No Sin Too Great

Chapter 5

“The paths that I once tread have all but gone/Only embers now smolder where bridges once burned. I feel alive and yet I fear what may happen now/I know I can’t return.” – VNV Nation ‘Distant’


Phyra kept her face impassive as Ramad descended the stairs. Resembling the villain from a child’s fairytale rather than the savior of a damsel in distress, Ramad moved down the stairwell like a great cat stalking its prey in all of his black leather finery. As he approached, he could see the fire of a thousand hells still burning in her eyes, and knew the elemental was ready to defend its vessel. Carefully, he reached out a gloved hand and gently laid it on her arm.

“Calm yourself,” he said, soothingly. He watched closely as the beast behind her eyes recognized him. Her breathing eased into its normal rhythm. She closed her eyes for only a moment, and when opened again, they had returned to the gentle gray of her mixed blood. “Better?”

Phyra stared at his hand on her arm. Reaching out, she took his flesh hand in between her own. She was careful with her touch as her hands were still quite warm from her body’s response to the attack.

“You only cover the false hand. I believed you were not ashamed of your folly,” she said, ever more curious about this man’s unexpected appearance.

His eyes widened slightly, and he fought back a laugh. “How can you concern yourself with my vanity when you were just attacked?”

Ignoring his question, Phyra stepped out of his grasp and walked around the tall man to head for the stairs. “I am more interested in your very presence. You did not mention taking a journey in the same direction as our own.”

Ramad had to make long strides to catch up to Phyra as she ascended the stairs. Together they rounded the landing and continued until they reached a platform at the top. A single archway opened to their left, leading into a darkened hallway lit only by torches arranged sparingly along the paneled walls.

In a quieter voice, Ramad said, “Why do I need to clear my travel itinerary with a priestess, especially one who is paid to protect me, and not the other way around?”

The sound of gentle snoring could be heard from the first door they passed. Phyra continued on, ignoring his words, until the only footsteps she heard were her own. She stopped in the center of the hall, and turned to find Ramad in front of the second door. She gave him a questioning look.

“What?” he asked, shrugging off her silent accusation. “This is my room.”

Still standing at the center of the hall, Phyra crossed her arms over her chest, and quietly tapped her foot.

Ramad smiled at her impatience. He pointed down the hall. “Yours is at the end, by the wash room.”

Without any further words, Phyra continued her retreat down the hall to the potentially soiled bed that awaited her. Maybe she would pass on sleep this night in case another drunken male decided to test her patience. Hopefully there was a chair in the room that she could set in front of the door. She could keep watch all night. It wasn’t like she needed sleep. Let the humans have their rest; she would spend the night watching over Sanani.

Ramad still stood outside his door, watching as Phyra departed without as much as a word. “You’re welcome!” he said. But his words fell on deaf ears.

~*~*~

Ferasi reentered the dining room through the front door. The crowd had thinned greatly. Many of the patrons had either retreated to their homes or to the upstairs havens. Looking to the bar, he found a portly woman with dirty blonde hair and two teeth missing. She paid him no attention as she wiped down the bar. He thought he could hear her grumbling about the lazy bartender who pulled a disappearing act. She assumed he was upstairs with his regular girl.

The majority of his group had also retired for the night. All that remained at the table was a sober Darius, a mildly sloshed Kelan, and an inebriated priest. Kelan was discussing the finer points of unrequited love with Jaron, but from Ferasi’s standpoint, he could not tell if the priest was listening since he was leaned over and resting his head on his arms. Darius ignored the both of them, choosing the sounds of the crackling flames over Kelan’s drunken drabble.

“You’re too young to worry about love,” Kelan managed to say, his words slurred by his alcoholic intake. “Besides…we’re preparing for war anyway. Last thing we need is some woman at home, worrying about us. Give me a good whore any day!”

Kelan flung his half-full mug into the air to punctuate his words. Several drops of ale tumbled over the rim and splashed onto Jaron’s head and Darius’s armor. With one hand, Jaron started to swat away what he believed was a bug laying on his damp hair. Darius, however, only turned and looked at Kelan. Ferasi quickly recognized the stare of a man on the edge of an angry outburst. He was only a breath away from beating the life out of Kelan.

