The Redsong Saga: Voidsinger

By J. Weaver

© J. Weaver 2025

The Redsong Saga tells the story of Saga Rose, an adventuring Bard who is caught up in the return of an ancient evil. Inducted into a secret order tasked with stopping it, she must travel the world of Chorana, making friends, gathering allies, and increasing her own power, all in the hopes of being able to end the growing threat before it's too late. Along the way she'll encounter monsters, bandits, cultists, and more, and she'll need all of her strength, magic, and wits to overcome the challenges they present and solve the mystery of the Voidsong.

What to expect:

  1. Traditional epic fantasy inspired by the likes of The Lord of the Rings, The Wheel of Time, The Stormlight Archives
  2. Action, adventure, comedy, and a touch of romance
  3. Themes of hope, determination, and forgiveness
  4. A slow burn, introducing a carefully crafted world to (hopefully) fall in love with
  5. A cute jumping spider who likes to wear hats

Schedule: I intend to post a chapter every Thursday, work and mental health willing. Depending on how the chapters are coming out I may start posting more often.

Content warning: This (planned) trilogy will touch on some dark subject matter, including death and mental health, and will have some suggestive themes. There will be depictions of violence, disfigurement, and dismemberment. This is not a YA story.

Character art by romuo_ on Discord: https://romuo.carrd.co/

Chapters

  1. Prologue
  2. Apprentice Saga
  3. The Journeyman Trial
  4. The City of Artisans
  5. The Vance Family
  6. Boy Genius
  7. My Father, the Craftking
  8. A Brother's Gift
  9. Late For Dinner
  10. A Kiss Goodbye
  11. Cristin's Crossroads
  12. The Dancer
  13. A Friendly Conversation
  14. A Friendlier Conversation
  15. A Dire Situation
  16. Morning Follows Night
  17. First Contact
  18. First Blood
  19. Aftermath
  20. The Captain
  21. Betrayal

Chapter 1

12 February 2025

Saga cried.

She’d woken up in her bed at home, wearing her nightclothes and tucked in tight. She couldn’t remember going to sleep, but it only took her a moment of wondering how she got there before she had a flash of memory.

The Redlight had been whispering. It was so pretty she couldn’t look away. There was a blur of motion, a shout, and a scream, and then fire filled her vision, then nothing. She cried now, wishing the fire would go away, but every time she closed her eyes…

She reached up to her right eye, only just now realizing she couldn’t see through it. There was a bandage there; she could feel it getting wet from her tears. What happened to her eye? Was it broken? She reached for the edge of the bandage, her hand trembling, and started to pull at it when a voice made her freeze.

“Good morning, Saga.”

She turned her head to the side and saw Grandpapa sitting on her little stool, making it look littler. Her room was little too, but it was okay because so was she. Her bed was soft and her favorite toys were here, and that was enough for her. Next to the stool was a small table that she did her studying on, but it looked really small next to Grandpapa.

He was tall, really tall, like Mama, but his hair was white instead of blonde like hers. She wondered why sometimes, but he only laughed when she asked him like she said something funny. Sometimes he looked grumpy, like now, and his eyes reminded her of storm clouds, but they sparkled when he smiled and it made him look less grumpy. She liked it when he smiled. “I’m sorry, but you need to leave the bandage on for a little while.” His voice was deep, even deeper than Papa’s, and it made her feel a little better.

The eye under the bandage started to itch, and she reached up to scratch it before stopping herself. Miss Lessa always said don’t itch scratches or you’ll make them worse. “Why? What happened?” she asked. She was afraid of the answer, but Mama always said it was better to know than not, and Mama was smart.

He watched her for a second before replying. He kept looking in her eyes like he was waiting for something. “How much do you remember?”

Saga told him the little bit she remembered. “I can’t see out of it. Am I blind now? Will I have to wear an eyepatch like Master Toral? He’s nice but he looks scary.” She didn’t want to be nice but scary, though she wondered if she could get one that looked nice so it wouldn’t be scary.

Grandpapa chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t worry, little one. The healer said he was able to save your eye. The bandage is for the cut around it. It’s mostly healed, but we want to make sure it doesn’t get infected. How does it feel?”

“Itchy.” She reached up to scratch it again, but once more she stopped herself and held her hands together. “You should hold your own hand if you’re tempted to do something wrong,” Miss Lessa had told her, “so you can keep yourself out of trouble.” Miss Lessa gave good advice.

He smiled, like she’d made a joke. “I know, little one. Are you hungry?” Her stomach growled loudly and suddenly, which made her face hot, and she nodded. He nodded back, stood, and went to the door. Someone was standing outside, she thought, because he said something she couldn’t hear, then closed the door and sat down again. “Alright, breakfast is on the way. You need to make sure you eat it all, okay?”

Saga eyed him suspiciously. Why would he ask her to eat everything unless there was something gross? “What is it?”

He laughed. “It’s good for you. The healing spell saved your eye but it drained you. You’ll have to rest, eat, and finish healing so you can go back to studying and playing.”

She closed her eyes for a moment to check, and the fire was still there. She started to cry again. “Am I in trouble? Is Epic okay? And Papa?” she sobbed. She couldn’t remember anything that happened after the accident, and the worry was eating at her stomach more than the hunger.

She felt Grandpapa place his hand on her head. “They’re fine, Saga. Carver is already back to work, and Epic wasn’t hurt at all.” He chuckled, and gave her a crooked smile, which made her feel better. “Unless you count the scolding your mother gave him.”

Saga looked up at him as he pulled his hand away, suddenly indignant. “Epic got in trouble from Mama? But he didn’t do anything! It was my fault!” If she hadn’t been so distracted by the Redlight, or if she’d called for Papa sooner. Her mind was racing with all the things she could’ve done better, and then nobody would be in trouble.

“He’s been told before not to run in the Shapers’ Forge, especially near one of the forges.” His face was stern now. “If he hadn’t tripped, the coal dust wouldn’t have been stirred up and exploded. He’s lucky the blast was so small and no one died.”

“But…”

“Your powers have just barely started to wake, Saga. No one expects you to be able to understand the Redlights yet. Honestly, I’m impressed you figured out it was warning you about something. If you hadn’t, Epic might be dead.”

She lowered her eyes again. She was old enough to know what death was, and the thought of Epic dying was too horrible to think about. “Still…”

There was a knock at the door, and Grandpapa got up to accept some food from one of the servants. He thanked Lessa - she liked Lessa, she was nice, and she didn’t have an eyepatch so she wasn’t scary unless Saga was bad - and brought the food to the little table.

It was a bowl of porridge, some fruit, eggs, and bread with butter. Saga made a face at the sight of the porridge, but Grandpapa pulled it towards himself. “The porridge is mine, little one, don’t you worry,” he said with a laugh. “The rest is for you.”

She smiled and jumped down from the bed, but she suddenly felt dizzy and almost fell over. Grandpapa was there to catch her, though. “Careful, you’ve slept, but you haven’t eaten since the accident, you’re going to feel tired until you do.” He guided her onto her stool and pulled up another to sit across from her.

They ate in comfortable silence, except for when she asked him why he liked porridge. “It’s good for me, and it tastes good with raisins in it.” He seemed happy eating the gross stuff, so she let it go. Her food was good, and she was already starting to feel a little better. When she finished, she went back to her bed and laid down.

Grandpapa watched her thoughtfully for a moment as she lay there. “Do you know what you want to do, Saga?”

“I wanna itch it.”

He laughed, but she couldn’t stop herself this time. She was careful to only get the spot above the bandage, though, where a little bit of her skin felt weird. Grandpapa watched but didn’t say anything, giving her a smile instead, so she guessed that was okay.

He waited until she was done before he spoke again. “Besides that. I mean, when you grow up? Do you want to be a blacksmith like your Mama and Papa? Or something else?”

She looked up at him, confused by the question. “Papa said he wants to start my training early.”

Grandpapa nodded. “I heard. He thinks you’ll be very good at it like him and your Mama, but what do you want to do? If you could do anything.”

Saga sat up and scooted against the headboard, looking up at the ceiling. She knew what she wanted to do when she was bigger, but she was afraid if she said it out loud it would make Mama and Papa sad. “I don’t know. I like being with Mama and Papa and Epic, but…”

“But?”

She blushed and drew her knees up to cover her face, just barely peeking out over them at him. “I wanna be an adventurer like Adressa in the stories.”

“Oh? Do you, now?” He chuckled, but she didn’t know why, and it made her mad. Was he making fun of her?

“Yeah! She saved a bunch of people from the berserkers! I wanna be like her!” She had pulled her knees down and looked him in the eyes, like grown-ups do when they want you to know they’re serious. “She ran really fast, even though her feet hurt, and they couldn’t catch her! And she could dance really good, and went all over the world and saw all kinds of stuff! I wanna do that, too!”

Grandpapa raised an eyebrow at her, but she didn’t think he was making fun of her this time. “I see. Do you want to be a bard like me, then? Adressa was a bard, you know, a dancer.”

Saga made a face. Even though Grandpapa wasn’t the Craftking anymore, it seemed like he was always busy talking to important people or sitting at his old desk writing. The desk smelled nice, though, and if she was really quiet he’d let her sit with him sometimes. She wouldn’t want to sit at the desk all the time, though. She told him this, and he laughed. She liked his laugh, as long as he wasn’t teasing her.

“You know I used to travel all the time, right? I wasn’t always so boring.” He made a silly face as he said the last part, and it made her giggle. “I met your grandmother on the road, in fact. Did I ever tell you that story?”

She shook her head, growing excited. He hadn’t, though she’d asked him a bunch of times before, and he knew it. “Uh-uh. You said it was a story for big kids and I’m only seven.”

He chuckled. “I did say that. Well…I suppose you’re big enough now. You saved your brother’s life, after all. It takes a big kid to do something like that.”

Her eye itched again. She didn’t see it that way, but she didn’t dare tell him that in case he decided not to tell her the story after all. She stayed quiet, but gave him her best wide-eyed hopeful look, the same one she used to get treats from Lessa, and Grandpapa laughed again.

“Alright, alright. Put that face away, it’s a dangerous weapon. You must never use it for evil.” His face went stern when he said this, but his eyes twinkled so she knew he was joking. “Okay, settle in, and I’ll tell you about how I met your grandmother, Aurana.”

She did so, snuggling under her covers despite it being late morning as best as she could tell. Having situated herself, she turned her head to him expectantly, and he smiled. “So, where to begin…

“This was back before I was Craftking, or even the Bard Councillor. I was just Tale Lantos, Master Bard. I traveled the world in search of knowledge to add to the Academy’s Archives while earning my way as a Dancer. You may not know it to look at me now, but I was once a graceful dancer with my swords in hand.”

Saga had a mental image of Grandpapa holding a sword the same way Papa held Mama when they danced and stifled a giggle. Thankfully, Grandpapa didn’t seem to notice. He finished taking a drink of water, then continued.

“My travels at the time most frequently had me traveling through the Noblewood. Have I told you about that place?”

“Uh huh! It’s the big forest west of here with floating trees! You said it’s really dangerous and I should never go there without you or Mama or Papa.”

“Good, I’m glad you’re listening. Well, the main road west goes through that forest, and it’s common for traders and other travelers to hire guards for the trip. Many bandits reside in the deep corners of the Noblewood, hiding up in the trees or in dark caves. Since it’s too big for any of the surrounding territories to patrol, they can strike at travelers from the safety of their caves and camps. Since I was more able to defend myself than most other bards, I was the Master Bard most commonly sent that direction.

“On one trip, I was camping on the side of the road, enjoying my porridge-”

“Eww!” Saga exclaimed, giggling.

He continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “Enjoying my delicious porridge, full of raisins and cinnamon, just bowls and bowls of it as far as the eye could see.”

“Grandpapa!” She shouted again, and he finally laughed.

“Alright, alright, I had some sausages on the fire. Anyway, I was just getting ready to eat when I heard a woman scream. The sound had come out of nowhere, and I was on my feet as fast as you could blink! Out of the darkness, a woman came running, as if running from death itself.”

“She was clad head to toe in gold, with a hood covering her face. I knew something was off about her, but her pursuers left me no time to question her. A dozen bandits jumped out at me, but I was ready for them!” He jumped to his feet suddenly, acting like he was fighting with a sword, except he was holding his spoon and swinging it around. He looked silly, but she had to admit he did look more graceful than she expected.

“They rushed me all at once, but I danced circles around them with Zephyr, my redsteel sword. Every time one of them got too close, I’d give a flourish, and the sword would send them flying away. They had numbers on their side though. Dozens became hundreds as the fight dragged on-”

“You beat a hundred guys!?” She couldn’t believe he was so strong, but he was Mama’s Papa, and Mama was strong, so anything was possible.

“I sure did! It was tough, but I eventually sent them all running with their tails between their legs. That was when the woman took her hood down and revealed her golden hair.”

“Like mine?” She reached up and touched her long hair. People told her she got it from her Mama all the time, but she thought they weren’t very smart because she grew it all on her own.

Grandpapa shook his head, sitting down and taking a drink of water. He looked tired. “No, not quite. Your hair is blonde, but hers was actual gold, like the metal.”

“Grandmama had metal hair!?” That must have been heavy!

He shook his head again, holding back a smile. “It looked like metal, but I don’t think it was. And I never said she was your grandmother.”

She rolled her eyes. Mama didn’t like it when she did that but Mama did it all the time so it couldn’t be that bad. “Well, duh! You said it’s the story of how you met Grandmama, of course it’s her!”

“You know, stories can have more than one important character.” He winked at her. “You’re right, though. This woman introduced herself to me as Aurana, a noblewoman of The Red City traveling through the Noblewood.”

Saga furrowed her brow in thought. It made her eye itch, but she ignored it. “Where were her guards? Where was she from?”

“That’s the trick, you see. I knew as soon as I saw her that she wasn’t what she appeared to be, even before I saw her hair. ‘You’re lying’, I said. ‘No noblewoman as beautiful as yourself would travel without her guard, especially in the Noblewood and dressed so extravagantly!’ I held her at swordpoint, suspecting a trick, but she surprised me!”

Saga gasped. “Did she hit you?”

“No, worse! She laughed at me! Her smile was stunning, and her amber eyes looked almost as gold as her hair when they reflected the fire. Aurana took my breath away, standing there.” Grandpapa went quiet for a moment, and Saga thought he looked sad. She was about to ask if he was okay but he continued before she could. “She laughed for a moment, told me we’d meet again, then disappeared into the dark of the forest. I still don’t know how a woman dressed that brightly could simply vanish, no matter how dark it was.

“Some time later, I was heading through the Noblewood again. Just like the previous time, I heard a scream, but this time I was ready. Once again, Aurana came running out of the woods at me, but I caught the hint of a smile under her hood. Just like before, some bandits came pounding out of the woods after her. There was a big bas-” He cut off, coughing and clearing his throat. Saga wondered if he got some porridge caught in the wrong pipe, but he continued after another drink of water. “There was a very large man leading them.

“He ranted and raved at me, swinging his huge sword around in anger. Apparently, Aurana had been letting herself be seen by them and letting them chase her all over the forest, eventually leading them into some kind of trouble. I was curious about her motives, but I couldn’t ignore the brigands trying to get past me to kill her. I made it very clear that they would not be harmed, and they left peacefully.”

“They really left? Even though they were mad?”

He shot her a sideways glance and hesitated before smiling proudly. “Of course! I told them what would happen to them if they didn’t leave and they left. Your grandpapa is very persuasive, you know. So, they all left, and I was left alone with Aurana all over again. I was about to ask her to explain herself when she surprised me yet again!”

Saga giggled. “Did she laugh again?”

“No, she hit me! I don’t know where she’d been hiding the sword, but she came at me quick as lightning!” He was up and moving again, apparently having caught his breath. “Fortunately for me, I was fast too, and we crossed our blades before separating. The fight began in earnest, then, and we struck at each other again and again. Neither of us could gain the upper hand over the other!

“It soon became clear to me, however, that she wasn’t trying to kill me. No, no, she was dancing with me! I realized she was attacking me in ways that would force me to counter with moves I frequently used in sword dances. As soon as I had this thought, I broke away from her and lowered my sword. ‘You will not get a free performance from me, my lady,’ I said, but she laughed again and her sword vanished.

“She sat against a nearby tree, then, and invited me to sit by her. I obeyed, as a gentleman does, though I remained wary. She explained that she had been teasing the bandits in the process of looking for an artist.”

“An artist?” Saga was confused. What did bandits and fights have to do with art? This story didn’t make much sense, but she enjoyed it when Grandpapa told her stories so she didn’t tell him that part.

“Indeed.” He’d sat again, but on the floor this time, leaning up against her bedroom wall. “I made my confusion known to her, but thankfully she explained herself this time. She told me that she believed warriors are a kind of artist on the battlefield. Not just fighters and killers, she said, but true warriors, the kind of men and women they tell stories about. She’d taken a liking to me after seeing my first ‘performance’, and had arranged for an encore upon my return. Our little duel had been her final test, and she asked me to visit her again sometime.

“I was still a little confused, but your grandpapa wasn’t about to say no to a pretty lady making such a polite request. I told her I would visit her, and asked where I could find her again.” He shook his head, a faint smile on his face. He seemed sad again, and she wanted to give him a hug, but she felt too tired to get up. “She told me she would find me next time I came to the Noblewood. And like that, she was gone.”

Grandpapa closed his eyes for a second, smiling. “I made sure to pass through there as often as I could from then on, and every time I did, we met again. Sometimes she invited ‘guests’, sometimes we dueled, and sometimes…”

“Sometimes what?”

“We talked. I told her about my travels, and she told me about herself. We continued to meet whenever we could, but after months of meeting every few weeks, I was…forced to go somewhere else for a while. I didn’t see Aurana again for about a year. When I finally visited her again…she was carrying a baby in her arms. Lorana, your mother. She told me that I wouldn’t see her anymore, that she had a duty to fulfill, but that she’d enjoyed the time we’d spent together.”

Grandpapa fell silent for a while. Saga laid there, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about the story she’d waited so long to hear. Grandmama seemed weird, but Grandpapa was weird sometimes too and it was okay. She hoped she could meet her someday. She turned her head back to Grandpapa to ask if he thought she might but found him staring at her with an odd look.

“Do you know anything about your powers?”

The question surprised Saga, and she shrugged. Her eye itched. “I know Mama has them too, but Epic and Papa don’t. Mama has horns, and she said I might have horns too one day.”

“Did she tell you where it comes from?” When she shook her head, he continued.

“Well, Aurana, your grandmother…she’s a dragon.”

Saga opened her eyes wide. “Grandmama was a dragon? Does that mean Mama is a dragon?” She gasped. “Am I a dragon?”

Grandpapa laughed and shook his head. “No, you aren’t a dragon. Not entirely. People like you, like your Mama, are called drakes. You have the blood of a dragon in your veins, but you’re still human like anyone else. You have the potential to be great at whatever you want to do, provided you put in the work. You can be a great smith, like your father wants. Your ability to talk to Redlights will give you an edge in that. You’ll also have some natural ability at magic, though, again, you’ll have to work at it like anyone else to be great.”

Saga’s head felt dizzy, but not the same kind of dizzy from earlier. “If I don’t want to be a blacksmith like Mama and Papa, or a mage like Master Lukas, can I do other things too? Do you think I can be a bard like Adressa?”

Grandpapa stood and walked over to her, leaning down to hug her tightly. “You can do whatever you want to do, little one. If you want to be a bard, then I bet you’ll be the best bard we’ve ever seen.”

Her eye itched again. “What if I want to be normal? What if I don’t want to have horns and dragon blood and powers?”

He pulled away a little, but still held her. His smile was warm, and it made her feel a little better. “You were born with power, Saga. You can’t change that. However, you can choose if you want to use it, and what to use it for. Don’t let anyone take that choice away from you.”

Saga nodded quietly, thinking, and he stood up straight again. “Alright, little one. It’s time for you to sleep.”

“Can you tell me one more story?” She looked up at him, giving him that wide-eyed look again, and he laughed.

“You won’t get me a second time with that trick, young lady.” Why did people only call her a lady when they thought she was up to no good? Grown-ups are weird. “You need to rest so you can get back to playing, alright?”

She sighed dramatically and settled into her blankets. “Okay.”

As Grandpapa walked to the door, Saga heard a rustling sound from one of her shelves, the one that had her sewing supplies the weavers from the Stitchers’ Works had gifted her. He froze and turned his head to the shelf. “Did you hear…”

Before she could say that yes, she did, the sound came again, and the basket of supplies tipped over onto the floor. She heard a tiny squeak and a chitter and peered over the edge of her bed to see what had happened. Grandpapa approached the pile slowly, like he was scared. For a moment, nothing happened, and if it weren’t for the basket now being upended all over the floor, she might have thought she’d imagined the noise.

Then the chittering came again, and a spider the size of her fist crawled out from the sewing basket. It was grey and fuzzy, like a mouse with eight legs, with a black stripe running down its back, and big eyes that peered up at Grandpapa, then at Saga. The thimble that seemed stuck on its head looked almost like a hat, and she couldn’t help giggling at the sight. It tilted its head at her when she did, then turned to look at the thimble when it fell off, seeming confused.

“Huh, I didn’t know you had a roommate.” Grandpapa smiled down at the tiny creature. “You’re a beatweaver, aren’t you?” The spider looked back up to Grandpapa and, to Saga’s surprise, nodded!

“Can it understand you?” Saga asked breathlessly, having climbed down out of her bed to kneel on the floor in front of the creature. She knew some people were afraid of spiders, but this one was fuzzy and cute and seemed nice. The spider - a beatweaver, Grandpapa called it - looked back at her and nodded again, waving its two front arms around.

“These are beatweavers, Saga. They’re commonly seen tapping the ground, and if they hear music they tap along to it, which is how they got their name. Some people think they use the tapping to talk to each other. They’re just like regular spiders, but bigger and sentient.”

“Sent yet?”

“Sentient,” he repeated slowly, allowing her to hear how the word was pronounced. “It means they have thoughts and are intelligent. They can understand human speech and can sometimes learn to communicate back. They like to hide and watch humans.” He gave the one on her floor an odd look. “This little fellow appears to have taken a liking to you. Otherwise I think he’d have scurried off by now.”

The little spider nodded again, then looked up at Saga, waving a single arm at her. She giggled and waved back, and the little creature chittered and hopped onto her lap before crawling up to her shoulder. She gasped at first, surprised, but then giggled uncontrollably. “That tickles!” It settled down finally, and she could almost feel it relaxing.

She looked up at her Grandpapa. “Can I keep him? Is it a him? Or a her? What’s her name?” She was suddenly full of questions, and she wasn’t sure she could sleep now even if she wanted to. She wanted to know all about her knew friend. Without waiting for Grandpapa to answer, she turned her head so that she could just barely see the little one. “Are you a girl? Tap my shoulder once for yes or twice for no.”

The beatweaver seemed to think about her words for a second, then tapped her twice.

“You’re a boy? Do you have a name?”

Two taps.

“Would you like a name?”

One tap.

She smiled wider. He definitely understood her. She looked up at her Grandpapa again, who was watching the pair with interest. He didn’t seem afraid, so the little one was probably safe, right? Or maybe he was just doing that thing adults do where they’re worried but don’t want you to know it. Her eye itched, but she didn’t care this time.

“Well, he’s not exactly a wild animal, he can make his own decision on if he wants to stay with you. I must say, though, he did look rather dapper with that thimble on his head.” He chuckled as he bent down to pick up the thimble in question, offering it back to the beatweaver. “Would you like your hat back, sir?”

The little one took the thimble and set it back on his head, and Saga giggled again. “Is dapper when someone looks nice?”

“Indeed it is.”

She turned her head back down to her new friend. “How about Dapper for a name? We can make a bunch of hats for you to wear!”

The beatweaver tilted his head back and forth, as if thinking. He almost lost his thimble-hat again, but he was ready this time and put an arm up to steady the load. Eventually, he nodded and gave her a tap.

“Dapper it is!” Grandpapa smiled and stood up. “Alright, Dapper, I don’t know if you were listening, but Saga here needs to get some sleep.”

“But Grandpapa!”

“You need to rest, little one.” He gave her his stern look, and she knew she wasn’t going to get any more time out of him. She pouted, then climbed back into bed with his help. Dapper scurried down her arm and onto the headboard, over her and out of the way while she got settled. Grandpapa leaned down and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Sweet dreams, little one. And Dapper?”

He looked up at Grandpapa.

“Keep watch over her, will you? I can trust no other with the task.” Grandpapa winked, though she wasn’t sure if it was for her or her new little friend. Above her, Dapper waved his arm in what she guessed was his version of a salute, and Grandpapa nodded in return. “Very good.” He stood, and silently left the room, giving her a smile before closing the door behind him.

Saga watched him leave, giving him a wave and smiling back at him, then looked up at Dapper. “G’night, Dapper.” She thought it was strange to be going to sleep in the middle of the day, but she admitted she was tired.

As she drifted off, her mind raced with the events of the past hour. Knowing Papa and Epic were okay was good, and she was glad she finally got to hear the story of how Grandpapa met Grandmama, but she still felt guilty about the accident the previous day, and uncertain of her future.

Wait, no.

She immediately realized that last part wasn’t true. After talking to Grandpapa, she knew what she wanted to do. All she had to do was get Papa to agree to it. She spent a few minutes thinking of the perfect face to make while asking him before finally drifting off to sleep.


Chapter 2

12 February 2025

12 years later...

Saga faced her opponent, saber clenched in hand and a grin on her face.

“Apprentice Saga, are you ready?” A voice came from the side. She nodded once, shifting into her ready posture: Right foot forward, left arm reaching towards her opponent with palm out, and right arm across her body with her saber pointed behind her.. Most swordsmen would be mocked for assuming this stance as it left the user wide open.

“Defender Jonas, are you ready?” The voice spoke again, this time addressing her opponent. Jonas was a stocky young man around Saga’s age, almost as tall as her but more heavily muscled. He nodded his response, and assumed his more traditional stance, both hands on his wooden sword. He left his shield on his back, for some reason. She supposed it was so he could put more force into his swings, but why keep the shield on at all?

“Remember, only Shield spells are allowed. No Haste or offensive spells. The duel begins when I say. Three…”

Saga winked at her opponent, her grin widening.

“Two…”

He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly at her, then smiled back.

“One…”

The two shared a nod.

“Begin!”

Saga sprang into motion, slipping to the side of Jonas’ opening chop. Even without Haste, she was fast on her feet. A Dancer had to be. She spun as she circled him, her sword flashing out at him in rapid strikes, difficult to predict if you weren’t used to them.

Unfortunately for her, Jonas was used to her fighting style, and he managed to spin with her while using his sword to defend against her flanking strikes. As her initial series of attacks ended, he lashed out with his sword once again, aiming for her sword arm.

She was prepared, of course. Her empty left hand came up and, protected by a timely Shield, pushed the sword off course. As he was sent off balance—why did he always fall for that?—she gripped her saber and went for the quick victory, a slash directed at his back.

Oh, that’s why.

Her sword bounced off of his shield with a loud clang, sending a sharp jolt up her arm. She hissed, hopping back to avoid the counterattack she knew was coming. His sword narrowly missed her face, and she had to fight the reflex to cast Haste. Instead, she forced herself to smile, lowering her sword and raising an eyebrow at him. “Really? Are you trying to scar the other eye?”

He shrugged and smiled, his confidence bolstered by his nearly successful trick. “I thought you’d like a matching set.”

She scoffed, but before she could retort he’d flung himself at her once more. She dodged again, dancing around his attack and performing several spinning slashes at him. It hit home this time, smacking his sword arm in two places.

“Touch,” Jonas growled in frustration, swapping hands and allowing the one she’d hit to go limp.

“Do you want to stop?” Saga said, her tone teasing. “That bruise will be nasty if you don’t get it healed.”

He lunged at her again in response, extending his arm and sword straight out in an effort to strike her chest, an immediately victory, but once again she deflected it with her open hand. By the Academy’s dueling rules, duelists could touch the enemy weapons with their hands without it counting as a touch, which would otherwise leave that arm “disabled”, but it wasn’t recommended to try unless the fighter could use a Shield spell. Otherwise, it was better to save your hand the bruises and just use a shield.

She didn’t tug on his sword this time; she’d made that mistake once and had been forced to let the resulting bruise heal naturally to teach her the lesson. Instead, she batted it towards his center of mass, throwing him slightly off balance, then spun to his sword, blade flashing out.

Blade dancing was an art that was equal parts performative and effective. The idea was to keep the opponent guessing with flourishes, spins, and sweeping gestures, presenting false openings to lure them into fatal mistakes.

Jonas was used to her style, though, and he wouldn’t be goaded so easily by something as obvious as a turned back. Instead, he recovered control of his blade just in time to be ready to block the expected strike…only to be struck across his opposite side and remaining arm in rapid succession.

Saga grinned and stepped away, holding her training saber vertically before her in salute. Her ploy had worked, though she knew it was a one-time trick, and wouldn’t work against an opponent who didn’t know her well.

Jonas glared at her, but his eyes held no heat, and he smiled when he returned her salute. “I should have seen that coming. Well played.”

She lowered her sword. “Thanks, you really made me work for it. The shield on your back was a neat trick! If I used a shield I’d consider it.”

“I got tired of having my back bruised,” he shrugged, then chuckled. “Got time for one more?”

“Apprentice Saga,” another voice called, their tone neutral.

It wasn’t their duel’s marshal, like before. Saga groaned, recognizing the voice immediately. “Yes, Master Dorrin?”

Master Dorrin was an grey-haired man with a slight build, though, like Grandpapa, she knew it was all the lean muscle of an athlete, and he was more spry than he looked. As always, he wore practical, comfortable traveling clothes, with his favorite green scarf providing a splash of color against the neutral tones he otherwise preferred. He wasn’t exactly short, but given she was taller than most people, he had to look up at her when he finally stood before her. As usual, he wasted no time on ceremony, preferring to get straight to the point.

“You were supposed to wait at my office.” His voice wasn’t exactly raspy, but it wasn’t her grandfather’s rich baritone or the practiced smoothness of a singer, either. It was more gravely, like someone who spent their youth in taverns drinking and smoking. It occurred to her that, for all the little he spoke of himself, perhaps he had.

“I’m sorry, Master.” She bowed her head. She had a good reason, but he wouldn’t want to hear it. Today was an important day, and she couldn’t just sit in an empty office waiting for hours! She had to burn off some of the nervous energy, and Jonas had come to the rescue with an offer to train. She’d obliged without hesitation. After all, who was she to turn down helping a friend?

Master Dorrin frowned, then looked at Jonas. “Guard Jonas, may I borrow your practice sword?”

Master Dorrin was Saga’s primary instructor, her assigned mentor, and was in charge of her training as a Dancer. He was an accomplished swordsman himself, widely considered to be second only to her grandfather in skill as a Dancer. Grandpapa said Master Dorrin was a close friend of his, but Saga wondered if her Master held some resentment at how people viewed them. Of course, her own reaction to being placed in his class probably hadn’t helped. She’d been disappointed to not be paired with her grandfather, even if she understood the reasons. Master Dorrin, in turn, had seemed to take that personally and made the last eight years of her life hell.

