My Dearest ShadowIt wasn't the first time Mirskyn was tracking down something sinister and potentially dangerous. It wasn't the last, either. Though, what made this case different was the fact no one had assigned this mission to him, it was something he had decided to do after sensing a malevolent presence. But he wasn't alone with this, a Tideborn assassin Rhynx accompanied him. They had traveled quite a while together and had been on their journey towards the grand city of Archosaur after slaying a powerful Wraith; it was their intention to report this victory to general Summer. Mirskyn and Rhynx had spent one night at Arrowhead Manor while traveling to Archosaur; the head of the manor always let warriors rest there since he enjoyed their protection from the Wraiths. He had, however, mentioned that evening that there hadn't been Wraith activity lately. What Mirskyn and Rhynx detected the next morning lurking near the manor wasn't necessarily a Wraith, but something that had to be investigated nonetheless; you'll never know what could be happening in the shadows, away from the public eye. The two men took the road to the west, towards the Winged Elf territory, although they had just come from that direction. The traces of the sinister presence were leading there, however, which worried Mirskyn a little. He didn't question the skills of Winged Elf warriors, but these were the parts where the young Winged Elves started their training. If the entity they were tracking down was a powerful one… There's no way that inexperienced warriors would even hope to match it. It was important that Mirskyn and Rhynx would find it first, before any tragedies could happen. But as they traversed deeper into the lands of Winged Elves, the trail they had been following suddenly split. Now it appeared that there were two different entities. Or perhaps it was aware that the two men were following it and created one trail as distraction. They couldn't know for sure, but they had to check both tracks. This was where their paths separated; Rhynx followed the tracks that were going toward the River of Tranquility, while Mirskyn focused on the trail that was heading to the direction of Battlemark Village, the place where Winged Elf warriors began their journey. Whatever lay ahead, they both were skilled enough to best their foes. But still, Mirskyn was a little worried for Rhynx, he always was when they weren't together. After all, you'll never know if you can meet your companions again during the times of war. It was nighttime as the Nightshade walked through the Forest of the Plume, stepping from shadow to shadow. The moon was at its highest point, but barely any of its mystical light touched the forest floor. Forest of the Plume was a lush one and vibrant, even a little magical. It may be the most thriving forest in the Perfect World. But that night the beautiful forest was eerily silent, Mirskyn noticed. All the sounds of nature were gone. It gave him a bad feeling and he couldn't help but wonder if the entity he was following was so frightening it caused nature to hold its breath. Then he began to ponder whether it had been a wise decision to part ways with Rhynx. They were stronger together, after all. However, all Mirskyn's thoughts paused for a moment when he suddenly was able to feel a faint gust of wind toying with his hair and rustling the leaves of the ancient trees that had stood here for centuries, some maybe even longer. Winds were something he could understand as a stormbringer, and he could tell that his one was ominous. There was definitely something very wrong with it, it carried a hint of malice. He let it tell him its wicked tale, but Mirskyn couldn't have prepared for some of the words the winds were whispering into his ears. “Kahanmoru… Kahanmoru… Kahanmoru…” The Nightshade's blood ran cold as he heard the name he dreaded the most. Suddenly this whole mission of tracking down a possibly wicked entity got an entirely different tone. Perhaps the being was one of Kahanmoru's underlings, sent to lure out Mirskyn somewhere no one could see. He wasn't afraid of many things, but Kahanmoru was one of them. Mirskyn wasn't sure how to proceed from here; did he dare to find out the true nature of the entity he had been tracking? Or should he just cowardly flee the area? Usually he would take down his enemy, but now… While he was being torn to two directions by his options, he then heard something rustling faintly nearby, like a small rodent. His heart pounding against his chest, Mirskyn took a tight grasp of his scythe, his magical instrument, and stared into the shadows, trying to distinguish who was approaching him, if there even was anyone. The shadows were shifting and dark, but eventually a shade came closer to him. It took Mirskyn a couple of seconds to realize that the shadow moving toward him wasn't dangerous to him. It was Rhynx, who had skillfully blended himself with the surrounding darkness. Mirskyn couldn't possibly be more relieved and happy to see him. He let his guard down, relaxing a bit. He noticed that the winds weren't whispering ominous words anymore, it was like Rhynx's presence had completely banished them from the forest. Before Rhynx was able to say or do anything, Mirskyn had stepped closer to him, dropping his scythe, and he wrapped his arms around the Tideborn in a tight embrace. “Thank you”, Mirskyn whispered into Rhynx's ear. “For what?” Rhynx quietly asked, and he half-heartedly responded to the Nightshade's embrace. “For being here”, Mirskyn responded. He could probably never tell even to Rhynx what was going on because of the great shame he carried. The Nightshade wanted to bury that shame so deep it couldn't be uncovered ever again. He had done a horrible thing, but if he didn't acknowledge it had happened, would it then come undone? Nonetheless, that's how he was coping with it, just ignoring that anything had happened at all. Mirskyn released Rhynx from his embrace and picked up his scythe again. He looked at him and asked: “Did you find anything?” “No”, Rhynx replied. “I followed the track to the shore of River of Tranquility, but it ended there, I found no traces around the spot. Whatever it was, it can either fly or swim.” “I see…” Mirskyn's previous suspicion that the other track was there just to distract them came back. It felt even more likely now since he had heard the winds to whisper Kahanmoru's name. Mirskyn still couldn't be sure if the entity they had been following had something to do with Kahanmoru, but he felt better now that Rhynx was back to accompany him. Mirskyn eyed the Tideborn a little bit. With him, he could surely continue tracking down the being. He trusted that Rhynx would keep him safe – or at least safer. Mirskyn was ashamed that he had allowed fear to tiptoe into his heart and hoped that the Tideborn hadn't noticed this. “So… Shall we continue following the other trail?” Mirskyn suggested. “No, I would rather let all this time go to waste”, Rhynx responded sarcastically. “Just let me take the lead.” “Of course.” Mirskyn had a feeling that something was bothering the Tideborn as well. Maybe the wicked winds had carried something unpleasant to his ears, too. But Mirskyn wouldn't ask about it, he was pretty sure Rhynx wouldn't give him an answer, not a whole truth at least. The Nightshade remained quiet as Rhynx walked past him and began to look for tiny traces the entity that