“I will return as soon as I possibly can. Don’t do anything too foolish while I’m away,” Tedric said to his men.
They all laughed, and Tedric gave one last glance at Bordin, who nodded in confirmation and gave him a wink. Tedric nodded back and turned on his heel, heading toward the large arched gates that would lead to the main street and take him to the stables. Bordin was a good man, and one of the only people he could truly call a friend. Brisk dawn air blew across his face and ruffled his shortly cropped hair as he stepped out onto the deserted cobbled street. Fall had finally come to Raymara. It was Tedric’s favorite season of all, spring and winter too cold or windy for his taste, and summer too hot.
The transition from fall to winter was one of the most spiritual times of year in Raymara, as the moon would turn blood red on the winter equinox. In Proveria, the event had been turned into a festival named Clamidas, or the blood festival. Legend had it that the blood moon birthed all fairies, and that Noctiluca, goddess of the moon, was their mother, though Tedric didn’t know how much he truly believed in that tale.
Tedric breathed in the smell of baked bread and cinnamon, the telltale sign that Crimson City was slowly beginning to stir. Early morning vendors were setting up stands full of fresh apples and vegetables, and guards were taking over their watch positions by street corners and on rooftops. It was a peaceful city, and a smile came to Tedric’s lips as pride for his kingdom filled his chest.
Tedric rounded a corner and headed toward the great stone building that held Keadora’s best horses. Tedric had worked in those stables when he was a young boy, right before Bordin had found him and convinced Eldron, the late commander, to take him in to train with the Ten. Tedric had enjoyed working in the stables, the smell of fresh straw and horses always comforted him when only a drunk father for company had become too much to bare.
Tedric forced away the returning image of his dream and entered the stables. He stopped and blinked in surprise at the sight of Lorian’s thin figure already standing in the dimly lit barn. The thief was clean now and already appeared healthier, his thick black hair curling just above his shoulders. Tedric snorted, having thought the thief’s hair was brown from the copious amounts of dirt and grime that had encrusted it since the day he’d arrested him in the Red King’s throne room.
Lorian wore a similar garb as Tedric, though his tunic was navy blue and the thick cloak covering his shoulders was as black as the night sky. Lorian gently stroked the muzzle of Dario, Tedric’s grey stallion, which he had won in a sword tournament a few years ago. Dario rested his head upon the stall door, eyes closed as he relished in Lorian’s calming strokes.
“I see you’ve met my horse,” Tedric commented, a grin growing on his face as Lorian jumped and turned to face him.
The stallion bopped his head up with a start and snorted, disappearing back into the dimly lit stall.
“How did you know your way to the stables?” Tedric asked curiously, making his way down the long dark stone aisle toward Lorian.
Lorian shrugged. “I know how to find even the most hidden things.”
“You have a point.” Tedric nodded.
“I have to thank you for what you—” Lorian stopped mid-sentence, face paling as his eyes slid to something at the barn entrance.
Tedric turned to see what Lorian was so petrified of, and spotted the cloaked outline of the third and final member of their mission. Tedric’s stomach leaped into his throat when he spotted the catlike creature slinking by the young witch’s side, a mogwa, as they were called. Mogwas were native to Naebatis, one of the cursed kingdoms. It was the coldest kingdom of all, all thanks to the curse that the Red King set upon Naebatis, forcing the lands into a permanent winter. Mogwas were incredibly rare, and Tedric wondered how the woman had come across the beast.
The mogwa was larger than he imagined they would be, its back brushing against the woman’s hip. Long silky grey fur speckled with white coated the creature, and its heart-shaped pink nose and knowing amber eyes were nearly identical to those of a house cat, if in fact a house cat had somehow grown to be the size of a pony and sprouted three extra toes in the process.
“Good morning, Finriel Caligari,” Tedric greeted in a smooth voice, nodding his head toward the girl as she approached.
