At the edge of the forest, there was a gently sloping hill. The sides of the hill were covered with thick gra.s.s. A gray shadow, standing in the knee-deep gra.s.s, lifted both hands in the air. A strange voice lifted and was carried away by the wind.

Soon a shooting star split the dark night sky. Crimson, the afterimage of this missile hung in the air. Growing larger and larger, the track it had left became a rain of giant fireb.a.l.l.s that pelted the hill. On the hill, there stood a solitary castle.

The light flared. Moments later, a loud boom, the sound of an explosion, could be heard. As the castle walls crumbled, the gra.s.s around them burst into flames. Illuminated by this inferno, the land around Kanon’s royal palace, Shining Hill, shimmered like a mirage.

The emperor of Marmo, Beld looked upon this sight with all the solemnity of a priest officiating a ceremony. Mounted on a ma.s.sive black warhorse, he wore a black cloak over his blood-red armor. So attired, he commanded the respect an emperor was due.

Beld was over sixty years old. At that age, many a ruler would have been dozing away the days in his throne room. But he had the body of a man in the prime of his life. Even Beld, looking on his own reflection, saw a demon in the gla.s.s. That was thanks to the magical power held in the longsword he wore across his back. The longsword once held by a great demon still let forth an evil aura now that the one who had defeated the demon carried it. The sword had taken countless lives and destroyed many souls. Even now, it was vibrating in its sheath, as though in ecstasy from killing so many new victims.

Behind him, the hundred-some mounted knights who had come to look over the blazing ruin of the castle let out an exultant victory yell. But Beld’s expression did not change.

Beld had been hiding in the woods at the foot of the hill, waiting for this moment. But the battle was far from won. Even in the chaos of the burning castle, the enemy’s numbers were ten times that of Beld’s forces.

Stepping out of the shadows and advancing slowly through the long gra.s.s, Beld turned back to look at the elite fighters waiting for his signal. He slowly lifted his right hand, then brought it down in a flash.

With a rumble that shook the earth, Beld’s knights, all clad in identical black armor, charged out of the forest and up the hill towards the castle. The battle cries they screamed melded together into an earth-shaking song of death. Beld himself took off after them, drawing his sword and holding it straight in front of him. It was an evil sword that seemed to swallow all the light around it. The dark aura emanating from its blade was visible even in the darkness of the night. The air grew heavy under the weight of its evil energy.

“Are you heading out yourself, your majesty?”

Suddenly a voice rang out from his side. Beld reined in his horse and turned to look at the speaker. It was a lone woman, wrapped in gray robes. She looked to be in her mid-twenties. She had a long ponytail of jet black hair hanging down her back. On her forehead she wore a strange circlet. A green gem hung on a fine metal chain across her brow. The gem was ever moving, as though alive. The light in the jewel changed as it moved, giving it an eerie, unreal look.

The woman was known as Karla. Even Beld knew little more, only that she was a witch of dreadful power and that she had agreed to help him. That was enough for him. His court mage, Wagnard, had warned him repeatedly that she was dangerous. Wagnard was not jealously protecting his own status, nor did he know of a concrete threat that she might pose. No, he was merely wary of the power and motives of an unfamiliar witch.

The magic that had ripped apart the once-solid ramparts of the castle of Shining Hill was hers.

Beld showed Karla his sword and let out a great laugh. He wielded the longsword easily in one hand.

“My sword desires blood. Human blood is its favorite meal, you know.”

“True. But you’re the same, it seems to me. They say that swords merely reflect the desires of their wielders.”

“Indeed.” Beld laughed loudly. As the sound was swallowed by the wind, they could hear the noises of the battle. “But magic is the same. Those flames are your own urge for destruction, are they not?”

Beld pointed to the red flames of Shining Hill with his sword.

“That may be true,” answered Karla in a soft voice. “My work here is done. I have no other plans in Kanon. I indeed to make for Valis as soon as possible. My bed is made, so I might as well lie in it.”

“You’re a busy one, aren’t you? Take care. Things should be fine in Alania.”

“Of course. You’re almost done here. We’ll crown you king of Lodoss yet.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Beld turned his horse and gave it a kick to the sides. It sped up, galloping like a flash of lightning up the hill towards the burning castle.

Once he got going, it never occurred to Beld that he might not succeed.

 

The morning after the festival, an empty feeling floated on the air. With few pedestrians out and about, it was even quieter than usual.

Woodchuck walked unsteadily through the city, avoiding the major streets. Not knowing their customs, he’d just run afoul of the local thieves.

He was wearing a light brown shirt and pants of the same color underneath a worn set of leather armor. He also wore black leather boots. The soles were made of thin leather, making them ideal for sneaking about. They also had good traction.

These clothes and armor, plus the short sword hanging from his waist, four daggers and a few coins in his pouch were all he had to his name.

“The Guild is too d.a.m.n harsh,” grumbled Woodchuck while gazing at the city of Alan for the first time in a long while. He wasn’t returning from a journey, though. He’d lived in Alan for more than twenty long years. But the only thing he’d been able to see from the dungeon of Stone Web was the bars of the neighboring cell and the timeworn face of its elderly occupant. But Woodchuck, too, was no longer young.

All that, just for one little theft. Thinking of that rekindled his anger. Twenty-two years earlier, he had broken into a rich man’s mansion, but slipped up and gotten caught. Woodchuck had had a trial at the royal palace, but in those days the king of Alania, Cadmus VII, was still young. He’d taken one glance at Wood’s face and sentenced him to thirty years in the dungeon without listening to his pleas. Due to that sentence, Woodchuck had spent what ought to have been the best years of his life rotting in jail.

Even after being pardoned and leaving early, Woodchuck’s resentment lingered. Listening to revelers toast to the new prince and the future of the kingdom during the festival had made Wood want to throw up. Instead, he made himself feel better by relieving them of the contents of their purses.

He’d succeeded, but he realized his skills were not what they used to be. Not only had he gotten out of practice between the gray walls of the dungeon, but the pa.s.sing years had also stolen the reflexes of youth from him.

He had reluctantly set out for the thieves’ Guild, asking about officer jobs. But in twenty-two years the head of the Guild had changed, and he told Wood that the new price was 10,000 gold pieces. Woodchuck bitterly reflected that if he had stayed out of prison this whole time, he probably would have become an officer, perhaps the head of a local division.

Wood was angry, but realizing that it was not worth starting a fight with the Guild, he had laughed weakly and left.

