Shei woke to a deep grey forest. The smell was heavy of myne and nature. Conversations were quiet, and the clanking of armor and the rustling of leather were consistent. The Diplomat hadn’t even moved a muscle yet, but she knew that she had already began generating ahnsha vodm.

The girl missed home. Her quiet room and the bluish afternoon light pouring through her window. The happy chatter and the random flitting of wings in the trade quarter of the Nyphallatess. She hadn’t many friends, but life was simple away from her work. Ah- the simplicity. Her life had very few conflicts only days ago. She really only had Pahkah to worry about.

Pahkah. Two days away, and so much may already have happened for him. He was her friend, and she might have missed some of the most important events of his stay on Logos-Anima. Shei didn’t know how the Nymphs would react to him in her absence but she knew that this would have driven both of them mad. So many things would have to happen before he came to Annayl. It was better that he stayed at the Nymphallatess, with his few friends and his feeling of familiarity. On his world, he was a man of repute. On Logos-Anima, he was just starting his journey. On this world, he had no hope of ever seeing a familiar face… or would he? Shei remembered that his family and people had come here only days after him. They have had each other in this new place and have probably yet to meet any of the races that live here. Another people that may possibly remain blissfully ignorant.

The timing of all of this has been strangely unique. Shei was not a historian by any measure, especially concerning any race excepting the Fah and the Nymphs. Yet she had to wonder if the Dragons had been meddling this whole time. Surely they would know if a new race was coming to Logos-Anima. Was this a marker in their plans? Did they foresee the arrival of the Mayan Race?

If they did not, the Graes might have. No race was as knowledgeable as the Graes, because they were the first. They knew how to read the stars and planets while every other race was learning about themselves and where they came from. They might also know about the Dragon’s Plan.

No matter what the circumstances were, Shei had to go to them. There was a large role the Graes would play.

Shei was afraid to move. Doing so would reveal which muscles of her body were ready to protest the hard bed the tree and soil made. She turned her head towards Qfove’s armored leg. No pain yet, so the girl drew a deep breath and attempted to rise. Her protector’s fingers wrapped gently around her own arm and provided aide in the endeavor. Still no pain. Very good.

“Is your mind clear and ready?” The polished Myric asked.

Shei bent her neck slowly towards each shoulder and stretched the arch of her back. “I believe so. My body feels better than I thought it would as well.” The Diplomat looked over at her fully armored counterpart. “You will remain close to me. Do not fight unless we are attacked, understood?”

“That was as I intended to do, Hee, but thank you for making your wishes known,” Qfove chirped.

Shei believed that there would be a smile if the Fah had lips, so the halfling returned it. “Should we see the progress of the other leaders now?”

They both moved toward the center of the camp where the leadership was posted. As they drew nearer, the leaders all stood from their meals. “Princess,” Comaj exclaimed.

“My good Fah, thank you all for letting me sleep. How are the teams and the smaller camps?” Shei’s diplomacy was back in full swing.

“The camps are prepared and ready for any action they might see,” Qdae responded. “The warrior group is posted near the bonfire’s fuel, ready for anything that comes through that opening.”

Qrava took a step forward. “A small group of runners has been separated and charged to patrol between the smaller camps and the main one. One remains at each end of the patrol path while two crossovers relieve those left stationary. The small camps are in constant contact. The remainder of the runners are already out scouting.”

Sabad stood a little taller. “My spies have been dispatched. They form a staggered perimeter around all the camps and in places where they can see the majority of the runners.”

“And Copic?” Shei asked as she looked at the southern area of the camp.

Qrava pointed in a manner that suggested the other side of the mound of sticks and dried hash that would eventually become the night’s bonfire. “He’s posted there with five of Treif’s warriors. Possibly meditating.”

“Very good. All is set.” Shei looked at Qrava. “When are we to expect reports from the pathfinders? I didn’t specify any method to that mission.”

