Lark sat, gaping like a guppy fish. She could not process what was happening now and was alarmed by her brain’s ability to rationalize a half man and half horse but not able to cope with the possibility of a magical staff in her possession that came to her from her Grandmother. Lark thought this must be some artifact the old crone had picked up from a Shaman or something during her extensive and eccentric globe-trotting adventures.

“Carefully, Lark began, pausing with the effort of replaying fragments of their conversation in her fractured mind. I just bought that… um, staff… at a local market. It could have come from anywhere. I did not know it had any power, so I did not use it on the Craggem… the Craggacat.. Monster-thing.” I have no magic, I am just a woman in University, studying abroad, and I believe I am quite lost.” Well, that was hardly a coherent sentence, admonished Lark, agonizing over the words that had left her lips.

Captain Fallston gazed at her impassively, and he had utter control of her life. Lark felt as though she was already drowning, the seconds ticking down towards her body being cast into the rushing river.

“It is very unusual for someone of no magical talent to be so close to Edgehelm. The University is far from here, and to say you have no magical talent but to be attending that institution is a feeble lie, indeed.”

“Oh crap, oh crap!” How could she have been so dense, of course, she was in a magical land of creatures and wizard schools and monsters with too many teeth. She had read so many novels like this growing up. To be in a fantasyland, you had to survive against ridiculous odds, how in the unknown world was she going to do that?

“I mean, I have some magic of course, I am going to the school to train. This is a staff I purchased with all my money, it is one of the item requirements that came in the letter from an owl.”

“Eeenough! One more lie from your mouth and I will put an arrow through your head”

The centaur swung his massive bow from his back and in a motion that was faster than her eyes could perceive had it notched and aimed between her eyes.

The reference had been bad, she knew that as her stupified brain grasped for straws. This world was clearly very different, she didn’t know what to say that could lead her out of this mess. “I came through the stones,” she croaked.

“Goodbye, mage.”

“Awooo!” A deep, reverberating sound hit Lark’s chest. The sensation was similar to being in a movie theatre while a war film assaulted your eardrums, and booms from artillery vibrated the chair and walls around you. Lark eyed the tent flap nervously, expecting some wolf or even a direwolf to emerge from out of the night.

“Eeenough, Fallston,” Said a soft voice, on the very edge of the fire’s light. “I believe this young woman to be as much a victim as my young Corsalla. An ancient centaur came into the tent, a palomino like the dead filly but with a dull coat and jutting ribs. The age was confirmed when Lark saw the centaur’s torso and then face come into view. The elder had long white hair, braided down her back, all the way to where the womans torso became a horses flesh. She wore a light blue shawl and gold and leather bangles on her thin arms that jostled musically as she outstretched a wriggling dark bundle in her arms.

“Albus!” “I thought you were dead!” Lark cried, the tears she had been choking back springing forth once again. The puppy jumped on her, liberally moistening her cheeks and ears with warm and sloppy kisses, while low whines and grumbles seemed to affirm his contentment.

“I am Cersa, one of the elders of the Fallen Stone tribe. Welcome, young Lark.” Lark looked into the wrinkled face and saw a grave and joyless face. Corsalla was the youngling of my late daughter, her life still fresh and green with youth. We live in a dangerous world; the sprawling plains and foothills were a beacon to her fiery spirit. Today her legs did not carry her from this danger, but in this, I do not judge you. I do not believe the fault lies with you as her spirit and legs roamed and brought her to peril and you to this herd.”

Lark blinked away the tears as they slid unbidden down her cheeks. The anguish in the tent was palpable as the old centaur continued to speak of her granddaughter and the brutal loss of the young filly’s life.

Cersa continued after a long pause filled with sniffling from Lark and whining from Albus, “you will go with the warrior band as they search for any other dangers and clear the herd’s lands. You have said you are a student of magic at the University, and although you are new, you may gain some experience. After Captain Fallston will leave you at the border of our lands, we are within a day’s walk of Edgehelm on a road that is well patrolled. You will be our guest tonight and may ride out at first light.”

With a swish of her tail, the elder left the tent, leaving Lark gaping after her. Ok, you have to relax, she told herself with a stern inner voice. This is good, you are alive for now in this villagey-herd area. The monsters are out there but you are in here and I suppose you are protected by these testosterone and rage-filled ponies. Lark managed a weak chuckle that once again attracted the attention of her captor.

“Care to let me in on the joke, little mage?” Lark looked up coldly, some of her fear lost at the words of the elder. She had promised an escort to the road in which she could escape to a town or city named Edgehelm. “Does the grief of the herd amuse you?.”

“No!” Lark hissed, injecting as much venom as would allow in her battered and bruised state. Lark and Fallstons eyes met as he stood by the fire as it crackled and snapped in the long silence. “No,” she repeated softly. “I find no amusement here, the adventure is not worth whatever price will be asked of me to pay.” Lark had dropped her eyes, attempting to conceal her fear and vulnerability. She lifted them as she continued, “I do not know how I will get home… I mean, back to school to study tmagic of course, but I will find a way.” Captain Fallston was looking at her, with what may have been curiosity? She had only seen his eyes appear wary or angry, but they were bright and keen, filled with questions she did not have answers for.

“A guard will be placed outside the tent as you sleep, and I will retain your staff until we set out tomorrow.”

“Ok, that’s fine,” Lark whispered, she had no energy to ponder the mystery of the magical toad staff. “Is it possible to get something to eat?”

“Captain Fallston realized suddenly that the prisoner had gone through massive injuries and extensive healing, without being offered nutrition when she woke. Soon, she would slip into a sleep that was difficult to manage even with potions. “Stupid”, he admonished to himself. That was an oversight that new soldiers made, not seasoned veterans such as himself. “Of course, I will have something brought to you, although the Elder called you a guest, you will remain here so as not to disturb the mourning of young Corsallas kin.” He half expected some retort from the human but she only dragged her eyes down and murmured her agreement. With no further words, the Captain left the tent, his huge form disappearing quietly into the night air.

Finally alone, Lark lay huddled against the furs, wishing sleep would take her so her misery could end. She hadn’t been lying though, she was famished and the remaining pastries from Greggs were gone along with the other contents and her backpack. An almost imperceptible noise outside the tent made Lark lift her head in alarm.

“Peace, young Lark.” It was Cersa, she was back and was carrying a plate of food, Larks staff and her backpack!

“You have strange items with you, some things I have never seen and some things I have but only once”. Cersa looked levelly at the young woman, fresh with green life and felt sad for the things to come.

“Long ago, she began, I met a human female similar to yourself who stumbled into these parts carrying strange objects and she too claimed she was lost and afraid. I helped her because we were younglings, both fresh and pure with spirits of fire. I showed her the way to Edgehelm so she may get aid from the other humans. Mina shared many things with me, many of which I did not believe until I saw you brought into this tent. Another youngling I thought, found by the way stones with strange artifacts and clothing I do not recognize. Mina told me of the great city she was from, with soaring keeps that reach the sky. I laughed then, the stories she spun filled me like nothing ever had. I saw her again on a battlefield many years later with that staff of immense power that you carry now. We did not meet, the battle would not allow it but I watched for her as best as I could. She died in that battle, so how that staff has come to you will remain your secret but know that it is dangerous. If I can advise you at all, do not speak to any one of what I have told you, and for now, hold your secrets close.”

Lark knew the Elder spoke the truth, her Grandmother had been here before, but she was wrong. Mina had not died on that battlefield long ago, her Grandmother had come back through the stones, and if she could, then Lark knew she would also find a way.