Foster lives on Artis Island. It's an island in the middle of a very large lake. Many years ago, few artisans went there to live, and work on their art. It became a peaceful, beautiful place. Soon, more and more people went there to live. However, the island couldn't hold them all. So, people started to build docks and wharfs, and had their homes built on them. The wharfs spread, and reached the mainland. Like a spider-web, wooden bridges and docks covered the lake, and people had their houses either on them or lived in houseboats. Now there were mostly scholars and artisans there, who made their money and earned their food by their specialized trades.

This was the place that Foster had decided to retire to. He became a scholar. He only trained me because Almond asked him to.

“It's going to rain.” Foster commented as he stared up at the sky. I nodded. Nodding was my reaction and response to anything that Foster tried to say to me during the day, and he tried to say a lot. Little one sided conversations faded off into nothing, and after a while, Foster simply fell asleep on the rider's seat of the caravan.

Honestly. I'm the one who did all the work the other day, and I'm the one sick from wine. You think he would offer to let me just ride in the caravan while he drove. Oh, but no, no, he falls asleep, and I drive the horses.

However, I admit that I dozed off. I awoke fully when the two horses suddenly came to a stop. I was jarred out of my nice doze, and looked around to see what stopped us.

In front of us, in the middle of the road was a man. I almost thought he was dead, but there was the rhythmic tide of his breathing that told me otherwise right away. His body was sprawled across the road, covered in ratty, torn cloaks.

I sat on the caravan, yawning and staring at the lump before me, wishing it would simply disappear. after deciding that it would indeed not disappear, I decided I might actually have to do something about him.

“Oi! Off the road!” I called. The lump seemed to move a little, but made no motion to get off the road.

I glanced over at Foster. He was still sound asleep.

I jumped down from the caravan and walked over to the lump. I would try to wake him up, but if I couldn't, I could at least pull his body over to the roadside, even if that meant waking Foster to help me.

As I neared the lump on the ground, I heard a noise behind me, an unknown, dull “Whump, Whump Whump.” In my ears, and then an audible yelp from Foster.

I turned quickly, and had just enough time to see a halfbreed, in this case half bird, perhaps hawk, and half man, grab at Foster's head with a large, powerful talons. I saw something flicker in the corner of my eye. I turned again, and saw the lump, which wasn't a lump, but turned out to be one of the guards from yesterday. He had discarded most of his armor for the rags that he wore to disguise himself, and a simple eyepatch covered his blinded eye.

He unsheathed his sword, but I was faster, and this time, on the ground, rather than the flying hooves of a horse. Also, he had no armour. I slit his throat in one fluid motion. He fell to the ground after clawing for air a moment. Then I turned back to the halfling.

The halfbreed was standing on my spot on the rider's seat. Next to him sat Foster, his head in the painful grip of the halfbreed's talons. The halfbreed stood taller than me by a head at least, and large, powerful wings hovered, half-folded on his back. His hands and feet were talons as well, but his torso was human. His head was mostly human, save for the nose and lower lip, which hardened into a beak. Long locks of black hair was mixed with shiny black feathers.

“You must be Stiri.” The halfbreed said.

“You must be a halfbreed.” I snapped.

The halfbreed clicked his beak “Halfbreed, maybe... However. for your own good, address me only as Telon.”

“I prefer Bird-” I cut myself off. He squeezed Foster's head tighter in his talons. He raised one hand up to the heavens. The clouds above darkened, and thunder crashed overhead.

The rain poured down from the heavens.

Over the din, Telon spoke. “I could kill you, Assassin Stiri. Lucky for you, Kos wishes you alive for the time. As for this old man... He has only one thing I need.” He paused a moment to squeeze his talon on Foster's head. Droplets of blood poured down his chin. I took a step forward, but jolts of lightening spat at the ground, and kept me at bay.

“You stay where you are!” Telon said. He looked down at Foster. “Give it to me, and I might kill you swiftly.”

Foster looked up and caught my eye. There was a glimmer in his eyes, and a spark of a plan. He winked once. I allowed myself a brief, small smirk.

“Ok, ok, I'll give it to you...” Foster said. Telon snapped his beak once and ruffled his feathers. Foster reached into his pocket, and rummaged around a little. Then, swiftly as could be, He threw a handful of some type of powder into Tenlon's face. The halfbreed screeched and threw his face back. Before his talons could let go of Foster, I was on him, slicing all the ligaments I could imagined existed in those bird-like legs. The leg fell limp, and the inured, blinded Telon flapped his mighty wings. Foster and myself were thrown off the caravan, and onto the ground.

As Tenlon rose up in the air, he gave a terrible cry, and lifted both his hands up.

“Get under the caravan.” Foster said. We rolled quickly underneath, just as Telon let loose a shower of lightening to the ground, to where he thought we were, where he assumed we would run.

After a few moments of blinding light, the land returned to normal, and all that was left was the pounding of the rain on the ground. I heard through that pounding one of my horses, whining.

“Dawn.” I said, recognizing the sounds. “Dawn is hurt.” I climbed out from under the caravan to see what kind of horrible injury was done to my poor horse.

Dawn lay on the ground, a gash in her side, her white mane singed with blackness. Next to her was a blackened mass of charred flesh that used to be Dusk.

The damned halfbreed killed my horse.