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Aya watched the fire, taking in what Villid had said. “Our Seers were considered important people,” she said quietly. “The Festival of Talgi is in celebration of the Dragon of the
E
arth. A small temple stood in the village, but
Elves only prayed there if they were sick, or needed help.” Aya had privately wondered if there were Elf Dragons at all. It was like Llyliana had said – Talgi had never warned her about the Tyran attack, or given them any sort of chance of fighting them off. The Dragons weren’t real – they couldn’t be.
Such a realisation gave Aya an unpleasant feeling of deep cold within her, as if she was losing something. As well as losing her home, she had lost her belief. Aya’s mind fought with itself long before she drifted into an exhausted sleep, as the flames of the fire died down into an orange glow. Across the room, the Knabi boy slept on, twitching and
groaning now and then, but didn’t seem to be anywhere closer to consciousness.

It was their first night staying in Fort Valour, and after being dragged from their beds in the Millnock inn the night before, Aya and Villid hoped for a calm, quiet, and undisturbed night’s rest. The warmth of the fire created pleasant comfort in the room, but when the flames finally died into ashes, the room grew cold. Villid’s blanket was thin, and he shivered. He had been through worse nights than this – he had slept through blizzards and sub-zero temperatures, especially when he and hundreds of other Tyrans had made that journey across Theldiniya to the eastern forest – how was it that it seemed such a long time ago?
His eyes were getting accustomed to the darkness of the room. He wondered if he should get up and relight the fire. As he sat up, he turned to look at Aya, who was slumbering quietly, the blankets up to her chin and her long, thick black hair spread out on her pillow. Her skin looked milky-white in the half-darkness, her lips slightly parted, her delicate face relaxed; she looked more peaceful than Villid had ever seen her, in worriless slumber, the constant anxious frown on her face gone. Villid watched her for a while. She was lovelier than any Tyran woman, somehow much gentler. Perhaps he felt this way because he had never looked at a woman properly before – Tyran women were just items to him, quite happy to be discarded after a
night or two. Without thinking, Villid’s hand reached to Aya’s face and gently stroked her silk-soft cheek.
He cared about her now, he knew that much. No wonder he had felt so angry with himself before – he’d been worried that he might lose her.
He had told her about his past – about his mother, and the Seer, and the hurt of growing up without the one woman who had ever cared about him. Aya sighed softly and turned onto her back. Villid felt his heart thumping, for a reason he couldn’t contemplate.
She was so close. He slowly got to his feet and perched on the bed beside her, careful not to disturb her sleep. He bent his head down to hers so that her face was inches from his. He could feel her soft breathing against his skin. Close enough to touch. Close enough to kiss...
He drew back, sighing slowly. He’d had a feeling that last night, in the Millnock inn, Aya had watched him in the darkness, as he was watching her now. But that had all been a dream, an illusion in his weak mind. Villid stared down at Aya, and before he could stop himself, he had moved closer to her. He edged towards her until his face was close to hers. He could see the small strands of hair that tickled her face… he could feel her quiet breath fanning his lips…
Then a sudden, shattering scream rang round the room and Villid bolted upright as if he had been electrocuted. Aya woke with a jump and sat up too; Villid lost his balance and
tumbled off her bed and onto the floor.
The scream rang louder and louder around the room – the Knabi boy had finally woken up, and was in immense pain. Aya hurried to light a lantern and hung it over his head. The Knabi was shaking uncontrollably underneath the blanket, his pale face ghost-like in the light of the lantern.
Villid stumbled to the fire and quickly lit it. Soon the whole room was flooded with warmth and flickering light. “It’s all right,” Aya whispered, putting her hands on the boy’s face and trying to calm him. “It’s okay. Look at me. You’re safe. Alicia stitched you up and you’ve been asleep for a while, that’s all. What’s your name? What are you doing here?”
The boy’s screams died down, and he
stared at Aya with wide, terrified eyes of the brightest blue. He sat up, and Aya thought for a moment that he was going to throw up all over the floor. But he controlled himself, stared round the small bedroom, and eventually asked in a shaky voice, “Where am I?”
“At an inn in Fort Valour – you’re safe here,” Aya explained, relieved that he could talk, if nothing else. “What’s your name?”
“Navin,” the Knabi answered. His breathing was still quick and panicked. “How did I get here?”
