Safir glances up at the ugly sky.

“Not now, damn it. Not yet.”

The sky answers him with rumbling thunder.

Still on his horse, Safir turns back to shout to his party, “We must take cover soon. A storm is coming and by Nranhana's leg hairs, it smells like a big one.” He watches as a few yards behind him, young boy Timothy starts to speed up. Thin in stature and timid of complexion, he is the greenest adventurer Safir has ever seen. But beggars can't be choosers. Safir hadn't promised much else on the commission other than glory and pay even he has to admit is lackluster.

“Where can we go?” the boy asks once he's riding by Safir's side, his meager voice barely carrying over the wind. “I haven't seen anything in a hundred miles in either direction.”

Safir looks around them. They've been passing by the same-looking surroundings for what feels like hours.

"Those clouds look like they're headed where we are," Timothy points out.

Safir has to admit the boy is right. There isn't anything out here save for ambushes and hidden danger. He fancies he can even smell the barbarian tribes hiding among the boulders and has to assure himself of how preposterous that is. Besides, as long as he has his axes and staff, he doesn’t have anything to fear. He even has two other bodies with him to watch the night.

Should've been three, but oh well.

“It matters not where the clouds go,” he tells Timothy. “If we can't outrun the storm, there'll be safe spots under those hills we can take refuge.” He points to where the Bladed Road disappears into unmarked mountain trails. With how far it is, he may as well be pointing to the Dragonspines.

Timothy nods. “You ride on ahead,” he says. “I’ll make sure Danny catches up.”

“Tell the lad he should leave behind those strength potions,” Safir says. “Ordinary folk have no need of 'em, much less a hunk like him.”

Timothy smiles. "Oh, he knows."

Exasperated, Safir waits until the boy is out of the range before kicking his own horse into a sprint, hooves flying over rocks and potholes.

The Bladed Road gets its name the old-fashioned way, by earning it. The wild overgrown dirt road slices through the open plains like a cut made by a giant’s knife, with jagged outcrops of obsidian rock jutting out along each side. Rolling hills of yellow frame the horizon, gradually increasing in height and fading in color the further north the party rides.

They made good distance since setting off two days ago. Just yesterday, Safir noted they had passed the halfway point between Kesrock and the Northern Border. It was there they ran across the remains of a battlefield. It was unusual for a skirmish of this scale to happen so far out here, especially one between bandits and barbarians if the remnants strewn across the wasteland was to be believed. But the good news was that there were tracks, and there was no mistaking they were left by something that had wheels. Safir didn’t want to get his hopes up too soon, but the chances of another party or merchant traveling out here with the winter nearing is slim to none.

Which meant they were likely only a day or two behind Yue’li and her cursed kidnapper.

“Dwarf man.”

Safir turns to see Danny riding up beside him, taking the place of young boy Timothy.

“When do we stop for eating today?”

The lad is a peculiar creature. With his bulbous body and round face, he seems to be stuck in-between the transition between boyish man and overgrown kid. Regardless, he is not as bright as his counterpart. Far from it, in fact.

Guess that's why they say opposites always find each other.

Safir keeps his eyes on the road. “We don’t. Not today. Not until the clouds are behind us.” He looks up again. It doesn’t seem possible. The clouds look like they’re stretched over the Dragonspines, all the way from Jinyu.

“Not right,” says Danny. Safir steels his patience for an argument, but the big boy simply reaches into his back pocket and takes out a piece of jerky. Then with one hand still holding the reins of his horse, he unwraps the jerky and starts to eat. Safir has a feeling this is a feat much practiced by the boyish man.

He shakes his head, and rides on.

They ride into the evening. But by sundown, the storm clouds do not lessen. They look even more clustered in fact, suffocating the sky so Safir has trouble discerning dusk from night.

At his instructions, they set up camp.

“We don’t have a choice,” he explains as if he needs to. “The horses are too worn to go on. Not to mention with this light, I can nary see the hairs from my nose.”

They find a spot in the barren fields away from the Bladed Road, far enough so their campfire is not easily spotted but not too far as to make it inconvenient for them to return to it tomorrow.

Danny grunts as he struggles off his horse. “I think I have eat too much,” he says, one hand rubbing his belly. “Or my horse runs too much hard. I have mighty cramp.”

