1: Felyce

W aking up with a start, Felyce took count of where she was.  She could smell the wood around her, feel the softness beneath her.  She smiled as she remembered.

She was in the inn’s special room, the one she chose from all those others.  She took a deep breath, smiling at the wonder of still being alive.

As she felt around for a while, she had to smile again.  Sure, she knew it was daylight, she could feel the sun shining through the window on her skin, but it all looked the same to her.

It took the inn’s matron a good half-hour to realize that Felyce was completely blind.

 Felyce had been born blind.  She’d never seen light, never known color.  For the first ten years of her life, even though she could hear more and smell more and feel more, she was told that, because she couldn’t see, she’d never amount to much.

 She refused to believe it.  Just because she couldn’t see color didn’t make her weak and helpless.  Yet her family, her parents and her two brothers, always treated her as if she would break if they put too much pressure on her.  For a few things it was pretty nice, she never had to make her bed in the morning and the daily chores had to be done by her brothers instead of her, but every time they sat down to eat her mom led her by the arm to the table, pulling out her chair and giving her the silverware.

 That’s what she hated.  Sure, the ambient sound sometimes distracted her, but she couldn’t stand it.

 One night, she decided she’d show them.  Using what she knew of the homestead, she left the house.  She knew where she was headed.

 Felyce changed her clothes easily, then went to get breakfast.  Even though she couldn’t actually see, she could easily tell where everything was.  It was natural for her, almost making it impossible to believe that she had no use for her eyes.

 Even though the hostess tried to watch for her, tried to make things easy for her, Felyce could tell that she was still completely amazed as to how easy she was able to eat the porridge set before her.  She was asked, many times, who helped her look so presentable that morning, but she just laughed.  The answer would likely surprise her and make her appear to be some kind of trickster.

 Felyce felt her way to somewhere on the south of the property.  She could always tell direction, knowing even what time of night it was, but stumbled, falling in and hearing a lot of chattering around her in this cave.

 She knew it was a cave.  The echoes of the ambient noise told her, but she felt the whooshes of thousands of wings.

 She did yelp.  She had no idea where she was, none at all, and whatever it was felt so strange.  But she somehow just felt that she wasn’t really in any danger.

Bats.  That word came to mind after just waiting there.  As she waited, she realized she had no idea how long she had waited.  This cave wasn’t lit, not in any way.  As the bats fluttered back in she listened carefully, hearing their high-pitched noises.  None of them hit her, none of them hit each other.  And yet they seemed to thrive in the darkness.

She walked around the cave for a while, listening carefully as the ambient noise came to her.  Something was in the way and she moved around it easily, feeling with her hand as she did so, knowing it was a rock pile.  No, not a pile, a stand.  The sound kept coming as she continued to move, dodging rocks all around, a sort of map forming in her mind as she did so.

She had no idea how long she’d been in the cave, or how to get out.  The map in her mind, the one made by the ambient sound echoing off of things, showed the entrance was a fair jump, and she wasn’t sure she could make it without hurting herself.

The bats all fluttered out again, and she realized she could barely hear something.  Soft footfalls told her someone or something was coming up to the entrance.

With her new skill, she could almost tell what it was.  Large, muscular, but with a gentleness, she knew it was one of her parent’s horses. “Go, get help.”

The horse seemed to understand and trotted away.  Not too long after, her brother came to the entrance. “Little sister, how the blazes did you get down there?  You’ve been missing all day.”

She shuddered. “I was dumb.  Now get me out of here.”

They took her home, the horse seemingly watching out for her as they did so.

Felyce walked outside, heading straight for the stables.  It took her only a couple of minutes. “Arcturus?”

Feeling the gentle hoof beats, Felyce reached out a hand.  Ever since her time in the bat cave, she’d enhanced her hearing and her other senses.  It was still a few years before she gained her real ability.

She knew she was attractive as she was growing up, still trying to reach her senses out.  So many boys and men wanted to talk to her, just to get her to smile.  That’s when she started to play her little game of seeing how long it would take them to realize that this girl who could maneuver around things like a sighted person was really blind.

But that wasn’t what surprised her family.  As her senses continued to evolve, she started helping in the kitchen, being able to tell by smell and feel alone what she was handing the cook.  Still it wasn’t the big surprise.

She had always heard her brothers playing with archery sets.

Felyce made her way out to the shooting range. “What do you want?”

She turned to her brother, who gasped. “Hey, don’t do that.  You still seem like you can see if you do it.”

Felyce laughed. “Let me give this a try.”

He huffed, then handed her the bow and an arrow. “If you can do this, I’ll give you a gold piece.”

She smiled.

As she felt the arrow, it occurred to her that a certain feather lined up with where the slot in the arrow was.  She could tell, by the sounds around her, even the soft breeze blowing through, where the target was.  She could even tell that several other arrows were around it. “Seems like you’re having a tough time of it yourself.”

