Prologue

The inconsistent drumming of heavy rain carried by a strong seasonal wind filled the cottage. A scarcely furnished bedroom seemed desaturated by the stormy night, leaving nothing but a cold, monotone grey. The flimsy, ill-kempt house seemed to sway in the vicious weather, invoking skittering of frightened rodents within shadowed corners. The rolling and rumbling of thunder would rattle the fragile windows every few minutes. A few toys lay littered across the floor, with a dusty wardrobe against one of the walls and an unmade bed against another. Everything seemed to cast a disfigured darkness, like something from portrait. A dull light crept in beneath the bedroom door, which swung open moments later. A woman walked in, holding a grimy oil lantern high above her head and scanning her surroundings, wearing a mask of feigned vigilance. She gave a quick nod, glancing over her shoulder and saying, softly Nothin in here, sweetie. Come on... she gave a warm smile as a small boy entered, already dressed for bed in some comfortable cotton pyjamas. He crept past his mother, his widened pupils darting from left to right, from the ceiling to the corners. The mother rolled her eyes, walking to each of the corners in turn and bathing them in the lanterns dim glow See? Absolutely nothin... she said, concealing a yawn behind her hand ...Go to bed... Wyatt... ...But ma... the child objected No buts. You cant keep doin this, hun... Every night with ya... Mommies need sleep too... She jabbed her finger through the air, sternly pointing to the bed Now, bed, mister! The young boy shuffled his way across the creaking wooden floorboards to his bunk, an expression that would match a death row prisoners on his face. Wyatt climbed under the slightly ragged sheets, and the flimsy and fragile legs groaned under the added weight. He remained sat upright, still surveying the area, the blanket clasped in his pale hands. His mother smiled before moving to the door Good night, now... Ma! Wait! She froze in her tracks, sighing silently before turning towards her son again ...Yes?... Uh, could... uh... you tell me a story?... I could tell ya the one about the very tired mother again? Remember that one? ...Yeaaaah.... the child replied, almost guiltily Remember what the very tired mother did at the end of the story?... ...She beat her kids with a branding iron... Thats right. Now Id never do such a horrible thing, but if the tiredness builds up... Well... I aint gonna be held accountable for what I do, now, am I? ...No.... Wyatt said, hanging his head. His mother walked over, the floorboards creaking, the shadows from a tree outside dispersing under the half-hearted radiance of the hand held lamp. She sat on the end of the bed, still holding the flickering candle lantern up Wyatt... Ya know ya can tell me anythin... I know... Are ya sure ya dont wanna talk about whats REALLY keepin ya up? Are ya scared of the dark? Because honestly, sweetie, we can get through that... I aint scared of the dark! Im tellin the truth! Wyatt wailed, thudding his fist against his duvet Well... then... his mother said, anxiously maybe ya should talk with the doctor again! cause ya clearly seein things that arent there!

Why dont ya believe me!? Well, honestly, hun, its because I think ya messed up in the head... Wyatt looked horrified ... Well! Ya talk to yaself, ya see things that aint there... Im talkin to... No one! Ya aint talkin to ANYONE! Ok?! Again, Wyatt fell silent while his mother closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. ...Sweetie, Im sorry... I... just want whats best for ya... The boy stared up at his mother before gazing down at the floor ...I can be normal, ma... Yall never be normal... Yall always be my special lil boy... But yeah, lifed be a hell of a lot easier if ya werent THIS special... ...Im sorry... Wyatt whispered, rubbing his eyes ...Aw... his mother leant forward and hugged him Dont need to be sorry... I love ya, ok? She kissed his forehead and ruffled his short brown hair Now, do ya think ma can go to bed too? Wyatt weakly giggled and gave a reluctant nod Uh huh... As Tess, Wyatts mother, stood up and moved to the door, dragging the pleasant glow of the lantern with her, something shifted in the rooms farthest dusky edge. A pair of eyes glinted forth, setting upon Wyatt, who stared back, pulling the tattered sheets a little over his body, defensively. Tess glanced at her sons fearful features and held the door ajar, standing in the frame ...Whats wrong? She asked. Wyatt stared at the looming silhouette in the corner. As he watched, it brought a wispy finger to its lips, before winking, slyly. The boy tore his focus from the apparition, instead eyeing his mother ....Nothin.... he said ...See?... Im... normal... Alright, sweetie. Sleep well. She pulled the door half closed, the light in the room fading, and the shady figure in the corner sliding from sight And remember, Wyatt... She gave him a warm smile Theres no such thing as ghosts...

Chapter One Fern

You know that phrase people use when they express how unlikely something is? When Hell Freezes Over, thats what they say. Sure, Johnny, you can take me to the dance, when hell freezes over. Charming, I know... But heres the beauty of it. Looks like a lot of bold individuals will be doing a lot of unlikely things... because Hell has frozen over... In fact, Hell freezes over every single year. Trust me... Weve all seen it. Rime... Thats the name of this world. Appropriate, yes? Just to clarify, thats Rime, the kind of ice, not Rhyme, the use of poetic sound similarity. Rime has a minor elliptic orbit, according to the scientists that live in the biggest houses in the biggest cities. Thats the name given to worlds that, during their hasty trip around the systems star, they have a slight gravitational slingshot irregularity... Now I mean SLIGHT, here. The planet remains... hospitable, just about... but for half of our year, were further from the sun, and the oceans become solid. Harsh conditions sire a harsh learning environment. In a world where plants often struggle to grow, a fierce bunch of predators out there will happily chow you down just to preserve their own existence. If the cold and the local fauna dont kill you, then we have a fine selection of bandits and murderous cults who fend for themselves by making sure others cant fend for themselves... And then theres the war between the monsters that live across the sea; the Fenrye. Every full moon heralds an attack, somehow, somewhere. Our forces are spread thin to keep everything in check and preserving the faint illusion of safety and peace... Not the mention the ley, the rogue gods, the Formless, the Wranglers... Its not a question of being afraid or not anymore... its simply a matter of choosing which things scare you most. How do we survive? The same way anything survives in extreme conditions: We adapt, we evolve. We use our brains and our bodies. We fight and we flee, we learn of our threats and we strategise... Or at least, we try. Fact is, theres not many of us left. We live in a harshly under populated world... But... When all else fails... When the flickering light of hope extinguishes with a puff of abolishing smoke... When the world wails with the torment caused by its own denizens, and we fear to step from our own secure thresholds... Something stirs in the mountains. It stirs with a vengeance as cold as the Glacenox winds, and evil pales in its presence... You would not know of what I speak, Wyatt Rook. You are ill-educated, reckless, disregarding of the basic laws of your own culture, but you possess that which the general populace could scarcely imagine. You will be targeted, victimised, feared, but also respected, maybe even loved, but all for a good purpose. Your world will be snatched from you, and your very purpose in life shall be totally transformed. Your goals will become obsolete, replaced by those serving a higher cause. Your scepticism sired by reassurance will be scattered like ashes in a storm. You will stare into the endless depths of the Pale itself, and in that moment, the true extent of your mental integrity shall be put to the test. Your identity shall be rewritten. You will become a myth, a campfire tale, and, although you shall be remembered, your disappearance will remain a mystery. To you, Wyatt, this is just a dream. For now, feel free to take solace in your disingenuity, but soon, you will have to open your eyes and your mind. But first of course...You have to wake up.

Wyatts eyes almost sprung open, a look of fixed determination on his face; he didnt have long. He rolled over in his prickly, poorly kept hay bed and reached over to a book lying face down upon a bedside table. These over informative dreams had been hounding him for nearly a year now. It was like a voice other than his own was jacking them and sending him annoyingly cryptic messages. Dreams were dreams, they didnt have to be complicated; they could just be delightfully spontaneous. Flipping over the book, it revealed the title: PACT DICTIONARY. Wyatt grabbed it and quickly began to flick through the pages, going to the Ds. Already the dream was fading from his memory, any second now he wouldnt be able to remember what he was looking for anymore. There it was! Disingenuity: Pretending you dont know or recognise something fully through forced insincerity. Wyatt gave an enlightened nod to himself before flicking further into the book to the Is. Insincerity.... Knock knock knock, interrupted the door, rudely. Wyatt jolted; he was not expecting guests. Tucking the dictionary below the muddy sheets, he climbed out of bed and thudded down to the murky wooden planks of his abodes floor. It was a simple, draughty little cottage, only about twelve square metres in width and length. His bed was against the back wall with a small kitchen area in the front right corner, a few chairs and tables placed clumsily in the centre and a stone hearth against the left wall, the only piece of stone furnishing in the entire house. The morning sunrise released glowing shafts through one of the windows, the silhouettes of spider shadows shuffling about as they moved against the glass. It was a simple home to stay in during the warmer parts of the year. Unfortunately, the insulation was poor and the cold could breach the wooden walls during Glacenox. He was in the process of fixing this, but doing so cost money, and money was somewhat scarce lately. Beside a creaking wardrobe was a scratched mirror, which the half naked Wyatt positioned himself in front of and stared into. A rugged, stubbled man in his early twenties looked back, some rough, jagged, dark brown hair falling in front of his grey eyes. He was about six foot in height and quite well built. A few marks and scars were on his chest and arms, but on Rime, everyone had a few scars; even children. He rubbed his chin and tilted his head from side to side. He sighed as he exposed his neck, spotting a large red mark which immediately started to itch as his mind told him it should. Damn vampire syse... those little critters must have been getting in under the door again. More knocking filled the cabin as Wyatt rapidly garbed himself in some loose fitting hide trousers and shirt which he had acquired from his cupboard. Rook? Rook! Get ya ass out of bed! a muffled voice bellowed through the flimsy wooden door. Rook?! CMON! Ill get there when I get there! Wyatt shouted back, wrapping a scarf around his shoulders. During Lumina, the hottest season of the year, the scarf wasnt really for keeping warm, but it fit his aesthetic style and was also useful in his line of work. Wyatt drearily padded to his front door and began pulling and sliding at the dozen locks that held it closed. This better be good he said, stifling a yawn. When have I ever disappointed ya? the voice replied over the series of clicks ...I cant think of a way of answering that without offending you or lying. Up yours. This is good, trust me

The door swung open to reveal another man leaning against the wooden frame. His blonde hair was as ruffled as Wyatts and he had a cheeky smirk on his face as his friend came into sight. He was kitted out in leather armour with a single shoulder pad and a hunting bow clutched in his left hand. Wyatt squinted a little in the sunlight, eyeing the visitor up and down You look ready to fight a war... he muttered, rubbing his eyes Close Aston answered. He gestured towards a small gathering two dozen metres down the road. About six other men were standing there, each of them wearing protective outfits and wielding weapons as well Were going hunting Im sure those deer will get a few punches in before you beat them... Nah nah, mate. Weve found a sleeper Wyatt frowned. Sleepers... one of Everlast Forests most dangerous creatures. ...Well that explains the armour. I assume youre going to offer him your weapons as the spoils of war? Were goin to kill it, you daft nob No... No... That cant be it... grumbled Rook as he watched one of the grouped hunters drop his spear like a child with a toy This is a bad idea... Its the middle of Lumina... Thats the beauty of sleepers... They sleep. said Aston. His patience was quick to exhaust and Wyatt knew this. The two of them had been friends for twelve years, since they were both kids. So you want to kill a troll while its snoozing away... and you need a whole army for that? Well it might wake up... REALLY?! cried Rook, throwing his arms into the air and forcing a heavy amount of sarcasm How could that be possible?! Sleeping things WAKE UP?!! I need to write this down! he rushed back into his house, grabbing a notepad and bringing it back to Aston, whos expression was far from amused The scientists must know! This is ground breaking! Aston finally stopped him. While I admire your commitment to this bit, ya can stop now. Wyatt lowered his arms, slapping them gently to his sides, answering only with a raised eyebrow to express his disbelief Come on, man! Aston continued Ya realise how much folk pay for a good bit of sleeper hide? That stuff is warm! Besides that, when it wakes up in sixty days or so, itll be a threat. We could be savin lives here! Sleepers are nasty. Let the experts handle it And let them take all the riches? Face it, Rook... We both need the cash Wyatt waved a hand in dismissal. I also have a powerful need to keep all my limbs intact. Call off this hunt. No good will come of it. Even as he said it, he knew it was pointless. Aston was one of the most stubborn people he had ever met. Seconds later, he received the answer he was expecting Fine... Well do this without ya. If ya get killed by a sleeper during Glacenox, well... I hope in yer last moments, ya realise we couldave stopped them together. Whatever... said Wyatt, quietly. Aston sighed and turned away. As he walked towards the rag tag group, Wyatt called after him Just be careful. Theres no point dying for this thing. If it gets hairy, leg it, alright? Gotcha! Aston yelled back Run down-hill! Sleepers suck at that! I knoooooow Astons voice bellowed as it faded into the forest which Wyatts house was built on the edge of.

Wyatt stood in the doorway of his home for a few minutes, contemplating going back to bed. He eventually decided against it, putting on a pair of chewed boots, stepping out into the dawns air and shutting the door behind him. The sickly sweet smell of Luminas blossoming plant life instantly filled his nostrils. On Rime, plants could not bloom during the cold, so they rapidly did so during the warm part of the year, emitting powerful scents and displaying vivid colours to attract insects for pollination. Even the vegetation was in a constant battle of survival of the fittest. The prettiest and nicest smelling flowers won, simple as that. When you dont consider the reasoning behind the visual spectacle, it was truly beautiful, a sight rarely seen on this harsh planet. Stretching, Rook set off round his house. Turning the corner, a village came into view with its citizens milling about, setting up market stalls and sweeping the streets. Children were running about, laughing and playing while adults that werent working were stood in small groups or pairs, chatting with one another. It was a normal day in Fern. Fern was a fairly unimpressive village built on the road to the humans capital; the city of Sanctus. It was in the region known as the Everlast Woods (named so due to its ability to remain green even during Glacenox), built in a neat little man made clearing, but surrounded by tall trees. The forest was huge, covering the entire west side of Sovreignous, the continent which played host to the civilised world. Wyatt surveyed the area. Most of these people knew who he was by now, unfortunately. His line of work was difficult when potential marks knew of his intentions. He innocently strolled into town, immediately attracting the attention of a mixture of people. He received some looks of respect, some nods, some smiles, but also glares and a few spits. A woman in dark leathers was leant against the local taverns wall, eyeing the crowds in an identical way to him. Wyatt trotted over, confidence conveyed in his strides. He casually leant against the wall beside the woman, who had dark red hair which reached her shoulders and a slightly tribal tattoo on her cheek which coiled around her left eye. Similarly to him, she also had a scarf wrapped around her shoulders. Morning, Aris... Rook said, not looking at her, but staring into the milling human mass. He received no reply, causing a smirk to curl across his lips. The two of them stood in silence for about two minutes, their eyes darting from person to person, like a machine set to scan for suspicious objects. Aris eventually turned her head, eyeing the red swelling upon Rooks neck. ...Busy night? she said, quietly, coldly, as if harbouring some unexplained loathing. Wyatt raised an eyebrow before blinking with realisation. He brought a hand to the mark and rubbed it Its just a... Love bite? Aris interrupted, her voice still as smooth as a blanket of untouched snow. Something like that... Its a syse bite. Ah... Well you probably shouldnt let them do that... I didnt LET the farl damn thing bite me! I was asleep! Come on! Now a syse is making you jealous? Aris scoffed, straightening up from her leaning position Im not insane Wyatt folded his arms I said you were jealous With you, Rook, the two of them come hand in hand Rook opened his mouth to retort, but grunted in submission ...Touch... I got nothing He lined his gaze up with Ariss. She had lost interest in the villagers, and was now instead staring down the eastern road, as if waiting. She had a glint in her eye which

Rook recognised; she got it whenever she was on the figurative prowl for something. Wyatt felt the sarcasm welling up within him. Finally built up the strength to steal the road? he said, masking his jocosity behind a bitten lip. Aris forced a loud sigh. Yes, Wyatt... Im going to steal the road... Nah, seriously he remained leant against the wall while Aris turned towards him Theres been some sort of logging accident on the south road. A trees blocked it off, meaning the trade caravans from Fordale have to divert through Fern while its being cleared. Wyatt looked intrigued. And you wanna hit it on familiar ground? she gave a nod before pointing to the west I was planning to use the forest a little out of town to avoid attracting too much attention... You know the old yerk tree that always somehow looks really, really mischievous? Of course I know the Quirky Yerk! Yeah... I was thinking about masking my approach with it... As she spoke, Ariss boldness seemed to waver. It was perfectly understandable. This did not sound easy at all. Those Sanctus caravans always have at least three guards. Four, on this one. Yeah... What are you gonna do about that? Youre not a murderer. Truth be told... I dont know yet... A feeling stirring inside Wyatt gave him a sense of dj vu. Dont throw your life away for a few riches. I already had to try and talk Aston out of hunting a sleeper and that didnt go well. Ive got a few hours. I can think of something. She looked at Wyatt again Wanna collaborate? Split it fifty-fifty? Raiding a Wolfbane Pact caravan... that would keep Wyatt fed for months, maybe even years. He could move out of his freezing cabin, buy a nice little place closer to the city where the marks were blissfully unaware. It was tempting, especially considering the fact that human soldiers are much less frightening than sleepers. Although, then there was the negative side to all this; the murky prison cells, the harassment from the law, the prospect of being forced to fight in the war like so many prisoners were these days just to bolster the dwindling ranks. Wyatts excitement faded. Aris rolled her eyes as she noticed his mood shift Im not forcing you to do anything. I could really use... Well I mean... I dont NEED you but... I could... Wyatt could almost see the poor girl squirm as she fought to find the right words I just... would appreciate it. Wyatt broke away from the tavern wall and stood a few feet in front of Aris, he gave her an apologetic smile before shrugging Sorry. I just aint desperate enough yet t-... He was cut off as several fat fingers suddenly gripped his shoulder and aggressively turned him around. Rook was met with a hulk of a man, his eyes blazing, his mouth twisted into a vicious snarl, the morning light reflecting off his shaven head Rook... Wyatt instantly began to panic (internally of course) Grieves... I was just thinking about you... the vice grip grew tighter upon Rooks shoulder I believe we had an arrangement... the lug continued, his voice gruff and grinding like a broken saw mill. We do! Uh... Wyatt winced, the pain starting to get to him Ill get you the money as soon as- I want it now... Well! Great! I love your enthusiasm buuuut... Wyatts eyes darted in all directions. Perhaps there was some means of escape? NOW, ROOK!

I cant give it to you now! I dont ha- ARGH! he yelled with pain as the hold grew even stronger, his shoulder clicking somewhat unhealthily You have till midnight... Meet me inside... Or Ill hunt you down like a gnoll... he pointed his free hand to the tavern they were stood outside before hurling Rook to the ground and storming off. Aris and Wyatt watched the troglodyte floor a few villagers as he ploughed his way through them. Wyatt groaned and held his arm, allowing Aris to haul him to his feet. Quite the warrior, Rook she said, almost sweetly. What did you do? Lose at cards? Spill his drink? Wyatt dusted himself down as he answered No... Just your standard loan shark beat down...Thanks for the copious amounts of help, by the way... Aris slapped a palm to her face You borrowed money from Grieves?... She shook her head Idiot! Hey! Dont give me that crap. Im...- Desperate? Aris interjected. Wyatt peered at her for a moment. Hed played right into her hands. Again. ....Yeah.... he looked at the ground, scuffing his foot against the forests dusty terrain before fixing his eyes upon Aris again Im in. Of course you are. Aris smiled Meet me at the tree a midday. She reached a hand over and stroked Rooks cheek, making him go as rigid as a statue. Her eyes glinted and she said, seductively Dont keep me waiting... before turning and walking off, her hips swaying rhythmically from left to right. A conversation with Aris wouldnt be right if it wasnt blindingly inconsistent. Wyatt watched her leave, fairly obviously. A group of elderly women walking by gave him a selection of disapproving scowls, which, sadly, went somewhat unnoticed. Shaking his head to relieve himself from the moment that had just passed, Wyatt span around to face the market, which was still under construction. Every presentable morning in Fern, the market stalls were quickly assembled from wooden pieces that simply slotted together. The townsfolk no longer left the stalls out overnight following incidents with destructive wildlife and weather. The markets stock varied from day to day. It was always a fairly simple selection, as it was a secluded town. The merchants of Sanctus always had a much more diverse inventory on display but there was enough here to get by, so long as you could afford it. Unlike the city, you could sell anything here without a signed permit, and there was usually a host of potential employment opportunities to choose from due to the areas mortality rate. Aston worked at the local tanners... There was already a new now hiring! sign in the shops window. Hilarious, if not a little disconcerting: Apparently Astons boss had about as much faith in him as Rook did. His stomach rumbled, bringing back the unwelcome truth; he hadnt eaten for a whole day. The hustle and bustle of the market place revealed a pleasing sight; a long coated man with a pointy, wispy long beard, snow white in colour, setting up a food store. He was struggling with what appeared to be a sack of potatoes, trying to haul it up onto the wooden stall for all to see. In a flash, Wyatt was there, lifting the sack from the mans grasp and placing it down in front of its price tag upon the elevated wooden platform. The old man gave a slightly shrouded smile to Rook before indicating to a number of other heavy bags of produce with his walking stick Might as well make yourself useful while youre here, Rook he said. Three days in a row youve turned up. Times really are hard for you... Several more sacks clunked down beside the first one as Wyatt released them with a slight grunt

A little generosity never hurt anyone...he went to pick up a large swollen Glacenox pumpkin Surely a man as kind and respected as yourself would appreciate such a sentiment, right, Gat? Youre doing this out of generosity? What?! No! No, no, no, no! You misunderstand! Im suggesting that you should be generous Ah, so you are here to scrounge more food out of me? The pumpkin hit the stall with a loud thud ...Well Im working for it... You work for five minutes and then bugger off, every time. You cant stick with a single job. Gat tapped Rooks skull with the sticks knotted end. The pain was greater than Rook anticipated and he recoiled, shouting. ...Because you lack the patience Gat continued, without even a hint of remorse. You live with adrenaline and danger. With such wild desires, you will never grow to the age I have Gat snatched up a loaf of homemade bread and tossed it to Wyatt. He caught it with his spare hand, the other still vigorously rubbing his head and checking for lumps. But I doubt that bothers you. Enjoy your meal, boy. Same time tomorrow, I trust? Well hold up, Gat. How do you know I dont want a full time job? Gat raised an eyebrow. Wyatt sighed, giving an exasperated shrug Youre right. That would be silly. He began to depart, stopping only as Gat called after him Your mother was looking for you! Wyatt rolled his eyes. Great, he thought, what the farl did she want now? Why? he called back, without turning. Maybe to express her disappointment in your career choices? Maybe shes found you a new job you can turn down, favouring a life of crime instead? Tell her Im busy... I did. Again. Shes starting to grow suspicious. I can tell her youre spending your time with some fiery new lass? he pointed his stick towards the red irritated mark on Wyatts neck. Wyatt twirled around and shook his head, urgently Dont do that! And this isnt a love bite! Its a vampire syse! It got in my house while I was sleeping! Gat chuckled Whatever you say... Im telling the truth! For... Urgh, just dont tell ma Im avoiding her. Come on, were friends, right?! Wyatt took a bite out of the bread loaf, watching Gat expectantly. The old man shiftily looked to the left This is... news to me... He grinned. Wyatt muttered, his words incomprehensible thanks to a mouthful of bread. Gat glanced to the bite again ...Rook, get yourself to a doctor. You know how nasty bloodfever is. A few people have got it from vampire syse bites in the last two weeks. Rook rubbed the swelling, giving a slight shrug. He swallowed, closing his eyes happily before replying Mhm... Im sure Ill live. Besides, I dont trust that Wolfbane Pact healer... Gats first customer came over and began inspecting his wares. Gat gave him a smile and an acknowledging greeting before turning back towards Wyatt Why not? Well... Shes a leyborn, aint she? Wyatt instantly realised his mistake as he watched Gats expression darken like a stormy cloud passing over a clear sky ...Not that... Uh... Theres anything wrong with that! You... your gods! They are... so great. Those... Ooo... I love them all... With their... godliness... and their faces... yeah... Gats glare seemed to fire up even more. ... I was just... saying... I mean the King... the Wranglers... I doubt they are lying... I mean leyborn can be

dangerous... Gats attention fell back to his customer, who had selected the pumpkin Wyatt had handled earlier and was now purchasing it. The exchange was quick and the stranger walked off, pumpkin in arms. Gat pocketed the coins, taking a deep breath to calm himself. The leyborn have nothing to do with my faith... Rook... They are just born with a blessing... A blessing? Thats what you call it? Oh who am I kidding, of course you do. Anything to do with the ley and youre a damn fanatic. Gat remained silent. Wyatts expression softened ...Im sorry... That was... cold. You know how I feel about the Immortals...If it werent for them then we wouldnt have the fenrye and a lot of people I like would still be alive... Gat sighed, rubbing his back a little, an ounce of strain in his response Its easy to find reasons to hate the Seven. So few are still loyal to them Then why are you? Wyatt asked, sincerely and sensitively. Gat gave a weak smile Ive lived long enough to know that the world would be a better place if the Divines were still here, Rook... It couldnt possibly be worse. The legends say that in their time, Glacenox was banished. It was this warm all year... Heh... That sounds pretty good... Just a myth though... I feel like so many people just worship shadows... just because of the ley If you can find a way to explain it with science, I will embrace your ideas. The leyborn are individuals affected by the Leylines, the net of power created by the seven Divines to hold Rime in space... Leylines exist. I dont believe your gods made them. Gat scoffed and laughed, it was like talking to a child Ha! Then what did make them? Wyatt flailed his hands as he tried to conjure up an intelligent answer I... I dunno! Maybe they are just a natural occurrence. You think its natural that some people can control the waves, can ride winds, can heal the sick and take life away with a glance? The powers of the leyborn clearly originate from a divine source. You Faithful... You never embrace the unknown... Its always just Gods did it. What do you people think about Rime itself? Rime is a trial: Living a sinful life results in you being reborn here. It is the underworld and you remain here until you are deemed worthy to ascend into Benedis upon death, where you experience eternal paradise. Wyatt giggled like a school girl. Gat prepared to give a scathing retort, but choked a little on his words. He let out a hackling cough, waving Wyatt away. Rook blinked before leaving, reluctantly. Gat didnt like people seeing his sickness and it was one thing Rook would always respect. Whether it was out of pity or just discomfort, he didnt know. Rook headed away from the market, chewing on his piece of bread. He had an argument about religion with Gat pretty much every day. It had become part of the daily routine, granted hed usually have made fun of him later, in the afternoon. He rubbed his neck again, frowning. Something about Gats voice made everything he said sound somehow wise. Perhaps it was worth getting a bloodfever shot... or whatever it was that leyborn wanted to prescribe. More people were starting to move out onto the streets now. In another half hour, the market would be packed with plenty of pockets to pick. Wyatt tried to get excited, but couldnt dismiss the thought of disease looming over him like the reaper over a death bed. Gat would probably say something about embracing the value of doing something you hate... Some cryptic nonsense revolving around having an open mind. The doctors cabin was on the other side of town, about three minutes away.

Rook stopped in his tracks, turning towards his new destination. Screw it, hed go and see the creepy abomination leyborn so she could zap him with her fairy hands and make him better. It wasnt like she could hurt him, shed be guarded. All the captive leyborn were guarded... for the best really. Those guys could do some serious damage if they werent watched. Its why most of them were taken away to live in the Leylands, a heavily guarded containment island off the Southern Coast. The history books said they used to just hunt the leyborn down and kill them, like they were monsters. That was a little too extreme, even for Wyatts tastes. Riots and such erupted all over the continent and forced the ruling council to find a more humane way of dealing with the leyborn. This all happened over two hundred and fifty years ago. As Rook walked through the village, the sound of the market fading, a wide eyed man burst from a nearby house, nearly smashing the door off its hinges as he did so. He rushed past Rook, whispering nonsense. Rook would have perceived him as insane if he hadnt found himself occasionally doing something similar. Ever since he had been a child, hed heard voices, seen odd things, spoke to people that werent even there. The frightened stranger approached another man who was coming down the path with his arms full of meat and vegetables. I saw it again, Mattis! he said, insidiously looking around. Mattis, as the other man was apparently named, looked around, as if checking to see if anyone was watching. Ha! Good one, James... Such... a good... joke... Im not joking! It appeared! In the mirror this time! Staring! Those eyes... those dead eyes... Wyatt kept walking. Been there, he thought to himself. The Divines may not be real, but ghosts sure as farl were... Probably. He hadnt seen any ghosts since he was very young, so its possible he grew out of it. Seeing people talking about seeing strange things wasnt too uncommon lately, however: People screaming in the night, going on unannounced witch hunts, often in response to spontaneous deaths and mysterious accidents that seemed to be steadily on the rise. Some people were already talking about Fern as if it were cursed by some hidden terror, but, based on news received from other towns, they were having similar problems. Most of the sceptics just did what Wyatt did; blame the fenrye. Those hounds were responsible for most of the crap in the world right now; bent on the annihilation of the humans and vermus because they believed it was their goddesss wish, a goddess which many humans still worshipped, including Gat. It was mindboggling how destructive religion could be, even when the beliefs were so similar. Funnily enough, according to Gats beliefs, he was now walking towards someone who was blessed by the power of the very goddess that was trying to destroy them. Matern, the divine of life, was the creator of the bioley, the mystical essence of life itself. Bioley was one of the seven different ley types, one for each divine. Fortunately, its also considered the safest one, Wyatt thought to himself as the doctors cabin came into view around a corner. He could see shadows and silhouettes moving around behind the foggy glass windows. There were clearly a few people already inside, getting checkups or prescriptions. The front door was open to keep the temperatures comfortable and beside the frame leant, what looked like a woman (it was hard to tell since he or she was completely covered in some fairly thick ebon black leather armour.) A cowl like collar covered the bottom half of her face, and a large brimmed hat sat atop her head. She had a pair of pistols on her belt, woolorth spurs on her feet, and her cruel, sleepless gaze was just about visible between the hat and the long mask. All of these distinctive features indicated to one identity: This woman was a wrangler, an elite member of the kings army, trained to perfection in the art of capturing, killing and controlling leyborn. No doubt the Wolfbane Pact had placed her here to guard the bioborn serving inside.

Wyatt offered a friendly smile to the wrangler. He didnt know why, it just seemed gentlemanly. Predictably, she responded with a glare that stabbed like a dagger and twisted in the wound. It was most unpleasant. Wyatt looked away, quickly, trying to mask what he had just done behind complete denial. The thought Please dont kill me cycled through his mind, looping erratically like a stuck record. He made it past her, wandering into the clinic. The smell of Lumina was somehow even stronger inside this building. Dozens of intensely coloured plants sat inside pots and hanging baskets. A bright red rose turned in its urn as Wyatt walked past, like an eye that was watching him. Wyatt shivered as he spotted it move, already unsettled by the powers of the ley that clearly pulsed through this building. The rose bobbed up and down, gleefully, triggering a similar reaction from a number of the other flowers in an assortment of different vessels around the room. They all seemed to be watching Rook as he cautiously approached a seat in the waiting area. There were three others in there with him and an attendant who seemed to log Wyatts entry upon him being seated. The waiting room quite simple; wooden log walls, a few notice boards with pamphlets and documents pinned to them, informing patients of what symptoms to look out for and safely ruining a hypochondriacs day. Wyatt felt a jolt in his stomach. It was odd, usually he wasnt nervous about things like this. Hed never met a leyborn before, only read the posters and notices of warning the wranglers put up around towns and cities. There were even a few in this surgery, ironically, pinned next to the health information leaflets. Wyatt took a closer look at one of them ARE YOU LIVING WITH A LEYBORN? LEYBORN ARE DANGEROUS INDIVIDUALS WHICH USE THE POWER OF THE LEY TO HARNESS FORCES OF REALITY AND NATURE TO DESTRUCTIVE ENDS. IF YOU KNOW OF ANY LEYBORN, OR INDEED ARE ONE YOURSELF, REPORT TO YOUR NEAREST WOLFBANE SOLDIER TO OFFER YOURSELF, OR INFORMATION UP TO THE WRANGLERS. HOW TO RECOGNISE A LEYBORN 1. LEYBORN CAUSE ABNORMALITIES IN THE WORLD USING A VARIETY OF CASTS. DEPENDING ON THE TYPE OF LEY, A LEYBORN CAN CONTROL FIRE, WATER, EARTH, AIR, COLD, LIFE AND DEATH. 2. LEYBORN OFTEN DEVELOP PERSONALITY TRAITS THAT MIGHT SEEM DIFFERENT OR UNUSUAL TO THEIR INITIAL ONES. A FULL LIST OF THESE TRAITS CAN BE FOUND BELOW 3. LEYBORN ARE CREATED WHEN A CHILD IS BORN UPON A LEYLINE. IF YOU KNOW THE LOCATIONS OF ANY NON-WALLED IN LEYLINES, OR KNOW OF ANYONE WHO BIRTHED A CHILD UPON A KNOWN LEYLINE, PLEASE REPORT TO A GUARD. ALL LEYBORN MUST BE CONTAINED. THREE HUNDRED AND SEVEN YEARS AGO, THE NECROLEY WAR HALVED THE HUMAN AND VERMUS POPULATION. THIS MUST NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN. THE LEYBORN CANNOT BE ALLOWED TO ROAM FREE. THE LEYLANDS IS A SAFE AND HUMANE PLACE FOR LEYBORN TO LIVE THEIR LIVES. NECROBORN HOWEVER MUST ALWAYS FACE EXECUTION, FOR THE SAFETY OF SOVREIGNOUS AND THE SECURITY OF OUR PEOPLES FUTURE.

A dim green light leaked out from the gap below the door to the doctors room. It got Wyatts attention, causing him to tear his eyes from the poster. The glow faded a few seconds later, and a minute or so following that, a man left the room. Thank you he called back as the door shut and he left the clinic. The attendant pointed to one of the other men next Its your turn, sir. Just go on through The proceeding patient nodded and headed into the next room, closing the door behind him. This sequence repeated a few times over the course of the next ten minutes until it was Wyatts turn. The attendant pointed to him Youre next, sir. He said Just go through the door to my left here. Right... Thanks Wyatt said, his stomach doing flips. He hated himself for being so afraid, but it would be over soon and hed be better off for it. Bloodfever was probably worse than a well guarded leyborn. He reached out his hand to the door knob, before gulping and turning towards the attendant is... there anything I should know? Like... about... Youre scared of leyborn, arent you? Wyatt flashed red as he glanced to the others that had come in while hed been waiting Im not... scared. Just... cautious... You know... what with the posters on the board and... Sir, youll be fine. Just try not to fall in love with her. Wyatt raised an eyebrow ...What? The attendant smirked Youll see what I mean. Bioborn have a certain effect on the opposite gender. Aha Wyatt boldly nodded Im sure I can handle it. Heh. Whatever you say. Go on in. Weve gotta get through a lot of people. One reassuring smile and friendly gesture later, Wyatt was opening the door and walking inside. It closed behind him... He was trapped. It was like a greenhouse, or a miniature botanical garden. More flowers dotted the room and vines were creeping up from the cracks in the wooden flooring, making a striped pattern along the walls. Sat on a chair, writing notes on a pad, was a woman with curly long blonde hair. She was wearing a standard white doctors coat and dark leggings. Her face was currently obscured by the pad, but as Wyatt approached, she lowered it. Rook fought the urge to gasp. She was beautiful, like a fictitious princess. Looking at her was like looking at someone through foggy glass. Wyatts brain started playing an angelic tune to accompany her radiance. He found himself gawking at her like a fish out of water. She smiled, pleasantly, before raising her hand and clicking her fingers, repeatedly Wake up, dizzy Wyatt stumbled on the spot, shaking his head. What had just happened?... ...Hi... he said, turning as crimson as one of the roses that was slowly leaning over to watch him. Hello there. Im Maya. Take a seat the doctor said Dont worry about the little pause there. I get that a lot... Modest... Wyatt grinned, sitting down in a chair as it was pushed out by one of the vines. He already felt relaxed, soothed. Something about the womans presence was so pleasing; hed forgotten all of his previous worries. Id ask you whats bothering you... But I think I can see it she gestured to the sanguine bite with her pencil Vampire syse bite. Worried about bloodfever?

...Not really... but everyone else is. Can you give me a shot? Maya stood up and walked over, pressing her hand against the bite and examining it closely. Her touch sent an enchanting shiver down Wyatts spine. He remained silent, afraid of saying something ridiculous and making a fool out of himself. Maya straightened up I dont do shots. Wyatt blurted out a response Thats a shame! Id let you shoot me all day! he froze, looking horrified at his own words before slowly letting his head sink into his hands. Maya snorted, giving an amused smile. Im sure you would. Stay still now while I extract the disease. She raised her palm towards Wyatt, which began to project an emerald beam. The gentle light passed over Wyatt. He felt nothing. He had expected it to hurt or tickle or tingle, but it was just like being surrounded by smoke. The light faded and Maya lowered her hand Thats it. All done. I fixed the bite too. Shouldnt bother you anymore Wyatt blinked, moving a hand over where the swelling had been. The skin was smooth. It had vanished. Wow... Thanks. Wyatt stood up ...Shot in the dark. Wanna get a drink some time? Maya went back to her pad on a nearby table Im afraid the large-hatted woman outside disallows me a social life. She looked over her shoulder at Wyatt, her blue eyes glinting in the light You know, because Im pure evil Yeah... I saw the posters... It must suck... being a leyborn... Not something Id want Maya shrugged as she approached a cupboard and opened it up Being a leyborn is fine. Being discovered as one isnt. She pulled out a tiny little cage with some sort of latch mechanism. Are you staying here permanently?... Wyatt asked, tentatively. She approached, shrugging yet again I dont know. Im not in control of my own life. Maya held her smile, but she was clearly struggling to do so. Run away with me! shouted Wyatt, involuntarily. She laughed. Thank the gods. She thought it was a joke. Wyatt forced a laugh as well, his eyes looking at everything except the doctor. Maya handed the small cage over to Rook. He took it, eyeing it with confusion. Your medicine looks strange He grinned while Maya giggled Its a syse trap. Put it in your house and youll never have to visit me again. I see... Maybe Ill leave it here then. Maya put her hands on her hips, feigning sternness Put it in your house. Doctors orders Alright groaned Wyatt. Thanks, Doc... Have a good day You too, Wyatt. Wyatt was outside in the sunlight, merrily walking through the streets before he froze in a mixture of horror and realisation: Hed never told her his name...

Chapter Two Eyes of Grey

Two Nights Ago You are in a world of war, Wyatt. Not just the physical war you know as the Beast War, where people you barely know defend towns from fenrye. No, this war is internal, and affects everyone who walks Rimes surface, and everything that dwells above or below it. Rime wars with itself: Its turmoil felt by those with the gift. Every time chaos erupts, the death toll can be huge. The Faith War and the Necroley war reduced Rimes sapient species to near extinction. Weve clung on, only to be thrown into yet another battle for our lives. The humans and the fenrye take countless casualties and the energy they release upon death has to go somewhere. Have you ever thought about what happens when you die? Do you go to Benedis? Do you reincarnate? If so, does it happen right away, or does your spirit linger? If the spirit lingers, then WHERE does it do this? The question revolving around existence beyond mortality is one that has circulated throughout cultures and civilisations since long before our time. The final stages of afterlife remain a global mystery, for fairly understandable reasons. Rime has so much history and lore that has been lost to the ages, purely due to the inhabitants destructive nature. Knowledge is like a living organism and it needs a host to truly manifest and survive. Ancient written texts create myths and legends, not facts, and the fact is that most of the witnesses of Rimes most integral moments in history faced premature deaths. And the dead tell no tales. You need to open your mind to the possibility that many of these myths have the potential to be real, Wyatt. I cannot tell you anything youll believe, but I can direct you into believing what scraps of information can reach you. Scepticism is and will always be a perfectly understandable state of mind, but its better you open your mind now and become more receptive before we arrive. They have wagers, you know. They think youll respond with hostility. Part of me agrees. I know you well enough to predict your behaviour. Take that how you wish, I could be a stalker or a friend, or just another voice in your head which you dread to hear with fear that society will find you different. You were raised upon the concept that being anything other than perfectly normal was an unthinkable sin, an omen of terrible things to come. Your mother is a slave to society, and, while thats all well and good, its not something youll be able to embrace forever. You know youre not normal, and pretending to be something youre not is unhealthy. Im not saying you need to be a special snowflake. Im not saying you need to be unique, but you will be accessing something beyond comprehension of mere socialites and commoners. There is a divine presence on this world, Wyatt. You may sneer and laugh, but some things can only be denied for so long. If you do not believe in the power of an entity not witnessed for generations, then can you believe in the power within your fellow man? Do you think love, hate, desire, purpose, is something that can instantly fade away with a loose arrow or a stray bullet? Which brings me back to my original question... What happens when you die? To a degree, child... You will see...

Present Day Wyatt stumbled to a standstill as he headed down the forest road, holding his skull as the familiar words cascaded through his mind. The words of the dream seemed louder than a real voice. Hed not remembered a single syllable of it upon waking up two nights ago, but now it came flooding back to him like a repressed memory. He stood there, hands on knees, panting, waiting for it to pass. Each letter pierced his mind, like a high pitched whine. As the final, foreshadowing statement faded to silence, Wyatt straightened up. He would have been more concerned, but he knew he was going mad. He had known it for years. This was just another anomaly, one of many to come, probably. The only way this dream voice could know so much about him was that it was simply a concoction of his subconscious. A psychologist would probably tell him this fit was the result of him being unhappy with his current existence... A fair assumption, considering his abysmal living conditions and Grieves making murderous threats on every opportunity he got. Wyatt couldnt help but notice something which made him chuckle a little out loud though. The sequential theme of this dream and the one hed had before. He didnt remember a thing about this one that had occurred two nights ago, and yet, it seemed like it followed on from the first one. He dismissed the idea for now, collecting his nerves and once again continuing down the dusty trail. The fluorescent Lumina plant life was dazzling to behold, more and more so as one moved deeper into the forest. The midday sun was just about breaching the canopy above, leaving a dappled pattern upon all it loomed over. The weather was warm and pleasant, with a gentle breeze which carried a varied hue of colours in the form of spore-like seed dispersing fruit. The chirping of birds and occasional faint call of the deer resembling jurnice dominated the wilderness. Civilisation had barely touched seventy percent of the forest, excluding the roads, one of which Wyatt was currently walking down. A pair of daggers was strapped to his belt and his scarf had been pulled up around his mouth. The top half of his head was shrouded by a hood. Only his eyes were visible to onlookers. It was good enough for the perfect crime. As Rook approached the Quirky Yerk, a tree which had growths and holes on its bark which gave it a cheeky grinning expression, he let out a quiet whistle, not too dissimilar from a bird call. The yerk tree had been dead for some time, and parts of its dry husk looked a little fragile, but several of its thick branches stretched out over the road to which it sat at the side of. Aris was right, this would be a perfect ambush point, assuming the plan was to drop down from these protrusions. Ariss flame red hair emerged over the edge of one of the branches and she glanced down to Wyatt Climb up. We dont have long she said, urgently. Rook grabbed his daggers and span them stylishly in his hands. He took a run up and leapt, digging the blades into the fragile wood and using them to hastily scale its surface. He flipped himself on top of the flat head of the tree and crouched low beside Aris Nice she said. Vince teach you how to do that? Unwillingly. You just have to watch the way he moves. I doubt thatll work for me. I cant get past the whole fur, tail, and completely different anatomy thing Didnt you and him have a thing?

What?! With that weasel? NO! Aris hushed herself quickly, taking a few deep breaths Id sooner tear his cute little face off True love if I ever heard it... Wyatt added, with a chuckle. He reached into his satchel on his side and pulled out a telescopic eyeglass. With a satisfying click and a flick of the wrist, the scope unfolded and Rook brought it to his eye. Aris peered closely at Wyatts neck as he scouted What happened to your love bite? I went to that new leyborn healer Wyatt focused the lens, inwardly preparing for the inevitable speech telling him how much of a hypocrite he was Urgh... Youre such a hypocrite, Rook. You tell us they are nothing but bad news but then you rush to get help from one as soon as your ass is on the line Shes called Maya. Shes pretty great. Rook smirked. He would fight back by making her jealous. Aris contained her growls So now you love them? You meet one leyborn and now theyre your best friends... Asshole. I dont LOVE them. Im just saying... She was cool. Oh but she did this creepy thing as I left where she said my name despite the fact I never told her it... Shes a bioborn, right? Wyatt nodded She probably read your mind or something. I heard they can do that. Wyatt paused as he considered this possibility. It was a little disturbing. He wondered if maybe bioborn could cure mental ailments. Perhaps he could go to Maya again and tell her about the voices and the dreams. He shook his head and pulled the original subject back on track What do you wanna do about the guards? Theyll pursue us if we dont knockem out... murmured Aris, watching the road with a hawks gaze. They wear helmets, sometimes full plate helmets. How do you expect to knock them out? Nag them until they fall asleep? I could beat them down with your cold dead corpse? Please. My corpse wont be cold by the time they arrive Then what do you suggest, Captain Jackass?! Wyatts eyes glinted, cunningly We use deception and trickery. Whats the formation like? Standard. Two guards in front, two guards behind. Mounted on woolorths* Wyatts brow furrowed slightly before he gave a response, still peering through the telescope. A number of forms appeared on the road, easily identifiable, even at this range. Oh yeah... Rook said. Aris turned her head You see them? I do... Weve not got long. Can you still do that fenrye call? Aris frowned Its a party trick. A joke. Its convincing enough, especially from a distance. You know what these Wolfbane Pact soldiers are like. Theyd abandon everything to rack up a few gnoll kills. I dunno, Wyatt... If I was busy doing a distraction then youd have to grab the payload all on your lonesome.

* Woolorths are long faced, hoofed plain runners that are regularly used as means of hasty transit by humans. A woolorth can gallop at thirty miles an hour on a flat surface and they can continue to do so for quite a long time. A woolorth stands at a little less than two metres (around eighteen hands). Their name comes from their thick layer of wool which keeps them warm in Glacenox.

I can do it. Trust me. Rough yourself up a little and play victim for them to find. Give them a reason to prolong the search. You know I aint greedy. Fifty-Fifty, no matter what happens. He grabbed Aris hand and the two of them exchanged a cocktail of glances If they dont buy it, its no problem. Well just run ahead of them and try something else. They are going at a slow pace. Dont worry. Worst case scenario, we spend a few years in a cell together! Aris looked horrified. Wyatt corrected himself quickly Worst case scenario, we die, horribly! Aris sighed with relief. Ok... Well do this your way she stood up Lets stay separated until tonight if this works. Well meet at the tavern, since youre gonna be there anyway, sucking up to Grieves. Wyatt waved the woman away, sniggering Go on. Stay low, and be convincing. Display those bask** tears youre so famous for Aris did one of her little signature kiss blows before diving from the tree top and disappearing into the trees like a shadow. Wyatt watched her slender figure vanish without a trace. He whistled lowly to himself, turning his attention back towards the animal pulled carriage that was trundling along, blissfully unaware. Four guards on woolorths surrounded the cart, each of them with a sword in a scabbard and standard issue chainmail armour. Worryingly, one of them had a percussion cap pistol strapped to his waist, something that only highly experienced and skilled Pact soldiers were given. Resources were scarce in the army, so only the most talented soldiers were kitted out with the higher quality weapons and armour, to ensure they didnt go to waste or fall into enemy hands. The guards were chatting to each other, drearily. Their journey had likely been a long and uneventful one. This was about to change. As the cart approached the Quirky Yerk, a feral howl sounded in the distance. The leading guard escorts raised their hands, signalling for the group to stop. The others obeyed, searching through the trees from their mounted position on the road. They spoke, their words carrying authority and discipline Was there a bloodmoon attack near here recently? Two moons ago, Sir. Fordale was attacked. It was a failure but there could be stragglers... Another howl echoed through the forest. The stationary woolorths whinnied quietly, clopping on the spot, unsettled by the sound. ...Its just dogs... Lets keep moving Its not dogs, moron. Thats a fenrye call. What do you think, sir? the three guards all turned to look at their ranking officer, the one with the pistol. The helmeted leader hesitated before steering his woolorth to the left Lets check it out. Driver, stay here. If were not back in five minutes, go on without us. The carriage driver; a plump, middle aged man, gave a disinterested nod, chewing on a piece of straw. The guards yelled YA! simultaneously, leading their steeds off into the forest, drawing their weapons as they travelled out of sight. Wyatt surveyed the caravan quickly. There was only so much he could carry back home. He would just have to rummage around and see what was worth the most. The driver pulled his hat over his eyes, as if ready to take a midday nap. Come on, now, Wyatt thought to himself. Everyone likes a challenge **Basks are a large reptilian creature that live in the Scarred Lands, the neighbour continent to Sovreignous. The phrase bask tears comes from the tears they shed to clean their eyes, as opposed to crying as an emotional response.

The driver jolted and pulled his cap up as something thunked onto the wood behind him, shaking the entire carriage. As he rotated his fat body to get a better look at the disturbance, his vision was met with a large boot colliding with his face. The man hit the ground like a sack of rocks, groaning dazedly. The thief dropped down in front of him, his face masked, evil intent in his eyes. The driver raised his arms in a feeble attempt to defend himself Please! I...I have a family! The thiefs muffled voice was icy and dark Then go to them... He pulled out a blindfold and tossed it against the drivers chest Cover your eyes. The driver followed the order, with difficulty due to his hands trembling with fear Good... now get up, and walk. Do not stop, or I will kill you. Do not remove the blindfold, or I will kill you. Do not turn back or I will kill you. You may proceed with your normal life once you have counted to a thousand. Go, now... or I will kill you The driver nodded, frantically, his tears dampening the cloth that was blinding him. He waddled off into the forest, blubbering to himself. Hed be fine. The forest was perfectly safe during Lumina. Wyatt sprinted to the back of the carriage and climbed up, peering in through the hide flaps that covered it. A dozen or so crates came into view, with perhaps more beneath them. Jackpot... probably. One assumes that a carriage full of crates isnt just carrying empty crates. The guards could return at any moment, searching the crates for items of value would take too long. He could pick a crate at random and leg it or... Wyatt grinned, sliding from the back of the carriage and moving to the drivers seat. The guards would simply assume the carriage had gone on ahead, as they had directed. It would take them hours to realise it had gone missing and the two of them could be safely out of the limelight by then. It was wonderful when things just conveniently came together like this. Taking his place in the comfy, but slightly foul smelling drivers seat and gripping the reins, Wyatt couldnt help but notice how easy this had been. If this was a story book, it would be a trap. Granted, luck had been on his side but... still. He would keep his eyes open; perhaps fiction had made his poor mind paranoid. He clicked his tongue, coaxing the woolorths into turning with a few shakes of the reins. After a little injected and awkward effort, the pulled cart was facing the other way. Wyatt steered the wheels carefully over the faint tracks in the dust they had already created. Better they think it had disappeared completely than veered off in another direction for unexplained reasons. Aris was probably fine. She had a way with men, in that they all wanted to sleep with her. He wasnt worried about her, and he knew what shed want him to do. He would hide the carriage on the outskirts of the village and use the remainder of the day to vendor off some of the goods hed acquired. He could even set up his own market stall... granted a lot of his endearing fans would probably be dying to know where hed acquired his goods. What was important was that Grieves would get his money and wouldnt do anything unruly to Wyatts limbs. Wyatt liked his limbs. They were so great. Having them being torn off would be totally inconvenient. The town of Fern appeared around the corner. No doubt some people would notice the cart leaving and then spontaneously returning for unexplained reasons. Rook would have to casually take it off road and conceal it... behind some leaves or something. He yanked the reins to the side as soon as he saw an opportunity; an opening in the trees to the left. The wheels groaned and the cart bounced up and down as it departed from the flat road. Glowing, inconsistently shaped, transparent forms glided past Wyatts head while the cart trundled through the lumpy forest. He watched them with a smile. Kyne only came out for a few days every year. They were some kind of curious combination of fungi and insects but they sure

knew how to put on a good light show. They never drifted too far from their spawning point. They would be a useful temporary landmark in case the cart needed to be located late at night. Yanking the reins back, Wyatt brought the woolorths to a standstill. The two beasts watched the kyne drift around their long heads, as if transfixed by them. The kyne chimed and hummed like singing crystals. A gentle gust of wind caused them to twirl elegantly in the air. Rook observed them further as he climbed down from the cart. Children loved kyne. They often went out during Lumina and brought them back in little glass jars. Of course they vanished a few days later, into a barely visible cloud of glittering dust. Kyne; one of Rimes most beautiful mysteries. He tore his gaze from the luminescent entities and moved to the back of the carriage before climbing inside. As he examined the contents of the crates, he wondered what he would do with the woolorths. He had no experience handling them, but knew they could fetch a decent price, especially if they were already broken. Hed probably leave them here for now. They could eat the grass and watch the kyne and he could have someone come up to collect them once theyd paid him. Simple! A crowbar was mounted against one of the inside walls for easy access to the crates. Wyatt snatched it up and pried off a few of the lids with a number of creaking cracks. The smell of dried meat hit him quite quickly once hed pulled his scarf away from his face. Good. People paid a fair bit for preserved food in preparation for Glacenox. This would do for now. Wyatt was not a strong man, and getting this crate out of the cart was not really a strong moment for him. Still, he persevered and eventually found himself once again walking back towards Fern, the heavy box wobbling in his hands. He stopped for a few breaks along the way, cursing his feeble muscles. There were people who did this every day! Were they insane? What kind of idiot would willingly perform manual labour on a daily basis just to get paid a small cut? No wonder Sovreignous had so many criminals. The sounds of the market reached his ears once again. The day was in full swing now, with entire crowds at each stall. The vendors were shouting to be heard over the hundreds of voices. A couple of them had sold out already, and were currently unattended. Wyatt grinned as he headed over to one of the abandoned stands. It was a few places over from Gats, and he was busy being swarmed by those hungry for pumpkins, so he probably wouldnt notice the abnormality of this. As Wyatt unpacked the crate and laid the meat over the stall, he did a quick check of his competitors. Two others were selling produce similar to him. This would be easy enough. His goods quickly caught the attention of what seemed to be a married couple. They wandered over and checked the quality while Wyatt hung a few extra pieces of meat on some helpful hooks that were clipped onto one of the stalls poles. They seemed impressed, which wasnt much of a surprise to Rook. This meat was meant to go to Sanctus, and everything there was so much better, although more expensive. This looks pricey the husband said to his other half. Maybe we should try one of the others Hang on for a moment. Lets check The wife looked at Wyatt How much for this piece here? she pointed. Wyatt drummed his fingers on the wood How much are those other guys selling theirs for? Oh... Well... Its of a lower quality... so usually about... fifteen sancs for a side like this... Well then good news! Wyatt said, cheerily For that piece only costs twelve sancs! Ah economy, how easy you are to break.

Seriously? Thats... Wow. Well take it... Well take two! She nudged the man who took out a pouch of coins and handed it over to Rook. He shivered excitedly. It had been so long since hed held some actual real live money! Enjoy He said, as they trotted off with two large pieces of meat. He couldnt help but notice the way they stopped a few times to point out his stall to their friends. With prices as low and unrealistic as his, he was sure to get a lot of attention. Sure enough, before too long, Wyatts stall was playing host to dozens of customers. The other two meat sellers looked furious. Their customers had almost completely vanished. Wyatts head was buzzing with all the questions that were being thrown at him. He tried to answer them, although it was quite difficult at times. What kind of meat is this, anyway!? Thats a great question. I have no idea It looks like jurnice meat Then its jurnice meat. Venison. Good stuff. Im gonna have to push up the price to thirteen sancs. The stocks being depleted quickly! How are you making a profit off this? I have my ways. Thatll be thirteen sancs, please You stole this, didnt you, Rook? What an outrageous accusation. Have some meat! Dried meat! Guaranteed to keep you fed and healthy through the ravages of Glacenox! Buy one for your lover! Buy one for your pets! Farl, why not buy one to distract the fenrye! Even THEY love this meat! Thats right, folks, this meat could quite literally save your life! Only thirteen sancs! More people pooled around Wyatts stand, hurling coin pouches at him which he hastily tucked away into his armour. The meat sold at what must have been record speeds. While so many people questioned Wyatts methods of acquisition, they couldnt turn down a deal that would make their lives much more bearable. No one was bothering to call the authorities over something that they were ultimately benefitting from. It was relieving that everyone was being so cooperative, especially with that wrangler on the edge of town. He really didnt want to tangle with someone with a reputation scary enough to make even Aris shudder. After the initial storm of customers, things did start to slow down a little. Over the course of an hour or so, the crate was totally empty, and Wyatt had to send the expecting customers away Sorry, Im all out for now. Ill restock soon his announcement was met with a few upset groans. The small group before his stand split off in different directions to check the other, still healthily stocked stalls. Wyatt was busy closing up the empty crate when two shadows were cast over him. He looked up to see the red faces of the two muscular butchers that hed brutally undercut Hey there. Wyatt said with a grin. What were they gonna do? Tell his mother? Youve got a lot of nerve. One of them boomed This market needs to be kept in balance so everyone gets their fair share. How are you selling this for so cheap? You cant be making a profit. Wyatt shrugged, straightening up with the empty crate in his hands Unless I caught this all myself. Bullcrap. No one can catch as much as you sold by themselves, let alone have the resources to preserve it ALL Wyatt sighed and shook his head Gentleman, Ive been building this stock up for a long time. Youve never seen me here before and after a few days, theres a good chance youll never see me here again. This is simply a burst effort. Ive been saving all of my expertly prepared produce for a few days in which I can safely make

a pile of money from what would otherwise simply be a hobby. Yes, undercut you, and yes, I understand your concern, but there are no laws against it and it is only a short term set up. This is the first time Ive made money in years, so please hold your heads high and take this minor inconvenience with some dignity so I can hold at least a scrap of respect for you The butchers fell silent, clenching their chunky fists. Wyatt stood his ground. Vince had taught him how to do this... A few more seconds and... Fine... the other man said. A voice inside Wyatts head cheered. Using the right words and attitude, it was so easy to manipulate the minds of the ignorant. The silver tongue of the vermus was at his disposal. ...A burst effort... the butcher continued I just dont understand why youd sell your own good meat for such a low price... To attract the hordes attention, friend. You spark the interest of one, and he or she spreads the spark to another, until in just minutes, you have the village at your fingertips He bowed his head Forgive me. Im not an expert in the field of marketing. I merely wish to do things my way in the few days Im able to do so. Fine... Just do us a favour if you sell anything else this good at a low price. Come to us first. Well give you a higher price than the rest of the customers for the entire batch and well sell it on for a profit Wyatt didnt even hesitate with his response That sounds like a marvellous idea. I shall go and collect some more now and you can see if youre up to buying it. Right the other butcher said. The two of them went back to their stalls for now while Wyatt began to hastily retreat back towards the forest where his cart was still waiting. He froze in his tracks as an unwelcome voice shrilled over the markets assortment of noises Wyatt! Wyatt! Boy dont ya walk away from me! Wyatt sighed. Great, he thought, thats the rest of his afternoon gone. A distorted, forced and unconvincing smile stretched across his face and he turned around to see a woman in her late fifties marching towards him through the crowds. ...Hey... Ma... Im a little swamped right now so... Whats all this I hear ya bein with a bitin girl!? Wyatt grinded his teeth together, glaring over at Gat who stopped everything for a moment to give him a cheerful, mocking wave. Well, its utter crap. It was a syse bite. His mother gasped. And thats sposed to make me feel better?! Didcha get your shots?! No... Ma... I went to the new leyborn healer... Ya did WHAT!? Ah, thats right. THATS where Wyatt got his fear from leyborn from: his paranoid, prejudging country yokel mother. Wyatt raised his hands to calm her down, the same way you would to stop a horse from playing up Ma. Cool off. Shes a nice girl. Shes called Maya. She fixed me up I always knew ya werent right in the head, Wyatt, but this is too much! I always blamed ya father f- Can I just stop you there? Wyatt interrupted. Tesss flailing arms fell to her side. Yes? Wyatt slowly turned away, crate still in arms I dont have anything to say. I just wanted you to stop talking. Tess marched up to Wyatt, rushing past him and standing before him, blocking his way That attitude aint been nothin but trouble. Im ya mother! Yall cant speak to me like that! Im twenty four years old. You treat me like Im eleven... For Farls sake I dont even live with you anymore!

Watch ya language! Wyatt threw the crate on the floor where it shattered. A few people turned their heads, watching the scene unfold This is exactly what Im talking about! What do you want? Why have you been hounding after me for days? Tess fell silent. Do you miss me? If its that simple then stop pretendin Im your little kid and Ill actually be able to maintain a conversation with ya without wantin to stick my own fist down my throat and choke myself to death! Wyatts country accent had a tendency to crop up when he was agitated or angry. Still Tess remained silent. People started murmuring to one another. It must not have looked like Wyatt was the protagonist here. He probably looked like a total asshole from an outside perspective. Tess finally spoke. Her voice was weak and a little shaky, reminiscent of someone that was about to burst into tears. I just... wanted to... Give ya this... She slowly took out a wrapped up bundle from her dresss pocket I... recently got your fathers stuff out the attic... and... He wanted you to have... this... Wyatt went pale. The people around him were right. He was an asshole. Rook reached over and took the gift. He slowly unwrapped it, letting something small and metallic fall into his hand. It was an elegant key, as pale as the snows of Summit, with what appeared to be glacial crystals embedded in the ring at its top. The white metal was curious and cold to touch. Wyatt flicked it with his finger nail to check something. His suspicions were confirmed as the key let out a harmonic chime. This key was made out of ivoryon. It must have been worth a fortune... ...Ma... This is... Whats it for?... Tess was still sniffing Like I said... it was ya pas... He never told me where he got it. He said I should give it to ya durin Lumina of this year. S why Ive been tryin to find ya for the past few days... I know Ive never spoke much about ya dad, but... this was real important to him. Was basically the last thing he ever said to me before he went off to the war. We didnt even know if ya were a boy or a girl yet, but he said that when ya were born, this was to be given to ya during the first month of Lumina, in the year 777 LW. Thats now so... Its yours... I dunno what he was expectin... Does it mean anything to ya? Wyatt stared at the key for a long time. Flashes and images filled his mind but none of it was comprehensible ...No... Its... Like a dream... he looked up and met his mothers gaze, the key glinting in the sunlight in his hand. ...Im... Im sorry... Ive had a... rough few... well... decades. Its fine, hun... Ill get out of your hair... A fair few people were still giving Wyatt looks of disapproval as Tess slowly started to leave. Wyatt checked the money hed made today. It would be enough to pay of Grieves with perhaps even a little to spare. Wyatt ran to her side quickly, matching her speed once hed arrived Ive got a better idea. We havent caught up for a while Tess sighed and forced a small laugh Heh... Ya dont have to pity me. Ya right. Ill stop botherin ya so much. Ya are a grown man now. Might as well treat ya as one. Im just gonna follow you home anyway Ha. Fine... Just dont blame me when ya get sick of me again. Back at Wyatts old family house, Tess had put an old copper kettle over the smouldering stones of a cooking fire. The house was fairly secluded, slightly less so than it used to be when Wyatt was a child as Fern had expanded since, but it was still some distance from edges of town.

Wyatt was sat in one of the comfortable armchairs, inspecting the key in his hand further. Hed been here for a few hours now. The place was homely and fairly well furnished. Tess work in Sanctus and Wyatts fathers soldier pay had allowed her to live in conditions that would coax the envy of many, including Wyatt himself. Although Tess didnt work in Sanctus anymore, she gained income from tenants paying rent for a few shop on one of the streets. An assortment of unpacked boxes surrounded the living space, some of them open, some of them sealed. Wyatt glanced at them, before turning his head to look at his mother, who was still busy in the kitchen What made you take dads stuff out from its hiding place? Tess called back, from the other room Well! I knew ya pa wanted ya to have that key, and while I was retrievin it, I figured... ya know... Its been long enough. I should bring some of it down again. Wyatt nodded, more to himself than her. He spotted a picture frame that was facing away from him. It was stood on the dining table, about five metres away. He got up and walked towards it while Tess appeared in the doorway, smiling Found the picture? Wyatt reached out a hand to pick it up Is it of him? Ive never seen him. Yeah thats him. Its a small paintin we had done together. Wyatt scooped the frame up, delicately, and flipped it around to face him. Instantly he felt his vision blurring, voices filling his head, all in reaction to the memories stirred by the man standing beside his mother in the image. He was far too familiar indeed, despite the fact he was dead before Wyatt was even born. He put the picture down, backing away from it, fearfully. Tess blinked, confused What?... she said, rushing over. ...Ma... Wyatt hesitated. It sounded crazy but she of all people might understand Ma... Thats... The man I always saw... When I was a kid... The one in my room... The one who- For cryin out loud, not this again! Theres NO SUCH THING AS GHOSTS! But- No! Wyatt! Ya cant just... soil ya dads memory to me by tellin him he tormented ya for twelve years. Hed never do that to ya. He loved... well... he loved the idea of ya... I spose he never met ya properly but... Its absurd anyhow! There werent no ghosts! It were ya imagination, I tell ya! Wyatt couldnt take his eyes off the painting. He felt icy claws scraping at his skin, his heart rate increased, goose bumps rose all over his arms. Oh for Gods sakes she snatched the picture up and carried it out of the room, muttering angrily to herself. Wyatt began to calm down. He took a few deep breaths. He hadnt felt like this for over a decade... Not since hed seen the ghost wave good bye in his early teens. It had never bothered him again following that event. It had never spoken to him, it had never touched him or even come near him, but it was always there. He could feel it, watching him... at least he could until it faded. This brought back bad memories. Tess came back in, holding two mugs of tea. She put one of them down on the arm of the chair Wyatt had slumped back into, before sitting down on another, sipping her drink. She looked irritated. Wyatt wanted to defuse this ...So... What was dad like?... Tesss expression transformed quickly. Her mood improved as she thought about her husband ...He was... Nice... Wyatt laughed, lifting up his teacup

Really? Thats the best you can do? Tess smiled before taking another sip. Her eyes conveyed thought. She hesitated before attempting to express her feelings again Its odd... I know this sounds bad, but... We were together for eighteen years before he was ready to have a kid... and in those eighteen years, there were times where sometimes, I barely recognised him. He was... mysterious. I occasionally caught him doin odd things...; writin letters to nameless folk, patrolling streets at night... Askin folk questions when alls they looked like was a whole bago crazy... Maybe he was trying to protect them? Wyatt queried, bringing the mug to his lips. Tess shrugged Maybe. Fact is he never told me. I didnt mind so much. Its what made us work... He didnt try to hide it from me, he just didnt let me know the details... she smiled and leant back He did this thing, when I pressed too much, or saw him doin somethin odd. Hed put his finger on his lips and shhh me... Wyatt choked, spitting up some of the tea as he blurted out THATS WHAT THE GHOST DID!! Tess blinked. She stared at her son, and for a split second, he finally thought she believed him. The thing is with a split second however; it passes quickly. Hush now... she said No more of this nonsense. The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, before Wyatt had calmed down enough to continue the conversation You told me he was a soldier? Thats right. He fought in the Beast War... like nearly everyone else I spose... But he volunteered... Wyatt shook his head Why?... Tess sniffed, shrugging a second time He never showed any interest in the Wolfbane Pact until I was pregnant with ya. Part of me thought maybe he just wanted to get away. He always was very against the idea of havin a baby... He always said it wasnt time... like... he had somethin planned. ..Weird... Im... sure it wasnt that... I certainly hope not... Tess looked around at the other boxes He was posted in Tideguard, to the west. That nasty fenrye leyborn killed him... ya know, the ice one... Chillsire, yeah... He werent even a good fighter... Was in the Pact for two months before that... dog killed him... So... he kinda wasnt a soldier then?... Tess smirked Was that a pun? Wyatt shook his head briskly No no! Im not making fun. Im saying he wasnt really a soldier... I mean what did he do before the Pact? Oh... Well... he worked with houses and land. Bought and soldem, picked places forem to be built. He was even responsible for this little place here. How come he put your house so far from the rest of the village? We liked our privacy. It was one of the things that really clicked with us, ya know? she downed some more of her drink, brushing her greying hair from her eyes. Hes got a few other things in those boxes... wouldnt surprise me if some of it was as weird as that there key... Go have a look if ya want. Some of it will probably make me well up like a toddler... Wyatt grinned, quickly (and painfully) drinking down the rest of his tea and placing the mug back on the chairs arm. He got up and went to the nearest box. The initials Z.R were chalked onto the side. Z. R? Wyatt asked as he opened the boxs lid Zachery Rook. Wyatt chuckled

Wow... Zachery... I didnt even know the first name of my own father... Ya look a lot like him, ya know... Got those grey eyes he had. A little dark, mysterious. Works well with the whole crazy thing ya got goin on Wow, thanks grumbled Rook as he rummaged inside the box. His fingers closed around something soft. Pulling them out, he realised he was gripping onto a long Glacenox coat. It was thick and fluffy with a few layers of white fur. Wyatt gasped in awe. It wasnt overly manly but in Glacenox, fashion wasnt exactly an issue. This is saberl fur? Sleeper fur. He killed it himself Wyatt shouted in surprise WHAT?! Tess laughed again, putting down her tea and strolling over to the box You said he wasnt a fighter! Wyatt continued, his words garnished with disbelief. Tess knelt down and pulled the box over There werent exactly much of a fight. I think the weapon he used is still...- aha, see? Here it is. Wyatts eyes widened further as Tess pulled out a decorative ivoryon flintlock pistol. Similarly to the key, it had crystals on its metallic casing. It was beautiful. A curious symbol was engraved into the long barrel. It chimed in Tesss hand as she handed it to Wyatt, carefully. The sleeper tried to break through that very door she pointed to the front door He killed it dead. A single shot to the head. He left it here when he went to join the army... This is incredible... Wyatt said, eyeing it closely Ma... this thing is worth more than... everything in this room! I aint gonna sell it, am I? Wyatt opened his mouth to talk Ah ah ah! And neither are you! Got that? Wyatt chuckled and shook his head I wasnt gonna suggest that... as tempting as it is. No, I was gonna ask if... Well... I could hold onto it... Tess narrowed her eyes ...Why does my boy want a gun?... Guns kill folk... Ya aint gotcha self caught up in nothin fearsome, have ya? Rime is fearsome. Plus it would go well with the key... Come on, ma! You always said you wanted me to be safe! How much safer could I be than when in possession of... he checked the guns chamber This? I dunno... Come on! Its not even loaded! Its not like Ill be able to use it even if I wanted to... do they even make these anymore? Its all percussion cap now... these things dont work in the rain... Tess sighed and reluctantly granted permission Fine... I spose ya pa would have wanted ya to hold onto it too. If it stays here, Ill just pack it away again... she pulled out a belt with a holster on it and placed it beside Wyatt That goes with it. Make sure ya dont lose that, Wyatt Rook Rook nodded, sincerely. She only used his full name when she was being deadly serious. Ill guard it with my life his attention fell back to the box of wonders What else is in there? He delved back into the box, or rather his arms did, blindly. He pulled out a few more things; hoods, scarves, a sturdy leather satchel and a well insulated thermo-flask. He was definitely a Glacenox man. Tess said as she looked at the gear He was always at his prime when the cold came... Wyatt chuckled And you say Im crazy... he cursed loudly and suddenly, making Tess jump in surprise. Wyatt yanked his hand from the box. It was bleeding What the f... He stood up and looked inside it. A

pair of metallic daggers lay at the bottom of the now almost empty box. Wyatts blood stained the tip of one of them. Tess tutted and grabbed Wyatts cut hand Clumsy dummy... Lemme find a bandage for that... she got up and headed out of the room, leaving Wyatt to pick up the two daggers with his spare hand and fan them like cards before his eyes. More ivoryon... this metal was appearing so consistently, which was absolutely staggering. Ivoryon was one of the rarest, most expensive metals on the planet. It was found in frozen deposits at the pinnacle of the tallest mountains. Legends said it was made from the shed scales of Glace himself. The metal was almost as mythical as he was. The daggers felt perfect in his hand, like they were made from some sort of flowing solid. They hummed as he slowly moved them through the air, their blades vibrating ever so slightly. Who was his father? How did he come to possess such things? A single piece of parchment was all that remained in the box. It was folded up, untouched for over twenty years, like everything else here. A few drops of his blood had blotched upon the thick page. Wyatt placed the daggers down, their mystical reverberation coming to a stop. He scooped the page up in his good hand, unfolding it with a few flicks of the wrist. Grey text came into view and Wyatt felt a lurch of excitement as he spotted his own name at the top of the note. Could this somehow be the first words hed ever receive from his father? It was impossible. Ma had said that he didnt even know if he was a boy or a girl yet before he left. Wyatt read the letter, slowly, taking in every sentence with bated breath. Wyatt To question your purpose in life is something everybody does at some stage. To accept a purpose that is bestowed upon you is a far greater challenge. Truth dawns at the most unexpected of times, throwing you into a web of your own denial, self preservation and pity, but it is not your fate to decline your own. You will be prepared, my son. I have given you the tools you need to become a legend. I have taken every available action I can to secure your future, and I will be a part of it. I can only apologise for the danger I am putting you in, but I know you will be strong. I know you will be vigilant. I know you will bring a chill down the spine of your enemies, and you will be a light in the darkness for those who know nothing other than such. Please dont let the pain overwhelm you. Life is meant to be difficult, but death is not. Know your duty, Wyatt. There are bandages in the satchel for your hand. I love you, son. Your father. P.S. Look under the box.

Wyatt quivered. He felt like crying with a mixture of emotional turmoil and sheer confusion. He pushed the box over with his shaking hand, and a single charred word toppled before his eyes, burnt onto the boxs bottom Shhhhhhh. Wyatt felt his limbs hairs standing on end again as he shivered. He pulled the box back onto its base, turning to the satchel and opening it up. Some bandages were inside. With difficulty, he wrapped one of them around his wound, pocketing the note, just as his mother returned. Well I gotcha some... she stopped, blinking at the already dressed cut Oh, yall way ahead of me, I see Wyatt didnt react quickly. .......Heh.... Yeah... Tess frowned Whats wrong, hun? Again, Rook fell silent. ...Wyatt? ...Nothing... he began to pack the things back in their box Nothing... Im normal... he scooped the box into his arms I... need to take these with me... Tess blinked ...All of it? Its what Pa wants... Im sure of it... Tess stared into those haunted grey eyes. She saw something familiar, something unsettling. In the years shed spent with Zachery, shed learnt that you couldnt argue in situations like this ...I believe ya, hun... Its fine. Yall take those with ya then. Just be careful, ok? Ill look after them, I swear No no, be careful with yaself! Dont... she sighed, struggling to complete her sentence Dont... throw ya life away... Ill be good. Wyatt said, attempting a reassuring smile Love ya, ma. Well speak soon. Love ya too. That we will. Good night Wyatt left without another word. The sun was already starting to sink. Hed take these things back to his home, and then would see to Grieves. He was not afraid anymore... Not of him, at least...

Chapter Three Deadline

Five Nights Ago The tools of your trade are much more flexible than one may initially realise. When people see daggers, see a mask, see ropes and firearms, their minds will stray to the worst case scenario. Before them stands a thief, or a bandit, never a hero or a protector. No one will force you to do anything other than play to your strengths, but with these strengths, you face, perhaps, a unique challenge. You must win the trust and hearts of strangers while wearing the face of someone theyd sooner see jailed or worse. I trust your silver tongue to spring you from situations that would otherwise look hopeless. Violence will very rarely be the answer when dealing with the concerned locals. A few well placed bribes or a healthy dose of charm will usually get you much further than bloodshed. Usually... Youre not a violent man by nature, because your mother was not violent. You were raised in a loving environment with moral boundaries that were arranged to be slightly expanded upon. You fell into a life of minor crime like so many others and it has given you the experience you need to grab a new opportunity by the horns with some expertise. You didnt become a criminal because you were having a hard time, Wyatt... You became a criminal because we wanted you to become a criminal. Youve lived a life of competition, dexterity, careful planning and a lack of routine. It makes you an ideal candidate. Youve struggled to maintain decent living conditions, resulting in you being chilled to the bones every time Glacenox sweeps across the land. This has made you strong, durable, determined to better your abilities. We are the weavers of fate... Not of everyones fate, but of yours, and a few others. I have already answered all questions you might have, but you must remember them. You must learn to control your powers to unlock your destiny. The concept of this is repellent to most. I should clarify that your will is your own. We cannot know what you will say or what you will do in situations born of spontaneity, but we can take the building blocks of a life and arrange them in ways too easy to resist, or too hard to avoid. As you are already no doubt aware, there is a plot afoot. Some lesser minded individuals would argue its too complicated, too obscure. Youll just have to take my word for it when I state how important this process is to your development. Your dreams are raw and powerful, as they are with anyone. The most creative man may suffer from an artistic block until they bear witness to the wild, untamed plain of their subconscious. Think of the potential behind a dream if they are capable of enhancing your talents in such a way. Learn to control this, to access the predominantly dormant part of your mind, and you will be able to access a part of your mind others cannot. You will be able to remember how many birds you saw in the sky on your fifth birthday, you will be able to quickly solve puzzles much more efficiently...You will be able to write novels of unfathomable beauty, illustrate images too complicated to accurately critique... But most importantly of all... You will have full access... to The Pale.

Present Day Dusk was creeping looming down upon the Everlast Woods. The waning moon would rise soon. In a few more nights, it would be full, heralding a fenrye attack, somewhere on Sovreignous, just as it had done for the past fifty nine years when the Beast War first began. Wyatt had been in Fern on a number of occasions during a fenrye attack. The entire continent went into lockdown as the evening approached, every bloodmoon. Wolfbane Pact soldiers would patrol the streets in every town, every city, every farm, every secluded school and every dock. Naturally, this meant their resources and heads were scattered few and far between. The fenryes fear tactic was perfect. In spending just a few of their fanatical warriors, they could destroy entire settlements, purely by feeding upon the spread security of their enemies. Of course, this rarely happened. Many of the Pact soldiers were experienced and well trained, not to mention kitted out with technology which far surpassed anything the fenrye possessed... But they were faster, stronger, more durable and more determined. They didnt know fear and they would always die fighting. They rarely retreat, and they never surrender. They were remorseless in their goals. If a towns soldiers were killed, the citizens would be at their mercy, something which, in all the years of battling them, the fenrye never showed. There had been a few incidents in the past where the civilians themselves had stopped the fenrye once their defenders had fallen, through sheer numbers alone, but the casualty rates were always very high. For the most part, the mounted defences and rifle men were enough to take care of the small bands that invaded every lunar cycle, but for every kill the fenrye made, the Pact grew smaller. In the fifty nine years the war had been raging, The Wolfbane Pact had shrunken to the size of some of the larger bandit tribes. They could only afford to have a dozen soldiers in every major settlement, and smaller ones such as Fern would be lucky to get five or six. A single wrangler in each town would usually be enough to deal with any fenrye leyborn, and maybe ten normal fenrye. Still though, with the speed in which the fenrye were dropping the Pacts remaining bodies, soon enough, Sovreignous would have no one left to defend it. The fenrye would pour across the land and finally fulfil their goddess given goal. It was a miserable fate. Many fenrye experts believed that over on The Scarred Lands, they already had enough warriors to take the entire world. They just seemed to be waiting a little longer, sending only small bands every full moon. No one knew when they would finally send their full armies. It could be in a year, maybe five, maybe ten. It would simply be when their deity told them to do it. Wyatt emerged from his house, his shadow briefly stretched by the light sources within. Hed dropped off his fathers belongings before the memory of an earlier dream had burrowed its way into his conscious mind. It had past now, leaving him a little exhausted, but hungry for more. The burning mounted torches above the doors of the tavern looked very welcoming as Wyatt approached the large double doors to the long building. The flames illuminated the sign above the porch which read The Saberls Stare* A nearby bin toppled over, a quish rolling out from within. *Saberls are sabre toothed cats that roam the grassy plains of Norvask. The Saberls Stare is the name given to the ritual two males perform when they are competing for a female. Saberls do not fight each other to preserve their own numbers. Instead, they have a staring competition which can last up to five days before one of the two males yields to go in search of food and water. The remaining saberl gets the girl.

Quish; fat, football sized orange flightless birds, were the comic relief of Sovreignous animal kingdom. They also fed many of the local predators, making them an important part of the ecosystem. Humans didnt hunt them so much; they tasted bloody awful. The orange sphere blinked at Rook, slowly, before flopping on its belly and deflating like a punctured tire. Rook laughed at it. What an atrocious defence mechanism. It was meant to confuse their predators. It certainly confused him. He walked on, leaving the considerably thinner quish lying motionless on the ground. Pushing the doors of the tavern open, the sounds of many loud patrons reached his ears, some of their voices already slurred by the effects of alcohol. Rook had a few hours before Grieves would get here. He could unwind a little bit, spend some time with his friends, and have a few drinks. He walked deeper into the warm inn, weaving past a few individuals and heading to the bar. The smell of split ale was always fairly strong here. It wasnt exactly an upper class watering hole. The constant shouts and the occasional smash of a mug were loud enough to almost dull the other senses. It wasnt quite late enough yet to see the brawls, but they would come later. They always did. What can I get you? The barkeep said as Wyatt approached. He then stopped and squinted, his poor vision focusing upon Rook. He glowered as he recognised the mans face I aint serving you, Rook. You already owe me forty sancs. Rook grinned, reaching into his hide jackets pocket and pulling out a jingling sack of coins. He tossed it to the barkeep, who just barely managed to catch it. Now you owe me a drink, Trent. The Barkeep scoffed, not buying it. He counted the money quickly, his amused expression transforming into one of pleasant surprise Well Ill be damned, Rook. You said youd pay up and you finally did it. Looks like I owe you an apology Forget about it. I wouldnt trust me either. Get me a firebrand, would you? In Lumina? I like my drinks strong! You, my friend, should know that by now. Trent smirked, closing his fingers around one of the taps and snatching a flagon up with his others. He filled the vessel to its foaming brim before sliding it a few feet forward towards Rook. It sloshed a little bit didnt spill much. Enjoy. Thanks. Is Aris here? Trent glanced around I dont think so. Have a look yourself. Rook frowned What? She in trouble? ...Im... not sure... I hope not. Aston? No, he aint here either. Vince? No... Id notice him come in. Everyone would. Wyatt sighed, sitting down on a stool at the bar Youre my best friend here, Trent. Do you realise how depressing that is? Trent smiled and nodded, vigorously I do! Rook swivelled around on his stool and stared out towards the mixture of people standing around the open room. Clusters of friends sat around tables on long cushioned benches. A group of three rugged looking men were singing loudly together, tunelessly near the back wall. Another pair of young men were flirting with a couple of woman sat at another table. There was also a single, shady figure sat in the corner, like something from a thriller novel. Wyatt twirled on his stool again, turning to Trent Whos the stranger over yonder? Trent eyed the shadowed the mysterious man. He shuffled cautiously and leant in to Rook

...Hes a dangerous man... A champion of darkness... Dont make eye contact with him whatever you do... The guards are already on their way... Wyatt blinked and whispered back What?... Seriously? Trent swatted him on the head No, idiot. Thats Fred. He shouts at birds and throws snowballs at children. Wyatt nodded with realisation, rubbing his temple. He waved a hand to Fred Whatcha hiding back there for, bud? Fred didnt answer. He appeared visibly bothered by the fact someone had acknowledged him. His eyes shimmered in the darkness as he frantically looked in all directions, seemingly for some means of escape. Rook frowned, sipping his drink and wincing a little as the sting of the alcohol hit him. Hes been getting worse lately. Doctors cant help him. Ah Fred. I have some fond memories of him. Hes like the town drunk and village idiot all rolled into one insane bundle. I saw him having a philosophical argument with a stray dog once... and losing. Thats nothing. I once saw Fred set fire to himself, shouting that it would stop the fenrye from coming. I saw Fred punch a widow in the face for wearing, and I quote; Too much black. Farl... Ok you win. Trent walked to the other end of the bar to serve another few customers, leaving Wyatt sat alone at his stool. A loud cheer stormed across the room as the three singing drunks came to the end of their piece. They were pleased with their musical prowess, evidently, making them the only ones in the bar with this line of thought. Wyatt drank some more of his firebrand whiskey, grinning a little as he felt the warmth reach his belly and fought back the burn in his throat. Fred started rambling to himself, manically but quietly. He flashed his paranoid gaze around the room for what felt like the hundredth time before covering his head with his arms. Some of the assemblies called for another round, sending off one of their numbers to acquire more beverages. The atmosphere was happy and pleasant, and it would remain so for the entirety of Lumina. During Glacenox, or Glaze, it was a different story. Alcohol became a necessity to many people, as they consumed drinks with a high alcohol count to grant the illusion of warmth; drinks such as the firebrand. A group of three not unattractive women walked in, giggling. Their arrival turned a fair few heads and they waved, boldly. They had confidence in their strides, shooting flirtatious bedroom eyes at a number of watchful individuals, Rook included. They approached the bar, crowding around it and placing their orders. Trent was more than happy to serve them Three butterhops, coming up he said, going to another tap. Rook smiled at one of the women who had taken a seat beside him. She gave a small smile back, but something in her eyes indicated she wasnt easy. Rook smirked, staring forward again. He enjoyed a challenge. He subtly checked her reflection in the reflective glasses lined up opposite him, taking in every detail, scrutinously. She was pretty, made up, her lips painted a ruby red and her blonde hair was styled into pretty curls. She bore no ring upon her finger, suggesting she wasnt married, although a red mark was just about visible on her ring fingers centre. Her clothes were fairly stylish with a slightly exposed cleavage area, indicating she was looking to attract the attention of men. Her legs were crossed, sassily. She grabbed her drink aggressively as soon as it was placed before her and downed some of it without hesitation. Her fingers remained wrapped around the flagon. She was upset about something, but was trying to hide it. Her friends knew. One of them had a reassuring hand on her shoulder. It was subtle, but symbolic. Wyatt came to a conclusion. She had just come

out of a relationship, a marriage by the looks of it, and was now looking for other men to either satisfy her need for intimacy or to make her former husband jealous. He would play to this weakness. Wyatt mentally prepared himself. The initial impressions were the most important part of courting a female. As he came up with the perfect line in his head using the evidence hed gathered, the door to the tavern burst open, and the patrons standing closest to the entrance let out a welcoming cheer. Everyone turned to investigate the commotion. There was only one person Wyatt knew who could cause excitement of these proportions. No one stepped through the door as it shut, or at least, no one tall did. A small crowd of people had gathered and were obscuring the view. They emitted a chorus of delighted greetings and Wyatt caught sight of a large, colourful feather bouncing up and down through the gaps in the mass. A moment later, a smirking furry face shifted through the crowd. Vince was a vermus; a race of sapient, intelligent otter-like humanoids. Vermus were small, standing at a little under three feet. They were nearly always seen wearing elegant, expensive looking noble outfits and military jackets which gave them a look of cunning, charm and class. They had a tendency to wear satin hats with a single, vibrant feather upon its crown. Vince was no exception. His whiskers twitched as he strolled over, a tiny bit clumsy in his boots, his long red jacket flicking with the movements of his tail. He flashed an award winning smile, flashing his little fangs. The girls looked down at him, giggling. Vince took one look at the girl Wyatt had his eye on, and in a split second, he had leapt up with bestial agility and was sitting on the bars edge, looking at her with those big black beady eyes. He spoke, like all vermus, in a posh, literate tone. He was a bumbling fool to let one as enticing as you escape, my lady He removed his hat and brought it to his chest, closing his eyes and bowing his head You should seek those who would not match his grave errors Wyatt chuckled, quietly. He wasnt going to compete with Vincent. It would be a waste of time. The divorcee leant forward a little, giving Vince a stern look. One such as yourself, vermus? I cant see you being tied down... This woman was smart, but Vince was smarter. He offered her a predatory gaze It would be an error of my own to disallow a resplendent flower such as yourself bloom without the shackles of commitment... I would not let you escape, my lady, because I would know where our time ends. You would not escape, because there would be no need to escape. A flower blooms. I cannot stop it from blooming, I cannot slow the process, and would object to those that would. Im sure your husband would say something differently. The womans two friends giggled while she leant forward further I dont do vermus... Vince pointed his little hand, again flashing his canines I have heard that same statement countless times. You only delay the inevitable... For you are beautiful, and I, would it be possible, would be stunned into silence by a single glance. I am intrigued... You just love the sound of your own voice... Perhaps... But you love it more... Their heads moved closer, while Wyatt and the two female friends watched with faces twisted as they restrained their laughter. The vermuss whiskers brushed against its preys cheek ...Whats your name?... Vince asked, quietly. Florence... Ahh... he whispered into her ear, gently breathing her name Florence... derived from the term Flora... you are a flower by name and by apparel. The woman shivered a little before breaking away and standing up

Sorry. Not interested. She said, grabbing her drink and walking away to another table, the two friends at her heels. Wyatt grinned at Vince as he strolled along the bar, his boots clunking down upon the wood. That smile, Rook. Do you think my efforts were in vain? Wyatt sipped his drink I aint saying nothing he said into his mug, his voice echoing from within. Just stay your comments. I assure you, this is not over. He grunted as he flipped acrobatically onto the now empty stool beside Rook, a few shots being lined up before him by Trent, who obviously knew the drill already. Howd it go? Trent asked as he filled the glasses. Not terribly well, I fear. Vince replied as he grabbed one of the shots, with both hands. They are still reluctant to give me my Court Name. Unfortunately they perceive me as separated from the vermus community; ergo they obtusely came to the conclusion that my name would be meaningless, just as my input supposedly is. He glugged down the first shot, his tail quivering a little. He placed his hat down upon the wooden bar, an ounce of sadness in his charismatic eyes. Wyatt was a little confused. The vermus culture was very different to the humans. What name? You have a name Wyatt asked. Vince chuckled at Rooks ignorance Hm hm. Indeed. However, my people have to earn our last names. Right now, I am Vincent. That is my full name. A vermus is not a true vermus until he has acquired a name gifted unto him by the High Court: A Court Name. Wyatt stared in disbelief No way? You have to earn your own names? Thats... horrible! Rook flailed as Vince smacked him with his hat Its not horrible, buffoon. Its symbolic. It gives us something meaningful to work for. It gives us a goal, a destination, and a role amongst our people. The names are always a tad literal, to convey elements of our past actions, our personalities, our roles in life, our purposes, our dreams... A court name is a thing of beauty, my friend... Right... Wyatt grumbled as he rubbed his head Sorry. I meant no offence. So the court arent giving you one? They are discussing it. Ive been attempting to argue my case all day, but the fact of the matter is, they are right. I am severed... But I like it here, in Fern. He sighed, grabbing another large shot A court name cannot be a product of vanity, Rook. I cannot submit a name for myself. Another must do it for me Could I? Wyatt asked. He was eager to help. Vince had taught him so much in his life; his speech, his feline grace, his bladed combat skills and his sleight of hand. As much as I appreciate the sentiment, it must be from someone with a non bias outlook. They must observe every aspect of my past, present and potential future, and choose a name for me. The names can sometimes be most... unpleasant... he gestured his fingered paw Enough about me. How are things with you? Wyatt took a deep breath. He could tell Vincent anything. Well, Ive been having cryptic messages sent to me in dream form which are penetrating my conscious through my subconscious to slowly reveal what I believe to be my destiny while juggling this with a pretty mean spirited debt collector and raiding Wolfbane Pact caravans to sell produce at the local markets! he gasped for air. Vincent raised an eyebrow I see... he said ...So youve been disembodied experiencing voices during your waking hours? Technically, no. Ive been remembering dreams Ive had in the past week and they seem to be in some sort of sequence. In reverse order?

I think so, yeah... Vincent stared at Wyatt. He wasnt surprised, but he was concerned. Hed heard every wild story and peculiar occurrence Wyatt had ever experienced or told. He knew of the ghosts, the voices, the strange dreams, although this was entirely new, and much more lucid. Usually Wyatts events could be explained with sterile logic, but, for a time, Vince was completely lost for words. Wyatt stared, expectantly. Hed come to rely on the advice of this fuzzy little man. Vincents ears drooped a little I believe you... I just... Dont know what to say. He rubbed his muzzle Just... dont allow it to influence you too much. Words are poison from the right tongues. Heh, thanks... I had a feeling youd be a little stumped. Its cool, bud. Itll probably pass. We both know Im farling insane Youre not insane, Rook. Vincent pointed to Fred Hes insane. I once saw Fred bite through a woolorths binding rope I once saw Fred tackle a blacksmith because the metal was screaming Vincent let out a hearty chuckle. His whiskers quivered as he raised his mug So... he said after another sip You mentioned a debt collector? Grieves? Yeah... Vince gave Wyatt a look a disappointment. It was stronger than any words he could have conjured. I know, I know! Wyatt exasperatedly cried Dont worry! Ive got the money to pay him back Do you have a contingency plan? Rook blinked A what? A contingency plan. A back up plan in case this one doesnt work. You know Grieves... hell fabricate an excuse to make you pay more... Ive got more than enough. Wyatt smiled. Its all good. I made a fair bit of money today. Ill even pay for your drinks! Vince growled a little under his breath I am uncomfortable allowing you to face that brute alone. Allow me to be your reinforcement should the situation call for it. I shall remain out of sight and strike only if absolutely necessary. Great, so straight out of his debt and into yours? Brother, you will never be in my debt. I would put my life on the line for you and I would ask for nothing in return but what you already give me He tapped his furry chest through the centre of his ornate jacket. Pride in my heart Wyatt smirked That was cheesy. I do not care. And they say you vermus guys are bad fathers. He bowed his head respectfully and gratefully to Vince You filled a void, my friend. It was my pleasure, I hope it will continue to be so. I shall be your guardian angel during this exchange. Alright. I appreciate it. Dont get too drunk, then Wyatt said, with a simper. Oh! How about that for a court name? Drunken-Angel? Vince pondered, twirling his whiskers. Vincent Drunken-Angel... I could live with that. He raised his little glass To ridiculous names! Wyatt clinked his flagon against the tiny shot. They both drank, again. Vinces bristles were already starting to droop a little, as they usually did when he was inebriated. His small body could not handle large quantities of human sized drinks, and three firebrand shots were enough to get him tipsy.

So! the otter said, thudding the empty glass down with unintentional force I would very much like to hear more of your... dreams. Wyatt placed his vacant flagon and signalled to Trent for another before turning to Vince They are different to most dreams. They are... complicated You struggle to understand them, you mean? Dreams are often fairly idiosyncratic. He stared at Wyatts blank expression ...They are strange. Wyatt nodded, his mouth slightly ajar. Vince smirked Is it the images that confuse you? Wyatt shook his head No, you dont understand. When I say they are complicated, I literally mean it... they use words I dont understand, words Ive never heard of. I sleep with a farl damn dictionary on my bedside table. Vince drummed his clawed fingers on the bar You must have heard the words before, allowing your subconscious to project them to you with a basic understanding. No one has ever called me disingenuous! Vince laughed As hard as I find that to believe, it wouldnt have necessarily had to have been aimed at your expense. You could have been walking by a... particularly well-spoken couple. They used the word in their conversation while you were barely listening. Your subconscious registered this. ...Its possible... I suppose... The human rested his head on his hand, his arm propped up by his elbow. He gave a nod to Trent as another drink was placed before him. Thanks. The thing is, Vince, what if theres more to this than imagination? All the more reason to keep it to yourself. Your secrets are of course safe with me, but I would not release this information to others I havent done. Not even my mother... What makes you so concerned? Vince picked up his hat and placed it on his head at an odd angle, pushing the brim down nearly over his eyes and staring cruelty at Wyatt The Wranglers. I wouldnt even show those bigots a card trick. They will find a way to convert your little mental predicament into a ley hunt. Wyatt gulped a little before grabbing his drink again Did you know theres one in town, right now?... I did. Vince muttered with a scowl She gave me an exceptionally foul look. Rook cheered, sarcastically Hooray! Racism! The two of them laughed. After swallowing another half of a shot, Vince had a quick glance around the bar, subtly eyeing his mark. He noticed her snap her gaze back to her friends as he turned. He smirked, his eyes falling upon Wyatt once again Here all alone? Im meeting Grieves here in a bit. Aris said shed be here too Vince looked at the ceiling, perhaps rifling through some fond memories Ah yes. Aris. How is the little fireling these days? Shes fine. Wyatt paused before awkwardly bouncing his stool a little closer to Vinces so he could speak to him without eavesdroppers Did you and her ever hook up Vince peered at Rook Did you ask her first? Yeah... And what did she say? She said no Vince tapped his stumpy muzzle Then, as a gentleman, I am obliged to give the same response Wyatt gasped You did! I knew it!

Im not saying anything. I remain in neutrality. Its perfectly understandable, however, for anyone to desire to hide their previous consorting with me from others. I respect privacy, and, alas, I am of a different species. Vince looked at his claws, casually I have come to learn the ins and outs of your kind, none the less... Pun intended? Wyatt asked, smothering a giggle. If you like. Vince replied, holding a straight face. Im nothing if not an entertainer He waved Trent over. The barkeep approached Whats up? Have another three butterhop ales sent to the fine ladies at the far right table. Only tell them who theyre from when they ask or object. He pointed to Trent Dont mess this up Wyatt smirked at the tiny schemer Whats the plan? Dont look at them. Dont acknowledge them. Keep your cool. Trent will point to me and I will need to do nothing but engage you. I am appealing to Florences sense of fantastical mystery, a trait many females find attractive, not necessarily for a long term commitment. He watched Trent approach the table with a tray of three mugs before spinning and facing forward, chatting to Wyatt still I assume I wasnt stealing your thunder? Maybe a little bit. It doesnt bother me too much. Have I got any chance with the two with her? Hm... Well, the one with the dark hair, perhaps. Ive seen her, as you would say, check you out a number of times. The other blonde, however, has a tendency to watch the other women in the bar, but only when she gets opportunities. She is masking her efforts, so her friends dont see her. Wyatt blinked Oh... Right. Gotcha. Wyatt went to investigate this himself, but Vince hissed quietly Dont look at them Wyatt froze, and obeyed. He heard Trent drop the drinks off. Naturally, they asked who they were from. He pointed to Vince, who must have seemed disinterested and a little cold. Vince analysed the situation quietly, without seeing it for himself They now have an opportunity to call out their thanks, or offer it to me later, more graciously. The two of them waited. No shouts came, at least, not from their table. Vince grinned a little. Trent returned Good enough? he asked, while approaching another thirsty citizen standing at the bar Good enough Vince replied. You know, she might just be a total bitch, Vince. Maybe she wont thank you at all? Wyatt warned him. He knew better than to do so but he enjoyed the vermuss responses. Even if that was the case, and she refuses to thank me, she will have to acknowledge me in some way to prolong our time together. Ive merely given her easy access to an excuse to do so. I dunno if shes interested, man... Of course you dont. He looked at Wyatt Youre not her, are you? Wyatt opened his mouth to answer but Vince interrupted Ahh buh buh buh! It was a rhetorical question. Do not answer it. His winking eye glinted, knowingly Give it a few hours. Fine grumbled Wyatt, lifting his drink Just dont be distracted when Grieves arrives... I will be the very definition of protection. Duly noted. As the night progressed, the taverns livelihood began to wane. Two hours of conversation later (which gradually became more and more slurred), the place was nearly dead. The last orders had

been called, and chairs were being stacked upon tables in preparation for the early morning cleaning. The milky light from Rimes moon flowed through the open door. It was almost deathly silent outside, with the croaking of frogs and chirping of insects just about audible from the depths of the forest. Inside, it was still a different story. Wyatt and Vince were shouting happily to one another, Wyatts face flushed red and Vinces whiskers drooping, dully. NO NO NO! Shut up! Im just sayin that...Im just saying that... you know, that thing! I said. Wyatt yelled. Vince shook his head, rapidly, repeatedly, as if breaking himself from a daze Incorrect! In... No... Im telling you its... posshible... I can pick... ANY lock... ANY lock... with a quail bone... Wyatt paused for a long time before sniggering, spontaneously I have no idea what youre talking about... HA! You never know what... Im talking... about! Vince tapped his forehead, or at least tried to. In truth, he poked himself in the eye. Wyatt laughed hysterically while Vince insulted him Ow... You lack... the mental.....aa...a...aptitude Comin from the weasel that just jabbed its own face! Vince glared fiercely before guffawing, merrily. The two drunken friends didnt see the wide shadow loom over them, two busy giggling into their final drinks. A heavy, muscular hand slammed down onto the bar before the two, making them both jump, a few drops of whiskey spilling onto the floor. Grieves had arrived, it would seem, and hed brought backup in the form of three burly, armed henchmen. That was disconcerting. Lets make this quick, Rook he snarled. Hand over the cash Rook beamed up at him, the broad shouldered monster blurred in his vision. He looked much less intimidating in this light Hiiiii Grieeeeves he said. Vince sniggered, quietly. THE MONEY, ROOK! NOW! Trent sighed as he placed more chairs atop the tables. He wouldnt get involved, so long as they didnt trash his bar. Wyatt reached into his pockets and lined up a number of coin pouches before Grieves. They disappeared into his ursine hands and he began counting the contents. The men at his heels cracked their knuckles, eagerly. Grieves snorted, glaring at Rook after a few minutes of counting This isnt enough. Wyatt blinked Uhh yeah it is. Theres at least two hundred sancs there. Wyatt whelped a little as Grieves stomped closer Youre forgetting interest... You owe me three hundred... Bullshit! Wyatt objected You cant just... There was a small scuffle as Grieves lifted Wyatt from the stool by the collar of his leather armour. Vinces eyes narrowed and his hand subtly moved to the hilt of a small rapier sword on his belt. Wyatt shook his head at him, signalling him to stand down before turning to Grieves again ...Fine... Ive got woolorths... how about you take one of them? Grieves face contorted into a hideous, black teethed crocodile grin. He dropped Wyatt, who nearly toppled over thanks to his drunken state That would suffice. Take me to them, now... and dont try to run away... I can barely... stand up, you farling marshmallow Vince giggled again, triggering a similar reaction from Wyatt. He was grabbed again and shoved in front of the lackies. Walk. Im goin! Im goin! he called back to Trent Add all this to my tab, Treeeent! Way ahead of you! the barkeep hollered back, as Rook was shoved out of the door, leaving Vince alone at the bar. Vince licked his fangs, chugging down the last shot, snatching up his

feathered hat and leaping from the stool. As he wobbled (stealthily) after Rook, he felt a hand on his shoulder. The vermus looked up to see Florence smirking down at him, on her knees. Youre leaving? Vince looked a little surprised, before answering in the most sobre voice he could manage ...Not without you... His mind strayed from the matter at hand, while Wyatts drunken sarcasm faded into the night. Wyatt wobbled with an irregular stroll, occasionally stumbling forward when the mean looking flunkies shoved him. Keep walking, tiny. Grieves barked, for the fourth time already. Where are you leading us? If this is a trap... I will not be held responsible for my actions... Relax, extra chunky... Ive got a cart... uh... he fought to find the words in his inebriation ...The... thing... he waved his hand at the forest. Ohh this reminds me... of that.... s...sssong. You know? Start singing, and Ill break your arm. Grieves warned. Hurry up. Move. Let me find my bearings... Rook stopped, spinning around, awkwardly. He rotated about eight hundred degrees before pointing in the correct direction Thaaaat way. He marched, the thugs in his wake. The group disappeared into the blackened density of the night shrouded forest. Wyatt fought the urge to skip. He really wanted to skip. Skipping was cool. He kept an eye out for the glowing shapes of the kyne hed remembered surrounding his payload. Grieves and the others started to look a little nervous. From an external perspective, it must have looked fairly suspicious to lead a bunch of your enemies into the secluded, lack-of-witnesses darkness of the Everlast Woods, so Wyatt understood, just about. He spotted the prismatic luminescence of the kyne through the trees. It was beautiful, pastel shades of blue, pink, green and yellow dancing off the jagged bark. They walked out into the clearing where the carriage was parked, but, instantly, he realised something was not quite right... Something was missing... something important. Theres nothing here, Rook! Ah, that was it. The entire thing had vanished. Typical. Uh... Thats... Huh? he hazily performed a visual sweep, spotting something glinting in the moonlight on a nearby tree. He tottered over to examine the source. It was a dagger, embedded deeply into the trees trunk. It had impaled a paper note which was flapping slightly in the calm evening breeze. Wyatt snatched the page down with a satisfying rip and read it, squinting through unfocused eyes Rook Never trust a thief. Aris. Aris had stolen the carriage. No wonder shed never shown her face at the tavern, she was too busy leaching off of Wyatts work, that parasitic little she-devil. Rook screwed the note into a ball and lobbed it on the ground. He stomped on it repeatedly, hoping that shed feel it, somehow, somewhere. His rage was transmuted into fear as he came to terms with his situation. He pivoted, setting his nervous stare to Grieves once again ...Aris stole my woolorths... You should go find her, not me... Grieves glared, sinisterly.

Aris aint the one who owes me money, Rook. I...I... know that... but, if youd just... You cant pay us... and the deadline is up. You know what that means... Wyatt staggered backwards and pressed against the tree the knife was sticking from as two of the hungry-eyed attack dogs approached, removing some large metal clubs from their waists. At the risk of sounding like a clich... were gonna have to teach you a lesson... The brute raised his hands to the forest around him And thanks for making it so easy... Its always messy when people spot us... Grieves, Ill pay you tomorrow! Too late. He nodded to the two mace gripping underlings while he stood back and watched with his third. They raised their weapons, menacingly, and Wyatt, frozen by fear, could do nothing to resist. It was at this moment, when time seemed to stand still, impossibly. The barbarians froze, midswing. A voice echoed through his mind. He recognised it, it was the voice from the dream The challenges you face as a criminal, as a low life, as one of Rimes unfortunates... will strengthen you... if you choose to never give in, and never surrender. Compose yourself! The rules of society, of reality no longer restrict you! You MUST survive! You MUST! Wyatt felt his spirits lifted, the voice being of some comfort to him. Faster than hed ever moved before, Rook snatched the dagger from the bark overhead and twisted his body to avoid the two vertical blows. In a pair of well aimed slashes, hed severed the hamstrings of the two assaulters, causing them to crumble to the floor, wailing in agony. He leapt over their prone bodies, hurling the knife at the third henchmen who was reaching for his weapon. The blade sliced through the mans flesh and stuck into his elbow, restricting his right arms movements. He joined in the far from harmonic screaming of his two friends, while Grieves pulled out (to Rooks horror) a gun. Where the hell did he get that? Wyatt panted a little, the adrenaline flooding through him. He raised his arms in a feeble attempt to appeal to Grieves merciful side. The click as he pulled back the hammer suggested that this plan wasnt going to work. Good bye, Mister Rook he said, his finger squeezing the trigger. The gunshot cracked through the night. The cruel embrace of hot lead and excruciating pain surged through Wyatts chest as the metal ball penetrated his left lung. The force of the bullet threw him off his feet, where he landed a few metres in front of the men hed crippled. He could barely breathe, and he felt blood leak into his throat. He coughed, unable to move, staring up at the night sky, lying on his back. The stars were so pretty, Rook thought to himself, at least theyd be a sight to go out on. Or not, it would seem, as Grieves trollish form slowly drifted before his field of vision. The smoking gun barrel pointed down at him, a few specs of gunpowder trickling onto his face. I do hate repeating myself... his voice said, in a fluctuating tone as Wyatt fought to remain conscious. So do I... a familiar voice answered. Grieves didnt have time to turn. The silhouette of a sword appeared from his chest, forced straight through his heart from his back Thats why I only need one shot... Grieves choked, gasping for air before toppling onto his side. Wyatt would have made a joke about the ground shaking upon impact if he wasnt quite so incapacitated. The rest of you... Get out of here... or you shall not be as lucky as he was in death...

Vinces furry face appeared over Rook. He had the unmistakable stains of lipstick across his face and neck which Wyatt took notice of as Vince quickly applied pressure to the wound, tearing up his precious hat Guh...Guess you... ngh... Were right again...Heh...heh heh... Dont talk, brother. Even when drunk... y...you can still... Wyatt... Wyatt fell silent. Vince never used his first name I will get you help. Youre going to be fine, I swear. He hastily created a bandage from his own attire, wrapping Wyatts wound up as tightly as he could. Once hed applied this, he looked around, desperately. There was only one option he could think of Wyatt... Im so sorry... But I need to leave you here to fetch some assistance... On my name, I will return. On my life, you will survive. He straightened up, naked aside from his belt and blade. Hold on, brother... he turned and dashed off on all fours, leaving Wyatt lying alone in the grass. Kyne drifted above Rook, leaving colourful trails in the sky, the stars and the moon just visible through their wispy, transparent figures. Wyatt managed a smile, holding it for as long as he could, before he felt the cold flow through him, and fell limp.

Chapter Four They Call to Us

Eight Nights Ago There is nothing more defining in an individuals life than the pain you experience. In the way an animal learns to avoid repeating its actions following physical pain, most sapient life will seek to approach a situation differently following mental or physical pain. I wont pretend that everyone learns from their mistakes; people still drink themselves to an early grave, people still abuse narcotics and poke feral beasts repeatedly on the nose with the one remaining finger they had left after said beast had devoured the others... These people are morons, Wyatt. Youre not a moron, are you? Your pain will define you in another way. You will learn how to approach the precipice of life, and take leaps of faith. You may learn to embrace pain, to truly appreciate the thrill of the encroaching rush of the spirit realms power. You may, but then you may not. Either way, your pain will shape you, it will alter not only your perspectives, your ideas, your theories, but also the way you approach danger, the ways you move while you fight, the words you pick when The Pales Echoes whisper to you. Dont be afraid. It hurts, I know, more than you realise, but like so many things in life, the concept of equivalent trade is present. Your suffering will be rewarded, in a way so tangible, youll think it to be a beautifully constructed lie. Im proud of you, Wyatt. You pulled through on your first time. Thats more than I can say for many of those previously in your shoes. Yes, it is true, you are not the first, and you will not be the last to feel a phantom presence, to age in fear of the ghouls in their closets. You will not be the end of a noble quest, just another cog in the ever turning machine, and every time your life is threatened, every time you teeter on the edge of oblivion, your power grows. This will be little solace to you now, as you lie there, internally cursing your very existence, but it gets better, eventually. I will guide you to the light, but first you must press through the claiming darkness. I know youre frustrated too. I would be, in your position. The cryptic messages, the irregular trajectory your life has taken, its all bordering on overwhelming. Something that will perhaps help is the knowledge that there are those who share your burdens... You are not alone. All around the world, others are hearing the voices too, their dreams conduits for our messages. Youve got further than most of them. Its not a competition, of course, but I know you are twice the worth they are. You are unyielding. Look at you; youve survived a gunshot to the chest. Your subconscious saved you, Wyatt... and as Ive said before, you will learn to control this. Itll become clear soon. Were getting so close to the big unveiling, but first you will face challenges, here and there... nothing too taxing. You did just get shot, after all. Dont take this the wrong way. I dont want to make it easy for you, simply because I know I do not have to. You will persevere, and you will triumph, through struggle, and hardship. Just remember, Wyatt... Its always darkest before the dawn. Now Rise.

Present Day Mister Rook?... The words hammered against the inside of Wyatts head, like a precious silence had been shattered Mister Rook? Are you with me? So many questions! It was irritating, the words colliding, clashing against the dream that had woken him. He just needed five more minutes, please! ...Wyatt? Rook snapped his eyes open. A gleaming coal lamp being shone down onto his face dazzled him. He groaned and squinted through his eyelids, peering around, a blurry shadow moving at his side. He was lying on an uncomfortable elevated bed, with his shirt and jacket missing. Medical instruments surrounded the room, some of them stained with what must have been his own blood. The vines creeping along the walls and ceiling were a dead giveaway to his location. He was in Mayas surgery. The bioborn owner was leaning over him. She flashed a smile as Rook dizzily set his gaze upon hers. She was truly a sight for sore eyes. ...Hey... he grunted, with some difficulty. It hurt to talk, to breathe, and to move. It hurt to do pretty much everything. People must know. ...Ow... Wyatt said, in a subtle attempt to sap some sympathy from the gorgeous woman tending to him Aww she said. It worked. Awesome. Do you remember what happened? Wyatt raised himself up a little, glancing down at his exposed chest. There was no wound, and no bandages to cover any. A tiny circular scar was there however, over his ribcage like a cigar burn. ...You fixed me... Rook sighed, with relief. Thanks... It was close... We didnt think you were going to make it... You wouldnt have done if it werent for... she trailed off, suspiciously. Wyatt frowned ...I got the bullet out and used the ley to close the wound. Youre lucky, sweetie. Back track a little there, love. Wyatt grumbled, supporting himself as he painfully hauled his body into a seated position How did I make it? Maya sighed. She displayed a look that could only be followed by bad news Your clothless vermus friend... He burst into the cabin, shouting about how you were injured and that you needed help. He nearly knocked out the wrangler guarding me to pull me away... ...He attacked a wrangler? Rook said, quivering at the very prospect No. She saw reason and accompanied us to your side... but thats when things got a bit... odd. Wyatt answered with nothing but a tilted head and a slightly furrowed brow. She continued You were... well... she sighed ...frozen... You mean... cold? No, frozen. Encased in ice. Someone preserved you in temporary cryostasis... The blood loss was minimised. It saved your life... Wyatt blinked. He had felt the cold envelop him as he lost consciousness; at the time hed assumed it was just one of the many elements of death. How? he asked Who did it? It was something the wrangler recognised. She barked something about it being a cryoborn ability. She was prepared to take you away but then... Your vermus friend stepped forward and claimed he was responsible for it... Wyatts eyes widened in horror What?! Vince isnt a leyborn! Why would he do that?! Is he ok?! Oh FARL! Maya flattened her hands and ushered Wyatt down

Hes fine. Hush, now... she pushed Wyatt down as he tried to get to his feet Just sit there and listen to me! Vince was taken to the Leylands Wyatt opened his mouth in horror, the remaining colour draining from his already pale face ...But hes not a leyborn... They cant hold him there! Wyatt tugged at his scruffy hair Why would he lie?! Because they were about to take you away... Wyatt groaned loudly, practically dragging his palm down his panic stricken face Im not a leyborn either. Stupid wranglers dont know how to do their jobs Vince saved you, Wyatt. Thats what you should be taking away from this. Perhaps he didnt freeze you, but before the wranglers took him away, he asked me to explain this to you: He said that... youve been having dreams, hearing voices... is this true? ... Wyatt looked away. ...I dont need a psycho evaluation... Im not calling you crazy. Vince believes there is more significance to those dreams than you realise. You told him they may be guiding you to your... destiny? Yeah. Right. That doesnt make me sound crazy at all. Wyatt muttered with a slight glower. His head sunk into his hands again Vince... You moron... The wranglers wouldnt have rested until they took one of you away. He believes that your purpose will be better fulfilled when you arent held against your will Wyatt looked at Maya, desperately Youve been to the Leylands! You were held there! Vince is gonna be ok, right?! Maya sighed, sitting down on the end of the bed Wyatt was upon Its... pretty rough there, I wont lie. The wranglers that guard the place are merciless... they kill us if we... misbehave... VINCE IS THE KING OF MISBEHAVING!! Wyatt yelled, clawing at his own face He basically wrote the book on misbehaving! again he tried to stand up, failing miserably, even without the restraint from the doctor at his side. Ngh... so who DID freeze me? Well... unless you have an invisible guardian... Maya shrugged ...You did. Silence fell through the room. Wyatt stared, his eye brow gradually raising until the expression on his face matched one of utter incredulity ...You know, for someone so pretty, you dont half talk some crap... I didnt know I was a leyborn either until the power manifested into an identifiable form. Thats how it is with all of us... I think youre a cryoborn... You cant just assume that because you found me and I was a little chilly! You were encased in a block of ice... Only a cryoborn could have done that. Then it was someone else! Rook growled. He struggled to his feet, staying upright this time. He grimaced, holding his hand against his ribs during his approach to the door. Something pecked at the back of his mind and he turned briefly Just out of curiosity... how did you know my name? Some bioborn power, huh? Some intrusive brain squeeze?! ...No... Maya uttered. She looked a little hurt Weve actually met before. You were about eight years old at the time. This was before the wranglers... before I even knew I was a leyborn. I was just your standard doctor and your mother wanted me to fix you, since you kept seeing things... Maya played with her fingers ...I came to the same diagnosis then, as well. I believe you are leyborn... I thought perhaps you were necroborn... the necroley sends human hosts insane... she giggled softly I remember being terrified, but you were just a child. I didnt tell anyone... because the wranglers would have killed you Wyatt smirked at Maya; hed already found flaws in her story

Nice try, but if you were a doctor when I was a kid, that would put you in your late thirties or forties.. ...Im forty one... Wyatt blinked Holy crap, youre beautiful! Mayas sincerity faded. She laughed, loudly, going to her supply cupboard, this time fetching a few painkiller pills. Bioborn age slower. She turned If you insist upon leaving, Wyatt, I cant hold you here... at least take these with you. She looked Wyatt up and down quickly ...Maybe consider putting some clothes on... Ah... Wyatts ashen complexion was washed with an embarrassed shade of red. Hed forgotten about that ...Yeah... Maya grinned, pointing to a hooked stand beside the door. Wyatts leather upper garments were dangling from one of the arms, the shirt stained with his blood. He clumsily and hastily snatched them up and garbed himself. He threw the scarf around his neck, smiling nervously at Maya as she approached and placed the painkillers into his hand If you need them, take them at least eight hours apart, ok? Ok... he turned to the door ...Doc? Yes? ...What do I do... if I am a leyborn? Maya hesitated, conflict screaming through her silence ...Dont tell anyone... and if anyone finds out... run Wyatt nodded. He pocketed the pills and pushed the door open Bye, doc. Come and see me again if you need me, Wyatt. Be careful out there today. Ive seen a lot of wranglers. Rook headed through the waiting room, which was currently empty. The surgery must have been closed to the public at the moment. Glancing out of the window, Wyatt could tell it was early in the morning; the sun had only just risen, stretching shadows and dyeing the sky a pallid orange. Hed been unconscious all night, evidently. His body ached. It felt almost drained. He wasnt tired, but somehow he felt leeched of life. It was unpleasant. He left the building, the crisp morning air providing some refreshment following his humid stay in the plant dominated bioborn domain. He stepped out, his boots sliding slightly in the damp grass. Mist drifted through the air, coupled with the lazy morning ambience of Fern itself. It felt peaceful. That is at least, until Wyatt heard an ominous click behind his back. He span around, dreading what he was about to see. He found himself staring down the stirrup of a one-handed crossbow. The tip of the bolt was pointed right at Wyatts neck. The guarding wrangler stared, sizing him up. She spoke, her voice muffled, as if it was inside a gasmask You need only slip up once... Wyatt felt his anger bubbling away inside him Im not a leyborn! he retorted. The wrangler approached, her spurred ankles clinking with each foreshadowing step. She raised the brim of her hat, piercing Wyatts eyes with her own. Wyatt held his cool, staring back. He convinced himself he had nothing to hide, and this must have been transmitted through his gaze, as the wrangler fell back to her post without another word and returned the crossbow to her belt. Move along... she said, eventually. Wyatt didnt need to be told twice. He began retreating back to his awful home. For the first time in a while, hed be happy to see it. Stay indoors, citizen... the wrangler called after him ...When you get the opportunity.. What did she mean by that? Were they going to storm the town?

