Danadrian never had dreams.

  No matter the quality or quantity of his sleep, whether it was in bed, lying on the dirt, or in the back of the cart, he had never once had a dream, and now he was having to come to terms with that fact.

  Save for circumstances where his body needed time to heal or had undergone immense strain, which he wished were rarer, he was very much a light sleeper. That wasn’t great when he was sleeping in a cramped room not too far from the hustle and bustle of a common room, but it did mean that when he received a knock on his door at the crack of dawn, he was up immediately.

  He pulled himself out of bed, still rubbing his eyes, and unsuccessfully stifled a yawn when he opened the door.

  “Good-” There was the yawn, “-morning.”

  Velandus, leaning against a walking stick, looked him up and down. “Did I interrupt your sleep?”

  “I was getting bored of it anyway.” He stopped rubbing his eyes and blinked, taking in all the light, “Unless I have overslept?”

  He nodded, “Just a little. You sleep well for a man who’s just been marked by some pretty dangerous foes, whether they know it yet or not.”

  “That’s awfully blunt, and a bit too revealing for a public space.”

  “It’s loud enough that most people won’t hear too well, and those who are trying to listen probably know it already.”

  That made him pause, halfway in the process of gathering his belongings. He looked up, “Hypothetically speaking, how likely is it that when I walk out there I get jumped and stabbed by a Talradian or hired assassin?”

  Velandus leaned against the door frame and made a show of thinking over it, “Purely hypothetically… there’s probably not that much of a chance.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief.

  “They’re more likely to kill you from afar or poison the morning soup. Might want to steer clear of it today.”

  He gave him a hard glare, “Very funny, now could you perhaps close the door while I get my things in order?”

  The older man turned with a chuckle, “Who said I was joking? The soup smells bad enough that it might actually be poisoned.”

  A few minutes later and the two were walking out of the inn, Danadrian having quickly grabbed an apple and some stale bread for breakfast. Blissfully soup-free. Unfortunately, blissful was not a term he would use when describing the weather. Dull, grey clouds covered the sky. Not rainstorm clouds, at least he hoped not, but enough that the light of the Sun was dimmed.

  “Not exactly the most pleasant of accommodations.”

  “You told me to be cheap, and there are probably worse out there. At least this one doesn’t have a Carathiliarian chef putting bugs in my soup. I live frugally.”

  Velandus waved his hands, “I’m impressed, really. Call it a stereotype, but your Church of the Light tends towards the more ornate, shall we say, so I presumed you’d have more trouble acclimating.”

  “I slept in a hole, Velandus. That bed back there is practically made of silk and dove feathers by comparison.”

  They came round the bend and, after only a minute of walking, came to the old driver’s cart. He noted that the cuts in its cloth covering had been patched up.

  “Alleria’s doing.” He muttered, “We passed a woman stitching her children’s clothing, so she took it upon herself. I think she just wanted to keep her hands busy.”

  Danadrian, now clambering into the back of the cart, looked back at him, “Why would she need to do that?”

  When he pulled the tarp away, he got the answer to his question. Alleria was sitting there, her amber eyes listless and staring off into nothing. She didn’t so much as flinch when he unstrapped his sword and placed it down beside them. Once he was also seated, and she still hadn’t so much as blinked, he cleared his throat.

  “Good morning.”

  She blinked, “Hello? Sorry.” Then rubbed her face. There were dark bags beneath her eyes that he hadn’t noticed the day before, when her face had been covered with dirt and grime. Now he could see just how tired she was.

  “How long have you been awake?”

  She yawned, “Did you know that the days are longer in Demagain? One of the perks of being born in a realm outside of this one is my body was built for that day cycle, not yours.”

  “You have more energy to spare than Humans?”

  “That’s right.”

  “So, how long have you been awake?”

  She shifted herself a little, “Two days.”

  “Is that… healthy for you?”

  “If I were older, maybe, but as I am right now.” She yawned, “Absolutely not, but I didn’t have much of a choice. I needed to find a way out of this trap of a town.”

