected, for none amongst the riders had been born or raised in Midiand. There was little love to be found for the duchy from anyone not born inside its borders. The duke was seen as lax and impassive to the realm's troubles and the duchess an easily tampered harlot. Unfortunately for everyone else the duke's family claim to Midiand was legitimate and stretched back many decades, so disposing them in favour of more reliable rulers had proven to be an issue.

Arthur rubbed an eye with his gloved hand and blinked sluggishly. He could see a few farms and clusters of buildings in the vast landscape before him. Far to the west raised a thick forest that contined on indefinitely, and to the east were a series of hills. Somewhere beyond the hills lay the duke's castle. Arthur pointed to them.
"There. Our good, unsolicited host resides beyond those hills. We should be there by nightfall."



Arthur and his followers trotted up to the castle gates an hour after the sun had settled beneath the horizon. The column held no banners as they approached and must have been mistaken as a group of highwayman, for a crossbow bolt flew straight past Arthur's head. Arthur raised a hand and the column stopped. They could hear laughter coming from the castle walls, at least three voices. One of them shouted out moments after.

"Who goes there, eh!? We don't want anything tonight! Unless you bring women?" More laughter resounded the walls.
"Can you believe these are the duke's men?" a knight behind Arthur spoke up quietly to his comrades.
"I can." another replied. The column laughed derisively.

Arthur glanced up to the walls and could see three men look back down. He did not see their faces for they wore helmets and the darkness shrouded the rest. Already did he loathe being near the Midiands. He approached an additional few feet. A crossbow was aimed down at him.

"Oi! Not too close lest I put the next one betwixt your eyes!"

Arthur sighed and raised a palm. "We are friends of the duke! I am Sir Arthur of the King's Guard and I must speak with your liege lord urgently!"

The guardsmen on the walls were silent and the crossbow continued to point at Arthur for an uncomfortable amount of time. He saw their heads turn as they conversed lowly with each other before finally the crossbow was raised. Two of the guardsmen disappeared while the one with the crossbow remained, leaning over the battlements.

""Why did you not just say so from the beginning, my sir?" the guardsman replied with a cold tone, void of respect that any kingsman deserved. The drawbridge was lowered and the thick iron portcullis behind it raised. The columned contined into the castle courtyard and dismounted. A few guards approached to take the horses away but they were firmly rejected by the knights. A large, bald man in chainmail and surcoat bearing the Midiand colours walked up to Arthur. On one side he carried a simple arming sword and on the other a lumberjack's axe. Both his hands were resting upon the weapons in an idle manner, or so Arthur hoped.

"What are the king's men doing here past sunset?" the bald guardsman asked cautiously. Arthur sized up the guardsman, he was about the same height as himself and carried a grizzled look of veterancy. He then looked around the courtyard and noticed that more or less every castle guard on duty, near two dozen, watched the knights while whispering between themselves. Arthur grabbed his helmet and pulled it off his head. He mustered a polite albeit forced smile to the bald man. "I need to speak with the duke." Arthur consicely replied. "And who are you?"

"Cael." the bald guard answered as politely as he could. "I am the Sergeant-at-Arms here."
"I am Sir Arthur. Take me to the duke, sergeant." Arthur nodded. The air in the courtyard was cold, and not only due to the winter.

Cael nodded begrudgingly and turned on his heels. He barked out an order and the idle, staring guardsmen sprung up to life and returned to their tasks at hand. Arthur told his men to stay in the courtyard and gave his helmet to a knight before following on behind Cael. The two men entered through two large wooden doors leading into the main castle building where the duke resided. The inside was dark, almost too dark. A handful of candles or torches were all that kept the halls and rooms lit up and Arthur had to look down at his feet on several occasions to ensure he was not about to trip over something. Cael led him up a set of stairs and stopped infront of another room, closed off by two doors.

"Wait here a moment, sir. I'll inform His Grace that you are here." Cael said and promptly disappeared through the doors, closing them behind him.
Arthur sighed and pulled off his leather gloves and tucked them in behind his belt. He rubbed an eye and spotted a mirror upon a nearby wall. He stepped over and looked into it, at himself. His armour and tabard were dirty, muddied by the strife and struggle that had followed ever since the Raylian attack on Lowburg. His short hair was equally dirty and his features weary, his eyes appearing almost wild looking. Arthur grinned to himself. It was perfect; now he got to show the duke how life was beyond the comfort of his castle and the reality they faced.

"Sir. His Grace is ready to see you." Arthur turned around and noticed Cael stand at the doors again. He had not heard the sergeant return.
"Good."

The room behind the two doors was large and lavish with curtains of different colours, exotic food and drink lined up on tables and furniture that was akin to that of the royal keep. The room was lit up by torches on the walls and Arthur could notice a couple of doorways further inside, leading into other rooms. Cael stopped in the center of the room and bowed.

"Your Grace. Here he is." Cael stepped aside and Arthur looked ahead. A large, somewhat rotound man sat upon a throne-like chair. He was dressed in rich cloth with the colours of his house, deep blue and black, with the contrast of a red cloak around his shoulders. The duke lazily rested an elbow against his chair and studied Arthur with a pair of scheming eyes. A similar chair like the duke's stood next to him, although it was empty.

"Duke Meinolf." Arthur said and bowed, just barely.
"Sir Arthur himself in the flesh." Meinolf answered with a dull tone. "I welcome you into my castle on this terrific night. To what do I owe this visit? I'm assuming it has something to do with that dreadful thing at the capital..."

Arthur straightened out his posture again into its full imposing height. He gave the duke a heedful look. "On the contrary, your grace, I am here to ensure you that there is little cause for concern regarding the safety of your demesne. We--" Arthur was suddenly abrupted as the duke stood up awfully quick for a man of his figure.

"Let me stop you right there, sir!" Meinolf hollered. "My outriders tells me that the king has dismantled his siege camp and marched north. North! That's this way! And you mean to tell me that I have no cause for concern? If His Majesty was capable of dealing with this... this enemy, he would have done so already! But instead he marches this way, no doubt to command me to lend him my soldiers for his war."

Arthur frowned. Meinolf seemed to have been quite prepared with his response.

"The situation is being dealt with, Your Grace. The king has seen what the enemy has to offer in terms of resistance and bought valuable time to prepare ourselves accordingly with."
"Bought?" Meinolf asked.
"Yes." Arthur replied with his irritation growing by the minute. Meinolf was out after something specific.
"You mean he treated with the enemy? Instead of battling them?" Meinolf persisted, his eyes widening.

Arthur seethed. Meinolf was not a military man, yet he spoke with the pretense of being accomplished in the matter.

"There are more aspects to war than just fighting, Your Grace." Arthur replied swiftly, smartly diverting the discussing away from the dangerous direction it was going, as Meinolf just gave Arthur a perplexed stare.
"Fine." the duke finally said and slowly sat down into his chair again."Then... is there anything I can do to help?"

Arthur pondered.

"Not directly. Maintaining order here and keeping the good people of Midiand safe and free of worry would be helpful enough, Your Grace."
"That's all?" Meinolf inquired.
"Yes. Unless you'd rather supply the king with soldiers and supplies?"

Meinolf abruptly shook his head but realised his mistake quickly enough and cleared his throat dismissively.

"No, I believe you are right, sir. Order and stability must be maintained here. We are next in line from the capital and my people are afraid. It will calm their nerves to see good, stout men of the sword patrol the roads and streets, ever ready to keep dark forces at bay." Meinolf smiled.