they had been following had left behind. Mirskyn was actually glad that Rhynx was giving him an aid with this, for he was better at tracking down beings, whether they were Wraiths or other monsters or even people. But after all, he was an assassin. Mirskyn couldn't possibly be more impressed by Rhynx's skills. It almost seemed like he could see every footprint, every bended leaf of grass and snapped twigs as if they were clearly drawing him a trail to follow – even more impressive it was because of nighttime. However, Mirskyn noticed something too as they silently walked through the forest. He could suddenly sense small traces of magic. They were faint and he couldn't be sure what sort of person had left them behind; was it a friend or foe? He tried to focus, letting his own magical energy touch the remnants and flow with them. Eventually he was able to distinguish that it was tainted magic, something that belonged to a wicked entity. These traces were probably left behind by the same individual Mirskyn and Rhynx had been tracking all night. And as these bits of magic kept slowly growing stronger, it was a clear indicator to Mirskyn that they were getting close to ending this chase. Suddenly Rhynx stopped, raising his hand in the air as a sign for Mirskyn to stop as well. They were now standing at the top of a small hill and a little bit further away downhill they spotted someone. The two men didn't share words between each other; they knew how to act. At first, they would stay away from sight and observe. Their target was about the same size as them, wearing a black cloak that veiled their body completely. They were currently busy doing something; they were standing in the middle of a purple magic circle, chanting words that ominously sounded like the language of Wraiths. Mirskyn felt relieved; if this entity was in league with Wraiths, they most likely weren't familiar with Kahanmoru. But what were they trying to accomplish here, in the Forest of the Plume? Were they planning on harming the Winged Elves somehow? Though, what could one spellcaster do, dark magic wielder or not, when they were this deep in the Winged Elf lands. Still, there was something sinister about the circle and the one casting it, Mirskyn felt like they had to deal with it. Rhynx appeared to be on the same wavelength as he whispered: “Let's get him.” He immediately rushed toward the dark entity, his daggers out and ready to spill blood. He was like a deadly swift shadow, completely silent as he approached the spellcaster who hadn't even noticed his presence yet. Mirskyn followed behind, but couldn't do much when Rhynx had already stabbed the spellcaster and slit their throat. The magic circle faded away as its master's focus was gone and the spellcaster gurgled a little bit before they fell on the ground, blood gushing from their wounds. The assassin had truly been fast and effective at taking down the enemy, Mirskyn was rather impressed. He walked closer to the corpse to investigate it, wanting to learn about their identity. Mirskyn kneeled down next to the body. Perhaps they had been Human once, but dark magic had mutilated their facial features so they looked dead. The skin had an odd pale green color and they had curvy horns penetrating their skull. The more closely Mirskyn observed their body, the more sure he became that this entity indeed was one of Wraiths; they had this same reeking energy enveloping their body, something that Mirskyn had become too familiar with during his time as a warrior. “Wraith”, he then muttered to his companion and stood up again. “Not a powerful one since you took them down so easily.” He then frowned. “But I'm worried about something.” “About what?” Rhynx inquired. “Even weak Wraiths can be part of something larger, something more awful”, Mirskyn said. “I'm worried that this one was just a piece of a bigger scheme, possibly a fragment of some sort of array that they're planning to establish here in the Winged Elf lands. They could be preparing for an attack against Winged Elves. I can't be sure if this is truly the case, but we should warn them anyway.” Rhynx nodded. “Better safe than sorry. Battlemark Village is near, we should head there. And after that, we can finally get back to Archosaur. I need my payment for the work.” “Yes, let's go then”, Mirskyn agreed and the men began to walk away from the scene, leaving behind the dead Wraith. They traversed through the forest in silence, Rhynx being the lead, but Mirskyn wasn't far behind. Although no words were exchanged, puzzling thoughts were swirling in Mirskyn's head. Not about the plot of Wraiths, not even about Kahanmoru, but something entirely different; they were directed at the Tideborn. This night would have turned out entirely different if the Tideborn hadn't been here. He watched how Rhynx walked, confidently and silently like a shadow. Mirskyn had grown oddly fond of him even though they hadn't known each other that long. He respected and admired Rhynx's skills as an assassin, sure, but there was something else that confused the Nightshade. On nights like this one, he would have loved to just embrace the Tideborn and shut themselves in a world only they shared. Mirskyn found himself pondering about how touching the Tideborn's skin would feel like, how his scales in his Tide Form would glimmer in the moonlight and what his lips would taste like. He felt such tenderness towards Rhynx that it baffled him greatly. But did these thoughts plague the Tideborn as well? What if they didn't? That would probably confuse Mirskyn even more. After walking for some time, the two men got Battlemark Village in sight. It was a small Winged Elf settlement surrounded by steep hills. The area appeared empty, which made sense considering the time of day. There was, however, a couple of guards standing, both women, and they were quietly talking with each other. Rhynx and Mirskyn started to slowly and carefully descend the hill and soon enough they got all the way down. The two guards noticed them approaching and their full focus was on the two men. “What business do you have in Battlemark Village?” one of the guards asked as soon as the men had come closer. It made sense for them to inquire about such a thing, these were the training grounds for young Winged Elf warriors after all and rarely other races had anything to do with the place. “We're sorry to pass through your territory like this, but we have something important to tell you”, Mirskyn answered. The guards looked at them curiously. “Oh? Please, tell us more.” “There has been suspicious Wraith activity in the forest.” Mirskyn pointed at the direction where they had come from. “We took care of the one we encountered and you may find the body from there. We're not sure if there's more, so I advise you to be vigilant and send patrols to the surrounding area, just in case.” The guards nodded in unison. Then one of them spoke: “Thank you for this message. We'll make sure that our Elder hears about this.” “It was our pleasure”, Mirskyn replied. “Farewell.” “We wish you safe travels”, one of the guards said as the two men headed to a path that slithered among the hills. Now that this ordeal had been taken care of, they could finally resume their journey to Archosaur. The men walked in the silence of the nightly forest, however, Mirskyn noted that the life of these woods were back. The crickets were chirping, he heard the