Chapter 1: She Who Holds the Torch

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       Rienna stood on the bare expanse of an enormous stone balcony protruding from Merschenez Castle, a buoyant smile lighting her peaceful face.  She allowed herself this moment of inaction. Her strong, small hands gripped the rail as she ever so slightly leaned towards the endless blue ocean below and before her, breathing deeply the smell of salt and sea. The plain blue dress she wore whipped at her calves mercilessly but it went unnoticed. Her waist-length chestnut hair lashed at her sun-kissed skin, but again she paid it no mind. All she was aware of was the throbbing, over-spilling liquid happiness of her heart that shone in her smoky grey eyes. Today, she would marry her childhood sweetheart...

       Rienna met Belias when she was barely ten years old. She watched her father, Canis, train his soldiers at the barracks of Merschenez Castle, in the kingdom of Ersenais. Ever since she could remember it had only been her father and herself, her mother having died before she could remember her face. Anyone could tell that Rienna was the spitting image of her mother increasingly with each passing day. However, the similarities ended there.

       Having been raised by the King’s Commander of the Royal Army, she became enamored with the art of war. Rienna’s father had indeed tried to appoint his daughter with a proper governess but his clever daughter always managed to slip away and follow his Captain, Redric, around like a lost puppy. Canis, unable to comprehend how to raise a young lady, was secretly overwhelmed with relief that his little daughter shared his passion and took it upon himself to have her trained; secretly, of course, for most would frown upon such things. The secret didn’t last very long; it was apparent that Rienna was awkward as a lady and took every opportunity to dress as a warrior. Belias was a young soldier of her father’s and though he trained with Redric for 3 years it wasn’t until Belias’s promotion into higher ranks that Rienna truly noticed Belias, a soft-spoken boy of thirteen years. She had seethed with jealousy that Canis and Redric had so much pride in that strange boy. It just wasn’t enough to be the apple of their eye simply because of who she was; Rienna wanted the respect befitting a warrior.

       As a boy, Belias had been considered weak and soft. At ten years of age, his features were frail and angelic; sunny blonde hair and such pale blue eyes. He would watch out of the window at the other boys in the orphanage who played in the sun all day. He was short and wiry, an endless target of bullying. He only fueled their desire to abuse him with his unfailing kindness, which was seen as a weakness. However, Belias was unnervingly clever and his ability to retaliate with a cool smile and an unbreakable strategy assured his survival. It had been those qualities that caught Canis’s eye and it took very little persuasion to convince Belias to train his body to match his mind. Within three years of relentless training, he caught up to other boys in height, his wiry limbs grew firm with lean muscle and darkened in the sun. His skills had become so unrivalled that none could deny that only his young age prevented him from being Redric’s second in command. Despite his unmatched skill, Belias remained kind and grew cleverer with each day.

       And so, on the day Rienna finally challenged Belias in single combat, they truly seemed ill matched for an ordinary relationship. A cocky, headstrong girl Rienna was and she took it upon herself to bring challenge to Belias, foolish if she were thinking straight, for the boy was so prized by her father. Surely he was just a boy of brute strength to be so favored. One particularly warm spring day fueled the girl’s resolve that her speed could prevail over his strength. As he sat by a gentle creek sharpening his beloved bastard sword, Triumph, she drew up her posture, indignant that he dared to grace one of her favorite hiding spots and drew her epee, pointing it at him in challenge. As persuasive as he could be, he had not been able to refuse. Belias had tried holding back but had been rewarded with a couple shallow slashes and once the battle heated, neither was willing to humor the other. It was only due to pure exhaustion that the challenge ended with Belias surrendering. Plus, he could hardly allow himself to bring harm to the daughter of the man who had rescued him from a struggling existence. Belias was disinterested in (but unfailingly kind to) the bossy, sharp-tongued girl and Rienna ... well, Rienna didn’t much care for anyone who dared to take her father’s attention from her.

       Rienna laughed out loud at that memory. If not for that rainy night on her fourteenth birthday and Belias rescuing her from drowning in the rapids of Lesthene River, she might never have truly seen his kindness for what it really was. Both days she remembered now quite clearly: the day she first challenged Belias and the day she realized she loved him.

       And now she stood on that balcony, a nineteen-year-old young woman on the day of her wedding. It wouldn’t be long now until she would be called in to be adorned in that draping ethereal gown that she would wear for Belias alone. She didn’t normally wear dresses, preferring the clothes befitting the title of a woman warrior, but today was so very different. Today, she was walking down that aisle to be his woman alone. That didn’t mean she would ever stop being a warrior, a woman worth her own salt. She could belong to herself and still belong to another. The dress was only symbolic of their union. She wouldn’t let Belias forget that.

       “Miss Rienna, it is time!” Rozalyn, the princess’s own handmaiden, exclaimed to her in that bubbly way most women do when they are excited. Rienna smiled at that. Because of her father’s status, Rienna’s wedding day was fit for the princess herself.

       With a quiet nod and a little smile, Rienna folded her hands in front of her and demurely walked in towards Rozalyn. Apparently, not fast enough for Rozalyn who pranced over to her and forced her, quite clumsily and hurriedly, into the dressing room. In a flurry of fussiness, Rienna watched the whirlwind of maids, slipping on the dress with reverence, tugging at her hair, delicately applying a light mask of cosmetics, pinning a bit of flowers to her dress, dusting her skin with a translucent glittering powder. Rienna stood in disbelief as the maids hurried out wordlessly, tittering with glee for Rienna. It unnerved her that fashion could have the frenzy of battle.   The dress made her look like a fairy princess, perfect and surreal. The pearly white fabric, prismatic with subtle pastel hues, clung to her form at the bodice and ballooned magnificently from the hips, a sweeping array of silken wonder. Golden borders were expertly woven into the dress and the pearly pink shimmering flowers pinned to her gown were the perfect touch. She was not yet done looking at her reflection with awe when Rozalyn returned, a prim smile on her round little face.

       “It seems we weren’t a moment too soon, miss,” Rozalyn softly spoke, wiping a single tear from her own cheek. “They are asking for the bride...”

