Chapter 1: Tanazu

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Day 12 of Snow, year 790.

A cart pulled by a single grey horse appeared on the crest of the hill. At its helm, a bulky man held the reins in one hand and the brim of his cowl in the other. As it made its way down the slope, the wheels left two muddy trails in the snow.—

Lyna stepped off the road, conceding the way. Above, the dark sky reminded her of her motherland, its thick clouds forming a ceiling just as compact as the cavernous rocks of Kvanas. Although it was midmorning, the sun had yet to show its face.

Since she had branched off toward the north, leaving the Green Road that had once connected the realms of Tilia and Istagon, darkness had gotten heavier, bleeding freely into the day. The phenomenon was anything but natural and Lyna wondered if this was a manifestation of the Territories of Sij, her final destination.

The cart slowed down and stopped in front of Lyna. A tarp covered a significant quantity of merchandise in the back. Most likely a peddler.

Beside the man, on the end of a pole, a pendant in the shape of a leaf swung left and right. The symbol of Mitra, Mystic of protection and healing. It was common practise in these lands to display one on your travels.

"Turn back," said the driver, without looking her way. A large nose and an hirsute black beard stuck out of the hood. The hair was unnaturally dark, most likely oiled and coloured. "You heard me?"

"I did," said Lyna.

At her voice, the man turned his head sideways. "I know that accent," he said.

Lyna doubted he did. She also knew he could not make out her face from under her own cowl.

"An elf, from Quilanis?"

"No," said Lyna.

She was not welcome in Quilanis. The Quil'an didn't think favourably of their cousins from the Nether.

The man snorted, as if he did not believe her. The horse puffed and huffed, wanting to leave. It was a beautiful animal, its coat thick and smooth. Even though it was not the typical mount a knight would ride, Lyna guessed that it originated from Erlinia.

The peddler let the animal take a few steps. The wheels of the cart creaked as they went down and up a hole.

"No matter," he said. "Turn around. Whatever business you have here isn't worth your while."

At the man's feet, Lyna noticed a single boot, on top of which rested a torn cloak. Both garments were too small for the driver.

"What happened to your partner?" she asked.

The man looked down and with a hand, touched the cloak. "This land is cursed, and the village..."

The peddler shook his head.

"What happened?" Lyna asked again.

"They took him!" he said. "They took him and they gave him to the woods."

"A sacrifice?"

"Call it what you want. I say it's insanity."

"Who did this?"

"The villagers. The territories muddle their mind. Who can blame them?" The man went as if to look over his shoulder, but stopped himself.

"I thought only the Red Shield were allowed to ban captives into Sij."

"Officially, yes. But who would know? This is the end of the world. No one cares what happens here."

"Some care enough to come all this way and trade."

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