Immortal Tears

By Cameron Box

The world doesn't care, so why should I? A common thought that hunted its way through Mae's skull as she bent down at the remains of her shattered home. Her small village fueled a flame of conquest that she didn't understand, but for what she did know is that the world around her didn't care. She was alone and orphaned as she moved her eyes to the afternoon sky that was being suffocated like prey to a serpent. All she could hear was the trampling of horses and the screaming of men, women, and children. Her thoughts twisted like a mighty storm as her panic was masked with the arrival of a stranger in a green hood.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Nov 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9798886540840

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Immortal Tears

Cameron Box

Copyright © 2022 Cameron Box

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2022

ISBN 979-8-88654-082-6 (pbk)

ISBN 979-8-88654-084-0 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

About the Author

Chapter 1

Days of New

An ebony bird darted across the sky as a beautiful sunrise was dancing with it. The morning air opened up to smoke as the bird flew down into the cobble streets below to peck at forgotten food. The sounds of wagons and beasts of burden could be seen working as the bird fluttered back into the sky. It watched with its silver peepers. The ivory gaze of the ebony bird turned to see old, worn buildings puff out chimney smoke as people could be heard chatting and trading down below in the market square. The bird landed on a statue in the market square of a woman holding holly and a branch of willow. The bird took off once more as it watched the people laugh and chat about the lovely, warm morning. The dark bird then flew outward to the large orchards of apples and oranges that lay on the outskirts of the town. The black bird landed on a window of a well-used Baltic thatch and timber house that is centered on the side of the orchard road. The bird looked into the window with curious eyes as it began to chirp. Loud rustling could be heard as a young girl was tumbling toward the window like a fury in a snowstorm.

"Grrr, damn bird!" shouted the young girl from her bed, throwing her pillow at the window to scare off the bird.

She removed her sheets as she placed her feet on the wooden floor. It creaked as she pressed her weight on it to stand. She lifted her tired body up, walking groggily to the window to look outside. She sighed, looking at the massive orchards outside her home, towering over her small home like yotem in the mountains. She watched the smoke of the town puff into the sky as it swayed like a leaf in the wind. The young girl turned and smiled, moving her brown hair off her shoulder. She walked to her dresser, which is made of fine fir wood and lined with brass. She removed some used stockings and a pair of long pants, which had a few worn holes lining the knees. The young girl stumbled to her closet, picked out a red and green overshirt, and started to button it. She moved to the side of her bed to sit and put on her stockings. The young girl finished by placing her pants on her right then left legs and pulled them up.

Ah, if I am awake, I might as well get this day started, said the young girl, walking to the next room of her home.

The next room of her home was a small rustic kitchen with a fireplace, where someone was cooking what could only be breakfast. The young girl sat at a worn oak table that was positioned in the corner with table settings for two. Sitting across from her was an older man with peppered hair and a short beard with gray lining it. His posture was slumped and firm as if he had worked for years in fields or as a farmhand. He wore spectacles on his nose, which gave him a scholarly look as he moved his head up to gaze at the girl sitting across from him. He gave her a whimsical smile as he passed her a plate with ham on it.

Ah, looks like she lives, greeted the man sitting at the table. Glad to see you up and on time this morning, he said, going back to his tea that was placed next to his left hand on a small plate. I see you haven't slept well or, at all, by the looks of you, dear, the man exclaimed to the young girl. Mae, are you okay, truly, are you? Do we need to see the healer before we head to work? the man said with his specs on the tip of his nose. I can take you by there. He let on.

Mae turned to him as she placed her hands on the table, her tired expression coming through her young and jumpy voice. Am okay, she said with a tired voice. I keep getting the same dream, the one with the flames and darkness, she exclaimed. I see you there, and I am there as well. It always ends up dark or on fire. I can't understand it. I want to, but I just can't, Mae said with fear now coming through.

The man stood up and walked to her. He looked down at her and gazed into her tired-filled eyes. He placed his right hand on her small head, gently moving her long brown hair out of her face.

It's okay. I fear things too, my little doch. I fear that the city-states are about to go to war. I fear for you the most, my sweet. I fear that the gods won't look after you when I am gone, yet fear can be a good thing in times of hardships like these, he said with a calming and soothing voice.