“The runners are working with the spies on the outer perimeter to report the breaches and activity as they happen. I ordered a full regroup at nightfall to gain an initial report. Otherwise, it is purely circumstantial.” Qrava had a mid toned voice that sounded like a little wooden drum. “With as many surveyors as we have out there, we should have a full topographical map by the middle of this night. We could thin the numbers by as many as half once that map has been drawn and still have a superior perimeter.”

“As big as the Di’Fet are, I’m certain that they will be hard to miss. Thank you all for your commitment to Annayl.” Shei bowed and, with Qfove faithfully at her side, went to join Copic.

Once she was there, she had realized that the hole in the forest was so close that it made her nervous. Qfove, possibly sensing the reaction of her charge, stood facing the gaping clearing at full ready.

“Copic, are you ready?” Shei knelt next to the sitting Fah.

“As ready as I can make myself, Hee. I need to tell you…”Copic looked around at his personal guard. In a quieter voice, “I need to tell you that I can only fully kill a single minion. I cannot recharge quickly enough to take them all in the same manner. If they were smaller, I could kill them effectively.”

“Is it because of the amount of prana?” Shei tilted her head to one side, not knowing fully why he was giving her this information at this moment.

“Not fully. It is the way that prana works. If I could guarantee that no other Fah were in the area, I could set the whole pass aflame; yet since I am targeting a specific part of the enemy, I also have to use prana to focus the effect,” Copic paused. “It is the same if I wanted to inflict pain on the enemy that is being attacked. I cannot guarantee that I won’t hurt my allies unless I dedicate those extra faculties to the task. It will leave me completely open.”

They both stood. Shei shrugged, saying, “Give it your best effort, but know that we are all…”

The groaning of a nearby tree silenced the entire camp. Qfove snapped to an offensive stance. The warriors in the area soon followed. The sound of swords unsheathing and armor clanking was nearly deafening for a second. More silence. Shei could see movement in the pass as the groaning turned into the squealing of a huge tree falling over. Suddenly, a few warriors rushed to stand in front of Qfove as she scooped up Shei and bolted to the rear of the battle-ready camp. A runner emerged from the pass with his hands in the air. Quietly, but just enough to be heard by the front lines, the runner said, “It’s just a tree settling. There is no threat approaching.” The runner disappeared into the darkness again.

A few seconds passed and the camp came alive with hushed chatter and the settling of armored Fah. Shei stared at Qfove, who was facing her quietly. It was obvious that the Myric was in full aggression now. “Thank you, Qfove.”

Her protector straightened and bowed. “It is strange to fall behind the lines of battle when I have been groomed to be at the front. I will have to become accustomed to this.”

***

Paca made quick work of the plaques in the library hidden behind Voy’Brakken’s office, but had weeks of research left to finish. So far, he had been given clues on how to use prana for scientific study, much in the way that the healer had displayed hours ago. He also noted that the access to the lifeforce within every material was similar, especially when mending wounds or healing the mind. Engaged with a tablet that instructed the practice of this pranic skill, Paca held a small bone he had found on the floor nearby. He was nearly ready to try the method shown. Taking in the instructions one more time, he laid the wooden plaque aside and decided to try.

“Unlock the object by identifying its parts and visually divide the object into the smallest elements of which it is comprised.” Paca whispered. He looked at the bone, turning it to see all of its aspects: the smooth outer layer, the spongy layer beneath it, the porous marrow, the old cartilage at the ball joint. The outer layer seemed to be made up of fibers running along the length of the bone. He would have to remove them to further identify the spongy matter beneath. Perhaps he could roll them back like a thin sheet of wood.

“Identify your work space’s boundaries and meditate only on the objects within those boundaries.” Paca laid the bone on the floor. Placing the sides of his hands on the floor around the bone, he curved his fingers around the imagined workspace. Using his meditation skills, he ignored everything outside of the workspace until it disappeared from his active vision.