Ferasi leaned over and gently pushed Kelan’s arm down. “Have a care with your words,” he said, his deep voice carrying a touch of concern. “They may do you more harm than him good.”

He caught Darius’s eye, and the two warriors shared a silent moment of understanding. Ferasi knew this man’s story, every one of them did, and in his years on this world, he too had experienced love and loss. He could empathize with the warrior’s plight, but at the same time, he couldn’t let Darius sacrifice his freedom because he killed a loud-mouthed braggart in a bar.

The moment of clarity between them was brief. Darius blinked again, but his eyes were still full of anger and hurt. Using the table as leverage, he pushed his chair away with so much force that the table drove into Kelan’s stomach, and far enough way that Jaron slid off and tumbled into the floor.

Kelan’s weak words of pain and regret echoed throughout the tavern, but Darius was already halfway up the stairs.

~*~*~

The next morning found the women waiting for the men to gather with the caravan. Sanani had settled any tabs that remained with the owner while Phyra sent for the horses and coach. Together, they had shared breakfast with a few of the inn’s early risers and with others that had yet to find their beds. Sanani chatted with the barkeeps about lack of monies floating around due to recent attacks on other cities. People were only travelling to find necessities within their neighboring villages, and fewer still were filling the roads because many of those who were put out had taken up the time-honored profession of thieving. Sanani knew a little about this subject. The bandits were the king’s reasoning for adding a small regiment of warriors to their group.

Phyra shared a somewhat enlightening meal with a certain red-haired woman with whom she had spoken with the night before. She learned about the nature of her job, and she explained in graphic detail about the ins-and-outs of determining what the customers want. As crude as the subject matter was, Phyra took an interest in the woman’s techniques, and decided to file the information away for a later time. She had no other female acquaintances with whom she could discuss such matters, but she wondered if, when this trip was finished, she could talk with Sanani about this particular subject.

Phyra was already seated at the top of her mount when the first of the warriors came outside, thanks to the help of a very eager stable hand. Emmet was the first one out. He strode up to his horse and mounted with ease. As he turned the beast around, he gave her a wink. Sanani looked up at her from her position next to the stirrups.

“Phyra, did I miss something last night,” she asked, unable to stem her curiosity.

Phyra did not respond as the brothers exited next, followed closely by Darius. Aze looked well-rested, but the same couldn’t be said for Kelan. He was half leaning on his brother as they found their horses. With some effort, Aze was able to help his brother onto the beast.

When he caught the women staring, he said, “The cold air will do him good. Do not worry.”

Darius did not look at either of them as he found his horse, and rode up to Emmet’s side. The large man clapped him on the shoulder, and said something to the sullen warrior that made him crack a smile.

When Worjack and Ferasi came out, the women saw something limp hanging from Worjack’s shoulder. Phyra recognized the armor of her companion. They approached the coach’s door and knocked. The door opened and Tayon stepped out. The three of them had words, then Tayon stepped aside as Worjack dumped Jaron’s body inside. He turned to Ferasi, grabbed the man’s shoulder and spoke in hushed words. Ferasi gave one nod, then walked in the women’s direction. Worjack waved to Emmet before he returned to the inn.

Sanani patted the neck of Phyra’s horse. “Looks like that’s my cue. I’ll see you in the next town.”

Phyra smiled at the woman as she stepped into the coach, then wondered why she had not seen Ramad yet that morning. Next to her, Ferasi climbed upon his horse. He drew his cloak tight around his shoulders before pulling up the reins.

“We will ride hard and fast today,” he said as he gave a curt nod to Aze.

Ahead of them, Emmet and Darius took up the front of the caravan. Kelan and Aze separated, each moving to cover one of the exposed sides of the carriage.

“You and I will cover the rear. I fear we may find trouble before this day ends,” Ferasi said ominously.

Phyra did not enjoy the idea of his portentous prophecy, and suddenly did not look forward to the day’s ride. Maybe she should have slept during the night after all. Phyra nudged her horse with her heel, and together they followed the carriage around the outside of the small town and onto the waiting snow covered roads.

“Worjack is not joining us?” she asked, curious about the general’s whereabouts.

Ferasi kept his eyes on the coach before them. “The blacksmith had business in the town. He and the general will catch up later this afternoon. Since the priest is incapacitated, we had an extra horse.”

