Ipar looked up at the rooftops to see the net of wiring crossing the streets. The night before, the owner of the inn told him they were to bring light to all the houses of the town. “It looks ugly,” said the shepherd to Pigeon. His dog replied with a bark.

It was early dawn, and the first days of spring were still cold in the mountains. Ipar adjusted his scarf and took a deep breath. The balconies' flowers were filling the air, mixing their aromas with the recently made bread. “Let’s go.” Pigeon followed, panting and moving his tail excitedly. Shepherd dogs were a smart breed but Pigeon was something else. He understood him.

Most of the inns in Betren were in the new town, outside the walls of the river island, but Ipar chose to sleep in the only one inside. He enjoyed walking through the narrow cobbled streets, looking at the old houses. The same ones that Knights and mages used during the Ages of Magic. Progress was unstoppable and the old town changed a bit as well. Since the Royal road from the Plains was rebuilt a few years back, commerce with Gothia improved, and with merchants, modernity arrived.

The times when mages ruled were gone. Magic was slowly fading from the world, and humans turned their hopes to something else. Technology. Now they had devices to speak in the distance with no need of telepathy or guns that did not require elemental powers to spit fire and lead.

All the sheep pens were outside the walls where the new town was growing. The plains ranchers had already sent thousands of their sheep to graze the meadows of the Isil valley during the season. Ipar was going to meet Arnau, the man who assigned each flock to its shepherd. All the sheepmen worked around Isil, but not Ipar. He was a boy from Arun-Val. No one else except him dared to bring their animals there. It was one of the last places where magic and its creatures still roamed free.

He crossed the gateway through the city walls with fast steps. He was excited to find out how many sheep he could herd that year. Four years back, when he followed his father’s steps, he got a flock of only fifty heads. He didn’t mind as he never learned the craft well from his old man. All that changed when Pigeon appeared from nowhere. Now he could handle more than a thousand sheep with only one dog.

The long stone bridge that connected the walled town with the river bank was filled with banners of gold and maroon. The colors of Muwallad. The people of Berten were always proud that their city never fell under any army for thousands of years. But, it always surrendered under the fear of Mage’s power. Now, without many powerful mages left, they feared artillery even more, and the town always changed sides, depending on what army was closer.

“I was waiting for you, boy,” said Arnau, who was leaning over the stone railing. “Listen, there are no sheep for you this year, I’m deeply sorry.”

Ipar stopped in shock. Pigeon, seated next to him, stared at the man and growled. Arnau raised his hands to calm the animal. “Easy Pigeon, easy. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. The ranchers didn’t send as much as other years, The little we have will graze the lands around the city.”.

“Is it because of the war?” asked Ipar.

“No, This last month there had been attacks over the valley. Beast and men alike. They found old Pol quartered over the pond’s plain. A dip they say it is.”

Ipar snapped his teeth and moved his head from side to side. Pigeon barked loudly. A bark that gave Ipar goosebumps. Dips were dangerous dogs from the Hells with black fur and red glowing eyes that attack at night anything alive and if its victim was a poor folk, it would drag their soul to the Hells with it. If Pigeon was barking, it meant nothing good.

“Well, this is a problem of Isil. Not Arun. I can still bring the flock-”

“Listen,” interrupted Arnau. “The ranchers know how good you and your dog are. Damn if I know how you manage! But they think all this is a bad omen. Arun is a wicked place. If things are bad here, there will be worse.”

The man left with more apologies and Ipar remained there, looking at the river.

“What are we going to do this year then?” He asked to the dog. The animal answered with a cry.

He started his way back, as it was a long journey, and he wanted to reach his valley before dark. He was at the end of the bridge when he saw a gathering of people. At the main road, there was a carriage with no horses or mules. The boy’s first thought was that it may have had an accident, and the animals ran away. He circled the crowd, committed to continuing south, but the group suddenly opened up, putting him in front of the two people in the middle.

One was the Mayor of Betren dressed with his suit and a red and yellow sash. Next to him, there was a woman. She was tall and beautiful. She was wearing a silk maroon dress with a headscarf of the same color that covered almost all her hair. Her eyes, of golden color and surrounded by a black line of makeup, were fixed on the shepherd boy. They were fascinating and disturbing at the same time. She approached the boy little by little. Her bracelets and ornaments jingled with every step. The mayor was following her like a puppy dog.