Perhaps out of pity, the Guild leader had given him a single piece of valuable information. Unfortunately, it would be hard to do the job on his own.

I need a partner. Not another thief, but a tough fighter. Wood had made up his mind. He saw no other way to move up in the world. But first things first - I need food.

Wood entered an inn in search of breakfast. On the sign, it said ‘Crystal Forest’.

Due to the lingering effects of the previous night’s bender, Parn didn’t feel like eating. He’d managed to swallow only a small piece of bread and a little water. With a little fruit juice mixed in, the slightly sweet water seemed to settle his stomach.

Eto was meditating next to Parn, deep in his morning prayers. Left to his own devices, he might have kept on meditating forever.

Ghim was the only one who had yet to finish his meal. He was on his second loaf of corn bread and his third tankard of ale.

Deedlit was doing her level best not to watch Ghim eat. She had eaten some fruit and drunk some cider and was looking at Parn’s miserable face with a bored expression.

While sipping a cup of milk, Slayn thought back on the previous night’s conversation with the elf girl. She had claimed to have left the elven woods out of boredom with the monotonous life she had lead there. He’d found her deep frustration with the elves’ lack of action against their people’s slow decline a curious viewpoint for an elf. The very almost-heretical views that had set her apart from her fellow elves probably suited her to life among humans. Embara.s.sed by her outburst, Deedlit had immediately turned to the innkeeper to reserve a room and headed up to the second floor to sleep.

As Slayn was pondering her tale, the front door swung open with a clank. Slayn glanced in the direction of the door, and his expression changed completely when he saw the person who had entered. The man was dressed like a thief. If he was a thief he must be a member of the thieves’ Guild. His pulse pounding, Slayn watched the newcomer, not taking his eyes off him until he sat down at the counter.

“Give me something light,” said the man sitting at the counter, his voice carrying across the room.

With that, the tension broke. Slayn bent over his old texts once more, and Parn rubbed at his aching head, ruffling his hair.

“You’re a mess,” laughed Deedlit.

“That’s right. Slayn, how was it at the Academy?  Was it worth missing the festival?” Having at last filled his stomach, Ghim turned to Slayn while making a pile of the empty plates.

“The Academy was in a pitiful state.” With a sad face, Slayn lifted his eyes from his book. Closing his book, he put both elbows on the table and folded his hands before beginning to talk.

Entering the Academy of Sages, Slayn had realized that it was no longer in use. The grounds were in such disrepair that they were no longer fit for human habitation, though one person, Master Jagul, was still living in the building, watching over the place.

Master Jagul had told Slayn why the Academy had fallen to ruin. It was because of the death of the Academy’s headmaster, Ralkas, who had been known as the greatest modern mage, and due to the disaster caused by a mage known as Wagnard three years earlier.

Slayn knew Wagnard by reputation. When he had enrolled in the Academy, he was a talented student who got top marks and achieved the rank of mage at an early age. But he had wanted to push his talents to their absolute limits. That ambition had pushed him to soil his hands with dark magics, drawing on the power of demons. That was against the Academy’s strict rules. According to the Academy, magic was meant to be used for good causes, and so the study of evil magic was harshly punished.

Learning of Wagnard’s forbidden studies, Ralkas had visited a severe punishment upon him. Ralkas had laid a strong magical taboo on him and expelled him from the Academy. If Wagnard ever used magic again, Ralkas’ taboo would send waves of crushing agony throughout his body.

But a genius such as Wagnard was able to resist even the pain of the taboo. Though waves of pain coursed through his body, Wagnard was able to focus his mind and chant a single spell. He drew strength from his drive for revenge against Ralkas and the rest of the Academy. He used his magic to earn large sums of money in Kanon before leaving for Marmo. Once there, he joined forces with Beld, one of the Six Heroes of Lodoss, who had just finished conquering Marmo, declaring himself the Dark Emperor. Wagnard became Beld’s court magician. In the end, Wagnard’s revenge did not come during Ralkas’ lifetime. However, as Ralkas drew his last breath, Wagnard’s evil schemes slowly closed in on the Academy. There were more and more cases of murders of young Academy students throughout Alan. The Academy took any number of measures to halt this ma.s.sacre, but without success.

As if to add insult to injury, monks who officiated ceremonies at the Academy were murdered as well, and the library was ransacked. Priceless books and ancient relics were stolen, while one-of-a-kind artifacts were burned to cinders.

This proud, historic Academy had lost its raison d’être. The surviving monks and mages left one by one, disappearing to the four corners of Lodoss. And so the oldest of the monks, Master Jagul, had become the only remaining resident of the Academy.

“What an awful story.” Eto said, his white-knuckled fists showing his anger.

“It is an awful story.” Slayn separated his hands and laid them in his lap. “I may only have survived because I was lucky enough to be away from Alan at the time. As a result, Wagnard didn’t target me.”

“Didn’t the king do something about the incidents?” Eto asked Slayn.

“What do you think a king could do against such ancient powers? Even hundreds of soldiers would surely have been unable to prevent the Academy’s destruction. That’s the horror of Wagnard’s power.”

“Are you in any danger now?” asked Deedlit in a weak voice.

“I should be fine,” said Slayn with certainty. “Wagnard doubtless considers his vengeance complete. Though it is possible he may plot further destruction. The Dark Emperor would be at the root of any new plan, and he may even have set the wheels in motion already.”

Slayn said it lightly, but upon seizing the meaning of his words, Parn choked with the gravity of it.

“I can’t forgive that Wagnard guy,” said Parn suddenly. As everyone stared at him in surprise, Parn stood, kicking his chair away, and raised his fist.

“I can’t forgive him. If it was clear what Wagnard was up to, why didn’t the mages fight back? Just running when they have so much power, that’s the depths of cowardice.”

“Mages aren’t like you,” said Slayn by way of calming Parn down. “Magic is completely different from the sword of a warrior. Yes, it can be used to kill, but mages don’t study magic in order to learn how to fight.”

“Then what about Wort? The Great Sage of Moss went down into the Deep Labyrinth to fight against the demon, didn’t he?”

Parn was referring to one of the Six Heroes of Lodoss who were spoken of in legends. Wort was the mage of the six heroes who had survived the fight with the demon. Slayn silently gazed at Parn’s angry face.

“Why didn’t the mages fight back. It’s a mystery to me.” Parn continued. “If it was me…”

“If it was me, I’d stand up and knock down that Wagnard, right?” The voice came from behind Parn. Startled, Parn turned. His right hand reached for the hilt of his sword, and he settled into a fighting stance.