  He frowned, “The Talradians following you would be a problem, but what would stop Velandus from just riding away with you stowed in a crate?”

  When she glared at him, he clarified.

  “Ignoring how uncomfortable that may be.”

  She sighed and rubbed her face again, “They know I’m constantly on the move, and I may try to make a run for it. There are guards checking everybody leaving town, north or south. Velandus snuck into the wealthy side of town, and apparently Tiana Muthlab is insistent that the Demon threat is ‘exterminated’ rather than allowed to fester, in Fordain or outside it.”

  “Then why not head into the forest? Live off the land for a while until you’re far enough away.”

  She jabbed her thumb behind her to the front of the cart, “Because I can’t leave a certain carter behind. The road south is the most guarded, and if I tried to get through there, my chances would be slim at best. Which is inconvenient when it would be in my best interest to go that way.”

  “Why is that?” He asked, “And for that matter, you promised me answers. Who is Brakenus, and why is his arrival such a problem?”

  At mention of his name, he could visibly see her expression darken. When next she spoke, the emotion in her voice was controlled, “Brakenus is a renowned Talradian and warrior. He leads the Company of the Degormanus, a group of Talradians, Carathiliar, and Moren whose sole purpose in life is to wipe out any Demons they can get their hands on. They call him the Demon Hunter General.”

  He resisted the urge to gulp, “And he’s coming here for you.”

  She nodded, “And when he gets here, there is no god nor greater power that will stop him from rooting me out, street by street. I’ll be as good as dead. He will come south to Fordain with his company.”

  “So there’s a deadline and you need a way to get out of here before then.”

  She nodded again, “Hence the lack of sleep.”

  “She insisted that it was more important.” Velandus’ voice trailed in.

  “I see it as being more beneficial in the long term to my health, old man. I can sleep for weeks when this is over.” She yawned, “I probably will.”

  “So you do have a plan, then.”

  “I have the framework for one, yes. And it involves getting each of the factors interested in my demise looking in the wrong direction at the right time so we can slip away.” She began ticking them off on her fingers, “That means the Talradians, the Watch, the Company’s bounty hunters, and the guards searching anyone exiting to the north.”

  “So it is north, then. Won’t that put you on a collision course with this Demon Hunter?”

  “Yes, but I don’t have much of a choice. I told you, it’s north or south, and the south is too heavily guarded because they know it’s my preferred choice. They won’t be as prepared for me to ride north.”

  “Because it’s not a smart idea,” Velandus said, briefly sticking his head in. The cart had already begun moving. “They don’t expect you to go there because they expect you to be smarter.”

  She reached forward and shoved his head back out. “Please keep your eyes on the road if you don’t have anything constructive to say.”

  Danadrian chuckled a little at their banter, though in truth he had the same reservations, but he chose not to voice them right that moment, “So how do you plan to deal with all four of these forces out to get you?”

  She smirked, “Well, you already helped me deal with one. The Watch is now certain that I am either in the Eastside district or will strike there again. They’re practically locking the entire area down.”

  “What about the road guards?”

  She stuck a thumb back, “Velandus is persuasive. He’ll just convince them he’s carrying contraband or illegal cargo and bribe them to let him pass. It’s common procedure-”

  He heard grumbling from behind the tarp.

  “-even if he doesn’t like it. But anyway, those are the easiest to deal with. The last two are going to be tricky.”

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  He nodded, “The Company and the Talradians.”

  “One being fuelled by bloodlust, the other by avarice. That’s where I’m going to have to ask for your help.”

  He leaned back against the cart and folded his arms, “With the Company, I assume.”

  She inclined her head, “You need to lead them as far away from the north as possible; keep their eyes fixated on where I am not so I won’t be bumping into money-hungry adventurers. Obviously, that means somewhere in the south side of town, but I haven’t been able to figure out how.”

  Danadrian tapped his fingers against the wood, “Setting up a contract wouldn’t work, they’re all already too focused on the Talradian one. No offence, but I don’t think you have the gold to compete with.”

  She winced, “I’m experiencing a slow depletion of my savings.”