Jonas widened his eyes, but he didn’t dare refuse one of the Academy’s instructors, especially when his student was involved. He handed the man his wooden sword, then stepped away from the ring while Master Dorrin took up a position across the ring from Saga. “If you want extra training, Apprentice,” his voice was dangerously calm, “it is my duty as your mentor to provide it. Come at me.”

Saga hesitated. “Don’t you have news for me, Master?”

“Come at me, Apprentice. I won’t say it again.”

“But don’t you want—“

She’d been trying to offer him his customary second sword, but he’d meant what he said. The man practically flew across the ring at her, sword extended, and almost defeated her right then. She recovered, spinning out of the way of his thrust and dancing away. When she faced him again, though, he was much closer than she’d expected. He’s not playing around, she thought, and she only barely managed to block two more blows from his sword before hopping back to create distance between them.

“Don’t you want to set rules for the duel?” she gasped, trying to catch her breath from the sudden exertion. She hadn’t recovered from the previous fight, and it put her at a disadvantage.

He rushed her again, sidestepping to flank her at the last second and aiming a slash at her exposed ankle. “What have I taught you!?” he growled.

Saga leapt away from the attack, landing on the edge of the ring a few yards away. She knew what he was getting at. He trained her for real combat, and in a real fight there were no rules. In that split second when he turned to come at her again, she concentrated, gathering her Will and shaping it into the spell she wanted: Haste. She felt wind gather around her, felt it embrace her like an old friend. It pushed her, urged her to move, and she obliged.

She dashed sideways to avoid him, almost blur to onlookers, and began to circle her opponent. Even as fast as she’d become, she knew it was foolish to rush in without a plan. To her surprise, though, he didn’t pursue her, instead remaining perfectly still. Was he using the same strategy she’d used on Jonas, leaving his back exposed as a false opening? She wasn’t sure, but she knew she couldn’t just keep circling him. After using Shield in the previous fight, using Haste was already beginning to take its toll. The telltale throb in the back of her head promised pain later, but for now she had to hold on. Making a decision, she rushed straight at his back, watching for the counter she knew would come.

“You’ve been accepted.”

His words made her stumble to a halt, eyes wide in surprise. “Really?” she asked, hopeful.

She realized her mistake all too late. He turned suddenly, eyes glinting as he dashed forward and thrust his wooden sword directly at her stomach. She attempted to twist out of the way, but Haste only enhanced her speed, not her reflexes. Her reaction was too slow, and the glancing blow sent her spinning to the ground.

“Dirty trick,” she grumbled, but she knew it was her own fault for falling for it.

Master Dorrin grunted, then handed Jonas back his training sword before walking away. “Meet me in my office once you’ve recovered, Apprentice. We’ll discuss your trial there.”

She watched him go, mind racing with conflicting emotions, and held a hand to her side where he’d struck her. She hadn’t been using Shield, and even with training swords that thrust had hurt. Still, though, she’d been accepted!

“You alright, Saga?”

“Never better!” She accepted the hand, and he hauled her up. Her Haste had ended the moment she’d hit the ground, and she could already feel the headache forming from overusing her magic. She considered using Heal to get rid of the pain in her side, but she decided she’d rather live with it for a while rather than make the headache worse. “Thanks for training with me, I needed that.”

He nodded slowly, eyebrow raised. “I can’t believe you put up with him doing that all the time. I know he needs to prepare you for the real world, for when you travel, but it has to be humiliating to go through that in front of all of us.

She shrugged, and turned to walk with him to the weapons rack. “He’s always been a hard teacher, and I’m not graduated yet.” She pondered how the two fights had gone. He didn’t always explain his lessons to her, as he’d taught her to examine her losses and determine for herself where she’d gone wrong. In this instance, the cause was obvious. “It was my own fault, I shouldn’t have let my guard down in the middle of a fight.”

“There’s no honor in using that kind of trickery,” Jonas said, frowning while he exchanged the wooden sword for his real one.

“You say that even after how I beat you?”

“I mean, that’s just swordplay.”

Saga grinned, grabbing her real dancing saber and sheathing it at her hip. “He believes there’s no such thing as rules in a fight, as long as you survive.”

“If you say so,” Jonas said, shrugging, then placed a hand on her shoulder. “He’s been doing this long enough that I trust his judgement. Just wish he wasn’t such an AHH!”

He jerked his hand away, and a moment later she felt another familiar weight on the same shoulder.

“There you are, little jerk,” Saga said with a giggle, stroking the back of the beatweaver who now rested in the crook of her neck. “Are you okay, Jonas? Did Dapper hurt you?” Dapper had vanished while she’d been preparing for the duel with Jonas, and as usual he returned as soon as the fight was over.

“No, just startled me,” the man said, grumbling. The poor man was afraid of spiders, Saga knew, but he always tried to be polite to Dapper, and she respected him for it. “Sorry, Dapper.”

“You know he’s not a real spider,” Saga teased.

“Beatweavers are monster spiders, that’s worse.”

Dapper made a chittering sound Saga recognized as a laugh, and she gave him a questioning look. He was wearing his favorite hat today, the one that matched her red duelist cap with its white feather. She’d had it commissioned for him soon after she’d received her own from her grandfather. “What’s so funny?”

He tapped out a few words to her. Over the years, she’d learned to understand the language tapping language he used with other beatweavers. “He says he’s trying to beat his record of how high he can make you jump.”

Jonas glared at Dapper. “I only jumped the one time!”

Dapper chittered again, and Saga decided not to translate what he tapped out this time. Instead, she turned to leave. “Thanks again. I hope you have a peaceful shift.”

Jonas was a Defender, a guard who specialized in protecting the city from criminals and rogue monsters. He didn’t investigate crimes, that was an Investigator’s work, a Defender just protected the people and stopped crimes in process, in that order. He nodded his thanks to her. “Walk you back to the Academy? I’m meeting my patrol at the gate.”

She nodded, and they turned to walk. As they went, Dapper tapped again, and she glared sharply at him. “He did not!”

Jonas raised an eyebrow. “What did he say now?”

“He says Master Dorrin beat me faster than I beat you, the little jerk.”


Chapter 3

12 February 2025

After parting with Jonas at the gate, Saga made her way inside. The Keepers’ Academy was a large building, supposedly the first permanent structure built in Beacon’s Ridge, though that story had always felt off to her. As a child, she and Epic had discovered underground tunnels running beneath the Academy, though they all seemed to end abruptly. Surely the tunnels were there first?

She walked the long stone halls, weaving her way through and around the throngs of students, teachers, and other visitors going about their business. This place was busy at all hours of the night, though the younger students had a curfew. She had fond memories of sneaking out in her younger days, but after reaching adulthood two years prior she was now free to come and go as she pleased, so long as she attended her classes and followed her mentor’s instruction.

She arrived at said mentor’s office door and knocked twice. Sure, he’d told her to come, but it wouldn’t do to barge in unannounced. The last thing she needed was to make him more upset, especially since he could still cancel her trial if he felt so inclined. “Enter,” came his voice through the door, and she obeyed.

Master Dorrin sat behind his desk reading a letter, his brow furrowed. He always seemed out of place in this environment, the simple but comfortable office furnished with a desk, two chairs before it, and several bookshelves crammed with books and notes. Saga wondered briefly if every office came with the bookshelves already filled, as she’d never seen him read any of them.

“Sit.” The command came suddenly after she stood for a few minutes, though it was clear from his tone that he was distracted. She sat in one of the chairs gratefully and waited for him to finish, but when he got to the bottom of the letter, he simply folded it, grabbed another from the pile to his left, and began reading that one. She sighed internally, though she didn’t dare externalize her frustration. As before, she knew when she was being taught a lesson; he’d been made to wait, and now so would she.

Dapper tapped out a rhythm on her shoulder. It wasn’t a message this time, he was just bored, but he wouldn’t leave her for an important moment like this. She smiled appreciatively at him, and he chittered quietly in response.

Master Dorrin went through two more letters before he grunted, folded up the last one, then clasped his hands before him, looking up at her. “Apprentice,” he began, his tone formal, “you’ve been selected to take a Journeyman Trial this year.” She opened her mouth excitedly to reply, but he raised a hand to silence her before continuing. “Don’t be mistaken, I still don’t think you’re ready, but the Headmaster insisted, and so we’ve reached a compromise.

“In a typical Trial, an apprentice bard travels to a nearby village, collects a simple piece of information, then returns to add it to our collection, therefore proving that they can perform a bard’s basic functions. If the apprentice has a Passion that allows them self-defense, we may stage a confrontation to force them to prove their combat prowess as well. Otherwise, they’re sent with several apprentice guards as part of their own Journeyman Trials.”

Saga nodded, though she’d deflated when he mentioned his doubts. “I understand. What compromise have you reached?” Her Passion, Dancing, was one of the martial disciplines that would have her face a staged fight. Maybe he was going to send her with a guard after all? Did he think she wasn’t ready for combat? She stilled her mind, knowing she wouldn’t get anywhere from guessing. Patience, she thought to herself. He already said you get to take the Trial, you’re almost there.

“I’m going with you.”

She blinked. “Beg pardon?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “I don’t recall you taking a blow to the head during your match with young Jonas earlier. Which of the four words did you miss the meaning of?”

She frowned. He’d always been like this with her, tough, bordering on insulting, and she’d learned to roll with it. “I’m sorry, Master, I’m just surprised that you’re taking the time from your busy schedule to accompany me on such a simple errand.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t flower your words with me, Apprentice. Say what you mean.”

Fine, then. “Why in dragons’ damnation are you coming with me? I don’t need my hand held, and I won’t be proving anything to anyone if you’re holding my hand the entire way.”

“Because I have my own task to fulfill in the village where you’re headed.” He watched her for a reaction, but she didn’t dare give one. “That, and your task isn’t quite as simple as collecting a letter or song and coming right back.”

She raised both eyebrows. She’d only rarely heard of this before. Sometimes, apprentices would be given an actual objective to complete on their Trial, a problem to solve, though no one could figure out why that was other than that every apprentice it happened to was considered to be exceptional in their studies. She wasn’t the worst student, but given how he’d treated her during her studies she’d always assumed her proficiency had left something to be desired.

Seeing her reaction, his face twisted, and she thought she saw him holding back a smile. “Dove’s Landing is a logging village in the forest to our east. The forest there is a great source of lumber for Beacon’s Ridge’s craftsmen, but a few days ago shipments ceased. It’s not the end of the world, mind you, we have other sources, but the lumber from that village is well-regarded, and it’s in our interests to discover why they’ve stopped supplying us. You and I will travel to Dove’s Landing, where you will work with the people of that village to determine the problem and, if possible, solve it. If it is outside of your control, your instructions are to return to Beacon’s Ridge with information as to the nature of the problem so that it may be addressed appropriately.”

She nodded. This seemed simple enough, even if it was more than she’d expected. “Yes, Master. What will you be doing?”

He pointed at her. “My mission is none of your concern. All you need to know is that I’ll be collecting additional information myself, then continuing east into Balorn. I will support you in combat on the way to Dove’s Landing, but any dealings with the villagers in relation to your Trial will be left to you, and we will part when you are ready to return to the city.”

Saga considered his words. In the context of a normal trial, he’d be her assigned guard, but she was perfectly capable of defending herself in a fight, especially a staged one meant to demonstrate her skill. “Master, are you expecting danger on the road?”

Master Dorrin frowned, but once again it almost seemed as if he was suppressing a smile. “Why do you ask? Does it change your objective?”

“Well, I can’t think of another reason why you’d insist on coming with me. We don’t have to travel together, and I know you’re not doing it for the companionship.”

“Oh?” His eyebrow raised, and he now seemed more openly amused.

“Well, it’s no secret you’re not overly fond of me, Master,” she explained, confused by his expression. “I figured out early on that you’re hard on me because you hope I’ll quit, but I also know you’re professional enough to not try to sabotage my trial intentionally, so the only reason I can think of why you’d come with me is you think I’ll need you, and the only sensible reason for that is if you’re expecting real danger.”

She finished her explanation and took a breath, waiting for him to chastise her. Normally when she asked for clarification, he brushed her off and expected her to figure it out, but sometimes when she did and voiced her thoughts to him, he assigned her extra training for being “impudent”. She barely even understood what that meant, she was a Dancer, not a Wordsmith! The man was a walking contradiction, and it always frustrated her that she never seemed to know exactly what he wanted from her.

The harsh rebuke she expected didn’t come. She met his eyes, and there was something there, a glimmer of some emotion she didn’t recognize in him. He nodded slightly, she thought, but then his face hardened into its usual frown. “There have been reports of banditry in the area, encroaching towards our territory from Balorn’s lands. This task needs to be completed, but it’s both too dangerous for a typical apprentice but too simple for a full bard. This seemed like the ideal solution. Does that satisfy your curiosity, Apprentice?”

Saga nodded, grateful for his unexpectedly helpful response. He’d been off this entire conversation, but she wasn’t sure why. Was it another trick, a way to get her to lower her guard around him so he could punish her for slipping up somehow? No, this is different, she thought. Something is changing. She didn’t dare ask about it or otherwise point it out, though, lest she lose any of her theoretical progress with him.

“When do we depart?” she asked instead. “Today?” Apprentices who’d been given a Journeyman Trial normally found out in the early morning and left just after lunch, spent the night at their destination, and returned the next day, but it was already late morning.

Master Dorrin shook his head. “No. You will have to prepare for a longer journey than you likely expected. It will take at least two days to reach Dove’s Landing, most likely another day figuring out what’s going on there, then another two to return. In total, pack for at least a five day trip, including rations. We leave tomorrow morning.”

Saga resisted making a face. Field rations weren’t terrible, but she preferred cooked food. Fortunately, she had a spell in her arsenal that would help her hunt for small game if the opportunity arose. She rose from her seat, already planning on what to add to her pack. An extra change of clothes would definitely come in handy, and while she’d planned on leaving her wooden flute here at home, multiple days of travel would probably provide plenty of time to practice. Her Master had drilled into her that one could always be doing two things, even if one of them was walking.

“Saga,” Master Dorrin’s voice cut through her thoughts as she made her way to the door. She winced, realizing he hadn’t dismissed her, and turned. To her surprise, his face was neutral rather than annoyed. “I forgot to mention, the Headmaster knows we’re leaving in the morning, and he asked me to tell you he’d be coming for dinner tonight. Make sure you let your family know you’ll be gone for a while.”

Saga nodded, excited by the news. She hadn’t seen Grandpapa in days! “Yes, Master. May I be excused?”

Master Dorrin nodded, already having turned his attention back to the papers in front of him. “Yes, yes, off with you. Beacon’s Gate, dawn.”

She bowed, turned, and had to force herself to walk out the door rather than run. She had so much to tell her family and friends! She’d have to go tell her parents, of course, and Epic would probably somewhere near them. Arty, too, if she could find him. Miss Lessa would be pleased to hear Grandpapa was coming for dinner!

The thought of food made her stomach rumble, and she realized it was nearly highsun. Counting her impromptu training session with Master Dorrin, she’d been in, what, four practice duels this morning? Five? The hunger was beginning to catch up to her, so she decided to head home first to get lunch. After that, she’d find her family, give them the news, check in with Arty—he’d want to know too—then pack for her trip.

Her plans made, Saga headed for the Shapers’ Forge.


Chapter 4

12 February 2025

As soon as she passed out of the Academy gates, Saga activated Haste. She felt the wind surround her once more, pushing her forward, and she smiled. Her body felt lighter, and she felt like she could run across the world if she wanted. Today, she settled for running across the city.

She headed south from the Gates, sticking to one of the spokes of the wheel that made up the city’s main streets rather than duck and dive through the alleys. The main streets were busier, of course, but there was also more room to avoid running into wagons or pedestrians. Using Haste to navigate the streets on foot wasn’t unheard of, but there wasn’t much overlap between those with the magical talent, physical stamina, and inclination to do so, and today she was the only one she saw moving as fast as she was.

It took her less than a minute to reach the Grand Ring, the large road that circled the Academy district and separated it from the outer Crafthall districts. Directly south of the Academy District was Beacon’s Gate, which contained the entrance to the city and the general market and residential areas for those who weren’t attached to any of the Crafthalls. Directly west of Beacon’s Gate sat the Shapers’ Forge, where one could find the Blacksmith and Jeweler Crafthalls and her home.

She skirted the outer edge of the Grand Ring to avoid the worst of the traffic, dodging around citizens going about their daily business. The actions felt effortless, as if she was the wind itself, and she reveled in the feeling up until she felt her foot catch something. She dropped Haste and cast Shield on instinct as she tripped, tumbled a few times, and came to a stop on her back a few yards away, groaning.

Dapper was in her vision, looking down at her from the brim of her hat in concern. “What was that?” she asked him, sitting up. The answer was immediately apparent: fruit littered the path around a market stall that had been set up to face the Grand Ring, and she could see where a stray crate had been sticking out into the walkway just enough to catch her foot. The crate was demolished, though the fruit seemed to be fine.

The stall owner, a middle-aged woman, began shouting at Saga as she climbed to her feet. “You! What are you thinking, using your magic and running around like that!? Look at the mess you made! My oranges are all ruined! They cost me a fortune, I’ll have you know!”

Saga gritted her teeth, trying not to shout back. She was the one who’d left the crate sticking into the walkway! Anyone could have tripped over it, it just so happened to be Saga. It wouldn’t do for the Craftking’s daughter to make a scene, though. A small part of her raged that she had to consider that, but that was reality.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Saga said, bowing. “I was in a hurry and grew careless. Please, allow me to help.” She stooped without waiting for a response, gathering the fruit and setting them into the remains of the crate. The fruit, she noted, was a kind of citrus Miss Lessa especially liked, a Balornic orange, with a thick rind and sour flavor she enjoyed. Saga liked it enough, but she preferred her fruit to be sweet.

“Don’t tell me you’re in a hurry! We’re all in a hurry!” the vendor continued. “That doesn’t give you the right to knock over fruit stands and trample old women!”

What does that even mean? Saga thought. You’re just standing here waiting for customers all day, and I didn’t even hit you. Her right eye itched, but she resisted both the urge to scratch at it and to reply out loud. Instead, she let the vendor continue her tirade while she worked.

“Do you know how much it cost me to get those?” the older woman demanded. She’d stopped shouting, but her tone was still harsh. “I got those straight from Balorn! The harvest was smaller than usual this year and I had to pay a premium to get them! Look at this!” She snatched a fruit from Saga’s hand and thrust it in front of her face. The outer rind had been lightly scuffed, but the fruit looked perfectly fine as far as Saga could tell. You didn’t eat the rind, anyway.

Saga scratched at her right eye, feeling her anger boil and trying to hold it down. She knew it was partially her own fault for going as fast as she had been, but this woman was making this simple accident seem like a personal slight. Just as she opened her mouth to reply harshly, she noticed something that immediately doused the fire in Saga’s eye.

The vendor had tears in her eyes. Did oranges really mean that much to her? Saga took a moment to actually take in the scene. The vendor’s clothing looked old, frayed in some spots, and most of the other fruit in her stand didn’t look particularly appetizing.

Saga chided herself mentally. Angels above, she probably spent most of her money on these oranges. I could have ruined her livelihood if I’d actually stepped on the crate instead of tripping over it.

Saga gave the fruit seller a sweeping bow, removing her hat in the same gesture to show respect. “I’m truly sorry, ma’am. Please, allow me to make it up to you somehow.” The other woman gave a short gasp in response, and Saga realized her mistake. She supposed it was too much to hope that her hair would hide her horns.

"No, I'm sorry, Lady Vance, I shouldn't have taken that tone with you."

When Saga straightened, she could still see the anger in the woman's eyes, but now it was mixed with a touch of...fear? No, not quite. People didn't fear her family. Worried, perhaps? She was uncertain what offending Saga would do to her reputation.

Saga's frown deepened as she stared at the woman, wondering why it took seeing Saga's horns to recognize her, not just her scar, but with the city being full of adventurers, she supposed she didn't really stand out in that regard. Still, she hated this. Hated what people expected of her just because she was a drake, and because she was born a Vance. The City wasn't a true monarchy, the City Council elected the Craftking from among their own number, but the title of Craftking led a noble esteem to the family, and for the years they were in power they might as well be actual royalty.

Realizing the woman was staring at her, waiting for a response, she shook her head and donned her hat. “It’s alright, ma’am. I’m the one who brought harm to your stall, and for that I’m in your debt.”

The woman’s face fell slightly, though her eyes were still hard with contained anger. “No, no, Lady Vance, it’s nothing. The fruit are all fine, see? Just a little scuff here and there, no harm done.” She smiled, but Saga could tell it was forced.

No, I’m not letting my status get me out of this, Saga thought, frustrated. This was why she always wore her hat, or at least a headband. She reached into her coin pouch and grabbed the last of her coins, some copper, a few silvers, and a single gold. Saga knew this would be overpaying for oranges, but she wanted to make it right. "I'm sorry, miss. Will this cover the cost of the oranges? I'd like to purchase them."

The woman remained silent for a moment, glaring at Saga, but eventually her eyes darted to the coins and back. "What, you think throwing money at this will make everything better?" Her false polite demeanor was gone, and Saga counted that as a win.

"What? No, I just...I owe you, for the damages and the distress." Saga kept her voice low, her eyes downcast. She’d perfected this pitiful look as a child, and it had saved her more than a few scoldings from her parents.

The woman stared at her, then sighed. "Fine, I can see that you mean it," she said, but when Saga began to reply she held up a finger. "But, I have my pride. You will pay the fair price for the oranges, and not a copper more. I won't have you throw money at me and think it will make everything better. Understand?"

Saga nodded, and the two counted out the proper coins for the oranges, which the woman promptly dumped into a large sack before handing it to Saga. She accepted it, but frowned when the stall owner didn't let go.

"Why were you running?"

Saga blinked, surprised by the question. "Beg pardon?"

The woman smiled wryly. "I'm just curious what had you in such a rush that a polite young lady like you didn't even look where you were going.

"Oh." Saga blushed. "I was accepted to take my Journeyman Trial today. I was running home to tell my family."

The woman grunted. “A bard, then. Alright, if you really want to make it up to me, pass your trial. I assume from your fancy sword you're a dancer?"

Saga raised an eyebrow. "You recognize a dancing saber?"

"I spent more than a little time watching the bards practice in the training yard in my younger days." The older woman had a twinkle in her eye. "Tell you what, promise you'll come perform for me someday and all will be forgiven."

Saga gave the woman her best smile. This was the chance she wanted, a chance to accomplish something on her own merit, without her nobility or power being a factor. "It's a promise."

The older woman nodded again. "Alright, then. Get out of here before I decide you still owe me.” Her face formed a scowl again, and Saga decided that must be her usual look.

She bowed again to the fruit seller. “Thank you for your understanding and grace, Miss. Angels bless you,” she said with all the sweetness she could muster.

The woman harrumphed, but bowed her head to Saga. “Same to you.”

Saga’s smile grew more genuine as she waved to the woman and walked away, satisfied the matter had been resolved. She was left with a few coppers and a silver, and would have to see if she could get a bit more coin from her father for her trip, but she was sure Master Dorrin would allow her to earn her keep on the road if necessary. She wondered idly what could be going on in that village that a Master Bard needed to get involved, but quickly pushed those thoughts out of her mind. She could deal with that when the time came.

For now, she had people to see.

———

Saga walked the rest of the way to her home, a modest dwelling near the Great Forge. One wouldn’t know from looking at the home that it belonged to the ruler of the city, but she knew that was the point. She took a moment to take it in, as she probably wouldn't get a chance to in the morning.

Her father earned a nice salary as the city’s Craftking so long as he held the position, but he preferred to remain in his more practical family home. It was big enough to house their entire family, including Grandpapa when he needed to get away from the Academy for a while, and the few staff they kept on hand. The outer walls were made of bricks, like most buildings in the city, with a small flight of stairs leading up to the front door and a larger entrance at ground level around the side. The only real flourish the building had to it was the wrought iron decorations adorning the walls and door, all crafted by her family.

She smiled wryly when her eyes fell on the covering she'd made for her own window, the journeyman piece that had convinced her father she had completed her apprenticeship to his satisfaction. It was designed in the shape of a rose, her favorite flower, though it was the same dull grey iron as the rest of the decorations.

She had spent long hours working on the piece, trying to bend the hot iron in just the right shape. Lorana, her mother, had offered her the use of a Redlight forge to better control the heat and make it easier to bend, but Saga had refused. She then spent the next few hours struggling with her work and wondering if maybe she should have taken her mother up on the offer, but she knew even then she wouldn’t have been able to work with the magical fire.

As a drake, she was meant to have an affinity with Redlights, a special connection, but ever since that accident almost took her eye, she could barely stand the sight of them without that crystalline flame filling her vision. Besides, she didn't want to rely on them to make her job easier, not when the whole point of this test was to show her own skill. Still, even though she'd eventually succeeded in making the piece, she couldn't help but wonder how much faster the process would have been if she'd just been able to tolerate the Redlights.

Dapper tapped her shoulder, and she shook herself out of her reverie. “Sorry, just thinking.” She smiled at him, then marched across the street, down the alley alongside her house and towards the side entrance. Miss Lessa was right where Saga thought she'd be, in the kitchen just inside the side entrance. She and the cook were working on what appeared to be the evening meal. “I’m back, Miss Lessa, and I’ve brought a gift for you!”

Miss Lessa turned to look at Saga, continuing to peel potatoes. “For me?”

Saga held up the sack and pulled out an orange. “Picked them up fresh from the market! I know how much you like them.”

"Oh, Balornic oranges? Those are hard to find lately." She finished the potato she'd been working on and came to inspect the proffered fruit, then frowned. "A little scuffed..." She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Saga. "I don't suppose you bought these purely as a gift for me?"

Saga winced. "I may have made a mess on my way here. I felt bad, so I bought the fruit to make it up to the seller.”

“I see," Miss Lessa said with a thoughtful smile, taking the sack and the orange Saga was holding. “Well, the fruit’s still perfectly fine, and I haven’t had these in a while. Thank you, Lady Saga.” She gave Saga a little hug and moved to put the fruit away. "Why are you here?"

Saga blinked. "I brought you fruit?"

Miss Lessa chuckled as she returned to peeling. "I mean, here in the house. You don’t have a rain cloud over your head, so I assume you weren’t passed up for a Trial again. Shouldn’t you be on your way to whatever village they’ve sent you to?”

Saga shrugged, taking a seat at a nearby they used for preparing food. "They assigned me to accompany Master Dorrin to a lumber village called Dove's Landing in Balorn. We leave tomorrow." She grabbed an apple from a nearby basket, but before she could take a bite, the Housewoman snatched it away and replaced it with a potato. Saga scowled, but acquiesced and joined her in peeling. "When are you going to stop calling me ‘Lady’? You don’t call Epic or my parents by their titles.”

“They don’t insist on calling me Miss, either.” Lessa was facing away from Saga, but she could hear the woman’s grin. “It makes me feel old.”

“It’s a sign of respect,” Saga replied with mock solemnity.

Miss Lessa glanced at her. “Were you recognized again?”

“The fruit seller,” Saga sighed. “Lady Vance this, Lady Vance that, the usual.”

“Tsk. It’s your own fault, you know. If you didn’t wear that hat and coat every day, maybe covered your scar somehow…”

Saga made a face. “I’m a bard, I have to look my best. All the heroes in the stories have iconic looks, like the Keepers with their long green coats. If I want to be a hero one day, I need my own look.” She stopped peeling for a moment to pose with her arms wide, though she knew the two would just think she was being silly. “Also, I can’t cover the scar. What if the makeup runs into my eye while I’m dancing?”

Miss Lessa only smiled, remaining silent.

Saga returned to peeling her potato. “I suppose I can tolerate being called a Lady, if it’s only by you, Miss Lessa.” She sighed dramatically before switching vegetables, grabbing a carrot from its pile and beginning to peel and clean it.

Alder, the cook, shot her a look over his shoulder and shook his head. The man hadn’t been there as long as Miss Lessa, but he’d been there long enough to be used to their antics. He was as much a member of the family as Miss Lessa was, and unlike the Housewoman, didn't call Saga by her title. That was one of the reasons she liked him. “Saga, are you going to see your parents?" the cook asked, turning back to his pot.

"That was the plan. Have you sent lunch to the Forge yet?" Saga's stomach rumbled at the thought of food. Her Haste spell was fun, but it worked up an appetite.

“Not yet. If I make some sandwiches, would you be so kind as to run them out to your parents?” Alder’s tone was one of amusement, and Saga realized the man had planned this so he wouldn’t have to go himself. “I’ll make an extra for your brother, too, if he’s there.”

Saga nodded in response, a wry smile on her face. “Well, as I’m headed that way after all, I suppose I can deign to do our favorite cook a favor in exchange for a sandwich for myself.”

Alder laughed and set to work. Meanwhile, Dapper hopped down onto the table and gestured at Saga with his front legs, a signal for her to hold her hand out so he could tap a message to her. She obliged, then nodded her understanding to him. He would search the house for a meal, then catch up to her later. She knew he’d leave one of his threads attached to her so he could find her later, no matter how far away she went. His silk had several odd properties, and no one she asked seemed to know anything about them, but they’d certainly come in handy over the years.

She gave him a wave, which he returned before leaping away. His knack for vanishing was uncanny; he could be in plain view one second, but then completely disappear with a single jump. Saga had always admired that little trick of his.

She finished her pile of carrots just as Alder brought her a basket with several sandwiches inside. “Here you go. Give your parents our regards, and we’ll see you for dinner.”

Saga had grabbed the basket and was already on the way to the door when she stopped. “Oh, I almost forgot, Grandpapa will be joining us for dinner tonight. I’m sure he’s looking forward to your porridge, Miss Lessa, as usual.”

Miss Lessa and Alder exchanged a look, the former’s annoyed and the latter’s saying ‘I told you so’. “I’ll bet he wants extra raisins, even.” Lessa sighed. “Alright, I’ll get started on it.”

“Thanks, see you tonight!” Saga called, and headed out the door.


Chapter 5

12 February 2025

The Shapers’ Forge was swarming with people, which was normal for this time of day. Saga deftly weaved her way through crowds of blacksmiths, goldsmiths, apprentices, and haulers going about their business. She practically grew up here, and knew this place and these people as well as she knew her own bedroom.

The specific area she was heading for, the Great Forge, was a cluster of Redlight forges at the center of the Shapers’ Forge, and the largest of them was reserved for use by the Blacksmith Councilor and those granted access by him. It wasn’t that it was any better than the other Redlight and normal forges around, but its central location and decorations, modest though they were, made it a matter of tradition. The Blacksmith Councilor was considered one of the best blacksmiths in the city, and that honor earned them the right to the Great Forge. It just so happened that the Blacksmith Councilor, at the moment, also happened to be the Craftking.