“Who’re you?!?” yelled Parn.

“Oh, sorry I surprised you.” The man leapt back, waving his hands in the air in front of him. It was the thief who should have been sitting at the counter. Somehow he’d snuck up behind Parn without anyone noticing.

Woodchuck had only listened to Parn out of habit. Thieves listened to everyone’s talk, trying to get a cut of any scam. Even if there was no profit to be made directly, there might be value in any gossip. In any case, it wasn’t as though he’d had to work at eavesdropping on Parn - his voice was so loud it was hard not to hear.

“It’s just, listening to you, I thought that maybe you were the kind of hero who could beat Wagnard. If that’s the case, I know a place where your anger could find its mark.”

A polite smile plastered across his face, Wood looked Parn up and down. The surprise disappeared from Parn’s face,  replaced by an intrigued expression.

“It’s risky, listening to thieves’ tales.” Slayn’s voice was unusually sharp.

“I would think you too would welcome my news, ô mage of the Academy.” Knowing that this was the moment of truth, Woodchuck turned to face Slayn without letting his insincere smile slip for one instant. “Rumor has it that the treasures stolen from your Academy are hidden there. If that’s true, might it not be possible to pick up the pieces and reopen the Academy? You could occupy an important post there, once it’s restored.”

Though he’d advised Parn not to listen, even Slayn was starting to be interested in the thief’s information. He knew it was impossible to rebuild the Academy, but returning the lost books and relics might be of some use. Master Jagul would surely welcome them. If, that is, the thief’s story was true.

“Ô holy ear that knows truth,” Slayn chanted words in the ancient tongue under his breath. He felt the magic enter his body and slowly concentrate itself in his ears. The spell had worked. Even if the thief lied, Slayn would recognize his lies for what they were.

“Why don’t you tell us all the details,” Slayn turned to Woodchuck again. He pointed to an empty chair, inviting Wood to sit.

“Well, it seems you’ve finally decided to listen,” said Wood, sitting in the chair with a big grin. Looks like my luck hasn’t run out after all.

“Talk is fine. But please don’t just listen and take your leave. I want more from this than just a chat.” The elf and dwarf shared a meaningful glance, Woodchuck noticed. Elves and dwarves are always fighting, but they make a good team.

“Is that the price for your information?” asked Parn, puffing himself up. “My sword only fights in a just cause.”

“Of course, my young swordsman friend. I will guarantee that nothing I propose will sully your reputation.”

He’s not lying. The words came clearly to Slayn’s ears. Though he was lying about Parn’s reputation.

Feeling that he was safe around such a man, Woodchuck made up his mind to tell them the whole story. It’s not like I have any other way to make money.

 

The thief was called Woodchuck. It would seem that was not his given name, but rather a working nickname.

Parn and the others had moved the conversation up into their room, bringing a bit of food and drink, which they spread out on the small wooden table. Ghim immediately set to eating it. The room was fairly large, but with six occupants it still felt a bit cramped.

“Three days’ travel to the east, in the woods, there’s an old house. The owner kicked the bucket some twenty-five years ago, so it ought to be abandoned. But a few years back, a pretty shifty lot moved in. Conveniently, that was right around the time the Academy’s treasures were stolen.” Wood proudly laid out the facts and savored a sip of wine. “Whether you believe me or not is your business. But those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds aren’t Guild thieves. If they’re stealing things behind the Guild’s back, it’ll put a black mark on the Guild’s reputation. So a Guild member went there to investigate, and he saw something interesting. It seems that the sentries in front of the building were a dark elf and an ogre. And some guy wearing fancy armor came out of the building. That guy had the emblem of Marmo engraved on his armor.”

“Why would someone from Marmo, the dark island,” groaned Eto, “come to Alania?”

Even in Lodoss, Marmo was famous as a land of many demons. It was said that many dark elves, ogres, and trolls lived there. Its emperor, Beld, had once been one of the Six Heroes, but rumor had it that he had unified the island by force, showing not the slightest sliver of mercy.

“Do you think they’re plotting something?” Eto asked Slayn.

“I don’t know.” Slayn spread his hands and shrugged. “But if the rumors about Beld are true, I can hazard a guess.”

“You mean he’s planning to conquer Alania?” asked Parn with a gulp.

“It’s just a guess, but maybe…”

Parn muttered “hmm,” and pondered this. Slayn’s guess was the most logical one. If Marmo had already sent in soldiers, it was possible that they really were planning to take over Alania. It was even possible that Wagnard’s destruction of the Academy was not merely out of his personal grudge, but also in order to prevent the mages from posing a threat to Marmo.

“It might really be worth taking a look.” Parn crossed his arms and spoke as though thinking aloud.

“Why do we have to put our necks on the line for something like this?” asked Ghim, discouraged. “Wouldn’t it be better to leave it to the king’s soldiers?”

“I’d have a problem with that. This is valuable information. There’s the Academy’s treasure, not to mention the reward for stopping any conspiracy… how much do you think I spent to get this information from the Guild?”

The bit about spending money was a lie, thought Slayn, but he kept quiet about it.

“Dark elves and ogres? Those are dangerous opponents. Especially dark elves, because they use magic.”

“Yes, because they’re elves.”

Deedlit’s face colored at Ghim’s words. “Dark elves are an unsavory lot who sold their souls to demons. Don’t compare them to us.”

Elves like Deedlit had reasons to hate dark elves. The color of their skin had changed to black as proof of their service to the dark G.o.d. Elven elders taught the children of the cruelty of the dark elves. They killed elven men and women without mercy. It was even said that dark elves used elves as sacrifices to their dark G.o.d.

As for ogres, they ate elves as a snack. Along with dark elves, they were the elves’ oldest enemies. They had spilled each other’s blood many times over the years.

In the last fight against the demon, the dark elves and ogres had become the demon’s vanguard, sowing death and destruction before him. Deedlit herself had not fought, but countless elves from her village had given their lives. The memory was still fresh for her, as though it had happened yesterday.

“I’ll show you how different we are from dark elves!” raged Deedlit.

“Me too,” Parn was telling Slayn while gauging his reaction. “I too want to settle this myself. I can understand the thief’s perspective. And it’s not certain that Alania’s army would believe us even if we told them. Besides, dark elves and ogres shouldn’t even exist.”

“That’s true,” interjected Wood.

