Fiona owned her own horse by this point in her career, a dappled gelding named Maris, and she had made arrangements for him to be held with Idgie's black mare Tell and Karna's gray stallion Krish at the Academy's stable. The horses were to be brought at eight that morning to the west gate of the Academy. The young mage had also made arrangements for a porter to show up at her room at a quarter of eight, and Fiona was absolutely set on being ready well before he arrived.

Her day had started at six. She had made her bed with her usual tendency towards neat efficiency, and made a quick run-through of all the possessions she would be bringing on the trip, stacking them neatly in the center of the room and ticking each item off her list. She had passed on breakfast – Xenia and her uncle Roan would be providing a brunch for the entire group – and she had gone straight to the baths. This morning, her bath had been a quick one, taken in water much colder than she was fond of, to help get her ready for the long road ahead. After the bath she forewent her usual anointing with a small amount of perfume – scents such as she was wont to wear were likely to attract bugs in warmer times, and even less pleasant visitors in almost any weather. Instead, she opted for a thin application of a certain cream, a common but expensive item available in shops on the Academy grounds, which had no scent of its own but which kept one's own scent subdued. She eschewed cosmetics for the same reason that she avoided perfumes, and for worry of losing it she left all of her jewelry in a chest on her dresser. She used fine combs to pin her long hair back out of her face. She had on a flannel tunic and britches under her customary robes, and she wore a midweight hooded cloak over her shoulders. She had warm gloves and hoods for colder weather, and a pair of heavy boots in case they met with snow, all packed in with the rest of her things. Also in the neatly packed collection were quills, ink, and parchment; blankets, bedrolls and a small pillow; spare clothing; her small travelling spellbooks, and a few other books to study on the trip; a sewing kit and first aid supplies; a compact version of her toilet; and a pair of lightstones.

She was just finishing tying up the last parcel when a rapping came at her door. Right on time, she thought, and then called: "Come in, it's unlatched." The door burst open and in bounced Idgie, with Karna just behind her. Idgie carried nothing in her hands, but Karna was himself laden with both his own gear and Idgie's.

"Mornin', Fi!" Idgie grinned widely as Karna set down the parcels behind her. "All ready to go?"

"Good morning, Idgie, Karna," answered Fiona. She noted that Karna didn't seem even winded from the task of lugging the items fully across campus, despite the fact that together all the parcels weighed nearly as much as Fiona herself did. She was a bit surprised at this at first, but then she was pleased about it, and silently filed her observation away in her head. "Good to see you found one another well enough this morning." She turned to the Elf. "I appreciate your getting Idgie's gear for us, Karna."

"You're quite welcome," he answered. "It was nothing." He was trying his best to mask his pleasure with the compliment. But Fiona noticed that her words had pleased him, and guessed that Idgie noticed as well.

Fiona smiled. "I'm pretty much ready, myself. I hired a porter for the morning. Did you notice the time?"

"It's about a quarter of," said Idgie. "I like that clock on the tower. I'd love to have one of my own."

"Well, I rather doubt you could filch the tower," replied Fiona, and Karna chuckled. Idgie stuck her tongue out at Fiona, and the darker-haired woman continued with a bit of a smile. "I hope you two are hungry. Roan tends to get upset if you don't eat your fill at his table."

Karna brightened up at the mention of food. "Mmm," he said, his eyebrows going up. "Vittles! Good! I am famished!" He rubbed his stomach. "What's on the menu?"

"I've no idea," answered Fiona, still smiling. "But I'm sure we'll find out soon enough."

The porter, a strong-looking lad of perhaps fourteen years, arrived at the door a moment or two later as the three companions went over a final checking of their parcels. Fiona pointed out to the boy her small (but heavy) collection of packages, and he heaved them up onto his shoulders without comment. Karna took up his own and Idgie's items again, and the four of them departed the room; the door magically locked itself behind them when Fiona closed it.

The west gate of the Academy was not far from the dormitories, and Fiona took the time during that short walk to drink in that morning's weather. It was clear and bright out, without a cloud in the sky, and the sky was a delicious, cold, cerulean blue. The bright day promised to be a warm one, but overnight the lack of clouds had allowed the temperature to plummet. The four of them could see their breath, and the Academy lawns were white with rime. Fiona pulled her cloak a bit more tightly about herself, and Idgie did the same. Karna, warmed from the physical exertion, had his cloak over one shoulder, and showed no real sign of tiring. Both he and Idgie were dressed rather similarly: mannish britches and tunics, riding boots and cloaks. Karna's clothing had a definitive Elvish turn to it, with predominance towards angular design and green-and-brown fabrics embroidered with golden thread. Idgie wore hard leather armor as an extra layer over the rest of her clothing, and yet despite the masculine design of her clothes, there was still a feminine curve to her form. Most of Idgie's clothes were a nondescript brown, and not a bit of white showed on any of it. Fiona noted that the younger woman's weapons were missing from their sheaths.

They reached the gate in short order, and Fiona paid the porter and each groom a tip of a silver coin apiece for their efforts, once the horses were laden. "Shouldn't we perhaps have an extra beast of burden or two?" asked Karna as they departed.

"That's been taken care of," said Fiona. "We have a pair of pack horses out at Xenia's." Karna nodded in response.

The excitement from the Harvest Festival had died down by now, and so the amount of traffic in the city that morning was drastically lower than it had been a week ago. Idgie picked up her weapons from the guardhouse, and then the three of them set out at a light trot towards the north gate of the city. They didn't care to have their conversations overheard by passersby, and so they rode in silence. It was only a few minutes' trot to the walls of the city, and they passed through the north gate before half-past eight.