He laughed. “Little sister, you are amazing with your gift.”

She smiled as she felt the instinct kick in.  As she lifted the bow, pulling back on the string with the arrow notched, she just knew the angle she had to aim the arrow at, could tell which way it was pointed, and let it fly.

She heard it hit something as she lowered the bow as her brother gasped in shock. “Holy crap little sister.  Are you sure you can’t really see?”

Somehow she just knew.  She just knew where she’d hit. “Okay, give me my gold piece.”

Felyce found her bow and her quiver easily, exactly where she’d left it.  A quick count by her fingers told her nobody had filched with her arrows.

As she left, feeling where the sun was, she asked the innkeeper what was to the left on the road.  As she answered, telling her it was first the village of Tern, then the village of Opinsal, then the actual city of Toogansil, Felyce thanked her, counting out how much she owed her.

Yes, Arcturus was a faithful horse, a gift from her parents and her family, as well as a satchel of gold pieces, when she knew she had to go and find a way to be of help.  Yet she never rode him.  He was a companion, a guide of sorts, sometimes stopping her from turning the wrong way, but she never rode him.

She could feel, very easily, where the road was, and could hear everything around her.  Still, she knew she’d never be able to read the signs in the road or pretty much anything else.  But that didn’t stop her.  She could take care of herself.  She could take care of Arcturus.

But, still, something seemed to be pulling her onward, on towards Toogansil.

2: Elasidde

A s dawn rose, Elasidde stretched out, wanting to get back to her dream.  It was always elusive, always just out of reach, but she knew her dreams were always good.

But she couldn’t do that, not if she wanted to continue on her journey.  She straightened up her bedroll, making sure the fire was out, before she started back on the road.

Her life always had been a journey.  Sure, the small farm she grew up at had been idyllic.  Her parents cared for her as best they could, but they never did have much.  The crops they grew fetched a high price, but then, when she was about 5, they came.

The three of them were boys, really.  She had to admit that now.  And they were very cruel.  One of them asked her father for protection money, making sure that nothing happened to their crops while the other used some flint and steel to light one of the drier portions on fire.  The third laughed, then snarled at them that, unless they wanted to lose everything, they’d better pay.

Her parents had no choice, so, for 4 years, Elasidde’s parents struggled.  Nearly all the crop went to these bullies, but they made sure Elasidde never went without.

Then, as she turned 10, they told her they had to do something to make sure she didn’t starve as the payment was increased that year.  They sent her to a school, one where she’d have to work in order to stay there.

Elasidde was no stranger to work.  She’d helped on the farm as far back as she could remember.

As she shook her memory away, she looked around.  She knew that her locks of red hair had the advantage of attracting the attention of men who would otherwise want to do horrible things to her.

But Elasidde smiled at that though.  She knew how to handle men like that.  It was the way she always handled it.

As Elasidde worked and learned at the school, she found, quite by accident, the dustiest section in the library.  Thinking she could earn some extra funds, she asked the headmaster if she could clean that area out.  He thought it was a good idea, so she went in.

The whole segment was filled with knowledge of the ancient world.  She pulled one of the books down and realized she had to learn how to read the writing in it.  With a little effort, she was able to get a translator for it and started to learn.

Rituals, rites, passages of those ancient ones came to her and she found she could understand them, found that the rituals made sense to her.

A few nights a week, she’d be out, practicing on how to do these rites, learning how to do it, how to channel what those ancient ones had learned to do.  Then it happened.

She shook her memories away as Elasidde realized five men were blocking the road. “Well, miss.  It appears you’re lost.  We can show you where to go, but for a fee.”

Her gaze swept over them.  They were all fairly good sized and muscular, probably used to scaring unwary women traveling alone into giving them what they want. “What is that fee?”

She’d tried not to hide her humor in this.  They really had no idea what they were in for.

Elasidde returned home not long after, her parents still frightened by these three bullies. “Stop!”

They turned, startled to see a woman behind them. “I won’t let you hurt them anymore.  You’re to leave here and never return.”

They laughed, then advanced on her, obviously meaning harm.  That’s when she snapped her fingers.

And a huge fireball appeared.  They stopped, suddenly not so sure. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

They looked at each other, obviously trying to size up their opponent, but she knew one of them was not the smart one.  He rushed towards her and she threw the fireball.

As Elasidde faced the five men, one of them advancing to try and stroke her face, she showed her bravery. “You don’t want that.”

He laughed. “Oh yes, I do.  It’s clear you need it.”

She glared at him.

Back in the past, Elasidde threw another one.  The three bullies realized they were overmatched and ran, never demanding payment from them again.

Her parents were amazed at her way to generate fire out of nowhere, and were glad that she clearly didn’t want to use it to harm anyone.

