Time passed and Martin’s life fell into routine, he missed his family, wondered how they were doing, but had been told that only after he passed the first gate would he be allowed to leave. As with everything that was new. Thus, it was that he came to learn that there were fifteen gates known, each leading deeper into the realm of the Fae, closer to the Dark, each bringing greater challenges. Fifteen known, but no one knew how many unknow gates there were. He yearned to see his family, but also feared passing through the Gate, but it would mark the end of his training and a road to gaining wealth and renown in the realms. Those Awakened who passed through the Gates and fought celebrated in song and story, heroic bardic chants recounting their legend.

He had returned to Master Anders forge on his one day of rest from every eight. Seven to work, eight to transcend was the motto in the realms, and it was rhythm he fell into easily. He tried again, trying to forge a sword for Hurnith, and ended up spending a week in bed recovering from the Mana backlash. He learned, and his next attempt was more modest, following the advice of the Magisters. It still turned out better than it should have by any rights. He was no great weaponsmith, yet the sword was perfectly balanced, the blade retaining its edge, though that was helped by the rune of cutting he placed in the blade, just above the cross-guard. Hurnith had immediately replaced his old blade with it, in the process swearing eternal friendship.

After his failure with multiple runes when attempting to forge Hurnith’s sword, he did not take a chance again. For Gwynneth who only used a staff, he crafted iron caps, attaching them to an iron wood staff, ensuring it suited her height and reach. On this he placed a rune for speed, allowing her to respond faster to those who would come and interrupt her casting. Kilia favoured stealth, light and quick weapons. He crafted for her a pair of matched fighting knives. Their leaf shaped blades bearing the cutting rune he had placed on Hurnith’s sword. They made for a lethal combination, many cuts coming and bleeding the target. She longed to use them in real combat, instead of just in the training yard.

He stood with his classmates, the four of them being gifted the basic armour they had been training with. The time for them to pass the first gate arrived, to finish their training and join others holding back the dark. Three months had passed since he had first arrived, and he reviewed his status in the Chronicle, thinking of how things had changed since he had been Awakened, how he had changed.

Name: Martin Race: Human Class: Awakened Smith Level 4

Str: 15 Con: 15 Dex: 12 Int: 12 Cha: 12

Skills:

Blacksmithing 10 (Journeyman), Weaponsmithing 10 (Journeyman), Armoursmithing 5 (Apprentice), Smelting 10 (Journeyman), Geology 5 (Apprentice), Hunting 5 (Apprentice), Read/Write 10 (Journeyman). Weapon Skills (Warhammer) 5 (Apprentice)

Stat points: 0 Skill point: 0 Mana Points: 20/20

Rune Skills: Basic Scribe 7(Apprentice), Etch Leather 5 (Apprentice), Etch Metal 5 (Apprentice)

His class-mates had caught up level wise, they were all level 4 now just as he was. He still wondered how the Chronicle worked, how the God Pages worked, but since no one seemed to know he did what others did and wrote it off as the meddling of the Gods.

For three months they had trained together, sweated together, fought together. They had become friends, not always on good terms, but learning that to cooperate meant that they had to trust. They fell into a pattern, Hurnith leading the battle, Martin behind him, strong support but without Hurnith’s combat skills. Kilia wound in and out of the battle. Striking unexpectedly, looking for the correct moment, the strike that would alter the course of the battle. And In the back, protected by her friends, was Gwynneth, her spells slower than their weapons, but offering speed and versatility.

This morning they stood with packs, packed with the necessities of those passing through the gate. Food, warm clothing, bandages and basic healing and medicinal poultices and other necessities of survival. Martin looked at the Golden archway, golden vines decorated it, blending with the green of the forest on the other side, a forest on the outskirts of the Fae realm.

In front of them stood Gard, their weapons master and instructor. He faced them, looking them over- from the weapons they wore to the armour they had chosen, or not chosen, to wear.