“If you’re going to make a mess, do it far away,” Safir says, already busy laying his out spice pouch across a flat rock. He then takes out a small pot and pan from his backpack, and orders Danny to set up the tents while Tim gathers firewood. “I trust you know what to look for,” he says to the latter, “seeing how you are an adventurer and all.” He means it as a challenge, and sees from Tim’s determined expression the lad understands it as such.

“I won’t let you down, sir,” says the lad. “I learned a lot from books I read in the Needle. I know just what to do.”

“Good,” says Safir. “And stop calling me sir. It gives me the icks.”

When Tim finally comes back, Safir has just finished dinner preparations. Angular pieces of raw potato and carrots lie strew about the bottom of the pot, and with an unceremonious throw, he deposits a handful of dried meat sticks into the mix.

“I picked up all the suitable wood I could find,” Tim says, dumping the pile on the ground. “Do you want me to light it?”

“I want you to build me a house for rabbits,” Safir says with an exasperated look. “Yes. Light it. And quickly. I want a protective spell around it in case the sky decides to piss on our dinner.”

Red-faced, Tim takes out his knife and flint. He works quickly, building a pile of twigs and lighting that, then adding more until the fire is alive and steady.

Safir grunts. "Not that green after all."

“Thank you, sir,” says Tim. “I swear it on my sword that your commission will be seen through to the end. I shall do everything I can to redeem myself in the eyes of Nrahana and Sharn.”

Safir waves him away. “I’m not interested in your life story, lad. Go help your meathead of a friend with the tents. By the sounds of it, he’s going to tear through them soon.”

When the lad is gone, Safir deposits the pot carefully on the fire. Then he takes out his staff and goes over to the side of the road. He digs a small hole with the butt of the staff, then aims the tip at the deepest part of the hole.

"Wit Mizer."

With a pulse of red-tinted magic, the hole begins to fill up with water. Safir watches as his reflection gets clearer and bigger, and allows himself a satisfied smile.

"Still got it."

He fills up his waterskin first, then the two lads'. Then he takes out a flagon and scoops out enough to fill the pot halfway, leaving the rest of the water for the next wanderer or whatever creature may stumble upon it in the near future.

Take what you need. Give what you don't.

Safir goes back to the pot and dumps the flagon of water into it. The vegetables and cut meat dance as they're submerged. Then Safir sits down with a ladle and begins stirring.

Nranhana must be watching over them that night, because by the time the stew is bubbling, the clouds have not yet opened. Safir serves his party two bowls each and soon, their little camp is filled with happy slurping noises.

Safir watches the two young men dig into their food, their faces set in determined expressions as they down their first bowls without a word muttered between them.

I’ve forgotten how it feels to cook for another, he thinks, remembering of the times he too sat like that, ate like that, traveled in a group like this.

It was too many years ago. Back then, he was still eating Momo's cooking, listening to Momo's munching sounds, talking to her about this and that.

Safir must've made some noise then, because Timothy looks up from his stew. Safir catches the boy looking and clears his throat.

"You want another helping?"

The boy nods eagerly. "Yes, s- I mean Master Silverbeard."

Safir grunts. "That sounds worse. Why don't we drop the titles altogether? Makes it easier to call out when we ride." He starts to fill the bowl. That's when Danny immediately offers up his own empty one. He's on his third now.

"Suits me fine," he says with his mouth still full.

"Me too," Timothy says. He takes the filled bowl from Safir graciously. He's still much too polite in his manners, but Safir chalks it up to inexperience.

Momo was like that when we first met.

Safir hands back Danny's bowl. The lad eats like he didn't consume five pieces of dried jerky since noon. But Safir is glad to watch the boy eat. If anything, it's a humorous distraction from the thoughts of his long-dead daughter, thoughts he foolishly let creep up on him like an assassin.

Breakfast turns out to be less than ideal. Safir used way too much water so instead of stew, they're having vegetable tea. Some of the potatoes are cut too wide and stayed raw while the smaller pieces turned to mush.

“I should’ve quit while I was ahead,” Safir says with a chuckle, and is met with polite but unanimous agreement.

