As I had travelled back through the dark forest, searching for and eventually spotting the dying embers of my small camp fire through the trees, I had become more and more nauseous.

It had taken me an alarmingly long time to realise that something had been wrong with me, something beyond my gained battle injuries.

Perhaps my symptoms were enough to excuse the fact that I hadn't recognised them as symptoms of something more, not at first anyway.

It was almost by accident that I caught a clue at what was happening to me as I mentally reviewed what I could remember reading in the short passage about geliks.

The vague notion that I had read something along the lines of disease or some kind of infection had finally made me pause and really take stock of myself.

Soon enough I had noticed the slight tremors in my hands and the fact that my vision seemed to blur in and out of focus while I looked at them.

I had been thankful for the impromptu walking staff then, it helped me move on my still healing leg, if not much faster then at least steadier.

I hadn't even acknowledged or checked on the horses when I reached my wagon, too worried at the rising panic that was growing within me. I had struggled up the drop down steps and into the back of my wagon, staff in hand and directly to the large bookcase that doubled as my bed.

It had taken me several minutes to find the correct book, owing to the fact that I had a number of books of a similar size that were simply plain but worn brown leather.

When I had found the right book it took me ten minutes more to find what I had been looking for, ten minutes that let my nausea build up, my randomly focusing and unfocusing eyes to worsen and my trembling hands struggle to hold the book.

I had ended up having to set the book down and take a seat before what I considered my 'working' desk, the one topped by smooth stone.

When I discovered that I would shortly fall unconscious and likely die during the night, the next morning at the latest, I panicked in earnest.

I was fortunate in that I had the means to cleanse myself at hand, though in the moment I was convinced that of the several ingredients I would need, that I had surely passed over purchasing something vital.

I hadn't.

Though if I were observed in my actions, no one would have been able to tell.

I broke several vials and a beaker in my mad scramble to unfasten and retrieve them from their places in the many cabinets.

My trembling hands did not help matters, especially when it came to trying to accurately pour and measure water, ichor and various herbs.

Just trying to grind down the herbs and cut a small type of fungus was incredibly difficult.

In point of fact, I had such a difficult time during one particularly strong bout of tremors, that when I was trying to open up the box filled with secured jars that contained what I needed, I actually screamed aloud in frustration and fear.

Frustration at my own inability to do something that I knew I could do and fear that my rapidly deteriorating state would be my death.

I had eventually gotten everything brewing over a small oil flame, I had sat just staring at it as I waited, unable to do anything more.

I had at one point looked at the mess I had made, broken glassware, spilled herbs both ground down and whole, small pools of water, coin sized to plate. I had even made more of a mess by leaving smears of blood on things.

Unable to bear sitting still, I had tried to clean some of the wreckage I had caused in my panic, but as soon as I tried to stand, the movement had my head swimming, and I came very close to vomiting.

And so I just waited, my trembling bouts came on faster and faster, I grew tired and my tongue felt thick in my mouth. It was at one point that I realised that I wasn't even worried any more and while I had known that that should have been alarming to me, I just physically or mentally couldn't bring myself to panic any more.

I had eventually noticed that my small concoction had been ready, I had wondered at the fact that I hadn't immediately grabbed for it and it was probably a good thing that I didn't.

Had I not been numbed to all, the panic that I surely should have been feeling would have had me grasping for the hot vial with barely functioning hands.

I had little doubt that I would have dropped it.

Instead, I had been almost trapped by my own body, my movements very shaky and slow and because of that I hadn't tried to reach for my life saving vial physically. Instead, I had used what seemed like the last remaining dregs of my focus on snuffing the flame below then to pull the vial towards me, the hot glass had stung my lip as it touched briefly but at the time, I had been barely able to feel it.

I can't even remember tasting the contents as they went down my throat, I only remember hearing the sound of my own body hitting the floorboards as I toppled off my seat.

I don't know how long I had been out of it but when I had awoken, aching and feeling exhausted, it had been dark outside still.

I had taken the time to stagger drunkenly outside to relieve myself and judging by the horses and the amount of droppings near them, I had been out for at least an entire day.

It wasn't still dark, it was dark again.

I had done my best to care for them, having to stop frequently while I fed and watered them. I let them drink and eat before I refilled the large copper pots I used for their water.

I had also left plenty of the oatcakes out for them and nearby, where they could easily reach.

I hadn't had the energy nor the will to clean myself or the wagon, I had managed to relock the bookcase and pull it down before I was on top of it.

I had been out in seconds.

When I awoke again, it was by thirst.

I rolled off the bed, ignoring the mess of bedding, I was on my knees in seconds opening up one of the cabinet and pulling out one of the small barrels of water.

I felt weak still but I managed to pull it up to my lips and drink greedily from corked tap hole.

I felt the water spill out and run down my neck and over my body but I didn't care.

