This story is being rewritten! The new version, A Price in Memory, can be found here.

I highly suggest you read the new version as this one won't be completed. Also, there has been a lot of changes so you won't be able to continue with the other where this one left off.

Y’rid and the others made their way through the city heading towards one of the inns they passed on their way to meet with the citylord.

“So,” Holin asked, “are we really going to help them?”

Rhone shrugged. “This is an opportunity to learn more about these beasts, perhaps even to find the source of them.”

“We’re not exactly at full strength here. Five of us including Y’rid, who has yet to undergo the ritual. I’m all for finding the source of these things” – Holin rubbed the side of his face as he spoke – “but this seems like something that calls for more than one hunting party.”

Rhone sighed. “It does. But whatever is going on here is something we need to look into. The sooner the better, considering how far these beasts have already spread. In any case, simply seeing how these beasts operate in a group would be valuable, and the two we’ve encountered so far were completely different. Perhaps we could find some similarities if we had more to observe, some common trait that might be useful, either in killing the beasts or in tracking down those responsible. If we truly can’t handle the situation then at least we would have gained some insight that we can take back to Stronghold.”

“I think we should help the people here,” Kali said. “Isn’t that why we are part of the Order in the first place? And didn’t you just tell the citylord that we would?”

Holin laughed, “Do you think the man would have been so forthcoming if we told him we wouldn’t?”

“What?” Kali asked incredulously. “You’ll just abandon them to their fate?”

“We’ll do what we can,” Rhone said reassuringly, but his voice gained an edge as he continued. “But there is only so much a handful of people can do, no matter who they are.” – He held up a hand as Kali started to say something. – “Our first priority should be to find the source of the beasts and stop it. Failing that, then gathering as much information as we can and taking it to Stronghold is the next best option.”

Kali looked to Red for support, but the man merely shrugged.

“The true threat is not here,” the big man said. “The beasts moving south.” – He shook his head – “That is worse. That much movement shows a greater imbalance. If left on its own it may fester. That cannot be allowed to happen.”

“And if these rune-beasts are responsible for the disturbance? Should we not try to take care of the threat?”

“That is why we need to find more information,” Rhone said.

Kali muttered something under her breath that Y’rid couldn’t quite catch.

“Speaking of which,” Holin said. “This mage that arrived here, the first mage of the Golden Lord. Months away from Theer in a city that is being attacked by beasts created by a mage…”

“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Rhone said.

“Oh come on, surely you have to admit it is a little strange.”

“I prefer to deal in facts, Holin.”

“We don’t have many of those.”

“Then we’ll just have to find them, won’t we?”

“This ‘Golden Lord’ a big deal?” Y’rid asked.

“He is a citylord in the south,” Holin answered. “Hell, he is the citylord in the south. Comes from a long line of lords, all of which have inherited the title of Golden Lord when they took over, tracing back to the first… how many generations ago?”

“Six,” Rhone answered.

“Right, for six generations a single family has ruled over Theer, arguably even built it. The capital of the south, shining beacon of humanity, and a light in the darkness. At least that is what they pride themselves as. A collection of three cities, under rule of the Golden Lord, who under him has three mages, the Three Pillars. The first of which finds himself here.”

“So why would that make the mage a suspect?” Y’rid asked. “Don’t mages travel?”

“It doesn’t and they do,” Rhone answered.

“Ah,” Holin said, ignoring Rhone. “You have to understand the significance of Theer. It has immense sway in the far south. Even though it consists of three cities, it’s influence no doubt stretches further. It is rare that a city stays in the hands of a single family for even two generations, the more profitable and important cities are even less likely to do so. Yet, the Golden Lord’s family has kept Theer for six. He is also the only person I know of who has mages pledged to his service. And I heard that the First Pillar is quite famous himself.”

Holin looked towards Rhone, who stayed silent for a minute before finally speaking, causing Holin to smile.

“Immanus,” Rhone said, still looking to the front. “If he is still the First Pillar then he should be over a hundred and fifty terms now, plenty of time to build a reputation.”