Beyond the gate there opened an entirely new world before them. Left behind were the comforts (and dangers) of the great city of the northeast, and before them lay entirely new comforts and dangers. To their right was the Sea behind the rocky shoreline north of Sarakkhis; to the left they could see the start of the vast farmlands that stretched to the east of the city. Straight ahead of them, perhaps five miles from the city gates, was the beginnings of the Great North Woods, and the Forest River came rushing in its boulder-strewn rapids down from the Woods to flow southwards into the city, passing under the main wall through a massive steel portcullis. The road that they followed, the East Coast Caravan Route, started bending almost at once to the northeast. The road would eventually turn almost due north at the shore of the Sea, and would wind its way along the shoreline, pinched in between the Northmarch Mountains and the ocean, through Brundel and all the way to Camaar in the far north.

Karna looked back over his shoulder at the city as the trio was finally rid of potential eavesdroppers. "I've always been impressed by the construction of the city's walls," he said.

"Huh?" Idgie said as she and Fiona also turned to look back. They could see the Academy towers in the East and the Citadel of the Prince in the West peeking over the 30-foot-high walls of the city. "How come? Most every city has big walls."

"Not like the ones Sarakkhis has," answered the Elf. "Sarakkhis is one of the few cities whose defenses were planned with the knowledge that attacks might come not only from above, such as by dragons (Indra forbid), but also from inimical wizards, or people using magical devices. The walls are reinforced against most if not all of the more common spells used for infiltration."

"Like what spells?" asked Idgie.

"Well, like passwall, for example."

"What's that?"

"I was just getting to that."

"So get to it." Idgie kept a straight face until Karna stammered for a moment in confusion, and then she smiled brightly and chuckled.

Fiona gave a small laugh, more at Karna's reaction than at Idgie's joke. "You'd better get used to that," she told the Elf.

Karna sighed, pursed his lips for a moment in irritation, and rolled his eyes. "Wonderful."

Idgie smiled winsomely. "You were saying?"

Karna sighed again. "Passwall is a spell that opens a temporary ten-foot deep, 10-foot diameter hole in a wall for infiltrators to pass through. It…"

"Wow! I could sure use that spell from time to time."

"Yes." Karna looked a bit lost, unused to being interrupted. "Um, yes. Now. The walls of the city are twenty feet thick, and so it's unlikely that anyone would be able to use passwall to breach the walls."

"I get it. Because the walls are too thick for it."

"Too thick for one casting, but not for two. But it isn't too likely a mage could get off a second passwall."

"Why not?"

"Because he'd be filled with arrows first," answered Fiona for Karna. "The spell has limited range, and the entire area of where the mage could be would be filled with volleys of arrows from the city's archers – plus any defending mages from the Academy would take a very keen interest in flushing out said mage. He'd not last long." Fiona then turned to Karna, who nodded and continued.

"There's also a spell called rock to mud that's very commonly used."

"Let me guess," said Idgie. "It turns stones into horse shit."

Karna had a look of sheer annoyance on his face, and Idgie was positively beaming. Fiona stepped in. "All right, you, that's quite enough." She glared at Idgie, who made no response, remaining locked in her impish grin. "Let him finish."

"Aw, Fi, you're no fun." Idgie then laughed, and quieted herself just long enough for Karna to finish his dissertation: there was a one-foot-thick slab of iron that ran down the center of the walls, and this foiled the rock to mud spell and several other spells. Behind the iron were an inch-thick sheet of lead, and then a six-inch band of sand, also designed to stop or retard the use of a number of common spells. On top of the walls, besides normal archers, were huge, heavy ballistae designed for shooting down flying creatures who were attacking the city.

"You see," concluded Karna, "Sarakkhis is a relatively young city. Many older cities have outdated stone-and-mortar walls, and either don't have the money, the time, or the resources to build some better walls."

"Like where?" Idgie couldn't keep her tongue in check any longer.

"Like the Sapphire Coast, for example. It's uniquely isolated from other mainland cities. It's blocked off from the rest of the mainland by the impassable Barrier Peaks, and so it may as well be on an island. They have no resident mages there, and so…"

"Why not?"

"Why not what?"

"Why don't they have any resident mages?"

"I don't know, they just don't."

"That's stupid."

Karna shrugged. "Whatever you say. Why don't you tell them that?"

Idgie smiled. "I just might!"

Karna let that drop.

The three of them had long since left the main road, and they were following a thinly defined path at the shore of the river. They pushed their horses into a quick trot as the path began to flatten, and soon they reached the edge of the forest, where they again slowed to an easy walk. The North Wood was a mix of deciduous trees and conifers at this latitude, more the former than the latter, and its autumn color was just into its peak. The dappled light coming down through the trees to illuminate the moss-covered rocks and ferns of the forest floor, the snatches of sky showing clear and pale through the canopy, and the fiery reds and oranges of the turning leaves dazzled the eye. There was a gentle mixture of scents on the wind, the crackling leaves of autumn tinged with hints of the winter soon to come. Fiona breathed them deeply in and sighed happily. Karna seemed lost in some reverie, and he clearly was paying only as much attention to surroundings as necessary to keep himself on the horse and going the correct direction. Idgie was smiling beatifically. The younger woman beamed happily at the trees all about her, and her eyes searched the woods for signs of animal life.

After a few moments of fruitless peering about, Idgie reached into an inner pocket within her cloak and drew out a small white flute. Fiona smiled as Idgie brought the flute to her lips and started playing a quiet tune. After a few minutes of this, Karna suddenly seemed to realize that something was going on. He started as if woken from a deep sleep, and then listened attentively as Idgie played. A mile or two passed by beneath their horses' hooves as her song continued. It was a simple enough tune, but it was extraordinarily pretty, and Idgie was a skilled player blessed with deft fingers. Her airs were complex and refined, and not so much majestic and grandiose as pure and unadulterated. Fiona picked up the main melodies to the tune, as they forded the wide but shallow and swift Forest River and turned left up the third tributary, and she began humming a counterpoint to it, or occasionally joined in with a simple harmony to the main melody. They rode wordlessly, one woman playing and the other humming gently, in a song to mimic the beauty of the ancient trees. And all the while Karna sat silently and listen with rapt attention.