I eventually pulled away gasping and it took me a moment to remember to plug up the hole, the water that had escaped onto the floorboards was a minor thing compared to what I saw around me.

My bleary eyes moved over the wagon, inspecting the mess I had made.

I looked back to the bed and briefly considered just climbing back in but even the bed was a mess. The crusted blood and dirt that clung to my ruined and battle-scarred clothing had made a mess of the sheets.

I sighed and pulled myself to my feet.

The first thing I did was go outside into the dipping sun and tend to the horses once more, shortly after I stole away one of their huge copper pots and after getting a fire going in place of my long dead one, I set the water to boiling.

I returned to the wagon, I picked up and collected everything that could be salvaged that was on the floor and put them onto a clean cabinet top then I set about cleaning the broken glass and other things off my floorboards.

Once I was in no danger of stepping on broken glass, I stripped down completely and examined the clothes I had been wearing.

There were many small nicks and tears that probably could be repaired, but the large slashes on the back, the sleeve and at the bottom of one of the pant legs, were clear signs that repair wasn't a viable option.

My boots, while filthy seemed fine though.

I walked outside, entirely nude and carried my ruined clothing with me. I threw them into my fire and watched for a moment as they burned before focusing an effort of will on the large copper pot.

As the water inside rapidly boiled, I took the pot off and set it down on the ground.

After stopping off back inside the wagon briefly once more, I ended up sitting on my log and dipping my wash cloth into the water once it had cooled slightly.

It took time, a lot of soap and three more wash cloths to clean away the dirt, blood and grime that clung to my body.

During this time I got to examine the many cuts and bruises that were scattered over my body. While I washed and cleaned each wound or scrubbed gently over every bruise, I sent my focus into them, sent power flowing into myself and eventually, my body accepted it and began to use it in the effort of healing itself.

I was trying myself off with a small twisting cone of air when I realised that I was essentially bathing myself, entirely naked right next to the road.

Granted, I was off to the side by a ways and behind my enormous wagon but anyone could happen by and likely they would stop to use the lay-by too as the sun was almost set now.

I hurried back into my wagon, still slightly damp and closed the door firmly behind me.

I dressed in the black clothing that I had made myself, then after putting the sandals on my feet, I picked up my filthy boots and exited the wagon briefly once more.

I tossed them down next to the log I had been using as my seat, quickly returned to the wagon to collect a few things and set myself on my rear once more.

After I'd prepared another pot of rice and some vegetables and set them onto my fire, I set about cleaning my boots while I waited for it to cook.

After I added a few herbs and a little spice to the mix, the simmering pot released a delicious scent that woke my stomach with a roar.

I was barely able to move away from watching my food cook long enough to go empty out the copper pot I had used to wash up with.

I managed it, but it was a close thing.

The rest of my evening involved eating my food, forcing myself to wash up afterwards, then checking on the horses once more.

After that I had returned to the wagon, unable to keep myself awake for much longer.

I ignored the rest of the mess inside after I pulled the dirty sheets from the bed. I tossed them onto the floorboards and just flopped down onto the mattress.

When I woke up again, it was light outside.

It took me a couple of minutes to wake up and truly evaluate how I felt.

Eventually I came to the conclusion that I was still weakened but feeling much better than the previous day, or at least I hoped I had only slept for one day.

Once more I got a fire going and let some water boil over it.

Not too long after tending to the horses, who were become increasingly frustrated at being stuck in this place, I ate a breakfast of porridge and washed it down with some tea.

I found myself standing in a completely cleaned wagon, it was spotless and there were no signs of the messes I had caused.

I actually looked over everything for a third time before I sighed to myself and looked out of the window.

It was just past midday which meant that I still had plenty of time to do what I had been putting off with my excessive cleaning.

I needed to go back into the forest, needed to look for the owner of that missing boot and at least do something about the corpses I had left littered there.

I retrieved the same walking staff I had used to help me make my way out of the darkened trees and despite not really needing it to help any more, I kept it with me as I returned into the now lightened depths.

I took my satchel with me too, knowing that in one of my chests, I had some portable implements and ingredients for any potential brewing I might have to do.

As I walked my mind was playing over the events of my small battle and amongst the multitude of things I silently berated myself for doing wrong, one thing stood out.

I had gone into the the situation and relied only on my magic.

Had I taken a weapon of some kind with me, I suspected that things would have turned out much differently, even the simple belt knife I had used had been a huge boon to me during the fighting.

I vowed to myself that when I reached the city of Gresh, I would seek out a master weapon smith and see if I could have an omaran forged.

An omaran was a type of sword that was commonly used in Orlette, well, commonly used by their version of nobility. It was a sword blade of an unusual design, if I were to describe it to someone from this time and this land, I would say that it had the shape of two chisels joined, flat side to flat side.

Instead of a sharp point on the end, it was squared off into another, smaller, sharpened edge, same as the sides.