It became clear fairly quickly as he snailed his way across the quiet village. Through the mist, the ghostly outlines of perhaps a dozen other wranglers were dotted around. They were concealing themselves around corners, behind hedges and amongst a few abandoned wooden market stalls. Their sites were as one, all fixed upon one of the cabins. Wyatt, being a terrible neighbour, had no idea who lived in this house, but he was glad it wasnt him. A few of the wranglers caught sight of Wyatt. They waved him away, treating him like an obstruction to their goals. He obeyed, avoiding the locked down zone the wranglers had created and walking back to his home. Hed half expected one of the creepy masked hunters to be staking his place out, but fortunately, this was not the case. A sense of sanctuary rushed through him as he unlocked and pushed open his front door. It slammed shut behind Rook and he inhaled happily. Ah, the smell of a neglectful but wranglerless life. For a brief moment, he forgot about Vince, but not for long. His happiness was short lived. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, advancing upon his bed. He still felt drained, and the mattress was so inviting. A slight muffled skittering caught Wyatts attention, causing him to peer down into one of the cabins corners. A small, tuftly little fanged mouse was thrashing about in the cage trap Maya had given him yesterday. Wyatts mood lit up YES! he shouted, pointing to the confined vampire syse I GOT YOU! He rushed over, picking the cage up Not so bitey now, are you? You little parasite! The syse covered its large reflective eyes, trembling. YEAH! Fear me! Im a lot more scary when Im actually bloody awake, aint I?! Rook?... Wyatt yelled with surprise, dropping the cage to the floor. It split open and the syse escaped between the floorboards. NO NO NO! Rook yelled. He fumed, turning towards the one who had said his name. Aston was standing there. For crying out loud! Rook growled You just walked in here? Couldnt you have at least knocked?! ...Sorry... he said, hanging his head. That was odd. Aston was never tolerable. ...Are you alright, mate? How did the sleeper thing go? Aston rubbed his nose. He looked a little sickly. It uh... It didnt go well... Thats too bad. I did warn you though... Are the other guys alright? The ones you took with you? Aston took a few steps forward, again hesitating with his answer They... No, they arent. Most of them died... he raised his arms and let them go limp again She killed them... She was a mother... got all enraged when we approached. Maternal instinct must have woken her up... Wyatt winced a little Farl... Well let me fix you up a drink or something He walked towards the kitchen area I know I didnt show it, but I was worried sick. I really didnt want you to go... He opened the stove, dropped to his knees (with some difficulty due to his injury) and started fiddling with a mechanism on the iron innards. It was a flint wheel, operated by a handle on the stoves outer casing. When turned, the wheel scratched against a steel block, and the resulting friction produced sparks which ignited the coal and wood below. Wyatt checked it was in working order Im glad youre ok he continued, his voice echoing, bouncing off the internal metal walls of the oven I really needed some good news. He pulled his head from the cooker, rubbing some black dust from his face. He shut it and started turning the handle Youve had it rough too?... Wyatt nodded, focussed on lighting the stove up. The grinding wheel made a horrible screech

I got shot, in the lung. Leyborn fixed me up The stove fired up, warmth radiating from within. Rook placed a kettle upon the metal conductor on top. The water within sloshed about. Vince has been taken away by wranglers... he clicked his fingers, turning to Aston And Aris is a two faced bitch who Id like to murder! ...I bet my day was worse... Aston sighed, running his fingers through his hair. Rook... I need to ask ya a favour... Rook touched the metal cooking hob plate of the stove to check its progress, retracting his hand quickly when it burnt him. Sure. Lets hear it. Rook said, grabbing a stool that hed left in the kitchen and pulling it to his feet. He sat down and watched Aston, who was miserably fighting to find the right sentences. Spit it out, man Rook demanded, with a smirk. ...When I left to find the sleeper... I kinda... didnt tell Lauren... Lauren was Astons fiance. Wyatt chuckled and tapped his nose I getcha. I wont tell her Aston smiled a little Actually, I need ya to do the opposite... he gave Wyatt a pained look I need ya to tell her what happened. Huh? Wyatt blinked Why? Do it yourself! Shes your girl, not mine I cant. If I could, I would... but I need you to do it Tell me why, then... Wyatts request was answered with a sorrowful sigh I cant tell ya that either. Im under oath... Apparently itll become clear soon. He pleaded further Rook, I wouldnt tell ya to do this unless I had a powerful need... Can I trust ya? Can I rely on ya? Rook stared for a long time. The kettle started whistling behind him. He ignored it, trying to analyse the look in his friends eyes. ...Aston, what happened? Promise me, Rook... Again, silence fell between them. It wasnt an incredibly unreasonable request, but it was certainly a strange one. Rook couldnt see how it could harm him to do this for his friend ...Alright... I promise. Ill talk to her later today, alright? Thanks, pal. Could you give her another message too? Shoot Could you tell her Im sorry... and that I love her? Wyatt was worried now. He took a step towards Aston who, in turn, took a step back, keeping his distance. Wyatt stopped Are you leaving? Something like that... Could you tell her, please? Oh... and if she doesnt believe its from me, tell her to look in the pockets of the coat she hates... shell know what I mean Wyatt absorbed all of the information, slowly, almost unwillingly. ...Fine... he uttered Ill tell her... but I need you, kinda... I mean youre practically the only friend I have left... Sorry if that sounds selfish but Ive earned a little bit of indulgence... A small smirk stretched across Astons lips Sorry, buddy. If its any conciliation, youll be out of this dump soon. I doubt that Wyatt grumbled. He turned, pulling the boiling kettle from its metal cooking plate. He snatched a few herbs from a nearby pot and tossed them into a mug; they would act as flavouring for the drink he was preparing. He spoke as he filled the mug with steaming water which quickly blended into a pleasant shade of green Ill make sure its done. Thank ya, friend Wyatt snatched up a spoon and stirred the drink.

No problem. Just lemme know whats going on when you ca-... as he span to pass Aston the beverage he had prepared, his sentence trailed off to an incomplete end. Aston was gone. Rook frowned; he hadnt heard the door open or close. ...Aston?... He peered around, placing the herb mix down upon the counter ...buddy? His calls fell dead in the air, receiving no response. Hed vanished. Wyatts heart sunk. His concern rose as he realised there was now a good chance he wouldnt see Aston again, either. Life was starting to tumble into a downwards spiral, in a few days, the threads of fate had somehow erased nearly everything hed bonded with over the past decade. With Vince, Aris and Aston out of his life, he had no one to collaborate with when on a job, and perhaps even more depressingly, absolutely no social life. The bed looked inviting. Perhaps if he rested for long enough, he could collect some thoughts and work out where to go from here. He fell onto the mattress, bouncing a little on the springy surface. His ribs blasted forth a jolt of searing pain which made him curse, but it passed quickly. He shot a paranoid glance at the hole the vampire syse had slipped into; it would be back, when he least expected it... The room began to fade to black as his eyelids drooped. He convinced himself that he just needed rest, and then, everything would be great again. The heavy knocking at the door sent a cruel wave of dj vu through the man. He snarled, leaping out of bed and marching towards it. Farls sake! he shouted up at the ceiling, hoping the gods would hear him Are ya bored up there?! Do ya have nothin better to do than to throw crap at me all day?! He stomped to the door and yanked it open. It creaked on its hinges, nearly flying off them. There was nothing there. Wyatt blinked, poking his head through the door and peering in all directions. A faint flapping caught his attention. A note had been pinned to the door, and was waving slightly in the dawns air. He reached out and plucked the note down, reading the single sentence that was scrawled across it THEY CALL TO US... It was reminiscent of the war recruitment propaganda that would occasionally be plastered all over the smaller outskirt towns. The text was printed in a mechanical manner, not hand written. He decided to go with his original instinct, assuming it to be a poster for the Wolfbane Pact before screwing it up into a ball and closing his door again. As he approached his bed, he practically anticipated the second knock at his door. The powers that be had successfully driven him into a state in which he expected obscure occurrences. Again, he forced the door open, glaring out. Predictably, no one was there. Annoyingly, two more of the notes had appeared on his door, both displaying the same sentence as before. He angrily tore them off and shredded them into pieces, shouting to the forests edge PISS OFF! LEAVE ME ALONE! he called I am not doing this anymore! Its over! in his rage, he perhaps closed the door a little bit too hard. The entire house creaked, ominously. He froze in horror, worried the entire shack would come down on him. It remained stable, fortunately. Rooks sigh of relief was cut short by a third, much louder knock at the door. Wyatt turned and opened it, literally just a second after hed heard the noise. Still no one was there, and no one could have been there.

This time the door was completely caked in notes. It resembled a layer of papery fur, fur that conveyed unsettling messages through the medium of the written word. Come to think of it, most fur didnt do that. That was a terrible metaphor, Wyatt thought to himself. Clearly someone wanted him to do something, someone unnatural. His brain submitted. He had no clue. He dropped the note on the floor, rubbing his eyes. The note landed face down, and for the first time, Wyatt spied a second sentence drawn onto the flipside. AND WE CALL BACK There was an obvious emphasis on the WE which made Wyatt think for a brief moment. It was vague, but it sparked something within Wyatts mind which caused him to grab his fathers sleeper hide cloak from a hook near the door and walk outside, locking the door behind him. Aston had called to him. He would answer, appropriately. Lauren lived about five minutes away, just off from the towns centre where the wranglers were currently held up. The dull pain from his scar was horrible, but it was not enough to deter him from his goal. His cloak dragged along the ground behind him, flicking droplets of condensation from the damp blades of grass below. The mist was all consuming, but the brilliant glows of deep forest kyne penetrated the veil, a fantastic array of colours creeping through faintly like the dying light of a candle. The village was still as silent as a graveyard, despite the armoured shadows of Wranglers dashing around, barely visible through the obscuring cloud. Their movements had become more erratic, more alert. There were so many of them, too many for this to be a small job. Rook tried to keep on walking, internally slapping the curiosity that was pecking at his mind. However, as the tranquillity was torn asunder by the commanding calls of at least ten wranglers, he froze on the spot, turning and creeping towards the towns centre. The shouts grew louder. They were mostly generic arrest shouts: Get on the floor, hands on your head, etc, but you would get the odd threat and insult from the swarm of tall-collared elite soldiers that peppered the village. Wyatt peaked around a corner, straight into the kill box the wranglers had created with their perimeter. A man had emerged from his house, and was standing motionless in the centre of the square. The mist swirled around him, unnaturally. HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM! DONT MOVE! DO NOT MOVE! the wranglers were barking, their muffled voices practically drowning each others out. A few curtains shifted in adjacent houses, residents peering out to locate the source of this early morning disruption of the peace. As a small swirl of mist cleared before the lone strangers face, Wyatt inhaled slightly in surprise ...Fred?... he whispered to himself. There was no mistaking it; it was Fred, the village maniac. Mayas words pecked at the back of his mind; the necroley sends its hosts insane, shed said. Maybe this is what had happened to Fred? If this was the case, the man was an enormous threat. The necroborn are the single most deadly incarnation of the gods power, supposedly able to take life with a single glance. Wyatt decided hed let the professionals handle this one, shrinking into a concealed position behind a tower of stacked crates. Still the mad man stood there, his eyes unblinkingly staring at nothing in particular, straight ahead of him.

Wyatts heart pounded in response to a hand grasping his shoulder. He turned his head. The wrangler guardian of the clinic was standing over him, her crossbow pointed at Freds veiled silhouette as well This is no place for a citizen. She said Go home. Now. Wyatt gulped, nodding. Just as he was about to get up, a shimmer of dark energy pulsed outwards from Freds outstretched hand. The wrangler holding Wyatt fell to the floor, dead. Wyatt squealed, tucking himself firmly into his hiding place. OPEN FIRE! FIRE! the sounds of bolts being launched and pistols being fired decimated what little ambience there was left. Wyatt dared not look, cowering behind the boxes and staring with fear at the deceased leyborn hunter. More pulses of energy hummed through the town, followed by the sounds of the armoured wranglers bodies hitting the floor. A few bullets spat through the crates Wyatt was taking refuge behind, narrowly missing his ears. KILL HIM! Cover! Amateurs! Cease fire! Take cover! a sharp, female voice called out Twelve, Fourteen, cover me Yes maam! The weapons stopped firing, and Wyatt conjured up the bravery to take a peek through the holes that the bullets had made. Fred was still standing there, rotating around swiftly, trying to locate his targets in the mist. The wranglers had concealed themselves expertly, and Fred clearly didnt like it. Wyatt was amazed he was still standing; bolts and bullet wounds literally covered his chest, but somehow he was resisting the reaper himself to prolong his battle. The clinking of spurred heels sounded out from the pale shroud of mist. Fred raised his palm towards the sound, waiting for his target to reveal itself. A moment later, two bolas projectiles span through the air, binding his legs together and his arm to his neck. He hit the ground, struggling against the binds. The clinking grew closer, like drums to signify the end of a war. The large boots appeared first, stepping from the mist, followed by some tight leather trousers, a long black trench coat and a heavy, but low cut armoured breastplate. Her belly and part of her cleavage were exposed, making the point of the armour a little obsolete. A large black hat appeared next, sat upon a head of blood red hair, much more vibrant and unnatural than Ariss. Her ruby lips curled into a sneer, her illustrious eyes narrowed into a feline hunger. She practically prowled up to her incapacitated target, placing her heel upon Freds neck. He struggled, freeing one of his hands and raising it towards the woman. There was a horrible crack as she broke his neck with a stomp and a twist. She spat on the floor before whipping out a state of the art revolver handgun and firing three rounds into Freds already lifeless face. The power of the bullets left nothing but an unrecognisable mess. She span the gun on her finger, sliding back into the holster in one talented, well practiced move. Collect the dead. File Frederick Casey as terminated. Her voice had an even stronger accent than Wyatts on his angriest days. She turned her head, staring right into the hole Wyatt was peering through. He made a noise which could only be described as a meep, sinking down and praying she hadnt caught him staring at her generously exposed chest. Yall safe now, pumpkin... Yall can stop wallowing in ya own cowardice and shelter yourself... Well, she was a bitch, clearly.

She was probably not worth Rooks time. He stood up, dusting himself down and trying to act as casually as possible. He nervously waved to the intimidating woman. She tapped her hat in retaliation. Wyatt coughed in an awkward attempt to mask his embarrassment, continuing his journey to Laurens house, stepping over the wranglers corpses in the most dignity reserving way he could (usually by saying sorry to their bodies.) This was it. He was officially sick of Fern. He wouldnt even be able to make jokes about Fred anymore because society would have probably considered it to be in bad taste. He had no friends, no money, just a crazy voice in his head, a really really swift post man and a few fancy weapons. There was no better time than now to move away; away from the sleepers, away from the bloodmoons, away from the people who recognised him and took extra care of their coin purses in his presence. He would start a new life, with unsuspecting individuals, and he would build his crime career from the bottom up. He would do this last favour, purely out of love for Aston, and then he would pack up his things and just start walking in whatever direction felt natural. Maybe West; West was Wyatts favourite because it began with W, just like his name did. His mind tried to drown out the images of what hed just witnessed with cute, culturally acceptable things, like hopflops and quish. In the end it didnt work, and alls he had lurking in his imagination was the same horrid scene with a few bits of local wildlife thrown in for good measure. The horrendous pictures ran rampant through his head for the next few minutes as he painfully dragged himself to Astons house, the mist finally starting to clear with the suns arrival. Shafts of light thrust their way through the veil like righteous spears, extinguishing its dominance gradually over time. Wyatt approached the cottages door. It was larger than his, with two floors and two bedrooms. Aston had been better off than Wyatt nearly all his life, choosing to settle down relatively quickly with a woman he not only loved, but could also make use of the shared household income she helped provide. The two of them had been saving up for a fairly lavishing wedding ceremony which was going to take place in Sanctus cathedral. Wyatt was going to be the best man, but that dream was one conjured over two years ago. Aston had proposed after theyd been together for five years, and the two years following that, theyd simply been accumulating funds to have that one special day. With all this in mind, it made no sense for Aston to bale now. Perhaps Lauren would offer some enlightenment. Thrice Wyatt knocked upon the door, before taking a step back and waiting, patiently. It would be typical if she wasnt in. Fortunately this didnt seem to be the case, since the sound of footsteps within was growing louder. The doors lock clicked, and it opened, just enough for the woman inside to peak out. Her eyes were damp and red. She looked pale, and the hand gripping the doors edge was trembling slightly. Oh... she said ...Rook... Wyatt frowned and leant a little closer. Being Astons other half, Wyatt had become fairly accustomed to Laurens presence. While the two of them had never really spent any time alone together, Rook would have happily considered her a friend, even more so now she was effectively the only one he had left. Whats wrong? Rook asked, as tenderly as he could ...You....You didnt hear?... she sniffed What... uh... What do you want?... Sorry... If that sounds rude but... Im not exactly in a guest receiving mood... I have a message from Aston. Rook said, simply. Lauren slowly pulled the door open and waved inside I thought he might have gone to you... Come in.

Thanks Rook said as he trotted into the warm, fire lit cabin. It was neatly furnished with a number of comfy chairs and hide rugs. Some simple tapestries were on the larger back wall, depicting nothing symbolic, just geometric patterns. A single mounted jurnice head was above the fire place, which had crackled down into smouldering embers. The fire had been roaring all night, by the looks of it. Wyatt surveyed the rest of the room quickly, spotting a few tear stained pillows and cloths and a discernible print upon the larger sofa. Youve been up all night... Rook said, turning his head as Lauren walked past him. Can I ask what happened? Give me the message... Lauren said, defusing the question with a subtle blend of fear and anger. Wyatt would not be taunting this sleeping beast. He obeyed, as best he could. Well... Aston told me to tell you that uh... He went looking for a sleeper... and he neglected to tell you... so... he wanted me to relay that to you... Lauren whirled about, projecting a hateful glare straight into Wyatts very soul You could have told me earlier! Now its too late! Wyatt raised his hands in a sort of involuntary submission Woa, woa! I couldnt have. Aston only told me this like... Ten minutes ago. WHAT?! Lauren yelled, stomping closer. Wyatts fight or flight instinct was clubbing away at the back of his head. He fought it away, as running from the house screaming wouldnt help matters, and neither would punching her in the face Im just telling you what I know! He also said he loves you and hes uh... sorry? He grasped at the opportunity that presented itself in the form of the woman before him backing down slightly Listen, could you just... tell me whats going on here? Lauren covered her eyes and began to cry, waving her free hand over to a note that was resting on the sofa. Wyatt hesitated. After a short pause, he weaved over to it, his heart sinking as he recognised the envelopes style. On Rime, death by means other than old age was incredibly common. For many years, figures of authority had found inventive ways to deliver the morbid news of a close relative or friends passing. Traditionally, a letter would be hand delivered to the spouse, partner or next of kin. The letter would be black with gold trimmings. To the humans and vermus, to the faithful and non-faithful, these letters were known as Nox Notes, Nox being the old god of death and progenitor of the necroley. This letter was black, and it had golden trimmings; it was easily recognisable, despite its mangled appearance. Rook sat down and scooped the letter up, reading the velvety text.

Dear Miss Constance It is with great regret that we are writing to inform you of the recent and tragic death of your partner, Aston Geralt. His remains were discovered alongside the bodies of five others late afternoon on the Twelfth of Blossom, Lumina by Wolfbane Pact guards on a fenrye search. We suspect that the culprit was a sleeper, due to the brutality of wounds inflicted. A guidance councillor will be attending Fern on the Twenty Third of Blossom, Lumina, with the sole intent of giving advice to you, and to the others within your village affected by this tragedy. Your partners remains have been collected, and are currently awaiting identification and collection at Sanctus crematorium in the Green District.

With deepest sympathies Kristian Jerimine.

Wyatt finished reading the note, placing it down. The soldiers the letter mentioned must have been the ones Aris had diverted from the carriages side. Well... this has to be some mistake... I mean... I spoke to him... just minutes ago he turned to Lauren who looked hopelessly lost and depressed He... acted like hed never see you again... He said hes sorry... and that he loves you... Im... afraid I cant really give you more than that... Lauren sniffed again, repeatedly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand Its better than nothing...but I dont know what to believe anymore... Sorry, Rook... I dont really know you enough to buy this... Wyatt nodded understandingly before clicking his fingers Oh, he mentioned something else. He said to... uh... check in the pockets of... a coat you aint fond of. He said youd know what it meant Lauren stared silently for a moment before disappearing up a flight of stairs. The sound of her rummaging through a wardrobe followed. She appeared again shortly afterwards, a messy brown womans fur coat in her arms. Lauren draped the coat over the sofas back and began to search the pockets I complained about this coat... so many times. I kept saying I was going to get rid of it... but Aston always said I wouldnt. He knows I cling onto things like this... He knew Id never wear it, but never get rid of it... She gasped as her fingers closed around something soft and hollow. It was a tiny decorative box. She flicked the lid open to reveal a prettily engraved golden ring. Her eyes welled up again ...Its a wedding ring... Aston never gave me one when he proposed... He must have been saving up for this one... Do you believe me now? Wyatt asked, perhaps a little insensitively ...Why would Aston fake his own death... did he want to get away from me?... I have no clue... maybe hell be back some day?... I mean its not...- His sentence splintered away into a grunt of pain, the familiar voice shouting into his mind, even louder than usual False hope is the worst thing you can offer! Do not leave your marks in the shadowed illusion of their own fabricated dreams that you helped sow! False hope leads to incomplete goals! It leads to waiting! You will create a vicious circle which will consume everything if left unchecked! Never, EVER install false hope. Correct your error, Wyatt! Rook?... Are... You ok? I lost you for a moment there.... Wyatt shook his head, his vision was blurred slightly and it took a few seconds for him to regain his composure Im fine... he gave Lauren a pained look ...Im sorry... Lauren but... Astons dead... He just... sent me this message somehow... so that you could know his last thoughts were of you... Hes sorry for leaving you like this, and wherever he is now, he loves you. Wyatt shut his mouth, turning towards the door, leaving Lauren in silence. He pulled the handle and stepped outside Hell rest easy, knowing you got his message. Good bye. He yanked the door shut, tears forming in his own eyes, blinding him slightly as he travelled back to his home. Every time the voice spoke to him, he felt a little closer to it, and felt a little closer to his goal. It helped him understand, helped him realise the significance of the phantoms hed been seeing. The ghosts were real, and they had a reason to linger. The voices and the dreams seemed to be suggesting it was his duty to aid them in their passing. There was just one problem; Aston was a dear friend, strangers were just strangers. Wyatt did not care for strangers, and unless someone else he loved died and came to him with a very personal request, hed done his share of ghost whispering. His thoughts trailed back to the minor details of

Astons appearance. Hed stated he was under oath not to reveal anything. Now Wyatt thought more carefully about the way he had acted, it would (somehow) make sense to assume he was indeed a ghost, still aware, still capable of communication. Hed said how his day had been terrible, and responded to the question Are you leaving with Something like that Was this it then? Had his job been completed? Was Aston free? Or was he just waiting somewhere else? For the first time he wanted the voice to return, to clear up this mystery once and for all. His irritation bubbled within him, the complexity of the situation proving enough brain teasing to last a life time. He muttered and mumbled to himself all the way back to his own house turning a few early birds heads. Perhaps this is how Fred started out; incoherently babbling to himself in front of villagers. He unlocked his cabin and walked inside, ignoring the letters that were still pasted on his door and instantly heading over to his fathers box of belongings. He was just going to take what he needed; weapons, a few supplies, the mysterious key which he couldnt help but wonder the importance of, some change of clothes, a few toiletries, the basic assortment of tools, rations and appliances one requires when going on a spontaneous adventure. He packed the things into a case hed hauled out from under his bed and strapped the weapons to his new utility belt. Their ivoryon forms chimed for a few seconds as he sheathed and holstered them. Once the case was full, he slammed it shut and locked the latches in place. He lifted it up. It was heavy but it wasnt anything he couldnt handle for a fair few miles a day. Ah... Youre already packed. A cold, familiar voice spoke behind him. Wyatt went rigid. This time, that same voice hadnt spoken from inside his mind. He slowly shuffled around, the face that had been in his nightmares for so many years appearing for the first time in the waking world in a decade. ...You... Wyatt growled Thats right the spectre said, spreading his arms apart Daddys home.

Chapter Five And We Call Back

Ten Nights Ago Surprised? Afraid? Perhaps just plain confused. I predict a cocktail of the three to be coursing its way through your body as the apparition materialises before you. I will wait for this memory to pass before I can answer the questions that have been hounding you these past days. My name is Zachery Rook, as you no doubt already suspected. For the last few months, I have been teaching you how to proceed towards your destination. I have implanted dreams within your mind that will react to stimuli in your life. The pace at which you learn, of which these dreams commune with you, will vary depending on your actions and the consequences of those actions. This is just but another fraction of the full message which will reach you in finality soon. These words you hear now are pre-programmed to deploy upon my arrival into your abode, and I am mentally preparing you for bombshell I am sadly about to drop. Youve listened to me for these past few days Wyatt, and it has been productive. When your life was at stake, I directed you to press on, when you planted false hope into someone who did not deserve the punishment, I let you know of your mistake, so you could correct it. I am not your enemy; I am your watcher, your protector, and your nurturer. Such is a fathers duty. Forget everything you know about sacrifice. Forget everything you know about life and death. You are a blank canvas, and you need only remember the lessons of your dreams. The Pale is a realm sustained by incomprehensible powers, powers which can be used to alter the way your resting mind thinks, weaving through your subconscious and leaving messages, images, commands and plans. Dreams can be used to manipulate targets via their barely noticed thoughts. Designated stimuli will somehow remind you of a lost thought, nudging your actions in a certain direction. Sometimes when you feel dj vu, you experience what appears to be a familiar situation. Its possible the situation was predicted, and perceived while you sleep, and your dreams railroaded you onto a track without you even realising. They are so innocent, and yet psychologists can extract the details from them and come up with an analysis. We control dreams in a much more literal sense. The way you experience dreams, through vivid sound even as you walk the waking world, comes from your connection to the Pale itself. This is not something a normal man is capable of... It is the ley that channels through you that grants you your powers. It acts as a conduit through which The Pale can reach you, and you can see that which others cannot. The Pale was created by the gods Nox and Glace, the masters of the cryoley and the necroley... You are one of the handful of people that shares both of these ley. Do not panic yet, Wyatt. The necroley will not claim you as it claimed the poor soul you saw earlier... Just as long as you follow my orders and do not stray from your duty. Your scepticism will only make your conversion slightly difficult. To change your faith from one to another in just a few days is not something most people are capable of, but you will have to argue against once the truth of Rimes forgotten history is presented to you, in all of its ancient glory. Awake from your trance now, and speak with me. We have much to discuss

Present Day Wyatt pinched himself, his luggage thudding to the floor; he wasnt dreaming. His imaginary childhood nemesis had appeared before him, and was addressing him in the voice that had plagued his mind for months. He stood there, dressed in the outfit of a private ranking soldier of the Wolfbane Pact, his grey eyes meeting, Rooks through the waves of his brown fringe. He wore a tabard which was torn in places and his armour had a few dents here and there, but other than that, he didnt look like someone who had trawled through the afterlife to reach him. You... Wyatt said, again ...Youre... his eyes darted around Youre not real... Why shouldnt I be real? the ghost replied, simply Youve come this far now, Wyatt. Are you really in a state in which you can dismiss me as just another fantasy? An illusion? Or perhaps you can get a grip and accept the machinations of reality. Wyatt threw his arms in the air and shouted FOR CRYIN OUT LOUD! STOP TALKIN LIKE A HISTORY BOOK! he pointed I din get no fancy education! If ya gonna speak to me, speak to me proper like, like I do! ...You have no idea how ironic that statement is Zachery said, with a very subtle smirk I dont even know what ironic is! Most people dont. Its a hard word Zachery smiled awkwardly But uh, the important thing is you tried, son. He did a very forced nod. Im proud of you!? Youre not my father! My pa died years a-... ah crap, youre a ghost... this argument isnt gonna work... Wyatt slumped down onto the end of his bed, sitting there, collecting his scattered thoughts that had tried to retreat from the normally terrifying apparition. Zachery rubbed the back of his head, grinning a little Tell me when youre ready. No rush. Stop talkin! Just stay silent for a few minutes while I work out a reason to accept this Zachery fell silent, pacing around the cabin, his feet not making a sound against the wooden boards beneath them. Wyatt came to a conclusion: It was a man in a disguise! He quickly scooped up his pillow and hurled it at Zachery. It past straight through him, making him turn briefly translucent before his form returned to normality. Zachery looked at the pillow, then at Wyatt. ...I suppose I deserved that. He waved to the pillow not that it... you know... did much damage... Wyatt groaned and buried his head in his blanket. Wake up! Wake up! He shouted to himself. When I look up, youd better be gone! There was no reply. Wyatt slowly raised his head and peered around the room. Zachery had vanished. Wyatt straightened up and scanned the cabin more closely. So! the voice bellowed, right behind Wyatt. He whelped and tumbled off the bed which his ethereal father had been sat on just inches behind his back. Im not really good at the whole father thing. I never really had a chance but its my understanding that Im meant to act as a sort of mentor! The way he spoke was a little unnatural and nervous, as if he was trying to fill a silence that would inevitably build stress and tension between them. You know all about... the birds and the bees, and such, yeah? Im twenty four years old, you asshat! Wyatt snapped while clambering to his feet Something tells me youre not here to teach me about the facts of life! You saw right through me... Zachery beamed and pointed to himself That was a little ghost joke for you, there. You can tell all of your friends how funny your old man is

STOP IT! Wyatt shouted at the top of his voice. Stop actin so farl damn casual! Why dont ya just speak ya piece already? Its not like I dont know why ya here... Ya stupid brain dreams have been houndin me! Goin on about how ya gonna erase me! Take me away from my own life! I betcha just wanna kill me dead or some crap! Well go ahead! Aint like I care no more! Im still not gonna be your son, even if we do share a common deadness! Im not here to kill you... He gestured to himself I couldnt even if I wanted to. Just calm down and let me explain. You calm down! Zachery blinked But... I am calm... Are you sure youre not just stressed and resorting to repeating everything I say back at me in the form of very obscure verbal abuse? Youre very obscure verbal abuse! Wyatt screamed, lobbing his second pillow through the ghosts head. Zachery rolled his eyes and exhaled loudly, leaning back against the wall the bed was against For someone who claims youre twenty four years of age... you sure dont act like it... Wyatt disproved this theory by sulking like a child and punching his bed. It took him around three minutes to finally slip into a more accepting mindset and turn his gaze back towards the figure that was still sat on his mattress ...What do you want?... Wyatt said, calmly, darkly, his eye twitching with the contained outburst. As you just heard, Im here to guide you on the next stage of your induction. Ive been preparing you for this with the triggered dream memories so that youd be more willing to cooperate. Its a lot to take in, so Ive been trying to give it to you piece by piece. Theres still a lot more information to come which will do so when you are ready for it. For now, I assume you have a lot of questions, and I am here to answer them. Wyatt performed a reluctant nod, trotting around the room to burn off some of the energy hed built up An induction...? An introduction. A welcome into a new order. And that is?... Wyatt mumbled The Palecallers. Zachery rose to his feet The Palecallers are an ancient group, dedicated to the preservation and maintenance of the realm known as The Pale. Whats this Pale thing you keep mentioning? In the messages... now... The Pale is the plain of reality that exists between death, and the afterlife. It is where ghosts manifest and are sustained until their final tasks are completed, their unfinished business. Like with Aston earlier, ghosts only spawn when they still have something vital to live for. Aston wanted to say good bye to his fianc. As a Palecaller, it is your duty to fulfil the wishes of spirits, and to banish those which have forgotten them. Youll learn more about that once we reach Palthgar. Wyatt grunted. This short speech had only created more questions. How do you know what happened to Aston?... Zachery rubbed his left eye, assumedly to banish an itch For a short while, Aston was dwelling in the same realm as I was. I met with him after hed perished and I directed him to you. That is part of my job. He said he was... under oath? Thats correct. I made him swear not to tell you the major details. This small mission you undertook to free him had to be carried out without extensive knowledge of the situation itself. It was a test, but more importantly, it was a lesson. You taught it to yourself, rather than allowing me

or him to do it for you, thus making it all the more valuable. Wyatt hesitated for a moment before asking a question he was fairly sure he knew the answer to ...Will I ever see him again? Zacherys expression dropped slightly ...After a spirit has left The Pale, Im afraid even I cannot begin to fathom what becomes of them. The ultimate incarnation of death will always be a mystery. Perhaps when you die, Wyatt, youll see him again, but I cannot grant you any evidence to suggest even a hint of truth to this. Wyatt boiled this down into the short answer. So... No, then? In a word, thats correct... ...Whats Palthgar? Wyatt queried after a short, pained pause. Palthgar is the fortress of the Palecallers. Its upon the highest peak in Sovreignous, The Ivory Reach. Once we are there, we can-... Wyatt interrupted Woa, woa!? The Ivory Reach? Thats like... On the other side of the continent! I cant go there! You expect me to walk, how many miles?! Many. And many more once you are there. Im afraid being a Palecaller is not for the lazy. We will however be acquiring a carriage for the journey. Its all set up. Wyatt groaned and held his head Why does everything in my life feel like its on some sort of timeline? How did you predict all those things that would happen to me? How did you know Id cut my hand on the dagger? How did you predict every little thing? Im not sure youd believe me if I told you. Perhaps I should leave that question for someone more suitable to answer it. Wyatt was too exhausted to argue with that Right... ok so... What is a.. Palecaller? As I said, they are charged by higher powers to maintain and support The Pale and all those that reside within it. Palecallers are leyborn, but they are more than just that... As you know, a leyborn is created when a child is born over one of the many leylines that wrap around the globe... A child born on a pyroline becomes a pyroborn, a child born on a bioline becomes a bioborn, like your doctor friend... however Zachery cleared his throat A Palecaller is a mixture of two ley types. You were born on an extremely rare point where two leylines cross over one another He pointed at Wyatt Within you, the ley of ice and the ley of death is present; you are neither cryoborn, nor necroborn. You are a Palecaller. ...So a Palecaller is not just... a title given by joining some folk... Its actually like... what you are?... Thats correct. Im sure someone at Palthgar can explain it better than I can. I should warn you... You already know the dangers of the necroley... You saw what happened to the man outside... but the cryoley should cancel out the maddening effects... most of them at least... It probably wont surprise you to know that many of the voices in your head are indeed the result of minor insanity... Zachery gave a reassuring smile But I have faith in you. Right... Wyatt frowned. Wouldnt it have been easier to tell me this sooner?... I could have grown with it... Accepted it... Zachery stood up, moving towards the windows and peering out Im afraid that would have been impossible. What was the main difference between my appearances to you in your childhood, and the one you are experiencing currently? ...Well... Wyatt thought ...I suppose... You never spoke before... The ghost whirled and snapped his fingers Exactly. A Palecallers power is derived from death itself. As I told you in your dream, every time you slip towards your grave, your power will grow. When you were shot the other day, death was

clawing at your heels. This brought you strength. You feed from it in a way no one without your ley can. Wyatt gasped So youre saying I cant die?! he bellowed, enthusiastically. Zachery shook his head and waved his arms Woa woa! No! Im not saying that. You can die just like any other folk. However, when you DO recover from a near death experience, you will return stronger than before. The others can teach you more of this. And you predicted Id get shot? You just waited around for it to happen? For all those years? Watching me? I will admit, I did show up sometimes just to check on you... I wanted to watch you grow up... and I wanted to watch you become what you will become... Wyatt gasped a little as he realised something ...T...Thats your unfinished business?... Thats why youre... here? Zachery chuckled a little, taking a few steps forward towards his son Yes... but theres more to it than that... Im not a Palecaller... but I do work for them... Wyatt blinked What do you mean?... A few shadows darted past the windows, causing Zachery to flick his gaze back to them again. Wyatt didnt notice. ...Well... Zachery continued Sometimes... Every few decades, the Palecallers need to recruit more members, to stop their order from dying out. They recruit some of the spirits they are trying to help... sometimes they recruit men and women while they still live... Again he turned to Rook I was working for the Palecallers before I even met your mother... She told you how I designed and placed the house? I made sure that house was directly over the leyline cross... and before I left... I made her swear she would birth you within that house. Wyatt fell silent. ...I know it sounds bad, son... ...Im... the production... of an order?... Literally? This wasnt luck, or destiny... you farling BUILT ME!? Zachery glared a little, but it really was only a little. He didnt have much in the way of justification You have no idea what I sacrificed for you... he grumbled Yes, I controlled your birth... and yes, I have had input into your life to shape you into what you must become, but never for a moment have I not looked after you. I signed up for the war and I died for your sake. Its the only way I could have shown you your purpose through blunt example... You could have kept living... Wyatt growled Instead of... going off and topping yourself the moment ma was pregnant. I could have believed ya, even if ya werent a ghost! It was more complicated than that! he sighed I have a duty... and I cant fulfil it while Im alive... Wyatt cooled down a little before asking ...So what was in it for you?... What was worth your death?... Zachery pointed, half heartedly ...You were... he explained They predicted what would happen to you... I was never meant to die but... They told me that the only way to save you would have been through The Pale... Grieves and his lackies... They would have killed you, Wyatt. It was my words that let you fight through them... Without my guidance, you would have not incapacitated the three henchmen. Vincent would have arrived, but would have been unable to deal with all four of them at once. Those few seconds, in the early hours of this morning, was the most integral part of my life, and the defining moment of yours...

Wyatt slumped down on the end of his bed, speechless. Thanks to the dreams and events over the last few days, however, he had to admit, the blow had been softened. Evidently his father knew what he was doing. ...Are there others?... Like me? Right now? Zachery nodded There are six of you, all going through the same process as you are. Im in charge of two of you, actually, not just you. I will admit however, you are my favourite. Wyatt snorted So youre cheating on me with another Palecaller? He hasnt had his near death experience yet, so I cant talk to him. We will however be picking him up on the way to Palthgar. Two other handlers will be doing the same with the remaining four candidates. He paused before sighing Son, I need to warn you, as part of my contract... The induction into the Palecallers is extremely dangerous... and its claimed the lives of the majority of those that have tried it. He quickly tried to bounce back from this But, Im only telling you that because Im obliged to. I personally believe that you have more power within you than most. You will succeed where many others have not. Wyatt gave an uneasy look ...I dont like the sound of that... I know, and I understand that. Again, I am obliged to say that this is still your choice. You are allowed to walk away from this decision, granted you swear it all to secrecy, but the Wranglers will find you... they always do... its a worse life than the potentially short one the Palecallers can grant you. He stepped forward again Its up to you, son... A chance at a life of serving a higher cause, of adventure, of power and of... frankly, quite good fun... or... a guaranteed life of abuse, confinement and torture... ...Maybe the wranglers wont find me?... Zachery glanced to the windows ...I doubt that. He said, coldly Do the wise thing and come with me... he smiled, weakly Ive been waiting for it for some time. Come on, you owe me Wyatt smirked a little. He believed in repaying debts, but this was his life at stake. ...Heh... I dunno... If you have any more questions, Ill answer them. I can assure you, whatever you ask, Ill be honest unless its not your time to learn it yet. If you have any doubts about this endeavour, let me clear them up for you. It was difficult to be sceptical with the evidence hed been presented with. His urge to make accusations of nonsense and lies had been almost completely defused. Now it was just a matter of juggling through the pros and cons without the no doubt biased words of his deceased father. If Im a leyborn... does that mean I can do... he waved his hands through the air, making some juvenile whooshing noises. That? With the appropriate training, yes. Ley casts usually initially crop up in times of fear and anger. You froze your own body when you felt hopeless, and it saved you. Rest assured, many of the cryoley abilities are much more interesting than that. What about what Fred did?... I mean I aint even sure I want that power. He just... waved his hand and folk started dropping like flies... The Palecallers frown upon direct use of the necroley for anything other than aiding The Pale. While you may possess that particular ability in some dormant form, you will receive no instruction on how to develop it. He tapped his foot, silently Think of Palthgar like a school, for now. They will teach you everything you need to know before you are ready to be deployed. Theres also theory tests and mental exercises to ensure you are prepared for everything The Pale has to throw at you. Theres even a few lore classes so you know where the Palecallers have cropped up in history before

now He chuckled I dont want to sound like an advert, but its incredible there. The Pale Market... he stopped, before tapping his nose Ill let you find out yourself. He clapped his hands So! Are you in? Youve got a whole journey to change your mind on. Cmoooooon! he grinned, eagerly. Wyatt stared with a fairly neutral expression You said The Palecallers have appeared in history? Of course. The Palecallers duty expands beyond just helping those who have died. If the Pale is flooded with souls of the deceased, the Callers have to do something about that, usually be stopping the flood at its source. Youve read about the Necroley War, about...three hundred years ago? Orchestrated by a man so terrible, people use his name as a curse word, Morgarth Farl. Wyatt nodded. Hed indeed read about it, as had most people. It was one of the reasons Sovreignous was so brutally under-populated. Well, a Palecaller called Gray Koramas killed Morgarth Farl in the final battle of the war. The Necroley War was devastating to both the physical realm, and The Pale. Those who die in battle often have accepted their fate before they enter the fray, so their spirit does not linger, however, the lives of all the civilians cut short resulted in a torrent of restless ghosts appearing all over the continent. The Palecallers had to work incredibly quickly and tirelessly to clear up this mess...They grew sloppy in their efforts, and the Wranglers found out about them... Zachery spat an ethereal ball of saliva on the floor. It vanished through the wooden boards. Wranglers... back then they killed every and all leyborn they found... They slaughtered most of the Palecallers... including Gray Koramas... The order seemed to fade from existence... The historians assume the Palecallers to be no more, but, they are still out there, operating in the shadows... he gave Wyatt a serious look The wranglers will not grant you mercy... They know The Palecallers contain the necroley... and if they find out they still exist, they will likely attempt a siege on the fortress of Palthgar. This is why you must keep the information with you into the grave. Wyatt nodded I understand... Again, Im sorry about the information overload. Is there anything else you want to know? Bear in mind well have plenty of time to discuss things during the trip and youll learn anything you didnt once you step through those ebon gates. Anything else? Have you made up your mind? Wyatt hesitated. He rose to his feet slowly; in a play or movie, it would have been the time where inspirational music played Yes... he said, turning to his father I have... he pointed upwards to the ceiling, dramatically and said, loudly I will hide in a small hole and wait for everyone to leave me alone! Zachery nearly knocked himself out with the force of the palm slapping to his face. How can that be your answer!? Wyatt spoke very slowly and condescendingly I dont want to die. Your route is probably going to kill me, and if I dont take it, the alternative is the Wranglers kill me. I plan to dig myself a third route, and live in it! Maybe in Glascan! Everyone goes to Glascan when they are on the run! Wyatt, this is your calling... You were born for this! You of all people should know that dying is probably kinda unpleasant! I dont want to die! Why would anyone take this risk when you havent even told me the good side? What do I gain from this? For farls sake, Im a thief. Dont you think Id need a little bit of material wealth or financial encouragement?! You want the motivation? Fine... I can see Im going to have to appeal to your selfish side. How much do you think those daggers are worth? How much would you say that pistol would go for in a citys blacksmith? he pointed at the weapons on Wyatts belt. He shrugged Two thousand sancs?...

Try eight thousand. Each. Those are the kind of things The Palecallers create. They are not poor, and while youre on assignments, you will have opportunities to spend some of your wealth on whatever you like, as long as your identity remains a secret. Why does a secret organisation devoted to preserving the spirit realm have lots of money?... Wyatt asked, folding his arms. Zachery mimicked this movement as he replied Everyone needs to eat, and what is life without a little indulgence sometimes? Besides that, some people dont give up information easily. An abundance of disposable income is handy for issuing bribes to the tight lipped. The Palecallers understand that this isnt a lifestyle to be taken lightly. As much as wed appreciate selflessness, Palecallers are far too rare for Palthgar to be picky about who it takes on. So they try to appeal to a broad range... Does this make sense? Wyatt nodded. It did make sense, annoyingly. That hole in the ground had been starting to feel so appealing. There was still that niggling chance that he could die, of course, but he had a reason to go for it now. He let out a drawn out sigh, looking around his dreary little shack. ...Will I have a nicer place to live? Palthgar is over seven hundred years old but its cosy enough, considering its sat on the peak of a mountain... High walls, impenetrable gates... sometimes you get looters and scavengers who think the place is deserted but they never breach it. He gave a slight, satisfied shrug Its nice. Its better than this place. Youll get your own room and possibly a servant... Wyatts eyes lit up I get my own servant?! Well... I mean Im not really sure how the Palthgar employment works but Im pretty sure they have a few guys around to clean up and such... To cook as well... sworn to secrecy and probably confined to the fortress for the rest of their lives... he frowned at his own words You know, when I say it like that, it actually sounds a little sinister. Dont worry about them; they are happy. He rubbed his hands together a little Wyatt, youre my son, and I wouldnt send you to somewhere unless I knew youd be happy there. The other callers said that youd probably be stubborn because they remember how stubborn I was, but I came through and... You died... Wyatt interjected They killed you... Kinda... Son, listen to- And stop calling me that. Im not exactly there yet... Zachery sighed Wyatt, what do you want me to say that will make you take this risk? Wyatt pondered on this, trying to think of something that could possibly be worth a chance of death ...Are there girls? he said, not even sheepishly. Zachery gave a look of disgusted disbelief Really?... Really, Wyatt? Hey! Youre taking me away from my life and in my life, I hook up with women! I enjoy that part, very much so! So... Whats the low down? Zachery dragged his hand over his face, his eyelids dropping ...Urgh... I dont want to dignify this with an answer... Wyatt shrugged and lay down on his bed Off you hop, then! Id rather die than be abstinent he said, cheerily Say hi to the Palecrawlers! PaleCALLERS... Zachery groaned, objectively ...If its really essential to your life style... he sighed and began to count on his fingers There are... two females around the same age as you who are going through the some processes you currently are... More are already Palecallers... Is that what you wanted to hear? There arent any rules against... consorting with others... this isnt a monkhood.

Hrm... So let me clarify Wyatt cleared his throat Ahem... If I join up with you on your little quest... theres a chance I could die... but if I dont die, Ill get power, wealth, a nice place to live and a satisfied libido? ...Im gonna go with yes, but its really not just about you... Youd be helping people... Zachery answered with a generous chunk of distain. Wyatt ignored this. BUT. If I stay here... or go and live in earlier mentioned hole... I could not die... but the wranglers might catch me... ...Yes... Wyatt stared up at the ceiling, chewing his tongue, idly. He rose up and sat, shrugging and giving a brazen grin Sign me up. Zachery punched the air and beamed in celebration Yes! Excellent. I swear to you this will be the best decision youll ever make One question though... Wyatt raised a finger If you can predict so much, why couldnt you predict what I was going to say?... The ones capable of foresight only grant us the ability to use it to prepare you. Your fate isnt predetermined, its just up to this point, weve nudged it in the right direction. Sometimes were completely wrong, but through subliminal messages and such augmented in your dreams, weve been able to carry out moderately accurate predictions. Upon your acceptance, and your journey, youre very likely to come across more of the sensory stimuli that will trigger further memories of your past dreams. Wyatt looked confused ...How do I put this simply?... Zachery said, straining his mind a little When you come with me, you will pass a number of things, see a number of things. When you train, you will also encounter things. These things can, given they are meant to do as such, act as a stimulus to trigger a memory buried in your subconscious. These memories will act as guides, just as they have up until this point. You will still hear my voice from time to time, despite the fact I spoke the words you will hear a long time ago... He moved his hands to his left, signifying the alternate option If youd said no, and refused to come with me, its likely youd have never seen or experienced the elements with designated to trigger your memories, and you would never hear me again. After a speech like that, that doesnt sound half bad... Wyatt snorted in response. Evidently he hadnt taken in much of what had just been said. Again more shadows darted by the windows, and Zacherys caution became much more evident. Listen to me, Wyatt. We need to get out of here. You need to get out of here. He uttered, urgently You cant tell anyone about what I told you. The reason for all this cloak and dagger, these mysterious cryptic messages is because its risky to provide you with detailed information. These words can never reach the public, and they can never reach our enemies. I know. I understand. You can trust me. Zachery shook his head, rapidly, keeping a careful eye on the windows Its not a matter of trust. Its a matter of endurance. The wranglers have ways to make you speak, whether you want to or not. He turned back to his son Im afraid youll have to act fast. They are already here. Wyatt jumped to his feet, eyes wide What?! But you said they only might find me! I had to ensure your choice was not one made out of desperation! Im afraid theyve been surrounding your building for the last five minutes... Farl! Wyatt said, clawing at his scalp and pacing around What do I do?! Keep your senses. You can do this. Collect your gear; my gear Wyatt darted over to the cardboard box and began scooping up the belongings he hadnt packed away already Youll need

everything in there you can carry. Its for you, it was always for you. Wyatt grabbed everything; the thermo flask, the hoods, the wraps, everything, slotting them neatly into binds on the belt hed also retrieved from the same box previously. It seemed like everything had its own place, its own compartment in the utility holder. Ok, got them he confirmed, turning to his fathers ghost Now what? You can take your case with you, but be warned, you may have to give it up. Do you have the key? Wyatt felt his sleeper coat pocket. It was in there Yeah... What is i- Theres no time. Pay attention and do exactly as I say. I sense five of them outside. F...five?! Dont give in to fear. Thats how the wranglers stop leyborn! How do they know Im a leyborn!? Wyatt whispered that last word, afraid that they might hear him. Its possible they extracted information from your vermus friend. Its also possible they are just acting on speculation. The fact is, they are here now. Take your case and move to the front door. But- You cant argue, Wyatt! Do it He whimpered like a puppy and grabbed the rest of his belongings, scuttering over to his door with his head held low, half expecting bullets to come spitting through the flimsy walls. Be calm... Wyatt reached the door, standing by it, watching his father with uncertainty. They dont know youre part necroborn, so they wont try to kill you on sight. They will be using crossbows, so you need something to deter them. He gestured to the rickety wooden exit You will need to force the door from its hinges and run directly forward into the forest, using the trees as cover. The door will act as a shield so long as you keep it held firmly at your exposed back. Wranglers can run fast so you will need to be faster. Wyatt nodded a little, taking his position before the doorway. ...Can... I kill them? He asked, more out of curiosity than intention. No. Ill tell you why later. There is one wrangler positioned at each corner of the house. Two of them will take the shot as soon as you breach the door. You have to be fast. Go forward and forward only. Try not to change direction. Our rendezvous point is positioned in line with your house. Its a carriage, you wont miss it. He took a concerned inhalation Ok... Go when youre ready The wranglers waited outside, their breathing slightly echoic through their cowl-like masks. They aimed their crossbows carefully at the door, signalling to each other. One of them raised a closed fist to another, before pointing at the wall. The command was acknowledged, and the recipient began to deploy a small explosive device onto one of the shacks thin wooden walls, ready to breach and clear the room on the other side of it. The demolitionist held up three fingers, backing away. One finger dropped, then the second, and finally the third. With the countdown ended, the bomb detonated, the wood splintering into fragments. Just as the hunter stormed the den, the front door cracked off its hinges as Wyatt burst through it, twisting dramatically with it still in his grip, blocking two crossbow bolts from the wranglers guarding the only exit. The door released from his grip and he sprinted off into the forest, luggage slung over his shoulder. The wranglers took a few seconds to reload their weapons before giving chase and snarling commands HOLD! STOP! STOP OR WE WILL SHOOT! They were going to shoot anyway, it was a pointless threat, not that Wyatt really had the time or the nerve to even listen to it, panting like a dog trapped in a carriage

and dashing with no sense of fatigue or direction. He rushed past the trees, weaving under and leaping over branches, more crossbow bolts splitting the bark of the various vegetation around him. Some leyborn powers would have been really useful round about now, he thought to himself, ducking as another projectile whistled past his ear, its tip dripping with a sedative. Some bullets would have been nice too; he felt a bit silly carrying a gun around without any ammunition. Evidently this wouldnt be a problem soon enough however, as the first gunshot of the chase cracked loudly around him, a musket smashing a branch clean from its sprouting point above. It smashed down before Wyatt, narrowly missing him. He managed to vault over it without too much difficulty and carried on running, the clinking spurs of the wranglers still hot on his heels. PISS OFF! he yelled, regretting his demand a little. Atta boy, Wyatt, make it worse. SORRY AND EVERYTHING! BUT IM INNOCENT! IM NOT RUNNING AWAY! IM ON A CASUAL MORNING JOG! There. Much better. Wyatts vision began to blur a little. Perhaps he was starting to get a little exhausted. The pain in his legs and chest were a good indicator of this, but he pressed on, too afraid to stop now. The sounds of wrangler feet had decreased a little. It would seem hed lost a good deal of them. Another crossbow bolt bulleted past, impaling a leaf that was falling from the canopy above and spearing it against a log. Rook took a quick glance over his shoulder. Only one wrangler was still following, a dexterous looking young man. He was loading another bolt as he dashed, not even glancing back as his large brimmed hat was swept from his head, revealing some pitch black wavy hair and murky brown eyes. He raised the weapon and fired again, a look of absolute determination on his face. It missed by a good few feet, suggesting he was starting to get tired too. This wrangler didnt look cruel or menacing, he looked dutiful and loyal, perhaps not even realising what he was doing was almost psychotically immoral. Wyatt turned his head back to the path ahead, but too late was he, his head crashing against a low branch and the world flashing brightly with the impact. He thudded to the leaf strewn floor, a ringing in his ears A jumble of curse words cycled through Wyatts concussed mind, along with an assortment of self-esteem destroying self directed insults. Hed been a fool to take his eyes from ahead of him. He already felt the lump rising on his forehead, the inevitable tan shape of the pursuing wranglers duster sliding into view. The man must have been about Wyatts age; early twenties. He aimed the crossbow with a slight click. Leyborn. He said, simply. His voice was smooth and silky, but cold and calculating. His mouth was still masked by the exaggerated collar on his coat Resisting arrest is delaying the inevitable. Wyatt drooled a little in dazed response. Words were hard when youd been hit on the head Urrgrgh... he foamed Nghot.. Leyborn... Im... Not leyborn... Then why did you run? Stand up. He did a slight motion with the crossbows tip. Now. I have no qualms carrying your unconscious body back, if youd so prefer. Wyatt rolled onto his belly, wobblingly clambering to his feet. The wind softly gusted its way through the woods, a few leaves drifting between the two of them. Wyatt rubbed his head again, the sudden movement almost invoking a reaction in the young wranglers trigger finger. ...I ran because you chased me... Wyatt muttered. Wouldnt you?... Shut up. The black haired hunter moved behind Wyatt and tapped his shoulder with the crossbow Walk. He indicated back in the direction theyd both came in. Wyatt took one step forward before feigning a trip, falling to his knees fairly convincingly.

Ngh... Damn it... he said, his fingers subtly closing around a thick stick that was buried in a layer of leaves below. Why are you chasing me anyway? Even if I was a leyborn, what did I do wrong, huh? Get up. Youre a danger to the kingdom. You will be processed, contained, trained to moderate and control your casts, and then maybe, MAYBE... Youll be deployed back into the world. Wyatt stayed on his knees Really? That sounds fair to you?... he looked over his shoulder with a piercing gaze ...What gives you the right to decide who is dangerous and who aint?... The king does. Final warning. Get up. Wyatt sighed, rising slowly at first before lurching into a speedy ascend, swinging the stick around and smashing it against the mans temple. The wrangler yelped with a brief second of pain before collapsing upon the forest floor with a muffled rustle. Wyatt gasped with surprise. Hed never heard of a wrangler being knocked out before. Part of him told him to keep running before others arrived, but then the thief within said he should exploit this opportunity. Quickly, he checked the wranglers belongings, deciding to keep the crossbow and the bolts for himself. He found a small pocket watch, silver in colour and material. He flipped it open, revealing a time piece and, surprisingly, a picture of the man with what must have been his wife. He quickly checked the mans ring finger to confirm this. It was strange, hed never considered the wranglers to have a life other than the ones they were infamous for. It was quite relieving in a way to know they werent all monsters. Rook tucked the watch back into the mans coat pocket. He knew where to draw the line when it came to thieving. He whipped out the mans identity card, checking the name: He was called Kristian Prowler, he was twenty five years old, and had been serving the wranglers for just two years. The tally indicator below the name was likely related to the amount of arrests or kills the wrangler had made, in which case, this man had made four. The flip side of the card depicted a very distinctive seal that was used to access almost any secure area in the kingdom. Rook hesitated before pocketing it for himself; you never know when a key to confidentiality was going to come in handy. Finally he grabbed the wranglers coin pouch (which sadly turned out to be empty) and stood up, shaking his head one final time to rid himself of the minor daze and continuing his trek. He ran for another two minutes, praying to his own fortune that hed travelled in the correct direction. Woolorths whinnied in the distance, and he felt his hopes rising. He was going to make it. Somehow, hed escaped the elites of the Wolfbane Pact. Afraid to jinx his luck, he contained any sort of celebratory outburst and instead continued running, a pair of wooden wheels coming into view through the dense woodlands. Wyatt rushed out onto a road, skidding to a halt, panting and gawking at the stationary carriage before him. He could hardly believe his eyes. It was the cart hed stolen from the Pact the other day. The woolorths were the same, the style was the same, the foot prints upon the wood that Wyatt had left there upon his downward impact. The only difference was that the Wolfbane Pact insignia had been pried from the carriages side to better hide its identity. He looked around, half expecting to see Aris somewhere, but she was nowhere to be found. Amazingly, even the cargo was still all present, easily enough rations to last a lengthy trip. He investigated the cart further. It was completely abandoned, but it didnt take long for Zachery to show up. He appeared with a glimmering white light and stepped forward, gesturing to the carts drivers seat. Come on. Get in. We dont have long.

How did you get... this off Aris? Wyatt asked between breaths while climbing up to the reins. We have our ways. You need it more than she does. Im sure shell understand. Wyatt grinned as he gripped the ropes and shook them, sharply I dont give two farls what that girl... thinks. She stabbed me in the back! This is like... retribution! Id have loved to see the look on her pretty... face when she realised her loot was gone! HA! Indeed Zachery said, climbing up and sitting next to Wyatt. The woolorths brayed and began to trot forward, the carriages wheels rumbling pleasingly away. Wyatt tossed his luggage into the back of the cart with the rest of the boxes, eyeing the crossbow in his hand. Zachery stared at it and swore under his breath. Wyatt ushered him down I didnt kill him. Relax... I just hit him on the head Zachery exhaled in relief ...You had me worried for a moment there... Yeah, right. He twirled the crossbow on his finger So why cant we kill wranglers? Not that I want to, or anything... but... We have a long journey to talk about that, and everything else. Catch your breath and relax. Heh... right... Wyatt leant back against the leather rest behind him. ...How long... exactly? ...About... thirty days... Wyatt groaned An entire lunar cycle... in Lumina... on a stuffy little cart... filled with food... he sighed, regretfully Fan-bloody-tastic...

Chapter Six Follow the Rules

Twelve Nights Ago A lesser man would have cowered their days away when informed of such a future. They would have yielded to societys rules, fallen victim to the ill favouring and immoral laws of the Kingdom. You chose the higher path, the opportunists path; granting you access to a world spoken of only in myths and storybooks. You have begun your journey, and have received an abundance of information so far. Youve learnt how these dream recollections work, and so, I feel perfectly happy telling you what the stimulus of this particular memory is. These words are triggered simply by the thought of your four week long endeavour. As you, no doubt, curse the very prospect of this arduousness, my voice will reach you, even as I sit beside you. Youve never really explored beyond your woodlands boundaries. Youve perhaps heard news from the regions to the east, and to the north, but youve not actually stepped over the boarders. While it may seem nothing but a grinding task, the journey is just as important to your learning as the training at Palthgar shall be. As a Palecaller, you will be an agent for the Pale. The Pale stretches over the entirety of Rimes surface, like an invisible second skin. You cannot access any point of it from anywhere in the world; and so, you will be expected to travel vast distances to locate the restless dead in all manner of places, sometimes even travelling across seas to neighbouring continents. Alternatively, you could look at this experience as a purely cultural one. By moving through the regions of Sovreignous, you may learn how to blend into them, how to interact with its citizens, and what sort of welcome you will expect to receive on your visits there. A Palecaller will never venture into Norvask without some form of weaponry, for example, as the civilians there will find any excuse they can to challenge an outsider. The journey will take us around The Dry Divide desert in Sovreignous centre. We will stay on the roads, moving north through The Divines Reserve then west on through Norvask and finally climbing the mountainous region, The Ivory Reach. We cant predict how smooth the journey will be, or even if youll make it there, but men have travelled further in worse conditions. You should be fine. Harden yourself and prepare your thoughts, the time you have before you arrive at the fortress is essential for your development. As a sceptic, you will be closed-minded to what the teachers tell you, and its your scepticism that will eventually cause your failure. You have to accept that so much more than what youre familiar with is possible, is real. While trying to avoid sounding, shall we say, cheesy... you have to believe in your powers before they can manifest. Doubting aspects of reality that dont necessarily seem real will make them not real, to you at least. You will actually falsify aspects of your nature and learning before they have a chance to prove their existence, and that concept of disbelief can and has led to the demise of many leyborn, Palecallers or otherwise. They cant do what is necessary because they dont see it as something plausible. They give up, or try something they do know, leading to limitations. Break this habit, or you will end up like them. This message isnt subtle for a reason. This is just an example which you can refer to when taking into account all I have told you about the dreams. On the extremely rare chance that this message is coming to you before youre ready, and what you can hear right now makes no sense, please disregard it as madness and enjoy the completely unrelated thirty day trip which triggered this.

Present Day Wyatts eyes snapped open, one hand gripping the reins and his other rubbing his scalp through his dark, grubby hair. His pupils darted to the left and he peered at the very physical looking ghost sat beside him. Zachery was staring forwards calmly, perhaps enjoying watching the world trundle by. The carts wheels rumbled along, merrily, and the woolorths pulling it seemed content with their work. The wranglers hadnt followed, for the past two hours, the carriage had been uninterrupted. The forest was passing very slowly, and would continue to do so for a few days. The Everlast Woods was the second largest forest on Rime, and it would take the first part of the journey just to reach the edge. Thankfully, the road the Kingdoms workers had constructed led right through it, so there would be no need for uncomfortable detours. Wyatt had been napping until his fathers pre-programmed dream had awoken him. He was now grumpy, and there would be hell to pay. Hey! he shouted to the man sat beside him, making him jump. The woolorths, assuming the call was directed at them, picked up the pace ever so slightly, glancing to each other, questioningly. Zachery regained his mentoring composure and gave Wyatt a forced look of professionalism Yes?... How do I turn your little brain punching messages off? Zachery frowned at the query, turning his body to face the same direction as his head Ive already told you how important they are. Why do you want to switch them off? And they dont punch your brain... They offer you information. When they hit me, I cant see. I cant think, or act, I just stand there with this thing shouting at me. What if one day, I get your message in the middle of a fight? Ill be screwed. I put a lot of work into those! Show some appreciation. Zachery waggled his finger, paternally. I assume you just got the one about the excursion! Its true, you know, belief is important. Wyatt rubbed his eyes, turning them back towards the road If you wanna tell me that crap, just tell me. Why does it got to be hammered into my mind like that? Thats just the way it is. Youll find that most of the dream messages will come to you when Im not around, and that they will be useful. None of the stimuli to invoke them should appear while youre fighting, unless your mind tends to stray a lot during the heat of battle... which I doubt he watched Wyatt shake the reins a little and taking out your anger on the woolorths wont help much either... I know they can go faster than this... he muttered They can, but this is a long trip, and they need to maintain their strength just as we do. Wyatt sighed, tying the reins to a post between him and Zachery. There would be no need to steer for some time; this road was a straight line east. Rook leant back on his seat, closing his eyes again before saying ...So... has it ever happened before? I mean do the dreams ever go in the wrong order?... Its rare, but yeah, its happened a few times. Zachery contemplated for a moment They only start to trigger when we enable them. I only enabled yours as you slept the night before last. Youll find they get less obscure and more informative as they progress, but dont get frustrated if there are still details I skip over or avoid. Some things youll never learn, and some you will just need more training before you do.

What kind of things do you avoid telling? asked Wyatt, his eyes still closed Anything that the wranglers could really use against us. Locations, weaknesses, names of the current callers... things like that. Youll learn all of this yourself, but by the time you do, you should be able to hold off most wranglers, or at least master an efficient way of ending your own life after falling into their hands. Naturally, there was an incredibly long silence following this somewhat morbid snippet. Eventually, Wyatt just waved it away, grumbling with his eyelids down Im gonna pretend I didnt hear that... I dont blame you. Youll be fine, Im sure. Heh heh... you keep telling me that, its gotta work at some point A few kyne drifted by the carriage as it continued along its already mind numbingly boring path. Wyatt pawed at them, sending them spinning away in a flurry of glowing spores. He chuckled, sadistically, ignoring the glares from his ever watchful father. It was awkward to spend such a long time alone with someone you barely knew. Wyatt occasionally felt obliged to say something meaningless and tiresome just for the sake of breaking the painful silence that clung to the pair of them like tar. Hed comment on the weather, or the local wildlife, receiving a fact or an acknowledgement in return. ...Look... hed say ...The sun is a little higher than it was earlier... ...Thats correct... would be the response, sometimes with something extra, like Sun is good. ...Mhm hm. Good. This continued for some time, until eventually Rook was reaching a breaking point, the seconds ticking away until they reached their destination in his head. It was an incredibly large and most likely inaccurate number; somewhere in the squillions. ...So... Wyatt uttered, after yet another hour had past ...I do recall you saying something along the lines of a second caller under your care... What we doing about that? Ah yes. Darius, his name is. Darius Lao... Were going to pay him a visit before we leave the woods. Incidentally, if I disappear at any point, its usually because Im checking up on him. He smiled at Rook Dont panic, or anything... Ill be fine. He shook the reins to speed up the woolorths a little. They had slowed without the occasional command You said he hadnt done his near death experience? So he wont be able to hear you, yet? Not like you can, no. He can have the dreams, but I cant talk to him directly until hes felt the Cold Darks embrace. So... How are you gonna work around that? Should he have been shot or whatever by now? Wyatt blinked as Zachery looked at him. It was one of those looks hed learnt to hate, because it was usually followed by an outlandish request Everything is in motion as it should be... Zachery said We dont have to rely on chance for him... I have you to hear me... Wyatt released the reins and waved his hands in objection Woa, woa, woa! That sounded mighty suggestive to my ears. Im not gonna shoot some poor bastard Ive never met just so he can listen to you yammer on for farl knows how long. What if he dies? How am I meant to live with that?! Wyatt, its perfectly safe. Palecallers have a natural ability to save themselves... I needed a bioborn to save me! I needed my best friend to give himself up to the wranglers! We aint as magic as you think we are! If Maya was here with me then maybe, maybe Id do it, but otherwise, forget it. Zachery smirked and stared forward again

...Youll come around... he said, disturbingly ...Its all about belief. If you believe hell be alright... then he will. If he believes it, then it shall be so. We wont use bullets, anyhow. Too messy Wow, arent you a saint?... Wyatt muttered, practically seeing the different light of which he would now see his father through switch on overhead. Its necessary, Wyatt. Every Palecaller must endure two near death experiences before they can call Palthgar their home... Wyatt twitched and raised an eyebrow at the man beside him ...Couldnt help notice you said... two... I said your initiation would be dangerous... Dont worry, the second time you do it will be under much more controlled circumstances. I dont like dyin! Stop tryin to polish it up and make it shiny! Nearly dyin is still farling dyin! I did die and I dont make nearly as much fuss as you do. Just focus on the journey ahead and stop thinking of the worst case scenario. Ive told you already that you will be fine. Once should be enough... Wyatt scowled, turning to face the woolorths again And what about the others?... Will they be fine too? Zachery didnt answer. He just continued to stare forward, vacantly. Wyatt shook his head, breathing a single short laugh Heh... Wow... so you even know that you people are marching some young men and women to their deaths... and youre just going to do it anyway?... Its worth the risk... Wyatt. We can make assumptions on how well the Palecaller initiates will endure the trials, but they arent always correct... I can assume that some of the others will perish, but they may well live... Using that logic... I may well die... Wyatt muttered through gritted teeth. Zacherys silence said more than words. Rook was right. He was in just as much danger as ever other poor sod headed to the east. The cold-world warbler birds chirruped loudly from the branches above, displaying their vibrant feathers in the sunlight while they still had the chance. Their colours did not serve them well in the greyness of Glacenox. The carriage passed a number of gently pulsating, mauve coloured, bulbous plants, named Rotswells. They were hissing, spewing a truly hideous smell forth to the forest. It was like a mass grave stewing in the days warmth. The smell would attract flies and other insects that enjoyed putrescence to act as ignorant servants of pollination. This was just one of the flowers that used this vomit inducing technique. Fortunately, most of them went for the more perfumery, sickly approach, like the plants opposite them, Honeysweets. Honeysweets were orange and yellow, and they emitted a pleasant, sugary smell which mimicects enjoyed. Folk tended to avoid handling them however, as their scent had a tendency to linger, and youd have insects coming from three hundred metres away to find you and climb into your house or place of work to reach you. The effects lasted a few days, the culmination of which usually involving a number of stings and bites. The two smells blended together to make something that was just about bearable, but the carriage soon moved by them, a little hastier than normal due to the woolorths obvious discomfort as well. Wyatts stomach let out a grumbling complaint another two hours later, reminding him he hadnt eaten since hed visited his mother yesterday afternoon. This then brought him to the thought that hed not even said goodbye to her before leaving town. Zachery pointed a thumb to the carriages storage space when Wyatts belly growled again Theres enough food there to last us a few months. Help yourself. The woolorths can walk by themselves easy enough. This is a straight road. Wyatt acknowledged this with a nod, tying the reins to the post beside him and standing up, wobbling a little but maintaining balance fairly easily. He hopped over his seat and clunked down into the miniscule walkway between the carriages

storage body and the attached woolorth driving stand. The two of them were connected by a small pivoting piece of metal, held together by a single sturdy, thick bolt. The carriage had four wheels, and the drivers stand had an additional two. The whole set was balanced so that the weight of the carriage behind would be enough to stop the force of the pulling woolorths from tilting the drivers stand forward. The Wolfbane Pact had used this articulated design ever since the war had started. The idea was that you could swiftly switch out exhausted woolorths and bring in new ones without too much fiddling. It was also a useful design for combat and decoy work. Sometimes the Pact would lead fenrye away from a village with a carriage like this one full of explosives. They would light the fuse and then detach the rear end, destroying it and the pursuing fenrye with it. It also made for sharper turns in closed environments. Practicality wise, it was useful on a trip like this, as a door on the front end of the cabin was reachable without stopping or posing a risk to health. While the back door would always be used for loading and unloading, the front one could ensure hasty checkups from co-drivers and, in cases like Wyatts, it could provide access to the supplies within, not to mention if there was a bed in there, it could be used for sleeping and switch-shifts. Wyatt pushed open the door and padded inside, stooping his head to do so. There were plenty of crates to choose from, some of which hed already opened during his endeavours the other day. He grabbed a handful of smoked venison strips and stuffed them crudely into his mouth. Everything tasted so good if you neglected your need to eat for some time. As he chewed the tough meat, Zacherys ghostly head appeared through the door of the carriage, nearly making Wyatt choke to death in surprise. Ah... Sorry... he said, clearing his throat Ahem... Im going to jump on ahead and check on Darius. I need to give you directions so you can meet me there. Wyatt gave a go ahead signal, his mouth still full Good. This road is fairly straight for another few miles, but eventually youll see a road that goes off to the north on your left. Its a crossroad. Straight ahead goes to Outstretch and the Dry Divide, right will take you to Fordale, which we dont wanna do, so turn left and head north to Lakebank. There will be signs and everything so dont worry too much about getting lost. Lakebank is where we need to meet though. You should be there as the sun starts to set if you maintain this speed. Wyatt finally managed to swallow his mouthful after some jaw achingly fast chewing. I thought Lakebank was screwed over by the fenrye? No, thats Lakeside Wyatt laughed The Everlast Woods folk aint great at original naming Indeed not. Dont go to Lakeside by accident though. There are only a few miles between them but Lakeside is a ghost town now. Only thing youll find there are bandits hiding in the ruins. Just dont turn off the road once you go left and youll eventually end up in Lakebank. Theres a tavern on the Lower-Shelf called The Forbidden Fisherman. Meet me there. He hesitated to let Wyatt absorb the information ...Got it? Sure. Good. Ill just... Hang on a moment... Wyatt said, quickly Im a little... worried about Ma. Shes gonna think somethin happened to me... Zachery began to fade away, offering a little shrug and saying Something did happen to you... As far as everyone in that town will be concerned... his voice became echoic as he vanished Wyatt Rook is dead.

Wyatts heart sunk, and he slumped upon one of the other crates, chewing on another dried strip. He sighed between chews, thinking about his mother. First shed lost her husband, and now her son had mysteriously vanished as well, and not under too dissimilar circumstances. Zachery had told him that a Palecaller had a certain degree of freedom. He convinced himself that he would be able to return to Fern one day and explain to her, at least some of the more non-secretive details. He would have done it before he left, if the damn wranglers hadnt chased him away. Perhaps the pain in his stomach wasnt hunger after all, he thought to himself. Maybe it was guilt. As Zachery predicted, the woolorths were perfectly able of continuing the journey without his constant hassling. He kept a tired eye upon the road, making sure he at least helped them turn the corner. He didnt want to head out into the Dry Divide. That desert was unnatural and everyone knew it. The day dragged on, heavily, the forest refusing to provide anything too interesting. Wyatt contemplated to himself about being a leyborn, occasionally raising his hands towards tree stumps and plants and making childish gun noises Pew! Frozen! Bitch! Oh? Oh?! Oh whats that, little hopflop? You want some too!? PCHKA! he pointed at a hopflop (a small furry hopping mammal with enormous ears it wrapped around itself to keep warm in Glacenox) which went rigid with fear. For a moment, Wyatts excitement grew as he came to the conclusion that it was his powers that had stilled the critter, but sadly it hopped away a few seconds later with great speed. He griped and slouched on his drivers chair. Whats the point in having god given powers if a fella cant even use them?! Staring directly forward and relaxing, Wyatt finally managed to spot the four pronged crossroads that Zachery had mentioned. He straightened up on his chair, grabbing the reins from their post and lashing them slightly. The woolorths broke into a faster trot, their hooves clopping along the dusty road. A single sign post stood in one of the crossroads corners. Sure enough, Lakebank and Lakeside were drawn up there as a left turn. As Wyatt prepared to steer the woolorths in the desired direction, a cloaked, masked figure slid out from behind the sign post. Wyatts eyes narrowed. Hed wondered how long itd be before a highwayman turned up. His eyes darted over the man, taking in every feature and detail possible from this distance. His sword was sheathed, but its hilt was stained and awkwardly designed, suggesting he was either a moron or a unique expert. The mask covered only the top half of his face, and seemed to have a sort of masquerade ball origin. He had a scar over the left side of his cheek, suggesting either amateurism or he was a veteran. He had no holster or ranged weapons, at least not visible ones. All of these features could swing him either into the black or white, the good or the bad. Wyatt needed just one distinguishing detail above all others. As the woolorths came to a halt, not keen on the idea of running a man over, he drew his sword... or at least he tried to. In one move, he clumsily dropped it to the floor, before falling to his knees and awkwardly scooping it up again. Yup. He was a moron. You there! he called. His voice was surprisingly confident, even after his little fumble You are to surrender your goods to I, the great Renaldo Ferguson! Why the farl do you wear a mask if youre gonna just tell me your name, idiot? Wyatt shouted back from his seat. The man stopped ......Its of little importance! Step off the carriage, or prepare to die!

Youre doing it all wrong! Wyatt called Your presentation is so sloppy! You aint got the jump on me, so you cant use the fear aspect, and you havent even checked me out as a mark. This could end up in shambles for you! Please stop correcting me and step off the... Did you just say please?! What kind of pansy ass highway man are you!? Wyatt laughed Farl, Id throw you a few pointers but Im afraid youd drop them on the ground too! Thats it! Renaldo shouted Thats it! Im coming over there! Im going to gut you like a fish! And now what youve done is taken away my ability to take the safer route! If I was fearing for my life, Id mayhaps be happy to comply if you said youd spare me. Now youre just looking to kill me so I feel compelled to do this! Wyatt reached to the chair beside him and plucked up the crossbow hed acquired from the wrangler earlier. He pointed it down at the highway man, who stopped dead in his tracks ...Crap... he said, backing away. Darn right crap. Thats how Id describe you, perfectly. He pulled the bolt back You aint cut out for work like this. Youve got no initiative or intuition. Now name your favourite limb... Wait! Ill go! the man cried You dont have to shoot me! he dropped the sword on the ground again, intentionally this time, backing away Ill go home! Wheres that, exactly? Its uh... well... Lakebank Wyatt beamed, pointing the crossbow briefly up the left road before jerking it at the man again Perfect! Im going there too. Show me the way, yellow belly! Renaldo backed away, and began walking up the route to Lakebank Well... its this way... FASTER, MARMOT!! The highway man squealed and legged it, running up to the north with his cape trailing behind him. Wyatt chuckled, putting the crossbow down and shaking the reins again Ya! Cmon now. Git The horses resumed their trot, giving Wyatt just enough time to dangle down from his drivers seat and snatch up the boys fallen sword. He examined its shoddy craftsmanship before tossing it onto the co-drivers chair, along with the wranglers bow. Never knew when an extra sword could come in handy. Once the carriage was around the corner, and the surroundings had been checked for anymore would-be threats, it was another hours slow ride before civilisation returned. The sun was starting to sink already but he had plenty of time to get to the rendezvous point. Hed never been to Lakebank before. As one could guess, Lakebank takes its name from its positioning, sitting on the shores of the Shiftlake, named as such due to its inconsistent molecular structure. In Blossom and Lumina, it was liquid, while in Glaze and Glacenox, it was solid, or at least the crust of it was: A simple concept leading to a simple name. Lakebank was one of four or five villages that surrounded Shiftlake (it was a very big lake) but Lakebank was the largest of these, most of the others only being small settlements with a population in the fifties. Lakebank itself was much larger than Fern, with around two thousand people living there, six times as much as Ferns miniscule population. The architecture there was apparently a little more advanced and it had a number of Pact guardsman stationed around on towers. The place wasnt meant to be a tourist destination or anything; the last Wyatt had heard of it, it was under a chokehold by an underground criminal gang known as the Stone Skippers. Wyatt felt sorry for any town that was controlled by men with such a camp organisation name, but he would persevere and try to stay out of trouble.

Another forty five minutes of steady paced driving past by, the skies starting to tint as Luma began to set. The carriages six wheels clunked loudly and the woolorths hooves volume rocketed upwards, jolting Wyatt to his senses. They had driven onto a bridge and were now crossing over it. On one side, one could see a river, snaking its way down to the south. On the other, a clearing in the trees, opening out onto the beautiful glimmering surface of Shiftlake. A few sign posts dotted the lakes distant banks, warning people to stay out of the deep waters. The mossy pieces of rotting wood depicted an animalistic painted silhouette. The beast it was portraying was no doubt an abyssei. Wyatt shook himself awake just to be sure he didnt have any accidents that could involve him entering the waters. Abyssei were terrifying; sadly just another thing on Rime that could kill you and eat you, except in an aquatic environment. There were a few withered bouquets at scattered points around the edges of the still water, roughly tossed into place since villagers were no doubt afraid of drawing too near to the shallows. That was how they got you, and pulled you in by your ankles. Wyatt had no idea what abyssei actually looked like, and he wasnt keen to find out, although there was some books on the matter, some even with illustrations and anatomical displays devised from dissections. They werent a mystery, but they certainly had their share of mysterious elements. Some folk tales said they were descended from the Faithfuls god of Water, Hyde. Some said they were vengeful spirits that had gone mad after drowning. Either way, they were unpleasant. Wyatt watched the waters in a way every child would when crossing a bridge, leaning over from his drivers chair and checking for fish, or in this case, six foot long monsters, but there was nothing that stirred his attention. The carriage thudded back onto soil as it reached the bridges opposite end and continued going. Several sign posts indicated he was headed in the right direction Welcome to Lakebank! Rook read one allowed. He peered at the subtext beneath it For your own safety, please do not enter the lake or collect water from it without armed supervision. He chuckled Damn... Wonder why so many people moved here... Next to that death trap he glanced to the lake again, just as it slid out of view behind the trees once more. The cart passed the sign, moving by a second one I really mean it. Dont go in the water, for crying out loud. Dont even stand near it. Dont admire your reflection in it. Dont let your livestock or pets drink there either. Wyatt sighed and shook his head before spotting a third sign, this one hastily hammered in and the message a little more scrawled. Once again, he read loudly to himself You know what? Just stay the farl away from the thing in general Wyatt chuckled at the obvious pattern of regressing age. It was as if every time the rules hadnt been clear enough, theyd added an additional set, which played like a message in chronological order. He couldnt knock the affectivity of this technique, though. He knew he wouldnt be going near those gloomy shores any time soon. Signs of town life began to pop up here and there; initials scratched into the barks of trees, a few rope swings, some litter, followed by more major signs; small cabins, fishing huts, tents with fires crackling away outside them (assumedly for hunting parties) and even a few elegant little outskirt cottages. Some hunters strolled past the wheels of the carriage, chatting to each other about the days game. Some fishermen were standing in front of a waist high fence near another bridge which Wyatts cart was headed towards, arguing loudly over who had caught the biggest fish in a truly stereotypical way. Over this second bridge, a large sprawling multileveled town came into view, its glass windows and metallic surfaces reflecting the setting suns rays for a truly dazzling spectacle. Lakebank was large, with a sort of elevating staircase formation. There were three levels, a bottom section, which opened out onto Shiftlake, a middle section, and a raised section with fancy mansions and cathedrals, even a school (understandably as far from the lakes edge as possible). In

the lower shelf, which the bridge led onto, the area that opened out onto the lake to the west was fenced off. It wasnt impossible to climb over or creep under the barricades, but who in their right mind would want to do that? As previously informed, there was indeed four watch towers on each corner of the settlement, one of which Wyatts carriage gently moved its way past as soon as it departed from the bridge. The sound of town life was distant, but growing closer every second. By this time, most people would be done working and heading off for a few hours of leisure. That sounded like a mighty fine idea, Rook thought to himself, grinning slightly. If anyone deserved a rest, it was surely him. Wyatt pulled the reins of his woolorths back, forcing them to come to a halt as a Wolfbane Pact guardsman walked into his path and raised his hand to signal the stop. Wyatt glanced down the man, expertly hiding his nerves. He was hoping his carriage hadnt been recognised by its former owners. Welcome to Lakebank, sir. Do you have somewhere to shelter tonight? the helmeted guard said, his voice echoing from within. Shelter? Im kind of just passing through. I have a few errands to run and then-... Tonight is a Bloodmoon, sir. We cant afford to have civilians running around on the streets in case the beasts decide to attack Lakebank this cycle... Wyatt groaned. Hed forgotten about the full moon, and the Pacts devotion to making an entire continent grind to a halt in what could be a perfectly good night of heavy drinking. Ill just stay at a tavern, then... The taverns dont have fenrye defence certificates. If you have no place of your own to stay, youll have to bunk in a building of our choosing. Fine... Whatever. Ill probably be gone by the time the moon is up anyway Id advise against that, sir, but its your call. The soldier glanced to a list in his hand The Church to Driff has vacancies, on the Centre-Shelf. Its uhh he peered at the details Its free for the night, but youre expected to sit through one sermon about Driffs influence upon Rime... You guys worship Driff here?... Wyatt said, with a tilted head Some people do the guard replied Most dont worship anyone anymore. Will that suit you? Wyatt shrugged and gave a reluctant nod Yeah, alright. You need my name? Thats correct Its Edwin Stygan. S-T-Y-G-A-N The guard wrote this done with a pencil hed pulled from his pocket ...Ok... Stygan... youre all booked in now. Just tell your name to the faithful wholl be guarding the entrance and hell mark you in. As an added note, please refrain from unsheathing any of your weapons while in town. Other than that, youre free to enter. Right...Thanks. Where can I park... my... cart? Theres a stable area just up this road the Pact soldier pointed straight forward into the town Just keep heading in that direction and youll see a building with a straw roof. Therell be several other carriages held there and theres another guard to watch over them, so you dont need to worry about thievery here. Thats brill. Thanks muchly. Wyatt said, cheerily. The guard gave a Pact salute (a closed fist over the cracked wolf skull insignia on his tabard with a rapid straight down-right point with the same closed fist) before returning to his post. Wyatt shook the ropes of his woolorths and they resumed their trotting, moving further onto the Lower-Shelf of Lakebank.

The stables were not hard to find, just as the guard had promised. There was no toll (which was fantastic) and the guard there seemed vigilant and trustworthy, so Wyatt had no problems leaving the goods-filled cart behind and going off for a brief bit of exploration around this marvellous town. Zachery had mentioned something about a tavern on this shelf, so he just had to have a look around and find it. Crowds were milling about on the streets, moving between the now empty market stalls and closing shops. The end of the day was captured appropriately in the colourful light of the falling sun, everyone was either packing things away or socialising, with a few individuals just fixed on getting themselves home. There were very few soldiers on the streets, as most of them seemed to be sticking to the towers and outskirts, but the community seemed tame enough. For a town which was supposedly on the strings of a criminal organisation, it actually seemed quite peaceful. Perhaps the rumours were simply not true. Wyatt subtly watched a group of men from a distance as he gently pushed and weaved his way through the crowds. He honed his senses upon them. It was a group of four men with smiles likely representing accomplishment or anticipation. Their clothes suggested they were working class, meaning that an enjoyable activity would likely involve drinking. Three of their gazes were fixed upon their fourth friend; they were patting him on the back and treating him like hed achieved something. Wyatt determined it was likely they were to drink in celebration of their friends feat. It was hard to make out what they were saying over the hustle and bustle of the busy road, but he could comprehend a few words once hed snuck a little closer Wanna get a drink, then? That I do! Its on me tonight, boys! I got myself a raise! The three men cheered at the fourth Congratulations! We now depend on you! they laughed. One of them looked around, idly, spotting Wyatt staring right at him. Rook instantly and likely suspiciously turned his head away, suddenly becoming very interested in a sign above a shop door. The man didnt seem to bother, and rejoined the conversation Wanna go to the Liars Folly? Nah. I was there last week and counted eight individual fights. The place is rough. What about The Forbidden Fisherman? Its a little pricey there... Didnt you hear me when I told you I got a raise? Lets go! another cheer sounded from the group and they turned towards one of the streets that split off from the main road. They wandered onwards, ignorant to Wyatts presence as he casually followed them to his rendezvous point. This second street seemed to be a residential area. There were many houses, some with lights beaming through the windows and some without. About two thirds of the houses had small posters on the front doors. As Wyatt passed one, he stepped towards it to get a closer look. It was a simple printed page with the words: Defence Certified. It was interesting to behold the way the larger settlements handled the fenrye invasions. Back in Fern, there were no certificates and only a few posted guards. Fortunately, however, most people in Fern were used to the rougher side of life, and could hold their own in a fight, for a few seconds, at least, long enough for more citizens to charge in and assist the endangered ally. Wyatt suspected that if Lakebanks defence wasnt so advanced, two dozen fenrye could kill a frighteningly large portion of the towns population. A pair of wranglers clinked past Rook, and he did his best to innocently hide his face. They didnt give him a second glance and kept walking, no doubt on guard here to deal with any fenrye leyborn should they choose to attack Lakebank. There were hundreds of settlements all around the

continent and many more scattered ranches and farms, all of which could play host to a fenrye attack. They only attacked one place every full moon however, so the chance of it actually being Lakebank was miniscule. The Wolfbane Pact soldiers really liked to play it safe however, so they took all of these laborious precautions in the larger towns and cities. Wyatts straying mind almost derailed him from the task at hand. He jogged a little to catch up with his marks, resuming his pursuit below the metaphorical radar. The four men headed down to the stone docks. Again, more fences crested the edges of the jetties and walkways and all of the boats were of a closed-cabin variety to protect sailors from the beasts beneath the surface. At the end of the network of weaving piers and jetties was a large, solitary wooden building with a brass fish on a hook swinging softly above the door. The men walked onto the stretching structure and made their way towards the tavern without any concerns or second thoughts. Wyatt however was more tentative to step onto the jetty, which was directly over the dark, foreboding waters of Shiftlake. He wasnt afraid of the water, more the stories of what dwelled within. He tapped his foot against the planks a few times to test their sturdiness, initially ignoring the woman and her young son walking right by him and heading to the tavern as well. They gave Wyatt some odd looks as he practically tiptoed forward, creeping delicately after them and staying a few feet behind their shadows. They had already proven that the surface would hold their weight, so he just needed to walk where they had already. This plan was fool proof. Three minutes later, and Wyatt was finally at the door to the tavern. The woman had run inside hastily, possibly to get help ridding her of what must have appeared to be her brand new stalker. He spotted a faint splash in the waters a few dozen metres out towards the centre, and he shivered, entering the building almost as quickly as the lady had done before. This tavern was much fancier than the kind Rook was used to. The tables were neatly arranged, the colour scheme had a dominant shade of satin red, complete with banners and tablecloths. The smell of food was fairly strong, suggesting this place served more than just alcohol. Perhaps most excitingly of all was the pair of bards in the corner, who were skilfully strumming a melody on a pair of wishbones*. The four men he had followed had already been served and were chatting away at one of the round tables with beverages before them. Zachery was currently nowhere to be seen. As Wyatt took a step towards the bar with intent to get a drink, he felt a large heavy hand clap upon his shoulder. He felt a wave of dj vu wash over him, memories of Grieves flashing before his eyes while he turned. A large man glared down at him. He pointed his thumb to the mother hed shadowed and said, gruffly You been followin this lass? Wyatt eyed the woman up and down ...That depends... he looked up at the intimidating man again ...Is she flattered? Shes afraid

* Wishbones are a string instrument, named as such due to their shape. They are in the shape of the letter Y, with strings between the two prongs and small button operated pulleys within the stand. You play a wishbone by propping it up, similarly to the letter Y and plucking the strings between the prongs while tightening and loosening them with the buttons for additional notes. They are considered awkward to play, and are not very popular amongst musicians.

Ah. Then no. No Im not he chuckled Ill be honest, I was just afraid of falling into the water so I kinda stayed at her heels to be safe. I probably should have asked first. He shrugged and looked past the mans arm at the woman again Sorry, maam! he shouted, turning a few heads. Clearly in this town, they werent used to the extroversion of the forest folk. Just a horrible misunderstanding. You can let me go now, sir. I dont trust you... the heavy stranger boomed, lowly I got my eye on you, outsider... I dont swing that way, but I appreciate the sentiment. Wyatt impatiently lifted the mans fat fingers from his shoulder Im sure youll find that special someone one day... There was a flash in Wyatts eyes as he flew across the room, thrown by the impact of the mans punch. Everyone fell silent, including the bards who stopped their music and watched, nervously. Rook wiped a drop of blood from his nose and got to his feet, wobbling a little. This had by no means been the first time his smart-assery had got him injured, and it would likely not be the last. The man didnt seem to have a fight in mind. He simply grunted with satisfaction and turned back to his drink. Rook turned away as well, fighting his urge to do or say something that could get him in even more trouble. The life of the bar was gradually resurrected and, little by little, the conversations and music resumed. Wyatt took a seat at the bar, holding his nose. It wasnt broken, fortunately. The tavern keeper sidled over, looking between the man sat before him and the aggressive stranger who had thrown the swing. He was balding with white hair and a small, tufty little moustache. Youre a brave man Nah. Im a stupid one. Wyatt replied with a grin You sell firebrand here? Sure do. Ill serve you if you promise to stir up no more trouble. Wyatt performed the Pact salute hed seen earlier You have my word. Can you pay? Wyatt was about to say something along the lines of I sure can! before remembering hed given every last one of his coins to Grieves. He quickly patted down his pockets in hope of finding some spare change, but to no avail. He sighed loudly and stood up Apparently not. Thanks anyway, pal. Spot of bad luck, hm? Wyatt laughed a little, nodding Something like that. Big guy took all my money. Shot me, too he opened his jacket a little and pointed to the hole in his bloodstained shirt Right here. Bioborn fixed me up Farl... Have one on the house. You look like you need it. Wyatt gasped a little You sir, are the greatest man in the history of great men he took a seat while the barkeep poured a mug of firebrand Its nothing. To be honest, no one drinks this stuff here anyway. People tend to be more civilised out here. You must be from the south? I used to be... Rook took the drink Thanks He took a sip, enjoying the burn as it slipped down his gullet. The windows yielded some interesting views, granted most of them were of the lake but you could see the docks from a few of them. Some people were bringing in a net full of flapping fish from their armoured ship while another man was sat alone, his fishing rod dangled over the edge of the jetty. So whys this place called The Forbidden Fisherman? People aint allowed to fish here unless they have special equipment. Therere abyssei living in the lake... Ah... Wyatt said, taking another swig before pointing out the window So whats that guy up to then? The barkeep followed the finger and peered at where Wyatt was indicating. He went pale

and vaulted over the bar, running to the door and kicking it open. Again, the music and speaking stopped YOU THERE! the owner cried. The fisherman turned his head, guiltily Reel that in and get out of here! I JUST NEED SOME FOOD FOR MY FAMILY! the distant fisherman called back. YOULL BE FOOD FOR A WHOLE DIFFERENT KIND OF FAMILY IF YOU DONT DROP THAT POLE AND GET OUT OF HERE! Ill be fine! Just dont tell the guards! Ill only be five more m- the mans sentence was cut off as something splashed at the lines submersion point. Oh! I got a bite! he yelled, starting to reel. IDIOT! LET GO! the barkeep roared, starting to run over. Everyone watched through the door and windows, gasping with horror as a scaly, skeletal hand reached from the water and yanked the line with full force, causing the hungry individual to go flying into the lake, screaming all the way. The barkeep slid to a halt, stomping his foot and cursing loudly. Wyatt gulped. This town was considerably more sinister than hed imagined. Shouldnt someone jump in and save him?... Wyatt asked, ignorantly. A few people quietly replied ...Aint nothing that can save him now. Aye. Hes gone... Farl... Eighth man this cycle... They should just stay away from the water... The tavern owner returned through his door, closing it behind him. He returned to his bar in complete silence, sighing once hed reached it. Stupid moron... They never listen... Why dont they just listen?... Wyatt hung his head, his hand on the mug placed in front of him Sorry. I didnt realise he was at risk, or Id have pointed him out sooner. Im kinda new here... Dont worry about it. You did right in telling me. The bards didnt seem to think it was appropriate to resume the music, and were perhaps waiting until the time was right again. For now, they were talking to each other. The entire mood of the tavern had shifted, understandably. What was a warm atmosphere had now become one of mourning, like the gathering after a funeral. Psst! a familiar voice hushed from the taverns corner. Zachery was sat at a table, beckoning his son over. Wyatt downed the rest of his drink and thanked the barkeep one final time before moving to the chair opposite his fathers and sitting upon it. I think hes ready, Wyatt Zachery said, in a whisper. Wyatt whispered back, instinctively Why the farl are you speaking all hushed like? Youre a ghost, no one else can hear you Because if you whisper to someone, they automatically know to whisper back. Try it on anyone. You need to stay quiet; Im just helping you along the way. ...You got me. I cant actually fault that logic. Wyatt admitted, with a nod. Damn right...Are you bleeding? Did you get in a fight already? It wasnt a fight. I just got punched. Its cool; getting punched is cool. ...Youre an idiot. Like father like son. Shut up for a moment. Ive got a plan to get Darius over to our side. Im all ears.

Chapter Seven Multiculturalism

Fourteen Nights Ago You will learn to appreciate the company of another other than myself for the thirty day journey we have set out upon. Darius is not as steeled as you are. Hes had a more cushy life. Before you state that this is unfair and unbalanced, I can safely say I agree with you. Tradition holds it that an initiate handler, such as myself, sees to two potential Palecallers and observes them as they grow, finally starting to grant them information as they come to the age of roughly twenty four. One of these initiates will grow up in a rough environment. They will likely be out on the edges of the Dry Divide, in the depths of Norvask, or the core of The Everlast Woods, as you were. They tend to be born into poor families. They will learn to live life to its fullest, as every day could be their last, and they will adapt, strengthening their minds, their bodies and their resolve. These Palecallers are the hardest to raise, but the easiest to train. The second initiate will live a life in moderate comfort, or at least as much comfort as Rime can offer. Typically theyll be raised in large towns or even cities such as Sanctus or Valleys End. They will be closed from the wild, and separated from crime. Their families are either well off or wealthy, and their education is usually quite high end. These individuals are very easy to raise, and they give handlers a contingency purpose, should their other initiate perish. They are however, much more delicate, complaintive, and often inexperienced in combat. Intelligence and strength are both essential, of course, and in standard cases, there will be one initiate that excels in one and another in the other. Should these initiates pass the final entry trial, they will be divided into separate groups to cater for alternative learning speeds. Ultimately, you learn the same essential material, but, in most cases, the ones from the life of comfort develop their leyborn skills much faster, while the ones from a life of struggle tend to perform admirably in physical and willpower based training. The instructors at the temple will be able to teach you more of this, better than I can. You may be wondering why a Palecaller would even need skills with a blade or blunt weapon? Its a fair assumption to think that you wont be hitting spirits with them. A sword would pass straight through a ghost, surely? Consider the fact that ghosts are not always your primary concern. Sometimes you may be deployed to stop those who create ghosts; murderers, bandits, maniacs... You will find your blades most effective on your more corporeal adversaries. In addition, you may also find that spirits are not your only objective as a Palecaller. I suppose in similar styles to our enemies, the Wranglers, we are also occasionally tasked with hunting necroborn. Necroborn are far too destructive and far too tormenting to The Pale to be allowed to roam free. Unlike Wranglers, however, we clean up the mess that necroborns have left in their wake. With their ability to snatch life at the slightest glance, they are creators of unfinished business, which causes their victims to linger in our domain. There is one final tradition I need to mention before you wake up. While we are not directly responsible for the near death experience that allows me to communicate with you, we tend to push it in the direction of those with the rough life. It is then customary for those already hardened by this experience... to gift it onto their brother or sister. Ive given you everything you need, son. Open your eyes and carry out the will of Glace.

Present Day Wyatt opened his eyes. The dream had made him black out, temporarily. A few people in the tavern were looking at him with confusion, and his father had vanished before his eyes. Hed not said anything other than Ive got a plan to get Darius over to our side. That must have been the trigger for the dream. Wyatt groaned and rubbed his head as the familiar ache suddenly kicked in. The aftermath of the mental messages was something he didnt think hed ever grow accustomed to. Something glinted into his blurred vision, something small that was lying upon the table that he was still seated at. Shaking his head to regain his focus, he peered down at the small object: It was a bullet; engraved with a tiny silver lizard. It was only at this point that Wyatt realised the bullet was singing. The harmonious chimes of the ivoryon object had been the leech of the taverns attention for who knew how long. Wyatt quickly clapped his hand down upon the metal ball to cease its humming. He gave an apologetic look to those around him before tucking the musket away into his pocket, succeeding in his attempts to not loudly curse his fathers name for lying, again. We wont use bullets. What a load of crap. There were some more objects too that hadnt been there minutes before: a pouch (which turned out to be filled with blasting powder) a map, and instructions. The bullet pointed list Zachery had left was coded, simply to make it sound more innocent, but this hadnt worked; it still screamed a special kind of morbidity in Wyatts buzzing brain. The gift must be given to him and only him. The gift is not meant for the heart, nor mind. It should be a surprise. Should he not like the gift, take it back.

From a quick glance, Wyatt could suss a few things: There needed to be no witnesses, the bullet should not be aimed at incredibly vital organs, he should not inform Darius of the shot, and... the last one was a little confusing, but it seemed to state that should Darius die from the bullet, Wyatt needed to recover it... perhaps because the bullet was so unique it could give the Wranglers evidence of The Palecallers activity. Rook grunted, internally questioning the reason behind using this special bullet and not some normal one, but he would stick to the instructions if that meant he wouldnt be killing him. His emotions raged inside him as he got to his feet and glanced at the map. A single house was circled. It was on the upper shelf... This man did have a cushy life, living up where the mansions and such were built. He considered the way hed barked at Zachery earlier in the day, stating hed not perform this very act. There was no harm in investigating, he thought to himself, tucking the map inside his coat pocket. If the guy was an asshole, it would be quite easy to shoot him. He gave his thanks to the barman once again for the drink and stepped out into the creeping dusk. The sun had disappeared completely over the horizon now, a dim glow reaching from its grave. He readied himself for the walk across pier, confident now, at least, that it could support his weight. He couldnt stop himself from treading lightly and keeping an eye on the murky waters; his survival instinct was just too damn strong. His boots clunked against the planks while the dock life proceeded around him. Some more armoured boats were drifting in from the lake, their metal shells covered in deep, aggressive slashes,

made by claws of hungry abyssei. Some fish flapped in nets, mechanically hauled out from fairly deep in the lake by some manually operated cranes. Some plump, grubby fishermen trundled about, talking in muffled voices through long, matted beards. Just as he was nearing the lower shelf once again, Wyatt caught a weedy looking man trying to creep past him, a fishing rod in his hand. He was making a poor effort of trying to conceal it behind his back, but the pole was bigger than he was. Wyatt let the man pass him, reaching over and plucking the rod from his hand with one quick motion. The man objected H...Hey! I need that! Youll thank me when the water monsters dont eat you Wyatt answered, without turning. He tossed the rod into the lake, just to make sure the man wouldnt try this stunt again. He shouted a series of unsavoury insults in Rooks direction, but he was too high on his morally correct pedestal to even care. Back on Lower Shelf, the crowds had died down a little. People had had a chance to get home from work and reach their desired destinations. Most folk were busy drinking inside bars or spending time with their families now rather than travelling on the streets. There were still people out, and a few guards too (they were handing out public information letters regarding the fenrye defence certified areas). Wyatt counted the amount of times a guard stopped him and asked if he was booked into one of their safe houses. It came up to three before he even found the steps that led up to Central Shelf. The transformation as one passed from one shelf to another was astonishing. The atmosphere changed; the architecture was different, the lighting, the cleanliness of the streets, even the smell seemed finer, with the scent of fish slowly fading with each ascending step. The Central Shelf also had an abundance of large buildings, which the Lower Shelf lacked. There were less shops and market stalls, but there was what looked like a museum or gallery, the town hall and the towering spired church which the guard had directed Rook to earlier. There were more towers and stone constructions dotted around but those were the ones that immediately caught the eyes. Wyatt weaved his way through Central Shelf, occasionally peering at the map Zachery had left him in an attempt to find the stairs upwards to Upper Shelf. In his fixation, he stumbled into a group of middle-class women. He quickly backed away, clearing his throat and going red in the face Sorry... he grumbled. The women peered at Wyatts ravaged outfit, the bullet hole, the blood stains. By now, he smelled pretty foul as well. It took the wrinkling of all the ladies noses to inform him of this fact. ...Thats... Fine... one of the group said, sternly, and disgustedly. ...Do you need medical help? Hm? Oh! Nah. I got shot, but its all good now! naturally, this invoked a negative reaction. The women either gasped or tutted, moving away in a hurried manner. ...Right... Wyatt paused before calling after them Dont spose you know where the stairs goin up are!? His question received an answer, in the form of hysterical laughter. Ah, that feeling you get when people find it funny that you want to interact with the rich. It never got old, or less grating. Feeling much more self-conscious, Rook continued his exploration. The bells of the Church of Driff rang as the last of the sunlight faded from the sky. It was now officially night time, according to the human time system. Vermus only believed it was night when the first of the nocturnal crickets sang. This had sparked many a pointless debate. Bells would chime at human-ran churches like this to signify Dawn, Midday, Dusk and Night. Most daily actions revolved around these four times, and churches/bell towers acted as alarm clocks. These Chimes changed varying on the time of the year. Night was called sooner during Glacenox so people would get back to the warmth of their homes

before the temperatures plummeted to dangerous levels. The split time system was of vermus origin, and not used as frequently, but they divided days into hours based on the time it took for the sun to move through the sky. In these modern times, the common time system was a hybrid of the two, but the most accurate way of telling the exact time in a numeric way was through chronomasters that usually resided within bell towers. Without a device to tell the time, an hour was a matter of guesswork, but many individuals, especially those which required precision in their work, such as criminals, had come to an understanding of the rough length. Faint stars blinked to life in the sky, but it was still fairly light out. The warmth of the day slowly began to fade, forcing Wyatt to pull his coat closed and button it up. He rubbed his aching neck, the pain derived from his constant upwards glances as he tried to navigate his way to the highest shelf of the city. He walked by some more middle class individuals, who didnt pay him much mind now that his blood caked shirt was concealed, and eventually found an elegant marble staircase that led to the Upper Shelf. It was bizarre, as if they were actually trying to capture the aesthetic superiority of those that dwelled above. They must have had some serious egos to set up a flight of steps like this. Annoyingly, the staircase seemed to be under some sort of unofficial supervision. A pair of crooked nosed, fur garbed, pompous looking individuals were stood on the steps, about half way up, leaning against the opposite walls and chatting to one another. One was a man and the other a woman, probably both in their late forties. As Wyatt started his clunking ascent, their well-spoken accents reached his unwelcoming ears Quite, Francesca. I do believe your argument is worth an hour at the city hall Thank you, darling. Alas, I will admit, should our wishes be granted, I would miss our little gettogethers Oh theres no need for sentimentalities! Im sure we share plenty more common interests other than... he stopped, midsentence as he heard Wyatts boots impacting the stone steps. He sneered down his ugly snout at him ...Other than maintaining standards he added, with a serpentine hiss. Wyatt desperately tried to ignore this. On twelve separate occasions in the last five years alone, hed punched a rich person for actin rich and every time hed served a small jail sentence for it, so hed learnt his lesson, just about. Money made things complicated, if in possession of the enemy... or as they liked to call themselves; The victim. Bastards. Hey! Wyatt said, cheerfully. Hed come to the conclusion that acting happy might help him actually be happy Dont spose you kind folk could direct me, some? Im looking for the Lao residence Do you have your community card... the man asked, before adding, with obvious reluctance ...Sir... Uhh no. Im new here. I didnt hear naught about needing a card to get to The Upper Shelf Its a new rule... the woman named Francesca, apparently, stated, disgustedly. Im afraid youll have to return to your... hole... she pointed her carrot shaped nose back down the way Wyatt had come from. A metaphorical strike one rung through Wyatts conscience before he persevered Look. Im a welcome guest. He invited me... and... frankly, you folk dont look like the type to uphold rules... Something going on here? If you dont have your community card, you cannot enter... Francesca snapped. Wyatt sighed. As he fought to find an argument to bypass the shelfs perimeter, a single, well dressed man walked up the steps. Without a word from anyone, he strolled straight past, and disappeared onto The Upper Shelf. ...Why didnt he need a card?... Wyatt asked, blinking.

Because hes not riffraff... the man replied. Strike two, thought Wyatt. Only get one more, buddy. This is just bigot farling quishcrap. Urgh! Such vile language. Please remove yourself from our sights. That was it. He had to do it. A night in a prison cell would be worth this, surely? Surely?! Whats going on here?... A new voice asked. Wyatt turned around to see a tall man, wearing an elegant tailcoat and a tall top hat, holding a steel tipped cane in white gloved hands and presenting a mighty ginger handlebar moustache above his lips. Are you two harassing this young man?... ...No sir... We were just asking for his card.... The man, evidently of some significance, rolled his eyes and scoffed The cards? Again? Have them collected from every man, woman and child you have distributed them to. I will not have enforced elitism in my city. ...Yes... Sir... they both groaned, skulking off to carry out their command. Wyatt smiled gratefully at the moustached gentleman Thanks... Uh... Sir... New in town, hm? The man asked. His accent was diluted but Wyatt could tell hed come from a similar background to his own. That I am. Im here visiting some folk, but I neglected to askem where they are actual held up. I see the man answered, intrigued by the looks of things. Well, I know every soul in this here city. Throw me their names The Laos Wyatt said. Ha! Well youre headed in the right direction then. They are practically my neighbours. Come on, stick with me. Looking like that on The Upper Shelf will only find you trouble if you walk the streets on your lonesome. Much obliged, sir. Call me Charlie. I only make people I dislike address me by my title. He walked past Wyatt, tapping him with the stub of his cane Come on then! Wyatt smirked and followed as they headed onto The Upper Shelf. The scenery again transformed. The heavenly ascend stone staircase was appropriate in a way, and the architecture continued in a similar fashion. Most buildings were made from white stone or marble with masterfully crafted statues and pillars on virtually every building. Small pools of water with intricate fountains and features dotted the streets, surrounded by or filled with flowers and lilies. ...How is the water moving? Wyatt said with fascination as they past one of these fountains Theres a vermus sanctuary below the streets. Charlie began They maintain, clean and refresh the citys water supply using our machines, and while they operate them, we get a little feedback on the surface which we decided to display in public sight. Most folk just think its an aesthetic boost, but Ill admit, I like to look at it and remember what the little guys are doing to help us. Are they paid?... Wyatt asked Oh, of course! Although they do operate the machines in turns and also do it for their own benefit. They need water too, more so than us. The air was clean and the streets werent nearly as crowded. It was clear that most people never got to this stage on the economic ladder. The wealth in these families had likely been passed down for generations.

You from the South, son? Charlie asked as they proceeded. From Fern, yeah. Fern, eh? I used to shop there. I know what its like to drag yourself up from the bottom. This city has been here a lot longer than I have, and folk werent that welcoming to me neither when I first showed up, but as soon as you fall into wealth, you fall into power, and once you show them what you can do with the little power youre gifted with... well... he gestured down to the rest of Lakebank, which was gleaming in the night I dont think shes ever looked finer So youre some sort of... donor? Something like that. He stopped and looked around Uh... Ah, here we are. He pointed his cane at a beautiful manor house with a front porch fit for a palace, stained glass windows and even a spire which reached high into the darkening sky. Thats Laos place. Friend of Dariuss? Yeah. Were uh... he gestured to himself and smirked Were proof that opposites match Charlie chuckled, twirling his cane I see! Well then, enjoy your stay. Oh and, its a Bloodmoon tonight, so make sure youre inside. Its just a security protocol enforced by The Pact but its got some merits, so please do as they ask Ive already booked myself into the church... But thanks. A few shadows moved at one of the windows of Laos house, and a face stared out. Its eyes widened and it ducked out of sight as Wyatt stared back at it. Yall be safe now, and dont take none of that self aggrandising nonsense from the locals. Charlie said, as he strolled off, swinging his cane merrily in his gloved fingers and whistling a tune once his sentence was completed. Wyatt thanked his lucky stars before turning towards his goal. He assumed that Lao had seen him coming. If he was in the same boat as Rook was, there was a good chance he would know things from the recollected dreams Zachery had gifted them with. From the sounds of it, however, based on the fact Rook wasnt allowed to tell Lao he was about to get shot, that little chunk of information had been left out. He approached the porch and pranced up the wooden steps that led to the mighty door, which was decorated with an ornate geometric pattern. He checked his coat and weapons quickly, making sure his holster and sheathes were out of sight, before gripping a krondor* shaped doorknocker and banging it against the mahogany surface. He then stood back, and waited. It took about ten seconds before he heard the clip clop of well crafted shoes on the doors flipside. It swung open, revealing a scowling look of disapproval, pasted onto the face of a perfectly postured, suited butler, with a miniscule silver moustache and a balding head. Like Charlie, he was also wearing white gloves ...The Laos are not interested in donations... he said, opulently. Wyatt didnt have time to open his mouth before the door slammed shut in his face. He sighed and knocked again, louder this time. The servant appeared once more Sir, continue to harass the residents, and I shall be forced to call the city guards... Im here to see Darius, jackass. Wyatt growled. Diplomacy was not a strong point of his. Now is he in, or aint he? * Krondor are the second largest creatures on Rime. They are enormous birds of prey; with a wing span often over sixty metres. They nest in the mountainous regions of The Scarred Lands, the homeland of the fenrye, and possess enough strength in their wing beats and talons to level entire towns to the ground. They are one of the few beasts feared by the fenrye themselves.

...Master Lao is not expecting guests. If you speak the truth, I suggest visiting on a day in which you have informed him of your later arrival. I aint gonna be here on another day. Go and tell Darius that-... He was interrupted by a new voice, which came from the top of an elegant curved staircase in the grand foyer. That will not be necessary! A figure began to move down the steps, garbed in bright, almost royal colours; reds and shades of gold building up hundreds of tiny diamond shaped details which reached down the length of a long, split tailed coat. A crimson shawl was wrapped around his head, covering most of his pitch black short hair. His skin was a light caramel brown in colour. His leggings, no doubt made from silk, were a glistening sandy gold, and he wore fancy snake skin shoes. He reached the base of the staircase, setting his amber iris eyes upon Wyatt as he strolled over Move aside, Clarke. Go check on supper. He said. He had quite an interesting accent. Based on his outfit, and his skin colour, it was probable his family came here from Preciphilie; a now nonexistent city that was destroyed when The Dry Divide rose from the seas nearly four hundred years ago. The butler bowed his arrogant little head At once, sir... he said, shuffling off, leaving Wyatt still standing in the doorway. Darius walked confidently towards Rook, stopping a few feet in front of him and leaning against the doorframe, eyeing him up and down. Wyatt raised his eyebrows, instantly feeling a little uncomfortable, but backed away when Darius doubled over, and twitched. ...Uh... Hey... Are you ok? Rook asked, with a hint of concern. Darius shrunk to his knees and gripped the ground with his hands, his knuckles paling a little. Wyatt helpfully nudged the man with his boot ...Uh... Lao?.... Are you... sick? he persisted, giving another few gentle kicks. After roughly thirty seconds, Lao stopped quivering and got to his feet. He looked a little drained, but smiled none the less Welcome. I suppose Ive been expecting you... Wyatt blinked and pointed at the floor What the farl was all that about?! Oh... the dreams... Yes, I havent quite got used to them yet... Wyatts eyes widened THATS WHAT I DO? Every time I have one of the brain punching dreams, I shake like a farling jelly?! He covered his face Ah crap... people saw me do that... Dariuss smile faded a little, shifting with his expectations ...You are the envoy of The Pale?... Youre not... quite what I expected... he peered at the battered Rook You must have journeyed long to meet me... I did... a whole day... GONE... A whole day in... blood caked clothes and... mind numbing boredom. Darius frowned ...A day?... Thats it?... Are you not my guide? Wyatt snorted Guide? Oh you must be thinking about my dead father! Yeah we do look a little alike. But no, I dont stand in the corner of kids bedrooms and shh them with my finger. Because Im not an ass, see. Lao looked confused, giving Wyatt the impression he hadnt experienced this. ...The dream I just had... he began It said you would unlock the potential within me to become a warden of the spirits... To protect the world! To serve a great cause! The dreams have opened my eyes, brother! Wyatt stared with eyes that were likely considerably more open than Laos were ...Wow... Youre fiercely enthusiastic about this, huh? Of course! Arent you? We get to become something of myths and legends! We get to access a power- Reserved only for the Gods... yeah, I heard that crap too.

You must come in! And tell me of my goal! I have waited eagerly for this day! Come! Come! I shall find you some better clothes! Please make use of our water and cleanse yourself of the journey so far! The real adventure begins now! With that, he grabbed Wyatts arm and pulled him like a rag doll through the door. He went along with it, too bewildered to do anything else. ...Youre a lot... better at this than I was... He began as Lao yanked him up the marble staircase like a child wanting to show his best friend a new toy. Begin, brother! What is our first step?! he said, before theyd even entered a room, moving swiftly down a long carpeted corridor with decorative mahogany panels lining the walls. ...I uh... I can explain along the way! Were gonna be travelling for about twenty five to thirty days.... Ah yes! The adventure shall not be a short one. This comes as no surprise to me! The Voice said I should be prepared for arduousness! ...Prepared for what? Darius ignored the question, skidding to a halt outside one of the corridors many wooden doors. Here! This is the bathroom. Please make use of it how you see fit. I am sure you are in dire need of refreshment! Oh! Are you hungry, brother? Wyatt was not hesitant with a response Im starving... to be honest... Of course! Of course! I shall fetch you a meal and a change of attire before I pack. Please! he pushed open the door, revealing a glinting, bedroom sized bathroom with a clawed-footed bathtub, shell shaped sinks, golden bordered mirrors and an intricate but intelligently designed shower cubical (something that was actually quite rare in Rime). Even the toilet looked elegant, with a reflective jet seat covering it. Something about the room made Wyatt a little uncomfortable, but he wouldnt deny the fact that he did need a wash. He stepped inside, and his grimy presence seemed to downgrade the entire rooms ostentation. I shall return shortly. Ill knock. Darius said, before shutting the door behind Wyatt and scampering off. Rook was once again alone, with nothing to keep him company except the eight or so reflections he could spot of himself from the various polished surfaces. Perfect. He tentatively approached the classy shower unit. He wasnt a technophobe, but hed barely been exposed too much of the new developments of the last two centuries. Fern had been small enough to stay out of the sights of the rich, and towns simply didnt progress with the rest of the world if they didnt have the cash to fund it. He slid off the sleeper fur coat, and dusted it down, hanging it on one of the railings that were conveniently hung beside the shower door, which, incidentally, became the next focal point. He tugged the handle and slid it open, reaching inside and turning a few taps, cautiously. He jumped back as water began to gush from the perforated head in miniscule streams. After a few seconds, it did begin to look slightly inviting, so he set about unbuttoning his shirt. Well this is inappropriate... Wyatt jumped and pulled his shirt closed, twisting around to glare at his father who had annoyingly materialised by the door. What the farl is wrong with you!? Hey, I stopped you, didnt I? Come on, Im not that perverted. He smirked and pointed a thumb at the door behind him Hes fun, isnt he? Very optimistic. Very open minded. Itll help him in some ways and hinder in others. Hes the perfect match for you, really... almost like a polar opposite. You can learn from each other. Unless I kill him

Follow my instructions and I can almost guarantee that wont happen. Wyatt scoffed, snatching the written instructions from the hanging coats pocket and holding it up This is cryptic and stupid. Why not just tell me exactly what I have to do instead of making me guess?! When you speak to Echoes of The Pale, they speak entirely in language simpletons cannot understand. Everything they say is cryptic, or suggestive, or obscure or abstract. You need to learn to interpret this language... besides that, its helpful if I get called away and cant verbally aid you... but at the same time, its coded to an extent a wrangler might not be able to understand. Its a safety precaution and a teaching method. Wyatt muttered and stuffed the note back into the pocket. ...You told me earlier today that we wouldnt use bullets. Those were your exact words! he held up the loaded ivoryon pistol What do ya think this thing actually does? What I gave you to shoot was not a bullet. It is much more advanced. He has a substantially better chance than you did... Now no more details about the mission. You need to interpret it without my guidance. Wyatt sighed. He holstered the gun and turned away. After a moment, he glanced over his shoulder to Zachery and his mind strayed back to a minor detail he noticed upon meeting Darius a few minutes ago ...Hes never seen you before, has he? Zachery shook his head Hes only heard the dreams. ...Can he see you? I mean like... now? No. The reason you could see me, but not hear me before you were shot is due to our connection. Im your father... so that makes it easier. The Callers can explain it better than I can, but needless to say, your second sight is not fully developed yet. The only two ghosts youve ever seen are mine and Astons... and youll likely not see many more until you are trained. He backed towards the door Ill be watching you, but youre on your own now. ...Im gonna use this shower thing... could you maybe not watch me for the next five minutes? ....I can do that.... Zachery said with a creepy smirk. ...Get out of here, for farls sake! Go! Zachery chuckled and reversed through the door, disappearing from sight. It took about three minutes before Rook gathered up the bravery to undress and make use of the steaming shower. He would peer out into the bathroom through the glass walls every few minutes to relieve himself of the feeling that someone was watching. By the time he stepped out, his eyes were stinging and red from being overly observant. He felt rejuvenated, however, and excited at the prospect that he may own one of these contraptions at this secluded fortress. He glanced to his scarred body in the foggy mirror before wrapping a snatched towel around it and drying himself down. There was a knock at the door, followed by a womans voice, who must have been one of the house servants Sir! Ive been directed to bring you some clothes. Where would you like them? Just chuckem through the door. The door creaked open very slightly and some fine silk and cotton clothing was stacked just on the other side. Wyatt strolled over, barefooted, eyeing them closely. There was a linen brown shirt with a silk lining within and some practical but slightly baggy belted trousers, a sort of light beige in colour. There was also a pair of socks and some underwear. He had brought many clothes with him, which were currently in a suitcase aboard the carriage, but none of them were as high quality as these. He eagerly threw them on, marvelling at how smooth they fitted and how light and comfortable they were. He was used to leather or hide outfits that

weighed him down as he moved, but this attire was totally unrestricting. He pulled on his sleeper coat over the shirt and stepped into his boots, lacing them up. He replaced the belt on the offered trousers with the one his father had left him with the multiple pouches, holsters and slots and then finally, threw his scarf on around his neck. He glanced at his reflection once again, briefly, grinned, and stepped out of the slightly misty bathroom. He was met with a wheeled cart that had been parked just outside. A warm, delicious looking torruto fish steak was sat atop a salad garnished plate. It had been left there, unattended, so naturally he assumed it was for him. He dug into the meal with the knife and fork provided, internally thanking whatever force had decided he could be pampered in such a way. The food was as good as it looked, and once again Wyatt experienced a quality of something hed never even imagined. He wolfed the fish down, a ridiculous smile on his stuffed face. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a door opening on the far end of the corridor and Darius emerged from it, dragging a large case behind him. I have packed, and I am ready! he called down as he approached. The case appeared to have tiny wheels on the rear end, so it wasnt giving him much hassle. Wyatt straightened up, having cleared the plate and gave Lao the thumbs up Sounds good. Lets get out of here. Indeed. I didnt tell my family I was leaving. The Voice stated I would be better off just disappearing, for the sake of their safety and for ours. ...Yeah... gotta love that Voice... You said he was your father?! Thats fascinating! Its pronounced irritating... But sure, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I spose... he turned and began to approach the stairs Shall we? he added, ensuring that Darius was following. Certainly. Let the quest begin! ...Yeah... he was starting to get on Wyatts nerves now. Not a good start, he thought; they hadnt even left the damn building yet. About fifteen minutes had passed since Rook had entered the mansion, and already the night had settled quite firmly. The darkness was only bolstered by the fact that clouds had crept overhead, black, foreboding clouds which practically shouted the words RAIN SOON!. Lumina didnt have much rain, but it had a few warm storms each year. The door swung shut behind Lao and he and Rook moved down the front porchs steps, the suitcase clunking loudly with each abrupt drop. Torch bearers were moving about the streets, lighting hanging lanterns and a few braziers in the larger, open areas. Warm orange glows from each light source were a welcome addition to the inky blackness of Rimes eventide. Cmon. I wanna be back at my cart before those clouds sing their songs Wyatt ushered, starting his hurried march into The Upper Shelf. Lao followed hastily Right. Oh, by the way... Wasnt that the mayor you were talking to earlier? I think I saw you through the window Wyatt blinked as he walked ...I guess it was. I didnt really ask. Im surprised you got along so well. On all accounts, hes... not a nice man. Corrupted, even... hes got deals with some of the criminal gangs that use The Lower Shelf as a base... Wyatt shrugged (even shrugging felt good in these new clothes) He were real helpful and very friendly. Said he didnt want no elitism in his town. Folk seemed to listen to him.

