“Darkness doesn't find us on its own, Theia. It is vain. It wants to be invited.”

- Krassi Zourkova, Wildalone

They woke in the morning, their sleep was deep and undisturbed.

Mireille sat up and moved her leg gingerly, wincing as she rubbed the wounded area.

Alyssa regarded her with a bit of worry. “How are you, does your leg still hurt? I am still not the healer I should be, I have so much to learn.”

“It is far better than it has any right to be, but I am glad to take it easy for a short while, sister dear.”

Alyssa grinned but then promptly scolded her: “Keep it up and my compassion will vanish promptly!”

Nodding at that, Alyssa softly questioned Asandria “Good morning, did you see Vanessa? Was she here?”

The ghost hung without movement in a shadowed corner of the tent, as she was addressed she lifted her head and answered: ‘Yes she observed the debris of yesterday's battle, then looked through the camp to ascertain your well-being. After she was satisfied, she gave me this message for you: 'Join the group for the moment, you need all the friends and allies you can get. I will contact you when it is feasible.’

Thus informed she told Mireille who smiled and said: “I like her a lot, more because of her saving us repeatedly, but I can do without the training for a day or two. And the leg is only one reason.”

They went outside and were greeted with a misty and overhung autumn morning. Bare branches were still in the minority but the woods around them had still shed a lot of leaves, coating the tents and ground liberally.

“Good morning my esteemed guests. Breakfast is ready!” Lucien announced as he saw them exit the tent looking much too cheerful to the still sleepy Mireille.

“Good morning Mr. Caravar. Thank you, we will come over.” Alyssa replied while helping Mireille stand up out of the low tent opening.

Breakfast consisted of grilled bread and some soup. It was warm, filling, and relatively tasty.

The young man was also present and looked pleased to finally introduce himself. He had dark hair cut to just above his shoulders, dark blue eyes, with a straight nose and thin lips. “I am Maximilian Dermot von Graufurt. I thank you for my treatment. It feels much better than I had any hope it would." Gesturing at the others gathered around in various stages of injury he continued, "you are a gifted healer. But where are my manners how may I address you?”

“Alyssa Miner, this here is Cyrus my familiar. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Cyrus regarded everything around him curiously while eating a bit of dried meat.

“Mireille Annirstochter, pleased to meet you!”

“You were very courageous rushing to our help, and it is with deep regret that I heard that you were wounded?” Maximilian looked at Mireille's outstretched leg, bending it was still painful.

Mireille smiled and answered. “I was merely stupid, normally it should not have happened. But it all worked out in the end.”

Alyssa gave her a sharp look at the flippant tone. “I think healing wounds might lead to you disregarding them. Next time it's stitches!”

Mireille did her best to look sufficiently pitiful.

The young man looked amused but went serious again while saying: “It was a near thing, without you both it would have cost a lot more in lives and pain if we had fought them back at all.”

Caravar, who had looked on in silence while savoring his soup spoke up. “What fortune sent you to our aid, if I may ask?”

Alyssa smiled a bit at the exaggerated courtesy. “We are on our way to Grunewald and then on to Kronenburg. I wanted to study in the Academy of the Arts if possible.”

“That is a fine coincidence. I myself am enrolled there.” Maximilian gestured at the tower and star emblem on his tunic. “I am a third-year which would make me your senior if you are accepted. Our meeting is not so strange as you might think. The winter semester begins in a week and I have just begun the journey to Kronenburg from my family's estate. There will be more students on the road, I am sure.”

“Do you know a scholar named Escaldis Aldrnari? I have a letter of recommendation for him.”

“Yes I do know of him, he is one of the professors teaching applied elemental evocation and conjuration. I think he had a specialty in fire? But he is no teacher of mine so I cannot say for sure. The curriculum is so extensive that you cannot possibly take every class and live through it. Normally you have one or two of the elements, then a magical craft and naturally theoretical and historical uses of magic. There is even a whole wing of the academy which is reserved for mundane subjects like art, law, architecture, mathematics, and philosophy. I might have forgotten one or two.”

Mireille nudged Alyssa. “Seems like it would be fun. But am I wrong or are there no purely martial classes?”

Maximilian answered. “There are a few actually, the major weapon groups have smaller classes for those interested. It's more like an afterschool club? Then there are military tactics and siegework. But soldiers are trained in the military quarter of Kronenburg. The academy is,” he coughed somewhat embarrassed, “for academical studies mostly.”