Ahead, all Phyra could see was a white landscape; white hills, white trees, white rocks. Nothing grew in this barren land during the winter months, and yet, winter had only just begun. She hoped this trip would be quick. The thought of getting stranded in a snow covered keep for the entirety of one season was most unbearable. And as though they could hear her thoughts, she heard a crack against a horse’s flank and their pace quickened.

~*~*~

“I don’t get it, he has been more talkative on this trip than I have ever seen,” yelled Emmet over the harsh winter wind.

The caravan had slowed its pace through the thick woods as it was met with a sudden bluster of snow. It took only a few moments before the snow went from descending lazily from the afternoon sky to a complete whiteout. Emmet and Darius barely managed to make out the trodden road in front of them. Each had drawn their weapons, uneasy at the thought of an ambush hidden behind the snowfall.

“Sir!” yelled Aze as he approached Emmet’s left flank. “What’s the plan?”

Emmet let go of his reins to wipe the snow from his face. His faceguard had been up because of his conversation with Darius, and now he could barely feel his nose or see his hand in front of his face. “Remain ready!” he shouted over the din of the wind. “We don’t know if something awaits us! Gods know some sorcerer could have called this storm!”

Emmet could see Aze nod as best he could amid the whiteout, and watched him hold up his reins to fall back into line next to the coach. Emmet turned his attention back to Darius, only to find the soldier riding ahead of the caravan. He was far enough ahead that Emmet could barely make out the silhouette of his black armor and dark horse.

“Darius, you’re too far out!” he yelled to his old friend. He knew Darius had more sense then to move away from their travelling party. Maybe he was moving forward to put an end to their previous conversation.


~*~*~

True to Ferasi’s word, the ride was indeed long and hard. It was hard because of the constant switch between the horse’s gallop and trot as though they were trying to make up lost time. Her body felt readily abused by the steady jarring against the horse and the saddle, and her legs ached from the strain of keeping her on the beast.

And it was long because that very statement, made hours before, was the last words that Ferasi had spoken. So, for the first few hours, Phyra entertained her own thoughts while enjoying the distractions of the snow covered landscape. She had no memories regarding such a work of nature, so she decided to take in all that she could, not knowing if she would ever return to this winter wonderland. Occasionally, her gaze wandered to her mysterious riding partner.

His outward appearance was intriguing to her. She had not seen him expose his hair yet, always hiding it under the leather hood of his cloak, and she wondered what was below that he needed to hide. His skin was the color of tanned leather, and it was stretched over very sharp features. His narrow eyes were set off by his high and angular cheekbones. His small nose and chin both came to a fine point. To Phyra, he looked like a finely honed weapon. His eyes seemed to never leave the road ahead, but on further observation, she could see his eyes scanning the trees around them. It was a subtle movement, meant to not warn any enemies who might wish them harm.

Perhaps Sanani had been correct in her prediction. Though he had only spoken three sentences, he had still conversed with her. Of course, the conversations had been one-sided, and he was silent afterward, but to her, that seemed like progress.

However, some time after the sun passed its peak in the sky, Phyra noticed that the caravan began to slow. It was only a matter of minutes before it was almost at a standstill. Looking to Ferasi again, she saw the man wipe at his face, but he did not notice her interest in his action. Looking ahead, she watched as Aze kicked his horse and slowly moved forward to Emmet’s side. And just like Ferasi, he too was wiping at his face as though he was trying to remove something that was blocking his sight.

“Why are we slowing?” she asked, confused by the other warriors’ actions, “Won’t it be dark before we reach the next town?”

As Phyra stood in her saddle to peer ahead, Ferasi ducked his head. “It will be dark when we arrive,” he almost yelled. Phyra looked at him again, shocked at the tone of his voice. “We may have to find shelter sooner to ride out this storm!”

While standing, Phyra looked up, and saw only the pale blue of a winter’s sky. Looking ahead, she could see the forest coming to an end, and the first horses broke into a large field. There was snow on the ground, most likely from the night before, but there was nothing suggesting a storm brewing, and certainly nothing ahead that would keep them from moving on.

“I do not understand,” she said, keeping her voice low so not to alert the brothers who were close by. “I see nothing that indicates that a storm is imminent.”