An omaran was typically very narrow, somewhere between two or three finger widths wide. It was designed for a fighting style that was about slashing and deflection, though when the tip of one was used, it was used with extreme speed and force.

Having no actual pointed tip on the end, using the tip of an omaran to 'stab' with, was like smashing the sharpened edge of a regular sword onto someone, only that impact was all compressed into a small area.

Imagine a three finger wide shaving blade, tied to a metal bar and swung directly at you with as much force and speed as could be managed.

Now imagine that even though that blade edge was only small in width but not in length, that if the blow was hard enough, it could pierce through and sink into you like a regular sword.

Such 'stabbing' attacks with an omaran were usually directed to the face or heart and to generally devastating effect.

I had a mastery of an omaran, a mastery that I had never even touched, nor practised with.

I knew exactly how to move with one, I knew how my feet should be placed, I knew just the right angles to turn my wrist and lock it into place to parry or deflect an otherwise perfect blow.

I knew all this and yet, I had never held such a blade myself.

I knew that even with all the knowledge I had of their use, that I would need the physical practise if I had any hopes of being able to wield such a blade like a true Orlette noble.

I had Althalan's memories, fractured pieces of sporting duels in strange and alien looking halls.

Sometimes they were of Althalan himself duelling, an overwhelming sense of joy and a rush of excitement during these, but I had even more of duels he had witnessed from afar.

Flashing blades, twirling bodies that held an almost hypnotising grace to them, then suddenly a lashing strike, like lightning striking from a roiling cloud.

Men or women, swaying almost gently in place with their blades held up and out before them, like two enraged snakes showing their ire, standing up and ready, to spring forward in an instant and deliver death.

I knew that once I had a blade of my own, even once I had come to practise with it and developed the physical mastery of using one, that had I been back in Orlette, back there during it's prime, there would have been masters of the omaran there who could have killed me in less than a second.

Those Althalan had witnessed, those shocking displays of speed and grace didn't inspire fear in the man, but rather a sense of admiration.

He had been a master himself, though just barely.

He had had enough skill to be considered a master by his peers but enough knowledge to recognise that he had been one of the least amongst 'equals', only just being counted amongst those highly skilled elite.

Even without having taken time to train with an omaran myself, having such a blade with me during my battle would have changed the entire way that things had played out.

I had relied on my magic and it had nearly cost me my life.

I had this skill, one half-remembered and gifted to me unknowingly, yet I had not utilised it.

I would correct this mistake, and I would remember this lesson.

Once more it was the stench that I noticed first; I had been a little unsure if I had the right bearing, though I knew my general direction had been correct.

Eventually I began to notice the disturbed underbrush, and after following it backwards, I came upon the ruin I had left that night.

One thing I noticed that was not as I had remembered, were the flies.

There were hundreds of them, thousands even.

It looked like their dark forms were the physical embodiment of the stench that rose from the larger forms below.

The ground was of course, still a churned up mess, even if it hadn't been littered with bodies and body parts.

With the light of day overhead, I could clearly see the thousands of chunks, splinters and chips of wood that had spread out over a shockingly large area.

I reached up to push at one chip that had embedded itself into the dark bark of the tree I stood by, it didn't even wiggle it was so deeply embedded.

I tried to put the idea out of my mind that there was probably much more to the length of 'chip' I could see sticking out of the bark, like a dagger made of wood, one that could easily have found a home in my own flesh rather than this tree.

Setting down my temporary walking staff, I took a clean rag out of my satchel and tied it over my mouth and nose before raising my hood.

I raised my hands and stepped into the carnage, and as I did, a powerful gust came from behind me.

The thousands of flies were blasted away from their grisly meals, further from me, into the trees.

I pointedly ignored the few dismembered limbs that rocked slightly with the wind and kept moving forward.

As my feet came upon the first cold dark mass that lay unmoving on the ground, I brought my hands down, back, and then pushed forward as if pushing a great weight.

The body, other bodies and the pieces of bodies near by all rolled forwards.

Rather than follow them, I made my way around the perimeter of this dead battlefield, pushing everything towards a centre point, the very same centre point that I had fought on.

I had to stop what I was doing, retrieve my walking staff and use it to push several corpses over, corpses that had become stuck in the furrows and tears in the ground.

Twice I had to pause to throw out gusts of wind at the flies that tried to return, on the third time, I sent out a wide gout of flame with a grimace on my face.

I never thought to hear the sound of a thousand flies pitter-pattering to their deaths all at once.

With all the bodies piled mostly in one place and pieces of wood and leaf litter mixed in with them, I took the time to search for dead or mostly dry pieces of wood to add to the pile.

I collected up dead fall, making several trips before I ended up setting down my staff and satchel and going a little further away in search of more.

I managed to fell a single dead standing tree; I felled it without too much trouble and took the time to cut it into manageable pieces, using sharp blades of air.