“We will see when we get there. You are not purely martial either.” Alyssa looked at Mireille a bit worriedly.

“Mh. It makes sense to think about what you would study, but there are aptitude tests and such. No one wants to waste time and energy teaching, and learning, what does not fit or has no future. At least my teacher Miss Harrington thinks that way. And it echoes academy policy.”

“Would it be possible to accompany you on the way? It seems dangerous for us two alone, even if we are not helpless. And it seems we share the same route?” Alyssa inquired.

“It would be my pleasure. We will visit with my sister Alea in Grunewald and take her with us on the further journey. It will only be a small detour, and I would like to insist that you stay with us at the townhouse. I can assure you it's much better than an inn or the forest floor.” He grinned. “She is staying with relatives but needs to get to the academy for her enrollment as a first-year too.”

The rest of the mercenaries were recuperating and guarding the captured bandits. Quickly counting them there were seven of them. With the benefit of magical healing, the group could, slowly, begin their travels late in the morning.

Maximilian was a witty if somewhat reserved traveling companion, he joked that he had the dour disposition of his grandfather, which had passed his father by.

Lucien was still grateful for the help and solicitous towards the two friends. Telling them of his travels on the Coast of Dreams, as the people in Margrinar poetically named the shores of the Sea of Origin, the waters around sunken Allisair.

Pareus was the greatest trading port in human-controlled regions, Kronenburg being a river city with a port rivaling but most certainly not exceeding the former.

Farther to the north were the lands of the Broken. The name stems from those who broke the swords gifted to them by the god-king of Allisair to signify the dissolution of their feudal obligations. As the boats loaded with refugees coming from the sunken isle landed on the continent of Naletar there was a lot of blame thrown around and the old noble families bore the brunt of it not altogether unwarranted as far as is known. Nonetheless, they had the most military and magical might, so the new nation Margrinar was essentially a continuation of Allissairs territory, customs, and nobility. The ones most dissatisfied with it went north after severing the magical ties, the south being a bit complicated because of relations with the Snake people.

Lucien had had dealings with some of the larger ‘kingdoms’ of the Broken because they stood at the forefront of the battles with the indigenous people and monsters.

He regaled them with probably a bit sanitized anecdotes for no one died and it was always somewhat heroic, humorous, or both.

“…and we drove through their midst, scattering the foul goblinoids as we raced towards freedom, the child-prince behind me on the saddle. The sorceress was as good as her word and with the charm around my neck, no arrow touched me or the young heir. We were hosted and feasted for a week after we got back. It was a good time.” Lucien sighed a bit exaggeratedly.

“Was it a good thing moneywise?” asked Mireille. “The prince's people were poor you said.”

“You don’t have a romantic bone in your body do you?” Lucien raised an eyebrow. “They might not have had a lot of money, but being in the far wilderness gave them a lot of exotic pelts and resources. Lets not dwell on that too much but we made a tidy profit selling that in Kronenburg. And we got a blessing of Irkonos.”

“Thank you for the story,” Alyssa smiled.

As they traveled farther the forest became less dense and was soon succeeded by farmland. This land then slowly fell towards a river glittering in the afternoon sun. A city surrounded the river on both sides with two bridges spanning the water. A few sails bobbed with the current as riverboats used every means to gain a bit more speed.

Then they came across outlying farmhouses and barns, but there were signs of arson, where patches of fields were burned, even two ruins blackened from an intense fire.

They were soon hailed by a patrol of five soldiers in livery sporting a green tree on a yellow field carrying crossbows besides spears and shields. Lucien explained before they were in hearing range that those were the colors of Grunewald.

“Greetings travelers, we have to ask, who are you and what brings you into the territory of Grunewald?”

“We are Caravars Cavaliers escorting the young master von Graufurt. And these here are bandits we captured while trying to rob us.”

“Bandits, you say? It certainly seems that way, we will have to look into this in more detail but first, we will escort you to Grunewald and the house of justice. If you like you could tell me about it.” The last was addressed towards Maximilian.

“Yes, and I hope that Mr. Caravar is then sufficient for the testimony. The journey was longer and more unpleasant this time.” He indicated his arm, still hanging in a sling.

“Yes, I think that will be sufficient. With so many prisoners, one of them will always talk for some special consideration, isn't that so?” The last was spoken towards the bound bandits who at the moment looked sullen, most of them sporting makeshift bandages.