Her black tunic fit becomingly against her curvy yet strong frame, along with a sturdy pair of black pants that were covered to the knee by long black boots. Her hair was braided over one shoulder, and the handle of a dagger was just visible at her side, partially covered by the thick black cloak that brushed against the ground. She gave Tedric a sidelong glare and rolled her eyes. Her gaze then fell upon Lorian, and Tedric felt the strain in the air between them.
“Good morning,” Lorian muttered sheepishly, his eyes darting to the ground before he forced his gaze back to meet her furious stare.
Tedric cleared his throat and stepped between the thief and the witch. “We should get a move on.”
Finriel jerked her attention back to Tedric and nodded, withdrawing a rolled up piece of parchment from the folds of her cloak.
“I was given the enchanted map that we’re meant to use to find the creatures and the storyteller. I was given a note that said the map could transport us to a specific location, but we can only use it once.”
Tedric nodded, but then a terrible realization crossed his mind and he cursed under his breath. “I don’t have the pages meant to capture the beasts.”
Lorian glanced at Tedric and raised his hand. “I have them.”
“Good,” Finriel replied sharply, not looking at either of them. “The note also said that we must touch our hands onto the map and it will transport us to the beast nearest to us. If it is in a separate kingdom from this one, we will be transported about a day’s walk away from the next kingdom so that we have time to plan and decide how we get in.”
“That sounds simple enough,” Tedric replied confidently. “Where is the nearest beast?”
Finriel shrugged and quickly unrolled the map to hold it out for both Lorian and Tedric to see. The map was exquisitely made, the mountains of Creonid, the gnome kingdom, drawn so realistically that they looked like a black and white image copied directly onto the parchment. The rivers, trees, plains, snow, and deserts all looked so real.
Almost too real, Tedric thought. He searched the map for a sign or marker indicating where the first creature was located, and his stomach dropped with a mix of adrenaline and fear. It did not say what the beast was, but a circular red smudge was located in the center of Millris Forest, the largest forest within Proveria.
“We have to go to the beast without knowing what it is. That’s just wonderful,” Lorian grumbled.
“And it has to be in Proveria of all kingdoms,” Tedric replied with a surge of hatred for the fairies. He had never trusted them, and the countless meetings and gatherings Tedric had attended with the pompous creatures were always stuffy and exhausting.
“I don’t understand how fairies are so terrible,” Finriel said tartly.
Lorian raised his brows at the witch and the corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Oh, you will, trust me.”
Finriel’s lips tightened and she opened her mouth, blurting, “Well, as you said, we should get a move on.”
Without a second glance at either Tedric or Lorian, Finriel placed a hand on the intricate map. When neither Lorian nor Tedric placed a hand on the page, she rolled her eyes and growled, “Oh, please.”
Tedric puffed his chest out slightly and placed his hand on the map, not liking the diminishing tone that Finriel had used. Lorian finally shrugged and placed his hand on the map. As if someone had turned on an invisible faucet, dark fog began to spill into the barn, swirling and twisting as it formed a moving circle around the three companions. The fog began to spin faster and faster, and Tedric shut his eyes with a jolt as the fog crashed inwards from all sides and pushed the three of them together.
Tedric kept his eyes tightly shut, a sick feeling be
ginning to rise in his throat, the sensation in his body something like being crushed by an unbearable weight. The ground seemed to disappear below them, and Tedric yelled as he plummeted into the darkness, his stomach lurching into his throat. Something hard collided with his backside and his legs smashed against hard ground with a jolt of pain. The smell of fresh air and rich soil drifted through his nose, and he realized that he had just teleported. He blinked his eyes open and cursed at the mild pain that shot through his legs, then looked around to find his companions also cursing and wiping dead grass and dirt from their cloaks a few paces away. Finriel’s mogwa was perched upon a fallen log a few feet away from her master, her amber eyes scrutinizing the three of them.
Tedric struggled to his feet and forced his legs to stay upright though they wobbled and threatened to give out. He had never teleported in his twenty-two years of life, and he found that he never wanted to do it again.