I took armful after armful back to the makeshift pyre and distributed them as best I could amongst the corpses.

Still more flies had returned.

When I was sure there was enough dried wood to start a good fire, I set my hands on one exposed cut of wood after another, pausing each time to be sure that the piece caught fire then moving further around to the next.

When I was done, I moved back around to collect my staff and satchel, I stood for a while just watching the pyre burn. I looked hard at the small dark corpses, trying to spot the moment that they actually started to burn along with the wood but it was so gradual that one moment they seemed to still be resisting the heat then the next they were burning themselves.

I waited for a long time until the pyre burned down, not wanting to leave an unattended fire of this size, so deep within the forest.

I watched and occasionally looked up to see how far the sun had moved across the sky.

It was close to sunset before it was over, I raised both of my hands, water building up in orbs on my palms, then focusing more, the orbs grew to balls, larger and larger.

I willed the air to take them and the two huge balls of water that were held above me, trapped in place were suddenly torn apart and taken my the gust.

I did this three more times, each time the water spread out over the smouldering pyre, casting up thick smoke and steam.

Once it was settled, I moved in a direction I hadn't yet gone in, the direction that the geliks had come from.

Using the remainder of the setting sun, I kept my eyes roaming over the tree trunks, looking for those telltale marks in the bark where sharp talons had gripped onto them.

I followed them further into the depths of the forest, and eventually my nose that had been deadened by the assault of smoke throughout the day, once more picked up that scent of death.

After a little searching, I came upon a mound of earth, no grass grew on it, only fallen leaves and some few twigs lay upon it where they had fallen from above.

This mound of earth had a hole in it, partly at the bottom of one of the sides of the mound and partly dug out of the ground itself.

I'd found the gelik's burrow.

I checked the rag on my face, ensuring it was still firmly held in place then I sent my focus into the earth before me. I could feel the burrow or more accurately I could feel the earth that the mound itself was made out of but as to what was inside, it was like a giant one of those dead floating motes.

Empty of any raw magic, just blank to my senses.

With my eyes closed, I reached down to my belt and drew out my belt knife, sincerely hoping that I wouldn't have to use it again but unwilling to risk not drawing it in advance, I gripped the earth of the burrow and tore it up.

I opened my eyes almost immediately after I let my focus release the earth, I opened them in time to see the mass of dirt, sticks and leaves jerk up and away almost holding their shape completely before it all came loose and broke apart as it fell away.

I looked at the exposed hole, maybe a man's height in depth but easily twenty paces across. It was circular, like the inverse of the domed mound I had ripped from it.

The stench hit me like a physical thing, like a wave of rot and filth that flew in my direction and enveloped me.

It was lucky that no more of the geliks remained hidden within the burrow because all I could do was bend over and retch.

Unfortunately, I knew what the source of the sickening stench was.

Not who they had been, but rather what they were now.

I wiped my watering eyes on my sleeve, steeled my nerves and moved forwards.

I stood over the side looking down into this nest of rot; I could see old bones, bones of animals and several that were definitely human or humanoid.

There was more though; I could make out the half rotten carcass of what looked to have been some kind of deer, and I could also see the remains of the person who had owned the boot.

I could clearly see the other boot on the dead man's foot.

By his size, they had been a man, but any features that had been on their face had been torn away. What should have been raw pink and red exposed flesh was grey and rotten.

No eyes, no lips, nothing of the sort.

There were some remains of clothing upon them still, though the only thing that was really intact on them looked to be a travelling cloak.

Even that was covered in what looked like some sort of slimly substance that had dried and crusted over.

I looked away; I couldn't help it.

It was what I had hoped not to find and yet known that I would.

Then something I had seen sprang to the forefront of my mind and my eyes snapped back to the gruesome sight. On both the remains of the dear and on the remains of the man were grey black... somethings.

They looked like small sacks, and I instantly knew that they were some kind of eggs or cocoons. The things looked to be joined against parts that still held flesh, likely feeding from it, they were small things that were almost rhombus shaped.

I knew that I wouldn't be leaving the forest until after dark, my mind resolved to burning this place too.

As I was examining one of the strange stacks, I noticed something metallic, though dulled by the filth that covered it, against the chest of the man.

I reached out a hand and pulled with my will.

I cried out in shock when the dead man moved and jumped backwards, falling on my rear, my body reacting while it took a moment for my mind to realise what had happened.

In that split second before the corpse moved, there had been something stretching between the metal thing I had pulled towards me and the corpse itself.

The metal was, of course, a pendant, the band of which was still around the dead man's neck.

I'd cause the dead man to move, I'd pulled him by the neck.

I couldn't help but look around the darkening trees, as if someone would be standing there, mocking me for my foolishness.

I swore quietly to myself.

