The rush of nocturnal wings whooshed in the otherwise quiet night. The stillness of winter had already settled over the South Kingdom, despite the temperature being moderately warmer than the continent’s Northern brother.

There was no burning fire or coat however, as a particular Lady and her Servicer huddled under blankets for warmth in an abandoned watchtower, with their rescuer sitting comfortably several feet away.

Arlen and Aggie were in the midst bandaging each other’s wounds, while their mysterious new guide seemed content watching the night sky serenely. He didn’t seem anxious from being on the run from a Duke, nor did he seem troubled by the silence, as he had barely spoken a paragraph since they began riding together.

The horses remained tied behind some thick brush around the base of the stone watchtower, which rose up twenty meters off the ground. The tower had been used during the War of Kinds, but had sat empty and almost forgotten in the years following.

“Who did you hit hard enough to cause this amount of bruising?” Aggie remarked puzzled as she carefully wound gauze around Arlen’s hand.

Maverick had apparently prepared for his new company to come with injuries, as he supplied them with water, poultice, and clean rags to treat the soon to be scars. Even after taking care of every mark, no matter how small, there was still an abundance of materials left over.

“Knocking out Harriet did that.” Arlen sighed as his hand ached with growing pain once heat slowly entered his bones and feeling returned to the frozen digits.

“Beast Awares are often stronger and faster than humans- or Servicers unable to blur for that matter.” Maverick’s gaze hadn’t moved from the window when he spoke, but drew the stares of his companions nonetheless.

“Even when they appear mostly human?” Aggie asked frowning. She knew that the Beast Awares she had fought on the Captain’s ship had been stronger true, but Harriet, Borris, and Champ had been more human than Beast.

“Yes. Not as much as the ones who are more obviously Beasts, but still stronger than the average. Harriet’s son showed great restraint when he was knocking you out. He could’ve snapped your neck just as easily.”

Aggie swallowed with great difficulty; her pride was a little pricked.

“It’s one reason why Master Buschi didn’t request Tork to teach the new recruits, I believe. He doesn’t know how to teach what he doesn’t understand.”

“Which is what?” Aggie’s tone turned sharp as she felt herself getting offended on her friend’s behalf.

“What it’s like to be weaker than most. How to fight utilizing your size.”

Aggie’s mouth clamped shut only for a moment.

“He was a great teacher to Arlen and I.”

“I’m sure he did a wonderful job teaching you the basics.”

Aggie growled in her throat at the obvious ducking of the point, which made Maverick turn to eye her with a glint of amusement in his stoic face.

“While you are a somewhat competent brawler Lady Beatha, I happened to see you fighting a few months ago. You had the edge on your opponents in more ways than one. However, it would be unwise to carry any delusions that you would last long in an actual war.”

Aggie’s cheeks burned.

“What do you mean you saw her fight?” Arlen’s voice was slightly louder than normal, and that only made her feel more embarrassed. She didn’t need him coming to her rescue at a time like this…

“I happened to be in one of those seedy pubs that you were showcased in.”

Her stomach clenched painfully.

“You… You watch blood sport?” Aggie’s throat was suddenly incredibly dry.

“I was there for a job, and happened to watch you battle it out. I could tell that they were instructed not to touch your face or… you Lady nonsense.” Maverick gave a nod towards her womb, clearly uncomfortable.

“In a real fight, your skull would have been crushed in seconds. Though you have my sympathies for it not being a voluntary experience, I have heard the bards in the area. I too have had my fair share of… troubles.”

Aggie felt like pummeling the strange man, if it weren’t for her already burning with humiliation and anger.

“I’ve trained with another female Magee fighter, and she said I was doing just fine.” She ground out while clenching her fists, and trying to ignore the fact that he was talking about her time on the ship.

“Who did- Oh. I’m guessing you were with Bonnie and Declan for a time as well? I swear that trio never did well in espionage or subtlety. You now of course know they were all Magee.” He threw up his hands half-heartedly, and shook his head with his eyes closed for a moment as though exasperated by his fellow warriors.

“Bonnie isn’t a pure-human, you must know that. You’ve seen her claws.” Maverick stood suddenly, and walked to the window, his back turned towards them.

“Are you a pure human then?” Arlen demanded as his resentment grew at seeing Aggie’s simmering temper and mortification.

“I am not. I am half-human, half-Fey.”

That stunned him. The closest person to that ratio of lineage had been his friend Killian…

Killian with his ability to sense the pain and feelings, and uncannily sharp eyesight.

“Isn’t there a legend about such a pairing? A pure-human and pure-Fey could inherit both abilities…?” Aggie was suddenly too interested to remember his scathing review of her talents.

“I have heard the rumor, however I have no strong powers from either side. It is possible another being could still inherit pure-human abilities, and that it merely skipped me, but I have no way of discovering that really. Especially given my disposition towards the female kind.”

“You said, ‘strong powers’, were you insinuating that you inherited some powers?” Arlen was quick to pick up the man’s wording, sensing that the Maverick was someone who believed in the power of loopholes.