Thats because they are scared of him... hes so inconsistent but they agree with anything he says... Did you notice how they all call him Sir? He gets furious if you- He let me call him Charlie. Darius fell silent, gawking a little as the two of them walked side by side. ...That aint that weird, is it? ...Thats... he stopped, sighed and shook his head No... No... I suppose not. Like I said... hes inconsistent. Still though... When I saw you together, I instantly knew it was you, that you were my guide. The Voice described you perfectly, right down to your clothes. I assumed you had perhaps worked some sort of... leyborn cast upon him to make him compliant. Heh. Id be careful where you open your mouth regardin such things. Ive seen plenty of wranglers in town today. I didnt do a thing to earn his hospitality... Guess Im just charmin The pair of them walked past the large fountain theyd moved by earlier. The streets were empty now; it hadnt taken long for folk to get off them. It wasnt silent, as one could just about make out the sound of small crowds milling about below, and some muffled voices within the walls of the many buildings the two of them passed by. Quiet night? Wyatt asked, as they reached the first set of descending stone steps. Indeed. Darius replied, lifting his case up rather than pulling it down with him Its always like this upon Blood Moon nights. Its a little risky to be walking around on the streets right now, to be honest. The guards will arrest us on sight and transport us to one of the certified buildings Wyatt scratched his chin in thought, slowly moving down the steps into Middle Shelf That aint so bad. Worst case scenario, we spend the night at a church or whatever. I believe the worst case scenario is getting torn apart by fenrye... Wyatt chuckled and gave an acknowledging but slightly cynical nod Mhm, I guess so. Although I doubt thatll happen. They only hit Lakeside recently, didnt they? Usually they keep their operations spread out... Lakebank is very well defended. Besides... I am well aware that this emprise will be perilous. I am ready to accept whatever foe fate can conjure. Wyatt nodded, turning his head a little and muttering irritably under his breath Keep talkin like that and fates gonna conjure you a foe right here They moved through the Middle Shelf, slowly, occasionally ducking behind barrels and moving into alleyways to avoid Wolfbane Pact patrols. Wyatt was used to this, being a thief for over a decade, and yet he was pleasantly surprised at the rich boys competence when it came to stealthily performing actions. He had a good eye for windows of opportunity, often moving before Wyatt was confident enough to do so. Zachery was right, he was optimistic, and for now, it seemed to be working. There was a likelihood however that at some stage, his bold actions would get him into trouble. The pair of them circumvented a few guard patrols. They were only in small groups, usually twos or threes, vigilantly maintaining order, usually equipped with rifles and spears. Some commanding barks could occasionally be audible in the distance; mostly from The Lower Shelf where discipline would be trickier to uphold due to the local attitude. Wyatt and Darius crossed the Middle Shelf without detection, and, as they reached the steps leading down once more, the torrent held back by the stones of the cloudy dyke above could be held back no more. A vicious downpour barraged the city. It struck incredibly quickly, making Wyatt swear loudly and pull his hood up. Darius calmly held his suitcase above his head, using it as a sort of shield. His upper body strength was quite impressive, Wyatt noted. It was another aspect he found a little odd, based on this mans upbringing. They moved into the murky streets of The Lower Shelf. These werent

nearly as well lit, and if they had been, the rain had made quick work of any sort of exposed light, extinguishing flames in seconds. The familiar fishy smell returned as the two shadows darted from cover point to cover point. It didnt take long for Rook to find his bearings, and from there, to locate the main road which he had used before. Unfortunately, upon peeking around the corner from a shadowed alleyway, two wranglers were revealed to be guarding this road. In truth, they were just chatting to each other, the rain dripping in a constant stream from the brims of their large hats. Darius made a few hand gestures to get Rooks attention. He then pointed to an empty ale bottle that was at Rooks feet, before pointing to another alleyway opposite theirs. Rook nodded and scooped the muddy bottle up. With all his strength, Rook hurled the bottle beyond the wranglers stationed point. It shattered upon impact, and they both turned towards the noise, pulling out one handed crossbows. Rook and Darius quickly dashed to the other previously indicated to alley and proceeded down it before the wranglers had time to realise it was a distraction. The smell grew stronger, which suggested they were closing in on the docks. The stables were near the docks, so this was a good sign. The two of them emerged from the closed in backstreet onto a wider road, which was totally empty. The road was familiar, as hed driven his carriage down it to reach the stable. It was virtually a straight line from here. The lake was just about in sight between a final line of houses. Voices were rattling from a nearby guard station, which had a certificate pasted to the front door (it was likely filled with sheltering citizens). Wyatt beckoned Darius to follow. The two of them slowly and steadily proceeded down the road, eyeing every lane, every window, every street that broke away from this one. The stables came into sight through the thick veil of rain, and Wyatt let out a sigh of relief. He turned to Darius and whispered There was a guard posted up ahead a few hours back. Watch yourself. Darius simply nodded in response, and the two of them crept closer. There was a small disturbance to the approach from Wyatts flank as Darius lost his footing and tumbled to the floor, his suitcase clunking beside him, loudly. Oi! Watch yourself! Wyatt hissed, ducking low and rushing over to help the man up ...I tripped over something.. Lao excused, pointing as their combined efforts got him back on his feet. Wyatt turned to see what he assumed to be a drunken man, sleeping on the street. Idiot... he muttered ...How the farl did he snooze through that?... He crept closer, poking the man. It was at this point that he noticed a trickle of sanguine flowing with the water carried by the rain. He frowned, and pulled the prone mans shoulder, rolling him onto his back. His eyes widened in horror as he registered his condition. The mans throat was cut, brutally. His eyes were wide, frozen in a state of complete terror. This was not the mark of a common criminal. ...Divines.... Wyatt whispered, placing a hand on the hilt of his blades ...I know what did this. He quickly turned to Darius Get to the cart. ...Shouldnt we tell the g- We aint staying. Get to the cart. Keep your head down. Ill cover you. Darius nodded and ran on ahead, with Wyatt fairly close on his tail, cautiously scanning every miniscule detail of his surroundings. As they moved, a woman shrieked in the distance. Her scream was cut short, like someone pulling the needle off a record. This caused a small amount of discernible commotion with the patrolling guards, but no shots had yet been fired. Rook and Darius rushed into the enclosed stable at the roads end and Wyatt immediately led Darius to his own carriage. The woolorths had not been

harmed, and they seemed grateful at their new owners return. At the same time, however, they seemed incredibly restless; as did every other woolorth in the stable. Wyatt twirled around, spotting another patch of crimson which stretched along the cobbled stone, as if its creator had been dragged. It led to a stained pile of hay which had a pair of legs sticking out from it, and a rifle at its base. Another scream sounded out, male this time. There was a single gunshot, before silence returned. Darius shivered, packing his suitcase into the carriages open back. Dont be afraid... Rook warned. He continued to survey the area, daggers now firmly clasped in his hands They thrive in fear... He looked over his shoulder, briefly Get in. Ill drive. Wait. Darius sprinted to the bloodied haystack, and snatched the rifle from the floor. He checked its chamber to ensure it hadnt been fired and then jogged back, climbing up onto the passenger seat as Wyatt moved into the drivers. Im with you he said, almost heroically. Wyatt didnt argue. He shook the reins, and the woolorths responded with a slow and careful trot. They were terrified; every single one of their muscles conveyed it. Paranoia started to grow in Rooks mind. Every shadow seemed alive to him as the cart trundled loudly down the road. Every rain drop that hit his head could just have well been a bullet or thrown spear. He pulled his hood down to maximise his peripheral vision, shaking the reins repeatedly Cmon. Cmon! You can move faster than this. The woolorths refused to cooperate. The first rumble of thunder rolled through the city, and horribly, as this happened, Wyatt could just about make out the screams of perhaps four others. They were timing their attacks with the storm. The surroundings darkened further as they moved through the more industrial part of The Lower Shelf, with tall smoke stacks on either side and many currently unused carts and barrels lying as perfect ambush points along both pavements. Visibility was reduced even more. They could have been mere meters from doom and theyd have no idea. Darius sniffed the air, and paled. Wyatt gripped his daggers What?... he asked. Darius blinked and looked at Wyatt Wet dog... he said. They both froze, before slowly turning around. There was nothing there. ...Dont scare me like that, man... Wyatt said. ...I swear I smelt it. Ill keep an eye on the back and- The woolorths stopped, instantly. They whinnied and reared. Wyatt and Darius stared forward to see what had upset them. Again, there was nothing. Cmon! CMON! Dumb animals! Wyatt shook the reins, lashing them aggressively. The woolorths did not budge an inch. They stared fearfully at the shadows before them. They had stopped between two towering factory buildings, with crates stacked up on both sides of the road. Rook and Lao peered at the boxes, suspiciously while trying to keep an eye on everything else at the same time. There was a flash of lightning, which illuminated something glinting in the darkness in one of the factorys doorways. As the thunder crashed in, Wyatts eyes widened and he tackled Darius, forcing him from the carriages seat. The pair of them hit the ground as a primitive spear hurtled over their heads and impaled itself in the brick wall. Run! Get to the docks! Wyatt shouted, pulling Darius to his feet and sprinting with him towards the lake. They vaulted over the walls that divided the jetties and docks from the rest of the town and ran to one of the boats that was anchored and tied inshore. They slid to a halt at the post with the thick shipping rope tied around it, and Darius began to unravel the knots. Wyatt stared towards the city, which was barely visible through the rain

They can only come from one direction here...I think Wyatt began Ill keep an eye out. Just get that thing mobile... Im working on it... Darius worriedly stuttered. Wyatt fixed his vision forward, pulling out his pistol. This was an emergency. Shooting Lao would have to wait. The bullet could be used for a greater purpose. For what seemed like an eternity, Wyatt watched and Darius worked on freeing the bound vessel. Eventually, however, Wyatts expectations were confirmed. A large, clawed paw stepped through the thick pouring shroud and slammed down onto the wooden jetty. It was followed by the haunch of the other leg, then the tip of a vicious looking sword. A pair of malicious but dutiful eyes gleamed outwards, a fanged muzzle just beneath them. The lupine creature stepped into sight, his silver fur dripping, his armour light and simple, more like a harness than anything. His shoulders were broad, his muscles displayed, tribal paintings inked onto his limbs. He span the sword in his hand and jammed it into the jetty, leaning on it, and waiting, expectantly, staring at the barrel of the gun. Too late, Rook realised what this meant. He twirled around very quickly to see a second beast pouncing. He flew backwards, slamming against the wood, his pistol clattering to the floor. He tried to get up and fight back with his blade, but was no match. The monster tackled him with full force, and the two of them disappeared into the liquid graveyard that was Shiftlake. Rook could hardly tell if his eyes were open or not. It was so dark beneath the lakes surface. He hadnt inhaled before hed fallen, and he panicked, kicking to reach the surface. The clawed grip of the fenrye snapped around his ankle and he was pulled down. Wyatt tried to lunge his dagger at the fenryes chest, but his attack was halted by the beasts free hand. The fenrye dragged Wyatt to his level, so they were staring face to face. He stared, calmly holding his breath, as Wyatt struggled. Wyatts eyes stung, but he stared back. His lungs started to scream in agony, and what little vision he had began to blur even more. Still the fenrye stared. There was no smile, no enjoyment, it was the look of someone who believed what he was doing was right. Wyatt stopped struggling, eventually, accepting his fate. Bubbles spewed from his mouth as he tried to bark out some last words to at least give his death some significance. He couldnt. The pain was unbearable now, and he felt his consciousness fading. Then something moved by behind the warrior, like a speeding bullet. Glowing insectoid eyes surrounded the fenrye, and for the first time, a look of fear appeared on his face. A crustaceous claw clamped on the beasts shoulder, and in one quick movement, and a gargled yelp, he was pulled off into the black. A single abyssei floated before Wyatt, with its skeletal, plated body, its fishy tail and its insect head and limbs. It raised its crab-like claw towards Wyatts neck, before clicking its mandibles and grabbing him instead by the throat with its much more human hand. With some heavy tail flicks, it pulled Wyatt upwards, until it breached the surface. Wyatt gasped for air, and he felt his vision restoring. He coughed and almost vomited, reaching up to support himself on the wooden supports of the jetty. The water rippled around him with the impact of the rain drops. The abyssei had vanished. Why had it spared him? He climbed up onto the wooden walkways once again, to spot Darius pinned against the wall of the boat by a third fenrye. The one with the sword was still watching. The new one was snapping at Dariuss head, but he was holding it back with the rifle hed acquired. Wyatt crawled to his fallen pistol, and held it up. He examined it quickly; the powder within was still fairly dry, miraculously. Do what you must, my son. Ive given you all the tools you need.

Rook took a few deep inhalations, steadying the weapon in his quivering hand. He only had one chance. Do it now, or he will be lost to us Wyatts eyes narrowed and he muttered, lowly Cold Dark take you... He pulled the trigger. The ivoryon pistol sung a harmonic chime as its barrel vibrated with the shot. The beautifully engraved silver bullet hit the fenrye in the back, burst through his torso and went straight into the lung of Darius. The fenrye instantly fell to the ground, deceased, while Darius staggered, before crumpling to his knees. He gave Rook a pained, questioning look, and then collapsed. Wyatt held his own chest, the pain not quite gone yet. He tried to tell Darius hed be ok, but he couldnt raise his volume above the previous utter. The idle fenrye watched with Wyatt, as Dariuss body was slowly encased in a tomb of perfect ice. Notably, his wound began to glow, and the bullet seemed to be pushed out, where it remained, trapped in the block as he was. ...Dremtra krel nok gor... the fenrye growled, with a slight smirk ...You shot... poorly... Wyatt spat on the floor, straightening to his full height. He took a few deep breaths, recovering his composure, and an ounce of his strength. ...By honoured law of Eonfeygorl... I challenge you, son of Whitehowl Wyatt said, quite uncharacteristically. It was words taught to everyone born in this era. It was the only way to ensure a fenrye fights fairly, and alone. The brute looked at his claws, prying his blade from the wooden planks below and pointing its tip towards Wyatt You face Huntmaster Trelgarth. Wyatt steadied himself as best he could, readying the single dagger in his hand, his other arm too limp to act. Trelgarth snarled and charged, his feral form moving at a phenomenal rate. He slashed the blade down, missing by inches as Wyatt rolled to the side. The beast twirled around with a horizontal slash, which Wyatt ducked, before directing an upper cut with the daggers edge at the fenryes chin. The huntmaster weaved back, expertly, using the momentum to form a two handed overhead slash. Wyatt jumped back, but the blade was long enough to catch his cheek. A fairly deep wound opened on his face, which distracted him long enough to receive a mighty kick to his chest which knocked the human onto his back. Wyatt rolled just in time to avoid the blade slicing him in half. It dug into the wood, and as the fenrye struggled to recover it, Wyatt went for his haunches with the dagger, just as hed done with Grieves goon. His signature attack however failed, as the fenrye simply backhanded Rook, giving up on his sword and instead switching to his three inch long claws. Wyatt shook away his daze, backing away briefly before lunging again. He was immediately disarmed with a few precise, well executed moves, and his arm was pulled into a lock. Wyatt struggled against the fenrye, but his consciousness was challenged once again as Trelgarth head butted him hard and released his arm. Wyatt stumbled backwards and fell to the floor again. The heavy paw of the huntmaster thudded down onto his chest, pinning him there. Wyatt stared up, his vision swaying like he was drunk. Trelgarth pulled a free short blade from his bracer Die well, son of Sovreignous... Wyatt shook his head. No, not this time. Hed accepted his death too many times in the last few days. Without even thinking, he raised his palm towards Trelgarth and roared. A pulse of bleak energy lurched from his open hand, and the fenrye flew backwards, slamming to the wooden floor, where he moved no more. The fenrye was dead, some of the rippling darkness from Wyatts cast crawling from his corpse and dissolving into the night. Instantly, voices started whispering in his mind, unwelcome voices. Dark memories and murderous thoughts clawed at his very soul, and he had to focus to push it away. He lay there, for a moment, battling with his own brain until, eventually, he felt the struggle was over. The voices were quelled, and normality was restored.

Zachery appeared over him, looking very concerned. The rain fell through his ethereal form, through his expression of fear and doubt. He knelt beside Wyatt, and said in almost unfamiliar, sorrowful voice, ...Son... What... did you do?... Wyatt stared up at his father before grinning quite darkly and chuckling I won...

Chapter Eight Opposites

Eighteen Nights Ago What is it about guilt that is so important? Guilt is one of the few things that draws lines in the sand upon the beach of morality. It keeps your actions in check, and sets the bar between right and wrong... but it does it personally. A man can kill, and feel no guilt. Does that make killing right? Most likely, no. Right and wrong, good and evil, its all subjective. Granted, the masses will often adhere to certain rules and laws to prevent things they think is classed as evil, branding those who cross the boundaries as criminals... but again, even then, it is still subjective to culture, and to the individual. The fenrye kill each other all the time, for honour and glory, for revenge and hate. They possess these rights. Does that make it right for them? They certainly feel no guilt. The guilt you feel now is what triggered this recollection, and it is no doubt the result of you pulling your new initiate friend to the edge of life, a place where you, assuming all plans have gone correctly, have already visited. But is what you did wrong, my son? Should you feel guilt? Personally, I dont think so. You are acting with the knowledge from your memories, and from the information I have passed down to you. You know he has a better chance than a normal man would, due to his ley, and most importantly, I can safely reveal to you now that using an ivoryon bullet is something that almost guarantees his safety. Palecallers are synced with ivoryon. It was designed for us, by us. Your weapons are all forged from this precious metal, and once youve learnt to harness the ley within you fully, you will find that these weapons are superb conduits for your abilities. When you are struck by ivoryon bullets, your powers respond much faster and much more efficiently. Darius was at risk, yes. If youd hit his heart, or even his head, you would have likely killed him. Sometimes, initiates dont respond well to ivoryon, and the process fails to trigger... You utilized your cryoborn potential with sheer force of will alone, and of course with my direction. Darius lacked the upbringing you have. Hes strong, but not as strong. He needed the ivoryon to help. The bullet has been extracted upon entry, and the blood loss totally minimised. The wound will close before he thaws, because an ivoryon weapon made it. Its morbid, I know, that The Palecallers have crafted a weapon type purely for the sake of using on ourselves, but you need to remember that we practically thrive in morbidity. You are more powerful the closer to the grave you loom, and the frequency of which you do so. Youve done a great thing, Wyatt. Youve opened a mans eyes, and thanks to you, assuming he pulls through, of course... he will be able to finally see me, and hear me, in a much more lucid way than this. So dont feel guilty. Youve done nothing wrong, in any culture. Youve not killed, or attempted to kill, youve blessed a young initiate with his true future. Youve set him on the path of aptitude, strength and sacred service. Try to understand that now, as during your training... theres a strong chance you will be asked to perform similar actions upon those you may even grow attached to, and not just once, either. After all, you will never be strong enough. One thing all Palecallers have in common, in the end... They always want more.

Present Day Wyatts eyelids flickered open. He barely remembered dragging himself and the frozen Darius back to the cart with Zacherys guidance. He stared dizzily up at the carriages internal ceiling, before sighing and rubbing his head. The bumps of the carriages trundling had left a mark on his scalp while hed slept. These bed rolls were incredibly uncomfortable. Rook rolled onto his side, peering at the crystalline tomb which was lying opposite him among the ration filled crates. Lao was encased within, and hadnt moved an inch. The betrayed, saddened look in his open eyes shook Wyatt to the core. His fathers message had not helped. No matter how he looked at it, hed still shot a fellow man. He had no remorse for the fenrye, however. Its not like they were people, hed convinced himself. His cheek stung where the fenrye had cut it, but, when examining it with his finger, he concluded it was no longer bleeding, at least. Just another scar to represent another day on Rime. He must have dried out during his down time. His clothes were no longer soaking wet from his little dip in the lake. The cart was on the move, peculiarly. Woolorths were very good at long distance travelling, and could be trained to continue their trek without supervision or guidance, assuming it was a straight road. Wyatt decided to investigate, regardless of this. Who knew how long the woolorths had been marching, unattended? They could be anywhere by now. He pushed himself to his feet, freezing as a few hushed whispers pierced his mind. It was like an icy hand had stroked a cold finger across his brain. The voices and horrible sensation attacked him for no more than a few seconds, before passing. He made out a few words, mostly Kill and Destroy and a number of other inauspicious verbs. He wobbled a little as the carriage hit a small rock and a tremor rumbled through it, but maintained his footing. In a few strides, hed pushed open the thin cabin door and exposed himself to the harsh sunlight that was beaming down, discourteously. Squinting from the suns blaze, he climbed up onto the drivers seat, beside Zachery who was sat silently in the passengers, and peered around. There were now hardly any trees. It seemed like theyd left the forest, and were now in the vast open mossy and muddy grassy plains of... Somewhere. To the far south, on the right side of the cart, the unmistakable desolate features of the Dry Divide were just about visible, with a scarce number of trees dotting the faded green landscape between the road and the sand. It was a little past noon, as the sun had already passed its highest point Where are we?... murmured Wyatt. His voice was cracked and weak. His throat felt dry, though he had no idea why. And whered my voice go?... Take a guess...And its because you were screaming all night...Unkind things... Zachery answered. He sounded inhospitable, ill-mannered, even. He was clearly frustrated, perhaps angry. Wyatt peered past Zachery, who had gestured to the north, the left side of the carriage. A gigantic, but crude wall crested something, assumedly representing some sort of sealed fringe. It stretched for miles around, like a great, inconsistently structured wooden spine. ...Ohh... Wyatt exclaimed, before making a guess Walltown?! Its Divines Reserve, Wyatt... Id ask if you were dropped on your head as a child, but I know you werent... Oh screw you. Wyatt barked, painfully. What the farls got you so miserable? Eh? Zachery didnt answer, opting instead to just stare forward Ohh its because I SAVED MY OWN LIFE, aint it?

Look, Ill try not to do it again! Zachery turned with what could only be described as a growl. He glared at his son, as a mentor, not a father What you did goes against everything The Callers stand for, everything I stand for. I already told you what we do to necroborn, and what necroborn do to others! He was gonna kill me, dumbass! What else would you suggest?! Zachery pointed a foreboding finger If you were able to tap the necroley, you could have done the same for the cryoley. Wyatt scoffed and looked away Yeah, Im sure makin him a little chilly would have resolved the situation. Face it. I beat him with your taboo powers and there were no negative consequences! There are always negative repercussions when harnessing the necroley like that... In doing so, you could have challenged your own mental integrity! You could already be on the way to madness. What good are you when you start killing for sport? For pleasure? How are you any different to Morgarth Farl himself if you reach that stage? He leant forward, as Wyatt fell silent You swear to me, Wyatt. Swear to me that you will never perform a necroley cast again... Even when your life is on the line, even as death surrounds you... NEVER must you direct it upon another in such a way... Such a foul way... ... Wyatt had made empty promises his whole life. It had been part of being a thief. He had no problem doing it right now. Fine... I swear... Zachery stared a piercing stare, before eventually recoiling back into his seat Good... Heh... If you felt so strongly about this, why didnt I get a dream about that instead? Zachery sombrely gazed forward I never thought you would do it. Initiates rarely do... There has only been one other occasion where something like this has happened in the eight hundred year history of The Palecallers... Wyatt looked intrigued ...And what happened to him? Or her? Zachery didnt reply. Suddenly, Wyatt didnt want an answer anymore. The reluctance to provide one had been answer enough. ...Ok, never mind then... Lets talk about Darius... Is he gonna be ok? He should be. The ivoryon bullet you shot him with extracted itself during the glazing process. The wound it inflicted should close before he awakens. The dream should have told you that Wyatt nodded It did... I guess I like to hear it from you, too... Technically, you already did... Wyatt grumbled You know what I mean... So when will he wake up? Zachery frowned and leant back, scouring his memory for the knowledge Uhh... It varies when the thawing process isnt assisted. Should be awake before the moon rises. Ah. Good... Wyatt uttered. Silence fell, which quickly became awkward ...So... Were going in the right direction, then? The woolorths took us the right way? I would have woken you if they didnt. Heh... thats convenient... Wyatt frowned and glanced to Zachery again Reminds me, actually. Did you see what happened when I fell into the lake? The abyssei left me alone... Zachery turned to look at Rook. The look was one of puzzlement Thats interesting.

Ya dunno why he did it, then? I mean he didnt just not eat me, he saved me. Pulled me to the surface... Im afraid Im as clueless as you are... Its possible well never find out. Your path may not lead back here. Wyatt exhaled with disappointed, shrugging and facing forwards once again, the road before him stretching into the distance ...Shame... The cart rumbled gently along for the next few hours. The wall they rode alongside did not give away at any point, the sharpened stakes at its narrow walkway up top pointing down at them, accusingly. Every now and again, Rook spotted what appeared to be mercenaries or self employed guards patrolling the top of the wall. They didnt look unkind or even that formidable, more like lookouts than guardians, really. The wall never increased in quality, however, no matter how far they travelled. It was far below the craftsmanship levels you would expect in Sanctus or any wall constructed by The Wolfbane Pact. It lacked organisation and presentability, but likely made up for it in the efficiency during its construction. Whats the deal with the eye sore? Wyatt eventually asked. Its called The Draconian Wall. The Divines Reserve is inside. Theres a whole county within, with towns and villages, all of which are inhabited by the Faithful. Its one of the few places all the Divines are worshipped openly. Most of the towns have churches to every single one of them. Its my understanding that they get a lot of hassle from non-believers and are often accused of harbouring leyborn... So they had a lot of wranglers in too. The wall was built to keep them out. The Kingdom tolerated this, fortunately. Wyatt chuckled, causing Zachery to look at him What? Nothing... Nothing... You just... sound like a history book... Nothing but high quality information for my son. Whatever. Are we going in? Is that why were here? Are they gonna harbour us? No. Were just moving past. But learning is fun, isnt it? Theres actually only one gate and theres no chance well reach it today. Farl... How long is this wall? Long enough to make any man feel inadequate Ha! As the day dragged on, the cart formerly employed by the official guardsman of Sovreignous trundled peacefully onwards. They were no discerning features or interesting landmarks; just the stretching bulwark and littered vegetation. The northern wind carried grains of salty sand from the flats to the south, pleasantly cool and calm. Every few miles, another cart or woolorth-carried travellers would pass by. A few smiles and nods were usually exchanged. The roads were so empty most of the time that even a smidge of social interaction felt like an entire conversation for those who rode alone. Zachery frequently checked on Darius within the carriage, darting in and out with supernatural speed. This became more and more regular as time went on, suggesting Zachery was expecting his stasis to end soon. The sun had begun to descend but it would be hours before night fell. The woolorths didnt even slow down, not for a moment, their hardened resolve being one of their most admirable traits. Wyatt had taken the opportunity to learn a little more about his father. The pair of them defused the angered tension over time by conversing, casually, about previous chapters in the books of Tesss and Zacherys life. Wyatt however, couldnt help but always stray back to the matter which concerned and intrigued him the most;

So when you died... he began, once again, ignoring his dads eyes roll for the sixth time Did you... know it had happened? Was it like the lights just switched off or something?... Its not something I could fully describe... Like Ive already told you, I dont think I died... in the traditional sense. I was unconscious, and when I awoke... I was... well... like this. It was as I anticipated. There was no shock. I was a ghost. Did it hurt? Not as much as it could have done. Did your mother ever tell you what happened to me?... She said you were killed by Chillsire, at Tideguard... Yes... He froze my blood solid in a second... I didnt fight back... wouldnt have even if I had the chance. I went there to die. Couldnt you have just... like... jumped off a cliff? Wyatt said. He tried to sound sincere, but it didnt work very well. Zachery didnt seem to mind, throwing a smirk his way It had to look... real. It would have been suspicious any other way. Besides, it had to be... indirect...the act of another. The fenrye have no remorse when killing our kind. It was the best way for everyone. He shrugged, quickly Not my rules. Apparently direct suicide has something to do with accepting your end, and it reduces the chance of materialising as a ghost. If the Callers told me to kill myself, I wouldnt do it... Wyatt muttered How the farl does someone just ask something like that? Hey there, Wyatt, could you do us a favour and pull your own lungs out? Zachery chuckled. It was my fate. My purpose. I always knew it would be the final destination from day one. Wyatt stared, firing more questions But why? How didcha slip into a state where you thought to yourself I should just go right ahead and die for something secret!? I was... persuaded... by a very reliable and noble... man. Wyatt tilted his head Who?... He queried. As Zachery opened his mouth to answer, a loud CRACK snapped out from within the carriage. Zachery vanished, instantly, his voice lingering in the air for a moment as it said Come. Hes waking. The door to the carts internal area burst open as Wyatt charged in. The woolorths continued their trot without him as he wobbled into the dark where Zachery was waiting. The ice tomb had split, a large fissure spreading through the surface. As the two of them watched, it spread, branching out slowly across the transparent shell like a corrupting virus. It spread over every inch of the glassy exterior, where it seemed to pause, for just a moment. Zachery waved a hand to Wyatt Cover your eyes he said, quickly. Wyatt obeyed, not a moment too soon. The frozen sarcophagus detonated, majestically. Its fragments miniscule, like snow-flakes in the wind. They showered the carts crates and covered Wyatt from head to toe in diamond dust. It melted, quite quickly, leaving Darius lying motionless on the wooden floor, his clothes damp and his skin as pale as a corpses. Wyatt lowered his shielding arm, standing and staring, quite carelessly ...Is he dead? He looks dead he brushed some of the white power from his shoulders and cloak What a fuss over nothing... he jolted as Darius suddenly bolted upright, gasping for air like a man emerging after a prolonged dive. Zachery was immediately at his side, inspecting the wound (or what was left of it) and speaking, reassuringly down to Lao for the first time Be calm, Darius. Youve been through a lot. Remember the words of the dream. We are not your enemies... Darius stared around, eyes wide. His gaze blinked back and forth from a fearful stare to a furious glare when it met Wyatt, who had backed away, slightly.

Dont look at me like that. I saved your hide, kid. He muttered. Zachery raised an eyebrow and peered at Wyatt Kid? Hes the same age as you, brainrot. Wyatt pointed a frustrated finger Screw you. Im better at this than he is. I am, for all intensive purposes, his superior! He can be my little brother. Darius finally managed to splutter out a few drowned words You.... shot me.... I did it out of compassion! YOU SHOT ME! he shouted. I did it to shut you up? Seriously, what kind of answer do you want from me. Darius tried to crawl away, ignoring Zacherys pleas Darius, stay still. Relax! Can you even see me? Rook scowled, leaning against the vibrating carts wall This is quishcrap. Why the farl does he get such sweet treatment and I had to do a test before you even showed yourself to me! I told you already, he is the... contingency initiate... He doesnt get the same treatment as you Zachery said, whispering the words he thought sounded insulting. He is not used to a strenuous life style... please... either stand there quietly or leave me to talk to him alone... Wyatt beamed. Well thats a no-brainer! he squawked, cheerily, before turning on his heel and stepping out of the cart again, leaving Darius huddled in a corner with Zachery quite literally looming over him. Wyatt clambered back onto the drivers seat again, where he remained for the next few hours, without seeing neither hide nor hair of either Zachery or Darius. He could just about make out their voices echoing from within the wooden box that was trailing along behind him. The landscape didnt change, and neither did Wyatts boredom, but hed persuaded himself that hed rather hear the voice of nature than the voices of pretentiousness and irritation. There was an annoying lack of disgruntled shouting. Wyatt had shouted quite a lot when confronted with such absurdity, and yet Darius was either incapable of raising his voice due to his condition, or, the more likely case, he was simply accepting every scrap of seemingly nonsensical babble that was funnelled into his ears. Based on what Rook had seen of Darius already, he got the impression that it wouldnt be hard to convince him of pretty much anything. Naturally, he slipped into the process of internally conjuring up ways he could use this against his new ally for the purpose of comedy. Wyatts throat improved, with time. His voice returned to its loud, sarcastic default, giving him the ability to hum tunelessly to himself in an attempt to fill the void that was the long road before him. The others were taking an awfully long time. It was a lot easier when wranglers werent knocking your door down. He would occasionally call in, just to see how they were doing, more for entertainment than to ease any concern. He received the same answer each time; Nearly done now! Zachery had said they were nearly done over an hour ago... and had continued to give the same reply with each periodic check up. Sure, it was complicated and strange, but it shouldnt take this long, Wyatt thought to himself. Maybe Darius, with his private schooling and fancy lifestyle wasnt as smart as hed thought. As Wyatt contemplated over the slightly egotistical concept of his intelligence being greater than Laos, Zachery appeared beside him. He was smiling, which was irritating, for some reason. Is he your new buddy? Wyatt spat. He wasnt jealous. At least he didnt think he was... You are equals, dont worry. The ghost replied It took a little longer as he had a lot of questions... More than you did... Wyatt raised an eyebrow How did he have more questions than I had? I asked loads...

...You didnt really... Son... In fact you basically just jumped to whats in it for me?. Im sure he said something similar... Zachery smirked and leant back on the passenger seat No, actually. Hes willing to serve a cause as significant and ancient as this one without allowing his... libido to get in the way... He clicked his fingers I think you two should talk. Get to know each other. Youre specifically paired so that you have much to teach one another. You are opposites! Find a way to take the traits of your partner and blend them with your own. Youre arrogant, hes selfless. Youre adventurous, hes a little timid. Youre a fighter, hes a thinker, but hes naive, and youre sceptical... Hes annoying as farl, and Im pleasantly relaxing to be around. Zachery ignored this, continuing his lecture To become a perfect Palecaller, you will need to take... the best of both worlds, so to say. I dont want to be perfect... Even I know that no ones perfect. Sorry if youve got high hopes for me, but I just wanna be me Wyatt just stared forward, watching the bobbing heads of the trotting woolorths I already lost a lot. I aint too keen on losing myself too. Well... replied Zachery, with a soft sigh I dont think I can argue against that... Still, its a learning curve... When you go to school, you learn and you progress. This is a similar scenario, and I want you to learn how to survive in this line of work. Trust me, and talk to Darius, dont just push him away. He grinned at his son Its a small cart, Wyatt. You cant avoid him forever. Yeah yeah..... Send him out, I guess. Spose the least I can do is clear my good name. That sounds like a plan. Zachery withdrew from his seat and clambered down the sloping edge of the front section to the carriages door Ill bring him out, and then Im going to disappear for a bit. This road is completely straight. Just keep following it and you wont get lost. Wyatt glanced over his shoulder with a hint of confusion I thought you said you only disappeared to check on Lao. Whats your excuse now? I figured Id see how the other four are doing. Youll be fine. You dont need me to hold your hand. Youre a big boy now. Wyatt scowled at the patronisation Just bugger off. Ill look after the newbie. Im sure you will. Ill go get him for you and by on my way, then. Fine. Fine! FINE! Zachery vanished through the door, leaving Wyatt alone, but only briefly. The carriage continued its dull journey, the sun arcing through the air, the Lumina flowers in the grassy plains adding a refreshing hue of colour here and there like dots on a canvas. Wyatt was joined by Darius shortly after Zachery had departed. Lao took the seat beside Wyatts and watched him anxiously, his gaze burning a hole into Wyatts cheek. Rook twitched as he fought the urge to lash out with spiteful and potentially hilarious remarks. The pair sat in silence for a short while. Darius would occasionally hum, nervously, or pat his lap in a crude rhythm, seemingly trying to defuse some of the tension in the air. Rook decided to cut the corners on this matter I saved your life, you realise that? The fenrye would have mauled you a darn side better than I could have done with a little metal ball. Darius fumbled with his fingers, not meeting Rooks eyes ...You could have warned me... Nope. I was under orders not to. I played by the rules, for once. Youre a fan of this... cause... this mission... Then youre surely a fan of their regulations too. Everythin is a test to these folk... if Id have told you it was coming, it wouldnt have been fair, I guess. He pointed a slightly grubby finger

at Dariuss chest You ask me, you got off easy. I had to take a real bullet, not that fancy ivoryon one... from an enemy too, not from a friend. Darius opened his mouth, his eyes lighting up, but Wyatt interrupted quickly And I aint sayin Im your friend! Dariuss expression sunk like a brick in the ocean. He displayed eyes slightly reminiscent of a puppys or a particularly manipulative vermus. Wyatt ignored it, instead handing the woolorth reins over to Darius Here Waah?... Darius grabbed the reins and gripped them tightly in both hands ...Wh...What do I do? You just pull back to slowem down and lashem to speed them up. Can also tell them which way to go when we reach corners by pulling it in the direction you want. Childs play. He looked at the smartly dressed man, inquisitively I cant believe you dont even know how to handle a cart... Have you ever got out? Really? Darius seemed to calm, and the colour returned to his knuckles Not much. My parents are very protective. I was raised in a private school, taken to private social meets within exclusive clubs and organisations. I always knew, somewhere though that... there was something out there for me... calling... He glanced to the bewildered Rook Did you... feel the same? Like your destiny was waiting for the right moment to swoop in...? No. Said Rook, shaking his head No. Ive always felt like my future was my own. I still feel like my future is my own... no matter how much these Pale folk bark at me otherwise... Im still my own farl damn man... he scratched his head Destiny is another word for... restriction... you know? If yall destined to do something... do you got any choice in the matter? he shrugged I like to think I do. Up to you how you feel, I suppose. I imagine youre just gonna enjoy the ride, anyhow. Well it is very exciting, brother... to be part of something so ancient and noble. He tell you about the risks? He informed me of the dangers I would face... of what may well be brewing inside me... the necroley is something Id never imagined even encountering... let alone harbouring... but... your father assures me that it should remain in equilibrium with the cryoley it melds with... If you start talkin like him, I may throw you off this wagon and make you walk to The Reach... Wyatt said. He wasnt sure himself if he was being serious or not. Heh... right... Darius almost whispered. He hesitated, before adding ...Thank you, though... What for? For opening my eyes... and for... I guess... saving me Wyatt grinned and shook his head Ya dont thank a carpenters tools. Im just doin what I told and I aint likin it. I didnt wanna shoot you but Im thinkin you probably had a better chance with me than you did with that beast... Zachery didnt tell me how you survived... you defeated all three of the fenrye?... That I did. With a little help from the local fish monsters... What? Darius blinked and stared ...Wait... I remember, you fell into the lake... No one has ever fell into the lake and survived. Rook shrugged, carelessly The abyssei saved me. Well one did. Killed the last one in honourable combat once Id gunned your friend down. Wyatt intentionally avoided the means in which hed performed this task; he didnt want another lecture. Dragged you on out of there and we scooted. This is most irregular... the abyssei dont leave survivors... Probably just had something to do with the ley. Maybe they hate necroley or somethin Maybe... I suppose its possible... Still though... dont you think its odd? In my town you were granted such hospitality by both our mayor and our... local fauna... Nah. Before we met up, a guy punched me in the face in the tavern on the docks... Darius winced

Ah... He rubbed his arm a little, nervously Ive uh... never been in a fight... Wyatts expression didnt even flicker, even as Lao watched him, expectantly. After a short pause and a short stare, Wyatt blinked at the look of anticipation from the man sat next to him Hm? Oh... That doesnt surprise me, to be honest The hurt puppy eyes returned with an adorable vengeance ...Do you think I have what it takes for this?... I mean... I look at you, and you have weapons, gear, experience... Im the muscle. Youre the brains. Thats how it works. In an attempt at reassurance, Wyatt forced the sentence Im sure youll be fine... Amazingly, it seemed to work Thank you. That means a lot, especially from the son of The Voice! Dont ever call him that again. Ever. Wyatt noticed that Darius spoke a lot during the long journey. He enjoyed this less than simply weighing in his head whom he found more irritating, Darius or Zachery. In the end, he decided it was fairer to just call it an internal draw. As he came to this conclusion during one of Dariuss enlightened monologs, he snapped his attention back to the man when he heard his name being repeated in a bid for attention Wyatt?... Wyatt?... Wyatt? Wyatt?! What?! Oh... What?... Sorry I was... miles away The sun had fallen now, leaving the sky a deep amber colour. The first of the stars would start to sprout soon, and the moon was already on the rise. Have you ever met a leyborn?... Other than us, I mean. Wyatt nodded, pulling his coat around him a little firmer and buttoning up the front in preparation for the night Recently, yeah. A bioborn girl. Thats it, though... Darius nodded, intrigued They avoid cities like Lakebank. Too many people to report them... too many guards too, I suppose. What about ley-risen? You met any of them? Wyatt shook his head. Ley-risen were animals pulled into sapience by Wolfbane Pact employed bioborn to help combat the problems caused by Rimes shrinking population. They were capable of speech and understanding orders and were mostly used for labour and security, these days. Nah. Although my mentor was a vermus. I aint got a problem with the fuzzies, so long as they are on my side. Ive never even seen a vermus... Pal, you need to get out more. Wyatt stood up and stretched, wobbling a little but keeping his balance. He waved his arms to the world around him Sovreignous is a big place! Hell if Id had a bit more cash and a sense of direction, Id have explored her some already! Darius smiled a little, before pointing south Have you ever been to Preciphillie? Thats where my family came from. I aint been there, but I could tell from your skin you had roots somewhere in The Divide. Wasnt The Dry Divide when my family left it... just islands in the sea and a great city that towered over the waves... Apparently jewels and gold gilded the streets and encrusted the walls. The architecture was grand, grander than anywhere else on Rime... Older than Sanctus too until it was destroyed by The Formless... well at least thats what mother tells me... Cant imagine city life. Been a forest dweller this whole time... So where were you born? Somewhere odd and out of the way, I bet? Lights blazed to life along the Draconian Wall they were still riding in the shadow of as Faithful guards lit night beacons upon its length. Darius took a few moments to answer

My father told me that... there was this doctor... who turned up quite mysteriously and conveniently on the day my mother entered labour. They were on the road at the time, making a visit to a relative in Norvask who apparently urgently needed them... The doctor helped deliver me on that very road, and was quite specific about the best location to do so... It makes sense now that I know about The Palecallers... That when they actually arrived at their relatives days later, with a newborn baby... he hadnt been expecting them and had no recollection of sending any letters... Wyatt scowled, still standing and gazing at the darkening sky Doesnt that bother you? How much of our lives are actually farlin ours? Our own births were orchestrated... We were made FOR this... Nothin else... Makes me feel like strings are wrapped around me only I cant see whos holding them he shivered Its scary... to be honest with ya. Ive spent my whole life believing that fate is something in storybooks and the minds of superstitious idiots... Ive always felt in control... and then someone comes along and tells me that theyve been nudgin me in certain directions for years... Is it not worth it, though? Darius began. Wyatt glanced down at him Whatcha mean? You said you had a mentor... In a way, you had two. The Palecallers didnt teach you in the traditional sense... but they didnt indoctrinate you, they didnt brainwash you... they even gave you a choice, after all the years theyd put into your development. Wyatt remained silent, staring It seems like youre trying to paint them as unfair, perhaps even villainous... Maybe youre trying too hard to find an enemy in them... This is why were opposites, like your father says... I see the good in this, and nothing else... Wyatt scowled Thats pretty gracious, considering they not only had you officially pronounced dead, but also had you shot... What about your parents, Lao? Youre never going to see them again and you didnt even get a chance to say goodbye... Farl, I cant go five minutes without thinking back to my ma... She had this look in her eye last I saw her, like she knew somethin wicked was coming... Its horrible to think she probably gave my pa that exact same look before he went off and died... just as Ive supposedly done... He brushed his fringe aside and exhaled, sadly ...I can be selfish sometimes... but right now, what gets me the most is how shes feelin... I dont even know if she can take it... losin her son too... ...Im sorry... Lao said, with a hint of guilt. ...My family wont miss me hugely... it wont be hard for them to move on... Everything was about money to them... money and self preservation. I dont even know what its like to... have a life such as yours... He shrugged ...Its easier for me... I suppose... Although, at least your father is here with you. Wyatt grinned and laughed, turning and vaulting over the drivers seat That aint much of a reassurance. Dont think Ill ever call him Pa. Hell always be that ghost in the corner of my bedroom... He climbed down to the carriages door. Hold the fort, pal. Im gonna get something to eat. He pushed the door open with a creak and entered the wooden vessel. As the door closed, Wyatt sunk against one of the crates and slunk to the floor, burying his face in his hands. The thoughts of his home, and his one remaining member of family haunted him, more so tonight than before. Itd only been a few days since hed last spoken to his mother, and although he rarely spoke to her before that, he now missed her more than ever. It was strange, he usually barely gave her wellbeing a second thought; shed always been one of the hardiest women hed known, but emotionally, no one deserved what she was undoubtedly going through right now. He wondered how The Callers would do it; how they would inform her of his demise. Perhaps theyd be classical and forge a Nox note. He contemplated miserably over the vision of Tess receiving the embroidered

envelope, the detail of her expression sinking, and her hope fading. To counter it, he thought about going back to see her once his training was complete, once the wranglers had lost his trail. Surely The Palecallers couldnt stop him. What if the wranglers didnt stop just looking for him, though? What if theyd demand knowledge of Wyatts birth location from his mother? She could already be in their custody, just like Vince was. With these dark notions hitting him from one side, another realisation hit him from the other; how much death hed witnessed in the short time his fathers voice had hounded him. In just days, hed seen people have their lives cruelly snatched from them, and he himself had snuffed out the existence of a pair of fenrye... and come dangerously close to murdering a fellow man. Alone with his thoughts, in the dark, his breath came out in shakes. It gets better... Wyatt... Zacherys voice chimed in his mind. Rook didnt even look up. He didnt even try to hide his face, or fabricate an excuse. I swear by the Seven... By the stars... by the beat of the hearts of every last man, woman and child on this world... It gets better...

Chapter Nine Behind The Lock

???????? Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock They suffocate behind the lock... Tick...Tock...Tick...Tock The bolts, the doors, they knock... knock... Hmmm... Perhaps you will help me quiet them... Shhh, though... they shouldnt hear us speak... they dont like that... they rattle... when I prattle... they groan when I drone... They squawk when I talk... Like birds... Birds in a cage. Shhh... Shhh... Now little ones. Same old knocking...like the seconds on a clock... Tick....Tock...Tick...Tock We cant help them while we rest, child... A dream can only get us so far... you settle for the voices that bring you peace when you should strive to hear the ones that enforce it... Peace comes with nothing. Nothing... Nothing. NOTHING! NOTHING!!!. They call to you, so understand, they coax you forth, so hold my hand... There is a romance, a bond, a need, a lust. They strive to hear the voices too... but... they must. For nothing... nothing at all, is not... nurturing. They wish to spread their wings. Tick...Tock...Tick...Tock The flames, the wind, the tides, the rock Tick...Tock...Tick...Tock The life, the cold, diseases pock What is pure? What is everything? What sings with a song that all will hear? What do you have in common with the beasts that fly through the sky, or the rats that skitter through the catacombs... You wish to be taught by dreams...? I can teach you everything... I can teach you what no one else can... I can teach you the secret that oozes from the jaws of gods I can teach you the ONE certainty of existence... I... can teach you death. Tick...Tock...Tick...Tock Wake up, Wyatt...And join the flock...

Present Day Wyatt bolted into a hazy consciousness with a yell, the husky, haunting voices last words still echoing in his throbbing mind. He crawled into the carriages darkest corner from his bedroll, barely acknowledging Darius and Zachery who had been crouching over him. Wyatt huddled in the dark, shivering. It was the most horrible thing hed ever felt. Hed take being shot again over this any day. The words and the rhythm of the dream thumped through his head, resisting all attempts to fight it away. He could make out the lips of his father and ally moving through his blurred vision, but couldnt hear a word they said over the internal assault that was taking place. It was like another mind was omnipotent within his own, like his body was being hijacked by an unseen and powerful entity. The pain was excruciating, like frozen daggers cutting through his scalp, into his skull. The agony was enough to knock a man out, but something, some force, was keeping everything as lucid and clear as possible. Zachery appeared at Wyatts side, urgently checking him over. Darius just stood back, one of Wyatts blades in his hand. Evidently, hed been told to keep it ready. Wyatt fought against the intrusive thoughts with every ounce of his will. He had no idea if he was still screaming or not, unable to detect anything audible aside from the monotonous droning of Tick...Tock...Tick...Tock. He witnessed Zachery beckon Darius over, where he seemed to issue him instructions. Darius nodded, taking his place at Wyatts other side. He noticed Rook cautiously eyeing the glinting knife in his hand, and he promptly cast it away, watching Zachery before placing his hands on Wyatts temples. Even with his nobles smooth skin, Dariuss grip still felt like a metal vice with crushing intent. Wyatt tried to struggle, but by now had lost the ability to move. With Zachery barking orders, Darius closed his eyes and focused. A pale light escaped the cracks between his fingers after a short period of concentration. Just seconds after Wyatt felt his own left arm slowly lift from his side on its own accord, the presence was weakened, and it thudded down once again. The tick-tocking, the hollow breaths, and the cruel laughs gradually faded over the course of around three minutes. Control was restored to Wyatts body and limbs, leaving a dull ache which seemed to pass through every inch of him. His throat was hoarse once again, no doubt from the shouts. His vision found its way back, and the sounds of his fathers call finally reached his ears Wyatt?! Wyatt!? Damn it, son, come back! Rook lulled against the wooden walls of his corner, tilting his head weakly to return a grey-eyed stare .....Gh.... he managed to say. It wasnt the most structured of sentences, but it was enough to send a wave of evident relief through Zachery. ...Wyatt... he replied, with a sigh ...You had us worried sick... Youve been screaming for hours... and chanting... the sort of cryptic nonsense Id expect from... well...an Echo... he gestured to Darius Our friend just performed a very basic exorcism... You owe him your life... Darius scratched his head, looking a little sheepish ...I uh... I suppose were even, now? Wyatt, can you talk? Its important that you tell me exactly what happened... Zachery continued, sternly. Wyatt croaked a few times, before shaking his head (even this was a challenge). Every sound was like a church bell ringing in his ears. Zachery pointed to Darius before indicating to one of the many crates Get him some water. Darius obeyed quickly, shoving the loose lid off one

of the boxes and grabbing a waterskin from within. He tossed it to Zachery, blinking as it passed right through him. Zachery raised an eyebrow. ...Forgetting something? ....Yes... Sorry... Darius rushed over and scooped the skin up Sorry... he repeated, uncapping the waterskin and plugging it crudely into Wyatts mouth. Wyatt drank, coughed, waved Darius away, and forced the sentence ...What... the farl... is a clock?... he whispered, weakly ...its a time keeping contraption... With three hands, one each for seconds, minutes and hours... as each second passes, it makes a fairly distinguishable tick, tock sound. Wyatt shivered at the words ...Dont ever... say that to me...again... He tried to force himself to his feet, failing miserably. Stay down. Zachery ordered You have to tell me what you saw... what you heard... Wyatt coughed, before glaring at his father Your farl damn dreams backfired... someone else has jacked them! Zachery widened his eyes, but only briefly. He quickly dismissed the accusation Thats impossible. The Palecallers have been using the subconscious triggers for generations. Grh... If you... aint gonna listen to me... then get the farl away from me... Someone... Somethin... is bleedin through the hole you left when you punched my brain all those times... Who?... How should I know!? In shouting, Wyatt only hurt himself a little. He coughed and spluttered Gh... agrh.... Thats meant to be... your job... That gorram thing... tried to steal me or somethin... It was movin my arm before you sent it packin Zacherys fearful expression returned, although mixed with complete and utter confusion ...Im... Im sorry, son... This is beyond me... Well need to talk to The Palecallers about this. ...How long before we get there?... I aint too keen on goin through that a second time... ...About twelve days... Good... The cart had been travelling for nearly eighteen days now. The trip had been fairly uneventful so far. The rations would clearly last the duration of the trip, and so far the passengers had received no harassment from the wildlife, or the wranglers. Based on the gentle rocking of the walls and floor, it was evidently still in transit, with the woolorths effortlessly pulling with only short intervals to eat, drink and sleep. During these short pit stops, Lao and Rook would clean themselves in freshwater rivers or lakes to prevent their odour from attracting carnivores. The Divines Reserve was long behind them now, replaced by the endless farmyards, fields and small woodland areas of Norvask. This had been the first dream to hit Wyatt since they last left Lakebank. The law was a little freer here, meaning the presence of The Wolfbane Pact was slightly diluted by the mercenary town guards and vigilantes. Despite this, however, so far there had been no trouble from the locals. Darius, Wyatt and Zachery were all currently still inside. Some time passed, but Wyatt was still unable to stand, although hed managed to crawl his way to his dagger and sheathe it, clumsily. Darius was taking the opportunity to snack on some dried beef, while Zachery seemed anxious to find the right words that would fabricate reassurance. Wyatt, it probably wont happen again, and I cant switch the dreams off. Its as natural to you as breathing and speaking... its seeded into your very being. How can ya know it wont happen again, pillock? Ya dont even know what it is! Id rather take a bullet to the brain than go through that crap again! Ya have any idea what its like to not be in

control of ya own damn body? It had taken the best part of an hour for Wyatt to regain most of his speech capabilities and could now furiously shout without much pain. If ya wanna teach me, then teach me! Dont do this dream crap no more. Son, the dreams serve a purpose that I cannot fill alone. Not to mention the fact that... Zachery trailed off. What?... Wyatt persisted. ...They can serve you well even after Im gone. Remember what my unfinished business is, Wyatt... Rook fell silent. Oddly the concept of losing his recently discovered dead father was actually quite upsetting. Theyd bonded over the last half a month, and the same could be said about Wyatt and Darius too (although he was still obnoxiously subservient and optimistic). Zachery silently clicked his fingers You cant reach The Callers for another twelve days, but I can. Ill jump on ahead and find out everything I can. I should be back before sundown, so just give me ten hours or so Wyatt scowled We might need you. If you hadnt been here when that thing hit me... Darius will look after you. He knows how to exorcise the presence if it returns. Zachery smiled Trust me, Wyatt. The sooner I find out what the problem is, the sooner we can be on the way to getting it fixed, and this will never happen again. I wont go if you truly wish it of me, but the choice is yours. Wyatt stood down a little, making the decision more out of desperation than anything else ...Fine. Just dont stay gone too long, got it?... You have my word Zachery beckoned Darius over Both of you, watch yourselves in this province. Dont attract any unwanted attention and try not to step out of the cart, especially in forested areas. You will be eaten. Just keep following the main road as always, and I will be back before any direction changes are required. Support one another with your skills and do try to get along... Well be fine, teacher... said Darius, with what looked like, to Wyatts disgust, a bow. I know you will. Zachery finished, before vanishing with a faded flash. Darius gave Wyatt a warm smile, before returning to his meal. Wyatt remained slumped against the wall, concentrating on his recovery. The pair of them didnt exchange many words for the next thirty minutes or so. Darius would occasionally toss food to Wyatt, which he would thank him for and hungrily devour, but that would be the extent of it. Smoked meat for breakfast wasnt exactly ideal, especially during Lumina where fresh fruit and vegetables were in abundance, but the crates werent refrigerated and most of the fresh food had gone bad by now. Hey. Wyatt spoke with some obscurity between his chews Thanks... Darius beamed. It was obvious he gained some sort of pleasure from gratitude and acknowledgment of his helpful deeds. Youre welcome. It was horrible seeing you like that. Do you really think Zacherys dreams have something to do with it?... Wyatt gave a firm, confident nod Im certain. The voice, the one in my head... it even sort of... referred to the dreams. Said it was trying to teach me...just like Zach was... Teach you what?... Darius queried. He was being careful, trying not to pry into anything too painful. It was an appreciated but unnecessary sentiment ...Well... he said he was trying to teach me death I see... Perhaps your use of the necroley cast against the fenrye has not gone entirely unnoticed... Wyatt sighed and shrugged, his worries crawling through him.

A sound a theory as any... The conversation ended there for a beat. The pair of them finished their meals in silence. Darius had a tendency to store some food in the pockets of his regal clothes, and today was no exception. It was efficient, as it meant he didnt have to take his eyes off the road nearly as often in order to feed himself throughout the day. Wyatt felt there was an ulterior motive, although whenever he investigated, he usually received a fairly cryptic response, such as youll see. The gentle clattering of the wooden wheels and the muffled, external clip clopping of the woolorth hooves relaxed Wyatt for a time; the rhythm was much faster than that of a ticking clock. Lao. Help me up, would you?... Wyatt asked once hed regained his composure, safely changing the subject. Darius trotted over and obeyed, as he always did. He hooked his arm beneath Wyatts and hoisted him up, supporting him with his shoulder. Tell me when you find your footing, and Ill let you go... Wyatt nodded, adjusting his balance and weight. It was like learning to walk again for the first time. When he finally managed to find his bearings, he gave Darius a thumbs up Ok. As Darius released him, and backed away, the cart jolted to a very abrupt full stop. Wyatt was instantly thrown off his feet again, although Darius was as well, so he felt less embarrassed. Wyatt rolled a little on the wooden floor, cursing out loud Damn animals... Probably got spooked by a saberl or somethin... He was once again pulled up by Darius, finding his balance much easier the second time. Thanks. No problem. Shall we check it out? Wyatt nodded. He wobbled over to the wrangler crossbow he kept near him at all times and threw its leather band over his shoulders. As Darius approached the cabins door, Wyatt hissed for him to stop Ah ah. No. Let me go first, pal. If its a saberl, this is gonna require some accuracy and finesse. ...Rook, you can barely stand... You can barely do jack! Stay put, and Ill call you out once Ive secured the all clear... He shoved past Darius, who stood away from the door, conflicted. Wyatt pushed the wooden panel. It swung on its hinges and rising sunlight poured in, dazzling him. Through his squinted vision, and much to his dismay, Rook made out the unmistakable form of a crossbow pointing down at him from the drivers seat. The clicking of what sounded like a dozen more similar weapons emanated from points surrounding the carriage. Wyatt bit his lip and said, casually Darius?... Yes? ...I changed my mind... You go first... It had to be the wranglers. Theyd found them. He decided to do his best to appeal to their sense of reason and mercy. He raised his arms in submission I neither committed any criminal acts, nor condone them! That ought to clear up most of his record. Darius was right, optimism wasnt so bad. Oddly enough, the voice he heard in response, coming from the drivers seat, was far from what a wrangler should sound like Well then, squire... this is gonna make my job a whole mess of easy... Wyatts vision finally adapted to the light. It was a vermus holding the crossbow, with matted fur, chipped fangs and more scars on his muzzle than youd see on a military training dummy. Call your mate out, and lets be done with our biddy exchange, hm? He had a very strong vermus accent, although must have had origins from the Norvask sanctuary, where the civil tongue had gone slightly into disarray, and words such as little had become biddy. Wyatt had glance around the area. An entire group of armed humans surrounded his cart, all of which were armed with fairly crude weapons and armour, mostly cheap crossbows and loose fitting hides. The vermus above Rook was garbed in a long moss green

coat with burgundy trimming and bone-white buttons. Stop your gawking and do whatcha sposein by. Youll be looking to find my accolades say pretty please with their trigger digit... get me? Wyatt shook his head, raising an eyebrow ...Not... Not really?... The vermus sighed and waved the bows barrel off the carts edge Get it movin, ya legless shore crab. Wyatt didnt argue. He slowly stepped from the carriages safety, where he was immediately disarmed by some of the humans. Darius followed, shyly. The vermus flashed him a rotting grin, and he grimaced, unattuned to such vile living conditions. Ello pretty boy. Affix with ya companion, ifin ya please. ....What?.... Darius questioned, blinking Just get down here. Wyatt helpfully called, as his wrangler bow was torn away and admired. Darius hopped down, taking his place beside Wyatt. One of the larger, stupider humans grumbled a sentence This all of you?... Wyatt smiled at the idiot, who had his boots unlaced and his shirt on inside out Well, you just missed the disembodied ghost of my father, but hell be back later... The bandits looked confused, and exchanged some dim glances. Wyatt sighed and hung his head ...Yeah, this is all of us. The vermus agilely flipped over Wyatt and Dariuss heads and landed a few feet before them Gentlemen! he began Please dont ave a fit in alarm, or some. This ere be the Cracked Fang Clan... or well, a division, ya might be callin it. Were ere to merely accommodate some of ya omeless belongings... aint no life on the road for such a catch! Darius nudged Wyatt ...Whats he saying?... How the farl should I know? I think hes just dragging out confessions of being a total nob... Wyatt was smacked on the back of the head by a burly human as he rather unsubtly said this. Respect the lieutenant... Wyatt rubbed his head, giving the giant an unfazed look YOU answer to HIM? Did mommy not give you enough milk to develop a farl damn backbone? A few of the bandits chuckled, dimly, but were immediately silenced by a few glares from the vermus. Regardless, the lieutenant stepped in before the large human could inflict any more damage in retaliation to the insult Leave im be, Buxon... The balls on thisun is actually refreshin in our lineo work... Wyatt snorted at the concept of refreshing balls, but didnt seize the opportunity to tease the man about it. What do you want? Darius asked, sternly. Were currently undertaking an important mission and cannot afford any delays... The vermus gasped, sarcastically OoooOooOooOO... Ear that, lads? he grinned to his underlings They is on a special mission, innit just? He raised the crossbow and pointed it upwards at Dariuss throat. Darius did not flinch, but Wyatt could tell he was fighting the urge to quake in his boots. Im afraid, pretty boy, thatcha wont be meetin ya works quota... You and your gear is takin a skip with me and my associates... He turned and pointed at a distant fort. Even through the morning mists of Norvask, the building was quite impressive, but it had fallen into disrepair. It looked old, likely a remnant of the Faith War If ya job was so essential, like... then mayhaps ya should have chosed to steer clear of our base, see me? Wyatt sighed. He was already frustrated, and he had a tendency to do silly things when frustrated. Whats the point in taking us captive? Seriously? Youre already taking everything we own... The vermus slinked up to Wyatt and stared up at him, sneering Well, squire, were goin to put you to work, and possibly, if ya bein ya best behaviour, well initiate ya, and ya can be one of us Wyatts jaw dropped at the apparent stupidity of this ethic

...Are you insane? Why would we want to do that?... The vermus casually looked at his claws, filing them with the sharpened bolt loaded into his bow Would ya prefer it if we were to leave ya ere? Unarmed, ill-supplied, pal? Make the call, if ya are to be so darin Wyatt blinked. There was a short silence, before he pointed to the sky, dramatically To the foreboding, bandit controlled fort! Darius slapped his palm to his face at Rooks side. A pair of the bandits clambered into the driver and passenger seats of the carriage and steered the woolorths from the road. The animals seemed uneasy leaving the familiar path, but obeyed under the control of their new criminal masters. The group set off, but not before theyd clad Wyatt and Darius in some cheap iron shackles to ensure they werent the centre of no funny business. The pair of them were marched across the grassy terrain, wincing as they watched the bandit clan start to gorge themselves on their desperately needed supplies. Darius whispered to Wyatt after edging closer to him ...Do we have a plan?... Well... Wyatt began, in an equally hushed voice I suggest we see what the defences are like and plot our escape from within... We aint gonna be able to take all these folk on by our lonesome selves... Maybe we can turn them against each other with a few promises here and there... his sentence faded as he heard the familiar harmonic chimes of his ivoryon weapons. The vermus leader had got hold of the flintlock pistol, and was currently marvelling it with wide, beady eyes. ...Well Ill be buggered... he murmured under his breath. He jogged a little to catch up with his captives, walking alongside Wyatt once hed made some ground This ere... this is Ivoryon... aint it? Ivoryon weaponry... Uhhh yep. Wyatt said, innocently I believe one of your idiot friends has the rest of the set... The vermuss eyes narrowed, passing over each one of his men. He spotted the one Rook had mentioned and approached Gorvar, give the blades over ere. The bandit hugged his quarry, defensively ..But... boss... you said we could keep our own hauls... I deviated from my original bloody mind. Hand over the knives or Im gonna deviate a little more... The bandit sadly passed down the daggers. They sung their vibrating tune as the vermus made his way back to Wyatt You. Where didcha get these ere tools? Wyatt shrugged Inheritance. The vermus looked worried, much to the confusion of Rook and Lao. Something wrong?... Darius asked, pleasantly. The vermuss concerns were quickly masked behind a layer of aggression Be it none of your business, weed! Keep marchin! And take a long ard look at Luma... cause she aint gonna be where youre goin... To the mines with ya, see? Wyatt sniggered, nudging Darius with a grin Looks like youre finally gonna get a job, rich boy... And youre finally going to get an honest one... Darius replied, smugly. Wyatt opened his mouth to reply, but realised he couldnt snap back with anything cleverer than that. He hung his head and grumbled, while the crumbling walls of the fortress grew ever nearer. At closer inspection, the fort was in even worse condition than originally predicted. There were gaping holes in the walls, the gates were practically hanging off rusted hinges and some of the shattered battlements had clearly tasted the force of siege weaponry. A gatekeeper above the keeps main fortified entrance noted the appearance of his lieutenant, and began winching the double doors ajar. The process was embarrassingly slow, emitting a horrible un-oiled screech which

made everyone in the area wince or hold hands to their ears. With the doors just open enough to allow access for the men and the woolorth-pulled carriage, the group entered. The carriage got stuck in the door as a fantastic testament to the clans incompetence, but they managed to free it from its wedge and shove it into the main courtyard. The fort was composed of one castle-like building with two smaller buildings at each side. Simple wooden signs had been nailed into place above the doors of each of these broken constructions; The largest one was evidently reserved for living quarters and the treasury, and was marked Home, the small one on the left was marked Prizon/Mine and the third, smaller building was apparently titled Storege. Notably, this storage building was sealed up tight with multiple heavy padlocks and chains. The greed and occasional stupidity of Norvask bandits was infamous in the criminal realm, and most of their failures came at the hands of traitors within. Even Wyatt, with his fairly limited knowledge of the cultures world-wide, knew what he was dealing with here. Additionally, there was an open sheltered area which contained what appeared to be a still smouldering blacksmith forge, and just to the side of the storage hut, there was a large, barricaded indent within the earth. From this distance, it was hard to make out its purpose. The doors grinded shut behind the group (slowly and painfully), leaving them standing in the courtyard. The vermus pointed to a few of his men Go and nab the chief. I want his eyes to settle, some, on what Ive got here to offer up. Two of the bandits ran off. The vermus eyed the details on the ivoryon pistol. Hed sheathed the pair of daggers, which were the size of swords to him, and was now tracing his claw over the details inscribed upon the guns casing. He subtly placed his paw over the mysterious symbol that no doubt represented The Palecallers, before visually matching it with the same symbol on the hilts and blades of the daggers. Again, it was clear something was bothering him, but whenever his men asked, he dismissed them. After a pause, he tucked the gun into his belt and approached Wyatt Empty ya tucks, weed... he pointed to Wyatts pockets, and to the satchels on his belt, defusing the impending question. Wyatt obeyed, although with some difficulty as his hands were still bound in chains. His dry coin purse, expensive thermic flasks, medical provisions and ivoryon key hit the ground at his feet. Rather than going for the obvious, the vermus darted for the key and snatched it up. He was definitely afraid now. He shot a look to Darius and Wyatt, a look of disbelief, and perhaps denial. Wyatt just smirked, while Darius folded his arms and tilted his head, inquisitively. There was a low boom as the large doors to the main building swung open. Some bandits quickly held the doors open, allowing passage for a six foot eight, muscular, heavily armoured human. The behemoth of a man descended the steps before his keep, his armour clinking with each step. A large braided straw coloured beard was hanging from his horned, helmeted head. His eyes were just about visible in the shadows of his thick browed helm, a dark green in colour, their hue brought out a little by black face paint across his eyelids and cheeks. His armour bore the scratched out marks of Wolfbane Pact military forces, suggesting this armour used to have an owner who was loyal to the kingdom. Lincoln... I see youve carried out your assignment....What have you brought me?... the chieftain said. His voice carried power. It was deep and rich, exactly what you would expect in a figure of authority. The vermus gave one last look to Wyatt and Darius, dropping the key again and scampering over to his boss on all fours, his cloak briefly trailing behind him Sir... I need your advice... and your consent... Speak then. Lincoln looked at his prisoners.

We found these weeds on the Northern Trade Way... theyve food aplenty, but... no manifests or the likes of which... they aint traders... is my sayin ere, sir. What is your point...? The vermus was miniscule in comparison to this barbarian. It must have taken an admirable amount of courage to stand at his feet like this. Well... sir... Look... he pulled the gun from his belt, and held it up. It reverberated, until it found its way into the metal-clad hands of the clans chief. He looked the gun over, unimpressed What am I looking at here, Lieutenant? Sir, look at the markings, the insignia... Theyve got an ivoryon key, and weapons, just like in the tales of old... ...Get to the point, weasel... I havent got all day. The man boomed. Lincoln puffed out his chest, before leaning a little closer (as close as his tiny legs could raise him) and whispering something. The chief listened, before grinning, and eventually bursting into a fit of laughter. Your superstitions have always been of great amusement to me, Lincoln! Sir, beggin ya pardon sir, but as ya advisor and such... Ive gotta advise that this assignment be scrapped... and we letem jog on their merry way... Lincoln squeaked, a sound vermus are capable of making, but rarely do, as he was lifted by the scruff of his neck. The chief glared into his eyes, while he dangled, helplessly This is Rime... This is Norvask... we do not throw back our catch. Have their goods transported to storage... and have them both thrown into cells... He smirked at the two men Have the preciph share a cell with the starving cat... Id love to see how long the beasts pathetic morals hold... He glared back to his lieutenant Do I make myself clear? ...... Lincoln hung his head ....Of course... Sir... Right you are.... Sir... ...Good... The chief released the vermus, who thudded to the floor with a second, quieter squeak. He was then cruelly kicked away like a furry football, before the armoured hulk finally turned on his heel and entered his fortress once again, the ivoryon pistol still locked tightly in his grasp. Lincoln struggled to his feet. His body was a little grazed and he was winded, but he was still perfectly capable of issuing the order; You heard him... Stock the stocks... and the stockades... Take that crap on the floor and store it too. The preciph shares a cell with the cat... As Wyatt and Darius were hauled away, Wyatt shot a menacing grin to Lincoln, and purely for his own sadistic interests, shouted Palthgar will not be pleased, bud! Lincoln went rigid, his jaw dropping ever so slightly as his suspicions were evidently confirmed. Wyatt just stared at him as he was dragged backwards to the prison block, and through the door. Darkness consumed them once again. The place smelt foul, a sort of mixture of pet food and faecal matter. The faint dripping sounds from the walls was far from reassuring during a midluminas day, and through the murky black, the sights of bars shifted into sight. Most of the cells were empty, but a few of them had silhouettes moving within them. What is this?... The guard dragging Wyatt growled when he realised the presence within the cells as well Foreman! Why arent these whelps digging!? A distant voice replied Hit a gas deposit! You want us to blow our mine to farls ass, sendem back in there! Quishcrap! Did you tell the chief?! Farl no! Dont you rat me out either. Im workin on a new tunnel that should air the whole thing out. I heard you got some fresh meat?! The creaking of an adjacent cell door reached Wyatts ears

before he was thrown inside. He hit the damp, stone floor with some force, and found himself lying a few centimetres from a human skull, his nose almost touching its empty socket ...Well thats disconcerting... Wyatt muttered to himself, shifting to a seated position and watching Darius be deposited into the cell opposite his. The conversation of the bandits faded once the doors had been locked and the guards had moved along. Through the inky air, thick with a black dust, most likely coal from the mines, Wyatt squinted to check Dariuss condition. He seemed fine, getting to his feet and dusting himself down. Watch your back, Lao Wyatt said from his cell, his hands on the bars Theres somethin in there with you Lao nodded, turning and gazing around his cage. A few bulky objects came into view, most of which were small boulders, but one of the shapes moved. A pair of predatory, feline eyes opened in the darkness, reflecting the barely present light available. Use the ley, bud... That wont be necessary... he crouched low Remember all those times you asked me why I keep food in my pockets?... he pulled some dried beef out and slid it towards his bestial cellmate. You wont starve anymore... the shadowed creature snapped the food up and chewed it, gratefully. Wyatt watched with intrigue What is it? A saberl? Indeed... replied Darius, taking out some more meat and feeding it to the heavy, large-fanged cat. It easily reached his hips in height and matched his body length. Its fur was coming out in tufts, and wounds literally covered the poor things body. Its back left leg ended with a stump, its paw completely severed, although this wound did not look recent. It had probably been living and dying here for quite some time. Why would they keep a saberl in a prison cell? Wyatt asked. A female voice in the cell next door to his, weakened by the exposure to the dust in the air, answered this riddle Hes a ley-risen... Starting to think he doesnt even remember anymore... or at least... doesnt want to... she coughed, as Wyatt moved over to the bars on the cells left side and tried to get a better look at the woman within How long have you been here?... Wyatt asked, trying to remain as sensitive as he could ...That depends... the woman answered. She was almost totally invisible. Her skin was completely caked in black dust, which acted as the perfect camouflage in this dark environment What season is it?... ...Its Lumina... 5thth Lumos... Ah.... What year?... 777LW ...I see... to answer your question then... Ive been here four years... Wyatt glared and kicked the bars with his foot. This sort of treatment infuriated him. ...Then get ready for a change of scenery... because were leaving... Were all leaving... Tonight. A few chuckles egressed from the various shadowed cells. Weve heard that before. A croaking mans voice said, from an unknown location. Mhm. Forgive us if we find your optimism a little... farfetched... Darius sat at the saberls side, addressing the audience around him Hes not that optimistic. Trust me. Wyatt nodded Exactly. I know when a plan is gonna go to crap, and I know where and when a leyborn can pull stunts a bunch of oppressed prisoners cant. There was a short silence. The coal-covered woman whispered ...Youre... leyborn?...

Cryoborn. Both of us are. Am I still the subject of humour, or do I have your attention? He thought it best to leave out the necroley part to avoid scaring the prisoners more than they needed to be. ...Youre... not going to hurt us?... Please. Our existence is miserable enough as it is! Wyatt waved his hands and shook his head in the direction of the mercy begging voices. No no, yall got it all wrong. I aint gonna hurt you. That leyborn being evil thing is just wrangler propaganda. Were here to help you, so long as you keep our identities a secret... ok? That means no tellin the bandits, or the authorities when we spring you. That fair? Again more silence. Come on! Stayin quiet cannot be your answer. Has The Pact really got ya so afraid of a little ley that ya cant even take ya own freedom into ya hands?! There was no response. A bandit guard strolled by which quelled the conversation before it could develop any further. By the time he had passed, most of the prisoners seemed to have lost interest. It must have been hard for someone so jaded to see the silver lining on any coal-covered cloud. ...They dont like it when we talk... the withered voice from across the block said, once the bandit was finally out of view If we talk, we get less food... If we plot anything, they kill us. Wyatt spat And yall happy livin with that? Course not. Give us til tonight to make up your minds... Were bustin out of here, and you folk can decide whether or not ya comin with us. Wyatt shuffled to the front of his cage, and looked across to Darius. Darius just shrugged, the saberl lying at his side, calmly Do you have a plan yet?... Wyatt nodded I doubt youre gonna like it, but yeah, I think I got something... It was risky... you know... making threats like that to the vermus... Darius moved to the bars too so only a few metres separated him and Wyatt. He whispered The Palecallers must remain nothing more than a fairy tale... That lieutenant, Lincoln... Hes read stories about us. I know... and Im going to use that to our advantage... Rook said with a sly grin. No one believes him... Just as theyd no more believe the Divines truly existed... You saw how afraid he was... Darius nodded, rubbing some soot from his forehead Ive read some of the lore. Its said The Palecallers are the most formidable warriors on Rime... They ended the Necroley War... just a few of them against an army. As an organisation of... questionable morals... I believe the vermus has good reason to fear... He sighed There is one problem, Rook... ...What?... We are just initiates... We dont even know how to perform offensive casts yet... With any luck, we wont have to. Besides that, weve got until nightfall. Zachll find us and teach us the basics if we really needem. ....There are a lot of assumptions there. Youre sposed to be the optimistic one. Trust me. Lincoln is afraid of us, which means hes susceptible to bargaining...We need to find a way to reach him... I doubt hell come in here lookin to chat on his own choices... If we win him over, itll make springing out a lot easier. Darius grimaced, brushing more powder from his hair. It could work. We should not risk lives, however... Wyatt hissed, restraining himself from gesturing at the various other cells They dont have lives. Look at them! Nothin makes a force stronger than hate.

And youre sure Lincoln will comply?... Im sure he will listen. Theres two core skills I picked up during my time as a thief and a trickster... One of them is how to analyse my mark... Darius tilted his head ...Whats the other one?... Wyatt opened his mouth to answer, but snapped it shut again as a guard strolled up the corridor between the barred doors. As he stomped his way by Wyatts cell, with a quick snatch and the faintest of jingles, Wyatt had reached out and plucked the key from his back pocket. The bandit continued on his way, ignorant to his loss. Wyatt held the keys up to Darius, wiggling his eyebrows before saying, jokingly You know what, Lao? I cant quite remember. He pocketed the keys. A few of the other prisoners had noticed this, but they made no objections or comments. If Lincoln doesnt come here himself, Ill find my way to him. Hrmph... Good luck... the neighbouring woman chuckled. His quarters are at the top of the main fort... next door to Jorgnrs... Wyatt squinted into the adjacent cell, into the two floating, dry eyes Jorgnr is the name of the chief? Thats right... Jorgnr the Cracked Fang... Hes infamous in Norvask... Well... at least he was four years ago. Cant say I know the local news anymore... She sighed He sometimes asks for one of the slaves to be sent to his bed... Half the time we dont come back... Wyatt shifted a little closer Do you know anything about him that can help me? Any weaknesses... fears... routines? The old man across the room snorted He doesnt fear The Pact... and he doesnt fear leyborn neither... Another male voice came from the cell beside the original one. It had what sounded like a Glascan accent. He cannot afford to fear... showing weakness here is like blood in the water for the abyssei... Theyd rise against him, and he would become nothin. They say... the woman began That he gained his name by crushing the skulls of saberls with his bare hands... and that he fought in The Preciphillie Ring of Ruin... and lived. Something clicked in Wyatts mind as he remembered the strange crater in the forts courtyard. Hes an arena enthusiast? Do they have a ring here? Is that what that thing is beside the storage area? The woman blinked ...Well... yes, but...- And if Jorgnr died, would Lincoln be in charge? The other men laughed. The lady answered with a serious and straight face Yes... But... She looked Wyatt up and down Youre... absolutely, ridiculously, ludicrously, one hundred percent no match for him... Hed kill you faster than a speeding bullet... Wyatt pointed I whole heartedly agree! But he wont just be fighting me... We could all challenge him. Naturally this suggestion faced a very poor reception. Groans and boos came from all the voices in the area Idiot. Why should we risk our lives like that? Darius, who had remained fairly quiet until now, slowly stood up and stated clearly .....Hes right. More boos and hisses echoed through the dank chamber, to which Darius raised his voice to remain heard in response The chance of us walking free without any bloodshed is minute, at best. Wed have to compete with Jorgnr and dozens of his men... If he accepted our challenge, we would only have to defeat him. We would have to organise a deal with Lincoln first,

however... No doubt hes sick of the neglect, and he already fears us. If we place him in command, he may well let us leave. Why would Jorgnr risk killing all of his slaves? the woman snapped His mining operation would grind to a halt. Wyatt pointed across to where the Glascadians cell was Because, as our friend said, he cant afford to show weakness. If hes prepared to turn down a challenge from a bunch of decrepit, malnourished prisoners, what will that say for his undying reputation?! He scratched his head and added, a little apologetically Uh... No offence... Darius nodded in agreement Correct, although this plan will be useless without cooperation from the lieutenant. Even if we did defeat the chieftain, all wed gain would be a dead body. Leave it to me. Wyatt said, with a small salute. I can have everything organised by nightfall, and thats when well make the challenge. Darius nodded With any luck, Zachery would have found us by then... Thats right. I want the go ahead from him really... Wyatt peered around the cells. His eyes were already starting to water due to the heavy concentration of black airborne particles, but they were also adapting, slowly. I aint forcing any of you folk into this... but the more of us that stand, the better our chances are of getting out of here. They all remained silent. It was clear they were all practically envisioning their own gruesome deaths. You have until nightfall... Wyatt said, shuffling to the back of his cell. You have until the sun sets to decide whether or not you wanna do whats necessary... or condemn yourselves to another four years of mining, abuse and starvation... He rested his head against the back wall, his plan starting to formulate in his mind Yall come around. He announced The one thing we all got in common is survival instinct... and stayin here... that aint no life...

Chapter Ten Open the Door

Forty Three Nights Ago We put measures in place to ensure if the journey was derailed, metaphorically or indeed literally, there would be something to learn, and something to teach. I do not know if you will ever hear these words, Wyatt, but if you are, then something has gone wrong. Rime is nothing if not occasionally very predictable. We all operate on routine, like animals. We harvest and store food for Glacenox, we place monthly offerings to the Formless, and we man erected defences every bloodmoon. We know what beasts wait for the first snows before they begin their hunt, and we know where to place our traps. Weve learnt so much, and yet its never enough to eradicate the chances of mishaps occurring. Rather than guess your current predicament, I will offer you advice, as I have always done, as the life of a Palecaller is one that discards the concept of routine almost completely. The Callers cannot take solace in knowing where their assignments will lead them. They are needed all over the world. The one shred of familiarity youll come to embrace will be Palthgar itself, but who knows how many of your days will be spent within the comfort of its walls. It is a life of adventure. Spirits can manifest in multiple ways, and they can do so anywhere a sapient being has died. This means you are not limited at all. Your goals could take you from the highest peaks to the darkest dungeons, from the oceans depths to the driest of plains, from the secluded farmsteads, to sprawling cities. Never for a moment can you foresee your destination, until it is handed to you by your colleagues. You will trek through lands most men will never glimpse. You will cross seas and brave storm, battle nature and endure her wrath, all for your duty. I suppose this sounds unappealing? Allow me to word it in another way... Wyatt, you will be a legend, a hero, an adventurer and an explorer. You will have a freedom reserved only for the birds that rule the skies. You will be part of a group that sends shivers down mens spines, shivers of either admiration, respect... or fear. Even today, the name of The Palecallers is one of myth. They are here and there, dotted in history, but only if you look hard enough will you see the full extent of their reach. They have been everywhere, done everything, and not for a moment did their initiates anticipate the magnitude of the marks they would leave in history. Do not be disheartened by this little detour, my son. A true Caller learns that a linear path is usually the incorrect one. You are encouraged to branch out, to make risks, to fall into traps, to root out the sources of unrest and destroy them. Rime is sadly full of death, full of spirits who have lost their way. It is only through searching that many of them will be found, but you will have assistance with this. Many people fear what they do not understand, but you will seek to unveil the mysteries. Many people are opposed to difference and change, but in time, nothing will be alien to you. Only stay true to your training, unfamiliarity will become something you are naturally attuned to. You will learn to embrace the unknown, as what else is the unknown for, than to be known? Finally, remember this. The Palecallers do not just clean up the mess... They prevent it. If you can brighten lives, give them hope, finish their goals, you should. You are a force of necessity now, Wyatt. Hearken to it.

Present Day Lincoln the vermus was anxiously moving through the fort. Every shadow made him jump, and every noise made him want to duck into cover. They had Palecallers in their custody, leyborn agents of Glace himself. He subtly and quietly cursed the name of his commanding chief, irritated by his lack of faith in Rimes legends. Every tale had a hint of truth somewhere, but he knew what he was up against here. He knew as soon as he saw those weapons, and as soon as he saw that key. He knew what they were capable of, because hed seen them in action before... Lincoln approached his quarters. When this place was a military fort, this room would have likely housed dozens of soldiers, but it was now reserved entirely for him. Bandit guards patrolled corridors and stood at the entrance to the fort too, no one would get in this place without alerting him first, and he took solace in the fact hed have time to run as he did before. He hopped to reach the high doorknob and turned it, walking into his room and quickly pushing the door shut behind him. Hello, Lincoln... The vermus squeaked at the dark voice behind him. He gulped, slowly turning to see one of the captives sat upon a nearby wardrobe, his legs idly dangling and a knife in his fingers, which he was using to remove dirt from beneath his nails. He was garbed in the hide attire that was issued amongst the other bandits ...Wha... owd ya give the bouncers the slippy?... Wyatt hopped down from his position, pacing into the rooms centre, twirling the blade in his hand Oh... Yall might find an agent of Palthgar can be... very persuasive... Five minutes earlier Wyatt approached the forts main door without so much as turning a head. He tugged at the loose clothing hed stolen from the prison guard, ensuring it didnt fall off mid conversation. As he approached the gate, a bandit guard stared him down. Wyatt waved and said in the gruffest, manliest voice he could conjure Can I go in? The bandit shrugged Sure. Wyatt gave a thumbs up Cool. Thanks. He walked in. Present Youll find, Lincoln, that no doors are closed to me. I need not a silver tongue or my weapons to bewitch the minds of your most loyal servants... Wyatt pointed to a chair Sit down. Lincoln, to Wyatts amazement, actually complied with absolutely no resistance. ...Is you gonna top me, pal?... Lincoln said, looking at the floor. That remains to be seen. I think you can be of use to us alive. Lets talk about your leader... This...Jorgnr... He treats you like dirt. Why do you respond with such obedience? Holding this stately, intimidating persona was a little difficult, but Wyatt was happy with how it was going so far. Lincoln looked up

...Hes fearsome and that... Could snap me both ways in the blink of a peeper... It aint worth gettin dead for... Wyatt stroked his chin for no real reason. Perhaps it would make him look more intelligent I seeeee... Well I believe it is time for a change of command... We will grant you control of this clan and remove Jorgnr from this plain of existence... on certain conditions... Lincoln looked confused. For the first time, a flicker of disbelief went through Lincolns eyes, and Wyatt felt his illusion cracking slightly ...Why would you elp me?... Why not just top us all and be done? Ive spied you callers before... you dont know mercy... not with weeds like us... Wyatt span the blade in his digits again Dont you trust me, Lincoln? He leant forward. Lincoln went a little rigid, pressing himself back against his chair I wonder what your eyes have seen... Theyve seen what you callers do best... and thats massacre... Wyatt frowned. That was a little disconcerting. Lincoln continued Was at a fort not unlike this... they came durin the night... the um of those ivoryon slicers just enough to ear me a warnin... no one got out but me... there were families, kiddies an all... He quivered, the images clearly going through his mind and then those keys... those doors... He shook his head It aint right... Wyatt hid his confusion ...The past is the past. These are my terms: Your prisoners, including us, must be released the moment you gain control. Failure to comply will result in.... Heh... well it sounds like you know what it will result in... He turned away and moved towards the door Wed rather avoid bloodshed, but there is only one way to deal with this, once and for all. He placed his hand upon the doorknob, looking over his shoulder at Lincoln Challenge Jorgnr in the pit... and we will willingly fight at your side. He is a proud and bold individual, and if you state he is to fight all of us, simultaneously... he will do so. What are we but a few malnourished prisoners... and a small vermus? Make the challenge tonight, once the moon has risen.. Lincoln shifted uncomfortably, but didnt respond. Wyatt flashed him a smile, before leaving once again. As before, Rook had absolutely no difficulty moving through the fort without attracting attention. If he wasnt so determined to save the prisoners as well as his own hide, he could happily be on his way right now. He walked outside, passing the guards for the second time. His woolorth carriage was just about visible, parked at the storage houses side. Security at the storage room seemed a lot more prominent. There were two armoured guards standing side-by-side at the door, disallowing access to anyone who approached. Evidently Jorgnr didnt want people snatching whatever loot or food they could get their mitts on. His key and daggers were in that building, and he sure as hell wasnt leaving without them. His gun was likely still in the possession of Jorgnr. It wouldnt matter; so long as Zachery was back in time to teach them a few casts, defeating a bandit chief would be a piece of cake. Wyatt moved through the courtyard, watching as one of the bandits strolled into the prison block. That wasnt good... Wyatt had made a bit of a mess in there. He jogged totally inconspicuously to the stockades door and entered, closing it quickly behind him. He heard shouting from a bandit who had evidently stumbled across the naked, unconscious body of his friend Who did this?! Come on! Own up!? Did a prisoner escape? Where is he now? Tell me or Ill gut you! Wyatt crouched low and snuck up on the spear wielding bandit. He was currently threateningly jabbing it through the bars of the cells at the man with the Glascan accent. Wyatt stealthily approached, flipping the knife in his hand and preparing the blunt end of the hilt for attack. You want me to get the boss down here? Is that what you want? Yeah, I bet hed have fun beatin

the information out of you Wyatt straightened up and slammed the hilt upon the mans forehead just as he turned. He went down, his wounded scalp dripping blood across his face About time! The Glascadian said Next time, hide the damn body, alright? Wyatt sheepishly grinned into the cell, still unable to make out the man within Sorry, pal. Hes still breathing. Put him down. Wyatt widened his eyes, glancing at the unconscious bandit Oh... I uh... I dont really... he scratched his head Id feel weird killing a human... I aint ever done it, see? The female, Wyatts previous neighbour, snorted in derision You just challenged an experienced arena fighter... What are you planning to do to him? Sing him a farling lullaby? Why you hittin people on the head anyhow? the aged voice said from a cell behind Wyatt If youre a leyborn, use your ley... a murmur of agreements sounded from various cells. Wyatt flailed his hands for silence No more questions! I kill who I need to kill. If I gotta kill that farl damn lug then Ill... do it... I guess. Ya know, he aint really human so it cant be that hard. Wyatt used his snatched cell key to open an empty chamber and drag the two unconscious guards in. He bound and gagged them both with scraps of their own clothing once hed changed back into his normal attire. Now at least when they woke up, theyd only be able to roll around and make muffled noises in the dark. Once this task was completed, he simply moved back inside his cell and closed the door. Now they would play the waiting game. The hours dragged by and there was yet to be sign of Zachery. A bandit with some foul tasting gruel came in around late afternoon and distributed bowls of the stuff to all of the prisoners. Thankfully the dusty darkness was enough to shroud the mumbling guards from sight, and their noises were overpowered by the Glascadian deliberately and tunelessly singing at the top of his voice, despite being told multiple times to shut up. As a punishment, he did not get any gruel. Wyatt was kind enough to step from his cell and offer his bowl as compensation however once the guard bandit had left. Hed already unlocked everyones cell as a sign of good will, but was now sitting before the Glascadians door trying to see him through the airborne coal dust. Whatcha lookin at? he said, after about twenty seconds of squinting ...Honestly, I have no idea. I cant see any of you folk... Ha. Yer get used to that. The rest of us can see through this clear as day... Assumin any of us remember what day is. Whats your name? Wyatt asked Why do yer care? Because someones gotta. Screw off, pansy. The woman laughed and spoke, moving right up to the bars Hes called Elric. Im Tish, and the old fella on your right is Fyor. Wyatt grinned Ok. Now were getting somewhere. Im Wyatt, and my friend over yonder is Darius. Weve got a bit of time to kill... You mind if we chat? Tish beckoned Wyatt a little closer Sure. Aint like I do it often. Mostly the guards punish us for speaking out of terms. Can see that wont be much of an issue now. Forgot me fast enough... muttered Elric. You had your chance. Ill come back to you Wyatt said as he pushed himself up and wandered to Tishs cage, leaning against the bars. Even when only a metre or so away, Tish was still hard to see. Her face was so covered in the dust in the air that she blended almost seamlessly into the darkness.

Where you from, Tish? Valleys End. Was born in Haven though. Moved to Valleys End when the brawls werent good enough back home. Youre a brawler, huh? Tish scoffed, before looking a little disheartened I was. Doubt I am anymore. Takes a lot to shatter a spirit like mine... but... Weve been through more than a lot... Can barely form a fist anymore. Literally... she reached her hand through the bars, showing Wyatt. The ring finger had been cut clean off. Jorgnrs a pig. He thinks removing the ring finger from a woman demoralises her into servitude since shell never get married... Sounds like a moron too Hes not that bright, but he doesnt need to be... Ive fought in brawls all around Rime... even got into a fight with a wrangler once, and Im telling ya... No one hits as hard as he does... Every fought a fenrye?... Tish pointed as if this reminded her of something Funny you ask. I was actually on my way to Eastwood outskirts in the Divines Reserve to fight a fenrye. Id heard there was a hunt there recently and some stragglers got away, so I went to see if one would be up for a fistfight.... was sort of a dream of mine. Was then that this lot captured me. I broke two of their jaws before they restrained me. Youre insane Wyatt said with a wide smirk. I like that. Yeah. Ive hit Jorgnr with the same force though but nothing gives... hes like a farling bask... Well see how he handles the ley. Theres still plenty of fenrye about to punch and not letting you at them is a crime against nature. Tish grinned. Her teeth were tainted by the dust, but they were the whitest thing on her body I like that. Kinda like destiny. She gestured to Rook What about you? You ever fought a fenrye? I killed two the other day... But I had a bit of an unfair advantage. How so? Tish asked. Darius piped in He had a gun. Wyatt nodded in agreement I did indeed. An ivoryon pistol. Jorgnr stole it. Fancy... not really my style though shrugged Tish. She paused, then frowned for a moment Wait... what kind of leyborn did you say you were?... Were cryoborn... And you have ivoryon weapons? I do. Darius doesnt because he wouldnt know which way to hold it. Charming... Darius interjected, sarcastically. Tish waved her hand over to the furthest occupied cell opposite hers You getting this Fyor? The withered, dry voice replied Indeed.... he started to recite something, cryptically On the turn of the Eras final decade, those with the blood of Glacenox, the blood of Eonfeygorl, and the blood of our influence shall wield the singing steel that will shatter the futility of the marching silence, leg by leg, haunch by haunch. He coughed and wheezed Ngh... And the true children of Rime shall open their eyes beyond the poles... And when at last, the illusion is cleared... They shall rise, and take back their home... Like we havent heard that a million times... groaned Elric. Seriously, pal, you need a hobby. Wyatt pointed between Tish and the cell in which Fyor was in What... just happened? What was that? Tish smiled and made a shooing gesture Go ask him, not me. Wyatt nodded, and drew close to Fyors cage. He could see the old mans form within. Squinting through the black, it was possible to make out the same words hed just repeated carved

into the walls and floor with sharpened rocks. Before Wyatt could even open his mouth, Fyor began to speak Youre so young... but... I see it in you... He stood, and approached Let me explain... In my youth, I was a recollector... do you know what that is?... Wyatt shook his head. A recollector is one who seeks to expand our historical knowledge beyond that of the seven hundred and seventy seven years we have recorded... Our history is so new... but what was before then? As a collective, we discovered evidence of entire civilisations that predate ours. The words I just recited to you were the words written in an ancient tongue upon a wall of prophecy... Centred... Significant... Wyatt groaned and held his head Please no... Seriously, Ive got enough plots and subplots in my head already. You have ivoryon weapons... and you are cryoborn? Our research indicates, that the one fitting the description of the blood of Glacenox... would be a Palecaller... How does everyone know what a Palecaller is!? Is this public knowledge? Why did I and him have to get schooled on the matter? he pointed at Darius. They aint even supposed to be real! And yet here you stand before me Fyor said, calmly The power of the spirit realm at your finger tips... Welcome, Krosinoxs child... Tish laughed Oh come on, Fyor. Every day you blab on about this prophecy. Of course youre gonna jump at the first sign of a new person and state hes connected to it. Yeah, pal. Elric began I mean its fair play to assume a few sculpted words aint gonna come true. Even if he is a Palecaller, this eras probably not endin anytime soon. And if it does, itll be when the fenrye finally pull their fingers out their arses and slaughter us all with a single army. Tish sighed, dreamily I could hit so many of them... The era will end when the Beast War ends... Fyor said, simply The war can end at any time... Although as you said, the likely result is a crushing defeat and extermination of human kind... Dunno why they dont just get it over with Elric said, spitting on the floor No way we could takeem all. They dont attack, Elric, because their Goddess hasnt ordered them to. Well shes never gonna do that, because she DOESNT EXIST! Matern is as real as you or I, fool. The fenryes very existence is proof of her intervention... Well why dont she give the go-ahead, then? That, my friend... is one of Rimes mysteries. One of Rimes... illusions. Fyor turned back to Wyatt It is possible that you are the one to dispel the shroud of deception that masks our world... Rimes not that mysterious... is it? Wyatt scratched his head I suppose it has its... quirkiness... Tish hissed to Wyatt to get his attention So is it true then? Are you a Palecaller? Wyatt sighed and nodded Technically... A new one, I bet. Listen, youre in Norvask now. The Ivory Reach is our neighbour. Farl, Shadowfell is one of our biggest settlements and Palecallers have to walk right through it whenever they wanna get to Palthgar. Most of us believe in you lot... although hardly any of us have a clue what you do other than sit in a fort and occasionally kill bandits and criminals... Darius rather professionally stepped in to say Im afraid thats confidential... Fyor snorted Confidential... Its written in time, a format which most are too blind to read. The Palecallers protect The Pale, Tish. They... hunt ghosts. Elric laughed loudly, while Tish just raised an eyebrow

I think it might be time for your nap, old man. She said, slyly. Bah. To Iceplane with you... I dont need to be insulted... He crawled into a corner and fell silent. Wyatt moved on, deciding it was best to leave him alone. He moved to Elrics door again, peering in So, you sound like youre from Glascan... Elric gave a thumbs up through the black Aye! Thats a keen observation. Ten points! Tish exited her open cell at this point, tapping on Rooks shoulder. He turned with puzzlement while she whispered loudly and deliberately into his ear I should warn you! Elric is a total asshole! Hey! Elric glared Up yours, tomboy. Yer just afraid of a man whos more man than yer are! With Tish from her cell, Wyatt finally managed to get a decent look at her. She did have the build of a fighter, but it was dilapidated some, obviously from the four years of borderline starvation and poor living conditions. Her face had a few severe scars and her nose was a little crooked too. She was dressed in linen rags, as were the other prisoners too. Wyatt planted his vision back on Elric again How long have you been here then? Long enough to know yer gonna get yerself killed if yer go through with this plan... He shrugged about six months? Not even half the time that poor lass has been here. He waved to Tish. She smirked and responded Your concern is appreciated, although Im worried about Fyor. Hes only been here for about... Eighty days, I make it... already showing signs of sickness. This place aint meant for a man his age. Fyor grumbled Ill be fine... he let out an ironic, heckling cough almost immediately after this sentence. So, whats your story? Wyatt asked Elric. He already didnt really like the guy but he was willing to try and strengthen the relationship. He needed all of these people on his side if he didnt want to face Jorgnr alone. Its an excitin one. Full of beasts and... feckin leyborn. Im a bard, see? Weavin tales is my game. I travelled all over the place, singin songs and tellin stories too. Was on the Northern Trade route when these cracked fang tossers nabbed me. I said I could write twelve songs about that Jorgnr behemoth but they didnt have none of it. What sounds can I make in a feckin mine apart from clink, clink, clink of a pick against stone? That aint no art. I feel so underappreciated. Losin my edge, I tell yer. They probably didnt even use my lute... just chucked in that storage room to rot like the rest of their crap. Really?... Wyatt began Because... you sang earlier and you sounded like a strangled quish... Tish and Fyor burst out laughing. Thankfully so did Elric Ha! Yeah. When it comes to my voice I got less tune than the earth we walk on. Nah I do spoken word songs with musical accompaniment. Sorta like beat poems. People eatem up in taverns and the like. Tish began to wander around, stretching her legs, having not stepped out of her cell for such a long time. Wyatt meanwhile was smiling at Elrics brags Sounds good. Sounds like a life worth getting back to, if you ask me. Elric paused, then sighed ...After hearin how long Tish there has been here... I suppose Ive lost hope in that... I dont wanna risk my life... I doubt any of us do. Will be a shame to see the pair of yer out there without backup but... You aint been here as long as we have. Weve seen what Jorgnr can do... Farl, Tish has tasted it more than once. Besides, Fyor and I, we aint fighters... Tish knows how to throw a punch but she cant do damage to that monster... Hell kill Lincoln last so he can watch his plan fall to pieces... thats the sort of man he is. His head sunk into his hands Wed be cannon fodder... No,

worse: Wed be a demonstration... A demonstration of what was about to happen... of what the price would be for treachery... Youll have leyborn on your side... Ive killed fenrye by raising my hand... Well good for yer, lad. That might serve to protect yer, but where will we be? Even if yer win, theres still a chance we could go down. If yer so confident, go out there alone and win our freedom that way... Wyatt nodded I might. Well see. He turned and walked to the next cage over, the one with Darius and the saberl inside. The saberl appeared to be sleeping, his eyes closed. Hows it going? He asked Lao. Darius shrugged Im confident in our abilities... Thank The Seven for that... because Im startin to lose hope. You hearin what these folk are sayin? You made a promise to free these people, Rook. Im not going to tell you whether or not you stick to it... We shouldnt leave without our carriage. We wont survive the rest of the journey without the supplies. Stealing the carriage is not subtle. They could close the gates and wed be trapped... Your plan seems like the most diplomatic and sensible solution... Wyatt nodded, beginning to pace and speak in whispers so the others didnt hear his confidence wavering I know... I know... Hes just so... he made a few swelling gestures with his hands HUGE. I imagine your father would lecture you on believing in yourself. Have confidence in your abilities, and they will be more than a match for the chieftain. He gestured to Wyatts cell I suggest, as you have more experience with casts than I, that you try to recall the feeling you conjured in your desperation when you killed that fenrye. Perhaps you can recreate it to perform a cryocast. Id advise against necrocasts... considering the events of this morning... Wyatt nodded in agreement ...Yeah... Alright. Ill see what I can do. He turned to Tish who was a few metres from the door, staring at it, hungrily Tish, I swear youll get your freedom if you stick with the plan. Dont go outside now. They will kill you. Tish didnt respond, stuck in a sort of wishful trance ...Tish! she snapped out of it, turning towards Rook Uh... Mhm. Ok. Ill... she walked back to her cell, shutting herself in with extreme reluctance ...Ill stay here... Just until nightfall... I need to lock the cell doors again, everyone, so anyone coming in will not suspect something is wrong. No one objected. Wyatt fought back the guilt as he sealed the poor individuals within their cages once again. Finally, he locked himself in, taking a seat in the corner and closing his eyes. He focused on his breathing and tried to recall the feeling of a cast. The conversation gradually died down into silence once again. The next few hours played host to very little conversing. With Wyatt and Darius both trying to practice their leyborn gifts, the cells returned to a silence that must have been familiar to the long term residents. Wyatt wondered how often the prison block was like this, the captives bullied into quelling their voices until a total absence of social interaction had become the norm. Theyd learnt to accept this foul reality. It was a wonder they still remembered how to talk. While the silence helped him concentrate on one end, it angered him on another. On more than one occasion he would try to spark up a conversational topic, but without his input it would die very quickly. They needed this vocal catalyst to even maintain a friendly exchange. It was heartbreaking.

As the light from beneath the door grew darker, and night began to veil the land, Darius and Wyatt had still made no progress, and Zachery had still made no appearance. Things were becoming a little desperate. The last of Wyatts patience slipped away, and he growled, snatching up what looked like a human femur and casting it against the bars of his cell. The clang made everyone jolt in surprise. Where the farl is he?! Wyatt angrily yelled, getting to his feet and pacing around. Tishs puzzled expression appeared at the bars Are you... waiting for someone? You might be waiting a while... Wyatt dismissed her input Its not important... forget it... Focus, Wyatt... Darius said, without moving an inch. It aint about focusin, Lao! Casts are instinctual. I need to not focus on it, but I have no idea how without bein desperate like usual. Darius opened his mouth to answer, but his reply was cut short as the door to the prison block swung open. A bandit walked in, holding platters with, what appeared to be, relatively decent meals sat upon them; cooked venison steaks served with a side of vegetables. The dust started to cling to it, but the smell was delicious enough to pull every prisoner except the saberl to their feet and move to the bars. The bandit proceeded to open small hatches and slide the food in, as the lumbering colossus, Jorgnr, casually strolled through the threshold. I have had you all prepared a fine meal... as you are to do battle in the pit when the moon reaches full height. I shall be your opponent... However... As I am a... fair man... I believe that warriors have a choice, on whether or not they heed the call of the arena. So eat well tonight, slaves... for tomorrow is another day in darkness... whether you live, or die. He turned and made a stomping exit as the last of the platters were handed out. The captives were overjoyed at this prospect We dont have to fight AND we get a free meal! called Elric. This is great! he tore into his steak hungrily. Tish tried to answer but had her mouth completely food, as if her brains were temporarily in her arms, stuffing down the meal without delay. Even Fyor was ravenously digging in. Wyatt ate his meal slowly. It was very good, despite the fragments of coal dust tainting it. Darius had received a single, extra large platter which he shared with the saberl. Confident, aint he? Wyatt said between chews. No one replied. No one wanted to. Wyatt sighed, placing his platter on the floor and getting up. It was time to go all in. Now listen up, everyone, and listen good, cause I aint gonna repeat this. This existence, this miserable pit yall call a home is not worth the life youre putting in. Tishs been here for four years, how do you know that aint gonna be eight years? Sixteen? Thirty? How do ya know ya wont be here for the rest of ya life, regardless of how long itll be? If you walk out there with Darius and me, youll be walking closer to a way out of this dump, if you are just willing to take the risk... To make the jump. Take it from us... our initiation ceremony into the callers has like fifty percent chance of killing us, but were gonna go ahead with it because thats what we NEED to do. Can any of you honestly say that you NEED to stay here? No, you have to get out, and this is the way to do it. Youve all got lives to live, but they aint in here. They are out there, now, in Norvask, in Sovreignous... not a coal mine run by crooks... Theres no reward without risk... Theres no triumph without struggle. Theres-... another voice, a new one, sounded from Dariuss cell, completing Wyatts sentence No freedom without suffering... the voice was low with a heavy Norvaskan accent. A pair of feline eyes beamed through the dark When I was still just a cub... my paw was stuck in a clap trap... The metal fangs tore deep, and I was motionless for days... hoping someone would find me. They did not. The pain was excruciating... but I knew what had to be done to save my own life... I had to

amplify that pain... and pull against my better sense. With twists and bites... I escaped with my life, but not... without suffering. The three pawed saberl strolled forward There is no freedom without suffering... He bowed his head to Wyatt You have my allegiance, Caller... I will fight at your side. Tish thudded against the bars, smiling broadly at the beast Mordecai... Its so good to hear your voice again... My apologies, Tish. I... forgot... myself. Darius has helped me remember... He turned to Lao Your kindness and understanding came of great comfort to me. I will repay you, with my blood, if I must. If Mordecai is with you, then I cant let that old moggy go out there alone. Tish said Weve lived and died together for four years. Thats not about to change. Fyor swallowed a boiled vegetable, before casually saying I have faith in the Caller. I will do what I can to assist. My life is nearly over anyway. The way he said it made it sound so relaxed, as if he was going to agree all along. There was a long silence as everyone waited for Elrics response. ....Peer pressure... Elric said, simply. Never was good with it... he chewed for a moment, before laughing and shaking his head Ah crap... Fine. Come on death, lets make sweet music together. Its settled then. Wyatt said as the others reacted to Elrics answer with some hushed cheers If you get in trouble, get behind me. Ive got some combat experience. Do not throw your life away, but do not miss an opportunity. This man cannot afford to win. Look at what hes done to you. Use your hate, and... farl... Lets just go kill him already. There were some muffled whoops from halffilled mouths. They ate the remainder of their meals with a certain lack of conversing, other than the brief and occasional exchange of tactical ideas. The group worked on the assumption that weapons would be provided, and that surrounding the giant would provide an advantage; no one, no matter how strong they were, had eyes in the back of their heads. Sparks of light would rhythmically illuminate the block as Mordecai dragged his claws against the stone, sharpening them. He was the only one that Wyatt couldnt sense at least a touch of fear within. His resolve was clad in iron, and he would be a valuable ally. Wyatt saw to get to know him, as hed done with the others, even if it was only quickly So, Mordecai... The saberl looked up from his claws Caller. What do you have to fight for? Mordecai growled under his breath I fight so that villains such as Jorgnr cannot strip innocents of their lives with a click of his tongue and a word from his mouth... I fight so that my own people can walk the trade routes without fearing for their lives... I fight for the people who cannot... But most importantly... I fight for the twelve years this man has choked me with... I fight for the light I have forgotten existed... I fight... for revenge... Twelve years?... Twelve years, five months, eighteen days... I never stopped counting... and every moon that passed shall be a wound upon his skin... We ley-risen are not meant to be capable of hate, of love, of envy, of passion... the humans think it makes us dangerous... But there is no force in the world that can make me forget what he has done... and if I am to die, Caller... you will see my spirit rise, and silence the drumming of his misguided heart...

...Lets hope it doesnt come to that. Wyatt said Dont let it blind you... We can beat him, but we cant afford to be reckless...Ok? Mordecai shook his fur, a cloud of dust billowing out, some of it landing on Darius There is no honour in what he has done. He should expect none in return... I agree, bu- The cell blocks door swung open, and three bandits jogged in Right! Times up! one of them shouted as he moved into the centre between the cells Whos gonna be tonights entertainment?! Wyatt stood up I am... The others followed his lead, rising to their feet and moving to the bars I am. I am. I am... As am I Me too, I suppose... grunted Elric, after everyone else. The bandit raised an eyebrow to his colleagues They is all fightin? Boss was only expectin one or two We got our orders. Lets not scrapem out. Open these gates. One of the bandits pulled out a ring of keys and started unlocking the prison doors, squinting through the darkness and fumbling Gah, this is awkward. Where the farl is Piston? Aint he posted here? Probably outside watchin with the others. Dont blame him, to be frank. Wyatts door creaked open, and he stepped out. The bandits ignored him, proceeding to unlock the others Yeah, this is gonna be a night to remember. I heard Rink is openin bets already. True? I should get in on that... Easy peasy to guess the outcome. Boss has survived the Ring of Ruin. This aint nothin to him, I tell. The other doors opened one by one, and everyone slowly stepped outside. Mordecai was growling perpetually. Wyatt watched him with concern. He looked like he was struggling not to tear their throats out. I hear to that. The bandit glanced to the prisoners gathered before him Lets get you all outside and geared up, then. Oh, and dont try to run away... weve got the gate sealed, and the boys are allowed to ave some fun with you if you try... Ha. Yeah. Cant believe Lincoln though. Always hated that little weasel but what hes doin is crazy. Hes bloody good with a sword though. Who knows, maybe hes got a chance... There was a short silence, before the bandits all burst out laughing. During their guffaws, they shoved the prisoners towards the open door. The crisp and fresh night air hit the long-term residents and they closed their eyes with ecstasy for a moment, enjoying the feeling. The crooks continued to push them into their open when they paused. The ring was surrounded by, what appeared to be, every single member of the clan; a number that reached around forty or fifty. Jorgnr was currently nowhere to be seen. A dozen or so of the hide-wearing, mud covered thugs were crowding around a man stood atop a crate, holding coin purses in both hands. He was yelling to his friends like a salesman Roll up! Roll up! Place your bets! Jorgnr verses his lieutenant, plus back up! Can our esteemed leader defeat his second in command with additional reinforcement! Place your bets! Youve seen Lincoln fight! Hes as fast as a blade as a starl is to a dive! Will that be enough? You sir, whats your wager!? his shouting and snatching of more coins over the hustle and bustle of the disgusting crowd made for quite lively activity. They were mostly men, with about eight bulky women in the

midst as well. The smell was a distinct sign of the clans lack of personal hygiene but evidently theyd all become immune to the scent a long time ago. Wyatt and the others were marched to the rings edge. Several suits of simple leather armour and a rack of weapons were rolled in front of them by a weedy looking, grey-furred vermus. Take your pick. He said, quite politely. Wyatt glanced through the weapons. ...Where are my daggers?... He grumbled. Lincolns approaching voice sounded behind him Jorgnr wouldnt let up for the ivoryon weapons. Said it was unfair, and such... Lincoln approached Wyatt, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the ivoryon key But I nabbed this for ya. Just use it and well mop im up in a jiff. He handed the key to Wyatt, confidently. Wyatt blinked. Obviously, he had no idea what the vermus meant ...You want me to hit him with it?... ...What? No... Ive seen you callers before, dont play triggled. Open the door... He winked to Wyatt and took his position in the arena, raking some dust into his fingers and rubbing it into his palms. Mordecai walked straight past Wyatt while he pulled a pair of daggers from the rack. The saberl didnt give the weapons or armour a single look, understandably, sitting beside Lincoln and giving him a glare. Wyatt joined him soon afterwards, glancing around at the scenery. The ring was like a fanged maw; wooden barbs the size of small tree trunks were embedded within the dugout craters walls. The dry dust at their feet was stained with crimson patches, as were the stakes. It was impossible to tell how many lives had been lost within this wretched place. Tish and the others picked out some armour and put it on. Tish took a small short sword and sheathed it, before flexing and cracking her hands and knuckles. Fyor coughed, carelessly snatching a spear without thought. Darius rather ambitiously grabbed a great sword. He clearly struggled with the weight a little, but managed to give it a few good swings before stepping into the ring. Elric stood alone at the weapons, pondering for about two minutes Hrrrmmm... See now, I dunno whatd help me die less the most... Theres a shield there Tish pointed behind the rack, and Elric peered over it Oh. Right on! he picked that up Ok... and... this... He lifted a small axe into his hand and waved it a few times Yup. Thisll do. He took a few steps down the ramp, before stopping ...Althooough... Get in the damn ring already before I go up there and drag you in myself Tish snapped. Elric sulked and entered. The betting came to a close and a wall of bandits formed around the rings rim. They jeered and sneered and cheered and leered, shouting some unsavoury and dooming comments down to the party Youre gonna get your innards smashed like a dead fish! Say your prayers, littleuns! Elric made a rude gesture to one of the bandits Go farl yourselves, assholes! Dont make me come down there! One of the bandits roared. Tish pulled Elric back and hushed him with a finger on her lips. He stood down, thankfully. This wasnt an arena held by law, only bloodlust. Making more enemies than they needed would probably be unwise. The distant boom of the forts heavy doors flying open shocked everyone into silence. The bandits all turned their heads, lowering their pointing and cheering limbs. The faint thuds of iron boots followed immediately by a clinking of armour slowly began to make its way over. The thugs dared not make a sound or a move, as if afraid that even an encouraging comment could provoke their chieftains anger. The clanking golems head appeared, towering over the bandits, and several of them parted, allowing Jorgnr to leap from the rim and slam onto the arenas floor. A cloud of dust

billowed from the impact, and by the time it had cleared, Jorgnr was already braced, standing at his full height about twelve metres away. His face was currently hidden behind a thick steel helmet with small wing-like formations at the sides. His armour looked impenetrable with the exception of the joints to allow movement, a gleaming silver in colour with painted tribal insignias. On his back, a heavy double-edged battle axe glinted, waiting for its masters command. Jorgnr looked the group over. No one could tell if he was impressed with the turnout or not, but he raised a hand to the aged vermus and gave him a nod. The vermus cleared his throat, and began to speak Ladies and gentlemen! Tonight you will witness but a taste of your chieftains unbridled fury! He will face off against the treacherous and cowardly Lincoln, his former lieutenant! Along with a crew of our now retired prisoners following our mines cave-in... He coughed, before waving down to Lincoln, Wyatt and the others I give you your challengers, brothers and sisters! The crowd booed and hissed, a few of them making more comments. As they faded, the announcer then waved to Jorgnr And their opponent! JORGNR! THE CRACKED FANG! The bandits cheered, competitively. They tried to have their voices heard over each other; anything to win favour with the man who could crush their skull with his hands alone. Lincoln looked up to Wyatt and whispered Ill get him where you need him... just open the door... He nodded to the key on Wyatts belt. Wyatt again looked confused, but Lincoln didnt register it, turning to the chief as he began to talk in an echoic voice through the helmets grated visor. Your challenge is bold. I expected most of you to cave to your fears... But evidently I underestimated your will... I shall...- He was interrupted by a furious and bestial roar from Mordecai ENOUGH TALK! LET IT END, NOW! He charged, at impressive speed for a saberl with only three paws. Tish roared and followed his example, followed by Wyatt and the others. In a smooth motion, Jorgnr had removed the axe from his back, where he readied it for just a second. Mordecai pounced. Jorgnrs axe didnt fall fast enough to catch him. The chief fell onto his back, rolled, and threw the saberl behind him with a sharp kick. He performed a sweep kick, felling Tish, before quickly getting to his feet (with incredible strength, considering his armour). His axe caught a flurry of blows from Wyatts blades before he slammed the pole into Wyatts forehead, disorientating him and kicking him away. The crowd roared and several members jumped up and down with excitement. Wyatt rolled as he hit the ground, watching Lincoln acrobatically leap around a few of Jorgnrs heavy swings. In an agile display, he sprung onto the flat edge of the axe mid-swing, dashing up the pole and slashing his cutlass across the chiefs visor. Jorgnr snatched him and hurled him into Fyor just as Tish recovered with an uppercut. As she rose, she smacked the helmet from Jorgnrs head, exposing his warpainted face. Jorgnr viciously responded by swinging the axe into the muscle of her leg. She went down, yelling, crippled. He pulled the axe from the wound and smacked her down with the hilt of the weapon. Darius charged, pointing his great sword a little clumsily. Jorngr easily dodged the attack, snatching the sword from the preciphs hand and casting it away. He back-handed Darius, twisting and performing a full spin, building up enough momentum with his axe to obliterate Elrics shield when he tried to block. The group compiled themselves, rising to their feet and surrounding Jorgnr. Tish crawled to the edge of the arena with her injury, using one of the barbs to assist in her rise. They looked to Wyatt, expectantly. What are yer waiting for?! grunted Elric, who was holding his arm that had been supporting the shields weight Ley him! Jorgnr raised an eyebrow to Wyatt, before charging at him, raising the axe above his head. Evidently, he wanted to eliminate the primary threat. Wyatt, just managed to dodge

the blade as it came crashing down, buckling a little as Lincoln sprinted over and vaulted off his back. Lincoln landed on Jorgnrs spine, stabbing the cutlass through his ear. EVEN YOU BLEED, JORGNR! he yelled over the roar of pain. Lincoln was grabbed and thrown off before he could do anymore damage. Jorgnr turned and brought the axe down again to Wyatt. He rolled aside to avoid decapitation. Mordecai roared and charged while Jorgnr was distracted, smashing into his chest and pushing him back towards the spikes. The armour protected him from impalement. He dropped his axe and clamped his gauntlets around Mordecais head. Do you know how I got my name, beast?! Mordecai struggled, snarling, trying to get away. Fyor and Elric charged. Elric swung the axe at Jorgnrs gripping arm, but the armour harmlessly deflected it. Fyor lunged his spear at Jorgnrs face, and he was forced to release the saberl and duck, before delivering a crushing punch to Fyors chest. A sickening crack emitted from the old mans body, and he dropped, without a sound. Jorgnr turned, kicking the saberl into Elric and flooring them both before pursuing Lincoln who was a few feet away. Lincoln seemed to lead the behemoth towards Wyatt as he stood Open the door! he yelled again. Wyatt just shook his head I dont... I dont know how! WHAT?! Lincoln was smashed to the arenas side where he rolled not far from a struggling Tish. Jorgnr pursued, but Tish defiantly moved in his path, reading her fists. Jorgnr growled and swung his axe horizontally. Tish weaved out of the way, before delivering a pair of vicious punches to his face. She leant back into a third punch and delivered it with supreme force. Jorgnrs jaw snapped, and his face disfigured ever so slightly. Amazingly, unfazed by this, Jorgnr snatched Tish, immobilising her, and raised his axe in his spare hand to deliver a killing blow. As he brought the weapon down, Mordecai pounced, shoving Tish to safety. The axe went straight through the beasts spine and he growled lowly, his eyes flickering closed. MOR! NO! Tish was quickly blinded by tears, but as she set herself to charge in fury, she was held back by Elric. Dont throw yer life away, lass. Jorgnr ignored them, kicking the saberls corpse aside. Lincoln engaged him again, ducking an axed sweep and darting between his legs. He ran towards Wyatt, pointing Take your key! Now! Darius, who had recovered his weapon, got in Jorgnrs way while he approached, and kept him busy with a few clumsy brandishes. Wyatt snatched his key Right, now feel the ley in it... The air is not air, its just another tool for Glaces power to reach through! ...How do you... LISTEN AND OBEY! His voice sounded different, more alert, more civilised. He ran back to Darius, assisting him. Wyatt held the key in his hand, focusing on it, intently. It hummed softly in his grip, and he felt the resonating penetrate his mind. Suddenly it was like it was synched with his whole being. He could hear it in his mind, in his very soul. The air... is not air... he repeated to himself, quietly, over the clashing of steel a few metres away. Lincoln vaulted over another swing, slashing at the chieftains joints in his armour IT CALLS TO YOU! AND YOU CALL BACK! He squeaked as Jorgnr caught him with the flat of the axes blade, sending him rolling into a corner. He proceeded to kick out Dariuss legs and elbow drop onto his stomach. Darius choked and writhed, totally winded, unable to breathe. Jorgnr left him gasping for air, marching over to Wyatt, who was transfixed on the key he was still holding. ...They call to us... he looked up at Jorgnr as he raised his axe ...And we call back... Without thinking, he thrust the key forward and twisted it, as you would within a lock. A brilliant ethereal

door blasted into existence, before swinging open just inches in front of Wyatt. A bright, ghostly, blinding light erupted from within, and Jorgnr, with his swing already in motion, moved straight through it. There was a whisper, and a gust of air. Jorgnrs swing continued, but the moment he touched the threshold, it was a product of no force other than gravity. Wyatt stepped aside to avoid the blade as Jorgnr came crashing down, his skin white, his eyes wide open. In the light, Rook could momentarily make out the silhouette of the chieftain, before the transparent door slammed shut, and the light extinguished. The bandits were stunned into silence. Wyatt stared at the key in his hand, before looking down at Jorgnrs motionless body. His breathing had stopped. He was definitely dead. Wyatt stared at his adversary for a moment, before looking up to the fearful crowd that surrounded him ....Fifty sancs on Lincoln? A familiar face was within the crowd, easy to distinguish as it was the only one that was smiling. Zachery nodded in appreciation as his son caught his eye, before he vanished once again. ...RIGHT YOU WEEDS! Lincoln bellowed to the crowd Unless anyone else wants to take a trip through the magic door, I suggest we have a little change of organisationatory blinkets! He sheathed his weapon Im in charge now. The prisoners go free. Well get our gabbins some other way... Were criminals, not sadists, true? He walked up the ramp and through the crowd that quickly parted to his arrival. And stop your gawkin. Dontcha ave work to be doin!? Tish sobbed over the corpse of Mordecai nearby, cursing him for his sacrifice. Elric was at Fyors side, closing his eyes. Jorgnr lay dead; the first human Rook had ever killed. Wyatt looked at his victory, and felt nothing but pain. And yet his father was smiling... What did the Palecallers do that made Lincoln the way he was... and how did he know what he knew? The answers were not far now.