I stood back up and moved back to the rim of the hole and without being gentle, sent a small blade of air at the pendant's binding, ignoring the hollow thunk that I knew came from the blade sinking into the man's remains.

I pulled the thing up and out of the pit of filth and not wanting to touch the thing with my hands, I let it rest upon the ground.

After a not inconsiderable amount of conjured water, the filth that had caked the pendant had come loose and been washed away to reveal The Circle of Ulmar.

It was a holy symbol of sorts.

It was not something an actual priest would wear, but something someone who had respect for the gods would have.

There was an old legend about Ulmar, a man who had apparently brought peace during a time of religious war.

His symbol had been used as a kind of catch all sign to indicate respect of all gods, all religions, just not any single one specifically.

These symbols were common throughout most lands, though as I looked close and sent my focus into the metal, I discovered that rather than the cheap aluminium I expected it to be made from, it was actually made of silver.

I was surprised, though I wasn't sure why.

I thought that maybe a part of me had expected this man to have been just a humble farmer or worker.

While this silver wasn't a guarantee of wealth, it was certainly unusual for a commoner to have, let alone have enough of to wear as a pendant.

I cast my gaze at the man's remains once more, wondering just who he had been, wondering what exactly had happened on his last night. I thought his cloak looked well made under the filth and grime and I thought that maybe, judging by the few remaining tufts of hair that he might have had brown hair.

Beyond these few details, I couldn't tell much more.

I spent almost an hour collecting more wood, collecting it and filling up the pit I had exposed, before eventually, as the sun truly left me for the day, flames arose once more.

As the sun was just rising the next day, I was already on my way back through the forest.

I was glad to put this entire thing behind me and continue on my way, I had cleansed the pendant I had found as best as I could in the flames then put it away in my satchel.

I walked without a staff, having thrown it into the flames during the night.

I felt dirty.

I had a plan in my mind and intended to stick to it.

I would return to my wagon, I would see to the horses then I would wash myself and change. Once I was ready, I would take my breakfast on the road as I drove the wagon, I would forego the food stuffs I sorted away in favour of simple dried meat and water.

I would be well on my way.

And that is exactly what I did.

I could practically see the excitement of the horses as they pulled me on my way, they must have felt as relieved as I was to finally be on the move once more.

I resolved to do my best not to think about the events of the past few days, I would only revisit them once more when I reached the next town.

To hand over the pendant I had taken.

I had no need for the silver, and I honestly did not want the reminder of my brush with death.

I thought it might give someone some closure or peace of mind if anyone happened to know who the pendant had belonged to.

It was ten rolls of the dice to one that someone would actually know who the man had been, but even with those long odds, it wouldn't cost me much to try.

I stopped once more on the road.

I tended to the horses, cooked and ate without anything eventful happening. I slept; I awoke and kept on the journey without anything amiss.

My horses pulled me along, and we travelled all that day until eventually breking out into the cleared trees that had been turned into farmland.

I looked upon the small town, now visible in the distance under the setting sun.

I moved along the road, choosing to nod at the few passing carts despite being dressed as a noble. My Tep clothing had been ruined by my encounter, and I had burned the remains, now I was dressed in the clothing I considered common for the nobility of this land.

I wore the shirt and pants but rather than my high leather boots, I had decided to put back on my workman's sturdy boots. Everything but the boots were the right design for a noble, I hoped that my obviously used boots would mark me as someone of lesser station, perhaps a footman of sorts.

The closed cabin behind my bench was of course empty, but those who I passed by wouldn't know.

I passed through the small but sturdy looking gates, nodding to the two very bored looking guardsmen as I did so and moved further into the town.

Those first few days on the road from Moreland's Rest had mostly been a straight road; there had been several branching roads I could have taken to other places, but I had continued on.

A few days before my encounter with the geliks, I had gone straight through a crossroad, one that provided me with a marker of sorts to indicate that I had been travelling in the correct destination. Beyond that crossroad, there were no branching paths, no other markers until I reached this town.

If I had remembered correctly, this town should be a town called Hoofhold.

Supposedly it was known for having a good stock of horses, healthy and well taken care of but truth be told, I hadn't paid much attention to the surrounding fields as I'd moved through them. There could have been hundreds of horses or even an army of sheep for all the attention I had given.

I was too impatient to get to the town.

The place was clean, people moved about much like anywhere else I supposed. The road I was on currently was cobbled though I did see several smaller streets that simply had gravel or packed earth.

I manoeuvred my oversized wagon as best I could, staying to the larger and more open streets while I searched for an inn of some kind.

I was relieved when I spotted on because it looked to have plenty of room for my wagon and the stables themselves were also very large. I came to a stop on the hard packed dirt, as I did so two young men approached from the stable.

“Will you be stabling your horses, my lord?” The slightly taller of the two asked politely.