Y’rid felt his own eyes widen involuntarily and heard Holin give a whistle. “That old? How?”

Rhone shrugged. “How else? Magic.”

A hundred and fifty terms. More than eight times his current age. Even if he tried to convert the time he spent in his previous life and added them to his current, he guessed that the mage would still be around three times that.

If he’s that old...

He felt his heart speed up. Perhaps this mage would know of a way to send him back, or at least point him in the right direction. Surely he must have come across similar cases in that time?

“And now, as I said before,” Holin said, “this mage is in a small city far to the north right when said city is attacked by creatures created by a mage.”

Y’rid pulled his attention back to the conversation, forcing the spike of longing to the back of his mind. Now was not the time for this. He needed to spend some time and think this through.

“A ludicrously thin connection,” Rhone said, looking at Holin. “You are attributing the situation to the Therien mage because Theer and the mage themselves are unusual.”

“I’m not attributing anything to anyone,” Holin said with mock offence, before smiling. “I’m merely pointing out what I see.”

Rhone sighed. “You are expecting a certain answer. Don’t you think it will cloud your judgement?”

“Instinct doesn’t cloud judgement, it points one in the right direction.”

“Instinct?” Rhone asked with a raised brow. “Let's hear it then. Why?”

Holin looked at a man walking their way, he waited until the man passed before he spoke. “Theer might be looking to expand, gain a foothold in the north. Or the mage might be testing out new magic and chose to do so here to avoid collateral damage.”

“It’ll take three-fourths of a term’s travel to get to Theer,” Rhone said with a shake of his head. “The distance also wouldn’t allow for any significant interference from Theer regarding the governance of the city, and trade would be nearly unattainable. For the same reason, the mage testing out magic is also unlikely. It would take less time to take a ship with the seafolk to Eidir, which would leave them with the entire Belt between Theer and any possible collateral.”

Rhone looked at Holin as he finished speaking. Holin stared back with a raised eyebrow, not that he had more than one to raise.

“Again,” Rhone continued. “The connection is too thin, much too thin, that’s why we need more information.”

“I still don’t like it,” Holin said causing Rhone to sigh and Red to chuckle.

They continued walking in silence for a few minutes before they reached one of the largest inns they had passed by on their way here and the only one with a stable.

Y’rid and the rest waited outside with the cart while Rhone went in to get rooms for the group. The building was a large stone structure with high walls and some type of straw-like roof.

The people passing on the street were far fewer than the city’s size would suggest, just like when they first entered. Those that he did see, either kept their heads down when they made eye contact with the group, hurrying on their way. Or they greeted them with ‘hunters’, or a nod, before standing up a bit straighter.

Before Y’rid could consider this much Rhone came back followed by a young man, who showed them to the stable next to the inn.

“Latch!” The man shouted as he reached the open entrance to the stable. “Got a d’yar here for you!”

“Quit your yelling!” A voice yelled out from within. “I’m not deaf yet.”

Another man came out of the stable, past his prime with a rough look about him. He wore sturdy clothing that, even at a glance, one could tell was made for durability instead of comfort. The sleeves were rolled up even in the cold northern air, revealing a black marking on one of the man’s arms. A half circle with a line through the middle.

The man stepped up to them, heavily favouring one leg as he did so. He looked them over as he wiped his hands on a cloth that looked more stained than the hands it was supposed to clean. He raised an eyebrow as he noticed the red eyes gazing back at him.

“Beast-eaters, eh?”

The young man’s eyes widened as he heard the older man. “Latch! You can’t-“

“Oh, shut up boy,” Latch said. “I doubt they’re as thin-skinned as you.”

Holin chuckled as Rhone stepped forward and pointed at the mark on the man’s arm. “You were a part of the Riders?”

Latch looked at Rhone in surprise. “I was.”

Rhone smiled, “I fought with Hein in the Plains a long time ago.”

“Wait,” Latch said, squinting at Rhone. “You were with that mad bastard with the spear, weren’t you? Helped us take down those Ishali.”