Fiona looked over to Karna and smiled even as she hummed, and then quickly turned away from him so that the look wouldn't be misunderstood. This was indeed pleasant. Delmar had assumed that Fiona's and Idgie's music were meant to be a device to seduce him, and he had reacted to the singing in a way that Fiona had deemed improper, and she had let him know this quite clearly. After that, she and Idgie had saved their music for themselves. Fiona knew within her that Delmar would have reacted negatively if they had sung and played in his presence again. But Karna was apparently taking the music the way it was meant to be taken, and he listened respectfully and with relish.

Their song lasted for a long while, and then ended in a pleasant dénouement that finally stilled with a gentle chord, Idgie playing a dual tone on her flute and Fiona providing the final note with her voice. Fiona and Idgie just smiled at one another for half a moment, and then went back to drinking in the beauty of their surroundings. The air was still icy cold, but the woods swallowed any breezes, and so there was no wind to cut through their cloaks to their skin. Their breath still steamed in the air, as did the breath of their horses.

"That was very beautiful," said Karna simply after a moment. "I am quite impressed."

"Thank you," said Fiona, and Idgie beamed.

"Can you play or sing, Karna?" asked Idgie.

"No," said Karna, sounding a bit disappointed, and perhaps a bit annoyed with himself. "I never had time to learn, with all my other studies. I tried once, but I seem to have a tin ear, so to speak."

"That's too bad," said Idgie, and it was the first time that Karna had heard her say anything with a tone even approaching serious. But then she immediately turned to Fiona. "How far have we come?"

"I'm not sure; perhaps about four miles from the turnoff." Karna nodded in agreement.

"Cool!" said Idgie. "We're almost there. Let's hurry, I'm starving!" At that, she spurred her horse into a slow canter. Tell gave her a disapproving look, and Krish and Maris were equally unpleased when Karna and Fiona cracked their reins to keep up with their impetuous young companion.

It was only a scant four or five minutes later that Idgie suddenly reined in at the top of a hillock, and Fiona and Karna pulled up next to her. Below them was a small dell, through which ran the tributary to the Forest River, spilling over the side of a small cliff into a small but deep and clear pool, and then continuing on past them, paralleling the path they'd taken to reach that place. A cabin of some size, perhaps one of four or five rooms, sat at the very center of the dell. It was made of wood and stone by an expert hand, and it had a sloped slate roof. There was a single chimney, and it was smoking happily. Fiona could smell the maple wood burning in the fireplace, and it brought a smile to her face. The cabin was plain but functional, with several windows but no decorations. To the north, their right, was a pair of buildings set aside from the main cabin: a stable for as many as eight horses, and a drying-house for curing pelts. The area had been cleared of most of the leaves, and several paths led their way about the dell, the most prominent ones connecting the stables, pool, and cabin. There was a large porch across the entire front of the cabin, and several pieces of rustic furniture were there, and planted in a pair of oddly-structured chairs at the center of the porch were Xenia and Mandi, chatting merrily with one another. Or rather, to be more specific, Mandi was doing most of the chatting, and Xenia was sitting quietly nearby, smiling and occasionally nodding.

Idgie waved her hand and called out, "Hey, guys! We're here!" And with that she spurred Tell forward and down into the dell. Fiona and Karna followed close behind, and Mandi and Xenia arose from the porch to meet them. Like the others, Mandi and Xenia were dressed for the journey ahead. Mandi, perhaps surprisingly, was dressed in plate mail, although her gauntlets and helm were nowhere to be seen; she wore a great blue cloak embroidered with the symbols of Donnor. I've never seen anyone make armor look so much like an evening gown, thought Fiona, not without some tiny twinge of jealousy. Xenia, on the other hand, was dressed in weather-beaten and weather-stained leather armor, and she had on a great green cloak lined with furs. The cloak was so mottled and stained from use that she nearly blended into the background when she drew it about herself and stood still.

The first order of business was introductions. "Xenia, Mandi, may I present Karna, a classmate of mine at the Academy, and now our companion. Karna, this is Mandragora… and Xenia."

Karna was quite taken aback by the prettiness of Mandi, and if she had been wearing anything more flattering, he assuredly would not have managed even a single word to her. He gave a short bow. "Yes, well, nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Mandragora."

Mandi smiled effusively, and Karna was instantly struck dumb. "Pleased to meet you, Karna. I hope things will work out for both you and I in this venture. And please, if you would, just 'Mandi'."

Karna was at an absolute loss for words, trying desperately to read any signals within her words. To keep himself out of trouble, he turned to Xenia. The ranger was a marked contrast to the priestess. Not that she was unattractive – no, not that. Karna found her to be neither beautiful nor ugly, just very simple and plain. And unlike most women he'd had to deal with, Xenia did not seem so preoccupied with appearances and perceptions: Xenia simply was, and Karna found himself very impressed with that. He gave a short bow to the ranger. "Fiona has told me a great deal about you," he said. "If half of it is true, we are lucky indeed to be your companions. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Xenia." He proffered his hand to shake, and Xenia took it. His hand was about average in size for a male Elf, and Xenia's was quite large for a woman, and so their hands matched almost perfectly in size. And when Karna gave a small squeeze to test the strength of her grip, he was startled to find that it had absolutely no give whatsoever. He got the distinct impression that, should she want to, Xenia could tear his hand from his wrist without thinking twice about it. Yet she simply shook his hand in return, giving him a nod.

