Chapter 1

The day had passed faster than Krarshe had anticipated when he set out from Remonnet. He took a sip from his waterskin as he rested on the roadside and looked back north. The city walls were a dot on the edge of vision at the end of what seemed like an endless grassy field. A brisk Harvest wind blew, rustling the remaining leaves on the trees just to the south of him: the home of his destination, Lycia's mother and, hopefully, his new magic teacher. According to the passersby he encountered at least.

He'd hoped to have been there by now, but additional preparations after leaving The Easy Lute were slow. His old waterskin stank; he was certain the stale water inside had something growing in it. The merchant had also convinced him to buy a knife. Krarshe wasn't sure what he'd need one for, but the merchant insisted that it could come in handy for a multitude of things. The idea of walking around with a concealed knife like some sort of assassin appealed to his youthful side more than he cared to admit, so it was all the convincing he needed. All in all, he didn't exit the city walls until midday, and Valenfort was a fair distance away.

Did Lycia really walk all this way every time? he wondered. He slipped his shoe off and emptied a few rocks from it. The sun was now well on its way to the horizon. This trek was taking much longer than he anticipated, exacerbated by his walking speed being significantly slower than his usual means of travel.

As he massaged his battered foot, he considered his plan again. Leaving behind his friends - Tibault, Bri, Na'kika and the rest of the staff of the inn - felt strange, he'd grown so accustomed to seeing them daily that not seeing them now made him feel out of place. He quickly dismissed it as just being nervous about a change in his routine. Changing your routine was a good thing, according to his do'mro, but it was still the biggest change since leaving home. Or felt like it at least. Besides, he needed to pursue this new teacher. What's more, he could visit them whenever he wanted if he really felt lonely.

Would be nice if I could rest a bit more, but I don't want to be wandering a forest in the dark. He gave his sole one last rub before putting the shoe back on. Oh. Better fitting shoes would have been nice too... He sighed at this thought as he got back on his feet.

The wind picked up again, causing the forest ahead of him to roar, the yellow and orange leaves swaying. A few broke loose and were carried into the sky. The imposing forest heaved as though a giant beast sleeping. He hesitated for just a moment before shaking his head. "There's nothing to fear here. I'm probably scarier than anything I'd encounter anyway," he said, laughing to himself. His thoughts drifted to Lycia and her mother the first time they came to the store. His smile faded. "Mmm. Well. Let's get going." Who am I even talking to? At least as a merchant, I had my horse as an excuse. He sighed again as he entered the forest.

The hard, uneven dirt road carved a path through the trees, winding further and deeper into the heart of the forest. Despite the time of year, the foliage was still enough to block out much of the light, save for a few slivers that cut through the boughs. It was quiet, with the occasional rustling of leaves in the breeze. Enough so that the rare squirrel or rabbit were enough to make Krarshe jump.

After some time, he could make out a clearing ahead. He breathed a sigh of relief and said, "Thankfully it wasn't that far. I was... getting..." Stepping out into the clearing, he saw a small cliff, no higher than the trees themselves. The grey stone stood as a wall before him. It wasn't the wall that surprised him as he looked up, though. Atop this cliff was a structure, or what was left of one. The stack of coarse stone blocks sat there, assembled into a now-crumbling fort. There was one large tower at the edge of the cliff, overlooking the forest.

Krarshe gawked at it in awe and curiosity. A small fortress in the middle of the forest seemed out of place and he couldn't help but wonder why it was here. As he thought about it, his eyes drifted back to the ground. "Oh, there's the road," he said, noticing another road at the other side of the clearing. He looked back to the imposing ruins. I really want to take a closer look, but later. Now isn't the time. With a final glance back, he continued his journey.

It was twilight by the time Krarshe arrived at the edge of the village, the last vestiges of sunlight falling upon the simple wooden buildings that comprised Lycia's hometown. A few people were lighting large lanterns hanging beside building entrances, others were lighting the few lamp posts scattered sparsely through the village center.