       The hall where everyone waited was no less impressive. Though there were columns and short walls marking the egg-shaped enormous hall, there was no roof but for a clever draping of fabrics to mark the occasion. Nearly a thousand people now sat in that hall quite comfortably. The hard lump that formed in Rienna’s throat immediately disappeared when she saw Belias waiting at the end of the aisle, that soft secret smile on his handsome face. Gods, how she had wanted to wipe that smile off his face once before she was privy to the secrets behind it. He was dressed as a high-ranking soldier, gleaming silver and creamy satin cloaked, he looked like a young hero god. In fact, since he was now a twenty-two-year-old man, he was ranked only below the King himself and Canis; Redric had died a warrior’s death, two years prior and, oh, how Rienna wished he could have been here today. She tore her eyes away from Belias only for a second to smile sweetly at her father, who took her arm to escort her to the man who would very soon be her husband. It took every ounce of will in her body not to simply charge down the aisle and into Belias’s arms. The little flower girl walked just ahead of her, spreading the same pink petals of the flowers pinned to her dress. Not taking her eyes from Belias, she gently squeezed her father’s arm as joyous tears slipped from her eyes. She allowed herself this woman’s weakness with awe, for tears of joy were a first for her.

       The walk seemed to take an eternity, a floating surreal tunnel of constant humming in her head, and when she finally reached the place where Belias stood, she was awash with relief and smiled lovingly at him through her veil. She barely heard the words that were already engraved on her heart and when the time came to exchange rings, she could barely keep her feet; Belias’s most impersonal touch always melted her like this, so this special touch was nearly more than she could take. She heard the words “husband and wife” and flew into Belias’s arms, amid a thunderous cheer from the crowd, to share her first full kiss with the man that was now her husband. It was an explosive, deep, and shameless kiss of longing and love. Explosive, yes... The loud bang and the sudden shrieking of frightened people, scattering wildly in every direction to escape, reaffirmed it. Rienna was stupefied into inaction. Shrieking? No, not in terror, surely!

       Belias pushed her back and gripped her arms tightly, gazing deeply into her eyes with firm resolution. “Stay here, Rienna. I’ll be back,” Belias commanded gently. He turned to join the soldiers that fled toward the unknown enemy, but stopped to look back at her, a gentle smile warming his face again. “I love you, Rienna.”

       Rienna was in such shock that she could not speak. She watched mutely as Belias turned to run across the hall, only able to reach her hand towards him weakly. Her inability to move stunned and confused her. An enormous machine broke through the wall with ease, a robotic monstrosity on legs, shielding its passenger. Rienna watched in horror as the soldiers and attendees alike were torn like paper, thrown about like boneless dolls. Her eyes moved and froze on Belias. He stood there, poised to strike but knowing the futility, as the machination turned towards him. Before her eyes, a single pulsing magic bullet emitted from the gun of that horrid thing ... and pierced through Belias’s chest. He crumpled to the floor, already dead.

       It was then that Rienna’s body finally started to work. Rienna was full of such rage, despair and horror as her limbs gathered purchase. She was sure that she had been spelled into temporary paralysis, a spell that only broke with the unknown magician’s death. With a bloodcurdling war cry, she charged towards Belias’s lifeless form, tearing madly at her dress to get to him faster. She fell beside his body and clutched at his shoulders, unable to stomach the truth, grabbing ineffectively for a weapon that she did not carry today. The machine simply stood there. She wiped at the streams of tears on her cheeks that she hadn’t noticed until then and looked up into the cockpit ... and there she saw, to her disbelief, Melchior.

       Melchior, her father’s own soldier who left to find a piece of his past. Melchior, Belias’s own best friend... He grinned coldly down at her, no sign of a friend in those eyes, then moved the machine swiftly out of the ruined hall and into the sky.

       There was no sound in Rienna’s world but for her own anguished scream.

 

       A hand gently rested on Rienna’s shoulder, some unknown time later. She swatted at it as she clung to Belias’s cold body, but the hand was gentle and persistent. She looked up to see Seije, the man who had ranked just below her now-dead husband, some title she didn’t care to remember. He kneeled beside her reverently and stayed there for a long time without speaking.

       Finally, he said, “Rienna, do you want the ring?”

       Rienna’s eyes locked onto his lifelessly, her thumb sweeping side to side over the ring on Belias’s cooling corpse. Some part of her whispered that Seije was trying to ground her back to reality. Sound was coming back to her gradually, sluggish and hollow like inside a tin can. “No, he is still my husband, Seije. Let it stay with him,” she whispered hoarsely.

       Numbly, Rienna’s hands reached for the dagger in Belias’s belt, a weapon she hadn’t remembered in the primal rage and blindness of her grief, when only her fingers feeling for cold steel were active. It was a miniature version of his beloved Triumph, the matching set forged from the same steel and given as a gift from her father. Seije looked nervous as she drew it out of its sheathe. Her eyes slid slowly to meet Seije’s.

       “It was Melchior who did this, Seije. I saw him. Now I will use this dagger” -- Rienna jammed the dagger back into its sheathe-- “to cut out that bastard’s heart.  He should’ve stayed dead.”

       Seije watched as Rienna staggered to her feet and wandered out of the hall, the wails and moans never reaching her ears as the remaining soldiers struggled to clean up the massacre. He followed her closely with hesitation and concern. Finally, Rienna halted her steps again and stared down at another body for several long seconds. The tears ached to fall again but did not fall. She could cry no more. She bent down beside the body of her father and took the long sword from his hand, unbuckling the sheathe and reverently stowing the blade away. She slung the strap across the front of her body; Melchior would taste the cold kiss of Justice as well. Seije’s lip trembled in horror as their eyes found the same body now. It was the King.

       Rienna turned to Seije again, grief contorting her face to rage and then cold hard pain.

       “Looks like you’re in charge now, Seije. Take care of Ersenais while I’m gone, okay? I’ll tear down the entire Vieres continent if I have to. Cross the oceans if that’s what it takes,” Rienna said, emotion leaving her face completely as she trudged in a direction away from all she had known. Away from the body of Belias. Away from the body of her father and his King.