Arthur nodded again. If the duke's own guards were any template to go by, then he was more than pleased to let the Midiand army sit idle in their own province instead of risking everything at the frontline. "Glad to hear it, Your Grace. Then all is well?"

Meinolf nodded.

"Then I shall depart. I bid you a good night, Your Grace. I apologise for disturbing you with this at this hour."
Arthur bowed again and quickly turned around to leave before Meinolf could say anything else. Cael, who had stood silent at the side throughout it all, followed the knight out of the duke's petition chamber. They returned down the stairs and stepped outside on the courtyard again. Arthur took a breath of cold air and went straight to his destrier. The knight who had taken his helmet extended the headgear back and Arthur took it, shoving it back over his head.

Moments later the column of knights exited the castle gates. Arthur rode at the head of the column and steered them down the road and away from the castle. They would need to find a place to rest for the night, and as long it was far away from Meinolf and his petty band of soldiers then it was good enough for Arthur.

Still, he had the gnawing concern in the back of his head that the duke had something else up his sleeve...

Miriam
Chapter 30: Den of the beast

The hooting woke her up.
She felt the gravel, tasted it even. With a pained wince and exhaustive groan Miriam rolled her face out of the muddy floor. She let her arm fall limp off to her side and briefly recoiled at the pain in it. With forced determination she moved her aching body up and turned her stale neck to look around. Her hands were caked with mud and scraped with cuts and bruises but they still shone that strange white hue she'd been granted when Walter first took her here, she pushed her thick and wet hair away from her vision and looked around at the room she was now hosted. It looked similar to the rest of the ruined city: Its columns and walls were dark ruins plastered with sheets of ash and burnt soot but the pillars surrounded her in implication of where there might once have been a ceiling. The floor was covered in the same amount of soot and ash as the rest of the ruined city but Miriam noticed the many shards of glass that littered the floor around her. She sat up, letting out a grunt at the ache in her body from when the giant owl-monster had squeezed her and carried her away. She sat on a rug which ran thin and long through the center of the room and ended in a small regal staircase, which at the end of stood a large throne. Its frame was shaped round with jagged thorns jutting out of the top in a pattern which looked quite uncomfortable. Miriam gave the room a second scan, wiping some mud off of her face. The giant owl was nowhere to be seen which she was glad for but she'd no clue now how far it had carried her away from the wizard who was her only way back out of this infernal hellscape of a ruin she'd found herself in.
"Terrific.." She mumbled quietly for herself. Too weak to be properly upset at the moment. Not that there was anyone around to be upset at either way.
"Hoo-hoot!" It sounded off in the short distance. Miriam walked toward the similar chirping of the owl, toward an old tapestry which pattern and design was lost to both time and fire for a long time. Miriam pushed the drapes aside and beneath them found the small gilded cage she'd been abducted by the wizard to get. Inside of it sat the ruffled owl whose echoes had spoken to her about blood, kings and treachery. Miriam sighed and picked up the cage, looking at the owl who looked back and sounded a tweet of general annoyance. It didn't echo in this building and somehow Miriam doubted it would even speak to her outside of that dome-building where she'd first gotten it.
"Hey there." She said regardless and carried the cage with her as she went back to the large round room more central. There were walls around them but they had fallen apart to reveal the ruined spires of the city and the noncoloured backdrop behind them. Miriam carried the cage inbetween her arms and by instinct walked toward the prominent throne that stood at the end of the room. It wouldn't be a way out but she might as well investigate. Halfway there she stumbled on something hidden by dust and nearly tripped over. Jumping on one foot she cursed and looked down at what had clinked. From what she could tell it was some sort of large manacle, attached to a link of sturdy chains. Miriam bent down and sat the cage next to her briefly to grab the dusty chains to pull on. They rose from the ground with her tug and she noticed they ran from this manacle to the other side of the rug in symmetry. Miriam assumed it was meant to cage or contain something very large. Maybe the owl that had stolen her away. With a tired sigh she got back up - picking the cage up with her - and headed for the throne. Walking up the steps she noticed the throne itself was strangely large. Larger than any man's butt would ever require, though she took that as just another sign that whoever had lived here once were as arrogant as they were opulent. Miriam sat the cage with the owl on the Obsidian throne just for the irony of it and smirked for herself.
"You're a king now, Birdie." She chuckled though the fowl only looked back at her with its predatory eyes. Miriam looked around idly.
"Wonder who lived here...Oh." She noticed a large pile of bones lying just next to the throne, she'd been unable to see them before due to the angle but could now perfectly look at the human bones that lay in a desperate heap of old clothing. Miriam bent down to pick at the clothes. Raising the dusty cape to inspect and so on. The skeleton was larger than any man she'd seen and his clothes were a wasted hauberk of when dusted a little silver embroidery. Miriam turned and twisted the bones without much decency and inspected the supposed king's royal attire. Silver rings, crystal armbands and even a crown made of a deep gray metal. It seemed more a helmet than a crown as it covered the head and sides of the skeleton's large skull. The left hand seemed different though. Miriam lifted it to look closer.
"Hmmm?" She hummed as she inspected the large gauntlet. The hand gear was covering, strong and made of the same metal as the crown. Miriam was about to pry it off when she suddenly heard a gust of air strike through the room. She looked around and saw the outline of her bird-captor approach.
"Shit." She cursed and quickly left the dead king to hide behind his throne. Her own owl sat on the said throne, hooting its protest against the gusts that arose with the monster-bird's landing. Miriam peeked out from behind the throne. The bird had landed and was ruffling its four wings and chirping in shows of annoyance and frustration. From its massive beak it dropped a corpse of some kind. For a moment Miriam feared it might've been Walter though quickly noticed it was just another kind of monster. Looked like a swamp croc' to Miriam though it was hard to tell by this distance. The monster-bird pecked at its prey briefly and snipped a piece of it to gullet before it began looking around the room. Moving its large head in snappy and attentive motion just like any regular owl would. It let out a minor craw and then returned to eating out of its capture. Miriam looked around the room again from her cover and pondered. If she ever wanted to get back to her own world she needed to find Walter, and she needed to give him the owl she'd gotten and to do that she first had to get away from that monster. From what she could tell from her new vantage point the room had three exits: The first and most noticable was to her left where the wall had collapsed but she guessed that led to a drop since the owl undoubtedly lived high up. The second was to her right in a small arched doorway that stood slightly behind the drapes she had first found the cage at. The last was the large door just behind the monster which had blown open a long time ago and stood as the most prominent exit out of the throne-room. Miriam decided that the right exit would be her best bet. While the owl still fed she picked up the cage and its inhabitant who cooed a protest.
"Shhh!" Miriam hushed and clutched the cage closer to her chest. She looked over to see if the monster had noticed. Not yet, it was still nipping its bloody beak into the reptilian prey. Miriam sneaked her way down the stairs and with quick, quiet steps headed for the right side of the room. Then the monster looked up, flicking its predatory eyes to Miriam and let out a large roar of a bird noise. Miriam let out a pathetic "Eep!" And sprinted into action. Running straight for the closest exit behind the drapes. The bird reacted quickly as well, leaping across its current prey and spreading its set of smaller wings while approaching with deadly speed. Miriam didn't look over her shoulder as she slipped in behind the drapes and through the exit, she turned once she'd passed through the arch, looked back at the monster and quickly fell down a flight of stairs.
"Ah! OPH. OWOWoowow!" Shoulder first she fell into the spiral staircase that descended quickly into the darkness beneath her feet. She rolled over her own back and lost her grip on the cage which went spiraling down the stairs at its own pace. The owl at least had some kind of protection while Miriam tumbled down the staircase with all the momentum she'd had from running away from the monster. She stopped after it felt she'd broken her arm at least five times more and opened an eye, looking up into the darkness. She could still hear the monster squawk and roar from above her, it seemed like it couldn't reach her here.
"Ow..." She complained and with some sliding down the stairs made to rise. Her body hurt and bumped with aching pains and her butt which had acted as her final cushion felt broken entirely. With some ragged stumbling Miriam followed the chirping complaints of the caged owl down the steps, finding the bird at the end of the staircase. It looked beat up just like her but the cage it was held within seemed as pristine as it had when she first picked it up.
"I hope Freda and Ellie are having it real cozy someplace right about now." Miriam complained while narrowing her eyes to adjust them to the darkness of this new hallway.

