The horses’ hooves beat a steady rhythm against the dirt road, the only sound in the moonlit silence. Jevan shifted in his saddle, his backside already sore. The full moon hung overhead, bright enough to cast shadows but not enough to make him feel safe.
They couldn’t go straight to Starkhold, figuring that out quickly enough. Once they got close to the town, they’d need to enter the surrounding woods and either make camp or hope any elves in the forest were willing to provide refuge. There was also the possibility of hiding in the nonhuman reservation located outside the town walls.
The horses remained surprisingly calm despite Godrik’s presence. Jevan’s hand drifted to his saber hilt. Kai had told them of Zela’ken living near Starkhold. They tended to see humans the way a hunter sees a pack of wolves, dangerous and in need of extermination.
“What exactly happened?” Senya asked Godrik. “How did your sister get captured? I didn’t even know the Lupelles had more children.”
Jevan listened in as they rode beside him.
Godrik spoke with deep remorse in his voice. “My father understood he would only have wolfborn children with my mother. He needed an heir, but didn’t want to risk all our lives, so he kept the existence of my siblings a secret, telling everyone his children died days after they were born.”
“Nobody noticed the extra children at your home?” Sekari asked.
“We had a private garden outside our keep, a large one enclosed by a wall,” Godrik explained. “My siblings would live in a small house within it. The gardener agreed to keep our secret. But to say my brother and sister enjoyed it would be a total lie. My sister, Tala, especially, hated it. She wanted to live as a princess, an heiress to a Tymerian noble house. My parents treated her with love and care, but she refused to live a life caged from the world. My parents saw how unhappy she was and decided to change that.”
“How would they do that?” Senya asked. “This is Tymeria.”
“Our goal was to make sure my siblings could live free,” Godrik continued. “We understood that would mean leaving Tymeria. My uncle’s a wolfborn in Starfall.”
“You were planning to send your brother and sister away to Starfall?” Kyra asked.
“Yes,” Godrik answered. “While I’m wolfborn, my family needs an heir and I’m their firstborn son. I agreed with my parents that when I take a wife, I’d adopt an infant and claim it as my own to ensure no other wolfborn are born into the family. I was also to ensure whatever wife I took would be a nonhuman sympathizer willing to maintain the lie. That task would’ve been the most difficult, but my sister proved otherwise.”
Senya sighed, predicting the story. “She found out, didn’t she?”
Godrik shut his eyes tightly with noticeable self-loathing. “The fault was mine. My parents and I were discussing the plan, agreeing we would sneak her out without telling her until she was on a boat.” His voice dropped. “We had everything sorted out. The smuggler, the route, the timing. Then my brother, Gray, tells me Tala overheard us.” His hands gripped the reins until his knuckles went white. “She ran.”
Godrik frowned. “By the time my brother and I tracked her down, we saw her being arrested for murder.”
Jevan kept his eyes on the road ahead. Poor bastard. The family tried to protect her and it all went to shit. Still, none of that mattered if they couldn’t get her out. Focus on the job.
“Why didn’t you tell us you were nonhuman?” Sekari asked. “The Zela’ken might’ve committed more forces had you told us.”
“I’ve never known any Zela’ken. You three are the first I’ve met,” Godrik answered. “My father felt it was best to keep it secret. Wolfborn are more feared than Zela’ken. Telling you was too great a risk. Whole armies would be sent to attack us.”
“Then why did you transform?” Derec asked.
“There was no other choice,” Godrik stated. “We were outnumbered, and the moon was full, thus giving me maximum strength.”
Kai halted his horse, pulling at the reins as he turned and addressed the group. “Alright, I’m familiar with this area. We’re near Starkhold.”
Senya smirked. “Then now’s the time for you to take us to the Zela’ken.”
“Don’t expect a friendly welcome,” Kai said as he rubbed his temple. “These Zela’ken are led by an elf who may attack before asking anything.”
“What does that mean?” Kyra asked. “Zela’ken?”
“It translates to ’Free Ones’ in Common,” Kai answered.
“Very well,” Jevan began. “Do we wait here?”
Suddenly, Godrik gasped and scowled like a guard dog spotting an intruder. “They’re already here.”