Carver Vance was an imposing man with the broad build of a lifetime smith, a scarred face and dark hair. He was wearing a blacksmith’s apron over his clothes, and a pair of long thick gloves to protect his hands. Most smiths let the various accidents and sparks of fire and metal scar their hands, but her father preferred to wear proper protection. He insisted on his wife and children doing the same, and so Saga herself had no real scars from her years as an apprentice. Well, except for one, but she hadn’t technically been an apprentice yet.

Her father was focused on his work, oblivious to his surroundings. His hammer was a masterwork, a large piece decorated with silver filigree in the shape of stylized flames. Every time he struck with it, the heat from the metal he was working on was absorbed into the flame pattern, making it glow. If you watched it long enough, the flames almost seemed to ripple as if they were real. He had a journeyman she recognized but couldn’t name assisting him while he put hammer to steel. He was working on a long bar, with several others sitting in the fire. That kind of simple part could become any number of things, and she couldn’t even begin to guess what he was making.

The telltale glow of Redsong energy bathed the two men as they worked, and Saga made sure not to look directly at the Redlight in the forge. Instead, she positioned her father between the forge and herself, blocking her view. The journeyman spotted Saga approaching and knocked on the base of the anvil with a small hammer to get her father’s attention. Papa looked up at the journeyman, then followed his gaze. His usual frown softened when he spotted his daughter, and disappeared completely when he saw the basket she was carrying. “That explains all the ruckus my stomach is making, growling louder than a snarewolf.”

He set aside the piece he’d been working on and walked over to hug his daughter, then pulled back to search her eyes. “Why are you still here?”

Saga snorted. “Thanks, Papa. I’m glad to know I’m still welcome here.”

He grimaced. “Not like that. Tale told me you were chosen. Thought you’d be gone.”

“Dearest Father, are you so eager to be rid of me?” she asked sweetly.

He gave her a confused look for a moment, opened his mouth to protest, then sighed. “You tease me.”

“I do.” She hugged him again and laughed. “We’re not leaving till tomorrow. I wanted to come let you all know, and Alder sent me with lunch.”

“That man deserves a raise.”

“For dodging work?”

“For working efficiently. No need for him to do it if you were already coming.” Papa was a pragmatic man, and valued efficiency and practicality in those around him. He wasn’t particularly well spoken, he wasn’t a bard like his father-in-law, but he was much more intelligent than he let on. She thought that was what made him an excellent Craftking. He kept things simple, but didn’t allow himself to be confused or swept away by complicated political matters.

She sniffed. “And yet, when I convinced Epic to do my chores I was confined to my room for the rest of the day.”

He scowled up at her. “That was different. Alder uses the time he saves wisely, to perform other tasks. You were off playing.”

“I paid him for it, at least,” she said, smiling sheepishly.

“That wasn’t the point, young lady, and you know it.” The lively voice of Saga’s mother caught her off guard, and she whirled. Mama was standing behind her with her arms crossed, fixing Saga with a disapproving stare. “The point of those chores was to build discipline, not to see how well you can talk others into doing what you want.”

Lorana Vance was a tall woman, with blonde hair kept in a loose bun while she was working. Her horns, elegantly curved and a radiant golden color, arched vertically backwards from just above and ahead of her ears like Saga’s, but extended past the back of her head. She was dressed similarly to her husband, wearing a blacksmith’s apron over a red tunic dappled with ash and scorch marks.

Saga’s smile faded. She knew her mother was immune to her charms. “I know, Mama, I’m sorry. That was over a decade ago, and I haven’t done it since, right?”

Her mother snorted, then smiled broadly. “Right, ‘cause you fear what would happen should you try it again. What brings you to the Forge?” Saga explained to her mother about what had happened that morning. “I see,” Lorana said when she was done. “Your grandfather told us you’d been chosen, but he didn’t tell us you’d be going with someone.”

Saga took a sandwich from her basket and offered it to her mother. “Master Dorrin isn’t so bad, I guess. Just wish it didn’t feel like he had something against me personally.”

Her mother and father shared a look but said nothing. She looked back and forth between them, waiting for one of them to speak, then grew impatient. "I swear, you two are mind readers."

Mama snorted again. “I don’t need to read minds, Saga. Your father’s easy enough for me to read already.” Carver grumbled, and his wife stuck her tongue out at him playfully.

Saga rolled her eyes. “No flirting in the Forge, you two. Or, at least, not around me.” She didn’t bother asking for an explanation. They were the kind of people who would tell you something if they wanted you to know it. Asking them directly would get nothing. “Where’s Epic? There’s a sandwich for him, too, if he’s here.”

Mama hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “I was helping him with his project at another forge. He’s over that way if you want to see him.” She thought for a moment. “In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s near a stopping point. Tell him to meet us at the usual place and we’ll all eat together.”

Saga nodded and headed off in the direction her mother had pointed. It didn’t take her long to find her brother at another forge, hard at work on what appeared to be a gauntlet. It gave off the subtle glow of Redsong energy as he pounded away at it, shaping it. Her gaze drifted to the Redlight in the forge, the source of the energy, and the world froze as she stared at it.

A beautiful red crystal, swirling and flowing gracefully like fire, whispering to her. A shout, and an explosion. Fire filled her vision, and for a moment, she was a little girl again. Her eye burned, and someone was holding her. A scream filled her throat but wouldn’t come out.

“Saga?” In an instant, the world rushed back to her, and she found Epic facing her, looking concerned. “You okay?“

“Sorry, I’m fine,” she lied. She was breathing heavily, recovering from what just happened. “I got distracted for a second there.”

“You sure? Looked like you were about to pass out.” He grinned. He had black hair covered by his favorite dark green bandana, light brown eyes, and was almost as tall as she was. While she’d only completed her blacksmith training up to the journeyman level before beginning her lessons at the Keepers’ Academy, he’d stayed on under their parents and worked towards becoming a master blacksmith himself. He hadn’t reached that level yet, but she’d heard he was making progress on his masterwork.

He had some magical talent, despite not being a drake like her and their mother, and he used it to create enchanted armor. He had a knack for knowing just what to say to get the redlights to do exactly what he wanted, though he needed their mother’s help to actually speak to the magical fires. He glanced at the redlight as he stood, and the Redsong energy faded from the gauntlet he was working on as it left the immediate vicinity of the forge. The redlight itself was twisting and turning lazily in the forge without explicit directions to follow, though Epic didn’t need it to hear him if he was just making redsteel. “Why are you here?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Saga growled, suddenly furious, but she took a deep breath. The red fire that had begun to flicker in her right eye went out, and she put on a smile. “Sorry, just feels like everyone can’t wait for me to leave or something. My trial will take me farther than usual, so I’ve been given the rest of the day to prepare.” She held up the basket she’d brought. “I grabbed food on the way, Mama and Papa want us to meet them for lunch.”

His face lit up. “The usual place?” When she nodded, he turned and began to clean up his workspace. “I’ll be right there.”

“I can wait for you, if you want.”

“Nah. Won’t take long, be right behind you.”

She nodded, gave him a pat on the shoulder, and made her way out of the Great Forge.

While Beacon’s Ridge was naturally defended by the volcanic caldera it sat in, it still had a wall along the southern perimeter. The western end of the wall ended at the border of the Shapers’ Forge and its northern neighbor, the Cutters’ yard, and the walltop plaza there was a popular meeting place. Saga and her family had always enjoyed taking meals there, especially together.

Saga finished climbing the long stairs up to the top of the wall and made her way towards the plaza. As she drew close to the meeting place, she heard heavy footsteps behind her. She moved slightly to the side as her brother pulled up next to her and matched her pace. He was out of breath, and she grinned.

“You’re getting out of shape. I thought you’ve been training with the Guards?”

He glowered at her. “I don’t have time to run laps around the city wall. I just stick around for the self-defense training.” He patted the metal plate armor covering his legs. “Once it's finished, I won't have to worry about stamina.” He paused. “If it works, I mean.”

“It will.” She gave him a bright smile. “You’re a genius with this stuff, Epic! Angels above, your work let Captain Fettler walk again!”

Epic really was a prodigy in his field, and he’d discovered a novel way of enchanting armor to move on its own. Master enchanters had already improved on his work, of course, but most still credited him with the original idea. It was still rare to find pieces that used that enchantment, as it took even experienced enchanters a lot of time, Will, and patience with the Redlights to achieve the effect. Still though, the fact that people who were paralyzed or maimed even beyond magical healing now had a chance to walk again was something to be proud of, as far as Saga was concerned.

He blushed and waved off her comments. “I just want to make something useful so I can protect people, like Father did.” He looked at her again. “Maybe I’ll be able to join you on your travels. You’re useless without me, after all.”

He flinched when she punched him in the shoulder, though they both laughed. “‘Useless’, huh? You sure you’re not just going to miss your big sister while she’s off becoming famous?” She grinned again. The two had always been close, and when she’d gone off to the Academy, she ended up treasuring the little time they spent together all the more.

“I’m not sure you’ll survive long enough to become famous, the way that mouth of yours gets you into trouble,” Epic said, snickering.

She gaped at him incredulously. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Epic laughed and shook his head. “You’re going to say the wrong thing to the wrong person at some point and be run out of town. Or end up on the wrong end of a sword.”

She rolled her eyes as they approached the plaza. “Please, I can be diplomatic. That’s part of a bard’s job.”

“Sure.”

She punched his shoulder again as they arrived at their usual place. Their parents had already claimed a table and were talking softly, the still-wrapped sandwiches sitting in front of them. They both looked up as their children sat at the table. Saga pulled the last two sandwiches out of the basket, handed one to her brother, then began to eat.

The family ate together for a time, enjoying Alders’ handiwork, and it was some time before Mama finally broke the silence. “So, what can you tell us about your trial?”

“I’m going with Master Dorrin to a village called Dove’s Landing,” she said between bites, “I’ll be gone for most of a week.”

“You don’t get to go solo?” Epic replied, shocked.

“That’s what I said!” Saga couldn’t help but pout. The more complicated trial should be a badge of honor, but she couldn’t help but feel like she was going to be babysat the entire time. “Apparently he doesn’t think I’m ready for the trial, and this was the only way he’d approve of it.”

Their parents shared a look again, but this time Mama spoke, meeting Saga’s eyes. “I wouldn’t judge him so harshly. He’s a good teacher, and Papa trusts him. I also don’t believe he’d be bringing you with him if he really didn’t think you were ready.”

Lorana Vance was a people person, with greater insight than her husband on dealing with them. She also didn’t allow her children to overwhelm or charm their father to get their way. She usually saw more of a person than anyone else, so Saga trusted her judgement and nodded, but continued to sulk as she ate her sandwich.

Alder had thrown together a good lunch for the little time it took him. Dried meat, a local cheese Papa especially liked, and some leafy greens were put between two halves of a roll. Simple, but nutritious and convenient. One by one they finished their food and began chatting idly with each other. Mama and Papa shared updates on Epic’s enchanting work, Papa explained to Saga what he’d been working on - a fancy grate for a Councillor’s window, apparently - and Saga herself gave them the full story of what had happened that morning—minus the encounter with the fruit seller—and where she and Master Dorrin were going the next day.

Papa nodded. “Dove’s Landing is a steady source of good wood. Missing shipments are bad news. Glad Master Dorrin is going to investigate.” He shot his daughter an apologetic glance. “And you, of course.”

“He says I’m to do the talking. I don’t know much about economics outside of our basic Academy lessons, so hopefully that’s not the problem.” Saga took a drink from her canteen and stared out over the farmland beyond the walls. It was just the right time of day for Beacon Falls to be lit up, and even after growing up here for years, the sight of the twin falls becoming pillars of light was still beautiful. “I’m not sure what else it could be, though.”

“Maybe it’s the bandits he mentioned? They’ve been increasing in number for years, ever since the plague.” Mama said, giving Papa a concerned look.

His brow furrowed. “It’s always possible. Balorn’s been regaining their strength, but not fast enough. Places like Dove’s Landing are too far from their capital for regular patrols. They need permanent guards.” He thought silently for a moment, then looked at Saga. “I’m going to give you a letter to take with you. We can loan them some of our Guards until King Frederick can take care of them himself. To that end, I’ll send a message directly to him informing him of the situation and offering our support if needed.” He looked to his wife, grinning. “We can help our friends next door and turn a profit as well.”

She nodded her agreement. “I think it’ll benefit everyone except the bandits, love. An excellent idea.”

Saga ignored the two as they talked, and reclined in her chair. She knew all this talk of work was important, but she’d hoped to spend her last day resting, or at least preparing for the trip. She checked the sun’s position, then looked at her brother. “Have you seen Arty?”

“He was chosen to go to the Red City this morning,” Epic said absently, fiddling with a strap on his greaves. “When I talked to him he was planning on leaving in the morning, and he was working on one of his devices to pass the time. He’s probably still at the Sanctum.”

The Menders’ Sanctum was both the city’s hospital and the training grounds for its alchemists and mages. Arty had been friends with Saga and her brother since they were all children, and she’d attended a lot of the same magical study classes with him. Saga mentally kicked herself for forgetting that his trial announcement was also due this morning, but she was happy for him. Going to Merallo to take his journeyman exam and continue his studies had been his dream since he learned of the college there, and he’d worked hard to earn the opportunity.

She knew she had to visit him today, before they both left in the morning. It would probably be years before they had the chance to see each other again. She stood and wished her family well, then remembered something. “Oh, Grandpapa will be joining us for dinner tonight, or so he says.”

Her mother’s face lit up. “It’s been weeks! I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me, too. Been meaning to talk to him about something.” Papa rumbled, smiling at his wife. “I promise not to make his visit all business, Lore.”

Mama snorted, and Saga fought the urge to do the same. Instead, she smiled and waved once more, then turned to leave. Her eyes fell on her brother, who had finished his meal and was staring silently across the caldera at the Falls. She was struck by the sudden impression that he was avoiding looking at her, but she decided not to say anything for now. Frowning, she walked the southern wall, heading for the Menders’ Sanctum.

What’s gotten into him?


Chapter 6

12 February 2025

With the early afternoon traffic in full swing, it took Saga the better part of an hour to make her way to her destination near the other end of the wall. The Menders’ Sanctum was a tall tower, second only to the Academy in size. It seemed exceptionally wide as well, though Saga knew this was only to accommodate the wide gentle steps and ramps connecting most of the lower floors. The hospital was here, and they didn’t want to worry about straining patients or slowing down the transfer of materials between floors in case of an emergency. After the first few floors, the tower thinned where normal staircases began to link the floors.

Saga found her way to one of the floors just above the hospital, which served as the living quarters for residents of the tower. Though the inside of the tower was a labyrinth to the uninitiated, she’d been here enough to know where his room was, and she gave his door a loud knock when she arrived. “City Guard, you’re under investigation for being dull,” she droned, dropping her voice to sound more gruff and masculine. “Come quietly, or I’ll be forced to drag you into natural sunlight.”

There was a commotion inside as something fell over, and she heard Arty sigh. “You’ll never catch me alive, Saga.” She frowned. He’d given her his usual response, but it seemed his heart wasn’t in it.

She opened the door and peeked her head in, making sure not to crush her hat. Dapper, who’d found his way back to her on the way to Arty’s room, also peered in from atop her shoulder, chittering. “Are you okay, Arty? What was that sound?”

“I’m fine.” Bartalan Fox was a slight young man with reddish brown hair and freckles. His room, while small enough to be considered cozy, still managed to house a bed, a workbench, a bookshelf, a storage chest, and, most impressively, his brain. It also currently contained a veritable mess of papers and books scattered all over the floor.

A small pile of clear quartz crystals sat on his workbench, and an odd but familiar implement rested was on the floor among the usual clutter of books and loose paper. He glanced at her, sighed, and stooped to pick up the fallen object, looking it over. “Just hoping to get this done before I leave tomorrow.”

She opened the door the rest of the way and leaned against the doorframe, arms folded and smirking. “Aren’t you supposed to leave your quarters clean while you’re gone?”

He looked at her, blinked, then looked down at the mess as if noticing it for the first time. “That’s weird. It was clean this morning.” He set the device on the worktable with a loud thump, making the pile of crystals rattle, and knelt to pick up the mess.

“And then your trip got delayed a day and you tried to get some last minute work in before then, instead of relaxing or preparing for the trip like you should be doing.” She wasn’t usually stern, but she had to be with Arty or he’d forget his own head. She entered the room fully and began helping him clean up. Dapper got in on it, too, dragging out of the way papers and books to where the humans could easily reach them.

He snorted. “This is preparing for the trip. This device should make our caravan safer on the road.”

She perked up at this, shooting a glance at the device on the worktable. “You’re working on the shield? Do you think you’ll finish it?” He raised an eyebrow at her, and she amended, “On time?”

Arty beamed, and she could feel it in him, that same manic energy he always got when working on a project. “Yes! And maybe. I’m close to figuring out how to use a wind crystal to project the shield, but I’m still working on the connection. Copper works for a while but it burns out if it’s not thick enough, and I need a bigger Redlight to power it for more than a few seconds.” He accepted the last sheet of paper from Dapper and gave him a formal bow. “Thank you, kind sir.”

“He says he’s happy to help a fellow scholar,” Saga translated for her little friend, but her mind was whirling. This was big. Trained mages like the two of them could learn to project a shield around themselves with wind magic or harden their bodies with earth magic. If Arty’s device worked, it would allow normal people to do the same. “So, what’s the problem? Why not just ask for a bigger light and make thicker strands of copper?”

“Lack of data, really.” He sighed. “People have looked at recreating the power of mages before, but usually as a curiosity. With mages and drakes around, no one really thinks further research was necessary. They don’t see the value in granting me more resources than they already have for an oddity.” Staring down at the device, he grimaced.. Saga could see where some strands of copper had been attached at various points and apparently burned from excess heat.

“But you think it is.” It wasn’t a question. Saga knew her friend.

“Exactly. Mages hold a lot of power, and drakes even more. Why should we have this basic method of self defense when normal people can’t? I want to even the playing field, help everyone protect themselves, and for that, we need to learn how to harness magical energy without mages or drakes.”

Saga furrowed her brow in concentration. “You’re not just talking about the shield anymore.”

He smiled sheepishly at her. “No, sorry, that was a tangent. I want to find an alternate source of Redsong energy in the future so we don’t need to rely on dragons and drakes to power them. No offense.”

“None taken. Do you have any ideas? And what are you going to do about the materials?”

“Not really, and I don’t know. When I get to Merallo I should have better access to supplies for research, and I can ask if anyone else has looked at creating or replacing Redlights. Neither of those will help on the trip, though.”

Saga scratched at her eye while looking over the device. It looked a little different from the last time he’d shown it to her. “How does this thing work again?”

He picked it up and began pointing to various parts of it as he explained their function. It was a stone disc, with a hole in the center and a smaller one near the top, as if at the northern point on a compass. “A Redlight lantern goes in the center hole, and a wind crystal can be placed in this one.” At each of the eastern, western, and southern points was a small peg that appeared to be where he connected the copper strands, or wire, as he’d called it last time. One of the strands was intact and connected to a second smaller disc, this one made of copper and the same size as the hole in the stone disc.

“The wires connect these three studs to this ring, which sits around the Redlight lantern.” All that remained of the other two wires were burnt and melted copper stubs, but there was copper inlay connecting the three studs and running along the disc to form a ring around the northern circle. “When the Redlight lantern is placed in the correct spot and this ring is placed around it, the wires conduct the energy over to the ring around the crystal, and the presence of Redsong energy makes the crystal give off wind.

“I learned during my studies that if a mage invests their Will into the crystal when it’s made, they can control what the wind does when activated. This one will create a shield covering a little over two meters in every direction. It won’t push people away when it’s made, but it’ll stop anything from entering once it’s up.”

Saga admired the device. She thought she could follow how it worked, but there were likely fine details that were escaping her. “Wait, if you had to cast the spell yourself in order to make the crystal, why not just use the spell tomorrow?”

He shook his head. “It took everything I had to make a shield that big, and I couldn’t hold it for long. That’s another benefit of having a device like this instead of having a few mages on hand, you don’t have to worry about them running out of Will.”

“Just Redsong?”

“Just Redsong.” He sighed. “Again, that’s a problem for later. If I can get a bigger Redlight in a lantern and some thicker wire, I should be able to it on the way, then I can arrive with a working prototype in hand. They’ll have to make me an official journeyman then.”

“Wait, so this is just to skip the exam?” Saga quirked an eyebrow at him.

He set the device down quickly and held up his hands in protest. “No, no! I’ll still have to take the exam, but you also have to present a piece of research when you arrive or they’ll make you study further until you can make something. I can skip that part if this works.”

Saga nodded and sat on the edge of his bed, stroking Dapper on her shoulder. “Shouldn’t you be resting, though? Merallo is a long trip, isn’t it? I know you want to have this done, but what happens if you need to use it and you’re too exhausted to use it yourself or show someone else how?”

He sat next to her. “I’m just going to be sitting in a cart the entire way, I’ll be fine. I just need those materials and I can have it ready in five minutes.” He gave her a long look, his blue eyes pleading, and she suddenly realized what he was getting at. She kicked herself mentally for not realizing it sooner.

“Alright, I’ll ask Papa,” she began, sighing, but before she could finish Arty had thrown his arms around her, hugging her tight. She smiled and returned the hug despite herself. After a moment, she pulled away and shot him a devilish grin. “Embracing a young lady in your private quarters, Bartalan?” she teased. “With the door open, even? It’s indecent, think of the scandal if we’re caught!”

His face turned almost as red as his hair, and he pulled back, struggling to speak. She held up a finger to stop him, laughing. “Alright, alright, I’ll help you. But!” She shifted the finger to point at him, almost touching his nose. “You’re coming with me. Papa will want to see if this works.”

The young man gave her a sullen look, still blushing slightly. “That’s not fair. Why do I have to go?”

She smiled sweetly. “My parents haven’t seen you in ages, they’d love to see you around more. Besides, you did just share an intimate moment with their favorite daughter. We should really tell them about us.”

Seeing his blush return at her sarcastic remark, she almost felt bad for him. Almost. They’d never showed any particular romantic interest in each other over the years. They were practically siblings the way they’d grown up together. Still, she had to tease him now and then. He was cute when he blushed like that.

He lowered his head, covering his face in his hands and groaning. “Do I have to?”

“No, but you don’t have to finish your shield, either.” She thought for a moment, then suddenly sat up straight, her smile widening. “You can join us for dinner!”

Arty groaned again.


Chapter 7

12 February 2025

“Bart! It’s so good to see you!” Mama pulled the young man into a hug with a laugh. “You never come by to see us anymore! Is everything alright at the Sanctum? Do you need anything? You know you can always stay here, we have plenty of room.”

Arty managed to pull away from the hug only to have Papa clasp his hands on his shoulders. “Glad to have you, Bartalan. Staying for dinner?”

Saga watched all this with amusement, standing back to let her parents work their magic. Arty was orphaned during the plague when she was a barely old enough to walk, the same plague that had almost claimed her mother and unborn brother. After Saga met Arty by chance as a child, they became fast friends. Epic and her parents treated him like family as well, with Mama in particular offering to adopt him formally.

Arty had politely declined, saying he was happy staying at the orphanage in the Sanctum as he got to help the mages sometimes. Even still, Saga’s parents always made him feel welcome when he came by. An acquaintance had mentioned to Saga once that they seemed almost happier to see him than their own children, but Saga knew it was just them trying to make sure he felt like he had a family, even if not officially.

“Please, Master Lorana, if you must use an informal name, please call me Arty.”

“Of course, Bart! I mean, Arty!” Saga’s mother knew his preferred name full well, but, like Saga’s own exchange with him at his door, this was something of a ritual between the two.

Miss Lessa came into the entry chamber to check on the commotion and beamed when she saw the young guest. “Mister Fox! Can we expect you for dinner? We can easily make another seat.”

Arty opened his mouth to object, but Saga cut in. “Yes, Miss Lessa, thank you. He hasn’t eaten all day.”

“Probably spent all day working on his gadgets, the fool boy. I’ll get him fed.”

Arty stared at each of the adults and Saga in turn, mouth agape, before surrendering. “I suppose I should eat something...”

Papa finally took his hands off of Arty’s shoulder and gave a rare laugh. “Yes, you should. Dinner is soon, but not yet. Join us?” The large man led everyone into the sitting room.

The Hearthwoman had a fire going to stave off the early spring chill, and Saga was especially happy to see fresh tea on the long, low table. She helped herself as everyone settled into the two couches on either side of the table.

“So, what brings you by?” Saga’s father had gotten straight to business. He complained to his family about his duties as Craftking and Blacksmith Councilor, but moments like this reminded her he was well-suited to the job. “It’s good to see you, of course, but you need help with something.” It wasn’t a question.

Papa’s look wasn’t harsh, it was actually friendly by his standards, but Arty withered under it all the same. “Well, King Va-”, he began, but Papa cut him off with a sharp gesture.

“Enough of that. I tolerate it at the Council, but in my own home, with family,” he stressed the word, holding the young man’s eyes, “you call me Carver. Master Carver if you need to be polite, but I ask you to try just using my name.”

This exchange wasn’t a repeated one like the others, largely because Arty was afraid of the Craftking. That’s not right, Saga corrected herself. Arty doesn’t fear Papa, he’s just overwhelmed by his presence. Arty hasn’t fully accepted that we really see him as family, even after all these years.

Arty had frozen, so she nudged him with her foot to shake him out of it. He cleared his throat and nodded his head. “Yes, Carver. I’m sorry, it’s a force of habit. I don't want to refer to you so personally among my peers…I don’t want them to think I’m lording it over them.”

“It’s fine, Bartalan. Just, please, at least here?”

“Alright. Carver.” At the old man’s warm smile, Arty visibly gathered his courage to continue. “Do you remember that idea I had for an artificial wind shield a year or two back? I can’t remember if I told you directly or if Saga might have.”

When Carver made it clear he didn’t recall the device, the mage explained it’s design and workings with the man. As he did, Saga whispered to her mother. “Where’s Epic? It’s almost time for dinner, and he might have some input on Arty’s project.”

Mama looked at the clock then back at Saga. “He’ll be home soon, he was working on his armor.”

Saga nodded and turned her attention back to the main conversation. Arty was just finishing his explanation, and her father was nodding thoughtfully. Papa didn’t have much knowledge of magic, but he knew enough to understand what Arty needed.

“So, some thicker copper wire, and a stronger Redlight?” He peered down at his tea, furrowing his brow. “The wire is simple. I can do that myself after dinner, won’t take long. The Redlight, however…”

“I understand if it’s too much, Carver. I didn’t even want to ask, but Saga—”

“No worries, Bartalan.” Papa shook his head and gave his daughter a bemused look. “She tries to fix everything, like Lorana.”

“Hey!” Saga and her mother shouted in unison, looked at each other, then laughed.

Papa shook his head, smiling, then continued. “Still, I’m open to the request, and I understand why this device is important, if it works. My only concern is that any Redlight I grant you will probably be consumed by the shield. Am I correct?”

Arty gulped. “Yes, sir.”

“The Redlights we use in the forge last practically forever. I can grant you one from one of the Master forges, they’re just as strong as when they were created. However…” He had a glint in his eye, and Saga swore she could see the gears turning in her father’s head. He says he hates dealing with the business side of things, but he’s dangerously good at it all the same.

Before Arty could say anything, Papa stood up, walked to a small table in the corner with some paper and a pencil and returned. Most people used ink and quill to write these days, but many craftsmen preferred using the fine charcoal pencils favored by the Carpenters in their work. He held the pencil over the paper and looked back at Arty.

“We’re due for a shipment of Redlights from Merallo soon. Ask the man in charge of shipping them for a few extra for my household. You can give him a letter from me promising payment, but I’ll require something from you.”

Arty grew tense, and Saga noticed his hand was resting over where his coin pouch would be hidden in his tunic. Her father, apparently having also noticed this, chuckled. “Not coin, Bartalan. You can’t afford it, or you wouldn’t be here.” He leaned in. “When you finish your device and are able to produce them in numbers, I want you here installing them on our walls.”

Arty’s eyes bulged. “Master Vance? My device can barely cover a wagon, as it stands, I don’t know-”

He was cut off again, this time by Saga. “Arty, you’re going to Merallo. The Red City. I have no doubt you’ll not only finish your device, you’ll improve it. I’m sure Papa here is thinking the same thing.” She gave her father a questioning look, and he nodded.

“She’s right. I know it will take time, but when it’s ready, I want you here, in Beacon’s Ridge, setting those devices up to protect the city.” He grinned. “We’ll pay you properly, of course.”

Mama had been deep in thought until now, but chimed in at this, giving her husband the stern look she usually reserved for her children. “Carver Vance, don’t you dare ask him for a discount.”

“I’m giving him one of our best Redlights, Lore. I have to make up for the loss somehow.”

“He’s family, and he'll be a Master at that point. We pay our craftsmen fairly.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll let those two factors even each other out.” Papa waved a dismissive hand. Saga could tell her parents were mostly joking, and she got the feeling this back and forth was more for Arty’s sake than an actual discussion.

Arty watched the exchange in bewilderment. “Um…Master Carver? Master Lorana? I don’t mind offering a discount for the work.” He hunched his shoulders, as if embarrassed to continue. “For family, I mean. I don’t even know if this will work, though.”

Mama and Papa looked at each other, then at Arty, then back at each other, before finally breaking down into laughter. Saga joined in, giggling, and even Dapper chittered on her shoulder.. Arty frowned and looked between the four, confused and clearly annoyed. Saga, still giggling, placed a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry, Arty, we’re not laughing at you. It’s just…on the one hand, you finally called us family, but on the other, you’re the person in this house with the least faith in you. Even Dapper knows you can do it.”

Dapper chittered again, waving his pedipalps in a little dance for Arty, which finally made the young mage smile for the first time since he’d entered their home.

“You’re right.”

“I know I am,” Saga beamed.

“You’re right,” Arty repeated, “the design is sound. With the resources in Merallo I should be able to improve the device, and when I’ve earned my Mastery I can return to Beacon’s Ridge and set up my devices here. For a modest fee. A discount for my adopted hometown.”

Papa nodded, smiled, and finally began writing. “Dapper, kind sir, could you grab me another sheet of paper?”

Dapper bowed to Papa, such as he could, and leaped over to the stack before, more carefully, bringing the sheet back stuck to one of his legs. Papa accepted it and began writing a second document. “I can have these scribed in ink later,” he said as he finished, presenting them to Arty, “but how do these look?”

Saga glanced at the two papers - one was the letter to a shipping manager in Merallo and the other was a contract for Arty - and turned her attention to the window. As if on queue, her brother’s tall frame came into view down the street.


Chapter 8

12 February 2025

“There he is.” Saga smiled and raised her hand to wave at him through the window, but hesitated. Something was wrong. He wasn’t walking normally, it was more of a shuffle, and his shoulders sagged. He looked like he’d been working for days straight, a look she knew too well. “Miss Lessa! Some water at the door, he did it again!”

