Early morning.
A night in an old boathouse had left the once great Seth of Valeria slightly more humble than usual. The rain had almost managed to drown out the raging wind, and the old sail he had used as a blanket for the night had almost kept him warm and dry. As the sun first peeked up over the mountains in the east Seth arose from his half-slumber, yawned and stretched and tried to come back to life. The long night had given him plenty of time to think. He’d thought about the woman he’d left in Rudin, the elf who’d disappeared, he wondered what the healing lady was doing right now with the valuable coin he’d giver her, and he tried to imagine how the small village was better off in every possible way for his generosity. As morning came, he knew that in reality the money was long gone. The coin given to a merchant, who passed it on to his supplier, another merchant would get hold of it and as time went by the face and numbers on the coin would fade and only leave a worthless lump of gold.

The shadows were still long when Seth of Valeria walked on water.
He’d found an almost intact boat hidden away, the wood was still fine and it only leaked a little when a wave hit the right side of it. There were no oars around, but the ship was powered by the wind. Set of Valeria was certainly no sailor, and wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between the starboard and the right side of the boat. But after pulling a few ropes and tying a few knots he saw the sail fill up and slowly start to drift in a general southern direction. The boat had no name, so Seth decided he would name it. Coming up with a good name would pass the time for him.
He decided against Elena. The boat did not remind him of her at all, and he feared that if he gave such an ugly contraption her name she’d scold him for it later in the next life. He’d deserve it too. One by one he went through all the women in his life and found none of them suited for a ship. One or two (he suspected) had never even seen a body of water bigger than a bath tub.
So he moved on to the mystical as the wind picked up, he’d be in Astoria in a matter of hours.
Neritha was the goddess of light and knowledge. Mara was her sister, protector of the night and animals. The old legend said that Mara created the night to keep the animals from hunting one another all the time. Seth of Valeria thought that she must’ve been angry when the wolves and bats and wild cats and all the other nocturnal predators decided that the night was actually better for hunting than the day.
Caulau was the goddess of life in the old faith, but such a bulky name would surely sink the ship.
He tried to remember the others. The old faith was full of deities, even the priests would’ve had a hard time to remember them all.

To sail a ship without a name was bad luck, that much he knew. Perhaps a woman was a sad thing to name a ship after. They were nothing like each other after all. Seth of Valeria looked around, he tried to see anything that would be fitting to name a boat after.
The lake itself felt a bit too ambitious, birds were no good either because he didn’t know their names. Waves were too common and to name a ship “fish” was definitely asking for trouble.

He came closer to land for a while and searched there as well for a fitting name but found none. If a woman’s name was unfitting he doubted the god of the sea would let the proud “Cow” sail on much further. Suddenly he saw a snake slither down toward the water, and with only the smallest amount of hesitation it got in and started to swim out toward the nameless boat. Seth of Valeria had never seen anything like it in his entire life. So stunned was he by the creature that he cleared a huge boulder with only a foot or two, for he had been busy watching the serpent swim.
Now that was a name you could get behind. The Seaserpent. It had a nice ring out it, rolled off the tongue and reminded you of that miraculous creature by the beach. As the ship quickly took him away from the snake he wondered why no one had ever thought if that name before. He’d have the answer before long.

With Astoria on the horizon the wind suddenly died. Disappointment filled his soul as Seth of Valeria threw a bucketfull of water back into the lake. With nothing else to do than wait for the wind or another boat to come by he got comfortable and shut his eyes for a few moments. With a loud creak the boat shifted to the right and almost threw the nobleman into the big blue. A second later the boat suddenly turned left and the nobleman felt slightly less noble the usual, lying in the floor. He quickly got up and did all he could to look in all directions at once. The waves were not big enough to rock the boat in such a way, so something else must’ve done it. Demons generally didn’t like water much since it killed their hellfire, but nothing was impossible.
As he stood as vigilant as any bedtime hero the boat once again was rocked violently, backward this time, but Seth had prepared for it. He remained upright, and ran over to the front of the boat, but there was nothing to see. Slowly it dawned on the nobleman that his enemy resided beneath the surface. He drew the blade of Valeria and held it high as a challenge. He cried out his name over the waves, and demanded that his foe would reveal itself. A moment later he wished he hadn't.