Aya told him quickly. “You were injured, and you came across the drawbridge. We brought you here and Alicia – she’s a human from downstairs – patched you up and
you’ve been sleeping for a few hours or so,”
“Human?” said Navin blankly. He glanced at Villid. “Tyran?” he yelped in panic. “A Tyran! Run, miss!”
“Now, calm down. He’s a friend,” Aya said calmly, laying a hand on his shoulder; it was freezing. “We’re all friends here – Tyrans,
Elves, humans, everyone. Didn’t you know?”
“No,” Navin didn’t take his eyes off Villid, who stared at him strangely. “I didn’t know what to expect when I was coming here. He said it was safe – I guess he wasn’t lying.”
“Who told you?”
“A man. I think he was a mage,” Navin lay back down, glancing at his wings. Aya and Villid looked at each other. Could it be the same mage they had met?
“How did my wing gets bent? How was I injured?”
“That’s what we were hoping you could tell us,” said Aya. “Start from the beginning. What’s the last thing you remember?”
“The mage,” said Navin blankly.
“Right,” said Aya. “How did you meet him? You live in Vallahan, the Knabi homeland, correct?”
“That’s right,” Navin sighed, closing his eyes. “I remember now. I failed the flying test.”
Both Aya and Villid stayed silent. Aya knew a little about the flying test – a test all Knabi had to take eventually. “Could you tell us about that?” Aya asked.
“I guess so. When a Knabi turns sixteen, he has to take the flying test – we are taken to the top of the highest
mountain in all of Vallahan and forced to jump off. It’s to see if fear will make us fly.
And I failed. I couldn’t fly.
”
“How did you survive?”
“I nearly didn’t,” Navin sighed. “I woke up a little later in a cave where two strange people sat round a fire, playing with funny-shaped cards. They muttered something in a different language, and when I spoke to them, they didn’t take much notice of me,” he swallowed. “I didn’t know who they were. They weren’t
Elves, and I’d never seen anyone who wasn’t an Elf or a Knabi before. Eventually they gave me some strange meat to eat, and then started pointing outside the cave and shaking their heads. I think they were trying to tell me that I couldn’t go home. I didn’t believe them at first, and when I was strong enough, I went back to Vallahan. But when I got there...” he sighed, and sat up again. He rubbed his eyes. “Can I have a drink?”
“Of course,” said Aya in surprise. “Just wait here.”
“You’re leaving me with him?” Navin said in fear, glancing at Villid.
“He won’t hurt you,” Aya said. “I’ll be back in a minute,” and she left the room.
Villid and Navin stared at each other uncomfortably for a moment.
“How are you feeling?” Villid said eventually.
“Terrified,” Navin whispered. “I don’t know where I am, I don’t know who you are...”
“Well, for the record, I’m Villid,” said Villid. “And the
Elf is
named Aya. We travel together.
”
“An Elf and a Tyran?” Navin frowned for a moment.
“Yes, an Elf and a Tyran. Travelling together,” Villid finished his sentence for him, feeling slightly irritated. “Why does everyone say that?”
“The mage who sent me here – he asked me to look for an E
lf and a Tyran,” Navin replied. “He told me that it was very important. He
said he was looking for scrolls.”
Villid stared at him. “What scrolls?” he asked slowly.
“I don’t know,” said Navin. “He told me that they were very important – that they had some magic on them that could be dangerous if they fell into the wrong hands,” he swallowed. “He called them the
‘Blood scrolls’, and the one he was looking for was called ‘The Blood of the Fallen.’”
“What did he tell you about it?” asked Villid. Things were getting stranger and stranger, and he didn’t like it.
“He said that they’d been stolen, and they held powerful magic,” Navin said. “And that if the Darkma got hold of them, and performed the magic, it would be a catastrophe for Theldiniya.”
Villid sunk onto the bed. The scrolls he and Aya had found had been in the hands of thieves – human thieves, though, not Darkma. He remembered the strange painting Aya had found of the ritual – dark shapes worshipping an altar. He tried to push away the cold feeling of dread that was creeping up in his chest. What if the scrolls that the
human had bought from them weren’t only valuable, but priceless? If they were the same that Navin and the mage had spoken of, they had let go documents that held powerful magic, and if they fell in the hands of the Darkma, the Tyrans – and Fort Valour, it seemed – had no chance.