hoots of an owl and the slight breeze that blew through the forest was mild and free of the previous malice. It seemed like everything was back in order after the defeat of the Wraith. This brought peace to the Nightshade's mind, but since he was free of worries, his mind was occupied by something else. Of course it was about the Tideborn walking ahead of him. He was close, and yet, Mirskyn craved to be even closer. He wanted to feel the warmth of Rhynx's body, caress his hair, kiss him… He desired for their hearts to beat as one. This night had proved that he felt safe in Rhynx's presence. Perhaps he couldn't even think about a life without him… Why was his heart trembling so? Why did he feel such adoration toward the Tideborn? And why did it feel so warm and right? Mirskyn's eyes were locked at the Tideborn. Should he tell him about his feelings? Before Mirskyn even realized, he had already opened his mouth. “Rhynx. I…” “Yes?” Rhynx inquired without looking at him. Mirskyn froze for a moment. An uncomfortable silence fell between the men. Then he just blurted out: “I'm glad you're here. You did fantastic work.” He couldn't get the right words out of his mouth. He didn't dare. Rhynx sneered. “Of course I did. What would you do without me?” A faint smile appeared on the Nightshade's face. Indeed, what would he do? But he decided that now wasn't the right time to reveal his heart. Surely a better, more suitable moment for that would come in the future. Despite all his desires toward Rhynx, Mirskyn wasn't in any hurry. He could just enjoy Rhynx's company, for now. They were on their journey to Archosaur, but who knows where their path would lead them next – and what kind of experiences they would share. Whatever may lay ahead, Mirskyn was sure he would stay by the Tideborn's side, no matter what.Bahtroom ghostYou passed away in the bathroomYour body went out on the cold floorSoon the same temperature as the marbled tilesI like to think that you haunt this bathroomWhen I’m brushing, when I’m showeringYou are still there, haunting with your lack of presencestrings (2026)i can never tell if you're a metaphor, or if i'm a simile(i don't think i'll ever answer the latter)but i know that whatever you are,i'm hiding behind you, behind a sword and a shield,behind hands that would cut through hellfire and backjust to take mine, and have them ceasecease the shaking, the grasping at nothing,the clenched fists, the clawing,that has left gouges in everything i have ever lovedthe hands that can't loosen their grip on anything(least of all your own)i (we) can only hope, pray, begthat i never have to let goan insecti'd like to be an insectto just wake up one dayand see the vast, wide worldin a completely different way the parking lot pavementwould become a sea of grayi'd shelter under mushroomsas it starts to rain i'd scuttle high on branchesand burrow deep in earthi'd see colours unknownbut give people a wide berth the pebbles on the porchwould be like mountain peaksthe grass on the front lawnwould be like redwood trees i'd like to be an insectperhaps just for a dayi'd like to shed my worriesand put my thoughts awayvulnerabilityis it about taking this love,from my shaking hands?charging through the walls i’ve built,as a final, desperate stand? can I ever be close to you,without falling apart?will you teach me how,to show my frail heart? do you hear me now,my voice barely a murmur?i’m trying so very hard,to let you past my armour to put faith in and trust you,and take you at your wordplease don’t make me regret,laying down my swordcobaltyou say nothing ever shines as bright,like the light inside my eyeseven if the stars across the midnight sky,they finally burned blue you insist my eyes make oceans jealous,though i'm not sure that's the truth despite your claims of splendour,what would happen if you knew?my dearest love, i should say it so,they were always made for youfaithfulfor as rustedand as wornas i ami will foreverbe your swordstarsyou made tiny starsdance at the cornersof my darkened eyesand then i realisedi wanted those starsto grow ever brighterfighteryour way is not of painyour destiny not ordainedstand up, brave warriorbrush the dust from your shouldersand keep fightingpride monththe pharmacy down the streethas a sign on its sliding doorit says ‘everyone is welcome’though it wasn’t there before with playful, blocky textdecorated in progressive coloursit certainly does not feel this waythough, maybe it does to others? because he still walks to the countertugging, pulling at his baggy shirthe asks for the birth control quietlyafraid it might get him hurt it still says ‘feminine paper’in the aisle near the cashiernot period nor menstrualbecause god forbid the children hear all the congratulatory cards and baby clothesare pink for girls and blue for boysas if a child has the foresight, the freedomto question their parents’ choice the flags and celebratory hatsare covered in logos of sterilised whiteas companies attempt to ownthe struggle for our human rights on being trans, though i can’t speak to thati can certainly criticize, when a bar is set this lowwhen all he’s ever felt the need to saywas an apology for being so i do not know if i believe youdespite the sign on your front door… isn’t it just a performance for the customersso that they’ll give you more?privilege vs. allowanceit is such a kindnessto allow somebody to beexactly as they arei am so very sorrythat you were never handed it and thank youfor the allowanceof myselfi have neverhad the privilege beforerebellionevery time i smilelaugh, rejoice, singevery time i am given kindnessand every time i am smiled ati win, over and over and overfor there is no greater rebellionthan my existencehomefallen out of the midnight skya deep-end drop into starlit seascoming down to dusted earthin a tragic, yet brilliant blaze of glorypast millions of strings of lightyears of luminescence awayhe finds homelight (2026)when i start to believe this is my fate,you'll hand me my worth on a silver plate.when i can't remember how to feel,you'll remind me what's false and what's real.and when shadows make my heart wear thin,you'll be how the light got in.an exercise in self love (2026)and if i can't hate myselfinto some fantastical version i can loveif i can't mould myself into a shapethat satisfies my grand, artistic visionand if i can't trust myselfinto a person i can truly, deeply believe ini will love you instead(and maybe, someday, somehow,i'll catch up to you,and stand beside you.)the visuals of grief (2026)it looks like iced tea bottle caps(for as much as it confused the onlookers,as we played 'hockey' on our wooden table;back when they were sold in glass)and it smells like those greasy fried noodles,in styrofoam clamshells, andthe chemical air from the nail salon down the hallin the old mall's foodcourt, which is nowa relic of the past; the noodle shop, probably haunted it looks like the orange wrapper,of a peanut and chocolate candy(as much as mother wanted you to,and as much as she dreaded that sugar rush;you never did forget how much i loved those-)that you'd bribe me with after schoolso i would help you carry the groceries,from your beat up pontiac sunfirewhile your favourite rock n' roll blared from the radio it looks like the butcher's peach paperthat kept your favourite meats and produce fresh,(for as unhealthy as they were,and for as much as you coveted your lunch;you always shared it