The boat lurched slowly to the left and a dark shadow became apparent underneath the ship. Seth of Valeria steeled himself against another impact, but his knees grew weak as the shadow grew bigger, and bigger, and bigger.
With a thunderous roar the creature broke the surface and towered up before the nobleman. It stood erect in the water, as tall as the castle of Veiron. The nobleman dreaded to think about what kind of a body could support this act and still hide in the water.
The creature was roughly shaped like a snake, but many times bigger. The scales were murky and dark, even on the belly. The big mouth was full of small teeth, perfect for catching fish and stupid humans. The eyes, cold, soulless. They burned yellow with an inner glow.

Staring his foe in the face Seth of Valeria started to doubt his own ability to vanquish such an enemy. Yet, he thought, his skills had gotten him that far, it was his chance to get a ballad.
He thrust his sword toward the beast and dared it to attack him, and claimed that he would wear its skin on his feet. With terror in his eyes Seth of Valeria saw that his threat was ignored, the serpent bend down and would've swallowed the nobleman whole of his feet hadn't worked on their own. Nimble as a dancer the swordsman avoided the sharp teeth, his sword shot out by pure instinct but the blade's bite was weak and the beast's scales hard.
The serpent got its mouth full of splinters and drew its head back, writhing in pain. A lesser man would've seen it as a minor victory. But then you'd have to ignore the fact that you were on a boat, in the middle of the water, sinking. The beast retreated back below, and it was not long before the boat received the first of many attacks from underneath the waves.

Within a minute the boat was reduced to a simple raft. It only just supported Seth's weight. With his feet he tried to paddle toward land, but he knew too well that he was too far away. A head appeared, as big as the boat had been, burning yellow eyes stared into his own. If monsters could have feelings this one was smug. Slowly it inched toward him. The end was near. Seth of Valeria could imagine it all. As the beast came closer it would slowly open its mouth and show of its teeth. It would take both Seth and the raft, chew a few times and then spit. Seth could still be alive to drown or suffer loss of blood before the beast would eat him.
He could escape. He could leave the raft. He'd probably sink, pulled down by his armor and the sword, drown or get eaten. He could throw them away first, and with them his only chance to fight.
Slowly the serpents mouth opened.

Thoughts raced through his head, he'd faced death countless times and prevailed, yet this time he saw no way out, no escape. The beast was close enough now for Seth to see splinters of wood lodged between its teeth. It would suffer for a long time. A normal animal would've left him alone, but this one was fueled by revenge and hate.
Seth of Valeria tried to think, tried to see a way out, but he'd spent the last hours of his life thinking about ship names and could not get them out of his head.
"By Mara's breath, this is it." he whispered to himself. He could not see a way out. He shivered, cold water freezing his feet.

The beast stopped suddenly and closet its huge mouth. It looked at him, nothing more. An eternity passed by and the beast kept looking at him. Then it dropped below.
Seth of Valeria closed his eyes and held his breath. Any second he'd feel the bite of sharp teeth, he'd be pulled down, drowned and eaten. His eyes hurt, his lunges fought back. He was forced to let go, and breathed quickly. He opened his eyes, searched for the agent of his demise. The lake was silent. A few waves rocked the raft gently back and forth. No shadow, no roar, no sharp teeth.
He laid out there at least half an hour, waited for the beast to strike. But it had vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. Slowly, cautious, careful not to make big movements he once again started to paddle with his feet. As time passed he became braver, more certain that the beast was gone. He cried out for help when he came close enough to land to see people and was rewarded. A fishing boat came, strong men pulled the nobleman out of the water and put a warm blanket around his shoulders. Before he knew what to say in thanks the boat struck sand. The men helped him out of the boat and sat him down on a pile of rope, where he could overlook the lake and the working fishermen. He sat there quietly, truly speechless. His mind still filled with only one thing, what a horrible name for a boat he'd picked.