  “How do we get as many of them as possible to focus on one part of town in particular… I assume that you making an appearance is out of the question?”

  She shook her head, “If I do that now, it’ll all be for nought. I’ll never be able to get them all off my back.”

  He scrunched up his face in thought, then he blinked, “Oh, it’s me.”

  “Pardon?”

  He pointed at his chest, “I can lead them all south.”

  She frowned at him, “Not that I doubt you, but a lot of them are Carathiliar. How’d you think they’re gonna trust the word of a hithnadrr?”

  “I think they’ll be more open to trusting the only hithnadrr who knows what the Demon looks like. I just got attacked, you know, and I can certainly give them a sharper description than the Talradians did.”

  “That… might just work. You have some credibility to work with.” She gave him a long look, “But you’d be lying to quite a large group of people. Can you do that?”

  “I am an amazing liar.” He lied.

  Her expression didn’t change.

  “In the moment.” He lied again.

  Finally, she sighed, “It’s not great, but it’ll have to do. You’re sure you can do this?”

  He nodded, trying his best to exude confidence he didn’t have, “I will have the best chance of pulling it off out of the three of us. But, if I am not correct, you haven’t addressed the largest obstacle in your way.”

  “The Talradians.” Her face shifted to a glare. “They occupied most of my time, and I think I have finally come up with a solution.” She shifted herself as they rode over some bumpy ground, “Before they lost their kingdom, do you know what the fundamental role of the Talradians was, whether locally or abroad?” When he shook his head, she continued, “Spies. The Talradians are, on average, experts at subterfuge and reconnaissance. Do you know why?”

  He felt she was obviously spoon feeding him this conversation, but he gave it some thought nonetheless, “It might have been…” He snapped his fingers, “Their eyes.”

  “That’s right. While their ‘cousins’ in Moren can see for miles on end, they can see without any form of light as if it were the middle of the day. That makes them experts at urban and nighttime tracking. It’s part of their culture, really.”

  “Which is also why they’ve been on your tail constantly. How do you deal with that then?”

  She smirked, “By taking advantage of their one weakness. Manpower. I’ll spread them thin enough that I can do my disappearing act without interference.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out, to his astonishment, a pouch of gold. “It’s simple. I will go around renting rooms in inns and taverns all across town, completely undisguised. Now, of course, they’ll know that I’m trying to bait them, but I don’t think they can afford the chance, however small, that I’m not.” Her grin widened. “And there’s one more thing.”

  “Which is?”

  “I’m going to rent a room in every inn or tavern I can find, except for a general area near the western side of town. If the Talradians here are worth their salt, they’ll notice that and focus their attention there.”

  He rubbed his chin, “So it’s multiple levels of distractions then.”

  “Correct. That’s the plan, keep every group looking in the wrong direction while the horse outside pulls this cart as fast as it can.”

  “Right. And where will I meet you two?”

  She froze, in the process of taking a sip of water, and stared at him. “You want to come with us?”

  “Of course. What did you think I was going to do, stay here and get hit by a dozen arrows the next time I’m alone? If they want you dead, they’ll certainly wish the same for me if you get away.”

  “Well yes, but I assumed you’d make your own way out. Velandus told me you had some experience living in the wild-”

  “Alleria.” He gave her a long look, “What I told you yesterday was true. Even if I don’t know why, I made my choice by giving that document to you. I could have refused, but I didn’t. That means that, no matter what, I’ve committed myself to you two, for good or ill. Now, where will I be meeting you?”

  He could see her eyes jumping over him, maybe looking for the lie he wasn’t telling. If he were, he thought her estimations of him might increase greatly. Finally, she replied, “We can pause once we’re well out of town, if you can make it there fast enough by yourself. Hopefully, they won’t be focusing on you.”

  “Hopefully.” He rubbed his face and looked at her again, “Why the surprised face? Have you never had someone stick out their neck for you before?”

  She nodded again, “Once. And he’s sitting outside right now.”