“Oh dear, looks like I have no choice,” said Slayn with a long sigh. “Let’s go along with Parn on this matter. If there truly are treasures from the Academy, we have much to gain. And as a human, I can’t just let the dark elves do as they please.”

“Hmm, if you want to go, I won’t stop you. I’ll let my axe taste dark elf blood. We dwarves have reason to hate them as well.”

Showing off his thick, st.u.r.dy arms to Deedlit, Ghim let out a laugh that shook his beard.

Deedlit gave the dwarf a sharp look, but when she realized he was gently teasing her, her expression changed into a sweet smile.

“That’s the spirit! It should be short work for you lot. I’ll help out too, of course. Despite how I look, I’m a fair hand with a dagger.”

Slayn knew that well. Thieves’ daggers were most to be feared under the cover of night or from behind. His old friend, who had probably been a better swordsman than Parn, had died to just such a dagger.

“We’ll give you half the reward. Do we have an agreement?” asked Parn in a solemn tone.

“I’m counting on it.” Wood nodded to Parn and let out a thin laugh.

Slayn thought it a strange laugh. It wouldn’t do to underestimate this thief. Making up his mind to walk at the very back of the group, Slayn stood to begin preparing for the trip.

Though it was too late to strike while the iron was hot, the party set out that afternoon from the Crystal Forest with Woodchuck in tow, leaving the city of Alan.

The road to the east was less traveled than the north-south highway. To the east, there was only the fishing village of Margus, where the road ended. Seeing no one but the occasional cart full of fresh fish, the party walked at a relaxed pace. Parn and Deedlit walked in front. They were followed by Ghim, and for some reason Wood and Eto were walking together. In the back trudged Slayn, his eyes alert, watching Woodchuck.

It’s gotten really hot. Slayn suddenly looked up at the sun, dazzled by its summer brightness. To shield his eyes, he put up his hood and pulled his head deep inside it.

That was the second day, and on the third they crossed a bridge into the woods.

“Here we are!” said Wood triumphantly, pointing out a small forest road. “The house we’re looking for isn’t far.”

“How long do you think it will take us to get there?” asked Parn.

“About an hour, I think.”

“What an odd place to build a house,” murmured Deedlit, looking at the trees with nostalgia.

“Well, I didn’t build it,” said Wood with a straight face.

“We’ll have to keep our guard up from now on,” came Slayn’s m.u.f.fled voice from deep inside his hood. Since the sun was at its peak, Slayn’s face was completely lost in the shadows.

“True,” said Parn, and he chewed on his lip, worry showing on his face. “Shall we go into the forest?”

Deedlit agreed happily.

The party went along with Parn’s decision and entered the woods. They could feel the vitality of the early summer forest, and the smell of the leaves was pleasant. Parn was still in front, making a path so that Eto and the others could easily follow him.

Slayn was irritated to find that the dew on the plants was dampening this clothing. His robe kept snagging on tree branches, too. Little rips and tears opened in the fabric, making Slayn realize he would need to buy a new robe soon. But there probably wasn’t a single store left in all of Alania that still sold the right sort of robe.

As they neared the house, the party slowed its pace and was careful not to make too much noise. Even so, Parn and Eto’s metal armor clanked as they moved.

“My chainmail is made of truesilver, so it doesn’t make a sound,” Ghim told Parn with pride.

Deedlit, too, had put purple armor on over her green clothing. At first glance it looked like metal, but it was actually leather that had been treated to stiffen it. The chest piece had been dyed with the seeds of mountain grapes. A simple design was scratched into it, and it was edged with red-tinted steel. Not merely decorative, the steel also served to strengthen the armor.

The house suddenly came into view in front of the party. They ducked down into some low bushes and spied on the entryway.

The huge ogre guarding the entrance immediately caught the adventurers’ eyes. Next to him, the other guard, a dark elf, was barely half the ogre’s height, but a sly light shone in his eyes as he diligently kept watch. The ogre carried a huge club, while the dark elf held a spear.

“Okay, what next?” whispered Parn. They needed to keep going in order to find out the truth, but that carried a risk of discovery by the sentinels. He turned to Eto as if to say ‘I’m counting on you,’ and asked “Should we try shooting them?”

“We failed the last time. Now our opponents are an armor-clad dark elf and a strong ogre. One or two arrows won’t stop them,” said Eto, recalling their fight against the goblins in Zaxon.

“Then what do we do?” Tired of hiding, Parn raised a petulant voice.

“It would be good if my magic would work,” Slayn inserted himself tactfully into the conversation, “but dark elves are highly resistant to magic.”

“That’s what they gained by selling their souls to demons,” said Deedlit with disdain. She had drawn her rapier and was checking the tiny dagger attached to her shoulder guard. A specially made throwing dagger like the three Woodchuck carried, she’d covered it with a paralyzing drug. Normally, it would have been used for hunting animals, but in this case she had prepared it to increase their chances in battle.

Ghim pulled his battleaxe from his back as well, and held it, ready to attack at any moment.

“There is one way,” said Slayn without confidence.

“Tell us, Slayn,” said Parn by way of encouragement.

“Well, magic that acts directly on a person won’t work on the dark elf. Therefore, we should use magic to lure our enemies away from their post.”

“Illusions, huh?” said Deedlit.

“Exactly. But auditory illusions only. If we can get even one of them to go off to investigate, not only will we no longer have to fight two of them, but we’ll prevent them from alerting the others.”

“What if both of them go?”

Hearing Parn’s words, Slayn shrugged. “In that case we’ll sneak inside.”

“Just so.” Ghim held in his laughter, but it showed on his face. His beard shook happily.

Slayn sent his consciousness towards the other side of the house. He began to chant in a low voice and drew a small symbol in the air with one hand. When he had finished, he began rustling the gra.s.s underfoot.

“Slayn!” Parn cried out without thinking.

But neither the sound of Parn’s voice nor the rustle of the gra.s.s carried. Instead, from a tuft of gra.s.s Slayn was staring at came a rustling noise and the sound of a voice calling “Slayn!”

The sound was barely audible to the party’s ears, but to the two sentries standing nearby, it must have been much clearer. The dark elf gave a start and uttered a few orders in a strange language to the ogre. The ogre readied his club and let out a little howl. The dark elf checked his spear and headed in the direction of the sound.

“Huh, magic is pretty useful. Teach me some later!” said Woodchuck with admiration, thinking how useful that trick would be for burglaries.