“Where are we?” Finriel asked as she, too, got shakily up to her feet and looked around.
Her long braid swayed against her back and now had clumps of dirt and grass clinging to it. She surveyed their surroundings with a scrutinizing expression, and Tedric quickly looked away. He found her incredibly unnerving, and by the way that Lorian watched her with wariness in his eyes, Tedric was sure that the thief felt the same way.
“We’re at the edge of the night watch post,” Tedric answered promptly as he surveyed their surroundings. “It’s about a day’s march east to get to the Proverian border.”
Rolling hills scattered with trees expanded across the horizon, and Tedric squinted against the rising sun to find the small speck of Crimson City in the distance. The white marble of the castle glinted in the sun and Tedric was surprised to find that they hadn’t traveled that far after all.
“Well, let’s get going then,” Finriel replied curtly, and turned on her heel in the direction Tedric pointed.
Tedric’s stomach began to grumble after a few short minutes of walking through the tall grasses and open meadows of Keadora. The sun had now risen fully, setting the browning flower-dusted meadows in a soft glow. Blue birds chirped and flew overhead, and the mogwa’s ears twitched with attention as a large dusty brown hare bounded across their path.
“I’m starving,” Lorian said finally, voicing Tedric’s exact thoughts. “Which one of us got the food?”
Tedric looked to Finriel, who shook her head. Lorian would not have asked if he had been given their meal supply. He looked down at the satchel at his side and frowned. It felt much too light to contain any food, but then again, Tedric hadn’t checked what was inside of it and the bag had likely been crafted by witches.
He halted and reached down into the bag. His eyes widened in surprise when his hand immediately made contact with something large and warm. He pulled out a steaming loaf of dark bread, and Lorian lurched forward and snatched it in one swift movement, his eyes set with hunger. Tedric raised his brows and looked between the loaf of bread Lorian had ripped from his hands and the thief’s ravenous expression. Lorian met Tedric’s stare and hugged the bread closer. When Tedric didn’t move or reply, Lorian took another step toward the commander and gestured at the satchel with a nod of his head.
“Go on, see what else is in there.”
Tedric quirked his lips into a half-smile and obliged, pulling out a block of cheese near the size of his head, along with three gleaming red apples. Tedric tossed one of the apples to Finriel, who caught it with one hand and a glare.
“Is that enough food for you?” Finriel asked with an edge to her voice as she and Tedric both watched Lorian wolf down bread and large chunks of cheese that Tedric had sliced for him with the very dagger he had taken from the thief upon his arrest.
What amazed Tedric the most was how Lorian was able to walk and shove the large armful of food into his mouth without dropping a single scrap. Tedric already knew that he would be surprised many times over by the peculiar man. Lorian glanced at their amused gazes and gave a defensive look, swallowing a giant mouthful of bread before speaking.
“When either of you two get out of a dungeon after months of only having cold soup made out of discarded scraps and stale bread, then you can give me those looks. I personally think that I deserve to have a little bit of a feast. And Tedric, I know that I have impeccable taste in weaponry, but I would love it if you gave my dagger back.”
Tedric certainly knew what it was like to go hungry for days, but he kept his mouth shut, allowing the thief to savor the moment. He looked down at the thin blade at his side and considered Lorian’s statement. Perhaps it was the right thing to return the dagger, since the thief had no weapons at all.
“You probably deserved to be locked up in that dungeon,” Finriel muttered, ignoring Lorian’s words. Though her tone was casual, an edge of venom licked across the witch’s tongue as she spoke.
Lorian stared at her, his eyes blank in surprise. Tedric looked between the two of them in confusion, and the question finally bubbled over.
“I’m sorry,” Tedric sighed, “but do you two know each other from some previous incident?”
Finriel snorted in response and Lorian merely gave a cowardly shrug before shoving more cheese into his mouth.
“I don’t know this thief,” Finriel answered after a few moments of tense silence. “I stopped wanting to know him ten years ago.”