Chapter Eleven In Shadow

Fifty Nights Ago Listen carefully as you ride through the town of Shadowfell, Wyatt. Listen to what the villagers say. If they have pleas or requests, take a moment to listen. If they have threats or complaints, understand them. While The Palecallers are a myth to most of the western world, and indeed to the majority of civilisation, Norvask, and Shadowfell in particular, know some selected truths. Shadowfell can be perceived as a relay point. Whenever a Palecaller travels to Palthgar, they will pass straight through the settlement. Palecallers can be subtle when they want to, but sometimes we need to send a message to the living world, no matter how small it is. There are some loyal to the Divines, and loyal to the Callers. They look upon our place in history and perceive heroism, justice, and beacons of light. There are of course others that look upon The Palecallers through the thin veil of deceit conjured by The Wolfbane Pact and their wranglers. These people will treat you with distrust, or perhaps even cruelty. Finally, there are people who will look upon us with nothing but first and second hand accounts, and through nothing but truth. These people are the ones you will see run. They will call in their children, slam their doors, shut their windows and draw their curtains. They will hide and cower as you pass by, even without a single ill-intent in your body. These people are usually the intelligent ones. I wont lie; everyone has a reason to fear The Palecallers. There may be times when your morality is questioned. You may be asked by the spirits to perform acts that make you ask whether or not it is truly worth it. A dead mans unfinished business, Wyatt, can be a terrible thing. Sometimes they will be reasonable, and their task will be easy to carry out. They will ask you to inform a loved one of their demise, or to ensure an item finds its way to another. Others, however, will ask for vengeance. Some will ask for murder. Some may even ask for genocide. You have to assess the gain and the risk for each and every single spirit that haunts this plain. On one hand, youre freeing a spirit. On another, what risk are you posing to the public? You are expected to be a force of good; to abide by rules that will keep your moral choices in check, but is it immoral to kill a killer? If there is someone out there, creating more spirits in his or her wake to satisfy a sick need, is it truly a sin to erase them completely? The spirits you find will certainly oppose that view. When murdered unjustly, senselessly, more often than not, a spirit will not be at peace until vengeance is enacted. Do you wonder why we give you daggers, Wyatt? Why we place a pistol in your hands? All the metal and black powder in the world cannot harm a ghost... But its surprisingly effective on the living. Your casts are too. Killing will never be something you should enjoy, but it should be something you come to terms with, sooner rather than later. Rime is, and will always be, a deadly place. Think of yourself not as part of society... Not as part of the law. Just another force of nature that will punish the wicked and banish the evil. It all sounds rather sanctimonious and fanatical at first, but when you see what the others have seen... When you hear the forlorn wails of a damned echo, screaming for justice because she was burnt alive for none other than sadistic enjoyment...You start to realise that even death is too good for some people... So listen well, my son. Listen to the masses. They can tell you more of your future than I can...

Present Day Wyatts eyelids flickered open as he awoke; stirred by the voice of his father for what felt like the thousandth time. The carriage was once again on the move, rumbling gently along the detached dirt road. They were off the main trade route now, which was good news. The chances of bumping into wranglers dropped each second they moved deeper into Norvasks wilderness. The chiming of his ivoryon belongings was a good noise to wake up to. Lincoln had returned them to him before allowing the prisoners to leave. Darius was watching the road and directing the woolorths when needed. He and Wyatt were once again alone following the escape from Cracked Fang Keep several days ago. Wyatt had offered to take the others with them, but they had their own plans. Tish had taken Mordecais and Fyors bodies to be buried in her ancestral grounds to the north. Elric had returned to Divines Reserve to take a ship back to Glascan. Since Zacherys brief appearance at the fights climax, he too had been missing. This dream was the first time Wyatt had heard his fathers voice since the last one. He had questions to answer, so his avoidance was hardly surprising. Wyatt sat up, rubbing his back where it had been resting on the uncomfortable bedroll upon the carriages wooden floor. The last of Luminas light would soon wash over Rime, before the world began its journey away from the sun. It was fortunate this journey had taken place during the warmer months. If it had been just sixty days from now, the snow would have been a hindrance, and Darius, with his cushy lifestyle, would likely not have been able to tolerate the cold. It was breakfast time, so Wyatt wandered casually over to one of the open crates as he had done almost every morning. His insistence of sleep had turned Darius slightly nocturnal but sacrifices must be made, as Zachery would probably say. Snatching up a few strips of what appeared to be dried beef, Wyatt trotted to the carriages door and pushed it open. The warm light of a clear Norvaskan dawn breached the darkness. Wyatt squinted as he climbed out and clambered onto the seat beside Darius. Lao currently had his head hung and his eyes closed. He was snoozing very quietly, but the woolorths didnt seem to mind. Theyd proceeded without his direction. Rook poked Dariuss side a few times. The preciph groaned. ...Is it your turn yet?... Wyatt took the reins from Dariuss limp hands That it is. Go ahead and rest. Well be at Shadowfell soon. Wyatt looked into the distance If Zacherys right, then we might need our strength. I dont want angry villagers jabbin me with pitchforks due to our unsavoury history... Right... Darius said, stifling a yawn. He stretched all four of his limbs simultaneously, before standing and preparing to descend the drivers stand. As he hooked his leg over the chair, he paused, and turned to Wyatt ...Are you... well? He asked. Here it came; the talk. Wyatt had been anticipating this exciting endeavour. Im fine. Go get some sleep. Its just... Youve been a little... unenergetic. You havent insulted me for days, your appetite isnt quite what it used to be... and youre occasionally having trouble sleeping. Im nervous, is all. No youre not. You killed someone and its haunting you. Wyatt sighed. It aint that. Farl knows its wrong to enjoy killin but sometimes I see no fault to it. That man needed to die, and I aint gonna object to such a fate upon him. If it were the same situation again, Id repeat that part.

Then whats upsetting you? Wyatt didnt answer. He fumbled with the reins a little, coughing to try and fill the void of conversation. ...You blame yourself for the others dying? ...I had that key... If Id just grasped that sooner, I could have beaten Jorgnr without the others... maybe... If we hadnt all been there, youd have never had the time to learn. Lincoln assumed I knew how to open that... door thing. I made him assume that... I put that thought in his head. If Id been patient... Maybe we could have waited a few days... Zachery could have come back and this whole ordeal would have been less...bloody. They volunteered... Wyatt, you gave them a choice. A fair one. I wish I hadnt. Wyatt looked at Darius, a slightly pained expression in his eyes And theres another thing... somethin that worries me. You saw how scared Lincoln was... no doubt you heard what Zachery said in your mind too... What do the Palecallers do? I dont wanna become some... murderer at the whim of a dead man... Im a thief. This aint part of my game. Im sure there are ways to avoid crimes. Darius patted Rooks shoulder, giving him a warm smile Be at peace, Wyatt. Your father will return soon and he can lay to rest any concerns you have, Im sure. Lao retracted his hand and hopped down from the seat, entering the carriage. The door creaked closed behind him. Wyatt stuffed the beef strips into his mouth, chewing crudely and leaning back on his seat. A thin layer of mist was rolling over the grassy plains before him. Norvask stretched in all directions like a sea of green. Solitary trees dotted the landscape, with even fewer manmade structures. A few crumbled forts and guard towers from the old wars were still standing, just. Through the vaporous veil, some farmhouses and fences were just about visible. It wasnt hard to work out why Norvask was the primary source of livestock and fresh produce; there was so much space to grow and graze on. Looking at the lush grasslands and the ambient atmosphere, it was hard to imagine the rumours of Norvask were true. Norvask was somewhat separated from the kingdom, and civilisation was a little underdeveloped. Apparently, where one had law in The Everlast Woods, one would simply have vigilantism in Norvask. Strangers were supposedly poorly received, and most disputes were settled with fists rather than with words. The Ivory Reach however looked just as foreboding as it had always been described. It loomed over the lands as if it had surpassed it and somehow won. Its icy peaks pierced the highest clouds and its rocky form cast a shadow miles long across the verdant fields. Somewhere in that maze of snow and stone, The Palecallers were waiting for them. The Ivory Reach was so uninviting, and Wyatt suspected that would not change the closer they drew. Even from this distance, it was clear that the woolorths and the carriage would have to stay behind. That was a shame; hed grown quite fond of Whythe and Longface. The Ivory Reach would have to be tackled on foot. Hopefully there werent too many nasty critters living there. The size of the carriage and its woolorth labours had so far deterred any would-be man eaters, but a saberl had come dangerously close to the wheels the other day. It was quiet in Norvask, with nothing much to be heard of the calm breeze and constant clacking of the rickety worn-down wheels. They passed another sign post of simple but practical design. It confirmed they were heading in the right direction; towards Shadowfell, the town at the foot of the Reach. According to Tish, all Palecallers had to pass through Shadowfell to reach Palthgar, so that was their destination. Normally theyd have Zachery to guide them, but he was evidently preoccupied with something else. Some father he was.

Wyatt slouched in his chair. He wasnt fully awake yet. Sometimes hed hop off the cart and walk alongside it to generate some energy, but right now, hed rather just watch the world go by. A faint glittering light appeared in his peripheral vision on the seat beside him, and he rolled his eyes, sitting up straight. About time. Where the farl have you been? He turned his head to look at the spirit. Except it wasnt the right spirit. It was another man, short fat and balding wearing the brown robes of a monk. He looked at Wyatt, and gave an innocent smile. Hello. Wyatt grimaced a little. ...Unless Zachery has put on a few dozen pounds and lost all his hair, I suggest you start explainin yourself right now... Ah... You must be Zacherys son. Yes, he said you had a short fuse. Your colleague is inside, I trust? He sure aint out here... Wyatt sarcastically remarked And you are? Kingsly. Im the handler for two of the other initiates. I thought Id merely drop by to meet you whilst my initiates are... oh shall we say... caught up in their own immature ways... Wyatt looked puzzled. The spirit chuckled and pointed off the side of the cart See for yourself. The thundering of hooves and overworked wheels suddenly came shooting up the dirt road. A large carriage, similarly sized to Wyatts and Dariuss practically flew past them, a pair of girls at the reins, one human, one vermus. The appeared to be wrestling and shouting insults to one another in the brief moment they were visible. In seconds, the speeding woolorths pulled the cart from audible range once again, leaving a trail of dust in their wake. Wow... Wyatt said, scratching his head ...Tough break. Their conflictions were foreseen. That is why The Callers chose me... I am eternally patient... Even as he said that, Wyatt saw a slight twitch in the mans eye. ...Everyones got their limits, bud. You know where Zachery is? Hes neglectin us, some. Your father has been tirelessly investigating a matter he would not disclose to me. He asked that when we all meet in Shadowfell that I inform him. He shall return to us then. It is only a few hours ride from here. You will have time to get acquainted with your three other initiates, before we leave for Palthgar. Wyatt nodded, before realising something Wait. Three? Zachery told me thered be four others... Kingsly sighed and averted his gaze There was. Sadly the process is far from safe... Wyatt felt his heart sink ...Oh... What happened? I am not at liberty to discuss the events... but should the partnering initiate wish to tell you, he is more than welcome. Wyatt shrugged. It was possible the other initiate was responsible for his partners death, and he wanted the information to remain with him. Fair enough. Since Zachery is occupied, I shall inform you of our next move. We are to meet in The Mountains Shadow, a tavern centred in Shadowfell. Try to keep your ivoryon gear hidden at all times, and avoid talking to the villagers, if you can. Palecallers have been loved and hated in Shadowfell, and one is not worth the other. Remain in neutrality until you are fully trained. You are not ready. Please ensure your partner knows this as well. Right. Gotcha. Good said Kingsly I should get back to my initiates. Sadly, unlike Zachery, I simply cannot leave mine for extend periods of time... I fear theyd kill each other... Wyatt chuckled, giving a small salute

Good luck. As he drew his hand down over his eye when dropping the salute, Kingsly vanished. Wyatt watched the carriage of the female initiates rumbling into the distance at high speed. As selfish as it was, he felt a twinge of pride. It would seem he and Darius were not the most dysfunctional pairing after all. The cart rumbled onwards for the next few hours. The mist cleared and the sun rose higher. A fairly large but very flat settlement came into view. Most Norvask homes and civic buildings were longhouses and bungalows. A lot of them had quite high roofs, and a few even had towers, but overall the town was all on a single level. It was a gem of simplicity compared to the staircase structure of Lakebank. Out in Norvask, class and wealth were not represented through elevation of estates, it would seem. It would be around midmorning when they arrived. If this place was anything like Fern, the market stalls would be being set up. Light traffic could be seen around the towns rims and through the streets. Woolorths were in heavy abundance here, as the plains of Norvask were their home. The Ivory Reach towered and loomed. Shadowfell was sprawled at the giants feet. An ascending pathway into The Reachs grip curved upwards from a point within the town itself. Why anyone would want to live in this colossuss shadow was beyond Rook. He much preferred his forest. Closer still they drew, and more features came into sight. People were walking the streets, dressed in thick hides and often adorned with trophies of some kind. Many of them wore the skulls, fangs or claws of beasts as crude, jagged charms. They were all armed with something; mostly axes of varying sizes. Woolly nimbeep and mooing moko roamed the streets seemingly without escort, likely the property of a family nearby in need of wool and milk. Their baaing and mooing were almost as loud as the villagers themselves. Most of the voices were low with a norvaskan accent. Many people were shouting; town criers, market vendors, disgruntled drunks... The fact that there were drunks this early in the morning was a slightly worrying sign, but itd be hypocritical of Wyatt to judge them for this alone. Hed been there a few times too. The town was much more rural and wild than Lakebank had been. The roads were not pathed with stone, merely stripped of grass. Most of the houses were made of wood, while some were made of mud bricks. Every single building visible had some sort of crest upon its walls or hanging above the doors. As Wyatt admired these from a distance, a still tired looking Darius emerged from the carriage, likely disturbed from his sleep by the sound of encroaching vivacity. Wyatt helped him up onto the drivers stand when he struggled, and the pair of them marvelled at this alien culture. Pretty impressive, aint it? Wyatt began, waving his hands towards a few buildings Folk out here live without walls, without guards, without wranglers... and they are lookin as fine as you or I. Indeed. Ideally placed too... They must use The Ivory Reach to shield them from eastern winds. Wyatt nodded in realisation. Darius pointed at some of the crests See those? Those are family banners: The more common the banner is, the larger or more powerful the family is. I was taught a little bit about Norvaskan culture at school. Neat... Wyatt clicked his fingers, glancing to Darius Oh, another spirit visited me... One of Zacherys friends. Were to head to a tavern in the town centre. Apparently well meet the rest of the misfits there... Darius beamed How exciting. Im eager to hear how their journeys faired. Yeah, well... Dont get too hyped. Apparently one of them is dead already. Dariuss expression dropped, in the same way a clumsy child drops a toy. ....Oh.... The pair of them fell silent as the carriage rolled its way into town. Wyatt tucked his weapons and key away deep inside his cloak, ensuring their harmonic songs were muffled into silence. They rode by dozens of villagers. Some of the men gave Wyatts coat a

glance, before thudding their hands to their hearts twice in quick succession. Darius informed him this was a symbol of respect; they must have recognised the sleeper fur and assumed he killed it. They passed by shops, smiths, several taverns and combat training schools. As they rode past a stable, chock full of healthy looking woolorths, Wyatt spotted the carriage that had blazed past earlier. It was parked outside of a large longhouse. A sigil swung from a chain above the porch. It displayed a blunted axe on the background of a field of tree stumps. Upon riding closer, the words The Mountains Shadow were hanging just above the family crest with a wooden plaque and a nail. Wyatt parked the cart a few metres before the first, ensuring it wouldnt become an obstruction to the other citizens. He and Darius hopped down from the drivers stand and approached the door. The sounds of light tavern activity reached their ears. Wow... Darius began, as they stopped at the door Fairly early for customers... Ive never seen a tavern with more than a single man in it before midday at least... Wyatt snorted, raising an eyebrow to his friend Youve never even seen a tavern, full stop. Darius seemed to sulk slightly at this I have!.... He added, a little guiltily ...Once... Wyatt burst out laughing, clapping a hand on Laos shoulder and winking Dont worry, bud. I consider myself truly at home in this environment. Just stick with me, and no one will get hurt. This place is probably mighty peaceful anyhow. As he said that, the door swung open on reinforced hinges (likely to support the amount of thick headed barbarians thrown through it.) A large man with a braided ginger beard shot out and slammed onto the road. He proceeded to not move, groaning a little and giving the odd hiccup. Darius stared with a semi-controlled chunk of fear. Wyatt, his hand still on Laos shoulder, simply pointed to the injured drunk See, now him? He didnt stick with me. Come on. Lets go. Rook caught the door as it swung shut again and walked in, practically dragging Darius with him. A small group had gathered around something in the rooms centre. They were chanting and cheering in a blood lusting manner, suggesting that what was happening was combat orientated. Rook spotted Kingsly, the fat balding spirit in the rooms corner alone. He walked over, bringing Darius with him, and the pair of them joined the ghost at his table. Wherere your girls? Wyatt said, glancing back to the commotion once again with curiosity. ...I believe they are encircled by a group of a dozen or so spectators while they once again engage in mortal combat... Wyatt raised an eyebrow ...So thats your version of subtlety? In my defence, Master Rook, they are doing a better job of blending in than you are. Kingsly grinned Here in Norvask, the people live for blood. He set his gaze upon Darius Ah and you must be the one from Lakebank. Lao, was it? Darius nodded. Excellent. My name is Kingsly. Im a handler spirit, like Zachery, who Im told will be here shortly. Darius gave a second nod before nervously surveying his surroundings ...Very... cosy... You have money, right Lao? I do, yes. Swell! Wyatt waved over one of the waiters; a young attractive woman, no doubt hired based on her apparel alone in such an environment. What can I get for you? she said, batting her eyelashes.

Ill have a pine cider... Wyatt requested. The woman wrote the order on a small slate with a piece of chalk And you, hun? She said to Darius upon completion. Oh... Darius scratched his head. Ill have a... crimberry juice... Silence washed through the tavern as every man and woman within turned to look at Lao. Even the fight stopped, two bruised faces popping out through the crowd to get a look at whatever had caught their crowds attention. Darius coughed before adding ...mixed with... a firebrand whiskey. The waitress beamed and wrote that down. The taverns activity gradually resumed. Dariuss blunder seemed to have ended the fight, for now. Without the moral support of their enchanting audience, the two beaten females pushed exited their combat ring, and the crowd dispersed to various tables and stools around the bar. Ah... Looks like they are done said Kingsly, patiently. Master Rook, Master Lao... Id like you to meet Anya and Elizabeth. Anya was a human with blonde hair and a few black streaks through it. She had a few braids with charms hanging from them here and there. Her face was stern, with several scars on her cheeks and one over her lip. Her eyes were a dull green, their colour amplified slightly by the black and blue rings around them. Her body was well built, with muscles particularly on her arms. Most of her was hidden behind a thick giggoth*-fur coat, but a pair of steel capped boots was visible poking out from the base. She had a one handed war axe attached to her leather belt, along with some other survivalist essentials; such as rope, waterskins and ice picks. It must have been swelteringly hot inside that thick hide coat, but she seemed totally unfazed by it. She looked like a real fighter; more of a fighter than Rook. Judging from the coat and the rest of her general attire, it was safe to assume she was born in Norvask, and her journey here likely was much shorter than his had been. Elizabeth was a vermus with light brown fur and a sandy coloured underside. Like many vermus, she seemed quite well groomed and mannered, with a good posture and clean apparel. The various cuts on her muzzle and body didnt bolster her image in a positive way, however. The tufts of fur below her black nose were stained sanguine. Her ears had a few chips and chunks missing. She wore what looked like the torn remnants of quite an expensive dress. Where there used to be a long skirt was now only a torn rag that dropped to her knees. No doubt such a flowing gown would have been awkward to travel in, especially when running on all fours as vermus do when they need to move quickly. She had a belt of weapons that didnt match her outfit at all, suggesting it was added on afterwards as a precaution. It contained a series of short, sharp objects; mostly small knives and steel tipped darts. She had much less gear on her than Anya did; but she did have a bandolier of bottles and vials hooked over her shoulder. Upon closer inspection, a chain with a tiny glass cube was seen around her neck. Within the cube, a few pinches of a glittering dust: The curious symbol of The Drelalti, a famous group of alchemists. The two girls sat down at the table, opposite one another, either side of Wyatt. They never stopped exchanging glares, even as Kingsly tried to introduce the others to them Anya, Lizzy... This is Wyatt and Darius. They have gone through the same processes as you Without moving their heads, or even blinking, the girls replied *Giggoths are mammoth sized ungulates that roam the Norvaskan plains. They are tenacious, hardy and difficult to kill with a complex and defensive family structure. While normally docile herd creatures, the nine tonne giggoths have a pair of thick horns to attack with, and their own colossal bodyweight to crush predators like bugs beneath boots.

Well met... said the vermus. Elizabeth had a civil accent, similar to Vince. Yeah... grunted Anya with a sneer. She had a Norvaskan accent, as Rook had predicted. She eventually tore her leer from Elizabeth, and (unfortunately) set it upon Wyatt. Wyatt recoiled a little in his seat ....My, what big eyes you have... He said as she stared, trying to defuse some of the tension with some light humour. She scowled You think youre funny? The moment Anya said this, Elizabeth, as if sensing a weakness, burst out laughing Oh Darius! Your wit is without bounds! Wyatt awkwardly pointed to Lao sat beside him Uh, thats Darius. Im Wyatt. He then beamed But thank you for the compliment. Anya shot a fierce look to Wyatt, then back to Elizabeth once again. ....You think thats funny? Youre even more pathetic than I realised. Elizabeth raised one of her paws, forming a mouth with her fingers and opening and closing it in quick succession along with Anyas words. Be civil, Anya dearest. Lizzy turned to Rook and Lao Its lovely to meet you... And refreshing to see what seems to be a stable friendship within this... organisation. Darius gestured to Lizzys nose Youre bleeding... Lizzy widened her eyes very slightly, bringing a paw to her snout and checking it for blood Huh... You know, Im surprised I have any blood left... thanks to this one... She pointed to Anya without looking. Anya growled Clearly I didnt try hard enough... Elizabeth ignored her. Wheres your handler? No idea. Wyatt answered, with a shrug Apparently hell be here soon. I hear youve been giving Kingsly here some trouble. Lizzy giggled, turning and pouting at the spirit sat nearby Awww Kingsly Wingsly! I thought you were eternally patient I am, child. Kingsly answered. I need only wait for you to... tire yourselves out, as usual. Wyatt snorted Never worked for my ma, I assure you. Folk need discipline. Anya slammed her hand on the table, glaring at Wyatt once again Were not all children, like you. Wyatt leant forward a little, smiling innocently at Anya ...Yall wanna calm the farl down? I aint done a damn thing to provoke you. Anya just stared I appreciate youre a little worked up after that fight, but how about we all make peace for a while and give a nice impression to initiate number five when they arrive. A flagon of pine cider thudded down in front of Rook, brought over by the waitress. A second mug soon sloshed before Darius as well. Lao handed over a few coins, and the waitress walked off. Rook took his drink, keeping his trap shut while the two female initiates calmed themselves in the silence. After a time, Kingsly spoke The fifth should be here soon. Ive been told that it would be best to treat him with a level of restraint and kindness. He has, by far, had the hardest time of all of you, and the road has taken its toll. We fought fenrye... said Wyatt We were imprisoned by bandits... Youre saying thats not as bad as what this fella had to go through?... Kingsly smiled, sadly Im afraid it doesnt even come close. Please dont unload your problems or harsh opinions upon him until you are properly acquainted.He looked at the human woman, who was in the final stages of total relaxation That includes you, Anya.

So long as he treats me with respect, Ill do the same back... Hes human, right? She glanced to Elizabeth ...Not another weasel... Hes a human... yes... And please keep your stagnant brand of racism to yourself. This is no way for an initiate of the Palecallers to behave. Ill behave how I want, old man. I doubt that this tool has had a rougher time than I have. Lets see if his partner tried to kill him in his sleep! Elizabeth rolled her eyes You were having a nightmare! I was trying to help! Like farl you were. Youre just like all the other rats in their sewers... You shot me! Elizabeth shouted, turning a few heads. Anya shrugged Kingsly told me too. THREE TIMES! I wanted to make sure. Shut up Kingsly interrupted, rather peacefully. Now. Anya and Lizzy raised eyebrows, looking to their handler Do you want the people of Shadowfell turning on you already? Your kind is not always appreciated. I suggest if you ever want to pass through The Koramas Archway that you shut your insolent little traps. Wait in silence if you must. The ghost took a deep breath. Wyatt couldnt help but smirk a little. He turned to Lao and whispered Hey. Darius took a sip of his drink, coughing loudly as the firebrand went down. Nggh! Argh!... Wh...What? Ten sancs says Kingsly cracks while we climb the Reach? Darius glanced to Kingsly If hes eternally patient as he says, thats an easy win. Im in He shook Rooks outstretched hand. Rook masked the subtle deal by trying to start a conversation that didnt spit poison every word So... Anya. The woman turned to him. Her battle rage had subsided, without a doubt. She would likely be more easily to banter with now Where abouts from Norvask are you from? Bjorns Fort That explained it. Her behaviour now could even be considered mildly pleasant considering her background. Any criminal, no matter where they were from, had heard of Bjorn Malakide, the leader of the most dangerous and successful bandit clan currently in Sovreignous; The Bloodied Sons. Ah... Howd the big man feel about you leaving? How do you think? He branded me a traitor, like he does with all his deserters. Sent three of his assassins after me while Kingsly droned on about the greater good. Whyd you leave? Werent you happy? Anya gave him a look that could scare a lesser man to death Were done talking about this. I dont know you, and I dont want to. You think you can waltz in here with your fancy sleeper fur coat and win me over like the rest of these idiots? Did you even kill that sleeper? Wyatt shook his head, a little reluctant to show what must have looked like weakness to her No. My father did it before I was born. Anya snorted Oh daddy dearest! Save me from the mean troll! See this? she pointed to her giggoth coat See this? I killed this myself. I didnt need my farling papa to fight my battles for me. Wyatt smirked, unable to contain the wave of sarcasm that followed As I said, I wasnt yet born. However, I gotta commend you on your hunt. Im sure those six metre long giggoths are masters of stealth. Anya clenched her fists Even in broad day light, I hear

theyre impossible to find. Anya stood up, quickly, spilling Dariuss drink as she did so. Darius looked somewhat grateful, but tried to hide it. You looking for a fight, Wyatt? Anya spat Wheres your daddy to defend you now? A familiar voice spoke from Kingslys side Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Zachery was sat beside his friend, his feet resting on the table Kingsly, your initiate. Shes broken.He said, giving Kingsly a sympathetic look. Anya growled, pointing a stubby finger at Zachery Now you listen here. Zachery straightened up, bringing his feet down and pointing back No. You listen. You are not in Kingslys care anymore. You are in mine. If you think The Bloodied Sons made your life hell then you cannot possibly begin to imagine what I can do. You will fall in line like the rest of your colleagues or I swear to you, we will leave you behind. Lets see how well you handle yourself against Bjorns cutthroats once you dont have us to guide you. Your behaviour is disgraceful and will have no place within Palthgar. If the blades of your master dont frighten you enough, then you should be wise to fear what lies beyond our gates. Remedy your afflicted personality, Anya, or simply keep it to yourself. Better initiates than you have failed and died for less than your appalling racism and your insufferable pride. The table fell silent. Anya stared at Zachery for a long time, not with anger, but with a slowly decaying sense of insecurity. After a moment, she wiped her eyes, stood up and walked away, leaving the tavern. Farl... Wyatt said, scratching his head. He gestured to Kingsly See, now thats discipline. Lao looked after Anya, concern across his face ...Will she be alright? Shell be fine. Kingsly said Shell wait outside until shes compacted her emotions into a hardened ball once again. He looked at Zachery I told you, brother. Shes a lot more fragile than she makes out to be. Lizzy grunted, pulling Wyatts drink over without asking Sure could have fooled me... Wyatt reached over, tugging the drink back into his care once again. Lizzy stared with bewilderment, as if this had never happened before. She looked to Wyatt before smirking a little Touch. Youre a noble. Bright observation... but... not quite correct. Wyatt gestured to the alchemic symbol A member of the Drelalti Zachery looked surprised at Wyatts knowledge. Lizzy leant forward on her elbows, tilting her head at Rook And what do you know of the Drelalti? Eh... not a lot. Sometimes their salesmen would come to my hometown, peddling weird potions and medicines. I never really believed any of it but a bunch of folks ate their words right up. Indeed. Although its not just words... I assure you, our remedies do work. She scratched her muzzle Im the daughter of Briark Brewerboast. Hes one of the founding members of the organisation... I was... well... rather spoiled. The founders got a large chunk of the profits and plenty of that went to me. No one would dare defy me or resist my actions because my father would supposedly poison them. Poisons were his expertise, you see? They called me the Princess of Poison. Aha. Wyatt began. He slid his drink over to Lizzy, who rolled her eyes and took a sip (the flagon was very large for her vermus hands, but she managed.) So what happened to the princess of poison that made her wanna jump her fathers ship?

All very fairy tale really. Ever heard that story of a princess who gets tired of being a princess and wants to actually achieve something? Well thats me. When I wasnt in Valleys End with the rest of the Drelalti, Id be out in the wilds. In fact I was out in the wilds when Anya found me, under direction of the bald man. She pointed to Kingsly She didnt say a word when I greeted her, just raised that ivoryon pistol and fired... then raised another iron flintlock and fired again. Before my consciousness slipped, she was reloading... Im afraid she misunderstood, Master Rook Kingsly began She thought I wanted Elizabeth dead. Lizzy is most fortunate her ley saved her. I didnt even get an apology. I am unaware of what Anya has been through to make her hate my kind so much... Although its not just the vermus... She hates the fenrye too, and the ley-risen. She sipped the drink again Anything with fur, fangs or claws is a target for her. She slid the drink back to Wyatt Consider yourself lucky, Wyatt. Lao leant forward and asked But why enable her? You fight her, you argue with her... Is that not what she wants? Lizzy giggled softly, running a claw along her whiskers I suppose part of me is still a princess, throwing tantrums at disrespect. She shrugged Ill get over it. There are people on Rime who need saving, and Im looking forward to it... Even with Kingslys boring voice droning on in my head every few days. Wyatt laughed and nodded I know, right?! Brain punching dreams! Your handler punches your brain? I wish Kingsly did that. With him, its like watching paint dry. He doesnt punch my brain... just... dabs it lightly with a sponge. She added For about five minutes. Were right here, you know... Zachery said, with a slight smile. Kingsly did not look amused, but then he had yet to really look anything. After a few more minutes of conversation, Zachery tapped his head, and nodded Your fifth is here. Hes been through a lot so go easy on him. We know, we know Lizzy said. She straightened her tattered dress and quickly groomed her fur. Wyatt and Lao swivelled around to watch the door. A few seconds passed by, before the door swung open once again. A cloaked, hooded man practically limped in, very slowly. He dragged an unsheathed sword along the ground behind him, which scratched the wooden floorboards with each step. A few strands of black hair were hanging from within the hood, likely the mans fringe. The cloak and hood were all black, crested with starl feathers. The main body of the cloak appeared to be simple leather from a moko, but it was dyed as black as night with a manmade pigment. A single dark, haunted eye stared out from the hood for a moment, settling upon the group gathered around the table. Wyatt turned to see a third spirit had appeared beside Zachery, leaning against the wall. Somehow, he looked even more exhausted than the initiate did. He must have died at an old age, and looked to be somewhere in his seventies. He had a white pointed beard and a drawn back hanging pony tail. His skin was withered and pale, his eyes were dull and tired, and expression conveyed a mixture of relief, and perhaps a little caution. The old man was garbed in robes of striking similarity to Kingslys. It was possible they had a similar origin. The fifth initiate approached, still hauling his heavy broadsword behind him. It sung its ivoryon tune, snatching the attention of a few individuals. ...What is he doing?! Lizzy hissed to the others under her breath. Hell blow our cover. I think he wants to, dear. The new, old spirit said I could not convince him otherwise. I cannot convince him of anything... as of late. He coughed and waved, casually I am Orphus, by the way.

The man pulled a chair from a free table and plonked it down beside the others. He sat between Darius and Lizzy, propping his sword upright and staring into space. A glint of armour crept out from beneath his cloak, which rested upon the ground, shrouding his boots. Lizzy slowly reached over, closing her fingers around the swords blade. It stopped vibrating the moment she gripped it. We dont need the attention, slick... she said, looking at him with a controlled level of sternness and sensitivity. The man looked back at her. He said nothing. ...Im Elizabeth. Thats Wyatt, and this is Darius. The woman with the axe outside is Anya. Shes with us too. Still the man remained silent. He acknowledged the presence of the others with a few quick glances. Lizzy waited, expectantly, assumedly for the man to introduce himself. He did not. Wyatt examined the man more closely, but what was available to him gave very little away. ...So... Uh... Whats your name? Lizzy asked. She was struggling to keep this very one-sided conversation alive. The man in black stared for a short while, before turning to look at a group of Norvaskans that had their sights fixed on his sword ...My name was one of the things I left behind... he said, after unnerving the onlookers enough to turn away The realm of the living is no longer my own. He reached up, and pulled his hood down. Some mid-length black hair flopped before his eyes, but it was possible even through the fringe to work out one of them was missing. A scarred mess was all that remained of his left eye. His skin was very pale, as if trapped in a state of perpetual trauma. Other than his eye, his face was clean shaven, undamaged and quite normal. Call me Vagrant... for I have no home. Zachery leant forward, giving his co-handler a look of disapproval for allowing this sadness to take hold. You have a home. Palthgar has been a home for Palecallers for centuries... No... Vagrant glanced to Zachery, his eye twinkling with a hint of malice There is no place in the living world that I would call my own. When my body is cold... and my spirit crosses over... then... then... I will have my name back... No one dared argue. There was something quite unsettling about the mans voice. It was tender and soft, but filled with a coldness one could scarcely imagine. Darius Zachery began, gesturing to the preciph Could you bring Anya back in, please? Were all here now. Its time we brief you Darius nodded. He stood up and left the tavern, leaving Wyatt and Lizzy trying not to be caught staring at the newcomer. Once Anya had returned, without a fragment of the weakness shed previously shown, the spirits began their final briefing. Zachery took the lead. Youve all journeyed far to get here, initiates. Some of you have travelled further than others, and some of you have suffered terribly. Youve endured conflict, confinement, and some of you have been hunted restlessly by our old enemies; the Wranglers. Wyatt watched Zacherys eyes carefully as he spoke, but he made no subconscious indications as to which initiates he was referring to Weve all pushed you hard... But we need to push you just a little further now. The climb to Ivory Reach is a hard one, but it is an important one. Upon a single completion, youll find it much easier a second time, and then even easier a third. Eventually you will be able to run the paths entirety. The first time however... You will struggle. It is ancient tradition that the six initiates meet at this town before ascending. Kingsly began As you will need one another for support. Climbing The Ivory Reach alone is no simple feat. With friends at your side, you will find less difficulties. I dont understand... Lizzy said Its just stone and snow. What is hard about it? Im afraid it is not the path alone that is treacherous Orphus practically whispered, his voice weak The wildlings, and the wildlife are not to be trifled with... Not to mention of course... The iv-.. Now now, Orphy. Zachery interrupted, suspiciously, clapping his hand against his friends shoulder Theres no need to fill our friends minds with myths and stories.

Indeed nodded Kingsly All you need to worry about is the thin air, the cold and the fatigue. Im sure you will all perform admirably. Bring enough supplies from your carts to last two days. The woolorths and the carriages stay behind. The Callers have contacts here, they will take care of them. We will stop for one night in a cave Im familiar with chirped Zachery, enthusiastically. Caller initiates typically sleep there without problems. Anya, Im giving you some firewood. Wyatt, you too. The two of them groaned. Does anyone have any questions? Everyone shook their head. Excellent. Lets be on our way. Once all of the required resources had been gathered from the carriages, a single man with a passphrase came and took the carts away to a safe location. He provided Darius and Elizabeth with more suitable cold weather clothing as well. The pair of them looked a little odd in thick hides, but they made no complaints. The five initiates walked through the town together, approaching the centre. In the settlements very core, a ramp ascended into the mountains that shadowed it. Standing at the foot of this enormous ramp was a tall monument; an archway, made of white marble. The archway had carvings with narrative structure, panels sequenced in what must have been chronological order. The panels displayed great battles, and a hero who brought them to a close. This is The Koramas Archway... the gateway to The Ivory Reach... Zachery told Wyatt, as the group gathered before it. It was built as homage to the greatest Palecaller that ever lived; Gray Koramas. Darius nodded, his mouth open in realisation as he recalled something from his past. They taught us about him in school... They said he was killed by wranglers. Anya snorted as she marched straight by Cant have been all that, then. Wyatt said nothing. He was too busy staring upwards at the archways rise. Three skeletons hung from the stone above him, gently swaying in the wind. They were slung by their necks ...Who were they?.... Wyatt asked, pointing. The others looked as well. Kingsly rubbed his chin and sighed As we mentioned... The Palecallers are not always well received... Lizzy looked shocked, widening her eyes and gawking at her master Youre saying they killed Callers? Hung them up as a warning?! Kingsly smirked, then shook his head No no, dear girl. Its a warning, all right... But not for us... He hummed a tune to himself and wandered off up the path, following Anya. Wyatt felt his stomach drop as Vagrant quite kindly voiced his fears If they arent a warning to the callers... Then they are a warning from them....

Chapter Twelve Emanation

Fifty Four Nights Ago Theres a special kind of peace in The Ivory Reach... The peace brought on by fear. Open a book describing its unexplored majesty and you will find pages devoted to the folklore and myths that deter all but Rimes bravest. There are stories of monsters and people who have lost their civil ways and resort to mindless savagery by impulse. Before my own demise, Id heard rumours of fenrye nesting in the jagged peaks, and spiders as large as carriages devouring the foolish on their ventures. Some of those rumours were spread by us; the Palecallers. We dont want people climbing The Serpent Path and knocking at our gates. You may think it has something to do with territorial claim, but it is in fact for their own protection. Some of the rumours were spread by us. The rest... are sadly very real. The Ivory Reach has claimed the lives and bodies of many explorers and adventurers. They dont just die; they vanish, never to be seen again. Even to this day, the people of Shadowfell and the world beyond have no clue who or what is responsible for these crimes. Could it be The Beyond; savages of the mountains and the world unknown, untouched by civilisation? Could it be even creatures we already know? Ursorocs or sleepers, perhaps? Or could it be something more sinister, or obscure. A new species of creature capable of making people vanish entirely? Perhaps the ley is responsible; no one fully understands the leys full capabilities, perhaps it consumed the unfortunate climbers. Alas, they do not know. With all good fortune, my son, you will never need to either. There is a lot more to Rime than in the books we read, or the boasts we hear. There are untouched secrets and mysterious creatures just waiting to be discovered by someone. The Palecallers lore texts extend beyond that of most of civilisation. We know so much that was lost to the ages. We know what happened to victims of crimes and nature, as we can speak to the primary witness; the victims themselves. Think of the possibilities, for both them and us. Deadly truths that were to be silenced forever by malicious thugs can be recovered from beyond the grave. The world can benefit from your internal knowledge even after your heart stops beating. Its an opportunity that we dont like to miss. So make sure you ask, my son. There is only so much information the living can provide. Sometimes the dead have just as much to say. Information is valuable. Ive told you before that The Palecallers are not a poor organisation. We have the funds necessary to support and sustain the worlds greatest fighting force and dozens of our allies. We can sell the information the dead give us, and sometimes the spirits will be so grateful for our assistance that they will reward us with a sort of... inheritance. The spirit finds rest, and we are able to take possession of some their worldly goods they no longer have need for. We dont work for reward however, Wyatt. The Callers must always prioritise the safety of The Pale, and that means freeing as many lost souls as we can, with or without a prize. The Callers have freed souls in this region, Wyatt, and they have given us their account. Im afraid the reports have always been sketchy, at best. They describe something not human, something that makes the ice its home. Something they feared even as they languished in a place it could no longer reach them... Something weve come to call... The Ivorn.

Present Day The five initiates battled with the howling wind that was buffering them from the north. They had been marching for several hours along a curious, assumedly man-made pathway that twisted and winded through the weathered rocks and mountainous rises. The snow was already up to their knees, and each step was a minor wrestle for whoever led the group. They took shifts to lead, and carve a path for the others through the thick powdery hindrance. The gale was casting the flakes into the air where it twirled and danced around the party. Other than the occasional sounds of struggle, and the winds whistling, The Ivory Reach was totally silent. It was voided of all signs of life. This place was a graveyard. The mountainous spines of the region rose up all around them, closing them in a sort of cage. It was either forward, or back. There were no other viable routes. Icicles hanging from jagged protrusions, and the sheer spikes that tipped the surrounding mountains gave the region a sharp, bladed and inhospitable atmosphere. The winds that filtered through the spines of The Reach carved and eroded the standing stone into elaborate and interesting shapes. The light from the shrouded sun hitting the pointed structures formed shadows on the floor; like the fangs and claws of a giant beast. The initiates glanced around nervously every few steps. Well, nearly all of them did. Vagrant seemed at peace, trapped between the gnarled and looming rocks. He seemed at peace with most things, except himself, evidently. He was currently leading the group, his black attire standing out more than anything in the ghostly-white snow. The feathers on his dark cloak fluttered in the wind, flaked with white dots from the light flurry around them. He was shovelling through the snow with nothing but a hiking stick with extraordinary strength and endurance. His leading shift had already lasted twice as long as the others and some of the spirits were concerned for his health. Wyatt will take over. Zachery ordered after a while after awkwardly appearing a few feet in front of a digging Vagrant. Im fine. He replied. He continued moving forward, passing straight through Zachery Uh... Zachery blinked, turning around No youre not. Youre working yourself too hard needlessly. Let Wyatt take over. Wyatt poked his head from the small group, waving Hey! He said hes fine! Let him carry on! Zachery ignored his sons lazy request, walking across the fragile crust of snow without leaving prints. Didnt you hear me, initiate? I wasnt asking, I was telling. Move back. Vagrant glared viciously at Zachery, his single good eye fixed on the spirits .......Fine.... he eventually growled, dropping the stick and turning away. Wyatt, youre up. Zachery called, with a beckon. Wyatt shuffled past Vagrant cautiously. He looked like a rage was brewing within him. He was far more frightening than Anya, with her childish tantrums. His anger, his sadness, it felt justified in some scary way. Vagrant didnt even glance at him as they crossed paths. Rook scooped up the stick and started pushing through the snow. It wasnt as hard as he thought itd be. The snow was light and dusty rather than thick and slushy. Zachery walked beside him, standing on the untouched sheet which put him about a foot above Wyatt as he dug. Having fun being the boss man? Wyatt asked. His sleeper hide coat was quickly covered in white specs. Its rare a spirit has any sort of dominion over a Palecaller. Youll find you very much hold the reins for most of our kind. Most of them cannot touch you, but you hold the key to their salvation.

Most of them? Wyatt asked Are there spirits that can touch us? Zachery tilted his head a few times as he pondered the answer Nh... Yes and no... By the time they are able to touch you, I wouldnt exactly call them spirits anymore. They degrade, you see? The longer you leave a spirit dwindling in The Pale, the more dangerous it becomes. Eventually they can extend their influence into the physical realm, and endanger the living. Farl... Wyatt cursed, scooping a pile of snow aside So thats why we exist? To stop that happening? Essentially. The Callers will teach you more about omens in some of your later studies. They are somewhat dangerous. Wyatt looked at his father as he shoved the snow aside Have you ever met one? An omen? No. Zachery shook his head They are quite rare, fortunately. I hear they are just... fury and terror all bundled into one horrific form. I would be reluctant to even call them sapient... They dont think. They arent aware. They exist only to end the world that ended them. If they dont think... how do ya help them with their unfinished business? Wyatt asked. Zachery smiled at his son. A twinkle of pride went through his eyes Youre starting to understand how this process works, Wyatt. Youre right. They have no unfinished business once theyve degraded to this point... he pointed to the key on Wyatts belt Thats what The Door is for. Wyatt clicked his free fingers. It was a little difficult to do as they were so cold Youve got some explainin to do regarding that whole ordeal. Where the farl were you when we needed you? You didnt need me. If you were walking to an early grave then I would have interjected. Didnt need you? If wed had some ley casts then wed have downed that farling giant before he killed two innocent people. Zachery sighed, running a hand through his dark hair Wyatt, Im not a leyborn. Never have been. Im afraid I would have been no use, so as soon as I realised your plan was in motion, I devoted my time to finding out what happened to you. You saved two lives, son. Isnt that enough? Wyatt stopped digging, looking at his father with disappointment. How is it enough? Those poor folk believed I could getem out of there and Jorgnr killed them. If Id gone out there alone then...- Hed have killed you cut in Zachery You could have snuck out without them, or you could have freed them all at once by defeating the chieftain. Two out of four is better than none, isnt it? You cant jus- Isnt it, Wyatt? Wyatt fell silent. Zachery gave him a sincere and sympathetic look Permit me to share with you some advice; advice that has passed down through the metaphorical halls of heroes since before recorded history... He crouched down to Wyatts level, still elevated standing on his pillar of snow You cant save everyone. A month ago, you werent interested in saving a soul. Im not complaining, but what changed? Wyatt paused, before sighing and shrugging. He began to dig once again I guess its one of those all or nothing things. Ive never been interested in saving folk, but... when I commit to it... after I saw Tish and the others... Sealed up for three years for no reason... Farl... Somethin cracked. Ive stole and Ive lied and cheated and conned... but Ive never killed... Leavin them like that... that was murder. He didnt look at Zachery as he dug ...And so was watchin them die to help me. He chuckled softly, in a vain attempt to force some of his sadness aside. I dont expect to save everyone... I dont ever think Ill become some... knight in shining

armour, ready to help those in need or what not... I aint expecting to change for the better...Im just afraid of changin for the worse. Zachery began to walk alongside Rook once again What do you mean? he asked. It reminds me of something Vince said, is all. Vince taught me most stuff, but Vince has killed before... Mostly bandits or some such. He always told me to stay my blades when possible, because killin flicks a switch in your mind. ....Was it hard? To watch Jorgnr die? Wyatt glanced over his shoulder at Zachery ....No... It was... easy. He frowned Same with those fenrye. It was so easy... And thats what scares me. Thats the switch flickin. Its a simple as a squeeze of a trigger or a turn of a key. I asked Vince if it gets any easier, and he said it does... quicker than anyone could imagine. He didnt want that for me, and I dont want it either. Zachery stayed quiet. The flakes of snow in the air passed through his incorporeal form Youre not avoidin speakin because theres nothin you can say to cheer me up... You know that in this work youre puttin me to, thoughts like mine aint appreciated. Yall want me to feel at ease when I watch the bodies fall, the smokin gun in my hand. ...Wyatt, I... Youve already told me once. The dreams. You said you wanted me to come to terms with killin. You think Ill gun down some poor soul cause a dead man told me it must be so? I aint a murderer. I dont hang people from archways, and I dont massacre families. Thats why folk are afraid of Palecallers, aint it? Because they are monsters... From an external perspective... You might be right. No one else can see what it is we prevent, Wyatt. If you had witnessed the full extent of an omens power, then youd understand necessity of our sacrifices. And those folk hanging from the arch?! Were those necessary sacrifices?! Wyatt had stopped once again, and was now shouting at Zachery. He was finally unleashing his concerns that had been rising for the past few days and nights. The Callers didnt kill them. They arent savages. They arent evil. Then what did?! Orphuss old withered voice sounded over the wind as he approached The Ivorn... Anya snorted. She marched up the path Why have we stopped? Im freezing here. Gimme that. She snatched the shovelling stick from Wyatt and began to dig once again. The ivorn arent real. Just a fairy tale to scare the kids away from The Reach. Theyre real.... Muttered Vagrant, his voice muffled by a scarf around his mouth ...Theyre all around us. Shut your trap, you creep. Anya yelled at him, her voice battling with a particularly strong gust of wind What use is there in scaring them? Vagrant didnt reply. Anya kept digging while Wyatt confronted Zachery further If were the future of this group like you told me, then things are gonna change. Ghosts have no more say into who lives or dies than the rest of us. Zachery shook his head, slowly Youll understand. They all understand, eventually. Without us, the world would have died a dozen times over. If you still believe we need a change of technique once youve experienced our age-old methods, then by all means, voice your concerns to our leader. I will. Growled Wyatt. He resumed the march, following Anya. She seemed content in doing his work for him, so he made no objections. Did your research actually yield anything? Did you find out whats wrong with me? Wyatt asked after a few minutes of simmering down. Zachery seemed reluctant to answer, but eventually said

....No... Im sorry. Best keep it to yourself. It shouldnt happen again. Wyatt rolled his eyes. Whatever. What do you know about Lincoln? I watched him, briefly. The vermus was well versed in Palecaller lore and technique. The name is unfamiliar to me, Im afraid, as was his voice and face. My guess, hes a relative of one of the present Palecaller servants. He was scared of me. He said Palecallers... mass murdered innocent people. He lied. Weve done some bad things, son, but never that. Consider what he meant by innocent. The only times in the past I can think of in which Palecallers have assaulted large groups or bases is to prevent the production of spirits... and eventually omens. For example, murderous cults or bandit clans. Lincoln was a bandit. Its possible he witnessed one of our purges. He said there were children... Zachery frowned. Strange... I cannot think of such a purge in recent years that involved innocent children. Lincoln must have been mistaken... Unless... He trailed off, thinking. Wyatt widened his eyes a little, squinting one of them as a snowflake flew into it ...Unless what?... Zachery stared straight ahead. The light fall of snow temporarily swirled around him ...Nothing. He must have been mistaken. Dont worry. He ignored the grumpy expression Wyatt pulled, instead calmly looking around, admiring the mountains. ...Well what about this door? What was that? Ahh yes... Kingsly had appeared, seemingly eager to share his knowledge Id heard youd opened the door without training. Such a thing has not happened for four hundred years. You show great promise, you Master Rook. I dont much care... Wyatt answered. Zachery smirked and shook his head, walking ahead while Kingsly continued. Of course. Modesty is most important within our order... I wish the others shared your humility... he gave a noticeable glance to Anya as he said that. Thankfully she had her back to them and didnt pick up on it. What is it? Whats it for? Rook persisted. Its a weapon and a tool created by the first Palecallers in union with Nox, The Divine of Death. They named it The Devils Door. Its a gateway through The Pale itself and straight into the afterlife. It forces lingering spirits to pass on... and it also stops spirits from every manifesting when used on the living. Wyatt frowned ...if thats true, why dont the Callers just funnel every spirit through the door and not worry about unfinished business?... A spirit remains a spirit while it still has hope. The moment that hope is diminished, it loses its unfinished business and becomes an omen. If we turned on the spirits, and culled them by forcing them through the devils door, hope would be extinguished amongst the spiritual populi. The amount of omens present would increase rapidly, until we were overwhelmed, and Rimes only defence against The Pales dark side would be abolished. He gestured to himself, then Orphus To put us through the door is the equivalent of murder. What gives The Callers right to deny spirits their final wishes... Wishes that are, more often than not, desperate or important enough to justify their very soul defying the natural cycle. If the callers tried to throw me through the door, I would lose hope in them. I would become an omen. Theyd probably manage to get me through it, but I could kill one of them in the process. Theres a lot more of us than there are of those that harbour the leys of both Glace, and Nox. They cannot afford to take risks, and banish spirits prematurely. He rubbed

his chin I suppose its all very complicated, but to summarise, throwing a spirit with unfinished business into the door can create omens... and... Master Rook, I assure you, an omen is often are far greater problem than the tasks spirits will provide you with. He shrugged It is simply not worth the risk. Not only do you endanger your own life, but the lives of others if you fail to contain the omen. Do you understand? Wyatt tried to hide his puzzlement I...think so. Youre saying every spirit has the potential to become... An omen, yes. Omens have killed dozens of callers over the years... and countless others too. They will teach you more of them later. Theres really no good reason to fill up on second rate knowledge provided by those whove never encountered the blasted things... Wyatt gave an enlightened nod. As Kingsly prepared to fall back to the groups rear once again, Wyatt stopped him. Hey. The bald spirit turned Hm? I gotta ask. I know Zacherys unfinished business. Whats yours? Kingsly smiled, interlocking his fingers Ah now thats a question Im not asked very often. You might have established from my apparel that I am one of the Faithful. I believe that Rime will never be great until our Divines return to us. The day they are once again among us, where they should be... shall be the day I rest easy. He gestured to Orphus who was nearby, not paying much attention I believe dear old Orphus has a similar wish. Orphus turned at the sound of his name, his gormless expression meeting Kingslys smug grin ...Whu? he exclaimed. Oh nothing, dear friend, nothing. He leant down to Wyatt Truth is, Master Rook, Orphus died when his mind wasnt all there. We tell him what his unfinished business is, as he cant remember... he looked at the old man, who had once again lost interest Just think... Hes one epiphany away from becoming... exceedingly dangerous. Wyatt nodded, narrowing his eyes and closing his fist within his palm We need to find this epiphany, and stop it... Kingsly laughed, raising an eyebrow to Zachery who slowly covered his face behind his hand. ...So how long have you been waitin, Kingsly? Wyatt asked, once the laughter had subsided. A while. Somewhere between four and five hundred years. Wyatt whistled lowly Mhm. Yes. Indeed. It is a taxing wait, but I am eternally patient, Master Rook. I will wait another thousand years if I must, serving The Callers and watching the skies. Mark my words, it will happen. What makes you so sure? Wyatt asked. ...Because it has to... Master Rook. He nodded at Wyatt, slowly wandering off It has to... The winds grew heavier as the group ascended further. Over the next two hours, the snow became thicker still, and the flurry was teetering on the edge of becoming a full-blown blizzard. Darius was leading now, digging quite fiercely to keep himself warm. He was easily suffering the most, his family originally hailing from one of Rimes warmer climates. His dark skin and thick hides were covered in white flakes of steadily increasing size. The howling in the air had increased in volume, and now had to be shouted over to be audible at all. Midday had long since passed, and the faint glow of the sun behind the clouds was now dropping to the west. Lizzy was pushing herself against the gale, practically leaning her entire bodyweight forward to stay in control. A particularly strong gust blew through the party, and Elizabeth was thrown from her feet. She thudded to the damp ground, cursing and wiping some snow from her muzzle. A gloved hand reached down to her. She looked up to see Wyatt grinning

Need assistance, princess? he said, with a slight bow. Lizzy took one of Rooks fingers, and he pulled her upright. Anya glared from a slight distance, calling back to the pair of them You should leave her. Shell only hold us back... Rook ignored her, instead lifting Lizzy into his arms. She weighed very little, not even a fraction of the weight he was already hauling up the mountains. I gotcha. He said. Lizzy looked embarrassed, and a little insecure. It was a convincing act. I can walk. This winds only gonna get rougher. Next time you could be blown away. No point takin that risk. Wyatt turned and continued up the dug path. He winked to Anya as he passed her, if anything just to irritate her further. It seemed to work. You seem to like the vermus. Thats refreshing. Lizzy stated, watching the peaks above from her slightly elevated position I was sort of... mentored by one. He was my best friend. He always told me about prejudice and persecution too... Must be rough. Words can only sting so long as you expect them not to. When you come to accept what you are... The insults and the second class citizen treatment just becomes part of life... You grow used to it. She looked up at Rook Your friend; what was his court name? Wyatt smiled, weakly He uh... He didnt have one. He was trying to get one but... He lived outside of the vermus community. He tilted his head at Lizzy You got one? A court name? I have indeed. She said, proudly Its Forktongue. Wyatt laughed, turning a few heads Forktongue?! That does not bode well. Youre tellin me youre such a good liar that they named you after it? Lizzy looked at her claws, idly, innocently. I suppose I am. Some of the sharpest analysts in Valleys End couldnt tell if I was being truthful or dishonest. They gave me looks similar to the one youre giving me now. Do you want to play this game, Wyatt Rook? You consider yourself an excellent judge of character, yes? A skill you undoubtedly put to use when impressing the ladies, or assessing a potential combat situation. Wyatt blinked ...How did you-... Its all in the eyes. The way they search. She smiled Youre not the only one who knows their marks. It was your vermus friend who taught you this art, yes? We know people. It comes to us naturally. We know what to say, and we know what signals to read. She squinted a little and tilted her head from side to side Weeeeell... a lot of us do. There are some exceptional examples. I suppose itd be arrogant to call myself one of them... Wyatt smirked Would you prefer I do it for you, Princess? she nodded, poshly turning up her nose Yes! And be quick about it! Wyatt opened his mouth to give the answer, but the words never came. His attention had been grabbed by something far above him, something amongst the peaks and the crests of the surrounding mountains. A silhouette moved, slowly, before disappearing again into the veil. ....What the farl?... he said, softly. Hm? Lizzy followed Rooks line of sight, craning her furry head upwards ...What? ...I swear I... saw something... Rook replied, squinting through the pale shroud. Something moving... Was probably just some snow falling. Forget about it and tell me how great I am. Rook shook his head Ill tell Zachery. He warned me about the stuff that lives here in one of those dreams.

Handy. Kingsly just told us the mountains were formed. How were they formed? Boringly. Wyatt laughed, jogging up the pass and moving by Vagrant, who also had his eyes set above the group They are coming... he said softly, calmly. Wyatt tried to ignore this, instead moving towards Darius, who was talking to Zachery The cold is part of you now, Darius. Glaces power runs in your veins. S...S...S...sure...M...Master. Darius was shivering quite violently. Just a little further. Were nearly at the cave and then we can get a fire going. Youre doing well. Ah! Wyatt. I see youre carrying another initiate and disrupting her eventual sense of accomplishment. Im perfectly accomplished up here, thanks. Lizzy retorted, quite sharply. Theres something above us. Wyatt began. I saw it moving. Zachery nodded slowly, peering upwards Yes. Vagrant already informed me. Id hoped hed imagined it but I cant disregard two of you. We press on for a little longer. The cave I mentioned is just up ahead. He beckoned Vagrant forward Vagrant. Help Darius dig for a while. We need to pick up the pace. He pointed to Anya You. Cover the groups rear. Keep your eyes on the mountains and look out for suspicious deposits of ice. Anya blinked ...What? Just do it. Wyatt, Lizzy, watch the flanks. Wait, wait. Lizzy began What are we looking out for? Animals? People? This isnt the time to explain. Focus your attention on our flanks. Youll know what youre looking for if you see it... How?... Wyatt queried. Zachery turned on him Because they arent animals or people. Go. He shooed Wyatt away. The group accelerated slightly with two people now attacking the accumulated snow. The others were anxiously watching their surroundings. The weather was not making it easy. The snow restricted their visions range, allowing clarity for only a few metres. Lizzy and Rook watched the right and left flanks, with Lizzy perched on Rooks shoulder like a chair. Anya watched the rear, periodically cursing and muttering. While watching the space behind the group, she was facing towards the wind and made constant complaints about her face being cold Waste of time... Theres nothing that lives here... Got me on farling guard duty for make-believe monsters... she turned to Wyatt Hope youre happy, daddys boy. Youve got everyone riled up over nothing. Wyatt lost his focus on his watch, turning to Anya. He shouted over the wind What the farl is your problem? What pathetic insecurity are ya compensatin for?! Justify to us now why youre bein so unreasonable!? You and the rat are buddies already!? That doesnt surprise me. Doesnt take a genius to work out what kind of man you are! she yelled back. Wyatt temporarily clawed at his own face, unable to fully comprehend the stupidity of what he was hearing WHAT THE FARL IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN!? Theyre evil! If youre friends withem, then youre evil too! Wyatt was about to reply, but ended up sniggering as Lizzy called back to Anya. Im not that evil!

You think Im funny?! Im the only one here with any sense! Why in the frozen hells would The Palecallers recruit vermus?! Therell be fenrye next! Suppose youre buddies with them too, huh!? WHAT THE F- Wyatt began, in disbelief, but trailed into silence as he spotted movement behind the woman Anya! he pointed. Anya twirled around, but there was nothing there. The silhouette had vanished like it was one with the weather itself. ...Was that meant to be a joke!? Thats not funny! There was somethin there! Wyatt went back to watching his flank, spotting another shadow dashing through the flurry. He drew his gun and followed it with the barrel, but it vanished before he could get a clear shot. Got something. Lizzy said. Wyatt turned to see a third outline. It stood still for a moment, seemingly watching before dashing off again. Its form had been humanoid, but jagged and course, as if wearing some spiked armour. She noticeably pressed against Wyatt as it vanished and shivered. I dont like this... COME OUT, COWARDS! Anya yelled to the peaks around her. Evidently shed spotted something as well. Her voice was strong, but her eyes were darting from left to right in a way that conveyed her nervousness. She steadily backed away, joining Rook We should regroup... First sensible thing youve said all day... The three move them moved back to the others, Anya and Rook with their weapons drawn. They heard Zacherys voice as they drew closer The caves here, on the right. Go that way. Darius and Vagrant changed course, moving off from the main path. Vagrant appeared to be repeating they are coming over and over. Darius looked fairly unsettled, but then he also looked too cold to really care. Several more dark shapes moved through the blizzard. Zachery watched them cautiously. Lizzy uttered fearfully ...Are they going to kill us?... Course not. Wyatt answered. ...I was asking Zachery... she looked at Wyatts father ...Are they? They know youre Palecallers... They wont take the risk without greater numbers... ...Then... Why are they still here? They are waiting for greater numbers... Well be fine once were inside and we get a fire going... Look. He pointed to a large cave mouth with icicles hanging from the roof like a fanged maw as it came into view through the falling snow. Were nearly there. Just a little further. Quickly now. Anya, help them. Thankfully, Anya didnt object. She rushed to the front of the group and the three of them ploughed through the snow at great speed. Wyatt kept his gun raised as more forms moved around him; about six of them now. Hold your fire, son... Zachery warned ...Dont give them a reason... The others reached the cave and dashed inside. Wyatt spat, turned and ran after them, Lizzy wobbling on his shoulder. The howling of the wind now out of their ears, it was much easier to communicate. The snow flew passed the caves entrance like a horizontal waterfall. It was warmer without having to fight the gales, but not much. Prismatic spikes and glinting crystals covered the caves ceiling and walls. Stalactites stretched down from the roof, dripping slowly, each drop forming its own tiny echo. Snow lay across the stone floor, footprints already present. Theres someone else here... Lizzy said, hopping down from her perch and examining the prints These prints are decades old, Miss Forktongue. Kingsly said Made by the last Palecaller initiates who climbed The Reach for the first time.

No time for chitchat Zachery interrupted Wyatt, Anya, build a fire. Youll find matches in the tinderbox. I can help! Lizzy enthusiastically called. He voice echoed several times before fading. Zachery gave her a nod Then do so. Quickly. Wyatt and Anya unpacked the firewood and tinderbox, quickly unloading a small mound in the caves centre. Lizzy cleared some snow aside with her tail, catching some kindling tossed to her by Wyatt and building several small pyramids. Princesses build a lot of fires? Wyatt jokingly asked, dashing over and adjusting Lizzys tiny wooden structure Youre doing it wrong. Lizzy raised an eyebrow No Im not. Trust me, you are. Here. He removed some of the sticks Fire needs to breathe. Loose formation. He put some twigs in the cones centre. Anya came over, unsurprisingly with a scowl on her face Shes trying to get us killed! Out of the way! She shoved Lizzy aside with her foot. Lizzy toppled over with a soft thud. Wyatt would have objected, but now wasnt the time. A distant marching was slowly starting to reach the caves mouth, the marching of dozens of legs. They are coming... Vagrant whispered, his voice amplified by the caves size. Shut up! Anya shouted back at him, before taking some matches and pulling her gloves off with her teeth. Before she could react, a rock hit her face, hurled by Lizzy. A wound opened on her forehead, and she yelled, drawing her axe Youll pay for that, you disgusting little vermin! In her rage, Anya nearly disassembled the tepee as she rushed past it to tackle Lizzy down. The others quickly ran over, as the marching grew louder... Stop it! Stop it at once! This isnt the time! Anya, Lizzy, enough! They are coming... Finally, one voice above all others caught their attention SHUT! THE FARL! UPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!! Lizzy and Anya froze in mid wrestle, slowly looking up at Kingsly who appeared to have just exploded with fury. You pair of ignorant little brats, squabbling and fighting over menials and trivials. Ive had enough of your pointless and mindless behaviour. The pair of you will not speak to one another, you will not look at each other, or I swear the first thing The Palecallers will do is hear of your compromising behaviour and have you executed for the sake of global security! Your actions will lead only to ruin! And not just your own ruin; the ruin of your friends, your colleagues! The only people who can stop this world from becoming a dead rock. She started i-... Lizzy tried to say at the first opportunity she had I dont give a CRAP! Kingsly roared back. It was almost spooky the way his voice had no echo. The ivorn are coming. Build the farling fire before I invite them in for tea and biscuits! his bald head had turned red with rage. He stomped away to the caves entrance. Wyatt continued working on the fire, building it up with survival expertise. He casually caught a coin purse tossed to him by Darius as he scooped up the box of matches. The marching was very close now. Shadows appeared through the veil, at least twenty of them. ...Take your time Wyatt... Zachery whispered. Wyatt opened the matches. His heart sunk. There was only two in there. ...Not that much time... Wyatt lit up the first match, striking it against the box. He lowered it to the kindling, before a slight breeze extinguished it. The mechanical thumping of feet on snow echoed through the cavern. Darius and Vagrant casually moved either side of Wyatt, acting as windshields.

Everyone hold your breath. They all inhaled, including Orphus. Zachery and Kingsly threw him a confused look, but he ignored it. Wyatt lit the final match. The marching felt like it was almost upon him. His hand trembled, but he managed to lower the flame to the mounds centre. The fire blazed to life. A few dozen rattling shrieks sounded out behind him, and he whirled around to see the spiky forms of the creatures retreating into the snow once again. The group sighed with relief. They were safe. They spent a few minutes around the fire as it rose to its full height. Darius looked like he was ready to throw himself upon it to replenish his warmth. Lizzy and Anya had been sat away from one another, like children. Anya now had a bandage on her head, and was sharpening her axe with a piece of flint. Vagrant was strangely quiet once again, staring into the flames with a vacant, almost hypnotised expression. Wyatt was sat with the three spirits while they discussed recent events Its rare they form so quickly. Their confidence seems to grow with every passing year... As do their numbers, dear friend. Ill file the report with a Caller once we reach Palthgar. They nodded at Zacherys decision. Wyatt clicked his fingers, attracting the trios attention Hey. I feel left in the dark here. What were those things? Ivorn? Orphus nodded, but seemed conflicted with his answer Well... Yes and no. Ivorn is just a name, a myth for something far more sinister. They were just people... Anya said, her face illuminated in the darkness by the sparks from her blade People in armour. If only that were true, Miss Hrongmar... Kingsly answered. He was once again back to his calm and collected self Through the blanket of snow, they might seem human, it is true. If it had been a clear day, however, I suspect you would have drawn a different conclusion. ...Whatever... Anya returned to her task. Wyatt wasnt done yet, however ...So what are the ivorn? The three spirits pondered, making a few ums and uhhs. Its a difficult question with many answers. Said Orphus, finally I suppose one of those answers is that they are... ley. Wyatt blinked What? Let me try to explain Zachery stepped in Power, at its rawest, at its most refined, is something that is difficult to contain. The ley is a kind of power. Its a power that had the potential to net Rime in space and prevent Glacenox from ever returning. That net; that weave of interlocking fibres that covers this planet are the leylines. This particular kind of power; the ley, requires a living host to manifest in a stable way, but even then it must be... vented on occasion. The ivorn are the result of this vent. They are the emanation of ill-containment. In a few hundred years time, who knows, maybe well have the technology to stop this from happening... but right now... we live with it. Wyatt waved his hands Im... totally lost. Youre saying someone made them? Not deliberately. I suppose, to put it simply, its the equivalent of you... filling a bucket of water. Fill it too much, and it overflows. The ivorn are, in this case, the overflow, the puddle on the floor. They are beings of wild ley that manifested through a living host without consent or control. They are... ice monsters. He shrugged They have no organs, no bones, just...ice. They fear fire, thankfully, or wed have no way of defeating them. Who the farl is powerful enough to create an army of ice monsters? Zachery glanced to Kingsly and Orphus. They both shook their heads. Zachery seemed to agree with them Its not our place to tell you. Youll find out, one day.

Are they alive?... Wyatt asked. Again, the spirits pondered Hrmm.. Well... A matter of perspective. Kingsly began Am I alive? My body is not, but I am aware. I am sapient. I am capable of perceiving, and communication. They arent on the same level of intelligence as we are. They are the result of a loss of control, and so they need none. They kill and take whoever they can... but they are capable of threat assessment. They wont attack unless they know they can win. They operate on near flawless logic, as does their creator. He rubbed his chin The only illogical thing they do, is kill. Ive never understood their reason for it. No one has. Zachery muttered. He stood up and waved to the initiates Everyone. You should get some rest. The ivorn wont enter the cave. Dont worry. Were going to inform the Callers of your arrival tomorrow. Sleep well. He vanished, closely followed by Orphus and Kingsly. The night seemed to descend faster than usual. Before long, the initiates had rolled out their bed mats and we asleep beside the fire. The darkness was overwhelming, shying away from the crackling warmth of the flames. The light created a spherical glow, illuminating what it could before fading into nothing. The winds outside began to weaken as the worst of them passed by. Wyatt opened his eyes, awoken by a sound. He rolled onto his side to glance at Anya, who was shuffling and moaning in her sleep. She had her eyes closed, but her brow was furrowed. She was clearly upset. She repeated the word no several times, quietly. Everyone else appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Everyone that is, except Vagrant. Vagrant hadnt moved an inch from his seat beside the fire. Still he stared within, the light of the flames writhing within his pupils. Wyatt climbed from his bed and approached Vagrant, with a shred of caution. Vagrant made no objections as Rook sat beside him, and gazed in as well. The pair of them remained in silence for what felt like an hour, until... I once met a wicker witch... Vagrant spoke, his voice low and quiet so as not to wake the others. His sudden speech made Wyatt jolt with surprise In the forests of Glade... They were... crude... Primitive... but they were free. They were celebrating when I walked into their village... Celebrating life itself... while they could. The fire cracked, and Vagrants eye twitched ever so slightly They built a great fire, and danced before it. So much life... so much energy. He leant forward a little The witch approached me... She told me that if I stared into the flames long enough... I would see the future. I was overwhelmed with joy at the very prospect... a chance to remedy my wrongs before I even made them... So I stared. I stared for hours... days. Wyatt watched him, silently ...It wasnt until the fire was finally burning out... and the embers were glowing on the ground that I realised... what the wicker witch had meant... he looked at Wyatt, a cold, empty look through his one good eye She meant the world would burn... and we would burn with it. You welcome that fate?... Wyatt asked, tentatively. Anya groaned and shuddered violently from a distance. Wyatt glanced to her, while Vagrant turned away again No. Not for you. Not for her. Not for those who have the right to fight for their life... He hung his head ...I do not... He ran a hand up his own cheek and to his wounded eye. Wyatt watched him ....Howd that happen? Vagrant languidly pulled his hand away ...Gunshot... Someone shot you?... Vagrant nodded, standing up and approaching his bedroll Yes. He lay down. The fireside was somewhat lonely without him. Someone did...

Chapter Thirteen The Smell of Fear

Fifty Nine Days Ago What is life? A lot of our philosophers define baseline intelligence as something that seeks to prevent its own destruction; something with survival instinct... But life is merely something that consumes, excretes and reproduces, to them at least. The question you have to ask is; how can something be intelligent without being alive? What is death? Death in the eyes of men is the state in which the signs of life stop. When you are dead, you stop respiring, and you are no longer aware. Your body can burn without you feeling pain, and in general, the requirements of life previously mentioned are no longer required. If thats true, can a ghost ever be defined as alive? We think, were aware, we communicate, we move, we interact. We do everything except what an encyclopaedia deems is necessary for survival. I like to think of myself alive, even if my body is not. As a Palecaller, you will also get a chance to redefine, if only to yourself, what life and death actually mean. If youre like some of the callers, you simply wont care what they mean. Life and death, its all perspective, once you have the eyes to see truths others do not. The ivorn dont communicate with us, or to each other. They operate with a single mind. They dont eat, they dont sleep, they dont respire or excrete. They hunt, however. They interact, in a sense. They are capable of self control, and they elude their own fatalities when possible. Like spirits, using the rules of society, we can also deem them sentient, but not alive. If something is classified as living, does that mean it has more rights than something that is coldly classified as deceased. Does a ghost have fewer rights than a physical human being? If so, why? Were their privileges removed for some reason when a knife was driven through their heart, or a terrible sickness took them to their grave? I was killed by a fenrye, does that mean I am somehow inferior to those that fled, to those that coward? Sometimes, Wyatt, the men and women who died were worth more to this world than a hundred others. Sometimes they are not. Sometimes they are worth even less than a man or woman should be, and you may find the prospect of helping them sickeningly frustrating, but tolerance is key here, if not just greatly appreciated. You may have to toy with the concept of more than one death occurring to a single individual. If we start to perceive ghosts as a form of life, then surely they are also capable of demise? When they pass on, is that not the same as dying? We assume they move on like everyone else, and end up in the same place; the same... unreality. Killing a man twice in quick succession is something Palecallers try to avoid, and it can be achieved by using The Door on a living being to prevent their spirit from manifesting. Remember Wyatt that The Callers are more than simply connected to death. In a way, they are kin to it. Theyve all experienced it, and they all deal with it on a daily basis. To them, death is another way of life. It is a tool, and a weapon, but also a means of peace, and balance. So what is life? What is death? Its all perspective, my son. Its all just the way you look at it.

Present Day The sound of morning preparation stirred Wyatt from his dream. The other initiates were already gearing up, placing weapons in sheathes and pulling their long coats over their standard attire. Wyatt groaned, his eyelids still fairly heavy. Get up, or well leave you here. Lizzy said, sliding a few throwing knives into her bandolier. Wyatt made a few incomprehensible noises, rising from the edge of slumber and rubbing his eyes. His arm flopped to his side where it grabbed his belongings, and he started to get changed into his travel gear. The fire was nothing but a few glowing cinders now, the wood the group had brought with them all but burnt. The three spirits were already waiting at the door, no doubt having intentionally woken the others with their internal messages. The winds had died down overnight, and the blizzard risen by it had vanished, leaving clear and hospitable weather to travel in. Itd be much harder for any hazards to sneak up on them now. Wyatt pulled his sleeper coat over his shoulders before bending down and rolling up the bed mat hed slept upon. Binding it at the edges, he hoisted it up and strapped it to his backpack, as hed done before. Finally, he scooped up his belt and strapped it around his waist, the ivoryon weapons in attached chiming very briefly with the motion. Darius was nearby, a large smile on his face as he likely pondered what adventure was ahead. He barely flinched as Anya shoved past him, chewing on a piece of dried venison Out of the way, preciph... she grunted, approaching the caves mouth. Unfazed, Darius followed, swinging his bag onto his back. Vagrant walked by as well. He gave Wyatt a slight nod while doing so, which somehow felt heart warming. Vagrant had been, until last night, very closed and uncommunicative in every way. As Wyatt prepared to follow him, a soft scratching noise reached his ears, causing him to turn. Lizzy was against one of the cave walls, a dagger in her hand. She was scraping the blade against the cold stone, perhaps in attempts to sharpen it. As she stood back however and smirked, it became clear she had been writing a message. It was slightly stylised with a flick on the ends of some letters and a general slant to the text

WORDS ARE POISON

She seemed to admire her handy work before twirling around, catching sight of Wyatt. She winked, slyly and padded off through the light snow at her feet, her tail dragging behind her. Wyatt frowned at the inscribed statement. It somehow felt familiar. He shrugged it off, basing it down to mere assumptions and followed Lizzy. He was the last to leave the cave and once again walk out into the cold of The Ivory Reach. The spirits welcome the group Well rested, I trust? Kingsly began This day shall, with luck, be pleasant enough for us to reach Palthgar before sundown. Before we begin, are there any harrowing issues or important questions to get off our chests? he looked to each of them in turn, eyeing Vagrant in particular. Vagrant just stared, silently No? Nothing at all? Evidently not. Zachery cut in, throwing a patronising glance to Kingsly and defusing his invasive prying. Well continue. Keep your eyes open for threats and consider no problem too small to bother the rest of us with. In the Reach, a niggling concern can become a life or death situation. If

you see any movement, any strange occurrence you dont fully understand, report it directly to me. Understood? The initiates nodded Good. Anya, why dont you lead first? Anya muttered, pulling her hiking stick from a loop on her backpack and approaching the front of the group, quite rudely walking straight through Zachery. The group set off, travelling in single file as before with a single spirit on each end and one in the middle. The sky was a brilliant and clear shade of blue, without a cloud to taint it. The air seemed fresher and crisper, although slightly thinner than usual. Without the shroud of snow in the sky, vision was totally unrestricted. The icy, glistening peaks of the mountain range around them reached for the sun, which was beaming shafts through them. A serene sort of beauty was captured in the frozen death trap when looked at in ideal conditions. Sadly it was impossible to see the rest of Rime while surrounded by these mountainous formations. The sight must have been incredible. Wyatt kept his head tilted upwards for a time, watching the air above him for signs of avian life. He expected a few high altitude birds to fly over at any moment, but they never came. It seemed this place was devoid of natural life. The group walked without saying a word to one another for a time, keeping their eyes on their surroundings and ready to react at the slightest indication of hostility. In the quiet, a low voice began to hum a tune. Zachery had started a gentle and lyric-less song, the echoless sound filling the still air. Within a few seconds, Kingsly and Orphus had joined in, humming along, even harmonising with his voice. The initiates glanced between them, curiously before slowly losing interest and continuing their ascent. The party strolled on in silence, listening to the song their spiritual handlers were cheerfully piping out. Wyatt kept his eyes fixed on the mountains around him. He assumed the ivorn couldnt hear the songs of ghosts, but his instincts told him to keep an eye out, regardless. As the song came to a climax, Darius jumped right in with a question What were you humming?! he queried, far too enthusiastically. Ah. Zachery replied It is a song that you will all be sick of when youre as old as Orphus here. The spirits of The Pale sing it in groups sometimes. Does it have lyrics? Words? It does... but out here alone... Theyd fall short of their intended ears... Besides, it would be somewhat arrogant. Why?... Its a song of praise, of thanks. It was written for ghosts, by a ghost... The only living people to have heard the full song are The Palecallers... Its a song of appreciation for their efforts. He smiled You see? Even in death, our spirits cant be dampened. There are shards of creative beauty within our realm... shards that will never see the light of living day... Darius nodded, his eyes wide with wonder and fascination. Most intriguing he answered How big are these gatherings?... Ive seen hundreds of spirits singing this song together. The Pale is more than just a... net between life and the afterlife... Its an entire community... It has a life of its own. Every community needs leaders, however... and The Palecallers serve as this. And we cant... see this community? Yet, I mean Thats correct. Palecallers gain their power by knocking at deaths door. Until youve done this within the walls of Palthgar, in the presence of your new family... You wont be able to perceive the masses. You can see me, Kingsly and Orphus because we are attuned to you specifically. The same

applies to close relatives or friends... but any strangers or individuals with no connection to you, you wont be able to see. Wyatt frowned, jogging up the path to reach Darius and Zachery Why are Kingsly and Orphus attuned to us? Who did that? Zachery smiled at his son as he approached Remember that powerful individual I mentioned last night? Wyatt nodded He did it. Its a taxing and awkward process though. Kingsly and Orphus have been doing this for centuries, but I underwent the same attuning process they did only twenty five years ago. Ghosts dont normally feel pain but uh... theres an exception in this case. Wyatt winced Beh... Forget I asked. He turned and moved back to his point in the single-file line. Anya sniggered at him softly as she dug a few feet ahead of Zachery and Darius. He ignored the laugh, going back to his watchful duty. The group climbed for another two hours with no unpleasant or unexpected surprises. Vagrant had taken over lead duty and was digging tirelessly as before. The weather remained calm and clear, the furthest peaks sitting comfortably within visual range. Wyatts neck was starting to ache, having been craned upwards for the entire duration of time past. He grumbled lowly, bringing it down and massaging it with his gloved fingers. He felt a tug at his coats tail, turning to see Lizzy staring up at him with big, pleading eyes Wyaaaaaaatt... she moaned, like an innocent child Wyatt, my legs are tired! Wyatt shrugged, raising an eyebrow Whats your point? I dont weigh much! So... uhm... Just... Uh... You want me to carry you again?... Lizzy averted her gaze, shyly looking at the snow beneath her feet before nodding. ...What kind of idiot do you take me for?... She looked up, puzzled Huh? I helped you yesterday because you needed it, and even then you nearly pushed me away. If you wanna try and exploit my charitable nature, you can forget it. I can smell an act, princess. Ive played plenty of folk, just like you have. Ya cant play me. Lizzy stared up at Wyatt, sadly, before her expression twisted into quite a wicked smirk I already have. Wyatt frowned. He eyed Lizzy up and down, spotting a difference. Her necklace had vanished. Wheres ya Drelalti pendent?... Lizzy pouted walking between Wyatts legs and continuing up the pass, while saying softly Oh... I decided to be someone else today. Wyatt turned and followed her with his gaze. He tilted his head as his mind casually erased everything he already knew about the vermus. She wasnt wrong, the girl knew how to spin a story or tell a lie. Her court name was Forktongue... probably the only shred of truth shed shared about herself so far. He watched with a soft chuckle as she played the exact same act on Darius, who scooped her up onto his shoulder in seconds. She gave Wyatt a sly wink from her new elevated position. He didnt hate her. He didnt even dislike her. He was curious, more than anything. It would be hypocritical of him to judge her negatively for something hed committed to for most of his criminal life; lying. Nevertheless, he approached Anya in search of some answers. Shed known Lizzy the longest. Anya was sharpening her axe while on the move with a grinding stone. She seemed to sharpen the thing whenever she was bored. To her credit, it did look very sharp. Hey. Wyatt said, eyeing the glinting blade, cautiously.

...Hey. Anya answered. She was a little pale, and not just from the cold. Shed been a little distracted ever since her nightmare last night. You ok? It was going well. She hadnt insulted him yet. ...Fine. she sighed What do you want, idiot?... Oh well, Wyatt thought. He tried to remain as passive and friendly as he could, as if approaching a cornered wild animal I figured you could... I dunno... Use a friend. Ya seem to be pushing everyone away... I dont need friends... Anya turned, the axe still clenched in her hand. Wyatt raised his hands submissively, backing away a little And I especially dont need you I used to get nightmares too... and daymares... and every other kind of mare... cept the woolorth kind. Anya growled, defensively Whats that meant to mean!? I dont have nightmares. Im not a child. Stay away from me! Whats the matter with ya? Im tryin to help! Wyatt said, quite aggressively. He took a moment to perform an analysis upon her in this state. The hand in which the axe was being held was quivering ever so slightly. The fingers were tightening their clench around the weapons hilt. Her glare conveyed anger, but her eyes conveyed fear. Her stance was subconsciously well spread, giving her a free stride either away or towards the threat. She was ready to run or attack. The cornered animal metaphor was almost more than a metaphor here. She was afraid. I dont need anyone. Try to get friendly with me again, and Ill cut your heart out... Wyatt backed away further, trying to show there was nothing to worry about. He was about to try and reason with her again, but Kingslys voice interrupted his Master Rook. He turned to the bald ghost Leave her be. Wyatt stopped. Anya shook her head, irritably, turning and continuing up the path. Wyatt was left standing at the packs rear with Kingsly, whom he turned to Whats going on? Why are all the initiates so damaged? Vagrants all silent and creepy, Anyas terrified of everyone, Lizzys some sort of schizophrenic and Darius is practically welcoming any danger that comes his way! And Im.... Im... Dormant, Wyatt. He looked at Kingsly, confused What? All Palecallers end up being a little... odd. The necroley within you sends most people insane, but the cryoley dilutes it, stabilises it. Even then, however, you cannot escape the leys influence entirely. Theres something within you that lies dormant, waiting for the right stimuli... just as the dreams do. It could be a phobia, a lust, a longing, a vendetta... something. Theres always something. Ive never met a normal Palecaller... and Ive met a lot. He chuckled as he looked to the skies and thought There was once a Caller named Krag... formidable in combat, and extremely empathic... but he couldnt stay in the same room as birds. He was terrified of birds... He could never explain why. He chuckled He was teased... a grown man in full armour fleeing from a room because a quish waddled in. ...So ya sayin that none of these folks... had something happen to them? They are just... weird for no reason? Wyatt shook his head I dont buy it. Vagrant and Anyas personalities were influenced by tragedy... it is true... Miss Forktongue, however... I couldnt say. Without literally being inside her mind... I cant tell which of her characters is the real one... He pointed up the pass to Darius As for Master Lao... Zachery tells me hes been pampered his whole life. Such monotony. Why not allow him a little excitement? A little eagerness? This is an adventure, after all. He could die...

He could live. Thats the difference between you two, Master Rook. Two sides of the same coin. Hes heads, youre tails. Wyatt sighed and nodded. After a moment, he started following the others again, Kingsly at his side Say... Wyatt began ...Zachery said that... this trial when we arrive kills a lot of folk... Im afraid hes right. Yeah... So... Has there ever been a time where... everyone made it? Kingsly remained silent for a few seconds, before saying No. Figures... Has there ever been a time where no one made it? Once. It was a dark day. Palthgar needs new Palecallers every few decades... No amount of cryoley will stop you from aging... And... what about me? Zachery swears blind that Ill be alright. What do you think? Kingsly eyed Rook up and down My estimates have rarely been accurate. Ive seen the strongest fall, and the weakest prevail. You are neither. I can tell you this though... If you think you will fail, you will fail. Go into the trial with a positive mind, Master Rook, or you will not survive. You have the same chance as everyone else. Noted.. he looked ahead of him. His fellow initiates had gone around a corner in the weaving mountain pass. I need to catch up. Thanks, Kingsly. Kingsly performed a sort of bow as Wyatt jogged up the dugout path. As he turned the corner, he bumped into Darius, who had stopped dead in his tracks, along with the others. Lizzy was still on his shoulder, as quiet as the grave. Lao grabbed Rook quickly, putting a finger to his own lips, signalling for silence. He then pointed ahead of the frozen party, at what appeared to be a large glacial rock. The large shard of ice was just at the side of the path, not blocking it directly. Zachery and Orphus were standing next to it, quite far away, talking to one another. Evidently theyd told the initiates to not make a sound. They appeared to be cooperating. Zachery and Orphus vanished, appearing at the head of the group, where Kingsly also materialised Nest? Zachery shook his head, while Orphus nodded. The pair of them immediately began arguing while Kingsly went to go investigate himself Thats not a nest! Its just a piece of ice! Zachery said, for what may have been the sixth or seventh time, judging from his already exhausted expression. That is a nest... Orphus replied, calmly. Its not a damn nest. Look at it. Theres nothing in there. Zachery, brother, Ive been doing this for much longer than you have. Trust my judgement. I would if your judgement didnt include a meals-on-wheels senility addition. You would see your own son die at the hands of Ivorn... for your lack of perception and patience. The initiates all watched in silence. Kingsly inspected the glinting prismatic formation from afar, before warping over to his two friends. I fear that old Orphus is correct. It does appear to be a ley-construct. Zachery looked a little stunned, rubbing his head. It was the first time Wyatt had seen a definite lack of confidence Ah... my apologies... he said, sheepishly. We can only hope it is inactive. We have to pass it. This is the only way. Orphus, brother, go ahead to Palthgar and inform the Callers. We cannot afford to lose these initiates. Orphus nodded, before disappearing in the blink of an eye. Kingsly turned to the silent onlookers The ivorn are creatures of the cryoley. They spawn from anomalies such as this. He gestured to the icy mass We

require your total silence for this part of the journey. In the way voices can create avalanches, they too can disturb the constructs. Tread as lightly as you can. Utter not a word. Hold your breath when you can... and most importantly... do not... touch... the ice. He gave them all a sincere look, before beckoning and turning. The initiates slowly followed him, eyeing the unnatural towering pillar of ice. The spirits continued talking and giving advice as they drew closer to the nest. Their voices were inaudible to the world, and evidently to the ivorn. Theyd occasionally say things like Careful now... Slowly, slowly... Wyatt, Darius and Lizzy all looked quite nervous. Anya was trying to hide her fears as usual, instead fixing a cruel stare at the ice, as if trying to scare it off. Vagrant just carried on, still digging for the group. Hed slowed down to minimise the level of noise made. They tentatively and lightly moved by the strange crystalline object, not daring to even let out a whisper. The ice showed no signs of disturbance, or even life. From an unknowing glance, it would have simply looked like a slab of harmless frozen water. Perhaps that was what it was, and this was just a precaution. As Vagrant dug, his hiking stick thudded against a rock. The soft clunk of stone on wood made everyone come to a standstill and stare at the smooth-surfaced icy bulk. Everyone armed placed their hands on the hilts of their weapons, their bated breaths coming out in steamy clouds. Nothing happened. Kingsly narrowed his eyes. He walked through the initiates and approached the so-called nest for a second time. He seemed surprised; perhaps even the slightest sound should have been enough to void it. Whats wrong? Zachery asked from the head of the pack. Nothing. Thats the problem. Ivorn are light sleepers... he looked to the others This nest is empty... Thats good news, right? Zachery asked, walking over to Kingsly, who shook his head in response It means they are already awake. The blizzard last night could well have stirred every ivorn nest in the region... Then where are they? Kingsly prepared to give an ignorant answer, before stopping, slowly turning to Vagrant as he breathed a solemn reply Theyre here... He drew his broadsword as the snow before the group erupted upwards into the air. A large, spiked, glistening form emerged from beneath the white shroud. The humanoid construct landed on two feet. Its icy ribcage exposed, its head hollow and skull-like and a pair of blue flares for eyes. Its spine was adorned with a dozen fine quills, and its arms were thin and frail, somehow capable of full movement without any sort of muscle tissue. The entire thing was slightly transparent, clearly made of the ice that birthed it. It let out a rattling shriek, the same noise theyd all heard the night before the moment the flames had bloomed. It raised its pair of bestial clawed hands, ready to attack. Vagrant stood defiantly in its path, sword raised, his black hair swaying in the creatures freezing breath. The ivorn began to pace, keeping Vagrant in sight at all times. Vagrant slowly rotated, muttering to the handlers that had appeared nearby How do I kill it? Zachery seemed anxious to move Vagrant away You cant kill it. Its not alive. Its just animated. Then how do I stop it? Just back away slowly... Dont throw your life away... Zachery had his hands raised towards Vagrants shoulders. He was unable to touch him, and Wyatt could see the frustration in his eyes. It

wont attack. Not yet. Vagrant very slowly took a few steps back. The ivorn just watched with its burning blue eyes, leaving a trail of ghostly smoke in the air. Wyatt, Darius, Anya... Move around it, and keep walking... Itll maul us, you psychopath! Anya yelled. The ivorn stared at her, its quills rattling. Stay quiet! Its waiting before it attacks. I told you, these things dont take risks. Its giving time for reinforcements to arrive. We need to be gone before that happens... The hunched ivorn monstrosity slowly extended to its full height, reaching about three metres. It seemed to growl, quietly, an echoic, glassy growl. It shook a flurry of snow from its back as the initiates slowly moved around it, keeping its eyes locked on theirs. Dont turn your back on it... Kingsly kept repeating Stay focused... Dont show weakness... Dont give it an opportunity... We should kill it... Vagrant stated, irritably It will only follow us otherwise... The ivorn dont die easily... Zachery walked in front of Vagrant, as if trying to block his intentions It could kill you a lot faster than you damage it... Just back away. Orphus will send for help. Lets just keep moving. The fiend looked at Vagrants sword, then back into his eyes again, straight through Zachery. Creepy is right. Anya interjected. The ivorn looked at her, peering at the axe in her hand We wont stand a chance if we just walk away and let him call friends... Its already called its friends. Thats what that roar was. Zachery responded, desperately Then we have to break it and hide before the family gets here! We cant hide while its watching! Darius looked at Anya as she objected I believe we should listen to them... They are our handlers after all. Lizzy stood up, balancing on Laos shoulder. The ivorn looked at her next, and so she instinctively stared back Theres more of us... We can take it. But at what cost?! Zachery cried, raking his fingers across his face with disgruntlement He could wound or even kill one of you. We have a mountain to climb. Just hear me out. The others looked at Wyatt, the only one who hadnt voiced his opinion What do you think? asked Lizzy Yeah. Do we run like rats? Or fight like people? Anya added. Wyatt pondered Im pretty sure people can run too... Hell I bet a few rats have fought on occasion. Wyatt! I know, I know! Lets just hear Zachery out. He pointed to his father, not taking his eyes off the wispy orbs floating within the monsters hollow eye sockets. Convince me. Whats your plan? The ivorn grew confident for a moment, taking a few strides forward. Vagrant raised his sword, and it backed away, letting out a few clicks from within its mouth. Talkative little guy, isnt he? Lizzy muttered. Zachery, having recovered from the slight shock of the ivorns advance, gave a rundown of his plan We continue to head up the mountain. We do not engage the construct. We climb as far as we can before reinforcements arrive. By that time, with any luck, our own backup will have arrived. Everyone gave Zachery a look of disbelief. ...What? Wyatt drew his daggers You lost me at with any luck Anya pulled out her pistol in her free hand, loading it. This thing doesnt know what a gun is, right? I dont-... Kingsly began Good! Anya cried, raising the pistol and firing it at the ivorns head. The crystalline skull shattered, half of it turning into diamond dust in the air. The creature crashed into the snow and

vanished from sight. Anya twirled the smoking gun on her finger and slid it into the holster. The gunshot rung through the air still, long after the ivorns body was submerged in the snow it had risen from. Nice shot... Lizzy said, almost reluctantly. Anya stared at her I had a lot of practice. She grinned at Lizzys disgusted expression. ...This tension was needlessly built up... Wyatt commented, frowning at his father. Its not dead! I told you, you cant ki- LOOK OUT! The party quickly dispersed as the ivorn (with half its head now missing) burst from the snow and charged at them. It bounded after Vagrant first with animalistic movements, switching seamlessly from quadruped to biped locomotion. With a chiming hum, the creature slashed its claws at the hooded initiate, only to have the entire hand severed by Vagrants great sword, brought down with full force. The others all stood, covered from head to foot in snow. Lizzy was nowhere to be seen, but a vermus shaped hole in the snow indicated to where she was entombed. Anya began to reload as the ivorn changed its priorities to her, leaving its severed hand behind and pouncing at her. She flew a dozen feet away as the ivorn unleashed a back-handed strike to her face. Wyatt looked down uselessly at his ivoryon pistol. He had no powder or ammo for it. Cursing, he switched to his knives again and charged in its way as it loomed over Darius. The blades sang majestically as they cut their way through one of the ivorns spindly, frozen legs. As it stumbled, Wyatt attacked the remaining leg, severing it with a scissor cut. He forgot to account for the lack of support, and disappeared under the monsters body as it fell. Kingsly and Zachery watched, gawking slightly, helplessly. The ivorn crawled, using its one remaining hand to drag itself tenaciously and relentlessly towards Vagrant again, who had his blade poised, ready. It raised its hand to deliver an open palmed slam, but several small throwing knives clipped its claws before it could do so. It turned to see Lizzy, standing on the fragile crust of snow, preparing a fan of blades in her paw. It let out another rattling roar, and Lizzy took the opportunity to fill its already broken mouth full of tiny dart-sized blades. In the distraction, Vagrant dashed up the beasts spine and arced his sword down at the ivorns neck, severing its head from its body. He followed up by leaping from the limp bodys back and slamming down on the icy skull with his boot, shattering it into irredeemable fragments. Vagrant panted, sheathing the blade and pulling his hood down. His scarred face showed a smile for the first time. He turned, shoving the frozen ribcage away and pulling Wyatt up out of the snow. Wyatts chin had a slight cut, but he was otherwise unharmed. Anya approached as well, rubbing her jaw and circling it on its hinges Looks dead to me. Wyatt chuckled, eyeing the spirits Is it? They both shook their heads. Vagrant rolled his good eye, unsheathing his sword again and hacking mercilessly at the creatures remains. He sliced and diced the ivorn until it was nothing but tiny shards and ice cubes small enough to fit in a cocktail. ...How about now?... he said, between some exhausted breaths. Its all perspective, Vagrant. Its just the way you look at it. Zachery stated. He eyed the mountains, nervously We should move. This one wont be going anywhere any time soon. Anya scoffed Any time soon? Its farling glitter! Its dust! Its nothing. Its dead! Kingsly bit his lip, looking at the chunky frosted mess Ive seen them recover from worse... Come. We must continue. Its family will arrive soon. A few distant howls and roars echoed through the Reach. The initiates didnt need telling twice.

They dug in pairs, pushing through the snow quickly, side by side. The mountain pass grew narrower as they climbed higher. The sounds of the blood lusting ivorn horde steadily grew louder, but its echoes made it impossible to tell which direction they were encroaching from. They passed by several more nests as they climbed, all of them evidently as empty as the one before. Why didnt we just wear snow shoes?! Wyatt complained, pushing his way through the snow Theyre all the rage in Glacenox! Urgh, dont talk to me about Glacenox... Anya spat, digging frantically. She sneered at Darius beside her Bet you dont even know what Glacenox is, huh pretty boy? Darius didnt respond, concentrating, rather wisely, on preserving his own life via escape. You ever even held a weapon? Are you just gonna be a liability to us? Anya. Enough Kingsly ordered, sternly. No! Not enough! Hes not pulling his weight. Why should we have to look after him? she looked back at Darius Well? Do you even know how to lift a blade?! Darius just chuckled softly, still digging and pressing on Do you know how to put one down? he replied, quite coldly. Because thats what strength is, Anya. Knowing when violence isnt the answer... he looked at her, pleasantly, politely In such respects, I suppose that makes you weaker than I. Anya stopped herself lashing out, shaking her head and facing forward again Of course youve got a philosophy in which youre best... All you nobles do... The initiates ascended the narrow path and emerged onto a large, flat clearing. The stretches of white, untouched snow extended for several hundred metres, closed within a ring of mountains. There were multiple paths in the distant mountain walls to choose from, and the group came to a sudden halt Which way? Wyatt asked. Zachery gave an unexpected response None. Were staying here. Everyone split up. Find a place in the snow to hide and stay perfectly still. Vagrant calmly objected We are at our weakest when spread thin... Dont argue. Theres no time. Theres less chance of them finding you this way. Move! Now! The group divided, rushing into the snow, hugging the rocky rises theyd just emerged from. One by one, they dived out of sight, disappearing into the powdery, waist-high white. Wyatt was the last to duck into cover, waiting for a few seconds, his curiosity getting the better of him as the feral sounds grew closer. It was only when a wave of movement gushed from the very same mountain pass theyd used only minutes ago that he threw himself down and buried himself from sight. Beneath the snow, Wyatt waited, listening carefully for activity. The ivorn were moving about above him, sprinting through the clearing, unhindered. It sounded like dozens of them were on the move, some of them racing away, some of them lingering to search the area. Over their snarls and grunts, Zachery and Kingsly were shouting No one move an inch! Do not emerge until we say! Their eyes on the surface were a certain reassurance, but even they were not enough to stop the nerves from building as one set of feet moved away from the group, and approached. Wyatt shivered, the rhythmic, automatous stomping moving just a few yards from his head. He heard the rattling breaths, the hungry growls, the quivering quills on the creatures spine. It stopped in its tracks, perhaps looking around, maybe even sniffing the air. Wyatt... dont move... Zachery was nearby too It will leave... The creature stomped around a little, one of its sharp crystalline feet slamming down mere inches from Wyatts body. As he reached for his daggers, Zacherys voice urgently begged him STOP! Dont... move...

Trust me... Wyatt restrained himself, lying perfectly still. The ivorn above him sniffed again, its frigid leg twitching. After a moment, it let out an ear-splitting shriek, and rushed off, the sounds of its strides fading into the distance. In almost perfect unison, the others seemed to follow its lead. In a little under thirty seconds, all that remained was silence. As the hunting ivorn finally reached a safe distance, the spirits gave the ok Alright, you can come out. One by one, the initiates popped their heads out of the snow, glancing in all directions, wearily. Vagrant just sort of rose from the snow like some terrible lurking abnormality, standing up straight and casually brushing himself down. The others followed suit, standing and sweeping some of the snow from their hide coats. Not the brightest of things, are they? Wyatt said, sweeping a cloud of white from his sleeve Figures theyd at least know how to find folk in their own habitat. Dont speak too soon, son. Zachery said, turning to Kingsly Ill follow them and warn you all if they start backtracking. Kingsly bowed his head Very well. I shall escort our friends to the steps. Zachery turned , taking a few strides before vanishing. Kingsly took point, beckoning only once Come then, masters and misses. Not much further now. The others formed a line behind him. The snow was much deeper in this flat clearing; excellent for hiding in but awkward to move through. We call this place The Spectral Crater. It was formed years before recorded history... years before even the Palecallers existed. Lizzys voice piped up from somewhere in the trench of deep snow. ...How was it formed? Were not entirely sure... but we believe Stanley may be responsible. Anya frowned, her axe still drawn Who the farl is Stanley? Oh... Stanley is our warden... Kingsly shrugged I suppose hes also our pet. You have a pet that can make huge craters?... Wyatt asked. Anya pushed him aside How can the thing that made this be your pet? He was clearly here before The Palecallers were! Well observed, Miss Hrongmar. Indeed, we found Stanley here... Come along. Id not approach the craters centre, if I were you. He usually finds strangers quite repellent... Darius blinked Its... still here? Hes a little large to fit inside Palthgar, Im afraid, Master Lao. He seems content here. ...How large?... asked Lizzy. Kingsly tilted his head from side to side, before pointing at a towering mountain Give or take a few metres... The group fell silent. Oh, dont fret, masters and misses! Once you get to know him, hes like a big puppy. Its a shame the other ivorn dont share his passivity. Hes an ivorn? In physicality, yes, Master Lao. In spirit, however, he is something else entirely. Something with a purpose... Something... ancient... perhaps even older than the gods themselves. We may never know why he was sent here... The six of them travelled across the craters rim, moving to one of the many winding paths that crept away into the mountains once again. This path was slightly different, it felt more constructed, man-made. The walls were occasionally dotted with carvings, and the ground littered with broken and scattered stone steps. The blanket of snow did not settle well on this path, it seemed, and no digging was required to progress further. Ergh... Is there a reason The Palecallers live this high? Wyatt stopped for a moment, stretching his legs

Actually, yes Kingsly answered Not only does it deter all but the terribly ambitious, but it also provides a healthy atmosphere for learning... Lizzy snorted Yeah! The thin air and the freezing cold. All schools should be like that... Youre being too literal, Miss Forktongue. As Palecallers, individuals imbued with the cryoley, youre best suited to a frozen environment. Kingsly smiled Have you ever heard the myth that ghosts are cold when you... move through them? The group nodded. They are cold because they need to be. Just as you need to be to understand them. He turned, walking backwards for a few moments and offering his hand to Anya Touch me, if you dont believe me. Anya just recoiled slightly I believe you just fine... Kingsly smirked, turning. His smirk vanished. Standing before them, having emerged from crevices in the mountain walls, were three ivorn. Only one of them had the same humanoid structure they were familiar with. The two smaller ivorn at the creatures side were quadrupedal canines, with dog-like skulls, hollow bodies with exposed rib cages, and the same glowing blue mist within their empty eye sockets. Everyone drew their weapons. Anya took a pouch of powder and a few bullets, tossing them to Wyatt who began loading his pistol. She loaded her own, while Vagrant pulled a large knife from his boot and handed it to Darius As one... he said, softly. Darius nodded. Wyatt pulled the hammer back on his gun, glancing to Kingsly Any bright ideas? No... The initiates held up their weapons. Two more humanoid ivorn leapt down from the surrounding mountains, slamming to the floor with a cloud of snow. They took their positions beside the attack dogs ...How about now?... Wyatt asked. The constructs stood in silence, their shoulders slowly rising and falling, frozen dust bleeding from their mouths with every pointless exhale. Anya and Wyatt pointed their guns with a pair of quiet clicks. Hounds first? Sounds like a plan... The wind howled quietly through the ascending pass, carrying a few swirling flakes as it brushed through the partys hair and hides. The two forces remained in a standoff, neither daring to move. ...Waiting for friends?... Lizzy clambered up Wyatts back, standing on his shoulder and drawing eight or so small knives from her bandolier. No... They are giving you the first move. Just... hold. Kingsly watched the skies with eagle eyes, desperately searching for something. Another ivorn leapt down, landing behind the others. This one was hulking, one of its arms thick and wide to serve as a sort of shield. We cant wait. We need to fight before were overwhelmed... I concur.. Vagrant nodded to Anya and Wyatt. They both looked at each other briefly, before straightening their arms and firing. Wyatts shot missed the target by inches, while Anyas hit dead on. One of the ivorn hounds shattered and dispersed in the light wind. As the ivorn forces charged, Anya had time to throw an insult Wyatts way WHERE THE FARL DID YOU LEARN TO SHOOT!? Ive fired a gun ONCE in my life! Gimme a break! he holstered the gun, switching to his daggers, and together the initiates all charged. Closer the groups grew, ready to clash at any moment. One deathly silent, the other letting out a crazed war cry.

Then a shadow darted over head. Something detached from it, something living. A hooded and robed figure landed between the charging forces, falling seemingly straight from the sky. Something whirred and clicked beneath his long sleeves, and he raised a clawed hand. A burst of flame gushed from an unseen source towards the ivorn. They screeched and scattered in seconds, climbing up the mountains and disappearing from sight. A crash behind the initiates caused them to turn; a curious glider-like device landing roughly on the steps and automatically folding up. They glanced back to their saviour, who still had his back to them. ...Uh... Wyatt began. Thanks.... Lizzy completed his sentiment. We could have taken them... Anya said, her eyes shifting, uncomfortably. Clearly she didnt like to seem the damsel in distress. The robed man turned, a cloud of steam escaping the folds of the hood. A shiny black nose and a grey furry muzzle came into sight, followed by a pair of yellow lupine eyes. The party instantly raised their guard again, flinching only when Kingsly called Stand down! Hes a friend... The fenrye didnt acknowledge the spirits voice, instead giving a slight nod as Darius, Lizzy and Vagrant lowered their weapons. Wyatt and Anya stayed at full guard. Master Rook, Miss Hrongmar... Stand down... Now... They eventually played ball, sheathing their blades. The fenrye pulled back his sleeve, twisting a dial on a wondrous device that was clipped to his wrist. No doubt it was this that created the spout of fire. He silently pointed to the glider. Darius helpfully went and fetched it. It had folded into a handy collapsible plank. He tentatively and vigilantly approached the fenrye, breaking from the security of the line of initiates. As he reached the hooded beast and held the contraption out, the fenrye instead grabbed hold of Laos wrist. The others grabbed the hilts of their weapons, watching with prejudice. ....Do you know what fear smells like?... the fenrye spoke in his foreign accent, a harsh and cold one at that. Darius shook his head. It is the very same stench, veygar... that lingers over war... the smell of... defeat. He leant forward, his nose almost touching Laos I do not like this smell... Darius narrowed his eyes and pulled his wrist away. The fenrye released him, his glare turning into a look of pleasant surprise. Yes. Yes! You have no reason to fear, so you overcome, yes? He looked at Anya and Wyatt, scratching his muzzle briefly They have reason to fear. Reason to hate. He took the glider from Darius and turned Come, morsels. I hold your hand while we climb. He padded off up the stairs, looking over his shoulder briefly Come, kaar! Come! Or you will learn what fear smells like. He grinned, flashing some gleaming fangs, before proceeding, a bushy tail emerging from the robes and swaying behind him. ...Do as he says... Kingsly ordered. Anya turned quickly Are you out of your mind? Hes a fenrye! Cant you see that?! She looked to the others for reassurance Youre not all going along with this, right?! She turned to Wyatt Right?! ...Id rather follow him than wait here... Wyatt said. Anya looked disgusted Hell kill you! Hell kill you all! No one is asking you to yield your weapons, Miss Hrongmar... He will tolerate your behaviour for now. He will not harm you. Kingsly began to ascend the steps All of you. Come. The initiates all followed Kingsly, except for Anya, who stubbornly stayed put. As the shrieks of distant ivorn rung over the mountains again however, she muttered, losing her nerve and jogging up the steps to keep up with her colleagues. The initiates followed the fenrye up the stone steps. The further they climbed, the more maintained they appeared. Soon the snow was only in soft patches, the path instead covered with a

dark stone. The fenrye would occasionally look behind him to see if the others were following, but said not another word for the duration of the climb. Soon, the path opened out, in the way a river opens out onto the sea. The mountains parted, revealing the very pinnacle of The Ivory Reach. There, perched right before them, at the summit of yet more steps, stood a giant and majestic fort. Braziers burnt away at the grey stone walls, two large towers extended upwards from the left and right sides. It almost seemed to be part of the mountains themselves, with yet more towering stone on one side, and a sheer drop on the opposite. Rime was visible far below when looking over the edge. The distant green of Norvask and even Haven was visible on this clear day. Several tattered banners hung from an archway that blocked entry to the castle. If it werent for the flames, the place would have seemed abandoned. An enormous gate sat within the arch. It was as black as night, and smooth as polished crystal. Ebonstone, the strongest known substance to man. The fenrye bounded up the steps on all fours, standing at the summit and staring down, his eyes wide like an excitable childs. Welcome home, brothers and sisters. Welcome, to Palthgar. He stood beside the gate, waiting for the others to climb, patiently. Zachery and Orphus were already waiting as the group reached the final step, and walked out onto the stone before the door. The gate was seamless, and totally featureless, with the exception of one tiny thing; a keyhole. The three spirits looked at Wyatt. Well... Master Rook... Open the door... And hear the call of The Pale... Wyatt removed the ivoryon key from its satchel, and reached for the keyhole. The key hummed as it fit perfectly within the lock, and turned. Several mechanical clicks, clanks and whirrs travelled through the ebonstone. After a final, echoing thud, the door slowly swung inwards. Waiting for them on the other side was a single woman, dressed all in shimmering ivoryon armour. Her hair was as white as the snow theyd climbed through and her skin had barely a hint of colour. Her face was unblemished and beautiful, her dark green eyes amplified by the lightness of her complexion. She wore a small circlet on her head, which squeezed her shoulder length hair. She gave an enchanting smile as her eyes fell upon the group, and Darius threw himself into a formal and noble kneel Master he said. Lizzy burst out laughing, pointing at the preciph Seriously?! Wyatt nodded, sadly Im afraid so... The Palecaller gestured for Darius to stand Youve all been through much to get here... It is in my duty to ensure your efforts were not in vain. Welcome to the family, initiates. Welcome... to The Palecallers.

Chapter Fourteen The Pale Market

Sixty Five Days Ago Youve made it, my son. Youve evaded the wranglers, the beasts of Rime and the numerous criminals that call the Northern Trade Way their home. Youve endured Norvask and the Ivory Reach. Youve likely faced threats scarcely imaginable and yet here you stand, beyond the black gates of Palthgar, within the sanctity of its walls. Nothing can harm you hear, Wyatt, except yourself. And right now, you are your greatest enemy, for your next challenge is the trial. It is a test The Palecallers have come to name; The Salience. There is no combat, no adrenaline, no violence... just endurance, patience, and acceptance. The threat stems from within your will. Where Ive normally told you to fight for survival, and struggle to the bitter end, this is the one time where you will have to do the opposite. To accept such a fate requires courage, but most of all it requires focus; focus you will need if you wish to pass the trial unscathed. The callers will give you all the details you need, and it is better coming from them than it is from me. I have not witnessed this process before. Every Palecaller present has been here longer than I. New initiates come in roughly thirty year intervals. The selection and development process is difficult, especially considering the differences in life spans for vermus, humans and fenrye. Centuries of new initiates being introduced to Palthgar at different ages has yielded results, and the results are most positive at this age, early twenties for humans and fenrye, and around twelve for the more swiftly aging vermus. Remember that we all want you to survive this test, and will do everything we can to help. If it were possible, The Palecallers would skip this stage, but through the years of attempting alternative methods, nothing seems to work. This is the only way. You cannot help The Palecallers until you are one with The Pale. Every caller you meet, every caller present and every caller before you has gone through this process. The Salience will help you comprehend The Pale. It will help you communicate with its inhabitants. It will aid in unlocking your potential, but also, importantly, it will help grant you the internal peace that is required. We fear rogue spirits, the entities known as omens... can you imagine what it would be like if a Palecaller became an omen? That is why you need to be at peace. You need to let go of your ties to this realm. You need to accept that death will be finality. You cannot hold hope of return, or brashly actualise or fabricate unfinished business. I came back as a spirit, Wyatt. You cannot. Palecallers cannot be spirits. There is a danger there, a danger even I cant fully explain. Someone with the power a trained Palecaller possesses has no place in the spiritual ream. Their very purpose is to control and protect it. If they left their physical restrictions behind, entering the Pale with all they knew, all theyd gained... Well... Its a frightening thought. Understand this, my son. You cannot succumb to your lesser needs... they will hold you back, in more ways than one. Let go of your past. Focus on the future. It is often what you were... not what you are...that traps you. Ive been waiting for this moment for a long time, Wyatt. I have faith in you. Youre different to the others, I just know it. I can feel it. You dont have to believe me... but believe in yourself. Please, just... believe in yourself.

Present Day The ebonstone gates of Palthgar steadily slid shut, dragging along the forts floor, leaving a pair of dark grooves in the footprint-ridden snow. Midday had already passed, the sun beaming down pleasantly from the pale blue clear skies. Gentle winds carried the odd flurry of swirling flakes through the entry courtyard of The Palecallers home. The two towers loomed overhead, the occasional squawk sounding out from within. The call of the dark birds within, and the soft gusts of wind were the only ambient sounds present. Just beyond the bordering bulwark, a shovelled out stone path stretched up through the square. It stopped as it reached a large, wooden double door. Iron fittings and elegant metal engravings covered its frosty surface. The door must have led into the fort itself. As the initiates took a few steps towards this door, the woman theyd just met cleared her throat. They turned Wrong way. Dont worry, there will be plenty of time to explore later. She looked to each of them in turn. Something about her was strange. When peering into her eyes, Wyatt saw a kind of wisdom that only comes with age. Her eyes were older than the rest of her, somehow. Im sure you all have a lot of questions. Theres so much information that your handlers cannot provide you with for security reasons... Anya stepped forward, asking the pressing question that was clearly on everyones minds Why the farl is this mutt playing guide to us? she gestured to the grey furred fenrye in the hood and robes. The fenrye chuckled lowly. He rolled his eyes at the woman as she threw a glance to him, smirking This mutt is a good friend of mine. In time he will be a good friend to you all, I hope. She looked back to the group before her My name is Sahavra, but everyone calls me Saar. Not master, or teacher, or some other formal title... Just Saar. She nodded at Darius, clearly the designated target for this message. My friend here is Volke. She gestured to the fenrye, who pulled his hood down. His tattered grey ears sprung into sight, and he grinned, briefly exposing his bestial canines. Everyone calls me Volke... not Mutt... he made a gesture with his hands, bringing his fingers to his eyes, before pointing them at Anya. Anya growled in a way somehow more animalistic than he currently seemed. Your prejudice is forgiven, spit-roast. You were born in times of war. These times... they change you. They change you before you leave womb. Anyas eye twitched Spit-roast? Whats that supposed to mean!? Saar casually raised a hand to hush Anya Volke is joking. Its nothing personal, he does it to all of us. She gave a slightly disapproving look to Volke Right? Volke nodded, leisurely ...Right, mouthful... Saar beamed, clapping her chalk-white hands together Excellent. Would you all come with me, please? she waved a hand towards Palthgars right flank. A second path led off and around the external corner of the main fort. She set off down it, her walking straight over the sheet of snow in her path without breaking it. Wyatt rose an eyebrow, turning to his father as the group began to follow Shes a spirit?... Zachery shook his head Shes a Palecaller. The snow, the ice, the cold... Its part of her now, just as it will be with you. When you control the cryoley, you will be able to manipulate the snow in such a way too. Wyatt nodded, rubbing his nose which was still red from the biting winds from yesterday Is that it? Zachery laughed, shaking his head and walking on ahead. Wyatt just shrugged, following What?... Whaaat?

The group rounded the corner and went up a small flight of slippery stone steps. Several icicles hung from an alcove above their heads as they moved up the narrow passage, the fort on one side and a wall on the other. Saar reached the summit of the steps first and jogged a few paces, turning in anticipation. The others followed suit, emerging over the final step, one by one. Before them was a large, flat staging ground. Pillars and broken columns scattered the edges, their details weathered away and their bodies cracked. Another door into the keep itself was on their left, while far to the right, across this curious courtyard, the floor simply ran out. The square opened out onto a sheer (and dangerous looking) drop. There were no barricades or railings to stop a minor slip from being the end of a clumsy someones life. The rim was jagged and broken, as if something else used to exist here, but it had snapped away and fallen into The Reach. Overlooking the sudden end of stone, sat on the precipice, were dozens of crystalline, icy statues of varying humanoid races. A few torn, rugged banners flapped in the docile winds, hanging from some of the dilapidated constructions. In the plazas centre, and dotted here and there all the way to the edges, stood around twelve wooden and aged market stalls. The stalls werent too dissimilar to the ones in Fern, except with an obvious lack of produce to sell. The place seemed abandoned. It was an eerie sight, and Wyatt felt a tingle creep down his spine as he looked out onto the ominous scene. The initiates stopped before Saar, while Volke walked past her and into the court. Now Palthgar has seen better days, its true, but sometimes its better off looking abandoned and ruined. The Palecallers are meant to be all dead, after all. Im sure some of you have heard about the siege on Palthgar that occurred around three hundred and fifty years ago? Darius was the only one that nodded. Since that assault on our home, The Palecallers have received no hassle from the law enforcement of Sovreignous. You are safe here, so long as you follow our instructions and dont betray us. No matter what offers the wranglers make, it will only be to use you before the end. Now, speaking of wranglers... How many of you have encountered them directly? Wyatt and Vagrant raised their hands. Did you accept anything from them, or take any of their possessions? Vagrant shook his head, while Wyatt felt a jolt go through his stomach ...Uh... he said, nervously. He pulled out the identification card hed taken from the wrangler hed knocked unconscious nearly forty days ago. Hed left the large crossbow behind on the carriage. Just this. Saar beckoned with her hand, before holding it up. Wyatt tossed the card over, and Saar caught it, examining it. Kristian Prowler... It always surprises me to hear the monsters have names... Almost like theyre normal people. She flipped the card in her hand, looking at Rook Youre Zacherys son, yes? The thief? I can see why something like this would be appealing. Mhm. I could have done a lot with that. Saar closed her fingers around the card, a few beams of blue light escaping from between them. When she opened her hand, the card was frozen solid. She blew upon it, and it broke into glinting dust and escaped with a quiet wind that followed. Wranglers can track using the most unlikely objects. Youre better off just staying away from their belongings, unless you want them turning up again. She smiled at Rooks guilty expression Dont worry, Wyatt. Youre not in trouble. This is a place of learning. Youre here to develop your mind and hone your abilities. We dont expect perfection on day one. Wyatt nodded Wont happen again. Zachery seemed unable to contain himself He knocked one out. He exclaimed, proudly. I killed four... Vagrant replied, without turning. Zachery blinked, before hanging his head. Saar looked between the initiates

Well, come on. Ill show you around the market. She whirled around, her ivoryon armour singing with each step. The others followed. The group walked into the centre of the plaza. It was still terribly quiet, and strangely chilling. Volke had taken a seat at one of the market stall chairs, leaning back lazily, his large clawed feet resting upon the stall itself. Saar stopped them in the rough centre There was a time where this place was buzzing with life. During the reign of the divines we were a necessary force. The Palecallers of old would walk through our halls with the divines themselves at their sides... she let out a sorrowful sigh. No steam came from within her mouth the way it did with every initiates exhale. But it is in our nature to reject. To hold onto what we know. To fear the unknown... and to point blame where its not needed. She waved a hand through the air, irritably Bah. Its not like you came here for a history lesson. Youre here to become Palecallers, and this is how you do it. She waved to the foreboding edge. The eyes could see for miles around, all the way down through the snowy peaks of the Reach to the green grass of Haven and Norvask. We call this trial The Salience. It means clarity. It means theres something right before your eyes... but until you pass the trial, you cant see it. Wait... Were... doing the trial now? Lizzy asked. Wouldnt it be better if we rested first? Weve been fighting ivorn... On the contrary, young one, your chances are improved following exposure to the elements. To pamper you, and allow you rest, would only reset the defences youve built. This is the best way. Weve had a lot of time to determine this. What must we do?... uttered Vagrant, impatiently. Saar looked at Vagrant with concern, before raising her eyebrows to Orphus. Orphus bowed his head into a languid nod. Well... Vagrant... Its very simple, really. Volke hopped off his chair and padded over as Saar explained You must take your place on the edge, and wait. As Lumina ends, and Glace begins, The Reachs peaks at night can plummet to temperatures as low as minus fifty degrees... Anya and Wyatt looked a little confused To put it in perspective, water freezes at zero degrees... Wyatt and Anya nodded You must allow the cold to take you. Your heart rate will slow, your body will go numb, and you may experience some symptoms of hypothermia. Initiates have experienced symptoms as severe as delirium and still survived. Remember your chances are improved by your cryoley. You are one with the cold, it is your ally... you just have to learn to control it. This is insane! Anya objected. Well die! For once, I actually agree with her... said Lizzy This seems like suicide... Every Palecaller before you, and every Palecaller present within has gone through this trial. It is the only way to attune you to The Pale. Even Glace himself had to go through a similar process. Weve tried to simulate the effects. Weve even tried to manually cool initiates ourselves, but nothing has had a higher success rating than this. Its not suicide. Many pass unscathed. How?! Anya blurted You trust in yourself. You feel the cold as more than just a lack of warmth... it is its own entity, and it is yours to command. Let it take you, and believe in your own power. The ley has saved you all once. It can do it again. How do we know when weve passed?... asked Lizzy. When we freeze to death? Saar shook her head, before answering rather cryptically Youll know when... There was a flap as Vagrant pulled off his long feathered coat and tossed it onto a nearby stall. He was wearing some dark leather armour underneath it. The sleeves ended just past his shoulders, and a number of interesting ink tattoos were visible on his arms.