“I read that it helps to save leftover stew from a previous meal,” says Timothy, carefully fishing out a chunk of raw carrot. “You have to make sure to hide it away from camp, of course.” He holds his spoon closer to the fire, trying to roast the carrot.

“Cooking was never a strength of mine,” Safir admits. “It was one of those things that someone else always did for me. So when I realized I had to start doing it myself, I’ve become too old to learn.”

Danny nods his big blocky head and then surprises Safir by asking for seconds. “I understand problem, dwarf man,” he says. “Cooking is art I cannot make either.” He takes a long slurp and the bowl is nearly empty when he brings it back down again. Then he makes a face and starts to work his jaw from side to side. Safir hears the distinct crunch of raw potato.

As they start to pack up camp, Timothy half-heartedly offers to cook for the rest of the journey. He is acknowledged with immediate enthusiasm from all.

“Oh, heck,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I don’t want anyone’s hopes to get up or anything. I’ve never actually made anything, only read about it.”

“Good enough,” says Safir. “But let us focus back on the road. I like not the way the clouds sag.”

They finish packing the tents and within half an hour, are back on the road.

By noon, they reach the end of the Bladed Road.

Safir slows his horse down to a gradual stop. The exhausted creature gives a whine of appreciation and lifts one of its front hooves. Safir notices that blood has started to run down one side, starting from a wound originating in the animal’s ankle. Slowly, he leads the horse over to Timothy and Danny, who have also dismounted.

“Get some rest while you can,” he tells them. “I need to see which way to go.”

The ground beyond the Bladed Road is much more uneven and spotted with round patches of yellowing grass. There will not be any tracks leftover on this terrain. Safir crouches down to study the tightly-packed dirt between the grass. Overhead, the Dragonspine Mountains frame the sky, dark ice against dark clouds.

“Identishibera.”

He closes his eyes and waits for the spell to work. Images and feelings surface in his mind like apples in a barrel of water. He sees a rabbit, chased by a fox, followed by a wolf. He focuses harder. Magic drains out of him quickly, his age making even simple incantations demanding. But soon, he starts to see something else. A boy, seventeen, riding on a horse. He looks injured and is wrapped in dirty blood-stained bandages. Safir watches him stop, turning his head this way and that as if he too is looking for a way to go. Then finally, he begins eastward, towards the ravines in the distance.

Safir breaks the spell. He sits back on his haunches, breathing hard. Sweat forms on his brow but he doesn't wipe them away. He doesn't want the lads behind him to know how much magic a simple clairvoyance spell has cost him. Grunting, he stands, wobbling a little before catching himself.

“We must be getting close,” he says. “We must be. We have to keep going.”

Timothy comes forward. “Of course, but which way?” he asks. "Is there was nothing back where we came from, there's even less of that out there." He juts his chin out at the barren expanses of tundra stretching all the way to the feet of the domineering Dragonspine Mountains.

“There is always a way,” says Safir. He takes the reins back from Timothy mounts up with effort. “We go north still.”

“Into the mountains?” Danny’s surprised voice booms through the opened fields. “You not said so in your commission, dwarf man.”

Safir kicks his horse into a canter. The animal tries to refuse at first but with some urging, it reluctantly starts to trot.

Moving shockingly fast for someone his size, Danny cuts in front of Safir and forces both their horses to a reeling stop.

“Do not ignore me, dwarf man!” the big boy shouts. “You have tricked us!”

“Get out of the way, meaty lad,” Safir says, soothing his startled mount. “I will add two silver ingots to your pay if you continue on with me.”

“Nay, man,” says Danny. “You want us to follow into hell. I will not do it for all silvers in the realm.”

They stand at an impasse. Safir reaches for his ax. “Then leave. I care not for cowards.”

Timothy catches up then, and moves between them. “There’s no need for this,” he says, though to whom it is not clear. “Not when we’re so close to the end.” He turns to Safir fully and asks, “We are close?”

Safir pauses to come up with an answer. But his hesitation is enough.

Danny barks out a laugh. “You do not know! Aye, I've followed directions of blind men for too long with the knights. I will not continue following blind directions as an adventurer.” He trots closer to Safir and holds out a massive, fleshy palm. “Pay me and be done with it, dwarf man. I will not follow you to knife-edge of death.”