“Gahnd.”

“Ah yes, that was his name.” The man said smiling as he held out a hand which Rhone griped. “Hell of a fight that was. Lucky you were there, not that we wouldn’t have taken them down eventually though. Still, nice to say I fought with the red-eyes.”

“How did you end up here?” Rhone asked.

The man slapped his leg. “Got my knee done in, and not even in a hunt. Fucking new recruit didn’t know how to handle his mount. Wrong place at the wrong time.”

The man shook his head. “Had a bit of coin saved up, but that only gets you so far. Been here for the past few terms.”

The man led them inside the stable. Inside were large pens, most of which held d’yari. What caught Y’rid’s attention however, was the hound lying sprawled out at the far end. An animal he had not seen in a long time. He could remember them from his previous life, some of the people in the town had used them when hunting. He had not seen any since he had awakened in this world though.

“You like waren?” The man asked, a smile stretching across his face as he noticed Y’rid’s gaze. ”Then you’ll know that Harla here is more than she seems, she’s my eyes and ears. Nothing gets past her.”

Y’rid looked to the snoring hound, sleeping in the sunlight that shone through the window to the side. He heard Holin snort next to him.

It was a bit bigger than those from his memories, almost the size of a steelwolf, the muscles clearly defined. But the greying hair around its snout and chest spoke of its age, making him doubt the man’s faith in the animal. That and the fact that it hadn’t even woken when they entered.

Latch ignored Holin however and gestured Red forward who led the d’yar. “Well, bring that beastie here and let’s have a look at him.”

Red brought the d’yar over, having unhitched the cart outside.

“Pity you use him for dragging your supplies.” The man said as he guided the d’yar to one of the compartments.

“Not exactly the best terrain for mounts,” Rhone said.

Latch grunted. “So you’re here to help with the horde?”

“We’ll try to figure out what is happening here.”

Latch nodded. “That spear-wielder here as well? He was a monster with that thing. Made Tion abandon his sword in favour of the spear, got him killed when the shaft snapped though.”

Rhone’s expression hardened and he shook his head slightly. “He passed.”

The man sighed. “More of that going around these days then I used to remember. Makes me think there’s something in the air. Though Harla would have sniffed it out were it so.”

“Know where we can find d’yari for sale?” Rhone asked changing the conversation.

“I might, but why would you need two?”

“I was planning on getting some more supplies to take back,” Rhone said. “While we’re here might as well get a few sacks of dosh.”

“That might about be the only thing you’ll be getting here. The price of food went up threefold with the attacks. Dosh is the only thing still reasonably priced, though that also went up. What with the farmers being unable to get to their lands and all.”

Rhone nodded. “We’ll probably take a look around before we settle on anything.”

“If you do decide to buy then come find me,” The man said and pointed to a d’yar near the end of the stable. “I’ve still got one here that I can part with.”

“A Rider selling his d’yar?” Rhone asked with a raised brow.

Latch shrugged. “Not much use in a fight with this leg, as you said, not the right terrain for mounted fighting. I’d rather take the coin and Harla and move on to Vhiren up north” – he rubbed his chin in thought – “Try Alma’s, south side of the trade quarter. She might give you a half decent deal on supplies.”

“Will do,” Rhone said and bid the man farewell, after which they grabbed what they could from the cart and started to carry it inside the inn to the rooms Rhone had rented.

Inside, the common room consisted of a single long open space that stretched from the front to the back wall. Tall wooden pillars stretched from the ground in certain places. Looking up, Y’rid could see them supporting large wooden baulks that looked like the trunks of small trees, stretching from one wall to the other and keeping up the angled wooden grid and strawlike mesh that made the roof. Doorways on the side of the room led away to hallways with side doors leading to, what Y’rid assumed, would be the rooms of the patrons.

The common room itself was filled with tables. At one side sat a large group of men and women spread out across three tables, most wearing rough clothing but a few in armour, though they all had weapons at their side.

At the far end sat a group of people speaking in low tones, a sharp contrast to the first group that laughed as they spoke to each other while drinking and eating.

