"How many Prettannic towns can you fit in this forest?" Kirk scratched his head when he scouted the span of the Antikwald from a hilltop.

  "If we give no space to the trees, there's enough for nine of them." Macario's ethereal body floated above the wanderer.

  "Let's see..."

  He pulled out a rolled map from his pack. The traveler's focus was on a large rounded symbol at the northern edges, a few degrees to the center. Kirk stood up and dusted the dirt off his pants; he took up the rucksack on the ground and slung it on his shoulder. Lastly, he grabbed the iron stick that leaned beside him. He looked to his left and said:

  "Our fortunes are bound to change, my ghostly friend. There's a large city just half a day's walk from this hill."

  "Is this another of your 'if we go straight'... conditions, only to get us lost and stay in these woods for more than a day?"

  "Of course not."

  Kirk's eyes were on the ground ahead. The only obstacle that stopped him from taking a straight path was a whitewater stream that lay almost halfway to the city.

  "It has come to thought that if you really wanted to get to where you wanted to go that fast, why didn't you hire the services of this country's flying machines?" Macario followed behind his master, who started to slant his legs downhill. "I've seen one of those imposing, large... ships go by hours ago."

  "They are fast, right..." Kirk stopped in the middle of the slope to look at the sky. "...but I ran out of Marks, and I don't think I have anything else besides rubies. I think we both know that right now, we are too far to get to a jeweler to sell one of the rubies. Besides, don't you think we can charter one of those because of where we are...?"

  "We are standing in the middle of nowhere after all." Macario paused; his spectral visage faded and reappeared. He resumed following his master, who went ahead and prodded a dying, brittle bush out of the path. "Why all the effort getting to this 'city very far south', as you told me earlier?"

  "I need my army, or rather, get their help on how to raise one." Kirk took a step into the forest canopy and paused to look at a seemingly endless net of tree roots and damp earth ahead of him. "Also, I may have to admit that I would like to see her, again."

  "Whoever this person is keeps you going, Master. Interesting." Macario's voice hollowed out as he and Kirk entered the dark wood.

  "She's special in a way - a strange one whose eyes were as cool as a silent sea." Kirk's voice mellowed out; his eyes were still on the forest floor, prodding his stick before making a step forward. "I was twelve when her family was the ambassadors of... it was what Mother and Father called a knowledge exchange program between Kriemreich and the Grand Prettan."

  He went on, thrusting the stick and making sure the earth could hold his weight before he took another step deeper into the Antikwald. "If you think about it, I'm banking this entire journey on winning their good graces."

  "Entertain me, Master Kiergaard. This walk will be a long bore without these stories. Besides, it has been centuries since somebody offered me this kind of talk."

  "I know, it was a quick glance, but I'm never forgetting it." Kirk's shoulders sagged as he stopped in the middle of a narrow dirt path. "It felt like she looked into my soul, or maybe it was I looking back."

  "All this because of those eyes?" The hollow in the revenant's tone somewhat deepened before he let out a short guffaw. "This woman must be very exquisite for you to go this far."

  "But I'm going to hate myself thinking that she's wed to someone else in these lands. It's the way things are." Kirk looked back at the hill he had descended from. "Besides, the last of the Windstorm family, who is also thrown out of his birthplace, isn't so appealing."

  The wanderer took a long sigh and took the path to the right. He stopped going further when he heard gunshots and the sounds of unintelligible growling and grunting.

  "What kind of game would make a hunter struggle like that?"

  "It could be a battle, Master Kiergaard."

  "Let's see if they need help."

  "I strongly advise to-"

  Kirk went closer to the source of the sounds. Sounds of frantic leg movements, something hitting flesh, and gunfire were clearer to him, but were still vague in thought. He zigzagged from one tree trunk to the next. The traveler could have stomped on fallen branches, and he still would not have been recognized by those trapped in the fighting.

  He was about to approach the last layer of trees covering a clearing when a concentrated, brilliant line screeched ahead. Kirk looked at the perfect space the light made; some of the treetops fell after much of their trunks were erased. He almost stumbled at the sight of treetops that stood still in space for a moment, only to crash to the ground. Kirk froze from where he lay; nothing would have been a safe place to hide if that brilliance struck where he stood.

  "This empire... how did it secure a weapon like this?"

  "Weapon, Macario?"

  "There are some things meant to be forgotten, Master Kiergaard."

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  "Whatever that thing did brought some kind of memory to you. Well, can't say I'm surprised when ancient ghosts speak of strange things."

  He was about to enter the clearing when he glimpsed a creature struck by the same beam as before. There was a hole where the impact took place, but nothing was pushed into it. The smell of heated earth jolted out of the cavity. Kirk wondered if the animals inside this forest looked remotely like these creatures. They resembled walking shadows when seen from a distance, until their ugly details were seen up close.

  The last of the hostile entities was swept out of existence with an arc of that dreadful light array. Only the bare soil left in its wake was the reminder that something used to stand on it. Kirk heard two voices as he went near a patch of bare ground that had thick foliage before. They sounded unmistakably human, but how could at least one of them wield a might that should have belonged to a deity?

  "...forgive me."