One of them looking hopeful spoke hastily. “I had no choice! They forced me. It was this or a blade to the neck. Please! I will talk.”

The one beside him gave him a hard kick to the side and the young man fell heavily, hands bound he could not arrest his fall. The mercenary supervising this part of the group gave a harsh slap to the back of the head of the culprit. “Stop it. We don’t have time for this nonsense.”

The rider laughed, showing uneven teeth. “Always one that talks. I will remember you boy. If you talk and make it good, I will put in a good word. Can't guarantee it will be pretty, but you won't be hanged at least.” He let his eyes roam over the rest of the disheveled captives, who avoided his gaze.

Alyssa and Mireille kept in the background, the leader of the small squad eyed Cyrus curiously then obviously dismissing them he turned his horse and rode ahead, his men then taking escort positions.

They told the guardsman a succinct summary of the ambush with Lucien fielding most questions, the young noble pleading exhaustion.

“I have to tell you, my sister can be a tad eccentric. So please take what you see and hear in stride.” Maximilian spoke up as they had nearly reached the gates.

The city had progressively been constructed on both sides of the river, times of peace had let the houses spill beyond the great protective walls, most likely necessitating a new wall sometime in the future. Bustling with life, the narrow cobbled streets thronged with all sorts of peoples and carts drawn by horses and oxen. Alyssa and Mireille saw some dwarves going after their livelihood and even a snake folk merchant. Alyssa was astounded at the variety, having only seen Firswending, while Mireille was more used to it, Saintscrossing her former home also being a large city.

The mercenaries efficiently helped by the patrol made way for the captives, the young master, and the two friends. At the central plaza where the large main road wound towards a large bridge, they separated. Lucien bowed and said: “We will meet at the townhouse. I will take care of the formalities. May I mention your family name if necessary?”

“Yes, you may as long as it is needed and prudent,” Maximilian answered.

A minor magician in vibrantly colored clothing entertained a group of townspeople with animals formed of colored smoke dancing over a small brazier. There were some musicians who played a cheerful melody, most of the plaza was given over to market stalls and shops.

The merchants called from their booths trying to entice passersby with fish or fresh produce.

Ignoring all that they went over the bridge, made of stone and large enough for two wagons to pass each other comfortably without endangering the foot traffic. A riverboat drifted underneath.

On the other side of the river, they took a turn to the left and the houses became bigger, the walls higher and the surroundings more quiet.

Ivy hung on old walls and the gardens, as far as could be seen between wrought iron bars of were elegant and well-tended.

And then they stopped before a large house within sight of the river, a large brick wall surrounding the estate was topped with iron spikes. The coat of arms beside the gate fit for a carriage showed the Graufurt heraldry with the addition of three stars underneath.

A servant opened the gate when called with a probably magically sounding bell after one of the mercenaries had rapped a knocker three times.

“Welcome Master von Graufurt.” Blinking the old servant realized that Maximilian carried his arm in a sling and was still looking somewhat ill and pale. “Do you need a physician? I can have someone call the doctor. Please, first come inside. I will take care of your escort if you will.”

“Gerald, it is alright. I had the fortune that after running afoul of some villains on the road, this young lady here Mrs. Miner healed and treated my wounds. She and her…” he paused “...sister?” There was a hint of a question in that last sentence as he realized that they had differing last names. But then he shook his head. “They are to be treated as honored guests. With no small danger to their lives and even getting seriously wounded, they came to our aid and even helped with the injured afterward.”

The old servant nodded respectfully and bade them enter. He was at least fifty years of age, dignified looking and his clothes were pressed and starched linen in the colors of silver, more a tone of grey really, and blue.

As they came into the foyer they were greeted by a girl who was probably near Alyssa's age, perhaps a bit younger, and of very pale complexion, emphasized by her ebony hair, looking like a doll. She stood straight while being of small built, around one and a half meters.

She had a soft-looking, tightly wound, dark blue silk band covering her eyes stitched with runes. She wore a heavily frilled dark blue, black and silver dress. On her right shoulder sat a contraption of wires and copper with two faceted crystals instead of eyes, looking like a very big spider. With a nearly inaudible whirring sound, the head of the spider swiveled taking in the newcomers the legs, clicking, shifted to make that easier.

Maximilian coughed into his fist. “Ahem. May I introduce my sister Alea.”