with me, after some pleading)you really did love that deli, and those sausagesthe shop of which is still there,and i wonder if they remember you,if they do, i hope it's with the same fondness as i. and it looks like burnt banana bread, and dried out steakswe ate it anyway, because it was always made with love,pancakes on a sunday, and mint candies in your glove compartment,and hair fading with age, and blue eyes, and a crooked grin- then suddenly, everything i took for granted,just like you, it was gone too soon.and so nothing ever looked the same again.all my friendsi was never the bestat making 'real' friendspeople would simply tolerate meas a means to a false end so i turned to what lay in-betweenthe beige pages of my booksi talked to pixels in my favourite gamesthough it earned me scathing looks i learned to stand and cheerfor the characters i held closeand the stories that helped me smilewhen i needed it most all my friends are fictionaland that might be as good as it getsbecause they're the realest peoplethat i have ever metA Prelude To Destruction - Chapter 3Chapter 3: Just ordinary people The Village of Newfound Hope appeared more vibrant than before as Mengkai, Kelith and Raiica were able to look around at their own pace. It was a thriving little settlement and the way people were speaking and helping each other out gave the impression that the villagers were helpful folks that appreciated honest work. Everyone seemed to get along well, but seeing this made the trio feel a little wistful; the sense of belonging somewhere must feel nice, something they weren't familiar with. Though they didn't let this dishearten them too much and who knows, maybe they could become part of the community here as well. As the trio wandered around, they noticed how many flowers there were. Quite a lot of rose bushes were around, along with other patches of flowers, but the most remarkable part was that some were blooming on the walls of the houses and even on chicken coops. Lots of vines had taken a gentle grasp of the walls of buildings, the flowers attached to them and giving a colorful look. It was quite magical, seeming like somebody here really liked flowers as they had decorated so many places in the village with them. This was just one of the many marvels the world around the trio had to offer. After walking around the village for a while, at some point a beautiful melody travelled to the ears of the trio. They got curious about it, sharing knowing looks between each other, and began to follow the music. It led them to a small square where a wonderful piece of art was standing: a fountain with three sculptured horses standing on their hind legs, their backs against each other, and water was flowing in the middle of them. At the edge of the fountain sat a peculiar figure playing an instrument that resembled a lute. They were a swallow about the size of a human man, dressed in simple red tunic and brown short trousers. They appeared to be immersed in their own little world as they played the music, not really noticing the three creatures they had lured with their melody. Mengkai, Kelith and Raiica had never heard music before, so they were rather mesmerized by the melodies the swallow was playing. They were a quiet but devoted crowd, carefully listening to every little note. The music was beautiful, but also sounded somber, perhaps reflecting the inner world of the swallow. After playing their music for a while, the swallow then stopped. The trio applauded them and that was when the bird looked at them for the first time. “You're certainly a strange lot”, the swallow said, speaking with the voice of a young man. His dark eyes wandered around all the members of the trio. “A raven, a cat and a qilin. Can't say I have ever seen folks like you.” He then glanced back at the raven. “Except maybe you. You almost look like a child of my kin. But we don't have horns.” “Well, we have gained quite a lot of looks from the villagers here”, Raiica stated and shrugged. “So our appearance seems to be out of ordinary.” “Where are you from?” the swallow asked and there was a glimmer of curiosity in his dark eyes. The three creatures shared awkward looks between each other. “We don't know”, Kelith responded. “We have no memories, no idea who we are. Ihtiriekko just found us from the forest and brought us here.” “Is that so?” The swallow tilted his head slightly. “Ihtiriekko tends to visit the Forest of Cursed Cries, seeking for herbs that only grow there. No one else dares to enter because it's full of soul-devourers and all around just cursed. It has changed even Ihtiriekko. I don't understand what you were doing in the forest.” “We don't know, either”, Raiica said, shaking her head. “We just… woke up in there, having no clue how we ended up in that place.” “I have to say, you were incredibly lucky that Ihtiriekko found you as soon as she did”, the swallow declared. “You could have lost your lives and what's worse, your souls.” “Just how bad is that forest?” Mengkai suddenly opened his mouth. “We heard these eerie howls while traversing through and even encountered a terrifying purple creature, but other than that, we don't know anything except people calling it cursed.” “Well, I'm not the most knowledgeable person in this subject, but I can tell you the basics.” The swallow leisurely plucked the strings of his instrument. “Like one would expect, it hasn't always been cursed. That ground is a victim of an unfortunate series of events. Back in the day, a lot of newborn bastard children were abandoned in the forest because it was believed that a devil had impregnated many women who traveled here in search of a better life. The cries of these children that never got a chance in life still haunt the forest and it's their resentment and despair that has cursed the place. Then came the soul-devourers. Their origin is unknown to me, but they were lured into the forest as an attempt to seal them inside, so technically, the world would be safe from them. It was said that the God of Wind himself was the one who lured them there. After this, holy statues depicting the Mother Goddess were erected on the borders of the forest, their holy magic keeping the soul-devourers inside.” The swallow took a deep breath. “That's pretty much it.” “Oh… Poor children”, Kelith said quietly. Abandoned in the forest, never getting a chance to be loved and experiencing life was bad enough, but in addition, never getting peace on one's soul and being hunted by creatures that feed on souls was a horrible fate. The three creatures shared looks again, perhaps the same thought had appeared in their minds. Were they purposely abandoned as well, left to be devoured by vicious beasts? But who would do such a thing? After hearing the story of the cursed forest, all three appreciated Ihtiriekko's deed even more now. They would offer their deepest gratitude once they would see her again. “What can you do, bad things tend to happen even to those who definitely don't deserve them”, the swallow spoke. “The world can be an unfair place at times, but there's good things, too. We just have to remember them.” He raised his head and looked up at the blue sky. For a moment it looked like he had left his body, dwelling in some other plane of existence completely, somewhere where he was happy as a faint smile appeared on his face. But his memories were bittersweet since a sorrowful expression then