While Karna seemed distracted for the moment (indeed, he was still marveling at her iron grip), Xenia took a second to glance at Fiona. The raise in the ranger's eyebrow was barely perceptible, but Fiona had learned to spot such signals and to read their meanings. Fiona simply gave her shoulders a slight shrug in return without changing her facial expression, and Xenia gave a slight cock of her head in acceptance. Fiona breathed an internal sigh of relief. Xenia was perhaps the only person other than herself that Fiona trusted as a judge of character, and this wordless conversation had related to Fiona what she had hoped: Xenia thought Karna was a bit odd, but he would do.

Xenia released Karna's hand. "Come on, let's go in," she said to the others. Again, Karna was surprised at the simple plainness of her voice. There was no husk to it, no musical quality, no tone of angst or arrogance or any other emotion: it simply existed. Xenia continued on as she turned towards the front door of the cabin. "Uncle Roan has cooked up quite a treat for us."

"Do you mean for us, or for you, Xenia?" asked Idgie, grinning.

Xenia made her reply without the least bit of change to her matter-of-fact delivery. "No, for all of us. He's cooked at least three times what I could eat alone." With that, she opened the door and stepped in.

The interior of the cabin very neatly matched the exterior: everything in the cabin was unadorned and functional, and beautiful only in its simplicity and efficiency of make. There were wooden seats with pelt-stuffed fur cushions, deerskin rugs, and a number of lamps and sconces, but very little else in the main room, except for a simple brick fireplace, which was lit. There was a kitchen of sorts with a table that sat six, and a wooden butcher's block for preparing any meals. There were also rooms behind closed doors that could not be seen from the living room; Karna correctly guessed that these were guestrooms and the bedrooms of the cabin's two occupants.

The second occupant of the cabin, as mentioned before, was Xenia's uncle Roan. He was about fifty-five years old, and he was nothing if not burly. He was at least two inches over six feet tall, and his chest was positively barrel-shaped. His fingers were large and thick, and his palms were stained black from his work. He had several small cuts and burns on his hands and wrists, which seemed to bother him not in the least. He wore a leather tunic and britches, and about his waist was a black linen apron. He had long gray hair and a white beard, and he was usually smiling. "Hello, hello!" he called as the newcomers came in. "Good for you to make it! We were beginning to worry that you'd gotten yourselves lost."

"Nothing of the sort, I assure you," said Fiona. "Goodman Roan, this is Karna, the newest addition to our adventuring party."

"Good to meet you, lad." Roan's grip was nearly as powerful as that of his niece, and Karna squeezed tightly to avoid having to wince.

"Pleased to meet you, good Sir."

"Good grip, lad," said Roan to the Elf, and then he turned to Fiona. "Is he always this formal?"

Fiona gave a short nod. "Usually."

"Ah, nothing wrong with that," said Roan. He smiled. "Now come on, all of you. I've made us some eats to see you off. Sit down and dig in!"

Breakfast was indeed splendid, and Fiona noted that Roan, while not quite as refined a cook as she herself was, had put together a more than passable breakfast. The food was rich and flavorful, and designed to provide strength and energy for the adventurers on the road ahead. There was bacon, eggs, cheeses, apples, hearty breads, smoked sausages, fresh butter and cream and honey, and a refreshingly light and cold clear wine. There was polite conversation for a while, speaking mostly of weather and goings-on in the city, while the lot of them sated their appetites, and packed yet more away in anticipation of the trip. Karna noted with amazement that Fiona's stories about Xenia's propensity for eating were not the least bit overstated. Not only was Xenia the only one of them to eat a full helping of every last item Roan cooked, she took (and polished off) seconds on each as well, and even took thirds on some items. But finally, after the feeding frenzy had slowed, and each person was sipping her wine and slowly polishing off the last items on her plate, the conversation suddenly took a much more serious turn.

"So," said Roan expansively, looking to Xenia. "It seems that you and your friends have gotten yourselves knee-deep in this quest for some lost city, eh? Well, best of luck to you all. It's pleased me enough that you've brought an excellent lad and three ladies as pretty as yourself to make my table such a fine place to eat, but it would please me more if you'd all come back in one piece."

"Of course we will, Uncle." Xenia smiled a bit. "I know I can find the place, especially after I have a good look at the maps Fi brought with her."

"Aye, but then again, once you get there, what will you do, eh? Roll the dice and hope for the best?"

"Not quite," said Fiona. She had dealt with Roan often enough to drop all formalities of address with him. "We're not ones to go stumbling blindly into situations, and if worse comes to worst, we all know how to run. No sense getting ourselves killed over some supposed treasure."

"Speak for yourself, Fi!" said Idgie, and she then laid a fond hand on Roan's shoulder. "Now, don't you go worrying about us, dear," she said to him. "We'll have Xenia and Karna and Mandi to take care of us. I'm not worried!"

"Aye, lass," he said, blushing a bit. "And that's exactly why I am worried!" That drew a general round of laughter, but then Roan's face darkened again. He turned back to Xenia. "But more seriously: will you encounter the Enemy there?"

"I don't know, Uncle," answered Xenia. "Fi hasn't figured that out."

"And what if there is one there? What will you do then?"

"My best, just as you taught me."

"Um, excuse me," said Karna, a bit shyly. "But what do you mean by the Enemy? Isn't any creature in the Wild an enemy, after a manner of speaking? Or is there something else that is being referred to?"

The four women didn't answer, for they were in the know. Roan answered Karna himself. "No, lad, we mean a very specific Enemy. How much do you know about the Rangers?"

"Well…" Karna worried that this was a trick question, and he hoped he wasn't giving an incorrect response. "I know that you and Xenia are Rangers. I know that the Rangers are a bit of a secretive sect of fighters; you specialize in skills that have to do with the out-of-doors, and that you seem to have special bonds with nature and animals. You also use fighting styles not generally known throughout the land, and that the techniques in this style you tend to keep secret. Other than that…" He trailed off.