“Who is this boy?” asked the woman. It shocked the mayor she had any interest in a simple shepherd from the mountains.

“Your highness, this is Ipar, a good kid from the next Valley, did he do anything that displeased you?” Said the mayor nervously. “Ipar, did you do one of your grimaces to the Lady?”

Ipar negated with his head. The Mayor blew. ” To you is talking Lady Azahara Affan. A Major mage from Muwallad. She is going to the Great Plains of Gothia to help to end the war.”

The Lady raised her hand, ordering the Mayor to stop talking. “Is this boy a mage?” she asked.

“No your eminence, he is just a shepherd from The Arun-val, no one from there has the magic.”

The woman turned her head to the side slightly and narrowed her eyes.

“Wasn’t there a kid from the valley of Arun that had the mark? The only one in a thousand years?”

“Oh, yes. Oihane.” said the Mayor. Ipar felt uncomfortable. That was a name he didn’t want to remember. “Strange case of hers,” continued the man. “They accused her of witchcraft at a young age, and they found out she had the mark under her hair all the time! Incredible, isn’t it?” The woman smirked. The story of the mayor didn’t amuse her and, trying to please her, the man continued talking. “Ipar here is a friend of hers. Right, Ipar?”

Ipar shrugged. Oihane used to be more than a friend to him, he was deeply in love with her but she never felt the same. Since he was twelve, he was determined to propose as soon as they were at age. But she didn’t wait. When the town discovered that she had the mark of mages, she left without saying goodbye.

“Is that so?” said Lady Azahara with a glimpse of interest that pleased the mayor.

The mage turned her head to the side once again. It was a strange mannerism that seemed normal to everyone present, but not to Ipar. He had the feeling of cold on his neck. It was subtle, not as strong as when Pik was around, but enough to understand that she was listening to something invisible to the common human eye.

The boy was almost certain the woman had a Familiar with her. Pigeon was not always running around like a dog. When he pleased, he would wander around invisible. It was only then when Pik, as he liked to be called in that state, would talk to him.

“Where is your dog?” asked her. Ipar felt butterflies in his stomach. He realized that the mage’s familiar could see Pigeon’s true self.

He looked around, but his dog was gone. “He is here and there. I don’t have a leash on him.” Ipar answered, relieved that his secret was safe.

“Right, right,” said the mayor with a nervous chuckle.” Shepherd dogs are always wandering around your eminence. But it is not dangerous, I can tell. Good dog, his Pigeon.”

“I see, that’s interesting,” said her.

“Is it?” said the mayor, confused.

The woman walked away with fast steps and entered her carriage. The coachman closed her door gently, and she pulled down a glass from the door. “I may come to visit you one day, Ipar the shepherd.” She said. The mayor bowed and the crowd waved farewells.

The carriage moved without the help of any animal, making a terrible noise. It was the first time Ipar saw a mage do their magic.

Ipar ignored the Mayor, who was scolding him for something he didn’t do and started his journey back to his Valley. The Royal Road was once a simple trek that followed the Isil river; now it was a broad and flat path of gravel that made the journeys to the Plains much easier. Ipar would have taken the small trek of the hills if he had a flock, as the new road was much more convenient for the merchants’ carriage, but not for the animals that preferred to walk the grass and soft soil of the meadows. It didn’t matter now. He had no flock to guide, and the gravel road was faster.

He left behind the town’s walls and the plowed fields nearby. Before long, he was walking through the fields that would lead him to the Giant’s seat. The mountain pass was the only human way to enter Arun-Val. It was a tedious climb that took inexperienced travelers more than a day. But the valley folk, knowing all the correct ways, could take it in a day. As soon as he passed by the Sole farm, he felt the familiar’s presence. It was an icy feeling at the back of his neck, like if Mother Winter herself blew softly behind him.

“What will we do? What will we do?” said Pik.

“I don’t know,” answered the shepherd.

“No, no, no, no. I need the sheep, We need them, yes.”

“There are a lot of things I need to count. I cannot do it by myself.”

“I’ll do it, yes. I can do it.”

“Arnau said they have few sheep, I wonder how many. Can you check?”

Pik took a minute to answer. “Pik?” asked the boy.

“Is the mage woman still around?” said the familiar.

“Does she scare you?” mocked Ipar.

“Not her. The jinn.”

“What’s that?”