Ferasi glared at her the best he could, but in the end, he had to put a hand up to cover his eyes from the driving snow. To him, Phyra and her horse were covered in snow. He could barely see her face, but in her eyes, he saw the surety of her statement.

“Go to the front!” he yelled over what she guessed was the wind. “Inform Emmet immediately!”

Phyra nodded, and kicked her horse into action. Together they trotted past Aze and the coach. She found one of the side windows open, and Sanani waved to her from inside.

“Darius! You’re too far out!” she heard Emmet yell as she approached his left flank.

Phyra pulled her horse in line with Emmet’s, and put a hand to his arm. When he turned, he seemed surprised to see her. “Priestess, you shouldn’t be up here! This storm might blow a slight thing like you away!”

Together, they stood at the edge of the tree line, and she examined the landscape. There was a large field for them to pass through, the road clearly visible beneath the thin layer of snow. To the right of the road, mere feet away from where they rode, was the bank of a frozen lake. And Darius’s horse was walking straight towards it.

Without hesitation, Phyra yelled, “Darius! Don’t move!”

Behind them, the wagon came to a halt, and Aze rode to Phyra’s side. Emmet’s attention was on Darius, who continued to move forward.

“What is the meaning of this?” Aze questioned, his first spoken words to Phyra displaying harsh criticism of her and her actions.

“There is no storm,” she said loudly so they could hear her over the din of what they were experiencing.

Ignoring Darius, Emmet looked back to Phyra. “What do you mean?” he asked as he made a wiping action up his arm, then held out his hand to her. “Can you not see all this snow on my armor?”

Phyra looked at his empty hand, and shook her head. Emmet watched her for a moment, then yelled, “Darius! Come back!”

Darius pulled up the reins of his horse just before it stepped onto the ice. He shot the group a look. “What for? I’m following the road!”

Before anyone else could respond, Phyra said, “That road leads to your death, warrior! Another step and you will find yourself in a watery grave below the surface of a barely frozen lake!”

Emmet looked around at their surroundings. He could hardly see the line of trees that they had just passed through, and ahead he could see nothing but the barren expanse of snow covered ground and windswept flakes. However, he could see the same road that Darius perceived, the very one that Phyra warned them about.

“Darius! She’s right. We’ve just passed into the fields of Corlea!” he yelled at the displeased warrior.

Aze, too, started to look around, taking in the wilderness around them. “You’re right!” he said before he looked at Darius. “There is a lake that runs next to the road for almost half a mile!”

Emmet nodded, “And that lake wouldn’t have a thick freeze this early in the season.”

All three men turned their attention to Phyra. Two of them appeared surprised, and one was skeptical. “Can you lead us out of this illusion?” Aze asked from her side, this time not yelling his words. She was surprised to hear the previous critical tone gone as well.

Phyra looked ahead, the road clear as far as she could see. “I can.”

Darius could not understand why two of his fellow soldiers would so easily believe the words of this complete stranger, a stranger that had stolen something very precious to him. Darius struggled to ride back to Emmet’s side. He held up his left arm to block an apparent blast of snow. “Just like that, we’re going to take her word? How do we know she didn’t create this storm?”

Aze was already moving to the back of the caravan to report to Ferasi and the others in the coach. Phyra was sure they would start to wonder why they were not moving. Emmet reached over and patted Phyra on the leg, who in turn gave him a confused look. “Darius, she has no reason to lead us astray. Damn, from what I can tell, she just saved your ass.”

Phyra smiled at his words, feeling a sense of pride for her action that kept Darius safe, but that smile quickly faded when she saw Darius scowl at her. “She’s one of them, Emmet. She’ll see us all dead before we can return home.”

Emmet rolled his eyes. “And I say she has proven most useful up to this point. If she keeps you on your toes, then we’re all the better for it. Now move to Aze’s position and help cover the carriage.”

He couldn’t believe Emmet would be so trusting of someone that had destroyed their village. And her little smile of satisfaction only made his anger boil hotter. He looked forward to the day when she showed her true self, and proved him right all along. Darius huffed before kicking his horse. As it lurched forward, Phyra was certain she heard the word ‘fools’ uttered before he disappeared around the carriage.

Emmet took a moment to wipe more illusory snow from his face before looking at Phyra. “I believe you will take the lead from here,” he said, making a grand sweep with his arm to usher her forward.