“My lord will be taking a room for a night or two.” I said, trying to subtly correct him into believing me a peer and not a Lord in my own right. “We'll need his horses cared for though, can you handle them while I see about lodgings for my lord?”

“Yes, sir.” He answered and both he and his fellow approached the horses, casting a professional eye over them.

I climbed down from the wagon, speaking aloud to the closed off cabin as I did so.

“I will be only a moment, my lord. Once I have found suitable accommodations.” I said. Even as a spoke, I turned my face away from the view of the two stable hands and focused my will.

A small, seemingly inconsequential action but one that let me perform a small trick.

Using the air around me, I spoke, not in my usual voice but in the slightly accented voice I would adopt as Lord Al Edo.

The sound came not from my mouth but seemed to come from behind me instead, from behind the closed off cabin.

“Very well, Tep.” I said. “See that I am not disturbed.”

“Yes, my lord.” I answered myself and continued walking as my focus was released.

Entering the inn, I walked into a noisy but cheerful common room.

Looking around, I saw both common workers and others who looked like they might have been merchants. Behind a long polished wooden bar, the barmaids looked to be hard at work, and my eyes moved over them until I found an older man standing to one end.

I moved in his direction and caught his eye.

“Good evening.” I greeted.

“Evening.” The man I assumed was the innkeeper or at least had some authority, replied.

“I need the use of a good room for my lord.” I told him. “We've travelled a ways and he wishes to rest for a night or two.”

“Ah, I see.” The man said and nodded once. “Will you be needing a room for your lord that has room for yourself?”

I shook my head.

“No, I will be returning to our wagon once we have eaten.” I explained. “My Lord is not from these lands and his ways are sometimes strange, he is very particular about his privacy and sleeping arrangements.” I said, spinning my story.

“I see, well we can have a meal brought up to him if you wish, have you stabled any horses?” He asked me.

I told him of our horses and he led me up to see if the room was fit for my lord.

It was no prize, but it was furnished, large enough and clean. I paid him for two nights and was handed a key and a promise of a couple of meals to be delivered within half an hour.

I left the inn to 'fetch my lord'.

This involved some rather impressive illusions on my part and a little air magic.

The horses were gone, stabled for the evening but there was another man standing by the open stable, another stable hand I assumed.

I ended up carrying out another 'conversation' with myself, if only a brief one, as I entered the closed cabin.

To any who were watching, and that third stable hand was watching, it appeared as thought Tep exited the cabin followed by the darkly garbed and hooded Lord Al Edo.

In truth, only I walked into the inn, I held the door open for my illusion as it entered and moved beyond me.

I let the door close and gave a nod to the innkeeper as I 'hurriedly moved to lead my lord' up the stairs.

It was harder than I anticipated holding an illusion that could walk up stairs but once we were out of sight of everyone, I let the illusion fall away and simply entered the room myself and closed the door behind me.

Just short of thirty minutes later there was a polite tap on the door, the barmaid cast a quick glance at the seemingly seated lord before looking back to me and delivering our meal.

I can't say that I was unhappy about being stuck with two evening meals because once she dipped an unpractised curtsy and left, I dropped the illusion and I devoured them both.

**************

The bed had been comfortable for what it was, but during the night I had realised that my own bed in the wagon was actually much more comfortable.

I had been very tempted to simply leave out of a window and sneak into my own wagon and been Tep in truth for the night.

I resisted the temptation and stayed put.

The next morning I had informed the innkeeper that my lord had no need for breakfast today and would likely be out for most of the day.

After me and my illusion left the inn, we stopped briefly in his wagon.

Inside the wagon, I changed my attire, let down the small top knot that Tep wore his hair in, then I went to the cabinet that housed the hidden chest.

I pushed my will into the runes and opened it up, instantly seeing what I was looking for.

I retrieved the small ruby that was tied to a plain leather strap, the ruby was filled with raw power.

I stood and cast a reflective illusion in the air before me, then began to subtly alter the appearance.

My hair darkened slightly, my eyes remained the same but the darkening of the lashes changed their appearance a startling amount.

I arranged my loose hair, parted then tucked it behind my ears, the slight hook to my nose straightened up very slightly and my facial expression changed from my natural relaxed look I had to something colder.

I tied my illusions to the ruby then hung it from my neck, tucking the hanging gem under my clothing and against my chest.

When I was satisfied with myself, I picked up a small leather coin pouch and tied it to my belt, then I left the wagon and locked the door behind me.

To anyone who may have been watching, Tep was still within.

As I walked away from the wagon and left the property belonging to the inn, my posture changed slightly, my walk took on a different rhythm.

Between one step and the next, Ash, or perhaps Tep vanished, and Lord Al Edo took his place. Lord Al Edo moved down the street with a surety to his presence that others would see.

My head held high, I moved down the street as if I owned all before me, my expression was cold and brooked no excuses.

