I stared at Gurlon, confused and about to ask how he knew, when I saw a glitter in his eyes. The corner of his mouth curled up a bit, and deep lines cropped up across his face. What the hell was going on? When I kept quiet, he barked a laugh before his face turned impassive again.

"Good. Don't let yourself be baited so easily. It's unbecoming of a Prime. Or any warrior for that matter," he added belatedly. "Now… you want some answers, and I can provide them, but before I do, I need some answers of my own."

I should have guessed, I thought as I took a look at Bastian. He was observing our conversation calmly and shrugged. Yeah, now that's useful, I thought as I sighed and turned back to Gurlon.

"What question would that be?" I asked wearily.

Gurlon leaned forward a bit, looking at me as if he was trying to read my mind.

"The city your people are building in the Shallow Gale mountains… would others be welcome there?" he asked softly.

I stared back at him in surprise, completely taken aback by the question. I'd expected something about Rathica, or perhaps about myself. Not something to do with Steadfast. I wasn't sure why anybody would want to know something like this. Did he plan on moving there? For one moment I thought he was joking, then I saw his unblinking stare and realized he was being serious. Quietly I looked at the ground and began thinking.

Would they? Would humanity be welcome to other people arriving at their -potentially- last refuge? Welcome to beings that, in some cases, barely resembled what they knew. Besides, they were probably under constant attack. Would they even trust them, let alone welcome them?

I realized I had no idea. I didn't know what the others were even doing, or who they were and what they might think of the races of Kernstalion. Perhaps they would find them backwater and barbarous? I hadn't even been to Steadfast yet, and by now, leaders would have been chosen. I knew firsthand that there were monsters among humanity. What if those were there?

No, I thought suddenly. Rathica wouldn't have picked those. She said she chose those with whom she had an affinity!

After another moment, I realized even that wasn't entirely right. Rathica had picked up those straggler souls. Who knew what those were like? Slowly, the desire to go and see what humanity was doing increased, mixed with fear of what I might find.

"I don't know for sure," I finally admitted. Gurlorn had been quietly staring at me all this time, and I was surprised by his patience. "I've been on missions for a long time. Why?"

Gurlorn leaned back and sighed. "A shame."

Somehow, against my common sense, his words rubbed me the wrong way, and I couldn't help but interject.

"My people might not welcome just anyone there, but they aren't known to leave someone helplessly in the wild," I said.

It wasn't entirely true, but I hoped Rathica had chosen those who were like that. If she hadn't? Well, history had shown just what we were capable of doing.

Gurlorn didn't reply, his eyes drifting around as if he was thinking of something. Then he shook and looked at me. "I guess it would have been too much to hope. No matter. I'll send someone to your people to try and get communications going. Can you write me a letter of recommendation so your leaders will hear me out?"

"I can," I said, knowing my status as Rathica's first and main Prime should give me at least some clout. "If you explain why you want it."

"I need a refuge for my people," Gurlorn said. "This city, even if it withstands the current siege, won't survive the upcoming storm. It's too close to the coast."

The coast? What does that have to do with anything? I thought.

"If you want my help, I think you are going to have to explain what is going on," I said as a slight headache flared up. "And how many people are we talking about?"

"Roughly five-hundred here," Gurlorn said. "But if others hear there is a safe refuge, more will likely find their way."

Before I could react, he turned to Bastian and pointed at a cupboard on the far wall. "Pour us a drink. If I'm to explain this, I'll need something to wet my throat."

Bastian looked surprised and confused but, like before, did as ordered. A few moments later, I held a thick crystal glass with a dark green, syrupy liquid. A sniff told me it was way strong and spicey.

"I hadn't planned on any of this yet, but one can't ignore a possible opportunity of this magnitude," Gurlorn said as he looked at the glass while swirling the liquid. "I take it you have heard that Nimron has returned?"

"I have," I said, wondering what that troublesome Deity had to do with all of this.

"Everything," Gurlorn said, his silvery eyes glittering. "No, no, I can't read your mind. You carry your thoughts on your face too much." He grinned crookedly, showing an odd sense of humor.

I just gazed at him, not interested in fun and games, and slowly the old man's grin disappeared. His grin faded, and he nodded solemnly.

"As Bastian might have told you, I am one of those that survived the butchering of Croalich," Gurlorn said, taking a small sip before continuing.