She was on her feet and moving towards the entry room before the others could react. The door opened just as she reached it, and her brother stood there looking dazed. Before she could say anything, he pitched forward, and she only barely managed to catch him and lower him gently to the ground. Well, not too gently. This idiot’s going to work himself to death, she thought, checking him over.

Miss Lessa - always quick to respond - was at their side in seconds, water in hand. She handed the cup to Saga, who put it to Epic’s lips. He was conscious, barely, and he drank without argument.

After Saga pulled the cup away, he opened his mouth to speak, but Miss Lessa had already begun to chide him. “Epic, you fool boy. I knew you weren’t in your bed last night! Master Lorana told me to leave you be, but I knew!” She scowled down at him, and Saga noticed with some amusement that the woman didn’t seem terribly concerned for her brother's well-being. She looked more annoyed, if anything.

The Hearthwoman’s loud scolding made him wince in pain. “Sorry, Lessa. Had some extra work to get done.” He glanced up at Saga, then his parents as they finally entered. “For a client. Oh, hi Arty. Forgot you were coming today.”

Arty peered around Papa’s large frame at the prone young man, looking confused. “That's enchanted, I can feel it from here. Who enchanted it for you? Master Lorana and I are both here.” He looked up to Saga’s mother, who shrugged but kept her eyes fixated on her son.

“It was Betha. I was going to come ask you to help me after dinner, Arty, but she saw me working and wanted some enchanting practice.”

“Uh-huh,” Arty grinned. “I’m sure that’s all you were doing.”

Epic gave Arty a cocky grin, then seemed to suddenly remember that his mother and sister were present and hung his head, hiding a blush. Saga did her best not to snicker, she really did, but the sharp look—and small smile—from her mother told her she’d failed.

“I mean, we took a break or two. It’s hard work.” Epic’s voice had strengthened, but it was clear he was barely staying awake. Saga knew it was more than just the hard work. Mama had been pregnant with her brother when the plague had come to Beacon’s Ridge. They had both survived, and Epic was just as strong as his father, but he’d always lacked in stamina. A single hour of work without a break could be enough to send him to bed on some days.

In spite of this, or perhaps because of it, he always pushed himself harder than his peers, insisting on taking extra work and training with the Guards in unarmed combat. It was probably just as well he wasn’t a drake like Saga or their mother; or he’d probably kill himself trying to enchant something. On the plus side, though, he tended to work faster and more efficiently as he’d learned to work around his limitations.

“What were you working on that was so important that you risked an accident in the Forge?” Papa’s voice cut in, stern, and the look he gave his son was mildly disapproving. “What if you’d fallen into the fire or something? You need to rest, or you’ll be a danger to yourself and everyone around you. I appreciate your dedication to your work, but…” He paused. “Wait, Betha? Isn’t she a Goldsmith? She’s that first mercury who studied metallurgy with you, right?”

Epic didn’t respond at first, avoiding looking at everyone, but eventually he sighed. “Help me up?” he asked Saga, and she obliged. As she did, he smoothly produced a small, intricately designed silver ornament from his belt pouch. Despite not having actively trained as a Blacksmith in years, Saga could still tell such a piece would've taken some skill and time to make. “Alright, alright. I've been teaching her some basic blacksmithing so she can branch out a bit, and in return she's been teaching me to work silver. I spent the past couple of nights making this, with her help, and tonight she enchanted it for me. It’s for you.”

With a start, Saga realized he was holding it out to her. “Me? What? Why?” She stared at the piece, eyes wide in shock.

He snorted and continued to hold it out. “I obviously can’t come with you on your trial, even if I was allowed, so…I wanted to keep you safe. I learned how to work silver specifically to make this. I kept a Redlight lantern on the table while I worked it so it has durability, and Betha added the spell.”

She accepted it from him, cradling it in her palm. It was in the shape of a flower, a rose with thorny vines reaching around to form the clasp. When she carefully opened it, she was delighted to see the hinge was worked into the flower so that it looked three-dimensional, like a little carving of a flower rather than a flat reproduction. “What does it do?”

He grinned, excited. “It’s for self defense. It stores wind while you move, and when you activate it, it releases a burst of wind in all directions. Should be enough to knock most men flat when it’s fully charged, though that would take about a day of walking.”

She realized the implications immediately. “So...if I’m dancing or traveling long distances, it’ll charge even faster?”

“That's right.”

Her eyes began to tear up, and she threw her arms around him. “I was wondering why you’ve been so distant today. I thought maybe you were mad at me, but you were trying to hide this from me.” She gave him a squeeze. “Thank you, Epic.”

Arty chimed in. “That, and he didn’t want you to know he was worried about you.”

“Thanks for that.” Epic growled at Arty, but his heart wasn’t in it. Saga could feel how weak he was, and she finally broke from the hug. “You need to rest, and to eat.”

“In that order? Food sounds good, but I’m about to pass out.” Epic looked to Miss Lessa, who nodded. “Get some rest, Epic. I’ll make sure you have a hearty meal waiting for you.” Her eyes sharpened. “Don’t think you can do this all the time just because it was for a touching gesture this once. If I catch you exhausting yourself like this again I’m not feeding you for a day.”

Epic stared at the woman, mouth agape, then looked at his parents for support. Papa pretended not to notice, but Mama grinned. “She has your best interests at heart, young man. I’m sure you can survive without food for a day if it comes to that.”

Epic hung his head in mock dejection, groaning, and Saga gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Thank you again. Get some rest. I’ll be sure not to leave in the morning without saying goodbye first.” With that, she gave him a light push towards the stairs, and he gave her a weary smile before heading to his room. The gathered family and friends watched him go.

“That’s a powerful enchantment,” Mama commented once he was gone. “Betha might be even more exhausted than he is, and she’ll probably be drained for days after that. Make sure you take good care of it, Saga.”

Saga nodded and pulled her braid up to attach the clasp to the base of it. Miss Lessa appeared behind her, adjusting something and nodding to herself. “It really is a fine piece, Lady Saga, you’d best not lose it.” She frowned then. “You know, it doesn’t really suit the braid very well. Perhaps you should switch to a tail? I’m sure it will be a perfect fit.”

Saga hesitated. She’d worn her hair in a braid like her mother since she was old enough to help out in the Forge. It was a common style for women who worked there if they wanted to keep long hair, as it made it easier for them to keep it out of their way. On the other hand, dancers like her usually left their hair free or put it in a tail. Even though Saga wasn’t officially training as a Blacksmith anymore, ever since she’d reached Journeyman, she’d kept the braid out of habit. She looked to her father, but he was deep in conversation with Arty. This was the last remaining trace of her time learning under him.

Except…

Her eye itched, and she scratched at it idly. ”You’re right. Still, I do prefer the braid. Perhaps we can tighten it up a bit after dinner, make it not so loose? I’m sure the clasp would fit properly then.”

“Of course, Lady Saga.”

“Please don’t call me Lady, Miss Lessa.”

“Then don’t call me Miss, Saga.”

Saga exchanged a grateful smile with her, and the group moved into the dining room where a pair of servants, Miss Lessa’s apprentices, were setting the places. The older woman gave them hushed orders, and one of the places was removed smoothly. Saga sat next to Arty, across from her parents, and surveyed the meal before her. Roasted bird and vegetables with mashed tubers on the side. Saga’s mouth was already watering, despite having eaten only hours previously. Papa wasn’t lying when he said Alder needed a raise. She heard an odd sound and looked at the young man next to her.

“Was that your stomach?”Arty stared at the plate in front of him, and she thought she could see his cheeks redden in the warm light. “You haven’t eaten all day, have you? Were you that absorbed into your wind shield?”

“I could swear I had some fruit for lunch.”

She snorted. “Sure, yesterday.”

He shot her a dirty look and began to eat. She smiled but, as her gaze drifted to the spot next to her, at the end of the table, realization struck.

“Where’s Grandpapa?”


Chapter 9

12 February 2025

The bowl of porridge, with its dried fruit and spices, sat steaming at the end of the table.

Saga looked out the window, but this window faced away from the street and wouldn’t tell her anything. “He’s supposed to be here. He said he was coming tonight.”

“He probably got held up again,” her father said, swallowing. The bird leg in his hand was already almost down to the bone. “You know he’s a busy man, he has an entire school to run.”

“You’re the Craftking, Papa, but you made it to dinner.” Saga stood and headed for the entry chamber. “I’m going to go find him.”

“Saga, wait…” Her mother tried to object, but Saga was already out the door before she could finish.

The night was chilly from the leftovers of the recently departed winter. She pulled her traveling coat closed and did up the buttons. Dapper tapped away at her hat, complaining about the cold, and she opened up one of her chest pockets for him. He wasted no time crawling down and snuggling in, happily chittering his thanks. Smiling, she began to walk through the Shapers’ Forge towards the Academy.

As she turned a corner to head in the right direction, she heard a familiar sound. Clang. Clang. Clang. Someone was still working. She followed the sound and found a young woman at one of the regular forges. Her horns, looking almost like liquid metal captured in time, gave her away as a mercury drake, likely a first generation by the size. “Betha? You’re still working?”

Betha looked up, brushing strands of her dark hair that had escaped her braid from her face and smiling at her. “Evening, Saga! Yeah, I’m working on something for a client, had an early dinner and I got bored so I thought I’d get some hours in. What brings you out so late?”

Saga frowned. “I’m waiting for my grandfather. I thought you’d be tired after helping Epic earlier, he looked dead on his feet.”

“Epic? He was here earlier, over at one of the Redlight forges, but I didn’t help him with anything.” She paused, and Saga wasn’t quite able to tell if the red on her cheeks was from the heat or from something else. “Well, not work, anyway. We took a break together.” She grinned. “Sorry, I’m sure you don’t want to hear that sort of talk about your brother.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Just, he said you helped him with an enchantment earlier. It was a strong one, too.”

Betha furrowed her brow. “That’s odd. No, we spent some time together but I haven’t done any enchanting lately. I’m sure I’d be in bed by now if I had.”

“I must have misunderstood him, then.” Saga wasn’t convinced, but she had other things to worry about. “Well, be safe out here. You know Papa doesn’t like it when smiths work alone after dark. It’s-”

“-not proper workplace safety,” Betha finished, laughing. “I know, I know. I’ll be fine, I’m almost done here and I’ll head home after.”

“Alright. Take care, Betha.”

“You too, tell your family I said hello!”

“Will do.” Saga smiled and turned away, only to immediately spot a familiar cloaked figure approaching from down the street. As he passed into the light of the forges, her grandfather smiled apologetically. “I hope you weren’t coming to fetch me, little one.”

“I absolutely was, but only for your safety.” Saga’s smile turned into a mischievous grin. “Miss Lessa made you porridge, she’d be cross with you if it went to waste. I’d dare say I’ve saved your life.”

“Then it’s a good thing you ran off that ruffian who was accosting me.” Grandpapa winked at her, and they walked arm in arm the short distance back to the house. “Was that girl a friend of yours?”

“A pleasant acquaintance, though she’s apparently a friend of Epic’s.”

“I see.” He looked back at Betha before she disappeared from view. “Another drake…”

Saga looked up at him, confused. “Grandpapa?”

“Sorry, it’s nothing. Just lost in thought.” He smiled at her, and they finally reached the door. “A couple of generations ago, drakes were rare. You could go days or even weeks without seeing one. Seems they’re popping up everywhere these last few decades...”

Saga shrugged, not thinking much of it, and went inside. “So a while back more dragons began having children with humans, and as the population grew, so did spontaneous drake births.” It wasn't unheard of for a drake to be born without a dragon in their recent ancestry. No one was sure exactly why it happened, and they weren't normally as magically gifted as drakes descended directly from dragons, but her grandfather was right; their numbers had been growing. It wasn't uncommon to see two or three teenagers in each classroom with horns, when a short while ago it was uncommon to see even one.

“Of course.” Grandpapa nodded, following her in and closed the door behind them. “Now then, it’s time for dinner. I do believe I smell cinnamon?” He called, already smiling.

“You’re lucky it’s still warm!” Miss Lessa called from the dining room, a mixture of annoyance and amusement in her voice. “If it had gotten cold I’d have made you eat it anyway!”

Grandpapa shared a hug with the woman as they entered the dining room, then took his seat. “And I’d have enjoyed every bite, Lessa. Thank you.”

Miss Lessa sniffed, glanced around the table to make sure everyone was set, and departed with a small smile. Saga was happy to see that her meal was still warm, having been gone only for ten minutes or so.

“What held you up?” Mama asked, having somehow already finished her food. Saga noted her father wasn’t far behind.

“He was accosted by a ruffian,” she chimed in. She gave her mother a winning smile. “He was trying to steal Grandpapa’s magnificent hat.”

Mama’s tone was dry. “I’m sure.”

“I’m sorry, my dear. I was held up at the Academy. Something about Saga’s trial tomorrow, actually.”

“Did Master Dorrin try to delay my trial again?” Saga frowned, concerned.

Grandpapa chuckled between spoonfuls of porridge. “No, no, nothing like that. He’s just concerned about the trip. Logistics, mostly. He wanted to ride with a caravan but we don’t have any heading that way, so you’ll be walking there unless you can catch a ride with an independent trader.”

This didn’t surprise or bother Saga. Horses were available, but with bandits around they were generally only safe for use with large caravans or armed groups. Stealing or poaching horses was a favorite pastime of the bandits, and it was better not to present a target. Saga had once asked why people don’t take horses anyway to outrun any attackers, and Master Dorrin had explained that most organized criminal groups had tricks and traps for dealing with that.

The thing that did bother her was the Master’s apparent concern. This was meant to just be checking in on a late shipment. If something had actually happened to Dove’s Landing, news would have spread, right? This was likely just a negotiation tactic to get a better price on their wood.

“Don’t worry, even by foot the trip should only take four or five days. A week at most.” Her grandfather had apparently mistaken the frown on her face as a reaction to the walk.

She shook her head. “You’re right, sorry. I was just thinking.” She looked over to Arty, who’d been eating quietly next to her. “When does your caravan leave?”

“I was told to meet the caravan at Beacon’s Gate at dawn.” He finished his plate and pushed it away from him, then pulled out the contract her father had penciled for him. “I’m going to go over this with Master Carver and try to finish up the shield before then.”

“Just make sure you get some actual sleep before you leave. You won’t be able to test the shield if you’re passed out in the back of a cart.” She nudged him with her elbow and smiled. “I’ll meet you at the gate before you leave, okay?”

He nodded and smiled back. “Alright. See you then.” He looked over at her father, who’d finally finished his plate. “Shall we, sir?”

Papa nodded his agreement and the two departed for the sitting room where they continued to converse, their voices a low murmur.

Mama watched them go and looked at Saga and Grandpapa. “Papa, what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry?” He looked at her, startled by her question.

“Most Bards go on their trials solo. The entire point is to make sure they’re ready to travel alone and perform their duties. Having Master Dorrin holding her hand the entire way is going to undermine that, don’t you think? Not to mention how hard he always is on her when she trains with him.” Her gaze was hard, and Saga knew her mother’s mind was as sharp as the blades she made. “I believe that he’s not trying to undermine her, but there’s still a reason he’s going.”

Grandpapa looked down at his bowl, roughly half full, then sighed and pushed it away. “You’re right.”

Saga’s interest was immediately piqued. She knew there was something odd about the trial, but she assumed it was Master Dorrin picking on her again. “Grandpapa? What’s really going on at Dove’s Landing?”

Tale looked back and forth between his daughter and granddaughter, his gaze level. “Nothing, as far as we know. That part of your trial you can take at face value.”

“That part?”

He nodded. “It’s…there have been some odd reports of bandit activity in that region. Not near the village, but further to the east.”

Saga leaned back in her chair and snorted, earning a sharp look from her mother. “What’s so odd about bandits? After the plague, they’re everywhere, and even before then they weren’t exactly rare.”

“Right. If it was just bandits it would be a non-issue, though we’d likely still send you with a partner for safety, just in case. No, these look like bandit attacks at first glance, but…” he closed his eyes, choosing his words carefully, then held up three fingers, counting them off.

“First, the settlements that are attacked have had no survivors. Not even women and children. Plenty of bodies, and it’s clear that violence is at hand, but not a single survivor in any village. The bodies show signs of…being beaten and bitten, and not by animals.

“Second, the bandits haven’t been found. That alone isn’t particularly worrying, many of them are good at hiding, but this has been going on for quite some time, and Balorn’s hunters have yet to be able to find any hidden camps. It’s almost as if the bandits themselves have disappeared.

“Third, and finally, the settlements are just far enough apart that it’s unlikely they were all attacked by the same bandit group. The culprit is either very mobile, or there’s more than one group that can pull the vanishing act.”

He lowered his hands and stared at Saga, his eyes giving away nothing. After a moment, she realized he was waiting for her reaction. She shot a glance at her mother, who looked shocked. “You’re sending her to investigate these attacks?”

Grandpapa shook his head, holding his hands out in a placating gesture. “No, no. Like I said, Saga’s trial you can take at face value. Her job is to check in on Dove’s Landing, find out why their shipments have stopped, and fix it if she can, or report back. Master Dorrin is accompanying her there, but he’ll continue east from there to investigate himself while Saga returns home.”

Saga furrowed her brow. “Why is a Bard investigating bandit attacks? Why not send some Guards, or let Balorn handle it themselves?” She understood why her grandfather would have this information, as his position had him in charge of both the Bards and Guards, but Master Dorrin was a blade dancer. Skilled in bladework, sure, but hardly an Investigator or hunter.

Grandpapa shrugged and pulled his bowl back to him. Saga guessed from the look on his face when he took a bite, it had gone cold, but he continued to eat anyway. “He has some additional training that makes him well suited to this task. He spent his younger days as an adventurer, after all.”

“Should you be telling us this?” Saga frowned.

“Not at all.” He winked at her, then continued soberly. “You’ll likely learn about it from Master Dorrin during the trip, and I trust my beloved daughter to be discreet.”

Mama sighed, then looked at her Saga. “I trust your grandfather wouldn’t knowingly send you into danger, Saga. Just go with Master Dorrin, deal with Dove’s Landing, and come home safe.” Her voice was steady, but her eyes seemed to be pleading, filled with worry. “Please.”

Saga looked back and forth at her silent grandfather and concerned mother, then slowly nodded. “Yes, Mama. I’m not going to try to be a hero over some wood, don’t worry.”

The older woman looked relieved, but Saga’s mind was racing as she quickly finished her plate. Something big was happening, though she wasn’t sure how she knew. Master Dorrin was a good with a sword, but they wouldn’t send him to track down some phantom bandits, unless…

Her mind drifted to her old favorite legend, Adressa the Wind Dancer. That story had filled her with dreams of heroism as a child, and those dreams had persisted into her early adulthood. There were also tales and legends of other notable heroes from this very city, all centered around the Keepers’ Academy. These heroes were called Keepers in the stories told to young children.

“If it’s alright with you both,” she said, finally, “I’d like to have Lessa fix my braid and then head to bed.”

Grandpapa and Mama both stood and hugged her as she left, the former with promises of seeing her off in the morning. She poked her head into the seating room to say goodnight to her father and Arty as well, hugging both, then went upstairs to her room.

Miss Lessa, being the mind reader she was, was already waiting in her room by her nightstand. She’d brought out the large mirror that was meant to be affixed to it, though Saga had asked her to remove it from the room soon after the accident. Now she only used it when Miss Lessa was doing her hair, so she could give her input on the style.

“Alright, Saga, are you doing the tail or the braid?”

She briefly considered herself in the mirror while she pondered the question. She favored her mother in appearance, tall with golden blonde hair and a sharp jawline. Her golden horns just barely poked through the hair framing the sides of her face, gently curving several inches back from just above and in front of her ears. The only thing she’d gotten from her father was his olive green eyes, though the healing she’d received after the accident that had given her the scar over her right eye had also turned the iris a pale grey color. The scar itself had grown fine with age, a slightly jagged diagonal line of pink running from just above the outside edge of her eyebrow to just to the right of her nose.

As she looked at that grey eye, she felt it begin to itch, and familiar red flames began to lick at the edge of her vision. She gave her head a little shake and closed her eyes, forcing the vision of fire from her mind. She’d grown used to this, always having to be ready to shove the flames away.

“The braid, please, just a little thinner so the clip fits properly. I don’t want to be fussing with loose hair on the trip. Could you leave the front a little looser than before? They still poke through a little.” She never needed to explain to Miss Lessa why she wanted to hide her horns; the older woman was well aware of her desires in that regard.

“Of course.” The older woman got to work, untangling the old braid, brushing out the hair, and beginning work on the new braid. While she worked, Saga lost herself in thought.

I’m sorry, Mama, but I won’t give up the chance to be a hero if I can help it.


Chapter 10

12 February 2025

True to his word, Tale had been waiting for Saga at Beacon’s Gate. She’d gone to bed early the night before, and woke up a few hours before dawn to make sure her traveling gear was ready. She was especially sure to bring her old notebook, with almost every page filled to the margins with knowledge she’d earned and recorded during her years at the Academy after receiving it as a gift from her grandfather for joining the Bards. Her father had left the Dove’s Landing defense contract on a table next to the door, and she’d tucked it away safely in her pack.

She stood with her grandfather now, wearing the same red coat and hat from the previous day, but otherwise dressed in fresh clothes. Her braid felt a little tighter in the back now, though Miss Lessa had done an admirable job of concealing her horns.

They made idle chatter while waiting for Master Dorrin, and he arrived not long after dawn, looking tired. “Up late, old friend?” Tale asked him, and received a heatless glare in return. Master Dorrin didn’t seem so mean when he talked to her grandfather, Saga noted.

“Aye. Just wanted to make sure I had everything for the trip. Never know what you’ll run into out there.”

Tale nodded, understanding, then gestured to Saga. “I hope you’ll forgive me, but I told her about your task.”

“You what!?” Master Dorrin’s glare was suddenly real, and he looked at Saga. “How much did you tell her!?”

“Relax, my friend. I simply explained that you’ll be leaving her at Dove’s Landing to investigate some bandits, and that she’ll be returning home without you.” Her grandfather hardly seemed bothered by Master Dorrin’s anger, and he’d likely expected it.

The other man closed his eyes, visibly composing himself with a deep breath. When he finally opened them, he’d returned to his usual dour mood. “I see. I suppose it can’t be helped, she would have found out eventually.”

“She’s standing right here.”

The two men paused, blinked and looked at her. Tale’s eyes danced in amusement, while Master Dorrin looked almost apologetic. Almost.

“Ah. So you are. My apologies, young lady. Yes, as your grandfather said, I’ll be moving on from Dove’s Landing after we arrive, though I’ll remain for a day or two in case you require assistance.”

Saga hesitated, then nodded. She didn’t think she’d need his help with trade negotiations, but she had long learned not to turn down help when offered. “Yes, Master. I appreciate the offer of assistance. If there’s anything I can do to help with your-”

“No!” His response was sharp, cutting her off before she could finish. He took a deep breath, calming himself once more - that man needs to watch his blood pressure - before continuing. “No thank you, Miss Vance. My task is much too dangerous to involve you, no offense. I can move quickly and quietly on my own, and I know exactly what I’m looking for.”

Saga stared at him for a moment, trying her best to replicate her mother’s stern expression. He met her gaze at first, but then eventually sighed. “That said…if I think of something you can do to help me, without endangering yourself or prolonging your trial, I will be sure to let you know.” She opened her mouth to reply, but he held up a finger to cut her off again. “But, I expect you to follow my orders on this matter. If I tell you to fight, you fight. If I tell you to run, you run. The trial is yours, and I’ll let you deal with the village however you see fit, but as soon as bandits become involved, I’m in command.” His raised finger turned into an extended hand. “Do we have a deal?”

Saga’s heart skipped a beat. Is he…treating me like an equal? I mean, sure, he’s taking control, but he normally wouldn’t bother giving me the choice. What’s gotten into him? She realized she was just standing there, and nodded jerkily before shaking his hand. “Yes, Master. I agree to your terms. Thank you for your trust.”

He looked her in the eye for a moment before nodding, squeezing her hand in his, then letting go. Her grandfather, who’d been watching silently, made eye contact with his friend. Something unspoken passed between them, and she was struck with the notion that she’d passed some kind of test. Before she could ask what was going on, she heard a voice yell from within the gate.

“Saga!” It was Arty, waving to her from the back of a wagon at the head of a convoy of five or six such carts. The trio stepped off the road as the carts rolled by, and Arty nimbly leaped from his cart to approach them. Dapper made an appearance on her shoulder as he approached, waving a greeting at the young man. Arty smiled and waved to the beatweaver before looking at Saga. “I was able to finish the device thanks to your father. It works, as best as I can tell, though it’s probably not powerful enough to protect the entire convoy.” His gaze turned to the carts as they slowly rolled by.

“Anything is better than nothing,” Saga reminded him, a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “and I’m sure once this works you’ll have all the resources you need to improve it.” She squeezed the shoulder, then dropped her hand. He looked back at her and smiled nervously. “If you say so. Erm…may I ask a favor?”

“Of course.” She smiled, waiting.

“Could I…uhh…” He trailed off, his face red. She raised an eyebrow, confused, but before she could ask what had him so nervous, he let it out. “CouldIhaveakiss?”

She blinked. “What?”

“I mean, for good luck, you know, with the trip and all that…” He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, and she couldn’t help but think he looked like a puppy. She laughed, despite herself, then leaned in quickly to place a kiss on his cheek.

“Good luck with the trip and all that, Bartalan Fox.”

He stared at her, stunned, his hand on his cheek. It was as if he didn’t believe she’d actually do it. She laughed again, her eyes dancing, and gave him a light shove. “Go! You’ll miss the caravan.”

With her prodding, he finally recovered. He smiled brightly, waved, and turned. As he began to jog, she felt his Will flow out from him as he cast Haste. His version of the spell was more refined than hers, doing little more than rustling the clothing of those he passed, while hers had caused a minor windstorm when she ran at full speed. It took him only seconds to return to his wagon, and she watched him the entire way before looking back to the two men with her.

Master Dorrin’s face was carefully neutral, but her grandfather seemed on the verge of breaking into laughter. “Why do you tease that poor boy so?”

“I’m sorry?”

He actually laughed this time, and she couldn’t help but glare at him in confused frustration until he recovered enough to reply. “By the angels…you don’t even realize what you’re doing, do you?”

“Evidently not?”

“You know he fancies you, Saga. He has since you two were old enough to have such thoughts.” His face was full of mirth as he wiped tears from his eyes. “Why else would he ask you for a kiss before you two are separated for what will likely be at least several months?”

She frowned. It honestly hadn’t occurred to her that he might feel that way. They’d practically grown up together, and she considered him as much of a brother as Epic. Sure, she teased him now and then, but she didn’t think he actually felt that way. Him asking for a kiss hadn’t even shaken that view since a kiss on the cheek wasn’t an uncommon way for someone to wish someone else good fortune, but in retrospect it was obvious. She groaned loudly, burying her face in her hands, and this time even Master Dorrin smiled while Tale laughed again.

“I genuinely had no idea!”

“Miss Vance, you are incredibly astute when it comes to observing others, yet your awareness in this matter is astoundingly dense.”

“I…that…” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, counting to three. When she opened them again, they had finally regained their composure. Good. I’d hate to have to cause them harm. “Arty is a close friend, nothing more. If I’ve been acting otherwise towards him, there’s nothing for it than to clarify things next time I see him.

“Grandpapa, good day to you, and give my best to everyone at home. Master Dorrin, we’d best be heading out if we’re to make it to Dove’s Landing on time, don’t you think?” Without waiting for an answer, she turned on her heel and began to stride away, casting a Strider spell to lighten and slightly quicken her steps as she departed. She knew Master Dorrin wasn’t a mage; he’d have to work hard to catch up with her.

Serves him right!


Chapter 11

12 February 2025

Although Saga and Master Dorrin were ostensibly alone on their journey, in actuality they shared the road with several traders and other travelers. The way guards from the various caravans mingled and helped watch each others' charges, how passing traders would call out to each other in good-natured ribbing, and how some caravans included entirely families setting out for destinations unknown, the entire group felt like a mobile village. Mixed in with the conventional wheeled wagons favored by most traders, she could see a few floatwood wagons, the silvery wood coasting easily a couple of feet off the ground and pulled by horses.

Saga had been away from Beacon's Ridge before, but not much further than some of the surrounding farming villages and, once, to the southern mines with her mother. This journey was a trial for her in more ways than one, and she was excited by the opportunities it presented. She would go to Dove's Landing, find out what was holding up the lumber shipments, hopefully solve the problem, then come back as a hero. If she did well enough, maybe Master Dorrin would let her help him with his investigation!

She eyed the man as they walked along. He'd been acting strangely since they'd left, almost as soon as they'd pass out from the tunnel from Beacon's Gate to the flatlands below. It had taken him a while to catch up to her when she left him behind, but he hadn't seemed as annoyed as she'd expected when he finally did. He was even smiling! The sight made her want to smile in return, but also left her with some emotional whiplash. Master Dorrin didn't smile, he just didn't. She'd shared jokes with fellow apprentices that he'd likely break something in his jaw if he tried.

"What are you smiling at, girl?" His face bore his usual dour expression.

Saga blinked. Had she actually been smiling? "Just enjoying the sights, Master," she blurted, thinking quickly. "There's so much to see out here."

"We're barely an hour out, there's nothing here you haven't seen before."

"As you say, Master." She turned her head to give the old man his space. She thought she heard a low chuckle, but surely that was some loose stones under the wheel one of the surrounding trade wagons.

"Toby!" Master Dorrin called out suddenly, startling her, and she followed her mentor's gaze to one of the wagons. There was an older man at the reins, with a finely trimmed brown beard flecked with grey. The man looked back, saw who'd called him, and waved.

Master Dorrin jogged forward to have a word with the apparent trader, though from his clothes he must have been of modest means. A farmer, maybe? "Toby, my friend. Could we hitch a ride in your wagon until we reach Cristin's Crossroads?" Some coined exchanged hands, and Toby welcomed them aboard like long-lost family, even going so far as to offer food and drink.

Saga declined, having eaten a good breakfast at Miss Lessa's insistence, but her mentor gladly excepted a snack of bread, cheese, and water. The two men chatted at the front of the wagon while Saga listened in from the back, nestled among the various baskets and jars of trade goods.

"What brings you out, Dorrin?" Toby's voice was chipper, belonging to a man half his age. "You're gettin' too old for these long walks, I'd think."

Master Dorrin laughed. "Why do you think I flagged you down? I'm headed for Dove's Landing, hunting a song."

"Anythin' in particular?"

"Perhaps. I'm sure I'll know it when I hear it."

It was Toby's turn to laugh. "Bards. Wish I could just wander the world for a livin', bringing back tales and news to the city whenever I feel like. No, I've got to ride this same dirt road every week."