He stood up and walked to the fireplace to put it out. White steam and smoke puffed out from the fireplace in a swirl of mist.

Nightmares and dreams are the gods trying to tell us that something is to come. I hope it's good news, he continued as he walked to the door. Mae, grab your hat and shoes. We have work to tend to in town. These fields won't watch themselves, said the man.

Father! muttered Mae as she walked to put on her sandals and farming straw hat. I was there though. I watched you burn and become dark. I don't understand this dream or what it really means in the bigger picture…I just want to sleep, her voice building with frustration.

Perhaps you're a seer, said Mae's father in a joking manner as he took his hat off the rack near the door and ushered his daughter out into the warm morning air.

Mae gave him a face as he locked the door to their home.

Don't joke with me, Dad. I saw it, and what it was—this dream—felt so real, and I looked through it as if it was clear stream water, she said, walking behind him with her arms crossed.

The walk from Mae's little homestead to town was short and simple. The route was carved along the rigged sides of the orchards and was made of cobblestone that lead them straight there. Mae's father walked ahead; he moved with his head down to keep his eyes on his feet till they came to their first stop. He looked down at the ground as they slowly walked to a large spirit gate that was decorated with a dark-red flag that draped over it like an unwanted cloak. Standing at the gate was a fat man clad in iron armor draped with scarlet cloth that had an emblem of a black eye on it. The man stopped Mae and her father as they moved to talk with the armed man.

Who are you two wandering the roads of Komna on this fine morning? choked out the man with his raspy voice. He looked them up and then down with a bit of disgust.

Aye, our names. Ya, I am Ashloa, and this is my doch. Me and her are farmers here and would like to make our way into the town square for trade and news on the events of our home, Ashloa said with a tremble in his voice. He looked at the man with the blade on his side. Ashloa was scared of this man, and Mae knew it. The man looked at Mae then back to her father.

Doch? Oh, I see, you're showing her the town before work. Is that it? said the man in iron.

Aye, sir, said Ashloa.

Go ahead. I see no trouble here, spat the man in iron.

Ashloa and Mae walked past the gate into the town of Komna. Crimson banners draped over the walls of every building like a parasitic tapestry; in the banners was a black eye with an X in the middle of it. Mae looked at these eyesores with bitterness in her young heart. The red banners gave her a sense of uneasiness, and the same fell to her father as well. She could still remember the Komna flag or what she thought the flag was—bright-green with bees and a willow tree; now it was missing from its place and home. She walked with her father down the streets of her hometown. The man she had known her whole life seemed to be jumpy as he moved. Mae turned looking at what her father was scared of—soldiers clad in steel and iron moving through the streets of her small town. Ashloa kept his head down as they marched by. He walked past the marching group with Mae doing the same.

Why do we even farm for them when they treat us like dogs, Dad? questioned Mae.

We have no choice, dear. I feel like the start of a war is to come, and we are in the middle of it, he said, covering his face with a loose cloth. We are just farmers with blessings. They are known to be monsters on a battlefield. We can't win wars with blessings and fertile land, my dear, he said looking at the red banners drifting in the warm morning breeze. I hope one day you can find peace in this madness of upstart conflict. I hope, Ashloa said, looking down at his daughter.

Mae nodded at the statement, too young to understand it but knowing it meant something important. They walked to an outer field from the north of Komna. The warm morning was hitting them as they started to get to work, with more and more farmers joining the day of harvest and reaping. The day shifted slowly by as Mae wiped the sweat from her face and looked to see men on horses in the horizon. She looked to her father as the other farmers started to look up as well. Mae heard a loud horn that shook the teeth in her mouth as the men on horses started to descend from their horses. The men were armed and suited with red and gold cloths. The few men on horse were clad in Damascus steel armor and bronze trim. The crimson men made their way down to the farmers. A short man with brown hair and green eyes ran to the farmers. He was holding his belt to make sure his sword did not fall from his side. He stood up straight and was out of breath upon reaching the group.

I, Sinvic of the Seventy-Seventh Legion, come to give a directive, on the behalf of my lord, he said, out of breath with his face red from running.

Another horn blew as a large man stepped off his horse and looked at the farmers with discontent. The man looked back to Sinvic and cleared his voice.

