The constant cracking of wooden swords hammering against each other, and regular thunk of arrows sinking into targets filled the training grounds. The garrison was alive in a mechanical sense. Everywhere Echo looked, there was movement. From civilians hurrying about to collect laundry, to squires and knights drilling rigorously, it was as if they’d stepped into a city within the city.
Following the squire, they made for a carved stone tower overlooking the yard. A scant twenty feet, it was nothing by zephyrni standards, but compared to the rest of Sitri, it was a monolith.
They ascended the winding staircase under lamplight. Thin bands of sunlight pierced the darkened spiral through arrow slits. Despite the growing days of summer, it retained that familiar cold only stone could maintain.
At the top of the tower, they came to a heavy iron door, arched and bound in iron that rose above Healer’s demigiant head.
Drawing back the great knocker, the squire let it fall.
“In,” bellowed a voice from within.
The duchess’s feathers bristled. She’d met more than a few knights, but that tone. That was no ordinary knight. There could be no mistaking the no nonsense resonance of a commander.
Stepping in ahead of them, the squire stomped his foot as he came to attention.
“Sir!” he began. “As requested, I present Dame Mira’s traveling companions: Lady Echo of Clearwater Cove, Pastor Healer of the Church of Estoria, and Ms. Rosalie of Larris Marsh.”
“They are received,” Captain Theris said. “You are excused, squire. Lady Echo, Pastor Healer, Ms. Rosalie, enter.”
As they crossed through the door, a weight settled over Echo. Theris’s presence was oppressive even before she laid eyes on him.
The circular room fully filled the top of the tower. Defensible windows set high within the bare stone let in only the slightest light. Heavy tapestries depicting the crest of the Dragons of Sitri hung along the walls. Several wooden chairs and tables sat throughout the room, and a detailed map of Welmin was pinned over a smoldering fireplace.
Theris rose behind his desk in deference to Echo’s station as they entered, Sir Kaelen at attention next to him. Though about average height, the aura surrounding the knight commander dwarfed the demigiant behind the duchess. As if in that simple act of standing, the pastor became as small as the Yesha bringing up the rear.
Broad chested with thick arms, the time worn upon his features did nothing to belittle his strength. Decades of battle left his face marred by stress and worry lines. White filled his well groomed goatee, and salt waged an unwinnable war with the pepper in his thinning hair.
“Lady Echo.” He inclined his head in respect to her. “Pastor, Child of Yesha, welcome to Sitri. Please—” He motioned to the chairs before his desk. “Sit. We have much to discuss.”
Echo’s eyes drifted to Mira standing at attention next to the grandest chair in the room awkwardly positioned before him. It was clear from a collection of dust bunnies sitting off to the side that it had been moved specifically for her. But the way Mira stood there. Emotionless. Unblinking. Her wings mantled in an uncomfortable position, arms pinned to her side, Echo couldn’t get her feathers to flatten.
“A good day to you, knight commander,” Echo managed to force out in greeting. “Thank you for having us.”
Taking the seat, it was only then Theris sat with a groan befitting his years.
“Mira tells me,” Theris continued, “that the plague upon the Larris Marsh was far from what any suspected. Supernatural in origin, was it not?”
“She would be correct, sir knight,” Echo affirmed. “We uncovered a cultist to some unknown demon lord. It would seem he had designs to bring his master into our world.”
Theris nodded in silent confirmation of her statement. “Pastor,” he said as his haunted gray eyes passed to Healer, “it is to my understanding that you received a vision from your Holy Lady, Estoria?”
“That’s right,” Healer confirmed. “Her Holiness drew my spirit into her harvest field to speak. Told me what we found weren’t nothing she could remember. Not that it was nothing she knew, mind you, but more like something made her forget.”
Theris shifted in his seat. “And you’ve evidence that it was the same cult that beset you on your way back? The one that wiped out half a company?”
“Ritual scarification,” said Echo. “Designs consistent with what we uncovered in the marsh, Captain.”
“They’d prayer books written in Crkl’ath on ‘em, too. Burned them m’self,” said Healer.
“And I know that smell,” Rosalie added. “Their magic had the same stink on it as that butcher, the cultist that loosed the plague on the town, when he cast.”
Contemplation rumbled deep within Theris’s throat. Reclining in his seat, he pressed a ponderous fist to his lips as his eyes drifted off in thought. Moments became minutes as his jaw clenched and released.
“Most troublesome,” Theris thought aloud. “A goddess being made to forget is worrisome enough, but to think you came under attack by related forces a hundred leagues from the marsh…” He shook his head. “These are far from isolated incidents. I’ll not pretend you’ve not surmised that.”
“No, sir,” said Echo. “Our concerns align there.”
“How did he contact his brothers beyond the quarantine? Have our ranks been infiltrated? How far beyond the Larris Marsh do they stretch? Who is this Ebon Maw?” Theris shook his head. “Too many questions and not a whiff of an answer to be found.”
Echo nodded. “It’s maddening, Captain, but we’ve another, related matter.”