“Now!” Not waiting for Slayn’s signal, Deedlit sprang into action. Turning and winking at Parn, she ran towards the house with all the grace of a cat.

Stunned, Parn froze for a moment.

“Ô kind dryad of the woods. Make of that ogre my friend.” Deedlit’s spell was mysterious, not using the ancient language of Slayn’s spells. It was only a whisper, but it worked.

The ogre had tried to let out a big yell, but when Deedlit’s spell took effect, he stopped moving with a shocked expression. His little brain probably hadn`t even registered that he was being affected by magic. Instead of seeing Deedlit as a suspicious intruder, she appeared to be a close friend, doubtless someone closer to his heart than the dark elf who was always bossing him around.

Deedlit ran full tilt at the ogre. He was easily twice her size. His whole body was covered with rippling muscles, and his red-brown skin was bare save for a loincloth. His sharp tusks and crooked nose disgusted Deedlit.

“Beurk!*” muttered Deedlit, an Elvish word meaning ugly, as she ran up to the ogre that was staring at her in shock and aimed the sharp point of her rapier at his heart. Her sword sunk deep into his chest, so that the tip came out the other side.

The ogre finally realized what was going on. The elf girl in front of him was definitely an enemy. Not even realizing that he was dying, the ogre wanted only to eat her.

With all her strength, Deedlit pulled her rapier from the ogre’s body. Blood spurted from the wound as the ogre fell forward. Backing away so as not to be covered in it, Deedlit turned her attention towards the direction the dark elf had gone.

“Look out, Deed!” Parn’s voice cut the air.

Startled, Deedlit instinctively jumped high in the air. The thick, club-like arm of the ogre, still lying on his stomach, pa.s.sed right below her.

Had she taken that hit square on, Deedlit’s little body would surely have gone flying. Her spine might even have been broken. With a shiver, the elf remembered the monstrous life force that ogres possessed. When she turned to look at him, the ogre was flailing around, struggling to stand up.

Breaking out in a cold sweat, Deedlit couldn’t even work up the courage to deal the finishing blow. Her body shook like a leaf in a storm.

The dark elf who had gone to investigate the clump of gra.s.s soon realized that he had been tricked. The sound of unfamiliar armor came from the direction of the door. Perhaps the ogre had been defeated, though he heard no sounds of battle.

The dark elf knew that it would be risky to return to his post.

“Ô tiny spirits, ô formless beings, make my form like unto your own,” chanted the dark elf in the language of the spirits. After a moment his body faded, becoming completely invisible. He then ran back to the entrance of the house, his footsteps nearly silent.

“That dark elf has been gone a long time!” yelled Parn, keeping a firm grip on his b.a.s.t.a.r.d sword.

Having at last recovered from her terror, Deedlit had retreated behind Parn, acting almost as his shadow. Even the ogre’s powerful life-force was not enough to keep it moving once Ghim had beheaded it with his battle-axe. His body was still twitching, though, as the last embers of that terrifying life-force burned themselves out.

Eto and Woodchuck had joined the others in the entryway.

“Ghim and Deedlit, go inside, quick! The people inside may have noticed us. I’ll take care of the dark elf,” exclaimed Parn as they were waiting for the dark elf’s return.

“You dolt, what do you think you can do against the dark elf’s magic? You should leave him to Slayn and I and go inside yourself.” Urging Parn inside, Deedlit swiftly unfastened the water skin from her back. “Ô spirit of water, you who see the unseen. Where is the dark elf? He must have hidden himself.” Deedlit addressed these words in the language of spirits to a blueish ma.s.s inside her water skin. In response, the water spirit, Undine, surged forth. Then it spread out, forming a thin membrane of water, almost like a piece of cloth, and danced through the air.

Ah, is that him? Slayn tried sending a canceling spell to where Undine was floating. Cancelling spells served to nullify other magic. Slayn chanted in the ancient tongue and waved his staff around.

As Slayn chanted, a white light came forth from his staff. Glancing off of Undine, the light expanded over the ground.

“Augh!” with a groan, the dark elf appeared.

The dark elf couldn’t help cursing his luck at finding himself facing not only an elf but a rune master as well. They had quite a bit of power between the two of them. The mage’s cancelling spell had completely destroyed the dark elf’s sprite charm. But he still had his spear in his right hand. The elf was a slip of a girl and the mage was frail. He might have a chance if it came to a battle of strength.

But that thought was crushed by a blow from behind. “Ahh!” The dark elf screamed in pain in spite of himself. Three stabs of pain coursed through his back. Gritting his teeth, the dark elf turned around.

 

Behind him stood the thief in black armor, holding a short sword in an underhand grip.

“Huh, looks like I haven’t lost my touch,” said Wood with a satisfied smile.

All three daggers he had thrown had hit the dark elf in the back. None of them were fatal wounds, but at least they had all hit the mark.

Just then, Deedlit charged in like a flash. The dark elf sensed it and turned, meeting her attack with his own. Deedlit sidestepped it and extended her right arm and upper body, aiming her rapier at his flank.

If he hadn’t been injured, the dark elf would have been able to dodge. But when he tried to move, the daggers in his back dug in and slowed his movement for just a moment.

His death scream rang out through the forest. With Deedlit’s rapier in his side and Wood’s daggers in his back, he fell to the ground in a motionless black ma.s.s.

At that moment, Ghim, Parn, and Eto were all locked in combat inside the house. Their opponents were four humans. Taken by surprise, none of them wore armor, and they fought with just weapons and shields.

Nonetheless, all four were skillful fighters, and Ghim and Parn were having a rough time of it.

“Ô holy light!”

Watching them fight, Eto lifted his hands above his head and chanted a prayer. There was a sudden burst of light. It was only a moment, but the enemies facing Eto automatically averted their eyes, creating an opening. Neither Ghim nor Parn let the moment slip. Both were facing away from Eto, so they were unaffected by the light.

In unison, both of them attacked their opponents. Both enemies stumbled under their attacks. At the same time, having beaten the dark elf, Deedlit and the others came into the house.

The party made short work of their dispirited enemies.

No one else was in the house. After verifying that the corpses carried nothing of interest, the group searched the house. There were four rooms on the ground floor, but all they found were some rations and a number of bottles of liquor.

“Oho, what a find!” Ghim was stuffing as much food as he could into his bags.

