The place was vast and vibrant but empty and private at the same time. It was a strange combination that one could rarely encounter in reality, but that was not a reality and not a dream either. This place undoubtedly had a name, but there was no one here to tell it to a lone wanderer.

Hollow darkness echoed with each step, and hosts of visions flew past Belrigan. The visions were born from the void together with sound. Actually, this place had no real difference between sound and vision. But it was the motion that intrigued the most. The first time Belrigan found himself here, he tried to walk as far as he could to traverse and examine this kingdom of living emptiness. The further he walked, the more and more visions lightened the darkness; some were strange and illogical, some were familiar, and some were so sweet and appealing as if they were coming from the depth of his heart. Carried away by them, Belrigan rushed forward, pursuing the one he needed the most, but instead found himself overwhelmed by phantoms. The faster he ran, the more of them appeared. The more he tried to get through, the more they tired him. Eventually, everything turned into a dread nightmare.

No road led to this place, but Belrigan visited it often. It took him a few years of practice to understand how to get here. It was open only in the morning, right after awakening from sleep. And the main rule he learned was that one should never be in a hurry while visiting the void.

Belrigan stood still. He did not move, examining strange visions flying past him. What will this place show me today? He stood still for quite a long, and something indeed showed up: “Belrigan!” Came a distant voice. “Belrigan!”

That voice was very familiar as if he had heard it long ago.

“Help me, Belrigan!”

Help? If someone dwelled in such a place, he needed help for sure.

The voice was calling his name, and—with no doubt—belonged to a person whom Belrigan knew once upon a time. Belrigan stepped forward to find the source of the sound. The void stepped towards him in return, and a few bright phantoms entwined Belrigan as he expected.

“Help me! Help me fetch the water!”

Water, what water?

Belrigan opened his eyes, as someone started shaking him vigorously. It took only a few seconds to return to reality and see that it was Lauro, and he was shaking him with such intensity as if he wanted Belrgan to fall from the loft right into the stall with horses. But, of course, that was precisely what he was trying to achieve—Belrigan was already leaning down.

“Please stop, brother! I’m not sleeping!” Belrigan yelled.

“Now you are not…” mumbled Lauro. “Belrigan, help me with the maybeer! Do you remember what day it is today? It’s the start of New Year’s week! The sun is up, and brothers will soon gather for the morning prayer. We need the maybeer to be ready!”

Belrigan bestirred himself. He took his clothes lying next to him, moved away from Lauro, and sat on the loft’s edge with his legs hanging down. Of course, as the day had already begun, he should be up also, but it was not his turn for the kitchen duty today.

“Shouldn’t it be brother Antonio preparing the maybeer with you?” Belrigan asked.

“Brother Antonio?” Lauro was confused. “Brother Antonio can’t do it today.”

“What’s his problem?”

Belrigan had an oval, slightly pointed face, green eyes, and short dark-brown hair that looked orderly and clean, considering that he was sleeping in a loft above the stables. Only tanned skin and uneven, sparse hair that grew on his chin (no one would dare to call a beard) hinted that he had spent last month or so on a journey and did not always have time for himself. Judging by his well-built figure and good look, a stranger could wrongly guess that he was a merchant servant or even an apprentice of a traveling craftsman (not a farmer, definitely!). However, that would be far from true. Belrigan and Lauro were members of the Black Brotherhood, a small hilistian order worshiping the five deities of the old days. The Black Brotherhood was neither prominent nor influential in the western kingdoms and hardly known here, in the lands of the steppe clans, many miles away from its homeland.

Lauro was two years younger than Belrigan with lively and trickery eyes. These eyes were constantly moving as if he was searching for something—such a look would match a town thief and not a member of the holy order, and brother Lauro indeed grew up in the streets before he was taken to the Black Brothers. His blond hair was very unruly and thus always cut short.

Both young men were dressed almost identically: they had undershirts of white flax, dark-gray pants, and warm woolen shirts that were dark gray also. Woolen shirts were made to be practical and convenient during travel and were just of enough length to cover the knees and had a hidden cut in the middle for riding a horse.

“Brother Antonio has a real problem,” said Lauro with a low voice while Belrigan was clothing himself. “He is now with brother Masho. Master’s trying to help him.”

“What’s happened?”

“A tail trouble.”

“Tail trouble? What the heck?”

Belrigan jumped down, landing away from the stall. Brother Antonio followed him using the ladder attached from the side.

“That’s serious, brother Belrigan, I’m telling you,” Lauro flinched. “I saw him, and believe me, it looks like he won’t return to a normal state soon.”

Belrigan gave Lauro a suspicious look but said nothing more.

Black brothers arrived in Grass Reach just a week before the party led by Spring Thunder set their camp next to the Chipped Mountain. Monks stayed further to the north of the mountain, in the town of Tar-Fanesh, a small yet lively place that during years of peace served as a local trading hub, but during any conflict was the first target for raiders. The Brothers spent many days traveling here from the Zidron mountains, and since it was a journey through the winter, all of them enjoyed their rest. A small inn that housed them was run by teheni of the Mockinbird clan and was given at complete disposal of the Black Brothers, with no other guests staying here at the same time.