“The forgotten ancients,” Theris mused, eyes darting briefly to Mira. “A journey into the Falefal.”
Taking a breath, he drummed his fingers upon his desk. Looking to the map of Welmin, he studied it a moment.
Falefal Forest, less than fifty miles north, the accursed forest was marked by skull and crossbones. The only place on the entire map with such a designation.
“You’ve no other leads?” Theris muttered.
“Afraid not,” said Echo.
His eyes turned to Mira. Fixing the knight in place, her expression remained unchanged. Her posture, unbroken. But there was a subtle shift. A small movement in her feathers, imperceptible to her grounded companions. Something not lost on Echo. Mira was worried.
“You’ll need a guide,” Theris said absently as he turned back Echo. “Nothing short of a master ranger. Anything less is suicide.”
“We’ve procured the services of an elf,” said Echo. “A Master Vadanian. However, there is a slight complication…”
Theris cocked an eyebrow.
“He wants a boatload of gold!” Rosalie blurted.
“Two-hundred fifty sovereigns,” added Healer.
Theris puffed out his cheeks. “More than a night on the town, that.”
“We could inquire around, sir knight,” said Echo. “See if there’s another ranger available.”
“Oh, I’m certain there are,” said Theris. “But none more qualified than that old elf.”
Taking out a sheaf of parchment, Theris wetted a quill. He scrawled a hasty note and fanned the ink dry before sealing it with his official signet. Turning to Kaelen, he held it up to him.
“I cannot officially sanction such a mission seeing as only one of my Dragons will be going, but I can dispense some gold as reward for your actions in the Larris Marsh, and in service to our order during that ambush,” Theris continued. “Kaelen, take them down to the treasury. See to it that they’re not shorted as much as a pence.”
“Yes, sir,” Kaelen said as he took the letter.
“If there’s no more, you are dismissed,” said Kaelen.
At his command, Mira and Kaelen each stamped a foot and pounded a fist to their chest.
“Sir,” they said in unison.
Mira offered Echo a hand up before turning to leave.
“Mira, stay,” Theris commanded.
She pivoted on the spot, arms pinning tight as her wings resumed their mantle.
Echo winced at the awkward stance. Her wings ached for her knight. It was an uncomfortable position even for brief moments. Even back in the cove, the knights would never stand like that. Proper zephyrni attention tucked the wings, it didn’t mantle them. At least, not with the wingtips touching.
Reflex guided the duchess back to her seat.
“With respect, my lady,” said Theris, “this isn’t a matter for you.”
There was no conversation in Theris’s tone. It was a veiled command. Even though Echo’s title provided her respect, she was not in her domain, and it was clear, he would not offer further deference.
Feathers ruffling she nodded as she looked to Mira. “We’ll be waiting below.”
***
For the longest time, Mira stood there. Unmoving. Even blinking felt like a betrayal to her commander, but her flight feathers refused to stop twitching. Guilt twisted her insides with every involuntary flutter.
Her wing joints were so sore. It’d been ages since she’d stood at attention like this. Or at least, it felt like it.
Gradually, the sound of feet on stairs grew softer. Theris kept his vision, and ears, trained on the door.
“At ease, dame knight,” he finally said as the door at the base of the stairs banged shut.
An involuntary sigh shamed Mira as she relaxed her wings and shoulders. Her stance opened, hands coming together behind her back.
Theris’s lip drew in, in a half-frown as he eyed her formality. “All the way, little eyas. There’s no one to put a show on for anymore.”
“Sorry, Captain, I—”
“Sit.” He motioned to the armchair, still warm from Echo.
Hands on his desk, Theris made to rise. A sharp breath hissed from him as weight shifted to his legs.
“Captain!” Mira gasped as all decorum dropped. “Your leg!”
Hurrying to his side, she shouldered his weight.
“I’m alright,” he strained. “I’ve sat too long. That’s all.”
Mira opened the second drawer of his desk to retrieve the healing potion he kept stowed there. Her practiced hand drew the requisite dose to take the edge off.
Taking the dropper from her, he scoffed as the potion washed over him. “Heh.” He shook his head. “There was a time, seems only yesterday, I remember carrying a little zephyra girl over bruises and scrapes. Drilling squires for hours ‘til they cried for daring to steal a kiss from her and break her heart. Now, she holds me up over a little worn knee. Some great wyrm I’ve become.”
“You’ve still plenty of fire in your belly, Captain.”
“If it comes to me and what’s left of my fire, Sitri is truly lost.” Righting himself, his eyes softened as they fell upon her. “What troubles you, Mir-Mir?”
Mira could scarcely contain the half-crazed laugh that shook through her. Wherever should she even attempt to begin? A cult to some demon lord the gods themselves couldn’t remember? Pantheons converging in a distant swamp no one wanted? A cursed forest more haunted than the sanctum of a cabal of necromancers waiting for her?
“What gave it away?” was all she could think to say.
His eye twinkled. “Your feathers.” He ran his fingers along her treacherous flight feathers. “You’ve never been able to make them lie.”
