“What is going on?” Thaddius asked with a grumble, the skin beneath his eyes heavy and dark. Varin paced around in his room, having woken the satyr up without remorse. Thaddius’s hair was never neat per se, but in the morning it was tousled and strewed around his horns like thread, surely a tangled pain to fix.

“Thaddius, I’m being haunted.”

“Haunted? Varin, you’ve surely lost your mind. What is haunting you? A bad piece of cow?”

“I am not kidding you, Thaddius. I saw Cateline.”

“Cateline? Where?” Thaddius looked at Varin with bewilderment, standing to his feet and grabbed one of his tunics, throwing it over his head in a hurry. Clearly, the satyr was not a morning person.

“In the woods.”

“Woods?” Thaddius asked before sighing, shaking his head. “Varin, she’s all but gone. You need to realize that, or else you’ll drive yourself mad. We will awaken her.”

“Awaken her? She was there, alive and well. I swear it.”

Thaddius turned to face him head-on, lacing the strings at the ‘v’ of his shirt. His face held a gaze of worry, and a frown of discontentment. He was still beaten and burned from the prior night, but overall he was healing up nicely. “Varin, I am worried about you. We both know where Cateline is.”

“I don’t think you’re understanding me. I know where she is, but she was also… there! In the woods, I saw her at the edge of the treeline.”

“Alright, alright. Let us pretend that you are not mad. What was Cateline doing in the woods, then?”

“Walking.”

“Walking? Walking where?”

“I do not know… but she spoke to me. I even grabbed a hold of her gown, Thaddius. Her gown. Are you saying my hands have deceived me just as my eyes have?”

Thaddius hummed. “I could say that, yes. But you would merely argue it. What did Cateline say?”

“Something about her soul being hidden in the icy crests of Axulran… that if we find her soul there, she would be set free.”

“That, my friend,” Thaddius said as he crossed the room, patting his hand on his shoulder, “sounds like the trickery of an evil little witch. Do you not remember all that Leolina has told us?”

Varin bit his tongue and glowered at Thaddius, shrugging calmly. “Why don’t we agree to disagree?”

“I think that might be best, friend. Why were you in the woods?”

“I made a friend.”

“The ghost of Cateline?” Thaddius said with a chuckle, leading him out of his quarters. This even made Varin snicker.

“No, a woman. A real woman, one that is slightly less… asleep.”

Thaddius arched a brow as he eyed Varin up and down, a sly smirk crawling onto his lips. “A real woman, aye?”

“A beautiful one at that. She took care of one of the children running around Lighthelm for me, and then we shared some stories over mead.”

“A woman is a good way to ease your woes, Varin, but I do hope you’re being careful.”

“Careful?”

Thaddius nodded. “We haven’t the slightest clue who is on our side. We are readying ourselves for a trip, correct?”

Varin nodded.

“Then, we must stay focused. What is going to happen if you are lost, just like Cateline? Aiora?” Thaddius’ eyes drew to the ground, his lips pursing into a thin line at the mention of Aiora. He was pained, the muscle surrounding his mouth twitching as he recomposed himself. “I cannot do it on my own.”

“Thaddius,” Varin said and grabbed hold of his shoulder, stopping them in their tracks, “you have become a brother to me. I would trust your blade against my throat more than my own father, may he rest in peace. Do not worry about losing me.”

The satyr looked at him with a sad smile, placing his hand on Varin’s shoulder as well. “I have never doubted you, Varin. But we have an uphill battle from here, and I need you by my side if we wish to rescue both of them.”

“You have my word.”

───── ❝ 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊, 𝖊𝖓𝖛𝖞 & 𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖈 ❞ ─────

Later in the afternoon, just before dusk, Varin was out in the burned City of Daggernest, helping farmers rebuild their fencing so they could begin collecting cattle again. It was tiresome, the beads of sweat soaking through his loose-fitting tunic. He had many splinters in his hands from carving sharpened points at the ends of the logs. It didn’t help that he had a miniature human tugging on his pant leg the second he decided to pick up a few of the heavy timbers.