The inn was not a notable place, quite the opposite. It stood far from the main road on the outskirts of Tar-Fanesh, and that was its main advantage — the seclusion. It would be very convenient if the inn had a water pipe, but there was none. Fortunately, the well was not so far, and Belrigan and Lauro quickly fetched enough water for the maybeer and the whole day.

Making maybeer was not challenging, but one shall have the talent to make it perfect. Brother Lauro was good at it and could turn an average village brew into an ideal drink for the morning prayer. They squashed tart berries with spices and mixed them in boiling water. Then, while the mixture was cooling down, brother Lauro opened a jug of local beer and tried it.

“We will need more pepper, brother Belrigan, much more!” He made a wry face.

Almost all brothers had already gathered in the small dining room when Belrigan and Lauro brought the maybeer. Everyone was sitting around one table with the brother Viraz at its head. Viraz was the oldest in their company and also their leader. His mighty belly could accommodate plenty of maybeer, of which he was a big fan. His face had strange muddy color, while rare flocks of hair on his head resembled weak grass that grows stunned on marshy and soaking land. However, his eyes were not filled with foggy haze as one could expect from his appearance. Instead, they were as black and clear as the water in the ocean’s depths. There was something abyssal in that eyes—that’s why Belrigan preferred not to look into them too often.

After serving everyone, Belrigan and Lauro took their places at the far end of the table. Brother Masho appeared last and took place next to his students. Viraz crossed his hands in a symbol of the undying candle and started the prayer:

“Brothers, we meet the new year far away from home, traveling on an important mission, yet in any circumstances shall we not forget about our Divine Lords. Let’s say the words of gratitude to the King of the Sun and the Queen of the Sea, to the…”

“… to the King of the Sun and the Queen of the Sea…” repeated Belrigan with others.

When the long prayer was finished, Viraz concluded:

“Our souls are pure and ready to venture forth in the name of Five. Nothing would help us start a day like a mug of good maybeer! So, brothers, let’s have a drink and discuss our business, as we have a lot of things to do!”

A mumbling and knocking filled the room for a short.

“First of all,” said brother Viraz after emptying his mug, and deep concern was heard in his voice, “what is with brother Antonio? Is he well? Brother Masho, please enlighten us.”

One mug was never enough, so Lauro took the jug and walked to the head of the table to refill it for Viraz.

“He is well,” Masho cleared his throat.

Masho was tall and slenderly built. Though he was not as old as brother Viraz, his hair had already turned gray. His wrinkled face was decorated with a long, pointy nose, and two gray eyes were sitting on both sides.

“Did he manage to overcome his problem?”

“Not yet.”

“I want to see how serious it is. Please call him out.”

“Brother Lauro, could you please ask brother Antonio to come?”

As brother Lauro was the youngest of the lot, such jobs were his to handle. While he was not asked to, Belrigan came with him. Rooms where the elder brothers slept, were just wooden cubicles separating the hall on the first floor right above the dining room. They stopped before the very last door. A determined prayer was heard coming out.

Brother Lauro knocked on. “Brother Antonio, come! Brother Viraz wants to see you!”

Prayer stopped, and a few moments went in silence. Much more time actually than one needs to cross such a small room.

Finally, the door opened, and the freckled face of brother Antonio stuck out:

“Do I have to come, brother Lauro?” he asked with hope.

“Of cause, you have to! It’s brother Viraz asking, don’t you hear?!”

Meanwhile, discussion in the dining room did not progress as everyone seemed to be waiting for them. Brother Antonio refused to sit, and he had a reason for that. He was in the long robes, and as he was standing still, the cloth was curling and crinkling unnaturally behind his back, and the pointy end of a green tail was sticking out of its bottom. Brother Antonio tried to hide it, but it went wrong when a wave moved under the cloth, clearly showing that the tail was long.

The room fell silent.

“My Lords,” brother Viraz looked shocked. “This is something.”

“Forgive me, brothers!” Antonio felt on his knees. “I will train hard to restrain the energy!”

“He is one of my best apprentices,” nodded brother Masho. “He will manage until tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Viraz sighed. “If you say so, brother Masho. However…” He gave everyone in the room a grim gaze. “You should all understand that this is a major thing. If someone in the town sees brother Antonio, it will be impossible to explain his condition, and rumors will sprout quickly. Moreover, such an incident may undermine our mission, and we need to handle it with all determination.”

The brothers kept silent. It was pretty obvious what Viraz just said. However, everyone was intrigued about the degree of determination that he would resort to counter a problem.

“If you, brother Antonio, don’t manage to remove this… thing until tomorrow, I will help you,” promised Viraz.

Despite this sounding encouraging, brother Antonio went all white and started shaking. He bent his back vigorously and mumbled: “Please forgive me, brothers, please forgive me.”

“He will manage,” ensured Masho. “Brother Antonio had been grafted five years ago and mastered his new energy. There must be a reason behind this outbreak, brother Antonio, am I right?