“Separate the object until each identified part is clearly an individual unit.” Paca’s mind was the knife and the hands that held it. A single cut along the length of the bone and a rolling away of the outer shell should reveal the spongy material. Paca imagined a razor fine beam of light cutting away the fibers in a single sheet. It happened. Gently, the outer layer became like silk and fell away from the spongy material. Paca lifted the inner structure away from the flat sheet, using invisible hands.

The next layer seemed to be like the paper nests made by hornets. The walls were thin and made small cells. Paca lifted the cells away from the mass to reveal the denser material, which looked like sandstone.

“The object’s units have memory. Allow them to reassemble, without force, when the operation is finished.” Paca realized that his mind felt slightly tense, like a bow with a sight draw. Slowly, the Mayan released the draw on his mind. The cells returned to their original position and the mass descended onto the rolled back fibers. The fibers began to close around the spongy material. Light flowed back into the bone and vision returned to normal. There was a foot next to Paca’s hand. It was Voy’Brakken.

“In this state, Pahkah, there is no time. Age knows not who you are nor does it see the area on which you are working. I’ve seen most of what you were doing… I must say, it is much more than I expected of you, even if it was very slow. I am impressed.” Voy’Brakken’s voice even showed his enthusiasm a little.

“How long were you watching?” Paca was more interested in those results rather than discovering whether or not the length of time was embarrassing.

“I missed the removal of the outer sheath, but the removal of the outer marrow and the reassembly lasted until sundown.” Voy’Brakken was matter-of-fact.

“Yes. I will have to work on that.” Paca sighed as he relaxed in his kneeling position.

“Does your mind feel tired? Unalert?” The healer squinted, looking at Paca’s eyes. “It is not uncommon to feel such things after using prana like that.”

The Mayan tilted his head and turned his focus inward. “Actually, I feel rested… almost concentrated. I could possibly do that again if you asked me to.”

“No. Now that you know how to do it, you can practice whenever you like. I think I will give you one more lesson if you’re up to the task of trying it.” The stout Nymph noticed the attentive look in his student’s eyes. “Very good. You will be a healer in no time if you keep this up.” Leaning his shoulder against a wall, he continued. “The breaking down of objects to their more simplistic forms is very good for the removal of solid objects within a wound or the study of specimen you collect. However, there are some skills you will need to learn to become an effective healer; skills that will heighten your senses of smell, taste and feeling. By using a similar method of meditation, you will be able to tell what plants and animals are good for the body and which could potentially be harmful or fatal.” Voy’Brakken collected a waxed vial from behind a stack of tablets, pulled out a single leaf and set it onto the floor. “I want you to tell me the nutritional value of this plant.”

Paca loomed over the leaf and placed his hands around it. Moments later, he sat up and said, “I would say that this plant is probably good in small doses, but eating the whole leaf would bring death.”

“Good. Tell me how this plant would be good for the body.”

The Dark Man leaned down again and resumed his study of the leaf. “I feel… relaxed. My muscles want to loosen and sleep…” Paca paused and sat back on his feet. “It’s a very potent sedative that could render someone fast asleep if it were steamed. I think this is the leaf you were using to keep me relaxed when I came into your care yesterday.”

“Again, I’m impressed. Using this method, you will be able to find a cure, in your immediate area, for almost every ache and pain, anywhere you go.” Voy’Brakken crossed his arms as he continued to lean against the wall. “Come back tomorrow with five different samples of plants that can be used to soothe a wound. Find them yourself; do not ask a merchant. He may unknowingly deceive you. Though tonight, I want you to get a good night’s rest.”

Paca rose and made his way to the door leading to Voy’Brakken’s office. “Mayan…” The healer said.

“Yes?”

“Trade this for robes and food. I’m rewarding you for wasting so little of my time.” Voy’Brakken smiled and gave him a small, tightly netted sack, inside which were smooth, black gems.