“A genie. It was like a purple mist that surrounded her. It smelled like fear and anger. A dangerous deal that woman has made. Dangerous, dangerous. I will go count sheep now. I will count cows and pigs. That would be useful to you as well, yes? Yes?”

“Definitely.” said Ipar “Pik Wait! Pik?” shouted Ipar.

“What? What? I’m busy now. I have a job to do. What?”

“When Arnau talked about the dip. Why did you bark? Do we need to be worried?”

“I was laughing. Ha!. A dip he said! Ha! You, humans, are so stupid.”

“What is it then?” asked Ipar, concerned. Pik took his time to answer. And when he did, the tone of his words were the ones of a lie.

“I… don’t know.”

Ipar was getting tired. “And do any of the other little folk know anything?”

“Ha! The little folk he said! What a way to refer to one. That is a very general and imprecise term. But no. They haven’t talked to me since I first talked to you. I’m an outcast.”

I wonder why you did that. Talk to me, I mean.”

“Because I like you, Ipar. You are my friend. I don’t like the other Follets. Any of them. They are not my friends. Can I go now? Can, can?”

“Yes, go,” Ipar said, waving his hand with disdain.

“By the way, Uhaiz Mummy is in the creek. I can see her, but you don’t. She needs your help. Go and help. Bye. Go.”

The feeling on his neck disappeared, and the boy rushed towards The creek of the tired ones. It was a small stream where people used to stop before starting the ascent up the mountain pass. There, resting under the shade of a tree, was Miss Zelaya. She didn’t look in distress, and Ipar cursed at his familiar for the prank.

“Ipar! Where are you going so fast?” asked her, excited to see him.

The kid raised his shoulders. “I just want to go back earlier.”

” Where are your sheep?” asked her.

“No flock this year.”

“Is that so? It’s because of the monster wolf, isn’t it?” She said without waiting for an answer. The woman jumped up and after shaking her skirt she took a large sack and walked. She was a small woman, and the bag was half her size. “No time to waste with monster wolves around. Want to join this old lady up?” she said with a smile.

“You are not old, Miss Zelaya. And yes, I join you on the climb. With a condition.” Miss Zelaya stopped and looked at him with her eyes wide open. “That you let me help you with that sack.”

The woman burst in a laugh and let the kid take the big bag. It was a bulky sack, but not as heavy as the boy thought. “Did you travel to Betren yesterday?” Asked the shepherd.

“No, two days ago. I had a lot of supplies to buy.”

“Is Uhaiz taking care of the Inn?”

“He is! You know him. Clumsy, but a hard worker. Old Titu has an eye on him, not to worry.” After a moment to take a deep breath, she looked at the young shepherd out of the corner of her eye and continued talking. “Old Titu also watches over him at night. The old man doesn’t sleep at all, and I promised him a beer a day for a week,” she said with forced joy. She looked at the floor. Her lips were smiling, but Ipar could see the sadness in her eyes.

Miss Zelaya’s life was a sad story everyone in the Valleys knew. But that never stopped her from being the most hopeful and cheerful person Ipar ever met. When she was the same age as Ipar now, she married the village tavern’s keeper. A moody man, no one but her loved. Uhaiz, her first child, was Ipar’s best childhood friend. A cheerful and funny boy, always ready to play pranks on old men. An ordinary simple kid, like all the rest in the valley.

Sadly, that was not the case of their second. A changeling they call it. Nim, as Miss Zelaya called him, was deformed in an unpleasant manner, and the old tales always said that when a kid was born different, it was because the Goblins changed the human baby with one of their own.

Miss Zelaya’s husband and all the town told her she had to leave the baby in the forest, where it belonged. But she never did. She loved the kid anyway. With all her love. His husband never did. He mistreated him and her too for not wanting to get rid of him.

Years passed and Nim, Uhaiz, and Ipar grew. Nim was a funny toddler, limping and growling around. But good-hearted and lovely. Uhaiz, like his father, didn’t like him much and treated him with contempt behind his mother’s back. Then, one night, when Uhaiz was ten and his brother five, the Changeling followed the call of his kind and disappeared in the woods to never come back.

Miss Zelaya was devastated and her husband, corroded with guilt for having treated her and her son so badly, went mad and died shortly thereafter. Miss Zelaya, left with a tavern and a son, could have sunk in madness as well, but she didn’t. She raised her firstborn alone and changed the tavern to an inn. A business that didn’t do too well, but her hard work and persistence gave her enough to keep going.