I am Maxmass Tubieus, but you can refer to me as the Crimson Wolf, he said with a commanding voice. I am here to offer you a degree from the fatherland of Bloodshed, he said, walking, keeping his clock around his right arm to hide it. Do you aid us in the upcoming bloodraid with the city-state of Niffel on Nerr, or do you decline? I will not ask twice, he said, looking around as a random farmer shout back at him.

You mean to rape and pillage our land for the war in Nerr! a man shouted at Max as if he had always hated him. I refuse! he shouted back. You're just looking for an easy prey, the random farmer spilled.

I am impressed. I never thought our tales would be told in a dirt pile like this, Max said, moving closer to the man, getting right into his face. You look like you're a strong man, he said, making the random farmer feel small. You know, I was going to do this the right way, put us on the right track with the people of Komna and Bloodshed, but it seems this man has spoken for all of you because no one here is strong enough to say what's on their minds right now, he shouted. I like this man here. He makes such a good example to those that get in my way, Max growled as he turned to the man and grabbed him by his head with his right hand.

A burst of steam and the loud crunch of bone rattled across the orchard as Maxmass's right cogworked hand smashed the random farmer's head like a pumpkin. Mae and the other farmers stepped back. Horror filled them as Maxmass walked to his horse. He shook the blood and brain off his steel cogworked arm. He turned getting on his horse as he looked down on Sinvic.

Let's see if Little Root is more passive to our advances, Max said to Sinvic as he nodded.

What about these witnesses, my lord? They shouldn't be able to spread the rumor that you're a murderer rather than a peacekeeper, Sinvic said with a bit of eagerness in his voice as he scanned the men and women farmers.

Mae watched as her father grabbed her arm. This startled her as she looked to him for guidance in this endeavor. Ashloa turned to his daughter, moving his back to the crowd of farmers and soldiers and spoke in a calm but urgent command to her.

Run! Ashloa uttered out as Max snapped his right hand making a loud metallic sound. The soldiers descended on the farmers like a tidal wave hitting the shore. Mae turned to see her father picking up a farming scythe to help his fellow men. She turned and ran into a soldier taking off an arm of one of her people. He grinned at her as Ashloa swung the scythe at the man, clipping his left eye. The man yelled in pain as Ashloa shouted at his little girl to meet him back at the homestead. Mae looking at her father with tears in her eyes ran. She ran with such haste darting into the town of Komna. Mae watched as flaming arrows hit the tops of buildings, setting the town ablaze. She heard screams of women being ravaged and the cries of man and children being butchered. She watched as the dread of this event filled her mind—her home becoming a graveyard of the people she once called friends. She ran, not stopping even with the burning of her lungs and aching of her legs. Her straw hat floated into the warm air as she ran. She found herself in the town square, running past the statue of the maiden with holly and willow in hand. She fell back on her ass, not paying attention to the thing she ran into. Mae stood up hearing the sound of soldiers clad in red taking what they wanted; she looked down to see a girl in a green cloak with a small bag on her side. Mae thought to herself, I need to meet my father. We need to get out of here! She turned and started to run, but she noticed that the girl was crying. Mae groaned having too big of a heart to leave someone in need, so she ran to the girl. Get up, she said with a bit of urgency in her voice. I do not want to see what these men do to girls like us after this massacre, so get up and run. I can't stay much longer! she said, looking at the girl who slowly stood up. Mae looked at the stranger in green. She saw that the girl was a short thing with the green cloak covering her face to hide her identity. Mae found this strange but did not notice much as she grabbed the cloaked girl's arm and started to run. Mae was met with a bit of resistance as the cloaked girl pulled back.

What are you doing? They will kill us or worse if we don't run! Mae exclaimed, panting and tired with the stress from the nightmare around her. The cloaked stranger pulled her arm back and uttered a scared response to Mae, Please don't hurt me. I have no coin or land, please. The stranger crouched down in fear as arrows flew in the sky, hitting around Mae and the scared stranger.

Mae gritted her teeth as she brute-forced the girl to her feet and started to run to her home. They ran out the spirit gate. Mae was huffing and panting, and she didn't hear the stranger behind even breathe. Mae came to her home with the stranger behind. As they stopped, she saw her home in flames. She looked around to see her father lying next to a wheelbarrow, arrows in his back. His breathing was hard and jagged. Laid next to him was two men in red clothes. Ashloa looked up, his eyes dripping with tears from the pain of his injuries and the smoke puffing into the afternoon sky. He coughed, spitting out blood, as he held his hand out to Mae.