Except for one man eating alone in silence the rest of the tables, more than half of them, were unoccupied.

Some of the people glanced up at them as they entered before turning back to what they were doing.

After making two trips to carry the cart supplies to the rooms, which Y’rid had rightly guessed to be located in the hallways, they went back to the common room and sat down at a table in the front corner of the room.

“What’s the plan?” Holin asked as they sat down.

Rhone pulled out the reports he received from the citylord.

“We’ll have to make contact with the mage,” he said as he started to go through the stack of papers. “It might also be helpful to speak with some of the guards, mercenaries and hunters. Hopefully, we can find out with who to speak from these reports. Might be able to save us some time.”

Rhone looked up and Y’rid followed his gaze to the serving girl that arrived at their table.

“Can I get you anything?” The girl asked with a smile.

They ordered six bowls of stew and bread, which was the meal of the day, as well as five mugs of ale made from the dosh grains that Clove prided itself on.

“You said you wanted to buy some supplies?” Y’rid asked after the girl left. “I want to check around and see if I can get some warmer clothing for myself and Hadi.”

“I would suggest you do that today,” Rhone said. “We might be spending a few nights up on the wall. I want to see how this horde functions. If it really is as strange as we heard. The supplies aren’t all that necessary. They are mostly for Stronghold, if we can’t get a good price then, I’ rather leave it.”

“Selling the jewels we got from the scavengers wreckage should earn us some coin,” Holin said. “However I doubt a lot of people here would be eager to buy them. No doubt getting all dressed up for the beasts isn’t high on their priority list.”

Y’rid nodded. From what he knew, most of their funds came from hunting down specific beasts that other groups had trouble dealing with, or selling parts of them as trophies to nobles. It amazed him to hear how much people with too much coin would spend on the skulls of certain beasts. The absurd amount some nobles would pay for a behemoth’s skull was enough for a man to survive off of for the rest of his life.

They kept a part of what they made and another went to the Order. There it was given out to hunting parties who ventured out, to trade with for supplies that were hard to come by, like those they bought at Lok, most of which was only produced in the south.

“Hmm,” Rhone muttered in agreement as he quickly scanned the reports, placing the papers he was done with to the side. “Best save them for another time.”

The aroma of the food caused Y’rid’s mouth to water even before he heard the girl’s approach. She quickly arrived with another and placed the bowls and ale onto the table. Y’rid immediately pulled one of the bowls over as Rhone passed a few silver to the serving girls.

The food was good, though quite different from what he was used to travelling with the group. The stew was more watery and contained less meat and a lot of small brownish grains. This did not make it any less flavourful though. The grains sweet taste complementing the meat and vegetables.

“What is this?” Y’rid asked pointing at one of the grains.

“That would be dosh grain,” Holin said. “Same stuff the ale is made of. Seems like every second thing in clove is made of the plant, even the roof.” He pointed upward at the straw-like mesh to illustrate.

“Found something?” Holin asked.

Y’rid turned his gaze to see him looking at Rhone who had his eyes focused on the paper in his hands, his food laying untouched in front of him.

“Maybe,” Rhone said after a few moments. “A few hunters tried to track down the location of the beasts after they retreated.”

The creaking of the front door of the inn drew Y’rid’s attention. A man stepped inside, his long hair tied behind his head revealing the sword hilt that poked out over his shoulder. Much more interesting though, was the faintly glowing symbols that were etched onto the metal breastplate he wore.

“Oh?” Holin said. “Looks like company.”

The man scanned over the inn’s patrons before landing on their table. A faint smile touched his face as he made his way over.

“For a moment I thought I was given false information,” the man said as he reached them. “Glad to see I wouldn’t have to spend the night tracking down a beggar.”

“I guess said beggar would have been even more unhappy with the whole situation,” Holin said, causing the man’s smile to widen.

“I would wager the same. But I would have found you eventually, the news of your arrival spread quite quickly.”

“Of course it did,” Holin replied. “We are special like that.”