Paca smiled and bounced the purse in his hand a few times, feeling its weight. “Thank you very much, Voy’Brakken.” After receiving a court nod, the Mayan left the library and exited the healer’s study chamber. Only the guards were in the hall, standing quietly attentive. The buzz of the dark man’s Apranis Guardian echoed dully in the stone cavern, but that ceased immediately upon entering into the main hall that would take him across to the trade quarter. Paca was suddenly aware of the time that he had lost in his study of prana when even the previously bustling public area was sparse with Nymphs. Most of the merchants had packed up their wagons and left the quarter already, though a dedicated few remained, gleefully serving their nocturnal customers.

Looking up again, Paca noted that there was no light piercing the canopy as before. A soft, cool breeze kissed his cheek lightly. Breathing in through his nose, audibly sampling the rich, sweet smelling wind, the Dark Man savored it deeply. Leveling his chin, he paid closer attention to the fabrics on the carts. Most of the fabrics were rolled into thick bundles while some robes and trousers hung on horizontal rods next to the carts. Each vendor had different colours of cloth and different grades of quality. All of them had solid coloured cloths except for one. That vendor is the one that Paca approached.

Though already radiant in his countenance, the nymph livened up further. “Hello, my tall, esteemed patron! I have heard much about you! My name is Azorob! Browse at your leisure!”

“I am Paca. How are you on this cool night?”

“Very well, my dark friend! I hope that you are the same. Please tell me if I can show you something specific!” The nymph was genuinely cheerful. His tunic was very different from most other Nymphs Paca had seen. His skin coloured a greenish yellow, Azorob was pleasant to the eye as well. The Mayan knew that this nymph was the designer of the fabrics he was now browsing.

After feeling his way through the bolts of cloth, Paca found one that was very attractive to both his sense of touch and that of sight. The fabric featured glossy black stripes that extended over its whole length in a shallow “V”. Between the black chevrons were alternating silver and yellow rectangles. “I like this one.”

“What would you like to have made with this fabric? It would be great for a full length robe… I can see it now!” Azorob closed one eye as he held out his hands to visually measure his customer. “Is a robe what you had in mind?”

“Actually, yes.” Paca admired the little artist as he sifted through a few other fabrics and laid them next to the bolt that the Mayan picked. The Nymph looked at the three bolts of cloth and back up at his customer. “I like your vision, Azorob. I trust you with its design.”

“Actually, Pahkah, I have wanted to use this fabric for a long time! I promise that you will love your robe when it is done!” The nymph smiled widely. “I can have this ready for you in the morning. Will you come back early for a fitting?”

“Certainly… but…” Paca retrieved the small sack of gemstones. “How much of this would pay for it?”

“Oh! Dear Great Nymph!” The vendor held up his hands in surprise. “A Skal’ah clothier would design a twenty piece wardrobe for that! I’ll give you the same quantity for half!” The Nymph’s excitement attracted the attention of the other vendors and their customers in the area. He quieted down, realizing the sudden gazes in his direction. “You don’t know what you have there, do you…”

“Not at all. Would you mind telling me how much these are worth?” Paca leaned in to his commendably honest shop owner.

The little vendor whispered, but maintained his enthusiasm. “Let’s just say that I can turn my little cart into a permanent store with a full inventory for what I have asked. Ask whoever gave that to you and they will tell you that I am generous in my price!” He looked at the pouch. “What do you say, my dark friend? Will you help my brand become the biggest in the Nymphallatess?”

The Mayan smiled. “Certainly.” Paca counted out half of the gemstones and gave them to the vendor.

“Come back tomorrow morning for the fitting on your robe and we’ll talk about the rest of your wardrobe then, my friend. I will even close my business for a couple of days to get the rest of your order finished!” Azorob was flushed with excitement, but managed to keep his voice at a comfortable level.

“I do have something else to ask, tailor…” Paca said quietly. Once the Nymph looked up at his customer, the Dark Man spoke again. “It is a high possibility that I will be meeting with the Graelynisse soon. Would it be hard to ask for a robe that will ease my welcoming?”

“With who is your business? Anyone in particular?” The Nymph squinted one eye in speculation.”It really does matter who you’re meeting with! Listen, I’m not trying to get the gossip around here!”