“I have higher flexibility and agility than most, as well as some other smaller abilities. I also seem to not be aging the same way as my peers. You may have noticed my former classmate Harriet appears to resemble her age far more closely.” He shrugged, and once again appeared far more focused on the night sky.

The pair studied his light brown hair and smooth complexion taken aback. He could’ve passed for Harriet’s son or younger brother easily.

“Are you able to go to Tara?” Aggie was slowly rising to her feet.

“I can find the doorways easier than most, but I still need to pass Chay; the Eyes of the Portals.”

“You know Chay?!”

Maverick gave a rare reaction. He turned from the window with an eyebrow raised, and his mouth pursed.

“How do you know the Eyes of the Portals?”

“I saw him in a tavern, and I experienced Wonder. Then he started taunting Arlen and I- oh, and gave me the Fey bell you returned to me-”

“Chay gave you the Fey bell?” Maverick looked a strange mix of perplexed and concerned.

“Yes?” Aggie glanced at Arlen, wondering if he was feeling as taken aback as she was.

Maverick stared at Aggie while frowning intently-, making her incredibly uncomfortable, even though it was evident that he was somehow not really seeing her, but something else beyond her.

“He gave you a personal line of contact to himself… He means to open a single use Gate from a place of your choosing.”

Aggie was about to try shaking the man if he didn’t start making more sense.

“Speak clearly.” Arlen’s voice rang out in the tower in a commanding tone Aggie hadn’t known him capable of.

This registered with Maverick however, and the man moved his dark intense gaze to him.

“If one of the Fey gives out a bell- which is rare, it is a means to call the Eyes of the Portals to one of the pre-existing gates to Tara, where he could allow them entry. If this came from Chay himself however, that means this will open a portal for a single use anywhere you are when you ring it. It has only been given out twice in history, and only in extreme emergencies.”

Aggie’s mind was whirring with the information.

“Someone rang the bell though when I… When they took it from me, and nothing happened. They said he was drained of power.” She gave her head a shake, ignoring the memory of the Captain.

“Chay drained of pow-?!” Maverick’s elevated voice suddenly dropped off. He suddenly was searching the floor with great concentration for another few minutes, his hand immediately covered his mouth and his eyebrows drawn together.

No one dared interrupt whatever it was he was trying to figure out.

“He made the lake.”

Aggie blinked rapidly in confusion, until she remembered the very lake she had crossed only days before. The lake that had appeared randomly mere months prior.

“What?! Why did he do that?”

“That I haven’t the faintest idea. He is doing many strange things since I last conversed with him. First in giving you the bell, then creating the lake along the border of the Kingdoms… Something is definitely happening. Tork might be a muscle head, but he is right about you after all. You seem to be caught up in something much bigger.” Maverick began stroking his smooth face thoughtfully.

“How long does it take for Chay to regain his power?”

“Every Fey is different, and I have never heard of someone using so much power at once… it could be years-”

“Years?!” Aggie’s desperate cry startled both Arlen and Maverick.

“Yes, though I suppose perhaps his abilities may not be as reliant on his water element, but I really do not know enough. The Fey, as I’m sure you know, aren’t well known for being present to their mix-breed offspring to explain their heritage.” He shrugged, now studying Aggie closely.

“Why do you keep a bell that doesn’t work, and why did he want you to call him?” Maverick tilted his head to the side as he studied her

“I, uh…” Aggie glanced nervously at Arlen.

“Is it because you and the Eyes of Portals are to be lovers?”

Aggie blushed crimson.

“No! Nothing like that, he just… if Arlen and I can go there after we rescue some people, we will.”

A slow smile spread on Maverick’s face.

“You want to free your Servicer. How very noble of you. Why is Chay going out of his way to help you?”

“I don’t know, he seemed really… interested in Arlen.” Aggie’s eyes darted to her companion whom was following the conversation with folded arms, and an unreadable expression.

“Hmm… Chay doesn’t normally work so hard seduce new lovers, so I’m guessing he wants you for political reasons.”

“I am the worst person for politics.” Aggie lifted her hands in dismissal.

“That, I do not find surprising. Your Servicer however, I imagine is trained as well as any King in politics and nuances of the law. What better way to bring a puppy to you than to goad his dim owner into dragging the poor beastie along.”

Arlen moved with a sharp right hook that Maverick blocked easily, and Arlen responded by knocking his head firmly against the Magee’s nose.

A loud screech pierced the air, and a flutter of wings suddenly covered Arlen’s vision as claws swiped the left side of his forehead. He stumbled back, his head gushing blood when a sharp whistle pierced the air.

Aggie had drawn a knife ready to jump in to help Arlen, but ended up only pulling him off as the unforeseen attacker finally settled on Maverick’s shoulder.

“A hawk?!” Aggie exclaimed angrily, while already scooping up gauze, and handing it to Arlen after seeing the wound wasn’t deep or too close to his eye.

She did not like the growing amount of dangers in the tower.

“Yes. This is Windston.”

“Winston?”