“That so? I have heard a lot about your Order over the years. First time I met any though, have to say I’m a bit disappointed you’re not all ten feet tall and riding alds.”

“Had to leave them back outside the city walls, scares the children. But if it’s a giant you want then I am sure Red here can put on a foot or two under the right circumstances.”

The man’s brow creased as he looked at Holin in confusion before opening his mouth.

“You found us,” Rhone said, interrupting whatever the man was going to say. “So perhaps telling us why you searched in the first place would be a good place to start.”

“Ah, where are my manners? I am Jear, the hand of Immanus, First Pillar of Theer,” the man said with a flourishing bow, his smile quickly returning to its former place. “I came on behalf of the mage to request a meeting at your earliest convenience.”

“Hmm, I just happen to have some questions for the mage myself,” Rhone said, folding away the reports and stuffing them into a pocket on the coat he wore over his armour.

“Red, you and Kali see what you can do about those supplies. Y’rid, you get those clothes you wanted they might come in handy tonight,” Rhone addressed them before turning to Holin who was quickly gulping down the last of his stew. “Holin, you’re with me.”

“Excellent,” Jear said. “I’ll lead you to the First then.”

Holin put down his empty bowl before he grabbed Rhone’s untouched one and stood up. He slapped Y’rid on the shoulder as he passed leaving with Rhone and Jear while starting to eat from the second bowl.

***

Holin held up a hand to block out the sun’s rays from his eye as he stepped outside, giving it a few moments to adjust. He followed after Rhone, eyeing the newcomer who was walking alongside Rhone and a stride or two in front of him.

The warsword on his back was something between a longsword and a greatsword, the hilt wrapped in dark leather with silver stitching, and an unnecessarily bright ruby adorning the pommel. The scabbard had engraved patterns covering it with clip attaching it to the back strap enabling both sword and scabbard to be drawn in one movement in case of emergency. He could not see the blade but he’d have wagered it had similar runes engraved onto it as the man’s breastplate.

The man’s stride was balanced and fluid showing a familiarity with the weight of the sword and armour and a confidence that could come from either experience or arrogance, though given his station, Holin was willing to bet it was a bit of both.

A smile touched his face, the stretching of the regrown skin causing it to itch. The man was dangerous. And he felt an urge to test out just how dangerous.

But picking a fight now would be stupid, he doubted the mage they were visiting would be impressed. He dipped the wooden spoon into the bowl he still held and scooped up a piece of meat mixed with various other bits, bringing it his mouth and enjoying the taste.

“So,” Holin said, speaking over the food before swallowing the bite. “That mage you’re serving is quite the old man, eh? He must have seen a lot of things in his time.”

Jear glanced at him over his shoulder. “Indeed. He has served three Golden Lords. Seen more than most people could ever hope to.”

Holin nodded. “He ever saw any beasts with runes carved into their skin? Other than here, of course. Him having seen so much and all…”

Jear turned to Holin as he walked. “Not that I know of,” – the man smiled – “seeing more than most people could hope for only means so much, especially since… well, you know.” Jear said and rubbed at one of his eyes.

Holin chuckled.

Maybe just a little nudge.

”Hand of the First Pillar, eh?” Holin said. “What exactly does being the Hand entail? Being so old, he must not get a lot of action, right? So if, say, the First Pillar was having a problem with his pillar... would a hand be required, expected, or perhaps, offered?”

Jear’s smile faltered as he looked at Holin, his eyes narrowing into a sharp glare.

“We heard from the citylord that the First Pillar managed to bring down one of those beasts,” Rhone said, glancing at Holin, the warning clear in his eyes. “Anything you could tell us about that?”

Holin shrugged and went back to eating. Jear looked at him for a moment longer before turning to Rhone.

“We did yes,” Jear said in a serious tone. “Looked like one of those big cats you have here, nhilynxes right? Except this one was quite a bit different.”

“How so?”