People moved out of my path and some few even nodded their heads in respect, a Lord walked amongst them.

It was time to test my guise.

I knew roughly where I was heading, I had seen the building when I had arrived in town the day before. I'd marked the house mentally as either a town hall, a mayor's offices or some kind of meeting place where town officials would gather.

As I walked and silently observed the reactions of the people around me, I began to feel more comfortable in my guise. I didn't see any undue suspicion, only the looks that common folk usually gave to a noble should they happen across them.

It was a mixture of apprehension, fear and sometimes even a little respect.

I walked down a wide cobbled road and could see my destination ahead on my right.

A large stone building, two wide double doors at the top of three long stone steps were open.

As I reached the steps and moved up them, I saw that just like yesterday when I had passed by on my wagon, that just inside the building, at each side of the open entry stood a guard.

I walked through the doorway, not even glancing at the guards to each side of me.

My footfalls echoed loudly on the floor in this open entry hall, I stopped exactly in the centre of the room and cast a single long look around me.

To my left, closed doors ran along the interior wall there, at the end of the row of doors, furthest away from the front of the building, were some wide stairs.

The far wall had two more doors and like the others, I assumed that they were offices or storage.

To my right were a neat row of chairs, a waiting area of sorts, with only a single occupant. The young man was looking at me but as my gaze moved over him, he lowered his gaze.

I was just taking a breath in preparation to speak aloud when one of the guards spoke first.

“Uh, can I help you...” He said hesitantly and as I turned to face him, he looked at my face and quickly added. “...my lord.”

“Bring me your mayor or headman or whoever it is that is supposed to be in charge of this place.” I said in a voice that was not my usual one.

The accent I had chosen was clipped, as if my jaw were clenched.

I hoped that the unusual clothing combined with my accent, that could easily be mistaken for someone who was on the verge of being very angry, would be enough to unsettle most who encountered me.

I wanted them to wonder if I was simply a foreign noble or if I was a foreign noble who was on the verge of releasing his fury.

I was not angry, I wasn't even acting angry in my guise as Lord Al Edo, but this was a strategic decision I had made in choosing this accent.

Not only that but the native language of ancient Orlette was very tight sounding, subdued and constricted sounds. Also when you used emphasis on a word or sentence, it sounded as though you were subtly trying to keep your anger in check.

Of course, it only sounded like that to someone native to this land, someone who spoke in my native language.

It was simply a different language, with a different rhythm and cadence to the flow of a sentence.

It was something I thought would be useful though and so I had adopted it.

“Uh..” The guard said and looked to his partner, seeming uneasy. “I think you might have to take a seat and wait fo-” He cut off his words, I could feel that his partner was trying to subtly warn against his words and he switched them mid-sentence. “I mean, who should I say is waiting for the mayor, my lord?”

I gave him a slight glare then spoke aloud but this time, I did want to sound angry, or at least annoyed.

“I am Lord Al Edo, Keeper of the Golden Vaults, Lord of the Mountain Hall, member of The High Circle of Orlette, Destroyer of the Yellow Madness...” I intentionally stopped myself, as if I had more titles to list, pretending that the obvious panic on the guardsman's face was my reason for stopping.

As if I had noticed that he finally realised he should be showing much more deference to the lord who stood before him.

“...Fetch me your village leader.” I said in a very quiet voice, intentionally calling what was surely a proud town, a village.

The guard ran for the stairs.

I sighed, as if extremely put upon at actually having to wait for someone to be brought to me.

I waited for probably thirty seconds, the hall was completely silent, neither the remaining guardsman nor the waiting young man dared to look at me.

I felt a little guilty but showed not of it.

I didn't want to frighten these people, but I did have something I wished to do here and I did need a place to test my new persona.

I heard the sound of hushed voices, I couldn't quite make out what they were saying as they were still out of sight up the stairs, but they were clearly panicked.

Shortly afterwards the guard came down the stairs followed by an older man, probably in his late fifties and well dressed.

They both hurried over to me and the mayor seemed to cringe at whatever expression was on my face.

He bowed to me and I nodded ever so slightly in return.

“My Lord.” The mayor began. “I had no idea of your arrival, I think maybe one of my aides must have-”

I waved a dismissive hand and his words halted.

“You are the mayor of this place?” I asked.

“Yes, my lord.” The mayor told me. “I'm Mayor Galt.”

He looked like he was about to keep speaking but I spoke first.

“I was travelling with my footman from the east.” I told him as I reached down to the pouch on my belt.

“I had stopped on the road for the evening when I happened upon the creatures that are called geliks in this land.” I continued in a calm, even bored voice, completely ignoring the widening eyes and alarmed expressions.

“There were not many of them, more than fifty, less than seventy five.” I said as my fingers found what I was looking for in the pouch.

Both the mayor and the guard looked like they might be about to vomit.