Tedric remained silent at this. Their past was clearly not an enjoyable one, and certainly not one very high on the discussion list. Even so, he was curious about how they knew each other, as well as their pasts. He was confident that Lorian would not be difficult to crack, but he wasn’t so sure about Finriel. She was clearly wounded, and Tedric knew how thick those scars could run.
Tedric remained ahead of his other two companions during the day, with Finriel one step behind him and Lorian lagging slightly behind her. Tedric found himself feeling bad for the thief while they traveled, as he was sure it was difficult to walk all day with barely any meat on ones bones or muscles to help. The companions walked in tense silence for the remainder of their journey to Proveria’s border. The sounds of their footsteps and the mogwa’s heavy panting were the only noises around them and the only things keeping Tedric’s mind from running wild. They only stopped twice for short moments of rest and water from the water skin Tedric carried, which seemed to have had a spell put on it to make its contents magically replenish whenever it emptied.
The sun was beginning to set by the time they reached the crest of a hill that overlooked the tall looming pines and shimmering blue wall of light that indicated Proveria’s border. Tedric’s stomach churned at the sight of the enormous shimmering border and strange forest beyond. They were going to leave Keadora. He wasn’t even sure when they would return, if they returned. He did not want to think about that. The beasts couldn’t be so dangerous as to kill one of the companions, could they?
“We should spend the night on the Keadoran border and enter the forest at daybreak,” Lorian suggested, the first words that were spoken since Tedric’s misstep in conversation.
Finriel nodded in silent agreement and narrowed her eyes as she inspected the horizon. Tedric did the same, and moments later spotted a small patch of large jagged grey rocks only a few meters away from the Proverian border.
“There, we can make camp by those rocks,” Tedric said, pointing to them.
Lorian and Finriel followed Tedric as they made their way down the hill, Tedric’s legs groaning with fatigue with every step that brought them closer to the forest. They all staggered to a stop once they reached their destination, and Tedric looked at the shimmering border and tree line before him. The trees towered high above them, the tops extending past Tedric’s vision. He’d only crossed into Millris Forest once, and was already dreading his untimely return into its mysterious depths.
“I wish we could make a fire,” Lorian muttered, and scanned the ground in search of any stray wood or kindling.
Tedric knew he would find none. Th
is area of Keadora did not have trees, and therefore they would not be successful in creating a fire unless they ventured into the forest ahead.
“It’s no use,” Tedric replied. “Not unless you want to chance entering Proveria.”
Finriel gave a humph and sat with her back against one of the large grey stones, her orange and caramel eyes set upon the ground. Tedric considered the girl, who, like Lorian, was no more than two years younger than he was.
“Have you ever shown signs of battle magic?” Tedric found himself asking Finriel.
“You’re asking if I have the capability of producing fire magic?” she replied. “I do not, and even if I ever did, I wouldn’t risk any sort of battle magic just to make a silly fire.”
Tedric remembered the other half of his lessons about the peace law as a child. Any type of potentially violent magic was prohibited since the beginning of the thousand-year peace, and Adustio, goddess and creator of the witches, had long since cast a spell upon all witches living within Keadora that made battle magic dormant. That magic included creating fire and manipulating another’s body against their will.
There were still some born with battle magic, however. The few unfortunately gifted souls were either given the same suppression enchantment, drowned by a bed of stones strapped to their backs, or sent to the Witch Isles for proper training and permanent isolation from the rest of the realm. The Witch Isles were an island in the Sandrial Waters, off the west of Keadora, and said to be the birthplace of all witches.
Lorian coughed, and Tedric glanced at the thief. Curiosity swam through Tedric as the thief watched Finriel with an expression mingled with both fear and frustration. Finriel shot him a glare and reached a hand out to stroke the mogwa now lying at her side.
“It’s likely a good thing that you don’t have battle magic anyway,” Tedric said, and Finriel’s gaze narrowed upon him further.
“Why do you say that?”
Of Liars and Thieves Page 4