“Bigger in structure, stronger legs. You’ll see, the First Pillar has been studying its corpse. I’ve seen a few of the nhilynxes scale the walls during the assaults, but it usually takes some time and they aren’t always successful. This one cleared the wall in a single leap. Then the real fun started. It set itself on fire along with three other nearby guards with some kind of liquid flame. The fire didn’t seem to do much to it, but hearing the guards screams, I doubt that had anything to do with the flames itself.

A few of the nearby guard sent a few arrows into it slowing it down, which gave the First Pillar the time needed to utilize his magic. Don’t know what he did but the creature’s waist exploded in fire with enough force to tear it in two. Quite the sight.”

Holin listened as Rhone asked a few more questions of Jear as they walked, mostly about what the man noticed about the rune-beasts, which didn’t seem like much. While he had seen a few of them, he had never actually engaged one as his role seemed to be guarding the mage.

Three dozen guards and retainers, including Jear, had come north with Immanus. Though the man didn’t elaborate on their reason for doing so, and neither did Rhone ask. They had come across Clove with the intent to resupply, but hearing about the strange beasts and seeing them that very night had captured the attention of the mage and they had stayed until now.

Holin took one last bite from the stew and reached out to balance to bowl on the edge of a passing cart. “So your mage is just here for the sake of studying these beasts?”

Jear turned to him. “His reasons for doing what he does remains with him. But if you wish to guilt us into helping then you would do well to remember that our loyalty is to Theer, not this city.”

A shattering sound followed by a few curses reached their ears from behind causing Jear’s eyes to dart to the source before focusing back on Holin.

“I’m not questioning his motives,” Holin said with mock offence before he narrowed his eye. “Only wondering what they might be.”

“Then you can ask him yourself,” Jear said with a snort. “We’re here.”

The man came to a stop in front of a large building next to the river. A small yard separated the building from the street with a wooden walkway leading up to the doorway. Several armed men sat at a small table that stood in the shade of the single tree in the yard.

Two of them were in conversation while the third seemed to be fiddling with a crossbow that sat on the table in front of him. The men looked up as they approached, their eyes scanning over Holin and Rhone.

“Jear.” The man with the crossbow said in greeting before turning back to his work. “These the ones the mage wanted to see?”

“Why no Ayve,” Jear said, sarcasm dripping from his tone. “I couldn’t find them, so I just decided to take a couple of random people from the street.”

“And who could argue with such charm?” Holin said getting a snicker from one of the other men.

“Just asking,” the third man replied.

Jear ignored him and led them inside the house. A large open room greeted them, with stone walls heated up by the fireplace located at the opposite wall. Mounted on the wall above the mantel was the skull of a globecharger, the thick forward-facing horns, long as a man’s leg, reaching downwards to both sides of the fireplace.

Barely adolescent.

Flanking the skull were two halberds, too big to be truly effective… unless you were Red. The thought brought a smile to Holin’s face. The entire aesthetic of the room seemed to be designed to awe or perhaps intimidate visitors.

“Nice place,” Holin said casually.

“It is adequate,” Jear answered.

“Ridiculous is what it is,” A voice reached them from the side. Turning, Holin saw an ancient looking man step through an open doorway. Thin white hair flowed passed his wrinkled skin and onto his shoulders. Various talismans, armbands and rings covered in glowing runes adorned the man, the gold and silver of their make contrasting against the plain shirt and leggings he wore, which themselves were adorned with various bloodstains.

“The noble that owned the place turned tail towards the nearest neighbouring city when the attacks started,” the man said as he moved over with a grace that belied his apparent age. “At least it has a lot of fireplaces. The cold doesn’t work well with these old southern bones, and wasting constant strength on a heating spell would be nothing less than a crime given the circumstances.”

“I am Immanus,” the old mage said. His brown eyes rippled with gold as he looked at them before returning to normal, the corner of his mouth tilting upwards ever so slightly. “And you are of the Order of Thal.”

“We are,” Rhone answered. “I’m Rhone and this is Holin.”

Immanus nodded. “I’ve met a few of your members over the years. Unfortunately, we don’t get many down in Theer, so when I heard you were in the city I invited you here, not knowing if you were only passing through.”