 

       She was already approaching the King’s Market, having walked a couple of hours aimlessly, when she heard a thundering of hooves and a familiar voice calling out “Rienna! Wait!”

       She turned rigidly and saw it was Seije approaching on his horse.

       “It was stupid of me to leave you to go without a plan, Rienna, but please hear me out. You cannot face that man alone,” Seije pleaded with her to see reason, sliding down off of the horse. “Take this horse. If you ride hard to the south until dusk, you can reach Neibelung City. There’s a tavern there called Haveshing Mark. You need to find a man named Krose there. He can track anyone and anything. Will you promise to do this, Rienna?”

       Rienna’s dead expression stabbed at his heart.

       “I can promise nothing anymore, Seije. But I will do as you ask,” Rienna stated coldly, mounting the horse with practiced ease. She looked down at Seije one last time. “I may not return here again, so take care of yourself.”

       Seije watched Rienna spur the horse into a gallop and ride south. Her words stung at him. Rienna had on this day lost all the family she had ever known. Silently, he said a prayer, hoping she would live a long life ... and someday start a family of her own. Was that hoping too much?

       Yet as the thundering of the hooves increased, so too did the pounding of Rienna’s heart. And only one thing echoed in her mind now.

       Melchior...

 

 

Chapter 2: A Thief and a Rabbit

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       Neibelung City was a marvel of modern technology, an enormous futuristic city full of sleek machines and crowds of strangely dressed people. Nonetheless, Rienna stood out immediately. A woman in a ruined wedding dress streaked in mud and blood, carrying sword and dagger, will never blend in anywhere you will ever go.

       So there she stood, in the heart of the city, and though it was dusk, in this place the bright glow of lights made it seem like midday. Rienna had stopped to ask where this Haveshing Mark place was and from the way she was answered, she was guessing that it was located in a not-so-bright part of the city. She couldn’t help but smirk. Seije had never been the sort to treat her with kid gloves just because she was the Commander’s precious daughter.

       So she mounted again the tired horse she got there on and steered it on towards the dark district. As she plodded on, the modern lights gradually gave way to lantern-lit streets of partial neglect and buildings erected long before its oldest citizens were alive to witness it. The bustle of the bright, steely city slowed to a trickle of nervous passersby and the occasional uninhibited drunk. If not for the pace of the exhausted horse, she could have easily missed the small, crooked sign proclaiming her arrival at Haveshing Mark.

       Rienna dismounted from the horse, tying it up to the beaten wooden post outside, knowing full well that there was a distinct possibility that the horse would not be there when she returned but not really caring. She looked up once again at the sign before entering the tavern.

       It apparently wasn’t a very popular tavern as the patrons were relatively quiet, all seedy-looking strong men covered in scars, tattoos, and/or liquor. All eyes were drawn to her immediately, if only for a moment. Some men smirked with interest; others couldn’t care less and turned back to their drinks or card games. Rienna kept her eyes locked on the bartender as she approached and slid onto a wobbly stool.

       The bartender did the very best bartender move he could do: he began to wipe at the bar with a rag and followed it with, “Rough day, I take it. Can I get you anything?”

       “Whatever’s on tap is fine,” Rienna said with disinterest. She sat on the barstool with her hands in her lap and legs crossed at the ankles, back straight.  Her father might have thought her etiquette classes had paid off. In reality, she had only been trying not to lean on the sticky bar but it did nothing to help her blend in, sitting so prim and patient.

       The bartender nodded in compliance and pushed a questionably clean mug under the tap, setting the foamy brew in front of her. She picked up the glass and drank half of it at once, setting it down and wiping her mouth with the sleeve of the dress that now held no meaning. The bartender watched her with cool curiosity, knowing with that intuition his vocation developed in him that the lady had more to say.

       “I didn’t just come here for drink,” Rienna stated plainly.

       This time the bartender smirked.

       “I gathered that. The beer here is no better than anywhere else and I’m sure that one could find a much better bar with little problem,” he offered back, fighting not to grin.

       “I’m looking for someone. A man named Krose,” Rienna quickly asserted. It did not escape her attention that several heads turned at the name. Again, though, she did not care.

       The bartender seemed wary of her suddenly and again wiped at the bar he had already cleaned to avoid her gaze.

       “I’ve heard the name. What business do you have with him?” the bartender carefully asked.

       “A friend of mine by the name of Seije sent me here. He told me the man I seek would be here,” Rienna said with undertones of authority, warning him not to play games with her now.

       Without her knowing, a young man stood behind her, smiling only with his mouth, his forest green eyes unamused. Suddenly, she caught the quick flick of the bartender’s eyes behind her and she swung around with her fist. The quick young man caught her arm but didn’t quite expect the fight to continue. Her knee swung into his stomach as she leapt to her feet, thrusting him onto a rickety table. The table’s legs gave way and he crashed to the floor with it. With rapid instinct she stood over him and pressed her foot into his collarbone firmly, staring hard and cold at the man. The man laughed bitterly, a bit embarrassed by his predicament, amidst the whistles and enthusiastic yells of the rowdy bar patrons.

       He spoke with difficulty. “So why would my brother send such a lovely vixen after me, eh?” the man choked out, grinning despite the pain. ‘Lovely vixen’ sounded like a quick improvisation for ‘insane bride.’ Or another b-word altogether.

       “Your brother...” Rienna repeated slowly, not quite following the enigmatic turn the simple words were taking in her brain. She hadn’t thought much about who Seije would be sending her to meet, but it certainly made more sense.  Maybe it hadn’t been her best idea to stumble into this scheme so one-track minded.  There was still too much she couldn’t bear thinking about and she shook those thoughts away.

       “Seije. He didn’t tell you I’m his brother? It wounds me so,” he replied with mock hurt. All the more awkward for the actual pain he was in.

       “You’re Krose, then?” she asked suspiciously.

       “That I am. Mind removing the foot?” Krose pleaded around choked words. Rienna granted his request. She offered her hand and helped Krose. He brushed at his clothes, smirking at the picture this girl made.

