"It sounds simple enough... but that's the problem." Koren stared off into the night, arms folded.

Andrin sat with me in the circle of light cast by our campfire. "I don't know how simple it is. Bërrha sounds like a powerful Solace. Surely there's a more diplomatic solution to Maeldok's problem."

I sighed. "Maybe, but not to mine. I don't want to face Bërrha either, but I need to know how to control this magic."

"But what's in it for Maeldok? You get this prince out of the way for him? Why can't Baldük-kre solve its own problems?" Koren folded his arms. "I don't like it."

I spread my hands. "What choice do I have though? He's actually taught me a few things, and he'll teach me more soon. And he saved my life," I added quietly. "Which saved yours." I nodded to Andrin.

"And yours, Koren." Andrin's eyes were lost in the flames. "Most Animaré don't survive once... well, we know," he finished softly.

"He wants you for something Sedris. Something big." Finally turning to face us, Koren's brow was furrowed. Shadows danced along his face and leapt to the trees behind him. "I just don't know what."

"What did he first say to you again, Sedris?" Andrin nudged my shoulder. "Something about this prince oppressing the people?"

"Yeah," I mumbled. "He didn't tell me too much, but from what we've seen of the Ska'al, Bërrha can't be that great a guy."

"It's still so strange to me that he found you in the middle of the mountains." Koren fixed me with shrewd eyes. "He just appeared out of thin air right there and then? You'd never even seen him before?"

"I'm curious about that too, but he is a Channeler," Andrin added. "I've read plenty of weird stuff about them."

I forced myself to meet Koren's gaze. "He must've been following me for a while." It wasn't technically a lie. He sure followed me for a long time. I fidgeted, running a hand through my hair.

"That does make sense," Koren agreed, putting the story together in his mind. "Sedris does have a signature presence now."

"What's that supposed to mean!"

"Koren..." Andrin interjected.

Koren tried to backtrack. "I just mean that, um, you—"

"—the currents move differently through you now. Nothing you didn't know already." Andrin tossed his Animaré a look, but returned his reassuring gaze to me. "But we have also been wondering about it, if you're willing to tell us.

I sighed. No, I didn't feel like talking about being a Solace. But at the same time, my friends had a right to know. It was only fair. "I'll answer as many questions as I can. I don't want to shut you two out."

So I told them things. I told them how the currents didn't answer me, how they just tangled and knotted and tumbled. I told them how frustrating it was to see nothing in them, like the muscle to call their power had been ripped out of me. I explained how exhausting it was with no magic.

We talked for a long time, and even though it was hard, I felt closer to them than I had been in a long time. They listened as the fire died down, as I wrestled to describe the Solace magic's hunger to be released.

And we talked about Lylisia. We told each other how much we missed her, we laughed about some of the things she said.

It was almost like grieving together eased the pain of her absence, for all of us. But when our shadows grew taller from the dying fire and Andrin's eyelids drifted closed, and only Koren and I were left to cherish the memories we had of left of her, the darkness whispered questions in my ears.

Koren didn't laugh much, usually. Andrin helped fix that sometimes. They needed each other, one so the other could lighten up, the other so the one be realistic. It was easy to see why their Bond was strong.

Was ours that strong?

Koren asked a question and I mumbled something back.

It was hard to say why I needed her, not because I didn't—every day I reached for her soul, only to come up empty—but because it was hard to name just one reason.

She was my best friend. My greatest supporter, the one who never lost faith in me.

She brought me joy even when the road ahead was bleak.

She felt right from in her gut, when I was still thinking it through.

She—stop.

She's gone.

The stern voice in my head was a lance through my heart. Koren was laughing, poking Andrin's side. The yellow embers stared back at me, winking to orange, yellow, red, and then bright green. Eyes glassy, I lifted my head slowly to see the campsite bathed in a green glow, the laughter of my friends now eerie in the dark and quiet—no, the pouring rain drowned them out, their faces frozen in now grotesque mirth. An arrow silently silently shattered the mug Koren lifted to his lips, the grin still stretched across his face, untouched by the shards of white light scattered into the green flames. Another arrow of light was already singing silently through the pouring rain, the heartbeat in my ears drowning out the clap of thunder.

From a faraway place I heard myself ask, "How did she die?"