The hall was slim compared to the throne-room above it. Miriam hadn't been in any castles before but it reminded her of some of the fancier estates she'd come across during her travels. The walls were lined with paintings and drapery but they were just as burnt as the ones above and Miriam couldn't make out what they were supposed to depict. Instead she carried on through the hallway with the cage in arms, walking at a slow pace to test her bruised joints and bopped head. She traversed another set of stairs down another level and found that the similar hallway had had its wall collapsed. She peeked out through the hole and looked out over the ruins of the city far below her. To her disappointment she couldn't spot the dome shaped building where she'd last seen Walter or anything else she could recognize either. Her vision was suddenly overtaken by a brown feathery flash which caused her to both yelp and take a cautionary step back. Watching the monster-bird pass by her and the hole in the wall Miriam halted her breathing. The fowl had flown by so fast it couldn't possible have seen her but better safe than sorry Miriam kept on through the hallway past the hole to get out of sight again. She heard the monster screech out there and her growing anxiety was hardly settled knowing that it was now circling the spire. Miriam pressed on through the ashen halls and ruined estate of the spire, heading downward always through rooms of leisure, service and living. They seemed endless and they were all as equally ruined as the houses outside had been. Lit by Miriam's unnatural shine the pathways linked together with the staircases in strange and illogical ways just like Miriam noticed the walls changed from bricks, to cobblestone and to metal fluidly. She started to doubt she was even descending at all when one of the stairs took her to a room far different than the rest. It had only one door which she had come through and the walls were lined with bookshelves. The center of the room stacked with tables and strange baubles of alchemy and science. The room was strangely enough not burnt like everything else was but still held many layers of dust and aged crust. Miriam walked to the center and noticed something strange in the dust on the floor. Footprints. She bent down to inspect them.
"Footprints? Shoes. Large but with heels... A woman? Not particularly fresh. Hmm." Miriam trailed the prints to a very prominent desk. Upon the desk stood a small wooden altar which looked like it ought to hold a book of some sort though now there was none. "Dust here is disturbed too." Miriam explained to her bird companion who had taken to nurturing its own bruises while being carried around by Miriam. "Someone's been here." She concluded. Miriam looked around once more and noticed another skeleton.
"Oh. Didn't see you there." She told it and approached the large skeletal body which sat in one of the chair by the desks with its skull planted against the wood. Miriam pushed it back to inspect. The skeleton was large and as old as the one upstairs but this one was dressed in robes of some kind. Miriam spotted that the skeleton had been lying untop of a book. She pushed it aside and took the tome. It was written in a language she'd never seen before. "Typical." She murmured and lay it back on the table without further concern. She picked up the cage once more and left the strange library. It was another great amount of staircases before Miriam reached what she believed to be the bottom floor. There was a large doorway at least and a courtyard which to Miriam seemed typical of castles. There were more skeletons here. They lay scattered and broken on the ashen ground and since they were so seperated and busted Miriam could not count of many there were exactly though they were a lot. She passed by them with as much respect for crunching noises as she could bother with and then headed through a smaller archway that stood next to the large entrance. Finally she'd made it to the bottom of the spire and exited. Looking around she stood on a courtyard surrounded by similar large buildings that like previously meshed together into a melted shape of gray and black and seemed to imply housing more than it actually was housing. Behind her the spire stretched far into the colorless sky and Miriam assumed she'd started at the very top of it. There was no sight of the monster-bird for now so Miriam gripped her cage tighter, chose her path forward and carried on!

Chapter 33: A lion's roar

The hooves thundered against the road as Leofric's destrier carried the king onwards. Snow had began to fall again, further dissipating what verdant scenery remained. Soon naught but cold and snow would dominate the land as winter arrived in ernest. Leofric had departed from his encampment a day ago. He had gone alone, much to the extreme dismay of his remaining knights and officers, but this is something he had insisted to do alone. In truth, it was actually safer that way. With his encampment left in competent hands he had then left, making his way to Cliffport. The journey would take at least two to three days on horseback but Leofric intended to reach the harbour town in less time, even if it meant spurring his destrier to the brink of unhealthy exhaustion. He had left lightly armoured, bearing dark-grey padded cloth and auburn leathers with a simple black and hooded cloak draping down from his back and shoulders. The only thing that could give him away as something else other than a mere traveler or sellsword was his delicate sword, but the blessed weapon was both sheathed and hidden behind the cloak.

Dusk had settled and the king was in the process of contemplating whether he should find shelter and camp for a couple of hours, more so to allow his quadrupedal companion to rest up a bit. Electing that it was for the better, his course of action was abruptly interrupted by something he saw a few miles away. Smoke rose to the sky behind a large cluster of trees. Leofric looked around him - he was out in the middle of nowhere between forests and fields, but surely someone lived in such remote places. Huntsmen, most likely. But the smoke he saw was not slim enough to come from a chimney, but rather a fire, a large one. Sighing irritably Leofric reaffirmed his grip around the reins and urged his destrier with haste towards the direction of the rising smoke column. He quickly closed the distance between himself and the apparent fire, thundering across a field with mild slopes and frozen earth.



Nearing the trees Leofric held in the reins. A figure had exited the woods, running straight for him. Coming closer, Leofric saw that the figure was that of a woman, with a fiery mane flowing behind her. She appeared to be dressed in the simple clothing one might expect from commoners and Leofric deducted that the smoke he saw did indeed come from a fire, and that it was this woman's home that had caught it. She must have seen the incognito monarch approaching and rushed to ask him for help. Exhaling, Leofric urged his destrier on to a trot to meet the woman. But only shortly after she had left the trees more people exited them, a group of five, running after the woman frantically like a battue. Leofric saw that the group behind the woman held tools or weapons, and one held a torch. The reality of the actual situation dawned on the king quickly and he galloped onwards to meet the woman before the group behind her caught up.

"Help! Please!" the woman cried out as Leofric approached her. Her feet gave away and she fell heavily to the ground as Leofric was upon her. She was panting madly and sought to crawl away as if a pack of hellhounds were upon her heels. The truth wasn't too far off.

"Madame?" the king hollered, holding in the reins again. "What is happening?"
"They're-- after me! Please, help! They will kill me!" she replied beneath her breath, barely able to muster the words.

Looking up, Leofric saw that the group that had chased her had almost caught up. They had slowed down to a walk as they saw the mounted man stand above their hunt. Now Leofric could better see the group and what they were armed with. The one holding a torch was a middle-aged female, and in other other hand she held a knife. The other four were men of varying ages, three of them were armed with woodcutting axes and rusted swords, the fourth man held a hunting now. They stopped a distance away from Leofric and the redheaded female.