Just tell me where to go... he ordered. Saar seemed surprised by his enthusiasm. She pointed over to the precipice, where the icy statues were surveying the realm below Tradition states we overlook the land we protect. It helps, trust me. Between the statues?... Wyatt asked, tentatively. They arent statues... Volke replied. His eyes focused in on a single fenrye male statue, sitting on the edge, its eyes closed. They are memories... he shivered and walked away again, sitting at a different stall. Good luck, siblings. he called as he sat. Vagrant had already broken away and was walking across the square to the edge. Saar watched him, intrigued Orphus... You said he has a death wish?... Thats correct, Sahavra... the withered ghost answered Interesting... Good. It means he wont fight it...And that he has nothing to stay for... She looked at the others You could learn something from him. Accept your fate, no matter which way it takes you. You must be at peace with your life. If this is where it is to end, then you must come to terms with this. You cannot manifest in The Pale. You cannot leave unfinished business. Do you all understand? The initiates nodded Good. Trust in yourself. Be at peace. Be calm, and leave your past behind. It is your past that snares you... She glanced to each of them in turn I have faith in you all. Your handlers have faith in you all. Return us the favour, and have faith in yourselves. She bowed They call to us... almost immediately, Kingsly, Orphus, Zachery and even Volke from a distance replied with And we call back. Saar winked, and walked away, moving to another market stall. The three spirits all followed her, eager to discuss their journey, no doubt. Darius and Wyatt began to wander towards the edge, but stopped to wait for Anya and Lizzy who had not moved an inch Come on. You knew this was coming. Wyatt said to the pair of them I was expecting some sort of... combat trial or maybe a few riddles! Lizzy replied Ive never been good with the cold! Thats because youve never let it in... Darius said, like some sort of sage. What, and you have, rich boy? Anya spat Why the farl are you so confident. Youve spent less time in the cold than all of us! Darius just smiled I am at peace, and I am willingly to try. He turned and walked away, his cloak dragging in the thin layer of snow. Anya and Lizzy stared after him with disbelief. Wyatt judged their slightly insecure expressions, and knew which buttons to press Well, youre about to be shown up by Darius Lao. I guess hes just... better than you two... He turned, a grin appearing on his face as the prospect left the two girls daunted. They squabbled on who should go first, before breaking into a run and shooting past Wyatt, halting only when they reached the cracked edge. Like Vagrant, Darius removed his coat. Unlike Vagrant, he used it as a cushion to sit upon. Vagrant was simply kneeling in the snow, staring out and taking in the breathtaking views. Wyatt, Anya and Lizzy kept their coats on for now. It would be several hours before night began to creep in, and Rook for one could not imagine being in such a climate without at least some shielding from the cold. Wyatt sat between a pair of frigid human sculptures, one male and one female. They had coats on, like he did. Both of their eyes were closed. The details on their bodies were staggering. It was possible to make out every miniscule object on their bandoliers, and a few within their satchels. It was only then that he thought back to what Volke had said, and his heart dropped. The handlers had told him how frequently this trial claims lives. Theyd never said what happened to the bodies.

Unsettled, Wyatt stood up again, choosing a new location. He decided to sit near the only person he genuinely now felt comfortable with; Darius. The time theyd spent together had been enough to make his ambitious and certain attitude tolerable. Darius had picked a place not too far from the fenrye Volke had looked at earlier. Wyatt thudded into the snow a few metres from Dariuss side, looking out as the winds swept streams of powdery snow from the many peaks of The Ivory Reach. Darius gave him a welcoming look, the warmest thing Wyatt had seen since last nights fire. Quite the adventure. Lao said, waving out towards Norvask. I think I can even see the keep where we were held from here... How do you do it, Darius? Wyatt asked, sincerely. How do ya hold that smile, no matter what? Doesnt none of this ever get to ya? he nodded to the frozen fenrye. Darius gave it a look I have a rule, friend. He gave a little salute to the fenrye, before turning back to Rook The day someone gives me a valid reason to grump and groan and complain... I will do it. Can you provide such a reason? Wyatt remained silent Theres no use highlighting the negativity when everyone has already read it. Theres no use grouching about the aspects of life that cannot be changed. To hold such resentment for your own existence leads to nothing but turmoil. When you make the best of what you have, however... it leads to contentment, at the least. Wyatt snickered, shaking his head I wish I could argue with that. I suppose folk like me complain cause it makes us feel a bit better. Its like when I stub my toe on a table leg, I curse and yell but fact remains Im already hurt. I swear the pain fades faster if I bellow till Im hoarse. Darius chuckled Say though, I thought maybe you were gonna flip out that smile for something more mellow when we were trapped in that bandit fort. I had a plan and ya made a few negative comments. Constructive comments, informative comments. I did not complain. I followed your idea, and Im glad I did. He looked at the fenrye once again, then back at Wyatt I noticed your reluctance to follow Volke... But youve yet to complain about him. Why is that? Like I said, Id rather have followed a fenrye who can fight the ivorn than face the ivorn on my lonesome. This dont change how I feel about them... They nearly killed me, and you. Not to mention Da-....Ergh... Zachery. Well, son... Zacherys voice emanated from behind the two of them. Wyatt and Darius looked over their shoulders to see Zachery walking over I did sign up to fight them. They had every right to kill me. Were at war... after all. ...Why are there fenrye here? Wyatt asked. It was a question he found reasonable, and didnt direct any malice into it The ley is not discriminating. Fenrye leyborn are just the same as human and vermus. On very rare occasions, there will be spirits trapped within The Scarred Lands... Were better off sending fenrye Palecallers there than we are humans that would be killed on sight. But they killed you... Dont you hold any hate for them?... Wyatt asked It would be no different to hating all humans because of the bandits that trapped you. While its true, the majority of fenrye would kill you on sight, they are like that for a reason. They are born into this community, moulded by it, indoctrinated by it. Not only that, but the goddess they serve is not just a pretender, or some.. creation extracted from ancient scriptures... she is real, Wyatt. Youd be amazed how convincing a real life being of genuine divinity can be... Zachery sat between Wyatt and Darius, looking at the pair of them, understandably as a father would look upon his children. Ive watched you both from birth. Ive beheld your growth from children into men... and Ive waited for this very moment... this defining and essential moment...

This is what I exist for... This is what I linger for. Know that whatever the outcome, I will be proud of both of you. Remember what the dreams taught you. Trust in yourself. Dont submit to fear. Let go of your past, for your pain has already shaped you into the men you are. Believe in the impossible, and forget what you know about life and death. He inhaled, a little shakily, turning to Wyatt And in case this is it, and for some reason this is the last time we speak... I love you, son. Wyatt just stared, unable to answer. Zachery nodded a few times, before sighing and standing. Good luck. He said, before walking away. Darius gave Wyatt a hard look. What?... muttered Rook, innocently I told you already, hes not just gonna fill some void. Ya cant just go without someone for twenty four years and then tellem you loveem when they pop out of the blue. Get off my back. He stared over the edge, the drop so sheer and deep that the ground below was bathed in blinding shadow. Well... I suppose you are meant to let go of the past, like he said... Rook chuckled, scooping up a rough stone resting in the snow beside him I dunno if that supports or opposes my point. Me neither... Wyatt leant over the edge, releasing the rock and watching it plummet into the inky darkness below. Darius was already shivering when Rook looked back to him. You know, ya dont have to lose the coat just because Vagrant did. Ya aint got nothin to prove here. Darius glanced over to Vagrant, who was a little beyond a pair of vermus statues. He has the right idea. Hes letting the cold take him... removing the barrier. Vagrant was noticeably not shivering. Wyatt looked him over. His eyes were closed, his body was still and breaths were slow and steady. ...Well maybe hes tough enough for it. I dont reckon you are. Its not about being tough, Wyatt. Its about reaching a state of mind where youre able to just... let go. Rook just about understood. His mind began to stray back to the life he had just one month ago. He thought of the friends hed lost, of the family hed left behind, before harshly snapping himself back to reality. He couldnt dwindle on the past. Several hours passed by. The skies grew ever so slightly dimmer as the sun descended through them. The air temperature remained bearable for now, and the wind made no signs of intensifying. Darius and Wyatt sat in silence, but the ambience was in a state of permanent damage thanks to the nattering of Anya and Lizzy a few metres to their left. Theyd picked a truly extraordinary time to bond, evidently, and were now chatting and laughing along with one another. Elizabeths fur had miraculously changed since last time Rook had looked, and now had a number of bone charms attached to small braids within it. Perhaps this character shared views with the ex-member of The Bloodied Sons. Vagrant remained somewhat vacant. He hadnt moved an inch for some time now. It was frightening to behold; Wyatt found himself anxiously waiting for the telltale cloud of steam to escape from his lips to determine if he was even still alive. Overtime, the two girls voices sounded out less frequently. As the fuel for their conversation seemed to burn out, so did their interest in one another. By the time the sun sank over the horizon, they were both in total silence. A faint rustling from Wyatts right side alerted him, briefly. Vagrant had shaken his body down like a dog, the snow that had accumulated on his armour dropping to the ground around him. He looked to Darius next, who had stopped shivering, amazingly. His chest almost imperceptibly expanded and contracted with each gradual breath. With his dark skin, he was the only one of the group that hadnt turned white with cold. His eyes were closed, understandably. Wyatt had already felt the sting of the chilling wind against them. Rook glanced over his shoulder

next, spying Volke and Saar sat at a pair of adjacent market stalls. Saar caught his eye. She smiled, said something inaudible to Volke, at this range, and hopped from her chair. Rook snapped his gaze back before him, afraid of being told off like he always was at Exposure Training as a child. The glassy chiming of the ivoryon armour closed in on him. Saar sat at Rooks side, staring out over the landscape as twilight crawled through the skies. Darius opened a single eye to investigate briefly, before closing it again. Rook scratched his head, a few colourless flakes dropping from his scruffy brown hair Uh... Sorry... he said, nervously. Youre used to discipline, I imagine, Wyatt? Your father always said you were a tad rebellious. I uh.. Saar laughed quietly Im not going to punish you. Thats not how this process works. She gestured to Vagrant Your friends are able to sustain an inner calm thanks to their upbringing. You however, like Elizabeth, were mentored under a certain rule. She tapped her head You cant switch off. Youre always thinking. Youre always analysing. You cant engage in a normal conversation without taking in every detail of the eyes and the body language. You see more. You hear more. Night leaked into the air, like ink falling into clear water Its a method of defence, of mark identification, of tactical approach... But it can also be your curse. Sometimes, just clearing your head can be exactly what you need... She pointed subtly at Lizzy Sometimes, I think the reason the vermus live shorter lives is because of the unrest their mind experiences. They think all day, and even in their sleep. She tapped Wyatts chest Your psyche can affect your physicality in more ways you can imagine. You need to relax, Wyatt. Dont fight the cold. Dont resent it. Just let it happen. Dont think, just feel. The moment you hear words, see images, block them. All that matters... is this. She placed her gauntleted hand on Wyatts shoulder Ill give you the same advice I give most vermus. I always think the least when my mind is engaged. She pointed to the sky When the first of the stars appear... Count them. Count them all. Dont think. Just count. Just feel. Wyatt nodded, calmly. ...Will you tell Lizzy this too? That wont be necessary. She looked over to Elizabeth. The vermus was sat in silence, her eyes closed. She merely takes on a persona that this problem does not occur to... She stood, her armour ringing Watch the skies . Dont think. Just feel. She bowed her head, before leaving. Wyatt slowly thudded onto his back, lying and attempting relaxation. The snow cushioned him quite nicely. He felt the cold pressing in, creeping along his fingers, down his arms and into his body, but he remained still. He breathed in deeply, focusing on the exhale and nothing else, repeating this process. The first brilliant but miniscule light faded into view within the void above. Wyatt stared at it, admiring it. Within minutes, there were dozens, maybe even hundreds more visible. The temperature dropped very rapidly, and for a moment, Wyatt felt his will cracking. He wanted to move, to huddle into a ball to keep himself warm, but he fought the urge, and instead began to count. Soon, the urge was gone, and he was left alone with the stars, and the stinging on his skin from the algid air. One, two, three, four... He began to count, internally, but mouthing the number with each star. Soon the black was filled with gleaming dots, the amount of which was inconceivably high. It had been so long since Wyatt had just watched the stars. Trapped in their alluring splendour, he almost forgot the freezing sensation that was penetrating his very soul. Fifty five, fifty six, fifty seven, fifty eight...

He internally questioned if hed already counted some of these stars, but hurriedly abandoned the line of thought. It didnt matter. He just had to count. For a moment, he was thrown back into reality, and the burning cold against his skin made him wince. His neck wanted to turn, his eyes wanted to check on the others, but he countered the urge by briefly closing his eyes. Before long, hed once again reached his placid state. He quickly resumed, adding to the total. Time crept by, carrying the stars through the air, and gradually unveiling more and more as each minute ticked by. Eight hundred and eighty eight, Eight hundred and eighty nine, Eight hundred and ninety... The moon rose up over the mountains, its lustrous light spilling onto the plaza, sparkling in the snow. It had been a full cycle since the bloodmoon in Lakebank, and the moon was almost full once again. It had waned slightly, however. The full moon was likely two nights ago. Two nights ago, blood was shed in the name of some particularly persuasive goddess. What if theyd hit Fern this time? What if... No. The moon was just a moon. It didnt symbolise anything. Wyatt pushed the thoughts away. The past couldnt hold him back. Hed come too far now. Two thousand nine hundred and forty three, two thousand nine hundred and forty four... The feeling in Wyatts limbs had vanished. That probably wasnt a good sign, but at least theyd stopped hurting. The moon casually drifted into Wyatts field of vision. He leisurely counted it as a large star and ignored it thereafter. He smiled as his mind started to bring some of the stars together into shapes. He knew some of these constellations. Rather than thinking about them, however, he just enjoyed them. A few shooting stars zipped by, their tails blazing behind them for a split second. Wyatt chuckled as his good fortune, before almost instinctively and automatically adding them to the accumulated total. Seven thousand seven hundred and nineteen, Seven thousand seven hundred and twenty... This wasnt so bad. In fact, it was quite the opposite. It wasnt cold at all. Wyatt felt himself feeling pleasantly warm. Perhaps the stars were heating him up. Or maybe it was the moon. The moon was basically the same thing as the sun anyway, except white. Nine thousand two hundred and forty, nine thousand two hundred and forty one... It was hot now... too hot. Wyatt rolled his eyes, ignoring the sting within them caused by his frozen tear ducts. He straightened up briefly and pulled off his sleeper hide coat. He clearly didnt need it. It was scorching out here. As he removed the cloak, he heard the soft thudding of boots in snow. Vagrant had stood. His body was as white as the snow hed been sat in, and his finger tips were a pale blue. He looked over the plaza, wide-eyed, before walking away. Oh Vagrant, youre so quirky. Wyatt giggled like a child, before thudding back onto his back, recommencing the long tally. Nine thousand nine hundred and ninety nine, ten thousand, ten thousand and one... There sure were a lot of stars in the sky. Some of them were probably closer than others. Some of them were probably close enough to touch... Wyatt raised his hand towards the nights sky, closing his numb, blue fingers around a few of the stars. His vision started to blur a little. He brought his hand back to his eyes and opened it. Strange, there were no stars inside. For a moment, Rook thought he heard something. It sounded like voices; hundreds of them all talking at once... Like the busy streets of a city. The voices faded away again, leaving Rook confused. He managed to empty his mind once again, stargazing the time away. He stopped the count. He didnt need it anymore. He was at peace. He was relaxed. His eyelids felt heavy. Maybe hed have a nap. The voices sounded out again, shouts and calls, so many of them. He pressed his hands to his ears. How was he meant to sleep with all this noise? His

eyelids drooped, regardless. The stars became blurry splodges in a sea of gloom. His breaths felt weak. Sleep now... Sleep now... As Wyatts eyes were about to close, a large furry head appeared over him, blocking his line of sight to the sky. Volke crouched down, pulling Wyatts hands from his ears. He felt warm. Brother... What do you hear?... he said. His voice echoed and rung through Wyatts head. ...Voices... So many... voices... Wyatt replied, weakly. Volke flashed a grin, tightening his grip on Wyatts hands and pulling him unwillingly to his feet. Wyatt wobbled, steadied by the fenryes hand on his chest. A blue light shimmered from between Volkes clawed fingers, and Wyatts illusion of warmth vanished. For the first time in a while, clarity started to hit him. He shivered and quivered violently, everything becoming more lucid, more obvious. The chill that pierced his heart and his bones no longer felt... uncomfortable. He enjoyed it. It felt natural, right. His vision refocused, and his mind brought him back to reality. Volke retracted his hand. He clapped Rook on the shoulder Your cryoley is now active... Welcome to my world... he said, before moving aside. Behind Volke, filling the plaza, were hundreds of people. Their voices were so much clearer now. He could make out snippets of their conversations. Occasionally some of them would vanish, and reappear in other locations. Several dozen of them had formed queues at the market stalls that Saar was currently manning. Welcome to The Pale Market... Woa... Wyatts pupils darted from left to right, taking in every detail. Theyre... all...? Spirits... yes. Wyatt laughed, a short, high pitched laugh, expressing his disbelief. Rook turned, walking over to Darius and kneeling beside him. Darius was still sitting on his coat, eyes closed. Lao, youve got to see this! Rook placed his hand on Dariuss shoulder. The preciph felt cold, colder even than the night. Darius? Lao did not respond. Rooks eyes widened, and he quickly checked Dariuss pulse. Except he couldnt, Dariuss skin was as solid as ice. Wh...What?... He looked up at Volke. ...Is he...?... Volke nodded, sadly looking to the other fenrye statue Darius was knelt beside A memory... Yes... Wyatt quickly turned back towards Darius. A blue crystalline tint was slowly enveloping his body. ...Cant you do anything?... No... No one can... Laos calm face was gradually consumed by the ice. Within thirty seconds, he was just another statue, looking out across The Ivory Reach. Wyatt shivered, not from the cold. He quickly stood up and backed away, peering over to where Anya and Lizzy had been. He felt a twinge of relief when he saw they had vanished. They must have left, like Vagrant did. Come, brother... Volke offered a hand, sympathetically. Wyatt slowly pushed it aside, instead scooping up his fathers old coat and saying Lead on... Volke lead Wyatt into the market. Spirits of all ages and species wandered between the stalls. There were humans, vermus, ley-risen, and even a few fenrye. They all seemed so... happy. They were getting along with one another, with no arguments or contempt held due to racial standings. As the two of them walked, passing spirits would occasionally offer pleasant greetings Welcome, Caller. Tidings. Have a good night, Wyatt! Wyatt waved to them, a little bewildered.

What are they all doing here?... Wyatt asked his fenrye escort. We are Palecallers. They are residents of The Pale. This is practically The Pales capital city... see? But... What do they do here? Volke waved to a group of debating vermus nearby. They waved back, before continuing with their conversation They exist. They live. They do what most ghosts would never be able to do. A group of human women walked by, gossiping cheerily. One of them caught Wyatts eye, and Wyatt winked. She rolled her eyes and giggled as her gaggle moved away. What about the market stalls? The ones they are queuing for? Volke chuckled in his low, rich accented voice Well The Pale has economy, yes?! If theres one thing all spirits have in common... its.. Unfinished business... Wyatt interrupted. Volke nodded with a smirk That it is. Youre saying they... buy it here? In a manner of speaking, this is correct. The Pale has economy, community. The Palecallers must manage this, by prioritising whose business we take on. Many unfinished businesses are endeavours we must travel for, and can take some time to complete. This is where the spirits currency comes in... They have money? Volke shook his head No. They have time. The only thing they truly have is time. We make use of that time. The spirits work for us. They search the world. They provide reconnaissance and they locate other spirits to send here. They also find echoes and omens for us, so we know what to prioritise. He gestured to Saar, who was chatting away to a ghost at her market stall We negotiate the agreement at these stalls, and we organise our living employees to carry out the business while they help us. But of course, The Pale Market also provides a hub of social interaction, and consoling. Wyatt listened to Saar, who was speaking to an old human man of around eighty years We can arrange the message to be delivered directly from you, Mister Josiah. If youd like to tell me it, Ill write it down and have it delivered by hand. Id rather it was... spoken to her. I dont want this to be dismissed as a... pointless trick. Shes a very paranoid woman... Very well. Tell me the message all the same and well have someone vocally deliver it, and argue its realism. Saar spotted Wyatt with Volke, and she stood Excuse me for just a moment. Saar jogged over, smiling broadly. Naturally, Wyatt did not look pleased. Your fathers faith was well placed! Why are you so glum? Wyatt looked towards the cliff edge, where Darius was frozen. Oh... I understand. If its any conciliation, your other three friends made it. Im glad... Thanks... Saar smiled again, before turning to her queue Everyone! Id like you all to welcome our newest member of the family. This is Wyatt Rook, son of Zachery, who most of you have met. Wyatt has just passed The Salience and I think it warrants a round of applause. Saar and Volke began to clap, followed by the rest of the spirits. A few of them whistled and cheered. Wyatt basked in the attention for a moment. Being appreciated was something he was not used to. A smile stealthily snuck onto his face, but faded again quite quickly. Where are the others?... Wyatt asked Sahavra.

Inside. You can enter shortly, but theres someone who wants to say goodbye first... She pointed behind Wyatt. Rook turned to see Zachery standing a few metres away. He looked, to put it lightly, like he was restraining himself from jumping for joy. Volke, come on. Lets leave them to it. As you say, Champion. Saar and Volke returned to the market stall while Wyatt apprehensively approached his father. Zachery wiped his eye, choking a little on his words as he tried to form them Hey, Wyatt... Hey... Wyatt looked around This is... pretty impressive. Mhm hm. So much more to come... You wont believe your eyes. He laughed, a little nervously. Wyatt awkwardly remained silent. So... This is uh... This is it... Im afraid. He raised his arms, before letting them flop to his sides This is the last you see of me... Im... really sorry Darius didnt make it... I thought... Well... I thought his will would save him... Maybe youll see him wherever youre going... Zachery chuckled. He was shaking like a leaf in the wind ...Youre afraid... Zachery nodded, nervously When the fenrye killed me... I knew what would happen... When I pass on... This is... this is death for me... true death... and it scares me... But I can go with a smile, knowing that youve made it, son. Wyatt would not cry. He did not cry, not in front of all these people. Well... Hey... Keep a seat warm for me, right, old man? Heh, well see each other again. Well catch up properly, alright? Zachery snorted, holding a smile clearly with some difficulty I know... Its... difficult, to see me the way I see you. Ive watched you grow, Ive seen you blow out the candles on every farl damn birthday cake your mother ever screwed up, but... Wyatt laughed. Zachery continued. But youve only seen me as that ghost in the corner of your room, shhing you to secrecy... I dont expect you to see me as a father but... To me... Youre the best son I could have hoped for... and... I love you, Wyatt. Wyatt stared, before opening his mouth to respond. Zachery stopped him Dont say it back. People are watching, damn it. Wyatt sniggered, rubbing his eyes for a totally unrelated reason. Zachery smiled, taking a deep breath ...Good bye, son... Wyatt took a look at Zacherys Wolfbane Pact tabard, before performing the soldiers salute Good bye... Dad... With a single blink, Zachery had vanished. The snow gently fell where hed stood, and Wyatt found himself staring into space before uttering ...I love ya too...

Chapter Fifteen Meet the Family

Seventy Four Days Ago Surprise! Well ok, probably not that surprising. I did make it abundantly clear that you would continue to receive these messages following my departure. As you know by now, however, I placed the message into your subconscious months ago. This is just a memory, nothing more. But they are memories that can help you. From this point on, these hints will break away from their linear structure. I placed you on a railroaded path and directed your actions for the last thirty days, but now, I can no longer do that. You may find that the dreams occur in a different order, or at times where you do not even need them, but their triggers remain the same. They will continue to react to stimuli you encounter in your journeys and throughout your training. I couldnt tell what or when these stimuli would occur so I sort of just... covered everything I could think of. Hey, I had a lot of time to do this. There are hundreds of these messages youll probably never hear. I think theres one about feeling too hungry and one for getting your heart broken. Im serious. I just made one for every occasion that a father figure could be handy in. Youve been having these dreams for a while before the first one was triggered; around ten months. I had a lot of information to fit in ten months. Lets talk about the matter at hand for a moment, however, as receiving this message means that youve made it. Youve passed the trial and youre now on your way to becoming a fully fledged Palecaller. There arent words to express how proud I am of you, and I hope I gave you a satisfactory goodbye. Welcome to a life of purpose, Wyatt. With the abilities your mentors will help you hone, you will be unstoppable by most. The wranglers will still be an issue, but for now, within these walls, you are safe. Youll likely be shown around first, but what follows is a sequence of intense training sessions that will teach you control of the ley, the psychology and classes of spirits, the ways to best make use of your ivoryon weapons, and eventually, how to summon your own familiar. I want you to understand what is coming. Youre only human and we fear the unknown. Dont be afraid. These lessons may seem dangerous, but you are in perfectly capable hands. The Salience is a death-trap compared to even the fiercest combat sessions. If you require anything, dont be afraid to ask. Be polite, and show respect. There is very little that is out of the reach of The Palecallers. Try not to be too invasive, there will be moments where youre denied access to certain areas and your questions are shot down. This isnt a personal matter; its a level of trust that has to be attained. Even once within Palthgar be invite, there are some secrets so delicate, so integral to The Callers existence, that they must hide them, for now. In time, you will know it all. I promise. You just have to be patient. Dont breach their trust. Dont lie to them, dont steal from them because they will find out. They always find out. Also, try to enjoy yourself. They may tell you youre not here for fun but I watched everyone here when they were relatively new callers and they laughed and smiled just as much as you do. Oh there is one more thing... Dont uh... Dont formally challenge the fenrye residents. I know youre unhappy with them after they killed your old man but stay your hatred, or at least keep it internal... Dont challenge them... You wouldnt like how that pans out. Well, thats it. Well done, Wyatt. I always knew you had it in you. I hope Darius made it too...

Present Day Wyatt bolted upright in his bed as what sounded like some sort of giant bell started to chime through his bedroom. An unknown male voice called out through the stone halls beyond his door Rise and shine, newbies! Divines know you cant learn jack when youre sleeping! Wyatt rose off his mattress, stretching and clicking a few of his bones. Hed been shown to this fairly large bedroom following Zacherys disappearance. The walls and floor were all grey carved stone slabs with two rings of engraved patterns crossing across the floor, up the wall, across the ceiling and down the opposite wall again. The engravings were protected by reinforced glass, meaning Rook could walk right over them without hurting his feet. There was a window with a pair of blue curtains hanging from a metal rail, a small wooden table with a pair of chairs, and a writers desk with a number of draws, inkpots and writing utensils. The pride of the room was the large four poster bed. It made the accommodation seem almost royal, with its hanging drapes and elaborate clawed feet. The washroom and lavatory facilities were within the corridor outside, and possessed the same running water features Wyatt had encountered in Laos house. There was also a large wardrobe, beside which was a tall grandfather clock, which Rook had already turned off. The tick, tock had made him nervous, and he didnt really know how to read the time on such a device anyway. Hed initially had no idea what the thing was, so hed asked Lizzy, whod laughed in his face. In the corner, on a golden hinged frame was a large oval mirror. Wyatt approached the wardrobe and pulled it open as the strange chiming rang through the halls again, followed by the same mans voice Where the blazes are you?! Dont tell me nearly freezing to death has warranted some sort of special treatment! Rook smirked, pulling out a shirt and a pair of trousers to put on. He glanced at himself in the mirror briefly, frowning at how pale he still looked, before dressing. The morning sunlight was trying desperately to claw its way through the thick curtains before the window, but there was no time to let it in. Once he was fully dressed, and had pulled on a pair of boots, Wyatt pulled open the unnecessarily heavy brass door, and strolled out into the corridor. His confidence twitched a little as he realised everyone else had got there before him, even Anya. He shyly rubbed the back of his head, looking at his fellow initiates and the stranger centred within them. He was holding a small ivoryon bell. Incredible that something so small could make such a loud noise. Sorry... Rook apologised. First he was the last initiate to pass the trial, now he was the last one to get up. He had to reach a middle ground at the least. No problem, rookie. Its your first day. Dont go making a habit of it, though. The new man said, in quite an upstanding and middle-class accent. This fellow had brown hair like Wyatts, except it was a little longer, styled into parting at the back of his head. It had a few grey strands here and there too. He had a finely trimmed beard which covered most of his chin and his upper lip. He was wearing a long, silky white coat without a single hair or crease visible, and a black shirt and leggings beneath it. A fairly long single-handed ivoryon sword was sat within a sheath near his right hip. Like Saar, his eyes seemed older than the rest of him. As he exposed his hands briefly, Wyatt spotted a number of rich, blue veins that travelled through his palms and into his wrists. My name is Edwin. From what Ive been told, Im Palecaller number three, so far. Apparently I have nothing better to be doing so Im going to give you a guided tour. Please keep your hands and feet where I can see them at all times, and enjoy this ride of inexplicable exhilaration. If you have any questions, please save them for when Im not talking, or out of audio range! Any questions?! Lizzy and Anya raised their

hands. No? Good! On we go! He turned three hundred and sixty degrees, before laughing Naaaah Im just messing. Whats up, initiate C? he pointed to Anya ...My names Anya... and why am I C?... Because youre not A, B or D, love. Any other questions? Yes, initiate B! he pointed to Lizzy. Uh... How many Palecallers are there?... Counting you four, nine. Im told youve already meet Sahavra and Volkerkert. Other than those two, theres me, Vulpkreezen, and Lucian. Uhh Vulpe is on market duty with Volke at the moment so we can swing by there and meet her. Lucian is currently either somewhere in Norvask, climbing The Reach, or dead... sooo... Well see him later, hopefully! he looked between them all, cheerily Anything else? No? Excellent. Let us begin! He began to walk off down the brazier-filled corridor. The doors of the other initiates quarters were on the left, while the other facilities, such as washrooms and kitchens were on the right. This is one of the four living quarters. Typically we recruit new Palecallers every thirty years, and that means we can have three generations at once, if the olduns survive for long enough. They didnt this time, sadly. The generation before ours have all snuffed it, one way or another. They were great mentors to us, however, and we intend to be great mentors to you. This is your generations quarters, obviously, but well show you ours and our employees quarters too. How many of them are there?... Edwin clicked his tongue, thinking There are easily around twenty extras. We have a lot of ley-risen flyers that serve as couriers for spirits and the like, but weve also got onsite medics, a mechanic, and a bunch of normal upstanding citizens that handle things like financing and security... Its a big operation. Therere also a number of hand servants and maidens that handle the clean ups and do the cooking and house work. Theyre all paid a handsome amount so no immorality to worry yourselves with. The hallway led into Palthgars large entrance hall. Banners depicting the Palecaller insignia hung from six large pillars that stood around a long red carpet, gilded with gold. More torches burnt away on the walls. It was surprisingly warm within the building thanks to all of the fires; not something Rook expected from a group that relied on the divine energy of the cryoley. The large double doors that led outside must have been the same doors theyd first seen upon walking through the ebonstone gates. This is the entrance hall. Nothing too special here, except the thought that some of Rimes greatest heroes walked through those doors and along this here rug. The carpet led off to the right of the corridor theyd emerged from. Opposite them was another identical corridor. It seemed Palthgar was almost symmetrical. That other hall there is where youll find our living quarters. Were just across the main hall from you, if you ever need us. He pointed to the archway the carpet led on through Come on. This way. The initiates followed as Edwin led them across the hall and further into the keep. They walked down a long corridor which was covered with portraits, all of them seemingly depicting past Palecallers. None of the names meant anything to Wyatt, but he recognised the face of a large statue that stood right in the hallways centre. Grey Koramas, his name confirmed by a large golden plaque, loomed over them all, majestically, a large fray owl* perched on his shoulder. The group stopped before the statue for a moment, and Edwin did a little salute, tapping a pair of fingers to his temple and bringing them down, leaving a trail of light blue energy in their path. *Fray owls were the only remaining species of owl able to survive the changing times on Rime. Due to their rarity, however, they were highly sought after as trophies. Their feathers were also a valuable commodity for comfort. Eventually they became extinct in the wild eighty years ago.

This is Gray Koramas. We kinda love him because he ended the Necroley War. Im sure youve all heard about him. Everyone nodded Hes a sign for two things to us callers... One is our true potential, and what we can do to make a truly life-saving impact... the other is how the wranglers will always be our enemies... and we can never let our guard down. Whats with the bird? Anya asked, tilting her head. The bird is Talazon. He was Grays familiar. A spiritual ally that helped him through his darkest times. He chuckled As much a hero as old Gray himself was, if you ask me. He died with Gray, however. Edwin waved to two flights of stairs that led off to the left and to the right These stairways lead to the two towers you no doubt saw on your way here. Well go to the western tower first and say hi to the couriers. He walked up the left staircase, and the others followed. The stairs led to another, smaller and dimly lit corridor. A few closets and storage rooms were behind some doors spread along its length, but it was otherwise very featureless. The straight, linear hall ended at a larger door, with the words Western Tower written above it in the stone. A series of muffled voices inside alerted the initiates to a pending introduction. Edwin knocked his knuckles against the wood, before turning the knob and pushing the door open. The initiates were greeted by a number of merry squawks as they were funnelled into the room. The base of the tower was a large circular space with around eight perches, frames and other things you might expect to see in a pet shop, such as chewed toys. Against one of the walls was a pair of very large straw beds, both of which were currently empty. The perches however were currently holding around five starls; black feathered carrion birds with ghostly white eyes and a subtle iridescent, multicoloured sheen. One of them had a rope toy in its beak, which it insecurely dropped as it spotted strangers coming into the room. It shuffled over to a book that was propped open on its climbing frame and started to read. Morning, Edwin! one of them called out. His accent was a little raspy but his voice held a level of civility and class. On guide duty, eh? Aww look at them! a female starl tilted her head, rapidly, several times in quick succession Have they eaten? They look hungry. Edwin, why havent you fed them!? The one reading the book slowly turned a page with his wing Do you have work for us? Some of us are very busy, Caller. Edwin folded his arms, glancing up at the starl with his beak buried in the pages Since when did you know how to read, Rogue? The starl blinked, looking down at Edwin ...I can read... Youre trying to look smart for the rookies so they choose you. Rogues shimmering eyes darted back and forth ....No Im not. He shut the book Shut up. Edwin snorted, pointing to the starls in turn Weve got four ley-risen starls. The two females are Rhea and Ash. Ash is currently on a mission, I believe. He gestured to the head-tilting starl. Thats Rhea. We usually use her when were dealing with the unfinished business of children or mothers. Shes good at that stuff. Rhea fluffed up her feathers, beaming. Edwin then pointed to the two males that had spoken The one with the book is Rogue. If you need to get behind enemy lines or sneak a message into Wolfbane Pact ranks, hes your guy. Rogue bowed his head. The old one there is Ink. He can handle anything you throw at him. Lizzy quietly gasped, pressing a tiny hand to her mouth. Ink stared down at her, raising and lowering his eyebrows, teasingly. Edwin chuckled at Lizzys reaction And yes, he is THAT Ink the starl. The worlds first ley-risen, assumed dead by the ones who raised him after he escaped captivity. Captivity?... Anya grunted. Ink looked down at her

Perhaps you dont know much of the ley-risen. We were created by the kingdom as a manual labour force to combat Sovreignouss under population issues. Those of us raised were, in every sense of the word, property of the Watchful Council, and the king. Slaves is a better word for it. I was the first to be raised, and I was the first to escape. And now he does manual labour for us! Edwin exclaimed. Ink chuckled Im happy here. Im paid. Im respected. Im free. Edwin gave a thumbs up, before pointing to the final starl, who was snoozing away, peacefully Every other starl you find here is not ley-risen. They are just your standard bog-average starls. Theyll fly where you need them to if its just a message you want delivered or a package collected. The rest of them are upstairs or on duty. He pointed to a winding set of stairs that curved up the tower wall in a spiral. If you ever need to use our starls, carry them up to the top of the tower and release them from there. Ink and the others will drop you a few pointers if you dont know what youre doing. What about those?... Wyatt asked, pointing to the straw beds hed noticed earlier. Edwin glanced to them Those belong to the towers larger residents. Its great weve got another vermus Caller. Rhea called out, side stepping casually onto an adjacent perch Blake was starting to feel a little neglected. Lizzy glanced to Rhea ...Are they wyte? Rhea nodded, while Wyatt blinked and turned Uh, what? Not Wyatt, wyte! Lizzy rolled her eyes at Wyatts blank expression Big mammalian flyers. Long ears, blind, furry... they were used as mounts for the vermus during the Necroley War. Wyatt just stared. Urgh, never mind. Theyll be back soon if you want to wait and see for yourself... Rogue said Sonya and Blake hate the daylight. The starls all laughed before pulling ridiculous expressions and saying simultaneously in silly voices WE ARE THE NIGHT! Edwin chuckled along with them. Yeah, thats them, alright. Im sure the newbies can meetem at some other point. Ill take them to see Alistair next. Feed them first! Rhea called after them as Edwin ushered the group from the room and closed the door behind them. Edwin escorted them in a straight line, down the steps to the western tower and up the steps to the eastern one. The structure was very similar; a fairly boring stone hall with a few spaces for storage dotted either side with another large door at the end. The words Eastern Tower were written above this door, and it was so far the only notable difference between the two. Once again, Edwin knocked, but instead of going straight in, this time he waited. Some shafts of fiery light slinked out through the cracks between the doors hinges, accompanied with the hissing of some sort of device. Edwin knocked again, much louder this time. The sounds stopped, and the light faded. Edwin briefly checked on his underlings, smiling at their bemused demeanours. The door shuddered, and a series of rickety clicks and clanks vibrated through its reinforced form. It swung back, rather suddenly, stopped by a golden chain. A dark brown eye peered out, catching sight of Edwin and his party. Hey Alistair. Mind if I show the rookies the workshop? The gloomy eye narrowed. New people... Sure. Permit me a moment to fetch something... The door slammed shut. Edwin called after him

Fetch what?! The door clicked open again, still restrained by the chain ....Rifle... it swung shut again. What for!? Edwin desperately and nervously asked. Again the door opened, revealing the mans gaze. The man gave a very patronising and disappointed look ...To shoot people... It closed, and the sounds of boots on a stone floor reverberated down the hallway. Edwin timidly eyed his four followers Hes just kidding... he said, as Lizzy and Wyatt deftly edged behind Vagrant and Anya. Hes a little paranoid, is all. Absolute genius though, I can tell you that. The door rattled on its hinges as the final chain was released, and it opened inwards. Standing before them all, a rifle in his hands, was a middle aged, balding man, wearing a pair of brass-framed goggles on his furrowed forehead. He was also wearing a long coat, a bland grey in colour. A belt bound it near the hips, but it parted towards the top and bottom. He wore some gauntlets with cogs and gears whirring away within. Perhaps the most noticeable feature was the prosthetic left leg, which was bound over his leggings with a number of leather straps. The few wisps of hair the man had remaining were a faded brown in colour. His slightly haunted brown eyes scanned the newcomers over. He eventually swung the rifle onto his shoulder and beckoned Come. He turned and limped away. Wyatt, Edwin and the others all tentatively stepped through the threshold, looking around in wonder. The room was the same shape as the aviary ; rounded with a spiral staircase climbing the inner wall. Its contents however were totally different. Stacked upon work benches, resting against furnaces and crackling away within forges were some of the most curious looking devices and contraptions any of them had ever seen. From the ceiling, suspended with thick chains, was a bird skull big enough to almost hide the ceiling itself from view. It was enormous. Based on this alone, it was likely a krondor skull. It was swelteringly hot in the workshop, thanks to the forge against one of the walls, rippling waves of heat distortion hovering above it the blazing coals within. There was no chimney for the smoke to escape through, so it just floated up the spiral stairs into the space above. One particularly eye-catching thing was a rather conspicuous object near the stairs that had been shrouded by a long garb. The mechanic moved over to one of his work benches where hed previously been working. A device was lying open upon it, a missing panel leaving a bunch of metallic rods and tubes exposed. Some of the devices casing was glowing with a red hot hue. He leant the rifle against the bench nearby, keeping it within reach. He eventually revolved around, spreading his arms in a half-hearted welcome. This is the eastern tower. My name is Alistair Vaughan. I build things for the cause. He then waved to the door Now Im sure you have a busy day... so... he flicked his fingers towards the hallway ...Shoo.... Edwin snorted, prancing over to one of the many contraptions scattered around the room and scooping it up. Alistair builds tools and weapons for us. He also handles most of the plumbing and weapon forging. Some of those ivoryon blades you wield were created by this man. Edwin turned on Wyatt Not yours though, initiate D. I believe you were given Zacherys old daggers and pistol. They were crafted by the generation before ours. This fellows mentor: A man named Tygon, Nox rest his soul. He clipped the device hed found onto his wrist, where it whirred Alistair here joined with some outsider knowledge however, and with him, weve been able to advance further in the field of technology than most of public civilisation. He turned a few dials on the device, holding it before him and aiming it at a charred target dummy You see Alistair has knowledge that was privatised and controlled by the kingdom... Initiate C, go pull off that veil over there. Alistair sighed at Edwin

Do we really have to do this?... Edwin lowered the device temporarily to look over his shoulder. He smirked You want them to find out by themselves? Alistair remained silent. He gave a nod to Anya, who trotted on over to the shrouded object and tugged the cloth away from it. Underneath was a damaged, but not totally spoiled outfit. It was very distinctive; a long brown coat, a large collar and a wide-brimmed hat. ...Youre a wrangler... Vagrant said, calmly. I was, once. Alistair replied, regretfully. Only ex-wrangler in the world, I think. They always train wranglers up from the ages of four or five... so they dont know what the world is like without their duty. To leave service is considered treason, punishable by life in Lockdown. Wranglers dont quit... except for me. Why did you quit? Wyatt asked, distrustfully. I was persuaded... by a great man... After Volke cut off my leg... He looked at Edwin Have they met him yet? Edwin shook his head Not yet. Wont do for some time. He looked at the initiates, surveying their reactions to this news I heard a few of you had some nasty close calls with the wranglers on your way here. Rest assured, Alistair is one of us. Hes been with us for nearly thirty years, and there have been plenty of solid opportunities to betray us which he didnt take. Thank you, Edwin. Serving The Palecallers has given my life meaning... a meaning that doesnt involve stealing children from their mothers and shooting innocent people for conditions they cannot control... You are right to distrust me, however. Ive done terrible things, and I will not expect full redemption in any form... But I will do my duty nonetheless. He looked between the initiates, as their gazes softened. As if something had clicked in his mind, he suddenly strolled over to Edwin I take pride in my new line of work. Volke was deployed only yesterday with the very device Edwin is now wearing backwards. Edwin froze, twitching. The warder is a flame spouting device used to repel ivorn. They hate fire, as you no doubt saw. He plucked the device from Edwins wrist, flipped it around and tied it back in place Thanks... Youre welcome. The device uses a flammable gas extracted from deep beneath the earth, a naturally occurring substance the world has yet to embrace. He aimed Edwins hand like he was some sort of store mannequin. When turned on, similarly to a flintlock firearm, a flint-based mechanical asset ignites a small separate stream of the flammable substance. He turned a dial and pulled a small switch, a tiny flame appearing and sustaining. Upon pulling the firing trigger that reaches between your fingers, you propel gas through a series of canisters within to prevent the main source from exploding, and a torrent of flame is released. The warder projected a stream of flame towards the target dummy, which set alight. Edwin cackled manically, before the device was shut off and taken away from him. He almost looked ready to throw a tantrum, but he remained authoritative. We had a few issues with all of the gas detonating at once and the device exploding but that hasnt happened for a few days now. When youre all drawing closer to deployment, well talk about the gliders you saw as well, but for now, this concludes my demonstration. Please knock if you require me, but for now, leave me in peace. Lizzy raised a hand. Alistair pulled his goggles down over his eyes, before harshly saying What? Whats with the big bird head? Shes called Betty. Well... Ok, but

I dont understand how this could have possibly confused you. Alistair interrupted Perhaps you should leave and take time to reflect on my answer. Lizzy slowly lowered her hand. Edwin raised a palm towards the flaming dummy, a blast of faded blue energy temporarily covering it. The flames extinguished instantly with a satisfying hiss. Cmon, boys and girls. Lets go visit the guys who will save your lives more times than you can count. Thanks Alistair. Alistair had already returned to his work, a second smaller flame-producing device now in his grasp. Edwin guided the four initiates out while they all gazed at the sparks produced from Alistairs welding device. The door swung shut with a bang and a click as it automatically locked itself. Forgive the man for being a little paranoid. Hes always been afraid the wranglers will find him. No one wants to go to Lockdown. The group moved back down the corridor and into the large hall. This time they moved past the statue of Koramas and went further north into the keep. They passed a few servants on their way some of which were cleaning, some of which were carrying supplies to other parts of the keep. The portraits of previous Palecallers and employees of interest went on for some time, until eventually they were looking at the images of Edwin, Volke, Saar, and a few others they hadnt met yet. The paintings changed in style and quality as time went on, clearly as the previous artists died and someone new took their place. The most recent commissions were not of fantastic quality, but they captured an accurate enough likeness. Edwin casually pointed to his own image as they walked without even looking at it They got my chin all wrong in that. I hate it. Wyatt glanced over the other paintings of this generation. There were seven, in all, three of which were fenrye. One of them was Volke. The other was a female fenrye, who must have been Vulpe. The final ones name tag stated he was called Vakna another male. How many of there were you, to start off with? Wyatt asked. Seven. Usually its six but with the fenrye triplets, we got up to seven. Vakna didnt make through The Salience. Wyatt thought back to the fenrye statue that Volke had looked to on more than one occasion. But therere only five of you... he said after a short moment of contemplation We lost Oswald a few years ago. He never made it back from a mission. We think an omen got him. He glanced at the four of them There were more of us. Its true. With us, they split us into two groups when they trained us, but we decided wed put you all together since theres only four of you. Wed originally planned for Darius and Gabrielle to... Dont say her name... Vagrant cut in, coldly. Edwin fell silent, still walking. The conversation died at that point, and the others didnt say another word for the duration of the walk. The large hallway opened out into a sort of internal cloister, complete with dozens of small archways and a square dominated by a large silver water fountain. The fountain featured a number of metal warriors standing ready for battle. They were stood around a pillar which was projecting the water into the air. The most fascinating thing about the fountain, however, was that the water was frozen, which was odd considering the fairly high ambient temperature. The ice was splayed into a sprayed shape, with the edges drooping. The fountain had clearly been operational until it had been flash frozen. Dripping streams had solidified into thick icicles, all of which were beautifully clear and pure. The light from torches nearby was split by the ices prismatic properties, leaving a plethora of colours dappling the room. Behind the fountain, against a large wall and between two more, larger staircases, was a colossal golden door. The door was unnecessary garish and elaborate, with a polished sheen and a strange scaled pattern across the two central panels. The door had a single

tantalising keyhole. There was something very inviting about the door, and it clawed at Wyatts curiosity. Are we going in there?... he pointed. Edwin shook his head Nope! Youre not allowed in there yet. Why not? Because youre not ready. That room will be open to you once were sure youre truly one of us. The cloister split off into three directions, not including the one theyd just come from, sort of like a crossroads. Right. We have two learning spaces, or training rooms. To the left and right here are training rooms one and two. Youll be seeing a lot of them in your time here. If youre looking for one of us, and were not in our rooms, out in Rime or on market duty, well probably be in one of the training rooms. We never stop developing. He pointed left Left is our combat room, but theres a space in there where a bunch of chairs and tables are set up for when Lucian wants to hit you with some of the history and lore. Theres a group of target dummies and straw targets, but also a ring to train with one another... Dont worry about the blood on the floor, if there is any. Volke and Vulpe havent completed their day until theyve damn near murdered one another... he then indicated to the right The room down that hall is exclusively used for ley-based practice. We keep the two separated. You dont want the sounds of combat and intense physical training distracting you when you try to focus. Theres also a door that leads directly to the market. You came through it last night so youve already seen that room. Not a lot to it, just a few dummies and such and some pieces of running water scenery; it helps relax the mind. He clapped his hands together, a few blue shards dropping from his fingers Right! No need to go there right now. Lets go upstairs. Edwin strolled away, moving to one of the two ascending staircases (they both led to the same place) and beginning to climb. The others followed, leaving Wyatt behind, gazing longingly at the large golden door. His wobbly, distorted reflection stared back at him. Initiate D! HEEL! Wyatt snapped out of his trance, jogging after the others. At the top of the stairs was a fat and reasonably short corridor with a dozen rooms on each side. Another hall cut through it, forming a cross. Similarly to the towers, a single, more important room was right at the end of the current hall, currently hidden behind a door. The door had a painted green coat, and a plaque that read Recovery room. Why is the medical room at the top of fifty stairs... Lizzy asked, an eyebrow raised Surely thats impractical... Edwin tilted his head a few times Meeeh... Youd think so but the people who require most of the genuine medical help are the servants. These doors and the other two corridors here are the living quarters for most of the nonPalecaller residents. If one of us needs to be carried up here then our doctors are perfectly capable of doing that. He quickly gestured to the ends of the two further corridors as they passed them Most of these are bedrooms for servants, but at the end of that corridor is the library. Theres a lot of fiction and such in there but also pages and pages of ancient lore and knowledge unknown to most of civilisation... Opposite that, at the end of this corridor is the leisure room. Theres a few musical instruments and a bar in there, along with a place to sit and relax. There are a few game tables too. Edwin led them to the emerald green door Anyway! Lets meet the doctors! Although I hear some of you have already... he knocked on the door. There was a slight pause before a female voice called out Come in! Edwin pushed open the door, revealing a brightly lit sterile room with a number of beds, an operation table and general medical appliances scattered here and there. Rather than

exposed flames, the room made use of lanterns. Sat at a pair of desks, on a pair of swivelling chairs, were two humans; one male and one female. The pair of them were both wearing similar white coats over standard attire. The man had short ginger hair and quite a gangly build. His eyes were a dull hazel and his face had few quite sharp features, including a slightly pointed noise and chin. The woman had black hair like vagrants, tied up into a number of untidy ponytails. She looked a little tired, with bags under her brown eyes and a slightly colourless complexion. Despite her state, she smiled at the initiates as they trickled in through the door. The smile made Wyatt shiver happily, and even Vagrant seemed somehow pleased by her presence. The male doctor jumped to his feet and came to greet them, offering a handshake to each of the newcomers in turn. Anya and Lizzy seemed instantly enchanted by this man, gazing at him with wide and enthralled eyes. It took Wyatt a few minutes to remember what Maya had told him back in Fern about the affect bioborn have on the opposite sex. He instantly began to consciously avoid eye contact with the female. Welcome! Welcome! We were informed youd visit us this fine morning! The room had a slightly damp and unpleasant scent about it. The suns light was pouring in through a glass window with crisscrossing diamond-shaped patterns painted upon it, leaving the rather eccentric shadows lying on the cold floor. Im Doctor Preston. This is Doctor Latter. He gestured to the woman, who waved Hello there. Edwin gave a few snips of information as Preston reached Wyatt and vigorously shook his hand The docs here are bioborn healers. They can cure most ailments in but a second. Theyre also our resident shape shifters, and weve been known to deploy them on occasion to do a few jobs in the world, kinda like Ink and the others. Wyatt watched Prestons hand as it bizarrely morphed into a crustaceous claw that was all too familiar. ...Youre the abyssei who saved me... he said, in awe. Hed heard of the shape shifting potential of some bioborn but had always thought it to be a myth. Preston grinned The others said you were a sharp one. I understand they knew your father. Youre lucky I was in the area, Wyatt. I was about to leave before the hunters showed up and I felt the need to act. I shot Darius. You could have helped him then, surely?... Preston clicked his fingers An observation made in ignorance which I shall abolish. You see, ivoryon is more than just a metal that sings. Ivoryon acts as a trigger mechanism for the subconscious within leyborn. In short, it forces a ley cast. Anything below brain destroying or severing attack with an ivoryon weapon will trigger your abilities to protect you. Its why all Palecallers train with ivoryon. You dont need to hold back, and the doctors dont need to worry. He smiled. Doctor Latter then stood Our facilities are always open to you, Callers. Were versed in most forms of medical care, including psychological. Youll sometimes find that no amount of ley can fix what youre thinking. If theres ever anything thats bothering you... If youre home sick or worried, or scared or lonely... Come and talk to us. Our problems are yours, ok? Wyatt and Vagrant nodded, silently, helplessly. Edwin snorted at the four of them Cant you turn the pheromones off? No. Its a little annoying sometimes. Preston answered Youll get used to it, you lot. Your immune system eventually learns to push it away. Lizzy stared, her beady eyes filled with desire Stupid immune system... she said, in a slightly hypnotised voice. She then shook her head, as if awaking from a daze, turned and walked out of the room. Preston sighed, shrugging and glancing to Edwin

See?... Annoying. Go on, head on out of here. With any luck, we wont have to be seeing too much of you guys. Enjoy your time here! Latter added Its a truly unique opportunity. Heh. Thanks docs. Edwin set about herding the remaining three (and somewhat resisting) initiates out of the room. The moment the door was closed, they all snapped to their senses. Lizzy was waiting for them, her arms folded Where next? she said, with more dominion than Edwin had held throughout the entirety of the tour so far. A distant boom caught the groups attention. They all turned and stared down the hall towards the stairs. The noise had come from the entrance hall. Ahh! Lucians back. Those were the gates closing. Tell you what, well go meet him, then well go and see Vulpe, and then were done. Youll have the day to yourselves then to get used to environment and maybe get to know some of your new associates... And the training begins tomorrow. Saar and Lucian are taking your first lesson in the combat chamber. They tailed Edwin as he reached the staircase. He casually jumped onto the banister and slid all the way down on his feet, hopping and landing gracefully on the ground floor. Lizzy looked eager to try it, but she decided against it at the last moment. Emerging into the cloister from the portrait-filled hall was an old grey vermus with short, styled whiskers, completely black eyes and a slightly moth eaten aura. His ears and tail were a little frayed, and the fur on his chin was thicker than the fur on the rest of his face. It hung down in a slight point, effectively acting as a beard. Like Vince used to have, the vermus had a rapier-style blade in a sheath with a golden guard and pommel. His coat was the kind of thing youd expect to see on a homeless tramp. It was brown in colour with sewn on patches and stuffed pockets. The new vermus bowed as Edwin approached. The two of them began to talk as the others descended the stairs The ivorn give you much trouble? Nothing I cannot cope with... the vermuss voice was somehow even more stately than any Wyatt had previously heard. It was a strong, deep and confident voice, the kind of voice that you enjoyed listening to. They were mostly scattered by Volkes wild efforts yesterday afternoon. Their fear reminds me of a time I was in Tideguard, Everlast Woods. I was serving as a soldier and we were routing a skitaxie invasion. It was a perilous endeavour and many lives were lost but the eventual cessation saw an ultimate and unwelcome hunger for their gluttonous kind. Edwin just stared, before nodding slowly Ok... he turned to the initiates as they reached the foot of the stairs Hey! Meet Lucian. Hes a Palecaller too. Hes also our resident loremaster. Knows his stuff, this one. Wyatt smiled. He always enjoyed the company of vermus, even with their long words. He took a step forward, bending over slightly and offering his hand in greeting Hey. Im-... Wyatt Rook. Aged twenty four, but to be twenty five within the second month of Thaw. You grew up in the town of Fern under the watchful gaze of his deceased parental guardian. Infamy gained through countless acts of thievery, deception and a single act of, what the country considers to be, high treason... the group all looked at Wyatt, who straightened up and rubbed his head I didnt know she was the princess... and she came on to ME! Youre lucky the king didnt find out you defiled his daughter. No one found out! How the farl did you?... Lucian just smiled

I am the loremaster. I know everything. Anya snorted Arrogant. How many teeth do I have then?! Thirty. You lost two during an attempt to resist a-... Anya very quickly and slightly suspiciously stopped him Ok! OK! Fine... She started to look a little upset, her eyes carrying a haunted but angry gleam. Lucian seemed to understand. He performed a second bow My apologies, Miss Hrongmar. Edwin decided to change the subject, jumping into the conversation once again So, did you handle that venger? Any problems? Lucian rolled his little shoulders. They clicked softly due to his age He threw a lamp at me. It was quite interesting actually, the way the source of light soared through the air. It made some very interesting shadows on the walls and floor. It took me back to when I was a forge hand in Sanctus slums. There was so little vibrancy and beauty in the industrial district, but the way the flames leapt from the forge gave the space more life. Every time the smith hit the steel he was working with, it would unleash this dazzling display of embers, like stars in the night sky. That reminds of when I was an astrologist in Glascan. The skies are much clearer there, you see, due to the-.... He looked around. The others had walked off. Hed been so lost in his story that hed failed to notice them leave. He sighed, proceeding to the stairs. Edwin led the group down the corridor to the ley training chamber. That might have seemed a little mean, but the last thing you lot want to be doing right now is being caught in one of Lucians endless loops. One anecdote leads to another memory that steers into another anecdote, and so on. He seems nice enough... Wyatt said, guiltily. Oh hes nice. Hes one of the nicest fellows I know. When youre not with me, by all means spend a few hours listening to his lies. Lizzy and Wyatt both blinked I didnt think he was lying... No, me neither. Edwin just snorted as he walked, looking over his shoulder Trust me, in time, you will think it. To me alone hes named over forty occupations, and the mans about forty five years old. Thirty of those years hes spent with us. You do the maths. How come he looks old but you lot dont? Anya asked How old are you? Me? Edwin said Im fifty five this year. Something to do with the ley within us slows the physical diminishing of aging. Well look and feel young our whole lives, so long as we keep adhering to our training and needs. Our minds however arent affected. They age as normal. We dont live longer lives like the bioborn do. Ill look this sharp the day I die of old age in thirty to forty years... or unless an omen gets me first. Heh. Lucian looks old because he doesnt engage in the same training regime as us. Saar will teach you all about it tomorrow. They reached the chamber door and Edwin pushed it open. He led them through a large square, empty room with a few scattered, frozen target dummies and a number of peaceful water features against the walls. The white noise provided by the steady trickling was indeed quite soothing. Edwin led the initiates straight through the chamber to another door opposite the first one. It was the same door theyd used last night to gain access to Palthgars interior. It led to the market. Theres two ways you can train with us here. Most of us go for the standard option. Lucian chose a tamer path. Hes more of a librarian than a warrior, but hes more than a match for a fully developed omen. If Lucian is the prime example of what you look like with his style of training, then Vulpe is a prime but extreme example of what youll look like if you overuse our style... He placed his hand on

the door, glancing to each of the four in turn No discrimination. Vulpe is friendly enough, and Volke will tolerate your insults... but if you insult his sister, youll have him to answer for... Ok? They nodded, Anya reluctantly so. Good. He pushed open the door. A flurry of snowflakes breached the inner walls, floating gracefully into the chamber before melting in the warm air. The sounds of the market were suddenly within earshot. Edwin walked out, calling behind him Last one out, close the door behind you! We dont want the heat getting out. As it so happened, Wyatt was the last out, and he obediently pulled the door to. Many spirits roamed the market, possibly even more than last night. There were plenty of activities to witness. One spirit was standing on a small box that had been left out, ranting and chatting to a bunch of laughing onlookers. Many others were just stood in groups or sat against walls, talking amongst themselves. A few street performers were even doing a dance routine, with a small audience clapping along to grant rhythm. Two queues were formed at a pair of stalls. Volke was manning one of them, and was currently discussing business with a young human woman. Standing at the other stall must have been Vulpe. She looked very different to the portrait Rook had seen earlier. Vulpes fur was a bright, chalky white. Her eyes were totally achromatic and glowing softly, tiny plumes of silver smoke perpetually emitting from where the pupils should have been. It was fortunate she was wearing dark clothes, or in the snow shed be almost impossible to see. Her figure was lean and athletic, and her fangs were slightly transparent, like icicles. Like Volke, she had a mane of fur in addition to her primary coat that travelled from her head and down her spine. Her tail seemed to be generating its own snowflakes as she swayed it from side to side. Her pointed ears, muzzle and claws were all undamaged and bestial. On her back was a large ivoryon halberd. It was easily as long as Wyatt was tall. Vulpe seemed a little bored, leaning forward and propping her head up by her elbow as she listened to the pleas of a middle-aged male spirit. He said he would kill my family! Please! You have to protect them. Vulpe nodded, straightening up. She spoke in a softer accent than Volkes, and her handle on the Sovreignous language; Civil, was considerably better than her brothers. Youll have to provide me with an address. The man nodded, flashing a smile Yes! Of course! My family lives in Norvask, a small farmhouse four hundred paces east of Jorvune. Vulpe wrote this down Good... And this man; Gerard Fenly... where does he live? The spirit blinked Why do you want to know where he lives?... Vulpe tapped the large pole arm on her back You think this is a chew toy? I want to hack him into tiny pieces. But... hes powerful... He has friends in the towns guards. He can... Give me an address... Worry about your loved ones... not me, keykran... The man just stared before nodding profusely Of course. Its hard to miss, as he lives in the largest house in Jorvune: A large mansion called Fenly Estate. You can see it from almost anywhere in the town itself... Vulpe grinned slightly wickedly as she wrote down the details. Edwin and the others approached in this pause, and Vulpe straightened up to see him. Zeyak, Eddie. Want to take over? I can do if youre going after Fenly. I just wanted to introduce you to the newbies. Vulpe leant to the side, looking past Eddie at the small bunch of initiates. No children of Eonfeygorl?...

No fenrye, no, not this generation. He shrugged, innocently Guess youre stuck with me then. Vulpes eyes settled on Edwin again I can live with that. She pushed by Edwin who stumbled, smirking stupidly. She stood before the initiates, eyeing them over, one by one. A few icy flakes dropped from her eyelids every time she blinked. Welcome to Palthgar. She eventually said. Itll be nice to have some new blood to spill in the ring. She rubbed her clawed hands together. It was hard to tell how sincere she was being with her eyes being so unreadable. Come to me any time if youre up for a fight. It would be my honour. She looked at Anya and Vagrant in particular, sizing them up Hrm... Soon. I hope. I must fly. Bad people to maim... She turned to Edwin Take the stall? Edwin gave a salute Any time. Have fun, tremnah. She smiled and flicked her tail before padding away, leaving no prints in the snow. Well, thats it for todays tour. Youre welcome to stick around and watch how we do things but Ive been told not to let you perform market duty until Saar has trained you personally. Please remain on this side of the ebon gates. Theres ivorn out there thatll happily chow you down, or whatever it is they do. Youre probably all hungry so go and eat if you need to. Youre allowed to send messages with our starls but for crying out loud, dont send them to people from your past. Dont contact your family or friends, because the wranglers will use any lead they can. Oh, uhh... Do any of you have any questions? All four initiates raised their hands ...Any questions not related to why Vulpe looks like an ice monster.. They all lowered their hands except for Lizzy ...Or questions regarding whether or not I have a thing with Vulpe. Lizzy lowered her hand, muttering. Heh, theyll explain it tomorrow... the ice monster thing... not the....Yeah... so... he quickly shimmied over to the stall Class dismissed! The initiates looked to each other before moving away, their conversation fading into the distance. Will my family be safe?... the man still standing at the stalls receiving end asked. Edwin blinked Oh. Youre still here. Mhm, Vulpe is going to sort that out. The fenrye is going to walk into a human populated town and stop its most powerful inhabitant?... Edwin rubbed his nose, before nodding a few times Uhhh... yes. Anything else?... ......Do you and her have a thing?... Oh for crying out-... NEXT!

Chapter Sixteen Lore

Ninety Nights Ago I remember the first time you attended Exposure Training. I believe you were six or seven years old. Your mother walked you to Sanctus every day from Fern, be it rain or shine. Youd never been to the city before, and you were nervous. You initially positioned yourself firmly at the back of the class and made yourself as inconspicuous as possible. You never raised your hand or asked questions... but on the rare occasion where the teacher would try to get you involved in the learning process, you would provide perfect answers backed with flawless logic. Youve always been a survivor, Wyatt... be it not a very attentive one at times. You did respond correctly, but once youd become a more comfortable and social individual, your behaviour became more and more rebellious. This wasnt higher education. This wasnt maths or Civil, or history or geography, this was survival school... and you already had a pair of fine mentors for that. You became argumentative, correcting the teachers with your own biased views. Not long after you began to lose interest in the subject altogether, so sure of yourself that you already knew everything you needed to. You made jokes, you teased your fellow classmates, and generally disrupted everyones learning. I recall it was around this time where you started to develop a fascination with the life of crime. There was a particular criminal that caught your interest; a cowl wearing vermus who frequently appeared on wanted posters scattered throughout the city... A master thief and vigilante the citizens came to know as The Owl. Heh, I remember when in your frustration at the teachers apparent ignorance, you accused her of wrong-doing, and stated The Owl would come for her. You ran when she came at you with the cane. Your mother was worried at your sudden change in mood and behaviour. I caught her one night praying to the divines that you werent leyborn... She was afraid theyd take you away. On days where your behaviour was so intolerable, youd simply be sent home. A child not even ten years old walking the streets of Sanctus and the roads of Everlast alone. On one such occasion, you were but a stones throw from home when a highwayman grabbed you, do you remember? He intended to ransom you, I believe, to sell you to your own family. He was willing to do anything to get a little extra cash before Glacenox rolled in. He worked for a group of criminals; a small gang that made their earnings from the blood, sweat and tears of rival criminals and lowlifes. The bandit dragged you back to his gangs den and was met with all sorts of hostility. They said hed gone too far, that the guards would surely hang them for a crime as heinous as kidnapping. They squabbled and argued while I watched, helplessly, your captor holding onto your hand... Thats when he came in...Your hero.... The master thief whos image had been printed and distributed to every one of Sanctuss districts. The Owl was outraged at this immorality. He demanded his underling release you, and he personally escorted you home. You had so many questions... You were so eager to learn. It wasnt the schooling that bothered you, it was the subject. Youd found a passion... be it a despicable and lowly one. It only took you a week to yield to your urges and return to the den. You asked The Owl if he would teach you his ways, and he agreed. He removed his mask, and told you his name: Vincent. Show that same passion and resolve in your training here, Wyatt. You cannot afford to only give fifty percent. This is your purpose, your calling, your potential. This is your fate.

Present Day The following morning, as promised, the initiates were once again woken by the ivoryon bell as the light was dawning. They had time freshen up in the washroom facilities and eat a breakfast the keeps servants had prepared for them (a plate of fried bread and skullok eggs). Theyd been told to assemble in the combat training room the moment, to quote; The big arrow points at the twelve and the little arrow points at the eight. Naturally Wyatt assumed this to be a joke at his expense after his confusion over the clock in his room. The initiates ate at the large majestic table with very little conversation. Vagrant in particular remained silent. With the good nights sleep, everyone looked a little more healthy and relaxed. Anya still looked a little uncomfortable in this sanctity of miscreants, but shed not attacked Lizzy since the night in the cave, either physically or verbally. Perhaps her hate towards the fenrye Palecallers was great enough to overpower her hate for the vermus. Lizzy looked quite different today. Her throwing knives were gone, replaced with a pair of ivoryon wrist mounted claws. She must have been busy yesterday, as they were definitely new. Shed replaced her torn dress with some stout and simple leather armour, brown in colour. The fur on her head was a little floppy today, acting as a fringe and falling in front of her eyes. Even the personality conveyed through her body language was different; shed exchanged the slightly upperclass, snobby posture for something a little more poised and tense. She was almost unrecognisable. Wyatt glanced to the clock. The big hand was getting very close to twelve. Wyatt pushed his empty plate away and hopped down from his chair. He checked the daggers in their sheaths and the pistol in its holster. He was slightly nervous of the prospect of facing off against some of Rimes greatest warriors, but his father had told him to be enthusiastic. Itd be indecent to oppose a dead mans wish. As Wyatt left, the others followed his cue. The chimes of their weapons hung over them as they proceeded without conversing all the way down the quarter hall. They moved past the forts doors, beyond the two towers and through the frozen fountain cloister. Once again, the slightly ostentatious golden portal caught Wyatts eye. It slowly slithered from view as they wandered down the corridor to the west. They passed several storage rooms, some of them with a few target dummies and weapon racks visible through cracks in the doorways. A large metal door sat at the end of the hall, with the words Deaths Door written poetically above it. Vagrant smirked, perfectly content on being the first to reach it and push it open. Theory Lesson One They all poured into the room. The chamber was quite similar to the ley-training one. It was almost perfectly square with three clearly defined spaces. There was a large, slightly tinted combat ring surrounded by metal grates, do doubt to drain away some of the blood. At the far side of the room was a series of classroom desks, complete with writing utensils, all facing an old blackboard. Slightly jokingly, there was a large wooden corkboard with Palecaller Wall. Around a dozen hand drawn pictures and written poems were crudely pinned to its surface. The final third of the room was clearly reserved for training on stationary targets; straw and wooden target dummies, some with loose, mechanical arms that rotate when struck. Some wooden and iron weapons were available on racks here and there. A few posters and notices on the walls warned Callers to only use ivoryon weapons when practicing on one another, however. The ring was currently not in use. The

only people in the room other than the initiates were Lucian and Saar, who were waiting near the blackboard. Saar waved the four of them over Come. Sit! she called from the board I hope you all slept well. Theres a lot to get through. You wont need your weapons right now. Were going to answer a few questions and tell you exactly what it is we do. The four of them walked over and took seats. There were about ten desks for some reason, and naturally some of these were in the back row. Wyatt instinctively took to one of these, while everyone else sat near the front. Saar gave him a puzzled look, and Wyatt just shrugged Creature of habit. Saar didnt object. She grabbed one of the free desks and pulled it to the front. Lucian hopped on top of it, making it much easier to see and hear him. We may be repeating a few scraps of information youve already heard. Were going to be reviewing the details of our occupation with some scrupulousness. Miss Hrongmar, you have a question. Anya blinked, she hadnt raised her hand, or indicated in any way there was something bothering her. ...Well... Yeah, I guess so. The answer to which will be provided in this talk. Please be patient. Anya just frowned, distrustfully. Excellent, lets begin. He nodded to Saar, who approached the blackboard. The board was mounted on a frame with a pole through the middle. Pushing it flipped the thing over, revealing another side, this one with writing on. Someone had drawn a timeline with a few notches here and there to represent significant events. The date stretched from 0 LW to the current year; 777 LW. It was still quite daunting to think recorded history was only a mere eight hundred years old. The words HISTORY OF THE PALECALLERS were written curvaceously at the boards centre. Saar just sat on one of the desks and listened as Lucian cleared his throat and began to talk The Palecallers. Most of you had never heard of them until just weeks before now. Miss Forktongue has read a few passages on our lore but nothing decisive. We remain a myth, a story to tell the young ones when they fear the monsters in their closets. He caught a pointing stick that Saar threw to him So why were The Palecallers formed? he tapped the pointer against the board towards the left end of the timeline The Ley-Weave ushered in recorded history. The seven leylines netted around out world, created by the seven Divines to stabilise Rimes orbit and banish Glacenox. For two hundred years, Rime did not freeze. With the Divines aid, the sapient races of Sovreignous flourished. They lived long, happy lives. Food was plentiful, disease was almost non-existent, and there was a focus on more than just survival... There was a focus on peace, on pleasure, on prosperity... He tapped further up the timeline But then the leyborn first started to appear. At the time, their source was a mystery. We know now that this was a side effect of being born upon one of the lines of the LeyWeave. Their powers frightened the populous... and when The Divines could not devise a solution, people began to lose faith. He tapped a large bubble a little further along Tensions grew over the years. When The Divines finally discovered the source of the problem, they informed the people. They said it was a result of birth upon their leylines. When the people demanded the leylines be removed... the Divines refused. There were too many still faithful to them, and to bring back The Cold Dark would have been an act of betrayal... The masses were furious... They attacked their gods, and received a single casualty... This was enough to spark the war... He tapped the board again, in the same place In 160 LW, The Faith War erupted. The entire continent was engulfed in the flames of conflict. The Faithful verses the non-believers. One side fought to reclaim their world, while the other sought to protect it. Even today, there is debate over which side was right... but there is none over which side won... he sighed, his eyes a little glazed for a moment, almost as if he was

remembering what happened The number of deaths were incalculable. More people died in that war than have ever existed at any one time following it. Over ninety percent of the population was eradicated... And The Divine of death, Nox... noticed something disturbing. He found that the dead were returning... Returning as spirits, as echoes, as omens... There was no way he could interact with them, but the world was flooding with undeath... It is unknown how the war triggered the first spirits to appear... There are some who believe that Benedis and Desolis overflowed with souls... and the excess leaked back into our world. He looked to the initiates, one by one ...Nox knew something must be done. Together with Glace, they used their powers to create The Pale; a realm in which they could freely interact with the spirits of the dead, and help them pass on. Alone, they were too few, so they recruited aid... The Palecallers. Back during their reign, creating a Palecaller was well within their power... these days we must painstakingly and meticulously plan every minor detail. He turned back to the board, pointing at 200 LW While The Palecallers were a success, and their power was enough to combat the spectral hordes, The Faithful were finally defeated in 200 LW. With the heretics now victorious, The Divines saw no reason to stay. They vanished, moving into hiding. No one knows where most of them reside now... Do you?... Wyatt asked. Lucian stared at Wyatt silently for a few seconds, before continuing With the Divines power waning, they could no longer maintain the Ley-Weaves primary purpose. Rime fell back into its irregular orbit... and once again, we face Glacenox every year. What do you four think of that? Saar asked Were the Faithful right in keeping the world in the hands of their very real deities, or were the non-faithful correct in reclaiming their world following their gods failures. Anya? Anya drummed her fingers on her desk. She looked a little bored We belong here, not them. Look at what the Divines have done for us since then... Were at war with the fenrye, a species one of those damn lizards made. Saar nodded at the opinion, neither agreeing nor disagreeing I see. Vagrant? Hrm... Vagrant, sat up straight Ive been told the Divines only ever killed one person... and that was in self defence... but the records state they held the power to kill... everyone. Their restraint... their compassion... it made their mistakes forgivable, in my eyes... Besides, the reason they turned on them was due to the appearance of the leyborn... speaking as one myself... I can say that was an overreaction. What about you, Elizabeth? Lizzy shook her head I cant say. Some days I agree, some days I dont. Its all perspective... It depends what eyes Im looking through. The people attacked out of fear... fear the divines could not dispel... not very godly of them. She shrugged But Id enjoy a drink with one of the Divines. I have no quarrel with them... I just think they could have dealt with the situation better. Well said. Wyatt, thoughts? Wyatt rubbed his stubbly chin Uh... Well... I dont much agree with the fenrye, same as Anya. Cant say I was too fond of the idea of necroborn and such either... The Divines make monsters, be it accidently or not... I dont think someone like that should rule the world. He shrugged My opinion. Saar and Lucian exchanged looks quickly, before Lucian resumed his speech Its funny you mention necroborn, Master Rook, as they were our next greatest challenge. He dragged the pointer about two hundred years into the future For the next two centuries, The Palecallers operated, their directive still the same. Back then, there were around forty of us at any one time. In our numbers, we were able to pull our world back from the brink of destruction. With the last of The Faith War victims gone, we began to release other spirits that had lost their way. We

constructed The Pale Market, and set about the system youre now familiar with. Work was simple and rewarding. Things were going well for us, even in the Divines absence. He tapped the board And then he came. Morgarth Farl... the scourge that walked. Morgarth Farl bred a necroborn army. He intelligently orchestrated the births of over two hundred individuals exactly where he needed them... Rimes first maternity ward was built upon a necroley line... all thanks to his cunning. He dragged the stick up a few years His recruits heard their masters call. Over the years, he accumulated his deathly tide. In 407 LW, they were deployed... A wall of necroborn warriors... capable of stripping life from a family with nought but a glance... The population was still recovering from The Faith War when The Necroley War broke out. The population reached critically low levels as it was sundered into a fraction of its former self once again... What did he want?... What did Farl want? Wyatt asked. Saar answered from her seat No one knew. He was set on destroying the light houses that sit on the poles of our world; Northlight and Southlight. The Faithful survivors built them after The Faith War, believing that it would guide The Divines back home... the way a lighthouse guides a ship to its docks. It was a strange goal... but its one that took him from south to north, killing everyone in his way... Indeed... Back then, young ones, The Palecallers were barely warriors. Wed never had a reason to take up arms before. Usually we just dealt with incorporeal entities a blade would not touch... It was when this war first started... that we first began to train in combat. We discovered a lot about ourselves... About our true potential. He tapped two years ahead of the wars beginning The war ended in 409 LW. The armies of Rime made on final stand in Glascan, but this time they had a secret weapon; The Palecallers. The callers used their ley abilities to blind the necroborn, shrouding them in a fierce blizzard. From there, the first vermus militia charged and cut down the front lines. It was Gray Koramas who fought his way to Morgarth Farl himself. Reports state he sliced Farls head from his shoulders, and cast his body through The Devils Door... The war ended that day... thanks to him. Saar and Lucian both simultaneously saluted to nothing in particular. ...But then they killed him... Vagrant muttered, coldly. Lucian nodded Yes... and many more... With The Necroley War over... the humans of Sovreignous founded the first true kingdom. Sanctus was constructed, and a noble war general, Rorik Murran became the first king of Sovreignous. To this day, his bloodline still sits on the throne... further he drew the pointer, all the way up to 427 LW The king feared another leyborn incursion. Using the very same techniques hed witnessed us use in Glascan, he had trained an elite force of special operatives, designed to disable leyborn senses, and kill them while they were vulnerable... The Wranglers... said Wyatt Correct. Although back then, they did very little... wrangling. They killed all leyborn on sight, be they men, women or children. It was through this systematic extermination... that they finally found themselves knocking on the gates of this very keep... his regretful eyes briefly looked at the floor Back then, we feared them not. We were war heroes... the people loved us. The people call it a siege in the present day... but there was no siege... We let them in. He shook his head They killed everyone... the servants, the couriers... even Gray Koramas himself... in this very room, in fact. There is nothing dutiful about what they did... It was a poor decision... and the people of the kingdom were outraged... But it was too late. The Palecallers were dead. Except for one. Saar added. A young vermus caller. Hed been out freeing an echo. When he returned, he found Palthgar practically in ruins. There was only one room the wranglers could not breach. She pointed towards the door Youve all seen it; behind the fountain. The Reliquary. It only

opens when it wants to. At that moment, as this vermus stood before the golden doors... it wanted to. Within that room, the vermus learned what must be done. said Lucian. Saar cut in again The Palecallers would be reborn in the shadows. We would become a myth. As long as we remained in obscurity, the wranglers would have to excuse travel here again. Theyve heard the rumours, no doubt, that murmur through Norvask. Indeed they have knocked upon our gates, but theyve only heard silence... desolation. For nearly four hundred years, weve operated in secrecy... going to great efforts to prevent fingers pointing to The Ivory Reach. Needless to say that you will all be expected to uphold subtlety during deployment. The times have changed just a little since King Roriks reign. A Palecaller actually saved the life of one of his successors, and that resulted in a kinder look upon leyborn. Wranglers will try to capture you first. If youre ever pursued, use this to your advantage. Saar rubbed her hands together as Lucian flipped the blackboard over That concludes the history session. Ill take your questions now. All four initiates raised their hands I cannot tell you what is inside the Reliquary... Wyatt, Anya and Vagrant lowered their hands. ...And please, no questions about if whether or not Edwin and Vulpe have a thing Lizzy sulked, bringing her hand down grumpily. Lucian picked up a chalk and tossed it to Saar, who immediately started writing Right, with history out of the way, lets talk about what we actually do. She wrote the words; Spirit, Echo, Venger and Omen. As Palecallers, were obliged to travel the world and assist in the passing of spirits. Think of The Pale as a butterfly net; its a tool in which we can interact with the specimens closely, and determine their fate. She wrote the words Deaths Door As Palecallers, we are leyborn fused with both cryoley and necroley. The cryoley dilutes the necroley and makes it more stable, meaning we get no murderous desires. The necroley helps us in several integral ways. It helps us interact with The Pale, it helps us open The Door, and it protects us from death. The cryoley stabilises the necroley, as Ive said. It also grants us casts, and protects us from The Pales extreme cold. The Salience is impossible unless you have both of these ley types... and The Salience is the only way for mortals to enter The Pale. Glace himself had to undergo the Salience. He was assisted by Nox, who held him in the realm of the living. Sadly, we do not have this luxury. She gestured to a few of the sanguine stains on the rings floor Heres where it gets a little odd. Most of our power comes from the slightly dormant necroley. Every time we brush death, or die and come back, we grow stronger and faster. Our casts become more formidable, and we become more attuned with The Pale. Were empowered by death... our own death. She took her white hair and held it before her eyes Every time we knock on deaths door, our souls become more severed from our bodies, and more property of The Pale. It changes your appearance to match your name. Youre becoming part of The Pale. The colours will drain from your body, and your skin will be icy to touch. If you abuse this gift, you will end up looking like Vulpe... she released her glinting hair Your outward appearance will stop aging, although there is no increase of life expectancy. You may also feel more in sync with your ivoryon weapons and tools She took on a slightly sterner tone. However, there is a cost. The more severed your soul becomes, the easier it can escape you. We have to monitor Vulpe every time she trains now in case we have to step in and resuscitate her... To put it simply... If you face the black too much, one day, you might not make it back. She gestured to Lucian Now I understand if the risk sounds like its not exactly worth it. You may not desire more power, and instead just seek to expand your knowledge. Lucian here has only faced death when absolutely

necessary. He spends the rest of his time researching and documenting what he can... Now wed expected Darius to take on this style, but sadly The Salience took him. Would anyone else be more interested in an intellectual training than one pathed with your own close calls? What use is knowledge in this field?... Lizzy asked, quite passively. Lucian seemed pleased to answer Youll often find echoes speak in riddles, or youre pointed to a place unmarked on most normal maps. Having a wide understanding of this world will help you understand its people. You can adopt a keen sense of diplomacy, which is very interesting. You hear more than just a voice, you hear subtext. ...And... well be able to know everything... just like you? Not... quite. Im somewhat unique... but large portions of the past, present and potentially even the future will be available to you. In addition to our texts and our agents providing information, The Pale itself also retains memories... I can teach you to hear them. The catch is sometimes its hard to stop the memories breaking through on their own... It sounds invasive... stated Vagrant What gives you the right?... Its our duty to protect this world from a force no one else can. said Saar before Lucian could get a word in The information we acquire is only used for the good of Rimes people. Some callers avoid the physical combat and focus entirely on reconnaissance, while most choose the standard learning regime. You can of course branch into both fields. Would anyone be interested in learning what Lucian has to teach? Lizzy eagerly raised her hand, bobbing on the spot while everyone else remained still. Wyatt didnt like the idea of taking shreds of memory from some undead realm. Perhaps this was why Lucian went off on his wild tangents. Was it other peoples lives he was remembering? Saar nodded at Elizabeth Very well. Lucian will schedule training sessions with you personally. She went back to her board Now thats out of the way, lets talk about the kind of entities youll be dealing with on a day to day basis. She took the pointer from Lucians outstretched hand, tapping it against the four names shed written earlier Its important to remember that ghosts can degrade if neglected. This degradation drags them down through several stages. Spirits are the first stage, and by now, the one youre all most familiar with. Spirits are sapient and aware. Through our eyes they look normal. They wear the clothes they were wearing on death, and they all have a reason to linger; their unfinished business. Spirits can actively seek us out, if they are aware of our existence. We can communicate them and even employ them while we resolve their unaccomplished goals. Most ghosts will manifest initially in this stage. If, for some reason, we cannot complete fulfil their wishes, a spirit will slip into a sorrowful and unresponsive state... she pointed to the next name down These ghosts are called echoes. In rare occasions, a ghost will immediately manifest as an echo. This is usually the result of a truly harrowing or gruesome death. Echoes are just shadows of their former selves. They look very similar to spirits, except their forms are slightly transparent. They arent aware or intelligent, and only have a single-tracked desire; that their unfinished business be resolved. Echoes cannot move from the place where they manifested, nor can they communicate with us in a traditional sense. They tend to chant what they want, often in quite sinister and cryptic ways. It becomes an important part of being a Palecaller to understand what their messages truly mean. An echo can never become a spirit... but an echo can degrade further... typically, the next stage is this one. She pointed to Vengers Vengers are the result of echoes that have lost hope. Their sorrow becomes an uncontainable rage. Their outward appearance becomes something more harrowing. Their eyes turn as black as coal, and they will often display the means of their death on their body.

Vengers are able to move around their environment, and can even manipulate objects in the physical plain. They can hurl items or scratch messages into walls. They exist to enact revenge on the living for not hearing their cries, but they will usually haunt the ones that took their lives. Despite their ferocity, vengers are actually the easiest of the four stages to deal with. Their rage makes them dim and predictable, and without their unfinished business, they can be cast through the devils door without consequence. Lizzy raised her hand Why cant we throw echoes through the door too? We try to avoid using the door on spirits and echoes. Not only is it borderline murder, but it can have an unfortunate side effect. You see, vengers do not have unfinished business. Spirits and echoes do. If you try to cast them through the door, they know at that instance that no one can help them... this can invoke a dark and terrible transformation... Omens...? Vagrant asked Correct. The ultimate stage of forlornness. The omen can be born of either neglect or a total loss of hope. They spawn when you either leave a venger for too long, or you twist the soul of an echo or spirit in such a way that they will destroy what they are if it means destroying you too. She pointed over to the wall with various drawings on. Someone had drawn a frightening image of a fetid corpselike fiend, with empty eye sockets, four arrows sticking from his chest and decaying skin, nails and teeth. In all the times wranglers have hunted us, and even following their massacre, weve still lost more of our number to omens than we have to them. Omens differ from their three counterparts in several ways. For one, they can be seen by those without the sight we possess, meaning they can torment innocent, unsuspecting people. An omen will reveal itself to its victim, perhaps through a cold mist, a glass window or a bathroom mirror. The moment its victim first sees its hunter, a countdown is initiated. The victim will die five days from that first sighting, often through horrific and violent means. So we have five days to beat them down? That doesnt sound so hard. Anya said, leaning back with a smirk. Im afraid that rule doesnt apply to us, Anya. As we are as much in The Pale as we are in this realm, an omen can attack us directly. They are fast, deadly, intelligent and unpredictable. Once more, for every victim they claim, they reproduce. A man killed by an omen is stripped of all hope and filled with nothing but a cold longing for retribution. They become the very monsters they feared. This is why we must locate and free spirits before they can degrade to this stage. This is why we, more often than not, follow the wishes of the dead... no matter how unpleasant they may be. Casting an echo through the door may transform it into an omen... and trust me, once youve all met them too, you wont like the idea of taking that risk. Sometimes, if we have the patience, well wait for an echo to become a venger... but... its not advised to stay in a single place for a long period of time. The wranglers will find you. She stared vacantly at the drawing for a few moments ...The only way to destroy an omen is the cast it through the door. What is this door thing you keep going on about?! Anya snapped. Lizzy raised a hand like an eager school girl Oh! Oh! I know! Kingsly told me all about it! He didnt tell me nothing... grunted Anya, looking at the bobbing vermus at her side Thats because you kept calling him... what was it? A polished egg? He is a farling polished egg... Lucian stopped his foot down on the desk Order, please. Dont make me fetch my gavel... Saar giggled softly, before pulling an ivoryon key from her belt

The Devils Door is a weapon that only Palecallers can use. It opens a gateway in The Pale itself that leads directly to the afterlife that follows. She took a few steps from the board The Door can be used on both the living and the dead, but it will only channel souls to the next realm. For many years, we only used this power to send hopeless spirits on their way, but more recently, weve found sometimes it must be used to stop spirits ever manifesting in the first place... she looked at Wyatt, rather curiously, before thrusting the key forward and twisting it in the air. Coils of silver light quickly sprung out in all directions, forming the outline of a metal door, which immediately swung open. A heavenly light radiated from within, and the initiates all squinted as it dazzled them. A soft, warm sort of chime emitted from somewhere beyond the threshold. Saar glanced to the door, before looking back at Wyatt again Look familiar?... Wyatt nodded. For some reason he felt a little regretful in doing so, almost as if hed broken the rules by opening the door before now. The others looked at him for a moment with a level of intrigue, before turning back to the glorious light once again The Door will carry any ghost to the true afterlife. No one knows what is beyond this door... Not even the spirits. It is important you do not enter the door yourself. You will die, understood? They nodded. Saar waved a hand, and the gateway swung shut on its hinges, shattering into fading shards. The key is not a necessity, but it acts as a useful focal point. If you reach the level Vulpe is at, youll be able to open multiple doors without the key. You may also learn how to manipulate the energies of The Pale to create other objects, but were getting ahead of ourselves. She nodded to Lucian, who pulled out a series of papers from his old moth-eaten jacket We have a timetable for you. This is the schedule you will all be following for the first one hundred and fifty days of your training. There are three regular lessons for most of you. Miss Forktongue, you will have four. The old vermus leapt from his desk, easily jumping a good four metres and landing on Anyas desk, which wobbled a little on impact. He began to distribute the papers while commenting on the information upon them Firstly, you will have theory assessments, which will help you in your communication with The Pales residents; a very valuable skill when youre on market duty. Secondly, there is ley training. You will learn to focus and project your casts, and how to adeptly open the door the champion has just shown you. You will commence most of your ley training in the room opposite this one. Finally, we end most days with combat training in this chamber. Combat training requires the most recovery time so we always end with that. Miss Forktongue, you will have additional research sessions which we will schedule together. Lizzy nodded. She seemed quite excited, even with her new tough-girl look. Lucian hopped from desk to desk, eventually ending up on Wyatts where he dropped the timetable into his hand. Wyatt skimmed it over Uh... the times were all numeric and confusing. ...Thanks... Does anyone have any other questions? Saar asked, returning to the board and grabbing a dusty eraser. Why would we need to throw the living through this... door...? Vagrant asked. Saar began scrubbing the chalk from the board Sometimes echoes tell us to kill the living. Sometimes we must eliminate those responsible for creating spirits to ensure they can no longer do it. When we kill, we must ensure our targets do not become spirits... as their unfinished business could be to destroy the Palecallers. Would you do that if they asked? Vagrant persisted Of course not. Saar replied We cannot grant every wish. We would have to decline, and face them at a later date... potentially as an omen. This is why we try not to kill wranglers without the

door. You killed four on your way here, Vagrant, and we had to check to make sure none of them returned. We were fortunate this time... but we prefer not to try our luck. So you apply exceptions only to yourselves. What makes you better than the people you kill?... Saar blinked. She looked at Lucian, who was walking back to the front of the class again ...Well, this is what were for, Vagrant. We cant afford to apply the same rules to ourselves. Without the Palecallers, the call of the spirits would be forever unanswered. Every ghost youve seen would degrade into omens. Theyd spread across the globe, multiplying with each victim. Rime would become a graveyard... Were here for the greater good, Vagrant. Lucian solemnly said as he reached the blackboard again Believe us. Vagrant did not respond. An awkward silence rolled through the room. Thankfully, it was soon broken by Anyas loud and slightly obnoxious voice This table says we were meant to start ley training five minutes ago... Saar nodded at Anya Thats correct. Ill be running that session. Well get to it. Lucian, do you have work to be doing? If Sonya is back, I can go chase down a small trade cabal. Theyve taken a spirits friend and intend to sell him into slavery. The spirit requests he be freed... I have to say, it does remind me of a tale, one that took place on the high seas. I was to be sold to a baron of a small lawless island off the coast of Glascan. Lucian twirled on his heel and walked towards the door, his voice gradually growing quieter as he moved further and further away The ship was assaulted by some sort of gargantuan cephalopod. A creature I thought was the starved delusions of malnourished seadogs. The beast destroyed the.-... his voice faded completely as he walked out through the door. Lizzy beamed as he left I like him. She said, rather simply. He always walks away when the interesting stories pop up... Saar grumbled Were usually stuck listening to the ones about cobbling or politics... she began to walk away, turning for a moment to beckon with her hand Come on. Well start ley training in the other chamber. The ambience makes it easier. The sliding of wooden chairs on stone echoed through the halls of Palthgar as the initiates all stood. One by one, they followed Saar. Ley Lesson One Once inside the ley training chamber, the doors were shut, and the initiates were scattered to four secluded areas. There were soft mats on the floor, and a number of chairs and stools to sit upon. Saar made sure the four of them were all evenly apart, before starting to walk between them. She spoke in a softer voice than before, almost inaudible over the trickling of water that flowed around the rooms edge. There are three types of leycast available to a Palecaller, only one of which well be focusing on for now: The cryocasts, the necrocasts and the pale casts... Cryocasts will be the most frequently used, as pale casts are almost exclusively for omen hunting, and necrocasts are banned. The key to controlling your ley lies in either focus or instinct. You have already experienced the feeling of a leycast. It triggers when youre afraid, or furious. It triggers when you dont think. A leycast needs to become as natural to you as breathing. Its helpful to relax and empty your mind first. In the same way you can move your fingers with an empty mind, so should you be able to manipulate the ley within you. She turned quickly, raising her hand towards a wooden training dummy. There was a flash of light, and suddenly the dummy was covered with icicles and a thick layer of frost. Dont think, just feel. She took a step forward, leaning into a horizontal swipe with her other hand. A

flurry of frozen darts flew from her fingers, thudding into the dummy and the wall behind it. Feel it within you, like a cold wave. You control it. You can shape it to fit its purpose... you just need a focal point and an empty mind. She lowered her steaming hand, reaching into a pouch on her armours belt. So I brought these. She brought out a handful of small wooden cubes. Some of them had mocking or terrified faces jokingly carved into one of their six sides. She tossed a single cube each to Wyatt, Lizzy, Anya and Vagrant These are your focal points. When youre able to freeze these, youll be able to move onto larger ones. They are the targets which you must unload your power into. Im going to leave you all in here, and I want you to sit in silence. Dont take your eyes off your cube. Will your essence towards it. Youll know when youre close... youll recognise the feeling. She dropped a small pile of cubes in the rooms centre Once youve frozen one, come and collect another, and try again. Improve your technique, whatever it may be, and do it faster. She approached the door that led out into the market Listen to the water. Let it soothe you. Let it take you from this place. The only things that matter right now are you, and that little wooden cube. She pulled the door open. A few flakes of snow whipped past her white hair You have three hours. Dont fret if you cant do it immediately. Very few can. Ill see you all later. She gave her signature heart-warming smile before moving through the door. It swung shut behind her. This is stupid! Anya immediately bellowed literally a second after Saar had left. I have an axe. Let me use that! Anya... Lizzy said. Anya turned her head, crossly. She eyed Lizzy who was now lying on her back, holding the orb above her head What? Shut up. Lizzy peered at her briefly Im trying to freeze the tiny brick. Come over here and say that, rat! Anya seemed ready to stand and charge. Lizzy just went back to gazing at her cube, rotating it in her little paw Hey! You listening!? Enough... Vagrant didnt even have to shout for his low voice to carry across the space Sahavra said be silent. I dont want to learn how to do magic tricks. I hate the ley! Anya persisted Ill do the job but I wanna do it my way. The dead way? Wyatt interjected. Anya turned on him. He was a good fifteen metres or so away I dont need them. Ive survived so far. You heard them, Anya. An axe wont cut an omen. Play ball or youll be corpsafied on your first job. Anya let out a sulky sigh, quietly yielding to this point. Wyatt smirked as the silence desired finally fell. He looked at the small block hed placed on the floor before him. It had a surprised expression scratched in. He snorted at it, before turning it to face another direction; the light humour was distracting. The peaceful semblance within the room helped Wyatt relax. Unfortunately, like with the trial two nights ago, he found himself thinking about the state he was trying to reach rather than just slipping into it. He considered counting the ceiling tiles, but remembered what Saar had said about not taking his eyes off the cube. How was he meant to access the ley without counting? He had to count something. Maybe he could count sounds instead, but the only sound he could hear right now was the pleasant flowing of the rooms water features. Perhaps if he edged closer to one of the others, he could count their breaths. That wasnt creepy right?... Ok it was a little creepy... He decided against it. He had to learn to control this thing quickly, without ascending all the way to ten thousand. He remained sat on his mat, the cube a few inches in front of him. He inhaled and

let the air out slowly through his nose; a common relaxation technique his mother had taught him when hed fallen into states of hysteria during his childhood. It had never been overly effective. It had never helped him shutdown his train of thought, but it was better than nothing. Once hed quelled the voices in his head as much as he could, he began to focus intently, fixating a stare upon the tiny wooden object. He felt nothing. Nothing became frustration. In calming himself for a second time, he merely began a vicious circle. For two hours, he breathed, focused, failed, restrained his anger, and breathed once again. Upon resetting this cycle for what felt like the ninetieth time, Wyatt very nearly swatted the cube across the room in defeat. He took a moment to review the progress of his peers. It appeared none of them had achieved their objective either. Anya looked as irritated as he did, which somehow felt relieving. Lizzy was lying on her belly now, childishly kicking her legs in the air, her head in her hands, glaring at the cube a few inches from her nose. Vagrant was sat at a table, his hands upon it, the cube between them. His hood was up, as if he was trying to shut out the rest of the world. Wyatt turned back to his cube, letting out a loud sigh. He felt five eyes penetrate the back of his skull for a moment, before shrugging it off and returning to the task at hand. Wyatts focus was becoming more and more fragile with every attempt now. He was bored. Hed never been good at teaching himself things, as he was more of a copycat than an innovator. Vince had always shown him exactly how to perform the techniques hed mastered before hed even tried them. With something as internal as leycasting, however, this showcasing felt quite pointless. You cant think and expect people to suddenly match the way you do so. It was during this interior rant that a faint clinking noise caught his attention. A very mild cold wind brushed through his hair, and he turned to gander at the source. Lizzys wide gaze was now anchored to the cube before them, which was glazing over at quite a rapid speed. Anya also looked over, raising her eyebrows. Within seconds, the cube was a block of ice. Lizzy brought one of her hands to the cube, and flicked it with some force. The object shattered, and she smiled broadly I did it! she yelled. I dont care... muttered Vagrant from his table. How did you do that, princess?! Wyatt asked, desperately. He felt threatened. He didnt like to appear weak Whats your technique. Lizzy got up, going to the rooms centre to scoop up another brick I just... concentrated on it. I didnt try to bring out the ley until... I felt it brewing. Then it was easy. Ah... Vagrant said from afar. Thats what I was doing wrong... there was a loud cracking noise as the entire table Vagrant was sat at was consumed by a creeping frost. He kicked the table away which crumbled into melting scraps. The others all stared at him with a mixture of horror and amazement. It comes out on its own... like its alive. Its a parasite... he instantly looked a little drained. Its...more than we are... he leant back and closed his eye. Its more than I am... ...Well thats not creepy at all! Anya called, picking up her block as Lizzy returned to her seat Youre saying the reason I cant control it is because I aint asking nicely enough!? Let it come out on its own. Lizzy said, taking the same position she had before, with her nose nearly pressed against the new block. I guess with practice, itll know when its needed... Whatever... Anya grunted, holding the block and viciously leering at it. He expression softened over time as she brought herself back to a state of decrepit serenity.

Wyatt took what the others had said into account. He stopped trying to will the power out, and instead settled for simply watching the block without effort. It was even harder this way to keep his mind totally clear, but he had another hour to do this. If Lizzy could do it, so could he, surely. The seconds ticked by, and Wyatt continued to watch. There were no more distractions. Vagrant was still recovering, and Lizzy hadnt managed a second block quite yet. Wyatt leant in close to his cube, before mirroring Lizzys stance and flopping onto his belly. Still he felt nothing, and as the last grains of sand trickled through the metaphorical hourglass, he still hadnt frozen the thing. The door swung open and Saar reappeared with Volke by her side. They immediately caught sight of the obliterated table, and a few of Lizzys successes too. Even Anya had managed to freeze a single cube, but she must have remained quiet about it. Volke moved over to Vagrant to check on him while Saar effectively debriefed the others Times up. Well try again tomorrow. By the time you can freeze these bricks in less than five seconds, youll be ready to move on. Everyone tell me your times. Two hours. Same as Vagrant Lizzy said. Anya followed A little under three... I guess... My cube was broken! Wyatt called out as Saar pointed to him Its got antifreeze or something on it. Saar giggled, before clicking her fingers. Wyatts cube froze solid, before melting quickly into a brown mushy goo Seems fine to me. Dont worry, Wyatt. I didnt get it on my first day either. Besides, youve already opened the door according to your father. Well have to chat about how you felt during that event. Perhaps it can be simulated. There are different techniques for everyone. Sometimes its not an empty mind, but a memory that conjures the strength you need. Trial and error, Rook. Well try something else tomorrow. Vagrant stirred as Volke hoisted him from the chair and steadied him on his feet This one cast upon the entire table... An impressive but reckless feat. Saar smirked, moving across the room Sort of reminds me of you. Im flattered, Champion. Vagrant looked at Saar, slightly dazedly. Saar pulled his hood down while she spoke to him Know your limits. You cant run before you can walk. He did... Vagrant pointed at Wyatt, who just smiled innocently. In my defence, pal, I did pretty farling terrible on this job. Lizzy and Anya stood and approached too. Anya was still a little sore about being told to shut up, so she kept her distance from the vermus. We have a final lesson today, before we conclude. The combat lessons can vary greatly in length. Volke and his sister have held the ring for several hours on end, but they are quite evenly matched. Were interested to see how well you fare against one another, and which areas we need to develop. She beckoned, moving towards the door Come. Volke, fetch Latter for us, would you? As you wish, Champion. Volke pushed the door to the hallway open and dashed away, disappearing up the distant staircase. Combat Lesson One The initiates stood in a circle around the bloodied ring, each with their ivoryon weapons in hand. Sahavra and Volke were currently between them all, within the ring itself, talking.

The combat training serves two purposes. Primarily, it helps hone your skills and perfect your stance. You all have some training, as is custom on Rime, but you are nowhere near ready for the scores of our enemies. She drew an ivoryon short sword from a stubby little sheath on her hip. It hummed as she held it high for all to see The second purpose is what we gain upon defeat. We give no quarter in our training, and therefore wounds are often sustained... wounds that would be fatal to the common masses. She approached Volke, who stood still with steadfast discipline as she prodded the blades tip against a few parts of his body We can recover from most injuries, but some are harder than others. We have a few rules which your enemies will not abide by... The door swung open and the female bioborn doctor walked in. She gave a tiny wave to the group, temporarily distracting Wyatt and Vagrant. They snapped their attention back to Saar when she cleared her throat, loudly. Ahem! Now... We try not to aim for the heart or brain. If we lose our heads, no amount of healing will bring us back. The heart is possible, but difficult, so please avoid that... She tapped the blade against Volkes arm We try not to dismember. Latter and Preston have been able to reattach severed limbs, however. With some long-term nerve tissue damage, however. The arm can sometimes feel numb or unresponsive. Wed prefer limbs to stay intact. Latter added, helpfully. Lizzy had her eyes closed, and was mouthing words incoherently. Saar spied this from the corner of her eye Miss Forktongue. Am I boring you? Elizabeth opened her eyes. They somehow seemed different, more cold and empty I meant no offence. Continue. She said, quite sinisterly. Very well. Were simply going to watch for this portion of the exercise, and well be identifying your strengths and weaknesses. You may use the ivoryon weapons at your disposal but please no side arms. Ivoryon is essential, and no training is to commence without it, unless you are using our wooden arms. The two of them stepped out of the ring. They whispered to each other briefly, before nodding and gesturing to Anya and Vagrant Wed like you two to go first, please. Anya grinned wickedly, while Vagrant maintained his collected attitude. The pair of them walked into the ring. Anya drew her little axe and twirled it in her hand. Its hum changed tone, singing a scale as she did so. Vagrant reached to his back, unsheathing the enormous ivoryon sword and slamming it down onto the floor before him. He still seemed a little weak from the ley training. You may begin when ready, cazaka Volke said, lowly. Anya glanced to him and Saar beside him, before asking quite virtuously So were allowed to use any ivoryon weapon?... The pair of them looked at each other, before frowning and nodding Technically, I suppose. Saar said. Good! Anya whipped out her pistol before Vagrant could react and fired. Vagrants shocked expression transformed into a vacant one as he slammed to the floor. Anya holstered the smoking flintlock, winking at Vagrant as his body slipped into cryostasis That was easy. Damn it, Anya... Saar said, rubbing her face as the doctor ran over to help Vagrant. There was no honour in this... Volke growled. He seemed offended by the act, and Anya clearly took pleasure in this You didnt tell me to be honourable. You think the bandits I grew up with gave a crap about your honour? You told me to fight him, and I did. I won. How are we meant to assess you if you just gun down your peer? Saar argued Were here to train, not win. You wont have a loaded pistol in every combat situation you face. What if there were two of him? Hed have cut you down before you were braced. Anya scoffed, holding her axe up

Fine. You want me to prove myself? Send anyone else at me and Ill cream them too. Saar narrowed her eyes Very well... She looked at Wyatt, then Lizzy, before tapping Volkes shoulder I choose Volke. Anya looked horrified for a moment What?! That isnt fair?! You think the bandits you grew up with give a crap about fairness? I choose Volke. The fenrye grinned, stepping into the ring in nothing but some ragged, casual clothes and no weapon in sight. Anya glared at him Well? Get a blade. Volke laughed, warmly Oh.. I uh.. he looked at his bare hands I... I dont really use blades. Wyatt watched Latter and Vagrant briefly. Latter was using her powers to close Vagrants wound. Shes practically already finished by the time Wyatt turned away. You may begin when ready. Saar said, uncontrollably smirking. Anya breathed steadily, gripping the axe, her knuckles white. Volke just stood there, hands behind his back, tail swaying merrily. Anya cracked, and charged first, yelling barbarically as she brought the axe down for an overhead attack. Volke swiftly moved aside, delivering a sequence of five punches to her face at lightning speed, before kicking out her legs and elbowing her still flying body to the floor. Anya coughed, winded, but recovered quick enough to roll away. She wiped a line of blood from her lips, before charging again, wildly. She slashed viciously and repeatedly, none of her attacks connecting as Volke swiftly dodged. He sent a few punches her way which she bobbed and weaved away from, and seemed a little impressed. You are learning, cazak! Shut up, mutt. Anya swiped the axe at Volkes muzzle, slicing a few of his whiskers as he backed away. He quickly stepped into another vicious flurry of blows, striking Anya ten, twenty, maybe even thirty times. Anya staggered backwards, her face bloody and her composure weak. She wobbled a little, before collapsing to a single knee. Wyatt winced, before looking at Saar Shes had enough... Shell be fine, Wyatt. She made a stupid mistake. Stop punishing her. Saar and Volke briefly looked at Rook, who was stopping himself from stepping in and intervening This is not a punishment. Volke said. As his back was turned, Anya took the opportunity to hurl her axe at his spine. Volke caught the weapon without even looking This is a gift... He then turned, pulling back and throwing the axe at full speed to Anyas chest. The axe deeply embedded itself, and she went flying, sliding across the floor, a trail of blood in her wake. She froze solid the moment shed come to a stop, and Latter rushed over to her next, tutting. Give me at least a chance to stand up! she said. Wyatt sighed. He knew shed be ok but something felt wrong about just allowing that to happen. Volke cracked his knuckles and stepped out of the ring, taking his place beside Saar once again You two next. Saar said, pointing to Elizabeth and Wyatt. Rook took a deep breath. He could do this. Hed not had that much combat experience but Vince had trained him well. Elizabeth didnt look fazed at all. She had quite a frightening look in her eye, akin only to some form of bloodlust. Who had she become for this? Rook drew his daggers, standing in the ring opposite Lizzy, who had put on her ivoryon claws. He offered a friendly smile. He didnt want this to be a battle of aggression or contempt. It was training,

so it should feel like training. Sadly, Lizzy gave so such sign back. She fell into an attack position, poised and ready. Begin when ready. Saar ordered. Lizzy did not even hesitate. Like a bullet she shot towards Wyatt, leaping in the air and hacking savagely at his face. Rook blocked and parried, catching the claws with his daggers and using his superior strength to lift and slam her onto the stone floor. She was only little, and this was an advantage as much as it was a disadvantage. His analytical mind kicked in, and he began to register every movement within her muscles. Lizzy stood, and tensed, before tossing a pair of darts at Wyatts chest. Wyatt parried one while the other went into his hand. He cursed, dropping one of his daggers as Lizzy lunged again. Wyatt quickly dodged aside, yanking the dart from his hand and scooping up his fallen dagger, readying for another pounce from the vermus. She bounded through the air again, aiming for Wyatts eyes, but Wyatt was able to knock away the claws from Lizzys hands with a horizontal slash. As they clattered to the floor, Wyatt caught Lizzy with a heavy kick before she landed. She squeaked, flying several feet into the air before crumpling into a heap. Wyatt quickly skidded to her side and pressed the dagger to her neck before she could escape Yield. He commanded. Lizzy raised her tiny hands in submission. Wyatts smile was erased however as Saar spoke out We dont do yields. There is no mercy in this world. Wyatt sheathed the daggers, standing up and helping Lizzy to her feet There is now. He defiantly stated. A friend once told me theres a strength in knowing when to draw your blades, but a greater one in knowing when to stay them. Lizzy strolled over to her claws, shaking her head, briskly, some soul returning to her eyes. Again? she said, strapping the claws back on. No. Weve learnt what we needed... But your development is important. Saar said, walking into the ring. The experience is strange, but its one you need to become used to. Next, both of you will fight me. I will not hold back, and you will lose. Naturally, Lizzy and Wyatt offered rather sour expressions to this news. Lizzy walked over to Wyatts side. She held a different posture and stance to the one hed previously witnessed. The three of them faced off, their blades all humming away in a magnificent chorus. Begin. Volke said from the rim. Wyatt and Lizzy both charged. Lizzy was notably laughing nervously. She was a strange one, that girl. Upon reaching Saar, Wyatt slashed a scissor cut her way, but she immediately disarmed him with a vertical slice, before twisting into a slash across his chest. The searing pain sent his body almost immediately into shock, and he collapsed. The familiar cold began to creep over him as his body began to enter stasis. The last thing he saw before blacking out was Lizzy quite competently holding her own against the champion. He watched the pair break from a lock and charge towards one another, yelling. The moment they clashed, the darkness swallowed him whole.

Chapter Seventeen Turn a Blind Eye

One Hundred and Fifteen Days Ago Theres a question youll hear quite frequently in your life as a Palecaller. Its a question youll adopt as your own sooner than you think; Are you at peace? Now this question is significant in several critical ways. It not only applies to you as a Palecaller, but also to the lives you must claim. An individual at peace will never return as a spirit, as they simply have no reason to. They leave this world with no lingering concerns, or desperate pleas. If a target is not at peace, they may return, and then they are your problem. Of course lying is a problem here. Someone can tell you they are at peace when they are not. This is why all Palecallers have a degree of lie detection abilities. You, like some of your fellow initiates, were raised with this talent. If you have even a shred of doubt that your target is being truthful in their answer, then its through The Devils Door with them. A target thrown through the door cannot manifest as a spirit, and cannot literally come back to haunt you. You may wonder why we dont just skip straight to the door without asking. I suppose its considered taboo in a way. Its within sapient nature to fear the unknown... and the door is certainly something that is classified as unknown. The Palecallers have used The Devils Door for centuries, but apparently even the gods werent sure what was on the other side. Weve always assumed that it was simply a gateway to the afterlife that bypassed The Pale, and while we believe this... we technically have no evidence to back this theory up. What if were wrong? What if the door leads somewhere else? I suppose what Im trying to say is; dont use the door unless you know you have to. You use it on omens, and you use it on vengers. Use it on those who are not at peace, and if youre feeling brave, use it on echoes you cannot help. For now at least, no negative consequence has come from its use. Its destination remains a mystery, but we hold in confidence that our theories are correct. Perhaps one day well know. At your point in time, Wyatt, perhaps I myself know.... Heh... Thats a little frightening... dont you think? Peace is a significant part of death. No spirit is ever at peace. A lack of peace is the one thing every undead entity has in common. There is no serenity in the realm that divides the life, and the afterlife. When you look into the door, you may feel soothed, perhaps even happy. It either fabricates a pleasant feeling of carelessness and disinterest, or it strips the beholder of its concerns and emotional baggage. This bolsters the theory that this door leads to a peaceful death, perhaps even the fabled plain of Benedis... an eternal paradise spoke of by The Faithful. Some callers toyed with the idea that the door, in fact, leads nowhere. It simply forces the spirit into a peaceful state, and causes them to immediately pass on... But if this was the case, why would the door immediately end the life of any living being that walked through it? Not just living sapient beings either, but insects... animals too.

I spent hours and hours thinking about the possibilities, some of them too horrific for even a creative genius to fully comprehend. With any luck, Wyatt, youll never have to find out whats beyond that gate the way your targets do. The question however, my son, is one you must also direct to yourself. A Palecaller must never become a spirit... but their lives are at risk almost on a daily basis. Ask yourself, Wyatt... Are you at peace?... Present Day Wyatt squinted, rolling out of bed and thudding to the stone floor as a shaft of morning sunlight pawed at his eyelids. Hed found mindlessly flopping from his slumber was an efficient, (although slightly painful) way of hastily awakening. He quickly bounded to his feet, rushing over to his wardrobe and removing his already picked out clothes that were hanging from one of its doors. For the first ten days of training, hed always been a few seconds late. Not anymore. It had been thirty days now, and for the past twenty, hed been dead on time. Wyatt glanced into his large mirror in the rooms corner before dressing, his eyes narrowing a little as he approached. His bare chest was even more scarred than before, thanks to the eighteen times hed been cut down in the last month alone. As he drew closer, he saw something a little worrying sticking from his fringe like a sore thumb. He plucked the impurity away, looking at it: It was a single white hair. He muttered, casting the hair away. He was either getting much older or slightly more dead. Both of those concepts were a little depressing. Initiates! Assemble! Edwins voice called out from the hallway. Curse you, tiny white hair. You provide naught but ample distraction. Wyatt quickly dressed himself, carelessly throwing on his shirt back-to-front and staggering towards the door, stamping into his boots on the way there. Wyatt practically threw himself into the corridor where Edwin was waiting, who looked a little more tired than usual. As he rushed over, Anya and Lizzy also sprinted out, arriving just seconds after he did HA! Wyatt cheered, pointing at the two girls Sleep is a weakness I have no need for! You look like a jester. Lizzy grumpily exclaimed, tying a few laces on a green dress she was wearing today. Her Drelalti pendant was back on for the first time since theyd met. Edwin beckoned, heading off down the hall Yes yes. Wyatt wins today. Lets go. ...Arent we waiting for Vagrant?... Anya asked, with a shred of genuine sincerity Vagrant wont be joining us for todays sessions. Hes spending the day with Doctor Preston. Is he sick? Lizzy asked, fumbling with the lose threads on the back of her corset Not physically. Hes been through a lot and most of us suspect hes suffering from some sort of post traumatic stress. Its... not really my place to talk about it. Im sure you understand. Confidentiality is the kind of thing Id want in a situation like this. Wyatt nodded, sagely Being confident is important. Lizzy thudded a paw to her face ...Idiot... Theory Lesson Thirty The last twenty or so theory lessons had mostly been covering business etiquette when dealing with the spirits of the Pale. Theyd learnt much on how to manage the market stalls, on what sort of time a spirit needed to serve depending on the magnitude of their requests. Theyd learnt how to

competently deal with stubbornness and aggression from their undead clients, and had spent sessions performing situational improvisation, in which theyd be given a certain task and asked how theyd complete it. Edwin led the three initiates into the study and combat chamber where Lucian was waiting. Volke and Vulpe were currently in the ring, pacing in circles and exchanging steely stares. Doctor Latter was sat at a chair on the edge of the ring, reading a book. Kill each other quietly, would you two? Edwin said as he passed the pair of fenrye. Were trying to teach over here! Are you not meant to be deployed? Volke asked Edwin, dropping his guard for a moment I got back about an hour ago. Truth is, I should probably be sleeping but... education! You know how I love these little tykes! Volke looked at Anya, who gave him a look of pure and complete contempt Yes. They are... quite pleasant... Volke said, returning the gaze with one of simple neutrality. Vulpe reached her polearm over, tapping Volkes shoulder Eyes on me. Volke went back to facing off with his sister, cracking his callous knuckles and resuming the pacing. You can get him this time, Vulpy. Edwin reassured, ushering the initiates over to their classroom seats. I cannot do anything while you talk, talk, talk in my ear. Vulpe replied, with a playful smirk. Edwin chuckled and followed his students. Wyatt, Anya and Lizzy sat at the desks. Wyatt had taken to sitting a little closer to the front recently. Itd been a hassle for Lucian to reach him every time and it wasnt really fair. Hed not argued with Lizzy or Anya for some time, but Anya had been a little cold with him ever since their first combat lesson. Apparently shed taken a similar attitude with Lizzy too. It could have had something to do with their treatment of the fenrye residents; it wasnt aggressive and hostile. Perhaps she was having an episode of if youre not with me, youre against me. While Wyatt had grown accustomed to Volke and Vulpes presence, he still felt uncomfortable spending time with them. He couldnt get past the looks they gave, the noises they made, the atrocities their people had committed... Rook took his seat between Anya and Lizzy, and Lucian hopped onto the front table at Edwins side Welcome. Today were going to be addressing the subject of cryptology within the lost undead known as echoes. Edwin and I have been documenting the messages of echoes for the past thirty days. While these echoes have now passed on, their words are still available to us, and we can use them as tools of learning. He pulled out a few scrolls from one of his many pockets, tossing one to Edwin who opened it up, read it, and began writing its contents onto the board. An echo is trapped in a state of incoherent delirium. They care only for their unfinished business, but are in no state to seek out help or take it into their own hands. That is why we must go to them. He tossed a scroll each to the three initiates The main problem with echoes often comes with deciphering their riddles. Why they do not mean to confuse us, they are only capable of communicating in obscure ways. The sentence structure most of us are very familiar with does not come naturally to them, and they are forced to state their problems in a way that can be awkward to understand. Some are more lost than others. Some will fluently construct a hauntingly beautiful request, while others will shout a single word, over and over... never stopping, until they know no one can hear. Lucian fell silent for a moment, staring into space. In the short void of sound, everyone suddenly jolted with surprise as a metal clang sounded out from the ring. Volke had just blocked a swing from Vulpes weapon.