  "...going to be okay, right?"

  The remaining sinews of a tree behind Kirk snapped. It fell to where he hid, causing him to roll out of cover and into plain sight. He was on his knees in front of two people. The boy in a long, black coat stood up and glared at the new addition. Behind him was a woman in what looked like religious garb; much of her sleeve concealed her face. Above her were floating orbs that looked like pocket-sized suns.

  "Don't move." The boy had a gun aimed at Kirk; he heard a weak click. That did not matter, for he knew it was ready to fire at a moment's notice. "You sent these creatures after us, didn't you?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  Kirk saw one of the nearby carcasses. This monster had its chest blown off, probably by this boy's gun. It had features shared with more than one animal. He did not delve into animal books at any time in his life, but he was certain these creatures did not belong anywhere else on the continent. He threw his stick a little distance in front and raised his hands, saying:

  "You're not going to believe me if I say I just happened to pass by, but I'm not coming out of this alive between your gun and your friend's floating stars. Can we at least talk about this?"

  "We'll talk, starting with 'why are you following us', and 'who sent you and these monsters'."

  "You got quite the tongue in you, boy." Kirk stood up using the least movement. The boy's weapon was still aimed at his head. "I have nothing to do with these creatures, I swear on my life."

  "Wait. Please. There's no need for any more violence."

  The overdressed woman's voice was broken, almost stuffed-sounding. She was almost as bright as the fearsome spheres that protected her. She stood in front of the boy, her back facing her hostile companion, before she glided her fingers on the aimed gun's barrel. Swallowing hard to clear something in her throat, she said:

  "I want to believe you have nothing to do with this, but I'm afraid you'll have to come with us."

  "But... Euphemia?" The boy did not resist his companion's touch, letting her lower his pistol.

  "I ask of you. Please give us your other belongings."

  "You're a reasonable one." Kirk slid the strap of his pack off his shoulder, tossing it to the ground in front of the two.

  "Is there a need to confront them, Master Kiergaard?" Macario appeared beside him as a shimmering blue fireball.

  "No. At least not yet. You've seen that light making everything disappear. I'm not risking us against that."

  The spheres retreated and disappeared into the woman's sleeve. No wonder her dress covered everything but her face, he thought. She slung the pack on her shoulder, showing a slight struggle in lifting it before taking the iron stick. Taking a few steps back, the woman instructed:

  "If you will, walk in front of us. We'll tell you when to turn."

  "Don't get it wrong." The boy was snappy – he talked again with a snarl, "I still think these- you're the one behind these monsters. Try anything on us and-"

  "Let us go." It was strange to hear two people who looked at this situation differently, yet there was hardly any conflict between them. "We may not know if the night has more of these creatures waiting for us."

  "Some arrangement you got here, but I've no choice but to play along." Kirk's empty palms were still raised, though his shoulders slackened.

  "We are forced to do this to free you of suspicion." The woman was in no hurry to walk. "We'd rather let you be on your way, but this is an unfortunate circumstance we are in."

  "If you don't mind, are those... animals, common in this forest?"

  "I have never seen them before. Only today," she replied, only to fire back a question at Kirk. "You are not a local, are you?"

  "No. I... just got here. " Kirk lowered his hands. "I came from a land farther north of this country."

  "Nice try changing the topic." That voice. The traveler, now becoming a prisoner, did not have to look back to know what the boy was still thinking of him. "You're not sad your 'pets' are gone?"

  Kirk shook his head before saying, "I'm actually sad that you'd even think they're mine, and that I raised them as pets."

  ????

  Kirk was led to an empty village filled with mostly unfinished cabins. Only the church that stood slightly elevated from the place was livable. He was brought to a small house beside the grounds, where he was served soup and potatoes, as well as a piece of grilled fish that had turned cold. His belongings remained with the gun-toting boy, who was absent when Kirk was asked to sit at a dining table.

  "You must be hungry from your travels." The woman faced him; he didn't mind lowering his guard in front of her. "This is far from a filling dinner, but it should last the night."

  "So, you're in charge of this church?"

  "Interesting that you think that way." She smiled as she took a seat with a piece of bread in hand. "I'm only tasked with watching over this place until the local priest arrives."

  "I see. It must be lonely with only you and your friend in an empty place like this." Kirk took a spoonful of potato to his mouth, squashing it with his tongue and palate. "We have priestesses where I'm from, so I thought it would be the same here."

  "It would make sense, seeing that your outfit has traveled quite far with you." Her head made a small tilt, concealing much of her upper face. "I apologize for our conduct, but the manner you have arrived here... we have to resort to this treatment."

  He felt no hostility in her – or perhaps she was one of those deceptive beings that erased an existence without feeling anything. But Kirk saw her teary-eyed. Accidental or intentional, hers was a kind of power that easily disposed of anything it aimed at. He wondered if his journey southward met its end here. Of all places where he had to fight or die, it had to be near a church.

  Kirk set that thought aside. Though these dishes lacked spices, there was something in the preparation that made them appealing to his tastes. How would he pray to whoever god Kriemreich's locals prayed to? Perhaps this woman, whom he assumed to be part of the local clergy, could be appealed to.