"Hey, pretty good," said Idgie, raising her eyebrows in a compliment. Karna didn't notice it; he was too intently watching for Roan's reactions. Fiona smiled quietly to herself.

"Well, lad, you're close," said Roan. "But not quite." He leaned over the table, and stared the Elf directly in the eyes. Karna suppressed an urge to run. The big man then started orating, and even Idgie kept quiet.

"The Rangers, although we all work together, are a group of loosely organized sects all dedicated to the services of the two gods whom we hold most dear: Oak the Lord of Trees, and Yavanna the Mistress of Agriculture and Animals. There are some tenets held by all sects, including the fighting styles, but each individual sect is marked apart by something that makes each one especially unique: a totem. Each sect holds this totem very dear unto itself, and yet we never begrudge any other sect for their own totem." He sighed as the five others listened in rapt attention. "You see, lad, it is our belief that the gods made the creatures for good, and that they made the trees for good. But some of the gods went mad, and corrupted some of the creatures, and the Lady of Pain, Kali herself, created out of her black bosom a whole host of foul beasts. These fell beings are a scourge upon our Earth, on our mother Erda. Their presence harms the presence of all good beings, regardless of whether or not we love those good beings. The gods of the Circle have condemned the very presence of these evil creatures. They must be eradicated. That is what we see as our duty: the eradication of the fell creatures of the Earth. And so, each sect of the Rangers has chosen unto itself a totem: and that totem is the beast that we have sworn to seek out and destroy, even as we work to make the forests and lands a happier, more peaceful place for all good creatures to dwell. Our totem is our Enemy."

Karna had a number of questions that sprung to mind, but he decided to keep them to himself and address the obvious conversational hint that had been handed to him. "And what is your totem? What creatures are your Enemy?"

Roan looked long and hard at the Elf. "I can see that there are a thousand whats and whys on your tongue, lad," he said. "And perhaps in time I can answer those questions for you. But for now I'll tell you only this: some sects have Giants as their totem, and others have the were-beasts, or Orcs, or Trolls. But for us – for Xenia and I and the rest of our sect – our totem is the Dragon."

Karna's eyebrows shot up with a start. "Surely not all Dragons, good and evil?" he said. "From what little understanding of it I have, Erda herself created the good Dragons to combat the ones that Kali created at the beginning of the Second Age."

This time it was Mandi's turn to speak, and she spoke in her rich contralto unto the Elf. "You are again close in your guesses, Karna," she said. "The First Age ended with the end of the War of the Gods, when my lord Donnor wrestled Kali to the earth, and their struggle was so mighty that it sundered the One Continent into eight pieces, the largest of which is the one upon which we now dwell."

"What happened to Kali then?" Idgie asked.

"She was fettered in unbreakable iron chains under the smallest continent, which we now call Athas," answered the priestess. "That entire megalithic island is now made barren because of her: it is a desert where none but the very strongest and luckiest survive. The entire circle of the Twelve joined their powers together, and each gave up a bit of his or her own might to put into the chains, so that Kali could never escape her bonds.

"Yet they could not forbid Kali from performing lesser acts of evil, and they could not bind her thoughts. In her great wrath, she bade her agents fetch beings of all races, intelligent or not, to her that she might try and corrupt them. She killed thousands in unsuccessful attempts to improve on her first race, the Drow."

Karna started at that, and spoke sharply. "Please bear in mind, fine and fair Lady, that that word is the gravest insult in the tongue of my people," he said. "It is not spoken among us, even in candid conversation among friends."

Mandi looked hurt. "I am sorry, Karna. I didn't realize that it would upset you."

"I am sorry for reacting as such," said Karna, relenting at once and blushing a bit. "I know you meant no harm, and I apologize for not being more politic in my speech." He sighed. "I may have been raised by humans, but there are still some things that catch me by surprise: things in my Elvish blood. When you said that word, it made my blood boil. I am sorry."

Mandi nodded. "I'll forgive you if you forgive me." She smiled, and Karna nodded once sheepishly.

Idgie leaned close to Fiona, and whispered, "She's good." Fiona nodded quietly.

Mandi continued her tale. "In the end, even though Kali was able to create a horde of new monsters, which she let loose to do great evil upon the world, she still had not created the being that she perceived could do her the greatest service. Now, when the gods of the Circle gave of themselves (and took from Quetzlcoatl, Shi Lung, Coyote and Maelduin) to chain Kali, they lost much of their power. One way in this is seen nowadays is that it was much easier back in the First Age to make magical items, even easier than in the Third Age, before the Sealing of the Nameless Place when the gods gave of themselves again." She looked to Karna, and he and Fiona nodded: this was among the first historical items taught to mages in their early schooling in magic at the Academy. "Kali was loath to make such a sacrifice in power," continued Mandi. "But in the end, she realized that she must, if she were ever to succeed in creating a creature of consummate destruction. And thus she took part of her own power – some say more than half of it – and with it created the five primal dragons, one male for each of the five chromatic races. There was Ancalagon the Black, Glaurung the Green, Mordred the White, Yggrynd the Blue, and chief among them was the Beast, Ereshkigal the Red, a name neither the Dwarves nor Elves will mention aloud, so great was his evil. She mated with each of these in turn, and spawned the great race of Dragons. It was these dragons, and the undead that Kali also created, that did so much evil in the world in the Second Age. It was Kali that caused all the Great Wars." Mandi stood up. "We, the chosen priests of Donnor, are a church as well," she said, "although perhaps a bit more formal in some ways, and less formal in others, than the Rangers. But our priesthood too has a great Purpose: to a one we are trained warriors, and we are sworn to fight Kali and her evils unto the death if need be, and even after death, should the Dark One, Selivron himself, will it."