“Senevia,” Varin said as he placed carved logs down. She was bouncing around him wildly, screaming about some frog she found squished in the pond nearby. “Calm down, what are you going on about?”

“The frog!” She said with a pout. “It had become my friend, but now it’s dead. Something squashed it!”

Varin couldn’t help but smile, clearing his throat to stifle a laugh. “I’m so sorry, but can you not make friends at Lighthelm? There are more than a few families taking shelter there, you know.”

“They are all boring, Varin. I want to learn to fight! I want to learn how to cast spells! Just like you.”

“Technically speaking, Senevia, you can learn one of those things at Lighthelm. You’re just a tad too young. Besides, magic isn’t something everybody can learn.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed, strands of her dirty blonde hair falling in front of her face with each head shake. “That is unfair, Lord Varin. I am more than capable enough to learn a bit of swordsmanship!”

Varin smiled down at Senevia, kneeling so he was at her eye level. He found children humorous, with their loud mouths and naive hyperactive tendencies. She held the strength of a warrior, he could tell, but her short stature and willfulness to throw a tantrum were two key indicators that she was not ready. Still, those puppy-dog eyes could make a thief give back what they had stolen from her.

“All I want is one lesson, and you can even make it bite-sized! Please, Lord Varin?”

“By the heavens, you are a stubborn little one.” Varin stood, wiping some of the dirt from his hands. He eyed the scar on her cheek and frowned. “Are you sure you wish to learn a thing or two? You’ve hardly healed that scar on your cheek.”

Senevia reached up to trace the mark with her fingers, wincing at her own touch before nodding confidently. Varin shook his head and held his hands up.

“Fine, Senevia. One lesson, but it has to wait until the morrow.”

“Really, Lord Varin?” Senevia squealed. It hurt his ears, but he couldn’t help but grin at her glee.

“Really. On one condition, though.” Varin said, laughing as her eyes grew wide and her smile dropped. “You go back to your quarters and eat a nutritious dinner. I expect you at the break of dawn, understood?”

“Not a second later!”

“Then, off with you, Senevia.” Varin shooed her, picking up one of the logs with a grunt. “I will find you in the morning.”

With that, she departed without another word. He watched as she skipped along the trail, picking at a few flowers before disappearing in the distance toward Lighthelm. The sun was beginning to set, and after he drove the plank into the ground with all his force, his eyes drifted to the shoreline. Although the tower was but a memory from here, hidden beneath layers of fog and surrounded by sharp rock, he could almost see the sunset tucking behind the building. Whoever placed it there did it with intent, it was nearly impossible to make out.

Biting his tongue, he recalled how he left Gerald there to lay waste. How the book of spells rested on that tabletop without care. How he abandoned everything and everyone in that tower.

Sighing, he backed away from the partially built fence and looked towards a worn out farmer. The man held a glass of beer in his hand, holding it up as a salute.

“Aye, warlock. Ye put in a good day's work!” Even from here, Varin could smell the stench of alcohol trailing out of his mouth as he spoke. The man had taken a seat after one hour of work, sitting there to drink while Varin did the rest. Not that he minded all that much, building a proper fence didn’t require two people. At least, not at this scale. Besides, it didn’t matter, he felt more hindered by the overweight man when he was helping compared to when he wasn’t.

“Of course, sir. Is there anything I can help you with before I leave?” Varin asked, biting his tongue to hold back any snide remarks. The man burped before holding his mug up in mocking cheers.

“Not in the slightest, unless you’d care to join me for a round.”

“Unfortunately, I do not think I am in the drinking mood tonight. I should be back tomorrow to continue helping around.”

The man grumbled, waving his hand at him before standing and disappearing into the campsite. He saw so many families resting in tents on piles of blankets and feathered pillows. Varin knew he would have to leave soon, to go and fulfill whatever ancient prophecy Leolina was convinced would bring Cateline back. Varin knew that if he could do that one thing, he would be able to get Aiora back as well, and live a life full of as little regret as possible. If he failed, he wasn’t sure he would be able to live with himself.

