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“All right, you can come with us.” said Villid, although he still felt suspicious.
“And I can teach this youngling how to fly, too,” Morque said, looking down at the sleeping Navin. “Hey, kid!” he suddenly roared. “Wake up! The day has begun.”
Navin jumped violently and his eyes opened. He stared in surprise at the rest of the party standing looking at him. He struggled to his feet, the blanket sliding off his torso and slithering to the floor. “Don’t leave without me!” he murmured, his voice half-tired, half-panicking.
They started to unpack food from the horses. Morque, to
Villid’s annoyance, hadn’t brought anything except a rusty old sword and the clothes on his back. Aya made some herbs and they sat down to eat.
“Today is clear,” Morque observed as they ate. “Not many clouds, and mild. We can make good progress today.”
“You’re a Knabi, right, Morque?” Navin asked. “Have you ever been to Vallahan?”
Morque wiped his mouth with the back of his dirty, hairy arm. “Never,” he said finally. “And I’m half Knabi.”
Aya’s head shot up at his words. Her heart pounded. “Only half?” she whispered.
Morque nodded. “It’s rare, even in Fort Valour,” he grunted. “And there’s a reason. My father was a Tyran – sack of useless horse manure, if you ask me. No offence,” he added, gesturing to Villid with a huge hand clutching a roll of bread. “Anyway, my mother was a Knabi and loved me with all her heart, bless her feathers. Then when she died I didn’t fit in with the Tyrans or the Knabi. The Knabi left me alone though – could have squashed them all flat if they’d started anything. Didn’t stop the name calling, mind – freak, half-breed, I’ve heard them all. Mostly lived by myself since then.”
He bit a large chunk of meat from a lamb leg, and didn’t seem to care when the grease ran into his beard. Villid felt shocked, but not altogether surprised. The Tyran in Morque was very apparent; only his wings betrayed his Knabi blood. He caught Aya’s eye; she jumped slightly at
his gaze and looked down at her food. Love burned inside him as he looked at her. To think that he and Aya had not been the first to fall in love across races.
“I’ve had that map a long time,” Morque continued, “And always thought about going to Vallahan, to see if I could fit in with the Knabi. When you showed up and took it, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. A little after you’d left I decided to follow
you. Lucky for you that I did.
” he added confidently, taking another large bite of lamb.
Maajin the mage ate his food quickly, almost impatiently, and didn’t seem surprised at Morque’s confession. The fire crackled noisily as the silence stretched on. Aya felt confused. Gently she placed her free hand on her stomach. Right now, a baby just like Morque was growing inside her. Would it be bitter at never truly belonging to one race? Worse still, what would Villid think? The food turned sour in her mouth as she imagined Villid’s reaction if she told him – when she told him. This was not a secret she could hide forever.

The roadside was still too narrow to ride horses through, but Maajin promised an opening in the pathway just a few miles ahead.
It was an odd group; Maajin the mage led the way, pulling along his horse and leaning on his staff at each step. Navin followed, glancing around at the large cliffs now and then with a worried expression on his face. “I feel like
the Darkma could be watching us.” he said.
“If they attack us, we’ll know,” Morque grunted. “But they don’t like daylight.”
“They don’t?” Aya asked in surprise.
“I’ve watched them these past few weeks,” Morque said. “They seem most active when the sun goes down. During the day they will move if they have to, but they fight well at night, and run faster too. Same for the night prowlers.”
“Are the Darkma and the night prowlers related?” Villid asked. He’d had a hunch that they were, but hoped for Morque to tell him that he was being ridiculous.
“Yes, they’re related,” Morque replied, edging along between the cliffs. “The Darkma were born after a terrible curse was laid on them. Since then the curse seems to have spread to the highland wolves and other creatures. The shadowy look, the red eyes, long fangs, poisonous blood… it’s all part of it.”
