Cover artwork by @clya_lyren
Story written by “Jungle”

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Traveling by horseback is a decent enough way to get around the Emerald Ring. Not everyone would agree with me, though. A Darterfly or a reliable ship would make for a shorter trip in most cases. A team of Mirwolves could run just as fast and they wouldn’t fall prey to some of the predators that prowled the forests of the Eastern Wilds.

So why was I bothering with a horse? Simply put, convenience is kingly.

My horse was such in shape and function only. Surely no real horse could race along as fast as a falling arrow flung from afar while making less sound than a tumbleweed rolling along the slope of a dune in the desert sun. Better still, this horse was always at my side, even when it wasn’t. My faithful shadow, always one step behind me.

The beaten paths we floated over seemed seldom used, but the overgrowth yielded to an unseen force, drawn back like a hand that had just been bitten. So too, did the animals and insects make a path. The hunter spiders fell back to their boroughs and dens, peering out at us from the darkness with their bulbous red eyes. Even the shadows that the trees cast seemed to shrivel up as the morning dragged on.

I had lost track of the time. Looking up, all I could see was a quilt of leaves, rich green, and slender branches, long like some wisping tendrils of smoke rising up from a mahogany pipe. It wasn’t until we met the crash of rushing water that I found a window by which I could still see the sky. I judged the time to be 9 ‘o’ clock in the morning with a small margin of error given in either direction. It’d only taken me a couple of hours to make my way west of Dalmar, past the crags of the Broken Mountains and into the nameless green forest that swallowed up the churning flow of the Godfinger Rapids before the river wound its way up into the Graytop Mountains, far out of sight.

Of course, all of this was a long detour. There was a bridge connecting the trade routes between Dalmar and Athedia. It would have been much faster to go that way, certainly, but I don’t like bridges. Too many people and too much open space for my taste. Maybe on a moonless night, beneath a cloud-covered sky. Besides, I had other options. Here, at the edge of the forest, where the Godfinger Rapids raged year-round, there was another path, albeit more treacherous.

If one were so inclined, they could cross the rapids by jumping across the stones that protruded from the water. Sure, treading from one rock to the next might have been a daunting task to most travelers, but I had become something that was apart from your typical adventurer. My mount effortlessly glided along the path of boulders and large stones that dotted the white waters.

After crossing and making our way back out of the forest, tall spires atop flagstone castle towers began to jut up from the soft carpet of the abundant meadows that lay to the west of Athedia. Windswept red banners whipped about, still bound to the flagpoles they hung from, but just barely. A gale must have kicked up from the sea while I’d ridden around the bridge, likely the remnants of a more violent storm that had managed to twist itself free of the Tumultuous Plains. A distant clap of thunder to the southeast seemingly confirmed my thought. How fortuitous for me.

Instead of making a beeline for Athedia, I decided to lay low along the outskirts of the Rainbow Basin. The rough terrain did not hinder our travel, but the heavy mist surrounding its outskirts served to conceal our passage. Soon my gaze swept across the kingdom’s backside – a sheer cliff.

The castle keep was located on the top of a small plateau wrapped in a flagstone cape and adorned with a matching crown. The noble quarters and the more important establishments, such as the bank, the barracks, and the access to the aquifer, sprawled out along the south side of the castle, flanked by yet another great stone wall. Beyond that laid the villages situated along the road to the Dalmar.

By concentrating most of its battlements towards the more vulnerable south side and using the sheer cliffs as natural defenses, Athedia had proven itself a difficult kingdom to conquer many times over, or so I’d read. While an army might have a tough time scaling their way to the top of the northern face unnoticed, I was not an army. I was just… well, me.

Or more precisely, a lone rider in black, galloping headlong towards that seemingly insurmountable mass of stone. No sign of slowing down. At the last possible moment, I leaned back as we sailed upwards. At first, it looked like we’d smash into the cliff, but we defied gravity’s tyrannical grasp and began to run straight up the side of the cliff.  As we climbed upwards, I tilted my head to the side, relishing in the gentle crosswinds caressing my cheek.  