"Ulrisk. My name is Ulrisk. But someone LOOKING for me terrifies me a bit, especially when they find me just like this. Well, in this case, I have found you. Witches were not welcome members of society, sometimes openly hated and hunted, and Nianxi understood his fears. "Wait, did you say House Serilya? THE House Serilya? The one helping us out? The one possessing that sword?" Ulrisk stood up with excitement, any hints of fear disappearing from his face. "Are we that easy to recognize?" Yes, they were. You didn't even need any fancy schooling to recognize one by their attire, just seeing a few before. However, it was getting dark, so Ulrisk and Nianxi moved a bit further off road, just be a bit more safe, though spending a night in orc infested territory did not seem very appealing. But neither was walking by the main road at night. Setting up a campfire which could not be seen by anyone walking by the road, the two took a few bites of dried meat Nianxi provided, discussed their family history, and what Nianxi wants from Ulrisk.

After a brief skim through, Ulrisk handed the books back with a sigh. "That's ancient elven, I'm afraid. We Witches aren't very fluent in foreign languages, especially ancient ones. I doubt there are many elves who could read it to begin with. Maybe some kind of elven nobility. I'm sorry, I really can't help you any more with this." Nianxi was waiting for the disappointment to hit her like a rock, but it didn't. All she had in herself was anger and hate, though contained at the moment. Placing the books back in the backpack, Nianxi tried to recall if she had seen any elves - she didn't. And she needed a nobleman. Meeting one somehow - if only by ridiculous luck, the only way she could move forward, that, or trial and error. And after she almost killed herself via trial, Serilya nearly killing her due to sudden blood loss, Nianxi (and Xiandra) preferred to avoid any more trial and error discoveries. After setting up her bedroll to sleep the night away, Nianxi could not fall asleep easily, and instead spent the time reflecting on her life.

The most surprising development was that the overwhelming hate Nianxi has felt since that fateful day in Velron was tamed. Sharing it with her alter ego seemed to dampen it, though not completely eliminate it. Further reflections upon the events leading up until now and internal discussions with Xiandra (Nianxi finally learned to "speak" to her without speaking out loud and looking like a lunatic) brought the horrible truth - the demonic flame that fractured her soul have literally torn apart her emotions and desires. Hatred, wrath, (blood)lust - were defining aspects of Nianxi, as sadism, pride and envy defined Xiandra. It dawned upon them that after Velron, Nianxi literally could not feel joy, hope or any positive emotion. And that dream - was it the soul trying to cure itself, to bind the fragments of the soul with the scattered emotions, making it whole again? And what was the spectre? The vision of the future, should Nianxi succumb to demonic influences? And what would happen once the soul is whole again? So many questions, and no answers.

After a restless sleep in a rather hostile forest, Nianxi the her new friend decided to hit the road to find another camp, and maybe, just maybe - an elven noble.

Seth of Valeria was in shock, a special kind of shock that only came when something utterly unexpected had just happened.
He was a swordsman, he earned his daily bread using this tool and would surely one day die still clutching it. Over the years he’d face many opponents. Scavangers and looters, bandits, other mercenaries. Orcs, he had lost count… Even a demon or two had tasted his blade and fallen. He’d been prepared to die every time he’d drawn the blade of Valeria, and each time his skill, preparation, vigour, luck or simply his ability to take a beating had ensured his victory. Today something he had not been prepared for at all had happened.

He hadn’t expected to survive.

But he was alive. He patted himself down, ensured to himself that he still had a body. People walking past met his eyes, they smiled and nodded, he did the same. If he was indeed dead then the afterlife was a grand bit duller than the priests had told him. He stood up and let the blanket fall. Some of the fishermen saw him and spoke in between themselves, a boy quickly dropped what he was doing and came running.
“I think I am fine” said the nobleman and gestured the boy to get back to what he was doing.
“Mister, sit. Pappa said you should sit” the boy told him and picked up the blanket. Still in a daze Seth of Valeria sat down and watched the boy return to his duties. He sat for a good while until he once again stood up. This time he turned around and caught the blanket before it hit the ground. He tried folding it, but couldn’t quite get the ends to meet and had just given up when he saw the boy come running once again.
“This time I am sure I am fine” he said and handed the boy his poorly folded parcel.
“Pappa says it’s ok now. But take it easy, alright?”

