Tsuta was mesmerized by a hummingbird flitting among the blossoms of a large trumpet vine growing below the overlook when Usha burst around the corner, out of breath.

  “Raven! What are you doing here? What’s the matter?”

  Raven was the nickname he had given her due to her black, glossy hair, unusual for a dwarf.

  “Abbey attacked...fire…many dead,” she spat out between deep gulps of air, her hands braced against her knees as she doubled over from exertion. In only her fourth week, Usha and the other initiates hadn’t yet completed the rigorous physical training that was the cornerstone of Sifu’s curriculum.

  Tsuta handed her his waterskin, and she drank greedily. Her words came in clipped gasping bursts detailing the attack, the abbey’s status, and Sifu’s instructions between swallows. The bald monk displayed no outward reaction to her devastating news, instead fixating on the erratic undulation of sunlight dappling the overlook’s stone surface through the foliage overhead. His hand rose unconsciously to the medallion around his neck, tapping the points around its perimeter in a clockwise sequence. Realizing she had stopped speaking, he looked up to see her hands visibly shaking.

  Her face was contorted. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

  “Every word.”

  “Then how can you be so calm? These were your friends, your family.”

  Tsuta’s eyes dropped again to the sunlight patterns on the stone at his feet, watching it flutter, predicting its movements in advance. “We don’t know each other well, Raven, but you may have noticed, I don’t process things the same way as most other people.” His index finger reversed direction on the tines of the pendant. “The grief, the guilt, the regret, it’s boiling around inside my brain. Believe me, it will all come pouring out, at some point, when it’s ready.” He let out a long breath. “I came here hoping that mastering my Ki would help with that.” His lips puckered as he shook his head.

  “Was the gate open or closed?”

  “Open, I think, why?”

  “Because the abbey’s defenses are also my responsibility. So, if they were insufficient, then their deaths are all on me.”

  Her jaw dropped as one hand reached for his forearm. “No, no, no, no, don’t do that.” Usha watched his pupils dart back and forth, following a battle only he could see. The words spilled from her lips, somehow hoping to rescue the bald monk from himself. “No one had any warning. The gate was open. They were inside before anyone realized. Most of them never even got to a weapon.”

  Tsuta felt the quiver in her touch before he noticed her trembling lip. As usual, I’m making things worse. He put his hand over hers, ignoring the synaptic chaos firing around his brain. “It’s okay… Breathe… We’ll be all right. Sounds like the immediate danger has passed. To master your Ki, you’ve got to stay in control. Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.”

  The combination of his calm tone and the reminder of their core teachings seemed to help the younger dwarf. She drew a deep breath, cheeks ballooning in a long, audible exhale. Closing her eyes, she found her Ki, letting its pale white energy wash over her.

  Tsuta slung his pack over his shoulder and grabbed his staff before stopping abruptly at the top of the descending stairs. Puzzled, she watched him drop everything and move to the Beacon, pitching two logs and a blue sphere into the fire. He held her eyes as he spoke.

  “Duty first. Dangerous creatures have breached the pass; everyone needs to know.”

  Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Who are we telling? Everyone left at the abbey is well aware.”

  “The flare isn’t for us, Raven. It’s for all the other outposts up and down the mountain range, the Shan outposts in the valley, and the elves at Eredmire. These beacons are the early warning system for all of them.”

  She looked up, following his gaze. A thick ribbon of sparkling blue smoke belched from the chimney. Though she understood how the beacons operated, this was the first time Usha had seen one of the magical flares in action. The column of dark blue rose rapidly more than a mile into the air, straight as an arrow, unaffected by the breeze. Wrapped in a faint glow, the smoke was more luminescent than she expected against the overcast sky. They watched silently for several seconds before his voice brought her back to the moment.

  “I always wondered how the flares could be seen at night,” the high elf muttered idly, almost to himself. “There must be a light spell included in the incantation—see how the smoke glows?” He silently counted the five remaining flares, tapping his finger to each one before retrieving his pack and staff. “Let’s go get the others.” Not waiting for an answer, Usha scrambled after him.

  Quickly descending from the beacon’s plateau, the dwarf and elf pushed southeast toward their first destination, the central outpost. Tsuta knew the terrain well and took the lead, threading them three miles through the foothills of the Glimmerstones. Constantly visible in the distance on their left, the defeated stone structure of the Luminarium sighed a continuous trail of black smoke. The bald elf probed the initiate for more information as they walked.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “You said, creatures. What were they? How many?”

  “No one could name them.” Her voice wavered, barely audible. Her gaze stayed fixed on the path ahead. “There were two, and they must have been close to seven feet tall or more.” A shiver prickled her spine despite the warmth of the afternoon. “Slim build, almost like they were starving, just skin stretched over bone, it didn’t look natural…” She felt her heart begin to race. “And they had a hooked horn on top of their heads…” her voice broke, “…with wicked-looking claws on their hands and feet, and a long tail with a spike at the end.”

  “You’re doing great,” he reassured her. “I know reliving the moment is the last thing you want to do, but it’s important. Did they use weapons or magic?”

  “I didn’t see any weapons, so, magic, I guess, because they also set the whole abbey on fire.”