Phyra gave Emmet a curt nod with the order, and proceeded to lead the caravan down the road that only she could see. And the further they travelled, the more Phyra felt that they were not alone in that barren field. Someone was watching, something that stirred the spirit within her. She wondered what their original intent was; to slow down the caravan and keep it from its destination, to sink them in the depths of the lake, or to simply draw her to the forefront. From her vantage point, the world was white. Nothing moved, not even a breeze. But she decided to keep a steady eye on the horizon, and follow the road ahead because for the first time she could remember, she was responsible for other people’s lives.

~*~*~

As night fell on the barren lands, Phyra found that the caravan was starting to lag behind. Where she still had no problem seeing the road, those with human eyes were having trouble seeing her in the oncoming darkness. When she mentioned this to Emmet, he said he would switch positions with Ferasi, thereby sending her an extra pair of eyes.

To the others, the storm had started to fade once they crossed the border of Corlea and into the rocky terrain that lead directly to Lochlayn’s capital of Ashcliff. When she heard a surprised shout from Emmet, and suddenly found him at her side, he confirmed that it was true. He wanted to send her to the back of the caravan, back to where he believed it was safer for her, but she shook her head at his order and explained that she was perfectly comfortable where she was. Comfortable was a relative term considering she couldn’t feel her body parts below her waist due to the extended riding. When she told him that she could just as easily fall under attack at the back as she could at the front, he conceded and continued to ride at her side.

To Phyra’s astonishment, he was very pleasant company. Emmet easily fell into a detailed commentary about his life. She learned that he was not from Deepvale, that he actually came from a country far to the east that had since become part of Lochlayn’s territory. He was recruited at a young age, and had been stationed at a number of locales, but none of them where like Deepvale. He explained that he and Darius had become instant friends.

“I remember the day he proposed to his wife. She nearly dropped a platter of roasted boar when she came around the corner and found him on bended knee with a bouquet of daisies in his hand,” Emmet laughed. Phyra tried to picture Darius with a softer side, but their recent encounters with one another kept her from seeing that in him. “Of course, I was sad because I had to start going to the whorehouses by myself, which in the end turned out to be a good thing. You know, it meant more women for me!”

Though she did not understand why that was a good thing, she still smiled so he would keep talking. To her, his laugh was almost infectious, deep and bellowing. She was sure the men in the back could hear him, as well as any enemies that may be following them.

Silence eventually filled the air again, lulling them into their own thoughts. Together they watched the sun as its fiery edge slipped past the jagged peaks of the mountain line. It cast long shadows across the road, and Emmet let out a loud yawn.

“How much farther must we travel?” Phyra asked, deciding she was already tired of silence.

“Just a few more miles,” he said, fighting off another yawn. “We’ll cross one more set of hills. At the top, you’ll be able to see the walls surrounding the town at the castle’s base. It really is a grand spectacle for a capital city affixed to a mountain.”

Phyra looked ahead, and could see the road start to rise in the distance. Not much longer, and she could get off her horse and try to remember how to walk again. She was afraid she would not be successful in that endeavor.

“You know, you can’t let him get to you,” said Emmet quietly. Those words got Phyra’s attention, and knew the ‘him’ was the subject of their prior conversation. “He’ll come around in his own time.”

Emmet looked down at his left hand, and could see the remnants of his failed attempt to save Darius’s family. “Look, I don’t know if you were involved or not...”

Phyra shrugged, and spoke up before he could finish his thought. “And neither do I, Emmet, if I may be so informal with you.”

Emmet smiled. “The point is we’re all here to perform a duty. And I don’t want his abrasive attitude to get in the way of his job, or yours.”

Phyra kept her eyes on the road ahead, but Emmet was able to see her give him one short nod, almost imperceptible in the dying light. He reached over and punched her in the arm, almost unseating her from her steed.

“You’re all right, priestess,” he said warmly. “You let me know if you ever need anything. I’m at your service.”

Shortly thereafter Ferasi rode at her side again. As usual, he did not speak, so Phyra took the time to focus on the road ahead. She wanted to memorize the terrain, but even her eyes were not that strong. As they crested the last hill, the two of them paused to look at the city below.