“This s the final test of your training. Through the Gate lies the Fae Realm, or at least its outskirts. The test is simple. Pass through and survive there for three days. This gate will remain open, at any time you can return here and step through but to do so before the three days are over is an admission of failure, an admission we will make official by failing you for this task.” He stepped back, looking at the Gate. “Remember, no matter how peaceful it looks, you never know what lies in wait. This being the outskirts, it should be relatively quiet but do not let your guard down. We want you alive, not just fodder for some monster out there. He moved to the side, waving for the class to come forward and step through. As they did, those around them saluted, wishing them luck and a safe return.

As he stepped through, Martin turned his head to wish his new home goodbye, then gathered his courage to step through the Gate and into the unknown.

***

Martin and his three comrades stepped through the gate. He was surprised what he found on the other side, a forest like none he had ever seen before. Large trees towered around him, the undergrowth thick, the ground mulchy beneath him and covered with mushrooms, none of which he recognised. Vines hung down around them, clinging to tree trunks and slung between trees. It was not what he was expecting, where were the menacing enemies of the dark that he was expecting?

Hurnith clapped him on the back while drawing a deep breathe. “Breathe it in, my father always said the air of the Fae realm was finer than ours! Smell it, it is like honey.”

Behind him Gwynneth was cursing. She had folded her wings in as much as she could, putting them down beneath a leather cloak. In this environment they could all too easily snag on something. They were worse than useless; they were a hindrance. Kilia did not much appreciate the environment either, the spongy ground sucking at her feet, making moving stealthily harder and emitting tell-tale squishing sounds if not moving slowly.

Martin did not feel uncomfortable. It was denser than the forest he knew, had parts that were unfamiliar, but not too unfamiliar to make it completely foreign. He had to agree with Hurnith, the air did smell invigorating. He smiled, looking around, and thinking that this was his first time going into a realm knowingly, all the other times he had merely followed others in ignorance. Behind him, Kilia as their scout consulted the map they had been given, their first task to travel to the Fae village. An introduction to this realm. Three days travel through the forest to the village and then back home and onto their graduation. Kilia started walking, the others following behind. Martin re-seated his pack and followed.

The day passed uneventfully. The forest was warm and humid, the sun hidden behind the forest canopy heating it up. Clouds of midges were a nuisance and they are all sweated profusely. Their waterskins running dry was not an issue, frequent rivulets of sweet water supplied them with plenty of moisture and the ability to keep their waterskins full. The sharp eyes of Kilia and Hurnith saw the animal paths through the forest, though they stayed off them on the chance that predators were more likely to stalk their prey where they could expect them to be. Martin thought it too cautious, the paths looked easier to travel on.

“Why not travel on the animal paths? You say the predators will stalk us in there but are much of a threat? There are four of us, and we have all trained.”

“We have trained but a bit! We are not even truly apprentices yet regardless of what out classes may say. But even if we were, these are predators in the realm of the Fae, they are more intelligent and stronger than the ones you know.”

Gwynneth explanation elicited a nod from Hurnith and a sharp “SHHH” from Kiia.

They stopped soon after as the sun began to dip on the horizon wanting to make camp before nightfall. A slightly clearer are of underbrush make a good place to erect a canopy as cover. The soft ground made for a comfortable bed and covered with an oiled leather blanket the damp was kept out. They ate cold food, not wanting to attract any creatures, or enemies, that might be around. A simple watch order was set and Martin, being on the first watch, settled down scanning around the area, alert and wide awake with the newness of it all.

Dawn was felt only in the darkness of the forest slowly getting lighter as the rays of the sun diffused through the trees and undergrowth. Martin woke, scratching at insect bites that indicated he as tasty to at least some of this world’s denizens, he just hoped that did not mean he would be as tasty to anything larger.

The day started much as the one before ended. A simple meal and they started once again on their way. Two more days of travel lay ahead, and all hoped it would be quiet.