Without warning, we sailed off of the cliff face, flying higher still, past the great flagstone walls of the castle keep. Soon it was only the tallest of towers that could rival us, that being a single spire higher than all of the rest; the Steward’s private quarters, complete with a garden balcony. It was as good a landing place as any.

We landed atop marble tiles, amidst a sea of red roses that were complimented by crimson banners bearing a golden coat of arms: a lion brandishing a thunderbolt. The seal of Athedia. With the wave of my hand, the ephemeral mare faded away, allowing me to gracefully descend to the ground. I tapped the tip of my boot against the smooth tiles as I noted the impressive workmanship surrounding me before turning towards a pair of violet curtains.

“I have answered your summons.” I called out. A tedious silence followed. From somewhere I could not place came a rare scent, like lavender but even more subtle. I could recognize it anywhere: Silver Moonflower. Not to be confused with your garden variety Moonflower, this was its rare sibling, known only to grow in the deepest parts of the Lunar Woods, far from the reaches of the Emerald Ring.

“Are you going to invite me in or not?” I tried again.

“Thought you might let yourself in, Sildahan.” A strong, sharp voice answered me as the curtains were swept aside by a gloved hand. A pair of sparkling, amber eyes leveled with my own as a tall, slender woman stepped out to greet me. Before me stood Lazira, Steward of Athedia, in what was unmistakably her battle garb – an intimidating breastplate resembling a snarling lion with a gaping, toothy maw on the front side, expertly molded from some kind of black alloy. Her skirt and her bracers were fortified with the same material. Beneath that formidable shell, she wore a form-fitting jumpsuit woven from flexible, charcoal-colored scales that descended into tall, black leather boots that only served to accentuate her own height.

“Have I done something to offend you?” I smirked as I gestured towards her rapier, another fine work of art on display. A bell-shaped guard that seemed to be carved out of one massive bloodstone protected a grip lined with dark fur. A hefty ruby had been set into its pommel. The blade seemed impossibly thin, like it was one single, rigid thread of a spider’s web. This must be the famous black rapier, Myranir, wielded by Lazira of Athedia, practically invisible to the naked eye. Certainly a curious instrument.

“Hm? Oh. This little potato peeler?” She held up the sword. “N’er to fear, Sildahan. ‘Tis that time of day when a lady must practice lest age and idle hands get the better of her.” With that, she casually turned her back towards me and walked back into the tower. I waited a moment and then followed after her, maintaining a respectful distance. As the velvet curtains were swept aside, I was greeted by a decidedly austere chamber, adorned by little else but the drapes and wall-to-wall mirrors. I gazed upon my reflection for a moment and wondered if I wasn’t a bit dressed down for this occasion. No matter.

“What has led you to summon me, Lazira?” I saw no reason to make casual conversation. Not today.

“Ah, I see you’ve a mind to cut me to the quick.” Lazira turned on her heel to address me. She let her rapier hang down at her side.

“I have a busy evening planned.” No smirks from me, just a cold, hard stare which she returned in kind.

“So be it. Kill Kendo of Valikorlia. This I ask of you and only you, Sildahan.” She came right out with it. “Quick and painless, if’n you please. And discreet.” She added quickly. No beating around the bush. Just as expected. I turned away from her.

“And what has the good Steward done to earn your ire, Lazira?” I found myself glaring over my shoulder at her when I decided to answer her. She turned to the side, minimizing her profile and obscuring her rapier from my sight. She sighed.

“Can’t think of a thing at all. Just simple facts: Kendo’s life or a full-scale war throughout the Ring. Surely you, Sildahan, can see the scales tipped to one side?” She continued to stand still. Poised to act, but not yet on guard.

“I think if you add the lives that would be bought and sold as slaves to that scale, you might think differently, Lazira.” This time I turned to address her.