A lone guardsman yawned as he leaned against the watch house, all while keeping his eyes on the young elf stranger. He made no move but kept his eyes fixed on Krarshe as he slowly walked into the village, one hand casually scratching his red beard while the other rested tellingly on his sword hilt, his leather-gloved fingers wrapping around the pommel.

"Phew, made it before nightfall," Krarshe said as he glanced toward the guardsman. The guardsman gave a slight, polite smile and nod, but didn't ease his posture at all. Krarshe laughed nervously. Warm welcome. He pressed on, trying to seem inconspicuous.

Krarshe felt a shift in the air, a tingle rippling across his body as he walked past the watch house. He turned around, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. The same dirt path, the same guardsman, the same forest. Confused, he dismissed it as his imagination and continued.

There was a faint, rhythmic metallic clanging in the distance and the faint sounds of chatter throughout. Krarshe had been to smaller villages before as a merchant, but this was perhaps the smallest. Or maybe his extended stay in Remonnet twisted his idea of what 'normal' was for a town. It didn't take more than a minute for him to notice what wasn't normal: all the looks he was receiving. Everyone he passed by turned toward him. What expression they were making was unknown, as he didn't get more than a glimpse from the corner of his eye, but he could tell.

This is... kind of unnerving... he thought, pulling his hood down more as he tried to hide his nervousness. Then he stopped. I don't know which house is Lycia's. Krun, what a mistake. He hung his head and sighed. How do I even breach the subject with all these-

"'kay, ya louts! Kitchen's open!" shouted an imposing woman as she burst out of the building just a step behind Krarshe. "Oh, sorry sir, didn't see ya there. Oh, ya're... I don't recognize ya."

Krarshe calmed down from the shock. "Yeah, I'm from out of town. I just arrived."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Ya just arrived? It's awfully late for travel, especially in the forest, no?"

"I hadn't intended it. Just fell behind schedule."

"Well, tavern's open! We got-"

"Oh, no, sorry. I'm actually looking for someone. And truth be told, I'm... not quite certain where to find them."

She arched an eyebrow again.

"I was going to ask someone, but they seem suspicious of me at the moment."

The woman stared down at him blankly for a moment before bursting into laughter. "For good reason! A man braves the Forest of Vale at twilight, hiding his face in a hood no less!" She calmed down and wiped a tear from her eye. "I'm sorry, it was just- Oh, yes, we're open, go on in," she said to a pair of men with a wave. She continued, "We barely see any visitors, let alone ones that act as mysteriously as ya. I suspect they feared ya'd ask for warm hearth."

Krarshe thought on it for a moment. "They feared I was the Wanderer? Thought he was just part of a song."

She smiled. "Ya're from a big city, aren't ya? City folk always dismiss the old legends."

"Besides, doesn't he approach travellers?"

"Can't be too careful with strangers." She laughed again.

"Fair enough." He pulled his hood off. "Well, this stranger means no harm."

"An elf? One more rarity to add to the list."

"I hope that's not a problem," Krarshe said as he stepped aside for more patrons to enter the tavern.

"Oh, not at all. In fact, there's a pair of ya living in this village."

"Where?!" The woman recoiled at Krarshe's excitement. "Ahem, I mean, they're actually the ones I'm looking for."

She composed herself. "Ya just keep adding to that list of oddities, don't ya? Well... I suppose I can tell ya. Don't think ya'll be causing any problems for them, not that I'd expect ya to be able to." She stepped out into the road a bit, gesturing for him to follow. "Just follow the road that a-way, turn left at the smithy and keep going. They'll be the last house ya find."

Krarshe smiled. "Thank you, I'd be lost without your help."

"Just pay it back with a few drinks here later." She laughed again, waving a farewell as she returned to the tavern. Krarshe noticed her stop and talk with one of the patrons as they entered. He pointed in Krarshe's direction discreetly, followed by her shaking her head, then more gestures, then laughing.