Please ignore the fuzzy monsters. Edwin requested, hypocritically, as he watched Vulpe with intrigue. The board... Worsch... Lucian commanded. Edwin turned back to the blackboard, completing the transcription. It read Once more into the shadows delve thee, for subterranean monstrosity. Break the beast that broke the spirit, with force of false divinity. Edwin placed the chalk back in the boards compartment and moved aside. Done. He said, waving to the slightly crooked text. Lucian took the boards wooden pointer and started brandishing it as he spoke This dashing little extract was spoken by a thirty year old male vermus echo on the outskirts of Shadowfell. Tell me... hrm... Miss Hrongmar... upon hearing this message, what do you assume? What action do you take? Anya straightened up, squinting at the text. She mouthed the words, her face conveying a slight strain. Would you like me to read it to you? No! she glanced to the fenrye siblings briefly, before back to the board again Uh... What does subterranean mean? Underground Lizzy answered before Lucian could. Shadows underground... a cave? A fair assumption, but incorrect. That is what these lessons are for. Lucian tapped the word shadows This echo was on the outskirts of Shadowfell, as I said. He is referring to the town itself. As for subterranean... there are no caves within the town... so...? ...A basement? Anya asked, reluctantly. Correct. See if you can figure out the rest. Anya looked at the second line. ...Uh... well it says beast... could that mean an animal?... That depends. The word beast can be applied to other things as well. If someone acts beastly, then one might refer to them as a beast. It could just as easily be a human, or-... A fenrye... Anya interrupted. Think of what youre saying, Miss Hrongmar. Why would a fenrye be hiding in the basement of a human settlement? Anya remained silent. Again she looked at the fighting brother and sister. Anya? Could you tell me what you make of the final part? She looked back at the board, focusing on the end segment Force of false...divinity... Something seemed to click in her head Leyborn? Yes. Now consider the previous sections. A leyborn has reason to hide. Reason perhaps even to kill. Was this spirit someone out to report the leyborn to the wranglers? Or was he murdered for some sadistic pleasure? If he killed this vermus in self defence... is breaking him justified?... Lizzy asked, tentatively. Were leyborn. Well kill in self defence one day... Farl, Vagrant already has. Lucian shrugged I cannot answer that. We all make our own calls in this job. Shadowfell is easily accessible, and out of Wolfbane Pact territory. We could wait for this echo to become a venger, and then cast them through the door... or we could not allow the chance of spawning an omen, and simply carry out his business... He raised and lowered his two hands like a pair of scales You must weigh the consequences with the results, the good with the bad. What happened in this case?... Wyatt asked. Edwin answered The leyborn was a necroborn. I had to kill him. There was no other way to ensure safety for the town. ...I saw a necroborn take out a dozen wranglers... how did you handle him by yourself?... Wyatt asked, curiously.

A leyborn cannot focus on what they cannot see. When you fight a leyborn, you blind them first. Thats the technique we used on the Necroborn army during the war... and the technique the wranglers stole from us to suppress the rest of the leyborn. Lucian cleared his throat Returning to the matter at hand... When communicating with an echo, you must take text and subtext into account. You must consider the means of death, and the location of manifestation. You must consider personality, terminology and perspective. Youd be surprised how creative you can be when describing your own killer... Do echoes ever lie?... Wyatt asked, slowly unrolling his scroll No. They have no reason to. An echo will state what he or she needs, some times more clearly than others... Sometimes their requests are outlandish and bizarre... sometimes they just want to tell their spouse they love them... he clicked his fingers That reminds me of a time where I was married! She was a milk maid but she made the most excellent cheese. Did I ever tell you I can name every type of cheese in the- Lucian. Focus. Edwin interrupted. Lucian fell silent, shaking his head dizzily and continuing the lesson As I was saying... an echos business varies just as much as a spirits does. An echo is made either instantaneously upon death, or through neglect of a standard spirit. Before you all now are some of the other echos speeches. Youll find some of them easier than others to translate... Gerl mak zah kor! Trey fenven nak... Ha... They all looked at the shouting fenrye. Vulpes left arm was dangling unhealthily at her side. Volke had a few nasty gashes on his chest. Latter was still peacefully reading I can fix that arm, dear. Dont worry. She said, without even looking up from her current page. Aim for his tail, sweetie! Edwin called, casually He hates that! TALK TALK TALK! Vulpe yelled back, charging again, wielding the enormous bladed halberd in a single hand. Lucian coughed loudly to bait the initiates attention Initiates, please focus on the task at hand. Youve been given three echo speeches each, along with their location of manifestation. Please take your time to draw some sort of conclusion from each one. Feel free to ask Edwin and me for assistance if youre struggling. Please begin, and pay no mind to Vulpe and Volke. They tend to do this at least once day. Once you have your answers, use the quill and ink to write them in the space provided. If you cannot write, then Edwin will assist you. Wyatt, Lizzy and Anya all looked down at their unrolled scrolls and began to read. Wyatt decided not to overwhelm himself by reading all three at once, so he instead started with the top one; Throw the guise of sanctity over my aged bones, and bring the news forthwith to home, so family might remember. Body and spirit found in Everlast Woods wilds. Male human in his fifties. Well, as silly as the word forthwith was, Wyatt got the gist of this one quite quickly, having grown up in Everlast Woods himself. The spirit must have been referring to the city Sanctus. By the sounds of it, thats where his family were currently waiting for him to return home. He wanted his body to return to them and a proper funeral to be held. Rook opened the small draw on his desk and removed the writing implements. His mother had taught him how to write and read at a young age. It wasnt something that came with free education, as that always prioritised survival, not intellect. He scribbled down his first answer, before looking at the next quote. Thomas, Thomas, Thomas, Thomas, Thomas, Thomas, Thomas, Thomas Spirit found in Divines Reserve, Pineline. Human female in early thirties. Wyatt raised an eyebrow, before waving to Edwin. The cocky Caller came over

Whats up? Wyatt pointed to the quote This is taken out of context. I need more. Edwin looked at the repeated word This is one of mine. What do you need to know? Emotion. Was she saying this name angrily or sadly? Edwin chuckled It doesnt work like that with echoes. Youll find they are often quite monotone and drab. They dont have much in the way of feelings. Wyatt leant back I doubt that... They have to hold onto some sort of motive, and that motive carries weight, right? What if the emotion aint in their voice, but is in other tells? Edwin raised an eyebrow, clearly resisting the urge to state how much longer hed been in this business than Rook had Tells? Like when playing Wild Card*? Thats right. Subtle signs from the eyes or nostrils... sometimes in body language. Edwin paused in consideration, before shaking his head I dont think you can rely on that. Ive never been good at cards so Im not going to pretend I can prove you wrong, but its certainly nothing clear. In situations like this, youll have to do what I did; get the full story. I had to find this Thomas the spirit spoke about and question some people about him. If you ask me, thats where your card skills will come in handy. Most fellows will dodge the accusations of murder like they would bullets. Right... So who was this Thomas then? Her pet sledder. Wyatt blinked Seriously? She repeated the name of her pet? Some people have odd priorities. Its our job to deal with them, not question them. I found the sledder a new home and she peacefully moved on. Cut it close though, he was starving to death when I finally found her old home. ...What would have happened then? Wyatt asked, cautiously. Well, if you end someones unfinished business without granting them peace, they linger, but have no reason to. In short, they become omens... quickly. Wyatt groaned, rubbing a hand through his hair Is there anything that doesnt turn them into omens? Edwin laughed, clapping his hand on Rooks shoulder Hey, its a risky job, but someones gotta do it, slick. He tapped the final quote See if you can get the last one. Its a tricky one. One of Lucians. He winked and walked over to Anya, who had her hand up. Wyatt read through the next sentence. Tis not with hatred or disdain I wish to forward mental strain but one has a deal, a deal to crack, he knows Ill always get him back. Spirit found in Edge, Haven. Adult Ley-risen woolorth. Wyatt read through it a few times, frowning. It didnt seem overly complicated. It was some sort of vengeance vendetta, evidently... but not a physical one... and not one as the result of hatred. Leyrisen woolorths often had bonds to human or vermus individuals, in the way a normal woolorth bonds with its rider. Done! Lizzy called at his side. She put the quill away, leaning back and relaxing her head against her hands. Lucian hopped over, scooping up her scroll and peering through it. *Wild Card is a game that uses a standard deck of Rime cards. The cards do not display numeric value, but rather depict images of Rimes various animal species. Typically, the more dangerous the animal, the higher rating the card has. The aim of Wild Card is to match these cards with others and create sequences, while dodging the bluffs of other players to avoid elimination.

Hrm.... You got one right. He dropped the scroll before Lizzys stunned face. Try again. Wyatt sniggered quietly, ignoring the evil eye Lizzy gave him in response. Master Rook? May I see your answers? the old vermus asked. Wyatt snapped back to his scroll, quickly writing down an answer that was just about silly enough to be correct. Sure. Lucian leapt one table across, landing in front of Wyatt and lifting the scroll. Return body to Sanctus... thats correct... Find pet a new home... I saw Edwin helping you with that one, but thats correct... Ah... Set up funny prank on best friend in response to accidental death... Wyatt sheepishly grinned You rushed me. I did. Its correct. Wyatt blinked ...Im sorry, what? This woolorth and his friend had undergone a sequence of tricks to frighten one another. It so happened that the most recent prank had caused the woolorth to accidently fall to his death... There are a lot of cliffs in Edge. The woolorth did not blame his friend, but he held his end of the exchange. He wanted us to frighten his friend as one final act to close the sequence. I had to find his human and discover everything before fully understanding, but it seems you were able to figure out what the woolorth needed without investigation... Well done. Wyatt frowned I thought you knew everything... Lucian twirled his whiskers Some days I feel I do... but... no one can know everything. Lets just settle for; I know a lot. I can access time-lost memories and information stored within The Pale itself... Im teaching Miss Forktongue to do the same. However... I also have a vast bank of personal knowledge... I have my own memories... my own stories... My own experiences. Thousands of years of it... Wyatt frowned. He caught Edwin out of the corner of his eye spiralling a finger at the side of his own head to suggest madness ...Are you thousands of years old?... Lucian laughed, a hearty, rich and quite stately laugh Of course not! No mortal is! ...Then how do you have all those memories? Lucian shrugged, still smiling As I said, Master Rook, I dont know everything. Just... a lot. He hopped across to Anyas table. Anya disapprovingly held up her scroll, which immediately found its way into Lucians hand. Lucian read, tapping his little foot ....Edwin, whats the most wrong thing you can think of? Edwin, who had been watching Vulpe, turned to Lucian Spending a warm Lumina day fornicating with a dead quish? Right. Lucian dropped the scroll This is more wrong than that. Try harder. He hopped away, leaving Anya stewing in her own anger. Ley Lesson Thirty The ley training chamber was much colder than the rest of the complex during these sessions. Icy projectiles and flash freezing casts were frequently unleashed on poor, unsuspecting straw dummies. Lizzy and Anya were currently in the rooms centre, conjuring frozen energy roughly every thirty seconds. They were still a long way from the instantaneous casting theyd witnessed Saar and the others perform. Still, theyd come a long way, thanks to guidance from the other callers. Vagrant had been showing great promise as well... Yet, here Wyatt was, sat in the corner, still focusing on the same tiny wooden cube hed been given on day two. Despite the other Palecallers best efforts, they hadnt been able to move him

beyond this obstacle. It was incredibly frustrating, and it didnt help when the ladies threw demeaning comments his way; usually double entendres referring to his performance in various circumstances. Another bolt of crystalline ice dropped from Lizzys hand, landing clumsily on her foot. She hopped on the spot, holding the injured appendage and cursing loudly Farl! Farl! Farl! Son of a farl! Anya laughed loudly, and Wyatt found his focus languishing once again. He turned towards the commotion. Poorly princess paw? he said, jokingly. Lizzy thudded into a seated position, rubbing her toes and muttering. Anya snapped gratefully at this opportunity She was distracted by you, Rook... Wyatt raised an eyebrow I didnt do nothin... Exactly! She laughed, cruelly. Lizzy couldnt help but join in. Wyatt groaned ...Walked right into that one, huh... Yep. Now focus. You got a lot of catching up to do. Wyatt was thankful for the mocking in a way. It was nice to get something from Anya other than cold aversion. He returned to his cube, with that tiny mocking face scratched into its side. Even the block was laughing at him. He quickly turned the block over, only to reveal a second, even happier face ...Oh come on! he shouted, turning the block over several more times until he finally found a face that wasnt somehow glorifying his failure. It was a sad face. Good. Much better. Calm down, Wyatt. Lizzy called back to him Only way I did it was through serenity. Anya blinked, turning to Lizzy Really? The only way I did it was through thinking of cold things... I never think of cold things... Then youre doing it wrong... Wrong? Youre the one thats more wrong than humping a dead bird! Wyatt shouted over to them, angrily, giving in to his frustration, his eyes closed Both of you shut up! Im trying to freeze the tiny sad face! He sighed, opening his eyes. He blinked in surprise. The floor around the block had a thin layer of ice. It was already melting as he set his gaze upon it. This was as close as hed got so far. He instantly returned to his silent focus. He had to do it. He could do it. Several hours passed, however, and he had made no further progress. He was back at square one once again. He found himself hurling the block across the room as the door swung open to symbolise the end of their ley training. The three of them were collected, and taken back to the combat training room. At least that was something that didnt require reaching some sort of obscure mental state. Combat Lesson Thirty The initiates didnt fight each other as much as Wyatt thought they would following the first day. In truth, eighty percent of the combat sessions involved facing off with more adept members of The Palecallers. They were being encouraged to improve in certain areas, usually having a few non-lethal rounds before exchanging the wooden training weapons out for their ivoryon ones. Someone went down at the end of each lesson, unless there were objections or yields. Despite Saars disapproval, every other Palecaller responded to yields when they were given. Sometimes, at the end of the day, dying was just not something people wanted to go through.

The three of them wandered into the combat room. Fenrye blood still stained the floor, although it was in the process of being mopped up by a female maid. Vulpe, Volke and Edwin were within, waiting. Latter was also inside, looking a tiny bit more drained than earlier. Evidently shed spent some of her power healing up the lupine siblings Just us three today. Edwin began Lucian left an hour ago and Saar is still on market duty. Tomorrow, all three of us are being deployed to find echoes so youll have to take training into your own hands for the day. Saar will take your morning theory lesson and then youre free for the remainder to practice ley and combat. Who won? Wyatt asked, heading over to the weapon racks and grabbing a few wooden batons (they were as close to knives as they had) This special little thing right here! Edwin called, pointing to Vulpe. Volke rolled his eyes, growling quietly. Even with a broken arm, she still hided the big man! Nice Wyatt said, sincerely. Vulpe didnt usually win, against most people, in fact. Her ley powers were incredible but at this stage, even Wyatt could beat her in a basic fight. Right, pair up. Lizzy, who are you today? Alchemist... Youre with Vulpe then. Anya, Wyatt, any preferences? Wyatt was about to pick Volke, before Anya jumped in, as she did every single time I want him. She said, pointing. There was no point letting Anya choose, as she always chose Volke. Shed never won against him, although shed drawn close a few times. Edwin chuckled a little, raising his arms Surprise, surprise. Youre with me again then, Rook. Gotcha. The three pairs took their places around the ring, all armed with wooden weapons (except for Volke, who settled with his fists as usual). Edwin twirled his training sword, pacing around Wyatt with precise and well practiced steps. Footwork was one of the essential cores of melee combat, and Edwin had been teaching Wyatt the bulk of it. You look pissed. Still struggling with the ley? Edwin asked, before pointing the sword at Wyatts feet You need rhythm. Movement needs to become something you dont even think about in combat. Let the motion come as naturally as walking. Wyatt adjusted, then answered the question, irritably Still stuck on the first cast. Think I got close today though... The sound of clashing planks around Wyatt nearly distracted him enough to look away. He did not, as Edwin always punished him with a flurry of blows and lectured him on discipline. How close? I froze the floor around the block... Edwin drew in breath, sharply, before nodding Thats pretty close... He lunged, quickly, swing four times in succession from multiple angles. Wyatt blocked each attack before sweeping for Edwins legs and scissor cutting at his torso. He jumped and parried expertly, before staying his weapon for a moment How did you feel when you made the cast? Same as usual. Annoyed, frustrated. A little ashamed. Something must have been different. Edwin raised the sword quickly and brought it down from above. Wyatt caught it between the two batons, kicking the air as Edwin dodged back. Wyatt braced once again, before answering

Well... I closed my eyes. The combat around the room stopped very suddenly. Vulpe and Volke were now staring at him, wide eyed, along with Edwin. ...You made a cast with your eyes closed?... Edwin asked. ...Well uh... Wyatt scratched his head Yeah?... I guess so?... Edwin lowered his weapon, slowly. Sorry, Rook. I need to go and speak to Saar. You dont mind if we stop here, do you? ...We barely started. Yeah, well catch up and have a long session in a few days. Sorry. Edwin bowed quickly before jogging off, leaving Wyatt standing there with everyone staring at him. He suddenly felt quite selfconscious. ...What?... Vulpe and Volke slowly pulled their gazes away, returning to their fights. Wyatt sighed, hanging up his wooden weapons and leaving the chamber. What the farl was all that about? ***** Later that night, Wyatt found himself in the social hub of Palthgar, the leisure room. It was dimly lit and relaxing with an alcohol stocked bar, a series of musical instruments, a few game tables and a series of comfortable sofas and chairs. There were around a dozen individuals currently within, most them either servants or agents. Wyatt was sat alone, although hed just been brought a drink by Rogue, the starl ley-risen. The four ley-risen starls were perched on the bar, chatting away. Theyd invited Wyatt to join them but he was still in a sour mood following the days events. Rook downed his drink and thanked Rogue from a distance, before heading to the door. Perhaps hed just sleep it off and start again in the morning. He couldnt help but feel like hed done something wrong. The looks the others had given him... was it fear? Or concern? Was it doubt or disbelief? If he had to make a guess, based on his skills of observation, hed have gone with the final one. Great... He was in a fortress perched upon the pinnacles of Sovreignouss tallest mountain range... being tutored by ice wielding, death sapping maniacs and being bought drinks by sapient carrion birds... and he was the one doing something unbelievable. Typical. As he exited the leisure room and headed down the dark corridor, the door to the recovery room swung open. Vagrant stormed out, being closely followed Doctor Preston, who made a vain attempt to stop him. Vagrant, please! We need to get to the root of this. Get out of my way... Wyatt quickly shrunk into the shadows of an adjacent doorway, concealing himself and watching, stealthily. Do you think Gabrielle would want this? Vagrant grabbed the doctor by his collar, pulling him close. Wyatt placed a hand on the hilt of his right blade. He would intervene if he had to. I told you not to say her name... You cant just erase her! Thats not how life works! Vagrant pulled him closer, his one eye gleaming with rage ...And you cant just erase yourself, either... Vagrant glared, ferociously, before releasing the doctor and walking away. Preston called after him, desperately She was your sister, Vagrant! Dont let her become just another echo... Vagrant did not respond. He had already descended the stairs. Preston sighed, brushing down his roughed up attire. He blinked, turning towards the doorway Wyatt was hiding. Wyatt vanished into the dark. Preston tilted his head, shrugged, and re-entered the surgery. The door to the recovery room swung shut behind him.

What are you doing?... Wyatt whelped as the friendly voice of a hand maiden at his rear scared him half to death. He turned quickly, straightening up and clearing his throat. ....Door guarding. Im a door guard. He knocked on the frame This door is safe. As you were, citizen! The maid rolled her eyes, entering the room and pushing the certified door shut. Wyatt sighed with relief. That was a close one. Theory Lesson Sixty Another thirty days sped by. Time had never gone this quickly. Lumina had well and truly left the planet now, replaced by the freezing winds and constant blizzards of Glaze. Glacenox would be here soon... although in the warmth of Palthgar, itd be hardly noticeable. Market duty would be a little trickier, but with each near death experience, the cold became more and more tolerable. The even within these stone halls, the wind could be heard howling away outside. This was the last bastion of true warmth in the entire Ivory Reach, and the frigid air wanted to change that. Wyatt. Focus. Rook once again returned his attention to Vulpe and Saar who were taking todays theory lesson; the sixtieth so far. Most of it these days was reviewing and improving previously learnt techniques for communicating with spirits and understanding echoes. There were the occasional sessions that covered some more of the lore and history, with less focus on The Palecallers themselves and more on Rime as an entirety. Apparently Rimes past was a useful thing to memorise in the occasions in which echoes refer to historical events. Theyd also learnt how to write encrypted messages and deliver them by starl, but this would likely take several more weeks to fully grasp; it was a complicated and unique encryption, far more advanced than the ones Rook had seen in his life of petty crime. Todays lesson however had been covering the concept of prophecy, and fate. Wyatt had found himself hearing the word fate far too often since hed accepted his fathers proposal three months ago. Zachery had told him what his fate had been, that he was destined to become a Palecaller. Hed also mentioned how hed nudged Wyatt in the right direction on occasion with subliminal messaging and such. That didnt sound like fate, it sounded like puppetry. Vagrant, Anya, Lizzy, Vulpe and Saar were currently in the room with Wyatt, with the two senior members standing and the initiates sat at their desks as per usual. Hands up if you believe in fate. Saar said. Vulpe and Saar raised their hands, while perhaps a little surprisingly, no one else did. None of you? Interesting. I imagine Kingsly, Orphus and Zachery had much to say of it. Nothing convincing. Anya said, stubbornly. Wyatt chipped in Zache-.... I mean, dad used to speak about it regularly. He acted like it was a mixture of something can control and something you cant. If someone controls your fate, I believe it is their fate to do so. Saar said. Everything is predetermined; your birth, your death, your first kiss, you falling off your chair when you lean back on it too far like a school child. There was a thud as Lizzy fell to the floor. She quickly picked herself and the chair back up, before sitting upon it again. She looked unimpressed, through the dark painted patches around her eyes (this was one of her characters, identifiable by the inky patterns applied onto the fur, and fairly intolerable personality.) Theres no such thing as fate. She said, conclusively. Why? Saar asked, patiently and reasonably

Because its like saying someone can read the future. Theres no way of determining if theres fate without someone to read it. Youre claiming something exists without any evidence. Give me evidence, and then well talk. She leant back, chewing on a pencil. A fair stand. Its one most would take. Saar glanced to Vulpe, who smirked back at her. Saar grinned as she turned back to Lizzy I have evidence. Lizzy blinked, raising an eyebrow. Piss off. Anya grunted. Its true. I do! Vulpe took a chalk and wrote two words onto the board THE LYSUS. ...What the farl is that? Wyatt asked, leaning forward. The Lysus are the members of the civilisation that predated the humans, vermus and fenrye. Their ruins can be found all over Rime. Over the years, a group known as The Recollectors have been gathering information from these ruins. It seems the Lysus had a knack for prophecy. Wyatt thought back to his time in the Cracked Fang dungeon. Fyor had been a recollector. The Lysus must have been what he had mentioned. Quishcrap. Lizzy said. What did they predict? That theres plenty more fish in the sea? Grass is always greener on the other side? They predicted a great deal about our own recorded history: The arrival of the Divines, the creation of the fenrye... Vulpe gave a little wave Even the first Glacenox... Glacenox has always been here. Lizzy argued. Saar shrugged Not according to the Lysus. Some of the recollectors think they are somehow responsible for Rimes irregular orbit... That they created Glacenox... QUIIIISSSSSSSSSHHCRAAAAAPP! Lizzy covered her ears This is an insult to logic. You cant invent seasons! The Divines did it. They removed Glacenox. So you say... Saar couldnt help but laugh a little. I understand your reluctance to accept what Ive placed on the table. Perhaps if youd met the Divines, you would be more open minded? Lizzy dropped her paws, shrugging I dont even know if they are real. They sound farfetched, ludicrous. Im not going to meet them anyway because they buggered off. Saar sighed, before nodding slowly Yes. I suppose they did. She looked to each of the initiates in turn The message I want you to take from this lesson is that acceptance can occasionally be the key to your own fortune. Its not always about resistance... sometimes all you have to do is let the worlds whims guide you. Lizzy still looked grumpy Ha. I can see weve upset Miss Forktongue. Why dont we conclude early and proceed to ley training. Id like to oversee this session to review your progress. I shall be quiet, dont you worry... Ley Lesson Sixty Flakes of snow were falling from the ceiling as Vagrant, Anya and Lizzy all practiced heavier casts. They were progressing excellently, able to dish out large and effective casts every five to ten seconds. Furthermore, theyd all developed their own styles. Lizzy favoured short icy barbs , some of which detonated spectacularly on impact. Anya preferred flash freezes; although they were slightly more time consuming and difficult to master. Her evident power with the ley was frightening considering her fairly short temper, although shed become calmer as the months passed by. Vagrant meanwhile had a tendency to use his large sword as a focal point. Slashing it through the air, he could create arcs of frozen energy that brought anything they touched to sub zero temperatures.

The instructors had insisted he used the ivoryon blade as a controlled catalyst, to stop him from losing control and shattering furniture as hed done before. To their credit, it seemed to have worked a charm. And where was Wyatt? Still stuck with the tiny block in the corner of the room. Sixty days... sixty days of failure. Two months of miserable, pathetic nothingness. His morale was all but depleted. Even when closing his eyes as hed done before, he couldnt make the cast a second time. It was even more humiliating today, as Saar and Vulpe were watching. Edwin understood. He offered advice and counsel. He was Wyatts favourite. Saar however was cold and occasionally totally remorseless. It was rare, but she could break into a fury faster than anyone Wyatt had met before. She had some sort of suppressed anger towards weakness, and she seemed to show it spontaneously. In combat training, she never accepted yields, and she never gave them. The rest of the time however, she seemed friendly enough. Her words were often helpful and Rook took every opportunity to accept her criticism... even if it was a little cruel at times. She was the champion, after all. She knew what she was talking about. Saar had dropped in more regularly since Edwin had told her about Rooks accident, although shed never inquired much about it. Wyatt hadnt either, afraid of bringing up a subject that could get him scalded. As the clashes of cryoley casts echoed around the large space, Wyatt found himself overcast by a pair of shadows. Saar and Vulpe had approached. The pair of them sat down nearby Eyes on the block, Wyatt. Saar commanded. Wyatt obeyed. Yes, champion. Theyd all learnt a bit of discipline in their time in Palthgar. Although you could have a friendly chat or even an argument with Saar without consequence, it was law of the fort that you followed her commands. Tell me what youre thinking. Whats going through your head? Wyatt stared at the block; at the little sad face that was grumpily gazing back at him. Right now... Far too much. Im angry, tired, a little sad, and a tiny bit scared... Why? Go through each of them. Dont take your eyes off the cube. Wyatt prepared to answer, but jolted as Vulpe placed a clawed hand on his shoulder Ignore her, Wyatt. Tell me. Uh... well... Im tired because Ive been trying this for ages and havent made any progress... it feels so... farl damn exhaustin... Im sad cause I feel I should be able to do better, and I wanna make this new life work. He clenched his fists a little Im angry because my Pa went from this world believin I could do this, and Im failin him.... and... Im scared because... he might still be able to see me.... he sighed. Vulpe looked at Saar, before holding up three fingers with her free hand. Saar nodded, and Vulpe withdrew her other paw. The pair of them stood up. Wyatts eyes remained locked to the cube ...What do I do, champion?... Nothing. Were done here, Wyatt. Wyatt blinked. He didnt like that tone. He looked up at Saar, who was glaring. Clearly you dont have what it takes. We made a mistake. Your father made a mistake. Wyatt scrabbled to his feet, babbling desperately Woa woa! What?! You cant just throw me out. I dont have a life out there anymore! This is a fort for Palecallers. You are not a Palecaller. You are a void of talent. A useless waste of space. Wyatt clenched his fists. He felt his anger rising in a way it hadnt for a long time Youre makin a mistake! The Palecallers are a single unit. Were as weak as our weakest member... and right now, were pretty farling weak. Saar mercilessly snapped. Wyatt trembled, his eyes narrowed, his teeth almost bared

Screw you, champion. Whoever gave you that rank clearly has a farling problem. Evidently, hed spoken loud enough to attract the attention of the others, as the casts had stopped So how about you climb down off your high and mighty throne and farling help me instead of bein a bitch about it. Saar grabbed Wyatt by the collar. Im saving your life, whelp. Youll die the moment we deploy you. Now get the farl out of my keep! NO! THEN FREEZE THE DAMN BLOCK! I CANT! An icy rage rushed through Wyatts body as he yelled, and a flash of blue erupted from his body. Vulpe and Saar quickly braced and slid backwards as an unusual cold numbed Wyatts fingers. He closed his eyes, waiting for it to pass, still quivering furiously, uncontrollably. Wyatt.... shhh now... Saars voice whispered in his ear. He felt Vulpe take his hands, gently Its over... open your eyes... Wyatt felt drained. He raised his eyelids, wobbling a little, Vulpe steadying him. The entire side of his room was gleaming with a thick layer of jagged frost and ice, with the tiny wooden cube suspended in the frozen masss centre, trapped in a transparent chamber. Vulpe and Saar were practically covered from head to foot in flakes of ice and snow, but they paid it no mind, bringing Rook back into a seated position. ...Wha?... Wyatt weakly asked. Im sorry, Wyatt. I had to know. Saar began Youre not a weak link. Forget what I said. I just needed to get you... angry. ...Why?... There was another Palecaller, Wyatt... a long time ago... He was unique... Edwin told you not long ago, the way to defeat a leyborn is to blind them... No leyborn can cast with their eyes shut... but... there was one who could. Vulpe released Wyatts hands and began to check him over, scanning for any injuries or problems There are many ways our callers tap into the ley... through serenity, through memory, through focus, through imagination... But this caller... he tapped the ley through his rage... His power was great, Wyatt... She placed a hand on Wyatts pale cheek, and gave him a warm smile You dont believe in fate... in destiny. I do... I believe youre destined for greatness...

Chapter Eighteen Catch Up

One Hundred and Eighty Two Days Ago And so you awaken, on your one hundredth day of learning in Palthgar. I wish I could see how far youve come. By now, Glacenox should be here, and you, as a Palecaller, will be able to resist it as if it were a chilly breeze. Im making assumptions, of course. The generation of callers before you all developed at different rates... or at least, so they told me. I suspect youre getting along well with them. Ive never met a group of finer individuals... be it some of them are a little, shall we say...unstable at times. For twenty four years, Ive been dead. Twenty four years Ive watched you grow, and twenty four years Ive spent with the agents of The Pale. I remember so much of their generation, fractions of history likely lost to time. They were all twenty years younger, but most of them looked exactly as they do now. The generation above theirs were just as extraordinary... but whats done is done. We cannot bring them back. It goes without saying that events of some significance have occurred within these walls, my son. Some of them are minor, but some so daunting that the rest of sapient culture would scarcely believe it. You should ask Lucian some day about the Ivorn siege of 761 LW. To this day, Edwin and Vulpe share the only fenrye and human relationship on the planet. I remember the day they made it official, a little over twenty two years ago. Heart warming that something so incomprehensible could be so stable. There is lore held amongst us, exclusively, privately. We control a force that civilisation deems mythical, false. Can you imagine how society would react if Palthgars secrets were exposed to them? Would it be chaos? Would it be praise? Would they hate us due to indoctrination, or would they appreciate us for our centuries of service? The Palecallers never used to be an incognito force. They were loved, respected. Their loyalty to the Divines was something overlooked, as their assistance in dire situations made even the most radical social taboos excusable. It wasnt until the kingdom branded them as enemies and wiped them out that The Palecallers reputation was damaged forever. Initially the people rioted. They stormed Sanctus and almost dethroned their king... but in the end they settled for his rigged alternative; an element of democracy. Now the very same people responsible for the damnation of this world were voting for new leaders; The Watchful Council. The descendants of those who ravaged this world clean of the Faithful, and purged it of the gods and goddesses themselves... These days, every leyborn is a potential threat. I wonder if the majority of the kings subjects even remember it was The Palecallers that saved his bloodline... twice. There would be so many more Faithful today, Wyatt... if it hadnt been for that war... for those first few objecting heretics... and their corrupting influence... The world would be without conflict... without struggle. People have their moments but... they always made me a little angry. Its why I could take such solace in spending time with your new teachers. Youre in company I valued with all I had left. Im sure you still hold some prejudice against them. They are Faithful, after all, and I know youve never been one for religion. Two of them are fenrye... and I know youve also never been much for savage warfare, but... Give it time... and they will become the greatest allies you could ever hope for. Give it a little more, and they will grant you friendship stronger than the ebonstone gates.

Present Day Wyatt was stirred by a knock at his door; a gentle, quiet knock. He sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes and taking a moment to allow them focus. He checked the window. It was still pitch black outside, so there was no way it was time for training. During Glacenox, the stars somehow seemed brighter... or perhaps rather, the sky seemed darker. Even through the frosted glass, they were visible, radiating their distant light down onto the frozen world. As Wyatt dragged himself from his mattress, the knocker tapped again. There was no real urgency, so it cant have been something serious. He pulled a coat over his half bare body and went to open his door. The torches in the corridor outside were currently extinguished, and wouldnt be lit for several hours yet. As Wyatt opened the door, he could barely see a thing outside it; just the silhouette of a single person. He moved aside a little, allowing some of the light from his window to pass over his guest. It was Anya, pale and restless, bags beneath her eyes and massive levels of insecurity conveyed through her body language. Her arms were crossed, when she wasnt fumbling with her own fingers, and she only made eye contact in second long intervals. She clearly wasnt going to say anything unless Wyatt did first, so he spoke I take it youre not here to stare at my floor... but... he sighed Come on in. Theres a really nice patch of floor over yonder... Anya appeared grateful, but only momentarily. Rook guided her over to the window so he could get a better look at her. In all of her challenges to Volke, shed never once yielded. Shed already undergone a noticeable transformation. A several streaks of white hair were amongst her blonde roots, and her eyes were a brighter green than before. She was wearing a night gown that had been gifted to her by one of the hand maidens some time ago. Before then, shed slept in her armour. Rook closed his door, glancing to Anya who was still maintaining silence, before heading to a chair and pulling it over to her. Siddown. He ordered. Anya didnt protest, taking a seat. Wyatt leant against the wall beside his window. This already felt uncomfortably like an interrogation, but he tried his best to keep it friendly So whats up? This is a first for both of us. Anya inhaled deeply, before letting out a long sigh ...Nightmares... Dont speak of Kingsly in such a way! No, Rook... real nightmares... You always have nightmares. Why come to me now? Anya looked up, confused ...How do you know?... Ive seen you sleep. During our climb of The Ivory Reach, we rested in that cave, remember? You showed some pretty heavy signs you were havin a bad dream... you murmur and toss and turn... never could make out whatcha said though. He shrugged, before persisting Well? Egh... Anya grunted, looking at the stone tiles beneath her Because... youre the only friend I have?... Wyatt pointed to his door Lie to me again, and youre out. This aint Bjorns Fort no more, sunshine. I can see a thin lie as good as Lizzy tells one. Anya backed down, quickly. Needless to say, this was unusual for her Ok! Ok... fine... Its because youre the only one I trust... and I feel like... you care... I just wanted to talk to someone... I... She flailed at the walls Can you imagine me going to Forktongue? Or Vagrant? What the farl would he say? Probably not a lot. Ill take your answer of because theres no one else around then?

Its not just that, Rook... You... looked out for me... When Volke was attacking me, you... well you had something to say about it... You usually treat me like crap, Hrongmar. Wyatt said, sternly You telling me it took a full one hundred days to have a change of heart? I didnt think I needed help! Clearly Im over that, ass-wad! Wyatt snorted Ass-wad? He straightened up Theres a pair of trained docs who know psychology just a three minute walk from here. Anya held her head, gripping her hair I dont.... trust them... And you say you trust me? Because I had a farl damn conscience that one time? Why should I buckle down and be your best bud when youve been a pain in the ass ever since we met? Youre a racist, nasty little-.... Uh wait, what? He blinked as he realised Anya had apparently started crying. Genuine tears were dropping from her eyes, and she wasnt even making attempts to disguise or hide them. Hed heard of sympathy pleas before, a card Lizzy had used on him on more than one occasion... but this seemed sincere; she wasnt giving off the signs of deception. He immediately felt guilty ...Anya, Im... Sorry... I just thought youd take it... Anya wiped away the moisture from her eyes and cheeks ...Can we talk then?... Just for tonight... then Ill go back to...being a pain in the ass. Rook nodded. He went and grabbed his spare chair and brought it to face Anyas. Right... he said, sitting opposite her Ive had plenty of nightmares in my time... What makes yours so scary? Theyre real... she answered. Wyatt tilted his head Real? As in memories? Anya nodded, reluctantly. Not surprised something from working with The Bloodied Sons comes back to bite you in the subconscious... Anya continued to elude meeting Wyatts gaze ...Its not something I did... its something that they did to me... She clenched her fists, involuntarily It just... plays on a loop... over and over... Every night. Every farl damn one... Wyatt tried to understand. Hed undergone psychological analysis in his own time Ah... So by night youre a scared Anya... and by day youre a-... Im always scared, Rook... she began Im always... angry... I cant just... shrug it off... and its always there... I wanna fight it but... I just end up fighting everything else... What happened, Anya?... If you dont mind me askin?... Anya remained silent. She took a moment to stare out of the window, setting her gaze upon the stars ...Anya? she snapped back to the room Sorry... I aint... never told anyone before. She took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself. Wyatt let her take all the time she needed. The Bloodied Sons... theyre called that for a few reasons... one is that they are bloody... the other is that they are mostly sons... men. Sometimes they take women in raids and such... and... well... you can imagine what they do with them... Wyatt felt his heart sink ...You were kidnapped? Anya smiled for the first time Heh... no, actually. I wasnt that lucky... she managed to look at Wyatt, and hold the eye-contact My ma was some...poultry handler that they snatched from a Norvask farm... My da was... a bandit, called Zark Irons... to put it simple... he was the man who raped her the most successfully... she looked away I didnt sign up to join... I was born within those walls...a bandit baby. I was kicked around plenty but managed to stay on my feet... til I was four, and ma was shot dead in front of me for spilling a bucket of milk... She touched her own face for a moment I was uh, covered in her

blood... Was only little at the time... didnt really understand what had happened. I dont think I cried until I missed her... Im sorry... Wyatt began, but Anya stopped her I barely remember that... Just flashes really... Not enough to cause nightmares... nah... The nightmares came from everything afterwards... I couldnt leave, couldnt escape... so I was trapped in this fort... with hundreds of... creeps. Women are objects under their rule... and when you force guys to back off more times you can count... you learn a few things... you learn how to fight, and how to win. She brushed a strand of hair from before her eyes But you dont win every time... do you, Rook? Wyatt just stared in a state of silent horror And that was just the beginning... Wasnt until recently that they started recruitin rats and dogs... vermus and fenrye... Those fenrye, the ones they found... there werent no honour in them like Volke says he has... They had just as many urges as the rest ofem... and they werent keen on losing... And those vermus... they werent exactly helping... usually just spouting crap from the sidelines... They liked to watch... Anya, you cant just hate every member of a species because of something one member did... Wyatt finally managed to say It was more than one... Well a few then! Its still poorly directed. You dont hate all humans cause of what they did to your ma, right? Anya tried to smile as she looked straight into Rooks eyes Think thats my problem, Rook, my secret... I hate them the most... These callers... they aint so different to those bandits... and when Volke beat into me like that... with Saar and Lizzy just... watchin... It... brought back some bad memories... memories that aint even that distant... Wyatt just hung his head, unsure of what to say. Rook... before you could hear your da... Did something have to happen to you? Something bad? Wyatt looked up, before nodding A loan shark shot me. I was saved by my best friend. Quick and easy, huh?... Do you wanna know what happened to me, before I could hear Kingsly?... Im not sure... Wyatt said. Lets just say, my da didnt much care what people would think if his urges led him to me... I fought back... so after he was done...he strangled me... The ley took me before he could break my neck... but I saw every moment... felt it. She sighed If it werent for Kingsly... I dont think... Id have wanted to wake up. Wyatt continued to listen. Anya was clearly getting a little more comfortable with his presence The bandits saw me freeze. They knew I was a leyborn, and like idiots, they thought they could use me... Was with Kingslys help that I escaped... but not before I put an axe through Zarks throat... Even though hes dead though... I can still see him... and all the others before him... I can barely close my eyes without hearin their laughs... Not even once did someone defend me, Rook... You were the first... she shrugged, half-heartedly So... Youre the exception. After you shot Vagrant, youre lucky there was an exception, Anya... but... you are who you are. Wyatt stood, heading over to one of his small cabinets and pulling out a few flasks. I used to have a lot of trouble sleeping too. I used to see my fathers ghost before he could speak to me and... well... that was frightening, some. Ma used to give me what shed call a nightcap. He approached, and offered one of the flasks Its just firebrand whiskey really, but hey, it did a half decent job of knockin me out. Anya went to take the drink, but Rook quickly held it out of reach But first, I want you to make a few changes. Feel free to call me whatever you want, feel free to hate Volke for beatin on you, or Lizzy for bein smarter than you... but from this night on, Anya... Start hatin for

who, not what. It aint fair. Anya gave a mean look to counter against the condescending one Wyatt was offering ....Ill think about it. Wyatt handed the drink over. Was there anythin else? Do you feel better, at least? Tell me my consoling was of some value! Anya just nodded, very slowly Its a start... Wyatt winked, before heading to his bed Good. Now, unless youre planning on joining me for the night, I suggest yall scooch on outta here. Day one hundred tomorrow and Im planning on beatin Saar to celebrate. Anya stood. For a moment, she seemed ready to follow. ...Farl, youre not actually considering it, are ya? Anya threw up her shields, hastily What?! Of course not! I was just fondly thinkin of how youre gonna get your ass handed to you for the... what, fiftieth time? Fifty seventh. Remind me how many times youve lost to Volke? Was it ninety two? At least I mix it up a little and fight the others. Up yours, Rook. She quickly retreated to the door and pulled it open. Before exiting, she stopped in the doorway for a moment ...Thanks... she gratingly uttered. Next time you thank me, could you try to make it sound less like youre pulling crap off your boot? Anya snorted, leaving and pulling the door closed. Theory Lesson One Hundred By the time Saars theory lesson came around, Wyatt and Anya had both had a few hours to sleep, and a few hours were all they needed. As usual, the four initiates assembled in the combat training chambers classroom area, and took their seats. Vagrant and Lizzy were displaying few signs ghostly signs currently; theyd both fought and lost less than Wyatt and much less than Anya so far. Today Saar was joined not only by Edwin, but also by Alistair, the ex-wrangler engineer from the eastern tower. A table had been carried over and currently sat upon it were five contraptions, with a larger sixth leaning against the side. Wyatt recognised the warder and the glider, but the others were all new to him. Greetings, initiates. Saar welcomed them all Today well be talking about the sort of gear well be gifting you with on your assignments. Alistair here creates all sorts of mechanical wonders, and hes joined us today so he can showcase some of them. One of them, even I havent seen before, so this will be interesting for all of us. She took a seat on the table Lucian usually stood upon as Alistair limped over and took her place before the blackboard. His goggles were currently over his eyes, but even with them hidden, it was possible to tell he really didnt want to be here. Good morning. He said after a moments pause. ...Lets get straight to it. Weve all met before, so I can get off the formalities and into the tech. Well get the familiar ones out of the way first... He strolled over to his table, picking up a warder. He fired a torrent of flame at the high ceiling, with dissipated before actually reaching it. The warder is an anti-ivorn device, but it can also have uses in the wilderness. Fire frightens animals, lights beacons and destroys evidence. A warder is essential for deployment. No exceptions. He placed the flamer down Once Ive shown you these, youll all have an opportunity to test them and grow accustomed to them. That will make up the entirety of this lesson. Next. He walked over to the plank leaning against the table itself The hand-held glider is something I created to compensate for the aerial superiority our vermus residents have. Unlike Lucian and Elizabeth, we cannot ride the wyte from the western tower. We are however still very

high up, with a downwards slope that leads all the way to the lands below. At this altitude, one can glide for hours before being forced to touch down. You can reach impressive speeds without hindrance or danger. He carried the plank before the board, unfolding it into a larger plank. After this was done, he pulled on a cord, and several leathery wings sprung out, with a tail to aid in manoeuvrability. Unfolded, it had a wingspan of around three to four metres. Normally, this would not be enough to carry the weight of a fully grown human male, but the flexible webbing is made from draco-leather, and the supporting frames are built using a metal called sylph. Sylph? Lizzy asked, tilting her head Thats right. Its not an officially recorded mineral. In mythology sense, in the way ivoryon are the scales of Glace, sylph are the scales of Driff. The metal manipulates currents of air and provides superb control and longevity within it. Needless to say, however, this metal is rarer than every other metal you know, so do not leave the gliders behind. Is there a metal for every god?... Wyatt curiously queried. Alistair looked at him In theory, yes. He slid the wings back into the device The glider can be used for deployment, but naturally, it cannot glide uphill. Youll have to carry it back up The Reach on foot, Im afraid. Again he pointed to the warder With that beauty, theres very little danger. Moving on. He went to pick up another device once hed put the glider down, but bumped into Edwin who was already grabbing one I want to play. He said, childishly. Alistair slapped Edwins hand away, scooping up the device he had been going for. It was small and square with a metallic casing, and two small, stubby barrels almost concealed on the end. This is a short range suppression device. Typically this is mounted on the wrist the warder is not. Im working on a prototype currently that combines all three functions but it wont be ready for deployment for months, maybe years. He strapped the device on The Suppressor uses two separate ammo caches to fire two different shot types. I recently bought rights to the powder filled bullet, a case that, when struck with a hammer, explodes and fires a projectile. Itd be used by The Wolfbane Pact instead of damn flintlock if the patent wasnt so expensive. He looked at the initiates, and saw he was losing them. He quickly cleared his throat and continued Ahem... to put it simply, this side uses bullets, and the other uses a compressed gas firing mechanism to launch a sedative tipped dart; a herbal compound known as azophene. It should knock most people out for two hours or so. Its easy to overdose on however, so dont fire more than one dart at a single target. He twisted a dial on the devices case, which lowered a pair of triggers and a round trigger guard from the bottom Just turn this knob and it reveals the trigger mechanism. This is a short range weapon, though. The barrels are short and itll be inaccurate over long range. We had to make short barrels to allow easy concealment. The bullets are also loud as farl so go easy on them if youre not trying to attract attention. Next. He unstrapped the suppressor and tossed it onto the table. He picked up a small mask-like object Nice and simple. This filter will allow you to breathe in noxious atmospheres. Sometimes youll have to delve into gas-filled mines, but these also fight some of the vapour-based weapons that the wranglers use. In fact, its their design. He put the filter down, next picking up a rubber coated cylindrical device with a glass lens. You cant hit what you cant see... well most of us cant, at least. He grinned at Wyatt for a moment So thats why we use these advanced torches. Within this container plug-in is a fragile glass box containing lumitek, and a metal ball bearing. Observe. He shook the torch vigorously. There was a slight cracking noise, and then a pool of light formed on the floor where the torch was pointing. He proceeded to move the torch around, bathing light on whatever it faced The metal ball shatters the oxygen-proof casing. The

lumitek then reacts with the air, creating this glowing reaction. It should last you an hour or two before it fades, and then youll need to replace the plug-in, like this. He unscrewed the top, removing the still glowing transparent box. You can also use this as a disposable flare. The external casing is shock absorbent, and should take whatever punishment you can throw at it. He lobbed the container against a wall. It thudded to the floor without even a dent. He placed the empty torch down. Finally, he picked up what appeared to be a fairly large pistol with some sort of metallic hook wedged into the barrel. Edwin and Saar paid close attention to this bit, evidently having not seen it before themselves. A little while ago, Edwin complained about how some areas were awkward to access. Sometimes you have to climb up cliff faces or quickly reach the roof of a building. I decided to create this hookshot to grant some ease. Essentially, it uses a compressed gas firing mechanism to launch this grapple hooked to a sturdy wire cable. The hook will cling to a tree branch or a ledge, and will allow you to climb without worrying about footholds and such. The device is almost silent, and the cable resistant to strain. With a press of a button, it can be reeled back into the wheel within. The recall button is not strong enough to reel you in with it, however. Its still in development. With any luck, Ill be able to achieve that function in time. He tossed the hookshot to Edwin, who caught it, eagerly. Oh ho, baby. He said, twirling it on his finger and pointing it up to one of the towering walls. He pulled the trigger, unleashing the grapple hook with great force. The gun flew back and smacked him in the face and he flopped onto the floor, cursing. The hook bounced off the wall, leaving a small crack, before clinking down against the tiles. Alistair clicked his fingers Theres also a small issue with the recoil. Ill get right on that. Son of a bitch! Edwin groaned through gritted teeth, his nose slightly bloodied. Alistair couldnt help but grin. He turned to Saar With your permission, Champion, I would like to return to my tower. Right. Does anyone have any questions for Alistair before he leaves? Vagrant raised a hand I have. Alistair folded his arms, a little irritated Yes? Will we be outfitted with the ivoryon armour, like the Champion? You create it, yes? Alistair nodded, lifting his goggles and staring I made the set. It took a lot of ivoryon, ivoryon we dont have right now. If we get some more then Ill think about it. You after a set, Vagrant? The sword helps as a focus point. The armour would aid in control. Is it true ivoryon is found on the peaks of The Reach? If so, I can locate some. Alistair laughed, folding arms That so? Well Lucian has been getting a little old for it. The winds almost took him last time he tried it. He was lucky Sonya saved him. If you want to take one of the starls and go climbing for Ivoryon, then I can gear you up for it.... If the champion allows it? he glanced to Saar Im sure she knows how much we need this... Id get it myself... but Im not climbing anything with this leg... Saar pondered for a moment. She looked Vagrant up and down, tapping her foot. Eventually, she came to a conclusion No. Well wait. Alistair objected He can do it. Look at him. Its not worth the risk. If ivoryon is what we need then The Reliquary will provide us with it. The Reliquary hasnt opened for fifteen years, champion... Can we really-... Enough. I made a decision. Youre dismissed. Alistair stared, before sighing and pulling down his goggles

As you wish, champion... he bowed quickly, and exited. Edwin dabbed his nose as he got to his feet, and Saar gestured to the series of gizmos and gadgets You have a few hours to practice with the gear. Feel free to use the target dummies. Well leave you to it. Meet us in the ley-training room in an hour. Were supervising todays session and teaching you a new trick. She and Edwin left. Wyatt and the other initiates were now alone with the wrangler devices. They all remained sat at their tables for a moment, before Lizzy, Wyatt and Anya all got up at once, storming to the table in race to get what they wanted. Vagrant just shook his head, disapprovingly. Ley Lesson One Hundred Upon entering the ley training chamber, something was immediately different. Not only was the room as cold as a Glacenox night, but a knee-high blanket of snow had formed on the floor, completely hiding it from sight. The water features had frozen, and white flakes casually floated through the air. Lizzy took a moment to roll in the snow and relax, her fur charred and burnt after a mishap with the warder device. Anya had a sedative dart sticking out from her hair, which she had yet to notice. In the rooms centre, miraculously perched on top of the fragile crust of snow, Saar and Edwin stood. As the group pushed their way through the thick layer to reach them, Saar began the briefing Youve learnt much on how to use the ley as a wild force of attack, but youve learnt less of the subtle alterations its capable of. If anything, these minor passive casts are even more difficult than the forceful, aggressive ones. Observe. She took a few steps across the snow, not leaving any prints This is a technique youve seen us perform on numerous occasions. It grants us maximum mobility in frozen weather, gives us the upper hand when retreating or fighting, and makes us virtually untraceable as there are no prints to follow... Assuming we operate in these conditions. Rime is covered with snow for over sixty percent of the entire year. Youd do well to make it your ally. She stomped her heel a few times, still leaving no mark To put it simply, the cast is a slight alteration on the density of the subject. It becomes thick and sturdy beneath our feet, and each step is a separate cast. Learning to perform this is easy, but learning to maintain it while you fight, think and talk can be something else all together. She approached, holding her hand down to Anya Come up. She said. Anya took the outstretched hand, and allowed the champion to pull her up onto the crust. She stood upon it, carefully, looking a little concerned. Edwin is currently holding you up. You know how to control your stronger casts, Anya, and I want you to direct that control into something smaller now. Focus on the snow beneath your boots. Feel it through them, and let your influence bind it to your use. Anya stared down for a moment ...How are you doing it without looking?... I am looking, in a sense. I know its there, because I see it stretch before me. Anya looked up again, narrowing her eyes on the snow Ok... ready. Edwin. Release. Edwin nodded. There was a muffled crunch as his cast faded. Anya remained standing on the snow, sinking very slowly. Her descent came to a stop, and she remained stationary. Good. Now, with that same focus... take a few steps. Anya took a single step, before plummeting through the snow, leaving a large woman-shaped hole in its surface. Lizzy and Wyatt giggled childishly, but stopped as soon as Saar offered her hands to them next Your turns. And shame on you, Wyatt Rook. Shes accomplished much more than you have. Wyatt groaned, taking Saars hand

and allowing her to pull him up You have a lot of catching up to do. Remember your stimuli, Wyatt. You need your anger to be in balance with your focus. You cant just think of a subject, you need to feel it. Dont think, just feel. You require a delicate equilibrium... a harmony. An Equil-what?! The moment he said that, he sunk through the snow and crumpled into a heap. Lizzy remained standing, wobbling a little with her arms stretched out. Wyatt popped his head out of the snow No fair! I wasnt ready! Saar raised her eyebrows Oh but you were, Rook. Edwin didnt aid this time. You stood beside me with no assistance... You failed when you were distracted. The art in this lesson will be coping with your distractions while maintaining this cast. Try again. Vagrant, you too. Combat Lesson One Hundred The sound of ivoryon blades clashing dominated the combat chamber. Three separate fights were currently taking place. With no fenrye to compete with today, Anya sadly had to settle with Elizabeth. The two of them were currently engaged in fast paced slashing, with Lizzy making use of her acrobatic style and her tiny ivoryon claws, and Anya using her slightly brutish one handed axe. Vagrant was keeping some heavy pressure on Edwin, forcing him to take steps back every few blows. Vagrants swing was, more often than not, incredibly difficult to block or parry without buckling to some of the force. The only effective way to beat him was to move quickly, and Edwin was currently trying to find an opening. The two of them had a win/lose ratio that practically matched, so their fights were always interesting to watch. Wyatt meanwhile was facing off against Saar, and their win/lose ratio literally couldnt be more different; it was zero to fifty seven, in Saars favour. The fights got closer every time, however, and Wyatt felt he wasnt far from a lucky victory. Currently, things were not going his way. Saar was practically toying with him, disarming him every few attacks and kicking his daggers away. She wasnt wearing her armour today, and even then she was still unstoppable. It was frustrating, to say the least, perhaps even frustrating enough to use a leycast. Unfortunately, freezing training partners mid combat was perceived as unsporting amongst the others. Wyatt recovered his blades for what felt like the twentieth time, gripping them even firmer this time. He allowed a moment for Edwin and Vagrant to pass by him, Edwin now slashing so fast that even Vagrant couldnt stand firm. Come on, Rook! Saar said, falling into an elegant defensive stance, her long, thin blade poised beside her ear If I was a bandit, youd be dead by now. If you were a bandit, Id have pulled an Anya* by now Saar grinned, slowly moving her sword behind her back Look. Im open. Wyatt quickly charged, slashing his daggers from different directions and delivering a flurry of uppercuts, overhead swings and horizontal slashes. Saar twirled and blocked every one, before kicking Wyatts left dagger away and pulling his right one into a lock. It was a lock he was familiar with, and he countered it with a forward push, slamming Saar onto her back. She kicked him off where he rolled away behind her. Wyatt scrambled for his dagger, but cursed as he felt the tip of a sword on the back of his neck Dead. Again. The sword was lifted away, and Wyatt wiped his brow, going to grab his spare dagger and preparing for another humiliating defeat. *Pulling an Anya is a technique that involves shooting a target rather than engaging them in melee combat. After 777 LW, the term became famous, although still had an unknown origin.

He took a moment to review the progress of the other fights. Anya currently had Lizzy in a grab, holding her at arms length and attempting to squeeze the life out of her. Lizzy easily escaped by jabbing her claws into Anyas hand. She dropped to the floor, bounding off a nearby wall and landing behind her opponent, scratching her claws together and generating a few white sparks. He then glanced to Vagrant and Edwin just fast enough to see Edwin plunge his sword straight through Vagrants chest. Vagrant yelled with pain, falling to his knees, blood dripping from his wound. Edwin yanked the sword out, nodding over at Doctor Preston who had been waiting on the sidelines. Good fight, man. You had me on the ropes there. Vagrant responded with a lightly choked sentence Im not done.... In one quick movement, he stood up and cleaved an enormous wound down Edwins centre. Edwin staggered on the spot for a moment, twitching ....Son of a bitch... he said, before collapsing. Vagrant laughed, languidly holding up a middle finger as the ice enveloped him. He remained a taunting statue as Preston moved his and Edwins frozen bodies from the ring, ready for healing. Well that was new... Saar stated, unfazed. Lets switch out, Rook. Ill fight Lizzy for a bit. Wyatt shook his head No! I can do this. Im sure you can, Wyatt, but not yet. Youll never learn anything if youre outmatched every game. Besides, wasnt it you that told me theres a strength in knowing when to lower your blade? Wyatt nodded, spinning the daggers in his hand It was... and I know that time hasnt come yet. Saar sighed Alright. Lets make it interesting then. No more games. If I win, youre joining Vagrant and Edwin. Wyatt nodded. Such a fate did not bother him any longer. Saar sunk into an attack position, and charged. Wyatt quickly found himself analysing her movements and mentality. He followed her eye line; she saw an opening overhead. Wyatt quickly raised a dagger to block the predicted attack, before lunging forward with his second. Saar grabbed his wrist and twisted it painfully. The speed in which she made the counter was extraordinary. Wyatt quickly rolled over Saars shoulders to relieve the twist, kicking the back of her legs and stabbing the blade downwards. She crouched low, avoiding the attack before turning and upper cutting Rook with her fist. Rooks jaw clicked unhealthily. He crashed onto the floor, but had no time to recover, as Saar was already over him, bringing her blade down. He rolled aside quickly, the blade sticking in the stone floor. He quickly directed a strong kick at the sword, sending it skidding across the floor. She was disarmed. He was so close. Confident, he quickly stood and charged, slashing multiple times at her torso. Saar bobbed and weaved, eventually catching Rook with a one-two punch. Anya and Lizzy had stopped fighting, and were watching intensely now. Saar went to grab her blade, but Rook stopped her, moving in her path and slicing the air around her as she nimbly evaded. As Rook stabbed both of his blades forward, she brought her elbow down on his right one, hard. His dagger fell to the floor, and although his left dagger inflicted a minor injury, Saar was able to grab it with both hands, twist it against Rook and ram it into his ribs. Wyatt grunted. The pain was something hed never get used to. Hed been so close. He fell onto his back, the cold already building. Saar removed the dagger, before checking the wound on her chest Its been a long time since I saw my own blood, Wyatt... Wyatt coughed, a trickle of red departing his lips

Dont... worry... its only a... scratch... he coughed Pansy... Saar smiled. Her warm expression was a friendly final sight before the cold dark took him once more. ***** It never took more than a few hours to recover from life threatening wounds. The feeling that followed afterwards was a mixture of unpleasant, penetrating cold, and something that can only be described as a slight high, or rush. It wasnt particularly disorientating, but it did have a way of making Wyatt feel he could beat the hell out of any living thing in the world until it wore off. As it happened, there currently no were living things around, so he had to settle with pathetic inanimate objects. As soon as he left the doctors surgery, hed gone back down to the combat room again and was currently hacking away at a wooden dummy with rotating arms. When striking an arm, you had to be aware of the force created, as it would often result in a second swinging arm to come at your flank. The dummies demanded quick defensive and offensive technique, so they were perfect for someone with Rooks fighting style. He needed to be faster, stronger. That was the only way hed ever beat Saar. Hed come too far to quit now, and if these past few months had taught him anything, it was that giving up was something hed left behind. Hed stared at that block for days on end, and faced defeat nearly sixty times, but finally he was starting to see results. That said, he was still quite far behind on his leytraining. Apparently the key to his abilities lay somewhere within his memories, but he couldnt think of any memories that invoked a hostile rage within him. Hed tried thinking of the time Grieves had shot him, but itd been his own damn fault for dealing with him in the first place. Hed thought of the state of the kingdom, and the way wranglers had stolen his best friend, but it made him sad more than anything. There were only so many times he could ask his peers and superiors to infuriate him before even that became ineffective. Maybe Saar had been wrong. Maybe he wasnt destined for anything special. Lost in thought momentarily, Wyatt was stricken by several of the dummys spinning limbs. He audibly said the words Ow ow ow ow! over and over, hissing through his teeth and rubbing his bicep and ribs. Touch, wooden dummy. You were a worthy adversary. Wyatt would pick this up when his mind was less preoccupied. In truth, he should have probably been practicing his ley casts more than anything. In terms of combat, he was doing quite well. No one had even come close to beating Saar for several years, according to the doctors. Hed been so kind as to promise he would send her to them soon. He was nice like that. Wyatt grabbed his sleeper coat from the back of one of the classroom chairs and headed to the door. Hed had enough alone time for today. Perhaps hed go hang out with the starls in the western tower. He found their company quite enjoyable. They liked the simple things in life, like food, toys and equality. Hed been teaching Rogue to read in secret every few evenings. The bird was too proud to allow the lessons to go public. Pushing open the heavy chamber door, the voices of Lucian and Elizabeth immediately came into earshot. Theyd just gone round the corner, but these large open halls carried their voices in the way a theatre would. The two of them were likely discussing the private lessons Lizzy was taking. Wyatt shut the door, quite loudly, so as to alert the two vermus of his presence nearby, but they didnt stop talking. He only eavesdropped when it was absolutely necessary... which was surprisingly often. Im still not sure what you mean... Youre saying therere other Rimes? Lizzy asked.

In a sense. There are other Rimes, but they are all in this space. They are not amongst the stars, merely parallel to our own interpretation. There exists an infinite array of alternate realities, different only by individual timelines amassed into a single great event. Each of these timelines differ, in either miniscule or astronomical ways. Every time we make a decision, or an event subject to probability occurs, a pair of new timelines is created, one in which we said yes, and one where we said no. One where there was success and one where there was failure. One where you ate white bread, and one where you settled for brown. Wow, this was one conversation Wyatt would be glad to get away from. He tried to drown out what he was hearing by playing a jaunty tune in his own mind How can you know that? I dont know it in the sense that I know how many seeds were in the piece of fruit you ate this morning... eleven. Ten... Lizzy corrected him. There were eleven. You ate one by accident... Anyway, I dont know it, but its a theory nonetheless... And its one supported by your existence. What?... Wyatt moved around the corner, and the pair of vermus came into sight. Theyd stopped in their tracks, and Lizzy was giving Lucian a confused look. Lucian nodded to Wyatt as he walked by them and down the corridor of portraits towards the western tower. Evening, Master Rook. You can call me Rook, bud. Dont need to be so formal. As you wish, Rook. Miss Forktongue, well talk about this another time. Im afraid Im, as the good people of Glascan would say; knackered. I must retire.... Hrrrm.. Retire... that reminds me of my retirement party... it was tame to begin with but then my previous employer set himself on fire... an accident involving the candles on a cake and a particularly flammable fleece. Wyatt found himself walking at a quicker pace to get away from another tall tale. He could practically feel Elizabeths eyes burning a hole in the back of his head. He got to get away while she had to stay and listen. Priceless.

Chapter Nineteen The War Within

Two Hundred and Ten Days Ago So this is it. On the one hundred and fiftieth day in a Palecallers training, the biggest guns are pulled out for you to play with. Today is the day your scheduled training comes to an end, and you, assuming it all goes to plan, become honorary and full members of Palthgars secret force. You will no longer be an initiate, and the generation above yours will be considered equal, other than Saar, of course, who I assume is still champion at the time you relive this message. This is a life changing moment, Wyatt. Many have gone through this process before you and Ive read and heard dozens of accounts. Nobody comes out the same. Perhaps youll be the first to do so, with your stubborn attitude and closed-minded mentality, but you know, you and I arent that different. There was a time where I was rebellious, and... eh... free spirited but you know what? That didnt get me anywhere. Its your own time youre wasting, son. ...Teachers used to say that a lot to me. To be fair, I never really understood what they meant. It was my time. I was doing what I wanted with it, ergo, it was not wasted. What a counterproductive argument. ...Please dont say that to the champion if she uses that particular phrase. Im trying to help you, not damn you. Anyway, I have a list here of the feats an initiate is expected to perform on their final day of monitored training. I had to have Oswald write it down for me. Couldnt do it myself, you know? Ghost hands. I was thinking about telling you but... it might be more interesting for you to find out first hand. I know I always hated people spoiling the ends of stories for me, and what is your development if not one big novel? You will be expected to hold a degree of respect today... no, not just a degree... several degrees. This is your final, and in a way, your most important lessons. Today you will learn some of the Palecallers greatest techniques, and their biggest secret... Tantalising... Indeed, it is this secret that must be held from the world above all else. There are some things the world simply will not accept. Rime... she has not aged well. In the day in which we live and die, even a shred of the unknown is just a catalyst for more fear, anger, and conflict. Oswald isnt so sure. We spoke about this for hours. He thinks maybe the people are ready for our return but... even if that was true, its not about what theyre ready for anymore. Its about who has the sharpest sword and the loudest rifle. We live in times of war... weapons have developed faster than any other field of technology. The people of Sovreignous and The Scarred Lands are becoming soldiers at birth and dog tags at death. A civilisation trapped in a state of perpetual, gruelling battle. That, my son, is something to be feared... Think of what well be capable of in twenty... thirty years. By the time youre recruiting the next generation, will there be any of Rime left? How far is the world from constructing weapons of literal mass murder? The true fruits of warfare...are perhaps something no amount of ley can stop... Our blades are tempered with blood. Our armour inlaid with skin. Sooner or later, somethings got to give. For now, dont light the fuse on this powder keg. These secrets go with you to your grave, Wyatt... Unless your secrets want out, personally.

Present Day Another warm Palthgar morning had risen, juxtapositioning nicely with the deathly and lethal cold that ravaged the world beyond the walls. A few servants had made breakfast, as they usually did. They were allowed days off whenever they wished to take one, but they had likely been warned not to abuse this right. The kitchen was divided off from the dining area with a small, easily accessible bar. There were around four servants currently behind it, cooking on a range of stoves and recovering food from ley-glazed iceboxes. Wyatt was the first into the kitchen today, closely followed by Vagrant. One hundred and fifty days in, and Vagrant still seemed almost as bleak as ever. It was nice to hear him laugh or peak a smile, but these occurrences were few and far between. Good morning, callers. Welcomed Roderick, a male human butler amongst the staff and one of the few considered to be an upper servant, granting him authority over the others. He usually oversaw small domestic operations like this to make sure everything was going well. In a nobles house, it was common sense to not even acknowledge a lower servants presence, but Wyatt was no noble. Hey people! He called, cheerily. They all called back, creepily simultaneously as they always did Good morning, Master Rook! Their discipline never ceased to unsettle him. Take a seat, callers. Roderick humbly requested, waving two of his underlings to pull out a couple of chairs Will Miss Hrongmar and Miss Forktongue be joining us? Yes they will. Lizzys voice sounded out as she came through the door with Anya. Today Lizzy was wearing some rough leather overalls, complete with a cloak and a hood. Wyatt had no idea where she was getting all these outfits, but he suspected Lucian was bringing them back for her. She had a longbow strapped over her shoulder, a weapon shed never before taken an interest in. Roderick had two more chairs readied, and the four initiates sat. Their food was brought to them with the grace and impeccable timing theyd come to expect. Atop the plates were fried bread, some thin strips of scim hog bacon, and some quail eggs. Wyatt had never much cared for table manners, but he was a gentlemen compared to the way Anya ate. It was like she didnt even know what a knife and fork was, and how was she coping so well in eating fried quail eggs with her hands? It would be impressive if it wasnt so irritating. As the four of them ate, Roderick approached with a note Theres been a slight change of schedule today, callers. The Champion asked that I deliver this message to you. As your handlers may have told you in their messages, today is your one hundred and fiftieth day of training. Tradition states that it is to be your last officially tutored sessions. After today, youll be capable of performing market duty, and will be ready for deployment. He unfolded the note, and the others stopped eating for a moment to listen (except for Anya, who continued stuffing her face.) Ah, your theory session has been replaced and moved. Youll begin with ley training and will move onto combat. Your new unnamed session shall be later in the evening. The spirits of the market have been informed of todays significance, and have agreed to allow the callers a day off so they might all spectate. He tucked the note away You must be very excited. He quickly backtracked Eh, not that Im ordering you to be excited, callers. I am here to serve. He bowed, somewhat unnecessarily Please enjoy your meal. The Champion is expecting you at the ley training chamber in fifteen minutes. Again, he bowed, even more unnecessarily, before moving back into the kitchen. Anya just waved in the direction the butler had departed in, asking with her mouth full

What did he just say?... He said lessons as normal, Anya. Lizzy answered, innocently. You really should pay more attention... Vagrant covered his face and Wyatt contained a laugh. He glanced to Lizzys plate. She was toying with the bacon with her fork, frowning at it, like it had done something wrong. Aint hungry, Princess? Lizzy just pushed her plate away I dont eat meat... Wyatt frowned, pulling the plate over You always eat meat. I dont. Ive never eaten it... She rubbed her own head, before hopping from her chair. Ill see you there, you three. She pulled up her hood and walked out of the room. Wyatt tucked into her spare food. Anya finished her plate next and wiped the caked on remains from her mouth. See you in the combat room. She barked, before belching loudly and leaving. Wyatt laughed quietly into his hand whilst Vagrant stared at him. She is going to humiliate herself. Why do you find this humorous?... Wyatt just gestured wildly Because its funny. Think about it. Vagrant continued eye him. Eventually, the tiniest of smiles crept onto his face. He hid it away even faster than it appeared, and exited the room without another word. Wyatt giggled at this reaction, finishing up Lizzys bacon pieces and calling to the servants Thanks, folks! Peace out! He jogged out of the room as he heard the perfect chorus call after him. Good bye, Master Rook! Ley Lesson One Hundred and Fifty The ley training chamber had kept its blanket of snow for initiates to practice on for the past fifty days. Learning to stand upon it and even walk across it had been fairly easy; even Wyatt had picked it up after five sessions. Learning to perform other leycasts while maintaining the passive one however was far more tricky. Wyatt was still having trouble conjuring up even basic aggressive casts without some form of infuriating stimulus. He could freeze the tiny block with ease now, thanks to a memory he used. Oddly, the one hed settled on had been Anyas story. The horrific things shed told him angered him to a degree if he really considered it. Without actually experiencing such an enraging event, however, he was still at a loss when it came to recollecting something significant. Volke, Vulpe, Lucian, Edwin and Saar were all waiting for the initiates to arrive. Even Kingsly and Orphus had joined them, and were watching from the sidelines. One by one, Lizzy, Vagrant and Wyatt lined up before the callers. Naturally, they were confused about Anyas absence Wheres grumpy girl? Edwin asked. Pretty sure the champion sent her a direct order. Shell be here soon. Wyatt said She probably just got lost or something... Its been five months. Vulpe stated If she is still getting lost then she is mentally.... eh... how you say? Disabled, dear. Edwin assisted. Yes. Disabled. Kingsly rolled his eyes I shall go fetch her, champion. Saar gave him the go ahead with a nod, and Kingsly vanished. Two minutes later, Anya stormed in. She made an aggressive bee-line straight towards Lizzy, who squeaked and dived into the snow, disappearing from sight. Anya growled, beginning to shovel the snow away, hunting for her prey. Anya. Enough. Saar ordered. You can fight her later. Anya stopped digging, reluctantly. She stood in line and followed her order

Yes, champion. She said. Lizzy popped her hooded head out of the snow to check for the allclear. Once she knew it was safe, she climbed out and retook her position. Theres one final important leycast they we havent yet taught to you. Its a pale cast, so bear in mind its a hybrid of both cryo and necroley. Weve spoken about it on multiple occasions, but it hasnt been until now that wed like to provide you with the tools you need. Lucian? The old vermus reached into his coat pockets, pulling out three ivoryon keys, all of them encrusted and engraved in a similar way to Wyatts. He approached, giving one key each to Vagrant, Anya and Elizabeth. He simply nodded at Wyatt, who took the signal, unstrapping his own key from his belt. Each generation, there is a keyholder who opens the gates of Palthgar upon the first arrival. Until this day, however, the rest of you are not granted access to a key to The Door. It is an asset in your development, a simple precaution that disallows you from overworking yourself before youre prepared. I now have confidence that you are ready... She took out her own key. The ivoryon key you hold is a focal point, nothing more. In the way your ivoryon weapons and armour allow for easier casting, so does this key. Unlike the weapons , however, there is something particular about this cast that almost requires a focal point. Most of us find it impossible to open the door without the key. Most of us? Lizzy asked. Saar looked at Vulpe, who broke away from the group Vulpe here is in tune with The Pale in a way the rest of us will likely never reach. She should be, in all respects, dead... Vulpe raised her hand, before twisting her wrist. Four doors weaved into existence and burst open simultaneously. The initiates shielded their eyes and backed away. We are old, and we lack the time to reach the same level as Vulpe has. Perhaps, if you four are willing... you can become as powerful as she. Vulpe yanked her hand back, and all four doors closed, shattering into dissolving, ethereal shards. As a personal note, initiates... Vulpe began I would not recommend it. The Goddess smiles upon me, and grants me good fortune. The risk is perhaps not worth the reward, dremkrek. Her glowing, smoking eyes closed for a moment You... lose sense. Not the sense of your mind, but of touch, of taste... It can... be very sad. She opened them again, returning to the other senior callers. Saar smiled at her, before beginning the lesson in full Now. The Devils Door is incredibly dangerous, not just to your enemies, but to you as well. If you pass through your own door, or the door of your ally, you will not, I repeat, will NOT be coming back. For this session, I would have you divided for maximum safety. Please take secluded positions around the space. The initiates dispersed. Wyatt headed over to his favourite corner, the one hed accidently frozen in his anger. Good. Now this leycast is not like the others. It isnt about feeling the power within you, but the power within the realm you command. You are merely opening a door. You do not create the realm beyond it. The group seemed to be watching Wyatt almost exclusively. They must have had high expectations after hearing how hed performed this cast before. Look to your key, initiates. Saar continued. They all obeyed Feel the ley within it. Feel the ley within the space around it. The air is not air. It is another tool for Glaces power to reach through... The words echoed in his mind, first in Saars voice, then in Lincolns. Hear it call. It calls to you. She drew her blade, and the other callers around her did the same. They all struck their weapons, allowing the ivoryon chiming to fill the room. As it had done before, the resonating humming breached Wyatts mind. It quickly consumed his thoughts, and all he heard was its call. ...They call to us... he whispered to himself, before thrusting the key forward and turning. Streams of light spread out from the keys tip, quickly forming the shape of a metal, bolted door. He

yanked the key back, moving away a little as the form swung open, slowly. Light blasted out from within, and the whispers of the deceased temporarily engulfed him. He felt truly at peace for the first time in months, contently staring into the unknown. But... something was wrong. The door flickered, and several silhouettes formed within it. The whispers became horrible, ear piercing shrieks. For several seconds, the most terrible screams and wails emanated from the door itself. The silhouettes became more solid, eyeless, bleeding sockets coming into view. A single, withered hand reached out from within. WYATT! he wasnt sure where the voice came from, but he turned to see Volkes fist flying for his face. He collapsed into the snow, and the voices ebbed away with his consciousness. Hes coming to. Give me your sword... Hes of no threat, sister... calm yourself... Wyatt... can you hear me?... Rook dazedly opened his eyes. The five senior callers were crouching over him. His face hurt a little, no doubt from where the fenrye had struck him. A few drops of his blood stained the snow around him; it looked to be a slight nosebleed, nothing serious. Saar sighed with relief Wyatt... Youre alright. What.... What happened? Wyatt uttered. He turned his head to see Vagrant, Anya and Lizzy standing nearby, looking very shaken. Your door... changed. You opened it with a single attempt... You opened it before you received training during your time in bandit captivity... Wyatt this has only been achieved by one man in the history of our order. The same man who could cast blind... the same man who used his rage to decimate his foes... ...Gray Koramas?... Wyatt asked. Hed always assumed, but hed never actually inquired as to who this individual he was turning into actually was. To his disappointment, Saar shook her head No... Wyatt... She looked to her colleagues around her, before saying, coldly Morgarth Farl... What? Lizzy said, jogging over Morgarth Farl was not a Palecaller! Lucian sighed, turning to Elizabeth He was. We made sure history never acquired this fact, however... In attainable lore, it states Morgarth Farl lived and raised his army in the now sectioned off town of Aaemus... while its true he was born there, and its true he was born upon a necroley line... he was also born upon a cryoley one... He returned to Aaemus... after hed trained at Palthgar... Vagrant grinded his teeth, stepping forward Then The Palecallers are responsible for the largest incident of mass murder this world has ever seen. You should have told us this sooner. What you did was borderline genocide. Saar shook her head, trying to reason with him We stopped the war, Vagrant. We ended his reign. None of the callers present could have anticipated Farls downfall. He was... corrupted... by something... something we never discovered. She widened her eyes, quickly grabbing Wyatt by his shirt and pulling him so their faces were almost touching Wyatt. This is important and you have to tell me the truth... Have you ever performed a necroley cast?... Wyatt remained silent for several seconds. Hed always assumed Zachery had told them. Six months ago...A fenrye was about to impale me... I raised my hand at him, and he fell dead... I... I thought you knew. The callers all exchanged worried looks

Where? Where did this happen? Saar asked, quickly. ...Lakebank, on the docks. She pointed to Vulpe Get down to Lakebank now. Wyatt sat up. Edwin placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, subtly. He felt a little hurt, but didnt object. Vulpe acknowledged the command before sprinting off out of the room. Whats going on, Champion?... Saar sighed and rubbed her eyes Nothing yet, Wyatt... Nothing yet. We know what were dealing with now. We wont let anything happen to you, I swear. Its important that if anything tries to influence your actions, or speaks to you in a manner that might lead to a form of corruption... you tell us immediately. Has this ever happened before?... Wyatt thought back to his dream. To his exorcism performed by two witnesses who had now both left this world. He then glanced to the readied sword at Edwins side ....No. No, nothing like that... Saar sighed with relief Good. Make sure you tell us if something happens. Dont perform any necroley casts ever again. As for The Devils Door... well find a way to help you control it. What happened to my door?... I opened it before and nothing like that happened. Wyatt asked. He still felt a little sick. To put it simply, The Door is just that, a door. Normally, we ensure its a one way passage... but your door... it was two way. We have no idea what lies within that light, Wyatt... but weve cast a lot of ugly things into it... We cant let them escape... ...And Farls doors?... They did the same thing... The difference was, he learnt to control it... he could access the afterlife at will... bring through spirits... They became his own personal agents... his own pet omens... He used them to combat our forces, and to eradicate witnesses without stirring suspicion. Wyatt fell quiet. He felt the persecution lashing at him from every pair of eyes (or single eye) in the room. When Vulpe gets back, shell schedule some private sessions with you. With her help, your doors will remain uncorrupted. For now, Wyatt, Im confiscating your key and ordering you do not open another door without supervision. Wyatt nodded with a sour expression, placing his fathers ivoryon key in Saars outstretched hand. After a sigh, he asked Why did you send Vulpe to Lakebank?... Necroley casts have an uncanny knack of forcing echoes to manifest... Its been six months since you made that kill... he could be a venger by now... or worse. She pulled Wyatt to his feet, placing a hand on his shoulder Dont worry. Shell take care of it. Well make you a Palecaller yet, Wyatt Rook... one your father would be proud of. Wyatt smiled, very weakly. Go and get some rest, Wyatt. Well see you again at the combat session. She turned to the others As for you three, back to your positions. Weve got some doors to open. Combat Lesson One Hundred and Fifty After hed had a bit of time to recuperate, Wyatt joined the others again for the final official combat lesson. As before, every caller and the two handlers had joined the four of them, and were currently all standing around the combat ring. Both doctors had joined them now as well. Good. Youre all here. Saar began Wyatt, are you well enough to fight? Wyatt nodded Yes, champion. Good. Now usually to save time we skip formalities and throw you all in the ring at once. Today well be doing one on one fights as we did on your first day. We shall be reviewing your technique

and studying your areas of improvement. This will help us fully establish an understanding of your strengths and weaknesses, and well know where youre needed when deployment comes around. Well be using ivoryon weapons. We will accept yields today. This is about fighting, not dying. Youve all touched the grave enough times to understand its benefit, Im sure. She raised a finger, pointing at each initiate in turn and pondering Hrm... Elizabeth, why dont you go first? I noticed you have a bow. I can use a dagger, champion. She said. Wyatt plucked one of his own blades from its sheath and handed it down to Lizzy. She took it, a little clumsily; the blade was not made for someone of her size. And who would you like to fight? Lucian, champion. Very well. Lucian drew his rapier and walked into the ring. It was always fun watching Lucian fight, but sadly quite rare. He was more there to handle the theoretical sides of things. His style was very similar to Vinces, but with a stronger focus on defensive counters. Lucian was excellent at playing his opponents mistakes to his advantage. Lizzy faced off with her vermus counterpart. It was easy to assume the two of them were good friends by this point, they were often seen together. You two may begin when ready. Fight to win, but winning is not what were looking for here, initiates. Weve been doing this a lot longer than you. You cant expect to beat someone with so many years at their backs every time. Lucian bent his back leg, falling into a poised striking position with his sword pointed parallel to the floor and ceiling. He would lunge at the first opportunity he had. Lizzy held the dagger downwards along her wrist to give her a slicing capability. She would attack first, as Lucian would always wait. Lizzy bounded forward and leapt over the initial lunge. She landed behind Lucian, just out of range of his blade. Still Lucian remained stationary, waiting for his opportunity. Lizzy edged closer, inch by inch. She quickly dummied a step, causing Lucian to stab forward into thin air. Lizzy punished the mistake, slashing the rapier aside and charging forward, smacking Lucian with the hilt of the dagger and making several cut attempts. The old vermus weaved, his vermus spine allowing for fluid movements. He tried to bring back his range, but Lizzy kept the pressure applied, still slicing, snipping the edges from his fur and whiskers as he dodged. Lucian needed the distance for his rapier to work. At this range, he would lose. As Lizzy brought her blade towards Lucians flank with a horizontal stab, Lucian finally caught her wrist, the blade inches from his body. He grabbed and twisted, forcing Lizzy to front flip to counter the twist. Lucian quickly yanked her back and tossed her over his own head. Granting him the space he needed to deliver a lightning fast sequence of fastfencing stabs. Lizzy slashed rapidly like she was trying to fight a swarm of insects, parrying the stabs. She smacked the sword away from her just long enough to pull her bow from her back and toss it at Lucians head. It fell over his body, the string and wooden limbs of the bow stopping at his tail and legs, restricting his movements. Lizzy quickly dashed around Lucian, getting behind him and going for his back. Lucian pulled the bow up, turning quickly and trapping the dagger in the bows string. He twisted the bow several times, disarming Lizzy with the tension before shoulder barging her across the room. Lizzy slid along the floor, while Lucian casually pulled the bow off his body and tossed it aside. He kicked the dagger out of the ring, raising his sword and pointing it towards Lizzys heart You can come back from this, Elizabeth. Youve come back from worse. He said, tauntingly. Elizabeth nodded, pondering I suppose I have. Can you think of times when other people have come back from worse, Lucian?... Lucian lowered the sword, tapping his chin

It does remind me of an incident that occurred within The Steambreach. One of my expedition teammates had been surrounded by skalds... now skalds are usually harmless but he may have accidently trodden upon one of their young. Anywho, we knew he was in trouble wh-... Lucian blinked. His own sword was now pointed at his throat. Lucian sighed, raising his hands I yield... Lizzy grinned, passing the blade back to Lucian You taught me to play my opponents weaknesses. I taught you a little too well, Elizabeth. The two of them turned to Saar Do you have what you need, champion? Saar gave a thumbs up I do. Thank you, you two. Lets continue with Anya next... Anya walked into the ring I assume Ill be sending in Volke? Anya stared at Volke, before looking over her shoulder at Wyatt. She hesitated for a moment, before saying ...Nah. Ill take Edwin. Wyatt nodded at her as Edwin widened his eyes, pointing to himself and saying in a dreadfully sarcastic tone Me?! Why, I dont know what to say!? Who to thank!? Well primarily of course, Id like to thank myself, for being so great. He drew his sword, entering the arena and standing opposite Anya. Thats it, really. Just me. Anya gave Volke another look. The fenrye bowed his head Fight well, cazak. She looked back to Edwin, plucking her axe from her belt. Edwin took one look at the heavy blade, and scratched his head, chuckling nervously You know, weve never actually fought before. I really really like this sword, so could you uh, not smash it? You could always simply not let her, pork scratching... Volke said But if you would rather use manners than force, then by all means, continue. Edwin gulped, readying his blade. You may begin. Saar called out. Anya didnt even hesitate, charging forward, leaping to build momentum and slashing the blade down towards Edwin. He dived and rolled away, shouting something inconceivable, quickly recovering in time to counter a second swing and smack Anya away with a back hand. He applied pressure, slashing multiple times before going for a leg sweep. Anya stomped on his leg before it could trip her and kicked Edwins chin, sending him thudding onto the floor. He sat up, rubbing his leg for a moment Ow. Thats it. No more mister nic... Ah crap... Anya was already diving at him before he could finish. He bounded forward and slid between her legs, catching her back with a horizontal slice. Anya didnt make a sound as the wound opened, simply turning and continuing the fight, relentlessly. She smashed viciously at Edwins blocking sword, forcing him to back away to absorb the force of the swings. Anya kicked Edwins chest, before twirling around three hundred and sixty degrees, building up enough momentum with her weapon to level a brick wall. She caught Edwins sword, and a small shockwave pulsed outward from the clashing blades, carrying a wave of dust across the chamber. The ivoryon chiming was louder than a church bell for a few seconds. Their blades now locked, Edwin spotted the tiniest of notches Anyas attack had cut into his sword. Angered, he used this notch to his advantage, forcing Anyas axe away from her hands and slashing for her chest. Anya hopped backwards, her axe landing a few metres away. Stop. Saar ordered. Edwin froze, still poised for his winning strike. Im allowing leycasts for the remainder of this match. Both doctors immediately objected Uh, champion! Are you sure?! Its not ivoryon... the results could be-... They will be fine. Do not worry. Anya, Edwin, you may continue, and dont hold back. Edwin twirled his sword, some glowing blue energy pulsing through the veins on his wrists. He charged, the

floor freezing up a little as he did so. Anya took a quick step back, leaving a frozen statue of herself in her path, which Edwin sliced in half, only to be met by Anyas fist coming through the other side. Edwin flew backwards, giving Anya enough time to grab her axe and fire a barrage of icy projectiles at her opponent. Edwin conjured up a large glacial shield which absorbed the attacks, before exploding outwards, sending bladed shards in Anyas direction. Anya span her axe before her rapidly, deflecting the spikes. She charged, only to be rooted in place by a mass of ice at her feet, cast by Edwin. Edwin attacked her while she was static, and she was forced to parry, block and dodge desperately. She locked her axe to Edwins blade, forcing it down to his flank and grabbing his free arm. The two of them secured a gaze, a pale blue light forming in both of their free hands. A humming filled the room, before the two of them were both enveloped in a blinding blaze. The onlookers covered their eyes, their hair and long cloaks being flung out behind them with the gale that emanated from the epicentre. When the light died down, a pair of frozen callers stood silently, both still staring at one another with fury. They were trapped within a flawless, glacial prison. A tie?... Lizzy asked. Saar raised a hand Just... wait. Ten seconds passed with no signs of life, then twenty, then thirty. When they reached the one minute mark, cracks started appearing in the glassy tombs that trapped Edwin and Anya. The fissures spread rapidly, harsh, sharp sounds to signal each new rupture. Suddenly, Anyas prison exploded. She burst out from the cage with a barbaric battle roar, snapping her axe away from the clash and leaving it embedded just inches from Edwins neck in the ice. Anya wins. Saar said, proudly. Edwins ice detonated a few seconds later, but the moment he saw Anya looming over him, he knew hed lost. ...Beaten by a girl... he said, sadly a girl that isnt Saar... Saar is no girl. Volke said, with quite a cheeky grin. I am not even sure she is human... Saar snorted, tapping her nose, secretively. Besides, lambchop... most of the females from my homeland could cut you down nicely... like a lambchop. Anya helped Edwin up I heard your sword screaming... Edwin sulkily looked at his blade Ill have to get Alistair to patch her up... Hope youre happy, she-beast. I am. I am. Edwin just rolled his eyes, returning to the rim of the ring. Anya did the same, giggling under her breath. Anya hadnt had a good win for a while, what with her usually losing to Volke. Wyatt was happy for her. Who wants to go next? Saar asked. Wyatt opened his mouth to volunteer, but Vagrant did it faster. I shall fight. He gestured to Volke Him. Edwin drew in a sharp breath Careful, puppyman. That boy is nasty. Volke grinned, cracking his knuckles and padding into the ring, where fragments of ice were currently melting. Vagrant drew his enormous sword, propping it onto his shoulder and approaching Volke. This would be interesting. Vagrant and Volke had only fought twice in the past, and both times it had been quite inconclusive with no real winners. Youll probably need a weapon for this, Volke. Saar warned from the sidelines. Volke rolled his eyes. He reached into his pockets, rummaging for something of use, eventually pulling out a small ivoryon chain with a pendant on the end. He carefully removed the pendent and held the little chain in one paw, ready. ...Seriously?... Lizzy questioned Thats it? Shh. Hushed Saar No casts unless I give the go ahead. You may both begin when ready. Neither of them moved. Volke did however begin to pace after a few seconds crept by

I see a caution in your eye... I see a fear... But not of this... there is no fear in this... No... No fear in this... Vagrant pulled his hood up, shrouding his eye from sight Youve seen nothing. Ive seen too much... and with that, he slammed his sword onto the floor and dragged it along behind him as he charged, creating a flurry of sparks. Volke didnt move an inch, waiting, patiently Have you seen an omen? he said, grinning wildly. Vagrant roared, upper cutting with lethal force. Volke caught the slash with his chain, allowing the swing to lift him into the air and over Vagrants head. He landed on his feet, lashing for Vagrants spine with his clawed hands. He struck the central vertebrae twice, before Vagrant swung around, narrowly missing a dodging Volkes nose. Dont aim for the head! Saar warned. Vagrant continued to strike, quite slowly but with extreme force. Volke dodged from left to right, occasionally moving back and jabbing a punch at Vagrants face and chest when opportunities opened up. Vagrant moved back before rushing forward for an overhead strike. The sword dug into the stone floor, missing Volke, who punished Vagrant by kicking the sword away and punching him rapidly in the ribs and flanks. Vagrant didnt even bother going for his sword, returning punches. The sword fight rapidly became a hand to hand brawl. Vagrant absorbed a few strong strikes and delivered a vicious haymaker to Volkes muzzle, enough to floor him. He went to stomp on his chest, but Volke caught his foot, twisting his ankle and bringing him to the floor. The fenrye kept a hold of Vagrants leg while he stood, tossing him across the room with brutish strength. Vagrant grunted as he landed outside of the ring. The spectators parted to allow him back inside, but Volke had found his way to Vagrants sword at this point I see why you like this, cazak... Well crafted... he sniffed it But... a pain lingers... and not the pain of your enemies... Vagrant bellowed, charging, recklessly. Volke tossed the sword to Vagrant, who caught it mid-charge and cleaved for Volkes belly. Volke punched the sword down, his knuckles cracking with the impact. He winced with pain, but his other hand was already swinging for Vagrants cheek. The punch was enough to dislodge the jaw of a normal man. Vagrant however was merely dazed for a moment. This fight is over, Wyatt thought to himself. He had received such a blow like that from Volke on multiple occasions, and hed never been able to recover before hed been put down. Sure enough, Volke stepped forward and began a bone shattering combo, striking different parts of Vagrants body, targeting just enough weak points to completely defuse his chances of countering. This sequence was a favourite of Volkes, one he usually used to end fights. The final blow was one Volke changed every time, and one Wyatt always saw coming, but could never stop. Volke hastily disorientated and disabled Vagrant with his attacks, before stopping, and crouching. He was going for his flying uppercut this time, evidently. Vagrant staggered on the spot, shaking his head a few times to try and fight the daze, but it was already too late. With unstoppable force, Volke leapt upwards, bringing his fist to Vagrants chin. The two of them soared about three to four metres off the ground, before gravity took hold once again. Volke landed on his feet, while Vagrant slammed to the floor on his back, unmoving. Volke panted loudly, turning to Saar. Champion... Edwin chuckled, loudly. Volke turned to him, raising an eyebrow Why is it you laugh, brother?... Edwin rubbed his chin, uncontrollably smiling. Were not that different. Why is this? Oh uh... I dropped my guard too. Volke widened his eyes, turning just in time to see Vagrant ram his sword through his chest. The cloaked human pulled his hood down, blood trickling from multiple wounds in his face

This sword knows pain Vagrant said, coldly, ramming the blade in further. It cries for you. He tore his sword away with a sickening rip and walked from the ring. Volke collapsed onto the floor, blood streaming around him. ...Im...possible... he growled, his eyes closing. Preston sprinted over to the fenrye as his body began to freeze. Doctor Latter meanwhile began to heal Vagrants wounds, which were likely far more severe than he was letting on. Incredible. Ive never seen anyone come back from that attack. Said Lucian Is it his body or his will that carries him, I wonder... It doesnt matter. We can use him, either way. Saar answered. She turned to Wyatt as Preston dragged Volkes transparent casket from the ring What about you, Wyatt? Who would you like to fight? I believe Edwin and Lucian would provide a good fight even following their defeats. Wyatt glanced to the two of them, before looking at Sahavra once again Id rather fight you, champion. Ive been practicing. Saar tapped her foot for a moment. I do not believe youll win, Wyatt. There will be no review of progress if you are defeated so quickly. Besides, you are drained from the days early occurrence. Id strongly advise Lucian or Edwin. Edwin took a step forward Cmon, Rook. Ill play with you. Its his decision, Edwin. Wyatt, make your choice. I can do this, Champion. I choose you. Lucian chuckled and Edwin shook his head Biiiiig mistake. Saar nodded, dropping her cloak to the floor and unsheathing her sword. Lizzy tossed Wyatts other dagger up to him, whispering Good luck, psycho. Wyatt entered the ring, gripping the pair of blades. Well play it fair. No leycasts for this match. I know youre still struggling with them. Youve never needed them before, anyway. Rook replied with a smirk. Saar readied her sword in the style he recognised I wont need them now. You may attack when ready. Rook beckoned with his fingers Why dont you? Saar laughed, changing her stance Why not. She broke into a run, quickly closing in. Wyatt took a deep breath, feigning multiple openings and studying her movements. Time seemed to slow down for a moment as he took in every one of her features; her eye line, her tensed muscles, the positioning of her blades. When she reached him, he knew what to do. Saar quickly leapt and stabbed forward. Wyatt parried the attack, and the other two that quickly followed. He retaliated with seven swift strikes in her direction, all of which were blocked and dodged. He quickly ducked an overhead attack, charging at her legs and landing a tackle. Saar slid backwards, kneeing Wyatts chin and throwing him away. Wyatt rolled against the stone, tumbling further to avoid several stabs into the slabs below him. He righted himself with a spinning kick that knocked Saar to the floor, leaping over her as she attempted the same technique. He stood his ground, around five metres away as Saar stood up. Wyatt rotated and rubbed his jaw for a moment; that knee to the face had hurt. The pain passed, and he focused once again. Saar had fallen into a defensive position, and was edging forward slowly. Her sword would deflect any frontal attacks, and she would use any of Wyatts failed hits to apply pressure and push him back. He needed to get to her flanks. He twirled his daggers, rolling his shoulders and tilting his neck, before striding into the fray. Wyatt quickly dummied several frontal attacks, avoiding the punishment Saar was trying to deliver in response. She left her abdomen open for a split second, giving Wyatt enough time to roll under

her outstretched arm and slash a wound in her side. Saar grunted, turning with synaptic speed and ramming her blade through Wyatts shoulder. The stab was quick and clean, and she was able to recover her blade quickly. Wyatt felt his left arm go numb, and one of his daggers clattered to his feet. He moved away, holding his shoulder and cursing under his breath. Saar felt her flank, checking the blood on her fingers. She giggled and shook her head, before assuming a new stance to compensate for her previous weakness. Lizzy bounded up and down from the sidelines Come on, Wyatt! Shut it! Edwin shouted back. This is a fight, not a quish race. Lizzy ignored him, cheering and whooping. Gooooo Wyattquish! Saar edged closer, taking extreme caution now. Wyatt had damaged her confidence, and this could be all he needed. Then again, it could make her infinitely more difficult to defeat. Saar was currently able to cover her entire upper body without even a moments notice, but her legs might be more difficult to protect. If Wyatt could land his signature move, this fight would be over. Hed never attempted it with only one arm though. Hed have to use Saars momentum from her own swing, as he couldnt get behind her with manual force. A risky tactic indeed, but perhaps one worth trying. The two of them shuffled closer, until they were in attack range. Even then, neither of them moved, each waiting for the other to attack. Saar acted first with a jab to Wyatts face. Wyatt flailed, slashing at the hand, allowing Saar to bring the sword towards his chest for the kill. Without thinking, Wyatt twisted and bent back, spiralling the sword away with a circling slash, pushing Saars blade back with the flat side of his own. With the force of the push, he shoved Saars entire body forward, ending up around half a foot behind her. Saar immediately began to turn but Wyatt was already executing the technique. Saars sword came towards Wyatts throat while he arced his remaining dagger for Saars hamstrings. There was a slice, and the dripping of blood, followed by silence. Saar fell to her knees, Wyatts dagger pressed against the back of her neck. Her sword fell to the floor, and she yielded with a lack of movement. .....I dont believe it... Edwin said, with awe. ...Perhaps we trained our initiates too well... Lucian added. Wyatt withdrew his dagger, sheathing it. Saar remained knelt, looking over her shoulder. She looked just as shocked as Edwin did, as did Wyatt. ...Wyatt wins. She announced, softly. The bioborn jogged over, having healed the others the best they could. Preston set about fixing the stab wound on Rooks shoulder. He immediately felt the feeling in his left arm returning. ...Well done. She added. ...I wont underestimate you again. You have my word. Wyatt had expected her to be happy, proud. Instead she looked a little worried, perhaps even sorrowful. Lizzy leapt over excitedly That was awesome, prize winning quish! You have to teach me that one. You have time... her legs now healed, Saar stood Theres one final lesson we must conduct. We shall do so later this evening. Recover your strength and meet us in the ley training chamber at seven. The three senior callers capable of leaving did so. Edwin seemed to be expressing his disbelief to Saar through the medium of eccentric shouting the moment they got out into the corridor. Lizzy bobbed proudly at Wyatts feet, and even Anya gave him an approving smile. Vagrant was nowhere to be seen. He must have left already. Volke was still frozen, and would be for another hour or so. Lizzy reached up and took Wyatts hand, tugging him to the ring Come on! Come on! Im tiny; I can do that move so easily. Show me how.

...Did Saar seem a little... off, when I beat her? Wyatt asked, worried, his arm jiggling where Lizzy was tugging it What? Who cares!? You beat the champion! Oh! Does that mean youre the new champion?! Ha... I dont think it works like that... Sorry, Lizzy... Ill teach you it some other time... I need to catch my breath. Besides, I bet one of your characters already knows it. Lizzy released Wyatts hand, folding her arms, grumpily. Wyatt winked at her, before walking to the door ...I could have beaten her too... Anya said, as he was leaving. Then by all means, try. Wyatt answered as a final note, exiting the room. Was Saar worried about what he was capable of? Was she afraid that he would become some sort of unstoppable monster? It seemed farfetched, but after what he had gone through earlier, it would not have surprised him. The Final Lesson The days werent technically shorter in Glacenox, but they were definitely darker, and by the time seven oclock had come around, it was practically night time in the skies above, just without any moon or stars. Theyd come later. Guided by the flaming braziers, Wyatt and the others appeared from different parts of the keep, uniting in the central cloister before the Reliquary and heading down to the ley training chamber together. What do you think itll be? Lizzy asked. Vagrant peered down at the vermus near his knees I believe they will make us kill. Lizzy frowned, looking up at the towering Vagrant What? Why? To create the perfect hunter, you give them a taste for blood. Vagrant nodded Its what I would do... not that its needed for one such as myself... he looked at Wyatt, then Lizzy Youve both killed before, correct? Wyatt nodded with a hint of uncertainty. Hed been trying to convince himself that those previous incidents didnt really count. They had been monsters, not actual people. Lizzy meanwhile rubbed her head, squinting her eyes in thought Im... not sure. Youre not sure if youve killed?.... Maybe one of me has. I dont know. Its complicated. Seriously, Princess. Wyatt cut in Youre gonna need to explain that to me one day. Sure. Ill do it the moment I can explain it to myself. Vagrant peered to Anya next How many lives have you taken? Too many, I trust. Dont take the moral high ground with me after braggin how you dont need a taste for blood, creepo. The lives I took were spoiled, corrupted... They were a stain upon my world, existing only to be washed away. Anya snorted And what if they try and make you kill someone innocent, Vaggy? Vagrant tapped his sheathed blade Then they shall be cleansed. The group reached the door and pushed it open. The snow on the floor had vanished now, and the serene water features were once again flowing. The initiates were all within, including Volke, who seemed to have recovered. Vulpe was still absent, unsurprisingly. Lakebank was a fair distance

away; she would be gone for around ten to twenty days. Vulpe could move much faster than a horse and carriage could, and she would have used the glider to get at least half way there. Welcome, initiates. Saar said while ushering them all inside With any luck, that should be the last time I call you that. Come on in. Close the door. They followed the order, lining up in front of the callers and waiting, expectantly. Theres something weve kept from you. Not something malicious or secretive, but something that we found comes as an interesting and perhaps, exciting surprise. No doubt youve all taken time to look upon our statue of Gray Koramas. Have you ever paid any mind to the fray owl upon his shoulder? Edwin told us it was his familiar... Wyatt recalled out loud. Thats correct, now a familiar is something none of you have seen yet. Wed like to show you them now. Volke and Edwin took a few steps forward. Volke raised a fist and Edwin clicked his fingers. Two balls of light formed in the air before them, which quickly began to take on unique shapes. Volkes orb sprouted four scaly legs, a slender body and a short, stubby head with slitted nostrils and a large, fanged mouth. A crest finally bloomed in a semi circle around the top of its neck, and it dropped to the floor. Edwins form meanwhile developed four long legs with hooves, some large antlers and the docile but graceful body and head of a jurnice. It landed beside the strange lizard creature, and remained still. Both of the animals were lacking in colour, with mostly just their outlines visible with a brilliant blue light. Some patterns were visible on their bodies however that resembled fur and scales. Their eyes emitted an ethereal smoke, similarly to Vulpes. Woa. Lizzy gasped. I want one. Then youre in luck. Saar approached the stag, which looked to her, before bowing its head Your familiars are not only tools of recon and information, but they also provide much needed companionship during your solo missions. Acting alone for weeks on end can become a little soul destroying, so were always happy to bring our familiars along. Their forms and personalities shift depending on the caller that summons them... but once theyve been fabricated for the first time, they shall remain with you until the end of your career, and the end of your life. What are they?... Vagrant asked, cautiously. A familiar is the energy of The Pale itself incarnate. They share the same... spectral symbiosis with the realm of the restless as omens. Anya took a step forward, shouting What?! Calm down. Unlike omens, familiars will never become hostile to you. In the way an omen has no unfinished business but lingers, so too does a familiar. This means they are capable of touching you, as an omen is... but you cannot touch them. They cannot touch normal, leyless individuals, again, the same as an omen. Like an omen, they can appear before the living when they choose, but they cannot communicate with anyone other than a Palecaller. Its advised you keep your familiars hidden from the normal, unsuspecting citizens of Sovreignous, unless you want your cover blown. There may be incidents in which they can distract your opposition for you, however. The stag moved his head into Saars outstretched palm Typically, we use our familiars to access areas and gather information. They can pass through walls and perform instantaneous transportation, as your handlers could. They can eavesdrop for you, and they can search for you too. They share a bond with their master, however, and cannot manifest great distances from them. It is why we take starls with us if we need to send messages back to Palthgar. Due to our own limitations, a Palecaller can only own a single familiar at any one time. Your familiar can be conjured or dismissed at will. They are perfectly capable of understanding you, and possess the same level of sapience as an adult human.

So.... they can talk?... Wyatt said, trying to piece together what Saar was saying with some difficulty. When they need to, yes. Whats the catch? Wyatt asked. In situations like this, there was always a catch. Manipulating the raw energy of The Pale itself is... difficult. The greatest sources of energy will always be the spirits that dwell there. Unfortunately... those spirits would not endure this process, and would be destroyed. Wyatt blinked Destroyed? What? We can destroy spirits? Lucian cleared his throat If I may, champion? Go ahead. Lucian took a step forward The laws of physics dictate that something can never truly be erased. When a wall is smashed down, it is fragmented, but everything that made the wall still lies where it was. When a bomb detonates, nothing vanishes, it is merely flung. When a fire burns, wood becomes ash, smoke and embers. This law applies to spirits of The Pale. We cannot destroy a spirit... merely transform it into another form. We can only do this once in our life. Why?... Lizzy questioned. It is a restriction put in place by Glace himself. He couldnt allow the risk of wayward callers manipulating and transforming hordes of spirits. Were here to do a job, not cheat it. Vagrant was clearly not happy with this. He strolled forward, his voice just below the level of a shout These animals used to be people! Terrible people, yes. Saar said Murderers, bandits, savages, with unfinished business so vile that was kept them just for this purpose... None of that remains now. Our familiars are born anew, without the sickened desires of their former selves. No one deserves to be rewritten! I think youre wrong, Vagrant... and it shouldnt be hard for you to accept that, considering youre attempting it upon yourself. ...I am an exception... What they did was ten... twenty times worse than the act you committed. Youre so lost in your own pity that you cant even accept it wasnt your fault. Vagrant stayed quiet Now please, take a step back. I want no more conflict. Vagrant took a few deep breaths, before backing away. ...So what horrible spirits have you got for us, Champion? Wyatt asked. None, yet. We were hoping you would help us with that. Vagrant snorted Called it.... Youre gonna make us kill folk? I aint sure Im up for that... Saar shook her head We wont make you do anything, but take it from me personally, Rook... the first time I refused to kill someone... I... she trailed off. ...I regret that decision. She turned to Volke Bring them in, would you? Volke nodded, heading to the door to the market and leaving. A few moments later, he came back, bringing with him four individuals. Their wrists were bound and they had execution style hoods on their heads. Wyatt immediately felt uncomfortable, fiddling with his fingers. Lizzy didnt look too happy either. Volke threw the group into the rooms centre, and Edwin drew his sword, standing nearby as they struggled to their knees. We thought wed make it easy for you. Your handlers told us about your upbringing, about your struggles and triumphs... and about your journey here. She headed over to the first prisoner Vagrant, do you recall who made you pull the trigger? Who made you desperate to save her... ...The wranglers...

You killed four of them, but one got away. She whipped the hood off, revealing a slightly beaten and bruised woman in her thirties This is her. This is the woman that killed Gabrielle... The wrangler spat on the floor, struggling to her feet, her wrists bound behind her back You leyborn scum deserve it. Pity youre all going down for this... I had a tracking device in... We removed the tracking device the moment we caught you. No one is coming to save you. Edwin said, tapping the sword on the wranglers shoulder Now sit down and be a good girl. Demoralised, the woman slumped down. Vagrant drew his sword Release her. Arm her. Edwin looked to the champion for guidance. She nodded, giving the ok. With a swipe, Edwin cut through the wranglers binds and kicked her away. She rolled across the floor towards Vagrant, before a steel sword clinked to her side, thrown by Volke. The wrangler took the sword and slowly stood up. Vagrant whirled around and slammed the flat of his blade against the wranglers side, throwing her into an empty part of the room. I shall return momentarily... he said to the others, following his prey. Saar moved to the next prisoner Anya... There was always one that directed, and one that watched. I believe his name was Gibbs? She pulled the hood off, but didnt even have time to back away before his head practically exploded. Blood and gore stained Saars armour. Anya lowered her smoking pistol, holstering it, happily. Wanted to do that for a while... she said. Saar brushed away some of the viscera on her outfit, before proceeding. Elizabeth... I dont believe this man needs an introduction... she pulled the hood off of another human, this one with short shaven grey hair and a small beard. Elizabeth tilted her head, taking a few steps forward ...I... I dont know this man... Yes you do, Lizzy. Think carefully. Elizabeth took a few more steps. The old man gave her a simple, perhaps even sympathetic look. Lizzy stopped one foot away from him, looking him over carefully, her mind trying to piece together this puzzle Think back to before this all started... Still Lizzy looked lost. ...Whats your name?... The man didnt answer. is it... Sigmund? Still not response ...Jenson?... Silence. Jeremiah? The man hesitated, before nodding, slowly. Lizzys eyes flared into a monstrous rage, and she pulled out her bow, leapt over his head and hooked the frame around his neck. She pulled with all her might, choking the man to death with the string. With a few strangled grunts and unhealthy cracks, the man fell to the floor, silently. At around the same time, the cleaving of flesh from a distance signalled Vagrants victory in his fight. His wrangler collapsed without a sound. Wyatt... Yours was difficult... but I felt you needed at least some closure on this... She pulled the hood off, revealing a young and slightly familiar face. After you incapacitated Kristian Prowler, he became the head of the case that currently hunts you. Under his direction, your best friend has been violently tortured for days at a time... It clicked in Wyatts head, this was the same wrangler hed knocked out in the Everlast Woods all those months ago. ...Hes torturing Vince?... We need to get him out of there. We cant... Wyatt. Vincent is on The Leylands. Even with the full force of every Palecaller here, we could not expect to siege the isle successfully... The guard is too heavy. Hm. Prowler smirked The only way to save him, Wyatt Rook, is to turn yourself in. Once wed determined he was not leyborn, we only wished to extract the information of your whereabouts...

You wont be tortured, of course... simply processed and contained like the rest of the leyborn... as I said before. ...if hes dead... will they stop?... Wyatt asked Saar. Saar languidly shook her head Its... unlikely. Command will be assumed by another on your case... but with any luck, the new commanding officer will be one with more... humanity. I guarantee you, Wyatt, that Vince will be in better hands once Prowler is eliminated. Wyatt sighed. Hed once told himself hed do anything for Vince... and Vince had killed for him before. He drew his ivoryon pistol and loaded it. Prowler stood up, narrowing his eyes Youre making a mistake, Rook. These outlaws are influencing you to become a murderer. Youre only increasing your chances of permanent incarceration... perhaps... in Lockdown. He smirked I hear its worse than death... Wyatt cocked his gun, pointing it at Prowlers head. ...Sorry, bud. Prowler chuckled, and hung his head May your ancestors find the will to forgive you... abomination... Wyatt fired, and Prowler thudded into a heap. One by one, sentient shadows appeared around the room as the four spirits began to manifest. Quickly now. Find your spirit. Volke, go with Wyatt. Edwin, with Vagrant, Lucian with Elizabeth. The seniors all jogged to join their designated initiates, with Saar moving to Anyas side. Wyatt found Prowlers shadow, which was already developing details and structure. Volke arrived at Wyatts flank, raising his clawed hand towards the entity, seemingly trapping it in space. The cast is an easy one, salt lick. Focus now on this. Wyatt inhaled and set his gaze upon the form. In the way you felt the doors presence, feel now the kaluum, the spirit. Your ivoryon will assist. Wyatt drew his dagger, focusing intensely. He felt a shard of panic rapidly growing within him. He knew he couldnt fail this, or Prowler would simply escape. The hum of the singing metal resonated through his mind, creating a window of clarion vision. For a moment, he could see Prowler, struggling against Volkes grip. Now condense him... break him down... The Pale will do the rest for you. Gau brak zah kor. Wyatt raised his hand towards the spirit. He felt his fingers close around its very being, and gradually began to clench his fist shut. The spirit writhed, gradually being compressed down like a soft clay model. Gel! Gel! Yes. A little more, cazak Rook. Wyatt let out a long yell, forcing all of his strength into the pressure he was applying. The spirit was slowly squashed into a ball, and its writhing came to a halt. The ball let out a beacon of light, and Volke released his grip. Wyatt panted ...Farl....Heh... Did I do it?... he said, between breaths. Volke clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder You did. Well fought, son of Sovreignous. Come. Bring your mould with you. Wyatt acknowledged. With the spirit in this form, it was easy to manipulate. He dragged it along behind him on an invisible leash to the rooms centre, where the other three were currently pulling along their own. Once theyd placed their moulds before Saar, she congratulated them Well done. The world is now a better place having ridded it of those monsters. Lets begin the moulding process. It is something you cannot control yourself... you will have no choice as to which familiars The Pale grants you, but they will always provide the friendship you need, in time. To commence the production, you simply perform your designated summoning gesture. These creatures are alive. You dont control them in the way you do your ley... you have to give them a signal for them to acknowledge for the rest of their existence... It could be a finger click, like Edwins, or a salute, like Volkes... You get the picture. Vagrant grunted, tapping his blood-soaked sword

against the floor twice in quick succession. His light orb immediately reacted, and began to change. Anya settled for the classic finger click, while Lizzy seemed overwhelmed with an abundance of choice. She scratched her head in thought, and he orb began to change. ...No no no no nonononono! That wasnt it! The orb stopped. ...Good... Uh... Ok how about... performed a five finger point with a flat, outstretched hand. Her orb began its shift, and she seemed content with her choice. Finally, Wyatt performed the hand to heart salute of The Wolfbane Pact as his summoning gesture. Hed grown quite fond of it over the months. The four orbs deformed and wriggled, folding into bestial shapes. Lizzys appeared to be quite simple, as her mould was having no difficulty, stretching into a long, thin serpentine form. Vagrants shifted into the undeniable shape of a saberl, a proud and understandable result for the mysterious warrior. Anyas took on the bulky outline of an ursoroc, a large, muscular predatory mammal found in some regions of Norvask. Wyatts was taking the longest to gain some sort of identity. He felt tension rising, nervous that it might provide him with a something embarrassing, like a quish. His nerves rose even further when he made out the unmistakable form of a beak. It was a quish, obviously. The Pale was making fun of him and giving him natures clown. He covered his eyes, unwilling to look. He missed the feathers sprouting, the dome-shaped head, the tufty eyebrows and the large wingspan. Predatory talons and eyes were the last two features to emerge from the mould. Wyatt peered through his fingers after hed got over the embarrassment, but it wasnt a quish. It was a fray owl. The familiars all dropped to the floor and approached their new masters. Saar, Lucian, Volke and Edwin were all staring at Wyatts owl, mouths open in shock, eyes wide with disbelief. The owl rotated its head to look at them briefly, before flapping up and landing on Rooks shoulder. He could somehow feel it sat there, despite its spectral entirety. ...Impossible... Saar breathed Or just... very improbable... Lucian corrected her. It was predicted, after all... Wyatt blinked, looking up at the owl. It stared down at him with its smoking, beady eyes. ...Am I missing something here? Wyatt asked. Are you impressed because I got the same species as Koramas? Thats not the same species, Wyatt... Thats the same owl... Edwin stated, rubbing his eyes as if they were deceiving him ...Thats Talazon.

Chapter Twenty The Reliquary

Did... Did I do something wrong?! Wyatt objected as the senior callers marched him and the other three initiates out of the ley training chamber and down the long straight hallway. The spectral owl swayed on his shoulder, calmly, still attracting the gaze of everyone around. The other familiars had all stayed behind. No. No, Wyatt... at least, we dont think so. Lucian responded, studying the owl carefully (Edwin was currently holding him up so he could get a better look. Talazon was just staring back at the old vermus, curiously. Whatcha think, fuzzy? Are we sure its him? Edwin asked, holding Lucian a little closer. Lucian peered, and Talazon narrowed his eyes Im almost certain... I wont know for sure until his communication abilities begin to function. It could be several hours... the wait will kill me, for sure... Big deal then, huh? Indeed... the old Lysus prophecies spoke of this moment... of the war within. I aint got no war within! shouted Wyatt Youre not gonna cut me open or some crap, right? Wyatt, calm yourself. Saar spoke, soothingly Wed have taken you here regardless of the sessions outcome... but in light of recent circumstances... we thought wed take you here a little... hastier. Whatcha mean here? The group stopped. Theyd come to a halt right before the enormous golden doors of the Reliquary. Oh.... Wyatt suddenly felt less concerned, and more excited Are we going in there? The callers broke away, lining up before the initiates That depends if it wants to let us in. Saar said, glancing to the door briefly before looking back to her initiates (although mainly at Talazon). Should these doors open, there are rules you must adhere too... these rules are important, much more important than any weve laid down before... so listen carefully. On no circumstances are you to wander off... do not touch anything, do not speak unless given permission, and no matter what you see, keep your weapons sheathed. Nothing will harm you, I swear. She gave them all an incredibly serious look If you endanger the Reliquary, we will be forced to attack... and we will go for the kill. Do you understand? Wyatt felt himself nodding frantically. He had no plans of dying today. Evidently, the others had acknowledged as well, as Saar seemed ready to enter. The Champion turned towards the garish, gleaming, golden chrome door, removing her ivoryon key from her belt and approaching. She placed the key inside and turned it, before backing away. Nothing happened, but based on the patient, unwavering reaction of the senior callers, this was to be expected initially. Thirty seconds ticked by and still the door was showing no signs of opening. ...Maybe you didnt turn the key far enough... suggested Anya with a shrug Maybe its already open and you just have to tug it? added Lizzy. Maybe you should both shut up. Edwin kindly chipped in. The two girls sunk into a state of grumpiness, their distorted reflections visible to Wyatt in the doors brilliant sheen. Two minutes passed, and even some of the callers were starting to look a little demoralised. They exchanged disappointed glances to one another, except for Saar, who kept her steely eyes locked on the key. Wyatt beckoned Edwin over, who rolled his eyes and moved toward him.

I dont get it. Wyatt whispered to the man Is the door alive or something? In a sense. Edwin quietly replied. Usually it dont take this long but... farl... I aint been in here for over a decade. A lot could have changed... he found himself staring at the owl again. Wyatt clicked his fingers Hey. Hey. My face is down here. Edwin snorted Sorry. Its a big deal if you ask me. You might be The War Within. Its a stage of an old Lysus prophecy that foretold the coming of a new age... The Reliquary will let us know for sure. Theres a lot of knowledge in there that no one else can access... not even us most of the time. Can ghosts get in there?... Not unless invited. Its a dead zone in The Pale... Only one of two in known existence. Whats the other one?... Core. The Formless capital. Farl knows what theyve got going on in there. Wyatt chuckled Rimes greatest mystery. A click sounded out from the doors lock, making everyone jump with shock. Very slowly, as if possessed by some unseen force, the key grinded a further ninety degrees in the lock on its own accord. Edwin patted Rooks free shoulder, jogging back to his place at the front line. The door clunked, repeatedly, the sound of an incredibly complex bolting mechanism releasing at dozens of points all over the doors interior. A few of the engraved features moved, parting and shifting to reveal cogs turning rapidly. Lizzy was trying desperately to get a better look passed the front line of callers, so Vagrant picked her up, sitting her upon his shoulder. She seemed somewhat shocked, but thanked him for the assist. Perhaps Vagrant understood this door might not open again in her lifetime. She shouldnt be forced to miss it due to her height. With a hiss, the first crack between the double doors appeared, and a wave of heat rushed out, the kind of heat youd expect at a coastline at the highest point of Lumina, or in the enclosed metal forgeworks of a blacksmith. The door swung open, the cogs and gears grinding loudly. An enormous open space was revealed, along with the back wall, but it seemed the majority of the room was around the left corner. A sweltering heat radiated out from within, the culprits being literally hundreds of braziers in close formation lined along the walls at multiple levels. Currently, these were the only pieces of furniture available to see. Disappointing, to say the least. Wyatt had expected wild treasures and riches beyond his imagination. Why hide nothing behind a giant golden door except fire? The callers approached in a single row formation. Saar beckoned for the others to follow. They obeyed, some of them more nervously then others. Moving around the corner, the rooms full size came into view. The enormous chamber was large enough to accommodate perhaps the oceans largest creatures. It was easily sixty metres in length, with the ceiling reaching twenty five to thirty. Many more braziers came into sight, giving the room a level of heat uncomfortable for someone of his... species. He felt even worse for Lizzy, Lucian and Volke, who were stuck behind layers of fur. There were two prominent features in the space; one was a large, table-like structure directly in the chambers centre. It had particular tubing and wires protruding from its sides and disappearing into the floor panels. It was made of a chromatic metal with a slightly iridescent coating. On the ceiling high above it was a strange pylon that pointed downwards at the table like a mechanical stalactite. The two of them were clearly linked, although the link itself was highly confusing. The second standing out feature was right at the other end of the room. A series of ascending steps lead up almost all the way to the ceiling. At the pinnacle of this narrow staircase was a large silver throne. It was difficult to make out the details upon it at this time,

as it was so far away, but even at this distance, it was possible to tell someone, or something, was sat upon it. The door to the Reliquary swung shut automatically, and the senior callers all dropped to one knee, bowing their heads and facing the distant throne. It took Rook and the others a moment to understand, but a few gestures from Edwin caused them to follow suit. Except for Anya, of course. Anya didnt bow for no one. Upon the throne, the distant creature moved. It stood, and a pair of silvery eyes opened, letting forth a torrent of silver smoke, just as Vulpes did, only more extreme. Wyatt wasnt sure if he should be watching or bowing his head, but he couldnt tear his gaze away. A pair of glinting, bright, silver wings unfolded from its back, and it leapt from its perched throne, gliding across the large room in seconds and leaving a flurry of snow in its wake. More features came into sight, the gleaming silver-white scales, the pale armour, the long ridged tail and the reptilian, icy-quill adorned ahead. The large lacertine humanoid touched down a dozen metres away, the floor freezing at impact and letting him slide to a halt just yards from the knelt callers. He loomed over them, standing at what must have been about eight feet. Wyatt already knew who this was. Hed seen the depictions on church walls and windows. Hed heard of his unbelievable appearance in Faithful texts, but he waited for confirmation, nonetheless. The creature looked at the callers, before peering at Anya. Finally, he looked at Talazon, who bowed his head in a similar fashion to the others. You may rise. He eventually said. His voice seemed to fade in before he spoke, as if affected by some sort of reversing echo. His tone was simple, cold and without life. The callers and initiates stood. These initiates are ready, my lord. Saar turned to them Anya, Vagrant, Elizabeth, Wyatt... This is Krosinox. Civilisation knows him as Glace...The Divine of Cold, and the leader of our order. Wyatt immediately felt a twinge of regret. The amount of times hed denied the Divines existence was countless. The callers parted, allowing Glace easy access to the newcomers. ...Interesting. he said, after a painfully long stare. Saar looked worried, clearing her throat and asking ...These... are the ones you selected, my lord?... Glace moved closer, diamond dust sprinkling at his feet Not all of them. We lost Lao in The Salience, my lord... ...And the female, Champion?... Saar hung her head She.... we... There was... a miscalculation... Glace turned, slamming his tail down with aggression. The seniors immediately dropped to their knees again I never miscalculate. The god angrily stated. My lord... the ley didnt save her... it... Vagrant interrupted It was no fault of the plan... I already told you... it was my mistake... I pulled the trigger... I killed her... not The Palecallers... The seniors gave him a warning look, which he seemed to understand, bowing his head respectfully once again My apologies. Glace turned, approaching Vagrant. My condolences... Your heart is filled with a deep sorrow... a longing for the void... he peered closely at Vagrants wounded eye ...And this scar a sign for all to see.... self inflicted. Vagrant nodded, sadly Yes... my lord. Wyatt blinked, turning to Vagrant and recalling what he had said during their ascent to Palthgar.