"I'll save you the dramatic details and get to the point. Due to many situations, not the least being Ellison's bitch queen, we have never been able to find a place to rebuild. However, our constant search has left us in a rather unique position. We have people in almost every port, large city, and even most smaller settlements, creating a massive information network. So, when things began changing rapidly, a few months ago, we noticed."

Gurlorn slowly bent forward, his back cracking and snapping.

"We noticed when half of the nobility and shadowy figures up and vanished. We heard when the big three stopped responding to their Primes, and our network went abuzz when our old Deity resurfaced and decimated the old ruling order."

A spy network, I thought as I realized that Gurlorn and his people might actually be very welcome in Steadfast. The thing they likely lacked was information, and it seems Gurlorn could provide that. I kept my thoughts to myself for now.

Gurlorn's face turned ugly as he seemed to remember something.

"When your kind showed up, rumors also came to us, but we, I, didn't think they were true. Until now…" Gurlorn stared hard into my eyes, taking a slow sip of his glass.

I wasn't sure if he wanted a reaction or was thinking. But I was confused. I hadn't heard many details about Croalich, but what he told me matched what I'd learned. Also, I realized that even more people knew about the things that happened than I had even imagined a few hours before. But, how was this related to him wanting to leave Tenziran and with the sea?

"Alright," I finally said, taking the bait. "And what does this have to do with leaving this city or the coast?"

"There is a war of some kind brewing below the Demon Infested Sea," Gurlorn said, inspecting me as if he wanted to see my reaction. When I showed none, he continued. "Before their Croalich Diaries turned to ash, we got word from our people that the seas were becoming redder, and Demonic Surges were occurring all along the Fastris border."

Croalich Diaries? Ash? I wasn't sure what he meant, but I had the idea it had to do with communication.

Gurlorn fell back in his chair again, his gaze turning even more intense.

"The last message I got from the far west was that they were fleeing inland. I warned them about the armies, but... they fled straight into the clutches of that bitch queen's armies. They knew they were there, but they simply had no other choice. It was the demons or the armies. They chose the former and were slaughtered."

"Damn," I muttered as I leaned back.

Automatically, and without paying attention, I took a drink.

A burning hot sensation tormented my tongue. I instinctively swallowed, and my eyes widened as the stuff burned its way down my throat. I coughed. Sweat appeared on my forehead, and I hastily placed the glass on the table. Gurlorn was just looking at me, not showing any reaction to my little trouble. From the pain in his eyes, I wasn't sure he even noticed.

"I have no idea what is happening in those waters, but I think Fastris as we know it might not exist in a few more weeks, months at most. With some luck, the demons will wipe out the Nailhounds and the other Legions, but that won't help us. That is why I need a haven for my people."

I quietly thought about what he said, absently noting that my head seemed clearer instead of more muddled after the potent drink. A swirling hot sensation sat in the pit of my stomach.

"Aren't you afraid of Nimron? He has sent the Grammanite army to lay siege to our city," I said when I had collected my thoughts.

"Even if you go there, you would be simply swapping one besieged city for another."

Gurlorn's eyes widened, and his mouth fell open.

"May the Nail Queen rot on Leralion," he suddenly spat as he slammed his fist into his armrest. The liquid in his glass sloshed across the edge, dripping on the ground. A shudder ran through him, and his face paled as he slumped back into the chair as if the outburst had taken all the energy he had.

"I'd not heard that ancient freak was aiming for your people," he said. "This changes things. I can't send my people somewhere only for them to be in the crosshairs of a crazy Deity."

Gurlorn seemed to shrink before my eyes, and he shakily took another drink. The previous sharpness in his eyes faded, and his mind seemed elsewhere.

"That settles it," Bastian suddenly stated. He looked at Gurlorn with deep sadness, but his jaw seemed set.

"I'll be taking the others and leave for the south," he said.

"Are you insane?" Gurlorn hissed. "You would go through the Howling Forest, risk its dangers, only to end up where? In that rotten, chaos-infected wasteland? Why? There is nothing there!"

"Precisely," Bastian said. "Nothing, no Nailhounds, no Nimron, no nothing. I don't believe they will go there anytime soon, not with so much left to conquer in the north. Come with me, Gurlorn! There is room there for you and your people!"

Gurlorn's lined gray eyes narrowed as he looked at the glass, taking another sip. As he did, I noticed that his hand had stopped shaking. Bastian kept staring at him, and I could almost feel him willing Gurlorn to agree.