  “Now that even I knew. Speaking of which.” He raised his voice, “Velandus, where are we right now? There is this small shop near the main road I want to look at, any chance you could take me there?”

  “Sure can do, if you remember which road it’s on.”

  After giving it to him, Danadrian looked back at Alleria, who was still staring at him.

  The correct word would be examining.

  “What?”

  “What do you need in some random shop?”

  He winced and felt at his all-too-light pouch of coins, “There is an object of great importance to me there, I wish to purchase. Though I will admit, the chances of it going successfully are a long shot.”

  The cart rolled on and on until eventually Velandus leaned back through the tarp and told him they’d arrived. He slipped out the back, preparing himself for failure. But at least he would’ve tried. Glancing at the glass storefront, where the golden scarf still lay, he knocked on the door. He walked in and was about to close it when he felt a presence walk in beside him.

  “What are you doing?” He muttered. Alleria just smirked and put a finger to her lips. He stifled a groan, not wanting to think how much of her own plan she might compromise by being outed now. Instead, he forced a jovial smile onto his face. The inside of the shop was rather bare, save for options of clothing and whatnot strewn around. Leaning against the front desk was a portly little man who, despite the time, barely seemed able to keep his eyes open.

  He certainly holds himself with decorum.

  Danadrian cleared his throat, “Excuse me.”

  The man looked up in a daze and shook his head, “Ah, hello. I mean, good morning… sirs.”

  Sirs?

  He glanced at Alleria, who had pulled her already short hair beneath her hat. In addition to that, her hand was lazily placed on her hip, and her back was hunched, bringing her height closer to the man in front of them.

  “Right. I am interested in buying the scarf you have on display outside.”

  “Ah, why of course, sir. It’s made of high-quality stuff, you know, the best I can offer.”

  “Right…” He coughed, “How much would you be willing to settle on for it?”

  The storeowner flexed his fingers, fully awake now, it seemed, “Well, that’s the question, isn’t it? What say you to… one decimara and fifteen selivara?”

  “Fifteen- the sign says it’s one decimara only.”

  “Ah, but of course sir, that is only a starting price, yes? I’m always open to negotiating, but I do have to make a living here.”

  He was getting flustered, and he knew it. “Listen, more than a decimara is far too much. Frankly, a single gold coin is more than I-”

  A hand rested on his shoulder, and he paused. Alleria strode forward, having been otherwise ignored throughout the conversation, and promptly slammed her hand against the desk.

  Both Danadrian and the storeowner jumped, but she didn’t seem to care. When she spoke, he could hear her voice had dropped several octaves, “Listen, we’re just looking to buy that piece of yellow cloth out front. Now, can we skip the boring negotiations and agree on a price?”

  He spluttered, “Yellow? Why, that cloth is made of the finest golden yarn in town. I imported it straight from Floraine just this Narturia.”

  “Right, that one. Now we’ve got twenty Selivara that we’re willing to part with. How about it?”

  He continued to splutter, his face gaining a slight red tinge, “I- twenty? I am already selling it far below its price. It could be worth at two decimara, at least fifty silver selivara.”

  Two gold Decimara!? That’s double the price advertised.

  Alleria just snorted, “Right, and I’m Moren royalty. That thing’s probably not worth a copper over twenty-five.”

  “How dare you. It is the finest cloth this town has ever seen.”

  “If it’s so bloody good, then how come no one’s bought it yet? You don’t exactly seem to be rolling in customers? Where’s all your stock?” She indicated the rather empty shop.

  The man huffed, “All sold out, I’m afraid. Proper Carathiliar know quality when they see it.”

  “Naturally. So, twenty-seven selivara? I’ll throw in a couple copper so we can call it quits.”

  “Absolutely not!” He practically shouted, “That will be fifty Selivara, sir.”

  Danadrian felt a hand nudge him and saw, out of view of the storeowner, Alleria hand him one gold coin and point at him. When he looked back up, she hadn’t even looked at him.

  He took it and cleared his throat, “Excuse me, I see you and my companion have come to an impasse. May I offer, instead, one decimara for the product?”