I am glad you were not here, he said with a dull tone as he grunts uncomfortably. I found them looting our things and tried to keep them out. I was glad you were not here, for if I found you like this, I would have lost my world, he sighed, his breaths becoming lower as Mae rushed to him.

The stranger looked at the two people embracing as a loud horn could be heard coming their way.

I…I don't know what to do, Father. Tears swelled in Mae's eyes as she tried to stop the bleeding in her father's gut. I am so scared. I am scared of losing you like Mom. I am scared of all of this, Mae shouted in fear.

Ashloa raised his left hand and placed it on her head. He smiled looking at his daughter as he shut his eyes.

Father…da… Mae stared at the man covered in mud and blood with her face swelling in a wave of uncontrolled emotion when the stranger tugged at her green and red shirt. The stranger shook with dread and let out a few words that snapped Mae back into reality.

We have to go. The stranger's soft and nervous voice came through as Mae could hear soldiers shouting and getting close.

Mae kissed her father on the cheek and stood up. She looked at the stranger still hiding under her green cloak. Mae looked to the wheelbarrow her father had used as a support in his final hours. She looked at the stranger and back at the wheelbarrow.

Get on this. I will push us down the orchard hills, then I'll jump in to get away, Mae said, more broken than ever.

The stranger stepped back with hesitation and looked at Mae. That doesn't look safe. The stranger's soft voice shook when she spoke.

We don't have much of a choice, Mae said coldly. Mae grabbed the stranger, heaving her into the wheelbarrow as she started to push it. She turned to see her home as she pushed the wheelbarrow down the hill. She looked at the afternoon sky turning to twilight. She looked to the sky with tears in her eyes as she saw the smoke of Komna coming from chimneys no more but from the fields and the homes of the people that once lived there. The smoke slithered into the sky like a great serpent to choke the clouds above like prey. Mae jumped into the wheelbarrow, and they bumped and tumbled into the forest line below the hill. They crashed, landing in a clearing with the fireflies dancing around the wreckage. Mae growled in pain as she tried sitting up. Her ears still darted back to the screams of her people, which swelled in her head. Mae looked around for the stranger and saw her sitting in the clearing. The sounds of the forest were peaceful after the madness they both went through. Mae walked to the stranger. The sounds of crickets playing their lutes and the chirping of the night birds calmed Mae in her loss. She moved to sit next to the stranger. Mae looking on her body for cuts and bruises with her focus turning to the stranger. She turned to make a conversation with her new friend in circumstance.

What will we do? I have no coin or items of value to trade. I feel you don't either, Mae said with defeat in her voice.

Mae looked at the stranger still sitting calmly as she looked away. The stranger hugged Mae, which threw her off completely, but she welcomed it because of the day she was having. What's that for? Mae asked, looking at the stranger hugging her.

I can feel their pain, miss. I can feel all their pain. When the flames licked at their heels, I felt it. Most all, I feel yours, she said with tears in her voice. I need to find my brother. He will know what to do, the stranger whispered.

Mae looked at the cloaked girl as she sighed. She turned to look at the wheelbarrow, now a ruined hunk of melt and wood. She turned back to the girl still hugging her.

Do you have an idea where your brother could be? Mae asked softly. She looked at the girl moving away from her.

The stranger stood as Mae did the same.

There's a tavern close to this place. My brother and I spent a night there before we parted ways. He told me that he would return if I entered that threshold. I think that's where we will find him, she said with a nervous pitch. Mae moved to the edges of the forest looking for ways out. She walked a few yards to the opening and found a cobble road. The stranger followed behind. Mae turned to her and asked.

What's the name of the place? I need a little more information than just a tavern in this hold, Mae said, walking ahead like her father used to do.

The stranger uttered out the name, The Drunken Jack.

Mae's hairs on the back of her neck rose up. The Drunken Jack was a place for outcasts or the everyday killer for hire. It was a tavern her father told her about—a place for the unwanted, a place for the lost. Sadly Mae thought, This fits the current situation. She walked not paying attention to the stranger as they made their way to the Drunken Jack.