“I’ll search the second story,” said Parn as he climbed the stairs. The house was well-maintained, complete with new furniture. Judging by the effort they had put into making themselves comfortable in such a dilapidated house, the occupants must have planned to stay a long time. The stairs, too, were covered with new carpet. Tromping over said carpet, Parn climbed the stairs and emerged into the second-floor hallway, with Deedlit close behind.

“So?”

“I still can’t see anything. Be careful.”

“You too.” Bending over,  Deedlit snuck a look down the corridor. The light of the setting sun illuminated two doorways. The door of the closest one was wide open.

“Shall we?”

“Of course.”

The two adventurers stood in front of the open door and looked around. There were signs that the room had recently been occupied. It was quite a large room. There was a long table in the middle, surrounded by eight chairs. Several of those chairs had fallen over, and it seemed likely that the men they had fought earlier had knocked them down in their haste to ready themselves.

“What’s that?” Deedlit had noticed what looked like some kind of official doc.u.ments in the center of the table. She rushed over to gather up the doc.u.ments. There were four sheets of fine parchment.

“There’s something written on them,” said Parn, who had moved next to Deedlit and was looking over her shoulder at the pieces of parchment. Then, realizing he was almost touching her narrow shoulders, he tensed and shook his head.

“What’s wrong?” asked Deedlit, all innocence.

On the parchment, frightening things were written concerning the actions of the king of Alania, Cadmus VII. Cadmus VII was famous for his love of hunting, and one of his favorite hunting spots was near this house. Furthermore, according to the doc.u.ment, when hunting he only brought along a few companions. By bribing one of those companions, the conspirators had gotten their hands on the names and descriptions of the king’s usual guards, which painted a clear picture of their opposition.

“What is this?” Parn’s hands were shaking.

“An a.s.sa.s.sination plot? Of the king of Alania?” Deedlit was only slightly calmer.

“Could be. No, it has to be. We’ve stumbled on something awful.”

Deedlit, too, was thinking that they’d seen something incredible. And that the plan was likely to succeed, if put into action.

Watching Parn fret, Deedlit slowly folded the parchment and put it in her pocket.

“We’d better search the next room.” Deedlit urged Parn, who hadn’t recovered from his alarm, out of the room.

From the layout of the house, one would expect the next room to be smaller. Parn carefully laid his hand on the doork.n.o.b and pushed.

The door did not open. Then he pulled, a bit harder. The door still did not open.

“That’s no good.”

Hearing Slayn’s voice, Parn rushed back to the staircase.

“Slayn! Woodchuck! Come here! The door is locked.”

Deedlit had tried the door many times, but it still would not open. So she patiently waited for Slayn and Woodchuck.

“Calling not just for the thief but also the mage. That’s pretty smart,” said Deedlit as she crouched down to look through the keyhole.

Parn smiled.

“Don’t look into the keyhole without thinking,” Wood’s dry voice echoed through the hallway along with the sound of three footsteps. “There might just be a poisoned needle on the other side.” He had arrived with Slayn and Ghim in tow. Surprised, Deedlit quickly pulled away from the keyhole.

“Is Eto fine by himself down there?” asked Parn, worried.

“No one’s coming from outside. He’ll be fine,” said Ghim carefully searching around the door. “Doesn’t seem like there’s any kind of weird device.”

He switched places with Woodchuck, who began to inspect the door in turn. He inserted what looked like a small wire into the lock and twisted it around, moving it up and down. Careful to avoid the doork.n.o.b, he tapped the door with his fist, listening to the sound.

Behind him, Slayn chanted a few words of a spell and muttered, “Hmm.”

“Did you find something?” asked Ghim.

Slayn replied simply, “There is magic on that door.”

“Looks like it. It isn’t locked, and there’s no traps. Seems like it’s your turn.” Wood stepped back, making room for Slayn.

Slowly drawing a symbol, Slayn chanted an unlocking spell. Then he knocked on the door with his staff.

The door shook a few times, then slowly opened. As the door opened, the lights came on in the room. Parn gave a start, and his hand moved to the hilt of his sword.

“There’s nothing to worry about. It’s a simple trick,” declared Slayn, stepping into the room. There was no one inside. Bookcases stood on either side of an old, worn desk.

“I wonder if those are from the Academy.” Slayn had walked over to them. There was also a cabinet near the door, full of gla.s.s bottles and tightly rolled scrolls.

But Slayn’s hopes were soon dashed. No, they aren’t. But his disappointment did not show on his face. He hadn’t been very hopeful to begin with. In Wagnard’s place, he would have had any magical items brought to him right away.

“Huh, looks like I was right. Oh, and there’s also a treasure chest. Ha, I’ve been looking for this.” Speaking in a strange voice, Woodchuck fiddled with the wooden chest that had been sitting on the desk.

Slayn walked over to the desk and carefully opened it. Inside, he found a beautifully decorated dagger and what looked to be a letter. Slayn opened it and skimmed the contents. The letter was short.

Everything is fine here.

How are things on your end?

Send news from time to time via the usual method.

Karla

 

“Not very clear, is it?” said Slayn in a monotone, putting the letter in his bag.

It was then that Slayn noticed. Ghim was staring at something near Slayn with a serious expression on his face. Whatever it was, it was above Slayn’s head.

Following Ghim’s gaze, Slayn looked at the wall, near the ceiling.

There was a single portrait hanging on the wall. It was a picture of a beautiful woman. She was wearing a low-cut violet gown and behind her were bright red curtains. Even the scenery outdoors was painted in painstaking detail. The woman’s skin was the same color as Deedlit’s, but her hair was as dark as the night sky. Her eyes seemed to stare at Slayn as though interrogating him.

I wonder if that woman is Karla. Slayn’s mind seemed to be stuck on that name. He tried to remember where he had heard it, but couldn’t.

“Well, it’ll come to me eventually,” muttered Slayn with a curious glance at Ghim, who was still staring intently at the portrait.

“It looks like her…” Ghim muttered this almost too quietly for Slayn to hear.

 

Three days later, Parn’s party had returned to the Crystal Forest Inn. They had turned over the conspirators’ doc.u.ments to the castle guard and gotten a reward of one thousand gold pieces.

Parn was in a good mood. His finances were good, and his actions had been judged righteous. The corrupt soldier would be judged, and the plot on the king’s life had been averted. The judge, Duke Balshea, had even thanked him personally. Parn was drinking ale and singing, though not at all skillfully.