"Guess my attempts at being unassuming had the adverse effect," Krarshe said with a laugh. "I'll have to visit there later. But first..." Krarshe steeled himself. He was almost at his destination. His training would soon begin anew.

* * *

The first moon was rising by the time Krarshe arrived at Lycia's home, a simple cottage near the treeline. A steady, even light emanated from the couple of windows facing the road. An old wooden fence encircled the property; a few parts lay broken but still in their formation, damaged by time. He noticed a few unrecognizable symbols carved into the vertical posts of the fence.

Krarshe took a moment to puzzle over them, still hesitant to approach the home, but finally took a deep breath and made for the door. The sensation he felt upon reaching the village rippled along his skin again as he crossed over the threshold, but he paid it no mind. He was solely focused on the task at hand and the pounding of his heart in his chest. This has to be the right house, right? Maybe I should come back tomorrow. Take some time to be sure. It would be super awkward to-

The door opened, the bright light from inside spilling out into the dusk. "... Karshe?" Krarshe's eyes took a moment to adjust to the sudden change, eventually able to make out Lycia's astonished face. "Karshe, what are you doing here?" she asked hurriedly again, stepping out into the night and closing the door behind her.

"Oh, Lycia. I guess this your home, huh?" Krarshe asked, feigning ignorance. His heart still pounded, perhaps harder than before he got to the door.

Lycia's confusion was evident on her face. "I- Y-yeah... Karshe, how did you-" She shook her head. "Wh-what brings you here? At this hour...?"

Krarshe bit his lower lip and tried to think of how to explain. I guess being upfront about it. "I- Well, I didn't expect it to take this long to get here, so I apologize for my late arrival." He studied her face. It remained unchanged, so he continued, "I... was... actually... I was wondering if I could... umm... talk to your mother."

"... What?"

"You see, I just left the academy and-"

"Lycia, who was it?" The mature elven woman Krarshe had encountered in the store cycles ago opened the door. "Oh, who is this?"

"Umm, this is-"

Krarshe interjected with a deep bow and said, "I am Krarshe, a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

She gave a nod in response. "Taliarrah." Taliarrah looked over at Lycia, who shrank back embarrassed, and turned back to Krarshe. "Well, Krarshe, it's nice to meet you, but it's getting a bit late to be talking with my daughter, so-"

"Actually... I was hoping to speak with you."

Taliarrah cocked her head. "With me?"

Krarshe nodded. "You see, I heard about you from your daughter at the academy."

"Academy? But she hasn't- Oh! I thought you looked familiar. You're that boy, from the Remonnet Academy."

"Yes, that was me. In the store." Krarshe cleared his throat, more comfortable now. "You see, your daughter and I were... comparing our training. It occurred to me the academy was failing me in my education." Taliarrah's face was unchanging, listening to him silently, as though assessing his words. Krarshe's confidence was quickly waning. "I- I've come... here... in hopes of receiving..."

"Training?" she finished.

"Yes. Proper training. Unlike that so-called academy." Krarshe looked over at Lycia. "From a real teacher, like your daughter has."

Lycia turned toward the yard, avoiding both Krarshe's and her mother's gazes. She tucked the blonde braid behind her ear.

"I see...," Taliarrah said finally. "Are you friends with my daughter?"

Krarshe could see Lycia jump out of the corner of his eye. "I like to think so," he replied. He had no basis for this answer, but it couldn't be too far off and would likely help his chances.

She smiled at her daughter. "Hmm..." She studied Krarshe, looking him up and down.

After a moment, Krarshe noticed her pupils dilate nearly imperceptibly. Her brow twitched. She pursed her lips as she nodded slowly. There was a shift in her posture so subtle that Krarshe almost missed it.

Taliarrah breathed deeply and said the word Krarshe hadn't anticipated. "No."