Chapter 2

The Chill, the Stranger, and the Mortal

Mae walked ahead as the twilight faded into a dark overcast of night. The stars in the sky flickered with the moon glowing half as bright. Mae in her head was thinking of her lost home. She thought with ideas of dread that she had taken her home for granted. A safe place, she thought, now just a pile of ash in the wind. Mae walked like the dead out of tune with the world as she made her way to a fork in the road. The stranger looked at Mae with the same look she had when Mae stared at her father for guidance. The stranger looked at the sign then back to Mae.

What's it say? the stranger asked with a nervous tone, her hood bobbing as she spoke.

Mae looked back at the stranger and then to the sign as she read the words upon it out loud.

Little Root three miles from here, she said, still feeling broken to the world.

Mae stepped on the right path leading to Little Root as the stranger stopped her. The gentle small hands gripped Mae's right arm before she turned completely.

What now! said Mae with a bit of aggravation in her voice.

The stranger jumped back, fear filling her. She looked down then back at Mae.

We need to go this way. I remember the tavern over that clearing on the left, said the stranger as she walked away from Mae.

Mae walked to the stranger as they made their way to a large opening with trees encasing the road. Mae looked to see a large pine building with a wooden trim and moss growing all over it. On the top-right side bit of the roof was a large wooden donkey, with a sign hanging from it saying the Drunken Jack.

We made it, said the cloaked girl with a bit of joy in her voice.

Mae watched as the girl ran up the creaking wooden stairs to the front of the building. Mae looked around; she moved her head up to the side of the wooden building and to the windows that hung scarlet banners upon it like woven tapestries. She grew nervous as she knew what those banners were and how they stood for. Mae shouted to the girl, but it was too late. The girl opened the heavy door and went inside the tavern. Mae sighed as she thought to herself, I can leave this girl here. Her brother could find her and happy ending for them. She sighed as she made her way up the tavern steps, making the same creaking sound from before. She stood at the large wooden door, scared to open it. I can just leave this girl and find my own way, she thought. The idea kept dancing in her head like a wildfire. She had no emotional tie to this stranger. She thought hard about it upon her entering the building. She lifted the door with all her might and stepped inside.

The tavern was alive even for its out-of-the-way location. Mae scanned the huge open area of tables, her eyes landing on the hooded girl sitting at a table to the far right. She began to walk to her as she heard the sound of men and women chatting and laughing. The sound of the hurdy-gurdy bellowed out from the side of the fireplace as a bard played a tune on it. Mae felt fine in this environment almost safe as she met the girl at the table. Mae sat as the cloaked girl, still hiding her face, greeted her.

Came to wait with me in the warmth of the tavern, Survivor? she said with a mellow tone.

Mae looked at the girl. Her green cloak loosened on her, making it seem as if it were more of a blanket than a piece of clothing to wear. Mae looked at the residents of the tavern. She did not know if they were Bloodsheden or just passing through, but it made her feel uneasy.

A loud chime boomed as a plump man ran from the back room. He dashed past the girls as he placed a pint of ale on a table with a few residents that looked well off. He ran back grabbing a plate of cooked duck with leeks and honey dressing on it. He placed it for the ones that called for the ale. The plump man let out a laugh and walked back to the room that had all the supplies. He looked from the corner of his eye to see Mae and the stranger sitting at the table as he walked up to them to see what they wanted to eat.

Good evening and welcome to the Drunken Jack. I am Jack. I run this building, he said to the girls. His face was puffy and fat with a bit of sweat dripping down it. He had a balding head with a few scars dashing down. He looked at the two girls at the back table as he asked once more.

Look, girls, I have no time to waste. The outcasts here are thirsty and require my attention. I ask, Do you want any food to eat or drink to quench your thirst or mellow your hunger? he said with a more impatient tone.

Mae looked at the fat man and sighed. She looked down at her dirty pockets but knew she had no coin to spare.

Sir, we have no coin to pay for shelter or food. We are just resting to meet someone here. Please don't think of us as squashers, Mae said.

Jack looked at the girls covered in mud and ash. He leaned in close as he asked the hard-hitting question with a bit of a whisper looking down at the girls, Where are you from?

Mae with a bit of fear in her voice told him with hesitation.

Komna or I was, she said with a trembling voice.

Jack stood back up and looked over his shoulder. He turned back to the girls.