“The appearance of these mutated beasts are rather disconcerting,” Rhone replied. “I doubt we will leave before we have a clearer picture of what is truly happening.”

“It is fascinating, isn’t it?” Immanus asked turned back through the doorway, gesturing for them to follow. “Adhering functioning runes to living flesh is immensely complicated. There have been a few odd cases of partial success, but other than the beastmen, no one has managed to achieve results consistently. Until now that is.”

Immanus walked down a staircase leading below into the basement, Jear right behind him with Rhone and Holin bringing up the rear.

“I tried capturing one last night when the opportunity presented itself, but things turned out quite a bit differently.”

The stairs opened up into a rectangular room containing a large wooden table. Dried blood stained its legs and the floor beneath, no doubt having come from the skinned and partially dissected corpse lying on top of the table.

Holin scanned the room, taking in the two pillars supporting the floor above and the row of barrels lining the far wall before focusing on charred and the stretched-out skin nailed into the side wall. Visible through the blackened scorch marks were lots of small circular holes as well as the Old Tongue runes that had once given the beast its strength.

Immanus strode over to the table and looked down at the cut mass of muscle and bone. “A nhilynx. Though if I didn’t see the runes myself I would have denied the fact.”

“How so?” Rhone asked, joining the mage at the table while Jear leaned against the wall near the stairs.

“Though it has been some time since I took apart one of those beasts,” Immanus said, “my memory isn’t as bad as my age would suggest. The runes seem to have changed the internal structure of the beast’s body significantly.”

Rhone leaned over the corpse and reached out to trace something, his posture blocking whatever it was from Holin’s sight.

“Seems a rather strange way of trying to capture something, ripping it in half,” Holin said while observing the mage from the corner of his eye.

“Jear told you, I take it? Then he also told you that the beast had some method of using fire against its prey?”

Holin nodded.

“And how do you think such a thing came to pass?”

“Unless those runes are for decoration, the answer is obvious, no?,” Holin said pointing at the skin hanging on the wall.

“You are not wrong,” Immanus said, his tone managing to convey the opposite. “But that is only the beginning, the words that set the event in motion. Magic is not all powerful. A common misconception is that whatever you can write it in the Old Tongue would become reality. Such lines of thinking have killed more magelings and even experienced mages than beasts have, of that I can assure you. No, runes attempt to achieve what has been written by bending the laws of the world, not by breaking them.”

“Is the result not the same?” Holin asked. He had heard something similar from Kale, though he didn’t see how the details of magic mattered now.

“The end result is sometimes less important than the path taken. One only needs to think about Ash’tara of the forest to see an example.”

“A myth?” Holin asked incredulously.

“Oh, she’s real enough,” The old mage said with a shake of his head. “Strove for immortality, yet the flesh could not fulfil her desires, so her legs grew into roots, her arms, branches and her hair, leaves. She still stands after all this time, free from age, disease and hunger yet unable to move a single finger’s width by her own will.”

“In the case of this beast,” Immanus continued waving to the table. “The runes demanded controlled fire, so the body created tubes running through the muscle and skin, carrying a liquid that ignited when exposed to air. When the beast sprayed the liquid, all nearby were doused in flame, including itself. I tried to capture the beast by forcing the air in the area to press down, onto the beast, in order to prevent it from moving. But because of its body’s structure, this air was forced through the openings in its skin and through the tubes into the organ that stored the liquid, causing it to ignite while still inside the creature.”

Holin walked over to the table, to see Rhone running his hand over an intact part of the beast's shoulder, a frown on his face. All along the muscle, small blackened openings could be seen.

“You are suggesting,” Rhone began and turned to Immanus. “That by changing the body’s structure, new weaknesses or flaws would be created as well?”

“Just so.”

The memory of the rune-beast that took his eye surfaced in Holin’s mind as he looked at the corpse. That creature had been faster than any beast he had ever seen and could heat air to burn surroundings, yet that growth on its back had been surprisingly fragile. Kali’s arrow had seen it to the ground and a cut had robbed the creature of both its speed and breath.