"What are you porting, Porter?" Master Dorrin looked down at the contents of the cart behind them. Saga had her head turned so that she could barely see the men in her periphery, pretending to watch Dapper dance on top of a nearby basket but still listening. He had his tiny hat in his front legs and was twirling it around, occasionally throwing it out and pulling it back with a near-invisible line of silk. A small crowd of children had gathered behind the wagon to watch, occasionally letting out gasps and cheers at the beatweaver's antics.

Toby shrugged. "The usual. Mostly leather goods from the Stitchers' Works, some metal fittin's from the Forge. A lot of the outlyin' farms in Balorn are still recoverin' after almost two decades, you know. They're finally gettin' the manpower they've needed, but they need materials to really get to work."

The plague. It had almost taken Lorana when she was pregnant with Epic. Saga was barely two at the time, and hadn't really comprehended how close she'd been to losing her mother. Lorana had survived, of course, but plenty hadn't. As badly as it had hit Beacon's Ridge, though, it could have been significantly worse if the Council hadn't taken early measures to limit the spread.

Balorn, their eastern neighbor, had fared far worse. Though the nation was large, the population was spread thin in the outer reaches, and word travelled slowly. The plague had a long incubation period, so by the time each farm and mine and village heard the news of the disease spreading through their country, it was too late to prevent getting sick. By ill fortune, it hit people of working age the hardest, and when all was said and done, Balorn's working population had suffered heavy losses.

This led to banditry and attempts at conquest in seek of resources in the years immediately following, and it was her grandfather's negotations with an invading Balornic force that prevented all-out war and saw the flow of workers and supplies to the empty farms of Balorn so that the nation could begin to recover. Two decades on, both sides were more than happy to maintain the arrangement, and caravaners like Toby and his partners were a common sight on the roads between Beacon's Ridge and Balorn.

Master Dorrin was nodding thoughtfully. "Makes sense. They've gotten plenty of help over the years, but Balorn's a big place. I'm not surprised they're only just now getting their feet under them."

"What about their oranges?"

The two men looked at Saga, confused, so she continued. "I heard yesterday that Balornic Oranges had a bad harvest this year. If the farms are getting better, what happened there?"

"You like to keep your ears open, miss," Toby said thoughtfully, shrugged again. "Bad harvests're a fact of life. Sometimes they just happen, but I'm sure they'll bounce back." He eyed her, then looked to the man next to him. "Are you goin' to introduce me to the young lady, Dorrin?"

Master Dorrin had been staring at Saga, but hearing his name - and getting an elbow in his side - got his attention. "Hm? Oh, yes. This is Saga, my student. She's on her journeyman trial to become a full Bard."

The trader looked at Saga again, then back to Master Dorrin, his brow furrowed. "You're, uh...travelin' with her?" There was some meaning in the way he said it, but Saga couldn't quite glean it.

Her mentor gave the man an odd look, almost like a warning, then shook his head. "No, no. We're both heading to Dove's Landing, but she's staying there while I press on."

Toby nodded slowly, then reached back to offer her his hand. "Tobias Porter, miss, but you can call me Toby. Any friend o' Dorrin's a friend o' mine. Do you have a second name?"

Saga took his hand, considering the question. This was her first real contact outside the city, and she didn't want her family name looming over her and changing how he looked at her if she could help it, but she was also hesitant to lie outright. Should I just tell him, but claim no relation? What if he thinks I'm trying to lord it over him? He'll probably insist I join them on the bench, but I'm fine back here...

"Saga?" Master Dorrin's voice brought her out of her thoughts, and she realized suddenly that she was taking too long to answer. Deciding quickly, she gave Toby's hand a firm shake. "Rose. Saga Rose. A pleasure, Mister Porter."

Master Dorrin suppressed a grin, but Toby's smile was more open. "I see. The pleasure's mine, Miss Rose, but please, Toby's fine."

With that, Toby turned his attention back to the road, engaging in idle conversation with Master Dorrin while Saga settled in among the cargo for the trip. Dapper continued to dance as she dozed off, the occasional cry of joy from his audience keeping her from falling into a deep sleep.

———

Around the time the sun began to dip towards the horizon, Saga smelled smoke. Alarmed, she blinked her eyes open and sat up, looking around.

"Easy, Saga." Master Dorrin was looking ahead, but had apparently noticed her moving. "It's just the Crossroads. They always have fires going, especially near the end of the day. Look."

He pointed, and Saga followed the finger. Sure enough, just coming over the horizon was what appeared to be a large campsite. Several columns of smoke drifted up lazily, most likely from cookfires. She recalled her notes about Cristin's Crossroads. "That's a trader camp, right?"

Toby nodded. "Yep. There's a few who stay there year-round, but most of the people you'll meet there are on one trip or another. That's where the major trade routes of the area intersect. You've got roads heading south to the mines, east into the forest, and north towards Balorn's outlying settlements. People are at this spot so often that someone had the idea of settin' up a permanent camp, and it's been goin' strong ever since. They even keep some guards on hand to deal with the odd monster or animal."

Saga listened as the man talked, watching the settlement as they drew closer. It was a field of tents of all colors, shapes, and sizes. The road itself was kept clear, but the numerous tents were packed so tightly together she couldn't believe they were mostly temporary. Some spots didn't even have a tent, just a parked cart with a horse or ox grazing nearby and a makeshift stall set up at the back for passing travelers to browse. The people were the same wide array of nationalities and trades as the group she'd been travelling with, though she didn't immediately spot any more Outliers.

"It's practically a village in its own right," she commented.

"Yep. There's frequent talk of buildin' a proper inn or tavern here, but no one's been willing to put in the time, effort, and cost to build one worth buildin'." He shrugged. "It'd have to be pretty solid to withstand some of the monsters we get out here."

"There can't be that many this close to the City, can there? At most a Snarewolf or two?"

Master Dorrin shook his head. "Normally, yes. But every once in a while something bigger comes out of that forest, and when a monster gets big enough, a gathering this big looks like a buffet."

She nodded her understanding. "That makes sense. I'll be on my guard then, just in case."

"No need for that." They were pulling into an empty space near the edge of the camp, and Master Dorrin got down from the cart to help Toby guide it into place while he spoke. "They have actual Guards here, they're a match for most of the beasts that might show up here. If you have to draw your sword, we have bigger problems."

Saga hopped out of the back of the cart and helped the men set it up for the night, putting a tarp over the goods and leading the horse to a nearby post with a feed trough. A group of children came down the path, their arms full of hay, and one of them stopped in front of their cart. "Hay for your horse, lady?" Saga smiled down at the young girl, then looked over at Toby. The trader ambled over and paid the girl, and Saga noticed he'd given her a silver coin for the bundle.

"That hay cost a silver?" she asked after the girl was out of earshot, on her way back to collect another armful of hay, travelers were constantly arriving from all directions, and Saga imagined she'd earn a few more coins before the night was through.

"Nah, but these children are the sons and daughters of traders who've been left here for safekeepin' while their parents go to places either too far or too dangerous to bring their families. Some of those kids your spider was entertainin' will end up staying here until their parents return. Most of us try to take good care of them as long as they're makin' an effort to earn their keep. Some of them have been here for..." he shot Saga a glance, and there was a hint of pain in his eyes. "...well, they've been here for too long. They're one of the reasons people keep talking about making an inn. These kids deserve a proper roof over their heads.

Saga eyed the children at work in a new light. Some of them were surely orphans, then. Her heart ached for them, but for the most part they seemed content with their lot. "What happens if they've been here for too long? Or if, you know, they get confirmation? Surely they don't spend their entire lives here."

"No, no. If we get word that one of them has lost their family, they usually get taken in by another trader or taken back to Beacon's Ridge so they can take up a Craft. We don't leave any of them out here if they don't want to stay."

She furrowed her brow at that last part. Did some of them choose to stay here at the Crossroads? Toby nodded, seeming to read her mind. "For some of them, this is as close to a home as they'll ever have. I expect if anyone actually builds anything here, it'll be one of them."

The three had been walking as they talked, making their way towards one of the cookfires. The people here seemed happy, some of them chatting loudly with friends and acquaintances while others kept to themselves, seated at makeshift tables with mugs of some drink or another. Music filled the air as they approached, and she spotted a group of musicians playing a wordless song for the people gathered around the fire. Every so often, a passing trader or one of the children would walk by and drop a few coins in a bucket before them.

Saga looked at Master Dorrin expectantly, and he sighed and shook his head. "Maybe later. We need to figure out where we're sleeping tonight, first."

"We can't stay with Toby?"

"I'm sure he'd let us, but it'd be better to distance ourself from him."

The trader in question nodded in agreement. "You two have a task to carry about, and the less I'm involved the better. That said, Dorrin, you let me know if you need anythin' else." He shook hands with Master Dorrin and clapped him on the shoulder before sketching a bow to Saga. "And you, Miss Rose. Safe travels to you both." Saga bowed her head in acknowledgment, offering him a smile, then watched him leave.

Once he was out of earshot, she leaned sideways to whisper to her mentor. "What did he mean by that?"

"He knows some of my wanderings can be...dangerous," he muttered. "He likes to keep himself apart in case I make any enemies, but he won't leave us hanging, either. Now," he turned to face her completely. "This is the first step of your trial. I suggest asking around discreetly about Dove's Landing. See if anyone has heard anything out of the ordinary about it. Remember, making friends is important in our line of work, so introduce yourself to as many people as possible, but don't tell them too much about yourself. Be familiar, but not close."

She tilted her head, confused. "You want me to make friends, but don't let them know too much about me? How does that make sense?"

He grinned, an unfamiliar expression on his usually grouchy face, but it somehow seemed natural on him. "I'm sure you'll figure it out, Miss Rose. Oh, here." He handed her a large coin engraved with the crossed keys of the Keepers Academy. "Take my Bard's Mark, in case you need to make some coin. If anyone asks, it's yours."

She accepted it, but before she could reply, he was gone, vanished into the crowd. She frowned, pondering his words. He didn't even tell me when or where we'd meet up. Ah, well. She'd just have to trust him to find her later. For now, she turned her gaze to inspect the crowd. "Make some friends..." she eyed the Bards as their most recent song, a slow, sad piece she recognized from school, came to an end.

A sad song on a pleasant day like this? Well, that wouldn't do.


Chapter 12

12 February 2025

Making a quick decision, Saga walked over to them, tipping her hat at the man seated in the front. He was an older man she though she'd seen around the Academy once or twice, with an old guitar laid across his lap. These had gained recent prominence among stringed instruments, though they'd been around for a long time. The other Bards had an assortment of flutes, drums, a few stringed instruments, and even a brass horn.

"Good day to you all," Saga gave the guitarist her best smile. "How's the take today?"

The man grunted, but smiled, massaging his hands between songs. "Well enough, but it could be better. Is that a dancing saber on your belt?"

She turned to show off more of her weapon and instrument. "It is. I'm..." she clamped her mouth shut before telling her she was on her trial. That would probably be too much information to share. "I'm on my way to Dove's Landing, hunting a song." She copied the phrase Master Dorrin had used earlier, wondering if it meant anything special.

The guitarist nodded. "You got your pass? We'd welcome a dancer to bring us more coin." She showed the man the coin she'd received from her mentor, and he nodded again. "Alright, then." He paused, then looked her up and down. "I don't suppose you can sing, too?"

"I think it's best for everyone involved if I don't."

The man laughed loudly, clapping his knee. "That's as well-put a denial as I've ever heard. Alright, alright. Do you have a song you'd prefer?"

She thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. "I'll leave it to you. I can pick up the song as we go."

With that settled, the guitarist flexed his fingers, picked up his instrument, and began to play. The other Bards joined in after only a few notes, blending in so seamlessly that, if she didn't know better, she'd have thought this was a traveling troupe. Most Bards travelled alone, though, and that was why each Bard practiced multiple instruments for variety, but when two or more Bards did happen to meet, they tended to draw a crowd.

She drew her sword as the band played, a jaunty, lively song that was meant for dancing, and the crowd quickly cleared a space for her in front of the makeshift orchestra. When the song hit a good starting point, Saga began to dance.

Saga had been practicing her blade dance for the better part of eight years. Almost every free moment she had a practice saber in her hand, and later on the real thing. She learned how each dancer had their own unique style of dance, and Master Dorrin helped her discover hers. Over time, she became skilled enough to begin dancing to almost any beat, without rehearsal, and her ability to improvise had been honed to be as sharp as her saber.

She fell immediately into that familiar mindset as she stepped forward, flourishing her blade to give their audience a taste of what was to come. Then, she began in earnest.

Her saber spun around her in flowing arcs and quick twists, her hands never seeming to hold it for more than half a second as she danced with it. It seemed to have a mind of its own, and onlookers would almost think it was her dance partner rather than just a prop or weapon.

In a way, it was. She'd forged this saber herself after Master Dorrin had given her permission to switch to training with a live blade. Her father had welcomed her back into the forge with open arms, and had even assisted her with its design. It was a relatively simple piece, resembling a rapier with a slightly curved blade and a decorative guard that left her room to grab it from any angle. The entire weapon was done in silver, except for a dark red grip.

Radiant Thorn, as she'd named it, was an excellent dance partner. The sunlight reflecting off of its blade gave the saber an almost ethereal appearance as they moved together. The band had almost immediately adjusted to her tempo, following her rather than leading, and the watching crowd began to grow as passersby were struck by the sight.

She swayed as she moved, using a slightly different style than when she danced in combat. This was the freedom of movement and rhythm without having to respond to an attacker, and the feeling always made her heart soar. She closed her eyes, trusting the audience to maintain a safe distance, and lost herself in the motions. A spin, a flourish, a toss and a catch, never once losing her momentum.

Saga lost herself in the dance, as she always did. When she was danced, she wasn't the Craftking's daughter, she wasn't a drake, she was just Saga, and she reveled in that. As the song wound down, she gave one last spin, sword in hand, and gave the audience a sweeping bow. Her cheeks were flushed and her heart was racing, but she felt more alive now than ever.

The gathered crowd was applauding, to her surprise. She knew she was a good dancer on an academic level, but this was her first time performing for an audience that wasn't friends and family, and some small part of her was surprised at the crowd's reaction. She found herself smiling brightly, though she was glad that the wide brim of her hat covered her blushing cheeks while her head was bowed.

"Another?" The guitarist asked. His voice was pitched low, and she could barely hear him over the cheers of the surrounding crowd.

She shot a sidelong glance at the bucket slowly filling with coin after the most performance, then nodded her agreement. The guitarist's eyes glinted as he nodded back. "Let's try something with a little more life in it."

Before she could protest, he'd murmured instructions to the band and begun playing. As promised, this song had a faster tempo to it, and she felt her heartbeat speeding up to match the pace. She shook her head, grinned, and joined in.

Saga performed one more song after that second one, then sat down and drew her flute to join the band while one of the drummers, a red-haired woman in a dark green tuning and riding skirt, stood to sing the next song. The next hour or so continued in this way, with Saga going back and forth between dancing and playing her flute to rest her legs. It wasn't until someone rang a lunch bell that the gathered musicians finally took a break.

"You did good, girl. How long ago did you graduate?" The guitarist handed her her share of the earnings, a decent handful of silvers and coppers, and even a gold. This would keep her fed for her trip, at least.

She accepted the coins gratefully from the man and gave him her best smile, remembering Master Dorrin's words. "Recently. I hope my performance didn't hold you all back."

"No, no." The man shook his head. "You're an excellent dancer, and your flute work ain't half bad either. Do you play anything else?"

Saga shrugged. "Drums, mostly. I can play some strings as well, mostly the harp, but I can pick my way around a lute or guitar. Blade dancing is my Passion, though."

His nod was solemn. "It shows." He stuck his hand out to her as he finally introduced himself. "The name's Amos. What do we call you?"

She smiled and accepted the hand, shaking it firmly. "Saga Rose. A pleasure to meet you, Amos."

"And you, Miss Rose."

"Just Saga's fine, really."

"Alright, Saga. Do you have plans for dinner?" He hooked a thumb over his shoulder, and she spotted several of the band members going to the same tent with a cookfire burning out front.

Dinner? She only just now realized the sun had set, the light of various torches, lanterns, and a few Redlights keeping the area well-lit. How long had she been dancing?

She almost turned him down so she could get back to her mission, but her stomach's grumbled protests made up her mind for her. "I don't, no. Was going to wander the stalls and snag something there."

He offered his hand again, and she let him help her to her feet from her spot in the dirt. "You can join us, then. We've got a pot going, and there's plenty to go around." With that, he led her over to the tent where the other bards had gathered and made introductions.

Among the group she recognized the red-haired singer, a woman named Gemma, and another flutist named Herb who'd been sitting next to Saga when she played her flute and had helped lead her into some unexpected changes to the songs. The other gathered bards included a horn player named Tuck, another drummer named Copel, and a brother-sister duo consisting of Pell the horn player and Nell the fiddler, both of whom were apparently first platinums by their bright, antler-like horns. Saga gathered from the introductions that while most of the musicians they'd been playing with were independent traveling Bards who'd joined in to make some coin, these seven were a core group who stayed more or less permanently at the Crossroads.

Saga introduced herself and Dapper to them using her new alias, and was pleased to realize all of them took her identity at face value, as far as she could tell. She wasn't sure when she'd fully bought into her Master's whole "secret identity" idea, but she had to admit it was exciting. She could craft a whole new persona, become someone who wasn't bound by the constraints of her family name and her heritage.

This is the first step. This is how I become a hero.

She realized with a start that someone was talking to her, and she looked up to see Gemma handing her a bowl of seasoned vegetables. She only now noticed the copper horns poking out from the woman’s hair, resembling jagged lines. "Oh, thank you!" Saga said, offering her a smile.

"Don't thank me, kid, you earned this one." Gemma gave her a wink. "You'll have to pay for the second bowl, though."

“Kid? You can’t be much older than me.” Saga had already taken a bite, and she gave the cookpot a longing glance. "...I may have to take you up on that second bowl, though."

The other woman laughed, a tinkling sound that made Saga want to laugh along. “You’re still new to this, I can tell. Everyone’s a ‘kid’ when they’re first setting out. Don’t worry, you’ll outgrow it soon enough.”

Saga grunted noncommittally. Was it that obvious? She’d probably only make it worse by arguing. Instead, she took another bite of the food and savored it. The vegetables were coated in just the right amount of seasoning, giving them a savory taste that wasn't overly salty. She noted they appeared to have been steamed in some form of broth, which probably helped the flavor. She preferred meat when possible, but this dish was too good not to enjoy.

"Where's mine, Gem?" Copel grinned. The bald man was holding out both hands expectantly, and Gemma snorted in response.

"Saga here's a guest. You can get your own, it's three feet in front of you."

The group laughed, including Copel himself, who helped himself to a bowl. "Ain't that a kick."

"So Saga, what brings you to the Crossroads?" Nell already had two empty bowls sitting in front of her - Saga idly wondered where the tiny girl put all that food - and was scooping a third.

"I'm on my way to Dove's Landing, hunting a song." That phrase was getting easier to say the more she said it, like reciting a proverb. She finished her bowl and eyed the pot.

"What kind of song? Is singing your Passion? But you didn't sing with us! Can you sing as well as Gemma? You should sing together!"

"I, er...I think it's best for everyone involved if I don't sing. My Passion is blade dancing, like you saw."

"Oh, okay. So why are you hunting a song in Dove's Landing? There's nothing there but trees, trees, and more trees. It's so boriiiiing." She drew out the last word as she threw her head back, and Saga couldn't help but smile at the girl's energy.

"Heard there were bandits that way," Tuck said, frowning. "I hope you're not traveling alone, or at least that your sword isn't just for dancing."

"Ooooh, bandits?" Nell jumped back into the conversation before Saga could press him for details. "That sounds exciting! Too bad Pell here isn't a fighter, we could go kick their-"

"As I was saying, it's dangerous to go alone." Tuck rolled his eyes as he cut off the exuberant girl. "You should hire a guide or adventurer to go with you. This is a big camp, it shouldn't be too hard to find someone affordable if it's money you're worried about."

"I'll be fine, I have a traveling companion." Saga smiled at the worried man. "Do you know anything about the bandits, though? Just in case?"

His frown deepened. "That's the weird thing. They're definitely bandits from what I've heard, rough men using force to get what they want, but they aren't killing or kidnapping anyone. They're just blocking the roads going to Dove's Landing. I've heard some stories of them taking valuables from the people they turn away as 'payment', though. Something about keeping the roads safe.

Saga frowned. It sounds like a protection racket, but surely people would have noticed by now if they were stealing from everyone. If the thefts are the exception rather than the rule, then that means the bandits are just trying to keep people away from Dove's Landing without drawing a lot of attention for some reason. Still...

"I'll keep that in mind. If they're not killing on sight, maybe my companion and I can reason with them." She nodded her thanks to Tuck, but before she could return to eating, Nell's piped up once more.

"But why Dove's Landing? Besides this bandit stuff, there's nothing to do there."

Saga hesitated as she finished her food, though she had the presence of mind to act like she was just considering a second helping. She hadn't considered any details beyond what she'd heard Master Dorrin say. What did she do now?

"Now Nell, each Bard's journey is their own. Isn't that right, Saga?" Gemma's voice cut through Saga's racing thoughts, and she relaxed slightly.

"Right. I'm still new to this, so I'm mostly heading there to see what there is to see. After that, I'll probably pick a new village and head there." She handed some coins to Gemma's outstretched hand, who passed them over her shoulder to the burly man busying himself in the group's large tent. The cook, Saga guessed. As she scooped a second bowl, Nell continued.

"New to the road? That's interesting! I remember my first trip. That's not hard though, it was only a year or two back. Pell remembers, right, Pell?"

Her brother grunted, picking at his bowl. He wasn't even halfway through his first helping. They were apparently fraternal twins, with matching dark hair, but their personalities couldn't be further apart. Saga noted Pell sort of reminded her of Epic, but even less prone to conversation.

"Don't mind Nell," Copel chimed in. "She's got the energy of someone twice her size, like her brother, and only half the sense."

"Rude!" Nell flicked a piece of carrot at the drummer, who leaned over to catch it in his mouth and then grinned.

Saga watched everyone interact, noting that Amos and Herb were speaking in low voices over a sheet of paper. She thought she could see musical notation on it. Discussing the next songs, maybe? Writing a new one? She mentally shrugged and went back to enjoying her food, but it wasn't long before she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Could you come with me for a moment?" It was Gemma. Her smile was neutral, but her eyes made it seem like she'd just heard a joke and was trying to hold it in. "I need to ask you something, in private."

Saga nodded and stood, bringing her bowl with her as she followed Gemma into relative privacy behind the band's tent.


Chapter 13

12 February 2025

Saga found herself in a small empty courtyard created by a ring of tents, all of which were facing away to give anyone in the courtyard some privacy. She did a full turn to see if anyone was nearby, but when she faced Gemma again she froze.

"Where did you get that mark?"

The other woman's voice was suddenly cold, such a stark contrast to her previously warm tone that it took Saga a moment to register the point of the knife pressed against her throat. She remained still instinctively, her eyes locked on Gemma's. She tried to speak, but the motion of opening her mouth was enough to make the point of the dagger prick her skin and she winced. When the other woman relented and pulled the knife back an inch, Saga swallowed and tried again. "My bard's mark? I got it from the Academy, like any other bard."

Saga glared at the copper, lifting her head slightly and trying to appear stoic and confident. She'd trained with the Guards on diplomacy and disguise, and while she wasn't so good that she could become a completely different person like some of them, she could adopt a persona as well as the next woman. That said, this was her first time trying it under pressure, and she wasn't sure she could pull it off.

The other woman's eyes crackled visibly with electricity, and a spark leapt from the tip of her blade to Saga's skin. It wasn't enough to cause harm, but the unexpected pain - obviously a warning - made her flinch. "You're lying, I know this mark's owner." Gemma reached out and snatched the mark from Saga's chest pocket, studying it closely with her free hand. Her eyes crackled again, and Saga could the hairs on her arms beginning to stand. The other woman's glare had turned from cold and steady to fiery. "What did you do to the man you took this from?"

I'll tell you what I'll do when I see him again, Saga thought. This mark is more trouble than it's worth. Out loud, she narrowed her eyes at Gemma and remained silent. Her Master had ordered her not to tell anyone she'd gotten this mark from him and she wasn't going to give up so easily, if for no other reason than she didn't want to deal with him lecturing her if she did.

Gemma studied her a moment longer, then froze. Her gaze shifted from the Saga to the mark, then back, then down slightly, then back to Saga. She blinked once, as if stunned, and before Saga could react, the copper had lowered the knife and was clutching her belly and laughing.

Saga didn't know what had gotten into the woman, but clearly Gemma found something hilarious, and Saga had a distinct impression that it was her. Despite being afraid for her life only seconds before, she found herself growing embarrassed now. "That's quite enough," she said, giving her voice as much authority as she could muster.

Gemma stopped laughing just long enough to look at Saga's face before falling to the ground, laughing even harder.

"Oh, come on!" Saga stamped her foot in indignation, and even to her own ears she sounded more like a petulant child than a dignified adventurer.

Gemma must have taken pity on her because, with that display of childishness, she finally got her laughter under control - mostly - and sat up. Her eyes were twinkling with humor now, and her voice sounded like she could break into giggles at any moment. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just...I thought you might have hurt Dorrin."

"You know Master Dorrin?" Saga's eyes widened.

"Pretty sure I made that clear, yeah." Gemma giggled as she climbed back to her feet. "The question is, how do you? I don't think you killed him for it anymore, but you'd better not have stolen it, either. An apprentice bard using a mark to perform is a serious offense, you know." The woman's words were stern, but her tone seemed more amused than anything.

"What makes you think I didn't kill him?" Saga puffed up her chest, trying to look tough, but this just made Gemma start laughing again. This, in turn, just made Saga even angrier. "What? For all you know I could have!" It wasn't that she wanted the woman to think she'd harmed Master Dorrin, but the implication that she couldn't possibly have done so was frankly insulting.

Gemma raised an eyebrow and gestured at Saga's hands, smirking. "With what, your bowl?"

Saga looked down and immediately blushed. She was still holding the bowl of vegetables, half full from her second helping. She'd held on to it the entire encounter, not once considering dropping it. She'd been so caught off guard that she hadn't even considered reaching for her weapon or gathering her Will. She opened her mouth, trying to think of how to respond, then closed it.

"Sorry for that, Saga." Gemma's smile was a little more genuine now, though she was still clearly holding in a laugh. "I think I see what's going on now. Your traveling companion you mentioned to Tuck and Nell, that's Dorrin, isn't it?"

Saga didn't see much point in trying to conceal the truth now. The cat was well and truly out of the bag. With a sigh, she nodded. "Yes. I'm on my trial, but Master Dorrin has business in the same direction so he's accompanying me." She explained to Gemma the reason for her unusual trial, but she left out the nature of her companion's own mission. She got the feeling he wouldn't be happy if she did, and she already dreaded him finding out she was telling Gemma anything. That said, despite being held at knifepoint only minutes before, and then being ridiculed, she got the feeling she could trust Gemma.

When she was done explaining the situation, the other woman nodded thoughtfully. "So, he gave you his mark so you could gather information without drawing suspicion. He had to know we'd meet, though. I mean, you said you were standing right next to our band when you two were discussing..." Her eyes widened, then closed, and she groaned loudly before putting her face in her hands. "That man...he was standing at most a few yards from me and I couldn't tell." She rubbed at her face before lowering her hands. "When I see him, I'm going to-"

"Going to what, Gem?"

Both women whirled at the sound of a third voice, only to find a man seemingly melting out of the shadows across the courtyard. Master Dorrin's face was the stoic mask Saga had grown accustomed to over the years, but his eyebrow was raised as he eyed Gemma. "Please, continue."

Gemma scowled at the old man for a moment, and Saga wondered if she was going to speak at all. When she finally did, Saga could barely hear her mutter.

"Stubborn old fox."

"Foolish little kit."

Master Dorrin grinned and easily dodged the rock Gemma threw - Saga hadn’t even seen her stoop to grab it - and walked closer, forming a triangle between the three of them. “I felt it best to make an appearance before Gem tore down the camp looking for me.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d bother to say hello sometimes,” Gemma said, still glaring at him, though Saga didn’t see any heat in her eyes. This had the feel of someone grumbling and complaining out of habit than someone genuinely upset.

In that instant, everything clicked in Saga’s mind. “You two were master and apprentice!” she blurted.

Gemma grunted, but finally smiled at her old master. “Yeah, he was my mentor when I was at the Academy. Worked me like a dog and then threw me to the wolves.”

Master Dorrin winced. “I wouldn’t put it quite like that. You were a good student. I still wish you’d taken up blade dancing as your Passion instead of singing, you could’ve been great.”

“He gave me disciplinary training almost every day,” Gemma said to Saga, ignoring the older man. “I used to think he had something against me.”

“You, too?” Saga grinned and leaned in to stage whisper conspiratorially. “He does the same thing to me, him and a few other teachers. Every day it’s extra sparring or writing an essay or practicing a new spell. I never get a moment’s rest.”

Gemma raised an eyebrow, returning the smile. “Oh, you’re a mage?”

“I’m a drake, actually, a second gold. I don’t like to show it off, though, hence the hat. You’re a second copper, right?”

“A third, actually, but I’m at the same level of strength as a second so you’d never know.” The pair looked at Master Dorrin, who stood there watching them in silent amusement. “I’m starting to think you have a type, old man. Are young women with horns your thing?”

“Now hold on now…” He raised his hands in protest. “You two are far from the only students I’m mentored, you just happen to be two of my best.”

“Really?” Saga was genuinely surprised. She was beginning to understand that there was more to her mentor than she’d previously assumed, but she’d still assumed he hadn’t thought very highly of her.

Master Dorrin sighed. “I probably shouldn’t have said that while you’re still on your trial, but it can’t be helped.”

“Don’t let him fool you, Saga,” Gemma chimed in. “He doesn’t let anything slip if he doesn’t want to. He may seem like a bitter old man who resents the youthful…”

“Hey!”

“…but he genuinely cares about his students.” Gemma gave the man a sweet smile, and Saga almost whistled in admiration. She made Saga’s best smile look like a drunkard’s gap-toothed grin.

Master Dorrin glared at Gemma, and Saga was briefly struck by how youthful he seemed on this journey. It was almost as if his usual persona, the “bitter old man” Gemma had described, was just that, a persona, and she was only now, after the better part of a decade, getting to know the real him. She made a mental note to confront him about this later.

For now, she made herself return her focus to the reason they were at the Crossroads in the first place. “Master?”

“Hm?” He looked at her patiently, his banter with Gemma over with.

“I’m sure you two have some catching up to do, but I got some information about Dove’s Landing from one of the other bards here. Do you want to hear it now, or should we wait until morning?”

“Ah, yes. Gemma, do you have a place where we can sit and talk in private?”