       Rienna studied him carefully now, taking inventory of a man who looked nothing like any brother she could picture Seije having. Krose was wiry and short, for one, head to toe in forest green like some house elf. He wore tight fitting pants without pockets and a torn tunic that ended where his legs began. A lopsided carry-all belt hung about his waist with tiny satchels adorning it. His brown leather boots reached up to his knees and he wore fingerless gloves in the same color. About his neck was a plain silver chain, a strange silver symbol dangling from it and matching loops threading the tops of his ears. His hair was a shade of brown so strange it appeared to look purplish in the light and the hair at the front swept randomly over his eyes, the hair in back standing back and up at a bit of an angle. He looked every bit the brash young thief. He crossed his arms and tapped his foot with amusement, as she scrutinized him with cool observation.

       “This is a joke, right? You can’t possibly help me,” Rienna cruelly taunted.

       Krose took no offense to this and held out his arms, still grinning.

       “You’ll have to fill me in, miss. I’m not a mind reader,” Krose laughed.

       Rienna started to head out of the bar. Krose frowned and chased after her. As she predicted, the horse was long gone.

       “Look, miss, I’m sure I could help you if Seije thinks I can, but you’ll have to tell me more,” Krose pleaded, his curiosity driving him crazy.

       Rienna spun around violently and her look chilled him to the core.    

       “Stop calling me miss. My name is Rienna. Today, I became bride then widow and orphan and I need to find the man who did this and make him pay!” Rienna seethed through gritted teeth, an edge of desperation in her voice.

       Krose looked thoroughly shocked then frowned darkly. This kind of thing he was always a sucker for. Anyone who knew him would know he could not turn down a job like this.

       “So you need a tracker, someone who knows the ins and outs of the land,” Krose quietly asserted, nodding resolutely. “You’ve got it, Rienna. But it’s not so simple.”

       Rienna started to walk away.

       “Either you can help me or you can’t,” she tossed back at him. Krose ran in front of her, blocking her progress.

       “I can. But I need your help too. Call it an advance in payment for my help. You see, I just found out that a slave trader is holding a dear friend of mine and I need to get him out,” Krose shrugged helplessly. “I can sneak in anywhere and find anything, but I’m no warrior like you, Miss Rienna. I’d end up dead or captured myself, you see. So if you can help me break him out of Scryshaw Caverns, I’ll help you find the bastard that killed your loved ones. It’s not even out of your way-- we have to pass there anyway.”

       Rienna raised her hand to her chin as she always did when she needed to think. Her eyes met Krose’s finally.

       “Very well, Krose. I’ll help your friend. It is fair enough payment for what I ask,” Rienna finally gave in. In truth, she needed something to keep her busy.  She wasn’t quite ready to slow down and face the hard truths.

       Rienna and Krose awoke early the next morning in an abandoned barn just outside of Neibelung City’s rural outskirts. Not far from this place were the natural caverns of Scryshaw, where his friend was being held. Normally, you would infiltrate a place at night but Krose had assured her that daytime would give them the greater advantage.

       Rienna had heard the infamous story of that place; she heard how the slave traders sold the elusive ‘animal-men’ they captured there. She wondered if Krose’s friend Dinsch was one of the so-called rabbit-men. Rabbit-men, properly named Bryfolk, were hybrids of rabbits and humans created over 200 years ago in human-animal hybridization experiments. Because of their mind-boggling agility, awe-inspiring jumping ability, and overall amazing leg strength, those labs could not hold their experimental subjects in and droves of them escaped. Eventually, they integrated into societies. But the Bryfolk were not the only ones of their kind. There were hybrids of birds, foxes, and big cats that also found their freedom and blended into human society. Tending to favor living among their own kind or with small groups of open-minded humans, Rienna had unfortunately never met any in her life. They avoided the capital city and all the larger cities and Rienna’s knowledge of the world was thus far limited to such places.

       Krose stretched his limbs carefully, his face far away with serious thought. Rienna hesitated for a moment.

       “Krose...” she started.

       “Uh, yeah?” Krose urged her to continue.

       “This friend of yours, Dinsch ... is he...?” Rienna stopped, unsure of how to continue the question.

       Krose grinned kindly and nodded in anticipation.

       “He’s one of the Bryfolk. You’ve never met any of the Folk, have you?” Krose guessed correctly.

       Rienna shook her head, unable to voice anything suddenly. Despite Ersenais being the center of Vieres, Folk were not a common sight there either.  The Bryfolk especially tended to shy away from big cities in favor of quiet burrows, the birdmen liked mountain peaks, the foxes were the most elusive of all on Vieres and the big cat Folk nearly unheard of, having moved on to their own continent in the east. Krose relaxed visibly when he saw her genuine curiosity.

       “All the Folk are kind of shy to society. They are both proud and self-conscious, you know? They know they shouldn’t have been made but also believe that they belong nonetheless. Rightly so. All the folk alive today are natural-born, you see. The Reishefolk, the bird Folk, are a sight to see. They lay eggs as birds do and the hatching-birth is one of the most beautiful things you’ll ever see,” Krose was visibly proud of this knowledge and smiled. “Perhaps after we get this villain of yours, I could take you to see them.”

       Rienna nodded distantly.

       “Perhaps...” she said softly and left it at that. Without another word, Rienna opened the barn door, squinting against the sunlight and headed off towards the formidable dark masses that were the Scryshaw Caverns.

       Rienna and Krose were crouched behind a currently unused slave wagon, watching the traffic of the huge dark-skinned ogres, ugly gray hulks that usually kept to themselves, loading the poor Folk into vehicles to be sold away. Krose looked nervously at Rienna.

       “You sure about this, Rienna? These guys look like they can take on a charging elephant,” Krose whispered shakily.

       Rienna fought the urge to laugh at that. They didn’t look too far from elephants themselves.

       “I could take on ten charging elephants. I might look like a woman, but I’ve the heart and skill of a warrior,” Rienna assured him softly. However, she had to swallow past a lump forming in her throat. She did have that warrior’s tendency to overestimate herself on occasion but her matching ego wasn’t about to admit that aloud.

