Arrival at Arimal

The outside world lay buried beneath a thick, relentless snowstorm, where nature's fury showed no mercy. Four figures materialized in the midst of this wintry tempest, their struggle palpable against the raging gale. At the forefront rode a man of formidable stature, commanding even in the saddle. His mount, a towering, obsidian stallion, loomed so large that an average person would struggle to see over its broad back. Close behind, a slight figure clung to the saddle of a graceful mare, appearing delicate and fragile. Tied behind the saddle was a bundle of supplies, and a shaggy pack horse's lead was securely fastened to the saddle. The dwindling provisions reflected the sheer hardship of their journey.

Abruptly, the black stallion came to a halt, narrowly avoiding a collision with a stone wall concealed by the blinding snow. The leader pointed toward the wall, attempting to communicate over the tempest's deafening roar. They followed the wall's edge until they stumbled upon a gate, where they urgently tried to announce their presence. At last, a frozen and groggy stable foreman emerged, struggling to maintain his grip on the door, and he motioned for the small party to enter.

Guiding them through the snow-covered courtyard to the safety of the stables, the stable foreman sealed the door, shutting out the raging storm. A profound hush descended upon the stable, broken only by the soft sounds of the horses shifting within their stalls. Now, the stable foreman turned to examine the unexpected guests who had sought refuge from the unforgiving elements. Much of their features remained hidden, shrouded beneath deep cloaks with hoods pulled low.

One of them appeared to be a formidable swordsman, judging by the equipment and weaponry. The other, initially resembling a petite woman or perhaps a child, hade a humanshaped bundle tied to the saddle of her white mare. The farmhand, roused from his slumber in the hayloft, had become alert. It was as though a signal had been given, prompting the strangers to step forward and reveal their purpose. In an almost catlike movement, the male stranger stepped forward. At once, his gaze narrowed, expecting a threat. What was it lashed behind the saddle of the white mare?

"Thank you for opening your door on this treacherous night. We seek shelter for the night and a healer for my wife – if that is possible, for it is a matter of urgency," the man implored, his gaze gravely directed at the stable foreman. As he mentioned his wife, he gestured toward the tightly bound bundle. A sigh of relief escaped the stable foreman, realizing that they had not brought a lifeless body with them.

The stable boy, still groggy from sleep, crawled to the edge and peered down at the commotion in the stable. Rubbing his eyes, he struggled to make sense of the scene below. The three strangers had brought the chill from the storm into the stable, making him shiver. The foreman noticed him and signaled for him to come down. Awkwardly, he dressed himself and descended from the loft.

As the stable foreman got closer to the horses, a faint movement rouse from the bundled figure on the mare, accompanied by a feeble cry. His concern turned into action, and he took a step forward. "We'd better help her down then," he declared, moving to unbuckle the horse.

The man in the cloak lifted his injured wife with care, turning his attention to the child. "Come, Tinde, and we shall ensure your mother receives the care she needs." Turning to the stable foreman, he added, "Please, look after our horses. They are dear to us and have had a tough journey. I must rush inside with her. Wich way to the house?"

"We are right across the courtyard from the castle entrance. The stable hand will show you the way. I'll tend to the horses."

Within the castle, a sense of urgency prevailed as they saw that the woman was in great trouble. The lady of the house descended the stairs, and saw what was going on so she was leaving no room for formalities.

The man in the cloak wasted no time, swiftly requesting a bed and a healer for his wife. The lady of the house pointed upstairs and instructed a housemaid to summon Master Mathias, the castle's healer. She then hurried after the stranger, who ascended the stairs with determined strides.

"The door on the far right! I'll be right with you," her voice echoed through the dimly lit hallway. Once inside the stranger carefully laid the burden on the bed and began the task of unwinding blankets and layers of clothing. As the fabric unfolded, a woman of extraordinary beauty emerged. Silver and gold intertwined in her cascading hair. Her face, though clouded with pain, displayed no signs of stress. Her blue eyes was dulled by suffering but still held calm and knowledge. Behind the veil of anguish in her gaze, a profound wisdom could be sensed.

In the presence of this ailing woman, the lady of the house momentarily faltered. Her initial astonishment yielded to compassion and urgency. Not only could she discern the pain etched in the woman's eyes, but also the love that radiated from the woman towards her companions. When the woman shifted her gaze toward the dark figure beside her, the lady noticed that he still remained cloaked, while the young girl had shed her robe and approached the bed.

The girl bore a striking resemblance to her mother, their shared features unmistakable. Yet, the warmth of copper replaced the mother's pale skin, and vibrant emerald eyes replaced the icy blue of the older woman. Their facial features mirrored each other, but the girl's dark curls, adorned with golden highlights, flowed down her back.