“But rather,” Woodchuck was saying to Parn, “how’s about you let me join your group? I’ve shown I can be useful, and I’ve come to like you lot. Plus it seems like if I join you, I might see some interesting things.”

“I don’t see any reason why not.” Parn’s response was sincere. They never would have succeeded without Wood, and a thief might often come in handy on the road. “But please don’t break the law while you’re with us.”

The group had been drinking for a good while, and most of them were well into their cups. Slayn and Deedlit were the two exceptions.

“Only six hundred good pieces for that jewel. I think maybe we got ripped off.” Wood’s voice rang out as he critiqued the merchant who had bought the jewel from him.

“No, it was a fair price,” said Ghim who had had to keep Wood’s haggling in check while negotiating the sale. Wood seemed dissatisfied, but not wanting to argue jewels and craftsmanship with a dwarf anymore, he laid off.

In any case, the price he’d gotten from a mage for the scrolls and books recovered from the house was higher than expected, so Wood was not completely disappointed.

Slayn and Eto both seemed in high spirits. Ghim was the only one drinking in relative silence.

Just as the feast to celebrate the group’s success was reaching its peak, the outside door swung open and a man ran inside. Faced with this unexpected sight, even the partiers quieted down and waited for the man to catch his breath.

“It’s awful,” he announced. “Kanon has been razed. Beld… the emperor of Marmo, Beld did it!”

“What did you say?!?” Parn felt as though the floor had been yanked out from under him. He stood, kicking his chair away, and blanked out as though he had forgotten what he meant to say.

“He made his move, did he? This is going to be a major war,” murmured Slayn as though repeating a prophecy.

The group felt as though they had fallen into an icy sea, driving away their drunkenness.

“Kanon destroyed!” The news had of course made it to King Cadmus VII in the palace of Stone Web. The king called together an emergency meeting of the nation’s important n.o.bles. For a long time, a loose alliance had bound Kanon and Alania together. Kanon was the second oldest kingdom in Lodoss, after Alania, and had existed for over two hundred years. There had been many marriages between the royal families of the two nations, and Cadmus VII’s own mother was directly descended from the royal line of Kanon. Thus, Marmo’s attack on Kanon const.i.tuted an offense against Alania as well, and many influential n.o.bles called loudly for an attack on Marmo. There were also those who argued that Alania should call for talks with Valis and join forces to wage an all-out war against Marmo. If so, Alania would be the first of hopefully many nations to do so.

But Cadmus VII sent off an expedition to Kanon. For the moment, he decided simply to blockade the highway to the south, prepare his military forces against an invasion by Marmo, and wait to see whether Marmo would move against any other country. He even gave orders not to recruit mercenaries nor to muster the troops. In this way, he half-heartedly acknowledged the Marmo’s attack and its continued occupation of Kanon.

The next day, signs were posted proclaiming the king’s decision. Reading one, Parn felt like grinding his teeth.

“Why!?!” Parn yelled, forgetting that he was surrounded by people going about their business.

“What should we do now?” wondered Slayn, placing one hand on Parn’s drooping shoulder as though to console him.

“How can he do this, the spineless fool?” Tears welled up in Parn’s eyes. “Let’s get to Valis somehow.” Parn’s voice was resolute as he straightened himself up and rubbed his reddened eyes. “Valis will fight back for sure.”

“But the road to the south is closed, and we can’t go west until the sandstorm abates. If the king of the spirits has been released as rumor says, the western route will be impa.s.sible for a good long while. I hate to say it, but we can’t go to Valis now.”

“We’ve got to get there, whatever it takes. Even if it means entering the Forest of No Return,” said Parn implacably, glaring at nothing in particular.

“Are you mad, Parn? You should know as well as I how dangerous that place is. As the name implies, no one has ever come back from the Forest of No Return.”

“Then I’ll be the first!” Parn snapped at Eto.

“I’ve even heard that there’s ancient elven curse on the place,” added Ghim with a glance at Deedlit.

“Parn…” Slayne tried to calm Parn in his turn.

“That’s a good idea.” Deedlit, who had been silently listening to this exchange, suddenly spoke up. “Let’s go through the forest. It’s the best shortcut.” Her voice was calm.

“Do you know the way?”

“Of course.” Deedlit glanced at Ghim, then continued confidently. “I’m a elf. To an elf, there’s no difference between modern and ancient times.”

 

Parn and the others left the city of Alan three days after news of the downfall of Kanon had reached the city. Trusting Deedlit, they had decided to go through the forest to Valis.

At first, of course, Slayn had opposed the plan. He was scared of the Forest of No Return. That frightening name was not merely the result of legends and old wives’ tales. In truth, for hundreds of years, no one who had entered the forest had ever been seen again. Any number of heroes and adventurers had tried their luck in the forest in that time. But all of them had shared the same fate. The Forest of No Return never changed — year after year, it was the same black, forbidding presence, seeming to hold the many lives it had swallowed up as a menace. As Ghim had said, rumor had it that the forest drew its power from an ancient elven curse.

No one knew if that was true, except perhaps for the victims who had disappeared into the Forest.

That dark forest loomed to the right of the party. On their third day out from Alan, it had come into view. But Deedlit kept on walking along the highway, showing no signs of leading them into the Forest.

“Here it is!” Deedlit’s cheery voice rang out when they had been following the highway south for two days. Hearing the glum responses of her companions, she made an annoyed face and set off on a path branching out from the right side of the highway.

A narrow path stretched from the highway to the woods. Slayn couldn’t believe his eyes, wondering who in the world would ever use such a path.

“The path I told you about lies ahead. But remember this: once we’re in the forest, we can’t afford to stop. And try not to get too surprised. Strong emotions have a bad influence on the trees.”

“As long as we keep that in mind, we’ll be fine?” Parn was unable to hide his worry.

“Just keep that in mind and follow me, and we’ll get to Valis safe and sound,” said Deedlit, looking straight into Parn’s eyes. “We need to hurry.”

As they drew closer to the Forest of No Return, the little group’s fear grew stronger. But it was too late to turn back.

They must have walked the little path towards the woods for about an hour. Finally, they entered the Forest of No Return. Close up, it didn’t seem such a strange place - just an ordinary forest. But they couldn’t help feeling that the place had an increasingly evil aura to it.

At the end of the little trail grew two tall conifers. They looked like twins — their height, the thickness of their trunks, even the shape of their branches was the same. The s.p.a.ce between them somehow seemed to form a gateway.