       Rienna had stopped on the way there to rid herself of the dress in favor of the garb of a lady warrior, but her finger still wore the symbol of her love for Belias. Krose looked at that finger now as if seeing it for the first time but kept the sorrow he felt for her masked; wisely so, for it would do neither of them any good now for Rienna to lose her head.

       “All right, Krose, now’s the time to prove your usefulness. How do we get in there? I might be confident, but only a fool would fight more than needed,” Rienna supplied, adrenaline surging in her veins now.

       Krose nodded in full agreement and gestured to a dip high up in the rock face.

       “That opening up there leads into a guard’s lounge. If we can scale the wall unnoticed and slip into that room now, that’s our best chance. Most of the guards are helping with the loading so we stand a good chance of making it in. After that, we’ve only to get through each chamber until we reach the one I think Dinsch should be in,” Krose offered.

       “The one you THINK he’ll be in?” Rienna questioned unhappily.

       Krose nodded, oblivious to her dismay.

       “Yeah, the one they keep the Bryfolk in,” Krose replied, shaking his head with dismay of his own. “That’s supposing the bastards haven’t killed him or shipped him away yet.”

Rienna’s eyes narrowed.

       “And what of the others? Will we free no one else?” Rienna cruelly asked.

       Krose had the good sense to show anguish at that.

       “And just how do you propose we just slip out with an army of scared Folk? Sure, there are some warriors in the bunch, but most of them are just scared women and children,” Krose stopped to moan quietly in despair. “We’ll be lucky to reach the chambers at all and even luckier if we manage to get out again. It’s bloody impossible to hope for more than that.”

       “Maybe not; either way, we would have to free whoever he is locked up with so why not just free as many of them as we can?” Rienna hissed softly. She grabbed a brown bag from the slave wagon and smirked with secret knowledge at Krose. “I’ve got a way with pressing odds in my favor.”

       Without another word, Rienna waited for the right moment then rushed quickly to the copse of trees just below the opening in the rock face. Krose took a deep breath then followed suit.

       Rienna grabbed a grappling hook from her new leather bag and expertly threw it up the wall. The hook grabbed and anchored to the opening soundlessly. Rienna sighed with relief and Krose looked at her curiously.

       “See? Luck is on our side after all. I’ve never had much luck with grappling hooks,” Rienna said with a sly smile, laughing at the look of stupefaction on Krose’s face. Rienna was up the rope in a matter of seconds and Krose, not to be outdone, did so as well. Lucky for them, the room was empty and they slipped in so far unnoticed.

       Rienna reeled in the rope and nodded with satisfaction at Krose.

       “So far, so good, right?” Rienna said, the ease of the mission now draining from her face. Krose had seen that look before. Adrenaline was honing her senses; this was the look of a warrior charging into battle.

       Voices on the other side of the door brought them both to attention. Without a single thought, Rienna charged for the door and dove, hitting the lock mechanism and sliding her body against the wall out of view of the glass windowpane. She looked to see that Krose had done the same on the other side of the door. They heard the men laughing now as one tried the door twice. The gruff, snarling voice became angry.

       “Damn that stupid boy, he went and locked the damned door again! When we find that little son of a bitch, I’m gonna wring his neck!” the voice said, slightly muffled by the door. Krose and Rienna sighed their relief as they heard the footsteps pounding, fading away gradually.  Krose braved a quick look then nodded and smiled at Rienna.

       “Looks like I was right about bringing you. I’ll lead the way from here on,” Krose said, winking at her with respect.

       Rienna nodded as Krose unlocked the door and they slipped out to sneak down the hallways of the natural stone labyrinth. The hallways lead down into the earth and the further down they went, the damper and warmer it became, the dark black rocks weeping and dripping. If by chance they came upon guards, Krose either took them by surprise or he allowed Rienna to awe him with her deadly sword technique when they faced the brutes head-on. After an hour or so, they reached an enormous antechamber that housed several hollowed caves holding in caged prisoners. And it looked like there was no freeing one without the others, after all.

       It was Rienna’s turn to be completely awestruck. She marveled at the beauty of these hybrid humans. They were ALL magnificent, not a single flaw in their form but for the occasional nasty scar or the buildup of dirt from days, even months, without water to bathe in or decent food. Suddenly her heart was fueled with anger. Krose must have sensed that and kept his hand on her shoulder. About twenty of the lumbering giants filled the antechamber, laughing and abusing the poor Folk. Children cried and mothers wailed. Krose’s eyes filled with tears and in his heart, he knew he could not leave these Folk to this fate. He would die here if need be. His eyes met Rienna’s and he knew then that the feeling was mutual.

       Without warning, Rienna leapt onto the back of one of the tormenters and slain him easily, killing four more before the others could even gather their wits and attack. Krose gathered himself in a stance and leapt out to fight as well. Only a few men remained when Krose was struck through the shoulder with a sword. Rienna turned to see that and rage filled her, her battle aura seemed almost visible as she struck down the rest of the men and rushed to kneel beside Krose.

       “Krose! Are you okay?” Rienna gasped out, keeping her eyes watchful.

       Krose nodded weakly and struggled to his feet, Rienna assisting him. Tearing a strip from the bottom of his shirt, he tied off the steady flow of blood and smiled shakily at Rienna.

       “You think this’ll stop me? I’ve survived worse,” Krose said, grinning at her. His face became serious rather quickly. “Tell me there’s a way we can free all of them.”

       This time, Rienna smiled. It had not escaped her notice that a bit of light and air emitted from the far wall of the cave.

       “We can. We might need your friend’s help if he’s here. We have to get them not to flee right away once we open the cages. Tell them to stand against that back wall until I’m done,” Rienna said with conviction as she dug through the brown bag she had lifted earlier to see what she was working with. Krose was immediately in action.

       “Listen, Folk, we come here as friends!” Krose explained to the nearest bunch, the details spreading through the crowd like wildfire. “If you listen to me, we can all leave here alive. My friend has a plan but you must follow it or we’ll all be in danger! When I open your cages, you must stand against the back wall of this chamber. Please trust in us and we will not fail you! Will you believe in us to save you?”