“Sure thing, you can use the tent. It’s made of Whisperwing hide, so it’ll keep any noise from getting out.” She led the other two back to the front of the tent and through the flap.

“Why would you need that?” Saga asked.

The other woman looked over her shoulder at her and seemed to consider her answer. “It’s so that we can practice our music without disturbing the neighbors.”

That makes sense, Saga thought as the three settled around a small Redlight lantern. It was an advanced model, with enchanted frosted glass that removed a lot of the red from the light itself. The result was a warm light that was only slightly red in tone that filled the room. As an added benefit, Saga couldn’t directly see the Redlight, for which she was grateful.

The room itself was wider than it appeared on the outside. Outside of a communal seating area around the Redlight lantern in the center of the room, the walls were ringed with boxes and sleeping cots, with some empty spaces here and there that Saga assumed were for guests or travelers.

They didn’t immediately get to business. Saga took the opportunity to finish her bowl of food while Gemma and Master Dorrin chatted idly, catching up on events since they’d last seen each other. Saga gathered it had been quite some time, which was odd considering how relatively close the Crossroads was to the city. She learned that Gemma lived at the Crossroads full-time, making a good living as a singer and not having any particular desire to travel further. Apparently she’d been one of the most vocal proponents of building a real inn at the camp, though she couldn’t afford to its construction all on her own. Saga imagined the band she’d played with having a roof over their heads and an audience to play for every night and couldn’t help but wonder why other traders weren’t immediately leaping on the idea.

As the conversation drew to a close, Saga finished the last of her vegetables and put the bowl aside. At Master Dorrin’s encouraging look, she reported to him what she’d learned from Tuck about the presence and odd behavior of the bandits on the road to Dove’s Landing.

“That’s not as strange as you’d think,” he said when she was done. “There’s a faction of bandits to the east that’s…better organized than most. Their leader keeps them on a tight leash, and they tend to only go after targets that can afford to lose some of their valuables. We haven’t been able to find their camp, either; we think they’re moving periodically to hide their presence.” He furrowed his brow. “In fact, they usually operate in the same areas that I’m heading to investigate.” He looked from Saga to Gemma, then clarified for the latter. “Some villages have been disappearing out that way. Entire populations gone, with minimal structural damage. I’m heading that way to investigate.”

Saga raised an eyebrow. “Master, are you sure it’s alright to tell her about your mission?”

He grunted. “She can be trusted, like you. It’s good for someone to know where we’ve gone in case something happens to us. If I vanish, they can find my last point of contact and investigate from there.”

He says that like he expects something to happen to him, Saga thought with a frown. Sure, he’s investigating something big, but surely he can avoid trouble if he needs to, right?

Gemma was nodding in agreement with the man. “I understand. Do you think the bandits blocking Dove’s Landing are related to the disappearances?”

“I doubt it,” he said with a shake of his head. “If this is the group I think it is, that isn’t their style. The entire point of avoiding taking too much from their victims is to stay off the radar of the local guards. They wouldn’t jump to kidnapping or killing entire villages for no reason.”

“Then why would they block off the village?” Saga asked. “If Tuck’s right, they’re not robbing people enough to make that the reason they’re there. For the most part, they’re just turning people away.”

The smile Master Dorrin gave them made Saga uneasy. “I’m not sure. Let’s go ask nicely.”

“You’re going, then?” Gemma asked, looking at him. “You should at least spend the night here. Even you can’t take on a bandit clan after a full day and night of travel, and you’ll be walking the rest of the way.”

He seemed to consider the question, and Saga gave him a hopeful look. Finally, he shook his head in resignation. “You’re right. I don’t suppose we could trouble your troupe for a place to put down our bedrolls for the night?”

Saga quietly breathed a sigh of relief, and Gemma beamed. “No worries, we keep a few spaces empty for cases like this.” She turned to Saga then. “Are you heading right to bed, or are you staying up? We can break out the apple wine and swap stories about the old fox.” She hooked a thumb at the man in question, who responded with a “Hey!” and a shake of his head.

“As long as we go easy,” Saga said, standing. “I have a long day tomorrow, apparently.”

“It’ll be fine, we’ll have a grand time!” Gemma said with a laugh, standing a placing a hand on Saga’s shoulder.

Dapper, who had spent the last hour or so dozing in Saga’s chest pocket, chose that exact moment to wake up. He stretched, crawled out of the pocket and onto Gemma’s hand, then waved a greeting to the new friend.

Gemma screamed.


Chapter 14

12 February 2025

It took Saga and Gemma several minutes to console Dapper, who rubbed his face with his forelegs as if he were crying. Gemma kept coming up with reasons why she was screaming at something besides Dapper, telling him that he was a perfect gentleman and that she didn’t find him scary in the slightest. Saga simply stroked his back gently while Gemma spoke, but she got the impression the beatweaver’s “tears” were simply for show and that he just wanted to see how far he could take this.

Eventually, Saga gave him a gentle thump on his back. “Alright, that’s enough. Any more of this and your head will grow so large you’ll pop.”

Dapper looked up at her innocently, tapping his legs on the floor.

Saga rolled her eyes, then turned to Gemma. “He graciously accepts your passable apology. His words, not mine.”

Gemma stared at Saga, then down at Dapper, and Saga could see the dawning realization behind Gemma’s eyes. “I see I’ve been had.”

“A little.” Saga giggled.

“Well played, Dapper.” Gemma saluted the spider with two fingers to her forehead. “I’ll get you back one day, just you watch.”

Dapper chittered in a sound that Saga recognized as a laugh, then scurried back up to her shoulder and settled against her neck. As he settled in, Saga stood, and she and Gemma stepped out into the night to continue their conversation. Saga stopped and turned at the door to see if their Master was joining them, but he had his head bowed and arms crossed as if deep in thought. Deciding to leave him to it, she stepped outside.

Gemma, having already claimed a seat, gestured for Saga to sit next to her and held up two mugs. “Don’t worry, I didn’t fill yours all the way,” she said with a grin.

Saga laughed and joined her, and the two sat quietly enjoying their wine while the rest of the band continued their conversations. They were largely carrying on as if nothing had happened, and Saga couldn’t help but smirk in bemusement. What seemed like only minutes ago she’d been held at knifepoint and interrogated by the woman she was now sharing a drink with. She eyed the wine in her cup, suddenly wishing she had more of it. Today’s been…a bit much.

“So, Gemma,” she began, turning towards the other woman a little, “you and Master Dorrin seem pretty close. I’m surprised I haven’t met you before if you were one of his students. He’s been my mentor for years, but I don’t recall seeing you around before.”

Gemma shrugged. “He trained me in the early years, but he wasn’t actually my teacher. Actually, Headmaster Lantos trained me himself.” She looked Saga up and down for a moment, then whispered. “You’re Saga Vance, right? I assume Rose is an alias. Don’t worry, I won’t tell the others.”

Saga nodded discreetly, then matched Gemma’s tone. “How did you know?”

Gemma grinned. “You may not have seen me, but I’ve heard about you from Dorrin. He likes you, you know, but I’ll bet a gold piece he’s never shown it.”

“I’m not taking that bet,” Saga said, chuckling. “So how do you know him, then?”

Gemma didn’t respond right away, instead staring into her mug. Just when Saga was starting to think she wouldn’t answer, Gemma spoke. “Have you heard of a mining town called Lyra’s Lode?” When Saga shook her head, Gemma continued. “It’s an iron and copper mine south of the City. I was born there. When I was little, a monster attack killed most of the miners—Tunnelmaws, I think—and those of us who survived only got away thanks to a few adventurers who happened to be nearby.

“I lost my parents in the panic, and Dorrin…he made sure I was taken care of until the monsters were wiped out and the bodies of the miners were recovered.” She paused, and while she wasn’t crying, Saga could see an old pain in her eyes. “Both of my parents were killed in the attack. I didn’t have any other family. Dorrin took me home to the city, looked after me until I was old enough to join a guild. He taught me how to fight a little before then, but when I decided I wanted to be a blade dancer like him, he refused to train me further. He never gave me a reason why, though I have my suspicions. Instead, he set me up to train with and eventually be mentored by Headmaster Lantos.”

Saga nodded in understanding. “I was in a similar position. I wanted to be trained by the Headmaster as well, but he put me under Master Dorrin instead.” She shared a commiserating smile with the other woman. “Maybe they thought we’d learn better from someone we weren’t so close to?”

“That’s my theory, yeah.” Gemma took a sip of her wine. “Dorrin always checked on me, always made time to see me. After losing my parents, it was good to have someone who was always looking out for me, you know? I lived at the Academy until I graduated, then came pretty much straight here. Still…it was nice to know he was out there. He doesn’t have any family left either, at least that I know of. He’s pretty much my father, you know? He even gave me my name when he learned I was too young at the time to know my own, and none of the other survivors knew me well enough.”

Saga tried to imagine having Master Dorrin for a father and suppressed a shudder. Instead, she nodded to Gemma, smiling. “I’ve always had my family, so I can’t pretend to know what you went through, but I know how I’d feel if I lost them all. I’m glad you had him, and I’m glad he had you.”

Gemma’s eyes shined then, and Saga realized she was about to cry. “Yeah. I don’t know what I’d do without him. We don’t always agree, and we love to banter with each other, but at the end of the day…we’re family.”

“To family, then.” Saga touched her mug to Gemma’s in a toast and then finished her wine. It was very good, slightly sour but also sweet, and it didn’t burn on the way down. She’d only recently become old enough to drink by the City’s standards, and she wasn’t overly fond of alcohol, but this was nice.

“How about you, Saga?” Gemma asked, finishing her own drink. “I know who they are, but what’s it like being one of them?”

Saga pondered the question for a moment. “Stifling, if I’m being honest. I’m proud to have a father who’s both important to the city and a master in his craft, and my mother might be an even better smith than he is. They love me, care for me…but there are realities of their position that makes things awkward. Even having a family meal in public can be an ordeal, though we still make a habit of doing so when we can.

“The real problem for me is that everyone knows I’m their daughter. I’m expected to be a master blacksmith like them, but that’s not what I want to do.” She looked down at her arms. Under the sleeves of her coat, she knew they were much more muscular than any dancer’s, even after several years of neglect. “They support me being a bard, but there’s pressure from everyone else. Everyone assumes I’m going to go on to do great things, because of who they are and because of what I am.”

Gemma widened her eyes. “Oh, right. I heard the Craftking’s daughter was a drake. Is that why you wear the hat?”

Saga nodded, then continued. “I’m a second gold, from my mother’s side. You know what it’s like when people see that you’re a drake, though. We’re not that different from normal humans, not really, but people like to put us on a pedestal.” She tilted her head back. “Some people would like that kind of attention, but combined with the attention I’m already getting because of my family…it’s overwhelming.”

“So that’s why you’re calling yourself Rose.” Gemma nodded in understanding.

“Actually, that was Master Dorrin’s idea, but that is why I think I’m going to keep using the name. Saga Rose feels…right.” Saga leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees. Dapper crawled down from her shoulder and rested on her forearm, looking up at her. With a soft smile, Saga gave his back some gentle scratches before continuing. “It’s not that I’m afraid of people finding out what I am…I just want them to see me for who I am. Yes, I was born into the Craftking’s family, and I was born a drake, but I’m more than my birthright. I want to be a master bard, an adventurer…” She looked at Gemma, blushing. “I always wanted to be a hero, like Adressa.”

“The Wind Dancer? Saga, that’s a children’s tale, like the Keepers.”

“I know that! Still, I want to be known for something that I actually have control over, you know? I didn’t choose to be born to my parents, and I didn’t choose to be a drake, but I can choose to help people.” She paused. “Am I making any sense?”

“A little.” Gemma shrugged. “I don’t really mind one way or the other if people look at me different for being a drake, it’s never really bothered me.”

“I know, it’s weird. I’m probably the only drake on Chorana that actually cares about this.” Saga sighed and closed her eyes. “Thanks for listening anyway, Gemma.”

“Call me Gem.”

Saga opened her eyes and looked at the copper. “Really?”

Gemma nodded, smiling. Her cheeks were a little flushed now, and Saga realized the wine must be hitting her by now. “Sure. As close as you are to Dorrin and I am to your grandfather, we’re practically family.” She threw an arm around Saga’s shoulders and squeezed. “Feel free to stop by anytime you’re passing through the Crossroads. You’re always welcome at our tent.”

“Alright. Thanks, Gem.” Saga paused, realized something, then raised an eyebrow. “Wait a minute, are you saying Master Dorrin rescued a small child from a mining town and named her Gemma? Gem for short?”

The copper grinned mischievously. “I almost took the last name Stone.”

“Angels above, you really are his daughter," Saga said dryly.

The pair laughed, then sat together in companionable silence for a time, leaning on each other physically and emotionally. Dapper, nestled on Gemma’s lap, enjoyed both of their attentions. Just as Saga was about to suggest that it was time for bed, the impossibly loud howl of a wolf pierced the night’s activity, and chaos descended upon the camp.


Chapter 15

12 February 2025

No sooner had Saga registered the sound than she felt a wave of weakness overtake her body. She sagged in her seat, her muscles drained of energy, and her mind raced with panic and fear. Gem, similarly hunched over next to her, was muttering something under her breath, her face strained. Dapper was pacing nervously across their laps, the beatweaver glancing up at them in concern. He stopped on Saga’s leg and drummed, but she couldn’t make out what he was trying to tell her.

What is going on?

She turned her gaze to the rest of the band, who all seemed to be suffering similarly to her. Some of them were even on the ground, alarmingly still. She tried to stand, to rush to their aid, but fell to her hands and knees. She focused, trying to force herself to her feet, but her legs felt wobbly and numb, as if they’d fallen asleep.

Master Dorrin appeared beside her as if from thin air, saying something to her, but she couldn’t make his words out. The howl was still piercing her very mind, it seemed, drowning out all other noise. Strong hands shook her shoulders, and she lifted her head to look at her Master. His face was creased with worry as he examined her, then Gem.

The other woman was in the same state as Saga, barely able to move and unable to stand. He gestured to her, pointing at his ears, and Gem nodded weakly. Saga watched as she slowly reached into a pouch at her belt and withdrew two small lumps of something before sticking them in her ears.

Earplugs? She tried to focus her thoughts. She could feel the memories of her lessons there, in the fog created by both the howl and the wine in her brain, but she couldn’t seem to dredge them up. This situation felt familiar, but she couldn’t seem to make a connection. How strong was that wine?

Master Dorrin said something she couldn’t make out to Dapper and, to her surprise, the little beatweaver began rolling together a ball of his webbing. When it was about the size of the tip of her thumb, he started on another while her master pushed the wad of webbing into her left ear. Almost immediately she felt some of her strength return, though she wasn’t sure if she could do more than stand in place if she tried. She waited patiently as the two worked on plugging her other ear, breathing a sigh of relief as soon as the unnatural howl was cut off.

She stood, giving her shaky legs a minute to recover and bolster herself. Meanwhile, Gem was tending to the band, going from person to person and putting ear plugs in their ears. Where had she gotten all of them? She turned back to Master Dorrin and, sure enough, he was wearing a pair too. Had everyone but her been prepared for this? She asked Master Dorrin what was going on, but when he didn’t respond, watching Gem, she realized they wouldn’t be able to hear each other. Tapping his shoulder to get his attention, she tried again, speaking carefully and slowly as he watched her mouth. His mouthed response made the memory she’d been fumbling come right to the front of her mind.

“Snarewolf.”

She frowned, recalling her lessons at the Academy. Direwolves were monster wolves, bigger and meaner than their mundane kin. They had two main points that set them apart as monsters: They could rally large numbers of normal wolves in a relatively short amount of time, and their howl could inflict a paralyzing fear on humans. She immediately realized that her being a drake is the reason she’d been able to move at all; one of a drake’s advantages in being an adventurer is their resistance to mental attacks. A quick survey of the band showed her that all of the people who’d fallen completely to the floor had been normal humans, while the ones who’d simply been stunned were drakes like her and Gem. Master Dorrin had probably been partially spared by the whisperwing hide inside the tent, though she was still impressed by his response time.

Saga looked around their campsite at the surrounding tents and wagons. Everywhere she looked people were broken up into the same three groups: Those who’d succumbed to the Snarewolf’s howl, those who had somehow resisted the effect but were still incapacitated, and a minority group of adventurers and Guards who ran to and fro, completely unaffected. This latter group were likely the ones who were quick to react with ear plugs, like her Master.

A tap at her shoulder brought her attention back to her new friends. Gem and Master Dorrin were having a conversation, both of them reading each others’ lips. Nell, who’d apparently been the one to get her attention, was holding up a vial for Saga to see. It was filled with an amber liquid that vaguely resembled honey, and Nell was pantomiming the act of drinking it for Saga’s benefit.

She eyed the vial suspiciously as she accepted it from the platinum girl, but when Nell urgently motioned for her to drink it, she gave in and did. The bitter flavor that filled her mouth had more in common with vinegar than honey, and it made her cough. Nearby, she heard Gem and a couple of the others coughing as well, but it only took a few seconds for Saga to feel the effects of the potion. All of the mental fuzziness and warmth of the wine she’d consumed had vanished, as if she’d been drinking nothing but water. She couldn’t help but give the now-empty vial a begrudgingly appreciative look before handing it back to Nell, who pocketed it and went to stand by her brother.

Saga made eye contact with Gem, who smiled grimly, and joined her in front of Amos and Dorrin. The two men were speaking with each other, though Saga couldn’t read their lips from where she stood, not that she’d been much good at it to begin with. She only waited a few moments before a decision was apparently made, and the two men began pointing to various members of the band. Amos took Nell, Herb, and Tuck with him and ran down the row of tents, stopping to help those who were still paralyzed get to safety, while the remaining band members and Saga remained with Master Dorrin.

He turned to Saga, his face serious, and pointed at his eyes, and then the sky. She nodded her understanding and, taking a few steps away to give herself space, gathered her Will. The wind gathered around her feet like a loyal hound, building up pressure until she thought it might send her flying. Just when she didn’t think she could hold it together anymore, she allowed to it to escape in only a single direction: up. The process of casting the spell took less than a second, but the results were spectacular, at least in Saga’s opinion. The blast of air launched her into the sky, and she spun in midair as she ascended, looking for signs of trouble.

There. She caught a glimpse of a group of armored men near one of the southern entrances to Cristin’s Crossroads, waving torches to hold back what looked like a solid mass of brown, black, and grey fur. More and more humans were running in their direction, but their numbers wouldn’t be enough.

She gathered the wind below her one more time as she fell, softening her landing, and turned back to the group, pointing in the direction she’d seen the commotion. Master Dorrin nodded approvingly, while Gem gave her a thumbs up. The three of them, joined by Copel and Pell, raced off to join in the camp’s defense. A haste spell from Saga, with a little extra effort of Will, enveloped the party, allowing them to move faster, and they arrived at the battle in less than a minute.

“Battle” was the appropriate word for what they found. Guards, wearing the uniform armor of Beacon’s Ridge, held the front line against the pressing horde of wolves, keeping their shields raised and striking out with their swords and spears when an opening presented itself. Behind them, a few men and women in plain travelers’ clothes, either traders or travelers, flung spells and fired arrows over the guards’ heads and shoulders. As Saga and the others arrived, she saw other groups also trickling in in twos and threes, racing to join the defense in the best ways they could.

She almost lost the concentration of her group haste spell as they arrived. The defense was going as well as one could expect despite the lack of audible communication, but the sea of fur and fangs that laid beyond the wall of steel gave her pause. The wolves were more ferocious than Saga had imagined, surging forward and clashing against the defenders. The Guards’ shields and metal grieves and bracers were enough to blunt most of the attacks, but it seemed every few seconds a wolf’s fangs was closing on someone’s relatively unprotected thigh or bicep. As she watched, one Guard overextended himself to lunge at a wolf harassing one of his comrades, only to have another clamp down on his unguarded throat. The man’s scream was almost immediately cut off as he was dragged away from the camp.

Yards away, a drake with curved golden horns, like Saga’s but more prominent, held his hands forward and seemed to be struggling against an unseen force. In front of him, a wall of fire gouted from the ground. It was only a few yards wide, but it was enough to force the wolves to go around it, granting the defenders next to the drake a brief reprieve to catch their breath. A guard in armor was being dragged away from that point, evidently having fallen before the drake stepped in. After a few seconds of maintaining the wall, the drake fell backwards, clearly exhausted, and he was too hauled away while the remaining defenders filled the gap.

Elsewhere, an archer stood atop a tent, the roof evidently reinforced. Saga could see them take aim with a bow, slowly sweep the point of the arrow across the firing line, then release. The arrow flew true, but the wolf it had been meant for happened to leap at its human opponent before the arrow could find its mark. The archer made a sharp gesture to the side with one hand, and the arrow curved sharply in midair, piercing the wolf’s heart with an almost audible thud. The archer’s shoulders sagged slightly, but they rested only a moment before drawing another arrow to repeat the process.

As Saga watched the archer, she saw a shape rise up behind the archer, as if melting out of the ground itself. It resembled a dog crawling out of a hole it’d spent all day digging. Almost like…

“Look out!” she cried out, but she was too far for the archer to hear her warning, even without the earplugs. She could only watch helplessly as the dark figure finished forming behind the archer before leaping at their back, knocking them off the roof in a spray of blood. Master Dorrin, apparently also having seen the attack, had his hand cocked back with a knife ready to throw, but it was already too late; the archer and wolf both had fallen out of view.

That was finally enough to make Saga freeze as the others ran ahead. Only Master Dorrin stopped to look at her, knife still in hand. He took in her face in what seemed to be an instant, grimaced, and gestured for her to remain where she was. She watched him go off to battle with the others, unable to move, wanting more than anything to protest, to join them, but every time her eyes drifted back to the fray all she saw was more death. The defenders’ numbers were constantly being bolstered by reinforcements, but it wasn’t enough. Surely there are more people that can still fight? Maybe they just don’t know where we are?

A beacon. She could manage that much. She knew her dancing saber was poorly suited to the enemy they faced, especially as the battle lines stood, but she could use her magic to help. Please, angels above, let this work this time. She looked around, making she wasn’t near anything flammable, then focused her Will. She pictured what she wanted, and how she wanted it to happen. Fire, a pillar of it, a beacon to guide the camp’s defenders to where they were needed most. Using that mental image as a mold, she poured her Will into it until a small fire formed between her hands and began to grow.

Almost immediately, the spell went wrong. She was a child again, staring into a Redlight in her father’s forge. It was whispering to her, calling to her, but she couldn’t understand it. She needed to make it bigger, make it louder, she needed to hear what it said. The younger Saga did…something, and the Redlight grew. The crystalline red flame fed on whatever she did to it, expanding, its voice becoming more frantic, more urgent. Just when she thought she could begin to make out words, the world went red.

Back in the physical world, the fireball in Saga’s hand erupted into the sky, not as a shining pillar of flame, but as the massive explosion that had replaced it in her mind. For a blessing, it still followed the path she’d projected for it, shooting straight into the sky, but the unexpected shockwave it created sent her to the ground, the breath knocked out of her. Nearby tents, while spared the flames, were knocked to the ground, and several people who’d been passing nearby were sent stumbling away, trying to keep their footing as they rushed to join the defense.

Saga lay on the ground, dazed, and watched the firestorm above her. It burned brightly, filling her vision. Her right eye burned, as if newly injured, and she could feel fire and blood mingling there. She covered the spot with a hand, expecting to find an injury, but her eye felt normal. Even as her fingers grazed unbroken skin, she could feel her eye burning. Dragon’s breath, make it stop.

A small part of her, the part still lucid despite the shock, told her to ignore the eye, to focus on the rest of her body. She heard a strange sound, and in her disoriented state it took her a moment to realize her ears were ringing, and a sharp pain pulsed behind the earplugs. She fumbled at one, pulling it out. Something warm flowed out of her ear as soon as she removed the plug, and it glistened red in the firelight when she observed it.

She stared dumbly at the bloody ball of webbing, turning it over and over in her fingers. Why is there blood? Dragon’s damnation, why is it so hot? Oh, right. Something moved at the edge of her vision, tiny arms waving frantically. “Dapper?” She mumbled, though she still couldn’t hear anything, even with one of the earplugs removed. She forced herself to sit up, looking down at the beatweaver now in her lap. He seemed concerned, tapping away at her leg. Saga barely registered what he was saying, a single word repeated over and over.

“Run? Run from what?”

The spider pointed, and she could swear his expressionless face looked exasperated. She turned her head in the direction he pointed - why was everything moving so slowly? - and struggled to make sense of what she saw. A few yards away, where a tent cast a dark shadow in the light of her beacon, something stirred. She was certain there was nothing there one moment, but the next a wolf had appeared. It was as if it had melted out of the shadows, looking like a dog climbing out of a river but somehow completely dry. It looked at her, its eyes catching the fiery red light, and it was shortly joined by two more of its kind.

The trio of wolves stepped out of the shadow and prowled closer to her. Unlike the wolves attacking the defenders, these were cautious, stealthy. The roaring flames over their heads seemed to make them nervous. Somewhere at the back of her mind Saga knew she was in danger, but she couldn’t bring herself to move, to cry for help. Her body felt numb, and every motion felt like she was moving through water. She watched the wolves, focusing her eyes on them as best she could. They almost seemed kind of cute. She wanted to run her hands through that soft, black fur, bury her face in it. She smiled as they drew closer, holding out a hand as if to a strange dog.

The wolves paused, tilting their heads in confused unison, and she couldn’t stop an “Aww…” from escaping her lips. One of them, the one in the center, stretched his neck forward, sniffing in Saga’s direction from only a few feet away. “It’s okay, it’s okay…” she whispered.

The wolf either didn’t understand her, or didn’t care. Its lips curled back, exposing teeth that already bore flecks of blood, and the other wolves joined it in growling threateningly at her. That finally got through her foggy mind, and she pulled her hand away. “Okay, fine, it’s not okay…” She reached for her sword, but she’d fallen in such a way that it was pinned beneath her. She struggled with it as the wolves stalked closer, finally drawing it and swinging it ineffectually at them. The swing missed them by inches, but it was enough to make them hesitate. The two on either side shifted sideways, preparing to circle her, when the earth erupted at their feet.

A bolt of lightning churned the ground, carving a line between Saga and her attackers and blinding her for a moment. She blinked rapidly, trying to will away the afterimages created by the flash of light. When she succeeded, all that remained of the three wolves were unrecognizable lumps of charred flesh and bone. She looked around, but as the beacon she’d created finally began to fade, couldn’t make much out. She fell onto her back once more, suddenly exhausted.

As her vision began to swim, she saw a face hovering over hers, framed by red hair and copper-colored horns. The beautiful hazel eyes that stared down at her were creased with worry, and Saga was disappointed when they looked away from her. The woman shouted something Saga couldn’t hear, and a moment later another familiar face looked down at her, a man this time. The light reflecting off his platinum horns hurt her eyes. Why was it so bright?

The last thing she saw before darkness came was the red-haired woman staring down at her once more.


Chapter 16

12 February 2025

Saga shot straight up, her eyes wide in panic. It was dimly lit, and she couldn’t make out the faces that surrounded her. Hands pressed firmly against her chest, trying to force her back down. She struggled at first, trained instinct making her lash out with a fist. She hit something, and the hands fell away, only to be replaced by several more pairs. She screamed, but the hands finally won, and she felt her back hit the soft blankets beneath her.

Blankets?

She blinked rapidly, trying to make her eyes adjust faster to the dim light. Familiar faces came into view, a rugged older man with a grey beard - Master Dorrin - and a young woman with short red hair - Gem. She forced herself to breathe deeply, trying to slow her racing heartbeat. She was safe. “Master? Gem?” she croaked, her voice rough even to her own ears. Gem helped her sit up, a hand to her back, and pressed the mug in the other hand to Saga’s lips. She drank, feeling the water instantly cool the throat she hadn’t realized felt raw. She wiped her mouth when she was done, then looked from Gem to her Master. “What happened? Why is it so dark? Where’s Dapper?” She felt the top of her head. “Where’s my hat?”

“It’s the middle of the night,” Gem said, putting her index finger to her lips with one hand and handing Saga the hat with the other. “You know, the time people usually sleep.”

“Dapper is fine,” the older man added. “I asked him to keep watch for Shadepaws. Quiet, now.”

Saga winced as she accepted the hat, clutching it tight and lowering her voice. Shadepaws. I remember them from Blake’s Bestiary, she thought. That explains how they appeared so suddenly. “Sorry. What happened?” she repeated.

“You saved a lot of lives, I think,” said Master Dorrin. “Your little fire show revealed a lot of Shadepaws sneaking through the camp, enough to send up the alarm. Combined with the reinforcements who came running because of your spell, we were able to repel the rest of the wolves and kill the Shadepaws who’d made it in. Some teams are still sweeping the camp, but we’re confident the danger has passed.”

“That was good work,” Gem said, nodding in agreement. “Not exactly precise, but you got the job done. You were pretty banged up. Why did you set off an explosion right over your head like that? You’re lucky you survived.” Gem was staring at her, her face concerned, and Saga felt a small tug at her heart.

She frowned, closing her eyes. What had gotten into her? “I was trying to make a beacon, but it sort of…blew up in my face. Literally.”

The old man sighed. “I thought you were getting better, Saga.”

“I am!” she protested, then winced again at her own raised voice. “Sorry. I am, but it still happens sometimes, especially with big spells.”

“What do you mean?” Gem asked, looking back and forth between the two. “Does this happen a lot?” Her eyes settled on Saga. “You’re a golden, aren’t you? Fire magic should be second nature to you.”

“It should.” Saga knew her tone was bitter, but the subject always made her feel this way. “It’s a long story. S uffice it to say I have power to spare, but not as much control over fire as I’d like.” She looked to Master Dorrin. “It hadn’t happened in a while, so I thought I was better. Maybe it’s because the spell was too big?”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Try not to use big spells like that until you can figure this out, then. You won’t always have a healer on hand to mend you when you burn your hair off.”

“My what!?” Saga shrieked, wincing a third time when a lump across the tent groaned, and several hushing sounds came to her. She patted her hair, but it was intact, braid, charm, and all. “Don’t scare me like that!” she hissed.

A chuckle was her only answer, and Gem’s grin could barely be seen in the low light. “Speaking of which,” she said, “you owe Pell a thank you, and an apology.”

“An apology?”

“My nose is fine, thanks for asking.” A man’s voice came from behind Gemma, where someone was hunched over facing away from the trio. She realized the figure was holding their face, and suddenly she knew what, or who, she’d punched.

“Oh, sorry Pell.” Saga smiled sheepishly. “You’re the one who put me back together?”

The blond man turned to face them, the blood on his lip already dried. “Yeah. Dorrin said you have some decent healing skill yourself, but your injuries were severe and we weren’t sure you could wait until you woke up to heal yourself.” He gingerly rubbed his nose. “Make sure you eat something, then go back to sleep. You’ll be fine in the morning.” He gave her a thumbs up. When she nodded her thanks, he smiled, stood, and walked to another part of the tent, presumably to find his cot.