“Oh, Sildahan… who would have thought you to have a bleeding heart.” She scowled at me  as she continued, “My say makes no diff’rence. They’ll bring slavers back to the Ring whether I do or don’t, but you see, the diff’rence is, if they decide to come after this nation, we’re not sitting on the opposite side of the sea. No sir, we’re already fenced in – Gideon to the south, and Nesden to the north. They would cut off our trade routes by land and sea, and all of us would starve.” She articulated her points with a particular rhythm. I also couldn’t argue with anything she was saying, but that didn’t persuade me.

“I will not kill Kendo. He has done no wrong.” I folded my arms across my chest and stuck my chin out.

“Oho, now I see. You fancy a bargain, Mr. Sildahan. Now it all makes sense. Well, I havn’t the mind or the time for haggling, so name your price.” She was doing a good job of maintaining her composure so far. Hmm.

“Hate to say it, but I’m not interested in any of the treasure you’d throw at my feet to prevent this war from occurring.” I turned away from her again and she laughed outright.  

“Are you so certain?” She asked. “Our vaults have trinkets even you may not have laid eyes on.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. I did let myself in once.” I knew that she was a tough customer, but so was I.

“I see you are also quite a joker as well as a waste of time, Mr. Sildahan.” I saw her nostrils flare a little through the reflection of the mirror before me. Finally. A crack in her armor.

“If I’ve wasted your time, then I’ve wasted my own, and as I’ve already said, I have a busy evening planned.” I allowed myself the smallest of smirks as I turned to face her. She cocked one eyebrow at me.

“Ah surely you must have a full itinerary if you plan on dragging all the armies of the Emerald Ring down to Melram before this day is done.” Now it was her turn to smirk. My lips puckered a little and I turned my head to the side as if I were about to brush a speck of dust off of my duster.

“That would be far too vulgar a display of power, Lazira.” I shook my head to accentuate my position, then continued. “Only three lives are needed to restore the balance.” Her expression softened as it dawned upon her.

“You’ll murder three Stewards then?” She asked, eyes bright with curiosity.   

“Inevitably so, and you are going to help me, Lazira.” I flashed her a smile, but there was no warmth to it. No, it was more like I was baring my fangs.

“I think not, Sildahan. If you want to get yourself killed, that’s fine, but you won’t drag my country into an early grave alongside you.” She still hadn’t dropped that subtle defensive stance of hers.

“I could try to reassure you that this will not lead back to Athedia or Valikorlia. After all, if I were found out, then the Emerald Ring would already be at war instead of teetering on the precipice of it.” I let my hands dangle at my side and began to walk towards Lazira. She didn’t budge.

“Oho? And how might you accomplish that? Seems far-fetched to me.” She narrowed her eyes and shot me an incredulous look. I chuckled.

“Without a doubt, but that doesn’t make anything I’ve said untrue.” I stopped advancing head on when I was just outside of her reach – more than several paces away. Instead, I began to circle around her, towards her left side, away from her dominant right hand.

“Seems we’ve become at odds then.” Lazira declared. “Know this, Sildahan; I will drink your blood before I let you harm my people.” As I circled, so did she pivot on the ball of her back foot, keeping her profile minimized. The duel was well underway.

“How about we break this stalemate with a friendly wager, then?” I extended my right arm out to the side, palm outstretched and waiting. From beneath the shadow of my hand rose up a long, slender object. To her eyes, it might have resembled a blade already, but once I closed my fingers around it, there would be no doubt. In an instant, a black longsword appeared in my hand, and while its blade offered a peculiar luster, it did not seem to reflect any light. No, if anything, the light seemed to shrink away from it.

Now she pivoted to the side, turning her sword arm towards me. The tip of her rapier danced in the air, all but impossible to see.

“Sounds interesting, but I’ll be damned if I lose my soul to a kaern such as yourself.” She spat the words out with a surprising amount of bite. She pivoted again, this time showing me her sword arm. The tip of her rapier was all but possible to see as she leveled its blade with me.

“I don’t have any use for such things, Lazira. I’m not a god. Just hold on a moment.” It was my turn to raise my blade. Despite its length, I was able to wield it with but a single hand, for the otherworldly material it was made from was lighter and sharper than any kind of steel you’d find around the Ring.