“Windston.”

Silence stretched between all of them.

“… Maverick I think I safely speak for Arlen and I, when I say I find you to be a miserable ass. I will admit however… that is a superb name.”

“I think it is too awkward.” Arlen snapped as he took the gauze from Aggie, and pressed it to his head.

“He could’ve taken out your eye, be grateful. Lady Beatha, please hand me some of the gauze.”

Despite not wanting to, she rolled her eyes and obeyed him. It was his supplies after all.

“You must be rubbing off on your Servicer, Lady Beatha. Servicer’s trained in politics, and other scholarly subjects, don’t resort to violence so quickly.”

“Oh he tried implementing non-violent conflict resolution in our dealings, but they never went over well with others.”

Maverick sighed as he dabbed at his bloody nose. After another beat of silence with Arlen glaring, and Aggie crossing her arms, she turned back to the Magee fighter.

“I don’t know your issue with me, but you’ve made me curious. How should I learn to fight better?”

“Be trained by a legitimate teacher. Your past fights were greatly unfair.”

“No fight in reality is exactly fair.”

“A surprisingly good point.” His tone dripped with derision.

“You are such a dickface! Why are you he-”

“Yes, yes. I am not a people person. I prefer working alone. Tork invoked the third part of our oath, and I had no choice.”

Maverick lowered the gauze once he was certain the bleeding had stopped, and stared slightly pained at Aggie as though thinking of something deeply tedious.

“I hate moody teenagers but-”

“I’m twenty-three.”

“Close enough, but I can give you a few pointers. Again, I am a different height and build than you, but I have seen pure-blooded women trained as Magee. Not sure if I’ve met any as small, or lacking any pure-human abilities but-”

“You have no idea how annoying I can truly be.” Aggie narrowed her gaze. He was a bully, but he was one they sadly needed.

Maverick closed his eyes, obviously she was already trying his patience.

“There isn’t time to train you. I need to get you to the South City as quickly as possible, so you can execute whatever hair-brained plan you have to save the future North Queen.”

“We are a ways away yet. In the evenings when we make camp, just give me a few pointers. You’ll be rid of us in a few days.”

Maverick turned to Windston, and they seemed to share an unspoken dialogue.

Unbeknownst to Aggie, Arlen realized that one of the Fey abilities that the Magee fighter had inherited, was the ability to communicate and understand animals.

He knew he would need to be extremely cautious around this new ‘ally’. Particularly because it was abundantly clear that he was not a fan of Aggie’s, and who knew what would happen over the coming days?

***

It was time.

They needed supplies, and then the replenishing of pure humans could begin.

The Thief of Souls turned towards the crowd that he had gathered to descend the mountain. He had chosen the strongest to discreetly purchase what they needed to support the approximately four hundred pure humans he now housed in his cave and tunnels.

Soon, he would begin the breeding, and come the next fall, he would have the first wave of new pure humans.

He had a few Body Magickers that would be able to tell him which of the children bore powers, and then the process could begin again. As much as he hated the idea of supporting infants that were born powerless, he knew that his goals were not to be hastened.

He had roughly two hundred and fifty pure humans that had abilities, and he had already begun experimenting with commanding their powers. He knew he would have to face the pure nobles that had some abilities.

The Southern Queen, Duchess O’Donnel, and Earl Murphy’s youngest son to name a few… but only the Earl’s son- what was his name? Vincent? Victor?

Something to that effect- only the boy had Mind Magick, and to what degree, was unknown.

Despite the presence of his abilities, the boy seemed spineless. According to rumors from a couple of the bodies he had in his control; the boy was known to be fascinated with history. His father had been charged with maintaining the records of the Murphy family tree, and it seemed he desired the position greatly despite it having very little importance.

In all other aspects, the boy was known to be aggressively mediocre.

Though no one could be as useless as his own son…

The Thief of Souls hated to even think of him. The useless laidback boy that amounted to nothing past what he, his father, hadn’t given him.

The Thief of Soul gripped his staff tighter at the memory of the grinning carefree boy that had stared up at him clueless.

The mother had been less than spineless- a blob of tender love and stupidity.

If he could’ve stomached the idea of children, he would’ve taken the child far earlier to mold him more appropriately with the proper view of things. As it was, his son had grown to be just as pointless as his mother.

And pointless he would stay until his fast-coming death.

The Thief of Souls sneered as he turned from the dead stares of his captives, to the North King’s flag in the distance. The winter winds whistled by the mouth of the cave, refreshingly piercing.

Soon, the world would be set back on the right track, and he knew, he would be written as the hero responsible for fixing what was broken.

There just needed to be a bit of time for everyone to see it as well.

Before sending down his group however, remained one pesky problem he needed to address imminently.

The infuriating Minkies were drawing near, and he didn’t intend to make the fight fair, or bloodless.

The Thief of Souls grinned.

With any luck, he could increase his numbers and power access dramatically. All he needed; was a handful of the nomadic idiots that had revealed their true capabilities thanks to the idiot Lady Beatha.