Alyssa knew from the moment her fire affinity was discovered, she would spend a lifetime fighting. The Filigree family were Victory nobles. Instead of riding the achievements of their long dead ancestors, each generation was expected to cultivate themselves and contribute to the ultimate goal of conquering the Bleak Peaks.

As her father’s third daughter, she at least had a choice in what way she would give herself. She could marry one of the knights, popping out new soldiers for the cause while joining the other wives in managing her family’s estate. Or she could swear off marriage and join one of the virgin orders, knightly orders composed entirely of women and the only orders female fighters of Victory were allowed to join.

Young and brash, she chose the latter, eager to throw herself at the monsters she’d grown up hating. Once she left, she wondered why she, and every other youth of Victory, hated the lords of winter so much. Despite their many attempts at war, humanity had lived in peace with their neighbors for centuries.

They would lose nothing if they simply gave up their endless campaign. Rather, if so many of their soldiers weren’t buried under the heavy banks of snow year after year, Duke James would have no trouble marching on Summer Spire and usurping the throne. An eventuality that most likely explained why the crown continued to support the fruitless endeavor with countless resources.

Reason didn’t matter. As if the grudge was passed down through their blood, no matter the futility, no matter what they suffered personally, no matter how many of their family members died, new recruits willing to give their lives appeared yearly and fearlessly marched into the land of winter, hell bent on honoring the name of their home.

Alyssa had been one of the best among them. Less for her talent and more for her temperament. A genius was useless if they broke down after their first blizzard. It took something special to march to what most, including the people of Victory, considered certain death. Her teachers used the word ‘bravery’. Alyssa thought it was closer to ‘lunacy’. The orders liked their recruits strong, resilient, and a little crazy. She fit the description perfectly.

But not even her fiery temper could withstand the oppressive frost. Five campaigns over nine years. She had acquired too many scars and watched too many friends die before she realized that she wasn’t the hero that every Victory knight dreamed of being. If they had managed to make even a little progress, spite might have kept her going but they never managed to carve out a single piece of that hell for themselves. Not a single meter.

Five times she’d dragged her battered body back home, guarding a train of wagons carrying her fallen comrades lest they be snatched by scavengers. Each time, she felt smaller beneath the looming mountains. Too small to dream she could scale them and slay their rulers.

Once she stopped fighting, she contributed by teaching others but that only lasted five years. She couldn’t continue sending her students, brilliant fighters who could be so much more than fodder for the orders or simple souls who just deserved better, to their deaths in vain. By then, she’d had enough of Fort Victory and its grim atmosphere. She left, willing to go anywhere that wasn’t shadowed by those damn mountains.

She never made it too far. With little money, she became a hunter in Quest. The manabeasts of the kingdom were a joke compared to the cold hell she endured. She quickly became famous. Famous enough to draw the attention of the Hall.

At first, the thought of teaching again made her leery. It took months of consideration before she realized that it was a chance to make amends. To keep her students from throwing their lives away and helping them become the legends they could be.

Life at the Hall suited her. She ate warm meals, the closest the weather came to the horrible blizzards that plagued her nightmares were a few light summer drizzles, and the most dangerous thing she had to deal with was the occasional idiot. She taught one class; advanced casting geared toward fire casters. Her requirements were rather strict and she refused to compromise them. She didn’t have enough students to justify her rather sizable income so she worked the Grand Watch, the Grand Hall’s problem solvers, for half the week.

A job she found she enjoyed more than teaching. The only people stupid enough to cause trouble at the Hall were…stupid people. Which led to several amusing situations. Annoying ones as well, which tended to include rich brats, but most shifts she spent in the shift commander’s office with her feet kicked up, reading reports.

She was in the middle of doing exactly that when someone knocked on the door, entering before she had a chance to call out. “Hey, Boss. We might have a bit of a situation.”