The human, Mical, who had bought the scrolls – surely, he wasn’t working for the Darkma. The Darkma had spies, it was true, but they were mostly
Centaurs, not humans from the east. Perhaps Mical had wanted to give them back to the mages himself, and had paid so much to Villid for them because he knew he would get a greater reward from the mages. Yes, that must be it. Perhaps Mical had been a collector, and wanted to examine the scrolls himself. Or… maybe the scrolls they’d had, and the ones the mages were after just weren’t the same ones at all. Perhaps he was worried for nothing.
“He said something else too,” Navin said. “He said that if a Tyran and an
Elf were together, I had to tell him immediately. He whispered something to the lady next to him in the carriage, but I heard him. He said that for the Darkma to perform the ritual on the scrolls, they needed the blood of two opposites.”
Villid stood there, as if rooted to the spot. “The Darkma… need the blood of two opposites?” he repeated. “The blood of the fallen?”
“That’s what he said,” said Navin, rubbing his head. “When I first woke up, I couldn’t remember much. But
now it’s coming back to me. He wants those scrolls. If the Darkma get them, and get you… they’ll be more powerful than ever, and we won’t be able to stop them.”
The door suddenly opened and Aya came back in with a jug of water. She glanced nervously at them both before hurrying to Navin. “Drink this,” she said soothingly. Villid was silent. The mages, who ruled Fort Valour, had lost the scrolls – stolen, by the humans they had seen in the forest. And on the scrolls were legends and spells, which would devastate Theldiniya if they fell into the wrong hands. And they needed him… and Aya. Villid clenched his fists. Normally, Tyrans fought alongside mages in the Red Wars, although now it was mostly the Tyrans’ fight – the mages were small in numbers, now rarely visiting the Elders in Xentar. If they had scrolls, spells and legends, which the Tyrans had little faith in, it was their business. But Villid couldn’t push this one out of his mind. The mage, whoever he was, knew that he and Aya were together in Fort Valour. And the spell he was searching for involved them, too. What kind of magic would be used from an
Elf and a Tyran, or the blood of opposites, whatever they were? Villid couldn’t make sense of it, but he knew one thing – he was going to get those scrolls back, and examine them himself.
He climbed back into bed, his thoughts spiralling round his mind, and prepared himself for yet another sleepless night.

It was morning before Navin told them how he had got there. He looked better in the daylight – he wasn’t as pale, and he was able to sit up properly. Alicia made a great fuss of him.
“Why didn’t you wake me when he screamed?” she asked impatiently. “He could have gone into shock.”
“He screamed in the night,” said Aya apologetically. “We thought you might have heard him.”
“The amount of drink the boys had last night, we wouldn’t have heard anything,” said Alicia, and began fussing around Navin, muttering to herself as always. She gingerly pulled back the bandages and examined the wound. “It’s healing well,” she said. “You’ll be okay.”
Navin ma
naged a smile. Alicia left the
room, clutching the bloody bandages and announcing she was going to get fresh ones.
“So, what happened when you got back to Vallahan?” Aya asked finally.
“I suppose I can tell you,” Navin sighed, leaning against the wall. He looked fearfully at Villid. He suddenly hissed to Aya as if Villid wasn’t there, “Are you sure he doesn’t want to kill us?”
“I’m sure,” said Aya awkwardly. “He’s saved my life a few times.”
Villid glared at Navin. “So, what happened?” asked Aya quickly.
“Well,” Navin’s blue eyes scanned the room as he thought.
“I failed the flying test, so everyone thought I was dead. They were having a memorial about me, since they hadn’t found a body, obviously. You don’t know how strange it is to attend your own funeral,”
He swallowed, and carried on. “Well, I thought everyone would be happy, you see, as I was alive. No one had survived failing the test before – I just thought I could take it again.
The two Seers were on a platform, and everyone was there, crying – I saw my sister, and some of my friends, and everyone looked sad. It broke my heart. So I got up onto the platform and showed everybody I was alive,”
He sighed, and his voice shook. “I’ll cut a long story short, shall I? They refused to know me. They saw me fail and that was enough. The flying test is literally success or death – not always necessarily death of the fall,” his head was bent, and tears began to drop onto his lap. “They attacked me, and I was banished from the city. I looked at my sister but she just turned away. I was chased from Vallahan, they shot arrows and spears as they flew above me. I kept running, and for some reason they didn’t follow. It took me days, but I eventually found a way out and a pathway, maybe made by humans.
