Henry woke Joran just before dawn, rousing the others soon after. The wind helped cure their drowsiness as the black skies began to illuminate. They packed their belongings, ate stale bread alongside their carrot stew, then stomped the embers out until thick smoke rushed toward the heavens.

  Saddling their horses, they continued down Thios Path, a road that started in Thios Reach, which lay in southern Steerard. The road stretched across the country, first leading north, then bending west, before curving back toward the capital.

  “Why is this road so wide and smooth?” Serene asked, riding behind her father. “It’s made better than most roads in the capital.”

  “Observant as ever, Serene!” Joran laughed. “You’ve always been a keen one, haven't you?”

  “This is 'Thios Path,” Henry said, a proud smirk forming.

  “Long ago, when the land was ruled by King Thios Valdran, he tired of traveling from castle to castle and town to town on rough, bumpy roads. Those same roads were crawling with bandits, nosey merchants, and nomads that wreaked of piss. So, he poured a healthy portion of the Kingdom’s coin into building a road that stretched across all of Steerard.”

  “That must be why the capital’s guards pass by us once a day,” Elise reasoned aloud.

  “Indeed, that is why. It’s the safest road in the country,” Henry said, but Joran could feel his stare drilling into the back of his head.

  He had warned Henry years ago about the true nature of a hunter’s duty, and the role they played in protecting the land. It was, perhaps, the greatest secret the Court of All kept from its people.

  “Praise the gods for this road and the protection they’ve given us thus far,” the priest said, picking at an infected scab on his arm.

  “Yes,” Joran said, as a caravan of twelve men on horse emerged from the treeline ahead. “Thus far.”

  “Henry, help my daughter down off my horse. I’d like to talk to their sergeant before we continue.”

  Henry hopped off his horse and assisted Elise down. Henry knew Joran couldn’t speak freely with others listening, so he gave no protest. Joran encouraged the horse forward.

  They wore blue and black armor in varied assortments—the Court’s colors, which only southern hunter parties used.

  On their chest plates was the golden crest of the four gods: a sun at the top, a moon below, a blind-folded woman to the right, and a skull to the left.

  “Good morning to you all,” he said, his tone loud and assertive. “I am Joran Tarasian, Magistrate of Law and Justice for the Court of All. I’d like to speak to whoever is the sergeant of this party.”

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  The group whispered to one another as he approached, uneasy with his approach. However, upon hearing his title, they all bowed in unison, their shoulders relaxing.

  “Aye, I’m the captain of this band of misfits,” said a man, his Western-Steeradi accent as thick as his beard. “Sergeant Edrin. What can we do for you today?”

  “I’m traveling to visit some old friends in the northlands, but I’m curious what a group of the capital’s hunters are doing this far north, weeks from home. Have there been attacks out this way?”

  “Well, seven years ago, if you can recall, there was a small cottage in this area. A husband and wife disappeared in the night and were never found.”

  “Yes,” Joran said. “The parents of the young twins who made their way to the capital. I’m familiar with their situation.”

  “Of course, we can’t be sure, but it seems like a vayrel may have gotten them. All the northern hunters found by the time they got there were bloodstains on the trees, some here and there on the ground, but most of it washed away the month or so before they arrived.”

  He gave a quick glance at the hunters then lowered his voice. “What we do know is that someone died in those woods; there was too much blood loss for someone to recover from. Anyway, that was the first of many disappearances in the last seven years. In this past year, we’ve heard northern citizens talking of rumors that tall demons have been plaguing the surrounding forests.”

  “But is that not the job of the northern hunters?” Joran asked, tilting his head.

  “Well, that's just it,” The Sergeant sighed. “The northern hunters have lost too many to continue hunts. By the end of Spring, I reckon the recruits will have quite enough training. Once they are ready for the field, I can stop making this damn journey here and back,” he scoffed..

  “Fair enough. But in truth, the real reason I wished to speak with you, is to inquire if it’s safe ahead. I have my daughter and dear friends with me,” He gestured towards his group a hundred yards back, “and if there were dangers ahead, I don’t believe three men in their forties and fifties would be adequate protection for the children,” Joran admitted.

  “Aye, it’s plenty safe. We haven't seen any vayrels in the last few months, since our first ride out here, that is.”

  “Right. Well, I wish good fortune and the protection of the four gods for you, and your party,” Joran said, the tension in his jaw loosening.

  “Same to you, your lordship. Have a good day, be blessed,” Edrin said, nodding as he turned.

  As Joran approached his caravan, Henry asked, “What did the hunters say?”

  “I asked if they came across any bears or wolves ahead while hunting game,” he lied, masking his irritation. “Would be a shame to come all this way and be blinded by wild dogs, inches away from our destination.”

  It never sat right with Joran that the court refused to enlighten the country of vayrels. They are dangerous, but easy enough to control.

  Hiding their existence only allows more people to put themselves in danger. Rumors of demons that live in forests, caves, and underground plagued the country of Steerard, giving some insight to Steerardi’s, but the Court Of All had always declined any truth in the matter.

  “The entrance to The Shade is a few hours' ride from here. Let’s make haste so we may arrive before nightfall, ” Joran suggested.

  Henry helped Elise back onto her father’s horse, and they pressed onward into the morning as the sun inched its way above them. The temperature warmed, if only a little, as Ushil’s Watch moved along.