“This is what I had in mind – a duel, first to draw blood wins. If I win, you must light the signal bonfire to signal your dissent. That is all. If you win, I will assassinate Kendo as you originally requested and you will get to keep your false sense of security. How about it?” There it was, laid out bare on the table. Would she accept the terms?

“… Deal.” She hardly hesitated.

“Then let us begin.” As soon as the words had left my mouth, she lunged at me. Her blade lashed out angrily, as if she could barely hold on to it. I felt its tip float past my nose as I instinctively stepped aside. A follow up strike nearly tagged my leg but I kicked my foot back at the last second. Another follow up might have landed had I not batted away her expert thrust with my longsword. Behind her gritted teeth and focused stare I could see her sizing me up, taking note of how quickly I could swing my weapon, the way I evaded her first series of probing attacks. This could be difficult. Unless…

My stomach muscles flexed, becoming like a stern girdle as I forced a deep breath down into my abdomen. With my free hand still resting behind my back, I clenched my fist, seeing the current in my mind’s eye, watching it course faster as I continued to backstep and circle away before my opponent could maneuver in range. She began to grow emboldened. It wouldn’t matter.

That familiar prickling along the back of my neck, that burning itch deep inside my left eye. The curtains behind Lazira begin to flow like molasses all the while the echoes of the storm roaring outside remained constant. My foe tried to step inside again, but now it seemed as if she was stuck inside an invisible pit of quicksand. Everything around me was happening in slow motion. Even my own limbs moved as if they were struggling against an unseen floodtide, and yet I felt relaxed. Calm. All of these were sensations that I had grown accustomed to.

There it is. That almost imperceptible blade of hers, cutting the air as it billowed forward. I slipped inside, twisting my torso as I watched her blade cleave the empty space where my heart had been just a second ago. She really wasn’t pulling any punches. Nor should she have. If I had to guess, it felt like she was moving at only a tenth of her original speed. That was probably a good thing, as I wasn’t confident my luck would have held out otherwise. She was quite good, but I expected as much, given her reputation.

Alas, I didn’t have all day to play, nor did I have a desire to. After all, this wasn’t really fair. She was only human. I was… something else. Definitely not a “god,” because those don’t exist, and not necessarily “better than,” your typical human. Just different. Standing directly before her, I raised my free hand up and pointed my index finger towards her cheek. A strand of shadow wrapped its way down my arm and up to my pointed index finger, where it became a sharp talon. I raised it to her cheek and pressed it just lightly enough for a single bloom of red to well up from beneath the surface. I continued on, stepping past her, enjoying the shocked expression that had just began to form on her face from one of the mirror’s reflections.

With that, I had won the contest. The world snapped back to its normal, impatient self. I gestured towards her cheek as she turned around.  She side-eyed herself in one of the mirrors and spotted the little red rivulet, like a bloody tear. Her sword clattered to the floor, and so I dropped my own, allowing it to fall silently and rejoin the rest of my shadow. Now came the real question; would she uphold her end of the deal?

“How?” She asked, jerking her temple towards me as if the question would dig itself out of her skull if it wasn’t answered.

“Trade secret, I’m afraid.” I offered her a thin-lipped smile. “With that, I must ask that you uphold your end of the bargain. I need Nesden to see that red smoke and react to it.” I strode towards her and stood before her once again. The way her lip quivered said it all – she was afraid. Not necessarily of me, but of the consequences that this would bring upon her country.

“But… Gideon and Nesden…” She stammered a little bit.

“Leave Nesden to me.” I offered her a courteous bow.

“And Gideon?” She asked. I closed my eyes and replayed Gideon’s last moments. My grin spread from ear to ear, like a scarecrow’s.

“I think you’ll find that Gideon couldn’t harm a fly.” With that, I sank into the floor, leaving only the echo of my twisted laughter and the tiny pinprick upon her cheek as the only evidence of my visit.

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