“There were no patrols or men-at-arms that I have seen, so I had to disposed of the creatures personally.” I said casually and the mayor looked like he was about the faint with relief, relief at not having a situation involving wild geliks close by the domain he was in charge of.

“Once I set their corpses ablaze, I left my footman to tend the fire while I searched out their burrow” I lied smoothly. “When I found their den, I discovered the bones of the dead.”

I withdrew the Circle of Ulmar and held it up.

There was a gasp, but it came from neither the mayor nor his guards.

It came from the young man who had been waiting in this hall.

The young man, more of a boy I saw now, had stood and was staring at the pendant I held like it had broken his heart.

I watched a he moved forwards, towards our group.

“No...” The boy was saying, he kept repeating it to himself and his eyes never left the pendant.

“You know the owner of this, boy?” I asked, already feeling slightly sick inside.

The look in his eyes was grief, I could see it plainly now.

I glanced at the mayor who looked sick as he looked at the boy, then I looked to the guard whose face had gone professionally blank.

Yes, this was the pendant of someone close to the boy.

I had no doubts.

“W-Where did you..” The boy tried, his voice sounding choked up. “My lord, my cousin, is he-”

“Erik!” The mayor interrupted. “It might not be what you think, let us hear what Lord Al Edo has to say...” He tried, and I thought I could hear guilt in his voice.

The boy stopped trying to speak but as I met his eyes, I could tell that he knew what I would say.

“One of their kills was fresh.” I said as everyone watched me. “I am not familiar with your local customs, but I understand that this is a holy symbol of sorts. I thought perhaps it may have belonged to a local priest.”

I looked at the mayor and he was staring at the Circle of Ulmar with a defeated expression.

“But I see now that you all seem to know who this belonged to.” I said in a neutral voice.

The mayor seemed to hear my words and belatedly respond.

“Yes, my lord.” He admitted. “I'm afraid I do... did, know the owner.” Then he added as if speaking to himself, his voice faint. “I was the person who sent him out of the town on an errand.”

There was an awkward moment in which neither of us spoke then the mayor seemed to realise he had a seemingly very important lord standing in front of him.

He bowed once more and spoke hurriedly.

“Forgive me, my lord” He said. “Do you wish for refreshments? We can speak in my office if-”

I looked at the boy and felt a pang in my chest so I ignored the mayor. I had come here in hopes of giving someone some closure if I could, I just hadn't expected to do it personally.

I didn't back down from it though, I met the boy's eyes steadily as I spoke.

“I see you are grieved.” I said. “I cannot tell you with any certainty if the remains I found belonged to your... cousin?” I asked at the end and received a numb nod. “I can only tell you what I found, the body was of a man, he wore a study travelling cloak and I suspect that his hair may have been brown.”

I could see the impact my words had and I remained silent for a moment while the boy processed this information.

Once that moment passed I continued.

“I will also tell you that the creatures had laid their young upon the remains, I had to cleanse the entire burrow with fire to prevent their spread.”

The boy's eyes closed and I could see his jaw trembling.

I knew that feeling of loss, I had felt it myself when I had been much younger than his boy. It didn't matter what age someone was though, being eight years old as I had been when I lost my parents, or the fourteen or so years that this boy looked to be.

It was never easy.

Spoke to the mayor but my words were intended to be heard by the boy too.

“If you wish to confirm my words, send your next patrol-” I said and was almost certain that there were never any regular patrols sent out from this town. “-about two days by wagon to the east, by a way stop on the southern side. You will have to have them travel further south into the trees. It will take some searching but you will find the pyres.”

I wondered if the boy would go to the spot, I knew that he obviously knew that no actual remains were left there now, but grief was a strange thing.

“I am sorry for your loss, boy” I said in as gentle a tone as my guise would allow but received only a numb nod of his head in reply.

I held out the pendant to the boy and he accepted it, his expression was dazed as if he had been hit in the head and his movements automatic.

“I do not wish to linger, I have business to attend to.” I told the mayor. “I am here simply here to inform you of what I found in your area of responsibility.”

The return of my brisk seeming tone seemed to startle the man, thinking perhaps I was accusing him of not believing me.

“I will send out the men at once.” The mayor said and continued with assurance. “I would never doubt your word, my lord, I will send them simply to check the area for signs of others.”

I waved this away, not wanting to be here any longer.

I had not expected this, I had expected to deliver a pendant to an official of the town, give them a brief account of events and test out my guise as a lord.

I had not expected to have to deliver the news to a grieving family member.

I wanted to leave this place and as a lord, I had the right to do so.

So that is what I did, I simply nodded coldly to the mayor, ignored the blank faces of the guards and tried not to look back to the boy who stood in place near the mayor as I walked out of the building.

Even as my feet started down the steps, I could hear the mayor's voice directed at the boy.

To my ears, his tone sounded like excuses, not one of consolation.

I felt slightly sick.