took over and he shook his head slightly. “Do you three happen to have names?” the swallow asked abruptly. All three nodded, being sort of glad that they could actually answer this question. “Raiica.” “Kelith.” “Mengkai.” The swallow nodded to each one as they stated their names. “Pleasure to meet you. My name is Iirenz.” He then plucked the strings of his instrument again. “Say, how do you like the Village of Newfound Hope?” “It seems pretty peaceful and people look like they appreciate each other”, Raiica answered, gaining affirmative nods from the other two. “You're right about that”, Iirenz said. “We are a small community that generally gets along well. All of us have done crimes, but since this applies to all of us, technically we can better understand each other. At the end of the day, we're just ordinary people who have done bad deeds, that's all. What we have done doesn't define us.” Iirenz looked down and played a few somber notes with his instrument. Something had darkened his mood again, perhaps his past was still haunting him. Then he stopped playing and looked at the trio again. “Would you like to help me with something? Don't worry, it's nothing difficult.” This was unexpected and the three creatures exchanged looks again. But as usual, they were on the same wavelength and nodded to each other. “Sure”, said Kelith. “Great, follow me then”, Iirenz said as he stood up. He threw his instrument on his back with a strap that was attached to it and he began to show the way. Together with the three creatures they made their way through the village, heading to a western part of the settlement. The group appeared a little funny to bystanders, with the tall human-sized swallow leading them and three creatures that were only half of his height eagerly following behind like children that had promised candy. “What are we going to do?” Raiica curiously asked as they traversed through the village. “We are giving a helping hand to Nadaer, a lady that uses a small patch of land for growing things like carrots and potatoes”, Iirenz replied. “I promised to help her harvest them. She will then make soup and serve it to anyone who wants to have some.” “She sounds nice”, Raiica said. “I mean, offering food while expecting nothing in return? That sounds nice.” “Well…” Iirenz went silent for a second. “She can appear intimidating, but her heart is in the right place. Don't say I didn't warn you.” The group got closer to a small house that was one of the outermost buildings in this side of the village. It had been decorated with vines and flowers just like all the other buildings in the settlement. As the group was approaching, the door opened with a slight creak and a woman came out and watched them getting closer. Even at this first sight, the three creatures could tell what Iirenz meant when he had described Nadaer as intimidating. She was looking at them with piercing steel grey eyes and her posture as she leaned against a doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest was a sign that she would tolerate no nonsense. Another daunting detail was the few scars she had on the left side of her face. On her head she was wearing a black bandana that kept her curly ginger hair away from her face. She was wearing white shirt that however didn't cover her arms and exposed her belly. She also wore brown, baggy and worn pants. The three creatures didn't know what they had expected, but not this tough-looking young woman. “You got some new friends, huh, Iiz?” Nadaer stated as the group approached her. “Who are these twerps?” “These are Raiica, Mengkai and Kelith”, Iirenz responded. “They will help us.” “Really?” Nadaer said in a doubtful way as she leered at the three creatures. “Well, if you say so. Just don't let them get in the way.” She then disappeared inside her house, leaving behind Iirenz and the trio who were left a bit confused from this short conversation. “Don't take it personally”, Iirenz told the three creatures. “She's like that with everyone. You'll get used to it. Come, this way.” The swallow then began to guide the trio around the house and toward the backyard. There were a few small patches of land where potatoes and carrots were growing and some of them appeared to be ready for harvesting. Before the group got to work, Nadaer made a sudden appearance again and joined them on her field. She was carrying two wooden buckets. “So, if you twerps want to be helpful, take care of the carrots over there”, she said and pointed at one of the patches. “I'll handle the potatoes with Iirenz.” “Understood”, Raiica answered on behalf of all three. “Take one of the buckets and put all the carrots in there”, Nadaer instructed them. “Now, get to work!” Mengkai, Kelith and Raiica hurried to the carrot patch, Raiica carrying the bucket assigned to them. They began to pluck the vegetables from the ground. They had never done any sort of work before, at least they assumed they hadn't, so even this simple task felt new and exciting. They got a little dirtied with soil, but they were happy to help nonetheless, and together the trio managed to pick up all the carrots from the small patch. Since they had succeeded in that in a relatively short amount of time, they then moved over to help Iirenz and Nadaer. It was around afternoon when they were done with harvesting. Two buckets filled with potatoes and carrots, now that was a sight Nadaer was satisfied with. “Great, now we can make soup”, Nadaer stated. “Though I don't have all the ingredients in hand. Hey, Iiz, will you go fetch some chicken meat from Imnia?” “Sure thing”, Iirenz replied, nodding. He went to fulfill this task immediately and soon his figure disappeared from sight. “Now, you three…” Nadaer turned to face the trio. “You may still be useful. You can help me prepare the soup. Interested?” All three nodded, curious to see what this chore included since like with everything else, they had no experience in cooking – or even eating. Maybe that was the strange sensation in their stomachs they had suddenly started to feel. “Good. Come here”, Nadaer said as she began to walk toward her house's back door, carrying both buckets with her. “It would be nice if someone opened the door.” Raiica was the first one who hurried toward the house and she opened up the door for everyone else. Nadaer was the first one to go in and the three creatures followed right behind her. They found themselves from a rather cozy little place; the downstairs seemed to mostly consist of a kitchen and a big living space. The warm afternoon sun flowed from the windows and gave the insides of Nadaer's house a beautiful golden glow. Mengkai, Kelith and Raiica noticed how there were a lot of wooden figures decorating shelves, tables and cabinets; it appeared Nadaer was very skilled in carving. “So, here's the thing”, Nadaer said as she dropped the buckets on the kitchen floor. “I want you to peel off the skin of all these potatoes and carrots. Think you're able to do that?” “What does that exactly mean?” Raiica asked. “Are you idiots or something?” Nadaer asked, though she didn't wait for an answer. “Well, let me show you.” She snatched one of the knives that had been sitting in a neat row on a table that was standing right by a window. Then she picked a potato from a bucket and showed the trio how to peel it. “It's that simple, really”, Nadaer said. “Now, do this to all of them. And don't blame me if you cut your