Jevan’s hand moved to his saber before his mind caught up. Rustling in the trees. A leaf drifted past his face, slow, deliberate. Mocking. “Shit.”
“No sudden movements,” Senya whispered.
Jevan raised his head to the long overhanging tree branch above, spotting the shape of a feminine figure in the moonlight. He maintained a calm face, mentally praising himself for doing so. This elf was skilled. It took a wolfborn’s superior senses to spot her, and Jevan had unintentionally distracted everyone.
She was posed in a squatted position, like a raptor ready to launch itself at a helpless rodent. In her hands, Jevan spotted the same unique type of double-bow Kai carried. “You’re finally back, Kai,” said the she-elf. “But seeing you among humans is disheartening and sickening.”
“We need allies,” Kai answered.
The she-elf leapt from the tree and landed elegantly on her feet, blocking them from the road, bow in hand.
“Nice landing,” Jevan remarked.
She was clad in attire meant for stealth within a forest, a hooded green cloak over a tight dark brown studded leather top that left her arms exposed. Her legs were covered by form-fitting light brown leather trousers. Her dark animal-skin boots were made to make little-to-no noise. Jevan could barely see her face under the hood, but her voice had a soft whisper to it. Copper-skinned and dark hair, she had the popular Sylvanish elven beauty. Strange black tattoos in the shape of branches and leaves were painted on her exposed arms.
In a flash, the she-elf drew an arrow, aiming it directly at Jevan’s face. “This one’s overly fond of talking. You’ve entered this forest without permission, as expected of humans.”
“We’re on the road,” Jevan corrected. “The road’s purpose is to guide us, so excuse us for not wanting to get lost. And we have Kai with us. One of your companions.”
He examined her tattoos. Elves had various customs, but the dark tattoos were unique to the Sylvanish. The only Sylvanish without them were the ones in the so-called reservations. They were expected to be as far away from their cultures and heritage as possible, Jevan remembered from a past conversation with Senya. Painting themselves with Sylvanish tattoos would make them a suspected spy for local clans living in the forests. While humans would still use their prejudices to suspect them regardless, tattooed elves always had it far worse.
“These humans are with me, Xyna,” Kai said.
“Wait…as in Xyna’laas? The Shadowfox?” Yohnnus interjected. “I’ve heard of her reputation.”
She lowered her bow, drew back her hood, then quickly moved her arrow to Yohnnus. “Yes, I’m Xyna’laas, and the male human before me is begging for an arrow in the throat.”
Painted over both her eyes were more black tattoos, each emerald-colored eye covered by a vertical rhombus. Under her lower lip was a single black stripe traveling straight down to her neck and, possibly, beyond. Her dark hair was tied into a neat bun, two thick locks framing her face.
Senya raised her hands. “Everyone, calm down. No fighting over races.”
Now her arrow was aimed at Senya. Jevan’s hand tightened on his saber hilt. Her aura hit him like a wave. Dark, churning with fear, pain, and rage. If she shot Senya, he’d ensure the she-elf died choking on her own blood.
“You humans made race the biggest issue in Tymeria, in all of Terra Dira.” Her voice shook with barely controlled fury. “You made an issue of us having pointed ears instead of curved ones, of us living longer while your kin thankfully dies far earlier.” She took a step closer, arrow still trained on Senya. “Yet you haven’t made one of us having few children while your kind reproduces like rodents.” Her knuckles went white on the bowstring. “We fight because we won’t bow to your dominance like a dog.”
“We?” Godrik asked as he dismounted his horse. “Oh, you mean the archers hiding in the shrubs. I can hear their breaths, their bowstrings, and smell their sweat.”
Slowly, elves materialized out of the darkness, revealing themselves in the trees, the bushes, all around them. Their double-bows were ready, arrows aimed at them all. Jevan looked left and right, behind and above, counting well over twenty elves, twenty arrows ready to shoot. Elves of both sexes surrounded them, each with unique tattoos but similar attire, all covering their heads with dark green hoods.
“Impressive,” Jevan mused aloud. “You’re quite popular.”
“Of course,” Xyna’laas said with a haughty tone. “And we have more than just elves.”