Fiona gave a shudder at the name of Selivron. No church spoke of the Dark God of Death, and some priests refused to even acknowledge that he was numbered among the twelve in the Circle.

"Well spoken, lass," said Roan. "I am proud that one as you shall be at the side of my dearest Xenia. If you be half the warrior that you are a speaker, you shall serve you God and ours well."

Mandi blushed a bit and bowed her head to Roan. "To finish my story," she said, "it is known that some time later, during the Great Wars, the metallic dragons were created as a race to serve the good creatures of the world, in battle or with wisdom. None know now who created them, but it is widely suspected that Erda herself had a hand in things, bless her name! There are some that say that the first metallic dragons were cast in their respective metals by Dwarves, and that Erda breathed life into them. Others say that Erda spat them full-grown from her deepest bowels. In any event, none now consider the two classes of dragon to be anything more than distantly related. There are a great number of magical spells and artifacts that affect all species of dragon (and only dragons), yet there are many more which differentiate between the two. It is my guess that the five good races of dragon – the copper, bronze, brass, silver, and gold – have nothing to fear from our good Ranger friends."

Roan and Xenia nodded as one. "Aye, lass," said Roan. "You see it clearly, and you do yourself and your Church well by your wisdom. For we do not fight against the five good species of dragon: nay, we will not even lift a blade against them, but rather we would fight by their side if they ever find the use for us. And yet, should a chromatic dragon ever cross our path, it is our sworn duty to kill it, and should we not be strong enough to do the killing ourselves, we are bound to find aid, and stronger allies."

"Have you killed any dragons yourself, good Sir?" asked Karna.

"Yeah," added Idgie, echoing the question. "How many times have you eaten dragon stew?"

Roan laughed. "I've never eaten dragon," he answered. "Their meat is poisonous. But as to your question, lad: I have killed off a fair number of them myself, but never one of the truly powerful ones. No, not old Roan, here. I'd felt Oak's Spark enough times to open the very first ring of his spells within my mind, but never more than that. I'm old now, and retired: I've wounds that will never heal. But you all now…" He laid a fond hand on Xenia's shoulder, and sighed. Roan then looked deeply into each of the five of them, one man or woman at a time. "You all have the blood of youth within you, even you, lad, though you're likely nearly my own age," he said. "You've the entire world before you. You may all become some of the Great, but you may all die horrid deaths before this is all over. May the Gods of the Circle be with you all, and may wisdom be your greatest ally."

Fiona stood up. "May I propose a toast?" She lifted her glass.

Idgie nodded, standing up too. "Go for it, Fi."

Fiona cleared her throat as the others rose, taking their glasses in hand as well. "I give you health, happiness, and long life," began Fiona. "And friendship, and strength, and skill, and wisdom. The Luck of Tyche be with us! And may we never fail ourselves or one another."

"The Circle!" they all cried, for that was the tradition in those parts; and with that each man and woman stood and drained his or her cup.

They would have been off sooner, but the four guests insisted on helping clean up the place after the meal. Luckily, because they divided duties well (and because Fiona was running things), the chores were finished in short order. There were some quick good-byes to Roan, culminating with his usual bear hug of Xenia. And then the five of them saddled up their horses, loaded much of the extra equipment on the two pack horses, and moved out, taking a heading of almost due north away from the cabin. Xenia led the way, of course, on her chestnut gelding named Samuel, while Mandi took the rear guard, leading the two pack horses, while riding her own horse (a speckled gray mare named Cheya).

Xenia leaned close to Samuel's ear, and Fiona overheard her low murmuring as the mage went forward to meet the ranger. "That direction," said Xenia to her mount, pointing. "No meandering. You've just eaten, so I don't want to hear any whining about being hungry until sunset. Now move." Samuel started off at once, and the rest of them fell in behind, while Fiona continued moving forward to meet Xenia. Xenia sat up just as Fiona reached her side. "Let's see that map," said the Ranger.

Fiona nodded. "I had anticipated that you would want to." She reached into her cloak and took out one of the three copies of the map she had made (Idgie had the second, and Karna the third). Xenia took the map from her, letting go of the reins and trusting Samuel to follow orders. Xenia pored over the map for a few minutes, her brow furrowed in thought. She checked the legend and scale, and then measured off some distances with her fingers. Then she noticed something, and leaned over to Fiona.

"What's this?" she asked, indicating the road heading from Beleriand toward the Iron Hills.

Fiona told her what it was. "The problem, though, is that we have no idea how much of it is left. It might be impossible to find."

"How long ago was it last used? And how heavy was the traffic on it?"

"About 150 years ago, and the traffic was pretty heavy. It was between Dwarven cities, and so it was likely paved, or at least marked with stones."

Xenia nodded, rolled the map back up, and handed it back to Fiona without saying another word.

Fiona arched an eyebrow. "Well?"

"Well what?"

Fiona gave a small sigh. Idgie did this sort of thing on purpose, but Xenia did it quite by accident, and so Fiona had to practice more patience here. "Can you find it?" she asked the ranger.

"Yes."

"You're positive?"

"Yes."

"How long will it take us?"

Xenia scrunched her nose in thought for a second. "We'll make about twenty miles a day on these horses, and it's about four hundred fifty miles to Beleriand according to this map. That make it, what, about three weeks?" She looked to Fiona, who nodded. "Hm, good. I might actually be learning some of this division stuff you've been trying to teach me."

Fiona nodded and smiled. "Good to see you're making use of it, too."

"Of course, there could be problems."

"Problems?"

"Delays."

"Like what?"

"Like critters. Or monsters. Or snow."

"Snow?"

"It sometimes snows in October where we're heading. It could cut our speed in half."