Paca closed his eyes and remembered his vision yesterday. “One of Lyenthil’s Children. Possibly more.”

Azorob’s sigh lifted his shoulders and came out heavily. Smirking, he responded, “You’re going to be a very fashionable man when I am done with you, my dark friend. I have just the thing in mind. Both will be ready for you when you return.”

“I will see you then.” Paca gave a solidly assured smile and walked away from the happy vendor.

He felt good about the exchange between Azorob and himself. It was accomplishment that soothed the Mayan’s heart as he walked thoughtfully back to his quarters, though a slight vein of worry crept in to his mind. He dismissed it, knowing with a full heart that the vendor was honest and bright; which would further be evidenced by the clothing he received in the morning.

The day’s work was Paca’s next focus. He admitted to himself his surprise concerning his progress with the use of prana. Feeling aware of its presence coursing the length of his arms, the Mayan concentrated on the flow of the mysterious energy coming from the very centers of his body. The hairs on the back of his neck raised and tingling sensation crawled up to the crown of his head. Paca became more and more aware of its presence sewing itself into his being. Everything around him was acutely noticed, even that which was behind him. The smell of the yellow algae that lined the walls of the Nymphallatess was perceived by his sense of smell as slightly bitter, but not pungent. His fingertips predicted the texture of all that was around him. As much as he wanted to continue his practice with it tonight, he decided that it would be best to follow Voy’brakken’s advice and rest once he arrived at his quarters. At this resolve, the effect that prana had over him faded slowly away.

***

Tension mounted in the grey fields just outside the southwest borders of Crell. Ulterzan, having endured wave after wave of Poison Elf attacks, grew weary. The knife wounds he endured were just deep enough to sting bitterly as he moved, yet he stared with ironclad resolve at the next hundred foes as they taunted him and the army behind him. He noted that they looked proud, but were weakened at the sight of the sight of the sixty warriors covered in the blood of their kin. As the son of Asceve the Shorelight scanned the front row of the Inflicted, he found the weakest links in the line of their numbers. “Sahzenthis, do you see that crippled warrior there?”

Ulterzan’s first commander responded. “I see him, my lord.”

The battle-hardened Grae turned his head towards Sahzenthis. “Align four spears on that one. Once they breach the line, set their leader on a high pikestaff. Use the breach to collapse the front from the inside.”

“With honor.” The commander ran off behind the line of battle ready Graes. After only moments, he returned. “It is done.”

Reaching at the Ybur Leaf laying on his chest, Ulterzan brought it to his lips and kissed it. “For Iber.” Drawing his sword, he pointed it at the Poison Elves and called to attack. Immediately, the Grae warriors sprinted in a tight formation at their foes, drawing their weapons and yelling as loud as they could. Hesitantly, the Inflicted also charged. Some in their front lines did not keep pace with the warrior at his side, causing a slightly staggered wave. In a fraction of a moment, the armies collided; armor against armor, shield against buckler, fine sword against makeshift weapon. Both Graes and Poison Elves fell at the initial impact, but, from Ulterzan’s perspective, the losses were much greater for the enemy. Every slash of his greatsword cut easily through the inferior armor of the disfigured foes in front of him.  Blood sprayed and screams sounded in every manner, crisp or gurgling on  fluids. Hurriedly, the Grae lord fought through the thinly spread wave of Inflicted to get at the rear of it and check the progress of the spearfighters he sent out. One gnarled face replaced another as he cut away at them, until finally, the ground opened up before him.

The Inflicted army’s leader was already fighting to pull a pike out of himself. The spearfighter continued to charge with his target attached to his weapon until the Poison Elf fell, allowing the sharp tip of the spear to pierce the ground beneath him.

The son of Asceve whipped around to view the breach he specified. A blade swiped close to his face. In a quick riposte, the tip of the lord’s own sword plunged deep into the side of his undisciplined attacker. After a swift kick to the newly made corpse, the use of his weapon was regained. It was then he saw the numbers of the Inflicted being quickly reduced at the breach point.