The two looked at me with a start. There was no green tinge painted on the world. No rain. They had just laughed into the peaceful night.

"Sedris..."

"Andrin, I saw it happen. I know."

"Then—"

"Who was it?" I was pleading. My body was shot. I hadn't eaten enough, hadn't slept enough. But I couldn't stop asking the question. "How?"

"Sedris I... I tried to save her," Koren whispered. "It—"

"I know." I laid down and turned away to hide my face. The tear rolled across my nose instead. It wasn't his fault. But I didn't know whose it was.

Hushed silence fell. I needed to sleep it off. My tired mind had had enough. The nightmares could come, I just needed rest.

Come they did.

That fateful night wouldn't leave my sleeping mind, my world consumed by pounding rain, green light, and searing pain. I tried to escape the dream a dozen times, but it seemed no matter where I turned, Lylisia was falling, falling, falling to the ground with a bright white light. Until finally...

I turned away from the cliff, and this time found myself striding along a dusty path into town. The sun swung lazily in the dark sky above—or was it the moon? I turned to Andrin to ask a question, but caught the eye of a young child, a girl.

She looked familiar.

Wide eyes locked with mine beneath a curtain of silver hair, and I found it hard to tear my gaze from hers. We walked closer, the others not noticing the girl, when the beat of boots on packed dirt drifted into earshot on the wind.

I whirled around and they were on us. Ska'al. The sun went dark and shouts filled the dusty air. One warrior barreled into me and I threw him off, knife drawn without blinking.

Another Ska'al was bearing down on the girl, whose eyes were now wide with fear, locked on the monster before her rather than mine.

I leapt to my feet threw myself at the man, anything to buy the child time to run.

A backhanded swing caught me in the temple and my vision exploded in bright lights. I tasted dust and blood.

Through blurry eyes I saw the tall warrior—now taller than any man I'd seen—glance coolly between the girl and myself. A fire erupted into life in the town, and somebody screamed.

"Sedris!"

I gasped awake, drenched in a cold sweat, my knuckles white on the handle of Lylisia's old blade.

Andrin kept hold of my shoulders, giving them another good shake to be sure. "Hey buddy, just a dream! It's alright!"

"I'm awake, I'm awake!" I gave Andrin a squeeze on the shoulder and he let go. My breathing was deep, but the dream quickly faded from my mind's eye. Just a dream, just more Ska'al. Nothing new.

"No Ska'al here Sed, put down the knife." Koren's sleepy voice was even. "I've got a feeling they stayed far away from that monster they sent after us."

I nodded quickly and stowed the blade, a slight flush rising to my cheeks. Nobody else had nightmares and or screamed in their sleep.

Andrin gave my arm a pat. "It's been a lot recently, but just try to sleep. We'll be in Aelridia before you know it."

My head bobbed automatically and I laid down again. The girl's face swam into view again as I closed my eyes, the murky image still striking. I knew her. Or did I?

Lyl?

* * *

Andrin had a spring in his step. His lanky frame practically skipped a few paces ahead of me, kicking dust into the warm air. The day was sunny as ever, the open road radiating heat as far as we could see. Koren rolled his eyes.

"We're not home free yet Andrin," he said sternly. I knew better—his usually knitted brows were finally freed from one another.

"Not with an attitude like that we're not!" Andrin chirped from the front.

Troubled as I was from my turbulent sleep, I tried to focus on our most recent triumph. Andrin's limp was almost gone, his body bouncing back at a miraculous rate after a full night's rest and a day with Azendrine in his system. Clearly the medicine worked wonders I had hardly imagined.

Koren was almost smiling now. "I'll never quite have an attitude like yours," he shot me a glance as he replied, "but I do admire it your optimism."

I shook my head, glad to have their friendly bickering back. It was strange to say that I had missed it. Things seemed like they could be normal again.

"Maeldok will be waiting for us in Yeandol. He said he had something to do, but he'd be ready to come to Aelridia."

Koren nodded, keeping whatever thoughts had sprung to his tongue quiet. Andrin did no such thing.

"I'd like to see what he's all about when we meet him. Now it's true he saved your life from that Ska'al, and we won't forget it." Andrin nodded to me, walking backwards to face us. "But I'd like to hear what he has to say myself. It's just a hard story to swallow, like it's too convenient that you need him and he needs you."