Fiona sighed. "Lovely. Let's just trust a bit in Tyche and hope she's got half an eye on us."

That first day they made a bit less progress than they had hoped, for reasons of the late start and the adjustments that most of them had to make to get used to the heavy travel. But the second day dawned as clear and cold as the first, and the company made enough progress to make Fiona happy, getting back to a pace that she enjoyed. However, during that day the clouds had begun rolling in, and by the time they stopped to camp that night it was raining steadily. They all pulled their cloaks about themselves and bowed their heads as Xenia and Samuel led them unerringly northwards. When they pulled up to make camp in a small thicket that night, Karna of all of them seemed the least pleased at the turn of the weather.

"What's the matter, Karna?" asked Mandi as they set up the tents. "It looks like something's bothering you."

"Oh, it's nothing," said Karna, but his tone betrayed a bit of annoyance. "It's just that, well, we Elves don't need that much sleep, you know…"

"Really? I wasn't aware of that."

Karna nodded. "I only sleep about four hours a night. The rest of the time I usually read – but in this weather I don't dare get my books out of my packs."

Mandi smiled knowingly, and wiped some rain from her face with her sleeve. Then the two of them went back to pitching the tents.

Xenia had found a patch of wild tubers and also managed to catch herself a rabbit when scouting the area around the camp, and Fiona used these to concoct a tasty stew for their dinner. All save Xenia were tired, unused to the strains of travel, and they settled into their tents early. Fiona and Idgie shared a tent as was their wont, and Mandi and Xenia shared a second, while Karna slept alone in the third.

They awoke the next day to a torrential downpour. They struck camp as quickly as possible, and they didn't even bother trying to light a fire in the rain; breakfast was dried fruits and cheese. It was actually a bit warmer that day than the previous had been, but it certainly didn't feel it. Fiona worried a bit that with the heavy rains, her traveling spellbooks might be ruined in her pack, but luckily they survived unharmed.

The storm abated after just a day or so, and the rest of that week they made excellent progress in slightly warmer weather. Xenia guessed that they had gone nearly sixty leagues in that first week alone, shaving a day or two off the trip, and at this Fiona was very pleased. The horses were coming along fine under the Ranger's excellent care.

It was the tenth day of their journey when the weather again took a turn for the worse. The day had dawned cloudy and cool, but slightly after breakfast the temperatures began to drop, and a strong wind from the northwest rose up, blowing so strongly that it could be felt even in the dells among the trees. It was just after noon that the black clouds began to appear overhead. Karna, Mandi and Xenia, who were riding ahead of the other two to discuss battle tactics and draw up plans should they run into trouble, looked to the sky, and at once the Elf and Ranger knew what was in store.

"Snow soon," said Xenia, and Karna nodded in agreement.

Mandi sighed. "Well, you did warn us that it could happen." She pulled a pair of mittens out of a saddlebag behind her and drew them on.

Sure enough, in about ten minutes the snow began falling. It snowed on and off for the main part of that day, and little more than a dusting to an inch fell upon the branches of the trees. But just as sunset was drawing nigh, the wind suddenly trebled in strength, and the snow began coming down in earnest, bringing the visibility down to less than fifteen yards. The temperature continued to plummet.

Karna leaned close to Xenia and spoke loudly to be heard over the wind. "Is this natural?"

Xenia nodded. "It's rare, but it does happen," she said. "The horses don't like it, and we'll have to look to try to find them – and us – some shelter soon."

"Any suggestions?"

She nodded again. "In about half an hour we'll reach a small series of hills, a western spur of the Northmarch Mountains," she said. "I saw them when I climbed a tree before breakfast. This is as far into the forest as I've ever been; my Uncle and I came out here before, about three years ago, and he showed me a Ranger's Hut hidden away in a cave in the hills. I should be able to find it easily once we get near it."

"A Ranger's Hut?" asked Karna. "What's that?"

"A small shelter, usually built in a thicket or a cave," she answered. "Rangers maintain them so that they and other rangers can use them at need. There will be firewood and clean water, and a place to find shelter from the winds. Uncle and I maintain a pair of them in our territory."

Karna took the opportunity to ask a question that had been burning in his mind for the past week. By now, he felt more comfortable with all the members of the group, and felt if he phrased the question properly, he might ask something of a personal nature. "I have been wondering, Xenia," he called over a sudden gust of wind. "You live with your uncle alone, yes?"

Xenia only looked at him in response. Great clumps of snow whirled about them.

"I was just wondering," continued Karna. "Whatever happened to your parents?"

There was no pause before the response came. "They were killed in a fire when I was young," said Xenia, a slight change of tone to her voice. Karna caught the significance of it immediately, having spent ten days or more with the Ranger and never hearing her emotions get stirred up over any matter.

"I am very sorry," said Karna, barely audible over the wind. He blinked as several snowflakes landed in his eyes. "How old were you? Was it an accident?"

"I was three. They were murdered." Xenia's voice was colder than the wind that fought to drown it.

"I am sorry," said Karna simply, and he did not pursue the matter further.

The snow had yet to abate when they reached the hills. The trees were still as thick and strong and closely placed as they had been for the entire journey, but now the forest floor began rolling in small hillocks. Fiona, Mandi and Idgie huddled their horses closer together for warmth while Xenia and Karna slowed at the lead. The Ranger peered carefully at every rock and tree that they passed. It took perhaps ten minutes of searching before she spotted something of interest. "There," she said to Karna, pointing.

"Where?" He saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"That tree," she replied, pointing carefully. "See that broken branch? That break isn't natural: it was made very intentionally." She edged Samuel over to the tree, and Karna brought Krish up next to them. "See here," she said, indicating some small scratchings in the tree-bark. "Those are Ranger-marks, made to look like animal-markings. They tell us that the Hut is to the northeast, less than a mile from here."

