“Where is my child?”

The child’s name was Meredi, and she was less than 3 suns old. Everyone in the village knew her, the tiny daughter of the tavern landlord and his cheery wife.

The wife was not cheery now, grasping her husband by the arm whilst screaming over the sounds of the camp in the square. Her face was blotched with fear and anger, her eyes alternating between pleading and accusing.

“Where is she!?”

Everyone in the village knew Meredi. She skipped around the village every day and took delight in greeting each and every person, trusting them implicitly.

“What have you done with my child!?”

Apparently this time she hadn't come home. Rial wondered what had happened to her.

"Tell me!"

The tavern landlord was holding his wife by one shoulder, the other hand clenching at the half-drawn blade at his side. Rial, chained as every evening to the post at the side of the square, wondered where he had got it; he was a member of no Family.

Truth be told, Rial was having trouble focusing on the scene. The Kotaku had withheld water from him for all of the unusually-warm day just past, and for some reason his right leg felt like fire. He couldn't see past the cangue to find out why.

"Where is my daughter?"

This was the husband, voice a low growl, calmer yet more threatening.

A crowd of villagers stood behind the couple, many carrying implements that would ordinarily have been used to plough fields or fashion tools yet had this night become cruel and vicious promises of violence. An array of biting curves and sharp points glinted in the moonlight.

Rial giggled as the world shook. He was surprised any metal remained that wasn't part of some crude sword.

"Tell us where she is!" shouted someone from the clustered villagers.

The world really was swaying alarmingly, thought Rial. He was surprised no one else noticed it.

By now the entire population of the tents had roused, many watching nervously from where they huddled but several that Rial could see slowly reaching for anything that could be used as a weapon. A small group of men and women were quietly but hurriedly ushering as many children as they could away from the ongoing confrontation.

"Look!" cried the distraught mother, "They're trying to hide those children!"

Angered growls rose from both sides, and some of the villagers took a step forward. Most of the tent-dwellers stepped back in response, but a handful made their own challenging step forward. There was now only a man's length between the closest antagonists.

Rial giggled again. He didn't understand why they didn't fall down when everything was so... wavy.

Somebody caught him as his legs buckled, supporting him and helping him to land softly on the ground. He was not lucid of anything for the next few seconds, until the splash of blessed liquid hit his lips. He guzzled at the proffered bottle until it was empty, and the world ceased its constant spinning - or at least slowed.

The clank of metal scraping against metal.

Rial opened eyes he hadn't realised he had closed to see Trian straining at one of the cangue chains with a large set of smith's cutters, the same type used to cut the exotic wire frames that were sometimes purchased on trips to the outpost.[1] The sharp blades trembled as Trian increased the pressure, struggling to cut through the link.

The chain snapped abruptly, half of it tumbling to the ground in front of Rial. That was all that was needed; the lock on one side of the planks around his neck came loose and he felt them part.

He pushed the cangue over his head to fall to the floor.

"I couldn't let this go on," said Trian. "Look what he's... they're doing to you."

Rial hadn't seen his own body since the wood sealed around his neck, and he shuddered as he looked down.

His arms were stick thin, muscle gone. His legs, too, had wasted away, though not to the extent of his arms. The clothes he wore, the same as when he had first been locked in, were torn and bloody. One source of blood was most obvious; a large gash ran down the side of his leg, oozing black in the gloom. He had no idea when or how that had happened.

Trian forced something into his hands. It took Rial a while to realise it was Brin's old sword, still in its crimson sheath. He feebly tied it to his waist, far tighter than the last time he had worn it, and thanked Trian.

A scream made him look up.

A fight had broken out, though who had made the first move was impossible to tell. One of the refugees, a large man with a thick beard, had fallen back onto the ground, one hand grasping at the opposite arm where a long gash now showed, blood trickling between his fingers. On the opposite side a woman clutched at her side; Rial couldn't see any injury in the dark, but it sounded like she was badly hurt.

The fight blossomed from there, the glint of swinging metal and the sound of violence echoing across the village. First another villager went down, then another member of the camp.

"We have to go," hissed Trian, grabbing at Rial's hand as the weakened man stared at the unfolding chaos. Rial staggered to his feet as he was pulled, still dazed. They half-ran, half-fell into the darkness of the forest.

Something about the forests at night swallowed sound. The cries of pain and clashes of weapons that had filled the square disappeared quickly as they clambered over the weeds that grew thicker than Rial had ever seen.

At least, thicker than he had seen so close to the village. His memory flew back to the trek to reach the springhead and he knew the ivy beneath his feet would be purple, the leaves blotched red with poison.

"Stop," he called out, coming to a halt himself.

Trian took a few more steps before realising he was now advancing alone. He turned around, bewildered.

"What is it? There's no time; we have to go before the Kotaku..."

"Trian, where did they put the treasure?" Rial asked.

He could see Trian's eyes widen even in the darkness.

"The treasure? The treasure? What in the hells are you talking about? We need..."

Whatever Trian was going to say was cut off by a deep growl that rumbled behind him. He froze.

Rial froze too. Violet eyes shone in the moonlight beyond Trian's shoulder, pacing back and forth to focus on him.

Another growl, and another set of eyes, this time further to Trian's side.

The next set of growls let them know they were surrounded. Violet glimmered all around.

Trian span, whimpering in terror. He was not even carrying a sword.

"The treasure, Trian. Where is it?" said Rial, with more calm than he felt.

"Huh... what?" Trian stammered, gaze moving in panic across each set of eyes.

"The treasure. Where... is... it?" Rial insisted, reaching out with a hand to steady his friend.

"The...? Um, they put it back in the pagoda. But Rial..."

Rial was already stepping away. The khiladri parted before him, allowing him to pass, then closed ranks again.

"You have to go back to the village, Trian. I'm sorry, they won't let you pass."

The pain and exhaustion was still there, promising to drag him down into its depths at the first chance, but Rial was able to fight it. At least, for as long as he needed. There was something else there too, now, whispering in the back of his head.

"I can't... How are you..? Rial, I can't go back! I freed you. They'll exile me, or worse!"

Rial paused mid-step. He hadn't thought of that, and the sudden wrench he felt nearly destroyed his focus altogether. He knew he could not lose the whispering voice, or he would be lost too.

"I will come back. Soon. I will come back for you, I promise," he said, turning briefly to direct his words. "You have to go back, Trian. The khiladri will kill you otherwise. Take the body of the girl too; she must have tried to go too far."

Rial stepped into the shadows as Trian looked down.

The body of Meredi, somehow even smaller now, lay there. Her neck had been snapped, the teeth marks of the beasts that now slowly advanced on him clear against her deathly-pale skin.

He grabbed her up, and ran.

[1] These frames had numerous uses, from protecting crops from the predations of wildlife to extending the very height to which they could grow. The making of these mesh frames, however, was a mystery to those in the village.