“I went along the human road, looking for someone, anyone, to help me. I wasn’t hurt, just shocked – my family, my friends… had all exiled me just for failing the test.”
“So how did you get your injuries?” Villid asked. He could
understand the reasoning behind killing a failure. His own mother had been stoned to death for loving him too much. Tyrans who were weak or deformed in some way were made to work in mines or inns, or else finished off in the arena when they became useless. It was common, but that didn’t mean it was right.
“I met the mage,” Navin said. “He was travelling in a large carriage with other people who hid their faces with cloaks. He was very kind – he gave me food and drink, and told me to make my way north-west towards the mountains, and tell someone that Shavon had sent me. So I went towards the mountains. It took a long time, and I had to hunt for food and sleep under trees and rocks, but I eventually found the mountains. And as I went up, I was attacked,” he swallowed. “They were horrible – black, shadowy creatures with big teeth and red eyes. Three of them jumped on me and scratched me. I hit one with a rock and it bled on me, and my flesh started peeling away on my side and my wing – that’s what happened, I suppose,”
Navin sighed again. “Well, something must have scared them, because they ran away. I could feel my flesh burning and managed to get to my feet. I saw a sign with lots of different languages on – I could barely read it, but I found script I understood and read it aloud... Then the mountain started opening and I saw a drawbridge. I could feel my flesh burning away and it hurt so much. All I could see was a silhouette of a woman on the other side of the bridge...”
“That was Aya,” said Villid.
“So I staggered towards her, and she ran to me, and that’s the last thing I remember.”
He leant against the wall behind him. “It’s strange, how my skin stopped burning when I went across the drawbridge,” he said. “It’s like...”
“There’s magic here?” Aya nodded. “Yes, I think so too.”
“No one can get in unless they were sent by one of the mages,” said Villid. “I’m guessing Shavon is one of them.”
Shavon, then, was the mage who was searching for him and Aya, and searching for the Blood scrolls too.
“So, what are you going to do now?” Aya asked him.
“Well, I can’t go back home, can I?” Navin said.
“That makes three of us,” Villid sighed.
“Three of us?” Navin repeated. “You don’t live here?”
Aya shook her head. “I’m from a village in the eastern forest,” she said. “I can’t go back there right now, because...” she stopped. “...for reasons.”
“I can’t go back to Xentar, either,” said Villid quickly.
“Why not?” Navin sniffed.
Villid and Aya looked at each other. “I was blamed for killing someone.” he said flatly.
“Villid!” Aya hissed, as she felt Navin tremble. “Now, it’s not all that bad,” she said. “He was framed. Someone else killed the Tyran Seer, and blamed him. And he was saving me.”
“Well, at least you have each other,” said Navin. “It must
make it better.”
Aya looked at Villid. He could tell what she was thinking.
“Is there really no other place you can go?” Villid asked cautiously.
“I’ve lived in Vallahan all my life,” Navin said. “I’ve never even seen outside Vallahan before I was chased out.”
Villid sighed and closed his eyes. He knew he would regret it, but something told him Aya would approve. And he wanted her to approve, he really did.
“Well, Navin, if you can’t find anywhere to stay, and you make yourself useful in combat, and you’re sensible – you can stay with us for a while.”
Aya smiled. “Yes, you can,” she said. “After all,
Elves and Knabi should help each other, shouldn’t we?”
“Can I really?” said Navin, looking positively delighted.
“We don’t have a house or anything,” said Villid quickly. “And we’re only staying here a few days. We have to leave for something important soon – we were going to go today, actually...”
“Oh, that’s fine!” Navin said enthusiastically. “I’ll make myself useful, I’ll do anything you want – thank you, Villid! Thank you, Aya!” he suddenly hugged Aya, who smiled sheepishly and patted him on the back.
“All right, but that doesn’t mean we’re family or anything,” Villid said gruffly, feeling a twinge of annoyance as the Knabi boy embraced the Elf. “And – I’m not sure you can come with us to where we’re going.”
“Why? Where are you going?” Navin asked.
“Somewhere very important,” said Aya. “But we won’t take very long. A few days at the most.” she hoped.
“And you’re better off staying here,” said Villid. “You’ll only slow us down.”
Navin looked disgruntled. “Well, if you’re sure,” he said quietly. “I can stay here, and wait for you to come back. I’m so glad I met you, Aya!” he said again, and hugged her a second time. “Now I’m not alone!”