Aye, you must be hungry. I hear terrible things in this tavern, things that can make a man feel like real dirt because he is powerless to change it. Let me talk to the cook in the back. He left, walking to the back of his tavern to speak with the cook.

Mae turned her head to look at the men sitting at the farthest table. She saw blades and bows downed on the wooden stand as the men laughed and meddled with a local whore who lived in the tavern. She grew more nervous as one of them looked her way, locking eyes with her for a split second. He smiled at her in a drunken haze. Mae looked down, trying to avoid talking with them as the stranger poked her arm and smiled at her. Mae, still not knowing who this girl was, finally broke the ice that was freezing the conversation at hand.

I have been stuck with you, yet I don't know your name, Mae said, looking at the girl.

The stranger looked around, her cloak still hiding her eyes and somewhat of her face.

I am no one, she said with dread in her voice. She looked back at Mae as Mae stared back at her.

Oh really, and I am the Lord of Lothvail, she said sarcastically. Really, who are you? I feel like I know you, but it's hard to say because you're like a phantom in my mind, Mae said as Jack returned with a meal.

Veiclota offers his best to you. He's been in trying times after the invasions of Bloodshed too. I would have you say keep this on a low, girls. I don't want the other residents thinking am giving away free goods, but besides that, enjoy, Jack said with a smile on his face.

Mae looked at the meal in front of her as she attacked it like a beast. The chicken in her mouth was flung into her gullet. She didn't realize how hungry she really was. Mae ate and drank till she had to stop to take a breath. She looked over to the stranger staring at her from under her cloak.

What? Manners are for those that can afford it, Mae choked out from the food in her mouth.

The stranger looked at her then bowed her head. She placed her hands together as if she was praying.

Pray for thanks. This creature died to feed you. Let it know that it's not going to waste, the stranger said with a calm voice.

Mae looked at her meal and then went back to the girl.

Praying did not help my father when he was butchered by the scarlet wave, Mae hissed as she scarfed down more of her food.

I see your faith in the gods is waning, the stranger said, passing her food to Mae. I am not hungry, so have my meal.

Mae looked at the stranger and chowed down her food as well. She was almost finished as the drunken man from before staggered his way over to Mae and the stranger. Mae wiped her face as he stumbled into a seat next to her.

I saw you eyeing me, pretty, the man said in a drunken hiccup. I like when a lady looks me over, tells me that I am valued. He hiccupped some more.

Mae looked at the man and the blade at his side, his armor not that of Bloodshed.

I don't want any trouble, Mae said with a stern tone to the man.

The man looked back at his crew that he was drinking with then to the girls.

I see you have eaten, but have you got a drink of root ale in ya? he said, tumbling a bit. Look, I come for one thing, and it's to ask you fine ladies to venture over to our table. Come on, have a chat with some real men, he said, swaying back and forth.

We are quite fine here, sir. My traveling companion and I are just here to wait for someone. If this is a problem, we can leave to wait outside, the stranger said from under her cloak with a nervous squeak.

She stood up as Mae did the same. They walked only halfway to the door as the drunken man grabbed the stranger by the waist. She yipped out like a wounded dog as he placed her head on the side of the table. Jack walked out to see what was happening as he went to stop the man.

Oy! Jack shouted at the drunken man as his crew grabbed him with firm hands. They held him back as the man started to rip the fine cloth cloak showing the girl's underclothes.

The stranger let out a panicked and scared yell of fear as Mae rushed to aid her. Mae grabbed the blade from the man's side, but it was angled in an awkward manner with it falling to the ground. It let out a clank as it fell on the wooden floor of the tavern. The man looked up from her attempted deed. He hissed at Mae as she backed up with fear.

After my boys and I are done with this one, you're next in line, girly, he said with the worst of intent.

The stranger cried in fear of what would happen to her as a cold chill befell all the residents in the tavern. Before the man could do the act, a tall, slender figure stood at the doorway. All the candles of the tavern blew out as the tall figure slumped down to enter. It wore a long overcloak made of wolf's fur and patched with feathers of a raven. Its head was covered with a hood made of chain mail and woven with copper lining. It had a bow wrapped around its slim chest and had a quiver on its back. It walked in an unnatural, jerking manner as it held the only light in the tavern, a silver lantern in its hand that flickered and replaced the darkness like the very sun. The tall figure scanned the room. All the people gazed upon it with dread filling their bones. The being that stopped the madness walked further into the tavern with chilling dread as its eyes made its way to the stranger bent over the table.

