Chapter 1: Flamefade

After Ophira has shared her experience and perspective, she steps back and lets the elders decide what to do. She bounces impatiently, worrying about Ana.

She looks over at Beric and makes a face suggesting she wants to go soon. Then she notices Lirann sulking and she says, "Hey, are you OK?"

Once they are back in the village and relatively stationary, Beric attempts to do a more proper bandaging of Ophira's wounds. He shares her impatience to check on Ana, but mostly stays quiet. He's better at talking to animals than most people anyway.

As is his way, Gaelan listens and watches as the elders restore order and the pieces of the puzzle of what happened come together. He seeks his own parents briefly, making sure they are well, then looks through the crowd for his nearly betrothed. He hopes to at least make meaningful eye-contact with her, then he speaks up.

"We’ve no time to waste. People are missing, taken by this Bohdan and his brigands. We need to check on the outskirts, make sure the outlaws are gone, then make for their camp to rescue those taken!"

Lirann glances at Ophira. "I'm fine." She mumbles. "I just have a bad feeling about all of this, like there is more going on here than we know and I don't like that. She sighs. I might have to ask 'her' for help, but I would like that even less."

Ophira knits her brows in confusion. She replies, "Her? Not Ana…. Is this related to that thing you did with Beric? Lirann, I’m here if you need to talk about anything…" she puts a hand on Lirann’s shoulder out of friendly concern.

"I know that." Lirann sighs. "It's just that.... You know how lucky you are to have a teacher you can actually trust?" She glances around a bit before continuing. "Listen, I'll help you look for the old bat tomorrow morning. I just want to be prepared. Without our magic we would just be a liability and the others need rest as well."

In the faint moonlight, it's hard to make out Hugh's reaction. "The old lords...?" He frowns, tries to smile, like he thinks his son must be jesting with him. But the bloodied clothes and Thalen's expression are unmistakable, and so the smile quickly dies on his lips. He looks over the group, his eyes drifting back towards Moonspindle Books in the distance. "Of course, of course, I believe you. Cat... Catrin, she went back to check on the store. I need to speak to her."
Though Hugh is a gifted and well-read historian, when it comes to the local legends and stories Thalen's mother has always been the one to ask. But he remains in place as Ophira begins to explain the recent events, even though he is clearly itching to get back to his store.

Hushed whispers race through the crowd, disbelief and concern mingle with breathless prayers. Children clutch at their mother's skirts as fathers—still coated in ash from putting out the fire—tighten their grasps at pitchforks and shovels, as if expecting some undead monstrosity to emerge from the nearest shadow.

As a low dread settles over the assembled villagers, the council, along with a few of the older and most respected of the village, huddle close. They exchange worried glances and look off towards the woods as they hurriedly debate.


Finally, Caitrina takes the stage, addressing the whole of the village gathered there. "Dear kinsmen! It is true, we cannot allow an affront like this to go without reprisal. But we have wounded to tend to, and defenses must be looked to. We do not know when this enemy plans to strike next and cannot afford to let our guard down. I know you wish vengeance against the people who did this, but we have already lost much. Let us not be too hasty."

She turns her head towards the six youths. "You have certainly proven yourselves this night. And yet your village must call on you again. If this threat is truly as you describe it, then..." Her face twists slightly in distaste, though she keeps it from her voice. It's well known that there is no love lost between the two of them. "We need to seek the council of Anathema. The witch may have some answers as we plan how to respond to this attack."

She does not seem to notice the whispered discussion between Lirann, Ophira and Beric. Indeed, though she is technically addressing all of them, her attention is mostly on Thea and Gaelan. It's no secret that she values their famous acts of bravery and brawn highly, and has far less regard for all things mystical and strange.

Hearing the elder speak, Ophira nods and turns to Beric. "My bandages are going to have to wait, Beric. I want to check on Ana, now" Then, turning to her companions, she speaks, raising her voice so that the elder and the others are aware eo her intentions. She says, "Ana is alone out there, where the bandits came from, and I am worried sick about her. Please, friends, come with me to check on her, and to get her counsel about these bandits, as the Elder suggested."

