I. The Dear Hunter

“You’re not going to make it.” Vance sang.

Zuri grumbled and muttered something under his breath. The golden eyed youth adjusted his sights and cradled the crossbow in the crook of his arm. Vance chuckled and shook his head, much to Zuri’s chagrin. He leaned in and attempted to look down the iron sights over Zuri’s shoulder. Zuri swore and shoved Vance back with his elbow. The lone elk grazing in the empty field briefly glanced up, before returning to its meal of yellowed grass under grey, solemn skies. It was old and likely fell behind from the rest of its herd, it should have been easy pickings, but Zuri was a lousy shot.

Vance clasped his fraying collar with his hand against a stiff, frigid breeze. He shivered and swept unkempt golden locks from his face. Zuri cast him a sidelong glance and muttered something under his breath. Vance had nothing beside the blue and white surcoat and armor of a Knight of The Order, unlike Zuri, sensibly dressed in knit cap and scarf. Vance shivered again and turned back to the Elk, a cautious optimism welling up in his breast.

“Remember your breathing.”

“I am breathing.” Zuri snapped.

Vance gently lowered the bow to get his attention, and mimed the breathing techniques for the umpteenth time. Zuri snatched the bow free and took aim again, surreptitiously mirroring Vance’s breathing technique. Vance chuckled to himself and returned his attention to the elk, it would be good to have meat again, though he doubted the boy was up to it. He picked up a couple strands of yellowed grass and dropped them before the boy’s face; they fell to the left of his bow.

“Hmm? See that?” Vance picked another handful of grass and dropped them into the wind. “Are you compensating?”

“I would if you’d shut the hell up.” He retorted.

“Oh, really now?” Vance laughed as he tugged at the young man’s ear. “I suppose I’ll just have to tell Leila about this potty mouth you’ve got.”

Zuri remained silent as he adjusted his aim. The elk took a couple of meandering steps into the wind, but remained blissfully unaware of their presence. Vance sighed loudly, hoping the boy would get the hint and take the shot. As if to spite him, Zuri waited several moments more before squeezing the trigger and letting the bolt fly. It took all of Vance’s will to keep from laughing aloud as the bolt harmlessly struck the dirt beside the elk. Zuri muttered a string of curses while he reloaded. Their quarry was spooked, though it stood motionlessly as it tried to discern what and where the threat was. They certainly would not get another shot at this.

Vance gestured for the crossbow. “Here, give it to me.”

Zuri shot Vance the evil eye as he beckoned for the crossbow.

“Do you want to eat tonight or not?” Vance demanded.

Reluctantly, Zuri thrust the weapon into his hands and went back to sulking. Vance got into position and took aim. The Elk had begun to walk away, possibly to catch up with a herd that had long since forgotten about it. He led the beast with the bow, took a breath and fired. The startled beast let out a pained yelp and took off. It made it three steps before it tumbled head over hooves and collapsed, dead. He flashed Zuri a toothy grin and returned his crossbow to him.

“Are you proud of yourself?” Zuri asked as he snatched back the crossbow. “A trained soldier just beat a kid in marksmanship.”

Vance smirked. “At twenty you’re no more kid than I am.”

Vance stood and stretched grandly. He tousled his mess of blonde hair, shedding dirt and grass, Leila would likely make him take a freezing cold bath when they got back. The air was chill and the sun offered little warmth despite clear skies. Vance was well aware that the weather in this light forsaken part of the continent was a fickle mistress at best, and did not look forward to spending a winter here.

Zuri slung his crossbow over his shoulder and raced down the knoll to bag their prey before the Dusk spawn arrived. He leisurely scanned the field as he followed him. Aside from some gnarly looking beasts, there had not been any aggressive or man-eating Dusk spawn in the area since they arrived. There had not been much of anything in the area for that matter.

“How are we going to get this home?” Zuri asked as he looked down at the steaming carcass.

He still found it odd how Leila and her brother referred to their wagon as ‘home’, but had slowly gotten acclimated to their ways. Despite his bluster, Zuri was a good kid with a sharp mind, though his sister was the obvious brains in their operation. Vance was certain that she would have considered the implications of dragging a five-hundred-pound carcass six miles through the wilderness before killing the thing.

Vance frowned and scratched his beard. “That’s a good question…”

Zuri rolled his eyes and drew his knife. “Do we butcher it here and carry it back piecemeal?”

“Hmm.” Vance prodded the carcass with his boot, despite its age, the elk was solid, a good kill. “No, that’ll attract predators and scavengers. We may have to take the choice cuts and leave the rest.”

Zuri cast his golden eyes down and picked at his mess of tightly curled locks. He could think all he wanted, there was simply no way the two of them were carrying that elk by themselves. Vance folded his hands on top of his head and kicked at the turf with his boot. He could probably make a sack out of his surcoat if need be, though it was essentially his last link to The Order, something he was not quite ready to abandon just yet.

“What about that horse you’ve been feeding?”

Vance glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Who? Peanut?”

Zuri rolled his eyes. “Yes, ‘Peanut’. You could run back and hitch him to a cart; I’ll stay here and guard the kill.”

“I’m not leaving you out here alone; Leila would serve my bits on a platter.”

Zuri laughed aloud. “Fine, then I will go.”

Vance emphatically shook his head. “Same difference, you aren’t going anywhere alone.”

Zuri pointed to the carcass with his dagger. “And this?”

Vance stroked his curly beard as he attempted to think of a solution that did not involve them dragging the beast away or leaving a significant portion of it behind. After several moments, he conceded that he could not. He shrugged and was about to suggest they cut their losses and take what they could carry when a familiar sight caught his eye.