What in the Void are you! the drunken man said, pushing the stranger aside to look at the tall being that had entered. The drunken man smiled as he wobbled back and forth. He bumped his head over to his crew that gazed at the being as well.

Ain't much of a talker, are ya! he said, looking back at his crew standing and looking at it with fear. I believe we got some kind of undead here, boys. The drunken man spilled. He looked at the tall being as he reached for his blade. He grabbed at an empty shelf and stared back at the being in front of him. He turned back to see his blade on the ground as the rest of his crew left Jack alone to join him. The tall figure sat down at one of stools and tapped its hands on the fine wooden table, not even paying attention to the small faction that grew behind it. It laid its lantern softly on the bar and looked to Jack. The being's empty black orbs stared at poor Jack, chilling him like a blizzard.

I would like to drink, barkeep. Its voice was cold and chilling with every word it spoke.

Jack, don't you get that damn thing a drink. I will, the drunken man shouted, stumbling to the counter as he pushed Jack aside.

The drunken man looked under the counter as he stood back up and pushed a flagon to the tall being as it sipped it down.

A great taste, right? the drunken man exclaimed, looking to his crew that was gathering behind the tall figure.

The stranger ran to Mae, who was watching in awe and horror at the sight. The stranger grabbed her and moved to the underside of a table.

Why are we under here? Mae said, confused at the stranger's action.

We must hide. The being at the bar is my brother, she said with fear and dread for the drunken man.

She said this as the being turned to look at the men that were standing behind it. Jack ran to the back room to wait out the conflict as the being spoke.

Humans, please I came only for my kin, he said, tapping his fingers on the table making a clicking sound.

The drunken man choked out some words as he gobbled back and forth.

I don't understand. That drink you had—it had so much nightshade in it that it could drop a horse. Why are you still sitting up? You should be on the ground heaving out your lungs, the man said as the tall figure stood over him and tapped his forehead.

I obey no laws of life nor death, the tall being said as the crew attacked him.

They beat and battered him as bone could be heard being broken and smashed. After their onslaught, the crew of men stood back, worn-out. The drunken man from before froze in fear as the tall figure stood back up cracking and bending his bones back into place.

What…are you? the drunken man spilled out as he fell to his knees.

The crew stood back looking at the beaten creature bending and twisting its bones back into place. Mae watched, feeling sick at the sight of it as it stood back up and smiled a broken grimness.

I always love introductions. The heretics of this world always seem to be surprised when I shout my name. I am the first winter calling back to the dawn of time. I am the dead silence before a storm. I am the hunt and the hunter. I am the wolf of your past, the hound of your present, and future not yet decided. You call me Ull, god of wintering decay! Ull shouted as he turned to the men around him; they ran out the tavern, leaving the drunken man on his knees.

No, it's not true. You're a myth, a fragment from the first age of darkness. The call of the forgotten ones said it in the atlas of souls. I…I can't believe you're real. Tears fell down the man's face.

Ull walked to him and placed his hand on his head. The man sat there as his skin became frostbitten with his body giving way and shattering.

Can a myth do that? Ull said with a cheeky tone as all the candles relit with him turning to the stranger and Mae who hid under a table.

The stranger rushed to her brother as Mae stood back, looking at them both. Ull looked at the girls with Mae turning her head to look down in dread.

What in the Void is happening? You're real, like all of you are real. I wish my father were here to see this. He would be so— She stopped looking at the stranger and Ull.

Ah, so what happened to the town our sister sent you to watch, Fawn? Ull spoke with a chilling voice.

Fawn removed her hood and looked at Ull. She had small antlers like an elk. Her hair was a bright amber with plants and vines growing all over it. Her eyes were bright green with tints of yellow, and she had a small puffy tail that she hid well from under the cloak.

Brother, I failed. I could not save them. Tears swelled in Fawn's voice.

What about her? I see that you saved one of the farmers of the great plains, Ull said, looking at his little sister.

She is not faithful, brother. I failed her, so she now forsakes us, Fawn said, looking at Mae.

"So is she a pet? I know