Thalen listens to Ophira and then looks back at his father, torn between loyalty, kinship, love, and his desire for knowledge. He turns back to his father, "Pa, I'm going to go with my friends to help them check on Anathema. When I return, we can talk further about the old lords and legends. I believe that some of the knowledge that we require is connected to events from the past."

He strides purposely back to his friends, adjusting his dirtied cloak with finality.

As Gaelan listens to the words of the council and Elder Caitrina, his face darkens. People have been taken, and now with their lives hanging in the balance the decision is to... wait?

"We will speak with Anathema, tonight," he says before looking at Ophira, and nodding at her.

Before they make to leave, he stops by the house to don his leathers and grab his axes. Before heading out, he says to his father, "I lost track of Theda in all that. Will you find her and explain?"

Ophira nods back with a look of gratitude for Gaelan's help. Having no family to speak of in town, she heads to the only family she's known for most of her life: Anathema.

As a somber quiet falls around the village, the small group heads out. Thalen sees Hugh heading off towards their home, deep in thought, while Gaelan's father marches off in the direction of the mill. As the group walks, they pass by other villagers returning to the heart of the village, odd looks being thrown their way as they stride westwards.

None of them are strangers to these woods. Whether playing, hunting, foraging or otherwise working, the forest is almost as much a home as the village of Arras. And yet, this night, they feel deeper, darker, more oppressive than ever before. The night wind sings in the boughs, the branches creaking and shifting like old bones. Only faint rays of moonlight slip through the foliage to light the path.


They are nearly within sight of the hut when they hear the low, almost gurgling croak. Nok, his feathers gleaming in the moonlight, struggles to drag his own body forward, twisting on the cold earth and kicking with his feet for every inch of progress he can make. When he sees Beric, his body relaxes and he slumps, every ounce of energy clearly spent.

Beric runs over to Nok and picks him up gently. "Hang in, buddy. At sunup I'll have the King's Touch again, and that'll fix you right up. For now, just rest." Beric wraps the bird in a cloth and cradles him in the crook of his arm. Then he looks at his friends. "I'll bring him along. There might be some poultices at Ana's that can help." He leaves unspoken the thought that Ana herself must not be able to help.

Seeing poor Nok, Ophira runs after Beric to make sure the bird is OK. She pulls out one of her goodberries and offers it to Beric to give to Nokl

Then she stands and looks toward the cottage. Can she see or hear anything? Once Beric is finished with Nok, she heads straight there.

Gaelan is wary, on guard as his companions tend to the injured raven. His axe are tight on his axe handle as he eyes the woods, and then the hut.

"What happened to him?" he asks quietly when Beric has his bird friend situated.

As soon as he's safe in Beric's hands, Nok lets out a weak, pained croak and buries his head behind one of his wings.
Shallow breaths come out in rapid succession, his little heart beating terribly quick.

Nothing appears to be broken, nor is there any sign of blood. But across the feathers on his back and wings are several thin ash-grey streaks that look like burn marks. As Beric brushes over them, he notes that they are deathly cold.Ana's hut lies just past a thicket of brushes, a narrow muddy road winding between. As Ophira makes her way through, thorns snatching at her blouse and skirt, she along with Beric and Liraan, feel the prickling, tell-tale sensation of powerful sorcery drifting on the night air.

Surrounding the hut, pacing lazily back and forth, are half a dozen hunched-over figures. Caked in mud, half-rotten, with vacant eyes and barely held-together limbs. They seem to be circling Ana's home, but none of them are currently trying to get inside. And in the moonlit sky above, the air itself is roiling with strange energies.

Ophira observes them for a moment from afar. Do they seem to be protecting the hut, or trying to get in, or simply waiting for her to come out to attack her?

Upon seeing the scene at Ana's, Beric will quietly look for a tree in which he can safely nestle Nok - a crook of branches near the trunk if possible. If combat breaks out, he doesn't want Nok being in the middle of it.

After that, he whispers to his friends. "I don't know if we're up to the task of taking on six walking corpses right now. If they aren't trying to get in the house, maybe we watch and wait? Perhaps sunrise will drive them off."