“That’s putting it too harshly, Danny,” Timothy points out. “None of us are poets here. If you want to quit then go ahead, but leave the flowery speech for another time.”

Danny looks at Timothy, shocked. “You are not coming with?”

The mousy boy shakes his head. “I swore to redeem the vile actions of my previous life. I will keep myself to that oath until this commission is officially completed.”

It isn’t clear whether the boy calling himself ‘The meat’ really understands what his companion is saying, but he seems to be trying regardless. Safir watches as the boy's thick brows knit together across his sweaty forehead, and thinks he can even see veins popping out of that tubular neck. Then the boy's eyes suddenly widen like he just remembered leaving his stove on at home.

"Goddesses," he says, pointing at something over Safir's shoulder. "What is that?"

Safir doesn't at first trust to look, but when he hears the surprised shout coming from Timothy, he turns.

Off in the distance, not far and getting closer, is a woman. She’s wearing a tattered adventuring robe that flutters around her slim figure as she staggers towards them.

The party rushes over to help her, their quarrel briefly put aside.

Timothy gets to the woman just as she's about to collapse. He dismounts and catches her in his arms.

Safir and Danny catch up soon after. “Secure the area,” Safir tells the thick boy. “Make sure she isn’t followed.”

But Danny isn’t moving. He’s staring at the woman. She’s naked under the robe, Safir realizes, and a cut of the clothing has slipped to reveal part of a deeply tanned thigh.

“I said go, meat lad!” Safir aims at the underside of Danny’s horse and gives the animal a swift kick, sending it charging away with its rider yelling from its saddle.

Timothy is kneeling on the ground with the woman slumped against him. She isn’t moving but when Safir places a hand on her forehead, her eyelids flutter.

She has the longest eyelashes he has ever seen.

“Madam?” he asks. “Can you hear me?”

The woman’s eyes shoot open. They latch onto him, wild fear rounding her pupils into disks.

“My child!”

With a burst of movement, the woman reaches out and grabs onto Safir’s shirt, pulling him close to her. “Help her!” she cries. “My child, oh goddesses protect her!”

“Calm yourself,” Timothy says, holding the woman back from tearing Safir’s heart out. “We’re here to help you!”

Safir firmly pries the woman’s fingers loose but holds onto her hands. They’re trembling like two drowning fish. “My name is Safir Silverbeard,” he says slowly, hoping formality will pull her back from hysteria. “This boy is named Timothy. There is another called Danny. They are traveling with me to undertake a commission.” He tries to get her to look at him, but the woman is focused on something else. Something far away.

“My child,” she keeps repeating. “My child is still in danger.”

“Where is she?” Timothy asks. “Where is your child?”

The question seems to make snap the woman out of her daze. She points in the direction she has come. “Our caravan was stopped by bandits. My husband told me to run. I should not have. Oh, I should have stayed with them.” She starts to weep, just as Danny returns.

“No one follows,” he says, swinging off his horse to go straight to the woman. “Worry not, beautiful stranger,” he tells her. “You are safe now.” He tries to take her out of Timothy's arms but the woman shoves him away.

"No!" she cries, now trying to crawl away by herself. "I need to get back. I need to die with them!"

"Hey!" says Timothy. "Don't be foolish!"

Safir looks hard towards the direction the woman is trying to go. There's nothing but an endless waste of icy shrubbery. Far beyond that, he can see a low mountain range then farther still, the faint outlines of the Spires, their thin sharp forms piercing into the belly of distant thunderclouds.

Foolish indeed, if this woman thought to travel with her family out here.

The woman’s scream pulls at Safir's attention. Danny is trying to pick her up off the ground but is having trouble with how much she’s struggling. Every time his massive hands grasp at her the woman slips away. Timothy is beside them, not knowing what to do with himself.

“Do not fight me,” Danny urges the woman. “You cannot go back. It is dangerous.”

“Alright that's enough,” Safir says, striding over to put an end to the farce. “Let her sit on my horse. She will lead us there. Won't you, madam?”

The woman looks up from the ground, her face hopeful. Danny refuses to budge. “You wish to now run headfirst into fight?” he asks. “There could be many assailants. We are all worn from traveling. No shape for battle.” He glances at the woman longingly.