***

Shilek looked down from his platform into the forest below. In the branches of the forest behind him platforms held the homes of the Fae who had left the ground for the safety above. Shilek and the other guards sat and watched, not just in front, but all the approaches, watching the tree trunks for anything that might try to gain access up them, just as others watched from the boughs near the top for those approaching from the air. He tried to stay alert, but time passed, eyes got weary and the mind slowed. He watched, and in his tiredness, he failed to see the black blur that darted up a trunk, entering into the lower boughs of the trees.

The creature that made the blur moved slowly, silently, sticking to the shifting shadows from the branches and leaves blowing in the winds. K’tó moved slowly up, patiently; no deadline existed so he could move as slowly as prudence dictated. He moved upwards, four clawed limbs clinging to the trunk, to branches as it did so, his arms gently moving branches out of the way with fingers tipped with iron claws. The trunk terminated in platform a simple hut on it, a family sharing a simple meal at the end of the day.

“Mother, can I take more?” Little Dorne looked at the pot, his four year old self wanting more of the stew, is favourite which he liked to cover with honey much to the disgust of his elder sister, Jine, who, like his parents, found the combination disgusting but unlike her, indulged the child and did not stop the combination even as her stomach churned. Dorne watched his mother move to the pot sitting on the stove, near an open window that helped remove the smells and smoke from the kitchen. So he was the first to see as something he did not recognise, pushed through the window and through his mother’s chest, pulling back quickly as her blood spurted and she fell forward over the stove, her face burning on the hot plate, as it knocked the remainder of the stew to the ground. Dorne screamed, and the rest of the family turned to look at him, not seeing what was happening behind him in the kitchen. His look of horror and screams got them to turn and look where he was looking, and saw the wall explode inwards, the stove being pushed aside, falling onto the Fae woman’s body, coals falling out, starting to burn into the wooden floor, setting her cotton clothing alight.

K’t’o was revealed, his very aspect horrifying to the family. He stood on four legs, each heavily muscled and covered in grey scales, his torso and arms covered in the same scales, his hands six fingered, sharp iron claws dripping blood onto the floor. His head egg shaped with a sharp bone crest, his face sharp bone ridges, his eyes recessed behind bone ridges, his mouth sharp mandibles that clacked as he approached. The man shouted jumping backwards, putting the table between him and the approaching creature.

“Run, Dorne, Jine, run and get helped.” He screamed shouting, pushing the table before him to try and block the creature’s approach and hoping someone would hear his screams and come to their aide.

K’t’o clicked his mandibles, his hearts beating in his excitement as his legs pushed him forward, his arms crossed in front of him as he smashed his way through the blocked door and over the table. As he reached the other side the man tried to stop him, bellowing loudly why trying to grab him in a bear hug. K’t’o uncrossed his arms, the sharp claws acting like knives as he slashed then across the mans body, one catching his face first, slicing through his cheek, smashing though his jaw sending bone and teeth flying, before coming across his body opening his chest, the other hand came in lower, the claws slashing through skin, ribs and viscera, hooking into intestines and pulling through with them leaving the man eviscerated, bleeding heavily and dying. With glee he sprang forward.

The smaller of the two Fae would be easily caught, and hunger filled K't'o's thought.

Filled with fear, Dorne ran. He heard his father bellowing and did as he had said, he ran. He suddenly felt his sister hand grab him, pushing him forward towards the door while screaming. He did not see what happened but sprinted to the door, running out, the hut beginning to burn behind him.

Jine faced the creature screaming, but only for a while. It watched her, bemused, as she turned to run away. K’t’o watched the Fae’s antics as the small one ran through the door. He sprang forward. Jine had thought she was safe, that the creature was just standing there since it had not moved when she confronted it, but soon found out how wrong she was as she felt it as a claw pierce her side and lift her up, blood spurting, before turning her around. Her last sight was of the mandibles approaching her, filling her eyes as they opened and started to close.