“Yes, master, must be, but I don’t know for sure. Forgive me…”

“Do not leave the room today. Take no meals,” concluded Viraz. “Restrain the energy with much effort, and tomorrow we will see if an intervention is required.”

“Yes, brothers, I will do my best!”

“You’d better do indeed.” Viraz nodded, and then his deep eyes suddenly looked at Belrigan. “I know, brother Masho, your students are well taught, but this is a special time and mission where we don’t want a failure.”

Masho also looked at Belrigan as if he wanted to emphasize that this was said only for him. Belrigan expected lecturing to continue, but instead, his master said:

“We shall all learn from brother Belrigan, as he controls something we can not even deem to cope with.”

Now, everyone looked at Belrigan: some jealously, some with hidden fear, and some, brother Viraz, for instance, with interest. Belrigan put his eyes down. He felt that the last remark from brother Masho was unnecessary.

Why has the master brought this up? Does he doubt my abilities, or is there another reason? Maybe he wants me to do something?

“You can return to my room, brother Antonio.”

Antonio looked scared to death as he hurried out.

“I will escort him!” quickly volunteered Belrigan.

The wooden floor was squeaky, and the air smelled of cheap oils used for lighting. When they stopped at the master’s room, Belrigan followed Antonio in and closed the door so no one could hear them.

“Do you want something, brother Belrigan?” Antonio asked, surprised.

“Yes. Listen,” Belrigan started with a low voice, “that thing of yours is no big deal. You don’t need to restrain it, as brother Viraz says. Instead, you…”

“No-no-no…” Antonio quickly covered his ears with his palms. “I don’t want to listen, brother Belrigan. Brothers Viraz and Masho know better than you what I ought to do in such a situation. Besides, your graft is very different. If you be so kind, I need to practice alone.”

Belrigan said no more. He frowned and, after a short hesitation, opened the door. Already exiting, he looked at Antonio again and, he could swear, the little devil was smiling! Why? However, that was just for a second; then, a grim and appropriately guilty expression took its place on his face again.

In the dining room, the brothers were already discussing their mission.

“… and so, brother Silvius, brother Andory, you will continue questioning locals regarding the creatures. You can spend some coins, but be discreet, use copper only; we don’t want someone to think that this matter is too important,” Viraz said.

“How is Antonio?” asked Lauro when Belrigan sat next to him.

“He won’t die,” wryly replied Belrigan.

“Coins can't always make people speak the truth,” said Silvius thoughtfully. “Could we try other ways as well?”

“Yes…” slight hesitation was hardly noticeable in the voice of Viraz. “Just make sure that no one sees you.”

“It won’t be much of a problem. These lands are wild, you know.”

“What about the bird?” intervened Masho. “We have to find someone who can guide us to it.”

“Thank you, brother Masho” Viraz nodded. “We indeed need to discuss it. Yesterday evening I examined the signs in the clouds, and they looked not good at all.”

“What do you mean?”

“The clouds clearly show that someone in the Grass Reach is here for the same reason as we. It is no secret that the phoenix is at his weakest during the early spring and thus is easiest to capture.”

“Someone else came here for the phoenix?”

“But who?”

Several brothers spoke at once, and chaos ruled the table for a short period until brother Viraz stopped it authoritatively.

“Brothers, please, save your breath. We must act, not tattle. Today we shall send a small group—three of us no more—to the bird’s nest.”

“Trying to catch a bird right now, when teheni from the Crimson Alder hold their Ascension ritual—won’t it be too risky?” asked Masho. ”As you always say, brother Viraz, we should keep a low profile.”

“Not in this case,” Viraz shook his head. “We must act or lose the opportunity. And we don’t want to give up the phoenix to someone else, believe me. The only question is, who of us would be the best person for this task?”

After a short pause and exchange of looks, brother Masho suggested:

“I could go.”

“My dear Masho, this is impossible. I need you to help with brother Antonio, and in case someone else of your students develops a peculiarity. I think brother Petto will manage much better than any of us.”

“With pleasure, brothers,” Petto nodded.

“And who else?”

“I can go,” brother Gerome suggested.

“Everyone agrees?”

There were no objections.

“Then we have Petto and Gerome — a good duet. Their only problem is their age. Remember that you will need to climb up at night,” Viras looked at Gerome. “You will need help from someone young… and fresh. Brother Antonio would be the best person to assist you, but he is incapable now… who else? Brother Lauro has the same graft as Antonio, am I right, brother Masho?”

“Absolutely.”

With a single look at Lauro’s pale face, Belrigan could see that his friend would immediately grow a tail rather than become the right person to catch the phoenix.

“I can go!” Belrigan raised his hand. “My vision at night is much better than the vision of brother Lauro.”

“What do you say, brother?” Viraz looked at Masho. “Your students — your decision.”

“Brother Belrigan will manage better. His night vision is perfect, and perception and intuition are almost as good as brother Antonio has.”

“Thanks!” whispered brother Lauro with relief in his voice.

“Then it’s settled,” concluded Viraz. “In the name of our Lords, you will head out at noon, brothers.”