Safir pounds a fist into Danny’s stomach. It doesn’t hurt much but forces the boy to double forward so Safir can grab him by the shirt collar.

“Are you a coward as well as a heartless bastard?” He demands, glaring into the big boy's startled, watery eyes. “What happened to you, meat lad, that made you like this? Did someone cut off your balls back at your knight’s castle?”

Lights flash in front of Danny’s eyes. Safir cannot tell if it’s lightning or agony. He doesn’t care. He shoves the boy away before he can hear and answer. He goes to crouch in front of the woman so they can look eye-to-eye.

“Madam,” he says solemnly. “We wish to help you but we can’t do that if you’re not telling us anything. We can’t help your child if you do not gather your wits first.”

Reason returns quickly to the woman’s eyes. They are amber in shade like a yaojin's, Safir notices, but are also sharp in their clarity.

Like little Yue’ling’s.

The woman points again in the direction of the east. This time her fingers do not shake. “I did not go far,” she says. “Our camp should still be there. They… they appeared out of nowhere.”

Safir whistles for his horse. The animal comes limping. "We're almost done," he whispers to the horse as he helps the woman onto it. "Hang in there for just a few more days."

"Thank you," says the woman. "Nranhana bless all of you, kind adventurers."

“Lead us there,” Safir tells her. “Whatever it is we find, I swear we will protect you from it.” He looks to Danny, then to Timothy.

“Aye,” says Timothy. “Saving others is the path of redemption I have sworn to walk.” He mounts up, which only leaves Danny. The big boy grits his teeth and makes a hissing sound. Then he mounts up too.

"I expect payment," he says, to both Safir and the woman.

The woman introduces herself as Ae’ru.

“I am,” she says when Timothy remarks how much it sounds like a beast-folk’s name. “But we prefer calling ourselves yaojin.”

She is a strange woman, Safir notes, and a stranger yaojin. He does not know them to look like her, with white hair and skin so dark she blends into the surrounding rocks.

Perhaps the world has changed much while I was busy grieving.

“I’m sorry,” says Timothy. “I did not mean offense.”

“None taken, good adventurer,” Ae’ru says good-naturedly.

Suspicion tickles Safir’s spine with clawed hands. He asks Ae’ru, “How many were with you in your caravan?”

Ae’ru answers easily. “Five. My husband and his mother, my child and I. And a mercenary we hired.”

The casual way she said that disturbs Safir. It’s too straightforward, like a rehearsed answer. But before he can question her more Ae’ru says, “We are here.”

They've stopped inside a half-circle of broken rock. Each one is as big as a house, with jagged sides marked with thin white scratches. Safir draws one of his axes.

“I don’t see any bodies,” says Timothy, looking around the barren land. “Or anything resembling a caravan.”

“That is because there isn’t one,” says Ae’ru, smiling at him. Her face changes then, subtly at first but then all at once like a mask slipping off the reveal the hideous creature underneath. "And as for bodies, you'll be the first to -"

Timothy cries out, in surprise at first then in horror as the woman suddenly falls off her horse, blood spraying of her side. She crumbles to the ground and is immediately trampled by Safir's horse as the animal reels in shock.

"No!" Danny screams. "What are you doing, dwarf man!"

Safir lunges at Ae'ru, his ax raised above his head. The yaojin's body is twitching crazily, black blood spraying from the deep cut in her side. Without waiting Safir brings his ax down on the woman's head, severing it clean off her shoulders.

A roar forces him to turn. Danny is lumbering towards him, sword drawn. "Murderer!" he cries. "Fiend!"

“Get down!” Safir pulls back his ax and throws. Danny's eyes widen. He falls to the ground, letting the ax fly over him into the body of the dark creature that just sprung out from behind a boulder.

"Arachnids!" Safir yells, pulling his other ax from his back. "Use fire spells!" He watches as more spider creatures scuttle from their hiding places. Each as big as he is, they come from every direction, leaping across the top of boulders and squeezing out from the shadows.

"What is going on!" Timothy is shouting as his horse starts to panic, trying to buck the terrified boy off.

"Dismount!" Safir takes two steps towards the boy and is taken to the ground. He hears the yells of his party members but every sound is quickly drowned out by the gnashing of teeth. He bucks as hard as he can and manages to turn. The spider monster latches on to him, jaws ripping open to show rows of needle-like teeth.