fingers. Meanwhile, I'll go fetch water.” She just dumped the contents of the two buckets on the floor. Staring at this pile of vegetables, the three creatures had a hunch that this task might take a while. But the sooner they started, the sooner it would be done, so all of them picked up knives and began their work. In the meantime, Nadaer took the buckets with her and soon disappeared from the front door. Mengkai, Kelith and Raiica were left alone, trying their best to do a good job. Though they were having a bit of trouble at first, they weren't used to doing anything with tools and the work's results weren't the prettiest. Raiica was the first one to master peeling off the skin of the potatoes and she showed her new technique to her two companions. With her aid, Kelith and Mengkai slowly began to get better at their job, although they did manage to slip a couple of times and accidentally cut their fingers. Nothing serious, however, and mostly they were enjoying this little chore of theirs. Eventually Nadaer came back, carrying two wooden buckets filled with water. “How's it going?” she asked as she placed the buckets carefully on the floor. “Do you all have all your fingers intact?” “Yes, we do”, Kelith responded happily, proud of this achievement. “Good.” Nadaer carried one of the buckets toward the little workstation the trio had formed and placed it near them. “Put all the ready potatoes in this one.” She then carried the other bucket toward a little fireplace where a big black cauldron was hanging. The three creatures peeked briefly at what Nadaer was doing and saw how she poured the water into the cauldron and lit a fire beneath it with a tinderbox. The gentle crackling of fire brought a comforting sound to the kitchen, somehow making it feel more homely than before. After these tasks, Nadaer got her hands on a knife as well and started to work together with the trio, sitting on a stool. “Where are you little twerps coming from?” she asked while immersed in her work, peeling off the skins skillfully and way faster than the three creatures. “I've never seen critters like you before.” “We don't know.” Kelith was once again the one to reply to this familiar question. “We woke up in the forest with no memories of who we are. Ihtiriekko brought us here.” “Are you fucking with me?” Nadaer glanced suspiciously at the trio. “You mean the cursed forest?” “Yes”, Kelith said. “We don't know how we ended up there.” “Well, good thing that Ihtiriekko found you or else your asses would be dead”, Nadaer stated and focused on her chore again. “But hey, maybe you are demons. Maybe that's why you were unharmed.” “What do you mean?” Raiica asked cautiously. She and her two companions remembered hearing from Flamenial something about demons being powerful and dangerous and having the desire to steal souls from others. Being called such didn't really sound like a compliment. “Well, all demons have horns, just like you three”, Nadaer said. “It's not impossible that someone sent you to wreak havoc or something to our village. Not anything too crazy, I reckon, you look like weaklings to me.” This puzzled the three creatures, giving them even more questions about their own existence. None of them felt like they wanted to spread chaos or steal souls or anything of that sort, but perhaps it was a possibility that their origin was darker than suspected, although this option seemed wrong somehow. They all went quiet for a moment, but the crackling of fire kept a complete silence away together with the silent and soft noises of knives cutting vegetables. The quiet moment didn't last for long when a knock on the front door was heard. Just seconds later, it opened, and the familiar figure of Iirenz peeked inside. “Hello, I'm back”, he cheerfully said and slipped inside, shutting the door behind him. He had a package wrapped in cloth with him. “Good”, Nadaer stated and got up from her stool, throwing a perfectly peeled potato into the bucket of water. “You can help these three. I'll start cutting up all the ingredients.” “Sure thing”, Iirenz responded and got to work after dropping the package on the kitchen table. After the swallow had joined, together the group was able to get the soup done rather quickly. Nadaer was terrifyingly good at handling her knife as she cut to pieces all the potatoes, carrots and bits of chicken meat. Everything got thrown into the boiling cauldron and Nadaer did command one of the trio to stir the soup with a ladle, Kelith being the one who ended up doing this task. The scent of the cooking became irresistible after Nadaer had thrown in some herbs. Eventually Nadaer deemed that the soup was ready to be served. “Your new little friends really were helpful”, Nadaer told Iirenz as she was carrying the cauldron toward the front door and the trio could just admire her strength. “Yes, they were”, replied Iirenz who was walking by her side, and he glanced at the three creatures that were following behind them. Judging by his smile, this was quite a compliment from Nadaer and the trio felt a hint of pride because of this. Nadaer carried the cauldron outside and placed it on the porch, looking quite satisfied with the cooking. “Now, Iiz, go spread the word to those who are hungry”, she said, facing the swallow again. He nodded. “See you in a moment.” He then walked away, his figure soon disappearing from sight as he wandered further into the village, other houses concealing him. As soon as he was gone, Nadaer turned to face the trio. “For your work, you'll deserve to be fed first”, she stated. “Wait here, I'll get some bowls and spoons for you.” Mengkai, Kelith and Raiica nodded in unison and watched how Nadaer disappeared inside her home for a minute. It felt nice that their work was appreciated. Maybe they were supposed to be benevolent entities after all, not demons. At least it didn't sound like demons would care about being appreciated for doing a good deed. When Nadaer came back, she offered a bowl and spoon for each one of them. They were made of wood, so probably Nadaer had carved them by herself. She grabbed a ladle and poured a portion for all three creatures. “Thank you”, they all said at the same time. Nadaer looked at them with a little amused expression. “It really seems like you just share one brain. Anyway, enjoy your meal.” The scent of the soup was so mouthwatering. All three took a spoonful from their meal, blew it a little to cool it and then put it in their mouths. It tasted as good as it smelled. However, Mengkai discovered that he didn't like the meat, for some reason it tasted wrong in his mouth. Kelith and Raiica noticed him leaving the bits of chicken aside, eating the rest of the soup just fine. “We can take the meat”, Raiica suggested, not really wanting anything to go to waste. “Alright”, Mengkai agreed. Once he had finished eating the rest of the soup, he offered his bowl to his two companions who then shared the pieces of meat that remained. While they were enjoying their meal, sitting on the porch of Nadaer's house, they noticed how a handful of villagers were approaching, each holding a bowl and spoon of their own. One by one people came over to have their share of the soup, all expressing their gratitude. While Nadaer didn't mention that the three creatures had helped her, they still were delighted by the compliments many of the villagers offered, since they had been part of the process. It