I continued observing both, feeling slightly out of my place. There was obvious history between them, but even if that hadn't been the case. I knew little of leading people or war. If it was up to me, I'd have searched for a deep hole below a mountain to hide. Actually, if I'd been sure that Boglodon was safe, I could have suggested that. As I thought of the city, I realized it was time for me to create another statue of Rathica. If there were any chance to contact her, that would be it.

"They will just die there," Gurlorn finally said with a sad sigh and a shake of his head. Still, I saw the doubt on his face.

Bastian frowned, looking at the hands in his lap. His steady gaze faltered as if the old man's denial took the wind from his sails. I'd not seen him this uncertain before, and I wondered about their history. Without having planned it, I found myself interjecting.

"I don't know all that is going on here," I said. "But if you have been searching for such a long time and haven't found a place for your people, isn't it time to try something else?"

Gurlorn looked at me, his gray eyes piercing into mine, almost hungering for a way out. I quickly continued, hoping my words would help.

"You've told me this place won't be safe, either from the army at its gate or demons from the sea. That means you and your people need to leave. Either you stay, go north, go east or south," I said. "Of those choices, I can guarantee that going south is doable. I've been there and passed through the Howling Forest twice."

Gurlorn's eyebrows shot up, and he leaned forward again, his hands tapping the armrests. It astonished me how mobile he was at such an old age. If his body had been able, I wondered if he'd been pacing around.

"You have? I've got so little information from there. None of our people dared venture there. Those few I asked to go, and did, never made it alive."

"Why not take one of the caravans?" I asked, confused.

"Those are infrequent and hard to join," Gurlorn said. "Besides, many wouldn't hire Groalich survivors for fear of repercussions. And no matter what this abode might imply, I don't have to wood for it."

"Well, I was in Sart," I said, not willing to give up yet. "And although life was hard there, and Goblins sometimes came from the Howling Forest, it seemed peaceful compared to what I saw after I reached the north."

"Sart… Sart. Why does that seem so familiar," Gurlorn muttered. Then his hand rose, and his eyes widened. More drink poured from his glass and onto the ground from the erratic move. "The mine! A few decades ago, they found some rare metal mine. Right, right. I remember. But the vein ended up being tiny, not worth the effort, and everyone left again. So, that town is still around?"

"It is," I said.

Gurlorn nodded as he began muttering. He raised his glass for another drink, a confused look crossing his face when he found it empty.

"Fine," he suddenly said, looking back to Bastian. "If, and I won't force them, but if the others want to follow you, I'll support this. Will you protect them?" Gurlorn said.

"Captain, you know I'll never let anything harm them if I can prevent it," Bastian said as he put one hand across the other in a gesture I remembered Haltir making long ago. It had something to do with those Croalich survivors.

Gurlorn watched Bastian, and slowly a smile and a proud look came on his face. "Ahhh, little scout. How you've grown!"

Scout? No, wait! Little? I gaped at Bastian, trying to picture him small and sneaky. My mental image of a scout. It failed miserably. All I saw was a beastly-large man, currently in a thick leather outfit, more armor than coat.

"Fine. I'd hoped for something else, but time is up," Gurlorn said before leaning back again. "It is time the younger ones get out, and our people regroup. Before they completely forget their heritage."

Gurlorn pointed to the far-off wall as he gazed at Bastian. "Bring me the Sending Tomes. It is time to get everyone alerted and have them meet at the nearest pass through the howling forest."

Bastian jumped up and brought a stack of finger-thick, palm-sized books. They were all leatherbound with different symbols on them, and Gurlorn took the top one before handing the next to Bastian.

"Tell them it is time. All that are willing are to meet at the westernmost passage through the Howling Forest," he said.

Bastian nodded, and I watched as both of them began opening books and flickering gestures over a blank page. Then they closed their eyes, and I noticed Bastian's lips move. Lines appeared rapidly on the page, black and smooth.

Like voicemail, I thought, wishing me and my friends had such tomes. I'd need to learn the hand gestures of that spell.

The two continued for a long time, repeating the actions for every book and sometimes for multiple pages. Watching them, I took some careful sips from the glass. I slowly got used to it, sipping it like strong liquor. I smiled as I thought that I should get some for Eliandra. She would appreciate it. It was intense, spicy, and a little sweet.

Between the gentle flipping of pages, popping fireplace, and warmth, I dozed off.