“And would you be able to figure out what those weaknesses are, based on the runes?” Rhone asked.

“That is much more difficult,” the mage answered. “Our knowledge of the Old Tongue leaves much to be desired. Even if I recognized all of the runes on a beast, that would only allow me to discover the… result, as your companion put it. How the beast would have changed to achieve such would be far harder to see.”

“Have you seen more than one of the same kind? Perhaps more of these nhilynxes?” Rhone asked.

“No,” Immanus said. “However applying runes to these beasts in a way that they still function would require a lot of experimentation. Having one experiment succeed and then abandoning the progress to work on another completely different type of beast or rune array would be an immense waste of time, one only a fool would consider. And no fool could create this.”

“And if there aren’t more of the same kind here…” Rhone started, his voice trailing off.

“Then they must be somewhere else.” Holin finished, pulling his eyes away from the corpse. A chilling thought, but what the mage said made sense, even if he was still suspicious about the man’s motives.

Truth isn’t limited to honest men.

“Indeed,” Immanus’s voice was grim. “This horde might be the beginning. A test of sorts, to gauge effectiveness.”

“Why are you telling us this?” Rhone asked, staring the mage in the eye.

Immanus’s eyes rippled with gold before he answered. “A show of goodwill. Contrary to what you may believe hunter of Thal, our goals are the same.”

“Being?”

“The survival of our species, of course.” Immanus held Rhone’s gaze for a long moment before continuing. “So tell me, have you ever heard of something such as this?”

Rhone shook his head, “As far as I know these beasts have popped up only recently.”

“Surely there must be records of such things happening in the past,” Immanus said pacing over to the skin on the wall. “The occasions I’ve spoken with members of your Order could be counted on one hand. But I vividly remember mention of the vast library Stronghold boasts.”

The First Pillar turned to them, his eyes sharp and focused, seeming to banish any thought of a frail old man. “No city still standing is older than that fortress. The records accumulated over the terms must be a sight to behold. I would very much like to take a look myself.”

Holin raised an eyebrow.

Of course, the scholar wants more knowledge.

“Access to the Archives has been given to individuals outside of the Order over the years, usually in return for service.”

“Alas,” the mage said holding up his hands. “I have served the Golden Lord for longer than I care to remember and will continue to do so. Though perhaps access could be traded? I have no doubt that I’d be able to make a significant contribution to the Archives myself.”

A moment passed in silence before Rhone nodded. “The choice does not lie with me, that would have to be made by the Weaver. I could put in a word, but I do not know you well enough for that I’m afraid. Not yet.”

Immanus smiled in an easygoing manner. “Of course. We can get to know each other as we deal with the task at hand. First things first, after all.”

***

Immanus looked at the two departing figures from the doorway of the house. Almost instinctively, he activated the array that he had carved into his memory over the terms. He felt his vision narrow as it became tinted in a golden hue. Inconsequential surroundings fell away as he peered through flesh and bone to what lay beneath, to what most would never see in their life.

Two forms of white, anchored to their mortal cages. A picture his sight had shown him many times over the terms. He had eventually even managed to pick out the differences of individuals in the same species.

But for these two it wasn’t necessary at all. White forms made of both man and beast, merged into something else altogether. Runes flickering in and out of the forms, defying his efforts to see the array that held them together. A chaotic mess that seemed to be in perfect balance.

“Astounding.” The whisper that escaped his lips was barely audible.

“You say something?” Jear asked at his side.

The spell faded, his vision returning to normal as the two began turning around a corner and out of sight, the one-eyed man glancing back in his direction. Immanus gave the man a friendly smile as he followed his companion.

“Nothing, Jear.”

The sight that had originally only helped him carry out his duty had shown him much over his life. The hunters of Thal being a sight second only to one. He had longed to find out more about the phenomenon, but they kept their secrets close.

Immanus smiled. There was still time. This trip up north seemed more fruitful with every passing day.