       But the Folk were reluctant to trust and they were mostly met with grunts of distrust and sobs of fragile hope. A new voice spoke up now.

       “It’s okay, everyone, we can trust them! This man is my friend Krose and he brings a warrior who has killed these giants before our very eyes! We always wanted to find the humans among us with good in their hearts and they have come to deliver us now! No problems for them, all right?” the Bryfolk man, who was undoubtedly Dinsch, added in effort to help.

       Krose smiled at his friend and they exchanged a welcoming nod.

       Amazingly enough, no one objected to this. With more nods of affirmation and a lot of checking the main tunnel to be sure the giants were not about to set upon them again, Krose grabbed the master key from the wall and set about unlocking the cages. Rienna felt a great welling of joy in her heart but it was dampened by the realization that they were not out of this yet. Dinsch ran over to stand beside Rienna, excitable and unable to stand still it seemed.

       “Thank you, miss, we are truly in your debt. When we get out of here, you’ll have to tell me all about the adventures you’ve had,” the handsome, hyperactive Dinsch rambled.

       Rienna fought to hold back a smile ... and lost. She hated being called ‘miss’ but this was hardly the time to focus on her pet peeves.

       “Stand back, please,” Rienna finally said, taking the bag towards the opposite wall as the last of the Folk moved safely to the other side.

       Rienna suddenly realized that, fast as she was, she might not be able to escape death here. The explosives in the bag she pilfered earlier had very short fuses.

       Oh, how she wanted revenge but if she must die here, so be it. She would not risk more lives to leave the way they came and she intended to make it harder for slavers to use this place again. Vengeance paled beside the right thing to do; she wouldn’t be able to face her father if she became selfish now.

       Rienna piled the bag of explosives against the wall and lit the one with the longest fuse she could find. She wouldn’t make it, but at the first sign of sparks she ran for her life anyway. Within mere seconds, she felt herself being lifted and rushed like the wind towards the Folk huddled against the wall. But not by any explosion-- she looked up to see the happy-go-lucky Dinsch grinning down at her. The explosion knocked them back unharmed but the side of the cave was blown away completely. Without hesitation, Dinsch gathered Krose up as well and sped them both out towards the dangerous opening ahead of the others.

       “It’s true that there are warriors among us, but we can’t expect them to stick around to fight, you know? So you two should go out first so you can stop those giants from killing so many of us!” Dinsch squeaked nervously as he set them down outside of the cave, where the startled men were already rallying to stop the Folk from escaping.

       So while the Folk sped off, Rienna, Krose, and Dinsch fought, but they were not alone. It appeared that several of the warrior Folk intended to help. The dark-skinned tyrants carried guns but the casualties were low nonetheless. Once the men were dead and the aftermath of the battle faded into peace again, all that was left was to free the remaining folk in those wagons and hurry out before more traders could discover the escape.

       It was then that Rienna finally fell to her knees and began to sob hard and without reservation. She realized that she had not even been there to bury her own loved ones. She didn’t stay to honor their deaths and nearly met her own without honoring them at all. Krose and Dinsch watched her silently as the Folk that stayed to help with burials left to return to wherever they called home.

       “Her tears aren’t just for the Folk, are they?” Dinsch sadly asked his human friend Krose.

       Krose smiled sadly and shook his head.

       “Of course not, Dinsch. She is only here to help me so I will help her. But I only asked her to rescue you. She risked her own purpose to free them all,” Krose whispered, realizing that Rienna was now more than a warrior. Rienna was a true friend. Krose smiled at Dinsch suddenly. “I’ve decided that I have to go all the way too, you see. I’m not just going to help her find the man she seeks but I’ll take her anywhere in the universe if she says the word.”

       “Who is this guy she’s after? One of the Mycean Royal Army?” Dinsch asked excitedly.  Dinsch and Krose had explored the whole of Vieres and it hadn’t escaped their noticed that Myceum, a faraway kingdom on the continent of Stoneweld was mounting seemingly random attacks on Vieres.  No one could say why at this point.

Krose laid a hand over his friend’s shoulder, suddenly feeling foolish. “Ah, you see, I ... don’t really know yet, but I’ll tell you what I do know...”

 

       Later that night, camp was set near a slow-moving river and it was unspoken that Dinsch was not parting with them any time soon. Rienna still hadn’t spoken to either of them and seemed lost in her own world. So far they had let her be, but Krose was itching to find out who this man was and start tracking him. And Dinsch ... well, Dinsch had rabbit blood in his veins so patience was truly not a virtue for him. Before the two men could speak up, Rienna stood silently and began to braid her hair. Dinsch and Krose exchanged a look but said nothing.

After her hair was braided, she drew Belias’s dagger from her belt. Krose started to speak but it was Dinsch, surprisingly, that stopped him, an uncharacteristic grim look on his face. With the dagger, Rienna reached back and sliced off the braid of hair cleanly, in such a way that the hair in back now hung halfway down her neck and the hair in front reached her shoulders. It suited her rebirth. Dinsch grinned now and patted Krose’s shoulder reassuringly. Krose stood up now and took his own dagger in hand.  His eyes met Rienna’s and he started to even out her hair while she clutched the hank of hair in her hand.

       Rienna discarded the braid into the sluggish tributary of the Lesthene River. So the old Rienna was truly dead, in the river that she would have died in years ago had Belias not saved her. She watched the hair get swallowed into the river. She looked at the ring on her finger for a moment. It was not yet time to discard it. She resolved that ring and blade would yet taste Melchior’s blood before their burial.

       Rienna remembered vividly the time she sat on a similar spot further north on the banks of the Lesthene River. It was a full week after Belias had saved her, and that week, she had done everything possible to avoid him. She didn’t love him, she told herself over and over and the conflict raged inside of her. She had trained harder than ever that week but her thoughts of him flooded her relentlessly. This was a losing battle. Finally tired and sore, she donned one of the few dresses she owned, a simple dress in a beautiful shade of cerulean and went to sit THERE; “there” being that place she first challenged him, hidden away from all who might try to find her.