"Fair evenin', good man." one of the men said. "Looks like yous stumbled 'pon our little prey here. Mighty kind o' you to stop her for us."
"Prey? What is the meaning of this?" Leofric inquired with a frown.
"Well, you see..." the same man from the group replied. "...that harlot sprawled out 'fore you is a witch, aye. Practising 'er evil powers, castin' curses upon us good, honest folk." the man said with fervent conviction. "We're here to rid the land o' her and her magic. Aren't we?" he turned to the rest of the group. They all nodded grimly.

Leofric frowned deeper. Unlike the woman on the ground below him, the group were dressed in ragged leathers and clothes. They were all unkempt and looked maladjusted, rather than the good, honest folk they claimed to be.

"No." the king consicely answered. "You will not lay your hands on her. Turn around and leave."

The group's leader frowned and tightened his grip around an axe he was holding. "Fuck do you mean no? You a witch lover? She's cast a spell 'pon you already?"
"Leave." Leofric reiterated, subtly moving his right hand towards the grip of his sword.
"She's got 'im in her clutches!" the man shouted to his companions. "We'll just have to kill both o' you then. All the same to me." the leader grinned to Leofric and raised his axe.

Leofric drew his sword with a rasping sound. The blade shimmered prominently with its golden white flames against the encroaching darkness of the evening. The armed group gaped at the king, but their leader swiftly recovered with renewed contempt.
"Fuck, 'e is a witch too! Get 'im first!"

With a cry of anger the group threw himselves forward at Leofric and the woman. The fiery haired female desperately crawled backwards as Leofric urged his destrier into a full-on gallop. The brigands, which they very well appeared to be, scattered to the left and right to prevent being run over by the muscular beast and its rider. The female who held the torch and knife were the slowest of the five, and she looked up in horror as Leofric swung his sword from ontop the saddle. The cut almost beheaded the female and she was dead even before she hit the ground in a bloody heap.

"Fuckin' Margret!" the leader cried out and snarled. He pointed at the others and then at Leofric. "Kill 'im already!"

The brigands looked from their leader to Leofric and rushed towards the king from all sides while the lead brigand turned around to face the woman they were initially hunting. She scrambled up to her feet and ran, with the brigand after her. Leofric had acted before the cutthroats and was already circling around them. He approached them anew, this time turning his attention to a younger man who held in the hunting bow. He young man, more or less a mere boy, widened his eyes in fear and shock as the rider with a flaming sword rapidly closed in on him. Struggling to draw and nock and arrow, the bowman cursed and looked up just in time to have his head near split in two by an overhead swing from the king's blessed weapon.

Leofric heard the others shout something but he was already galloping at full pace towards the brigands' leader. He was pursuing the commoner woman across the field and they had veered off to the left. The woman was surprisingly quick on her feet and the brigand struggled to keep up. As the sound of approaching hooves reached his ears he nervously glanced over his shoulder as he ran. He saw a horse and very little else before he felt something tremendously heavy hit him like a sledgehammer, and he was sent flying to the side.

Leofric pulled in the reins and steered his horse aside after he had collided into the brigand. He looked around for the red-haired woman but could not see her. Suddenly his horse neighed in agony and almost reared up, Leofric had to struggle to keep it under control when he noticed the arrow shaft sticking out from its neck. Another arrow hit, this one dug deep into the destrier's flank. With another terrified neigh the beast toppled aside, bringing Leofric with it. Both the rider and horse crashed down heavily against the frozen earth and Leofric cried out briefly, his left leg stuck beneath the weight of his horse. Luckily he had managed to maintain his grip of the sword for he had to raise it above him as a large two-handed woodcutting axe suddenly swung down for his skull. Leofric held the swordgrip with his right hand and pressed his left against the steel for leverage, its flames doing no harm upon his palm. With a quick motion he moved his sword to the left, causing the axe-head to slide down towards the crossguard. Leofric then twisted his sword around so the axe-head was locked between the crossguard and blade and promptly disarmed the axe from its wielder. The king stared up at the brigand leader who was now unarmed, standing over the gravely injured horse. The man snarled and sought to throw himself down at the monarch, but Leofric had managed to free his left foot from its stirrup and kicked a boot into the brigand's chest, causing him to topple aside with a painful groan, not so much from the kick itself, but from previously being barged into by the king's powerful destrier.

Leofric huffed a breath and managed to just pull his right leg free from underneath the horse. He rose up to his feet, his leg aching. Next to him lay the brigand leader who did not seem particularly eager to rise up for the time being. Leforic glanced around for the other assailants and saw one of them approaching from the direction they initially clashed at. A suddenly pain in his right leg caused the king to fall down to it. An arrow had pierced through it near the thigh. Leofric glanced up to see where the shot had came from but was knocked over to his back as another arrow lodged itself into his left chest just beneath the collarbone. He groaned painfully and grit his teeth. He heard rushing footsteps and looked up, noticing one of the bandits rapidly approaching with a rusted sword in hand. He plunged down his weapon against Leofric but the strike was expertly parried away by the king. Leofric immediately retaliated, swinging out low against the man's left ankle and nearly severed the leg from the foot. The brigand cried out in immense pain and fell backwards, giving Leofric enough to struggle up to his feet, though he nearly fell over again as the arrow in his leg reminded him through a painful surge.

"Whoreson!" a voice shouted and Leofric glanced towards it. It was the shooter, as evident by the hunting bow he held in his left hand. However Leofric noted that he had no more arrows, for in the right hand the bandit now gripped a simple arming sword. The bandit lashed wildly against Leofric with untrained inaccuracy, attacks that were easily parried time and again by the injured monarch as steel upon steel filled the air around them. Leofric reposted, easily disarming the bandit before running him through the chest with the blessed sword. The man's eyes widened in shock and he opened his mouth, yet no sound parted his lips. Leofric twisted the sword around and then retracted it. The bandit fell over, his life expended.

A groan reached Leofric's ears and he turned around, watching the bandit leader struggle up to his feet with a hand pressed against his chest. Judging by his pained expression he must've broken a rib or two from the horse's collision and only just now realised it. The man glanced around, noticing each of his fallen companions in their bloody display and raised a hand to Leofric in what could only be interpreted as surrender.

"Please..." the leader began, yet his words were cut off abruptly in his throat as his held out hand suddenly severed from the arm. He screamed out in agony and shock but that scream was also cut short as Leofric struck the man down with a strike that reached from hip to shoulder. Leofric thought he could notice the man's guts spill out just before he collapsed with his face first against the earth. The king then glanced around again in search for the woman he had saved, yet saw no sign of her. Instead, he turned back to his fallen destrier yet failed to walk to it, his right leg giving away beneath him, and the arrow in his chest took its toll.

With an exasperated exhale Leofric collapsed amongst the bloodied remains of the bandits.

The wind was unusually calm that morning. The ship sailed forward without any disturbance, not even the sea protested as the wooden construction moved through the blue depths. The tradesmen aboard the ship went about their business, recovering from an awful storm which had haunted the ship the night before. They had set sail from the Midlands long ago, and Eliana could not quite keep track of the days. She had been on the way to Raylia for weeks by now, after arriving at a harbour in the Midlands, where she managed to convince the tradesmen to take her along with them on the ship.