Phyra could see a large town spread out for a mile beneath them. It was all enclosed by a semicircular wall, but at this distance she couldn’t tell how high it reached. Fires burned all through the city, tracing the intricate pattern of streets and lighting up the night sky. There was enough light shining that she could see the outline of Lochlayn’s castle jutting out from the mountain behind the town. It certainly was a spectacle. Never before had she seen something built into the side of a mountain.

In her admiration of the city, she failed to see Ferasi pull ahead of her. Nudging her horse with the stirrup, the animal nervously trotted to Ferasi’s side as though something had spooked it. When he started to flick his head, Ferasi reached out a hand to the horse’s neck. Instantly the animal calmed, and Phyra let herself relax again.

She wanted to ask him what he had done to the horse, but before she could get the words out, her heartbeat started to accelerate. As they continued their decent down the hill, she began to breathe fast, as though she was trying to keep pace with her pounding heart. Phyra reached out a hand to the horse’s mane to steady herself, but found moving her arm caused it to tingle and throb. To Phyra, it felt like something was slipping into her place and into her very skin, removing her control of her own body and making her merely an observer through her own eyes. Phyra opened her mouth to speak, fearing that if she didn’t say something that she would lose that ability as well, but her words were choked and trapped in a sudden rush of air. She couldn’t breath.

Ferasi looked back to see why she was lagging behind again, and found the priestess with her mouth open and her eyes wide. She was bent over her saddle, and looked like she might pass out at any moment. He pulled up the reins on his horse and immediately jumped down. It took only a moment to help her off the horse, but when he felt her in his arms, she felt as though she were on fire. He laid her gently on the snow covered ground, letting her helmet fall away so he could feel her forehead. The snow underneath her began to steam as it melted under her feverish body. Her cloak fanned out beneath her, revealing a set of dim flames pulsing up her arm. They were faint, but as the pulsing quickened, he was afraid the flames would grow. The coach stopped directly behind them, and Kelan and Aze rode up.

“What’s wrong with her?” Kelan asked.

Ferasi ignored his words, keeping his focus on the woman in his arms.

“I need to ask you a question,” he said, keeping his eyes on hers. “Can you answer?”

Phyra opened her mouth to speak and choked on another rush of air from her lungs. She coughed furiously, but managed to nod her head.

Ferasi placed both hands on her face, and pulled her within inches of his own. His eyes were so close that they looked like the darkness of a moonless night, the depths of which she may lose herself in, and they seemed to bore straight into her soul.

“Have you been to this city before?”

Phyra shook her head quickly. Ferasi watched her closely and found what he sought. A single flame flickered behind her eyes.

“I’ll ask you again. Have you been to this city before?”

Phyra did not understand why he was asking a second time. She made to shake her head again, knowing that she had never been here before. But instead, she found herself nodding involuntarily. Ferasi watched as her eyes went wide with realization.

“Do not fear. I will help you,” he whispered. Ferasi looked up to the two brothers near them. “Bring the priest.”

Aze turned his horse around and left for the wagon, but he had to move around Emmet’s and Darius’s horses first. Both men had ridden to the front to see what was holding them up. Ferasi ignored their other travelling companions, trying to keep his focus on the woman panicking before him.

“Phyra, I need you to stay calm. In order for you to regain control of your body, I need you to focus on me. Know that I will allow no harm to come to you. Will you trust me?”

Phyra blinked once, afraid that she would not able to acknowledge him in any other way. She could feel feet running towards them, and Jaron stumbled to a stop next to them.

“What’s going on?” he asked between frantic breaths. “What happened to her?”

Ferasi laid a hand over her forehead again, and still he did not break eye contact with her to answer the priest’s anxious questions. “I need you to lead the caravan to the city. The path is straight from this point on and you should encounter no trouble. Take her horse. When she has calmed, we will follow.”

Jaron crossed his arms and locked his legs in place. “I’m not leaving her alone with you. We don’t even know you! How dare you ask us...”

“I’m not asking,” Ferasi said coldly.

Phyra could hear a scuffle next to her, and then heard footsteps walking away. But through it all, her focus was on Ferasi’s eyes and his touch. His intensity lulled her in, and though he was not speaking, she could feel her body coming down from its fear. And underneath her fear, she felt a deep and resounding anger. The emotion was so strong, and yet, she could not identify the source or reason for it. But Phyra was certain of one thing; this emotion was not her own. It was coming from the spirit sharing her body.