From the darkness to their left came a deep snort followed by crunching footsteps. Amid the dense foliage, Jevan spotted the head of a large animal, only slightly shorter than Godrik in his wolfen form. It remained still as a statue, two large yellow eyes watching them menacingly. Like Godrik’s wolfen form, the head was large and jaws strong. To Jevan, the head resembled a large lizard, a pointed snout with a fringe of dark spikes around its face. Its scaly hide was dark grey, rough as riverstones, with a ridge of darker scales running down its spine. Four large black horns rose from the back of its head, like those of a dragon in a storybook.
The forest choir fell silent, and a chill crept down Jevan’s spine. “We know you’re there.”
Suddenly, a massive creature leapt from the woods, tackling Godrik to the earth. A saurian, a nonhuman race as rare as a wolfborn in Tymeria. The bipedal reptilian stood seven feet tall, its digitigrade leg pinning Godrik with its two-toed foot. Aimed at Godrik’s neck was the reason it needed no boots: a deadly single-toed sickle-shaped claw. Its arms were toned and muscled, like the rest of its agile body. The hands were large enough to hold a human head, with three grasping fingers and a thumb, each ending in a thick claw, though shorter than a wolfborn’s.
It snarled, exposing a long row of sharp teeth.
“This is Khar,” Xyna’laas introduced. “A saurian from Velais.”
The saurian had come from the southern kingdom right beneath Tymeria, a river serving as the border for the two countries. Like Tymeria, Velais had issues with nonhuman races, wiping out the wolfborn and saurian from their lands. Those that survived their hunts fled north to Tymeria or west to Starfall. South led to the Splitting Sea, where they’d need a ship to sail south to Towanda.
The saurian growled at Godrik, who appeared surprised, but not frightened. Jevan knew Godrik wouldn’t panic. After all, he was wolfborn. “You don’t smell human,” the saurian bellowed. Its voice was deep, beast-like in tone.
Jevan smirked at the saurian’s comment. “Because he isn’t human, Sir Dragonman.”
Gritting his teeth, Godrik grabbed the reptilian’s leg, knuckles turning white as he increased pressure, bristles of fur slowly growing on his fist as he released a lupine growl. The saurian released a pained screech as Godrik began lifting his foot off his body, arm shaking with effort.
It moved off with a hiss and Xyna’laas took a cautious step back. “Impossible,” she thought aloud. “Your kind are extinct in these lands.”
Godrik rose, the fur on his hand disappearing. “Not entirely.”
The saurian bared its teeth. “Had your kind joined us during the Saurian Rebellion we’d be ruling Starfall.”
“Had your kind not started that rebellion, the Trailblaze would’ve never happened and many saurian and wolfborn would still exist in Tymeria and Velais,” Godrik growled back. “Our ancestors are dead. Focus on the here and now, saurian.”
“I am,” he hissed. “The Zela’ken are the beginning.”
“Silence.” Slowly, Xyna lowered her bow, the other elves doing the same. “Alright, you’ve piqued my interest. What do you want?”
“We’re not your enemies,” Jevan said, raising his black mask. “We’re Knightmares, and we’re helping the wolfborn rescue his little sister. She’s being held captive in Starkhold, and we’re here to get her home. Can you help us?”
“The Knightmares are dead,” Khar said.
Senya removed her mask. “Not all of us.”
Xyna’laas moved her attention to Kai, seeking his confirmation, which he provided, “It’s true. In my efforts to find us human allies, I’ve discovered one of Tymeria’s noble houses has wolfborn. Imagine House Lupelle siding with us.”
Xyna then turned to Jevan, looking him right in the eye, “I don’t trust you.”
“Then trust Kai.” Jevan pointed an angry finger at the elf. “Would your comrade be with us if we were the same as the humans who’ve hurt you?”
Kai stepped forward, until the tip of her arrow was an inch from his chest. “If you don’t trust me, release the arrow, dear sister.”
“Oh, shit,” Jevan chuckled. They’re siblings?
There was a tense silence. Xyna’s eyes stayed locked on Kai’s. Then, slowly, she lowered her bow and returned the arrow to her quiver. “Follow me.”