Excuses zipped through her mind. Lies about being fine were born and died as quickly as shapes formed in thunderheads.
“I don’t know,” she at last admitted. Sighing, she reclined on his desk. “Do you remember the bedtime stories you used to tell me? The ones about Teesha Moonflower?”
He nodded slowly. Thoughtfully. “Korik, Estoria, and Myria. Three Great Gods, from three separate pantheons.”
“Captain. What if it’s that? What if… What if this is a matter for the Crescent Bow?”
Smiling softly, he ran a rough thumb over her cheek. “Then you’ll need a proper sword.”
A heavy limp robbed his once fluid gate as he hobbled from his desk. Reaching up, he retrieved the sword over the fireplace mantle. Turning, he presented it to her.
“Frost Fang?” the name scarcely whispered from Mira’s lips. She shook her head. “Captain, I can’t take your sword!”
“Nonsense,” Theris grunted. “All it’s doing here is growing dust. Hardly a fate befitting such a blade.”
“But it was your father’s! His father’s! It’s supposed to stay in your family!”
Forcing it into her hands, his eyes locked with hers. “Which is why it’s time for you to take it, my eyas.”
Even contained within its scabbard, Mira could feel the glacial chill of the blade lurking within. Silver runes carved into its ash wood handle glowed faintly at her touch.
Clearing his throat, he continued before she spoke again. “Now, will you tell me what’s on your mind? I know you, Mir-Mir. You’re trying to avoid something.”
She met his gaze with a flat look. “Traveling to the most haunted forest in the world to find someone that might remember something the gods can’t remember while firmly finding myself in the domain of literal god slaying heroes isn’t enough?”
A bemused chuckle filled him. “Something more immediate.”
Mira sighed. There was no point trying to stay evasive.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Ever since that ambush it’s just… I hesitated. I just can’t stop thinking about it. What if I’d fallen? What if… What if I’d left her alone again?”
Theris cocked his head. “Who? That noblewoman?”
Mira shook her head.
Studying her, Theris’s brow pinched. “Whatever became of those orphans from the marsh? You were short on details there.”
Heat spread across Mira’s face. “We uh—” She cleared her throat. “W-We saw to it they were adopted, Captain.”
His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “By who…?”
“They were left in the care of our one traveling companion and his wife. The warlock I told you about, Norman.”
“Left in the care of is not the same as adopted by, Mira.”
“Well they did take the boy, sir.”
“And the girl?” His lips pursed. “What did you do, eyas?”
That was it. There’d be no dancing around it.
“I didn’t know!” Mira practically pled. “I was raised here, in Sitri, by you! By humans! I don’t know about ancient zephyrni laws! I hadn’t even heard of the Code of Zephran until…”
Shaking her head, she sighed. “She was so scared we’d leave without her. I just wanted to give her something to comfort her. I didn’t know braiding a feather in her hair legally bound me to her anymore than Echo did. And she knows about the code!”
Theris’s face paled. “You’re telling me,” his voice was barely a breath, “that you and that noblewoman adopted a daughter? Together?!”
At a loss, Mira shrugged.
Silently, Theris returned to his desk. Rubbing his temples with one hand, he pulled another sheaf from the drawer to write.
“Captain?” said Mira. “What are you doing?”
“Writing the treasury to have your salary adjusted.” He stamped the parchment. “After all, you’ve a wife and child to take care of now.”
“What?!” Mira’s wings flared, feathers puffing out like an exploded duster. “Wife?! We’re not—!”
“Stow it,” Theris hissed.
“But Captain,” she protested in a hushed voice. “I’m about as interested in her as she is in me. Even if I was, she’s a noble!”
“Be that as it may,” Theris explained through gritted teeth. “The fact remains, a married knight earns more than a single one, and you’ve a duty to provide all you can for that child.”
“I—” The barest narrowing of his eyes silenced her. “Y-Yes sir.”
Taking her by the hand, Theris’s features softened. “Mira, my dear, I know you’re not one for falsehoods, but for once in your life, let the truth stay between the two of us. For that child’s sake.”
“As you command… Captain.”
Pulling her in, Theris kissed her forehead, and, for a change, Mira let herself breathe. Here, in this room, it was okay to relax and just be.
Helping him back to his seat, she knelt at his side. Looking up, not as the knight she’d become, but as the girl that had, by chance, found his camp all those years ago and asked for a piece of hardtack for she’d not eaten in a week. The man who took her in when her own people cast her out gazed softly back at her. The human that taught a zephyra to soar like a dragon.
And for a while, they stayed that way in silence. Not as superior and subordinate, but as father and daughter in all but name.
About the Author
A. S. Raithe is a fantasy author living near Pittsburgh with his wife and children. Always the creative type, it wasn’t until high school and being introduced to a local bestselling author that he found his passion for writing. He took time away from writing to attend college before being convinced by his wife to pick it up again shortly after their wedding. Outside of writing he enjoys exercise, baking, gardening, folklore, music, and hiking.