When she blinked again, the lights from their caravan were gone. There were no sounds of marching horses. There was no banter between the men. There was only Ferasi, and weightless air in her chest. She took one breath, and then another. She dared to move, and found lifting her arm smooth and painless. She placed her hand against Ferasi’s that was still planted on her face.

“Come,” he said as he pulled away from her. His hands slid down her arms to her own hands, and with his help, she was lifted from the ground.

Phyra found her legs unsteady, and she was hesitant to let go of Ferasi. With his help, he walked her to his horse. Inside, she was a mass of confusion. What had caused her to panic? Why could she not control her body? She had so many questions, and from his tender care and understanding of her situation, she figured Ferasi could answer several of these for her.

As they walked, she looked down at the city again, and found most of it in darkness. Yet, it only felt like moments before when she was astride her horse and riding to that very town. She couldn’t remember when the caravan had moved on, and when she tried, her mind was as blank and open as Ferasi’s eyes. Just how long had she laid on the snowy ground?

Once they were next to the horse, Phyra put a hand on the animal’s flank to steady herself. Ferasi moved to her side, and pulled her arm away from the warmth of the cloak. He removed the glove covering his hand, and gently stroked his hand over the flame tattoo. Under his touch, she felt an involuntary shiver go up her arm, across her back, and down her spine. The flames flickered under his fingers, and then were stationary again.

“Remove your cloak,” he commanded.

Phyra started at his harsh tone. “I will not.”

Ferasi ignored her noncompliance. “You will catch sickness if you keep that wet blanket about your body. Remove it, and you will wear mine.”

Phyra reached behind, and felt the fur soaked through. It was so damp that she could feel it through her pants. “And if I procure yours, what will you do for warmth?”

Ferasi was far enough away that she could barely see him, but his voice still carried on the night breeze. “That is of no consequence.”

She heard something scraping the ground, and assumed it was Ferasi retrieving her discarded helmet. She was thankful for that as the cold air moved over her damp hair, giving her a chill. Phyra put a hand to the stone embedded in her breastplate, and felt the heat of the stone working extra hard to keep her warm.

She unbuttoned her cloak at the neck, and let its damp weight fall from her shoulders. “I do not need your cloak. I am able to remain warm without it.”

Ferasi’s footsteps approached her, and she could see her helmet in his hands. She took it gratefully, and placed back on her head. She wanted to thank him, but a sound from the distance caught their attention, the sound of hoof beats.

“We have lingered too long,” Ferasi said. He held out his hands to her, cupping them together and holding them low. “Please get on the horse.”

Phyra tossed the cloak over the horse, in front of the saddle. She had to admit, she felt strange standing in the winter air wearing only half armor and showing a fair amount of skin. But Ferasi’s haste kept her from lingering on such pointless thoughts. She placed her foot in his grasp, and he hoisted her easily onto the saddle.

The sound of horses was almost to the edge of the hill. “Who travels at this hour, in this weather?” she asked, ignoring the fact that she too was travelling at such an unusual time.

The horse moved slightly as Ferasi seated himself behind her. His arms slid around her waist, and reached between her spread legs for the horse’s reins. “Worjack and your lover have caught up to us. Are you ready to ride?”

Before she could respond to his comment, Ferasi had cracked the reins and the horse lurched forward. Phyra scrambled to stabilize herself against something, but the horse’s momentum thrust her back into Ferasi’s chest

“There are things you need to know before we reach the city gates,” he said in her ear. “Do you remember what I asked you before?”

Phyra put her hands on the lip of the saddle, finding purchase that allowed her to bounce very little with the horse’s trot. “You asked if I had been here, twice.”

“There is a great amount of defensive magic in this area, meant to protect the citizens of Ashcliff and the castle within its walls. These outer lands sense any form of magical creature. The magic creates fear within it, and that fear tells the creature to turn away, to stay away from this area.”

Phyra thought on that for a moment, and realized that is exactly what she had felt. The fear was so overwhelming that it seized her vital functions, shutting her body down. And yet, she was still compelled to move forward, to continue their journey to Ashcliff. She had a feeling that that motivation, like the anger, was not hers to claim. And if she understood his words, had she turned around and went back the way they came, the fear would have eased on its own. But something else confused her about his statement.