Aya remembered the human bandit she had defeated in the
forest, the man who had stabbed Villid and almost killed him. At the time, Aya had been so concerned with saving Villid that she’d forgotten about it, but she remembered how the human looked before he’d drawn his last breath – reddened eyes,
long, yellowish fangs and a
face more like a beast than a man’s. Was that part of this curse too?
Behind Navin was Aya, closely followed by Villid, who led Acotas. The stallion’s breathing was steady, making Aya somehow feel calmer as they ventured along the narrow road. She somehow felt safer with both Morque and Villid behind her.
As usual, the thoughts of her pregnancy floated across her mind. The terrible secret hung on her lips day and night, but she could never choke out the secret that she and Villid were to have a baby – a child who would never be truly part of one race, a child that would be born into a world where their parents were outcasts, a world of violence and hatred and danger. These thoughts made Aya almost sick with worry, so much
so that she couldn’t stand it.
So she kept silent, whilst Villid brooded on the journey ahead of them, and their new companion. He was unsure whether he trusted Morque or not. But, like Maajin, he’d helped them, and he would simply have to put his trust into the situation.
As the sun sunk lower in the sky they came to the end of the peculiar cliff passageway that had slowed their progress for the past several hours. The road flattened out to a
rough dirt track; it was difficult to tell whether it had been created by man or formed there by itself. The cliffs were shorter here and thin trees were scattered around the clearing. The wind
was getting stronger and the temperature was dropping.
“If we hurry, we will reach that forest by nightfall,” said Maajin, pointing a thin finger towards the snow-tipped mountains where a small copse of trees stood several miles away. “We’ll make camp there.”
“I’ll keep watch in the sky.” Morque suggested, spreading his great wings with a deep, loud flapping sound. The dark grey feathers spread magnificently; they flapped twice and soon he was powerfully climbing into the sky. Aya, Villid, Maajin and Navin mounted the horses.
“The sun is setting!” Navin panicked. “The Darkma could attack any second!”
“Quiet, boy,” Maajin snapped. “You cause a big uproar like that and they’ll be upon us within the hour. Keep your head down and your mouth shut, and we’ll be safe.”
The horses seemed relieved to finally be out on the open road, and responded swiftly to their riders’ orders. Aya felt comfortable and safe on Felina; she felt herself smiling as the wind blew in her hair. Just for a moment, she finally felt free. They galloped down the mountainside; the sunset cast a warm glow on the forest not far ahead and the breeze was cold and refreshing. Villid rode just ahead of her on Acotas; his strong physique was spectacular as he
rode with confidence, eyes fixed on the road ahead. It was almost the opposite with Navin, who bounced uncomfortably behind Maajin on the white stallion.
“It’s about time you learned to fly!” Morque roared over the winds, his magnificent wings almost shadowing them as he lowered his flight. Navin said nothing, but shook his head, looking terrified. Suddenly Morque grabbed Navin by the back of his tunic and dragged him up into the air. Still galloping, Aya watched in surprise as Morque pulled Navin into the air.
“Flap, idiot!” Morque cried. Navin’s wings spread around him like an eagle’s. “I’m scared!” he yelped. “Put me down!”
“Just flap!” Morque cried, and flung Navin into the air. Navin gave a frightened scream, mid-air, his wings flapping helplessly, and he half-glided, half fell to the ground, landing clumsily on the path, rolling over and over before lying still.
Aya, Villid and Maajin ground
their horses to a halt. “What in the name of Serella do you think you are doing?” Maajin seethed, dismounting the stallion. Aya slipped off of Felina and dashed towards Navin. “Are you all right?” she asked.
“Just fine,” Navin coughed, sitting up. “Ouch! My back!”
“Fear causes Knabi to fly,” Morque shrugged. “Relax. He was ten feet up, no more than that. You’re not hurt, are you, kid?” he growled.
Navin got to his feet, shaking. “I’ll survive.” he said bravely.
“Even so, that was foolish!” Maajin snapped. “Daylight is dying and you choose to injure a companion! Speaking of which -” he glanced towards the sky. “Night is almost
upon us. Come.”
