A Song of Snow and Ashes

by S.J. Drew

and put out, yet relieved, he followed her. When the hour was finished, she packed up her things and told him to expect a quiz.

  "Aolani," he said, when they got outside. "Did you think about what I said?"

  It was hard to read her facial expression, as it was mostly hidden by a thick purple scarf. "Yes, I did."

  He waited impatiently.

  "You are right. Absolutely right. And I'm ashamed at how I've been acting."

  "And?" he prompted.

  "I would like to make up for my behavior, but I don't quite know how."

  "Just treat me like you would any of your other friends. It's not that hard," he replied with an encouraging smile.

  "Yes. I suppose it isn't. Or shouldn't be."

  "Do you want to be friends with me?"

  "I want to try."

  "Alright then. But you don't want to introduce me to your friends?" he asked.

  "I'm ashamed to admit it, but no. I'm really afraid they would treat you badly, and yes, I'm re-evaluating why they are my friends. But you are a nice person, and you've certainly been very patient with me. More patient than my 'high class friends,' as you put it."

  "Then I'll take you to meet my friends first. They might look at you a little funny, but they'll get over it. Just watch your purse."

  She looked a little surprised. "What do your friends do?"

  "We meet, we talk, we play card games, we have dinner. Sometimes they like to gamble. I usually don't, because I've got no luck and don't like to throw away my money."

  "Well, alright. I think we can try that."

  "Great," he replied, trying to hide his relief and joy. "You tell me what evenin' your free, and I'll pick you up. You don't want to be walkin' in that neighborhood by yourself."

  Now she looked a touch alarmed, but then smiled. "Alright. I think I'd like that." And they made arrangements to meet later than week.

  A month passed relatively peacefully in Tallis Marrom. The weather was chilly, but not severely cold. The Azura river had patches of ice, but didn't freeze over completely. Letters were sent out to willing parties in Renfrew and other city-states, and information slowly came back in. Eliora was sent to drop off letters, but not wait around to pick them up, lest her presence be noticed. She worked out travel in the Light Realm easily, although she did wonder how she managed to come to a place she'd never been before just by reading a map. She continued her fight practice and magic practice. Jomei spent a lot of time talking with his superiors, but progress was slow.

  After the solstice, a subtle change had come over the young men in the city. Hanae reported to Eliora that she had been asked if she had delivered the gifts as promised. Hanae told them yes, and left it at that. Eliora tried her best to treat them all equally, but she started to notice a bit more bragging when she was around, or fiercer fighting when she was watching them practice. All she could do was ignore their behavior and try to treat them equally, but it was starting to make her uncomfortable.

  "Jomei, I grow tired of asking this, but will your brethren help us?" Hialmar sighed at a Council meeting.

  "They've sent word that some of the clerics will help, but only if we can guarantee they'll be dealing with agents of the LightBearer," he answered.

  "You mean they're afraid of giving information to spies rather than to us?" Eliora asked.

  "So it seems."

  "It's taken you a month to get that from them?" another man snapped irritably.

  "Quiet," Hialmar warned. "Any help will do. But what do they want from us? Papers can be forged. Seals can be duplicated. Pass phrases can be intercepted. Do they really expect every agent of ours to show up personally accompanied by the LightBearer?" he asked, similarly exasperated.

  "I don't know," Jomei replied, looking quite uncomfortable.

  They tabled the problem and turned their attention to sifting through the available information on suspect merchant movements, but soon they were back to dealing with the issue of guarantees. Tensions were starting to run high when Eliora finally spoke up.

  "Jomei, would your superiors be more comfortable if they were dealing with another organization?"

  "What do you mean?" he asked.

  "I mean, would they feel better dealing with an organization with rules and regulations? Something a bit more official than the people I happened to fall in with?"

  He looked even more uncomfortable, but answered, "Yes, I think they would."

  The other men scowled at him.

  "I was afraid of that. But that's the nature of bureaucracies, and that creates more work for us," she sighed.

  "We are organized," Hialmar snapped.

  "Yes, but clearly not to the satisfaction of the Order of Light. Does anyone here besides me have experience with bureaucracy?"

  The men of the Council looked angry and answered in the negative.

  "Jomei?" she inquired.