May you find peace before the curtain falls, Palecaller... I have found peace, my lord... I am ready to die. Glace moved to Anya next, who couldnt look the divine in the eye. What ails you is a line of thought that once destroyed this world, Anya Hrongmar... Anya looked up, confused You are lost in the concept of our omnipotence. If there were gods, why did they not help you? Anya kept her eyes down, but nodded slightly We would have, if we could... this world no longer welcomes us... it chose the ways youve experienced... rather than the ones we upheld... On behalf of the Divines, I apologise. I hope you find retribution one day... something we cannot. Again, Anya nodded. Glace looked down at Elizabeth, who had come down from Vagrants shoulder by now. In you, I sense a great deal... he looked over at Lucian, before peering back at Elizabeth You are... time-lost... as Lucian is. Im afraid such a condition is beyond even my understanding... but one day we will find an explanation. He rounded on Wyatt, quite quickly. Rook found himself combating his own fight or flight instinct for a moment And you... Wyatt Rook... I knew your father... ...Are you the one that persuaded him to... off himself?... I convinced him to join our cause, yes. By our own code, we are to have as little influence on this worlds development as possible... I aid in the creation of the next generation... but The Reliquarys doors remain closed whenever they can... ...And what about Matern? Creating the fenrye, waging war... is she following the code?... Krosinox stared, his cold eyes piercing deeply. He then focused on Talazon for the second time. Eventually, he turned, moving away ...She is not. He said, simply. As Glace travelled to his strange table device, Saar and the others rose once again My lord, these initiates are ready to be made into Palecallers. They will take the oath now. One moment. The divine said. A panel slid out from the surfaces side, covered with complicated mechanisms, switches and buttons. Glace tapped in a few commands, and the pylon upon the ceiling began to rotate. Without looking up, and with a somewhat careless tone, he ordered Saar to begin Proceed. Saar nodded, fixing on her initiates, who were still staring at the legendary god of cold with ample levels of disbelief. Wyatt Rook, Elizabeth Forktongue, Anya Hrongmar and... Vagrant gave a warning look Ergh...Vagrant... Standing before you now is Rimes most dangerous secret. Humanity tore this continent apart to be rid of The Divines. The faithless are in power, and the divines followers scattered, demoralised, even after all these centuries. For now there is no place for him... but right now, Glace is essential to our way of life. Without him, we couldnt conduct initiations, or predict the worlds catastrophes. We need you to swear an oath, an allegiance. Under no circumstances, under no amount of pain and misery... are you ever to reveal our operations here in Palthgar, or the contents of the Reliquary. This information could save your life one day... but it must not. It cannot. This is beyond one man or woman. You must swear... but dont swear to me... swear to him. She moved aside, and Glace looked up from his console Will your loyalty remain absolute, in darkness and decay, in savagery and depravity, in desperation and in cruelty?... When this world truly calls to you... Will you call back? Vagrant and Lizzy answered without hesitation Death does not concern me. I will. I will, lord Glace! Til the end of us all. Wyatt chuckled under his breath and shrugged. Why not?

As will I. My loyalty is yours. The whole room focused on Anya temporarily while she fidgeted and incoherently muttered ....Farl.... Alright fine. I will too. Glace looked to them each in turn. His stare brought a harsh chill to the bones. Their resolve is not brittle. I sense no discrepancy. They will live for the cause. He raised his wings, the smallest of blizzards briefly howling around him You are the livings unknown hope. You are the ungrateful worlds heroes... You are the subjects of song amongst the spirits of the lost... you are the sons and daughters of Glacenox itself. You are Palecallers. Wyatt couldnt quite tell, but for a fraction of a second, he swore he saw a smile on the old lizards face. Congratulations, brothers and sisters. Saar called, once Glace had returned to his button mashing. By will of a god, you are no longer initiates. Well talk about your first jobs, once lord Krosinox has cleared up a matter for us... Giving me orders now, Champion? Youve come a long way... the dragon knight said. It was impossible to tell if he was joking or not. I meant no disrespect, my lord, but surely you recognise the fray owl sat upon Wyatts shoulder? Krosinox peered at the owl again, before hitting a final button on his machine. The rotating pylon above glowed brightly, and the table itself began to whirr. A strange transparent, three dimensional image appeared, floating in mid air. It displayed a wall, covered in inscriptions, pictures and unreadable messages. Central to them all was a large trio of sentences in an ancient, foreign text. To those of you that cannot read ancient, Volkerkert will provide the translation. Volke nodded, reading aloud The war so feared by the realm of man shall one day walk across the land as man itself walks, step by step. The host shall bear the war within, the champions that clashed. And as before, when the dust clears, a new age shall dawn. Saar gestured to Talazon Thats Gray Koramass owl, and in the last few months, Wyatt, youve been making casts in a surprisingly similar way to Farl, according to the documents we have at hand. We believe you are the host of The War Within. This is pretty vague... Wyatt argued, half-heartedly I mean... It dont even say if its a Palecaller... besides that, whats it meant to mean by dust clearin? Am I gonna explode? I really dont wanna explode. Glaces voice echoed through the chamber Rather than think of everything on a physical level, consider it on a mental one. The clash it mentions is likely internal... the war will mould you into either Farl, or Koramas... And then youll be instrumental in the coming of the next Age. Lucian cut in. Wyatt frowned Thats stupid. So I have a choice of being a hated monster or a loved war hero? How is that not the easiest decision anyone has ever made?... The choice may not be yours, Wyatt. Lucian continued A clash is a clash. A war is a war, there is a victory and a defeat... Rook fell silent. He felt the eyes of both generations staring at him. He didnt like where this was going. ...But I like being me. I dont wanna become someone else. Dont think in absolutes! Dont think so literal. Lucian was clearly getting a little impatient with Wyatts attitude The prophecies of the Lysus should never be taken literally. You will not become the champions of The Necroley War. Your appearance wont change, and I suspect your personality will still be your own... but you will fill a role, Rook, one of the roles those individuals filled in The Necroley War. We could be even more cryptic and assume its referring to an equivalent role... one

that has no place in warfare whatsoever. Maybe youll be the Gray Koramas of the... knitting industry. We cant know anything for sure yet. Lizzy giggled Knitting hero. Anya and Edwin both snorted too. Saar shot them a glare, clearly worried about the image they were setting before their master. My Lord... do you have anything to tell us in light of this appearance? Glace pulled a small lever, shutting down the projection device. The wall of prophecy vanished. Needless to say, we do not need another Necroley War... he said, coldly Place him on the same control course we had Farl on... and make sure he has an escort every time hes deployed... he approached Wyatt, and Rook felt a thin layer of frost building on his eyebrows. Understand our caution, Wyatt Rook. The Necroley War worked my Palecallers too hard... and now theres a seventy eight percent reduction in our numbers... We used to be able to accommodate a war... but with this secrecy its... not possible. Wyatt nodded Its fine... uh... milordy... Ill accept any precautions you gotta give. Good. Dont wander off when on active duty... my callers will hunt you down. He said this not with malice or intimidation, but with a blunt logical observation. We will not make the same mistake twice... He gave Wyatt a piercing look, while speaking to Saar Is that all, Champion? I believe so, yes... Do you have any questions for me, Palecallers? Glace asked the four of them. Well... Uhm... Anya asked the question that was likely on everyones minds first ...Youre...The Divine of Cold... right? Glace nodded, some light bouncing off his icy quills ...Then... why is it so hot in here?... The god definitely smirked this time. Edwin Worsch asked the same thing decades ago... Lets see if he still remembers... Edwin cleared his throat and stepped over Krosinox is a reptile. Hes cold blooded, so despite even the ley within him, he still needs a level of warmth to survive. Survive? Anya blinked ...Gods can die? Everyone shrugged, even Krosinox We assume so. Its not happened yet, however. Ive calculated that our odds for survival in the cold of Glacenox are almost immeasurably low. There is a personal reason we wanted it gone in addition to the aid it granted the mortals. Furthermore, were still unaware of the damage that can be caused by mortal weaponry... He looked towards his throne Speaking of which... Volkerkert, Ive shed scales over the years. Make sure you take them with you. Your armourer will require them... Volke nodded, heading off towards a glinting pile near the foot of the thrones steps. ...Where are the other Divines?... Wyatt asked, curiously. Glace looked down at him That is information I do not firmly possess. We keep our locations secret from one another, so that should one of us be compromised, the others will not. Firmly? I have made calculations. I have not drawn a conclusion, however... Vagrant nodded at the machine Whats that? he asked. Krosinox looked over his shoulder at the device A relic of the lysus. Their technology was vastly superior to what civilisation currently possesses. Their empire was great... It is tragic that ill-fate has befallen them. ...What happened to them?... Wyatt queried. He felt he was pushing his luck a little with his line of inquiry, but he could maybe milk this opportunity just a little more. Unknown. Glace monotonously said.

Can you tell the future, like they could? My father mentioned something about-... My predictions are based on logic. I calculate the possibilities, and assign parameter shifts where they are required. I do not read fate, I create it. This just opened up more questions, but Wyatt saw Edwin and Saar making slashing gestures across their own necks, ordering him to cut it out. Neat. Thats all. Wyatt beamed. Edwin and Saar relaxed, and Glace began to walk away I cannot promise my door will always be open to you, Palecallers... I can only open The Reliquary when I am truly required. Most of you will only see me four or five times in your lifetime... But I will always be here, and I will always be ready. He began to ascend his stairs on foot, but Vagrant called after him Ready for what?! Glace didnt turn, but shouted a response, his echoic voice ringing through the halls For Rime! Once outside the golden doors, The Reliquary sealed shut. Wyatt wiped his brow: He was sweating, perhaps for the first time in months. Stepping out of that furnace was highly relaxing. Evidently the others felt the same, displaying similar signs of relief. Welcome to our world, callers. Saar said, fanning herself with her hand Youve been blessed by Glace himself. Very few have such an honour. Tomorrow we will deploy you all on a mission to locate an echo, and maybe fulfil a few spirits unfinished business from The Market. As this is your first time, you will all receive accompaniment. Anya and Vagrant, youll be joining Edwin. The three of you will be heading to the southern coast. Elizabeth, Lucian will be escorting you to Glascan. Its across the seas so youll be needing your wyte flyers. Wyatt blinked as he realised who was left Wyatt, Volke will be accompanying you to various parts of Norvask. She looked at them both Please take good care of him... Volke nodded, his arms full of dozens of Glaces scales. I shall. Saar raised an eyebrow at Volke I was talking to Wyatt... The fenrye rolled his eyes. ....Ha....Ha.... Volke gave Wyatt a toothy grin, before padding off. For now, you should all get some rest. Meet your partners tomorrow morning at eight in Alistairs tower. Lizzy and Lucian, youll be meeting in Inks tower. Youll need weapons, and lightweight clothing. Im afraid your armour wont be ready for some time. Alistair must spend weeks converting those scales into ivoryon. The thing thats confusing me is how Glaces scales got up upon the mountains... Lizzy pondered I asked him once Saar said During Lumina, The Reach is more hospitable... its still cold but Glace is able to survive for several hours. During the Divines reign, he travelled to The Reach a lot. He was fond of the mountains, but he also used them to deposit his scales, and over hundreds of years, they became ivoryon. I believe Glace expected the metal to be acquired by the best and boldest... climbing those peaks is no easy task. So the strong get stronger with a shiny new weapon? Sounds like natural selection... Perhaps it was Glaces way of improving the people of Sovreignous. We may never know. Either way, weve discovered a way to speed up the transformation process using forging techniques. Alistair will have us a plentiful supply of ivoryon soon, enough to create some armour, and perhaps even the keys for the generation following yours. She smiled, perhaps pleased with how the training process had gone. Her smile sank just a little when she looked at Talazon again, but her spirits were not overly dampened. If thats all, I strongly suggest you all go and get some sleep. You have a long day tomorrow...

Uh... champion?! Wyatt said, stopping Saar as she was about to leave ...Yes? Wyatt looked at the owl, still perched on his shoulder. I like the bird and everything... but... is he ever gonna go? If you want him dismissed, then tell him, not me. She winked Youre his master now... you have some big shoes to fill. She walked away, being closely followed by Edwin and Lucian. Wyatt peered at Talazon, who returned to him an identical look ...You can go now, bud. Ill call you back soon. Talazon shook his head, slowly, before vanishing in a squall of glittering dust. Wyatt then found himself looking at the other three standing around him ...What? Arent you worried? Lizzy asked Youre the centre of some... prophecy. Your door was farlin horrible. Anya blurted out. Dont open one of those near me again. Wyatt just sighed I wont, and I aint that worried... I feel fine... no murderous desires or nothing. I still aint got plans to hurt no one that dont wholesomely deserve to be corpsified. Admirable. Vagrant commented I would appreciate you remaining that way. Should you ever have a change of heart, tell me, Rook. I can help... these two cannot... Anya folded her arms I could help him way better than you could... besides, what was the reptile on about? You cut out your own eye? Vagrant sighed, looking away I shot it. I shot myself. The ley saved me. He instantly looked uncomfortable ...I do not wish to speak of this again... please do not ask about what happened... The man I shot died... I am new. I am Vagrant... I am not... him. He walked away, hastily. The two girls watched after him, eyebrows raised Farl... hes damaged... Yeah... at least he isnt The War Within though, right Wya-... Lizzy turned to see Wyatt had escaped as well. Well crap. She grumpily said We scared them off with our charm, Annie. Anya laughed, heading off down the hallway towards her quarters I like this weasel. You should wear this one more often. Lizzy beamed Apparently this weasel doesnt mind being called weasel. Ha! ***** The following morning, after a quick breakfast, wash and exchanging good luck messages with the other initiates, Wyatt found himself within Alistairs tower. It was currently deathly quiet inside, without any of the machines operating. Alistair must have been sleeping in his quarters still. Rook was currently waiting for Volke, who was five minutes late. Anya and Vagrant had already left with Edwin. Rook had watched them fly away on the advanced glider devices. Hed never been afraid of heights before, but now seemed like a damn good time to try it out. He was currently sat at one of Alistairs chairs, staring at the door and waiting for the fenrye to arrive. He wasnt sure what this adventure would be like; spending a week or so with a creature just months ago hed have attacked on sight or ran from for his life. He tried to fight the indoctrinated thoughts with memories of Volke so far. Hed been a good but merciless teacher, and had sadly made no real efforts to befriend any of the four new callers. He was clearly good friends with Saar and the others, but had so far been quite cold and professional to Wyatt, with the occasional threat and sinister remark to keep him on his toes.

The door swung open and Volke padded in... at least Wyatt thought it was Volke. In truth, the figure was completely garbed in robes and hidden by a hood, so it was impossible to tell who was beneath all that cloth. Breakfast! Yeah, it was him. Are you ready to fly, cazak? Ready as Ill ever be... So no, then? Wyatt sighed, rolling his eyes Ill be fine. Lets do this. Volke moved by Wyatt, several unseen metallic objects clinking together beneath the shroud ...Why do you look like a carpet? Tee ka. The Wolfbane Pact, the ones we call GorrYuul... The Brother Slayers... they do not appreciate my presence. I must... mask... myself. Ah... course.... Do you ever get deployed to The Scarred Lands?... The two of them climbed the winding staircase to the towers summit Yes, ka. But it is rare. A raeal is taught to accept death. We are... at peace with our own noxal... our mortality. It is rare we linger, gorr. A second room was at the top of the stairs lined with shutters that opened to the east, west, north and south. There were racks with around two dozen gliders currently stored on, with an old prototype hanging from the ceiling for display. On a table nearby was an assortment of wranglerbuilt gear, including the warder, the suppressor and the torch. Volke strapped on a warder and nothing else, so Wyatt did the same. The fenrye then headed over to the west shutter and pulled it open. A few flakes of snow and a gust of wind hit him instantly. In the dim skies, the sun was still rising. Wyatt looked past Volke, admiring the view. The Ivory Reach stretched far into the distance, and through the clouds that floated nearby, one could make out the land below; Norvask. Volke moved over to the glider rack and recovered one, unfolding it. Here. Let me show. With the gliders wings revealed, Volke began to indicate to certain parts These bracers are for your legs. They snap shut, yes? Hold you firm. You do not want legs dangling down. A leather harness-like thing was flapping in the wind from the gliders central body This you get inside and strap in. Holding your own body weight for many hours can be difficult, so this fixes that. This part of the frame, you hold onto. He pointed to a few grip pads on the front of the gliders frame. Finally he tapped a button that was near said holding points This button releases legs and body, lets you dangle, and drop. Can land on feet or roll. I prefer to roll, much more fun. He strapped the glider on, stepping into the binds clapping them shut. You steer by banking left and right. You dive and ascend by forcing the nose up and down. Simple. Already strapped into the glider, Volke shuffled over to the opening. Wyatt followed the instructions, tightening the harness around his body and ensuring his legs and body were properly secured. He hopped over to Volke once he was happy with the bindings. All good! he yelled over the wind. Keep your body.... ergh... how you say... vertical? I think you mean horizontal! Ah! Yes! Ha! Think of the mistakes occurring if you listen too well. He pointed in a direction. Based on the compass-like rooms indications, he was pointing south west. We head that way. Follow close and try not to get lost. If you do, use Talazon to direct you to Brongarde. He knows this world! Got it! Then fly, Cazak! See the world as a bird, not a hog. With that, he leapt forward and disappeared from sight, plummeting straight down. Wyatt gasped, peering over the edge, but sighed with relief

when he realised the wind had caught Volke. The fenrye cheered and began to soar away. Wyatt took a deep breath. It was now or never. He shuffled into a leaping position, and dived. The wind rushed by him, the snow stung his face and ground approached at a rather frightening speed. Just as Volkes had done, however, the wings caught the air, billowing out slightly and lifting him out of the nose dive and into the air. He immediately had full control over the device, but made sure to keep his fingers away from the release button. That was not what he needed right now. The mountains of the reach swept by as Wyatt weaved through clouds, powdery flakes curving around the sylph glider frames. He felt overjoyed quite quickly. This was the only way to travel. He would work Alistair hard until he found a way to glide uphill. He caught sight of Volke about fifty metres away, and stuck to his tail while surveying the land below, trapped in a tragic but hauntingly beautiful frozen state. Looking down, he even saw a few ivorn skittering about between the peaks. They were ants now, and hed outgrown them. A strong wind buffeted his gliders flank, so he executed a quick roll to maintain full control. His laughs echoed through The Reach, with no one to hear them but the glacial constructs beneath him.

Chapter Twenty One The Bar Set High

Two Hundred and Eighteen Days Ago So, now you know who was capable of persuading me to take my own life, who was capable of converting a wrangler, and of restoring The Palecallers to even a fraction of its former glory with just one remaining member of the order. A divine, Wyatt, a real live god. Im prepared to bet it caught you at least a little off guard. I hope you paid him a degree of respect: This is, after all, Glace... quite possibly the only entity on this world solely responsible for preservation of all life. He handles all of us. Without him, recruitment would be nigh impossible. Its tradition that the initiates assemble before Glace before their first deployment. Its only fair that you know who youre serving before you actually go ahead and serve. Not only that, but its also to instil a sense of loyalty... whether it be through awe, respect, or maybe even fear. None of us have ever tested the wrath of Krosinox, but the old texts state he was capable of flash freezing entire continents, and turning armies into statuaries with nothing but a wave of his hand... Of course, theres proof to suggest he has ever or will ever do such a thing, or indeed that he is truly capable of it, but when you stand in his presence and take it all in... well... lets just say I find it highly believable. During the war, the Divines watched their people slaughter one another. They witnessed genocide of their faithful subjects and the blood bathed victory of the ones that turned against them in light of the unknown. Its said that never once did they join the ranks of their people. Never once did they raise a blade against the humans or vermus, nor did they provide morale support or medical care for the faithful when their forces took heavy losses. They were, without a doubt, neutral parties in this battle to overthrow them...They played no part in their own reckoning. Considering the lore that describes their almost limitless power... Ive always wondered why. Glace and the Callers told me on numerous occasions how the divines dont like to interfere with mortal life, but they never gave me a solid reason... or at least a reason I deemed solid. I recall Glace stating how the humans and vermus had chosen a path already, and the world was no longer his home, but thats not how the humans have worked and shouldnt be how the divines work either. We dont choose between paths, we fill every damn one until theres no room for anything else. The uprising could have been quelled, the resistance cut short. With a few surgical strikes, the entire war could have been averted... but the divines never stepped in...Now theres two ways you can look at this: You can side with Glace, and state it wasnt his world and wasnt his place to interject. He had no right, and ergo had no reason. Or you can consider the fact that the divines didnt just watch the turmoil unfold... they allowed it. Im not one for blasphemy, and even in death, I will serve the Divines available to me... but I will never see the world through a single pair of eyes. We all need more perspective, otherwise we have no choice but to believe whatever is placed before us first... Personally, son, it makes me think; if the divines are essentially the great and benevolent beings many of us have come to love or even worship, then what is it they are willing to lose? What is it they are able to sacrifice? Where is their breaking point? And do they know something we dont that enables them to make these decisions? Theres something to think about on your first mission... but uh, try not to lose focus. Today is a big day, after all.

Present Day Wyatt had to pull out of a dive after his fathers voice had temporarily incapacitated him midflight. He was surprised the idiot hadnt anticipated there being a problem when shutting down most external senses during a dangerous act that required them. Hed left behind the jagged, inhospitable peaks of The Ivory Reach now, and had successfully glided all the way to the plains of Norvask. He was still a fair way off the ground, the sylph frame of his glider providing him with plenty of lift. The once green grasslands he and Darius had rode through were now veiled with a thick blanket of snow, much of it untouched by any form of life. The odd sets of footprints and Glacenox-fairing animals could occasionally be spotted in the infinite sea of white. Grim wisps of cloud drifted through the dull skies, and Volke was among them, in the distance. Wyatt had been tailing him closely as instructed for the last few hours. Theyd already flown over a number of small settlements and villages, but at this height, they may well have simply looked like birds or wyte from the mountains. The trip had been somewhat uneventful, with nothing too jarring occurring other than the odd strong gust of wind. Thin flakes of snow were dotted throughout the air, but the flurry was heavier towards the ground where there was more of it for the gales to manipulate. A few flakes thudded against Wyatts pupils and he squinted for the fiftieth time. He would bring his goggles next flight, as this was getting ridiculous. Through his half-shut eyes, he spotted the structures of another, larger town emerging in the distance. He noticed Volke make a few hand gestures and start to descend. This must have been Brongarde. Wyatt took a few deep breaths; this had been the part hed been dreading. Flying through the air was one thing, but plummeting from it and hitting the ground was another. Hed convinced himself that, even in light of a little accident, the blanket of snow would break at least some of his fall. Rook pushed his glider down into a steady drop, instantly beginning to accelerate. For several minutes, Wyatt circled around the town itself, getting lower and lower, bit by bit. Volke had already vanished after hed confidently nose-dived out of sight, but Wyatt was going to take this easy. Slow and steady wins the race; thats what the boring people always said. There was very little activity on the streets of Brongarde currently, as was to be expected in the height of The Cold Dark. The snowy streets had been shovelled and trodden with fresh footprints, however, so signs of life were definitely there. Almost every house had a flickering light emanating from its windows and a stream of dark smoke billowing from their chimneys. Rook fondly recalled his own past Glacenoxes, huddled in front of the flames of his mothers hearth, fearing for his unstable little life... come to think of it, maybe fondly wasnt quite the right word... With the wind still howling in his ears, Wyatts drop drew towards its conclusion. When he was ten metres above the ground, he hit the switch on his glider, releasing his body from the straps and shackles. His feet swung down, ready to support him as he glided straight into the snow. He however forgot to focus on his leycast when coming into land, and so the snow remained powdery and loose. Wyatt disappeared into the layer with a small white cloud, his glider sliding across the surface and coming to a standstill. Rook poked his head out from the snow and shook his head to remove the frozen flakes from his hair. The snow on the outskirts of town was as high as his stomach, and the ground was completely out of sight. Hed need to tread carefully, else he might stand on a snow snapper or some other lurker below. Squinting through the light snowstorm, Volke was still nowhere to be seen. Brongarde

was right in front of him though, and if Volke was to be anywhere, he would be there. Rook stood up and brushed himself down, shuffling over to his glider and picking it up. He pushed the wings back into the frame and collapsed it down, placing the folded item in a strap over his shoulder. Giving a quick look at his surroundings and checking that the coast was clear, he clambered up onto the snows crust and began to walk across it using the ley. He would shut off the cast before entering the village itself. The warm light from the cottage windows contrasted to the drab grey of Rimes ambience, creating an almost artistic scene. The flickering flames within caused glittering shards to glint within the snow. Wyatt arrived at a frozen river, complete with a quaint little stone bridge over it. The bridge had been shovelled clear, so Wyatt could use it without suspicion to enter the town. Brongarde was of similar design to Shadowfell; consisting primarily of primitive but intelligently built cottages heavily insulated with mud and straw. There were no animals to be seen roaming the streets, and the large open space at the towns centre where the markets were likely held was currently empty and silent. Like most villages, it seemed, Brongardes market season came to an end when the world succumbed to the cold. Icicles hung from wooden awnings and thatched roofs, splitting the light the passed through their prismatic forms and leaving faded multicoloured patches here and there. Silhouettes of bulky norvaskans would sometimes be visible through the frosted glass windows of the towns many homes, and considerably more in the towns tavern; The Ice Recluse. A single chapel loomed over the rest of the town, but its doors and windows were currently boarded up. Perhaps this towns leader didnt appreciate the Divines. In the village square, standing over what looked like a frozen well, was Volke, still covered head to toe in thick, concealing robes. As Wyatt approached, he noticed a few people scrubbing at their own windows to try and get a better view outside. Volke was staring into the darkness of the well. It likely bore deep into the earth where a supply of fresh water was available. It was doubtful however that this water supply was still in a liquid state Lose something? Wyatt asked, peering into the abyss at Volkes side. No... I was... curious. Why tunnel into the earth in such a way? Is it a mine? Youve never seen a well before? Youve been on this continent for thirty years... I have seen them, ka... but I work alone. Never have I had the chance to... hrm... ask. Theres a water spring down there. You lower a bucket and scoop fresh water out. Volke looked puzzled ...There is a river...is it not enough? Its a river. Water there is dirty. Yall have to boil it first which can be a hassle. ...Why? ...Cause we get sick when we drink bad water. Dont you? Volke frowned, straightening up I have never heard of... bad water. In Skatheek, water is a blessing, no matter what its source... My people never dug to find it... Perhaps they should. He turned to Wyatt There is unrest in this town. I smell it. The echo? Wyatt asked, peering around Grel. No, pancake. This is unrest amongst the living ones. He sniffed the air, a cloud of steam escaping from his hood momentarily They anticipate. It is not fear... What moon is this? Wyatt thought, shrugging off the fact hed just been called a pancake Glacenox, the sixtieth. Volke nodded with an open maw, knowingly Ahhh... they come. We should move before they arrive, Cazak. They will draw attention to us Volke began to walk away, with Wyatt hurriedly on his tail

Whos coming? Volke looked over his shoulder, before nodding to the south The ones you call; The Formless. Wyatt clicked his fingers with realisation. He knew that date had meant something but he hadnt quite put a finger on it. The sixtieth of Glacenox was one of the twelve days of the year The Formless left Core and spread across the continent. We do not want to lose our equipment. Fourteen years ago, one of them took Vulpes spear. She could not stop it. Aint surprised. Back in Fern we could do all sorts to them and theyd just keep walkin... always farl damn walkin. We only had a little blacksmith and they always hit that first when the rest of the metal werent enough. The people of the town will amass in its centre, awaiting the Formlesss tribute. This will grant us the opportunity we need to locate the spirit. Volke raised a closed fist, and his reptilian hound familiar leapt out of a pool of materialising light. It loyally lowered its head and awaited its masters command There is an echo in one of the northern habitats. Check each of them and report your findings to me. The hound nodded, turning on its haunches and dashing away, fading into a gleaming light. Volke took out a list from his bag and checked it over While he finds our echo, we shall sort out some unfinished business from the market, yes? he tore the list in half and gave one to Wyatt Here are two tasks for you. Nice and easy... This man wants to give this note to his family. He took out a letter and handed it over And there is another man named Trip Grajong... he drinks at the tavern... you must purchase him a beverage on behalf of this soldier... Gaston. He pointed at the torn instructions in Wyatts hand. We meet back here soon. How do I know who these people are? Or where to find them?... Wyatt asked as Volke began to move away. The fenrye stopped, before waving at the various houses You suffer no handicap, waffle. Use your tongue. Use your diplomacy! Ask the people! Why dont the spirits come with us? The ones who gave us the job? Wouldnt that make it easier?... Volke nodded but wagged his clawed finger You forget, cazak. If they were watching us, they would be unable to seek. We put them to work. They pay for our service. They can confirm completion of their unfinished business if they must once they have served their time. Like Lucian, they can access stamps of time and memory should it be relevant to them. He began to make shooing gestures Now go. Do your job. Me?... I handle the other things... ...What like?... Volke chortled, before nodding at the large chapel I get this re-opened. A faithful died protecting it... Wyatt blinked. He really was getting off easy here ...How the farl are ya gonna do that? Volke pointed over to the largest house in the entire village, likely belonging to the mayor I use my diplomacy. He cracked his knuckles, chuckled lowly and padded away And do not forget! You have a war hero at your side! If you have any troubles, send him to me! the fenrye shouted back. Wyatt wished he hadnt; the fenrye accent was quite distinctive and he didnt want to look like some sort of traitor. Fortunately, no one seemed to notice. Wyatt strolled through the snow-globe town, considering on where he should begin. He didnt want to knock on the doors of angry norvaskans unless it was a last resort, so he decided hed begin with a more public location; the tavern. In no way did the promise of alcohol influence his decision, as that would be silly and unprofessional. Well maybe a tiny bit, but he was quite well off now; standard issue coin pouches were given to each Palecaller upon deployment in case their missions required them to dish out a few sancs. Wyatt had enough money in his bags to purchase a small

house, although that wasnt overly impressive; with Rimes huge under population problems, houses were often cheaper than carriages and decent weapons. Rook pushed open the door to the tavern and walked in. Normally hed welcome the pleasant warmth of a bar during Glacenox, but he barely even felt a thing as the temperature shifted from fatally low levels to hospitably high ones. A large pile of metal tools, iron ingots and unrefined ore was amassed on the taverns floor. Wyatt recognised a formless offering when he saw one, and this one was textbook. A few people turned to look at him but quickly lost interest. Hed made sure his daggers and other telling objects were out of sight. His sleeper fur coat got a few looks as it always did when he was in Norvask, but it was the only thing that seemed to interest people right now. Relieved, he moved to the bar and pulled up a stool beside a pair of barbaric looking town guards. Firebrand. He ordered from the barkeep. The man behind the bar set about grabbing a bottle of whiskey and pouring a glass while Wyatt turned to the rather unstable looking gentlemen he was sharing the space with. Hey. Im looking for a few people. Could you help me out? the guards gave him some fierce looks. Clearly they werent in a cooperative mood Were off duty till the cloaks get here. Yeah. Beat it, skullok. Wyatt took out his coin pouch which immediately caught the enforcers attentions. Too bad. Guess Ill give this money to some hungry hungry orphans. The guards grumbled, looking at one another before yielding to their urges. This was too easy. Fine, outsider. What do you want? Im looking a few folk. A family by name of Tigaro, and a fella named Trip Grajong. The guards exchanged looks once again before turning back to Rook What for? one of them asked. Wyatt took out the letter Volke had given him I have a few messages to deliver. Courier work, really. Thats a lot of coin you have there for a courier, stranger. Wyatt smirked, waving to one of the windows If I werent paid handsomely, you honestly think Id go running around in that there shindig? This is farling Glacenox in Norvask, not some warm city street. The guards grunted. They seemed convinced, and conveyed this by pointing out a group of men sat in the corner The one with the long hair is Trip. The Tigaros dont come here but they live somewhere near our tanners place. Wyatt beamed, taking out a few dozen coins and granting the guards a healthy reward for the assistance Thanks, pals. He paid the barkeep and took his drink with him, approaching the rather sour group of individuals. They were already into what appeared to be their third round of drinks, and were a little bit sombre and tipsy. The one named Trip had long dark dreadlocks and bags under his eyes. He looked relatively harmless but his friends were quite well armed, so Wyatt maintained an approachable demeanour. Hey. He said, pulling up a chair and joining the four norvaskans at their table. They made no objections or attempts to stop him, but they didnt do much in the way of welcoming either. Trip Grajong? Wyatt asked, just to make sure. Trip nodded, sadly, rubbing his weary eyes and straightening up in his chair from his previously slouched position Aye thats me. What do you need? A friend of yours owes you a drink. Wyatt slid the firebrand whiskey across the table to Trip, who stopped it with his gloved hand. He and his companions looked confused Its from Gaston. He insisted. His confusion turned into sorrow, then from sorrow into wonder. He looked Wyatt up and down while the others gave accusing looks

Were... you with him... when he died? I was, and he wasnt prepared to go without fulfilling this task. I made it my own... when he couldnt. Trip managed a smile, reaching a hand across the table. Wyatt took and shook it. Thank you. This war is getting worse by the day... Im glad there are still some soldiers out there with something under that armour... he retracted his hand and closed his fingers around the drink that Wyatt had brought him The next time I see a fenrye... Ill make sure they know not to screw with Norvask. He raised the drink To Gaston! his friends joined the toast To Gaston! Wyatt stood without a word and slipped away while the men drank to their lost comrades memory. He felt a strange warmth within him, even as he stepped back into the frigid wasteland. Perhaps this is what it felt like to help people for a change. He had to admit, it felt a lot nicer than robbing them blind... even if it was a little less rewarding... materialistically speaking. Once outside and back in the snow, Wyatt scratched his head and looked around. He wasnt sure where the tanners were, but even if he had known, the location of the Tigaro household had been vague at best. Itd help if he knew their family crest, as every norvaskan home had one hanging on its walls or doors. Perhaps it was time to bring out the owl. Checking to see no one was watching him first, Wyatt brought his hand to his chest and performed the Pact salute. The snowflakes dancing through the air around him began to glow ever so slightly, and several of them were drew toward some sort of invisible singularity. They compacted together, forming a glowing light which took the shape of a fray owl. Details sprung up over Talazons ethereal form, the last of which were his smoking silver eyes. With a silent flapping of wings, Talazon caught himself before he fell and flew to Wyatts shoulder; a spot he had already become uncomfortably keen with. Wyatt cleared his throat, looking at the owl. It returned the gaze, and Wyatt already felt like he was somehow beneath this creature. Talazon was, according to the others, a war hero, and the familiar of the greatest Palecaller that ever lived... How was he meant to have authority over such a thing? Hed not had any time alone with his new familiar yet, and hadnt seen him since the dismissal last night following Glaces welcome. ....Uh... Hi? the bird just stared, menacingly. No wonder these owls were extinct; they were really bloody scary. Hey, so. Uh... I have a job for you. Still nothing but the evil eye. Wyatt was sure the owl could understand him, however. Thered be no point in him if he couldnt. Theres a family, by the name of Tigaro. The name should be on their crest. I need you to find the tanners in this town and examine the crests of the houses surrounding it. Come find me when you find the Tigaro household, ok? Talazon blinked, for the first time, before bending his legs and spreading his wings. With several flaps and a dim flash, the bird had vanished. Some companionship he was. How was he meant to have a friendly relationship with his familiar if all the damn thing did was stare like a psychotic villain? Wyatt now found himself awkwardly standing in the villages square alone, waiting for his owl to return. To the townsfolk gawking out from their glazed windows, he must have looked either suicidal or stupid. The sound of a clock tower chimed from somewhere behind the chapel. It was hard to imagine that it was already midday, what with the skies still being so gloomy. Normally the midday chime would cause a brief break at the markets and recess for food, but in Glacenox most activities grinded to a halt. Unusually, however, this didnt seem to be the case in Brongarde today, as the ringing bell had seemingly summoned the entire town. Villagers and guards dressed in heavy Glacenox clothing came pouring onto the streets, massing primarily in the village centre before the well. From the tavern came all the men Wyatt had met earlier. They each had armfuls of metal, probably from the

pile that had been stored inside. They had to make several back and forth runs to get the entirety of the offering in the villages centre. Rather than amass all of the metal in a single mound, however, they chose to scatter it across the ground like crumbs for the birds. Once the tribute was roughly in place, the guards began to move around the space quickly, springing what appeared to be traps and preparing nets. A group of them had even acquired an older brass bell and were hauling it between the six of them. They must have intended to use it as a prison, if they could get it over their targets head. Wyatt shuffled into the crowds periphery, watching with intrigue. Hed never seen an entire town mobilise before the residents of Core before. It was an understandable precaution; the invaders had a pesky habit of breaking and entering if they had a good reason. If Wyatt feared for the villages safety, he would have intervened, but he already knew exactly what would happen. The towns bell chimed for the final time, and the crowd fell silent, staring out to the south through the shrouding mist created by the light snowstorm. Wyatt followed their gazes, occasionally looking to the skies for signs of his owl. The dark shape of a single man appeared through the fog, walking slowly towards Brongarde, the long folds of a cloak flapping behind him in the wind. Seconds later, three more shadows faded into sight, their strides perfectly synced with the others. Before long there were twenty, then thirty, then forty of the strange silhouettes, marching closer, unhindered by the snow which seemed to shift aside unnaturally as they approached. The marching tide drew closer, and the villagers stood their ground. The invaders were all thickly garbed in masking robes, hoods, gloves, veils, even bandages. Not a single millimetre of skin was exposed. They donned a dark purple with stretches and flakes of gold dappling the patterns that stretched across their garments. It was a wonder how they could even see where they were going; as their eyes were totally concealed behind rows of thick cloth. Their true forms were almost impossible to distinguish behind these walls of fabric, which is where the creatures had acquired their name; The Formless. The forty or so Formless walkers made a beeline for the metal tribute at the towns centre. The crowd willingly parted as the first of the Formless reached them; there was no man strong enough on the planet that could even slow one of them down. The Formless did not acknowledge the humans in any way. Even as some of the villagers threw taunts, and some of the children tossed small stones, the shrouded mysteries of Rime did not even turn their heads. Their leader reached the offering, bending over for a moment to scoop up an armful of ingots. Without a sound, the Formless individual mechanically turned and began to depart, once again passing through the crowd and heading off to the south. Wyatt found himself thinking about what his father along with Orphus and Kingsly had discussed about the concept of life. If anything, these creatures had even less life than the ivorn. Their behaviour was rigid and mechanical, and they didnt seem to possess any sort of awareness to their surroundings. Glancing around, Wyatt could tell the blacksmiths of the town were not pleased. The fact remained that most of their metalwork had to go to these creatures every thirty days in exchange for a different metal which would slowly become less and less valuable over time the more the Formless brought it in: Gold. One by one, almost in single-file, the formless approached the tribute, extracting two or free items from upon it, and leaving the exact same way theyd appeared, their feet treading within their own shallow footprints. There was usually one though, one that (the people had Rime used the term) malfunctioned. One that recognised an alternate source of metal from perhaps an even more efficient source. This time,

a formless set his eyeless gaze upon a child, who was holding a filed down metal woolorth toy, built entirely from scrap metal. The formless broke away from the unit and approached the little boy, who started quaking in his furry boots and backing away. No one came to help him, as there would be no point. The boy must have debated running, but the formless would have never stopped. It would have travelled through mires, over mountains and across seas, just to acquire that toy. Once theyd assigned themselves a target, it seemed nothing could sway them. Eh, lad! Come here! one of the six men holding the large brass bell called out. Wyatt smirked as the child floundered through the snow to reach the barbaric brutes. The formless followed, the snow shifting aside as its legs brushed against it. Just hold out that there woolorth for the farling thing to reach. Pa made this for me... It wont take the toy. We wont let it. Right, lads? The others chuckled. The child reluctantly held his toy at arms length. The approaching formless sensed cooperation, stretching out its own gloved hand, its fingers poised and ready for the snatch. NOW! The six burly Norvaskans heaved the bell to shoulders height will all their might, and tossed it over the formlesss head. The formless disappeared from sight as the bell slammed to the floor with a metallic chime. Even through the snow, the bell crashed down with immense weight, pinning its prisoner within. Ha! Lets see you get out of that one! The other formless paid no mind to their captured brother, proceeding with the silent acceptance of their reluctant gift. Wyatt watched the bell, closely. The Formless were strong, but surely they werent that strong? He half expected the bell to come flying off like it was made of foam, but there seemed to be absolutely no activity occurring within. He quickly snapped his gaze back to the child when he heard his cries of misery. The Formless was standing over the boy, the toy now in his grasp. ...What the...farl?... How did it do that?! That aint no ley! The norvaskans backed away a little as the formless marched through them, the toy crumpling a little in its vice grip. The boy bawled loudly and ran home. They took a moment to quickly check beneath the bell, and sure enough, the hollow chamber within was empty. The formless had escaped in mere seconds, and without lifting, breaking or digging through a thing. As the tribute pile grew smaller and smaller, and more and more formless disappeared into the distance with armfuls of their catch, a final formless appeared on the foggy horizon, holding a large stone chest. The town law enforcement sprung into action, forming a perimeter around the well with drawn weapons while the villagers waited, expectantly. Little by little, the last of the formless arrived, moving through the crowd and breaching the defensive circle set by the guards. It placed the chest in the snow, stood up straight, remained motionless for roughly five seconds, and then turned. It walked away without another hesitation, following its kind into the haze. One of the strangest things about the formless was their apparent desire to uphold some sort of regulation while stealing metal without consent. They always paid for the iron, and they paid well. A guard approached the intricate stone chest and kicked the slab off its top. The gleam of gold and shine of jewels added some much needed colour to the bleak grey ambience of Glacenox. More gold.... Guess they didnt listen. We have more gold than we do iron now.

Urgh. Make sure the blacksmiths get their share. With any luck theyll be able to buy some more ore from the Pact trade routes. Norvask was an independent nation, and didnt follow the same rules as the rest of the kingdom. In most of Sovreignous, the gold given by Formless was hastily taken by Pact guardsmen and transported to Sanctus treasury, where it was held indefinitely. This prevented gold becoming some commodity on the market, and kept its prices healthy and high. In Norvask, this was likely a different issue, so gold had little price here, but did in the other provinces. Lets get this evenly distributed to account for losses then. Everyone form a line. You first. The exchange began as Wyatt watched on from a distance. A slight flash in the corner of his eye and a cold feeling upon his shoulder told him Talazon had returned. Wyatt turned to look at his familiar, happily. Any luck? The owl nodded, pointing a wing down an alleyway. Good work. Lets head on over and deliver this letter. A second nod. Quite the conversationalist, aintcha? Talazon gave one of his now already familiar crazy stares. Wyatt took the warning and aborted his prying, heading off in the direction the owl had provided. Wyatt walked through the snowy streets, between the longhouses and wooden shacks that made up this residential quarter. The distinguishable, disgusting smell of a tannery reached his nostrils long before he actually saw it. Whoevers idea it was to put a tannery in a residential sector had a serious problem. Some industries and businesses stayed open throughout the entire year. While most agricultural operations came to a stand-still, smiths, leatherworkers and medicinal practitioners would remain functional. Weapons, protection and healthcare were just three of the things people desperately needed during Glacenox. The warmer months were primarily for gathering food, particularly dried meat like the cart of snatched venison Wyatt had sold at Ferns market. Talazon would occasionally point a wing to lead Wyatt down another alleyway or around a corner. He seemed content, sat upon the Callers soldier and casually leading him around like a woolorth with a carrot. Each houses crest was swinging gently in the wind, some poorly oiled and squeaking, loudly. Wyatt checked the names of each as he passed, but was confident his bird would inform him when hed reached his destination. The sound of the treasure division faded over time as Rook moved further from the towns centre. Most, if not all of these houses were likely empty; it was possible the Tigaros were one of the families currently queuing to receive some of the Formless gold. The foul smelling leather shop now on his left, Wyatt found himself facing several rows of terraced wooden houses. Talazon gave a few more points with the tip of his spectral wing, guiding Rook to the objective. Two minutes later, Wyatt found himself standing before a rather inconspicuous and very normal looking cottage. A crest swung from above the door on a pair of chains, displaying a scene of clashing ursorocs. The word Tigaro was inscribed in bronze lettering across a silver plaque upon it. The dancing light of a heath fire escaped from the windows, but there were currently no obvious signs of current occupation; they may well have been out. Wyatt strolled up to the door, checking his weapons and gear were properly hidden behind his sleeper hide cloak, before knocking thrice upon the homes door. The minor force of the impact sent clumps of snow sliding from the slanted roof and thudding into an already large pile nearby. Thirty seconds ticked by, and still no one answered. Wyatt knocked again, on the off chance the residents simply hadnt heard his first attempt. There was still no response. The family must have been at the gathering; a slight pain. Hed wanted to join Volke and find the echo before treasure had been properly allocated. Perhaps he could simply leave the letter behind and be on his way. He

removed the envelope from his coat pocket and approached the insulated letterbox. The box was bordered with several thick layers of fur to prevent escape of heat. As Wyatt was about to slip the note inside, a new voice spoke right in his ear Now thats just lazy... Wyatt jolted, snapping the letter back to his side and turning to face the owl. Its efficient! Rook argued. Its stupid. That note isnt even written in her husbands handwriting. Shell think its some sort of con. Would you believe a letter from Aston if it came sliding under your bedroom door? Rook narrowed his eyes How the farl do you even know about him?... The owl narrowed its eyes and its expression warped into a sort of smirk I know because you know. We are linked now, bound, synced, connected. You are me... and I am you. He gestured to the letter But I am also Talazon. And I am also right. Do not botch this job just for the sake of speed and efficiency. This requires delicacy, and care. This family lost its father, its husband. They should have more than just a letter. They should have peace, else, what are we creating but another cycle. Wyatt tucked the note away, grumpily You sound like my old man... Didnt know him, but Ill take the compliment. Now sit tight and be patient like a good Palecaller. Rook slumped against the house wall and slid into a seated position beneath the porch. ...Think I liked you more when you didnt talk... Rook muttered Careful what you wish for, sir. The Cold Dark can be a lonely place. Talazon passively held an attitude with each sentence. He spoke with an echoic, medium toned and slightly snide voice, and exchanged glances conveying patronisation and disapproval. You dont seem to keen with me. Wyatt said, as a friendly icebreaker. Thats not going to be a problem, is it? Its your shoulder; you can evict me if you must. The owl tilted his head at Rook Dont take it personally. The bar was set fairly high. You wont ever be Gray. None of you will. He added, as a final note Eh... No offence. None taken. Yall have to tell me all about him once we get some down time. Id rather not, but if those are my orders, so be it. Wyatt sighed. Ever since the owl had materialised, hed felt they were probably a poor match. He was no war hero, and couldnt really compare. To Talazon, he must have looked like a simpleton. ...So whyd you pick me? Why not Vagrant? Farl, why not Saar in the generation before ours? Shes the champion now. You needed me. Thats why I came. Wyatt frowned ...Whyd I need you? It was uncertain whether or not Talazon was prepared to answer this question, but before he had a chance, the sound of feet through snow reached Wyatts ears. Talazon vanished from sight without another word as a woman came around the corner, holding a bundled baby in her arms and being tailed by two young girls. The entire family was covered with hides and furs, this small trip from their home to the town centre being enough to freeze the skin of the unshielded. The two children were carrying large golden platters encrusted with jewels, and were occasionally using them as sleds and giggling, merrily. The mother told them off when they slid by her on the highly valuable pieces of crockery. Mjolla, Dai, stop that... We need those to sell if you want to have enough food for next Glacenox... The mother caught sight of Wyatt, who was busy scrabbling to his feet and brushing

himself down. Brave of you to sit alone in this cold. Its something we have no intention of doing. Are you waiting for us? Ms Tigaro? Yup, Ive been waitin for you. He pulled out the letter once again I have a letter for you. I felt itd be better to give it to you in person. A letter? Youre delivering letters in this? The woman took the note from Wyatts outstretched hand Whos it from? Someone important, I imagine... Mhm. You could say that. Wyatt waited patiently as the woman tore the envelope open and removed its contents. She unfolded the parchment and began to read, taking a moment as she did so to open her door and shepherd her children inside. What is this crap? She lowered the letter Is this a sick joke? Please keep reading, maam. Wyatt requested Theres information in there no one else could know... The woman glared fiercely. She returned to the page and read the final few paragraphs. Although her expression definitely softened at least a little, she still looked thoroughly unconvinced. Drake did not write this. No, he didnt. We wrote it for him. Youre faking my husbands death? Is he that desperate to get away from me!? There hasnt been a vex-eye* sighted in this area for years! Now youre telling me Drake was eaten by one. You know what, fine. He wins. Tell him to stay away from me. We dont need him or his damn -... She was cut off as Wyatt pulled aside a flap on his cloak and held up an ivoryon dagger. The mother looked at the dagger for a long time. It took about thirty seconds before her eyes began to well with tears. She looked at the note again, then back to the blade. Without another word, she inhaled deeply, gave a simple nod of acknowledgement, and retreated to the warmth of her house, the note still clenched tightly in her hand. The door swung shut behind her, and Wyatt sheathed his singing blade, walking away. Smooth. The owl reappeared, perched on the porch above the door with a shimmering glow. I suppose you could have stabbed her with that thing if shed still been unconvinced, but who wants to go through all that legality? The bird mockingly rolled his eyes, and Wyatt found himself quickly altering his opinion regarding this so-called paragon. Youre a lot more sarcastic than you were immortalised in stone, bud. Talazon swooped down to Rooks shoulder again, touching down with chilling wave through his skin. You are me, and I am you. If you cant accept me then youll never be at peace with yourself. Just bear in mind that the dagger trick wont work outside of Norvask... People around here, they know what to expect from a Palecaller... further West though? What you just did would be considered nothing more than a threat. Now if youre quite done, we have an echo to find. Wyatt gave an affirming nod, heading back down the snowy path he had already been guided along earlier. A few people from the treasure exchange passed by, but none of them seemed to pay Talazon any mind. Evidently he was invisible to them, like the spirits of the Market were. Mind going on ahead and seeing if Volke has made any progress? Ah, the fenrye. Never thought Id see the day where they were part the order... You know back *Vex-eye are some of the rarest and most elusive animals in Sovreignous. Vex-eye have advanced camouflage techniques, and can alter the pigments in their own fur to blend into almost any environment. Their coat is very expensive, and theyve been hunted to near extinction due to its unique behaviour. Vex-eye have long, slightly feline bodies with incredible agility and dexterity.

during the Necroley War when I first manifested, the fenrye had only just established the concept of leadership... Before their first Alpha came along, they savagely brutalised one another for the most trivial reasons... Thats great, but I need you to focus. Wyatt answered, with a sternness that felt a little forced, even to him. He tried to ignore the murderous look Talazon gave following the interruption. Go and locate Volke and his familiar. If hes finished up with the towns leader then hell be searching for the-... Wyatt didnt have time to finish as Volkes reptilian hound came casually running up the path towards him. Rook came to a standstill, allowing the familiar to slow to a halt and sit before him, obediently. The animal radiated a sort of military discipline, the kind of attitude to be expected from a fenrye such as Volke. The master waits for you. The creature spoke in a low, gruff voice. He requests that you follow. The familiar exchanged only the words it needed, before turning and trotting away. Wyatt followed, closely while Talazon started to hum a jaunty tune merrily in his right ear. The hound avoided the central square of the town, where the bustling crowd was still present, although gradually dispersing over time. It led Wyatt through a sequence of shady alleyways and across a small frozen stream via a quaint but strong wooden bridge. The animal led Rook into the northern residential area of the town, beyond the boarded up chapel. After several more minutes of walking, Volkes minion came to a stop outside of a clearly inhabited house. Like almost every other in the town, there were signs of a fire within and smoke escaping from the chimney. The house matched the aesthetic design of almost every other building in the town, and so Wyatt examined the walls for the family crest. He located the seal, the name Bragnar printed upon it. The lock to the door had been frozen and shattered, and it was now everso-slightly ajar. The master awaits within. The familiar said, coldly, before warping into a ball of light and vanishing with a flash. Wyatt glanced over his shoulder for signs of the homes resident. This was, to put it simply, breaking and entering; something Wyatt had been familiar with since childhood. Being caught within someones house aiding and abetting a fenrye however was a crime even he felt concerned by. What are you waiting for? Talazon asked following Wyatts obvious hesitation. Get in there and complete your mission. Wyatt narrowed his eyes, directing them towards his own familiar Dont tell me what to do. Im in charge here. Talazons pupils gleamed with a mischievous spark. Of course you are, master. My sincerest apologies. He faded away, his taunting eyes being the last thing to vanish. Wyatt inhaled and exhaled deeply several times to keep himself calm. He knew how to handle animals; you just had to show them who was boss. When he felt comfortable enough to proceed, he pushed the door to the wooden cottage open and stepped inside. The snow on Volkes fur had likely melted as hed stepped into the warm house, and so large damp paw prints were already visible on the wooden floorboards. The prints led up a staircase, and so Wyatt followed them, like a hunter tracking game. The prints led to the very top of the building and into a tight, compacted attic space. To access the attic, one had to climb a rickety looking ladder up through a small panel. The ladder was already deployed, and Wyatt could hear shuffling in the space above. He quickly clambered up into the attic, stooping his head low and squinting through the darkness. The form of the cloaked fenrye seemed even larger and even more imposing in this small space, but it was definitely Volke. His body was blocking something, but as he looked over his shoulder to see Wyatt enter, he moved aside. Behind Volke was a malnourished and tortured looking teenage boy, his body transparent, and occasionally

flickering. He was crouched over a pile of human bones, which were riddled with the tiny bite marks of syse and rats. ...What the farl is this?... Wyatt asked, crawling closer, making sure he didnt bump his head against the low supporting beams. Humanity. Volke answered, with a degree of disgust. But you will not learn details from me. Remember your training. Wyatt nodded, approaching the echo and positioning himself before it. The spirit paid him no attention; nor did it even seem to notice his presence. Yall left this world too soon. Tell me what wrongs there are to right. He cannot hear you... We must wait. An echo is incapable of thinking of anything but its unfinished business. They speak of it, to themselves... from time to time. Wyatt nodded, settling in for the wait. What if the houses owner comes back? He or she could call the guards... You made a mess down there. Would you call the guards if you had the body of a child in your attic? Wyatt blinked ...Well... no.... Draeg found the echo and gave me a description. In other circumstances, I would have been more gracious with my entry... but, ka... I have no respect for murderers... or their property... He scratched his muzzle, watching the boy Draeg will inform us if the grath, the resident, returns. Wyatt nodded, leaning back and sitting on his coat, his gaze once again passing over the grim mound of skeletal remains. He tried to keep the conversation going to neutralise the tension What is Draeg, anyway? Draeg is a cazak from The Scarred Lands. They are social hunters and scavengers that roam the Red Dust Run. Thats what a cazak is? So youve been calling me a scaly dog monster? Volke chuckled, quietly Cazak translates to pack hunter. To call you cazak is to call you part of my band. It is a term of respect, as well as name, beef joint. Volke playfully struck Wyatts shoulder. Wyatt flinched and his eyes went wide for a moment as the fenrye lashed out at him. He felt his heart racing momentarily before settling down again. Volke was clearly aware of what had just happened, and gave a slightly sympathetic but smug look Still afraid? Remember what fear smells like, poultry... Im not af-... Wyatts sentence trailed off as a low humming filled the air; a single, low, haunting note. The attics darkness briefly came alive, snuffing out the light creeping in from the attic hatch like a hand to a candle. The echos body distorted a few times, flickering like some sort of bad illusion. The low groaning tone grew louder, now accompanied by slow, grating sequence of breaths. ...Whats going on?... Wyatt whispered. Quiet... Volke responded, reassuringly. The withered looking fourteen year old slowly raised his head, speaking in barely a murmur. Cut me loose... unleash me... let the tides of anguish flow below... His body distorted once again, the droning in the air reaching its peak, before his head fell limp. The sounds faded and the light returned. The boy resumed his motionless silence, staring at the floor between his feet. Volke looked at Wyatt Thoughts? Wyatt checked initially for signs of a literal message. There didnt appear to be any binds that were holding the boy in place, but he had been locked in the attic without a doubt. Its not him he wants released, but his pain... and he wants it to go down below... Sounds like an old fashioned revenge story to me... Volke nodded in agreement

That was my conclusion also. Let us make sure we catch the right person then... As Volke awkwardly made his way to the trapdoor, Wyatt turned quickly to follow him with an uncertain stare So thats it? Were just going to murder someone because this ghost might have told us to? Volke reached the ladder and began to climb down. Before his head disappeared from sight, he looked back to Wyatt to answer his query This is not murder, drak. We are simply the tools of the undead. We are the spades that bury the seeds, and we are scythes that cut out the weeds. You see, yes? This is no more murdering than gardening is. He winked, before descending from Wyatts view. Wyatt scrabbled to follow him, shooting one last glance to the boy and his remains. He fought back the sickness as he clambered after the fenrye and shut the attic behind him. Reaching the bottom of the ladder, Wyatt almost bumped into Volke, who was chatting to Draeg; his familiar. So it is connected, then? Volke asked the scaled canine creature Affirmative, sir. The chapel was owned by a pair of individuals that began sacrificial rituals to appease the Divines... Only one of them was proven guilty... the other released. The one that walks free lives in this place of residence. Clearly they are guilty as well. If the towns judgement did not suffice, then mine will. The chapel will be in better hands now that I have ensured the transfer of its care to another. Acknowledged, sir. Ive identified the suspect. Target is en route to this location. Relaying information to you now. The two of them closed their eyes for about five seconds, before opening them again with seemingly no change Information received. Good work. Let us organise a welcome party. Volke turned to Wyatt, who had been watching from a metre away The targets coming. Follow, jerky. Wyatt almost had to jog to keep up with the wide, hasty strides of the shrouded fenrye. Are we sure this is the best idea!? I dont mean to object, buuuut... You do not trust me as I am fenrye? You fear I will be to... direct. Wyatt struggled with his next sentence as he tried to think of a way to complete it without offending anyone. Its just... not how humans do things... usually. Ive seen wranglers do much worse than this. ...Yeah, well... debatable on whether or not theyre human... Volke rushed down the stairs with Wyatt closely tailing him. Just think about this! I have been thinking about this for thirty years! This is our purpose, kessa! We do what we do as we must. Do not assume you know this duty better than I. Volke positioned himself by the door, hiding himself just left of the frame, ready to ambush. Wyatt was about to make further objections, but he was immediately hushed Enough. You will damn this entire operation. Be still your tongue or I shall remove it. Wyatts shoulders slumped; a sign of submission. He let out a sigh, moving out of sight to allow the ambush to continue without complications. Silence swept through the house, occasionally interrupted only by the cracking and snapping of the burning fire within the homes hearth. Volkes bated breath came out in clouds, his stance poised, his expression contorted with focus. The door swung open and Volke responded immediately. He snatched a bewildered woman from the streets, yanking her inside, one of his clawed paws pressed over her mouth to quell the screams. He quickly dragged her into the living room while Wyatt shut the door and slid shut as many curtains as he could. He still felt quite unwilling, but Volke was right; Wyatt did have very little experience. If this was how it was meant to go, then he simply had to play along, no matter how gruesome the

results. Volke threw the woman into one of her own armchairs and pointed his wrist at her, the suppressor ballistic device clicking to life. Scream, and I will end you. The woman trembled, but obeyed. Volke pulled his hood down to reveal his face, which, if anything, simply made the woman even more afraid. F...F..f..fen... The body in your attic. Explain. She pleadingly looked towards Wyatt Help me!? This monster is going to kill me! Wyatt raised his eyebrows, before doing a sort of shrug Eh... You should probably tell him what he wants, then. If youre innocent, hell let you go. I...I dont know what body youre talking about! Young male, no older than fourteen years. Volke began Short dark hair, lightweight structure. Died malnourished and starving in YOUR home. P...Please! I dont know anything! Volke growled, before looking towards Wyatt. Wyatt took in every minor detail of her body language and vocal response. He rubbed his eyes, and reluctantly stated Shes lying. Volke flipped the switch on the suppressor, the trigger mechanism unfolding into his reach. Confess, priest. Was this another one of your sacrifices? You think the Divines would want this? He... He was going to be... ok?! Rictus... he went too far! But when he was caught... he made me store him in the loft! I... I didnt have enough food to keep us both alive... please, he would have told the guards if I let him go and I would have been taken away! Volke snarled, pressing the barrel of the weapon against the womans forehead. She closed her eyes and whimpered in fear Are you at peace with what you have done? ..N...N...No-o... Im s...sorry... tears began streaming down her cheeks, but Volke did not show a hint of sorrow for her. In one quick movement, he pulled his key from his belt and twisted it in the air. A Devils Door erupted open, light bleeding from within. Then get off my planet. Volke growled. He kicked the armchair backwards and it passed straight through the door. The womans spirit separated from her body and vanished through the threshold. The door slammed shut, and the priestess slumped in her chair, motionless and pale. Wyatt stared, his mouth slightly open in horror. Draeg phased into existence before the two of them, looking to his master The echo is gone, sir... Good... Volke spat on the floor, pulling up his hood and moving towards the door. He stopped only momentarily to look down at Wyatt with condescension Get used to the begging.... he walked on by, murmuring lowly ...They always beg... ***** The wind of the night swept across the snowy plains of open Norvask. Giggoth herd tracks stretched for miles and miles across the fragile crust. The moons dim light shimmered as it bounced from the glittering frozen surface of the world. There were little to no signs of life, bar one: A roaring fire, alone and secluded in the flat icy wasteland. A pair of hide tents had been assembled either side of the flames, rooted to the ground by the cryoley to resist the blizzard calling gales. The wind howled and wailed like a lost child with almost no one around to heed its cries. Wyatt and Volke were sat beside the fire. They didnt need it for warmth, but it would keep the saberls and other aggressive creatures at bay. They were in the depths of Norvask now, as they had

been walking all day ever since their escape from Brongarde. They had left no tracks, and would be impossible to locate, should the Norvaskan authorities have suspected them. Based on the womans past dealings with the towns public, however, it was likely she would not be missed. Wyatt was currently watching Volke eat. The fenrye was taking mighty chunks from a large leg of nimbeep mutton. Hed only kept his meal on the fire for a few minutes, and the thing was practically still raw, but he didnt seem fazed. Wyatts venison chop would be adequately cooked before consumption, and was still impaled on a spit over the flames. Volke caught Wyatts eye, which caused Rook to quickly look away, masking his actions with feigned innocence. Volke let out a single, short ha and lowered his meal. What? Imagining this is your throat? I needed that image... thanks. If you are still sore about me stating I would remove your tongue, it was merely an empty threat. I needed you to be silent, and in the future, I hope you will respect this, cazak. Its hard for you folk to understand... I bet. Wyatt began, trying to avoid eye contact Killing is something you all grow up with. With our kind, its something we mostly try to avoid... The echo asked us to kill its killer. A lot of them do that. Desire for revenge is powerful... Easily the most common force of binding. ...And what if the spirit had been wrong? What if someone else had been responsible... and he was just... confused? Volke pointed at Wyatts meal Are you not hungry? ...Im letting it cook... like civil folk do. Ha. Letting it spoil, you mean... Ah... To answer your question, that is why I demand confession. I did not simply snap her neck the moment she came through the door... I took the extra time to confirm the spirits knowledge. Sometimes echoes are misguided... sometimes we must neglect them. He peered up at the faded stars for just a moment This was not one of those times. Wyatt nodded with a sigh, turning the venison slowly with the spits handle. In history class... You lot said the Callers never used to fight, or even hold weapons? That is right. We were mostly dedicated to dealing with spirits and their unfinished business, but when revenge was required, and sanctioned... we would hire assassins. It was not until the War that we took up arms... Gray Koramas was the first. He did a sort of wave up to the stars If I could meet him... I would tell him how much I admired him. Wyatt chuckled Really? A human got your admiration? He became a warrior because he knew he had to... and he became a hero when he did not want to. Heroes are rare in this world... We should be grateful for the ones we have. Without heroes... history would not be a lesson... it would simply be information. Heroes rise when things need to change... do you understand? Wyatt smirked, removing the meat from the fire Not really, Im afraid. We need our heroes, Rook, heroes like the one that you can summon at will. They give us faith in times there is none. They remind us of what a single man or woman, or beast is truly capable of... Of what difference we alone can make... Of how easy corruption is to overwhelm. He nodded, a smile creeping onto his muzzle It doesnt matter what race they are, bacon bit.... Wyatt snorted, investigating the venison to ensure it was cooked all the way through Why do you do that, Volke? Why do you call us food names? Surely you aint gonna eat us? Of course not... Volke replied, taking a large bite out of his mutton leg, and saying with his mouth full Im a vegetarian...

Chapter Twenty Two Beyond The Door

Two Hundred and Twenty Days Ago A lot of people are afraid of getting old. A lot of people fear sickness, and a man isnt even considered mentally stable if he isnt scared of his own death... But with ghosts, all of that is seemingly impossible. The one thing we all share a common fear for, however, is becoming an echo, like the one youve just seen. Our rest, our finality, is something we all literally work towards or wait for. Becoming an echo is something that strikes us, an anomaly in our own structure, like a degenerating disease. It disables our awareness, most of our sapience, and transforms us from members of a society to haunting and broken remnants of our former selves. Its a fate deserving of contempt. Before the Faith War, there were not spirits, just as Lucian told you. It wasnt until death reigned supreme over the lands of Rime that the first ghosts began to manifest, mysteriously, only visible to one another and to the Divine of Death; Nox. Some appeared as spirits, some as echoes, some even as omens. Its hard to firmly grasp what causes us to regress into these lower states and even through substantial research, no firm results have been grasped. We can become an echo just as a man can catch a cold; sometimes when we least expect it, but sometimes we feel it encroaching... like a bad dream that slowly consumes all reality. The Callers will tell you an echo is the result of neglect or trauma. While this is true, its not the entire picture. A ghost can degrade given literally no evident cause. A spirit such as myself, who exists only to witness their sons life can wither and fade into the turgid existence you exist to banish. Its like aging...and eventually expiring. Its poetic in a way, that even ghosts can reach an inevitable conclusion. Once a spirit has become an echo, and an echo has become an omen, is there any further degradation? Never once has an omens presence been recorded for extended periods of time. An omen is almost always swiftly dealt with following their conception... But, there are places even a Palecaller would not go. Places built on the concept of death and decay; places that, assuming omens never vanish, are filled with the vengeful spirits of the damned. Omens are... simple, more so than echoes. An echo wants, an echo needs, and an echos hunger can be satiated. An echo will leave when it gets what it wants, but an omen doesnt want anything... At least, not anything a real person would want. Omens exist to kill, but they will not leave their place of manifestation to hunt. They will only kill what comes to them, and sometimes will limit their targeting to specifics... only harming women, only harming soldiers... they dont maintain anything of what they were, aside from the hatred that built up during their life, and undeath. They are like animals that only have a need to feed providing a regular food source...But animals can be controlled; tamed, providing you have the right approach. If they cannot be considered as animals, perhaps they can be considered as weapons... and a weapon can be deployed, wielded. The secrets to controlling the omens have been delicately swept beneath the rug of history, but it was said that Morgarth Farl could not only control the omens, but even summon them from his own Devils Door. Could such a force ever be used for good? Unlikely...But what is left to manipulate if not the corpses of The Pale itself? Everything dies, my son: From the tiniest of microbes to the largest behemoth. To the stately nobles, to the stars in the sky... everything dies. Even ghosts, Wyatt. Even ghosts.

Present Day In the frozen wasteland, the two dark silhouettes stood out like stains on a white shirt. A blizzard raged fiercely, angrily whipping at the cloaks of the two Palecallers. Their footprints faded almost as quickly as they formed. They shielded their eyes from the onslaught of snow which barraged them from all directions, struggling onwards against the gales. The weather would have killed a normal man in minutes, but even in these frigid temperatures and hostile winds, Wyatt felt he could endure. The ley within him would protect him; he was sure of it. He and Volke had been walking for hours with the aid of a small compass. It would have been totally impossible to determine the direction they were going in without it. Even so, however, it was difficult to tell whether or not theyd even passed their destination already, and no matter how much Wyatt voiced his doubts, Volke continued to lead, unfazed. The fenrye was either very confident in his own navigation abilities, or he simply couldnt hear Wyatts yells over the howling storm Seriously!! Are you sure this is right?! What?! Where are we?! It is about high noon! NO! WHERE ARE WE?! NORVASK! Wyatt gave up. He was probably going to die in this inhospitable and savage part of the world. Opposing the wind, he performed a pack salute, and Talazon appeared in the air before him, completely unaffected by the weather. He took one look at Wyatt, rolled his eyes and started to speak, sarcastically. Fortunately, Wyatt couldnt hear a word he was saying. SHUT UP, BIRD! I need you to fly above the blizzards flats and look for landmarks! Volke, what are we looking for?! A fort! An old fortified settlement left over from one of your wars! Wyatt nodded to Volke, turning back to Talazon, who was either objecting or mocking; he was still totally inaudible Why the farl are you still talking?! Do what I say! The owl shot a glare somehow crueller than the weather he was resisting and shot off into the sky. Volke laughed loudly, peering over his shoulder at Rook It is good you show domination! I hope one day, you will not need to! The damn thing doesnt listen to me! I cant give him basic instructions without snide crap or jokes. He served Gray Koramas, cazak! You are like a child to him! Well what the farl do you suggest?! Your familiar practically eats out of your paw! He knows nothing else, ka. Your bird has an entire life before this. He has more knowledge of this world than all of us! You hold no true dominion. The path to his obedience lies in the path to his acceptance, to his appreciation! Volkes snow-touched fur quivered as the wind brushed roughly against his grinning muzzle He should be your friend, not your pet. Speak to him when off duty as well as on. Spend time with his as you would a friend in this realm. You will grow on one another, if battle does not harden your bond. It was hard to hear what the fenrye was saying, but Wyatt got the gist of it Battle? We going to battle? I aint sure Im ready for a battle! Volke smirked, before facing forward once again, avoiding the question.

The two of them continued walking to the south. They couldnt see more than a dozen metres or so ahead of them but Volke must have known what he was doing. They trekked on for another twenty or thirty minutes. Despite Volkes estimates, there was no way of telling the time of day: The sun and sky were completely concealed behind the haze of whirling flakes. They pushed through drifts and mounds, the ground- level of snow rising and falling irregularly , sometimes reaching as high as their shoulders. Talazon was nowhere to be seen, and had likely disobeyed the order following Wyatts snapping at him. This blizzard had been ravaging the land for hours now. The Palecallers had awoken to find themselves trapped in its midst. Without the ley rooting the pegs to the ground, there was no way the tents would have remained stationary, or indeed not airborne. Even with this new obstacle, however, Volke had simply got up, pulled out his compass and led Wyatt southeast. The fenrye must have known these lands exceptionally well. He would occasionally note the presence of landmarks; solitary trees and protruding rocks, using them as waypoints to guide him to his destination. A silhouette appeared through the veil; the shattered skeleton of some sort of old mechanical device. Upon quickly looking it over, the features of a siege weapon came into view. Most of the metal had been salvaged, leaving nothing but an eroding frame. The catapult must have been hundreds of years old, abandoned here following its destruction. Volke briefly gestured to it, his voice bellowing over the wind We are nearly there. Stay vigilant! What resistance are we expecting?! Im not exactly a soldier! It is just precaution, sausage! With any luck, we will face no danger! Something boomed lowly in the distance, like thunder. Just moments later, a mound of nearby snow exploded, sending a pillar of diamond dust hurtling through the air. WHAT THE FARL!? WHAT WAS THAT?! Volke lowered his paw that was covering his face, peering quickly into the trench the blast had formed. The contrasting black of a cast iron ball immediately caught the eye in the sea of white ...Danger... What?! DANGER! A second cannon ball tore through the landscape, covering the two callers in powdered cold. Volke let out an animalistic snarl, leaping onto the snow and crouching there, waiting to pull Wyatt up. Were using the ley!? What if its Pact?! It is not Pact. Come. Volke yanked Wyatt onto the frozen crust. Rook maintained the cast with some difficulty, solidifying the snow at his feet and maintaining his position. His concentration was immediately challenged as a third cannon ball rocketed by, sweeping Wyatts fringe over his eyes. Volke began to run further to the south, notably straight in the direction the shots had come from. Wyatt followed, although with some vocalised reluctance Were running towards the people who are shooting artillery at us?! Would you rather we stood still!? Volke ripped off his cloak, his medium weight ivoryon armour gleaming in the dim light. It made him immediately harder to see, the pale outfit acting like camouflage. His entire body let out a series of chimes as he dashed. They have the high ground on their walls! Dark will stand out. Pull up your hood and keep your cloak tight! Let them never see you coming! Wyatt obeyed, pulling up the hood on his sleeper hide cloak. In this weather, the cloak was in its natural habitat. The sleepers awoke to hunt during Glacenox, so their camouflage was perfect for the season. Several more booming shots smashed

through the snow to their left, pelting the pair with icy chunks and melting debris. The two of them stumbled to the right, briefly, before regaining stability and continuing their charge. Volke raised his closed fist, Draeg bursting into existence before him and running alongside the fenrye. Check their perimeter! I want you to report structural weakness to me! Go! Draeg dashed off and vanished into the storm without a word. Volke took some small curious items from his pocket as he ran, fixing them onto his claws: Blade-caps, weapons made for Wolfbane Pact ley-risen servitors. They acted as metallic assets to enhance the cutting power of claws. The ones Volke had were ivoryon, like his armour. Talazon swooped down from above, soaring between the two of them and flapping quickly to keep up They have four naval canons pointed to the Northern Tradeway. They have bowmen on the south, east and west walls. The gate is closed, but dilapidated. A cast iron shot roared by the callers, passing straight through Talazons incorporeal form. He narrowed his avian eyes, irritated by this development They are also asshats. Good work! Wyatt called out This is insane. Who the farl would shoot at two folk walking through Glacenox?! Bandits, Wyatt. They shoot at anyone walking through anything. Answered Talazon, quite patronisingly Crimes fuse has burnt shorter since my last adventure around the world. Wyatt pieced together what hed heard, quickly, blinking in surprise Northern Tradeway? Fort? Bandits?! Volke! Whats the name of this-... Wyatt didnt need to finish his question. Emerging as a shadow in the snowy mist, the unmistakable form of Cracked Fang Keep loomed over the pair. Wyatt felt his heart sink ...Son of a quish... Two more shots exploded nearby, throwing Wyatt off his feet and into a thick drift of snow. Rook felt a ringing in his ears, the world temporarily muted except for a high pitched whine. He dazedly pulled himself from the mound, reaching up to grab Volkes clawed hand. Do not stop. Come! Do not make me carry you! Wyatt was yanked to his feet, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head quickly, before engaging once again in the suicidal assault. Talazon had appeared on his shoulder at some point, shouting ever-so-helpful comments in his ear Reckon you could regenerate if one of those things hit you directly?! Ha! I doubt it! You realise if I die, you die?! Talazons laughs stopped, and he blinked ....You win this round.... ARGH! DUCK! Wyatt responded just in time, a cannon ball narrowly missing his skull as he stooped low to avoid it. He felt his whole body wanting to collapse for a moment as what could have well been his death slammed into the snow behind him. Despite his jelly-like limbs, he pressed on, breathlessly glancing at Volke See that?! Good reaction! The fort grew closer, and with it, blooms of pulsating light to signify the four cannons being fired, immediately followed by echoic booms. With the snow to absorb the noise, everything sounded a little suppressed. The faded figures of men on the battlements darted from cannon to cannon, rapidly reloading and aiming. Over the moaning winds, their shouts and commands were almost perceivable. Six months had passed since Wyatt had last been locked away in this fort. It was hard to imagine what other upgrades had been made following his departure, and rule under a new leader. One thing was clearly evident, however; bandits should not be given cannons. A short pause ensued as the bandits seemed to change tactics. After a moment, four chain-shot cannon balls came hurtling towards the Palecallers, spiralling like deadly wheels. Wyatt quickly

strafed to the side while Volke roared, slashing his claws straight through the connecting chain of the joint shots. The two joint cannon balls fell either side of him, smoking and separated. How the farl did you do that?! Wyatt shouted, unable to help a brief grin spreading across his face When you control every part of your mind, reality itself becomes like a lucid dream! He laughed, between pants, another cannon ball zooming by his muzzle It is what the Divines must feel! You are not there yet, but you have decades! So focus! Two shots covered in flaming pitch crashed to the ground before them, scattering deadly flames in all directions. Volke just waved a hand, the blizzard obeying his command and consuming the fires before they could do any harm. Through the cloud of steam, Draeg came running. Sir! Report! Volke commanded, the cazak meeting his running speed and sprinting at the fenryes heel The walls are sound, sir. The gate is the structural weakness to exploit! They have forty two men and women waiting for you on the other side, armed with iron and suited in hides. Volke growled Thats a lot... Let us hope our reputation precedes us, and we can avoid immediate conflict. Volke! I know the chief that runs this place... assuming he still does! Im... Im pretty sure I can reason with him! Wyatt shouted. There was no time to answer, three more shots detonating around them and disabling their senses of sound once again. When the white fog cleared, Wyatt set his double vision on his immediate surroundings. Volke was nowhere to be seen. His quickly vanishing paw prints led off to the south towards the keep, so Wyatt wobbled after him. Steady, rookie... Talazon chirruped into his ear Pick up the pace. You dont want to be a still target. Wyatt nodded, once again pushing back his daze and focusing on the task at hand. He broke into a run, his target coming closer and closer by the minute. More pulses of fiery light shone down from the walls, flinging lethal metal shards of shrapnel towards Rook. He dived into the snow to avoid being shredded into pieces, taking a moment to examine one of the items that had been fired at him: A fork. How desperate were these bandits if they were firing cutlery at them now? He stooped his head low as another wave of domestic objects thudded their way into the frozen wastes, including some broken glass and a set of gaming marbles. Wyatt stayed put for a moment, eyeing the objects some more. Talazon started barking objections We dont have time for this! Youll get us killed! ...They know who we are... Wyatt said, picking up a fairly expensive looking ornate dinner bell They arent trying to rob us... theyre trying to keep us out... Wyatt! GET UP! The noise of an approaching projectile made Wyatt quickly roll to the side, narrowly avoiding another iron cannon ball. Chunks of snow and ice rained down upon his cloaked back. He shook it off, getting to his feet and charging the home stretch. The yells of bandits soon reached the ear. The features of the fort became more prominent through the snow, and Volkes form finally came into view, sheltered beneath the archway of the gate where none could reach him. He seemed to show a hint of relief when Wyatt emerged from the rapids of the blizzard, but concealed it well. ARCHERS! RELEASE! a commanding voice called. A hail of feathered arrows came flying down from the northern wall, the majority being caught by the vicious winds and going horribly off course. Wyatts feet were dotted with wooden spikes as some of the projectiles missed him by inches. Before he could thank his lucky stars, however, he felt a horrifically painful sensation shoot through

his arm. Looking down revealed an arrow had pierced it, the arrow stuck half way through, just below his elbow. Stains of sanguine flowed into the endless white as his blood dripped away. He immediately lost focus, unable to concentrate due to the pain. He sunk into the snow, unable to maintain the cast, but persistently struggling onwards, shuffling as hastily as he could through the waist-high slush. ARCHERS! the voice yelled again. Get down, Rook! Talazon urgently ordered. ..I can make it... Talazon opened his beak to let out a torrent of insults, but was interrupted RELEASE! The shadows of another volley began to descend. Wyatt raised his hand towards it, the blizzard warping at his finger tips. Suddenly, a sheet of solid snow formed above his head, suspended in the air. The sound of dozens of thuds in quick succession followed instantaneously by several more inaccurate arrows landing in the snow around him signalled the volley had been repelled. He lowered his hand, proud of himself, only to see Volke a few metres away, doing the same. Notably, the barrier crumbled when Volke stopped the cast, not Wyatt. Your pride will kill you. He said, darkly. I cannot be here to save you every day. COME! Wyatt felt his heart drop. Hed really done nothing? NOW! Volke leapt forward, practically scooping Wyatt off his feet and dragging him towards the gate by the collar of his coat. ARCHERS! FIRE AT WILL! arrows in disorganised throngs began to rip down from the battlements. Volke whipped one clawed hand through the air while pulling Wyatt along with the other, the snow of the blizzard encasing the arrows and forcing them to the ground. Volke successfully pulled Wyatt into the sanctity of the gates archway, safely out of sight from the battlements. The gate had received some obvious improvements since Wyatts last encounter with the Cracked Fang bandits, but it still looked a little weak; Glaze had not been kind to it; water must have melted between the boards and caused damage upon freezing. The entire door could have used some heavy maintenance. Volke pushed Wyatt against one of the walls Stay there. He directed, taking a moment to examine the gate and analyse its faults. Wyatt slumped to the ground, wincing as he took a hold upon the arrows shaft and snapped it in half. He let out a pained yell, pulling the broken missile from his arm and tossing it aside. With clenched teeth, he closed his fingers around the wound, a blue light escaping the cracks between them. A layer of frost formed a crust over both sides of the piercing, acting as a sort of temporary bandage. Grgh... this better not get infected... Infections need warmth to flourish. You provide none. Volke reassured, finishing his scan of the gate and taking a few steps back. Come here. I will break it down. Draw your weapons. Wyatt obeyed without question, unsheathing his ivoryon daggers with a single brilliant note. A spike of pain went through the puncture as he lifted the left dagger into an attack position. He took his place at Volkes side, awaiting the breach. They may attack us on sight, cazak... I want no necroley casts, and you do not possess your own key... I will open the doors. If need be, throw them in. The fenrye caught Wyatts eye. Rook quickly looked away, unable to answer. Volke just shook his head in disapproval, before raising his hands, his clawed fingers poised and bent. Silver-blue smoke trickled from the ends of his claws as the tempest at his rear started to twist, heeding his call. A large mass formed within the blizzard itself, growing larger by the second and quivering with certain volatility. Wyatt nervously watched the gate, waiting; waiting the slaughter he wanted no part in. With a low grunt, Volke thrust his palm forward. The frozen mass thundered forward like an avalanche, smashing into the gate with extreme force and blasting it from its rusty hinges. Through the brief, blinding haze, Volke ran with Wyatt following close behind. For a moment, it was impossible to see, but then the pair emerged on the other side.

The clicks of dozens of crossbows and rifles, and the tension-strewn creaking of longbow strings met their ears. As the floating aftermath of the gate-breaking cast began to fade, the sight of dozens of bandits welcomed them, standing in a semi-circle around the breach, pointing ranged weapons with murderous intent. Volke crouched low, his tail flicking rapidly, his predatory eyes darting from one man to the next. Wyatt merely pulled down his hood, making no sudden movements, but revealing his identity to those around him. This is how yall welcome me back? he called, his voice echoing around the fort. The stone walls did a fine job of providing shelter from the blizzard, what with the winds practically carrying the snow in a horizontal direction. The old Cracked Fang banners had been replaced with new colours and sigils. The bandit clans new symbol appeared to be a door with light pouring from within. A tattered flag flapped away above the main keeps door, with words dyed upon it: The Escapologists. The whole fort had a slightly more industrial feel about it; the arena was gone, replaced by some sort of small foundry and the mine had expanded greatly. The foundry was currently active, a cloud of dark, acrid smoke spewing from a single tall chimney. Wyatt glanced towards the building where hed been imprisoned... surely they hadnt taken more slaves after what happened? Wyatt was abruptly snapped from his thoughts by the cocking of a flintlock rifle. The man with the dominating voice theyd heard from the battlements came to the front of the group, kitted out in leather armour with a giggoth calf skull mounted on his right shoulder. He pulled his own pistol from a holster and readied a shot Firing squad... Ready. Volke crouched lower, preparing to pounce. Dont fight us. Wyatt warned Its not worth it. Aim! The bandits all prepared to fire. It was surprising to see them working with almost military organisation. Wyatt tried once more If one of you let fly, everyone in this fort will be seeing the wrong end of the Devils Door! T he commander twitched, but fought off his insecurity. As he opened his mouth to yell the kill command, another man shouted down from the keeps tower HOLD YER FIRE, WEEDS! The bandits exchanged glances, confused Nose those irons... its over, hear me?... They is inside... its over... The clan lowered their weapons, demoralised. Wyatt sheathed his blades and Volke straightened up. He gave Wyatt the go ahead to talk. Listen here! Youve all seen the door... But none of you has to go through it today. So let us go about our merry way, get what we need, and leave yall to struggle on through the season. Frankly, you all deserve worse after taking shots at us! The bandits didnt move. Wyatt recognised a few of them through their thick Glacenox outfits and masks. You eard the caller, weeds! Get to laborin or Ill scooch down there and make a meal of ya! Wyatt shouted up towards the tower where he was sure he could see a few whiskers poking out of a window Whatcha hiding for, Lincoln?! Come down and well talk all civil, like. There was no response. Wyatt shrugged. Lincoln had been afraid of the callers since theyd first met. It wasnt overly surprising that he wanted to distance himself from two that had survived his onslaught... but why would he tempt the wrath of Palthgar if he knew what the callers were capable of? The bandits dispersed, grumbling to one another, worriedly. Wyatt dusted off his hands, wincing as the motion let a jolt of pain go through his wounded arm Ow! Heh... See, pal? No problem. Volke continued to survey the fort, sniffing the air, a suspicious look in his feral eyes. Whats got you so jumpy? Wyatt asked, trying to meet Volkes swiftly moving eye-line. ...There is... a tension in the air.

Theyre probably just scared well killem all. Wouldnt you be? It is not that... Be on your guard... Draeg?! The cazak appeared at Volkes feet Confirm the echos presence. We were informed it had manifested in the foundry. Acknowledged. The cazak ran off. Wyatt looked up at Talazon, who seemed in a content enough mood to accept orders Talazon, I want you to check that block over there. Tell me if they are holding prisoners and report back to me. We want to prevent more echoes if we can. Talazon nodded, fond of this idea Consider it done. He said, spreading his wings and flapping away. The two familiars passed through the walls of the two buildings on opposite sides of the fort. The bandit arms commander was trying to casually sneak away without coaxing attention, but clearly Volke wasnt going to let them off this easily. The fenrye took a few large strides towards the human, grabbing him by his armour and pulling him so their noses were touching Why did you fire? Gaaragh?!? The bandit choked on all of the lies hed tried to simultaneously conjure Why did you fire, meat?! Gyah... The boss! He told us to! Details, dredge... Ok! OK! He just said to shoot the cannons if we saw cloaked people approaching in the snow! Thats all! Wyatt frowned, trotting over He knew we were coming?... he asked. The commander shrugged, unable to take his eyes away from Volkes How should I know!? Orders is orders! Listen, gnoll... I taste nasty, I swear! Volke snarled, shoving the man away, very nearly throwing him to the ground with his bestial strength. The commander hastily made his retreat, heading to the fortresss keep. Volke kept his lupine ears perked, checking every passing bandit for signs of suspicion as the pair of them stood in the courtyards centre before the broken gates. How do you know this bandit chief? Volke asked Wyatt, his eyes following a nervous looking bowman. Hes called Lincoln. He used to be the second in command here. He captured Lao and I on our way to Palthgar. We managed to persuade him to turn on his chief and help us bring him down. And that never seemed... easy? Wyatt blinked Well... I suppose it was a little easy... He was always really scared of the Palecallers though... he recognised us when he saw the ivoryon. He said you... massacred people. Said you were monsters. Volke growled, glancing up at the forts tower ...We shall pay this Lincoln a visit before we depart... Wyatt nodded, shooting an intimidating glare to a bandit who didnt move along fast enough. Curious that they did not attack... It is almost like Lincoln ordered them to yield... I suppose he thought hed lose. Youve dealt with worse odds than this, right? Volke chuckled, examining his blade caps. Not alone. If Saar was here, or Vulpe... even Edwin... then this would not be a problem. With you, however... only fresh from the state of initiate... unable to use the Desonox Thra, The Devils Doors... I am uncertain if we would survive the ambush. If we had the initiative... Mhm... this would not be an issue, ka. Talazon and Draeg returned at this moment. Draeg slid to a halt at Volkes feet while Talazon landed on Rooks shoulder

No prisoners. Cells are all empty. The mines filled with bandit labourers. No slavery. Talazon reported. Wyatt nodded, a small smile creeping onto his face Good. Thanks. Draeg then vocalised his own observations The echo is there, sir. I can take you to it. Do so. Draeg nodded, turning and trotting silently towards the foundry. Wyatt and Volke followed, the eyes of onlookers staring from every direction. The foundry was a little thrown together. It was mostly made from scrap metal panelling and the remnants of other buildings and machines. A crank-wheel operated conveyor belt led inside which currently was home to a dozen heavy chunks of unrefined ore. The ore had the slightest sickly green tint, which Wyatt paid no mind to. Draeg led the callers to a large and heavy armoured door. It was unlocked, so once Draeg had walked through it, Volke pulled it open with a terrible screeching of the hinges. Smoke gushed from within temporarily, immediately being carried away by the wind. Volcanic orange light reflected off the metal walls, the source down a series of corridors; no doubt a smelter or two. The smoke wasnt too heavy, and only lingered near the ceiling; it would be safe to breathe, no doubt. Draeg waited patiently for his master to follow. Volke narrowed his eyes, glancing around the space briefly before conjuring a sort of frozen doorstop to prevent the two of them being locked in. Happy with his security measure, he stepped into the foundry, with Wyatt right behind him. Chunks of rubble and blackened smears covered the metal surfaces. It was warm inside, warm enough for even the callers to feel it; not too dissimilar from Krosinoxs chamber. Draeg led the group on through a short series of small corridors, passing around a corner or two. The light became more vivid as they drew closer to the core. Draeg turned one final corner, the smoke whirling through his transparent form. Here. He said, simply, waiting. The two callers moved around the bend, immediately faced with two large and rather crude smelters. The chimney extended above them, the grim sky just visible through the opening. The other end of the conveyor belt Wyatt had previously spotted was also in this room, but the hatch accessing the external part was currently sealed tight. Just beyond the refinery, lying motionless beside a grubby pile of coal was a saberl, its body flickering as theyd seen in the attack before. Seven above... Wyatt uttered, quietly ...Mordecai? The saberl made no response, as was to be expected. Volke walked closer You know this echo? I... Yes, vaguely. He was killed during our escape... Farl, he even said hed come back if he died... but... not like this. Becoming an echo is not something one can anticipate... It is... a fault in the manifestation process... He looked over at Wyatt, who had joined Volke at his side Do you know what he wants? I think so... Wyatt rubbed his brow I know he wanted revenge... justice... they tortured him for years. Starved him too... in a way, I suppose he and the kid in the attic arent that different... There is only one state of mind one can adopt in such times... Volke clicked his clawed fingers towards Draeg Draeg, watch the door for us. Acknowledged, sir. The cazak vanished. Wyatt turned his head to Talazon, who was already waiting for orders, expectantly Reckon you could do some aerial surveillance? I wanna know if these folk mobilise against us. Talazon gave a slow nod

I can. Shouldnt be a problem. Want me to check on this Lincoln as well? Wyatt widened his eyes. He hadnt thought of that. Sure. See if hes up to anything shady in that tower of his. Talazon gave a single nod, before fading away, the smoke from his eyes dissipating in the air. Wyatt and Volke approached the prone Mordecai, standing either side of him and exchanging glances. A sort of scar-like tear was in Mordecais back, precisely where the Jorgnrs axe must have hit him. Despite his passive position, there was a ferocity in his eyes that even Volke could not match. Was he a good soul? Volke asked. Wyatt chuckled, just shrugging. After all that time in that cell... I dont even know. Maybe he was once. He died saving a friend. Clearly he wasnt at peace. And the one who killed him? Gone. I put him through the Door the first time I opened it... With that in mind, who could he want revenge on?... Volke adjusted the blades on his claws ...Everyone else. Upon those words, the light from the smelters seemed to immediately extinguish, throwing Wyatt and Volke into almost complete obscurity. The only lights visible were the two now glowing eyes of the saberl echo. The low resonating wail filled the air. Mordecai slowly stood, a sort of cracking emanating from his three limbs. His face distorted briefly into snarls and roars, like an image sequence, rapidly flickering from one to another. Wyatt felt his hand instinctively close around one of his daggers hilts. ...Caller. Volke widened his eyes a little. He peered at Wyatt, who took a step forward. The saberl continued There can be no freedom without suffering... But this time, it is not my own. His feline eyes narrowed Throw them into the darkness... So that they might beg... for the light. Again his face distorted. A low norvaskan chuckle vibrated from the ghostly visage before he once again lay down and became as still as the grave. The light returned with a slight flash. Wyatt looked to Volke, uneasily ...Were... not gonna do it, right? We can put Mordecai through the door? Instead of the dozens of folk out there. Wed risk an omen, Wyatt. An omen in a place like this could spread so quickly... Youd rather fight forty bandits than a single omen?! Volke looked down at Wyatt, a haunted glint in his eyes ...Yes. Wyatt pulled at his own hair, glaring Are you out of your mind!? Its almost like you want to kill these people! Volkes fear turned into sudden anger Why would I want that? Wyatt hesitated, which only escalated the situation. Volke rushed forward, slamming Wyatt against the wall and pinning him there, growling in his face Go on! Say it! ...Because youre a fenrye. Volke brought back his fist and slammed it into the wall just inches from Wyatts head, forming a sizable dent Tror vak! Your ignorance is blinding. This is our duty, thek! We exist to prevent this! Not to allow it to flourish! These bandits shot cannons at us. They tortured good people! They created unfinished business! Why do you defend them?! Why is death such a burden when THIS is not?! he gestured to Mordecai. Deaths absolute! Folk cant redeem themselves! Throwing the saberl through the door will not grant him peace! It is simply murder in different form!

Hes one. Not forty. He has earned forty lives in exchange for his own! You shot an unarmed wrangler! How is this somehow worse!? He was torturing my best friend! And you think the people these bandits tortured didnt have best friends too!? Wyatt opened his mouth to object, but caught something moving out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he spotted what looked like an animal, skulking in the shadows and watching. ...Draeg? Volke blinked, looking over his shoulder and releasing Wyatt. The animal vanished, with a very distinctive and familiar flash. Volke twitched, turning back to Wyatt. ...Call back Talazon. Wyatt sensed the urgency and executed the summoning gesture, but nothing happened. He saluted a second time, but the bird did not reappear. ...Theyve taken him. This is a trap. Draeg suddenly appeared Sir! The door! Volke did not even pause, sprinting down the corridors. The door however audibly slammed shut before he was even half way there. Wyatt peered up to see the chimney of the foundry also sealing up, tightly. Smoke began to quickly flood the room. Wyatt cursed quietly, tearing a scrap from one of his shirts sleeves and wrapping it around his nose and mouth. Volke returned with a similar improvised mask around his muzzle Draeg, check for a way out. The familiar darted away. Wyatt held the rag tightly around his face as the smoke descended further Cant you break the door down again!? Were cryoley. There is no moisture in this air, no cold to manipulate. This entire building was created to trap Palecallers. How the farl did they know where the echo was?! There is no time! Find a means of escape. Wyatt jogged over to the conveyor belt hatch while Volke concocted a plan revolving around the chimney. Wyatt pulled at the hatch with his fingers, to no avail, before pulling a dagger and attempting to crowbar it open. The blade sung a song of bending disapproval, but he ignored its petty whining. Volke meanwhile raised his wrist mounted gun and fired at the trapdoor that had closed over the smoke stack. The bullet ricocheted around in the metal tube for about three seconds before harmlessly falling with an anticlimactic clink. The first of the smoke crept into Wyatts lungs, forcing him to let out a heckling cough. His injured arm was in agony from the prying but if hed become anything in the last six months, it was accustomed to pain. Eventually, something seemed to give, and Wyatt blinked in surprise Oh... Oh hey! I did it! He turned around. Volke was gone. He looked up. Claw marks covered the inside of the chimney, and Volke was at its mouth, dug into the wall with three of his limbs and shoving away the trapdoor with his third. He was almost impossible to see through the smoke, but as he pushed the trapdoor open and swung himself out, the light of day illuminated him like some sort of heavenly being. Some shouting ensued, followed by some gunshots. The unmistakeable light of the Devils Door crept in from outside, and then two pale bandits came tumbling down the chimney, slamming to the floor with a stomach-turning crack. Wyatt sighed at the two dead men. Theyd given Volke an excuse; now there would be no stopping him. Wyatt casually and sadly made his way to the refinerys front door and waited. The smoke was still thick in the air but now that it was draining away, most of the danger had subsided. He waited at the door for two minutes, listening to the shrieks and snarls and various weaponry in action. The commander from before was heard shouting

Everyone! Fall back to the keep! and the sounds of battle gradually faded. Eventually, following this, a latch was lifted and the door swung open. Volke stood there, a few dents in his armour where bullets and crossbow bolts had struck him. Wyatt looked by him; around ten bodies were scattered, all of them as white as the snow they lay face down in, their eyes wide open. They have tried to kill us twice. They have taken your familiar. They have allowed torture and murder on their lands, and they have set up elaborate but poor traps exclusively for the purpose of destroying a force this world desperately needs. Volke took a step forward as he spoke, blocking the light and looming over Wyatt Are you with me, cazak? Or are you still not prepared to do what is necessary? Wyatt stammered on his answer, before hanging his head ...Yeah... Right... Im... Im with you... Volke gave a firm nod, placing a hand on Wyatts shoulder You would be surprised, brother... Just how easy it gets... Do not think of the lives you are taking... think instead of the lives you save. In a small crack of sympathy, Volke reassuringly said If it is still too hard, just incapacitate them for now. I will take care of the rest. But do your duty, Wyatt. For Rime. Wyatt sighed, submissively Alright... So whats our move? I want my bird back. Wyatt and Volke made their way to the keeps main gate. The fort would be silent were it not for the whirring of machinery from the mines and the howling of the angry winds. There wasnt a soul in sight, assumedly all waiting within the keeps main hall to stage the perfect ambush. The two Palecallers pressed themselves to the wall, either side of the door. Wyatt pulled out his pistol and checked the powder, before prepping it for a shot. Hed had a lot of practice in the last six months, and Anya had even shown him a neat ley-imbued shot that ivoryon pistols allowed. There are another twenty to thirty armed humans through this door. They have had the time to take up defensive positions and improvise cover. Draeg, confirm. The reptilian hound poked his head through the door, peering around within before withdrawing Confirmed. In addition, eight are holding high ground. There is no cover you can exploit within. Volke took his key and twirled it on his finger. Hrm.... he looked at Wyatt, sizing him up I have a job for you. Wyatt sighed Uh huh? Does it involve slaughter? Negative, pudding. We shall ease you into that. I need you to create a bulwark to shield me while I open doors. I tried that twenty minutes ago and did nothing... Also this place was a lot simpler when it was run by a savage moron. Whyd Lincoln get them all militarised? I mean cannons? Synchronised volleys? They were trained to repel us. Lincoln knew we would come. He knew the echo was here... Wyatt hissed, lowering his gun and desperately trying to extract an answer from Volke How!? Volke brushed down his key, blowing a few snowflakes from its immaculate surface Do you remember when your father told you that a Palecaller is not what you do, but what you are? You are a Palecaller if you are born on a necroley and cryoley line. Wyatt opened his mouth in shock, but Volke just grinned at his gawking face. Ready? Wyatt immediately shook his head No! I am breaching in five seconds... Five... four. Volke, I cant hold the shie-... Three... two... Volke!

One... zero. Volke cackled, taking a step in front of the door and kicking it with supernatural might. The door collapsed inwards, zooming into the room with Volke following it closely. A hail of bullets and arrows came raining down, striking the door which acted as a temporary barrier before falling to the floor. Wyatt rounded the corner, concentrating intensely. Just as Volkes cover flopped and fell flat, a glacial translucent frozen wall flashed into existence before the fenryes nose. Projectiles struck against it, forming miniscule cracks which quickly began to spread. The bandits could be heard panicking, their muffled voices shouting profanities to one another. Their commander was barking the same order over and over Fire at will! Destroy it! Fire at will! Volke looked over his shoulder at Wyatt for a moment, before glaring forward, taking the key and thrusting it through the air. As he turned it, three doors snapped open beyond the glassy blockade, equally distributed around the room. Some of the bandits immediately stopped firing, transfixed by the alluring light within Focus on the wall! Dont go to the light! Weve escaped The Door before! We are The Escapologists! Amazingly, their discipline held strong and the bandits resumed their attack. Wyatt, with his hands still raised towards the barricade, trying to hold it together and straining, called to Volke What?! You thought theyd just walk inside?! Of course not. Thats what The Concierge is for... Wyatt raised an eyebrow, a bead of sweat trickling down from his fringe Great! More words... Watch. Volke pointed to each of his doors in turn, and forms moved within. Just moments later, dozens of thick, glowing, ethereal chains were fired from within at rapid speeds. The bandits quickly dispersed, running in all directions to avoid the attack. The chains followed them with a frightening sentience, wrapping around their limbs, throats and bodies one by one and dragging them screaming into the doors. Some of them left scratches on the stone floor where their finger nails had tried to anchor them. Once the chains had pulled a bandit into the light and consumed its soul, it threw them away like a ragdoll. Wyatt watched in horror; it was the most unpleasant and harrowing thing hed ever witnessed. Soon, none of the remaining bandits were concentrating on attacking, and were all fleeing for their lives as the lifeless bodies of their friends were thrown around the room. Some of them fled further into the keep, only to be lassoed like cattle and yanked back. Some of them even thudded their fists against Wyatts wall, yelling out in muffled voices, fixing terrified, pleading stares in Rooks direction. Wyatt felt sick, his legs wanting to give out beneath him. Two more bandits at the barrier were dragged away to their doom, and a third chain came creeping for the final one left alive. Wyatt lowered his hands, and the shield collapsed. The bandit scrabbled for safety, unarmed. He ran straight by Volke, who followed him calmly with his feral eyes. Wyatt stepped aside as the bandit reached him, and the man seemed to extend his gratitude for a second before sprinting out into The Cold Dark. The moment he stepped outside the keep, however, a gunshot sounded out from behind Wyatt. The bandit tumbled into the snow, a bullet hole in his knee. He yelled and begged for mercy as the chain finally reached him, almost tauntingly coiling around his entire leg without haste, and slowly dragging him back inside. Wyatt turned to Volke, who was lowering the smoking barrel of his suppressor. There can be none, brother. Wyatts breathing became shaky. His vision blurred a little. He felt nauseated and weakened. Through unfocused eyes, he watched the screaming man get reeled in like a fish on a line, leaving a trail of his own blood and tears, inch by inch. The moment he touched the threshold, the cries silenced, as abruptly as a needle from a record. The chain threw the

still body back down the corridor, where it slid just yards from Wyatts feet. It then retreated back through the door, sated. The three doors slammed shut, and shattered. Wyatt took one look at the bandits face, forever trapped in a state of despair and dread, before collapsing to his knees and vomiting into a corner. It took him thirty seconds before he could even open his eyes, but the first thing he saw upon doing so was Volke rummaging through the pockets of each bandit in turn, taking whatever valuables he could find. ...Really?... Wyatt coughed, wiping his mouth Now youre looting them?... We need money too, Wyatt. We are not paid for this... remember? he beckoned, pulling some supplies from a pack on his armour Youll need to stay hydrated and fed. You think I want to eat right after seeing... that? It is not about what you want. It is about survival. All of this is about survival! Not just yours or mine, but everyones! We have done this job for centuries, cazak... without us, this world would have died. Volke gathered a dozen or so coin purses while Draeg checked the others, staying out of the conversation as he did best. ...Is Lincoln here? Wyatt shook his head No. Hes a vermus. Hes probably upstairs in the chiefs quarters... Then that is where we go next... Draeg. Check the echos status. The hound ran off. Volke reloaded the suppressor, approaching Wyatt, perhaps to offer some sort of sympathy. Wyatt could barely look at him, walking straight by the fenrye and heading for the stairs beyond the entry hall Lets just do this... At the very least, I want Talazon returned. Volke followed, stepping over the variety of bodies. He is growing on you, yes? Wyatt just sighed, reaching the first step ...He tells me when to duck. They began to climb the stairs that were still fresh in Wyatts mind. Hed made this same trip when sneaking into Lincolns old lieutenant quarters. The major difference was the lack of activity now. Presently, the keep was seemingly home only to the deceased. Draeg returned soon after hed left, claiming Mordecai was still present. Clearly, there was one last soul he wanted snuffed out. Who is The Concierge? Wyatt asked, scaling the staircases. We are unaware. It could be an extension of our own subconscious, or indeed a sentient being that exists in the realm beyond the door itself. It comes out when we call for it... those chains are its arms. Weve never seen it, aside from those limbs... Wyatt frowned, peering at Volke with concern ...So... you had no control over those things? The commands are internal. I tell it when to come out. I tell it who to target... but... other than that... He lowered his tail, and narrowed his eyes a little, falling silent. Wyatt thought back to the way it had toyed with the men before consuming them. It was part of what made him so ill. They continued to climb, moving by Lincolns old room, which had a new plaque upon it for the commander theyd just fed to a chain-monster, so they paid it no mind and continued to ascend. At the summit of the final staircase was a pair of ornate wooden doors. A sign was nailed above the door over where Jorgnrs title had been inscribed. It read: Lincoln, Chief of The Escapologists. Draeg approached and prepared to enter for surveillance, but Volke raised a hand and closed a fist. Hold. Youre dismissed, Draeg. The cazak gave a confused look, before following the command and disappearing. Again, Wyatt pulled out his gun, holding it ready as he and Volke positioned themselves either side of the door. Volke gave Wyatt a nod, holding up three fingers. He dropped them, one by one in a countdown. Upon reaching zero, he and Wyatt pulled the handles down and burst through the door, aiming their weapons.

The room was lavish for bandit standards. Animal trophies covered the sandy coloured walls, a roaring fire burnt away in a decorative hearth, and claw-footed, hardwood furniture was neatly placed around the space. In the rooms centre was a soft arm chair, placed upon an ursoroc skin rug. Sat upon the armchair, with a glass of wine in his hand, was Lincoln. He was wearing a set of ivoryon armour, almost identical to Volkes (except smaller). Volke sniffed the air, aiming the suppressor through glaring eyes ...Oswald... The vermus downed the glass of red, tossing it aside once empty. The glass shattered on the floor. Lincoln, or rather, Oswald, hopped down from the chair, giving a little casual salute Salutations, Volkerkert. He spoke in the commanding, civilised voice Wyatt had heard him use once before. You are supposed to be dead! Volke snarled. Oswald chuckled quietly, before shrugging I had things to do, buddy. Dont hold it against me. Wyatt flailed his gun, shouting irritably What the farl is going on!? Lincoln is Oswald?! Volke growled lowly, flexing his claws Explain...Traitor Oswald took a few steps forward, his voice raising You think Im the bad guy? You just massacred everything I had! Thats all the callers do! They massacre! It eats away at you, Volke! Theres only so many times I can... do that... Volke also stepped forward. The sizes of the two callers contrasted ridiculously We do what we must, you rat! This is the only way. Says who?! Krosinox?! Do you honestly still trust him? Volke, if we give him a reason, hell find a new way! This system can stop! Hes found an efficient way of dealing with the threat and doesnt have the soul to fabricate a new one! So you thought youd murder Palecallers until he attempts something else?! Volke charged forward, grabbing Oswald and holding him up at arms length. The vermus struggled, but only for a moment Grgh... I just wanted you to stay away! I heard Mordecai! I knew what you would do! Youd kill us all! I was defending my family! Volke growled lowly while Wyatt watched on, helplessly Weve done horrible things, Volke! I still... hear the families... the children. You cant blame me for leaving. Why didnt you take care of the echo yourself? Wed never have known. Wyatt eventually asked. The two beasts stared at him. ...I... I threw away my key. Ive barely tapped the ley for years. The armour and sword was the only thing I kept... Wyatt... thats your name, right? Youre an initiate... you didnt know how to use the key and I showed you because I was desperate. The key is evil, you understand? The doors... what lies within... Volke roared, hurling Oswald across the room. He smashed through a table, the wood splintering on impact I will not have you poison his mind with your lies... Where is Talazon?! Oswald struggled to his feet, nodding slowly Yes... It is him, then?... I thought he was just another lie... Just like Morgarth Farl. Volke began to approach, but Wyatt stopped him Wait. Let him speak. Oswald courteously bowed in Wyatts direction, before snapping his fingers. Talazon appeared, struggling, being held in the maw of a new saberl familiar. Wyatt recognised the eyes as the ones that had been spying on him and Volke in the foundry. You need to understand, Wyatt. The way Glace thinks is mechanical. Hes found a solution that works and hes enforcing it... but with calculations, he could devise something else, something without the murder and bloodshed.

We kill criminals, miscreants, scum and villainy! Volke barked, more at Wyatt than Oswald Without our justice, there would be more echoes, more omens. This world would slip into permanent undeath! Wyatt, they manipulate you! They alter your mind, your perspective! Volke would never understand because he was bred for war! Bred for death! He cannot exist without it! Wyatt snapped, first turning to Volke Why did you kill children and families? Volke growled Oswald and I had to purge a small settlement after it had been indoctrinated by necroborn. The entire fort was compromised. The children were arming themselves before they were even five years of age! There was no redemption to be had, cazak! You cant have known that! Oswald objected The Palecallers are not a necessary evil! They are monsters on a leash held by a questionable Divine entity who cannot even comprehend the need for alternatives! He pressed his little paws together Wyatt, please... You saw the door. You saw what lives inside it. Half of those men and women didnt have anything to do with Mordecais torture! Its all warped perspective! I fought for his release and he still wants me dead because in his perspective I am still evil! You betrayed our order.... betrayed Glace himself. Volke growled, pulling his key from his belt. Wyatt pointed his gun at Volke, cocking it Dont even think about it. Volke growled, but remained still. Oswald, you shot cannons at us. You tried to suffocate us. If youd come to us sooner, we could have put Mordecai through the door and stopped the omen if it came. My familiar saw Volke with you. Hed never let me go loose... I just wanted your key so I could wait for Mordecai to become a venger, then get rid of him... So youd kill us? For that? For the tool you claim to be evil? Id have done a lot for this clan. Id do a lot more to see The Palecallers destroyed and Krosinox forced into changing his approach... He extended a hand to Rook, theatrically Wyatt, help me persuade the others... Volke and Vulpe will never understand... nor will Saar, but the others... Youd ask me to kill three of the folk who have trained me? Three lives to save thousands... millions maybe... Talazon finally struggled free, flying out of reach of the saberl Dont listen to him, Rook! Hes basing this on assumption alone. Oswald took a few steps towards Rook They twist the way you think... They built you, Wyatt... but you can escape. They freed you! Talazon called out, flapping near the ceiling Your life was falling apart! They took you in! Theyve treated you kindly! And why was his life falling apart, war hero? Oswald asked the owl. Talazon didnt answer. This is the opportunity, Rook. You have Koramass familiar. You are the War Within. You can defeat the Palecallers and end this insanity! As was foretold! Wyatt jolted at this ...What? They never told you the full prophecy? They... said I had a choice. There is no choice in fate! Wyatt blinked, slowly looking from Volke, to Talazon, then back to Oswald. He felt conflicted, but also slightly compromised after what he had just viewed. He shouldnt act brashly and live to regret it... He felt his desire to rebel rising... he had a choice, no

matter what they said. After a long pause, Wyatt lowered his gun, and Volke seemed to sigh with relief ...Im sorry, Oswald... Wyatt said, unable to look at him. The vermuss shoulders slumped and his whiskers drooped. ...I understand... Again, he bowed May you find your way in the darkest times... Wyatt. Rook just stared at the floor as Volke trotted forward Are you at peace, Oswald? the vermus shook his head, locking stares with the fenrye I will never be at peace with what we did, Volke. Volke pushed the key forward and turned it. The door sprung into life before him, and Volke stood at its frame, waiting, expectantly. Oswald sighed, drawing his ivoryon cutlass and approaching the door. The saberl familiar took a few steps forward, eyes wide with fear Ozzy, no.... She practically whispered. Oswald saluted the beast, winking in her direction Its been an honour, Tris. The saberl hung her head ...It has... good bye, my friend... Oswald gave a single nod to Tris, nearly at the door. He stopped before it, staring inside, seemingly immune to its enchanting effects. He gave one last look to Wyatt, speaking You know, your spirit takes with you what youre wearing and holding. He looked at his sword, turning it in his hand I like to be well prepared... A wry smile crept onto his furry face as he turned back towards the door, his eyes settling on something within. Twirling the blade into an attack position, he let out a battle roar before charging through the light. Wyatt saw Oswalds spirit fade, sword in hand, ready for conflict, but Oswalds body collapsed to the floor. His ivoryon equipment seemed to stop singing the moment he fell, the life escaping his form in every possible way. The door slammed shut, and the saberl vanished.

Chapter Twenty Three The Pale Colours

Two Hundred and One Days Ago So, my son... Are the Palecallers monsters? Or are they heroes? If were to extend beyond the black and white, what word can truly summarise what your occupation involves? Perhaps knight? Someone who upholds order? Perhaps an executioner; someone who slays the wicked... maybe even just the antibodies of Rime, eradicating the infections before they spread... A monster kills indiscriminately. A monster relishes violence. They exist purely for the sake of anarchy and destruction, and their status is often one placed within common knowledge. Everyone recognises a monster; and everyone knows how to appropriately respond to ones presence. A hero is someone who fights for those who cannot fight for themselves. They often uphold truth and justice, exacting judgement upon those who would cause harm to the people. A hero is someone society supports, perhaps even loves. There is no confliction in what they do, as what they do is unquestionably right. Do either of those fit The Palecallers? Id say; absolutely not... unless youre looking at it through eyes other than your own. A man or women sees the atrocities a Palecaller commits and can, in unfortunate ignorance, assume it to be mindless slaughter. When they see a Palecaller cut down a loved one, they dont see a man... they see a monster. They see a creature built for death and desolation. When a man or women is saved, mere seconds from death by the fast actions of a Palecaller merely doing his duty, they see a hero in shining armour. They see someone beyond the chains of normality; someone who has taken injustice into their hands for the sake of nought but the greater good... Monsters. Heroes. Its all perspective, just like good and evil. The status of your perceived alignment should never influence your decisions, but it can influence the way people treat you. One town will treat you with open arms, while another, a pitchfork wielding mob. Its not about the ley or your history anymore, its about what society has watched you do. You, as a Palecaller, can never be anchored by absolutes. You will walk the line between love and hate, not because your moral obligations are balancing you one way or another, but because this is your duty. You are a weapon and a tool, honed purely for the preservation of this bleak world. Your own perspective must always remain diluted, neutral... otherwise youll either be taken by pride, consumed by despair, or overwhelmed by bloodlust. You do what is necessary: Not what is good. Not what is bad. You do what Rime needs you to. As I told you before; you will become a legend. There will be songs written to immortalise your actions... but only a naive fool would assume that all legends are of the glinting knights without a stain on their flawless reputation. You are neither paragon, nor villain. You are my son... you are a person, and like all people struggling to get by, you have a job to do. Please, please dont allow your sense of morality to break you apart. There will always be times when drawing your blade is not the right answer, but sometimes, Wyatt...Sometimes the world needs a pair of sharp blades rather than a sharp tongue. You are not a monster or a hero, my son. You are a Palecaller.

Present Day Once again, atop the peaks of The Ivory Reach, Wyatt found himself mingled with the unlikely ghostly horde of The Pale Market. Soldiers, civilians, bandits and men and women of all occupation wandered by his stall, chatting casually to one another like this was just another normal day. Wyatt admired something about them; if he was dead, hed have had difficulty turning that frown upside down. It was Glacenox at its best currently; freezing cold, but the winds werent causing any immediate hassle. The blue skies above will filled with cool wisps of cloud. Visibility was high and the weather was clear, but even with the clarity of the day, the sun still felt like it was straining to shine, as it always did at this time of the year. The workload was evenly spaced in the market, which took the pressure of Rook. Anya and Edwin were at two other stalls nearby, chatting to their ethereal clients. The line before the other callers was notably longer than the one before Wyatts. He was trying not to convey his distress but it was proving difficult. He and Volke had got back late last night after travelling almost non-stop for around six days. He looked a little drained, and conflicted, consistently muttering to himself as he mulled the events of the last few days over in his head. Evidently this had given him a slightly less approachable demeanour than the confident Anya or the charming Edwin. Lizzy and Lucian hadnt returned yet, and neither had Vulpe. When questioning, Wyatt had been told not to worry. Saar had come to him three times already, trying to pry his feelings from his mind and discuss them in a motherly manner (as she did) but Wyatt had pushed her away. Volke had told her everything, and by now, it was likely common knowledge within the fort: Oswald had betrayed the order. Excuse me? Wyatts head was slumped in his hand, contently lost in thought Excuuuuse me? he snapped from his trance, peering at the spirit before him before eyeing the small queue at his stall. He sighed, straightening up and trying to act professional. A good Palecaller greeted his clients with warmth and respect; What?! What do ya want?! the ghost, an elderly lady with frail looking bones and wispy grey hair, backed away in slight horror at this welcome Oh.. I... uh... Wyatt immediately felt guilty, shrinking a little in his seat Sorry, maam. Rough couple of days... he reached for a pad and pencil that were resting upon his stall. Already he saw his queue shrinking as a few of his customers shuffled subtly over to Anya and Edwin. How can we help ya? Oh... well you see... Its my grandson... I promised him Id pick him up from Exposure Training tomorrow... but... the Nox note wont arrive until long after that... Glacenox slows mail so very much... Wyatt scribbled down a summery ...Alright... Lets have a name and address and well get our ley-risen right on it. Oh... I was hoping one of you could go personally... Ley-risen are so... different. I worry my grandson would be afraid. Wyatt forced a reassuring smile Maam, our starls are some of the nicest folk Ive ever met. We have a girl called Rhea who knows exactly how to talk to kids. Shes delivered news like this a hundred times over. Shell help your grandson get home. The old women fidgeted, uncomfortably I... Id really prefer a human... Wyatt sighed, quietly. He made sure his friendly expression didnt deflate to reveal the frustration veiled below Maam, our ley-risen cover ground much faster than we do. Plus, if we were out helping children get home, who would protect the world from all the nasties?