Still, as she tried to settle back into the farm life, she felt a restlessness.  It wasn’t enough.  She’d had a taste of the hero’s life and she wanted more.

With her parents’ blessing, she left, carrying only her bedroll.  Ever since then, she’d learned how to control her abilities a bit more.

Which meant that, as she faced these five men, she knew she could handle herself.  It was clear what they wanted, so she gave them another warning. “Cool your heels, gentlemen, before you get burned.”

The one who was approaching first laughed. “And how are you going to do that/”

Elasidde raised a hand, palm up, and snapped her fingers.  A brilliant orange fireball popped out of her palm, dazzling them. “Last warning.”

The five men backed up. “Oh, and drop your coin satchels.”

They did so, clearly afraid.  After all, who wants to burn?

As they wisely decided to leave her alone, Elasidde picked up the satchels, noticing how much was in there, and pocketed them.

She had a place she felt so drawn to, a place she felt like she had to get there.

As she headed away, she knew she had to get to Toogansil.

3: Calynda

C alynda waited a little bit longer.  Things in Toogansil were pretty profitable for her and her caravan/shop.

It had been passed down to her from her parents, as well as the wealth they attained from the family craft.

Still, she knew her father’s wish.  He and her mother had not been able to keep the secret very well.  But she never resented them for it, not for any amount of money.  And she had enough.

After a few more minutes, Calynda snuffed the fire.  It was nighttime, and nobody was out right now except for the security force of the city.  Not that it really needed it.

Calynda had come here a few days ago, setting up shop at the end of one of the busier thoroughfares.  She wasn’t peddling anything, not really, except for the one thing that she and her parents and her father’s father and clear back knew everyone wanted.  Everyone knew her family name, knew the reputation they had.

But it was supposed to go father to son, and Calynda never had a brother.  She was, in reality, an only child.  But her parents never resented her.  After a while, her father started to teach her the family trade, the one that allowed her to basically set up anywhere she wanted to because her family was so well-known.

And so wealthy.  Calynda knew she didn’t have to do this.  She never had to start the fires every morning, heating the metal until it was glowing hot, then pounding it.  She never had to work on refining it.

But it was what her family was known for.  And Calynda was one of the best blacksmiths ever.  If someone needed a plowshare repaired, she knew how to do it better than anyone.  If someone’s horse threw a shoe, she could fasten a new, better one in its place.

And it would be better.  Her family had that reputation and she knew the secrets.  She knew exactly how hot to make the metal, exactly where to strike it, exactly when to cool it.

But it wasn’t just the agricultural stuff she helped with.  No, there was a secret, one that made it so the security force of Toogansil came to her very quickly when they learned she was in town.

Every warrior, every knight, every security person came to them because the armor they made was better.  Others had heavier armor, but not theirs.  It fit fine, was lighter and stronger.

But Calynda didn’t really let the secret out, the one that she, and she alone, knew.

Her armor was even lighter and stronger than anything before.

She’d discovered the alloy completely by accident, and from the most unlikely source.  Nobody could even guess what it was, but it was true.

When she smithed, everything came out stronger and better.  It wasn’t just her family’s secret, it was all hers now.

As she stored her things into her caravan, one of the security people came by. “Everything okay miss?”

She smiled at him. “Oh yes.  How’s that armor?  Fits better now?”

He smiled with a nod. “Perfectly.  Have a good evening.”

And, with that, he was off.  Another secret Calynda had, one her parents taught her, was that she could remember details like it.

But she never ventured far from her caravan.  True, inside, she had an assortment of weapons for sale, and the business for them was brisk.  And she often stayed in there.

But the gold her family had accumulated was also in there, in a safe place.

As she locked the doors, knowing everything else was bolted down or too heavy to do much of anything with, she smiled.

She had no idea what brought her to Toogansil, no idea at all.

But she knew this was where she had to be, at least for now.

4: Keluila

K eluila poked the fire again, staring into the flames.  The deer that she’d killed and butchered filled her nicely and, since it was fresh, would last her for days on her travels.

Just another life.

Keluila drifted back as she watched the flames, focusing on her past.  She’d been born almost 30 years ago in one of the northern tribes.  Her tribe was one of the stronger ones, economically, socially...militarily.  Her whole family was in the military branch, even her older brothers who always seemed to take great delight in torturing her.

After all, she was just a girl.  What do girls know about war?

That’s why, when she came of age, she tried to enlist in the warrior core.  She had to prove them wrong, had to prove she was as good as...no better...than any boy.

But, for three years, they taught her defensive maneuvers.  They taught her how to avoid attacks.  They taught her like she was still a girl.

But she was stronger than many of the boys.  She proved that in a wrestling tournament where, she had to admit, she used her perceived weakness to win.  Even so, they still treated her like a girl.