The girl sat in the small cabin she had been given and stared out the window. The waves moved in that blue colour everything did for her recently. After the council had managed to fix her sight to an extent, a patch, as the grandmaster Larnicus had put it. She looked around in the cabin. There was no one else here, a simple silence, which she expected she would grow used to in the coming weeks, maybe even months or years. There was no saying how long it would take to find those Lafontairre brothers, or if they were even still alive. Far as Eliana knew; the small sparks of a rebellion might already have been extinguished.

“Land ahoy!” the boy in the mast shouted, as Eliana wandered outside to the deck. In the distance, she could sense a horizon of a town, but it was faint. The men amongst her began discussing amongst themselves, of how they’d sell their wares, what they’d spent the money on and so on. None of them had spoken to the half-blind girl, besides when food was being served. It had been far from enjoyable, but Eliana suspected it could’ve been a worse trip.

The chatter from the harbour soon overwhelmed the men aboard the ship, as the ship’s passengers made their way onto the dock. Eliana adjusted the straps on her satchel, as she made her way towards the centre of the fisherman’s town. She was headed towards Loyton, wherever that was. East, she had been told. “And east I am.” Eliana sighed to herself.

It had not taken long to find the local tavern. It was loud inside, and whether it was a celebration or a brawl could be anyone’s guess. Eliana stood outside the door, listening to the madness inside. She had not been on her own for years and felt an awful anxiety rising within her, at the realisation of her situation. The door before her barged open, as a man stumbled outside, giving her a half-arsed greeting as he drunkenly stumbled forward, headed for god knows where. She offered him a wave, as he passed. And with a quick step, she wandered inside, groaning at the many new shapes that glowed blue before her. “Best fit in.” A voice whispered from somewhere, and Eliana turned her head in confusion, finding no one to be near her. Several people had passed her, and each one of them could’ve been the culprit. Nonetheless, it had sent a chill down her spine, and thus her paranoia already grew.

“Loyton?!” The man snorted into a loud laughter, waving his hand about. “What in the Queen’s name do you want to find in Loyton!? It’s nothing impressive, jeune dame.” His raylian accent sliced right through, and Eliana simply sat with her hands in her lap, sighing internally.

“But I’m certain someone is nuts enough to take you. It’s a mess, jeune dame.” He almost laughed, taking a swig of his mead.

“Because of the rebels?” Eliana bluntly asked him. The man shot her a glare, hushing her.
“You want to get tossed into the cells? This is a town of the Queen! And there isn’t any rebellion, mind. It was false rumours, I tell you.” The man snorted again, more so disappointed this time. He leant across the table, lowering his voice. “But you sparked my curiosity. Why in the world do you want to find damned rebels? And how do you intend on doing that, with them des yeux étranges?” he motioned to her eyes, though she knew little of what the words even meant.

“My eyes?” Eliana paused, wetting her lips as she pondered. “An accident, but I’m only half-blind, really.” She muttered, unsure how he would respond. He sat and stared at her for a bit, shaking his head.
“I still asked you a question.”

Eliana looked over her shoulder, peering towards the other silhouettes in the room. She had hoped a young girl asking about rebels would be common here, but it seemed not.

“My father got killed in a skirmish. I was told the rebels got to him, collateral damage, or so.” She looked back at him, nodding sternly. “I want to know the truth.”

From what she could make out, he smirked back at her, grinning to himself. “Thought I could tell from those R’s.”
Eliana looked towards him, eyebrow perked. “What?”

“The way you pronounce your R’s, jeune dame. ‘S a hint of Raylian, I tell you.” He proudly leaned backwards, as if he had just solved an ancient riddle of some gypsy. Which left Eliana to sit silent for a moment, contemplating the way she pronounced her R’s. It could not have been much noticeable, as no one had ever commented on the bloody thing before. Truth be told, she had not spent much time in Raylian company either. It was almost a thought interesting enough, that it took her mind off the heavy smell of mead that had occupied the room.

“Nonetheless, I ain’t sending you in the way of rebels, ‘cause there ain’t any.”
Her hands went to clutch a small totem, residing around her neck as a simple and small necklace. The wooden material was a soothing friend, as she let her mind race. It might’ve been true. Maybe there weren’t any. Maybe, they had all been killed by the orders of this Queen, that nobody had supposedly seen in months.
She sat alone at the table for long, tapping her fingers against the wood. The drunkard had left her long ago, when she had silently murmured a ‘thanks’, for the little help he had been able to give her.
Her stream of thoughts was interrupted by the sudden silence that overtook the room. Someone had stepped into the tavern, clad in something that sounded awfully heavy to carry around. The soldiers shouted something in the native Raylian, which Eliana understood barely the half of. They repeated themselves in the common tongue, frustrated.

“Anyone who arrived on a ship this morning, this noon or this evening; steps outside – now!”