But, again, Belias had found her there and she tried to be furious, fighting her tender feelings for him with every bit of strength she possessed; to her dismay, her heart was not so meticulously trained as her body. Rienna had clenched her teeth then and looked at her hands in fists across her lap.

       “What do you want?” she had hissed out, feigning annoyance. She could barely hear over the rapid beating of her heart. Did she say that too loudly?

       But Belias had smiled and shrugged unperturbed.

       “I guess I’ve been a little worried. Given we’ve never been very close, I thought maybe you would have considered trusting me by now,” Belias softly answered.

       Rienna spun around and shot her best icy glare his way.

       “Why? Because you happened to be there when I nearly died a most humiliating death? Well, you were wrong, Belias. I have given my thanks already, but if that hasn’t sufficed for your ego, then I thank you again and ask you to leave me now,” is what she had said but she frowned at the pain in her heart with its little voice screaming ‘stop! Please stay!’  She wouldn’t say it—her own ego was the obstacle, not his.

       Apparently Belias heard her heart a little better than even she did because, keeping a safe distance from her, he sat beside on her on the river bank and smiled up into the sky. “That’s the first time you’ve ever called me by my name, did you know that?”

       Belias asked rhetorically, this time smiling at her.

       She tried to look away as he had turned his smile on her but it was too late.

       Her heart was now entirely his.

       “I... I’ve never had any reason to use it,” she countered weakly. She frowned deeply and turned her attention again to the fists she held in her lap. “I don’t get it. What do you want?”  She could never get a read on him and she hated that she was so flustered when he was looking so serene and handsome.

       Belias said nothing for a long moment. Birds chirped, breezes made leaves rustle and scatter, but Rienna only heard the fervent rush of blood thrumming through her.

       “--With me tonight?” was all she caught when Belias spoke again.

       Genuinely confused, her guard began to fall. She looked at him and tilted her head curiously.

       “Ah, what was that?” she asked timidly. Her heart was at the helm now and it was only the dying voice of an unreasonable dislike that tried to scream ‘no’… but her heart made it sound more like ‘now.’

       Belias laughed softly and cleared his throat. Was he really blushing?

       “If I asked, would you dance with me tonight?” he asked, more slowly and a bit shier.

       Rienna bit at her lower lip and tossed a stone into the river. She couldn’t seem to get what he was asking of her now. Dance? What dance? Had she forgotten something? Belias laughed a little embarrassedly now and started to stand up, taking her silence as rejection. To both his and her amazement, her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist as a signal to stay. He saw the confusion on her face clearly now and the deep frown and faraway look in her eyes that avoided his as she tried to figure out what he was after.

       “Ah, you didn’t forget that tonight is the first night of the Summer Festival, did you?” Belias tried a guess.

       Suddenly, her face seemed awash with relief and he saw her laugh, genuinely, for the first time ever.

       “It seems I did forget!” Rienna admitted, and then pulled her hand away, getting quickly to her feet. She shrugged, unable to meet his gaze. “I ... guess I would dance with you… if you asked.”

       With that, Rienna turned and ran back towards Merschenez Castle. Belias stayed there, still dazed by that beautiful laugh he caught on the wind.

       Belias never got to tell her: that was the day he realized he loved her.

 

       Rienna snapped out of her daze, her hair freshly cut, her companions unable to look away from her now. Dinsch bounced in place a little then bounded over to her.

       “It’s okay, Miss Rienna, we understand. I want to help too!” Dinsch offered, smiling brightly. “You haven’t yet told Krose who we’re looking for, right? So, will you tell us now? We shouldn’t waste tomorrow’s light, right?”

       Rienna nodded and sat by the fire on the opposite side that Krose sat on. Dinsch unconsciously went to sit beside his friend. He noticed Rienna’s eyes studied him now.

       Dinsch was quite tall for a human (monstrous for a rabbit). Though his rabbit genes were albino, as evident by his red eyes and white hair/fur, his skin was quite dark from the sun. His hair was short, plastered to his head save for the hair at the front, which dangled just below his eyebrows. He had no giant rabbit ears; they were quite human in fact but for an obvious point and sparse white hairs. The rabbit fur seemed to be placed expertly: down his neck and spine, arrowed across his pectoral muscles trailing down his stomach (and beyond to where Rienna wouldn’t allow herself to imagine), along the backs of his arms, and sparsely at mid-thigh, from the knees down, the most rabbit-like part was completely covered. His legs were built much like a giant rabbit’s, his human body appearing to end at the knees. He even had a fluffy little white tail jutting out. His thighs were most impressively muscled, but she expected that even the weakest Bryfolk shared that trait. As far as clothes went, at the moment, he wore only a loincloth, but Rienna guessed that he never wore much more than that. She had heard that Folk weren’t too fond of clothing and wore only enough to not be entirely indecent in the human world. This usually meant that they found running around in human undergarments to be wholly acceptable.

       Yes, Rienna nodded silently and thought to herself, Folk really are uncommonly beautiful.

Rienna’s observations of Dinsch appeared to be quick yet favorable to the two men. She observed Dinsch for no longer than a few seconds before continuing.

       “I appreciate your help, both of you. But this is my journey to make and I cannot let anyone die for my selfishness,” Rienna finally said, her voice hoarse still from her earlier expression of grief.

Krose spoke now sternly.

       “We appreciate your concern for the both of us, but by my thinking, he and I both would be dead or better off that way if not for you, so it’s best if you not try to fight us on this. We’ve made up our minds already and we’ll see you through this to the bitter end.”

       This left Rienna no room to argue. Their eyes now dared her to protest. She closed her eyes, shaking her head in defeat.

       “Then I guess I have no choice but to humbly accept,” Rienna softly agreed, hiding just how touched she was by that.  She had known men to be loyal, mostly out of loyalty to her father, but it was a new thing altogether to earn that respect on her own merit. Rienna’s face became an impassable mask and her words were all business. “The man’s name is Melchior. He was once a soldier of my father’s and best friend to my late husband. Both he and Belias were adopted from the Hargreaves Orphanage of Eastern Ersenais to train with my father. He was supposedly killed pursuing… someone from his childhood… but there was no body found. I know it was him. His face was but a few feet away from my own and he looked ... satisfied.”