Gem watched him go, then looked back to Saga, snickering. “You really got him, poor guy. He’s had such a busy night, too.”

Saga didn’t doubt it. For all those who’d died during the attack, there were likely many more who’d been injured, and while most mages knew a healing spell, most of them weren’t skilled enough in it to treat more than basic injuries. Platinums like Pell and his sister were a valuable resource in times like this, and Saga had yet to meet a platinum who would let suffer so long as they had the Will to treat them.

Her stomach growled suddenly, loud enough that she was half afraid it would wake the closest sleepers. “I’ll give him a proper apology in the morning. Is there any food?”

Master Dorrin, eyes twinkling in amusement, offered her a bowl of fruit. “We figured. Here. Eat what you can, then go to sleep. We’re leaving in the morning.”

Saga nodded, setting her hat on her pack and accepting the bowl. He stood as she took it and turned towards the door. “Where are you going?”

He smiled back at her. She still hadn’t gotten used to that. “I’m just going to check in with Amos. He’s with one of the groups patrolling the camp for Shadepaws.”

“But he’s not a mage, is he? How can he find them?”

His smile became a grin. “Lanterns. Magic isn’t the only way to solve your problems, Saga.” With that, he disappeared out into the night.

Saga watched him go before turning her attention back to the fruit bowl, selecting a green apple, her favorite, and taking a bite. She munched quietly for a moment, savoring the taste, before remembering she wasn’t alone. She looked up to see Gem watching her, hazel eyes and copper horns glinting in the dim light but face otherwise unreadable. Their eyes met, and the moment seemed to stretch on forever. Saga could feel her cheeks begin to grow warm, though she was unsure why. What has gotten in to me?

Desperate to break the sudden tension, she reached into the basket, grabbed something, then presented it to the other woman. “Uh…apple?”

Gem smiled and accepted the offered fruit. “Thanks.” She bit into it and closed her eyes as she chewed.

Oh, she was just hungry, Saga thought, slightly disappointed. Wait, why was she disappointed? She shook her head to clear it, then continued eating.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Gem stood and stretched. “I’m going to join Amos, I’m not tired yet. Get some rest, Saga.”

Saga opened her mouth to protest, closed it, then finally spoke. “Alright. I’ll see you in the morning, before we leave.”

“Of course,” Gem replied, making her way to the tent flap. She paused there, looked around the tent, then grinned back at Saga, whispering. “Oh, by the way…”

“Hm?”

“You’ve got some gorgeous eyes, yourself.” With a wink, she vanished into the night.

Saga blinked once, twice, then buried her red face in her hands, mortified.

Did I say that out loud!?

———

The following morning brought a flurry of activity. Despite her injuries and subsequent healing, Saga woke at dawn feeling much better. The tent was empty; she supposed everyone else was already up and about. Dapper greeted her from her hat, and she smiled at seeing him safe. “There you are. Are you ready to go talk to some bandits?”

He tapped out his affirmative and hopped on her shoulder as she carried her pack to the privacy screen to change into fresh traveling clothes. Her coat was still clean from the previous day, so she continued to wear it.

The two stepped out into the bustling camp, where, despite the relatively early hour, people were already running back and forth going about their daily tasks. There were tents to repair, wounds to mend, and inventories to take. She wasn’t sure where to find Dorrin, but she was happy to see Amos sitting in front of the band’s cook fire, stirring something in the pot.

The old man nodded pleasantly to her as she emerged. “Morning, Saga. There’s still some breakfast for you, if you’ve a hunger.”

She’d finished the fruit bowl before going to sleep, but already she could feel hunger gnawing at her stomach again. “Yes, please.” She smiled, then sat next to him. “Sorry for sleeping in, I suppose. I didn’t think I’d be the last one to wake. Surely Nell and Pell needed to rest, too, at the very least.”

He hesitated, then waved dismissively with one hand while he grabbed a bowl for her. “Nah, they’re fine. They’re tougher than they look, especially the girl.”

“But, the healing…”

“Don’t you worry about that, Saga,” he said, cutting her off as he handed her the now filled bowl. “They got enough rest, and now they’re back to work. There aren’t a lot of healers in the camp, you know, so the few we have get plenty of practice. They couldn’t get everyone back on their feet last night, there were too many injured. They stabilized everyone who was in bad shape, and now today they’ll be working on finishing up patching up those who need it.”

She accepted the bowl and suppressed a grimace at its contents. Porridge. She told herself she shouldn’t snub a free meal, a sentiment her stomach audibly approved, and began to eat quickly. “Where are Master Dorrin and Gem?” she asked between mouthfuls.

“They’re in the courtyard, having a discussion of some kind,” Amos replied, hooking a thumb to the area behind the tents. “You can join them when you’ve finished eating.”

Saga nodded, focusing on doing just that. Dapper tapped at her leg, telling her he was going to go hunt. “Alright, come find me in an hour. I’m sure he wants to leave early.” Even now the grey light was beginning to grow brighter, and soon enough the sunrise would be upon them. She had the feeling her master would want to be on the road by then. Dapper saluted, then vanished with a leap.

When she was done, Saga passed the bowl back to Amos then stood and stretched. “Thank you, Amos. That was…”

“Nasty?” The old man chuckled.

“I was going to say ‘nutritious’.” Saga said innocently, giving him her best smile.

He grinned back at her. “I’m not the best cook, and I know it, but I can keep you fed. I was the only one with nothing in particular to do this morning, so I got stuck with the pot.”

“I appreciate it, Amos.” She said, giving him a small bow. “I’m sure it’ll keep me going on the road.” She waved her goodbye to him, then headed to the courtyard to find her friend and mentor.

“-not ready!”

Gem’s voice was a low hiss, and Saga almost didn’t recognize it. She paused where she stood and waited, deciding not to interrupt whatever was going on.

“She’s got power in spades, and her control will only improve.” Master Dorrin’s voice was equally low, but he seemed more calm than Gem. “She’s one of the best dancers I’ve trained. You’re a wizard with a knife, Gem, but she could probably even take you.”

Are they talking about me?

Gem snorted. “I doubt it. She doesn’t have a fighter’s instincts. If I’d wanted to kill her last night she’d be dead, and she wouldn’t have been able to stop me. She’s not ready, Dorrin!”

Well that’s just rude.

“She has to be. Something’s happening out east.” The way he stressed the last words made them seem significant, and Gem seemed to catch whatever meaning he intended because she didn’t speak for a moment.

When she finally spoke again, her voice was…pleading? “I like her, Dorrin. She’s got plenty of charm, charm for days, and that spell definitely packed a punch. She’ll be a great adventurer one day, I agree with you on that, but she’s not ready for this.

What are they talking about? Ready for what? Ready to be a bard?

“Were you ready when you started? She’ll learn, Gem. I suspect our chat with those bandits won’t go as peacefully as we hope, and then she’ll have her real trial by fire. If she doesn’t hold her own when the time comes…” He sighed. “Then I’ll take your advice and withdraw my support for her initiation.”

Initiation?

Gem’s voice was softer. “That’s all I ask. I don’t want either of you getting hurt because you think she’s ready for the wolf’s den.”

Saga couldn’t take it anymore. She stepped loudly in place a few times, making it sound like she was just now approaching, then stepped out into the courtyard with a bright smile. They turned to her as she approached, and she waved. “Good morning, you two.” She looked back and forth between them, taking in their expressions. Master Dorrin was unreadable as always, but Gem at least had the awareness to look embarassed. “Is everything okay? I heard people talking and it sounded serious.”

“What all did you hear?” Master Dorrin asked, his brow furrowed.

“Nothing much. Something about expecting a fight?” Saga shrugged. “I take it you don’t think the bandits will be pleasant company.”

He shook his head. “It’s not likely, no. You’ll need to be ready for a real fight, Saga. This will be your first time fighting a human opponent who genuinely wants to kill you. Are you prepared for that eventuality?”

The two looked at her expectantly, but she waved it off. “I can handle myself in a fight, Master. They won’t stand a chance.” She slammed her fist into her palm with a grin. “Besides, I’ll have the best backup around.”

Master Dorrin nodded, though it seemed reluctant, and Gem gave him a pointed look. “I’m just worried about you, kid,” she said, turning back to Saga. “We may not fight for a living, but in today’s world it’s bound to happen eventually. Your first time can be…rough.”

Oh, we’re back to kid now? Saga frowned, suddenly feeling petty. “I’ll be fine. The fireball and the pointy stick go in the bad guys, and I avoid theirs. Even I can figure that out.”

Gem winced. “I didn’t mean-“

“I’ll be fine, Gemma.” Saga said pointedly. “Are you ready to go, Master? Dapper’s off hunting but he can find me when he’s done. I just need to grab my pack from the tent.”

Master Dorrin looked from her to Gem, then back again. “I am, but Saga, Gem’s trying to help. She’s been through a lot for someone her age. She’s speaking to you from experience.”

Saga looked at Gem. The woman’s eyes - angels above, those eyes - were fixed on her, and she met her gaze for a short time before sighing. “I appreciate it, Gem. But really, I’ll be okay. Master Dorrin taught me how to fight, and it’s been a while since I lost a duel to anyone but him.”

Gem hesitated, then nodded. “I know. He told me you’re a good student. Just…be careful. Anything can happen.”

“I will. Thanks, Gem.” Saga said. Without giving herself time to consider it, she stepped forward and gave her a tight hug. “I’ll see you on the way back?”

Gem returned the hug, and Saga felt her nod. “You’d better.”

They parted, and, unsure of how else to proceed, Saga gave Gem a small wave before heading back to the tent to grab her pack. She heard Master Dorrin mutter something to Gem as she departed, though she didn’t catch it this time, and when she emerged from the tent he was waiting for her, along with Gem and Amos.

The latter two remained at the cookfire as Saga and her mentor departed, both parties calling out their farewells until they were out of sight. Saga looked at Master Dorrin as they reached the edge of the camp and headed for the distant forest. “Do you really expect trouble ahead? From what we’ve heard these bandits are on the reasonable side, such as they can be.”

He grunted, keeping his eyes forward. “Saga, I’ve learned to always expect trouble. That way I’m either ready, or pleasantly surprised.”


Chapter 17

12 February 2025

It took the better part of the morning to reach the forest. As Saga had expected, it didn’t take long for Dapper to materialize on her shoulder, tapping out his greeting then settling in for the trip. They passed only a single traveller as they passed the first trees, a trader who’d been turned away at the roadblock they’d heard about. The bandits had taken some of the traders goods, mostly food and wine, then sent him back unharmed. The man seemed shaken but otherwise alright, and the pair reassured him the road back to Cristin’s Crossroads was relatively safe. Having sent him on his way, Saga and Master Dorrin stopped to plan.

“You’re going first.”

Saga blinked. Master Dorrin had led with that, catching her completely off guard. “Beg pardon?”

He chuckled at her. “I’m big and threatening. They might be more likely to resort to violence if they see two-well armed travelers heading their way. Best they see a only a pretty girl to keep their guard down. You can get a feel for the situation, and if it looks like they’re going to turn hostile, we’ll attack.”

“What if they get the drop on me?”

“I’ll be watching, don’t worry. Besides, I know you have a few tricks up your sleeve if that happens.”

Saga nodded. “Do you really think they’ll attack me? They were polite enough to the trader. Relatively speaking, of course.”

Master Dorrin frowned. “He said he met them a few hours ago. There’s a chance they’ll have changed out their guard by the time we arrive, and even these bandits aren’t a homogenous lot. You might get more friendly types that’ll take some coin and send you on your way, or you might run into some who want…more.”

She felt a chill run up her spine, but she nodded again. He was right, she had ways of defending herself. Those poor bastards wouldn’t know what hit them if they tried something. “Do you have any suggestions on how I should proceed?”

He shrugged. “I’m letting you take the lead on this one. Just approach them, keep their guard down, get information if you can, pass if they’ll let you, prepare for a fight otherwise. How you do all that is up to you.”

“I thought you said if bandits got involved, you’d be in charge.”

“I am in charge, and I’m delegating the task to you.” He grinned, and it somehow filled her with confidence. “I’ll be following from the bushes. I’m no ranger, but I can be stealthy enough when needed, and I’ll try to get a count on their numbers. Dapper can communicate between us, right?”

She looked down at her beatweaver friend. “It would be one way, but yes. You can speak to him, give him orders, and he can pass them on to me discreetly. Can you do that for us, Dapper?” The spider saluted her and hopped onto Dorrin’s shoulder. Saga continued, “If you need to ask him a question, Master, he can give you numbers, and answer yes or no questions. One tap for yes, two for no.”

Master Dorrin nodded and looked down at his new passenger. “Are you ready, little friend?” The beatweaver tapped once, loud enough for them both to hear, and the other two nodded in acknowledgement.

It was time to move.

Saga walked for what felt like hours, but was likely only one based on the presence of the sun still directly overhead, filtering through the forest canopy. She felt alone, even knowing she had two shadows watching over her. I need to do something to break the silence, she thought. I don’t want to surprise these people, the last thing I need is a crossbowman firing a panic shot at me.

Making a decision, she pulled out her flute and began to play. It was her favorite travelling song, a repeating series of notes with minor variations that would take a while to grow boring. The music echoed, bouncing off the trees surrounding her and filling the air. Surely they wouldn’t miss this, and she had to be getting close to where they’d set up their checkpoint.

There.

She almost missed him, a figure in brown and green hiding in low brush, his bow low to the ground. She watched him out of the corner of her eye but continued to play, not letting on she’d noticed him. He was on the opposite side of the road from her allies, but she was certain if she’d seen the man then her mentor would have, too.

Sure enough, she felt a light wait settle across the back of her neck, and Dapper’s message confirmed that Dorrin had not only seen the man hiding on her right, but had also had to skirt a second archer on her left. Saga winced. I missed one. I need to be better.

She could feel the man on her right following alongside and slightly behind her, and eventually she noticed the woman on her left, too. Two so far. There have to be more. What are they waiting for?

A bend in the road revealed her answer: two wagons were set across the road as she came around, likely to prevent mounted charges or other wagons from crashing through their blockade. A group of four bandits lounged around the wagons, clearly not expecting a threat. She couldn’t help but be proud that one of them seemed to be nodding along to her song. Don’t let it get to you, Saga, she warned herself. Bad guys like music, too.

During her time at the Academy, Saga had spent her free time mingling with some of the Guards and their instructors. On occasion, she was even allowed to attend their training sessions when it didn’t conflict with her usual lessons. Sometimes this was unarmed combat, and other times it was Investigations. She trained with the young men and women who learned how to deal with the criminal element. Most of the training was useless to her, fun though it was, but there were still others that would serve her well here. How to win people over, how to become another person…and how to seem helpless.

She came to a stop, pretending to have just noticed the blockade, and her eyes went wide. “Oh, good day! Did my song scare off your horses?” She looked at each of the rough-looking men in turn, giving them her best smile. “I could send someone here from the village to come help you when I arrive.”

She heard a few of the men chuckle. One of them, the man who’d been enjoying her song, hopped down from his wagon and grinned, approaching her. His face was dirty, but she got the feeling it might have been intentional. She’d heard of rangers smearing dirt across their faces to hide in the wilderness, and the two archers she’d passed proved these people had at least some concept of stealth.

“Good day to you, girl.” He looked her up and down, and she couldn’t tell if his eyes were appraising her clothes, or her body. Both, probably. “Yeah, you scared ‘em off. Poor things ain’t never heard playing that bad before. Sorry to say, you won’t be passing through here. This here’s a quarantine blockade. No one in or out.”

“Quarantine?” Saga didn’t have to fake the shock. None of the people who’d been turned away had mentioned this. “Is it…the plague?”

One of the men, a pale man with Tandolki features and a sword at his hip, shrugged. “Dunno. Captain made the decision this morning. They’re going to let the village die out, and we’re here to make sure it don’t spread.”

“I see. Perhaps I should go back to the City and fetch healers?” She kept her eyes wide and innocent, using the real emotions she felt, concern and anxiety, to fuel her act. “If I get a horse from the Crossroads it shouldn’t take long. Then you guards don’t have to sit here in the middle of the road all day.” She gave the men a slight bow and turned. “I’ll return as quickly as I’m able.”

“Not so fast, girl.”

She froze at the words. It was the dirty-faced man, apparently the leader. Slowly, she turned, using her inner nerves to sell the anxious smile. “Yes, sir?”

“What’s a lone girl like you doing out here? Where’s your caravan?”

Saga let her smile falter slightly. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m a bard, you see. I was sent to the village to collect a song.” The other men were approaching now, and she could sense the archers still hiding in the brush to either side. “I can play the flute-“

“S’that what you call it?” one of the other men said, getting a laugh from his friends.

“Maybe it’s her instrument?” said another. “I’ve got another flute she can try.” More laughter.

Saga forced herself to keep smiling despite the growing warmth in her cheeks. “I can also play the drum, if one of you has one, or I can dance.”

“Can you sing?” the first man asked. He almost seemed genuinely curious. Maybe these were the honorable bandits after all?

“I think it’s best for everyone involved if I don’t, good sir, or your horses will never come back,” she said. She feigned meekness, trying to keep them busy until she got a signal from her master or they showed signs of turning on her.

“Well then, I suppose I’ll have to settle for that dance.” The first man placed a hand on her shoulder, gripping it tightly, and the surrounding men began to jeer and laugh.

Alright, maybe they’re not the honorable ones. “I really should be going.” She tried to take a step back, but his grip was strong. She didn’t dare try to break it, lest she give herself away. Not yet.

“Nonsense. You have plenty of time to get back to the Crossroads. How about you entertain me and my, er…fellow guards.” He put his other hand on her cheek - she had to suppress a shudder - then traced his fingers up to where her hair disappeared into her hat. “What say we get rid of this thing and make you more comfortable for our show?”

Here it comes…

“Please be gentle with it!” she blurted out, surprising the man and his friends. She forced a stammer into her voice. “The hat…it was a gift from my grandfather. Please…”

The leader’s eyes narrowed, studying her while the other men continued to taunt her. She began to feel hands on her back, her arms. Her instincts screamed her to run, but she needed to hold on a little longer. Instead, she used that fear as a disguise, her eyes wide and body trembling.

Wait for it…

His expression changed; he’d dismissed her as a threat. “We’ll be real gentle with you, girl, as long as you’re a better dancer than you are a flutist.” With a flourish, he whipped the hat from her head and threw it over his shoulder in one smooth motion, and the world slowed to a crawl.

His eyes widened in alarm, fixed on a point just above her hairline on the sides of her head. A sunbeam filtering down caused golden light to reflect off of her horns and play across his face as she turned her head, whipping her braid around to come directly between herself and the man.

“She’s-!“

Now!

In that instant, she released the Will she’d been gathering, reached out to the silver rose hair clasp her brother had given her, and triggered it. A blast of force more powerful than any windstorm she’d ever experienced exploded from her. She remained untouched at the eye of the storm, but all four of the men around her were sent flying into the carts and the trees.

The world returned to normal speed as she stood, getting her bearings. The archer on her left cried out, but she was cut short; Saga’s Master had taken his first victim. Thinking fast, she turned towards where she knew the other archer was hiding, gathered her Will once more, and Leaped into the air at him. She felt weightless as she closed the distance, drawing her sword and preparing to fight. A sharp pain crossed her shoulder a split second before she heard the sound of an arrow impacting a branch behind her.

She cried out, but kept her eyes focused on the archer. The man was already moving his hand to draw another arrow from his quiver, but it was too late. When she was directly overhead, she cast Crush, magnifying her body weight and sending her crashing straight down on top of the archer. She landed hard, and she heard a sickening crunch. He’ll feel that in the morning, she thought, wincing at the pain in her shoulder. She stepped away from the man, putting her back to a tree and taking stock of her situation.

There were at least two bandits down, and the other four would probably get back up sooner rather than later. You need to focus on your strengths, she told herself. She’d fought multiple opponents before, but that had only been training. Keep moving, don’t let them get closer than your sword. You can do this. She looked down at her shoulder, grimacing. The wound was shallow, only a red line across her now bare skin. She looked down at the wounded man in front of her. “This is my favorite coat, you jerk!” She gave him a swift kick for good measure, then froze.

He hadn’t moved. He hadn’t even made a single sound when she’d landed on him. Even if he was knocked out he would have reacted to the kick, right? She knelt down to check on the man despite the danger. His chest had been caved in, she realized, and fresh blood poured from his mouth. His eyes stared blankly at the forest canopy.

He was dead.

Her blood ran cold, her stomach sick. She hadn’t meant to kill him, just knock him down until…

Are you prepared for that eventuality?

Master Dorrin’s words from that morning echoed in her ears, and she realized, suddenly and certainly, that she was not.

“You crushed Georgie! You crazy cow!”

She looked up, snapped out of her thoughts by the arrival of one of the other bandits. It was the swordsman. He rushed at her with sword in hand, swinging wildly. She brought her saber up in a practiced defense and swept his attack harmlessly to the side before dancing around him, leaving shallow cuts across his sword arm and back by reflex. The sight of real blood welling through his tunic made her pause long enough for him to recover from her attacks, and he squared off with her, more careful this time. She continued to circle him, reminding herself over and over to keep moving.

This had the added benefit of giving her the lay of the land. Two of the other three bandits were on the ground, an unmoving figure with his back horribly broken and twisted, and the other with a neat cut across his throat. This one was still thrashing, clutching at his bleeding throat uselessly. The man was already dead unless he received a Heal in the next few seconds. Part of herself wanted to go help him, but she doubted his friends would give her the chance, not when she might just as easily finish him off.

Focus, Saga! She brought her attention back to her opponent. She wasn’t here to protect these men.

The swordsman moved again, lunging at her with more precision than he’d shown before. She managed to twist and avoid being skewered, but only barely, and his attack left a shallow cut across the bottom of her ribcage. She could feel the warmth of the blood trickling down her belly, but oddly enough she didn’t feel any pain. Why doesn’t it hurt?

She forced herself to focus once more, readying her sword for the man’s next attack. His initial attack had been fueled by anger over his fallen comrade, but he was clearly experienced with a blade. And where were Master Dorrin and the last bandit?

Once again, her wandering mind almost cost her her life, but she was able to fully avoid the attack this time. The man searched her eyes while keeping his sword at the ready, and slowly, he began to smile.

“You’re new at this, aren’t you? The killing, the fighting?”

She cried out and slashed at him. Not the flourishing strike of an experienced sword dancer, but a novice swordsman’s practice swing. The man laughed while easily sidestepping the attack. “What’s gotten into you, girl? Where’s the cat that left these scratches down my back?” His grin was predatory, and he made a show of lowering his sword and looking her up and down as the other man had. “When we’re done here, I’ll be sure to give you the opportunity to leave a few more. You might even enjoy yourself.”

He’s taunting you, Saga. He’s afraid of you. She tried to reassure herself, but it wasn’t working. His stance was too confident, and that leer…he knew she couldn’t kill him, and that meant he’d already won the fight.

She swung again, yelling furiously, but again he sidestepped her attack. “Come on, little kitten, where did those claws go? I thought drakes were supposed to be dangerous. You’ve got to at least make the first round interesting for me before we move on to the second.” He laughed. He was laughing at her! She tried to summon her anger, her years of training, but she couldn’t bring herself to harm this man, no matter what he said.

As they continued to circle, she finally caught sight of Master Dorrin, and her blood froze. The bandit leader had a dagger to his throat from behind, and the two were watching Saga face off against her opponent. Her mentor was unarmed. Where are his swords? His face was a mask of stone, showing nothing, but the man holding him was watching the fight with obvious interest. “Don’t mind us, girl. We’re just enjoying the show.” He pressed the knife a little further against her mentor’s throat, and even at that distance Saga could make out the trickle of blood running down from where it cut into him. “That said, if you don’t play nice with my man there, I might have to end the old bastard here and come hold you down for him. You’ve killed four of us now, there’s no way you’re getting out of this without some payment.” The man sneered. “You understand, it’s just business. All we would’ve taken was your gold, your clothes, maybe a little of your dignity, then sent you on your way. Was that really so much to ask? Now, we have to make an example of you.”

The world slowed down yet again, and she felt numb all over. Her pride, her hesitation had led her to this moment. _Think, Saga! It’s only two of them! You can handle this, you just have to…to…_her sword tip wavered, and her head sank. She couldn’t do it. Despite what these men had likely done in the past, and what they were about to do, she couldn’t kill them. Maybe if she gave in, went along with them willingly, they’d at least let Master Dorrin go? She knew it wasn’t likely, but she didn’t know what else to do.

“Saga! Saga, listen to me!” Master Dorrin called out, but the bandit holding him pressed the knife harder against his throat in warning. Her mentor called out again anyway, ignoring the obvious pain he was in and the man holding the knife. “Remember lesson two!”

Saga frowned, thinking back to their first day together, and what he’d told her then. The memory came immediately to her mind, and it only took a second for her to make a decision. “I’m sorry, Master.”

Her sword clattered to the dirt road at her feet.


Chapter 18

12 February 2025

When Saga was a child, only barely in her teens, her father had finally allowed her to join the Keepers’ Academy. She’d been late to her first day of blade dance practice with Master Dorrin, and he’d scolded her harshly and ordered her to stay after class to make up for the missed training.

He was brutal, practically beating her with a wooden sword while she ineffectually swatted at it with her own. At first she thought he was just being cruel, but every so often she looked into his eyes, and he seemed…conflicted? Sad? She almost got the feeling he didn’t want to be doing this, but that just made the situation worse. Why was he doing something neither of them wanted him to do?

The old man stopped after what felt like hours. She laid on the ground, her body sore and exhausted from the ‘training’. Some water from him helped ease some of the ache, and eventually she was able to sit up. She knew when she looked at him that there was fire in her eyes, anger. He just stared at her for a while, his eyes blank, and eventually turned away.

“Your grandfather tells me you want to be a Bard, but more than that, you want to be a hero.”

She said nothing, still glaring at him.

“You need to learn something, Saga, and the earlier you learn it, the better.” He looked down at her again. “What do you think heroes do?”

She frowned at the question, trying to remain angry but now more confused than anything. This old man was weird. “They…make people happy? They fight bad guys and rescue people. They do what they need to do.”

He closed his eyes and nodded slowly. “Yes. A good answer, if simple. They do what they must, no matter what happens. Saga,” he looked at her again, and this time he just looked tired, “sometimes, you’ll have to hurt someone to save someone else. If you insist on following this path, on being a hero, you’ll end up fighting some bad people some day, and you may have to kill them, either to save yourself, or someone else.”

She looked away, saying nothing. Her eye was beginning to itch, but she ignored it.

“I just want you to understand,” he continued. “When that time comes, you can’t hesitate. If you let them see you flinch, if they know you’re afraid to hurt them, you’ve already lost.”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” she whispered.

“I know, Saga. No good person wants to, but sometimes it’s necessary. Do you want my advice? What helps me when I need to do it?” She could feel his eyes on her, but she just shrugged.

“I remind myself…that killing another human being is a burden, but one I would rather shoulder myself than put off on someone else. When I kill,” his voice faltered, and even without looking, she realized he was trying not to cry, “I carry the burden so no one else has to.”

She considered his words, and the silent minutes dragged on. Eventually, she managed to speak again. “I can barely hold a sword. Why are you telling me this now?”

He chuckled bitterly. “I’ve found this lesson sticks better immediately after a fight. You’ll remember this conversation later, when you most need it. You’ll remember how helpless you felt during the fight, and you’ll remember that you don’t want to feel that way ever again.

“When the time comes, and you remember this, you’ll fight with everything you have.”

“I’ll write it down in my notebook under ‘Lesson Two’.”

He looked down at her, confused. “Two?”

“’Lesson One’ was ‘don’t be late to dance training’,” she grumbled, and her master laughed. It was the only time she’d ever hear him laugh in all the years she trained with him.

At the time, Saga had dismissed his words, and after being treated by a healer and getting a treat from her Master, she’d put them out of her mind almost entirely. Neither of them had ever discussed it again, though occasionally she’d remember that night and wonder what had brought it on.

Now, in this moment, with not only Master Dorrin’s life on the line, but also her own, Saga realized this was the exact moment he’d been trying to prepare her for. She lifted her head, staring evenly at the bandit before her, and slowly walked closer to him. Her voice was surprisingly calm when she spoke, and she had to force it to tremble slightly. “You’re right. I don’t want to kill you.”

The swordsman grinned, stepping closer to her but keeping his sword in hand. “I knew you’d come around, little kitten. Let’s start with the coat.” He reached out and grabbed a lapel with his free hand. “You’re not going to need it for a while.”

While he was focused on her, she shifted her gaze to the pair behind him, quickly gathered her Will, shaped it, and released it. The bandit leader cried out, dropping the red hot knife to the packed earth at his feet and clutching his burnt hand. Master Dorrin expertly slipped out of the man’s grasp, keeping a hand on the shallow cut across his throat but otherwise unharmed. He looked at the man, then back at Saga, eyes wide.

The swordsman looked over his shoulder commotion behind him, and his body language told her when he realized what had happened. She gathered her Will one last time, cast Haste, and tackled the man just as he turned back around. Her Hasted momentum gave her enough force to knock him flat on his back. Without her dancing saber, and her head pounding from overusing her magic, she resorted to the only option she had left: She punched him.

Her hands screamed in pain as she struck him over and over again. Fire filled the vision of her right eye as fear and anger coursed through her, rendering her half-blind, but she didn’t let up. He continued to struggle beneath her, but she pinned his sword arm with her knee and kept punching, her Hasted fists moving almost faster than the eye could follow. The sound of screaming came to her ears, punctuated by each blow. Every fiber of her being wanted her to stop, but she knew that if she did, if she let the man recover, he’d hurt her and Master Dorrin and eventually others.

I can’t stop can’t stop can’t stop I’m so sorry.

She distantly heard someone calling her name, but that didn’t matter. She punched, and punched, and kept punching. Her fist was covered in blood, she wasn’t sure if it was hers or his, but she kept punching. She heard her name again, felt hands on her shoulders, and suddenly she was being pulled away from the downed man.

She struggled against the hands, kicking uselessly at whoever had grabbed her from behind. Her attacker eventually threw her to the ground, and she rolled to her feet, the fire in her scarred eye blazing…

Reality snapped back into place in an instant. She had her back pressed against a tree, and Master Dorrin stood before her, hands on her cheeks and forcing her to look at him. She only then realized he was the one who’d been calling her name, and now he was repeating it softly, soothingly.

When he saw that she was starting to come back to herself, his relief was visible on his face. He sagged to the ground wordlessly, catching his breath, and she joined him. He'd sheathed one of his swords, though she still didn't see the other one. Or maybe this was the other one? After a few minutes, her breathing had returned to normal, and she was able to survey the surrounding scene.

Master Dorrin’s other sword was missing, and the band who’d had the knife lay still on the ground. Angels’ mercy, where is his head? The rest of the dead men were scattered across the road or in the bushes. A bloody lump had come to rest against the base of a tree nearby. Oh, there it is.