Miriam
Chapter 31: The Hand of Death

Beneath the smoldering black sky among the ruined city which hangs in faded reality walked a girl; weary, bruised and lost with a white glow to sign her aura and carrying the gilded cage of a resting fowl she traversed the wide ashen courtyards and broken pathways of the tattered city in search of the wizard who had first abducted her to this place. Behind her stood the hollow citadel of those that had once ruled here and around it in wide soaring sweeps flew the monstrous owl, its silhouette a shadow against the black, infinite sky. This girl was named Miriam Marsh, born of the frigid and silver northern mountains, wearing attire and colours of the eastern Midway in its red adornment and silken innards, abducted by powers beyond her comprehension. She walked the mazes of the citadel's closest buildings, staying beneath roofs, ceilings and sprinting between shade to avoid the eye of the bird which hunted her, she made distance slowly to a location she didn't know. The streets of the city still made no sense in their structure or style but Miriam had grown used to the confusion of this world by now and focused instead on getting out of it. She walked down some tall, thin steps that seemed similar to some she and Walter had traversed earlier and made a sharp left turn past some wall that seemed more holes than it did bricks. She suddenly paused with a sliding foot, gulped and turned back to hide behind the wall.
"Shit." She murmured and peeked out past the wall again. Down the next road she glimpsed the monster she'd spotted. She couldn't make out what it was precisely but it seemed twice her size and furry. Sat in the center of the path it looked like a ball of shaggy fur. Miriam observed its back with a strange curiosity, trying to make out what it was supposed to be when the cage she carried suddenly shook. The owl within cooed and rustled the cage.
"Wh-.. Cra-.." Miriam said and looked down at the irate owl and then to the furry ball. It swished its tail to the left and seemed to rise. Miriam was about to hide but the peculiarity of what she witnessed caused her to stay: What had first seemed like the back of the beast suddenly unfurled, the fur of the monster unfolded like eyelids and in disgusting slowness streaked backwards. As the fur was shed behind the beast it undid its jaw which spread the entirety of its round shape and while opening its mouth to show its many rows of jagged teeth it rose up on two spindly legs. Its fur and the tail had moved to the other side and the monster now stood at full size but the large maw was all Miriam could make out of its face for it had neither eyes nor any other facial feature than the full mouth, as if the creature was nothing but mouth and legs. Miriam 'eeped' and sprung quickly back behind the wall, clutching the gilded cage in her arms. She heard the beast begin to drag itself toward her. Miriam looked around, spotted the closest door which barely hung off the hinges of its building and without second thought she rushed for it. She pushed her shoulder against it and hurried through the door, kicking it shut behind her - Unfortunately the sudden movement was more than the ancient wooden door could manage and it promptly flew off its hinges and landed with a dusty thunk against the ground. Miriam blinked and looked with disbelief at the door where it lay, then rose her vision to watch the Maw which now stood by the wall she'd first hidden behind. It swished its furry behind and in a hazy breath opened its maw. Miriam froze where she stood for a moment of pure disgust and fear when she and the monster stood ten feet apart and then she let out a whimpering: "Eeerh." And turned to run further into the shelter of the house. She was smart to have run since the Maw crashed through the doorway a mere moment after, tearing a hole in the doorframe and leaving a trail the shape of its round head. Miriam turned on one foot and sped up a rickety flight of stairs to the second floor of the cramped house, from what she could hear the Maw was in hot pursuit though she could not focus on its place on her trail right now. She hurried through the small room on the second floor, carrying the cage with her all the while and looked for a functional exit. A moment later she squeezed through a small window, dragging the cage with her and fell a small distance to the ceiling of a terrace which stood on this side of the house. Miriam rolled one lap on the black wood of the ceiling before quickly rising to her steady feet, she stopped the cage with one foot, having learned it could take a lot more damage than she could she wasn't very concerned about the safe keeping of the owl inside who hooted and shook in wild protest with all the flurry of movement. The house from which Miriam had just escaped shook with the sounds of the Maw ravaging its insides but it seemed it could not find a way to follow her now. Miriam smiled to herself in achievement and turned, ready to climb down the terrace to the next street... Which was crammed with large round balls of fur, seated on the ground.
"Oh COME ON!" Miriam exclaimed and then winced in regret. The dozen or so balls that sat huddled on the street beneath her twitched and then began to unfurl just like the Maw had. Miriam groaned and stomped on the spot.
"Whyyyyy!" She cried as the Maws rose up on their legs, opened their mouths and began to approach her terrace, dragging their furry layer of shed protection behind them. They were barely tall enough to press the top of their round bodies against the ceiling where Miriam stood and even though they moved slowly they had surrounded the terrace in no time at all. Miriam considered going back through the window but it was too high up now to reach and she would be walking into the mouth of the monster either way. She sat the cage up and stood in the center of the tilted ceiling looking down at the monsters who leisurely pushed, gnawed and kicked at the supports of the terrace. She wouldn't have much time before they collapsed the terrace and would gobble her up completely. She looked around, frightened but not in panic for some kind of exit. She could try and jump over them, land on the path and run for it but there'd be no way she could outrun them then. She could may-... The air was cloven through with a whirring boom and a rush of air and it paused Miriam's train of thought. She looked toward her left down the narrow street from where the boom had come from and blinked in confusion. Then ducked in cover as she realized whatever it was was headed this way! She shut her eyes and hid beneath her arms, feeling the push of air pass above her body as if a torrent of it had been pushed like a wave of water through the street. She heard limbs break, blood spurt and bodies thud against the ground. The creatures made no sound as they died but gurgled on their own blood as they lay bloodied, battered and tattered on the black floor. Miriam peeked at their ruined shapes from her terrace and grimaced. They'd been grotesque before but now with their skin torn apart by the boom of wind and their insides splattered on the floor Miriam saw the pity and pathetic desperation of these creatures. She huffed and rose up. Just in time to witness what had saved her: A figure approached down the narrow path, it looked like a man but wearing a black cloak with its large, shrouding hood drawn far over its face. In its right hand it carried a tall, slender scythe which ended in a pristine, glistening edge - contrasting the dreary blackness of the world it sparkled in a mirroring sheen. Miriam was transfixed on the approaching robed figure who walked - no, slithered - so calmly down the street. The figure stopped, turned its hooded face to look up at Miriam's terrace and she looked back. Witnessing the figure twist its body, coiling together the black serpent's tail that dragged behind it and then use it to rise into the air until it was level with Miriam herself. The figure was that of a man's even though the plain black robes and hooded cloak's tattered ends surrounded the long serpent's end. The figure turned its scythe in both hands, gripping it in an idle stance as it adjusted their swaying elevation. It hung there, its shrouded face pointed directly at her and she stood transfixed, staring straight back. Time seemed to stand still, Miriam lost her senses, she was not afraid, nor even surprised. She opened her mouth to speak but there were no words to be said. As she stared into the blackness that was the gap in the figure's hood she saw the same blackness she had once become lost in - in what seemed like a lifetime ago in Lowburg when she and Ellie had been overcome by the creep of a cultist and his dark tendrils. She recognized the endless black space that had seemed so comforting and assuring in its utter lack of change and disorder and she slowly rose her arm, reaching out her right hand toward it. Close enough to touch...- What broke the spell was the shout of a familiar voice coming from far out of her peripheral hearing.
"Miriam!" Walter's voice had broken the fixation she had had on the serpent-man and now in rapid panic she noticed just how close the shrouded creature had come! She jumped back in reflex and the serpent did as well lunge backwards with a slithering sway of its deft body. It turned its head to peer down the other end of the street and Miriam turned as well. The aged wizard adjusted the sleeves of his brown coat, rolled his spell-casting wrists in test and sighed tiredly.
"This'll be tricky..."

Chapter 34: His people

Leofric woke up to an unfamiliar herbalistic incense. The first thing he saw was a charred wooden ceiling that seemed to be on the verge of collapsing. He tried to move but had little success, his body felt stiff and unresponsive. A cold breeze swept over his face and Leofric glanced to the side with a mildly blurry vision, his eyes still adjusting. He was inside a burnt-out cottage. Half the building had collapsed and the interior was devastated except for the hearth, which was burning strong. The next thing that struck Leofric's mind was that he was in a bed. A thick fur blanket covered him from feet to chin to shield him from the cold winds breaching into the destroyed house. He frowned in some confusion. Where was he exactly? He tried to move again, this time with some success. He groaned in effort and pulled aside the blanket a bit when a voice nearby piped up.

"You should not move yet."

Leofric stopped and turned his head to look towards the direction of the voice. Near the hearth sat a woman on her knees, occupied with picking up and clearing away some of her personal belongings from the blackened floor. She was dressed in simple garments and had fiery red hair. She glanced up at Leofric and he quickly knew who she were - the woman from the woods. Reluctantly Leofric eased down a little and halted his attempt to rise up.

"You've been out for almost a day. Had to be while I was tending to your injuries." she continued.

Leofric looked down at himself and realised that he felt nothing. No pain. He remembered getting shot.

"You will feel stiff for a while but it's nothing to be concerned about. It's just a side effect from the salve I used to mend your wounds. By now I reckon it will dissipate within a couple of hours, and you'll feel right as rain again after that."

Leofric looked back to the woman and then around the cottage again. The hearth seemed to be only part of the cottage that had been spared. He noticed a handful of wooden figures standing ontop of the hearth. The figures were carved and shaped into different animals with a beautiful craftsmanship behind it. He saw a stag, a bear, and a fox. He continued to look around. Next to the bed stood his sword against the wall, sheathed in its scabbard. Whoever the woman was, she had not been a thief. He looked back to her and nodded slightly in a show of gratitude.

"Thank you..."
"There is nothing to thank me for. I am simply doing what is right, King Leofric."

Leofric frowned and glanced to her questioningly. "You know who I am?"

"Yes. I know who you are, your grace."
"How?"

She smiled thinly and rose up to her feet and approached the bed. She looked down at him with a general peaceful auro about her.

"I know much because I see much, and I see much because I am a druidess." she stated bluntly. Leofric was briefly caught off guard by her patency. He had heard of druids but never met any before. It was said that druids possessed abilities beyond that of the common man or woman. He frowned, suddenly realising that he might be in grave danger. He was in no shape to fight with his body still affected by the woman's salves. Leofric was renowned for his views on magic and those who wielded it, and here stood someone at his side, professing that she was one of those people. There was nothing stopping this woman from cutting his throat in an act of vengeance. Yet she did not, and she had saved his life...