A quick dirk came from his side and pierced the bone of his hip. As he yelled in agony, his heavy sword cleaved the unsightly soldier’s head clean off.

As Ulterzan looked down at the dagger protruding from his side, Sahzenthis yelled at him from his position nearer to the battle. “Is that a recruiter?!”

“I cannot tell!” the Graelynisse lord yelled back as he quickly pulled it out and lashed it to the plate armor on his leg. By the time he looked up again, the last of the Inflicted were being overpowered. It was time to finish off the injured enemy soldiers. With as much haste as he could afford, Ulterzan jogged to the mound of bodies and plunged his blade into one that was moving away from it.

When the last foe was felled, some of his soldiers retrieved the bodies of their brethren while others finished off the last surviving Poison Elves. The son of Asceve counted only eight of his numbers slain while ten others were badly injured. It was not a great battle, but Iber watched over his warriors that day. It could have been far worse a loss.

Sahzenthis was at his lord’s side now, helping him limp back toward his army. Once there, the loyal first commander removed the short blade from Ulterzan’s armor and examined it closely. “Locue! Come here!” A soldier ran towards the calling first commander. When the soldier arrived, his superior officer spoke again as he held the blade in front of him. “What do you make of this?”

Locue gestured to receive the dagger. He smelled it and rubbed it with a small stone. “I do not believe that it is a recruiter, but… can I see the wound?”

Ulterzan removed the girdle and the appropriate thigh plate and rolled up the fine maille to reveal his hip. “It struck bone.”

“I see.” He leaned in close and sniffed at the wound. Using his finger, Locue pressed the flesh around the small, deep cut. Stopping as Ulterzan winced, he said, “Iber’s blessing, you aren’t going to become one of them… not any more than each of us has the potential to…”

“And Tyrod’s curse?” Ulterzan was relieved to know his fortune, but wanted to know Locue’s negative observations quickly.

“Tyrod’s curse. It looks like the bone may have chipped sharply. You will have to see a healer soon. My lord, the blade was supposed to pierce here.” Locue pointed at the soft flesh above the hip. “Judging the angle, it appears he was hoping that your own body would poison itself. Such attacks are typical, yet very hard to heal.”

Ulterzan nodded. “Thank you, soldier. Attend to your brethren.” Once Locue disappeared into the direction from which he came, the son of Asceve turned to his trusted commander and friend. “He is right. See if there are any Nymph healers in town. I will need their expertise if I am going back to Nyanha within the next few days.” He paused. “Gather the dead and make sure the injured are mended well enough to be moved. Tally the infections also. As the Inflicted do not appear to have more sacrifices to offer today, we will rest just inside Crell’s borders until we have verified the cessation of the threat.”

“My lord, let me guide you to a place where you may rest as I tend to this task.” Sahzenthis took Ulterzan’s wrist into his hands and placed the lord’s arm over his shoulder. Wrapping his arm around the back of his friend’s torso, Sahzenthis walked for both of them over to a nearby tree and helped the lord down. “I will return when your request has been fulfilled.”

“Thank you, brother.” Ulterzan nodded and let his head fall back onto the tree behind him. Exhaustion took full hold of him and dragged him effortlessly into absolute blackness.

***

The Voasq pathfinders emerged from the new clearing. Though the movement caught the attention of nearly every Fah nearest the opening, they did not act jumpy or paranoid when the fawn coloured Fah entered the camp. The medium sized group reported straight to Qrava, but nothing was discussed until Shei and Qfove were among them. Each of the pathfinders carried a cross-section of a moderately thick tree, which had fine drawings on their top surfaces. The halfling surmised that they each started from a central point and worked out a particular area individually.

The meeting occurred near the now roaring bonfire, though an additional torch was provided for ample lighting. The pieces of the round map were placed together and a map was formed. One of the pathfinders stood tall and pointed his false eyespots at Shei. “You must be the Daughter of Poliden’Ra. I am told that you are the one who needs to know everything. Am I correct?”