  Tsuta nodded, almost imperceptibly, before replying. “There had to be more than two if no one was left alive to tell us about it. That means there are others still out there somewhere. So, the question is—what were they after and where did they go?”

  By the time they reached the base of the stairs at the central outpost, the late afternoon sun had broken through the cloud cover. Tsuta paused to wipe the light sweat off his bald head. Usha, however, was not in the same physical shape as the elf. Plopping herself unceremoniously on the bottom stair, she lowered her head between her knees, sucking in several long breaths.

  “Tell you what, Raven,” his voice was sympathetic. “We don’t both need to go up there. You stay here, catch your breath; I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  The dwarf raised her head momentarily to meet his gaze with a look of unspoken gratitude. Wordlessly nodding and closing her eyes, she leaned against the plateau’s cool stone face as he moved past and up the stairs.

  The questions he hadn’t asked aloud, due to her fragile state, continued to gnaw at him. Something didn’t add up. If they came from the east, why no warning from Shan? He turned the problem over in his mind as he ascended. But if they came from Siremiria, one of the other outposts should have sent a flare. Someone, somewhere, must have seen them. Easily the most traveled among the abbey’s monks, he’d never even heard of any creature matching her description. Hooks on their heads?

  Despite an identical layout, the contrast at this outpost was grim. The smell of wood smoke hung heavily in the air, its haze shrouding the area. Tsuta froze as his gaze fell upon the cabin’s charred remains. He gripped his staff. To his left, the beacon was a pile of smoldering bricks and rubble. A familiar tingle of apprehension found a home at the base of his skull.

  He called out tentatively to the monks supposedly on duty. No reply. Holding his breath, he silently stepped around the front of the shelter’s remains to the overlook, staff at the ready. Scanning the interior, expecting corpses, he rapidly cataloged the discernible shapes: a blackened oil lamp, two charred packs, and the remains of a meditation mat. Empty. Where are they?

  Looping around the blackened hull, he cautiously inspected the beacon yard. He picked through the rubble with his staff, finding no sign of the occupants. The woodpile had been toppled; logs splayed across the ground. Slight movement on the ground caught his eye. What’s this?

  The clearing behind the beacon was teeming with ladybugs. Hundreds of them, frantically writhing and climbing over each other in a frenzy, blanketing the ground and the lower limbs of the trees framing the yard. That’s odd. The cry of a lone hawk circling above startled him back into the moment.

  It was logical to conclude, given Usha’s account of the abbey attack, that the hook-headed creatures had also been here, but where were his brothers?

  Puzzled, Tsuta returned to the overlook. He unconsciously fell into the watch routine—scan the pass, the mountainside, the peaks—desperate for any clue to understand how the outpost had been breached. Then he saw them. Oh no. His head swam. A wave of nausea swept over him as he braced himself against the railing. Directly below the overlook, lay two still bodies in the white robes of the Luminarium, limbs twisted, pointing in impossible directions, blood splattered across the rocky precipice that became their final resting place.

  He tapped the holy symbol six times to quiet the tempest raging in his mind. Taking a deep breath, he took in the grizzly scene a second time. On reflection, what he didn’t see troubled him most. Turning to the shelter’s footprint, he carefully picked through the rubble until he found them—the charred remains of two staves he knew to be the standard oaken issue of the Luminarium. How was it so fast that they couldn’t even grab their weapons?

  Pivoting back to the overlook, Tsuta studied its stone construction for any sign of a fight. Not a fresh gouge or even a scratch to suggest a struggle. Whatever happened here took the monks entirely by surprise. No chance they jumped. Something had thrown them from the overlook. Either way, they had to get to the southern outpost before darkness fell. Bundling the two blackened staves with his own, Tsuta raced down the stairs toward the resting dwarf below.

  Usha felt the vibrations of his return as she caught her breath, her dwarven senses finely attuned to stone and all its characteristics. Only one person moving quickly—that can’t be good. She rose, turning to face the stairs just as Tsuta came around the corner.

  “We’ve got to go, Raven!” he shouted as he closed the distance between them.

  “Why? Where are the others?” Her brow furrowed in confusion.

  “Dead. We’ve got to get to the southern Beacon before we lose daylight. We’ll need to run.” He had come to a halt beside her.

  Usha began to protest. “But I don’t think I can—”

  Before she could finish the sentence, Tsuta muttered words she didn’t understand, and his left hand began to glow and crackle. He placed his hand on her shoulder and released the spell, causing the dwarf to draw in a sharp breath as the healing magic coursed through her. The cold rush was pure exhilaration. Instantly, the ache in her legs and the burning in her lungs vanished. She felt fresh from a full night’s rest. Incredible! She had never directly experienced magic before. Despite the gravity of the current situation, an unconscious giggle escaped her lips from the arcane euphoria.

  Her expression momentarily twisted with anguish. “Sorry! I don’t know why I’m laughing!”

  He instantly dismissed her concern. “Don’t worry, it’s just a side effect of the spell. Better?” He asked, holding her gaze.

  “Wow. Yeah, I’m good!” she nodded, the unconscious grin returning to her face.

  With that, the two hurried into the lengthening shadows towards the southern outpost.

  The Glimmerstone Enigma and The Siremirian Conundrum?

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