Navin limped towards the white horse and climbed onto it. “I’ll learn to fly someday.” he said determinedly, whether it was to himself or to someone in particular, nobody knew.
The pathway steered downwards until it reached the forest, where it suddenly ended. Tangled bushes and brambles grew around the woods as if to protect them from any unwanted visitors. The trees grew so close together that the spaces in between them were pitch black. Inside the trees would only mean total darkness.
“Is it safe?” Aya asked uncertainly. The horses snorted in indignation. “There doesn’t seem to be any sort of path.”
Maajin frowned. “This forest has changed since I was last here,” he said finally.
“It seems much less welcoming.
”
There did indeed seem to be a morbid feeling to the wood. Suddenly they heard a movement from the trees, and a loud shout, “Stay where you are!”
Spears and arrows appeared in the darkness; people emerged from the trees carrying weapons, pointing them directly at Aya, Villid, Maajin, Navin and Morque. On their faces were painted stripes; their robes were torn and dirty, but their weapons looked newly made from wood from the trees.
Some were young, some were old; the leader of the group held a large longbow.
“Don’t shoot,” said Maajin calmly. “We mean you no harm.”
“Quiet!” a woman shouted.
“They have a Tyran with them!” the man suddenly shouted, pointing his bow at Villid. “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now!”
“No!” Aya shouted desperately. “Please!”
The man glared at Aya for a moment, and then lowered his bow. He looked amazed. “By Talgi,” he murmured. “Aya? Is that you?”
Aya froze. Realisation dawned on her. “Is that…?” she said, “You can’t be… Rimm?”
The E
lf man smiled widely. “It
is
you, Aya!” he said delightedly.
Aya slid off her horse; the rest of the people lowered their weapons. “Rimm!” she cried, and threw her arms round his neck. “At the festival… I thought everyone had died…”
“Not everyone,” Rimm said. “We escaped. I was afraid you hadn’t made it… but, what are you doing?” he suddenly cried. “You’ve picked up strange friends, Aya. A Tyran? And who are these?” he added, gesturing to the others.
Aya turned round, feeling ecstatic. To think other
Elves had escaped the attack gave her a new wave of hope. “Villid! Everyone,” she said, “This is Rimm, from my village.
He survived the attack, too
,” she looked round at
the other faces in the wood, vaguely hoping to see someone else that she recognised – but the other faces were unfamiliar. An elderly
Elf woman emerged from the trees after Rimm. “I don’t recognise you, but I’m so glad you’re safe,” she said generously.
“Why are you with a Tyran?” said Rimm suspiciously, eyeing Villid up and down.
“He saved me,” Aya said quietly. “Many, many times. There’s so much I have to tell you…”
She glanced at the others. “It’s safe,” she said. She turned back to Rimm. “Can we rest here?” she asked.
Rimm looked at the rest of the group hesitantly. “I trust Aya,” he said to them. Slowly, one by one, the
Elves nodded, although several of them did not look pleased. Rimm gave Aya a reassuring smile. “Whoever you trust, I trust,” he said. “But I cannot speak for the others. Come quietly, and slowly. I will explain to the others what’s happening.”
“Who else escaped?” Aya asked, as they approached the thicket of trees. Villid followed cautiously, shocked that the group of what looked like bandits had turned out to be
Elves.
“Keep your guard,” Maajin hissed. “If these
Elves witnessed their family and friends being murdered, they won’t take lightly to you, Villid.”
“I know that.” Villid growled.
The horses shuffled cautiously through the trees. Aya was
a little way ahead. Villid grasped the reins of Aya’s horse and pulled it along behind him as they struggled through the branches. As they dwelled deeper into the wood, lanterns appeared in the branches, and they heard a far off murmur of voices.
“It’s fairly safe here,” Rimm said, his hand clutching Aya’s wrist as they ventured deeper. “Thirty or so of us have settled here, taking turns to keep watch. We saw you coming down the mountainside, couldn’t tell if you were humans or Knabi or Tyrans. Turns out you’re a bit of everything.”