  "Not really. There's a good reason I answered the call to come out here and serve this particular community."

  "That's great," she thought. "Alright then. It looks like I'm going to have to talk to a high ranking cleric in Renfrew's Order of Light and assure them that this is not a haphazard operation. So the first thing we'll need is a name. Then we'll need something to identify our members."

  "We didn't expect to have organize the whole war to fight the ShadowWalker," Hialmar said tightly, voicing the thought of the entire Council.

  "I didn't either, but it seems we're stuck for it, for better or for worse," she replied. "But it appears no one else is willing to take on this burden, even those who may better able to handle this."

  Some of the Council were giving Jomei angry looks. He simply looked miserable.

  "Godsdammit," Hialmar muttered. "Well, the Lady is right. We're stuck with this, for better or for worse. So, let's just get a name and figure out something we can tell the Order so they'll work with us."

  "A name? We aren't some stupid club," grumped another man.

  "This is pointless. Don't we have better things to do?" objected another.

  They began to bicker amongst themselves.

  "Hunters," Eliora suddenly interjected.

  "What?" Hialmar asked.

  "Hunters. You can call yourselves Hunters."

  "Hunters of what?" sneered another.

  "Hunters of Darkness, of course. That's what you're going to do, isn't it? Enter dangerous territory and try to find out who's working for the ShadowWalker, and stop them. Most of you are actually hunters, if I remember what Aidan told me. You go out and hunt for food to feed this city. So it's technically true, and I think it sounds quite bold and aggressive. Do you think such a name will get the Order of Light to take us seriously, Jomei?" she asked.

  "It certainly is bold. It sounds like you are indeed taking charge of this battle, which, unofficially, is what I think they want anyway."

  Bickering started again.

  "Shut up!" ordered Hialmar. "It's good enough for me. Now, my Lady, can you so easily come up with some guarantee the Order will accept?"

  She calmed herself for a moment, reminding herself that the Council's frustration was not with her. "Papers, seals, and pass words won't do, right?"

  He nodded.

  She took a deep breath. "I hate to reveal something so personal to these strangers, but it's the best I can think of." Hesitantly, she said, "What about, marks?"

  "What kind of marks?" he asked impatiently. "Brands?"

  "No, I don't think that's the right word. Marks, of ink, beneath the skin. My people call them 'tattoos.' Something like that?"

  The men and Jomei looked bewildered.

  With a sigh, she pushed up the sleeve on her right arm. "Like this."

  They stared for a moment. Her tattoo was a half inch wide circle of intricate black marks that were cursive letters and ancient symbols in her own language.

  "Would it be difficult to imitate something like this?" she asked, feeling
quite uncomfortable.

  "I've never seen anything like that. That's just ink, under the skin?" Hialmar replied.

  "Yes. It's done using special needles."

  "We don't have anything like this. I don't think we could, what's the word you used?"

  "Tattoo."

  "Yes, I don't think we could give any of our people a tattoo," he finished. "And it's also a more obvious mark than I would like."

  She pulled her sleeve down. "Maybe something like this, but done by magic?"

  "No. I don't trust those damned mages."

  "Well, I could do it."

  "So then a cleric could do it too."

  "No, Hialmar, not exactly. My magic isn't the same as a cleric's. It's not the same as a mage's. It's different. Ask Jomei."

  He looked over at the priest.

  "She's right. Her brand of magic is unique, not exactly arcane or divine."

  "Do you have any idea how to make magic tattoos?" he asked skeptically.

  "Not yet. But I'm certainly willing to learn. What better option do we have? It means anyone who wants to become part of the Hunters would have to come through here, because I'm the only one who could endow the marks. That means we have the final control over who becomes our allies."

  The men of the Council exchanged glances. This notion seemed to appeal to them.

  "Alright, my Lady. Since we're stuck with the leading this Avatar battle, it's only fair we have the final say on who joins us and who doesn't. But this rests on your abilities to figure out how to make these Marks. I don't like wasting time, especially for petty bureaucracy," Hialmar said, directing an angry look at Jomei. "Do you think you can figure this out in a week?"

  "I-I don't know," she stammered. "I'll certainly try."

  "Fine. If that doesn't work, I'm afraid we're