Master Mathias, the castle's healer, entered the room in a hurry, his arms laden with an array of medicinal supplies.

"What's wrong with her?" he asked, focusing his attention on the man in the cloak.

"She has an ugly wound on her right shoulder. I believe it's poisoned," came the reply from within the shadows.

The woman's shoulder was bared for examination, revealing a wound unlike any Mathias had ever encountered. There was no blood within the injury, only a deep, gray cavity. The tissue surrounding the wound had withered and stiffened, as if the grayness was spreading. The tissue looked not only dead but transformed into stone.

From the shadows, the voice continued, "She was hit by a thorn from the tail of a stone lizard. I removed it as swiftly as possible."

"Remarkable! Stone lizards are thought to be... I mean, they exist in..." Mathias began, his voice tinged with astonishment.

"Yes, they exist, but that is not the issue at hand. We must remove all infected tissue without delay, before it spreads any further," the voice from the shadows emphasized.

The woman, her voice trembling, whispered, "Kito, I fear it's already too late." She turned to the mistress of the house and continued, "I sense the goodness within your heart. I beg for you to take care of my daughter. Feel free to decline, but I can sence you’re longing for children, and I know you grieve that your husband didn't grant you any children before he passed away. I believe this could bring joy to both of you."

Stunned, the lady stammered, "How can you know... I..."

"She often perceives what remains hidden in the depths of a person's soul. If this is her wish, I agree," the man said, his tone resolute. "My mission could be long and perilous, and this may be the best course of action for Tinde."

"I... Yes, I'd love to try," the lady of the house replied, her heart touched by the request.

"I would like you to honor a few requests to prepare her for her future. It may be a matter of life or death for her later on. I hope you can agree to these conditions?" the man in the cloak continued.

"Indeed, please, share your wishes," she responded, her concern deepening.

"She must receive training in combat, hunting, and horsemanship from your most capable instructors, regardless of her gender – even if it don´t align with your customs here. And if Master Mathias is willing to continue her healing training, she should not be considered a novice."

"Kito, it's time to reveal the truth about who we are," the woman declared. As the man was casting aside his cloak and stepping into the light, evoking startled gasps from those present.

"Do not be alarmed. I bear no ill will. I merely want you to understand what awaits you," he explained. The man revealed himself as a night-man, his eyes gleaming yellow, pointed ears, and shadowy features. His dark hair merged seamlessly with the shadows, almost rendering him one with the darkness. Despite his unsettling appearance, his eyes conveyed nothing but kindness and love for those he held dear.

"As you can see, I don´t look human and therefore I am unable to raise her and provide her with a conventional upbringing. She would be hunted because of my race. My mission cannot be postponed and carries significant risks. I ask you to care for her, but I will return for her when she has matured and is old enough to cope with her destiny. She knows how to find me if necessary before that. I may attempt to visit, but it must be under the cover of darkness. I trust you understand the reasons..."

In an instant, a gasp emanated from the bed, and their attention shifted towards it. They witnessed the grayness spreading across the entirety of the right arm and parts of the chest. The woman's breaths grew shallow and strained.

In the night-man's eyes, a solitary tear shimmered. "Tinde knows what to do," he uttered through clenched jaws. He approached his daughter, planting a heartfelt kiss on her brow before tightening his cloak around himself. He blended seamlessly with the shadows and, in an instant, vanished. No one glimpsed him or his stallion thereafter.

Not long after her father vanished, her mother asked for a quiet moment with Tinde. Summing up the last of her strength, the frail womanlooked deep into her daughters eyes. Tinde felt a rush of emotions but couldn't look away. Then, her mother took a piece of jewelry off her neck and quietly handed it to Tinde. She held her daughter's hand for a few extra moments while passing it over. The pendant was a peculiarly shaped crystal on a gold chain. It still held warmth from her mother's body, and she put it around her neck, letting the crystal rest near her heart beneath her clothes. It brought her some comfort to have this piece of her mother so close. After sharing a meaningful look, her mother gently closed her eyes, never to open them again.

Upon returning after a brief absence, they discovered that the mother's body had also disappeared. In the depths of the girl's eyes, one could read wisdom that should be far beyond the grasp of a mere twelve-year-old. The glimpse into the girl's soul was but a fleeting moment, and she almost doubted her perception, for when she looked at the girl again, all one could see was a beautiful, sorrowful child with sad eyes.

Marianne, the Lady of Castle Arimal, draped her arm around the girl's shoulders and said, "Come with me. I'll show you to your room and help you settle in. In due time, we'll become better acquainted, but for now, please tell me your name, and if I may bring you something to eat."

”I’m famished. Anything will do, thank you," Tinde replied, her words trembling with the weight of losing both her parents on the same night.