"Hm," said Karna, not comprehending the codes within the markings. "Perhaps you can teach me how to read these signs, someday."

"Maybe." Xenia's deadpan reply let Karna know that she was back to normal again. She turned Samuel to the northeast and started him moving along with a word.

The shelter was found a few minutes later in a hidden cave behind a copse of fir trees. It was a narrow but deep stone cave with a dirt floor, and there was just enough room for the five of them and the horses. The rear of the cave had a definite end, to Fiona's relief, and there was an area cordoned off which was clearly meant for the horses. There was even feed for the animals in sealed casks: oats enough for the lot of them for over a week. Near the 'stables' was a small pool of water, icy cold but clear and clean, which was fed by an underground spring and which ran off into the hills through a small crack in the wall, too small for even a rabbit. At the front of the cave was a small fire-pit, and nearby was dried firewood in great quantities, enough to last them for a month of need be.

The group let out a collective sigh of relief and set to making themselves comfortable in the cave. They laid out their bedrolls, and Fiona cooked up a warm dinner as best she could with their road-rations. The earthen floor was relatively smooth and flat, and there were no rocks to have to pick out of the small of one's back, and so the five of them had a comfortable sleep that night, the trees at the cave's mouth keeping the wind and snow at bay. There was a howling of wolves during the night, but Xenia said, "Don't worry; they're hungry, but there's much better prey for them out there than in here," and the others at once relaxed and went back to sleep.

The snow tapered off during the night to mere flurries, and by noon the next day, when the group was back on the road and had left the Hut several miles behind, the snow stopped. Their progress was slowed the next few days as the foot of new snow made going more difficult, and then, as the weather warmed and the snows melted, the resulting slush and mud were a nuisance. Fiona became bothered at the slower progress, and they lost nearly a full day off the day and a half they had gained previously. But the temperature continued to climb, even as they went further and further north, so that by the fifteenth day of their journey, the temperatures had reached those of a mid-September afternoon in Sarakkhis, despite it being early October and well to the north. (Donnor's Mercy was what they called the late period of warmer days in that part of the world.) Progress began getting better, and over the next few days they made up much of what was lost to the snowstorm.

It was at about this time that Xenia slowed their pace slightly, and began examining the forest floor with greater care. Their course had bent slightly to the west of due north over the past week or so, and they had to be careful not to miss what they had come all this way to look for. It was early in the afternoon of their twentieth day out from Sarakkhis that Xenia pulled up on Samuel and raised her hand. "Here we are," she said.

"Huh," said Idgie. "Doesn't look much like a ruined city to me." Indeed, they were amid a large number of tall pines, and not a building could be seen.

"No, we're not at the city," said Xenia. "Look." She pointed to the forest floor, and indicated a narrow track that was running east/west across their path. "We've reached the road." Indeed, now that the others came and looked at it, the fact that a road had once run through this area was obvious. Fiona could see that, with few exceptions, the trees had been cleared from a ten-foot-wide track running off on both directions perpendicular to their heading. Here and there could be seen the remains of paving stones, still untouched in small area, while being scattered or buried in most places. After carefully looking at the road, Fiona almost laughed to herself. She had been worried to a distraction at times over whether or not Xenia could find or follow the road, but Fiona now saw that she herself wouldn't have missed it in the daylight, and any fool could likely follow the old road all the way to its ends. The group turned and headed up the road to the right.

They rode the remainder of that day up the road to Beleriand, but come sunset they had yet to reach the city. "How much further?" asked Idgie as they set up camp.

"How accurate was that map, Fi?" asked Xenia.

"Within about ten miles, in all likelihood, one way or another."

Xenia considered that for a few seconds. "A day or so at most," she said. "We were aiming to a spot about twenty miles west of the place where Beleriand was marked on the map. We've come about twelve miles along the road already. We should get there tomorrow."

As usual, Xenia proved to be correct, for just after eleven the next morning, she came to the top of a small hillock and pulled up short. Fiona, anxious to see what lay ahead, was just behind her, and she pulled up Maris next to Samuel. Below them, maybe a quarter of a mile off at the base of the hill, was a mile-wide circle wherein no trees grew, and even at this distance they could see a number of broken and ruined stone buildings therein.

"Beleriand," breathed Fiona as Xenia turned around and went back to join the others. The group had planned to camp at least two miles outside the ruins in case there might be trouble, and to enter the city just after dawn on the day after they first saw it. Fiona was just about to turn around and head back when Idgie trotted up on Tell and stood next to her, looking down at the faraway buildings.

"Wow, cool," said Idgie. "Look at it! Hee hee!" She laughed a bit in her excitement. "I can't wait to get down there and see if there's anything good there."

"You'll have your opportunity tomorrow," said Fiona. "Xenia has the best idea: camp a ways away, and come back early." She turned to head back to the others, who were discussing where to try setting up camp.

"Fi," said Idgie suddenly. When Fiona turned back to look at her, the younger woman had a slight look of apprehension on her face.

"Yes?"

"What if we have the same trouble we had last time?"

Fiona paused for a moment of thought, and in that instant the entirety of their careers together flashed before her eyes, from the early days wandering the foothills of the Northmarch Mountains to the deaths of their companions at the hands of a horde of Hobgoblins. There were some good times, but there were a great number of bad ones, culminating with the ill strokes of luck that had cost five people their lives. Fiona dwelt on her reflections for a moment before answering.

"We won't have the same trouble as last time," she answered finally. "We're older, and wiser, and stronger now. If we're ever to succeed, we have to learn from our failures and them put them behind us. I, for one, plan on succeeding here." She turned again back towards the others. "Come on, let's go help set up camp. I'm hungry for an early dinner."

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