Then came that year they were to go into the jungle, to tough it out on their own, carrying only one knife.  Keluila watched as some hesitated.  The jungle was not a safe place, after all.  There were many dangerous creatures in there, creatures that could eat a person whole.

Keluila took her knife and went in straight.  She wanted to show that she had no fear.

For four months, she managed to survive.  Learning how to build fires and find prey was fine, that was no problem for her.  But what she really learned stuck with her.

The animals in the jungle fell into two distinct groups, she knew.  She’d learned that back in her regular school days, that there were predators and prey.  But she had not heard of how the prey kept the predators at bay.

She watched the acrobatics of these creatures, watching and adapting them for her own body.  And she watched the predators as well, watching how they used the prey’s moves to capture and consume them.

When her time was up and she came out unscathed, she was eager to show what she learned, but the tribe was at alert.  The neighboring tribe was coming against them for some offense that she was sure was not intended.  Something that she was sure would eventually be worked out.

But she was a warrior-in-training.  She took her spot in the line, although two guys were asked to watch over her.

As the fire crackled, Keluila shook from her memory for a moment.  It seemed so long ago, lifetimes ago even.  Maybe it was, she wasn’t sure.

The battle was fierce when they came, and Keluila saw what she’d been training for.  While it did shake her at first, she steeled herself.  They were the enemy.

Her “guards” were eager to join, but were quickly swept down by this one guy, a guy with dark hair and deep blue eyes, a guy about her age, maybe a little older, maybe a little taller.

Keluila’s instincts kicked in as he saw her.  She drew her sword, fighting like she saw the prey fighting in the jungle, using her body as a way to get through until…

...She felt her sword hit home.  His eyes widened, looking down as Keluila’s sword stuck through his chest.  With just a gasp, he slumped to the ground and she looked around.

Her breath shook as she pulled her sword from him, another person coming to avenge his fallen comrade.

Again, it was a quick fight, Keluila adding another kill to her list, but she still shook.

Two boys, not much older than her.  Both of them with full lives ahead of them, now cut short because of her.

Adding just one more before the battle was over, clearly won by their side, Keluila reported her status.  Yes, they were all impressed by her prowess on the battlefield and how easily she dispatched three opponents, but she knew something fundamental with her had changed.

She asked to be excused, asked to have a journey quest.  She had to find her answers.

As Keluila snuffed out the fire and unrolled her bedroll, looking into the stars, she had to wonder if she’d ever find her answers.

Maybe when she reached Toogansil.

5: Sydell

A s Sydell finished pocketing the satchel, she looked over at her previous night’s companion again.  Usual mark, husband, away from his loving wife for an extended period, needing someone to talk to, someone to touch.

It was all too easy for her.  The ones that she was able to successfully sneak away from probably thought she was a fleeting enchantress, some dream, some sort of imaginary seductress that could fulfill their every fantasy.

At least before they found out she stole their satchel of gold.  It wasn’t always gold, of course.  There was one month she used pure diamonds.

And it wasn’t as if this was her only caper.  Sydell, born an orphan, never knowing who her parents were, had grown up three regions away.  The orphanage was not a place she relished, nor was it a place she ever wanted to go back there.  While some of the scars had healed, she was certain there’d always be something to try and run from.

But she wasn’t the only one left starving while the operators of the orphanage ate plenty.  So she watched, learning the patterns, learning the dark spots.

She knew how to be quiet when it was needed, but she had to learn to be completely invisible if she wanted to be.  She stole a loaf of bread from the operators, getting it to her fellow orphans.

By the time they realized it, there was no evidence at all.  None of them snitched.

She got better and better at it, the operators only catching her once and locking her in the cellar for a week, thinking that would teach her.

But they never realized she planned on them catching her.  Never realized she meant for that to happen so that she could continue her crime spree.

As she got older, though, she realized something else, something vital.  When they were allowed in town, many young men would not stop staring at her.  Something about her made them take notice.

She let her natural instincts take over there, winking and smiling at times, laughing when they wanted to talk to her, even learning how to walk with her hips popping out.

She learned the value of touching and where to do so.

When she finally left the orphanage, too old, they said, for a legit adoption, they left her with nothing but a tunic.

And, two days later, she had a full dress, complete with ornamentation.

No, although she knew how to seduce men, knew how to live in their dreams forever, it wasn’t her only scam.  She wasn’t a prostitute, after all.

But she did live in their dreams, just like this guy who...grunted.  As his eyes flickered open, she leaned over, stroking his face, before he saw what she was holding. “What are you dong with that?”

She held up the satchel, acting all innocent. “What?  This?  Well, you gave it to me.”

He huffed, backing away from her. “I did not!  You’re stealing it!”