Alyssa scowled at Lane Macklemore, her right hand. A brat born and raised amongst the hunters of Quest who thought he wanted to spend his life fighting monsters. Seven years ago, she accepted him into her class as repayment for a favor. One look at him and she knew he wasn’t a fighter. He was a stubborn bastard, though. A poor one too.

Luckily, he’d also signed up for a Magic Cooking class, something that put his talent with fire to use. She liked him enough to give him a chance and made him an assistant teacher under her, a position that got him access to a better place to stay, a better kitchen, and decent pay. An arrangement that should have lasted for a year or two but he remained at her side. She allowed it as he continued to make himself useful, figuring he would fly the coop when he was good and ready. Not to mention she saved a bundle on domestic services.

“Get on with it, Lane,” she replied without looking up, putting down another report from the previous shift.

“One of the pairs on patrol looped through the residential district and spotted something unusual. Signs of combat or at least wanton use of magic.”

Alyssa sighed. She wished that large coefficients came with equally sized brains instead of egos. “There are designated areas for spell demonstration and practice. Don’t those idiots know they don’t actually own those places?” She dropped her reports and stood up, slowly stretching. She ignored the way Lane averted his gaze. “Who does the estate belong to?”

“It’s registered to the elf.”

She stiffened, her well-honed instinct for trouble screaming at her. Not that she needed it. Her common sense was working just fine and it told her not to involve herself with that strange couple, no matter what anyone reported. It was just too bad that she had a job to do.

Suspicious activity had to be investigated, especially for high profile targets like the only elf to openly visit the Harvest Kingdom in a few centuries. People had plans for that woman and if something happened to her on Alyssa’s watch, it would mean an endless amount of trouble. Besides, she could only imagine what would give that long-eared monster trouble.

“Get a team together,” she grumbled as she retrieved her armor. In Victory, the orders preferred heavy armor, both to resist the unending waves of monsters and to keep warm. On the plains of the kingdom, that heavy armor was too cumbersome, so she switched to something lighter; thick leather that didn’t hamper movement with metal gauntlets, armored boots, and a custom helm with a dark visor.

Fire spells could get bright, which she had learned to count on. One of her favorite spells involved a brief high-intensity flame that was bright enough to blind anyone that looked directly at it. Most opponents instinctively closed their eyes. Not having to gave her a significant advantage. It also worked great for intimidating brats into behaving.

When she walked from the office, Lane and five deputies, acolytes in need of money, waited for her, each in their own mishmash of armor. It was a little embarrassing for a security force to not have a standard for protection but if the Hall wouldn’t cover it, she definitely wouldn’t.

“Lane, pull the wheels around. As for the rest of you…” She eyed their barely contained smiles and shuffling limbs. “I’m sure you all know who we are about to visit,” she said slowly, lips twitching with her effort to hold back a sneer as they struggled to contain themselves.

“The famous Kierra Atainna. At her home, no less. No doubt, the rumor mill has been going strong and you’re eager to contribute to it. But let me make one thing clear. You are not going to try anything on my shift. If any one of you tries something the slightest bit beyond the scope of our duties, I will slow roast you and feed you to the monsters in the Sanctuary. Understood?”

They shouted their affirmatives, their excitement giving way to caution. Alyssa smiled in satisfaction. “Good. A little background. Elves seem to have a very different culture from us. Luckily, they don’t seem to care about the same pretentious ‘courtesies’ of the capital but step carefully. We don’t know what this is and we don’t want to accidentally offend this woman. Least of which because if you do, she can tear your heads from your shoulders and I won’t be able to do a thing to stop her.”

Another round of affirmatives followed, the deputies looking a touch uneasy. Just the way she wanted them.

“When we get there, you don’t do a thing unless I tell you. Oh, and try to keep your distance from the girl Lourianne Tome. She is a noble and she seems to have a thing against men. Don’t underestimate her because she’s an initiate.” She didn’t anticipate any problems but it was best to nip any possible sources in the bud.

The door to their building opened and Lane stuck his head in. “Wheels are ready, Boss.”

“You heard him. Let’s go.”