He turned to the shoreline once more, eyeing the water as it rushed into the sandy shore. Varin knew what he needed to do before leaving for Axulran, he needed to go and give that man a proper burial at sea, and get that spellbook so it would never end up in the wrong person's hands.

Nodding to any person he may have passed, he made his way towards the academy. As he passed the tavern, he slowed his pace and rubbed his hand across the blackened wood. It was rough to the touch, bits crumbling to the floor as he opened the door. It was halfway unhinged, creaking so loud it echoed into the evening sky. Inside, everything was black. The tall tabletops were ashes on the floor, shards of glass thrown about from the blaze of the fire. This was the only building people hadn’t started cleaning up.

The only part that still looked relatively intact was the stone firepit at the middle of the tavern, where the place would be idly illuminated by a warming fire each night. He recalled how the matron of the house would sweep around it while the bards danced around wildly, singing the tunes of warriors fighting beasts. As he looked to the right, his mind flickered back to the night where he first saw that woman.

With her blonde hair and tan skin, she was a treat to the eyes. A poisoned treat. One that put him in a trance with nothing but her stare, and overcame his life like a bad storm. He wondered if part of him was still bewitched, with all these visions of Cateline he had been seeing, but he had little time to truly worry about that. The trip to Axulran was far more important.

Varin’s thoughts drifted to Aiora, and how she would occasionally join in on their visits to this Tavern. It wasn’t frequent, for Aiora hated drunkards more than the average lady, but when she did it was always a joy. She could practically outdrink their dearest satyr, poking fun as he stumbled home while she trotted along like the champion of the world. Before all the bewitchings happened, Aiora was lighthearted and fun. It was like a switch before she disappeared.

Part of him wondered if it had to do with Gerard, the way he had taken Aiora under his wing for so long without any of them knowing. Who knows what magic he introduced Aiora to, or what she was influenced to take part in. Varin clenched his fists, it wasn’t like Aiora to side with those who caused pain. Although Leolina seemed anything but worried, Varin had his doubts that Aiora willingly ran off with Seraphine.

A shattering crash echoed from the far corner of the building. He turned his head towards it, squinting into the darkness. Carefully taking a few steps towards it, he held his hand over his dagger and wondered if he had been spied on. If somebody had decided to try and attack him while he was distracted.

Using the corner as cover, he peered his head around and expected to see a thief laying on the floor, holding his breath so as to not make more noise. He was met with nothing, though. Nothing but a shattered vase laying overtop paper.

His breath hitched. Paper? This entire building was on the verge of crumbling away from the fire damage, and on the floor lay paper as white and fresh as snow. Dirty snow, but pure nonetheless. Wiping the pieces of glass away with his foot, he reached down and brought the paper to eye level. Although it was dark, the words glistened. They were their own beacons of light.

The first word placed upon the page made his heart stop. A name.

Varin,

I have been watching. I am stuck in an endless void, only able to watch when a voice beckons me to it. It’s scary being this alone.

I’ve seen my brothers, they are plotting something terrifying. I cannot tell if it is for the better or for the worst, but I understand you are going Axulran. I overheard that, too. You must be careful.

I saw that girl you were with, in the woods. She feels familiar to me. A part of me wants to follow her, but this voice won’t let me. She looks at you in ways that make me stare in awe--I do not know if I would trust her, but she is smitten.

It felt nice seeing you again. I miss that rascal of a satyr, too, but most of all, I miss being made of flesh. I miss pain, laughter, and anger. I would take anything over numbness.

I will come to you again and look over you while in Axulran. In any way possible, I will guide you. I haven’t been the most helpful in the past, but the efforts you are going through to awaken me are enough to make me forever grateful. Thank you, Varin. Tell Thaddius I thank him too.

Until the voice lets me out again,

Cateline.