Sydell laughed, throwing herself backwards nonchalantly. “Technically, but here’s the catch.  Here’s what you missed.  How are you going to explain, to the authorities, how you lost this satchel?”

He threw the covers off of him, storming up to find his trousers. “I’ll tell them you’re a thief.”

She stood her ground. “And I’ll tell them you gifted it to me as payment.”

He looked at her, confused, as she continued. “And, when it gets back to your wife, you’ll be busted for sleeping with an alleged prostitute.”

She stood, looking him right in the eye. “I’d imagine that wouldn’t go over well with her.  Probably be something nasty, but your reputation will be ruined.”

He stammered for a moment. “I’ll find you.  I’ll make you and your family pay.”

She just laughed. “Good luck, and, no, you won’t find me again.”

She slunk over to him, speaking softly. “Or you can just forget this, thinking that you lost it in some accident and be satisfied that you had an amazing night last night, one that will live in your dreams.”

She bopped his nose. “Your choice.  Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to use this to find a way out of here.”

She hopped a little, laughing as she walked out the door.  She already knew he’d be fuming mad, so angry that some little beauty stole his gold and ashamed he was made a fool of.

Now all she had to do was get her ride to Toogansil.

6: Baileah & Victoire

N o, not that way.

 “I see that Vic.”

I’m the seer here, not you.

 “Yes, I know, but I can see.”

Baileah turned to the left instead of the right, recognizing that Victoire was right, that the other way was a dead end.  Someone heard her talking and looked up, watching Baileah strangely.

But she was used to it.  Of course she was.  How could she not be?  People looked at her strangely a lot over the years, and she knew why.

After all, Victoire was in her head all the time, never really letting her feel alone.

She could remember, when she was five, when she had Victoire as a friend that she could easily see.  Dark and regal, Victoire often told her stories about old times, stories from a very long time ago.

2000 years.  You know that. “Yes.  Now let me keep my memories going.”

Nobody else could see her.  Sure, some pretended, but, when she drew what Victoire looked like, they all said she just had a vivid imagination.  And that she’d grow out of it.

At that, she heard Victoire laugh.  She always thought that was the funny part.

Sure, for a few years, Baileah was alone in her thoughts.  At least until she was 14 and her parents and her were in that awful crash.

When her parents died, though, Baileah became besieged by memories of a time a long time ago.

Memories of a time when….Hold on, these are mine.  Time for me to take over. “Oh, very well.”

Victoire grew up in the tribe of the dragon hunters.  Although there were no dragons left, her tribe maintained that they could always come back, and that the world would be forever changed by it.

She had no idea when she first realized she had the gift, the gift of being able to see a person and know their entire story and what they should do, the gift of knowing what was in store for the tribe.

The gift they called prophecy or seership.  Victoire could see everything that would happen and could even change the future if she was careful enough.  But then the vision came to her, the vision of the dragon seeking revenge.

The warriors were called up, all of them ready for the mighty beast.  But it wasn’t a beast.

The men came by the thousands, by the tens of thousands, all of them ready for blood.

Victoire whimpered in the corner, knowing that she’d foreseen her tribe’s death, knowing that, but also knowing that her future was sure, even though she knew that she, too, would die…

 “Yes, and those memories gave me nightmares for years, you know that.”

It’s our shared history Baileah.  It’s who we are.

Baileah huffed, still not sure how it happened.  Victoire became attached to her, whether she wasn’t sure if she was just in her mind, if it really was a shared history or what.

But Victoire was the one that inspired Baileah’s love of history.  Baileah wanted to know more about Victoire’s tribe, even though there were many tribes of dragon hunters.  It amazed her they stayed true to that goal even though dragons died out centuries ago.

It was a sad fact.  Baileah wanted so much to meet a dragon although Victoire tried to warn her against that desire, her own beliefs giving her the impression that they were dangerous creatures, craving only gold and blood.  Baileah, on the other hand, learned of the dragon’s goodness and wisdom, and that, many centuries before they were killed off, wise men sought the dragons for guidance.

The two had often had arguments over which one was right, Baileah’s head hurting many times after that, or was it Victoire’s.  Eventually, they came to an understanding, a truce.  Unless they needed to know where to go, Victoire would just be there, in Baileah’s thoughts.  Unless they needed some immediate help, she’d be the silent partner.

And Victoire had insisted they needed to get to Toogansil.  Baileah was interested because the city had grown up as a sort of stronghold, a stand against certain forces that were no longer a threat.  Yet they kept growing.

So they walked around the city, still not sure where they needed to go, but Victoire said she’d know when they got there.

7: Gavrila

 “I can’t believe this, I’m so excited.”

Gavrila said that to the stage operator as he came to Toogansil. “Where are you headed to milady?”

Gavrila giggled a little, shrugging. “Wherever the local inn is.  I mean, there’s just so much to learn here.”