Seth of Valeria only nodded and walked away. At first he wobbled around like a drunkard, but soon his feet remembered how to walk and did their best to keep him from bumping into things. He didn’t think about where he was going, but he had an urge to move. People on the street stopped, some gave him a helpful nudge away from delicate objects, others just stared. He kept going. He’d almost reached the end of the village when the wind changed and brought with it the smell of food. His stomach suddenly came alive and informed Seth that he was very hungry. The smell seemed to come from some sort of establishment and upon asking about it he got the idea that they would indeed serve him food. A middle aged woman looked worried, but set a plate in front of him and watched him empty it. As he asked for more she obliged him. As the third plate was emptied the woman carefully asked him for compensation. Seth of Valeria opened his money pouch and looked inside. After a moment of contemplation he selected a beautiful golden coin and handed it to the woman and continued to eat. The woman looked even more worried and called a man to her.
“Look at that sword, he must be here for master Cylus. Go to him and tell him to come quickly” he said and took up position by the door.

The Sun was past the middle of the word and the sky was filled with clouds. In the distance a storm brewed, and flashes of light streaked across the sky. The air was humid and hot. The dull sound of wood being hit against wood could also be heard as Cylus’ students spared in the grove.

Cylus, himself, was buried in thought. He was attempting to put the pieces together with the happenings of the demons. Bile openly attacking a village, though clearly not exerting himself. He rubbed his chin. If his intentions were to destroy it he could have easily gone by me and done so . . . perhaps the beast was enjoying itself? Cylus put the students to do their next activity. What are the demon’s intentions? If they wanted to kill all of the humans, it would have been done. Could they- “Master Cylus!” The call came from a young man, Edward. “There is a man in town to see you!” Edward was on the edge of the grove.

“Go to him and say that I am coming!” The boy nodded and ran back to the village. Cylus turned to his students and finished explaining the day’s lesson. He then began the walk back to Astoria.

The gate was not very impressive, it was fashioned from logs and was sturdy enough to be used in defense. The gate parted as he and his students approached, the village slowly coming into view. Cylus walked into the village and was stopped by the boy once more. “I’ve told him that you’re coming. I’ll show you where he is.” The boy turned and Cylus followed, his hand on his blade. They came to a house near the gate.

“So he’s with Martel then?” the boy knocked on the door then opened it.

“Martel, Cylus has come.” Edward told the woman, who had streaks of grey hair.

Cylus saw the man who Edward had told him about. The old man walked over to the younger man and observed him, head to toe. He’d noticed a few things about him, this man was a noble, though he’d been fighting for years by the looks of him, but he hadn’t lost the noble demeanor. He continued observing for a moment, and found something even more interesting . . . “How does the head of the House of Valeria find himself in a town such as Astoria?”

Seth of Valeria looked up, an old man had arrived and was looking straight at him like he should know better. Seth tried to keep an interest in the man but his attention seemed to slip and more than once he found himself looking at the floor, table, other people or ornaments on the walls. It was such a pretty house, you couldn’t blame him for looking. The walls were covered in tools of various kinds, he wondered whether they were really for decoration or if they were being used as well. Perhaps the table was made using those tools. He ran his hand across the smooth surface of the table and almost knocked over his drink, but someone caught it and put it back a bit further away from him. Somehow that was just like life for Seth of Valeria, the things he wanted was just outside of his reach, and he was thirsty. It was a bit odd, he’d drank at least three cups of water already, and still wanted more. He was hungry as well, his plate had disappeared from right under his nose. He looked around the room, several people were there, one of them must’ve taken it. One older man was looking right at him, but that didn’t bother him right now. Or maybe that old fart had stolen his food. Damnit! He’d paid for that… Had he paid for the food? He couldn’t remember… Something below him caught his eye. If was a coin, a golden coin. He had paid! He knew it… Well then, with that taken care of it was time to go, lovely meal, some of it was stuck in his teeth, but he’d take care of that later, food for the road as they called it. Why said that? Really? He’d picked it up somewhere and just kept it alive. It was pretty disgusting after all, nothing that was fitting for nobility like himself.