  The Carathiliarian man’s glare turned to him, “That will be fifty Selivara, sir.” He repeated.

  Alleria leaned back in, “Nobody else is going to buy it anyway.”

  He cleared his throat and made a show of pushing her aside, which she begrudgingly did. Then he leaned closer to the portly man and shook his head, “I apologise, sh-he can often be a bit too blunt when it comes to these matters. Now, he won’t leave peacefully if we spend more than one gold coin on the scarf, and trust me, he can get quite uncontrollable when he wants to.”

  The grey-faced man paled a little.

  “However, I believe we can come to an agreement. How about I give you this gold coin, and I tell everyone who asks where it came from. You’ll get more customers, we’ll get what we came for, and you’ll be one gold coin richer. What say you to that?”

  It was the best he had, and in any other situation, it likely wouldn’t have worked. But Alleria, taking the role of the uncontrollable and abrasive youth, and thereby making him the more reasonable and personable of the two, had set things up perfectly.

  His scowl didn’t fade, but eventually he snapped, “Fine. One decimara. And I shan’t say it was a pleasure doing business with you both.”

  He placed the gold coin on the table and bowed his head respectfully. Then, after taking the scarf from the display, he guided Alleria to the exit, with her kicking and screaming about how they’d be ‘cheated’ until they pulled themselves into the back of the cart.

  Both exhaled as Velandus nudged the horse into a trot. He peeked back in at the two of them, “Had some fun in there, did we?”

  He just rubbed his eyes. “We still paid a whole gold coin for it.”

  “He was going to overcharge you anyway.” She responded, pulling her hair out from beneath the hat and sitting up a bit, “That price he put out there was a complete fake made to reel you in.”

  “You were quite good in there.” He replied, “How much of that was you and how much did you copy from him?”

  “Mostly him, to be honest. Which means he probably knows he got beaten. Poor guy.” She smirked and didn’t exactly sound remorseful. “Why did you want that anyway?”

  He looked down at the golden scarf, rubbing his hands over it. It was light and smooth to the touch. The fabric glistened and shimmered as stray rays of light glanced off it.

  “Gold is symbolic of Mayare, and the Light. I’ve been saving up to try and buy it.” He looked up at her, “Sorry, I don’t have enough to pay you back just yet.”

  She shook her head, “Consider it a gift, one that you’ve definitely earned.”

  I have hardly earned the right to claim this as my own.

  He tried to banish those words from his mind.

  “Thank you. I will treasure it.” He gripped it with his arms and closed his eyes.

  “What are you doing?”

  “A prayer to the Gods, for good fortune in tomorrow’s endeavours.” He opened one of his eyes, “And though it pains me to say it, you may want to beseech your own God, in whatever way Demons do worship.” He thought he heard a chuckle from outside.

  Her lips quivered in a small smile, “It depends on the religion, but those who worship Slathir will pray at dinner, with an extra plate of food left out. After they pray, the extra food will have vanished, supposedly eaten by him.”

  “We can find you some food if you want.”

  She shook her head, “There’s no need. I don’t worship Slathir, or any god for that matter, though my- my mother tried to instil it into me.”

  Not a Derumani worshipper.

  He silenced that part of his head.

  “If it isn’t too personal… why not? The Gods are there to guide us, be beacons of virtue or strength that we may only aspire to be. Surely there is something in Slathir, or any other God or Goddess, that you see as worthy of faith and praise.” That last bit had hurt him a little to say.

  She just shook her head again, “Maybe that is what they look like to you. But to me, I only see…” She trailed off.

  He waited a few more seconds, but when it was clear she wasn’t going to continue talking, he just sighed and closed his eyes again. Feeling the soft fabric in his hands and the stray beams of light touching his skin, he whispered.

  “Chalador, God and Tender of the flame, I pray you heed my words. Bring us good fortune and strength for what must be done, so that fire and steel are all that will await those who stand in the path of the chosen. See me now, as an Angelica of Mayare, as I do her work for the good of all.” He let out a soft breath, “So bless it be.”