He looked around a moment as he pulled in.  She saw that. “Hey, don’t you get it?  This city was supposed to have been founded 700 years ago as the fortress against the trolls.  They never attack until threatened, but the city kept growing as more and more people realized it.  There are so many bits to learn from.”

He stopped the carriage. “Milady, I just work here.  Now let me help you with your bags.”

She smiled as she got off the carriage.  It had been so strange, since she left the abbey.  Men had been so nice to her, but it did kind of disturb her that they gave her such a look that she wasn’t sure.  Sometimes the looks made her uncomfortable, but she got over it.

Ever since they took her in, when she was 5, they’d taught her of the order’s deity, the One, and taught her about their sacred charges.  The One was there to help them learn all they could of their world, every aspect of it.  Gavrila took to learning, absorbing all the knowledge that she could.

There was also one other charge, one that was especially taught to her when she turned 13.  She could feel her body changing, but didn’t know why.  She never knew why they taught her the order of celibacy, but it was her promise to the One that she would not partake of this worldly desire.

As she went into the inn, the carriage driver depositing her things inside, she saw the innkeeper come up, a slightly older, rough looking man. “Well, I guess we have a new...resident…”

Like the others, he stopped as he looked her up and down with a disconcerting smile. “Yes.  Here.”

She gave him a few coins from the satchel, enough that she hoped he’d let her stay. “What brings you here milady.”

They all called her that.  She knew why, too.  The Order was pretty well known, famous for their scholars.  She was one of the best, which was why she came out.  She had to know more.

She’d discovered something while she was there, a bit of hidden history.  There had been those, earlier on, who studied the way that plants and minerals mixed together to produce certain effects.  It did depend on whether they were burned or not, but she learned about this, then learned that the practice was carried on in other parts of their world.

Toogansil was one such place, a place of unique flowers that would possibly produce some results that hadn’t happened before.  She definitely had to find them and learn from them.

 “I’m here to study,” she finally answered the innkeeper’s question.  He looked her up and down again, giving her an uncomfortable feeling. “Okay, very well.”

As he led her up to the room he gave her, he told her what he knew of the inn.  She took the information in, hoping to know more, as he led her to her room. “The Mrs. will bring up your things in a little bit.”

She hoped the lady wasn’t going to look at her mean like the other ladies did.  She really had no idea why, but she knew why she thought she came here, to learn about this interaction stuff.  But, maybe, she’d find out what really drew her to Toogansil.

8: Lamias

A s soon as Lamias entered the pub, she knew they were there.  All of them were at or near Toogansil, just as she called them.

It seemed only fitting, but she wasn’t sure if her psionic call would actually be received.  It had been many years, no, centuries, since she’d ever used it.

But Toogansil was grateful to have a healer, even though she tried to keep her heritage a secret.  After all, full-blooded elves were not often seen in that world, it being a well-known secret that they preferred solitude in their clans.  Yes, Lamias knew there were other elves out there, many clans, in fact.  She had learned more traveling between the clans, learning as she went.

But Lamias didn’t have one of her own.

She was relatively young, as far as elves went, just over 900 years old.  For 300 years, she’d learned all about the art of battle according to elf-kind.  She knew she could slay beasts if her natural food, the various plants around her village, were not in plenty.  It wasn’t optimal, but it was necessary.

So she learned fighting.  She learned war.  She knew that, in order to accomplish a great task, one needed to have a variety of kin around, each of a various skill set.

And she learned about the various gifts that the elves had, gifts of foresight, gifts of being able to tell what someone was thinking about, gifts of insight.  As she learned, she found she had the gift of psionics, the ability to call, with her mind, when she was in need.  She had no idea it could work the other way around though.

She was out, soloing, a common practice with those of her age.  Understanding nature and how it should be respected and used.  Yes, she understood nature, she understood the aspect that there had to be a design to it all, otherwise it wouldn’t all fit as neatly as it did.

And it was as she sat under a tree that she felt the urgency, the desperate call from her clan.  Something was happening, something dangerous.  They needed her.

She leapt onto her steed, taking off as fast as the wind, but it wasn’t fast enough.

Lamias could still remember the shock and horror, walking through her former village, seeing her kindred and her family splayed out, often in horrific fashion.  Even though she checked, she knew it wasn’t treasure whoever did this were after.  They didn’t have much, but that wasn’t it.

She called for anyone to answer, but that silence spoke volumes to her.  She tried to reach out to see if anyone made it, anyone escaped, but there was nothing.

Lamias was alone.

How would her family think of her if she went after those that slew them?  She knew that she was only one elf, only one against whatever it was that so viciously slaughtered.  She would join them soon, but, no.  She had no idea where they were or what they were after.