Uhaiz, always was more like his father, and shortly after his brother’s disappearance, changed. He became taciturn and lonely. Stopped talking to Ipar for good and the worst of all started to wander around at night. First, his mother thought the kid was looking for his brother out of sadness. But soon she realized her son was night walking, as possessed by spirits of the night. She couldn’t barely leave his side at night. Or on occasions like that same day she met Ipar, leaving someone to take care of him.

“Miss Zelaya,” said the boy.

“Amane, you silly! No need to be formal. Just Amane.” said her. Ipar regretted what he was going to ask and remained quiet. “What is it? You are worried about the season, do you?”

“A bit.” He said.

“It’s fine, Ipar. You are a great shepherd. I’m sure the Ikur or Aner families can hire you to bring their cattle to the highlands. The grass is better there than around Lamna-Lac.”

She was right, grass was always better in the mountains. But even if the locals agreed to hire a shepherd they didn’t need, that wouldn’t be enough.

In the plan of the giant foot, Ipar saw the small shelter for shepherds that used to bring the herds there. No one used it anymore, but it was still in good condition. If he had brought sheep, he would have spent the night there and continued to the valley the next day.

“Miss Zela… Amane. I was wondering if you could let me sleep at the Inn tonight. It will be late and tomorrow I want to ask around the town.”

“No problem. Not that I have a full house, right?” she said with a laugh. “Consider it a payment for your help with the supplies.”

They spent the rest of the climb in silence. Ipar was not tired at all. He was used to walking long distances through the mountains. Amane was having a hard time, though. She was constantly blowing and wiping the sweat from his face, red with exertion. From time to time flocks of her brown hair fall over her face and she would take the moment to catch a breath and rearrange her ponytail.

Ipar noticed some gray hair was showing. It didn’t change the fact that she was a pretty woman. Since she was widowed, many were the men that asked her to marry. Some from Arun, many from Isil, and even wealthy merchants from the outside world. She accepted none of them. ‘My heart belongs to my kids now,’ she used to say. ‘The one I have and the one I don’t.’

It was before midday when they reached the top of the pass. They stopped for a meal. The sun was hitting hard, but the wind was refreshing.

The way down took them longer, and they did it in silence as well. When they reached the border of the lake, the sun was already behind the mountains and dusk was over them. The way to the village was a dirt track that followed the lake at one side and meadows and small patches of forest to the other. Every time they were close to the woods, Amane would speed her pace. She didn’t like the forests and was easily scared by the sounds of it. As the dark grew, she became more spooked. And by the midpoint to the village of Endara, she was walking with her eyes fixed on the floor, whispering prayers to the gods.

Ipar was used to the woods and beasts. Magical or not. His father always taught him how to avoid the dangers of the mountain. People in the valley used to say that he was fearless, but that was not true. Sometimes he was afraid.

When they passed next to the old church ruins, he raised his steps even faster than Amane, and both looked at the floor for a while together. That church was a failed attempt to bring the gods of Gothia to the valley a hundred years ago. It didn’t work, as the gods of the vale were stronger in their people’s hearts. Now, the abandoned building was a rat shelter and the legend said the worst spirits hunted it.

With the crescent moon on their heads, they reached the village and soon the Inn. Endara was a set of randomly laid houses, without streets or modern facilities, like electricity or sewerage systems. The buildings were all carved from the same pattern. Strong rock walls and black slate stone roofs. They were all surrounding what the townspeople used to call the Town square, which was just a plane with a little water well in the middle. The village had thirty-five houses, including the farmhouses around the lake, the town hall, and the old gods’ church.

The population was twenty neighbors, who were the heads of household and who decided everything about the valley, and hundred souls. Ipar knew that number as well as how many cows and pigs, chickens, and other unuseful things thanks to Pik, who counted everything many times and reminded him constantly.

When they entered the inn, Ipar felt the warmth of the fireplace like a blessing. He didn’t visit the place for many years, but it looked the same. Uhaiz was standing behind the old tavern bar cleaning a glass reluctantly.

Ipar noticed how much his old friend changed. He did see him grow tall the previous years, always waving to each other from afar. But a long time passed since the two were that close.

“Look who I bring with me, Uhaiz!”, said Amane. Uhaiz greeted them with a raise of his eyebrows.

At the table next to the fire, there were two people eating dinner. “Still here?” Whispered Amane to her son.

“They paid for two more weeks,” answered Uhaiz.