"I know your ways, sire. I know of the resent you hold against sorcery and witchcraft, and I know the reason why. I can't say that I agree with it, but nor can I blame you for it. I may have acted in the same way perhaps. I assume you are asking yourself why I have helped you even after knowing who you are. For reasons other than those I explained to you, I want to show you that we are not all evil. We are just people, and like any people we too have both good and wicked amongst us. We are your people as much as anyone else in the Northlands."

She smiled and clasped her hands together infront of her. Leofric lingered his eyes upon her. He frowned still, but not in contempt, but in thought. He couldn't think of a reason why she would lie, and she appeared certain in her conviction. Being in her presence did not sit well with him, yet she appeared to hold no ill will against him. She had saved his life and openly admitted to being affiliated to a group of magical properties. It bothered him, but not in the ways he had anticipated. With a ever so slight nod to the druidess Leofric lowered himself back into the bed and elected to stare up into the ceiling again. Whatever he thought or felt about the present, he could do little against it while he remained bedridden. He closed his eyes, his thoughts circling around inside his head.

While he listened to the druidess return to cleaning up inside her cottage, he started to wonder if he had been wrong.

Miriam
Chapter 32: Deliverance

The foundations of the terrace had given way, Miriam's grip on sanity, logical thought or general laws of physics had become nothing more than a memory gnawing annoyingly at the back of her mind. The young woman, garbed in her Midway clothing and surrounded by a white aura, carrying the gilded cage with a ruffled owl inside scrambled quickly. She cowered inside the entrance to one of the askew buildings and was about to turn to observe the duel outside when a sudden explosion flared outside in the streets. Dust, ash and the remaining bits of flesh from the creatures of the Maw was flung up and out, hitting the uneven walls of the houses on either side of the demonic ashen street. Miriam pushed the door open with her shoulder and stumbled inside speedily. Outside the street flared up with another bright light and loud cacophony of violent magics. Miriam quickly went inside the house, which was similarly askew and decrepit as the rest she'd been in so far. She sat the owl in its cage upon the ruined table and headed quickly for the window, opening its shutters with first a failed shove, and then a forceful kick. She cowered her head behind its edge and peeked out.

She saw Walter first, the elderly man was dressed in his long brown coat, his feet skidding backward and his wrists moving in that spellcasting kind of way. Suddenly he flicked his right hand forward, causing a tremendous shock wave to materialize from his movement. It sent its pressure through the air, causing Miriam to fumble back. She was quick to her seat again and looked outside. She spotted Walter's combatant, the Dark cloaked, slithering creature with its black scythe and gleaming malice. The creature was easily thrice Walter's height when stretching its serpent's body but Miriam noticed that it was reeling, its black cloak that shrouded its human half had been damaged, torn and its fury was more prevalent than its dread now. It exchanged some movement and spread its invisible authority at and around the wizard it fought and even though Miriam could not see the details of their battle, its aftermath was evident. Wherever their power met, sometimes halfway, sometimes closer to either fighter, holes appeared. Black, lacking gaps in the very seams of this world's reality. Their darkness so complete and so pure that Miriam saw them shine like mirrors. She realized, even though she did not understand, that if any of these attacks exchanged between monster and man hit, it would mean certain death. Flames shot out, suddenly a firestorm surrounded the malevolent snake and Miriam snapped her eyes to Walter, whom with his hands raised to the sky and his arms spread controlled the vortex of fire. Miriam saw in it her past, and also a possible future. Walter shouted, while still containing his flaming vortex, its fires licking and scorching the already wasted buildings of the street.
"Miriam! Get the bird! Speak these words! The grizzled man strained, the slithering creature throwing out its body in a show of strength, its scythe sweeping aside the flames as if they were a sheet of cloth. Walter managed to parry the following swing of the scythe, the very air around him becoming physical while still without form. A barrier of unsightly power. Walter continued to bellow.
"Edra gi'es Moran!" Speak those words Miriam, and get the bird to the Queen of Valentus, none other! Do you hear me?!"
Miriam poked her head out of the window to shout back.
"What?! What about you?!"
"I'll meet you there!" Walter shouted back, not sparing her the look. "Edra gi'es Moran, Miriam! Go!"
She hadn't any option. Miriam turned away from the tug of power between wizard and monster and ran back toward the center of her house. When she reached the table where she'd put the fowl the wall suddenly gave way, following a distinct cutting sound. The wall exploded in dust and mortar, the scythe of the Black Snake having cut through it like paper. Miriam grabbed the cage with the owl, held it closely, shut her eyes and screamed the words. "Edra gess Moran!" Everything went dark.

Chapter 35: The reward

A breeze, strong and fiere, repeatedly batted Leofric in the face as he stood upon the high cliff overlooking the great expanse of water reaching out as far as the eye could see. He did not remember how he got here, but he knew that this is where he needed to be. He was clad in his steel and chainmail armour and his head was protected by a steel helm too, its visor shaped and decorated like the great maw of a roaring lion. Around the helmet was a gilded crown, also for ornamental purposes to display his authority and status, but it wasn't an actual real crown. In his right hand he held his bastard sword, its hardened steel forever blessed with the gold and white radiance calmly swirling around it like a mist. Leofric exhaled a cold breath through the visor and swept his narrowed gaze across the horizon. All along it lay dark clouds, threatening and infinite. A storm was coming. Was he ready for it? Behind him he heard light footsteps approach and a soothing aura fell over him. He turned his head slightly to the right to acknowledge the new arrival. She stood next to him; garbed in a delicate white robe with intricate patterns across its fabric. Her hair was both fair and long, and seemed to almost radiate with the same light as his sword. Her feet was bare but despite the crude walk to the cliffs remained immaculate, like she never truly physically touched the ground. She looked at him and smiled with her hands softly clasped before her. The same soothing feeling washed over Leofric again. He turned back his eyes to the looming dark on the horizon. She followed his gaze.

"Are you ready?" her soft voice asked.
"I don't know."
"You have to be. If you fall then they are all lost."

Leofric turned his head slightly towards her again but didn't look at her. He nodded, nothing else needed to be said. She smiled at him and unraveled her clasped hands to lay a palm on his armoured shoulder, then she turned and left. Leofric was left alone on the crags again, left alone to watch the dark horizon inch itself ever closer to him.



He opened his eyes and abruptly sat up. The scent of herbs and wood filled his nostrils and he wrinkled his nose briefly in a mixture of wonder and distaste. Leofric raised a hand and ran it through his hair and exhaled a deep breath. The dream was still very present in his mind. Though was it truly a dream? A vision? He did not know, but he did not dismiss the possibility. Regardless he couldn't do anything about it right now and instead spared a glance around the hut. He was alone, at least inside. The hearth was burning and the place had been tidied. Someone was still here. She was still here. Leofric frowned slightly as he remembered the druidess, then swept aside the blanket to get out of bed. He noticed that he was practically entirely undressed and bit down on his tongue. But at least his injures weren't hurting anymore. He could barely see them, in fact. Whatever ointment the druidess has applied, it had worked wonders. He rose up to his feet and got dressed in his padded leathers and black cloak. Finally he fastened the swordbelt around his waist and made for the door. He spared the hearth a glance as he passed it, his eyes falling upon the wooden figures of various animals. He couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship, it was truly impressive. He stepped through the door and exited the hut. The sky was grey and dull; rain was likely and he could already hear thunder in the far distance. Movement caught his attention and he followed it. At a nearby tree stood his black destrier, which too seemed completely recovered from the scrap with the brigands. Leofric twitched a smile and walked over to it, embracing it around the neck and stroking its mane.