So she took what little she had and started wandering.  As she found another elf clan, even though they invited her in, she only stayed a while, learning something new.

She respected nature, knew of some of its wonders, but she had no idea how she could infuse her magic with some of the plants that grew in abundance all around.  She learned what various plants and flowers could do, learned how they could heal.

She went from clan to clan, each offering to let her stay with them, and each being turned down for the same reason.

As she did so, she learned, also, of various artifacts, various enchanted items that could do wonderful and terrible things.  And she learned of the possibilities of the reason she was now alone.

And she ventured away from elfkind about a century ago.  She knew that those that slew her clan were likely dead, but what about others.

She spent her days, using her healing abilities and saving so many from suffering.  The fact that she could do so felt great, helped heal her heart.

And then she heard of the powerful talisman, a totem that, if the rumors were true, likely was the cause of her clan’s downfall.

It had been in play for centuries now, but she needed help.

She was very out of practice, but the call went out, asking for those that would help her get rid of the plague of this amulet.

And they were almost all there, all of them come to Toogansil.  In just a few days she’d be ready to ask them for their help.

9: The Tavern

Felyce sat there, her bow at her side, listening as people came in.  Somehow, just a deep feeling, she knew she should be here, for some reason.  The smells were all familiar, that of people who were coming in to mingle, to possibly even get drunk.

Felyce never understood that, the need to get drunk.  All it did was dull the senses and the capacities.  She’d rather stay sharp, on her game, able to listen to the world around her and understand what was going on.

As she sipped at her water, she heard her come over. “You are the archer?”

She turned, facing up to get the impression of someone.  This woman had a bit of a cooler feel, not quite up to regular human norms.  She was also lighter on her feet. “Yes elf.”

The elf woman sat down at the table. “I am Lamias, the last of my clan.  I have called you and others here, but where are they?”

Felyce smiled at her. “My name’s Felyce.”

She could almost feel Lamias looking at her. “How good an archer are you?”

Felyce tried to hide her smile, not sure if she could. “I’ve won many tournaments, both still and moving targets.”

She knew she was facing the elf, Lamias, but wasn’t able to tell if she would be able to detect her little secret. “I’m looking for others.  There’s supposed to be a blacksmith here.”

Felyce pointed in the direction she could tell the blacksmith was. “She’s over there.  I could smell the forge on her.”

As they came over, Calynda looked up.  Clearly, one was an archer and the other an elf, but there was something about the archer, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.  She took a sip of her ale. “What can I do for you.”

The elf spoke first. “I am Lamias and this is Felyce.  I believe you’re waiting for us.”

Calynda extended a hand. “Calynda.  You might have heard of me.”

Lamias smiled as she took an offered seat, followed by Felyce. “Oh yes, the armorer.”

Calynda smiled back. “So much more.  But yes.  You may know my family.”

As she gave her family name, Felyce whistled. “Oh yes.  The best smiths in the world.  How many people come to you just because of your family’s reputation?”

Calynda shrugged. “Quite a few.”

Lamias turned as someone new came in.  Felyce stiffened for a moment before very quickly stringing her bow, notching an arrow and firing.  As the three of them stood to see where she fired, they found the arrow sunk deep into the wall, piercing the cloak of a young woman. “Okay, yeah, you got me.  Been a while.”

Lamias seemed impressed. “Impressive, especially for someone who’s blind.”

Felyce smiled at her. “15 minutes.  Not too bad yourself Lamias.”

She corrected her. “I knew from the start.  Born blind?”

Felyce shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m used ot it.”

The woman pinned to the wall gave the satchel back that she’d tried to lift. “So you were trying to hit me?”

Felyce shook her head. “No.  I don’t hurt people I don’t have to.”

Lamias stood in front of Felyce, looking at her eyes. “Total blindness, yet your other senses more than compensate for it.  That is very impressive.  Now let her go.  We’ve been waiting for her as well.”

Sydell didn’t believe the archer was blind as she introduced herself.  There was no way she could’ve picked her out so swiftly, even as she tried to lift that satchel.

She looked at the hole in her cloak.  She’d have to repair that later, but what did this elf woman mean by waiting for her? “There’s no way you can be blind...your name’s Felyce?”

Felyce smiled at her.  She could see her eyes.  She could see them lock on.  Or was that just habit. “Right now, Sydell, I can tell that you’ve traveled here on various stages, all of them upper class, although you, yourself, are not.”

That surprised her. “But how?”

Felyce laughed a little as she explained. “I can smell that you have various ashes on your clothes and that they don’t sound very wealthy.  They don’t have the same kind of rub.  But, then, you’re an expert thief.  I’d imagine that, if I hadn’t heard that slight jingle as you lifted the satchel, I wouldn’t have even noticed.”

The blacksmith...Calynda...she looked rich...had to ask. “Yet you can’t see a thing?”