"You'll both be able to hear him out." I kept my voice steady, though for some reason I felt a bit defensive. Maybe it was Koren's silence.

My worries were soon to be laid to rest, however, as the town slowly grew around us.

Yeandol was a small merchant town in the countryside of Corvelen. It's location along the Northern Road made it an excellent stop for anyone with goods to sell. Not all traffic to Aelridia passed through it—other roads more directly connected the capital to cities like Reill and the wealthy northern regions—but for the poorer southern towns, Yeandol was the center of trade.

For the first time in months, we found ourselves walking along behind other travelers. While Andrin and Koren grew wary—I could see it in their stiff strides—I was more at ease. It was a relief to finally blend in, looking for all the world like three ordinary young men. We could be farmhands, or traders, or sons of a modest mason.

Well, I laughed to myself, aside from the hulking Baldük.

It was true. Sometimes Andrin stuck out like a sore thumb. He usually towered over Corvelen men, his gray skin marking him as a foreigner before he even spoke a word. He had no accent, of course, having never known his Baldük roots, but it didn't matter. The Corvel were simply wary of their gray-skinned neighbors, and vice versa.

My attention drifted lazily back to the dusty road. I turned to Andrin to ask a question, but caught the eye of a young child, a girl.

Those eyes...

She looked familiar.

Have I seen her before?

Wide eyes locked with mine beneath a curtain of silver hair, and I found it hard to tear my gaze from hers.

Why stare at me?

We walked closer, the others not noticing the girl, when the beat of boots on packed dirt drifted into earshot on the wind.

The dream.

I whirled around, fingers closing on the hilt of my knife, when Koren yanked me to the side.

The Corvel soldiers jogged easily past, armor clinking and boots kicking up a storm of dust in their wake. The insignia of Reill gleamed gold on their silver pauldrons, the shoulder armor a signature of the elite guard.

I breathed a deep sigh of relief. The dream was wrong. The Ska'al are far away.

"Keep your heads down." Koren kept his voice low and his hood up. He was right. We weren't necessarily safer with Corvel guards than we were with Ska'al.

I peeked my head around carefully, trying to catch sight of the girl, but she was gone. We were almost in the heart of the market, and many folk had shrunk back from the road as the guards made their way into town. The Corvel weren't known to be cruel, but the people were sure to cooperate anyway. Andrin had always said it was out of respect—Koren said out of fear.

It was hard to tell which was the reality. Some villagers cheered as the guards rolled in, others shrank into their homes or kept their heads low in market stalls.

The guards soon clanked out of sight. There wasn't an army of them, but after I had counted to thirty it was clear we didn't want to be discovered.

My hood was getting hot in the afternoon sun, so I pulled it back down. Andrin and Koren did the same.

"Where are we supposed to be meeting him?" Koren asked me in a low voice. He scanned the crowd furtively. "I hope he has a place to lay low. I'm sure the Corvel don't know us on sight like the Ska'al, but it puts me on edge anyway."

I nodded to the tavern ahead of us. "I say we wait in there. He's got to be staying somewhere."

My friends agreed and we made our way casually to the door. It creaked as it opened, the sound uncomfortably loud in the muted atmosphere inside. Whereas the marketplace was bustling with shoppers haggling over prices and merchants shouting their wares, the afternoon crowd of the bar was far less colorful. The few drinkers looked up as we arrived, but turned back to their drinks. The bartender eyed us as we approached him, and I did a quick sweep of the place for Maeldok.

"We're looking for a friend, here to meet about a grain sale." Andrin casually leaned against the bar, somewhat hiding his height. "Tall, beard, older fellow."

I'd heard the story a hundred times but still loved to watch Andrin work his magic. He and Lylisia were usually the spokespeople when we dealt with buyers or sellers. I couldn't count how many times we'd met someone for a job about a "grain sale," and the barkeep swallowed the story just as usual.

"Baldük too?" he asked gruffly. One eye stared, wide and lazy, at the floor, the other peered at Andrin's gray face.

"That's the one," came the reply. Andrin didn't skip a beat, flashing a reassuring smile.

The bartender seemed to consider for another second before he jerked his head to a corner of the tavern. "Not sure why yer asking me where the man is, he's sat there the whole time."