He glanced back at Villid, who rode behind him. “You say he saved you?” Rimm asked.
“It’s complicated,” Aya said helplessly. “But I will explain.”
“You can explain later,” said Rimm generously. “For now, you can rest. You look exhausted. I’m so glad you are safe.”
They were approaching a group of E
lves nestled around a camp fire. Wooden huts had been clumsily constructed in the trees, the branches fashioned as roofs. The
Elves sat muttering to each other, passing round bowls of herbs not dissimilar to the ones Aya had cooked. They fell silent as Rimm and Aya approached, and several of them jumped to their feet as Villid, Maajin, Navin and Morque followed behind.
“Be calm, friends,” said Rimm, as some of the younger E
lves raised weapons. “One of our
Elf sisters has found us!”
Aya smiled at the group, looking for a face she knew. Eventually her eyes fell on an older man who she recognised instantly; he had taught her to throw swords. His face lit up when he saw her, and she ran to embrace him.
“It’s so good to see you all again.” Aya said, feeling her eyes fill with tears as she drew away from her old teacher.
“No need for tears now,” said Rimm. “We will look after you all as best we can, although our supplies are low ourselves.”
They settled under one of the huts, near the campfire. The
Elves shot nervous glances at Villid and Morque. “Here,” said an older man, handing them all bowls of chopped plants. They ate hungrily, feeling the Elves’ eyes on them.
Aya explained everything to the Elves. She told them of her and Villid’s escape, and how they had found their way to Fort Valour.
“Llyliana…” Aya hesitated. “I found her. She’s dead. I’m so sorry.”
Several of the E
lves bowed their heads. A few murmured an old
E
lvish prayer. “It’s not your fault,” said the elderly
Elf woman quietly. “What did you do?”
“I performed the burying ritual as best as I could,” said Aya. “
Then Talgi spoke to us – she sent a spirit of Llyliana down to me. We’ve been told to visit the different races of this world, and gather an army to fight the Darkma. The wars
are getting worse, and we need allies.”
“You’re not staying?” Rimm asked.
Aya looked surprised. “I can’t stay,” she said. “We’re on our way to Vallahan, the Knabi homeland, right now, to gather soldiers.”
“Well, feel free to stay here as long as you need.” smiled Rimm, although in his eyes he looked disappointed.
There were Elf children in the group; they were barefoot and dressed in old clothes that were torn and dirtied in places. They hid behind adults, nervously eyeing Villid, staring with wide eyes at Navin, biting their fingernails or hiding their faces in their parents’ laps.
“It’s time we got back to the watch,” Rimm said finally, and several of the Elves climbed the trees around them to perch on top with bows and arrows.
“It’s getting late,” grunted Morque. “Time to retire.”
“You may sleep in these huts for now,” Rimm said, gesturing towards two wooden huts behind them. “I’ll be out hunting tomorrow
at dawn, but I’ll be back later on.”
“Hunting?” said Aya curiously. “You’ve moved to meat now?”
Rimm nodded. “Of course, we still eat herbs when we can,” he said, “But supplies are running low, especially now winter is on its way. It’s mostly the children who eat the plants. Besides,” Rimm gave an ironic
half-smile. “Meat isn’t so bad.”
Morque and Navin retreated into huts, and Maajin pulled
Aya and Villid aside. “This is where I leave you,” he whispered, wrapping his dark cloak around his shoulders.
“You’re leaving?” Aya asked in surprise.
“There are things I have to take care of,” said the mage mysteriously. “Villid – it’s very important that you keep your documents close to you. Always keep them on your person. Do you understand?”
Villid stared at the young mage who frowned up and him expectantly. Did Maajin know that Acotas carried the Blood scrolls? Villid said nothing, but nodded. Maajin looked satisfied.
“Vallahan is only a few miles from here, along the path and towards the black mountain. Good luck.”
He disappeared without another word, his cloak billowing behind him and his black staff clutched in his hand.