But-... Give me an address and well have this all sorted soon. But I really think-... Maam, give me an address or so help me Glace, I will door you. The woman temporarily looked shocked and appalled at this treatment, but eventually caved to Wyatts empty threats. ...Yes... the school is in The Divines Reserve, on the east side of Chapels residential district. My grandsons home is to the left of the church of Korl. Hell know it when he sees it. Wyatt scribbled this down, quickly and crudely. He spotted two bat-like creatures flying overhead to the west tower. Lucian and Lizzy were riding on their saddled backs. Lizzy gave a cheery wave down to Wyatt just moments before disappearing into the towers opening. Alright, maam. Whats your grandsons name? he held his pencil, poised and ready A description would help as well. The lady opened her mouth to answer, but no reply came. Her face contorted into an expression of confusion and strain ....Im... not sure... Its... Ryan... or... Brian... Oh, my memory isnt what it used to be... Id suggest ghost-walking over to your grandsons home and seeing if you can acquire his name, then. Do that, and then rejoin the queue. Ghost...walking? Wyatt sighed, more audibly this time Thatll be how you got here, maam. Ghosts can move great distances in seconds. Its why we use them for surveillance, scouting and information recovery. If youve... forgotten how to ghost-walk, go and ask that group of gentlemen over yonder. Wyatt pointed to a group of Faithful spirits whom had been at Palthgar for centuries, all of them waiting for the Divines reign to return, bound into servitude by their desire to preserve the world that would one day once again be considered a paradise. The old lady nodded in acknowledgement Thank you very much. She said, smiling weakly. She hobbled away, her place taken by a towering armoured brute with a blood stained hammer in his hands. His face was covered by a horned helmet, but a pair of cruel eyes gleamed within the darkened sockets. The man had no sort of insignia or brand upon his person, meaning he couldnt have belonged to a military force. Youll help me with my problem? the hulk grunted. Wyatt leant back on his chair, placing his boots upon the stall and eyeing the man up and down That depends, bud. Whats your business? The doors to the ley training chamber opened with a quite boom. Saar walked out from within, wearing a long, flowing white dress, closely followed by Lucian and Lizzy. The pair of vermus looked thoroughly exhausted, and their windswept fur gave them a silly, punk-like aesthetic. Wyatt threw them all a casual salute. The door swung shut behind the three of them, and the moved into the ghostly crowd. Lizzy made a beeline straight for Wyatt, but at a sluggish pace; he had time to sort out this spirits issues. The arena... I fought in the Ring of Ruin. I was promised honourable combat, but the scum poisoned his blade. I want him exposed as the worm he is... to everyone who would consider him a champion. Wyatt immediately began to pay attention; this case was more interesting than the others. Letting his feet drop, he grabbed his pad and pencil once again This sounds pretty tricky. Whats your name? Brakon Yimar, four times champion of The Ring of Ruin. I will not have my name soiled and the worms praised for this act of cowardice and shame. And your opponents name? They call him The Tongue... because he never shuts up. Human male, wears a distinctive helmet with a grinning face carved within the steel. He cheats his way into the hearts of his crowd... his

reputation must be shattered, so that mine is restored. Wyatt took notes as quickly as they came, tapping his free hand against the wood Alright... Now obviously were gonna have a problem walking into Old Preciphillie. We aint bandits and most of us dont exactly look the part either. Yimar snorted, derisively You dont need to look like a bandit, you need to look like a warrior. Step into Old Preciphillie with conviction and power... and there will be not a soul that challenges you. Wyatt nodded, looking up from his pad Mind if you have a fenrye doing this for ya? The arena champion chuckled, shaking his head It would be an honour. The fenrye are fierce and dutiful. I could not expect my problem to be in better hands. Great. Ill get this assignment to Volke and hell sort out the rest. While were sorting out this Tongue character, Id like you to travel back to Old Preciphillie and see if yall cant find any more spirits like yourself. Check everywhere. If you find any spirits, send them our way. If you find any echoes, I want you to return here and give us a report about it. Echoes?... Mhm. Just ask those folk over there, where I sent that woman before ya. Wyatt pointed out the same group as before. Theyll fill ya in. The juggernaut followed Wyatts finger, before turning back to him Very well. I am eager to assist you, as you are for me. He bowed his horned head Safe travels he finished with, walking away, just as Lizzy arrived at the stall and hopped upon it. Today she was wearing thick hide furry Glacenox clothing with a fluffy parkour concealing most of her face. Her muzzle and whiskers poked out from within the folds of fabric, however, almost comically. Hey Rook! she greeted him. Saar said your mission had some twists and turns. Volke put another Palecaller through the door... along with about forty other men and women... So what? They were bad guys, right? Wyatt rubbed his head, frowning, subtly Thats the thing, Lizzy. I dunno if they were... Lizzy pulled off her gloves, revealing her tiny delicate paws Tough break. Volke probably knows what hes doing, though. She leant forward, curiously So, did Talazon speak to you yet?! Wyatt beckoned the next spirit in his queue over, giving them permission to approach Yeah, he did. And?... Hes a sarcastic asshole. Lizzy giggled, before saying with disbelief No way!? He is, but the bird knows what hes doing. Im glad to have him with me. The ghost moved into position before the stall, and Wyatt welcomed her, while still maintaining the conversation with Lizzy Hey, there. So what did you and Lucian get up to? We flew to Glascan and defended a town from a presider* attack. Wyatts jaw nearly dropped at this news What?! Presiders are real?! Why do you fight farl damn mythical beasts while Im stuck with... morally objectionable crap! He turned to his customer; an attractive young women with dark eyes, *Presiders are thirty feet tall hulking carnivorous monsters that are said to roam the desolate frozen dead zone of Summit. Presiders are the subject of many childrens tales and folklore designed to keep them from straying too far north.

and dark skin; easily dark enough to be from New Preciphillie. Hello, maam. The woman looked timidly from one caller to the other. I...hope Im not interrupting. Lizzy waved a paw, dismissively Course not! Ill go chat with Anya. Catch you later, Wyattquish! The vermus sprung from the stall and onto the snow, trotting away with a merry spring in her step. Wyatt immediately fixed his attention to the lady at his stall How can I help you? he asked, politely. Actually, I think its I who can help you. Ive found an... echo, do you call it? Wyatt nodded, quickly stooping low and grabbing a separate pad clipped to a board; his echo list. It currently had around a dozen names written upon, all of which had been crossed out as the callers had dealt with them one by one over the last few months. Saar, who had already checked on Edwin and Anyas stalls, was now rounding back to Wyatts and approaching slowly. Wyatt sighed to himself as he watched the embodied lecture stroll his way, but tried not to let it distract him. Whered you find it, maam? New Preciphillie. Its in the Sunset Slums; in an old taverns third bedroom. Its called the Gem in Rough. Wyatt wrote all this information down Ok... did it speak? The woman shook her head She didnt. I tried to get her to talk but she ignored me. Thats fine, maam. Most echoes dont respond to spirits but every now and again they do. Just means we can sometimes walk in knowing what the unfinished business is right away. The woman shrugged, helplessly Sorry. Wyatt put his pencil down, smiling Dont worry about it. Is there anything else? Uhh... The woman brushed her black fringe from her eyes and stared upwards in thought for a few seconds No. I dont think so. Ill join a queue again if something comes up. Wyatt gave a thumbs up Understood, maam. Have a nice undeath! Thanks! the woman moved away, revealing Saar standing right behind her, shooting one of her trademark looks of sympathy and warmth. Like all sweet things, however, being given too much of this could make a person sick. Wyatt... You know, you can have the day off... You experienced a lot for a first mission... she said. Wyatt had another two customers waiting, but Saar quickly turned to them Could you two speak to the other callers while Wyatt and I have a little chat? Wyatt snapped, suddenly No, no, no! Dont send away my clients! Saar didnt even glance at Wyatt, despite his arguing. The two spirits tutted and sighed, moving away to Edwin and Anya. Lizzy and Anya were currently giggling like school girls at some mundane topic, and Anyas queue was home to a number of irritated and impatient faces. Once the stall was clear, Saar turned back to Wyatt with her big maternal eyes. I spoke to the nice elderly lady you just interviewed. She said you threatened to door her. Are you sure youre alright, Rook? Thats the sixth spirit today youve threatened to door. I wasnt really gonna do it... he could tell by Saars stern hands-on-hips motion that this excuse didnt warrant a lack of apology Sorry, champion. Wont happen again. See that it doesnt. Im giving you one more hour of duty, and then I want you to send off your starls and have some downtime, understand?

...Yeah... champion... Saar took a few steps towards Rook, leaning in a little to give them some more privacy Wyatt, no matter what Oswald told you, were here to do that right thing. Youve been thrown in at the deep end, and thats unfortunate, but-... Am I meant to destroy the Palecallers?... Wyatt interrupted, quickly. Saar blinked, stuttering on her own response W...Well... I just... It may have... said something... along those lines. She waved a hand, swatting the concept away like an irritating insect Its prophecy. Its vague and strange... and possibly nonsense. It mentions the bearer of the War Within as some sort of bane to us, but... You dont want to destroy us, do you? Wyatt shook his head Of course not... my pa died so I could be here... Then dont worry, Wyatt. While I believe in fate, I dont believe prophecies control them... as I told you before, its likely not literal. Prophecies are heavily symbolic, using a lot of-... Its fine, champion... I understand. Rook cut in a second time. Ill... go off duty in an hour. Saar straightened up with a smile Good. If theres ever anything you need, dont be afraid to come and find me. Vulpe is going to spend some time with you when shes back, and were going to see if we can get your doors under control, ok? Wyatt nodded, silently Alright. Please dont just remain silent if this becomes an issue for you. The Concierge is a frightening prospect, but I assure you, we are in complete control. Oswald was incredibly good with words... and...he could have been of some influence... Champion... Wyatt began, slowly ...Is it-... Do you punish us for leaving? Could we ever... have another life? Saar stopped and pondered for a few moments Oswald wasnt our concern when he disappeared. Most of us thought him dead and we simply left it at that... It wasnt until he betrayed us that we had to step in... Oswald was... difficult. He was never at peace with what was necessary, but hed still do it... he descended into this irredeemable spiral... until one day, he just never came home. We sent spirits out looking for him but hed just... vanished. We of course know now that he didnt just hide; he completely reinvented himself... posing as this bandit; Lincoln. ...So if it got bad... I could... leave? Saars expression became pained as she listened to Rooks concerns You could never have a normal life beyond this, Wyatt. Youd see the spirits of the dead wherever you went... and the duty would always claw its way back to you. Oswald didnt have that issue... Oswald hated us, Wyatt...He hated everything we stand for... Dont become like him. This world needs us, I promise you. Saar was almost on the verge of begging, her eyes wide with desperation Dont throw this away. Dont throw us away. We want to help people! Wyatt, youd know if I was lying... look me in the eye and tell me Im lying. Wyatt followed the order as best he could, setting his analytical gaze upon Saar. Her body language was open and honest, without even a hint of deceit conveyed through a single part of her. He sighed, with both relief and exhaustion, breaking his scan and turning away. Saar, her confidence restored, gave a firm nod Thats what I thought. Were devoted to the preservation and protection of Rime. Youve been warned, time and time again that sometimes it gets rough... its just unfortunate you had to witness what you did on your first mission. Your next assignments will be much cleaner; Ive made sure of that. Ok? Wyatts expression was still deflated, but he gave the answer the champion was looking for Ok, Saar.

Good. Any echoes? Wyatt slid his list over with the brand new name written upon Just the one. New Preciphillie. No audible unfinished business so far. Saar took the board and read through the notes Wyatt had scribbled. Hrm... Sounds simple enough. Ill send Lucian down to The Dry Divide tomorrow. She took a quick mental note before handing the list back to Rook, taking out a small pad and jotting it down herself. Hand in your spirits unfinished business when youre done, as usual. Well get it allocated. Wyatt gave a half-hearted thumbs up Understood. Youve got one hour, Wyatt. Im relieving you afterwards. See you then. Saar winked, in a friendly but slightly unsettling manner. Wyatt couldnt help but watch her as she walked away in that dress of hers; unfamiliar to the sight of her without her armour. He chuckled, shaking his head and relaxing on his chair, waiting for his next client. He closed his heavy eyelids for a moment; he was still tired, despite what could be considered a fairly good nights sleep. Apparently witnessing a massacre really took it out of you. He was once again lost in thought in mere seconds, the world around him temporarily closed off. He played the events of the other day over and over in his mind, reviewing every fragment of the memory to try and find some sort of sign that would help him swing one way or another. Oswald hadnt been lying, but hed been a victim of his own philosophy. The Palecallers were evil, but only in his perspective. Hed had no way of swaying Wyatt because hed had no solid evidence to back up his disturbing claims. Only a fool would agree to turn on their new family just because of the insubstantial, unproved rantings of a yammering lunatic. As he internally analysed the zealous expression on Oswalds face, a voice, low and commanding, dragged him from his own memories Wyatt Rook... snapping his eyes open and sitting up straight, Wyatt was faced with a tall hooded figure, dressed all in long, black robe. Almost unnatural shadows shrouded his face, making it impossible to see. Do I have your attention? The man said. His voice was one of those ones that sounded like someone Wyatt knew, but he couldnt place a finger on where hed heard it before. Thats me. How can I help ya? The spirit placed a gloved hand on the stall. A single ring upon the middle finger shone brightly on the dark material. They fear you, Wyatt Rook. Theyre hiding their true colours from your ever-so-delicate eyes... Wyatt blinked. He checked to see if anyone else was in his queue, or indeed if any spirits or callers were paying attention. They were all distracted by their tasks or conversations, meaning Wyatt could lean in close and inquire without suspicion. ...What the farl you on about? he hissed in a whisper. The process in which a Palecaller is created is not quick... it is arduous and lengthy, requiring constant maintenance and alteration. The champion speaks of fate like it is your own, but for these last twenty four years, it has been theirs... Wyatt frowned Pa told me they made changes here and there to keep me on the right track. So what? Im over it... Aw...ho... The hooded spectre shook his head, practically cooing over Rook like he was an innocent and ignorant baby Youre not seeing the full picture. Youre not thinking big enough. They didnt just poke and prod to ensure you learnt and developed... they set up your life and then they tore it down. It was the only way they could be sure... Wyatt, a little unconvinced, but still listening, leant forward even closer ...Sure of what?

That youd join them, child... They made sure you had no alternative... and then they dangled the concept of your own free will, youre own choosing before your eyes... A concept, nothing more... just enough to make you think you were in control. Before Wyatt could answer or argue, the ghost retracted his ringed hand and said Let me show you.... Wyatts vision immediately became fuzzy. The colour drained from the world around him, and he felt his body go limp, collapsing onto his stall. He was thrown into darkness, still fully aware and still loomed over by this strange new faceless spirit. Soon he felt all essence of physicality escape, until he was nothing but a disembodied entity floating in darkness. The ghost moved to Wyatts peripheral vision and waited. Within the darkness, shapes began to form. Whispers and recognisable voices raced through the empty space. As if being built from blocks of reality, a scene began to construct itself before the pair. A battlefield emerged; a town under attack. Humans were manning coastal defences while fenrye forces poured onto the beaches and dropped from the sky, deployed by an enormous predatory bird; a krondor. The shouts of commands and bestial battle roars of fenrye filled the air, along with the explosive bangs of gunpowder. Wyatt felt a part of this terrible scene, looking around it with wide eyes ...Whats... going on? he asked the ghost. This is the battle of Tideguard, twenty four years ago. This is the battle in which your father died...As if on cue, Wyatt spotted Zachery in the battlements of a small fort, wearing the armour and tabard Wyatt had become so familiar with. He was currently holding a rifle, but not making much use of it. Do you remember how he died? Wyatt recalled perfectly He was frozen solid... by Chillsire... the fenrye riding that big bird. He pointed at the krondor, just as it let out a deafening, piercing screech. Its wingspan was almost as large as the entire settlement. It was a horrifying thing to behold. Wyatt watched as the creature dived for the tower his father was stationed upon, destroying it, sending rubble cascading in all directions. Zachery and his men thudded to the floor, routed. They began running in all directions, but Zachery remained calm, leaving the rifle where hed lied and moving on, unarmed. Whats he doing?... Wyatt queried. Hes trying to die... so he can return as a ghost. He was sure hed die in this invasion... but...the others werent... As the ghost spoke, artillery began to rain down upon the fenrye forces. The fenrye began to lose. Chillsire retreated... taking the Shadowcast with him... But... your fathers memories are at least... partly correct. Through the smoke and dust kicked up by the shelling, two fenrye emerged, charging through the battlefield, hopping over the dead bodies of their friends and enemies alike. As they came closer, it became apparently who they were ...Volke? Vulpe? Transfixed by the scene, Wyatt watched as the two fenrye bounded straight towards Zachery, without hesitation or mercy. Vulpe raised her hand, which glowed with an eerie light, and before he could even register what was happening, Zachery was a frozen statue. Volke continued to charge, cleaving the already dead man into shards. The siblings exchanged brief glances, before disappearing into the chaos once again. Ever since the start, Wyatt, theyve controlled everything... even your fathers death. The scene warped and twisted into darkness once again. Wyatt composed himself, shaking his head ...He was going to die anyway... this aint changing a thing... The ghost remained silent as a second, much smaller environment manifested

A dark, miserable wooden cabin came into view, with four individuals sat around a single table, playing a game of Wild Card. While they all looked a little familiar, one of them was indistinguishable; a vermus, wearing a cowl that had heavily inspired Wyatt has a child; The Owl, later to be known as Vincent. Vince won the hand, and his lackeys groaned as he raked in the winnings If youre going to gripe, dont play, chaps! The vermus cheerily said. Without warning, or any indication whatsoever, the door to the shack suddenly burst open. Lucian and Oswald sprinted inside through the opening, jumping up and pressing their ivoryon blades to the throats of two of the bandits. Vince went for his own sword, but the other two stopped him Dont move, and no one will get harmed. Oswald said, with a foreshadowing sense of guilt. Through the door next, stooping a little to enter, came Saar, fully dressed in ivoryon armour, as usual. Wyatt just watched, unable to gawk in this bodiless state. The three callers looked a little younger than they did now, but considering this was over twenty years ago, it was astounding how well the ley had preserved them. Vincent, isnt it? Saar began. Vince chuckled, removing his cowl and flashing an award winning smile For you, sweetie, Im whoever you want me to be. Cut the crap. Saar said in a harsh tone I have a job for you. Vince, unable to stop himself, laughed again Really? Usually its the other way around... Saar sighed, nodding to Oswald, who raised his blade into a striking position. Vince quickly stopped him Ok! Ok! My apologies... You have my attention. Theres a young boy, nine years old, named Wyatt Rook. I want you to train him. Vince raised an eyebrow, leaning over the table What? Train him? Do I look like a teacher? You look like a criminal who knows his trade, and thats what I want. Then hire me, for crying out loud. Why are you bringing a child onto this? Vince argued. Saar shook her head, taking a few steps forward, her metal boots clunking on the wooden floor. Hes special. I need him, so heres the deal. Have one of your thugs bring in Wyatt Rook, and not only will I have your name cleared with the local authorities, but Ill also spare your life. Its generous, considering what I did to the last thief I met. Vince looked Saar up and down, before eyeing the two vermus threatening his men ....I want some coin with this deal. Saars lips stretched into a wicked grin I thought you might. She took out a bulging pouch of coins and tossed it onto the table. Some of its contents spilled onto the cards, the glint of gold reflecting in the eager cat burglars eye. ...Alright... You got a deal. Tell me more about this... Rook. And with that final line, the scene disassembled and dissolved into nothing. Once again in darkness, Rook glanced to the spectre, expectantly. The ghost spoke, as hed anticipated When they brought you in, they acted as if the snatch was spontaneous. They did everything to make sure you and no one else in your life would ever know the truth... that you had been created for The Palecallers... Before Wyatt could say anything, the ghost pressed on Lets look at something a little more... recent... Bleeding through the darkness came the light of a sunny day, which quickly surrounded Wyatt and his odd new friend

A Wolfbane Pact supply cart stood alone in the forest. Tethered to it; a pair of woolorths that were casually chomping away on the grass at their hooves. Wispy kyne drifted lazily through the air, leaving their spore-filled, luminescent trails behind them. Wyatt moved closely to confirm his suspicions. This was indeed the cart hed stolen; the very same cart that Aris had snatched away from him and left him to die at the hands of the loan shark, Grieves. Why would the ghost show him this? Surely this didnt mean... Edwin! I want this cart moved to the north. Saar and Edwin had entered the clearing from opposite ends, wearing rather inconspicuous outfits. Sure, sure. Im on it. Edwin jogged over to the carriage, swinging himself onto the drivers seat as Saar approached the tree where Wyatt almost met his end. She took out a dagger and a note from her pocket, impaling the scrap of paper with one quick motion into the bark. As Edwin began to ride off, he called after the champion This is a little cold, isnt it? Blaming his girlfriend? Shes holding him back. This kills two birds with one stone. Saar nodded at the note, proudly, before turning Besides, shes not his girlfriend. You think wed let him have a girlfriend? Did Fraya let me have a boyfriend? Heh, didnt Fraya tear up all the romantic cards fellas sent you? She did. Its for the best I didnt know until much later... just like itll be for the best for Wyatt and the others. The cart rolled out of the clearing with Saar walking at its side. The conversation faded into the distance. As if time was suddenly sped forward, the sun began to shoot through the sky at an abnormal pace. It sunk in mere seconds, allowing the moon to rise in its place and stars to fill the clear skies. The note had been torn away, and the body of Grieves lay slain upon the dewed grass. Wyatts unconscious body was nowhere to be seen; it was probable Maya and the wrangler had already taken him to the surgery. In the darkness, holding a bloodstained rapier, stood Vince, eyes narrowed. Looming over Vince was the unmistakable foreboding form of Saar once again. They were exchanging tense but hushed words to one another. You told the wrangler?! You fool! Saar hissed, furiously He was dying, bitch. I needed the bioborn. Vince replied Watch your tongue. I told you Wyatt would survive but you went and screwed this up anyway. After fifteen years of working for us, how the farl did you ruin it now!? I love that imbecile, Sahavra... Im not prepared to stand by and watch him bleed out just so you can whisk him away to your shady little mountain top. Vince backed away as Saar pulled her sword. Wyatt gasped, trying to somehow intervene but completely incapable of doing so. Hes in wrangler custody now... we cant whisk him away anywhere... so youre going to take the fall. What?! This was your mistake, Vincent. Wyatt is about to be shipped off to the Leylands because of what you did. You can try and fail to fight the wranglers holding him, or you can take the blame, say you made the cast, and let Wyatt live out his days as a benefit to the people of Rime. Vinces ears dropped, along with his arms. ...Yes... Champion...

Wyatt felt an anger hed not felt in a long time bubbling up within him. As the scene dissolved as the others before it, his spiritual guide glided before him And now... my personal favourite... He floated aside, revealing another forest scene, this one totally new. The smallest of cave-like shelters was visible in a rocky hillside. As before, the sun was shining and the birds were singing. It was in the height of Lumina, but as Wyatt concentrated, something told him this wasnt just the same season, but the same day as before. Within the cave, curled into a furry ball, lied a sleeper, a troll, Everlast Woods most fearsome predator, snoozing away and waiting for Glacenox to return. Before he could question this events significance, a group of men dressed in hide outfits appeared over the hill, creeping as quietly as they could and holding an array of deadly weapons. At their head, with his unmistakable blonde hair and snarky expression, was Aston. They made sure you had nothing, Wyatt Rook... the ghost said, from some unseen position. Nothing that could sway you from your... destiny... The hunters approached, signalling to one another with hand gestures. They began to surround the cave, tactically and efficiently. But then something came flying from the forest; a stone; a single, innocent, harmless stone. The tiny rock swung upwards in a smooth arc, and landed directly on the sleepers nose. Wyatt quickly turned to try and spot the thrower; The flash of an ivoryon suit dazzled him for a mere second, its owner rushing off into the forest. Saar. It had to be. With a terrible snarl, the sleeper awoke, lunging for the hunters with a maternal rage, revealing its baby which it had been protecting. The sleeper rushed to the men, one by one, tearing their limbs from their bodies and gouging out entire organs. Wyatt could have yelled with fear if he wasnt so paralysed by it. Unable to tear away his eyes as the viscera flew across the hill, he whispered to the ghost ...Turn it off... the vision continued, the sleeper slashing three inch deep wounds into a mans face, cleanly removing an entire eye. The monster then set its gaze on Aston, who was already in the process of retreat. It chased after him, roaring, moving closer, and closer TURN IT OFF! Wyatt yelled. Just as the sleeper pounced, the scene shattered into darkness. Wyatt was once again floating in an endless void, the hooded man squarely before him. Wyatt called what he hoped was a bluff This is quishcrap! There is no way... no way theyd do that! Youve seen what they do, Wyatt Rook. Is this so beyond them? They need Palecallers to keep this world alive... but the concept of choice is one that does not exist... They control you. They build you. Ever since this journey began, they have watched you and cared for you... Pictures appeared before Wyatts eyes in the form of memories The notes on your door. The abyssei that saved you, the Lakebank mayor that guided you, the wranglers that attacked your home to ensure you had no choice but to run... even the ivoryon bullet, placed before you at the Lakebank tavern as your father invoked a recollected dream... And its not just you. Its the same for all of you... Remember what Anyas life was like?... They created that life, that fate. Theyve lied to you because they knew youd never agree to this duty if you knew what it entailed... But now your eyes are open. Youve seen the memories of your fellow callers...

This... this is... Wyatt was almost lost for words, so he blurted out the one question that was hounding him above all others Who the farl are you!? The hooded figure chuckled, slowly fading away. His voice emanated through Wyatts mind as he was hurled back into the waking world I am The Pale. Hey! Hey! Wyatt stirred, the giggling of Elizabeth in his ear Wyaaaatt. If youre really that knackered then let me take over for you. The vermus was sat on the stall beside his head. Hed collapsed onto the stall itself when the ghost had pulled him into the black. He remembered everything, clearly, and his rage had not subsided. In one quick motion, he stood up, shaking off his daze and marching away. Lizzy frowned, hopping down from the stall and following Rook. Whats wrong? Get Anya and Vagrant... Its time we got some answers... Lizzy complied, but not without a look of extreme concern. She waved to Anya and beckoned. The Norvaskan girl rolled her eyes, moving away from her own stall and jogging after the others. Edwin and Lucian also followed, detecting something was wrong, no doubt. Wyatt burst through the door of the ley training chamber, where Vagrant and Volke were currently meditating. As Wyatt stormed by them with nearly every other caller tailing him, he barked an order You two. Follow. Vagrant and Volke glanced to each other, before pushing themselves to their feet and following Wyatt out of the room and into the great hall. Saar was currently walking down it, chatting to some of the hand maidens. As she saw literally every Palecaller, excluding Vulpe, pile through the door into the corridor, she hurriedly sent her servants away, blocking the path. ...Wyatt? Rook ignored her, walking straight by her and approaching the corridors centre; where the door to The Reliquary stood Wyatt, what are you doing?! Wyatt kept his mouth shut until he reached the immaculate golden doors and turned to face them, coming to a halt GLACE! he roared Open this damn door.... Saar jogged forward, urgently trying to calm the young man Wyatt!? What is this!? He doesnt just open the door when y-... Before she could finish her sentence, the many mechanical parts of the portal began to slide and clank into place. Wyatt shot Saar a toxic glare, which he angrily held until the double doors swung open, blasting the assembled group with a rush of hot air from within. Wyatt marched inside, defiantly, ignoring the multiple commands to stand down from the others. Rook stomped inwards, moving deeper into the room and approaching the towering staircase, the summit of which the Divine of Cold sat upon. Wyatt Rook! Stand down! Get back here! Wyatt placed one foot upon the first step of the ascent, and held his ground there. Glace! I want answers... and yall the only one wholl give them... The Dragon Knight stood, leaving his throne, and very slowly began to descend, his glowing eyes fixed on Wyatt in a cold, calculating stare. Proceed... the divine said, a flurry of snowflakes billowing from his wings as he spread them. My friends... My life... Our lives... Did you destroy them so wed have nothing left but this? Krosinox paused, before walking a little quicker, the steps freezing at his touch ...Who told you this?... What does it matter?! Is it true?! Answer me! The divine continued to approach, getting larger and larger, but Wyatt stood his ground

It matters. Who informed you of this?! You were not ready. So its true, then? You murdered Aston... You murdered my best friend. What?! Saar audibly shouted Wyatt, thats crazy! Yes, we did some... alterations, here and there, but we never killed your friends! Wyatt turned, ignorantly allowing the divine to encroach further I saw it. I saw everything! You sent Vince away! You made me think Aris left me for dead! You killed my father! And you murdered Aston! Saar pressed her hands together, practically pleading, begging even Wyatt, please! Youre being poisoned against us! Just like Oswald was! Just like Farl was! Yes, we made you believe Aris stole from you, and yes, Im sorry but we had Vince take the blame for your leycast, but we never murdered your friends! You killed pa! He wanted to die! He wanted to help us! We gave him a soldiers death. He never knew. Wyatt pointed next to Vagrant and Anya And what about them?! Did you want Vagrants sister to die? Did you want Anya to be... abused like that?! If youve been watching over us our whole lives, WHY THE FARL COULDNT YOU STOP THAT?! Anya placed a hand over her mouth, turning to face Volke, accusingly. Vagrant just hung his head, dejectedly. It was only then that Wyatt felt a cold breath on his hair. The strands of brunette turned brittle and solid with each exhale. Wyatt turned to see Krosinox looming over him. A cold, reptilian claw closed around the collar of his coat, pulling him closer Who.... Told.... You... Caller... Wyatt shivered, uncontrollably I... I dont know who he was... He wore a hood and a dark robes... he showed me the memories... He showed me everything! You have been selected by a dark force, Rook... He strives to control the War Within... He wants to turn the tide. Closer still he pulled Wyatt We are not your enemy...The changes we made in your life were twenty eight percent decrease in quality, and seventy two percent increase. Without the callers... you would be another body to burn before the snow melts... The death of your friend was not part of my scheme. An unfortunate coincidence, it was. Wyatt shook his head, still refusing to believe I saw a caller running from the scene! Did you see a face? Wyatt hesitated, before shaking his head I... I just saw the armour... Krosinox let out a rattled sigh, gently placing Wyatt back onto his feet and turning away Champion... these initiates are compromised. Sahavra bowed her head, sadly, but respectfully I know... sire... Make sure they all receive the guidance they need... He rose to his throne slowly Leave me. I must contemplate the identity of this corruptor... Of course, sire. At once... Saar skittered over to Wyatt, grabbing his wrist firmly and painfully, before yanking him away. The other senior callers quickly herded the other initiates from the room as well, just as they also began to bark questions and objections. The doors to the Reliquary swung shut, sealing the history within away from the world once again. The initiates were all shouting over one another in bids to be heard, and were only silenced when Saar pulled her blade and slammed it against the stone floor. The harmonic, piercing chime was enough to catch and hold their attentions. Listen to me... Anya, Lizzy, Vagrant... Wyatt... The Palecallers recruit through decades of control, manipulation and deceit... We shape your lives in

almost every conceivable way... we control your highs and your lows... and naturally, we dont want you to know that until you are ready... Traditionally... the seniors leave notes for the next generation to read upon their demise... You dont find out we pulled the strings until were... gone. Its better that way, and it always has been... She looked to each of them in turn A negative force is opposing this tradition, exposing your unprepared minds to truths you should not yet need. Every single one of us went through this same process... and we learnt to live with it. You can too... the past is the past... we need to focus on the present... One day, you will all perform the same routine on your own initiates... But no matter what this force tells you, we do not murder your friends and family! ...He was there... Anya said. Her head was hung, but the drops of moisture at her feet made it obvious she was crying ...He... was one of them... Everyone glanced to Anya as she looked up, her eyes damp and red. She stared at Volke ...Now I know. I remember... I wasnt sure why I hated him... but now I realise. Saar gestured to Volke Youre dismissed. Go to your quarters. Volke nodded, and began to move away, but Anya shouted after him, her words dotted with the occasional stutter You just watched! You could ha...have stopped it! You let it happen again and... again! Volke stopped, glancing over his shoulder. If fenrye could give puppy dog eyes, he was doing a good job of trying ...I am sorry, cazak... It taught you strength... and I could not intervene... Why not?! Because of orders from that?! she pointed to the door You think its fair that you dropped me into this life?! That you made me beg for my own farling death every night! Well congratulations! Youve got someone who can f...fight... I hope it was w...worth it... Volke turned, but Saar waved him away yet again I said youre dismissed. Volke briefly ignored the champion, standing his ground Anya, I protected you where I could... where I needed to... I kept you alive... but what must be must be... It didnt have to be! You could have stopped him! You could have torn that fort apart! You could have taken me away! Those not hardened by Rime rarely survive the Salience. We have tried everything, Anya... this was the only way. Then I didnt want your way! I would have rather lived in a quiet town and hunted farling animals than be tortured and... used... for twenty years! I thought you bastards took me away from that, but you were the ones who put me there! The senior callers exchanged looks, perhaps guiltily, it was hard to tell. Volke sighed, closing his eyes I am sorry... he rotated away and began to depart. He only stopped once again when he heard Anyas voice speak out, much colder and much quieter than before ...By honoured law of Eonfeygorl, I challenge you, son of Whitehowl. Like bolts of white lightning, the senior Palecallers leapt into action. Lucian sprinted towards Anya while Saar and Edwin rushed to Volke, immediately restraining him with four frozen chains. Volke did not resist, or even move. ...Take back your challenge, sister... Anya shook her head, almost still blinded with tears No... Lizzy hissed, angrily Anya, what the farl are you doing?! Hell kill you! Take back your challenge! Vagrant remained silent, while Wyatt tried to think of something helpful he could input with. Anya didnt take her eyes of Volke, but Rook could see the emotion within them, even at this angle.

...Let him go. She said, drawing her axe. Saar conjured two more chains on the fenrye, drawing her sword and pointing it towards Anya Hrongmar! Cancel your challenge, NOW! No... We can remedy this! Give us a chance! I dont want redemption... Anya took a few steps forward, before her legs were shackled together by a cast from Lucian. Anya! Wyatt called out. For the first time, she actually looked at the initiates ...Dont throw your life away... What happened was... horrible... but we can get through this... You dont get it, Rook! she shouted back at him, the tears streaming once again I always wanted to escape! And now that I have, Im with the people responsible! She shook her head, her hands trembling with rage and sadness I cant escape it... Wyatt... Not on this world. And with that, she turned, bringing the flat of the blade to Lucians face. The vermus flew off into a wall and slumped to the floor, barely conscious. She slashed through the frozen binds and began to approach. When Wyatt, Vagrant and Lizzy prepared to intervene, Anya gestured a hand behind her, a frozen wall completely dividing them from the rest of the room. Wyatt thudded his fist against the barricade for a moment, before turning to Vagrant Tear it down! Vagrant nodded, beginning the deconstruction process as Anya drew closer to Volke, twirling her axe. Dog. Fight me. I know you have no choice... You fenrye never do. Saar rushed at Anya, blade poised, stopping the blade an inch before her throat. Anya didnt even flinch Stop this insanity! We need you, Anya! We need every Palecaller! There arent enough of us! Please! I know you cant hurt me until I take back the challenge, or Volke will just come and find me. Hes obliged now... its hardwired within him... like all of them... He has to kill me, or die trying. Take back your challenge! Well do anything! Anya placed a hand on Saars sword, calmly Can you turn back time? Saar opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Volkes voice; he spoke in no more than a mutter, with a tonne of regret embedded in each syllable. ....Are you at peace, cazak?... Anya shoved Saar way, holding her axe up What the farl do you think? With a savage roar, Volke broke free of the bindings, backhanding Edwin and sending him sliding across the stone tiles, where he quickly recovered. Vagrant managed to shatter the wall at this moment, and every Palecaller found themselves sprinting for the pair. Volke was already charging, his key in his hand. VOLKE! FIGHT IT! Saar screamed, desperately, trying to intercept her friend. The shouts fell on deaf ears. Just seconds from the group reaching them, a Devils Door sprung open behind Anya. The woman held her axe, with minimal effort, watching the fenrye pounce towards her. Edwin and Saar fired chains from their hands, to try and pull Anya to safety, but the fenrye reached her first. With one powerful shove, just inches from Wyatts outstretched hand, Anya went falling back through the light without a sound. The door closed, evaporating into silver smoke, and Anya lay motionless, her axe clattering down beside her. Lizzy and Wyatt tried to scoop her up, as if there was some sort of chance she could have survived Anya! Annie?! There was no response, as was to be expected. Wyatt stood, wiping his eyes and turning towards Volke. The fenrye looked even worse than he did. The seniors and Vagrant all stood in silence, unable to conjure words that would help. Lizzy continued to shake Anya, hopelessly in

denial. Annie...Anya... Wyatt approached Volke, curving back his fist and punching the fenrye in the face, as hard as he could. Volkes head took the impact, but he didnt resist, or even growl. He gave Wyatt a single nod, accepting this as a punishment, before walking away. Wyatt then approached Lizzy, scooping her off her feet and into his arms. She immediately began to wriggle and struggle What are you doing?! Shes fine! Shes fine! Rook carried her away down the corridor, as he yells of protest turned into shrieks of sorrow. The vermuss cries echoed through the halls of Palthgar, gradually fading into the void.

Chapter Twenty Four Descent

Three Hundred and Eighteen Days Ago They can control a lot, Wyatt, but they cant strip you of your free will. Every Palecaller goes through this same process. I can only guess at your reaction... anger, frustration, sadness, perhaps just acceptance. The news is typically left until after the senior callers have passed away to avoid creating scapegoats; figures of blame which you can actively target. I can only assume this is the case once again. Being a Palecaller involves being totally selfless. They may have damned your previous life, but your previous life may well have been a machination of their own: Something that rarely occurs is a Palecaller initiate dying due to Rimes natural hazards, and you were no exception. They protected you just as much as they nudged your life from behind the scenes; I should know, I watched them do it. I myself was just another cog in the machine; I founded the house in which I insisted you be born, but not before Id become a professional in the field I had to pose in. The process took years; years of careful planning and calculation that would result in a single purpose; a particular birth at a particular time, in a particular place, to a particular mother, to receive a particular upbringing with particular morals, and to live a particular life. All of these calculations are made before and after your birth by Glace himself. While he cant see the future, he essentially literally creates it. You would not be who you are if it werent for Krosinox, and what Krosinox needed was a roguish Caller with experience in the fields of crime, survival and endurance. He needed someone analytical; someone who could pinpoint motives and detect lies; someone who could play diplomat and someone who wouldnt kill for the sake of killing alone. All of this said, Wyatt, youre still not a construct. No one can truly be carved into shape in the way you might imagine. Your skills are something we ensured you acquired, but your personality was not. You are who you are; you are Wyatt Rook. The Callers have to not only create your life, but maintain and alter things when you essentially go off-track. You were not, by any means, a puppet. I recall watching and laughing as they had to clean up after you, ensuring the Pact didnt imprison you, providing you with exit strategies when things went awry. Glace could predict a lot based on his cold mathematical approach, but he could not predict the trouble you got yourself into. Heh heh... All of this might seem spiteful; the way they stole your life away from you, the way they substantially and drastically altered parts of your existence, from your romantic interests to your life of crime, but it was all done to either protect you, or those around you. Remember, the wranglers target almost indiscriminately. If they found out Aris or Aston were friends with a Palecaller, they would ship them away for questioning, or worse. By severing those relationships, The callers can reduce your desire to reveal some dangerous secrets, whilst at the same time, not hurting anyone. The Palecallers can dig themselves into a hole sometimes, and without resorting to violence, getting out can get a struggle, but theyd never harm an innocent without strong and threatening reason. But heres the hard part... Now you know the truth of what happened, theres a challenge in preventing yourself from rekindling the flames of another time. You exist to protect, my son. Do not paint targets onto friends from the past. The wranglers will find them... And through them, they may yet find you.

Present Day Wyatt peered out sleepily through a pair of glass goggles, squinting through the layer of frost that had formed upon them. The frigid wind was rushing through his hair, his cloak and scarf flapping behind him like furry flags. It was hard to say just how high above the ground he was gliding, but the sun and moon had carelessly shot by twice, with the night encroaching for a third time since departure. His gloved hands were gripping the sylph frame of his personal glider, but he was not alone in the skies. The gliders had a limited range, and shouldnt have been capable of extremely long-distance travel. However, he was receiving a tow. Tied to either side of Rooks glider with some sturdy, flexible cords were Sonya and Blake, the ley-risen wyte that acted as mounts for the vermus callers. Lucian and Elizabeth were leaning low on their backs, although through the gloom and the mist, they were barely visible. The flapping, bat-like wings of the airborne mammalian creatures rhythmically eclipsed the moon and the stars above. They provided Wyatt with some comfort; a feeling of company, despite the fact the conversations had died a few hundred miles back. It had been over two weeks since Anyas death: Sixteen days of close monitoring, psychotherapy and reassurance that what happened hadnt been his fault. The guilt was still locked around his ankle like a ball and chain, encumbering him as he dragged it behind. Saar had refused to deploy Rook, Vagrant and Elizabeth until just a few days ago, claiming they could have been compromised. It was a fair assumption, really; the thought of escape was horribly frequent right now, to Wyatt at least. It was hard to gauge the psychological state of Lizzy and Vagrant, as both of them had become very incommunicative. Lizzy in particular hadnt said a word since the tears had dried up. Whenever Wyatt tried to chat to her, at best he would receive a jaded and slightly hostile look. Vagrant would talk, but he never was the most comforting of individuals. Saar had sent Vagrant away with Edwin on a new assignment to the south coast, and Lucian was accompanying Lizzy and Wyatt on a long trip to The Everlast Woods; Wyatts home province. She wouldnt have dared sent them alone, in case they refused to return, just like Morgarth Farl did. The three of them had been warned on multiple occasions what the consequences would be should they flee; mostly threats of painful reacquisition, but sometimes they mixed it up with a death threat or two. They werent being malignant, or even overly intimidating, but they were hammering home the concept of doing what was necessary. A few snowflakes hit Wyatts face, although he couldnt feel it. His body temperature must have been lower than that of a frozen corpse. He felt terribly unnatural, but wasnt prepared to complain. Hed rather feel a bit odd than have his extremities turn black and fall off in grumpy defiance of his fathers grand predictions. He felt his shielded eyelids droop for what felt like the millionth time. Again he contemplated the potential issues should he sink into a brief nap. He was being dragged along, and he was strapped onto this device. He wouldnt fall or tilt into a nose dive, so where was the harm in it? Closing his eyes, he felt himself almost immediately starting to slip into slumber. Callers! We cant take much more of this! Blake suddenly yelled over the howling winds We need to go down and find warmth! Great, thought Wyatt, shaking himself into the waking world once again. Ha! Speak for yourself... I can take it... Sonya yelled back. The pair of them had growling voices, and they usually started and ended each sentence with a high pitched sonar-squeak. Youre already descending. Theres snow building on your pelt! Lucian! We need to touch down. Lucian nodded, leaning against Sonyas mane

Hes right. We can light a fire when were on foot. Sir, I can-... Descend. Thats an order. Avoid population centres; and land in a void of civilisation. This is a stealth mission. I want no breach of security this far from Palthgar. Confirm! Confirmed, caller! Wyatt listened with intrigue. This was his first mission with Lucian and already there was such a massive difference in regards to group coordination. Lucian seemed quite militaristic, especially when placed in comparison to the rather brash and slightly barbaric approach Volke employed. Volke always held strong sway over his familiar, but hed never treated Wyatt like a soldier the way Lucian had been doing. Perhaps it was something to do with fenrye theories on what a warrior truly was... Master Rook! Miss Forktongue! Prepare to dive! Theres a blizzard at ground-level, so priority one will be creating shelter for Sonya and Blake! Wyatt released a single hand temporarily from the frame, giving Lucian a thumbs up, acknowledging the order. Lizzy nodded from a distance, but her slight response was hardly visible through the dark Miss Forktongue! Focus! She shot a glare in Lucians direction, her beady black eyes gleaming in the milky moonlight. Lucian sighed, but accepted the simple fact that this would be the best reply hed get from her. Detach the glider to prevent destabilisation. Master Rook! Follow closely! Acknowledged! Wyatt reached his hands for the two metal hooks that were binding him to the pair of wyte Three, two, one... Go for detachment! With a few quick flicks of his fingers, Rook released the elastic ropes, which quickly reeled back into the harnesses of Sonya and Blake. He immediately gripped onto the frame before him, tilting his body and dropping into a nose dive, closely pursuing the others as they shot by. Flakes of white zoomed by his periphery, simulating a tunnel-like effect from his perspective. He took a few deep, preparatory breaths as the foreboding mass of the murky grey clouds quickly approached. Rook! If youre separated, then send out Talazon. Hell find us. Will do! Brace! shouted Blake, as the stormy vaporous forms grew closer. Moments later, the wyte pair disappeared from sight, vanishing into the obscuring depths. Rook inhaled, deeply, focusing intently on the barely visible creatures. He had to stick as close as possible if he didnt want to end up as easy pickings for the local fauna. His glider sunk into the clouds, and immediately everything escalated. The snow hit his goggles in blinding clumps, practically blinding him. The wind rose to hostile levels, forcing him to shift his weight constantly to compensate for accidental skews and turns. The roaring in his ears made it impossible to hear the voices of his fellow callers, and for a few moments, he was shut off from the outside world. Entirely focused upon reaching the ground, he gave up hope of successfully following the others and just headed down. The wind buffeted him repeatedly, and the darkness made it almost impossible to tell if he was still on course, but he defiantly continued to plummet. After twenty seconds of amaurotic falling, Wyatt emerged from the clouds, instantly caught in the blizzard that loomed above. Immediately control became a thing of the past, but the route was a relatively simple one; straight down. The moonlight was gone, replaced by an inky black filled with scattered ash-like flakes. Even beyond the veil, the ground was still out of sight. In fact, it took Wyatt some time to realise one very crucial fact: That he probably wouldnt actually see the land coming... He cursed and quickly pulled back as hard as he could, trying to level out and slow his plunge, but to no avail. A glimmer of light reflecting from a rapidly approaching blanket of snow invoked a panic

within the falling caller, but no amount of flailing and yelling could oppose the force of gravity. Having just enough time to close his eyes, yell loudly and detach from the sylph glider frame, Wyatt slammed into the powdery snow. An icy plume marked the point of impact, and everything went black. Theyve lied to you because they knew youd never agree to this duty if you knew what it entailed... But now your eyes are open. Wyatt awoke to a pounding headache and a slight ringing in his ears. After initially flopping with distress at the brash realisation that he might be blind, Rook dazedly pulled his head from the snow and shook away the particles that clung to his matted, travel-sick hair. Groaning, he lifted himself from the neat Wyatt-shaped hole hed made. Nothing felt broken, although a few things felt a little bruised. Hed thank his lucky stars, if he could see any of them through the smog-like clouds that cloaked the sky, towering above as if theyd somehow defeated him. Wobbling a little, he stood, glancing around for signs of civilisation. He could barely see his own hand before his face, so it was a long shot. Thankfully, it paid off; a small series of light sources seemed to be present in the distance. Through the blizzard, it was impossible to tell whether or not they were miniscule candles or roaring pyres, but like a tired moth to a flame, he sluggishly began to trek toward it. The glider was sticking from the snow nearby, so he was able to scoop it up, collapse it down and sling it over his shoulder before proceeding. Lucian wanted to remain undetected for this series of assignments. According to the spirit scouts, the wrangler population had increased in the local area following a few hits on leyborn sanctuaries. Whilst he had plenty of experience in dodging the law, he had essentially promised he would attempt to reacquire contact with the vermus before proceeding. He sighed, and stopped. It was time to summon the avian pain in the ass. Before he could complete the summoning gesture, however, Rook heard a slightly suppressed voice over the howling wind. This way, Master Rook! He turned his head, just spotting the vermus and wyte constructing some sort of shelter a dozen or so metres to his left. Excellent, now he wouldnt have to deal with Talazon while deprived of sleep. Hed been dreading that. Wyatt hoisted the glider a little closer and stomped through the thigh-deep snow toward his allies. He was far to fatigued to focus on the snowwalk cast right now. As Rook approached, Lucian began a series of leycasts, manipulating the snow around him and forming it into bricks; some transparent, some opaque. Lizzy was barely visible; her fluffy parkour was just about poking out from the endless sea of white. The wyte were both shivering, heavily. They looked like they were struggling to remain conscious. They huddled together to share their body heat whilst observing Lucians construction process. Miss Forktongue, some assistance, if you would! Master Rook, make haste! There are lives at stake here! Wyatt, not wanting to seem selfish, picked up the pace a little Im comin! Im comin! D...D...Dont...pull a...m...muscle or... anything... Blake managed to call, between a pair of weak, sonar screeches. By the time Rook had arrived at the scene, the shelter was already nearly complete, with both Lucian and Lizzy working at it from either ends. It was a dome shape with a protruding archway for a door, with four windows that looked off to the north, east, south and west.

Master Rook Lucian began This ice is reinforced. Please head inside the shelter and light a fire. Im sure you know how... Even if you didnt pay attention in school... Well create a small channel for the smoke to escape through. Rook pulled his scarf down from his mouth, stooping low and heading in through the low doorway. The moment he was in, the last of the bricks slid into place. The wyte pair followed him in, barely separating from one another as they sat against one of the walls and watched, expectantly. Whilst Lizzy and Lucian started on some small reinforcements and camouflage, Rook dropped his bag to the ground and began to unload some tinder and kindling. The snow had been cleared within, used for some of the bricks, so for the first time in several months, Rook found himself standing on grass. It was withered and starved, but it was grass all the same. Dropping to his knees, Rook began to build a small tepee, filling it with small flammable scraps and ensuring it had plenty of room to breathe. Once happy with the result, Wyatt pulled up his sleeve, revealing an ivorn warder device. He turned a few dials and the machine conjured forth a small flame. Lighting a fire was much easier than it used to be, that was for sure. He glanced up at the shelters ceiling where a cornered chimney had been constructed to prevent the snow from falling in. Taking a step back, he aimed the warders barrel and pulled the trigger as it slid down to his fingers. A stream of flame consumed the wooden cone, igniting it instantaneously. Blake and Sonya padded towards the flames, flinching ever so slightly as the heat penetrated them perhaps a little too quickly. Thanks... Sonya muttered, still shuddering violently. Blake just gave a nod, rotating around the fire, allowing the warmth to wash over him from pointy ears to barbed tail. Dont mention it. Wyatt grunted, suppressing a yawn Ngh... Damn near forgot what its like to be cold... Heh, maybe they should start hiring Palecaller ley-risen, eh? We considered it. Lucians voice sounded out as he padded through the door with Lizzy on his tail. Lizzy took a moment to courteously construct a little door on her way in. Lucian walked straight over to the western window and peered out into the night It was far too difficult... Ley-risen can only be sired by the bioraisers within the Leylands... If only we could learn their techniques... the Palecallers efficiency could be increased exponentially. Wyatt sat down beside the fire, stretching his hand towards it, trying to remember what it once felt like Too many wranglers there, I bet?... Indeed. To attempt infiltration or extraction would be suicide... No Caller has ever got in or out of the Leylands... He fell silent for a moment, lost in thought. Maybe I did... once... Though... I dont think I survived... Sonya, who was lying by the fire, casually swatted Lucian around the head with her large tail, snapping him out of his trance before he began to regale them with another one of his tales. Focus, Lucian. Lucian rubbed his head, conveying a hint of gratitude Ah... Yes, of course... Lets go over the brief. Lizzy rolled her beady eyes whilst Wyatt objected in the most civil manner he could conjure Again? Seriously? Youve told us four times. The fact Ive told you five times suggests you require another reminder, else you forget something. He cleared his throat, brushing a few melting snowflakes from his grey fur This is The Everlast Woods. Not Norvask, not Glascan. If youre captured by the law here, youll receive very little support. Leyborn here are feared, not respected... I want minimal, if not, no detection. This is a stealth op. Whilst trying not to stereotype, I must admit, the locals of this region are slightly more... He glanced to Wyatt Xenophobic... Wyatt pointed an accusing finger, glaring

You got no right to call me things I dont understand! I didnt come here to be insulted! Sonya and Blake sniggered, quietly, whilst Lizzy just palmed her own face. What Im saying, Master Rook, is that strangers arent necessarily welcome... Especially those that carry ivoryon weapons, bearing the mark of Glace. Lets just keep our arms sheathed and not turn any heads, understand? Wyatt and Lizzy both nodded. Good. Now our first objective is an echo thats lingering within a miners shack in the town of Forgepost. If Sonya and Blakes estimates are correct, weve landed not far from our destination. In fact, its possible that the settlement within visual range is the one we seek. I know Forgepost. Wyatt interrupted when he saw a chance Its a coalmine town... home to the biggest coalmine on the continent. Its got its own private militia to prevent a hostile takeover. Lucian nodded, slowly, once again returning to the window Do you have any influence there?... Not a shred. Then like I said, lets remain undetected if possible... my familiar will return shortly with an update on the location, and then well head out. Lizzy widened her eyes a little, while Wyatt simply let fly an outburst What?! Were doing this now? We havent slept for days! Every moment we spend resting is a moment we could devote to the preservation of our world. I apologise, but with the loss of another caller, we must increase individual work output... Were already behind schedule following your fortnight off... Let us use the cover of night and storm to complete this objective whilst we have the chance, and then we may use the following day for travel to the south... there are more pressing issues toward Sanctus... Wyatt fell silent. There was a logic in what the little vermus was saying, as irritating as it was. There was likely no use arguing, and this would hopefully only be a quick mission. ...Fine. I can... probably handle it... Of course you can, Master Rook. A Palecaller is a master of its own senses and body. If you dont wish to be tired, then simply make it so. Lucian smiled, as if this solution was somehow obvious Youll learn, in time. They sat in relative silence for a time, peering out of the windows every now and again as the snow rose quickly behind them. The fires of the distant settlement continued to burn brightly; a brilliant beacon in an ocean of darkness. Wyatt threw Lizzy a glance, wanting to say something, anything that could have pulled her from her depression, but no words came. She toyed with the fire, nudging it was her large, flat foot, staring into it, glumly. Quite suddenly, a transparent, vulpine face appeared through the wall of the shelter. Wyatt peered at this unexpected intruder, before making a rather obvious conclusion; Lucians familiar had returned. The zoec* padded in, tentatively, eyeing Wyatt with some sort of suspicion, before approaching Lucian. Maybe the familiar wasnt very good with new faces. Almost secretively, the animal leant in and began to speak in hushed, but not inaudible male voice I...I think thats Forgepost, sir. I found a sign which says as much, I did. The zoec nodded, about five times. He had a slight vermus accent, perhaps derived from the caller himself. He shot another distrustful glance Wyatts way. Wyatt responded with a raised eyebrow, which somehow caused the familiar to become even more cautious. *Zoec are similar to sledders but with distinctive differences. Zoec are six-legged burrowing vulpine mammals with pointed ears, long muzzles and brushy tails. They are white or red in colour.

He covered his head with his tail, as if trying to stop Rook from lip reading. Due to his transparent form, however, this had absolutely no effect. Would you like me to begin surveillance? I could locate the echo, I could. Lucian shook his head That wont be necessary. I accessed the reporters memories. Ill know the house when I see it. Predict militia patrol routes for me, if they exist, and find gaps to exploit. The zoec pawed his own face in a sort of broken salute Very good, sir. He chirped. He looked at Wyatt one final time, before dashing off, straight through the wall. The moment the zoec had vanished, Wyatt waved his hand after it, grouchily. What the farl was that about? Your familiar have a problem with me? Lucian checked his gear, inspecting his weapons and wrist-mounted equipment for a moment Fidge is just being cautious. I think hes just a little... excited... about your rather colourful history, Master Rook... Wyatt tugged at his own hair in frustration. As cryptic as this excuse had been, he got the gist of it. Are you serious?! Hes a farling spectral hound! What am I going to steal from him!? Lucian smiled innocently at Rooks irritated expression, before marching toward the door Come! Lets go. You too, Miss Forktongue! Lizzy sighed, clambering to her feet Sonya, Blake, well be back shortly. Keep yourselves warm, but if your position is compromised, disappear until our return, understand? The pteropine pair nodded Of course, sir. Sonya answered, before they both simultaneously said We are the night. Wyatt cracked up at this, having heard the starls impersonations dozens of times, but never having witnessed the source material personally. The wyte exchanged confused glances following Rooks laughter, but opened no inquiry as the three callers stepped out into the blizzard once again. It was fortunate the light of the town was present. In this darkness, it would have been easy to walk in circles without some form of guidance. The vicious winds were racing by, snatching their icy hands at Rooks sleeper hide cloak, often throwing him off balance. Still too fatigued to focus the ley, he ploughed his way through the snow with his legs alone. Lucian had to stop on multiple occasions to allow the others to catch up, but he remained patient, as usual. Wyatts carved path gave Lizzy a slightly easier route to follow, but even within the sheltered trench, she was still struggling against the wind. She looked even more exhausted than he did, although this was hardly a surprise. Shed likely been deprived of sleep before this mission even started. Feeling sympathetic, Rook stopped, kneeling down. He offered Lizzy a hand as she walked closer Come on. Ill give ya a lift. As he leant closer, Lizzy curved straight around him with nothing but a silent glare. Without hesitating, now ahead of Rook, she began to weakly shove at the snow herself, trying to carve a path of her own. Wyatt sighed, straightening up again. He overtook the little vermus with a single stride and resumed his trek, once again creating a channel for Lizzy to move down without extreme effort. As they proceeded, the forest pines of the Everlast Woods began to emerge through the gloom; like pointed, charcoal silhouettes on dark grey paper, flecked with dots of snowy white. Rook found himself glancing wearily to his coat. Hopefully there werent any sleepers nearby that wanted to take it back. They were at their prime at this time of year, and worryingly, one rarely saw them coming. He kept a wary eye on the woodlands edge in case one such creature should emerge. This recollection then chained to another; snappers, reptilian creatures that burrowed in the snow, waiting to crunch creatures that unknowingly stepped into their open jaws. Suddenly he became

much more aware of where he was placing his feet. Somehow, he almost regretted knowing what flora and fauna dwelled in his home province. Why was Glacenox so bitey? The fires of the mining town grew larger as the group approached, and urban features began to appear through the storm: Houses, forges, carts, tracks, tools and foundries. Even in the heart of Glacenox, the industrial procedures of this settlement were still ongoing. Darkening the skies even more than they were already, bleeding from the town and disappearing in the wind, was a stream of black, putrid, choking fumes. In addition to the constructions, some armed, masked individuals were huddled near the forges, trying to keep their body heat at safe levels while guarding the mine from unlikely threats. As Wyatt watched the militiamen from a safe distance, shrouded in shadow, he wondered to himself how much regret they felt for this rather bleak occupation. He internally questioned its necessity at all; large scale crime was very low during Glacenox as most bandit clans and organised criminal orders concentrated purely on survival rather than expanding territory. Perhaps they were defending from the wildlife as well? Lucian raised a closed fist, signalling for the other two to stop. They obeyed, crouching low to ensure they remained undetected. At this range and in this darkness, the chances were very slim. Following Lucians example, Wyatt pulled out his telescope hed last used when raiding the Pact caravan with Aris. The scope itself had been a gift from her in the first place, be it one pilfered from a travelling merchant. He glanced at the scope, sadly, before scraping a layer of frost from the glass lens and bringing the eyepiece up to his pupil. Through the whirling flakes and murk, Wyatt surveyed the area, and those that guarded it. All of them were armed with flintlock weaponry: Mostly pistols, but one of them, perched on a house rooftop, had a long range rifle, something Rook had only seen carried by expert sharpshooters. Master Rook, see the secluded cabin, beyond the central foundry, to the left...Theres a wheelbarrow by the door and broken window... Rook focused the lens on the scope, slowly following Lucians directions. Sure enough, he did spot a bungalow that matched Lucians description. I see it. My contact reported an echo within; a human foreman. Evidence indicates he was shot, through that very broken window... Of course, the window wasnt broken before the shot was fired. Wyatt lowered the eyeglass, frowning at Lucian Thanks for clarification?... Lets just do this so I can get some damn sleep... He started to walk away, but stopped grumpily when Lucian spoke. Patience. Lets see what Fidge has to say regarding defences... Wyatt turned, quickly, his tiredness getting the better of him. Screw Fidge. Hes an asshole! Both our familiars are assholes! Please keep your voice down, Master Rook. Lets not attract attention. Were standing in a blizzard! No one can hear us! Wyatt! Professional practice! You want me to be professional?! Wheres your best friend?! Ill threaten him with a sword! You were nine years old! You hadnt even met Vincent yet! You needed a mentor! Must we bring this up here?! No! No! Youre right! Lets bring up how you turned me against the girl I loved! You did not love Aris! I thought I did when I was drunk, once! Master Rook!... Wheres Elizabeth!?

Dont change the subject, you furry bundle of lies! No! Where IS Elizabeth?! Wyatt blinked, turning. Lucian was right, Lizzy had vanished, although not without a trace. A small trench through the snow led off towards Forgepost, making a beeline straight for the targeted cabin. ...I think shes gone! Wyatt yelled, dimly What? Shes wandered off! Think shes heading for the cabin! Typical! Very well! We shall proceed. Let it never be said that Lucian Fablesay is reserved in times of crisis! Wyatt had already began to follow Lizzys trail No ones saying that. Ah! But if you did, it would be very much like that time I was in Fort Brax... NO ONES SAYING THAT! The trail led around the settlement itself, giving the town centre a wide birth, as was to be expected. Steering clear of the flickering pools of light created by the various forges and fires, Wyatt and Lucian darted from cover to cover, concealing themselves in the shadows of buildings and behind heaps of shifted snow. After diving behind a pair of stone-filled barrels, Wyatt peered through the rubble within and scanned the area for threats. The guardsmen were mostly either stationary and bored out of their skulls or periodically popping over to places of warmth during patrols. The cabin was about twenty metres away, and the pair of them made out Lizzy stealthily shuffling through the snow toward the door. Oh dear... Lucian said, peering around the barrel. Wyatt followed his line of sight, spotting a single guard approaching the cabin and heading right for an unintentional interception of Lizzy. She remained blissfully unaware, carving her way toward the house, her small stature keeping her out of sight for a few more precious seconds. Do something...! Wyatt hissed at the senior caller, who seemed lost in consideration Hush. Im thinking. Think faster! Thats not helping, Master Rook! Oh for... When the militiaman was mere steps away from locating Lizzy, his shadow looming over her and coaxing her attention, Wyatt snatched a stone from the barrel and hurled it into the snow behind the encroacher. Upon hearing the muffled impact, the guard turned, raising a snowcaked eyebrow. Lizzy took the opportunity to skitter towards the cabin, push open the door and slink inside without a sound. Rook sighed with relief as the guard shrugged, gave up his investigation and continued on his patrol. Lucian then clicked his fingers Ive got it! Well...- He blinked, realising the situation had apparently resolved itself without his input Oh.... Good show... Wyatt rolled his eyes, mumbling irritably to himself and waiting for the guard to pass. He glanced toward the roof-based rifleman for a second time as well, checking the coast was clear, before preparing to advance. Fidge suddenly erupted from a pool of light a few metres before the group, and with a degree of urgency, started talking Sir! A single guard patrol goes right by the cabin youre currently approaching! Wyatt resisted the urge to yank at his own hair in frustration Screw you, Fidge! Report back faster next time! The zoec squeaked a little as Wyatt ran straight through him, rushing toward the cabin the moment he had an opening. Lucian followed, using the neatly concealing trench that Elizabeth had already created. Keeping his hood up and his coat closed,

Wyatt looked like part of the blizzard itself, mustering enough anger and concentration to carry himself across the snows crust. Perhaps there was an advantage to being grouchy after all; rage was his leys focal point. Charging to the cabins front door, he slammed into it, shoulder first, forcing the door to swing open. He rolled inside, dramatically, waiting for Lucians tail to cross the threshold before slamming the door closed again. The howling of the winds volume was immediately reduced, but the broken window ensured it remained perfectly audible. The cabin was dark and dank, with the familiar smell of stale death in the air. The small shafts of warm light clawing its way through the blizzard were struggling against the frosted glass, but the shattered opening granted passage to the smallest of beams that sat neatly in the rooms centre. The building wasnt dissimilar to Wyatts old house: It was essentially one large room with designated spaces for cooking, eating and sleeping. Granted, it seemed a little neater with genuine insulation and high value furniture, but it was the same sort of design. Some of the finer details were lost in the concealing shadows of the night, and currently, there seemed to be no sign of a spiritual presence anywhere. Lizzy was there, at least, standing a few feet away from the door, rubbing her sleepy, watery eyes with her furry palm, and letting her hand slide down her muzzle before dropping to her side. Lucian sent a disapproving glance her way, but evidently knew better than to argue with a mute. He marched by her, scoffing, while Lizzy nodded in Wyatts direction. It was a subtle sign of thanks, but it was all he needed. He returned the sentiment, quietly. Lucian strolled roughly into the cabins core, removing a callers torch from his satchel and loading it with a lumitek capsule. As Alistair had demonstrated months ago, he then gave it a brisk shake, shattering the glass divider between the chemicals and the oxygen within. The reaction unleashed a bright, graceful light, revealing an entire portion of the room and its contents. The light was focused through a glass lens, concentrated and funnelled. To prevent suspicion rising externally, Wyatt pulled off his sleeper hide coat and tossed it onto the broken windows curtain rail. With any luck, it would stop anyone being alerted to their supernatural activities. Lucian, with Lizzy at his side, began to rotate, passing a large pool of light over every nook and cranny the home had to offer. Where are you... Lucian whispered to himself, softly, continuing to turn. The torchlight passed over a few portraits and trophies mounted on a wall, some of which were ominously caked in a dark and dry sanguine mess. There was more of the frozen blood on the floorboards at their feet, but Lucian proceeded to revolve. The light next shone over a set of dining table and chairs joining with a kitchen. The pantry had been cleared out, and there were no signs of life, or indeed, unlife in sight. Turning further, Lucian shone the beam upon the bedroom area, focusing on the bed in particular. With the bed empty, Wyatt thought nothing of it, and waited for Lucian to move on, but he remained fixated upon it. Before he could question the motive behind this, Rook spotted something, writhing, unnaturally, beneath the bed itself, between the frame and the floor. Lizzy backed away, almost uncontrollably, whilst Lucian sustained concentration, unable to take his eyes off the shifting, prone form. A blood soaked, clawed hand quite suddenly lurched from the sheltered dark, slamming silently down onto the floor and digging in its slightly rotting fingers. Like something from a nightmare, the hideous aberration dragged itself into the light. Whilst it was clearly once human man, it had fallen a long way. Its eyes were missing, leaving only bleeding sockets. Its teeth and tongue were black or missing, often revealed as the creature gnashed its jaws, almost hungrily. It wore the tattered garments of a mine foreman, but covered in blood, the source of which was a large, gory bullet hole

right where the mans heart would once have beat. The spirit floated eerily up onto its feet, several of its joints cracking into place where theyd somehow been misaligned. It twitched, several times, violently, unsettlingly, disappearing and reappearing a few inches forward in the process, all the while keeping its eyeless stare fixed upon the callers. Wyatt fought to keep the nausea away. The fear helped tremendously. ...Lucian... Orders... Wyatt said, quietly, cautiously, keeping his voice as passive as possible to avoid enraging this thing that bled before him. ...You two... leave... Lucian slowly went for the devils door key on his belt Go back to Sonya and Blake... Ill deal with this... Neither Wyatt nor Lizzy moved ...Thats an order... Were a team, Lucian... let us help you... Lizzy nodded in agreement, although Lucian was far too busy facing off with the spirit to see. He reluctantly seemed to accept the offer. Whether it was through tactical consideration, blind panic or blunt necessity was unclear. Tell us what we need to do... Omens... The only way to get rid of them is to banish them through the door... Master Rook... focus on ethereal chains, Miss Forktongue and I will create the gateways... Rook nodded, determined. Ethereal chains was a tricky pale cast. It bound spirits in place, and could also be used to pull them around, granting further manipulation over them. Even so, Wyatt felt he could do it; even in this drained state. He had to, after all. This was life or death. Get ready... avoid its claws... Three... Two... Before Lucian could reach one, the omen quickly raised its deathly hand, pointing it towards the one and only light source in Lucians other hand. The bulb shattered and the lumitek particles dispersed in the cold air. Darkness once again flooded the cabin, and the callers were essentially blinded. FARL! Wyatt yelled, frantically and sightlessly casting in the vague direction the omen had last been seen. A few flashes of its razor sharp claws, followed by the distinctive sound of rending flesh followed, and Lucians silhouette went flying across the room, slamming against the houses door and slumping down, motionless. Even in the black, Wyatt couldnt help but see Lucians ivoryon key clatter just a few feet away from him. He was still contemplating claiming it when the spectral claws next came for him. Wyatt threw himself down, ducking as the bladed barbs sliced neatly where his throat had been not seconds before. Still unable to see the omen, however, he reacted far too late when he felt a cold hand close around his shoulder and hurl him a good five metres, straight into an empty bookcase. The wooden shelving unit collapsed on impact, the splintered shards cascading over his already pain-stricken body. Woozily looking up from the debris, Wyatt saw Lizzys shrouded figure, leaping from left to right in an attempt to evade a flurry of deadly attacks. Lucian was still lying still, his blood trickling into the cracks between the boards around him. A few bright lights shot out from Lizzys hand as she used the miniscule amount of light in the room to try and bind her target with the ley, but to no avail. She too was then scooped up like a tiny ragdoll and slammed against the back wall with potentially bone crushing force. With Elizabeth incapacitated, Wyatt stood by for the inevitable, staring up at the space before him, waiting for the fiend to reappear. Perhaps still perceiving him as a threat, however, the omen remained out of sight, but he heard it. He heard something chilling, something that hed never wanted to hear again Join the flock.

Without hesitation, Wyatt shut his eyes and raised his palm in the direction of the voice. His fingers tingled as the ley channelled through them, and he opened his eyes just in time to see the ethereal chains coil around his target. The links let out a heavenly glow, similar to the door itself, revealing the omen as it struggled against the bonds, furiously, gnashing and slashing in grotesque, inhuman ways. Quickly, Wyatt clambered from the wreckage of the bookshelf and crawled for Lucians key, snatching it up in his splinter-pierced hand. It sung its harmonic hymn as he turned and readied it, panting, and panic stricken. The omen broke free of its shackles very quickly, and the light hastily began to fade. It shot towards Rook at an impossible speed, grabbing his wrist and hurling the key across the room. It pulled him up like a puppet, reading its horrifying claws for the kill. Light suddenly flooded the room as a devils door burst open in the cabins centre. The brilliant white from within contrasted almost poetically with the inky darkness that seemed to emanate from the monstrous omen, even more so as chains of the Concierge were slung forth from within. The heavy binds coiled around the omen rapidly, and began to reel him in like a tenacious fish on a rod. With Wyatt still firmly in the spirits grip, however, he too found himself being unwillingly dragged to his doom. He hooked his fingers between the floorboards, yelling with dismay as the omens icy talons remained clung to his arm. The wooden board came loose, yanking the nails up with it, and Wyatt continued to slide toward the light. With a few more distressed yells, barely audible over the chiming of the door and snarling of the omen, Wyatt managed to raise his free hand toward his ghostly vice and let loose a few more destabilising pale casts. The pulses of energy collided with the omens bloodied form, and Wyatt felt his grip weaken. Inhaling, heavily, Wyatt placed all of his remaining energy into one final attack. The ley built in his hand, forming a silvery, flickering mass. With one final roar, Rook thrust his open palm forward, snapping away the spirits hand and blasting the omen back into the unknown realm. For a moment, when staring through the open door, Wyatt thought he saw a distorted grinning face staring back at him, before it slammed shut on its own accord. The door shattered and dissolved into darkness, leaving the three callers all lying on the floor and out for the count. Through his fuzzy vision, Rook made out Lizzy, waving, weakly, her ivoryon key in her paw. Perhaps now was a good time to sleep?... No. He couldnt. Lucian was wounded, possibly critically. There was no time for recess. Rook pushed himself to his feet, forcing a second wind. Lizzy was up by the time hed managed to stand, and was padding over, with some difficulty. The omen had hit her pretty hard. Fortunately, she just seemed dazed. The pair of them approached Lucian, who had fallen unconscious, perhaps due to shock. Three large gashes had been slashed into his chest, tearing through his raggedy little coat that he often wore. He was bleeding quite badly, and showing no signs of entering cryostasis. Lizzy knelt at his side, mustering enough strength to apply some icy bandages to Lucians wounds, just as Wyatt had done to his own on his last mission with Volke. With the wounds temporarily treated, Lizzy gave a nod to Wyatt, who scooped Lucian delicately into his arms. Theyd head back to camp and treat him properly there. Briefly holding the vermus in one hand, Rook went to the window and pulled his cloak back into his possession. Upon unveiling the window, he was met with the rather upsetting sight of the entire towns militia standing in wait for them. They must have heard the yells and seen the lights. Oh well, it was time to be diplomatic. Wrapping up Lucian in the cloak to shield him and his supernatural bandages from sight, Wyatt headed back to the door Weve got company. Let me do the talking... Lizzy, not unexpectedly, said nothing Thats good! Do that. He took in a breath, then pushed open the door.

He was greeted by the readying clicks of various firearms. The rifleman from the tavern roof was also present. The blizzard was still raging through the town, and if they had some headway, it wouldnt be hard to lose any pursuers. Bearing this in mind, Wyatt raised his free hand in submission, the other still holding onto the bundled Lucian. Evenin, folks. He said in the most diplomatic way he could. What are you doing in our foremans old cabin? One of the gunmen asked, possibly their leader. Pfft. We saw it was abandoned and we wanted some shelter from the storm. If you want to evict us, fine, well keep walking. We heard shouts... saw lights... What were you doing in there? Answer me! It was cold! We were trying to light a fire! I got frustrated, so I shouted a little. Like I said, if you want us to leave, well do so. We just cant afford a room in the tavern... ...Arent you cold?... One of the guards asked, cautiously. Wyatt raised his eyebrows to the man, tilting his head Whats that, bud? Arent you cold?... Youre not shivering... Wyatt took a few moments to answer, his mouth just left open but with no words coming out. ...Course Im cold. Im... normal... A few memories came crashing into Wyatts mind, fired straight from his childhood. For a moment, he felt his eyes glazing over as he was lost in recollection. ...Either way, youre trespassing. Its a harsh storm... So well let you off. Come on, well get you and your vermus friend a room at the lodge over yonder... Doubt youd wanna sleep in there, anyway... I imagine you saw the blood. Wyatt nodded Yeaaah. We saw blood alright... The guardsmen began to move away, clearly expecting the others to follow Man was shot dead in there a few months back. Was a misfire from one of our own men... terrible accident, it was... The man looked over his shoulder to see that Wyatt and Lizzy had vanished into the night, without a trace; not even footsteps. He blinked, eyeing his men one at a time as they each acknowledged this same abnormality. Theyd just disappeared. Like ghosts. Back at the icy shelter, Sonya and Blake were lying by the crackling fire. They were both exhausted from the long flight, but were still keeping themselves engaged with a game. They were playing wild card, manipulating the tiny playing cards with their spindly hands on the frames of their wings. After another hand had been won, Sonya yawned, sprawling onto the grass. Her furry, eyeless face was soon swatted by Blake Stop that. He said in a stern voice. Whaaat? Sonya groaned, sleepily You cant sleep. Why not? Were nocturnal. Its wrong. Sonya scowled, covering her face with her tail I want to try new things. How can we be the night if were snoozing? I can be the night part-time! At that moment, Wyatt and Lizzy burst through the door, covered from head to toe in snowy particles. Unwrapping Lucian and placing him on the ground near the fire, Lizzy immediately began to assess the damage more carefully, unpacking a small medical kit from

one of her satchels. The wyte both let out a few sonar screeches, mapping out the scene in their minds. They both saw the wounds without even approaching. Damn it! What happened? Blake asked, stomping over. Those look like claw marks! It was an omen. Wyatt answered I think Lucians intel was a little out of date... He crouched at Lizzys side, looking the old caller over with her. It went without saying that if anyone was well versed in vermus anatomy, it would be Elizabeth. ...Will he make it?... Lizzy gave no response, verbally or physically. Little by little, she began to thaw out the frozen sutures, replacing them with real ones, closing the slashes permanently. Through inspection, it didnt appear the slashes went deep enough to injure any internal organs. As Wyatt had already been informed before; infection simply wasnt a risk with the callers, as their lack of body heat made it somewhat inhospitable for foreign contaminants. Bearing this in mind, surely he could recover, in time. Around ten minutes passed, in which Lizzy silently stitched up each of the lacerations. Her small hands and roguish precision was useful; it meant Lucian didnt have to have his chest shaved in order to properly treat the cuts. He began to stir once the final wound had been successfully closed, and Lizzy had applied a new icy bandage to totally minimise bleeding. Opening his dark, foggy eyes, Lucian saw Wyatt and Lizzy looming over him. They pair of them both smiled with relief. Gh... Lucian began, groggily ...The omen?... We took care of it. Doored and dusted. Wyatt answered. Lucian chuckled, wincing as a pain no doubt shot through his chest Heh... Ggh... Poor reconnaissance... that was no... echo... He flinched with every other word. No... use like this... Its a flesh wound, you old fool! Wyatt exclaimed, resisting the urge to clap the vermus on the shoulder. Its a hindrance... I find it difficult to cast when in pain...Perhaps it would be best if you proceed without me...There are more assignments in the south... Theres a scroll in my bag with the details... No ones goin anywhere til weve had some rest. Wyatt quickly countered with. He wouldnt back down this time. The fatigue was crippling. ...Very well... Perhaps I could... Perhaps I could use... he trailed off midsentence, his head thudding back onto the grass. His breathing remained steady and normal, and Lizzy was clearly happy to leave his side. Deploying blankets and bedrolls, Rook and Lizzy tucked themselves in. They even did the same of Lucian, giving him something more comfortable to lie on than the deceased grass. The crackling of the slowly dying fire and the howling of the blizzard winds made for the perfect white noise that Rook was used to in his old family home when it was time to sleep. The soundproof, shielded bedrooms of Palthgar sometimes made him feel a little homesick. Still though, he found himself lying awake, the voice of the omen cycling through his head. Join the flock... join the flock... Hed heard it before, but had long since abandoned concerns of it ever coming back to haunt him... literally. He tossed and turned, restlessly, thinking back to when hed lied to Saar about ever hearing the voice, about ever losing control of his own body following the necroley cast. In his paranoia, he started to see shapes in the smoke and against the frosted glass, terrifying visages and outstretching hands. Hed long since accepted that one day hed encounter an omen, but only now did he truly understand what made steadfast warriors like Volke waver. Some hours ticked by, giving him more time to mull over the horrors hed witnessed. He felt the responsibility for Anyas death creep back in, something hed tried to banish over the past ten or so

days. If hed just kept his mouth shut... She never needed to know... But he hadnt considered for a moment what the knowledge could have made her do. With the fear and guilt growing within him, Wyatt did what he always did as a child, even when he knew there was a man standing in the corner of his bedroom. He shut his eyes tight and visualised an idealistic existence; a world with no annual struggle for survival and no invisible intruders. A world where thievery was less of a necessity and more of a casual hobby, and a world where nobles simply didnt exist, the snobby, irritating, pompous megalomaniacs. Great. Now he was angry. Huffing a little at the injustices of the rich, Wyatt rolled onto his side toward Lizzy, surprised to find she was staring right at him. Why do they have breasts?... she inquired, innocently. She spoke quietly, so as not to wake the others (even the wyte were asleep at this point). Wyatt blinked ...Uh...? The female divines... I mean theyre lizards, right? Reptiles? ....Yeeeaaaaah? So why do they have mammary glands? Wyatt just remained silent, confused. Part of him was happy that Elizabeth had found her voice again, and part of him wanted to grouchily order her silence. You know? Tits? Uh... Knockers. Boobs. Bosoms. Chesticles. Seriously, take whatever synonym you want. I... I dont want a synonanymnym... Answer the question! Wyatt flailed a little beneath his blanket. He snapped back at Lizzy, quietly. I dont farlin know, do I?! Maybe they wantedem! S weird if you ask me, Wyattquish. Its almost like their sexual dimorphisms is actually designed to be read by species other than their own! Or maybe they used to be something else, you know? What if theyre mutants? What if theyre farling mutants?! Or maybe theyre a special kind of reptile and they benefit from the nutrients and antibodies of colostrum? Wyatt just covered his head, grumbling Words! Words! Words! Lizzy giggled, quietly You dont like the taste of your medicine, huh? Confused, Rook uncovered his face and peered at Lizzy. I saw you thrashing about... Figured Id take your mind off it... She smiled, closing her eyes Youre welcome... Wyatts confusion shifted to a sort of pained gratitude Thanks... but... Lizzy... Ive not heard a word from you in... weeks... Lizzy didnt respond, feigning sleep, perhaps. Rook shook his head, dragging himself and his bedroll closer to the vermus Oh no. You aint doing this again. Youre gonna look me in the eye and were gonna talk about this. Lizzy rolled onto her side, her back now facing Rook ...Just leave it, Rook... No. Im not letting you become a creep like Vagrant. Next youll be changin your name to... I dunno... Vagabond or... Homeless Girl. Lizzy trembled with poorly suppressed laughter at this, flopping onto her back and gazing up at the icy ceiling of the igloo. ...I just... She began, clearly finding difficulty in expressing her emotions ...I dunno... Rook... I just miss her... But its more than that... you know? Its not just that shes gone... its how she left... It all happened to fast... She turned her head, looking at Rook ...I blamed you, for a while, you know... Think Im over that... Rook averted his gaze, sighing

...Yeah... Maybe youre ahead of me, then... He chuckled quietly, in an attempt to haul himself from the depression Heh... well, at least you were close before the end... Remember when she shot you? Twice? Farl, you were so pissed... When we first met you two, it was chaos. Lizzy turned her head away again, staring at the chimney and the smoke that fled through it from the hungry fire below. I dont know if we were ever... friends... I guess its the rivalry that... made us close, you know? Ive tried to switch off that part of my mind... find a me that can move on... but every single one I try misses her. She shrugged Maybe one day, we would have been inseparable. I... I hate that Ill never know... Wyatt shuffled closer still, his curiosity getting the better of him. Is that really possible, though?... Just switchin to a you that can shrug things like this off? I can switch to different me for almost anything... Its like changing an outfit... Lucian says Im... timelost... that Im here, but so are other Lizzys... from different timelines, with different skills, different upbringings... different personalities... sometimes even different memories... ...Sounds useful... Right? Wyatt asked. He immediately regretted it, watching as Lizzys expression sunk into sadness almost instantly Its horrible... Rook... I... I dont even know which me is me... Sometimes I cant even control it... it just happens and... She trailed off, but Wyatt knew what she meant. Hed witnessed it, when shed killed a man before his eyes when given nothing but a name. ...Like that man?... When you made your familiar?... Lizzy languidly nodded, exhaling shakily. ...Who was he?... What did he do?... Again, Lizzy dropped her gaze down to Wyatt. Her eyes were shinier than usual Thats the thing... Rook... I... I dont know... I dont know who he was... or what he did and... but one of me did, and I just... I...I... Before she could finish, Wyatt lashed his hands out, grabbed hold of Lizzy and pulled her into a warm embrace. She didnt resist, quivering ever so slightly in Rooks arms as he held her close. The conversation ended there, and the two of them used this scarce display of friendly intimacy to drift off to sleep, inwardly debating, perhaps, about who needed it more.

Chapter Twenty Five Theres No Place Like...

Two Hundred and Eighty Nine Days Ago So what is fear, my son? Let's look at this from a literal point of view. Fear is your mind's natural reaction to being presented with a threat, or danger. It's designed to be useful in aspects of survival, particularly in non-sapient species, such as jurnice or hopflops. As we clamber on into the more intelligent yields of nature, however, fear starts to become more obsolete. It, to this day, remains a heavily undesirable trait, forcing one's self to commit to or outright avoid activities that would otherwise be adverse or normal. Fear maintains its purpose, but for species that no longer need it. Our brains simply aren't capable of filtering it out. It's an evolutionary fault; reducing us to mere animals when presented with something our mind may find naturally frightening. In even more severe cases, we can be born and raised with irrational fears, pointlessly being unable to approach small, harmless creatures such as arachnids. Unlike many beasts of the wilderness, however, we have the opportunity to combat fear. We have the sense to know what is a threat, and what is just another day on Rime. There are many aspects of life that will always bring dread. To not fear one's own demise, for example, is to relinquish something very core to your own survival. After all, one thing that almost every sentient creature has in common is a fear of death... But as a Palecaller, you must always be at peace with its arrival, no matter how grim or untimely it may be. What you will learn to rely on is duty and faith. An omen does not fear. An omen is, in every sense of the word, an aspect of fear. It radiates terror, like light from a flame, but never seems to fall prey to it. An omen commands horror and abhorrence. Whether it came to be this way through arduous evolution, careful design or spontaneity is something were unsure of, but one thing is certain; its techniques are flawless. Your standard omen will only reach into the physical realm when absolutely necessary. Theyre able to detect a threat, and they assault it head-on. Without a Palecaller present, an omen will spend its time hunting the living innocents in the local area. They prowl on their victims, using methods designed to shock and scare, appearing as distorted visages through windows, in reflections, in nightmares. Whilst these manoeuvres can sometimes be enough to send the weak willed or weak hearted into an early grave, it is not normally their fear mongering that brings about the end. Alas, an omen possesses a power which we may never understand; the power to directly affect the fate of another. An omen can literally change a mans future for the worst, clipping it to an abrupt end through illness, accident or unfortunate coincidence. Whilst we cant use the omens ace in the hole, the Palecallers have learnt a thing or two about fear throughout the centuries. It would be foolish to not admire the talents of your greatest foes. Why not use them to your advantage? You know how people tick, Wyatt. Youve always been good at assessing psychology. You have the analytical mind and imagination to fabricate situations of dire panic, and when deployed correctly, you may find fear is a weapon not to be taken lightly. Before you can fully utilise this primal force, however, you must learn to accept it as nothing other than such. It is as much a tool as the weapons on your belt, and the moment you overcome your own fears...is the moment youre able to fully exploit anothers.

Present Day It was a pleasant and refreshing haze that caught Wyatt as he opened his eyes. After so many hours of sleep deprivation, he felt practically renewed. Lying on his side, the events of the previous night game back to him in the form of various aches and stings. His body was filled with splinters from the furniture hed been thrown through, and dotted here and there with painful bruises. It took him a moment to notice the vermus hed essentially been cuddling throughout the night had vanished from sight. He was alerted to her presence by the sounds of blades sliding into leather sheathes. Lizzy was already up and standing nearby, slotting throwing knives into a sort of bandolier. The morning sunlight in the slightly prismatic icy shelter split into faded but beautiful rainbow hues, some of which were glinting in Lizzys beady dark eyes. Wyatt felt his heart drop as he looked upon Elizabeth, but somehow didnt recognise her. She looked somehow more dominant and aggressive, perhaps for the sake of taking the role of group leader now that Lucian was incapacitated. Lucian was awake, which was a good sign. He seemed stable, although movement was clearly still taxing. Wyatt spent no more time than was needed. He quickly rose from his bedroll, snatching up his daggers and gun-belt and gearing up for the journey ahead. Sonya and Blake were asleep, and likely would be until much later tonight. Theyd look after Lucian whilst he and Lizzy dealt with the rest of the assignments. Once Rook was all ready, finalising preparations by strapping a suppressor onto his wrist, Lucian gave almost motherly words of advice and direction Gh... Now remember, you two... Were needed in Fordale. Wyatt felt a jolt in his stomach at this news, but he hid it well: Fordale... that was so close to home... No echoes, but a pair of spirits want us to take care of some unfinished business... Lucian continued A man named Augustus wants us to reinforce his family cottage to protect from Glacenox wildlife. Theres also a female vermus activist who wants a ley-risen friend freed from slavery... The pair of them were killed by sleepers this year, and they never got around to completing these duties... The usual deal... He winced, before holding up the scroll hed mentioned the previous night Ngh... Heres the details, Master Rook, Miss Elizabeth... He held out the paper. Rook stretched out a hand to take it, but it was militantly snatched from Lucians paw by Lizzy during her silent retreat. Lucian sighed as she left the shelter, slightly sorrowfully watching her distorted silhouette move on the other side of the slightly transparent walls. I fear shell never forgive us... he said, solemnly, slowly looking Wyatts way. Rook folded his arms, an eyebrow raised And you aint worried about the same for me? Lucian didnt answer immediately, but after a moment, he did attempt to clamber to his feet. Slightly instinctively, Wyatt moved forward and disallowed this Stay down, ya old fool... Youre hurt. Master Rook... Lucian obeyed, reluctantly, although the agony evident was not leaving him much choice Please... Dont forsake us... If not for your own sake, if not for ours... then for the worlds... We wont survive another war... You still think Im capable of being Farl?... Because an old wall said so? Lucian didnt answer, but his eyes screamed yes. Wyatt, despite his irritation, attempted to offer some form of reassurance Listen, you moth-eaten rat. Yeah, Im pissed at you lot, some, but for cryin out loud, Im not gonna turn into a mass murderer. I dont give a flyin crap who or what predicted I would go off on a monster tantrum. Its not gonna happen. It was hard to tell whether or not his impassioned speech had actually convinced the old caller, but at the very least, he pretended it did.

...Very well... And didnt I tell you to call me Wyatt? Jeez... Wyatt stomped toward the door. Somehow the wyte had slept through his little rant Well be back in a day or so. I promise. He added. He almost believed himself entirely, but even if he wasnt to become a serial killer, perhaps he could at least distant himself from this withdrawn and secretive existence. He missed life, and lately, everything just felt like it was about death... it was not a desirable occupation, to say the least. Remember, Wyatt... Rook looked over his shoulder at Lucian as he brought a hand to his wounded chest Its a stealth mission... Keep a low profile... Wyatt nodded, grabbing hold of his scarf and pulling it up over his mouth and nose. Roger that. Well have a new story for your list when we return. He said, in a slightly muffled voice. Lucian winced, before giving a firm, confident nod. Looking forward to it... brother. Ouch. Right in the heartstrings. Shame it was a blatant attempt at emotional manipulation to reduce his chances of separation. He must have thought Rook was an amateur. Wyatt stooped low and exited the shelter without another word. The wind caught Wyatts scarf the moment he was within its reach, dragging it out before him like a fluffy tongue. The snowstorm from the previous night had mostly subsided, but plenty of flakes still hung in the air. The dim morning light beaming upon the blanket of white below forced Wyatts eyelids into a squint. Although slightly blinded, Wyatt made out Elizabeths brown fur across the crisp, cool surface. Shed already made some ground without him, meaning that, annoying, he had to break into a jog in order to catch up. The area was clear, although that would become harder to distinguish once they moved back into the forest. The shelter was brilliantly camouflaged, and almost disappeared from view after Rook had moved a mere fifty metres away. It was unlikely that anyone would find it. Heading this far from the forest, road or settlements during Glacenox would have been a colossal waste of time and resources. Lizzy was walking at a brisk pace, but she only had little legs, therefore, it wasnt too tricky for Wyatt to catch up. Soon, he was walking at her side, watching the forest with caution as the pair of them approached it. You ok? He asked, a little breathlessly. Im fine. She answered, irritably. She was in the process of applying some dark ink to her fur; a habit Rook had witnessed before. The patterns and images she painted were usually a good indication of who she was being. To this day, Wyatt wasnt sure if she did this for everyone elses benefit, or perhaps even her own. You sure? Just drop it, Rook. Lets get this over with. Without really thinking, Wyatt took offence Listen, princess. I thought we were ok. We gonna have problems? Because I just want this mission to go smooth... If you want things to go smoothly, then you should keep your mouth shut! About everything! She marched on ahead, while Wyatt stopped in his tracks, mouth ajar. It took him a moment to compose himself, and then he pursued Cmon, Lizzy, this isnt you. He frowned Well... Its not a good you... Just stop talking... Im not... Im not in the mood... You want us to just remain silent? You realise its gonna take at least eight hours to walk to Fordale? Please dont make this awkward.

Ive got nothing to say to you... Lizzy said, applying the dark make-up around her eyes, almost like war paint. She sped up a little, almost breaking into a jog just to distant herself from Rook. He ceased his harassment, allowing her the space she apparently, inexplicably needed. He was so sure this wouldnt have happened. Shed displayed all the right signs of acceptance, the final stage of grief, but now it seemed she was regressing back into anger again. Perhaps some of her minds were progressing faster than others... It must have been awful. She was locked in a cycle and there was nothing he could do to help. They walked by the first of the forest edges trees, stepping into the frosty dappled shadows, the temperature dropping even more. Nearly every tree was still green and very much alive, consisting mostly of tenacious, adapted pines and oaks. It was nothing unfamiliar, of course. Wyatt had lived in these woods all his life. This meant that he was fully aware of the threats that roamed within: sleepers, vizeers, snappers and highwaymen, to name a few. With his six months of training and new abilities, they certainly werent as scary anymore, but no amount of ley and ivoryon would save a human or vermus from a sleeper ambush. Well, maybe excessive amounts would do something. During Glacenox, everything was more desperate. For those families that couldnt or wouldnt adequately prepare during the warmer months, things became dire very quickly. Food becomes more scarce, and firewood even more so, meaning a lot of individuals take it into their own hands to gather lumber from their own surroundings. For those too lazy to do that, theyd. This meant the sleepers and other monsters had a steady source of food. Needless to say, the creatures had become very good at catching those that roamed alone. Their survival practically depended on it. With even this basic survival school knowledge, Wyatt knew it was important to remain alert, as clearly Elizabeth wouldnt be much use here. In her blatant frustration, she was struggling to focus even upon the snow walking cast, her little paws occasionally punching straight through the icy crust. He kept an eye out for the tell-tale signs of hostile life; scratches on tree trunks, wide foot-prints, breath in the form of vapour, and signs of recent kills. When they didnt have sapients to chew on, sleepers typically hunted jurnice and sometimes even hibernating quish. It was a messy ordeal, and the blood often froze into the snow to create distinctive, gruesome landmarks. The vizeers had their own unique way of marking their territory, which, after two hours of almost muted travel, they began to encounter. Large mounds of snow piled into a slightly humanoid shape dotted the landscape. They were built closer and closer together, creating a funnel formation. Essentially, panicking animals would view these creations as predators and avoid them, running straight into a hastily constructed snowy dead-end. Once theyd been cornered, the vizeer moves in for the kill, like a spider catching a fly. There was almost certainly one nearby. Fortunately, despite their slight anatomical similarity to sleepers, they were nowhere near as aggressive to sapient beings as their ferocious cousins. Even so, a vermus like Lizzy would have made for a decent and seemingly easy meal. It was time to redirect her, even if she hated him for it. Lizzy. Keep away from the mounds. He warned. Why? Monsters make them. Its like a trap. Theyre going to trap me in a crap snowman? Please... Vizzies are a lot bigger than you. Ive heard of vermus havin close calls withem before. So come on, well go around. We dont need to go around! Itll just take longer. Lets just keep going south.

If we keep going south, well walk right through it. This is my home. I know how to survive here and that aint how to survive! Were Palecallers! We dont need to be afraid of the farling troll! We can freeze it and stab it and then it is a dead troll! Lizzy went to march straight on through the crude construction, but she was scooped off her feet by Wyatt and carried like a wriggling handbag. NO! PUT ME DOWN! The farl is wrong with you? Cut it out and listen to me! She continued to struggle I just want to get the damn mission done! I want to go home! You want to be alone, but you cant, Princess. I need you with me! All of you! I know we got past this already... Try to remember! Eventually, Lizzy gave up, falling a little limp in Wyatts grip. She hung her head with a long sighs Mhm... Ok.. Put me down... Well go around... Wyatt gently lowered Lizzy back to the ground when he detected no further signs of resistance. She remained motionless for a moment, before brashly and unexpectedly dashing off past the first row of vizeer structures. Wyatts jaw dropped. Shed done it again. Son of a bitch! He yelled, smashing through the fragile constructs and chasing after the vermus, his eyes darting nervously from left to right. Lizzy rushed through the well-beaten snowy path. Large clawed footprints and ungulate hoof markings littered the frequently used hunting ground. Shed dropped to all fours and increased her speed dramatically, bounding with a series of graceful arcs. Rook sprinted after her, unholstering his gun and briefly checking its chamber. The vizeer could have been anywhere, watching from any angle. They blended into their environment perfectly. This was beyond idiotic. What the hell was she playing at? COME ON! Yelled Elizabeth to her surroundings, taunting whatever would-be attacker within audio range. IM RIGHT HERE! She ran straight across the funnel-like shape, heading for the southmost edge. Before she could reach it, however, one of the snowy mounds exploded open, a whitefurred creature leaping out from within. It was gangly and wiry but with visibly powerful muscles in its elongated arms and enough sharp claws and fangs to rival a trophy cabinet. Its slightly stretched, ape-like face distorted into a hideous roar as it slammed into the snow mere inches before the vermus, who had skidded to a halt. Lizzy snatched a fan of knives from her belt, tossing them straight into the vizeers chest as if it were a dart board. The monster let out a bellowing, agonised roar, but she only fuelled its adrenaline. Lashing out with inhuman speed, the monster prepared for a lethal retaliation. Wyatt, without even a thought, raised his flintlock and fired before hed even steadied his hand. Whether improved through training, or sheer luck, however, his aim was flawless. The bullet sliced clean through the trolls skull, a cloud of red mist staining the very models it had created. It disappeared into the deep layer of snow, transforming it from paper white to a gory sanguine. Even though this pointless, easily avoidable encounter ended in victory, Wyatt could tell that this still wouldnt be enough. Lizzy rounded on him, next, since there were no more creatures to prod. You think youre so great, but youre not, Rook! Stop assuming I need you! Im not your farling damsel! I dont need your advice, I dont need your eyes, and I dont need your protection! Rook quickly reloaded in case this particular vizeer was part of a family. As he did so, he queried What is wrong with you?! I aint ever seen you like this! Youre acting like... Wyatt trailed off, but Lizzy pushed him for an answer Like what?! ...Well... Like Anya...

Lizzy fell silent. Her shoulder slumped and her little rounded ears sunk, just a tad. Without another word, she recovered her ivoryon throwing knives from their kills torso. Wyatt finished filling the gun with powder and dropped a new shot into the loading chamber. He marched straight by Lizzy, sensing that their conversation was once again over Come on... he said, in passing. The vermus made no further objections, practically dragging herself in Rooks wake. he said, in passing. The vermus made no further objections, practically dragging herself in Rooks wake. It took her some time to voice whatever it was that was haunting her, although it didnt take a genius to work it out Were the contingency plans... Rook... Wyatt frowned, looking over his shoulder at the sulking vermus. She was carving a trench angrily into the snow with her slender tail as she walked Thats what our watchers called us... the contingency initiates... and two of them are dead. So what? Were still left. But dont you get it? Me, Darius, Gabrielle... Were all just here to fill the gaps if the important Callers dont make it! She kicked at the snow, flicking it into the air They need you more than they need us... I dont want to be useless. You wont be useless. Wyatt began Theres no point acting like Anya because you think they need her more. Besides, this sounds more like a coping mechanism than anything. Youre just trying to... simulate her bein here so you feel less alone. You gotta have more confidence in yourself, Princess... and in me. Well be enough. That, I promise. Dont get in my head, Rook... Therere too many people in there already. Im sure some of them think this is a good idea and most think its a farling terrible one... But I guess theres no way you can just stick with one of the ones I like, right? Not that I know of... At least were all aware of it... Which one do you like?... Claws one is alright. Also the one that calls me Wyattquish. I can tolerate that. Farl, even the Drelalti one works... although youre a manipulative bitch as that one... Lizzy snorted, grumpily, cleaning her bloodied daggers against some small mounds of snow as she passed them. Wyattquish... So damn stupid... Its kinda cute, I guess. Its stupid... Come on. Lizzy walked by and took the lead, sheathing the blades with a single, clarion note. Rook walked alongside, sensing the majority of the tension dissolving. Clearly hed been able to extrapolate something from the countless sessions of psychotherapy hed endured in his childhood and adolescence. The whole process had been one of the factors that had really made him interested in the concept of psychology, granted hed used his developed skills in slightly nefarious ways: Scams, cons, mark analysis, scaremongering, to name a few. The pair pressed on through the off-road terrain, clambering over roots and ducking under low branches. They passed countless footprints and trails left by the indigenous wildlife, forcing Rook to maintain a nervous vigilance, as Lizzy was far too distracted with her inner turmoil. After nearly suffering a heart-attack for what felt like the hundredth time as yet more loose snow fell from the canopy above, the vague signs of civilisation began to appear before Rook. Tree stumps from lumbering operations, gridded snow-shoe footprints and dug out pathways were a few solid indications. They became more frequent the further south they moved, until eventually, they found themselves standing on a slightly familiar road. The two of them pulled the cloaks tighter, making sure not to expose any of their almost mythical weapons. The road hadn't been adequately treated for Glacenox travel, still covered with a thick layer of snow, but even then, it was unrecognisably a man-made structure. It was the cleared linear area that gave it away, and stepping from the

frightening labyrinth of trees was certainly a relief. Enemies would be much easier to spot with these surroundings. Let's head back into the forest. Lizzy suggested, moving to simply cross the road and re-enter the maze of static pines and gnashing teeth. Or we could not? Wyatt opposed Let's just keep a low profile and head south. This road'll take us to Fordale eventually. A pair of mysterious hooded travellers walking across the snow in the height of The Cold Dark... Rook, even a child could tell we're up to something. Rook sighed, brushing some of the snow from his slightly exposed, greying fringe. She had a point. Alright. You got me there... how about we walk beside the thing, then? And stay in cover? Fine by me. Don't know what you're so afraid of, though. We already killed one troll. I was raised to be afraid of these woods. Besides, vizeers are the nice ones. Let's not piss off a sleeper. Lizzy glanced over her shoulder at Rook's serious and glum expression. His mind strayed back to the horrifying sequence that the phantom claiming it was The Pale itself had shown him. ...Must have lost someone to them, right? Lizzy asked, sharply analysing his faintly vacant condition. Wyatt gave a short nod, heading toward the pines once again Figures everyone who lives here has... I knew a good dozen or so folks over the years who fell prey to'em. They're a lot better at this than we are... He glanced down to his feet, and his absence of prints Well... I suppose we're catching up. They walked beyond the frosted trunks of the first few trees, before starting to move parallel to the road itself, keeping an ear out for signs of both sentient and sapient life. And your friend? The one you mentioned to Glace? Aston. Do you think... They did it? To make you leave?... Wyatt hesitated, stepping over a tenacious crimberry bush that had survived the extremely temperatures. I don't know. If Aston was still around... Safe to say that I'd have been reluctant to walk... if I didn't think Aris had betrayed me... or that Vince was taken to the Leylands... He kicked a small mound of snow obstructing his path, scattering it into glittering dust It was a tough life, but it worked for me... it was mine... When I asked, at least, I couldn't smell a lie. You can't smell a lie with me... Wyatt grunted, peering down at Lizzy Mhm. That's what worries me. On they walked, one of them keeping an eye on the forest, the other on the road. At one point, a sleigh pulled by sledders* came speeding by, a single man at the reins. His commanding shouts faded into the distance as quickly as they'd arrived, and the callers were free to exit the cover which they'd thrown themselves into. He'd looked harmless enough, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Someone died here. Lizzy suddenly muttered with a small grimace. Rook snorted, glancing around for the signs he'd apparently missed. Well that's unsettlin', some. What makes you say that? He asked when nothing became apparent via sensory observation. The Pale holds onto memories of the dead... some of them hang here. It's awkward to keep them out. Hunting accident, by the looks of it... ... A friend of his hit him *Sledders are six legged lupine creatures native to the continent of Glascan. They're hectopods, which means they have a higher surface area, giving them greater mobility over snow. Their high level of intellect also makes them ideal for taming, and to this day, they're used as both a means of transportation and faithful companionship.

when he was tying his shoelaces... guess he looked like a jurnice. She watched Wyatt's slightly stunned expression. ...What? That's what Lucian's been teaching me in our sessions... It's how he knows so much, and remembers so much. Still, Wyatt looked blank ...The stories he shares? The impossible ones?... They're impossible because it wasn't him who experienced them. It was someone else... but the memory bled into his own and became part of them... He remembers it as if it were him there. ...So will you end up like him?... Wyatt asked, tentatively. Having another Lucian around would be a nightmare. I doubt it... I'm not as uh... enthusiastic about it. He took in as much as he could. I suppose I know the consequences of that... She scratched her muzzle in thought Although, part of me is already there... Far too many memories from other lives I don't really recall living... I guess the main difference is that I don't voice them. Wyatt stopped quite suddenly as the trees ended with a crossroads. A sign stood at the fourpronged path, its directions obscured from sight by a layer of snow and frost. Remaining safely nestled amongst the trees, Lizzy raised her paw and brushed the ice away with a simple cast. The sign pointed toward Lakebank, Fordale, Outstretch and Fern. Lets keeping heading south. Lizzy said, gesturing to the sign and taking a few steps toward the required road. She stopped as Wyatt dropped to his knees and placed a hand on her shoulder Wait. He ordered, urgently. Lizzy turned with a frown What? You can see the last moments of someone who died?... Mhm. Well sometimes I can see more than that. Lizzy... what if you can see what happened to Aston? We can investigate ourselves and find out what actually went down. We dont have to listen to the Callers or to that creepy faceless bastard... We can get our own answers! Elizabeth shuffled on the spot, uncomfortable with the prospect I dont know... Why? What are you afraid of? ...That they did it... that theyre lying. She waved her paw, dismissively Whats to say he even knew what happened? Aston had a whole hunting squad with him. One of them must have seen something. Come on... Itll take a few hours! We dont have to go far off track... Theres nothin to lose and maybe we can get some... I dunno... reassurance, right? Id rather know if they screwed us than not know if they didnt... Something. Lizzy stared at the sign, fidgeting with a few knives on her bandolier. After a few moments, she seemed to come decide on a course of action. Rather than vocalising an answer, she turned on her heal, and started to pad off toward the West. Toward Fern. Subtly punching the air in celebration of his persuasion, Rook followed the vermus. It was time to go home. Still sticking just off the road, but keeping it in sight, Wyatt and Lizzy continued. The weather remained hospitable and clear, but by the time they reached outskirts of Fern, it was already early evening and the sun was starting to fall. They received no resistance, and fortunately, the only wildlife they encountered consisted of shy herbivores and small, harmless birds. Jurnice fawns born in Glacenox had a thick, immobilising coat of fluffy, snow-textured fur to act as the perfect camouflage in the season. The mothers would be aggressive if they approached, but the babies were so hard to spot that they could have accidently trod on one without noticing. Fortunately, all of the jurnice they passed kept their distance. Trees became scarcer as they approached the settlement; the need for lumber conveyed through dozens of jagged stumps. Smoke rose above the forest,

marking the location of at least thirty homes; thirty fires preserving the lives of potentially thirty families. It was somewhat bleak how dependent the people were on the primal elements in the more rural areas of the world. Strange the way a little multiculturalism had warped Rooks perspective of survival necessities. After the almost lavish conditions of Palthgar, he could barely even imagine returning to the bare essentials... although hed happily do it in a heartbeat if the callers killed Aston. He had to draw a line somewhere, right? Do you know where he died? Lizzy asked as their only cover began to fade in favour of deforested plains and industrial outposts, such as lumber mills. Uh... He hadnt considered that. He tried to recall the details of the day Aston had died ...Well... I think the Pact guards that found him were the ones I we diverted from caravan defence. We send those lot south of the trade route east of Fern... near The Quirky Yerk. Lizzy frowned at the nickname. Wyatt rolled his eyes Its a yerk tree. It has a weird... face... its quirky... Its a quirky yerk. Lizzy raised her eyebrows, nodding with a patronising expression. Uh huh. Sure. Come on, well go around the town. Wyatt stared into the quiet streets of his place of birth. Hed not left everything the way he wanted... You... go ahead. Im going to... have a look around. Rook... You shouldnt. Remember what they told us? About severing relationships...? What if it gets them in trouble? You know... with the wranglers. Its been six months... Besides, Ill keep a low profile and wont say anything secret. I just want a bit of... I dunno... closure. This sounds like a bad idea. Im ok finding out what happened to your friend... but I dont want to put us at risk... We dont get much law enforcement round these parts, especially not in Glacenox. Trust me, itll be fine. Might be one wrangler near the docs place but Ill steer clear of that. Lizzy tapped her wide paw against the now, impatiently, glancing at the village before her. Ngh... Give me your weapons. What? If its so safe, give me your weapons. Im evading the village. If youre walking in then I dont think waving ivoryon around is going to do you any favours. Wyatt rolled his eyes, detaching his weapon belt and tossing it to Lizzy. It was almost as big as she was, and she buckled a little under the weight, but remained mostly steady. Here. I didnt really needem for the majority of time in Fern, and when I did, it was cause I was playing the bad guy. Lizzy slung the belt over her shoulder, the daggers and pistol singing for a split second You played the bad guy?... What did you do?... Petty theft, mostly. A few heists... burglaries... maybe a few counts of disturbing the peace and assault... punched a few nobles... Why, is that a problem? Lizzy gave Wyatt an odd look. It was a look he was familiar with, as most individuals he wasnt acquainted with but knew of his reputation: it was a look of disappointed cocktailed with disgust. She was at least trying to suppress it. What you giving me those eyes for? I did what I did to survive... besides, they made this life for me. Blame them. And youre not exactly any more honest than I am... Farl, your court name celebrates your ability to tell lies. Lizzys expression softened a little, but the damage was already done. ...Mhm. Oh come on, Princess... I dont need this from you...

Its fine, Rook... I know youre not that person anymore. You know, its just... learning something new. You seriously telling me that none of your personalities breaks the law? Well... if Lucians theory is right, I have a personality which mass murders children with nothing but a sharpened spoon. Theres a Lizzy for everything... I just control it, for the most part... Dont let the bad ones come out... Makes sense... So... which is the real one? Which life did you actually live?... Who were your real parents? Lizzy groaned, waving Wyatt away Lets not talk about that. Do what you need to and then meet me at your yerk tree... Dont take more than twenty minutes, alright?... Then well go and find out what happened together... Wyatt gave a firm nod. The pair of them parted, Lizzy moving off into the depths of the bordering forest, and Wyatt trotting confidently toward Ferns centre, scarf concealing his mouth and chin. Fern in Glacenox; whilst it usually brought a depressing angst to Wyatt, he felt somehow relieved to see it. Some years had seen harsh rationing due to lack of food and resources, and on others, bandits and bloodmoon hunters had threatened the settlements entire existence. After Lakesides destruction to the north, it was alleviating to see that life still seemed present here. The flickering hearth-fire light danced on the other side of frosted, glass windows. Smoke rose above the village like wispy grey pillars, and the footprints below were definitely fresh. Whilst no one was currently on the streets, there was evidently nothing to fear. This was just a normal day on Rime. Wyatt walked onwards, passing a group of houses. He knew the residents of nearly every one. Hed stolen from most of them at some point. He ignored these, however, heading for a particular cottage a stones throw from the blacksmith. Passing the Saberls Stare, he heard the sounds of voices within; merry, energetic conversations reached his ears. On a normal day, hed have been a part of that. He blocked it out. His past life could only haunt him so much. It had to be taken in moderation. A few curtains parted in some homes, some villagers peering out directly at him. He made sure he wasnt walking across the snow like a ghost, trudging on through it like any old man would. It had been shovelled aside on the majority of the towns paths, but even then, it still came up to his shins. The blacksmith was locking up his shop and heading home. He gave Wyatt a slight nod as he turned away from his bolted door and briskly hurried away, pulling his hide coat tight around himself. Wyatt let out a sigh of relief. The smith must have not recognised him. His target in sight, Wyatt approached the beaten, slightly mouldy door of a dilapidated shack. A light was burning within, visible through the cracks between the wooden boards. It must have been freezing inside... hadnt she ever heard of basic insulation? Wyatt took a deep breath, before knocking upon the door and taking a step back. He tried to look casual, glancing around, idly, carelessly, the butterflies in his stomach opposing these attempts. The door swung open, and Wyatt whirled around to face it. That wasnt casual at all... She hadnt changed at all. He took comfort in this as he looked upon her red hair, her grumpy scowl which was rapidly shifting to an expression of pure shock, her clenched fist gracefully soaring towards his face... Wait. What? Wyatt hit the snowy ground as the punch struck his right cheek. He yelled in surprise What in the Frozen Hells are you playin at?! Aris proceeded to kick him whilst he was down You quish-humping son of a bitch!

Ow! CUT IT OUT! Rook didnt have time to react as Aris leant down, grabbed him by the lapels of his coat and threw him into her own house. She eyed her surroundings, before slamming the door shut, snow sliding from the fragile roof. Wyatt got to his feet, his body now aching. Aris, calm the farl down! Youre meant to be dead! I saw the Nox note myself! You tried to escape with MY payload and you died in the process! Wyatt held up his hands, defensibly before him as Aris furiously approached Wait! Wait! Its not what you think! I didnt steal your carriage! Someone else did! They found Grieves body in the forest. Rapier wound. You and Vince killed him, then you ran for the hills! That cart had enough to bail you out, Rook. Why would you murder a man in favour of paying him what you farling owe!? Vince killed him because he shot me! I nearly died! Someone stole the carriage so when I took Grieves there, he tried to kill me. Vince saved me... Wyatt... Astons dead, Vince is gone and until two minutes ago, I thought you were dead too. You left me alone. If youd just told me you were going, Id... Maybe Id have come with you. You couldnt have... You cant. That aint how it works. Sorry, Aris, but I had to go alone... You went with Vince! Aris snapped, still advancing. Wyatt pressed himself back against the draughty wall. No! I didnt. Vince was arrested by the wranglers... they thought he was a leyborn... same with me. Thats why I ran. Aris stopped, her rage partially subsiding. She remained still a few feet away from Rook, and dropped her gaze to the floor Damnit... Then why are you back?... Wyatt also watched the floor, anxiously I just wanted to check out a few things and... let you know what happened. You cant tell any folks I was here... you know, to stay safe. Figured I owed you some explanation. He looked up Hope you dont think you were better off not knowing... or this was a bit of a mistake. Tell me where youre going. I wont tell a soul. Some new friends of mine said wranglers have ways of makin folk talk. Best keep you as unaware as possible. Aris grimaced, glaring at nothing in particular ...You know I hate cryptics... Yeah... I know. I hate it too, but I dont want you or my new friends getting hurt. Aris smirked, taking a few steps back and giving Rook some room When did you get so caring? Anyway, you cant exactly waltz on out of here, Rook. Its the middle of Glacenox. Youll freeze to death. You can crash here. Rook tilted his head from side to side, before shrugging Naaaah. Ill be ok. Youll be ok? Are you farling serious? How did you even get here? Rook didnt answer. He spent a moment trying to fabricate a lie, but hesitated when he saw Ariss jaw drop Youre a leyborn. What? No I aint. Youre a farling leyborn! Im not a leyborn! Youre one of those cold leyborn, so you can wander about like normal even when its cold! Thats why you ran, aint it?! I bet Grieves shot you and it came out! Wyatt made a few wild gestures Keep ya damn voice down! What if some asshat walks by and hears ya?! Ariss shock became confliction. ...Leyborn are bad news.

Thats what I thought too, but turns out theyre fine. Trust me, Aris. Im no threat. Wranglers spread crap about leyborn. Its mostly just lies and paranoia... Come on. Im not fibbin. You can tell, right? Aris brushed her fringe aside, quietly sighing and watching Rook with a sort of sad curiosity. ..Sure. So... Will I ever see you again? Maybe... I dunno. Hey, if this gig Ive got right now doesnt work out, you wanna run away together? Aris blinked, before shrugging Sure. Why not. Not like I got anything to stay here for anymore... She watched Wyatt as he took a few pouches from his coat pocket Whatcha doing? Giving you whats owed. Here. He passed Aris a number of bulging coin bags, which she quickly opened and examined the contents of. ...Holy crap, Rook... there must be three thousand sancs in these... She looked up, wide-eyed, meeting Rooks eyes I get a lot of money with my new job... supposed to use it for gear maintenance and bribes but I figure you deserve something. Should be enough to get you a better place than this... Maybe you could move to Lakebank... you know, somewhere safer. Aris closed up the pouches, tucking them into a nearby bag. She paused, before pulling Wyatt into an unexpected hug. Rook returned the embrace, smiling softly Appreciated... But dont change too much, Rook... Aris said, quietly I kinda like the idiot I grew up with. Wyatt chuckled, breaking away from the hug. The brief moment of affection soon degraded into an awkward silence as the pair of them recomposed themselves, pulling the conversation back to a track they were both familiar with. Yeah, dont mention it. Rook answered, dismissively Maybe spend it on a mirror so you can know what ugly looks like. Sure. Itll look nice here, on my wall, right next to the definition of stupid. Aris jabbed a thumb towards a photograph that was framed on the left wall: It displayed her, Rook, Aston and Vince stood together in a little group. They all looked slightly bored. The experimental sparklight camera took a long time to capture/expose images, so they just had to stand there for several minutes before the lens. It wasnt the greatest forty sancs theyd ever spent, but it served its purpose in this particular come back. Wyatt snorted, heading back towards the door and pulling it open ...Rook. Wyatt sighed. She was going to make this difficult, wasnt she? ...Dont go being a prick now... Oh. Never mind. Til next time, Aris... Go and see your mother, Rook. Shes barely left her house since you... died. Rook nodded, pulling the door closed with a wink I intend to. He had one more destination, and he had enough time to swing by. He should be able to reach Lizzy in the time shed laid out for him. He headed on out of Fern towards the outskirts. This was a path walked mostly by him. It felt like a lot longer than just six months. He found himself staring at the ground at his feet as he walked. Leylines were right below him, hiding. Theyd been hiding there since before his birth, waiting. Waiting to make him. How many of these points of convergence existed? Had another Palecaller been born here in the centuries theyd existed? Lost in thought for a moment, he didnt realise something important about his mothers house as he strolled toward it, surrounded by pines: The door was ajar. Rook snapped back to his senses, his eyes narrowing. Why would anyone ever leave the front door open during Glacenox? Had it been forced? A sleeper was more than capable of smashing a wooden door clean off its hinges, but there

was little to no damage inflicted upon the opening. Worriedly, he flexed his fingers, a cold tingling running through them as he readied the ley. Without any further hesitation, he stepped into the familiar building. It was warm inside, with the light of a fire emanating from the living room at the end of the small entry corridor. He could hear voices, one of them his mothers. He dropped his guard a little. One of the guests must have left the door open. This made things awkward... Hed have to wait for her friends to leave. He spun on his heels, heading back towards the open door, when he heard a scream: His mothers scream. Instinctively and without thought, Rook whirled around and sprinted for the living room, the corridor freezing around him as he prepared an attack. Wyatt smashed through the slightly open door, assessing the situation. His mother was stood upon a chair, a noose around her neck. She was not alone. Standing beside Tess, her boot upon the chair, threatening to push it away, was another, horribly familiar woman: Cassidy Scorne; leader of The Wranglers. Tess widened her teary eyes ...W...Wyatt?! She started struggling against the bonds on her arms Wyatt! RUN! Rook was frozen in horror at the encounter, unable to swiftly react. Ma... Scorne spoke to some unseen assailants Drug him. A sharp pain instantaneously pierced Rooks shoulder, and his vision almost immediately started to blur. He quickly raised his palm toward Scorne with murderous intent, but nothing happened. He was quite suddenly wrestled to the floor by two additional wranglers that had been standing either side of the door hed come through. Still, he tried to channel the ley, any ley. Hed even settle for the necroley. Something. Anything! Why wouldnt it work?! Youre a liar, Ms. Rook. Scorne said, glancing to Tess who was hysterically screaming He looks plenty alive to me... Get off him! You bitch! He doesnt deserve this! Hes a leyborn, Ms. Rook. He deserves it, wholesomely... Wyatts vision was betraying him. His mind felt like it was shutting down. Even talking was almost impossible. He let out a stream of slurred words, but nothing comprehendible. Bet youre wondering why you cant freeze us, eh, snowman? Leyborn cant do jack when sedated... Scorne mockingly smirked, turning back towards Wyatts mother Yall know that obstructing the detention of a leyborn is a serious crime... Hes not a leyborn! Please! Just let him go. Voices started to echo in Wyatts mind, becoming hard to focus upon. His struggling became weaker, the combination of both wranglers full bodyweight keeping him totally suppressed. Cassidy Scorne picked up her hat from Tesss nearby hat stand, dropping it atop her braided hair and returning her boot to the chair Thatll be all, Ms. Rook. She looked towards her men, before nodding with and throwing a few disciplined hand gestures Lets clean up here. She said, before violently kicking the chair away. Tess dropped, her screams warping into choking gasps. She dangled, helplessly, thrashing her legs in vain, and all Wyatt could do was watch. ...Ma... He managed to whisper, his eyes welling up. ...M...Ma... His struggling grew. No! NO! He felt his anger rising. The room started to grow darker, colder. The flames in the hearth vanished with a hiss. Scorne marched over, shaking her head. I dont think so. She simply said, before slamming her heel down onto Wyatts temple. His focus failed, and he was thrown into black... His own pleas repeated in his mind for only him and his nightmares to hear.