was important to them, giving them a hint of a sense of belonging. As they basked in the beams of the afternoon sun, they watched how people came and left, wondering if they could be part of their world. A few folks talked about places beyond the village, which made the trio think. Maybe, their place was somewhere else entirely. The Village of Newfound Hope seemed like a nice settlement, but there was a whole other world out there. And perhaps somewhere out there the truth about their origin awaited. This thought was something the trio played with together as they quietly muttered with each other, sitting on the porch even after some time when the last villager had left and the cauldron was empty. But little did they know, their story was just beginning – and it would take them to a grand journey.little momentsHe’s four when he realises he isn’t quite like the other children his age. His frail hands, yet unmarked by war or weaponry, shake when he reaches for his mother’s own, and he stumbles and trips over himself and has trouble carrying anything too heavy. He often goes to bed exhausted and wakes up cold and shivering, and some part of his young mind wonders if there’s something wrong with him. Why isn’t he as strong as his peers? Why isn’t he allowed to play with them yet? He does not know why he’s so tired but he wants to become stronger one day. — He’s six when he sees his father cry for the first time. He wakes in the middle of the winter night, awkwardly waddling to the door of his tiny room, his favourite blanket in tow. He peeks around the wall and sees his father sitting by the hearth, head in his hands, his shoulders quaking. He doesn’t understand that he will never see his mother again. He doesn’t understand that every time his father looks him in the eyes, he sees the woman he loved so dearly. Oblivious to his father’s grief, he throws himself into the man’s lap, and stares up at him. Why are you sad, he asks, his green eyes wide and round. His father doesn’t respond, instead falling silent and then embracing him fiercely, as if his son is the last thing keeping him alive. He’s not sure why his father is crying but he wants to make him happy again. — He’s fifteen when he realises the body he was born in isn’t his. He quickly learns to avoid his reflection, to change quickly, to hide himself and the inner turmoil he’s feeling. He begins to despise bathing, seeing his bare skin and face in the water becomes distressing. He wishes he could tell someone but he’s too afraid. His mind harkens back to feeling as if there was something wrong with himself, even as a child. Why does the very thought of being in front of a mirror petrify him? He wishes he understood why his body now feels like a prison but he’s not sure he ever will. — He’s eighteen when his world is turned upside down. His father takes his last breath as he screams, begs, pleads for him not to leave his son behind. He sits by the bedside for hours more, his father’s voice now silent and his hands, stone-cold. Everything hurts. His mind becomes a whirlwind of dark, pained thoughts and he spirals over and over and over. He forgets to eat, he isolates himself, he refuses to leave the home his family once shared. He begs and prays for a miracle to bring his father back but deep down, he knows his cries will ultimately be unanswered. — He’s twenty five when he loses the last things he held dear. He’s dragged off across the river by his bound wrists, and he hangs his head, blood dripping from his brow from the strike of a halberd. His chest aches and his eyes sting with tears. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s seemingly forgotten how to speak and he closes his eyes, shaking his head, berating himself for being such a failure. How could he let the people he vowed to serve go unprotected? He tries to find the words, a sorry, a reassurance, anything, but he can’t. — He’s not much older when a merciful death comes for him and he wonders. He wonders if it was all worth it.true strengthCayden. It was a simple name from a simple source. And yet, he still wasn’t used to hearing it, not even from within his own head and much less from other people. Nobody knew, of course, and he never expected them to call him as such. Yet. But it was becoming unbearable, holding on to such a painful secret. His mind was in a violent lurch, constantly going back and forth. He’d firmly tell himself today was the day and then not hours later, he would receive a painful, albeit unintended, reminder that in fact, his name was Kaylen and that it was likely going to stay that way. He had already failed to tell the person who meant the most to him before it was too late. Much too late in fact, his father had died nearly a year ago. Despite the fact that several months had passed, and he had celebrated his birthday without his family for the first time, it felt like it had been yesterday. The grief was always fresh in his mind, glaringly obvious and almost annoyingly persistent. His father’s death had left a gaping wound in his very soul. And even then, the fact that he had not told him hurt even more , somehow. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice Erik take a seat across from him at the dining hall’s long, wooden table. He hadn’t touched his food or water, despite having been sitting for… how long, he wasn’t sure. He had lost track of the time. “Kaylen? Are you all right?” Erik cleared his throat and had his arms crossed on the table, looking at him expectantly. “You’re overthinking again, I can see it in your eyes.” He cringed internally at being referred to with his given name and shrugged halfheartedly. Praying that Erik couldn’t sense his anxiety or fear, he began absentmindedly picking at the food on his plate. “You can tell me anything, I swear by it,” Erik offered him a gentle smile. “I promised your father I would look after you and care for you and I intend to keep that promise.” Would you still care if you knew this isn’t the true me? “I’m… I’m fine, I swear. I just…” Shaking the ominous thoughts out of his head, he ran a hand through his long hair. “I miss him.” That at least wasn’t a whole lie, though it was definitely not the biggest reason he was upset. Erik furrowed his brows in sympathy and let out a soft sigh. “I’m sorry. I do say that quite a lot, but I am,” Erik shook his head, his loose braid bobbing around his shoulders. “You’re too young to experience this much loss.” Cayden nodded slowly. He really wasn’t sure if there was a good age to be experiencing heart wrenching grief for both the parents you had lost, but he figured eighteen was indeed, too young. His father had always told him of his battles and Cayden knew more than anyone that his job was not the safest or most secure. But Silas had taken his duty to his people and the community of Aldred very seriously and he had always admired that. If only I was that brave. “I suppose so. I don’t really know,” Cayden shook his head. “Everything hurts so much, Erik, I- Gods, I miss him so much…” “I miss him too. He was my best friend,” Erik reached out to Cayden and took one of his hands. “That’s why I need to look after you. I can’t ever replace him and I don’t want to but I want you to know I will always stand by you.” … Do I dare test the limits of that promise? “I need to go,” He felt a wave of anguish and fear come over him. Standing from his meal, he forced out a reason. Another