Amane could barely contain his excitement and chuckled. Ipar looked at the table. The two foreigners were dressed in strange clothes That the boy didn’t know from were. The tall and muscular man had long hair tied in a ponytail and a big bushy beard. He was old enough that his hair, once blonde, was now halfway to grey. With him, there was a girl who was not older than the shepherd. She had a long mane that reached to the floor and it was of a blonde so bright it seemed white.

“Come Ipar, sit next to them, the fire will warm you and I'll bring you some food.”

Old Titu was entering when Ipar sat at his table. “Hoi woman! One ale here!” Shouted the old man with a cracked voice.

“Didn’t my boy give you one today?”

“Heh? No, he didn’t!”

“Titu, this is an inn. The food and drinks are for the people that are here overnight.”

“Your son gave ales to Pere and his anglers this afternoon and they are not sleeping here.” said the old man sitting next to the door.

“Is that so?” said Amane, glancing at his son who couldn’t hold his gaze. Uhaiz left the glass and walked away to the pantry. "don’t go to sleep yet dear, I'll cook something for you!" Said her mother.

“You promised me an ale a day,” shouted Titu once again. Ipar wondered if the old folk used to shout all the time before he became almost deaf.

When Amane brought him the glass, Titu smiled, showing his only teeth. He looked around and raised his eyebrows when he saw the shepherd. “Ipar! Long time no see, boy!” He raised his beer to greet him and Ipar waved timidly. “You see, woman? Ipar is in here!”

“Oh, I didn’t notice. Hi Ipar.”, said Amane.

The old man surveyed the rest of the compound and his eyes narrowed as he saw the foreigners. The valley people didn’t like foreigners, but they were accustomed to seeing new faces from time to time. Specially mage apprentices that came to Arun looking for their magic source, or hunters looking for the same. Ipar saw many of these people in the mountains. Most of them wander around lost, and sometimes dead by the dangers of the mountains.

“Oi, Norseman. Did you find the wolf?” Shouted old Titu to the big blonde man.

The man ate a spoon of his lentils stew and a sip of his ale before answering. “No,” he answered in a deep voice.

“Do not annoy my customers, geezer,’’ said Amane.

“Just asking, just asking. The foreigners are looking for the father wolf. Ha! Like you can find him easily. The father cannot be found! Ha!”

“Then I will keep looking.” Said el man clenching his fists tightly. Amane moved fast to his side.

“Oh sir, I’m sorry, do not listen to that old man-“ the Norseman raised his hand and turned to her with a smile on his face that didn’t match his wild look.

“Miss,” he said in a warm tone. “Not to worry. I’m not here to fight. Your stew is delicious, and the ale is fantastic. I will have one more round. I’ll pay, of course.”

Amane left the man's side while the girl whispered to him. Whispers that he replied with a nod. Ipar was staring at them, full of curiosity, until she notices him and stared back with penetrating blue eyes. Her gaze made him look away uncomfortable.

When Amane brought the food and drinks, the mysterious girl whispered again to the old man. “My daughter says you are a brave woman.” Said the foreigner man.

“Oh, thank you, dear. But I am not.” Said Amane.

“Your son says you go alone to the next valley every year. And come back late at night. That’s really brave.”

Amane chuckled and tucked her hair behind the ear. “Well, I was terrified! Ipar here can tell.”

“Miss. Wandering dangerous places without fear is the doing of idiots or madmen,” said the man. “Being afraid and doing it anyway is the doing of the brave.”

Amane smiled with sadness. Ipar could not tell if it was because the man reminded her of her husband or her son.

“Ipar can help you! He’s a shepherd and knows all the treks of this valley!”

“We need no guide,” said the Norseman, sipping his cup.

“Well, it’s dangerous out there. And Ipar knows how to find and how to avoid any dangerous creature of Arun.” said Zelaya, putting her hands over the boy’s shoulders. Ipar didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to join such an endeavor, as the father Wolf didn’t want to be found. But that season he would not make any money at all, and the job could help.

The girl whispered to his father, and he replied with a grout. He finished his glass and stood. “Will five Royals from Gothia suffice?”

“That’s fifty Novels, Ipar.” whispered Zelaya. It was almost what he would make in a whole year.

“Fine. I will go with you.” said reluctantly the shepherd.

The man walked upstairs, and the girl followed him. “Very well, then. Tomorrow dawn we will go find the Big Wolf.”