Felyce shook her head as she turned to her. “It may sound strange for you, but, for about 15 years now, when they started developing, I can sort of get a sense of what is going on around me with the sounds as they happen.  I can, sort of, see what goes on by the sounds that are made.  I can smell various things, such as the soot on your clothes Calynda.”

Calynda looked down.  As far as Sydell could see, her clothes were clean.  Felyce laughed. “Don’t worry.  I doubt anyone else could smell it.  Not like that other lady that just walked in.”

They all turned to see a woman with flaming red hair enter the tavern.

Elasidde looked around the tavern, not sure what drew her here.  Sure, the city was fairly sprawling, but she had felt the draw to this particular little tavern.  Well, at second look, it wasn’t so little.  One of the women in a small gathering raised her hand, looking at her, beckoning her over.

She approached, noticing the motley sort of crew.  One was clearly an archer, the one that beckoned her over and there was also an elf.  The other two appeared normal although one seemed quite shifty.

As Elasidde sat and introduced herself, the other four did as well.  Lamias, the elf, seemed content to just wait, as did Calynda, the blacksmith.  Once she heard Calynda’s family name, she knew she was in august company.  But she still wasn’t sure about Sydell.

As if trying her luck, Sydell reached for something on Elasidde’s belt, meeting a flaming finger as a result. “Whoa.”

Sydell shrugged with a smirk, taking her hand back before getting it burnt.  Felyce seemed a little confused by it before identifying her. “I’ve heard of women like you, but I didn’t know any fire-mage witches existed in these times.”

After a few minutes, Elasidde sharing her backstory to the others and they commented that, yes, Felyce was totally blind, Lamias stiffened. “I think the next member of our party just arrived.”

They turned, all of them, to face the entrance.

Keluila wasn’t sure what brought her here.  She had no idea, only that she somehow felt drawn to this tavern at this time.  She could feel it, deep in her instincts, the desire to come to find an answer.

She found the group of 6 women in the corner, two obvious spaces open.  The one with the red hair gestured to one of the open seats. “I believe you’re looking for us.”

As she sat, Keluila saw that one of the group was an elf. “I didn’t think I’d ever meet an actual elf.  Don’t your kind usually stick to your lands?”

The elf sighed. “My clan is destroyed.  I called you all here….”

A voice cut them all off. “Oh my word!  This is better than I could have imagined, the oldest tavern in the city, perhaps the oldest business in the city!”

Without so much of a by-your-leave, they all turned to see, perhaps, the prettiest woman they’d ever seen come in.  Sure, she was dressed in extremely modest clothing, but there was no denying it.  That face, the curved on the body, she was gorgeous.

Gavrila entered the tavern, looking all around.  She still felt the eyes of every guy in there on her, not knowing the least bit why.  She saw a group in the corner, a motley group like she’d never seen before, and rushed up to them. “Oh my word, an elf!  And a fire-mage witch!  And you’re a warrior from...northern tribes, I’m guessing?”

She saw that she surprised them all. “Oh, my name’s Gavrila.  I’m here to learn.  I’m pretty adept at making potions and things and….”

The elf gestured to the open seat. “Hello Gavrila.  We were about to make our introductions to the warrior when you walked in.  Join us.  You’re expected.”

Gavrila sat beside the woman she could only assume was in some kind of dark trade.  It only made sense, her wearing dark clothes and covering her head.  But why was there a hole in her robe.

She quickly learned their names, Lamias the elf, Felyce the archer, although she was amazed a blind woman could be an archer, and the others.  The woman next to her extended a hand. “My name’s Sydell.  I’m guessing you never lack for companionship.”

Gavrila shrugged. “No, not really.  I mean, I’ve been told I’m very friendly.”

A smirk crossed Sydell’s face. “Yeah, I’ll bet.”

As they sat, talking, Gavrila sharing her backstory of being a part of the Order of The One, Lamias sat back for a moment. “We’re waiting for one more, one more to make our party complete before I share this quest.”

A somber voice came from behind Gavrila. ‘That would be us.”

Victoire finally directed Baileah into the tavern, right up to the rag-tag group of women.  As they turned to face her, Baileah tried to explain the compound. “My name’s Baileah, but I have another companion that sometimes takes over, Victoire.”

 “And that’s me.”

It was clear from their reactions that they could hear the shift in her voice. “Now I’m not sure why we’re here but…”

Victoire took over. “You are looking for something, something that was lost centuries ago, something of immense power.  This something wiped out my people, including myself.”

Gavrila gasped. “Oh my word, a remnant.  I never thought I’d see an actual remnant.  This is so fascinating.”

As Victoire glared at her, she took out a slip of paper, something Baileah hadn’t seen before. “Before our extinction, I saw this in vision.  This is what created all of it…”