“How does the head of the House of Valeria find himself in a town such as Astoria?”

Good question, not a regular sight, nobility like him in such a place. Had he ever been there before? Couldn’t remember, not that there was anything worth remembering, they used tools for decoration for crying out loud. Anyone ever heard of a tapestry? Poor people…
There was an old man looking at him, strange, had he ever seen the man before? there was something vaguely familiar about him. He looked funny, like he expected something of him. Something below caught his eye, a coin! Of course, he had to pay for his meal. A whole gold coin?! For what? Had he eaten? Did they expect him to pay up front? Barbarism, pure barbarism.
He tried to grasp the coin, but as it was flat and against a flat surface he had some trouble. Beautiful table, wonderful craftsmanship, he should ask the man who’d made it to come to Veiron and work for him. Maybe it was his tools up on the walls, brilliant idea, the tools of a master, just like him having the blade of Valeria on the wall back home… Great minds and all that. Finally he grasped the coin and held it out to the man, but the old fart just took it and put it back on the table. can’t make change, eh? Well then don’t ask for gold coins, dumbass.
The old man spoke as Seth tried to get a smaller coin out from his pouch without spilling all of his wealth out on the floor, a silver coin came up and Seth’s vision only caught the man’s mouth moving, his ears on the other hand was on vacation.

“Pardon?” Seth of Valeria said.
“How does the head of the House of Valeria find himself in a town such as Astoria?” Replied the man. Suddenly it dawned on him what all the ruckus was about, an admirer, of course. We’ll, he’d sure impress the man with his latest tale, the one about a seaserpent, he’d been working on it all morning, it seemed quite real.
“Well, my good boat, a man sailed the snake and hurried home to the sea when an oar struck the house in the sword on my hand.”

Hold on, that was it, the boat. He’d spoken with the seamen before, they’d show him a snake… He had to hurry.

With a mind as clear as a London morning Seth of Valeria stood up, spun around perfectly and somehow managed to miss both walls that framed the door and was on his way back toward the small harbour.

After Verion, Cylus had been contacted by the Warriors of Farest many times. They had heard of what he’d done during the Great War, word of his slaying the demon had reached their ears. Cylus of course, being that he craves not honor but redemption, he has no desire for battle lust but for forgiveness, declined their call as many times as it came until, at last, they halted.

Cylus felt that for years he did the duty of the Warriors, their duty to protect the people from all threats, not just demons. Most feel that they don’t even do their duty in eliminating demons and use it for the purpose of gaining fame and honor. Cylus would have none of it.

“The Warriors of Farest abandoned their honor when they failed to save Verion!” He had told the last messenger before the man had left. Just afterward, Cylus had sat and whispered to himself, “So did I.” and took another swig of brandy. The Colted Foal was the inn he had lived in for his first few months in Astoria, he’d been taken in by these people and given a home. During this time, Astoria was home to many refugee’s. Cylus never wanted his location to reach military ears, they’d either label him a deserter or promote him to a high position, the former was most likely.

Now he found himself with Valeria’s Head in Martel’s home. He’d been eating, but as Cylus entered Martel took the plate presumably so they could talk. She had such a pretty and humble home, by far he most valuable possession was her table upon which this nobleman ate.

As Cylus asked the man the question, “How does the head of the House of Valeria find himself in a town such as Astoria?” the man began looking around quite confused, the old man had repeated the question and the noble man began splitting nonsense. He jumped up, seeming to realize something suddenly, began out the door and collapsed. As he did so, Martel let out a small scream.

"Edward!" Cylus called into the house from where the man had collapsed. "Help me carry this man to The Colted Foal." Edward had stumbled out if the house, he'd hit his knee as he jumped up. "I'd like a word with him when he wakes." Together they lifted him and carried the man to the inn and the old man rented him a room.

Hang on... Rewrite.