The girl stood. “Yes. I am given charge of this situation by our king. My name is Shei Rhessi.”

“I am Y’nivn, the Voasq in charge of your map. Let us study it together.” The pathfinder knelt near the disc, leading all who were standing around to do the same. “Here…” Y’nivn pointed at the center of the drawing, “is our camp. We drew it to provide scale in relation to the land we covered. This is the Annayl spire in white.” He pointed at a flat representation of the spire. “Now we have a sense of direction in concerns to the mountain ridge that surrounds the spire and the camp. All the black shows is the water that marks the shores of the Sefspar Peninsula. The varying shades of grey represent the mountains. Dark grey marks areas of concern, because they are easily traveled and near ground level. Those are your breaches. However, those that lead to the shores to the east and west are not currently of any concern, because no obvious travel has occurred on them in a very long time. The dark grey lines with the black dashes are those that lead through the ridge to Lower Sefspar. The white beyond what has been drawn is unexplored territory.”

“And those paths that are marked have been traveled?” Qrava asked.

Y’nivn nodded once. “Yes. Frequently.”

Shei pointed at a small strip of the map that led into ‘unexplored territory’. “What’s that? I assume that, since it was drawn, someone went out that far.”

Y’nivn turned towards her again. “Once more, correct. Effective maps will show what one is to expect when going into unexplored territory. At what angle does the mountain ridge end? Is it an area that may likely host an ambush? In this case, you can see that the ridge path bottlenecks into the path from the opposite side. There is no likely place in that opening that could effectively be used to ambush a party walking out of the pass.”

Shei was looking at the map almost the whole time the other was answering her question. She then pointed at a peculiar curve that veered off of the path towards the western shore of the peninsula. “That looks strange to me. Is this path decreasing in elevation as it gets closer to the shore?”

“Very good!” Y’nivn responded. “This is a key property about this map. I noticed, as I traveled down this very path, that there was sand and small, smooth stones lining the ground. Can you tell me why that would impact me as noteworthy?” The pathfinder took notice of the blank slate in Shei’s eyes and continued. “This was, at one time, a stream of fresh water. Until this point,” he pointed very close to the new entrance into the clearing, “the path was naturally occurring. After that point, the path was carved out of the forest.”

“A stream? I wonder how long it has been dry. Was it you that followed the pass to the other side?” Shei felt like she was on to something.

Y’nivn was quiet for a moment. “Yes. I know what you are trying to ascertain. The land appears to be wasted, as far as I could see. The life there feels as though it has been choked of all breath and is waiting to simply die. It was certainly not what I expected for the tip of a peninsula. I have no explanation for it.”

Shei stood slowly and faced Qfove. “They were being starved; forced to eat one another and search for food when all else had failed.” Pausing, the Diplomat looked around, searching for the right words. “By the time they would reach Annayl, they would have developed  a dependency on the lives of those weaker than they.” Then to Y’nivn, “Are there any other points of interest?”

“Not that we could find. It seems that this path is really the only way to get to Annayl without taking to the sea.”

A thought droned more clearly into form in Shei’s head, which had been annoying her since her conversation with Sa’Kata. She had to meditate on it to bring it fully into focus. “Thank you, Pathfinder. I may call on your team again soon. We may have to go deeper into Lower Sefspar to further develop our long term strategy; yet as for now, I no longer require your services.”

“Thank you, Daughter of the King.”

Shei bowed slightly to the company and dismissed herself. Qfove followed dutifully. The chatter near the fire continued behind her, but the words being spoken there became harder to hear as she and her companion moved toward the north edge of the large clearing. As the fire was in the same place it had been the previous night, only the smaller torches at that end of the camp provided the light the couple saw by. Long, shifting shadows were cast outward from each of small flames as Fah stood next to the posts the torches were mounted upon. Only the north boundary of the clearing was completely engulfed in darkness. That was where Shei was headed. The diplomat who was slowly evolving into a strategist needed time to think in silence and relay her thoughts to her Myric protector for advice.