I swiveled, surprised, and found Maeldok sitting in the corner, far from the single unshuttered window, but not hidden at all. How did I not notice?

The Animaré seemed equally surprised. Andrin's cool mask slipped for a moment, but he recovered quickly and thanked the bartender. Koren's raised eyebrows told me he was in the same boat.

The bartender spoke up again. "Yer friend tips good. I ain't like other folk round here. You tip an' don't make no trouble, yer a friend of mine, gray skin or not."

Andrin thanked the man and we made our way over to Maeldok.

He didn't say anything as we sat down around his table, but bowed his head in greeting.

I cleared my throat awkwardly. "Hello Maeldok, um, this is Andrin and Koren. Guys, meet Maeldok."

Andrin mumbled a greeting. Koren said nothing.

Maeldok finally lowered his hood. Dark beard tinged with gray, gray skin, dark eyes—the same man I'd met the night Lylisia was killed. But his sinister air of mystery was fading, and I welcomed the change.

"Greetings friends," he started, showing a gloved hand. "My deepest regrets that I appeared to Sedris alone, and only now make your acquaintance. Under the circumstances, I thought it best to approach Sedris first, as the decision was his to make." He turned to me. "Do we still have a deal?"

Like I could say no. "We have a deal." There was time to deal with Bërrha later. Now, I wanted Maeldok's help. Not just because I need it.

"Excellent." The old man pulled a weathered piece of parchment from the satchel at his feet. "I came to Yeandol ahead of you to assess the situation, one could say, and have now confirmed what had previously been only suspicions."

"Suspicions?" Koren finally said something. "Look I'm glad you want to help Sedris, and we're glad you helped save his and Andrin's lives. But we were just attacked by some horrifying beast from hell and need to know what's really going on."

Maeldok smiled. "Of all people, I appreciate your impatience with introductions, Koren." Koren started a bit at being addressed so directly. "In fact," Maeldok went on, "this letter is the beginning of the answers for which you are searching." He handed the parchment to Koren, who quickly gave it to Andrin.

"Any of your reading help translate that?"

Andrin frowned at the strange Baldük text. He had studied the history and culture of Baldük-kre, even dabbling in their harsh, guttural language at times. "Al'krieth eyt i gala-chat thyüj vinxya skrit. That's the first sentence I think. It's signed 'Xilo Bërrha D'ulk-kyra.'"

Maeldok nodded to Andrin and took the parchment back. "As your friend quite impressively translated, this letter was written from Prince Bërrha of D'ulk-kyra to the Council of D'ulk-kyra. Though it seems innocent to an observer, Bërrha implies sinister intentions." He furrowed his brow and paused a moment to gauge our reactions. "The prince announces here that he has been given permission to operate freely in the southern Corvelen forests. He says further that 'it will soon be within our grasp.'"

"What will be? Was he talking about us?" Koren lowered his raised voice as the tavern door creaked open again, a ray of sunlight momentarily blinding everyone inside. "Why does Aelridia trust this prince and the Ska'al to do anything in Corvelen? No good can come of that!"

I closed my eyes for a minute as Maeldok looked to me for an answer. "He wants the amulet, Koren. I told you that. Maeldok is just confirming what we already suspected."

"The amulet though? This amulet? It's worthless!" Koren spluttered, pointing covertly to his chest where the amulet rested beneath his cloak. I had carried it long enough and finally handed it off to him the day before.

"I and several other council members are likewise skeptical of the amulet's true importance," Maeldok interjected, "but are concerned regardless due to Bërrha's increased freedom in Corvelen."

Andrin nodded along, still staring at the parchment with his head tilted sideways. Maeldok shifted the letter slightly so he could read it better before he went on.

"Bërrha has made a tentative pact with the king of Corvelen. He and the Ska'al have been hired to hunt down a Solace in lower Corvelen, as an act of goodwill between the two nations."

Koren took the words out of my mouth. "But the Ska'al were hunting us before Sedris became a Solace." Andrin shot him a look. "Just the facts Andrin, I don't mean anything by it."

"Correct," Maeldok replied, ignoring the Animaré's conversation. "The council and Bërrha both know the Solace never existed, and although we can only conjecture, Bërrha was likely the one to start rumors of a Solace in Corvelen in the first place."