“What?” Zuri asked as he turned and shielded his eyes with his hand.

Nearly a dozen or more men on horseback were barreling down upon them at a full gallop. Vance ushered Zuri behind him and put his hand on his sword. Their horses were piebald and their armor was not black, so he was able to rule out Xanaviens, and bandits usually did not ride in formation as they did. The lead rider gestured to his men and they broke off to surround the pair. They wore gleaming armor in silver and green, their capes billowing grandly in the cold, stiff gales. The colors and crests of Aes Sidhe marked them as friends, though Vance was uncertain if they would see him as such. He removed his hand from his sword and slowly raised them to chest level. They were far too small for an expeditionary force, and quite a long way from their home. The leader barked something to him in his native tongue; Aes Sidhean was not a language Vance had bothered to pick up.

“I am sorry Sir,” Vance dipped his head, not breaking eye contact with the leader, “but I do not comprehend your tongue.”

“I asked your name and reason for being in these lands Brother Knight.” The knight repeated in Elysian, slightly miffed.

He was young, though he simply could have been of the fey, in which case there was no real way of telling how old he was. He had an air of self-importance about him, either he was a man of some renown or spent time exclusively in the company of those who were. He was clean shaven and his limp brown hair was freshly trimmed. Whomever they were, they had not been stuck in the wilderness for long.

“Sir Vance Jung,” Vance placed a hand to his chest and slowly stepped forward, making sure to keep Zuri at his back. “I was guard to High Priestess Renata enroute to Catharone, but the Xanaviens captured her at Therion. I was left to die in a small fishing vessel, and by the Eloi’s grace, I landed upon these shores.”

“You are Duvachellian!” one of the men besides the leader spat into the turf, his eyes cocksure and wary at once. “How could you make it across the sea without succumbing to the curse?”

Vance held out his open hands. “I do not know sir, perhaps the gods favored me?”

The knight waved him off and muttered something in Aes Sidhean, which elicited a chuckle from some of the others. They were an eclectic bunch of hardened warriors, though their manner of dress and waxed moustaches was a noble styling. Everything about the group was strange, their horses and armor, their dress and bearing, they were no simple warriors. These men appeared to come from some noble house, either as sons or servants to a great lord. Making their presence in the wilds of Sorn all the more mystifying.

“I have been forthcoming with you sir,” Vance said firmly, “now if you would be so kind as to answer some of my questions?”

Their leader gestured to Zuri. “And him? What is his name and from whence does he hail?”

Vance had nearly forgotten about Zuri, who had thankfully remained silent throughout the ordeal. He was likely curious as to the boy’s dark complexion and golden eyes, and Vance could not risk telling these knights the truth. He recalled his own reaction when he had found out, and he had travelled with them for several weeks by then.

“Zuri Nerezza, he’s… Eurithanian.”

The knight nodded, apparently satisfied. “I am Rémann Coventide, squire to king Céolsige of Aes Sidhe, and these men are part of the King’s guard.”

Vance nodded to the men, who mostly seemed indifferent. The reveal only served to leave him with more questions. Why were the king’s guard and his squire so far from their king?

“You said you were guard to the Priestess did you not?” Rémann asked.

“Yes…”

“Did you travel with Aichlan, Son of Garrick?”

The name was familiar, but Vance just could not place it to a face. “Who?”

Rémann huffed impatiently. “Is he not the commander of The Knights of The Order?”

“You mean the Grandmaster? I am sorry to inform you that he was at Arlien when it fell, he is presumed dead.”

“We have it on good authority that he lives.” Rémann said dismissively as he pulled something from his pocket. “Here.”

He tossed Vance a flat, smooth crystal with an alien script scratched onto the side. He recognized it as a memory stone, albeit a small one. Vance placed the stone to his temple and closed his eyes. The image of a young noblewoman with curly blonde hair appeared in his mind’s eye. She slowly turned to face him with electric green eyes and covered her mouth as she laughed at an unheard joke. The image shimmered and the short scene replayed itself. Their presence in the wilderness suddenly made more sense, though he had many more questions as to who the woman was and how she wound up lost in Sorn. Vance opened his eyes and tossed the stone back to Rémann.

“Have you seen or heard anything about this woman?” Rémann demanded.

Vance shook his head. “No, who is she?”

Rémann pocketed the stone. “The king’s cousin. It is believed that she is under the care of Lord Aichlan, we are under orders to see them safely returned home.”

Rémann gestured for his men to form up once more.

“But how is the Grandmaster still alive?” Vance asked, positioning himself in their path. “Arlien was a complete rout.”

“I don’t have an answer for you, but given who his father was, it is no surprise he found a way.” Rémann urged his horse along, eager to be underway again. “If you should encounter this woman, inform her that her cousin has sent a search party, and please escort her to us. We shall be continuing our search in Marquez; you of course will be compensated.”

“Wait! I am enroute to Marquez as well! I have much to report! You must take me with you,” Vance reached up and grabbed the knight by the cloak, “I beg of you.”

Rémann looked down upon the dirty and ragged Vance with a hint of disdain. “While your devotion to duty is admirable, we too are duty bound, and can’t very well slow our pace to accommodate a single man on foot.”

His shoulders sagged as he hung his head, if he were in their position he would have made the same decision. Rémann rallied his men and took off north at an easy trot. Vance halfheartedly made the sign of the Dawn and mumbled a blessing to their journey before turning back to the elk conundrum.

“You big dummy,” Zuri said with a smirk. “What about Peanut?”

“Oh hell, Peanut!”

Vance took off after the knights, frantically waving his hands over his head, shouting for them to wait.