Safir tries to pull his ax-arm free but the spider is clamped onto him tight. The stench of death forces into his nose and his vision is taken up by the monster's multiple red eyes. The monster screeches and presses down harder, making Safir's ears bleed and forcing air from his lungs. With a surge of strength, he yanks his other arm free and grabs onto a mandible as the monster tries to bite him.

“Raikan!” Safir yells into the creature’s face, and closes his eyes.

Even in the dark behind his eyelids, Safir's world lights up. With an elementary roar, lightning leaps from his hand straight through the monster. He doesn't see the monster blasting off him but feels the emptiness it leaves behind. Getting up, he grabs his ax goes to help his team.

The stench of burning hair is thick in the air. Both lads are launching fire from their swords. Around them lay a dozen spiders, their legs twitching in the air as they burn.

But it isn't enough. More spiders are jumping down from the boulders. Safir doesn’t have time to shout a warning before something else gets his attention. Another spider has crept up behind them, and is taking giant bites out of Ae'ru's dead body. Safir raises his ax to blow the spider up but the creature suddenly rears onto its hind legs and screams, the sound loud enough to pierce through the clouds. Then from its hairy back comes a burst of skin and a slender hand emerges through, the nails black as obsidian.

Safir doesn't understand what he is seeing. The strangeness of it, the vileness of it...

The lads are both screaming now. They are outnumbered and their spells are too weak. Every spider they burn or cut down just leaves space for more to fill.

"It's got me!" With a high-pitched scream, Danny falls down amidst a swarm of dark legs.

"No!" cries Timothy as he desperately tries to keep himself afloat. "No! NO!"

Waves of spiders are rolling out from behind the boulders now, their sizes smaller but their numbers too many to count. They cover the ground until it is dark.

Knowing he cannot abandon the lads to their fate, Safir turns away from the hand coming out of the dead spider. Leaping forth, he cleaves one of the monsters in half, splitting its flesh in a spray of blackish blood. Another he kicks aside, then he grabs a third by the legs and hurls into a nearby boulder.

A few of the monsters detach from the lads and come hissing. With an array of spells, Safir sends them all to hell.

He falls to one knee. Sweat pours down his face, into his eyes. His heart is trying to escape from his chest.

Perhaps it is because of the decades of adventuring experience he has under his belt, but at that moment Safir is already thinking three steps into the future. In his mind he is already back on the road, riding towards the northern border alone or with two shaken lads behind him. He will not blame either of them if they want to leave after this. They are green, after all. Such a turn of events is probably something they never expected to experience.

Perhaps it is because he is so experienced, Safir has allowed himself to be somewhat complacent. He cannot help it. There are only so many fights one can get into before it all becomes natural instinct. Though he may not be as spry as a few years ago, he has lived through too many battles to really take them too seriously.

But complacency broods mistakes. And Safir's comes in the form of a fleshy, rippling sound ringing through the battlefield. His beard goes cold as he thinks it's coming from the lads. He whips around, looking for bodies being torn open but instead, he sees Ae'ru stepping out from the dead spider's body.

The yaojin woman is naked as the day she was born. Grinning, she reaches over her head, stretching her gore-covered body taunt. Fresh dark blood begins to cascade from her head as black-colored thorns emerge. The blood curves over her breasts, down her legs and pools by her feet.

Safir is frozen on the spot. He has never seen anything so grotesquely beautiful. So outlandish. So monstrous.

That's another problem with too much experience. You forget how to deal with new things.

Two shadows tear from Ae'ru's back, stretching over her head until they seem to reach the sky. Ae’ru shudders, her eyes half-closed as if she enjoys what is happening. Then, she lets out a moan of ecstasy and unfurls her spider legs in a final burst of blood.

Safir's body takes over but his mind is elsewhere. He sees the fight unfold from a spot above the battlefield. There he is, leaping off a dead spider high above the yaojin woman with his ax raised, a warcry springing from his lips.

Still from his vantage point in the sky, Safir sees Ae'ru smile, whisper, “For Arcadia,” and then impale him with one of her legs.

Safir's world explodes with blood and the hollow gong of thunder, as from the sky, comes the first drops of rain.