“Here it is. We go through here.” Deedlit’s voice was filled with an irrepressible joy. “Follow the instructions I gave you. And under no circ.u.mstances should you leave my side. If you do, you might get caught in the ancient elven magic.”

Having said her piece, Deedlit turned toward the forest and cried out loudly in the elven tongue, “Fome alanis katulu!”

Something strange seemed to happen between the twin trees. The scenery between the two changed, and a golden light shone out.

“Follow me, before the gate closes.” With these words, Deedlit slipped into the golden light.

Steeling himself, Parn followed in her footsteps. Next, Eto, Ghim, and Woodchuck ran after him. Slayn was last. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and ran into the golden light after them.

“Ahh!” b.u.mping into something, Slayn almost dropped his staff. When he opened his eyes, he was staring at Woodchuck’s black-clad back.

“Don’t startle me. I thought I was going to have a heart attack.” Woodchuck turned to complain.

“Where are we?” Slayn was so fascinated by his surroundings that he completely ignored Woodchuck’s words.

They were in a shining gold forest. The short evergreen trees shone gold in the sunlight. The th.o.r.n.y bushes and fern thickets they had seen from the outside seemed to have vanished without a trace. The thick cushion of leaves on the forest floor eased their tired feet.

“This is the Forest of No Return?” Parn gulped down his saliva and spoke in a shaking voice. “It looks like another world.”

Another world! Slayn finally realized what Parn was saying.

“I see. This is really another world. Right, Deedlit?”

Slayn was shouting in his excitement. He poked the ground repeatedly with his staff, as if to make sure it was really there, then stared up at the sky.

There was no sun in the sky. Instead, the whole sky shone.

“What do you mean?” Parn looked at Slayn.

Watching Deedlit, who was in front of the group, Slayn slowly pieced a sentence together.

“This isn’t common knowledge, but the world is made up of three different planes. One of them is the world where we humans live. We mages call it the material world. The second one is the world where the spirits live. It is broken up in turn into several different planes, but collectively, we refer to it as the spirit world. And finally, there’s a world which forms the link between the physical world and the spirit world. This is the so-called fairy world. That is where we are right now.”

“If you know that, I could have explained it. I was wondering whether humans would understand,” said Deedlit, seeming a bit ashamed. “It’s as you say. This is the world of fairies.”

“So tell me, Deedlit. Is it not true that elves lost their homeland? I had heard that they had tied themselves to the material world and were no longer at home in the fairy world. If that’s true, why were you able to bring us here?”

Deedlit lept into the air like an arrow taking flight. She went incredibly high before landing as softly as a feather. “Slayn, I have no memory of losing my homeland. Here… or rather this plane, is the world I really live in.”

“Huh.” Slayn felt like the most useful part of his body - his brain - was not working. He called out to Deedlit. “You’re a high elf. I had no idea. I thought you had gone extinct.”

High elves were a people of legends. Not just their culture but also the people themselves were held in high esteem by the people of the Old Kingdom, and it was said they were the upper cla.s.s of elves in ancient times. They were known as both Ancient Elves and High Elves.

“We’ll probably disappear one day. But that is long in the future - once even the souls of the G.o.ds begin to fade, and the corpses of dragons rot.

Slayn was deeply moved. Parn didn’t really understand, but to judge from Slayn’s words, even among elves Deedlit came from an elite clan.

“I’ve heard us dwarves used to live in this world as well. But we left it long ago. They say it was in order to find real gold, not this fake stuff. Anyway, it seems like there aren’t any riches beneath the earth here.” Ghim gazed at the head of the battle-axe he held as he spoke. “Fairies hate iron, so it must not exist in this world.”

The axe’s blade had vanished. Seeing that, Parn hurriedly checked the armor he was wearing. It too had disappeared. He wore only a linen shirt and a short loincloth.

“But… I can still feel the weight of my armor.”

That was why he hadn’t realized. His armor still weighed on him, though he couldn’t see it.

“It’s fine. You just can’t see it because iron cannot exist in this world. It’s the same reason you can’t see the true form of the G.o.ds or the bodies of certain fairies in the material world. But hurry up. I told you not to waste time, if you haven’t forgotten.”

Deedlit was getting annoyed. Parn picked up his pace and loped after her.

“What does she mean?” Parn couldn’t help asking Slayn, who he had caught up with.

“That’s simple. In the fairy realm, time moves more slowly than in our world. If we waste time, hundreds of years might pa.s.s in the material world.”

“Uh-oh.” Parn blanched. “Deedlit, we’ve got to get out of here, quick!”

“I don’t want to get any older!” yelled Wood. It would seem he misunderstood Slayn’s words.

That’s why I’ve been telling you to hurry up this whole time! Deedlit was annoyed, but as she sped up she caught sight of Parn’s desperate expression and burst out laughing before she could stop herself.

When they had advanced through the golden forest for another ten minutes, Deedlit chanted some more strange words. As she did so, another pair of twin trees just like the spot where they had entered appeared. The party ran out through the gate and left the realm of the fairies.

Outside, it was night.

“It’s true. It was the middle of the day when we went in.” As he spoke in a voice filled with surprise and admiration, Parn checked in the darkness that his armor had reappeared. Having a.s.suaged his worries, the young warrior seemed to realize he was still running. He sat down on the ground, breathing deeply to catch his breath.

With a flash of magical light, Slayn’s blue-robed form shone next to him.

“But how many nights has it been, I wonder?” Slayn looked out from his hood onto the scenery around him. In the magical light, he could see that they were surrounded by hills. Behind them, of course, was the Forest of No Return. In the darkness it seemed, as in tales, to be squirming with magic which might — even now — stretch out a tentacle to grab Slayn.

“Judging by the distance we’ve come, I’d say it’s been three days. If you lot hadn’t wasted so much time we could have been here sooner, though.”

“There’s no way we could have been calm, seeing that place. But it was a good experience. Many humans have gone into fairyland, but few are those who have returned to the material world afterwards.” Replying to the energetic elf, Slayn finally stood, brushing the dirt from his robe.

“Where exactly are we, though?” asked Eto, looking anxiously in the direction of the forest.

“About three days east of Valis. If we cross this hill country, we ought to be near the northern highway that links Kanon and Valis. But it would be better to cross the mountains to the west. Otherwise we might get caught in the middle of the war between Valis and Marmo.” As she said this, Deedlit pointed up the steep slopes, looking up at the stars to be sure that it was really due west.

“Let’s get a move on, whatever we do.” With a nervous glance b

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