"She is beautiful. Does she have a name?" a voice asked. Leforic turned around and saw the druidess stand a short distance away, watching him. He narrowed his eyes slightly and delayed in answer. "Storm."
"A good name." the druidess replied.
Leofric nodded slowly and stepped away from his horse to face the woman of the woods. "And do you?"
"Call me Dolores."
"I owe you my gratitude and my life, Dolores. It's not often someone gets to save the life of a king, and as such I feel obliged to reward you. Name your prize."
Dolores smiled, almost shyly. She was quiet for a couple of moments and then looked at him a bit warily. She knew his view on magic and so her wish gingerly parted her lips. "Can I travel with you, sire?"
Leofric paused. He looked at her in silence for a long moment, surprised if anything. Why someone like she wanted to travel with someone like him was a mystery. He bit his tongue in mild frustration. To reject her would be wrong. He had asked her prize and she had said it: it wasn't entirely unreasonable, and, he admitted to himself, she was evidently a very skilled healer. So he nodded to her and belatedly replied.
"Very well. You saved my life, allowing you to accompany me is the least I can do."
Dolores brightened up with a wide smile and before Leofric had said another word the red-headed druidess had ran off and disappeared behind her partially ruined hut somewhere. She re-appeared a short while after, sitting atop a saddled and spirited mule. She trotted up to him and smiled again. "So!" she began. "Where to?"

Miriam
Chapter 33: The Riders of Red and Black

Something was wrong. Miriam recognized the absolute dark she floated within. She'd been afforded with its suffocating calm several times before, each time forced into it by outside forces and each time she seemed to have been sinking further into its tranquil pitch. This time she was falling, fast. Shot like out of a catapult she soared through the sightless realm of dark like a projectile without a goal. This was different and she knew that it was wrong. She must have said the words wrong, she must have failed in some aspect, she must have forgotten the owl. The bird appeared in front of her then, still within its cage it seemed to fall at her exact speed as her with the same befuddled expression in its large amber eyes. She hadn't seen it before then but now it seemed obvious that'd it would be falling with her. Miriam hoped that wherever she would fall to next would have less wizards, less monsters and more sky. She was wrong on most accounts. Her escape was sudden and forceful, as if someone had hooked onto her like a fish in a stream, and then yanked her out with one fierce tug. She tumbled out of the darkness and recognized the feeling of hitting the stone floor shoulder-first. The clattering sound of her bird-cage followed as the owl as well had been yanked out into this existence. Miriam hoped it was her existence. Voices spoke, men, hoarse, malicious. Their language was not the tongue of the Northlands, in fact it was no language Miriam had heard before. It was vulgar, snappy and throaty but juxtaposed with complex rolls of certain letters. Miriam groaned, after her venture into the Outlands with Walter, after having traversed a dead world and met its monstrous inhabitants, after having been the prisoner of a gigantic fowl when her task had been to acquire a smaller one. All she could do was groan. The voices, there were two of them, spoke again in reply to her sounds. Miriam heard one pick up her bird-cage and the owl she was to get to Valentus hooted viciously, shaking its cage in more wild protest, like it had done so many times in the other world. The second voice picked her up by the collar of her ornate white and red Midway coat. Miriam saw her own body hang and noticed she was no longer glowing white. Her own world then, at least. Then she looked up and had a start. It was a skull that looked back at her. No, she realized, a mask. Miriam had begun to protest and shake, giving the large skeletal suit of dark red armor a solid few kicks. He laughed raucously, the sound hollow and echoing behind his skeletal facemask. His companion did not laugh. The giant that held Miriam like an insolent cub said something and the other replied angrily, looking at the owl within its cage. Miriam, by now accustomed to being the prisoner of forces she didn't quite understand tried to mediate.
"Who are you?" She asked where she hung. She noticed that her voice came off more clear than it had done in the Outlands. Also that she had lost the sick in her throat she had had before going there.
The two skeletal giants did not reply in any tongue she could understand. The first shook her by the coat and laughed again as she jiggled.
"Fuckin' stop that!" She cried and tried to kick at him again. His armor took the brunt of the damage, which was none at all. Even so her protest seemed to have gained some support as the giant did stop tussling her. He even put her down and Miriam quickly pulled on her weathered coat and grunted. She felt heavier than she had in the Outlands too even though she was probably as small as she'd ever been. To the two skeletal armored soldiers she must have seemed a child up to their waist if even that. And even though these heavily armored, armed and undoubtedly intimidating beings were upon her and her owl Miriam felt no fear. She'd been the puppet of Dark Mages, survived trolls and the Black Marshes while barely even awake. She had seen the Outlands and all of its terrors. She didn't fear these two and even though she could not see their faces past their masks, she knew that they knew. That knowledge did not disgruntle them however and they began to lead Miriam along, one pushing her in front of him while the other walked ahead of her, holding the protesting fowl. They streamed out of the room she had been dragged into and went through a wooden door, much too small for the soldiers who had to bow their heads to pass. They entered a hallway, made of the same stone and fitted with a nice carpet down its aisle. Torches blazed alongside the walls and guided their walk through the hallways. Miriam looked over her shoulder, she was convinced now that she had either spoken Walter's spell faulty or he had tricked her here. She had never seen a Valentian, besides the old wizard but she seriously doubted this was them.
"I'm magic, you know." She told her captor. He flicked his eyes down upon her, grunted something in his own language but did not stop her.
"That's right. I'm practically a princess. See that bird?" She asked and gestured her head forward to where the owl was kept.
"It's like, a Spirit. Or something. I was the only one who could get it because I am so special. You've captured someone very important but you can't even understand what I'm saying!" Miriam grinned back at him. The fact that he didn't understand what she was saying and the fact that her babbling annoyed him amused her.
"You see, you're not e-.." He interrupted her, not with words but rather by grabbing the tiny huntress by her waist and slinging her upon his large armored shoulder. Miriam noticed it was cold to touch and she gasped.
"Let go!" She struggled but there was no point to it so as their journey continued down the hall she eventually stopped kicking her feeble feet at his clinking set of armor and swaddled into her escort. It wasn't long after that that they had reached their destination. The first soldier knocked on a new wooden door, also too small. And then opened it to enter. Miriam's escort bowed down and struggled past the arch with the small human in tow. He turned, shut the door with his free hand and then plopped her down unto her feet harshly. Miriam hit the ground, her eyes raised up as the soldiers spoke their language to the person in front of her. Miriam blinked, confused. The woman turned, her skin pale, wearing an immaculate dress of the same colour code as the soldiers and her vibrant eyes agleam with dangerous intelligence. She smiled, sweetly, stretching from her puffy, painted lips to the flowing, adorned hair of her perfectly shaped head. Miriam knew this type of flower. The prickly roses of Northland Nobility were well famed for their duality and toxic personality but this flower wasn't a mere rose. And this woman wasn't a mere noble. Miriam felt in her chest a familiar taste of fear, one she had not granted the giant men. She held her breath. And the Queen spoke. Even before her words formed Miriam knew that it would be in the Common Tongue.
"Well now. Where did you come from, little Kitten?"