She turned her gaze, finally, to the man she’d faced at the end. His face was an unrecognizable lump of bloody flesh. She noted absently that his head was misshapen, and that his sword arm was visibly broken. Had she done that?

She didn’t know how long she stared at the body before she felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped, startled, but was quicker to recover this time. Master Dorrin was kneeling next to her, looking into her eyes, searching for something. “Are you alright, Saga?”

“He wouldn’t stop screaming.”

He blinked, then looked at the body. “Saga…he wasn’t screaming.”

“Oh.” Saga looked down at her hands. They were red with blood, though it was already beginning to darken and dry. “I think I broke something..” She felt detached, like she was watching someone else. “It doesn’t hurt, but I think that’s just adrenaline. I imagine the pain will set in soon.”

Her voice had a dreamlike quality to her ears, and Master Dorrin’s face showed concern. He looked around at the results of their battle, sighing. “I’m sorry, Saga. I knew this would happen eventually, but I’d hoped it wouldn’t have been so…” he paused, searching for the right word, “...messy.”

“Nonsense, Master. They would hardly have lined up to let me practice one at a time like in the practice ring. It’s best that this is over.”

He blinked, staring at her. “Are you alright, Saga?” he repeated.

She realized she was staring at the body again and averted her gaze. “There’s a creek nearby, if I remember the map correctly. Just north of us. I need to wash these wound, and my hands. Should use Heal so I can still use them.” She stood and walked in that direction.

It didn’t take her long to reach the river she mentioned, and she stripped her coat off before kneeling on the banks. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the unbroken water’s surface.

Blood. Fire and blood.

Just as she registered that the fire in her eye hadn’t gone away, she vomited. The tightness in her stomach she hadn’t realized was there was finally making its presence known, and she continued to empty it for what felt like ages.

When nothing else came, all she could do was scream out her fear and anger and anxiety, letting the raw emotion of the fight drain out of her until her throat burned. She was crying, and the tears running down her face had mingled with the blood, making her look like something out of a nightmare. It was the last thing she saw before everything, including the fire, faded to black.

I’m so sorry.


Chapter 19

12 February 2025

Saga awoke to the sight of Dapper scurrying back and forth on the ground in front of her, fidgeting worriedly and occasionally stopping to look at her. She was laying on her side by the river, her clothes damp. Had she fallen into the water at some point?.

She groaned, and Dapper immediately leaped in front of her, chittering. He tapped at her frantically, and she got the impression he was both worried about and angry with her. She smiled weakly at him in apology. “Sorry, I’m okay. Thank you, Dapper.”

The sun was setting, but there was just enough light left to see her reflection on the river’s surface. The blood on her hands and face was mostly gone, and the cut on her upper arm had stopped bleeding as well. She must have gotten into the water to clean it all off. A small part of her absently hoped she’d waited for the vomit to float away before doing so, the same part of her that was glad this part of the river was downstream from their destination.

Either way, the water was clean now, so she drank from it, cooling her throat. It was still sore from the screaming. Her hands twinged painfully as she cupped the water, and it occurred to her that she’d never Healed them, but maybe they weren’t broken after all.

Still, she cast the spell, wincing as her lowered Will made her head throb even worse. The healing magic tingled in her fingertips and spread throughout her body as a pleasant warmth. She could control which injuries were healed, and she focused on her throat and hands, restoring her functionality while minimizing the drain on her stamina and Will.

The spell and the water together helped her feel a little better, more human, and she climbed to her feet. As she turned around, she was surprised to see Master Dorrin there, watching her.

“How do you feel?” he asked. His face was as stern as usual, but his voice was softer. It was strangely comforting, though she couldn’t put a finger on why.

She considered the question. She was still numb from the shock of the fight, but at least she was back on her feet. “Probably about as good as I look.”

That got a chuckle from the old man. Some tension she hadn’t noticed before drained out from his shoulders. “You were out for about an hour. I felt it was best to let you sleep once you were done cleaning yourself off. I had to pull you out of the water, though.”

She looked down at herself, still drenched, and felt the late afternoon wind begin to chill her now that she was standing. “I hope I don’t catch a cold from these wet clothes.”

He gestured to her pack, now sitting near his feet. “Well, I wasn’t about to change you myself, and I don’t want to risk a fire just yet. I dealt with…” he pointed a thumb back the way they’d come, “...all that, but they may have had scouts. Best to play it safe. I’ll stand guard while you change into some dry clothes.”

She nodded, beginning to feel a bit more like herself. Grabbing her pack, she went behind a nearby thicket, reasonably out of sight from the older man, not that she thought he’d look. Master Dorrin was ill-tempered, but not indecent. “I’m sorry,” she called out as she changed, “about before. I should have controlled myself better than that.”

His tone was dismissive. “Don’t dwell on it so much. That was your first real fight, and your first kill.” Your first three, actually. “I hate to say it, but it gets easier with time.”

She grunted as she pulled on some dry pants. “Your words back there, reminding me of our first lesson…thanks. It helped, I think. I reminded myself that this had to happen.”

“I knew this would happen, eventually, and I wanted to make sure you were ready when it did. Angels damn me if I let one of my students get butchered on their first journey.” His voice was starting to return to its usual strength, and she only then realized that the violence had likely shaken him too, despite his strong facade.

She stepped out from behind the tree, fully dressed, and examined her coat. By some miracle, it barely had any blood on it other than where she’d been grazed by the arrow. And the sleeves. She looked around, dismissing that thought. “Wait, where’s my hat? And my sword?”

“Here.” He produced them both and tossed the hat to her, and she nodded her thanks to him before donning it. “I got your flute too, it’s in your pack.”

“I noticed that, thank you.” She pulled the pack onto her back, wincing when the strap moved across the scabbed cut on her arm. Reclaiming her sword from him - he’d already cleaned it - and sheathing it, she gave him a ready nod. “Should we continue? It’s only a couple more hours to Dove’s Landing, right? We’d arrive after dark but it’s better than camping out here all night with no fire.”

The old man nodded his agreement, then studied her once more. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

She started to say yes automatically, but she decided it was best to be honest. She shook her head. “Physically, I’m fine except for a headache from using too much magic. I’m probably not going to sleep well tonight, though. Or tomorrow.”

Master Dorrin smiled at that, his eyes sad. “Aye, well, that’ll happen. Just remember what I said.”

“Yes, Master.”

As they got back on the road, Saga pondered what she’d overheard back at the Crossroads. “Master Dorrin?”

He looked at her, concerned. “Yes? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, it’s just…” She hesitated. “I heard you talking to Gem behind the tent. You kept saying I was ready for something.”

He winced and turns his face away from her. “How much of it did you overhear?”

“Well, I didn’t really gather what you were talking about, other than it was about me. You kept insisting I was ready for something, but…” she looked down at the road as they walked. “That’s not what you said back in the City. You seemed adamant you didn’t even want me here.”

They walked in silence for a a few minutes before he spoke again. “Saga, do you know what my Passion is?”

What an odd question. ”You’re a Dancer, like me. Why else would Grandpapa have assigned me to learn from you?”

He chuckled. “I appreciate the confidence, and I’ll admit I’m a deft hand with the dancing sabers, but no.” He looked at her. “My Passion is dramatics.”

“Dramatics?” Saga snorted. “I’ve never seen you act a day in all the years I’ve known you.” She looked at him, but he remained silent, keeping his eyes on her, and she was forced to consider her words. “Oh.”

He nodded. “Saga, besides that first night, you’ve never seen me not acting. Not until yesterday.”

Her mind raced with the possibility. His treatment of her had been an act? All those years of harsh training and harsher words had just been, what, a lie? It doesn’t make any sense. He wouldn’t have to pretend to hate me just to train me. I don’t get it.

“I don’t get it,” she repeated out loud. “Why? What possible reason could you have had to treat me like that all those years?”

He sighed, turning his head back to the road. “It was…decided,” he stressed the word, “that it was the best teaching style for you. We wanted to see how well you’d react to adversity, if you would simply cave and give up, or go to your parents or grandfather for support, or stay and persevere.”

“That doesn’t really answer my question,” she said. “I’m just a bard. I dance to make people happy, and I can fight if needed. I’m not a soldier or…”

Or a hero…

“There’s more going on than you think, Saga.” He glanced at her. “I can’t say more. You’ll figure it out when the time is right.”

Dragons damn this man. She found herself fuming at the non-answers. “So, why are you opening up to me now? Is this the real you or another role to play?”

He winced. “It’s me, Saga. I’m genuinely sorry to have misled you for so long. I can drop the act now because…well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Either everything will work out and you no longer need me, or we fail and it will have been for nothing. The act no longer serves a purpose, so I elected to drop it.”

Saga glared at him silently for a time, but eventually even she had to admit she was being petulant. Even after everything she’d gone through under his tutelage, she trusted his judgement and her grandfather’s both. She had to accept there was a good reason for it.

A few minutes later, a thought crossed her mind, and she giggled to herself. Her mentor raised an eyebrow at her expectantly, but said nothing.

“I’m sorry, I just realized…being angry with you about that somehow makes me feel a little better about earlier. It’s a good distraction.”

He grinned, winked, and said nothing.

Did…did he do that on purpose? She gaped after him, realizing belatedly he could easily have dodged the question. Even now, he was looking out for her. She groaned dramatically, but smiled, and followed after him.

After what felt like hours of walking, Saga finally spoke to fill the silence. “So, any idea on what’s going on in Dove’s Landing to disrupt the trade? We knew about the bandits already, but could they really be doing something to the village itself?” She eyed the sunset in front of them as they walked, admiring the orange light against the quickly darkening sky.

Tap tap tap.

“Not likely. The caravans they send are usually big enough to deter bandits, and most of those types aren’t interested in lumber anyway. If anything, they’d be attacking the caravans bringing the money and goods back.”

Tap tap tap.

She nodded, agreeing with him. Bandits were opportunistic, but not stupid. They wouldn’t bother trying to steal something they couldn’t use or sell easily.

Tap tap tap tap tap.

“What is it, Dapper?” She said, finally responding to her little friend’s insistent tapping.

He tapped more, actual words this time.

Saga’s head snapped up, staring at the orange light in the distance, then behind them at the setting sun. They were heading east. “Master?” she called, alarmed.

Master Dorrin stopped and looked at her, then followed her gaze. “Come!” he exclaimed suddenly, and took off at a dead sprint. Saga, having barely recovered enough of her Will, cast Haste and followed after him. As she caught up, she placed a hand against his back and shared the spell with him, allowing them both to race down the dirt road at inhuman speed.

Dove’s Landing was on fire.


Chapter 20

12 February 2025

They didn’t have to run for long before reaching the village, though it was long enough for the sun to set. The village’s tall walls, usually enough to keep monsters and bandits out, did nothing to stop the shadowed figures throwing lit torches over it. The orange glow within the walls seemed to grow brighter with each torch added to the blaze.

The trio slowed to a halt as they drew near, remaining out of sight of what appeared to be more bandits. Saga ducked into a bush at the side of the road with Master Dorrin following closely after. “Dragon’s damnation…” Saga breathed, not daring to speak any louder. “They’re burning the village. This must be why they stopped sending the lumber, but it’s been days. Why are they just now burning it down?” She looked at her mentor. “Are these the same bandits you’re after?”

Master Dorrin shook his head, frowning. “No. The villages they’ve attacked weren’t burnt down. Windows smashed in, doors broken down, gates toppled, sure, but no signs of arson.” He gave her a quick glance. “This is something else.”

She nodded and turned back to the village. “What do we do? If there are survivors in the village we have to save them, but even you and I can’t take on this many.”

He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again as his eyes locked on a fixed point in the distance. Concerned, she followed his gaze to see what he was staring at.

A woman stood apart from the arsonists, wearing what appeared to be a faded military uniform. Saga could barely determine her features between the light and the distance, other than her greying hair, the hard lines that made up her face, and her large dragon horns. As Saga watched, the woman turned her head, revealing that one of her horns, reflecting silver and red in the firelight, was broken off at the halfway point. A first silver.

“Captain?”

Saga, snapped out of her observation by her master’s voice, looked him with an eyebrow raised. “You know her?”

His frown deepened. “Stay here.”

“But-”

“Saga!” he hissed, his eyes locked on hers. “We made a deal! As soon as bandits become involved, you do exactly as I say. Remember?”

She met his gaze evenly. “If you recall, Master,” she began, keeping her voice low, “you were specifically talking about the phantom bandits further east, and you’ve said yourself these aren’t them.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, visibly controlling his temper. “There’s more going on here than you understand. Please, just wait here. I promise I’ll be back.” He was gone before she could respond, disappearing into the shadows.

She growled in frustration, every fiber of her being wanting to follow him. Instead, she lifted her hand to her head, palm up in a practiced gesture, and felt a familiar weight on it. “Dapper, drop a line and follow Master Dorrin. Hurry!” The beatweaver gave her a tiny wave, turned, and leapt into the darkness.

Saga grabbed the line of silk he’d left behind, wrapped it around her fist, and held it up to her ear. She and Dapper had figured out a long time ago that his silk could carry sound a considerable distance, and they’d used the trick to great effect when she was a child. It didn’t take long for the sound of voices to come to her ear, and she kept an eye on Master Dorrin in the distance as he approached the older woman.

“What do you think you’re doing, Captain? This is too far, tell your men to stop!” This was Master Dorrin’s voice, low and gruff.

“Dorrin Chase. A pleasure to see you, too.” A woman’s voice, her tone dry.

“Not the time, Captain. Stop them.”

“I will not.” The Captain’s tone was firm, authoritative. Some of the bandits around the pair had stopped, watching them, but none of them moved any closer. “This village needs to burn, Dorrin.”

Master Dorrin stepped closer. “’Needs’? What does that even mean? What about the people in there!?”

“The people were…gone when we arrived.” The Captain spoke hesitantly, as if choosing her words carefully. “Something’s been wiping out villages to the east, and I think it came here.” She stepped closer to him and lowered her voice until Saga could just barely hear her. “I assume that’s why you’re here, but you’re too late.”

“I didn’t know it had reached this far, actually,” he replied, lowering his voice further to match hers, “and I still don’t know what’s causing it. What’s going on?”

The Captain stepped back and away from him, turning towards the fire. “I can’t say.”

“That’s a problem, Captain.” Master Dorrin moved to stand in front of the Captain, blocking her view. Well, he would be if she wasn’t taller than him by a head. “Because if you can’t tell me, it’s because you don’t know, but I’m willing to bet you do. You wouldn’t burn down an empty village, so talk. We need to know.”

“I can’t!” She stepped forward aggressively, her shout so loud Saga could hear it even without Dapper’s help. “If I tell you, it will spread the danger! If we drop it now, the threat will have passed!”

He was in her face now, shouting back. “How can you know that!? There’s no monster in Blake’s entire book that’s dangerous simply by knowing about it, and I refuse to believe these attacks have been your doing!” He took her by the shoulders, but before he could continue, several of the onlookers rushed forward. Saga lost sight of him in the flurry of motion, and she tensed, beginning to stand.

“Hold!” The Captain’s voice made both Saga and the bandits freeze, and Master Dorrin eventually reappeared on his feet. “This man is not to be harmed. Get back to your duties.” She walked confidently towards him. “I’ll handle him.”

As the other men and women departed, Master Dorrin stepped closer to the Captain and muttered something Saga couldn’t make out. “Dapper,” she hissed into the line, “get closer, I can’t hear them.” The line vibrated once in confirmation, then a moment later the voices returned.

“...sorry,” the woman was saying. She seemed genuinely distressed. “Please, believe me. Go back to Beacon’s Ridge. Tell them. I give you my word, if you walk away right now, the threat is gone.” She reached out to Master Dorrin, but he pulled away.

Saga couldn’t see his face from where she hid, but she could hear the bitterness in his voice. “I’m trusting you, Captain. Don’t make me regret this.”

Saga saw the Captain and her people prepare to leave as Master Dorrin walked back to her. They were leaving? Just like that? She waited until all of the bandits had left before giving the line a light tug and moving to confront the older man. “What was that all about? Do you know her?”

He grimaced. “You could say that. I can’t go into it, but she’s…trustworthy isn’t the right word, but it’s close.” The old man turned to observe the burning village.

Dapper appeared on Saga’s shoulder and rapidly tapped out a message to her.

Saga’s eyes widened. “Master, there’s a survivor inside!”

“What?” He turned his head to her sharply, then back to the settlement. “Are you sure?”

“Dapper saw someone standing in the middle of the village square, screaming!”

“Damn.” He closed his eyes, clearly conflicted. “If the Captain says the village is dangerous, I’m inclined to believe her, but…”

“But…?”

When he looked to her, his face was resolute. “I can’t knowingly let someone die that way, and I’m sure you agree.”

Saga nodded in agreement and began walking briskly towards the village gate, readying her mind. This is just a normal fire. No Redlight, no Redsong, no magic. You can do this. She found the gates barricaded from the outside, then surveyed the wall. “Shall I dispose of this mess, or do you want to find another entrance?”

“Do it.”

She began to ready her Will in answer, thinking of an appropriate spell. Part of being a trained mage was that her power was only limited by her imagination and her understanding of elemental forces. She could do anything from send the pieces of the barricade flying to blowing a hole in the wall to creating a set of stairs going over it.

After consideration, she decided on the first option. Blowing a hole in the wall could be dangerous for anyone inside and would allow the fire to more easily escape into the forest, something nobody wanted, and even after hours of mental rest she didn’t know if her Will was strong enough to manipulate the individual bricks in the wall to create the stairs; she certainly wasn’t strong enough to bend the wall itself. She was proficient in earth magic, but not practiced enough for that.

She held out both hands and made a sweeping gesture, as if performing a breaststroke, and channeled her Will. She could feel the energy reach out of her, grab the assorted pieces of wagons and furniture barring the gates, and throw them to the side. Thankfully, they hadn’t caught fire yet, and they crashed safely through the underbrush. What would have been the work of at least minutes with the pair of them was reduced to seconds.

The display of power left her fatigued, not having fully recovered from the fight earlier—don’t think about it—and she bent over to catch her breath. “Dapper,” she gasped to her friend, “take Master Dorrin to the survivor.”

The beatweaver waved and hopped into her Master’s waiting hand, pointing the way. With the gate now open—the bandits hadn’t actually barred the gates, probably because whoever did so would’ve been trapped inside—she could hear the screaming in the distance. Master Dorrin pulled up his green scarf to cover his mouth, then ran through the gate.

She was struck by how angry it sounded. This wasn’t a cry of grief, or of pain. This was rage, hatred in its purest form. It was understandable; this survivor had likely witnessed the burning deaths of their loved ones. Still, the scream wasn’t wordless as she’d assumed. They were saying something, though she couldn’t make it out. It wasn’t in the common tongue, and it was faint from a combination of the distance and the roar of the flames and crackling of burning wood.

Something about the muffled words itched at her mind, made her uncomfortable, and she had to fight the urge to plug her ears. She needed to be ready in case Master Dorrin called for help.

Without warning, the screaming grew louder and more frenzied, though still unintelligible, and her Master gave out a sudden cry. A fight?

She hadn’t caught her breath yet, but there wasn’t time. Master Dorrin needed her. She ran through the open gates. Had the bandits left one of their own inside?

She did her best to avoid looking at the fire as she ran, instead observing the bodies that littered the area around the gates as she passed. She couldn’t help but note they were of all ages, all crafts. She saw farmers, a butcher, based on his bloodstained apron. She stumbled to a stop and looked again. Not a butcher. That was a blacksmith’s apron. She recognized the loops at the waist and the pockets that would hold things like gloves, chisels, and punches.

There was no sign of a hammer, though, and the smith’s face and hands were covered in dried blood. She looked around at the surrounding bodies and saw the same thing. Blood on their faces, hands, and clothes. They looked like they’d all been in a giant fistfight. Perhaps they’d been fighting desperately to repel the bandits?

A dead guard, in the same condition but his sword and sidearm still in their sheaths, told her this wasn’t likely. These people had been literally fighting tooth and nail, forgoing any weapons or tools that were available.

D_ragon’s breath, what happened here!?_

The screaming in the distance abruptly stopped, and she looked up in the direction it had been coming from. This mystery could wait. Master Dorrin would need her help, one way or the other. The smoke was getting thick; she cursed herself as it invaded her lungs for not bringing a scarf or mask to block it out.

She arrived at the village center a short time later, coughing, and found him standing over a corpse. This one had the same bloody visage as the bodies she’d passed, though she guessed this was the survivor they’d come in for. Flames surrounded them on almost all sides, and she rushed forward to take her Master by the shoulder. “What happened!?” She realized she was shouting to be heard over the growing roar of the blaze around them, though it made her throat feel raw once more to do so.

He turned to her, looking dazed. Afraid he’d been injured, she gave his body a quick glance, but could see no visible wounds. “Master Dorrin, what happened!? Are you alright!?”

It was only when she shook him that he finally focused his eyes on her. “Saga? I…I don’t know.” The old man looked shaken as he looked down at his drawn saber, wet with blood, and then at the body. “He…I…he attacked me as soon as he saw me. Kept screaming something I couldn’t understand, and he came at me.” He shook his head, as if trying to clear it. “I had to kill him. He came at me,” he repeated. “He was like an animal, he was mad.”

Dapper appeared on her shoulder, tapping out a message on her cheek and confirming Master Dorrin’s words. She lightly patted Dapper gratefully, looked down at the body once more, then back at the older man, her face grim. “It’s done, Master. We need to get out whi-“ she coughed again, placing a hand on his arm to steady herself as she doubled over, struggling for breath. Her throat and lungs felt like they were on fire.

Seconds later, she felt a strong hand on her shoulder and felt a cloth pressed against her mouth and nose. It smelled of pine. She looked up, seeing that her master had pulled his scarf and was holding it to her face. Evidently, her coughing and touch had snapped him out of whatever had overcome him. “It won’t keep all the smoke out,” he shouted over the flames, “but it’ll help until we get out of here! Come on, I’m not carrying you!”

Saga took a steadying breath, coughed, then tried again. This time she was able to get enough oxygen in her to recover. She stood, nodded appreciatively to him, and turned to head back the way they came.

Behind them, only ghosts remained.


Chapter 21

12 February 2025

The pair managed to escape Dove’s Landing without further incident, and they watched it burn from a safe distance. Saga didn’t know why she’d bothered, but she closed the gates and used her magic to partially replace the barricade on the way out. Something about it felt…necessary. Once she’d finished, she felt suddenly relieved, as if there’d been a nagging tension at the back of her mind that was suddenly gone.

What happened to this place?

She turned to her Master, studying his face. She’d casted a quick Heal on him, just in case, but he really hadn’t been injured, and the spell’s drain on both of them had been negligible. Now he just looked tired, worn, like he’d aged a decade in mere minutes. She pulled the scarf from her face and stuffed it into her pocket. “Master?”

He continued to watch the fire in silence, his eyes haunted. Every once in a while, he gave his head a little shake, and she wondered if he was in some sort of shock. She thought back to how she’d felt after killing the bandits, and wondered if it was the same for him being forced to kill who he thought was an innocent in danger.

“Master?” she repeated, giving him a slight shake.

Like before, the physical movement seemed to get his attention. He looked at her sharply, his eyes suddenly hard, and frowned. “What?” he growled.

She jerked her hand away, taken aback. Where had that come from? “I’m sorry, I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. You seem…shaken.”

His frown deepened, and he looked away. “I’m fine. Worry about yourself.”

She looked down, unsure of how to respond.

“What a waste. We came all the way out here and the village is burned to the ground,” he muttered bitterly. “Now I can’t resupply, and that’s a source of good wood as good as gone.” He shot her a sidelong glance. “Of course, this means your trial is a failure.”

“What?” She looked up at him, shocked. “What do you mean? How?”

He gestured impatiently at the village. “You were supposed to restore the line of trade. Instead, it’s gone forever. You’ve failed, Apprentice Vance.” He sighed. “This is my fault, of course. I should’ve trained you better. There’s nothing to do now but return to Beacon’s Ridge. Both of us.”

Her heart sank. None of this was her fault. How could he hold it against her? Her eyes began to tear up as she turned away from him. He was right, of course. She was given a single task, and that task was a complete failure. Her fault or not, her trial was over. She forced her voice to remain even by sheer will. “Yes, Master. Shall we make camp for the night?”

“What do you think?” His voice was harsh, and it made her flinch involuntarily. “We’re not going to walk back at night, unless you’d rather murder some more bandits.”

Saga’s body went numb. She felt her eyes drying up as she forced the tears back. This wasn’t like her Master. He’d always been harsh during her training, a stern taskmaster and a relentless sparring opponent, but he’d never been mean, not like this, anyway.

She looked over her shoulder at him, but he was already looking back at the village. “Yes, master.”

“Don’t ‘yes, master’ me, girl, just go do it! We need to get to sleep soon if we want to get back as soon as possible.”

She obediently set up a campsite for them, though, at his instruction, she skipped the fire itself. They ate rations of dried meat and nuts, then crawled into their bedrolls without another word, though more than once she caught him staring daggers at her. Each time, he blinked and shook his head before turning his gaze away, acting like nothing had happened.

Sleep would not come for Saga that night. She didn’t think he would harm her, even with this sudden change in personality, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d be in danger if she fell asleep around him. Besides, after all the bodies she’d seen - and made - that day, she didn’t know if she was ready for what was waiting in her dreams.

Just before dawn, Master Dorrin rose from his bedroll and approached her, nudging her with his toe to wake her. “Get up. It’s time to get moving.”

She did so, climbing out of her bedroll with bleary eyes. He studied her for a moment as she moved, then spoke softly. “You didn’t sleep.”

She eyed him warily in the dim light, unable to see his eyes. He sounded more like his old self, but she wasn’t sure if she was imagining it or not. “No, Master. I couldn’t.”

He sighed, looking away. “I imagine not, after everything that happened. Still, we need to move. With the Captain in the area we were safe enough, but with the new day comes the scavengers.”

She nodded, then packed up their camp, such as it was, and made ready to travel. As she shifted her pack onto her back, she looked over at him. “Master, who is the Captain?”

“I’ve told you everything you need to know about her!” he snapped, and when he turned back to her from picking up his own pack his face was a mask of anger. “Do not speak of her again. To anyone. That is an order.”

Saga resisted flinching again. Evidently he was back to his short temper and mean spirit from the night before, and she’d already decided not to press him about it until they’d returned to the city. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry. I won’t.”

“Good. Now, onward. We have a lot of ground to cover.”

They ate their breakfast in silence as they walked; more dry rations. She walked in the front, relying on Dapper to detect anyone or anything waiting by the side of the road ahead. Master Dorrin kept farther back, and she could hear him muttering to himself, his tone harsh and angry. Several times she looked back to say something, and each time she received a dirty look that quieted her.

“What? I’m covering the rear,” he replied the last time she’d checked on him. “Do your job and watch our front. It’s bad enough you failed your trial, and now you can’t even keep watch correctly?”

She’d stiffened at his words but did as he ordered. That Snarewolf was still somewhere in the general area, she knew, though that area wasn’t saying much. The monsters could roam for dozens of miles in a day. Besides that, there could still be bandits out here, the kind they’d met on the way to the village. Sure, they’d been the Captain’s people, and Master Dorrin had thought they’d be safe with them around, but then why did they attack her in the first place.

Saga voiced this question as it struck her, but received only a noncommital grunt at first. She decided to drop the apparently touchy subject, but a few minutes later he finally spoke. “The Captain runs a tight ship, but there are bad apples in any bunch. Those men were likely friends and arranged to be at that post together so they could behave as they pleased.”

The response gave her hope for his mood, but when she looked back he was back to glaring at her. She suppressed a sigh, turned her head back forward, and continued the march.

As the day went on, and they passed out of the woods and into the grasslands approaching the Crossroads, Master Dorrin’s muttering evolved into ramblings. Though she still couldn’t make out what he was saying, it was clear he was becoming angrier, though there was a touch of something else, too: despair. She could practically feel them radiating from him, the rage and the hopelessness. What had happened back there that would affect him like this?

It was while she was lost in these thoughts that something finally snapped. She heard a cry of rage a split second before she received a blow to the back of her head. The force of the blow dazed her, and she spun as she fell to the dirt path. She could feel a sharp pain where she’d been struck, and her vision swam as she tried to focus on the man standing above her. Master Dorrin knelt down, his face contorted in fury, and reached for her. Before she realized what he was doing, he had his hands around her neck. He squeezed, his grip like iron, and her air was cut off completely.

She tried to scream, to call for help - surely there were guards patrolling the roads this far? - but she couldn’t make any sound from her constricted throat. She raised her arms to struggle against him, but they felt like limp noodles from the blow, and her ineffective swats at his arms only seemed to anger him more.

I will not end like this!

She summoned her Will, despite her increasingly throbbing head, but as she tried to shape the spell in her mind, fire filled her right eye. She released the spell, mentally swearing. She couldn’t use fire, not now. She’d likely kill them both.

She continued trying to force him off of her, but her arms felt heavier and heavier. His mouth was frozen in a maddened grin, his eyes wide, and a small part of her realized he wasn’t really looking at her. His eyes were focused past her, on something that wasn’t there.

This isn’t him. Something’s wrong.

Lot of good that does me.

The whole situation seemed surreal. This was the man who’d taught her how to dance, both in battle and on a stage. The man who’d taught her how to fight, how to survive. She couldn’t believe he would turn on her like this.

Slowly, as her vision began to darken, she shifted her legs under him and placed a foot flat against him. He didn’t seem to notice, and she took advantage of his ignorance. She knew enough time hadn’t passed to fully recharge it, but she hoped what power it had would be enough.

The benefit of using an enchanted item over a spell was that you didn’t need to spend time visualizing the item’s effect in your head. All you had to do was feed it an appropriate amount of Will. Summoning what little was left of hers, she directed it into her hair clasp and unleashed the power within, shoving with her feet at the same time.

Thankfully, the combined force of the wind blast and her kick were enough to dislodge the old man, and he landed heavily on his back a few meters away. She rolled to her feet, coughing as she struggled to get air back into her starving lungs.

Master Dorrin, down but not out, actually growled and jumped to his feet to lunge at her again. This time, however, he only made it a single step before falling again. His face hit the rough dirt of the road hard, and this time he stayed down. Saga didn’t waste time wondering what had happened. She drew her sword and backed away from her Master, rubbing her sore and likely bruised throat with her free hand.

Dapper chittered to the side of Master Dorrin’s prone form, and the telltale shimmer of his silk around the man’s ankles explained the fall. The beatweaver had tripped him! She’d never realized his silk was that strong, but she certainly wasn’t going to complain. She shot her small friend a grateful smile, then turned her attention back to the prone man when he stirred.

It took a moment, but Master Dorrin finally groaned and rolled over onto his back. He blinked up at the afternoon sky, confused, then looked at her with wide eyes.

“Saga? Angels above, what happened to your neck?”