I snapped awake from a massive explosion and the distant rumbling aftershock that shook the room around me. High pitched screaming came from somewhere in the building and more from outside.

"They are attacking the eastern wall," Bastian shouted, his deep voice cutting through the shaking of the building and things crashing to the ground. He stood before his chair, the books in a jumbled mess on the floor.

Gurlorn was still in his chair, pale and staring at the wall in a mixture of annoyance and fear. Almost absently, he rubbed the stumps on his lap.

Running came from the hall, and a moment later, the door burst open just as Bastian and I turned towards it. A tall, lanky woman ran inside, noticed Bastian and me, and stopped in her tracks. Her startling purple eyes scanned the room, quickly finding Gurlorn, and she relaxed again.

"Two Tonkorau have dropped onto the eastern wall, cracking a large hole in it. Those scrawny hags from the queen are rushing towards it. Most of the defense is on the other side of the city. That which is there won't hold out."

"Tonkorau!" Gurlorn hissed as he partially raised from his chair. "How did they even get those!? Those are supposed to be all but extinct."

"By Cinderags vile murderous gut!"

Bastian cursed so loud that all of us turned to him.

"We need to go there," he said as he gazed at me. "They will never be able to kill those things before they bring down the complete wall! If we lose the whole wall, we are done for!"

"What are they?" I asked as I turned to locate the bag with the assassin. It was gone, and my hair stood on end as I swirled around. There was no sight of it.

"The assassin has been taken to cells below the compound," Bastian said as he turned to Gurlorn. "I'll try to stop those things and buy us as much time as I can. Get everyone together and ready to leave and-" he suddenly stopped, seeming to realize he was commanding Gurlorn.

Gurlorn looked back with raised eyebrows as a proud grin crawled on his face. "So, that's what the others see," he said. "No wonder they always follow you! Good boy! You've grown beyond me! Go. I'll do what I still can and get them ready."

Bastian hesitated, then turned to me.

"Do I have time for anything?" I said, suddenly regretting having wasted time sleeping when I could have created a tree and a new body for Casiron.

"No," Bastian stated, sounding utterly sure of himself. "If we don't go there fast, those things will have destroyed such a large part of the wall that any attempt to plug it will be in vain."

He moved towards the door, the lanky woman stepping aside.

"Laysi, take care of him and make sure he doesn't try to be left behind," Bastian said. The woman grinned and nodded. "No worries, tiny, I'll pack him in a bag if I have to!"

"Now, now, don't make it seem like you get to decide that," Gurlorn said, his voice suddenly cold and calculating.

I turned to see him look at the two, his gray eyes shining slightly and a murderous smile on his face. I'd never seen the kind, and I suddenly wondered what he must have been like when he was younger. Lethal. That much was certain.

"Let's go before he bursts a blood vessel," I said, pulling Bastian out of the room. I only just saw a smirk on Gurlorn's face, then we were rapidly running through the hallway.

"So, what are those things?" I shouted as I tried to keep up Bastian's much longer stride.

"They are like demonic siege engines," he shouted. "They are as big as a building, with thick hides and plates on their back. Almost impervious to damage, at least that of normal people."

"The size of buildings? How the hell do you suggest we do something about that?" I shouted, almost stopping in place.

Bastian didn't answer, but his clenched jaw and worried look told me all I needed.

Great, I thought as I jumped through the door opening and after Bastian.

Explosions and crashing sounds, dotted with screams of fear echoed around us, reminding me of the VR-drug-riots a decade before. I sprinted after Bastian, across the yard, up stone stairs, and onto the wall.

"Fucking hell," I said as I came to a dead stop and looked across the blue-tiled rooftops at the wall a few hundred feet away.

Inside a massive hole, debris still flying around, stood two towering green-plated moles. With long tendrils slithering around a freakishly long maw filled with long thin teeth, they were striking at the walls in a frenzy. Pieces of debris the size of a person flew around like pebbles.

"How did you defeat them before?" I whispered as I gazed at them.

Bastian shook his head. "It doesn't matter. We are too late. They have done too much damage. All we can do now is wait until they get enough space to dig down and head back to the deep realm."

The what? I thought as I stared at the titanic destruction in the distance.

"Let's go," Bastian shouted. "We don't have much time."

Before I could answer, he hopped over the edge of the wall.

"Never any rest," I muttered as I jumped after him.