“I am not a magical creature,” she stated matter-of-factly.

His hand stroked her arm again. “You are not, but you are not the only person beneath your skin. That sentient being housed within your body was fused with you using magical means. Separately, you are both creatures of the land, but someone along the way changed how the two of you behave.”

“I am confused,” Phyra said into the oncoming wind. “When you asked me twice, you were not asking just me, correct?”

Ferasi wrapped his left arm around her waist, holding her steady against his body, as though he sensed further apprehension coming from her. Almost immediately, she felt calm again. “It seems coming here has made your elemental unhappy. Something happened here in the past, but before I could delve deeper, you regained control.”

“Then, why am I not running in the opposite direction now?”

She heard Ferasi give a small chuckle behind her. “I am able to calm creatures of nature with my touch.”

It was an open-ended answer, but his subtle laughter told her that was not all. “I don’t believe you.”

In her disbelief, Phyra felt her arm begin to warm under Ferasi’s touch. “I believe your elemental has taken a liking to me.”

“What in seven hells is going on over there?”

Ferasi pulled their horse to a stop as they were surrounded on both sides by Worjack and Ramad. Their horses were breathing hard, indicating that the men had been riding them hard to catch up with the others. The men were equally out of breath.

“Where are the others?” Worjack asked. “Were you attacked?”

“And why is she sitting in your lap? Have you no shame?” asked Ramad, clearly displeased with their riding arrangements.

Ferasi ignored Ramad’s words, choosing to answer Worjack instead. “We had trouble once we crossed the boundary. The others should be in town by now.”

Ramad snorted, and Worjack gave a silent ‘oh’. Phyra looked to Ramad, and found he was as calm as the others, situation not withstanding. “Why is Ramad not affected?”

Ferasi turned his attention to the man on his right, and wrinkled his nose. He was careful to hide his disdain from the woman sharing his saddle. “He is a product of a natural union. Unlike yours, he was born with his magic. His soul is not corrupted,” Ferasi said.

His words made sense, and Phyra found she was not insulted by his last comment. She had already experienced how others viewed her unusual circumstance. “So, your touch would not calm him?”

“His what?” Ramad questioned, his tone getting more and more defensive. That’s when he noticed Ferasi holding her close around the waist. “That’s it. She’s riding in with me. Hand her over this instant!”

All three heads turned to the jealous man. Ferasi sat up and whispered in her ear, “No, it appears my touch would not work on him.”

Phyra covered her mouth to hide her small giggle. Worjack cleared his throat. “She stays where she is. He will help her get past the city’s gates.”

No one had the chance to comment as Worjack kicked his horse into action, and the other two quickly followed behind. Ramad refused to ride ahead or behind them, keeping at their side instead. He didn’t trust her with Ferasi as he did not know the man. He had offered little chance for any of them to get to know him, and it seemed he only confided in Worjack.

The four of them rode for over an hour. Even though the city had seemed so close, that notion was misguided. As they drew closer, Phyra discovered that the wall rose high into the sky. From her estimation, she gathered that it was over fifty feet high, and the turrets spaced apart made the wall seem to rise even further.

By the time they reached the gates, the sky was starting to lighten with the morning dawn. In that light she could see two great statues on either side of the gate. Carved from stone and packed tight in places with mud and metal, they roughly resembled two men, each on bended knee and bowing their heads as though they were before royalty. Both held a spear in their right hands, and a shield in their left.

“This gate is your final test,” Ferasi explained as they slowed to a trot. “These golems are sensitive to hostility, and they protect Ashcliff’s citizens from outside forces that would do them harm.”

Worjack and Ramad continued on through the city’s gate. Phyra did not know what to expect, but when they halted on the other side, she assumed they had no problem with the test.

“What must I do?” she asked.

Ferasi’s grip on her waist tightened further, giving her a euphoric sense of ease. “I need the creature within you calm and quiet. If these statues detect any of what I sensed from it earlier, our journey will end here as our heads are severed from our shoulders.”


AN: I apologize for the long delay. This chapter was finished for the most part in July, however, I've been off and on tweaking it. Hopefully the next update won't take near as long. Happy New Year to all my readers!