lie, really, but what difference did it make? “I need to… Get some fresh air. It might help clear my head.” “All right, but do not go far and be careful if you enter the forest,” Erik thankfully didn’t question him. “We have not seen many signs of danger lately but still, I am in charge of protecting you and I take that very seriously.” He closed his eyes for a moment before dipping his head in thanks. He strode out of the hall slowly and almost robotically, his mind a blur. As soon as he was sure Erik couldn’t see where he was going, he broke into a run towards the forest. Vines and loose leaves whipped at his face as he sprinted down the path. Not caring if they would give him additional scars like the ones he already had on his nose, he kept running, deeper and deeper into the woods until the sun was barely visible through the thick trees. Tears streamed down his face as the weight of what he was about to do crept up on him. He briefly shut his eyes in anguish, narrowly missing a collision with a leaning branch. The path began to widen and the trees thinned out, until he was standing in the middle of a clearing lined by towering trees, with jagged green leaves. It appeared as though some unnatural magic had created a perfect circle in the middle of the forest and long grass swayed in the wind. The same trees where his last name had come from. The same place his father would always take him for one of his famously told stories of his heroic efforts. The same place his father was buried. He fell to his knees on the soft grass, at least thankful it wasn’t barren dirt or pebbles. Cayden clutched at his chest in a feeble attempt to ease the heartache and strained, quiet sobs escaped his throat. He could see it from where he was crouching and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with the gravesite. The pale white headstone was of course, silent, indifferent to his grief and tears. Cayden hadn’t been to the site since his father’s death and he was utterly unprepared for how much the reality of the situation would hurt. It felt like he was losing his father all over again. The tears kept coming and now, terrified whimpers were escaping him and he felt weak and pathetic. He wasn’t brave enough to tell his father who he really was, even when the man had been dying in front of him and he wondered if he could do it, even now, when he knew his father couldn’t hear him anyway. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never told you. I’m sorry you never got to know who your daughter really is. I failed you, I should have told you, you should have heard the words from me, I should-” He stopped momentarily, his anxiety spiking. Even if he knew nobody could hear him, the fear was still embedded in his mind and he faltered. His eyes locked with the gravestone and he choked out another sob. “I’m sorry, father,” he steeled himself as he finally brought forth the truth he had tried so hard to bury for so long. “I’m sorry I never told you that you had a son. My name is Cayden, and I’m your son.” There. I said it. I finally said it… When nobody could hear me, of course. Gods, I’m a weakling, aren’t I? He was so busy crying and feeling sorry for himself that he didn’t hear the footsteps behind him. Cayden didn’t notice Erik striding towards him, his blue eyes sad and worried. A gentle tap to his shoulder nearly made him fall forward and he spun around, eyes wide. Oh no- He was at a loss for words. His green eyes were bloodshot and tears still covered his face, and at that moment, Cayden knew he probably looked like he had seen a ghost. He stared down at the ground, unable to make eye contact. “So that’s what you’ve been hiding all this time,” Erik sighed softly, frowning, but instead of anger or admonishment like Cayden expected, his voice was gentle. “I’m sorry you didn’t feel safe enough to tell me. But I won’t tell anyone, if you don’t want me to. Your secret is safe with me, I swear my life upon it.” He finally glanced up and stared at Erik, his mouth hanging open. Realisation struck him and before Erik could really protest, Cayden threw his arms around the blacksmith, more sobs escaping him. At least this time, these sobs were tears of joy. Of relief and elation and pure, undiluted happiness . He was grinning so hard his face began to ache and Erik returned the embrace with a few chuckles and a gentle, affectionate slap to his shoulder. “I’m sorry about earlier, Cayden,” Erik pulled back and smiled, shaking his head at himself for the earlier mistake. “There, that’s one thing I know I can do. Let me make up for lost time.” “Just… Not while anyone else is around, I suppose,” Cayden shrugged sheepishly. He knew he had more people to tell but he would cross that bridge when he came to it. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I must look like some weak fool who can’t be honest with-” “No. Not at all, do not dare say such a thing about yourself,” Erik shook his head. “You’re the bravest young man I’ve ever met, to be so honest with oneself… That takes true strength, Cayden.” A surge of euphoria ran through him at being referred to as a young man, and with his newly chosen name, and he quickly embraced the other again. “Just… Try not to go running into the forest again, all right? I need to keep you safe,” Erik laughed, rolling his eyes playfully. “At least not without telling anyone or without being armed.” “I understand,” he nodded firmly. “I may be brave as you said but I must not be stupid.” Erik nodded and stood, reaching a hand out to Cayden to help him to his feet. He put an arm around the other and grinned. Cayden realised he had brought a small bouquet of flowers, likely to leave at his father’s grave. They approached the site together, and Cayden took a deep breath as Erik leaned down to leave the tribute at the headstone. Erik squeezed his hand in reassurance and they stood in silence before turning away. As they strode to the path and began making their way back to Aldred, Cayden made a mental note to visit the clearing more often.mirrorsif i am made of everyone i have ever loved,then you are the end all, the epitome,and if i locked my worth in a dusted boxthen your hands would keep the rusted keys ... and how could you have ever inspired such fearif i was the one holding the fractured mirror?once upon a timeonce i met a soldierand sat with him awhilehe gave me an old taleof a flame that burnedso hot, so brightyet was doomed to fail he spoke of the face of warof battles to turn the tidethen wounds and broken bonesas his voice wavered and shookit was then i understoodhe knew what it was like to die he told of ill times and woeand though he spoke few wordshis voice measured and slowgleaming, shining at his sidethe candles caught the steelof an old, yet trusted sword though his face was coveredin markers of old painand time had clearly been unkinda smile danced upon his lipsto his hurt, he paid no mindas i asked him about his bladeresting upon his hip with a flourish and a raiseof his right, scarred armplayfully, he pointed it at methe sword held as if made of airhe gestured to it eagerlythen swung it with dramatic flair with the world on his shouldersand so many lives at stakefor everything he'd losthe'd fought and cried and bledbut how could he have lived,if he was already long dead? and yet how could i fault him,how could i place blame?when deep down, we both knewwe were always one and the same