       Rienna spat out the last word with hatred and disgust. Not just satisfied, but cold and teasing. If Melchior weren’t such a unique-looking man, she might have told herself it wasn’t him, but there was no mistaking it.  The tattoos, the burning hair and bright eyes. Dinsch and Krose nodded gravely. Krose rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

       “If this Melchior is the same one I’m thinking of, he must be that lunatic that was testing out an army of piloted machinations to the southeast. They’ve hit a couple other cities too, I’m told,” Krose offered hopefully.

       Rienna’s face lit up with grim recognition.

       “Yes! He was in one of those horrible things when he ... when he killed everyone,” Rienna sputtered out, pumped up that she was so close to getting her revenge. Rienna shot to her feet and rushed up to Krose, kneeling before him eagerly. “Where? Where do we find this place?”

       Krose tried to shrug it off easily but he couldn’t hide his pride at being able to help. He knew he shouldn’t just tell her, that she might plan to take the information and go alone, but he was also a light sleeper and she’d have a hard time doing so.  Of course, he wasn’t ready to give up that secret.

       “It’s hidden near Peneschal Falls,” Krose said with ease, leaning closer to Rienna and grinning. “And don’t you dare try to sneak off on your own tonight. Not only is Dinsch a light sleeper with keen ears, but you’ll never be able to find your way in without me.”

       At this, Rienna smiled lopsidedly. Okay, so it had crossed her mind to try to sneak off on her own.

       Looked like she was stuck with those two.

 

       So when morning came, the three of them headed for the great waterfall of Lesthene, Peneschal Falls. Rienna thought it might be best to acquire horses for speed but decided against it. Folk were always disgusted with using animals for transportation, partially because of their origins but also because they were all equipped with some form of speedy transportation: the Bryfolk had powerful sprinter’s legs, the Reishefolk had powerful wings, and so on. Rienna did not think Dinsch would be nasty with her but she did have a feeling he might try to pick Krose and her up and bound off for the falls gleefully. Now was not a time for sore muscles and bruises.

       So they walked.

       It was well in to the day, the sun at its highest point in the sky, before they approached Peneschal Falls warily. It seemed eerily quiet there and Rienna now looked silently at Krose. Krose was frowning deeply in thought, rubbing his chin, and even tapping his index finger there lightly.

       “Are you sure of this, Krose? It looks like a regular waterfall to me,” Rienna finally said.

       If ’regular’ was even a word you could use for such an enormous falling curtain of water... But Krose nodded sharply and started to approach warily. This time, Dinsch and Rienna exchanged a look of doubt behind Krose’s back. They seemed to be heading into the waterfall. There was no way past the water on the side they stood. Krose frowned darkly and turned to Dinsch.

       “It’s your turn now, Dinsch. Hop over to the other side and look for an entrance behind the waterfall,” Krose commanded, a little crossly.

       Dinsch took no offense and bounded effortlessly across the random stones spanning the river. They could no longer see him as Dinsch wrapped around the other side of the falls. After a short while, Dinsch came bouncing back with a big grin on his face.

       “You were right, my friend! There IS an entrance!” Dinsch exclaimed merrily.

       Krose’s spirits seemed lifted again as he walked over to stand by his friend then gestured for Rienna to come over. Rienna was suddenly timid about what would happen next.

       “Come now, it’ll be quick, Miss Rienna. I’ll carry you both over there!” Dinsch said cheerily, flexing a muscle in his arm. “You think little humans like the two of you are a challenge to carry for even the smallest of the Bryfolk?”

       Rienna resigned the fight and headed over, nonetheless reluctant to do so. Did she not just before fear this might happen? And over a dangerous bit of rapids to boot!

       Dinsch snagged the two of them before either could object and began bounding over rock and rapid. At first, Rienna trembled with trepidation but suddenly she became exhilarated and started to laugh despite her attempts to hold it in. When they reached the other side, Rienna’s face became stony, a weak mask for obvious embarrassment as Krose and Dinsch grinned over at her.

       “That was foolish of me. I’m sure someone must have heard that. We’ll have to be extra careful now,” Rienna squeaked out through her tightened throat.

       Wisely, the two men said nothing and followed her to where she barely spotted the well-hidden entrance.        She stepped inside and gasped.

       The three of them were completely awed by the vast intricately decorated chamber. It very much resembled the ruins of a great temple, the stone wall appearing purplish. The purple carved faces poked out from behind thick tendrils and waving curtains of emerald green ivy. Rienna looked to the floor of the entrance and saw writings carved in a strange language and a metal platform of some kind carved into the floor. Krose saw where her eyes were and grabbed her arm just before she stepped on it.

       “It’s a launch pad for one of those damned robots. That explains how they got the damn things through that waterfall. Don’t step on it; there’s really no telling how it’s activated,” Krose softly warned.

       Rienna nodded but noted a lever on the wall nearly covered by ivy.

       The place was eerily quiet and one thing became plain and clear: this place was deserted. It had hardly been a place made solely for the machines, it had a history.  She looked around and wondered what must have happened here before now—tribal markings, carvings.  She wondered if some sort of meetings or pacts must have taken place here once. Even with the ominous remains of those horrible machines, it was indescribably lovely. Nevertheless, Rienna saw that there was more to this place in the present and they should still look for some kind of clue as to Melchior’s whereabouts. She gestured for Krose and Dinsch to follow her into a tunnel behind an enormous altar. After several turns, Dinsch firmly stopped his companions and gestured for them to be quiet. They stopped and heard it too. The scuffle of approaching footsteps and the hushed voices of others. They all drew their weapons as the unknown group emerged from the tunnel. The strange group looked startled, drawing their weapons as well.

       Rienna did not hesitate or mince words now.

       “Whoever you are, you’ll tell me what I want to know now or die here! Where is Melchior?” Rienna shouted out, in the unquestionable tone her father had mastered.

       The young man at the head of the other group lowered his guard a bit, his jaw dropping.

       “You mean, you don’t know either?” came his dismayed reply.