On the morrow, we did not speak for the entire day, nor the next, or the day after that. We simply travelled in silence, and if I was completely honest it was how I preferred it. The scenery was beautiful, and the West Ranges were dangerous beyond comprehension. There were rebels, dangerous beasts, treacherous paths and above all else lay the height.

The only relatively safe path through the West Ranges lay between two large forts. Both forts faced the Stormlands and both were manned by veteran soldiers. The forts were designed to keep anything that would escape from the rift within the Stormlands. They defended against anything trying to exit the region, and did not care about anyone wishing to enter. For all the care they showed about the Stormlands themselves, it was populated by the dead and dying and nothing else. For all intents and purposes, the kingdom had forgotten about us and left us to our own devices. We did not mind it, the taxes were non-existent and tax collectors themselves did not try to enter our lands. The forts themselves were funded by the kingdom, just in case anything happened. As I stated before, if we cared at all about it, we could have taken the kingdom for ourselves and ruled it, but we don’t care nearly enough. Life in the Stormlands is harsh and unforgiving, but that is how we all like it.

The guards at the first fortress didn’t even look at us as we made our way through the towering fortifications. This fortress was a full-fledged castle, with a moat, drawbridge and defensive walls. It is the last line of defense should the Stormlands and the first fortress fall to the hordes.

A line of caravans was held up at the gate to the mountain pass, it seemed as if one of the wagons had broken down and they were waiting for repairs to be finished before they continued.

When I spoke to one of the guards he informed me that they had been waiting for close to a week now. An avalanche fell while a caravan was passing though, and the resulting damage left the road clogged with over thirty broken wagons.

The soldiers were doing nothing to help clear this road, it was not their duty after all, and so it was left to the merchants themselves. Unfortunately that meant they needed to hire some muscle in order to clear the route.

I signalled the prince and we pushed our way to the front of the line, not many people are willing to stop a knight in full plate, let alone one mounted on a warhorse. A few muffled shouts and angry utterances followed our path to the front.

As we walked past the assembled guards, merchants and peasants, all of them anxiously waiting for the road to clear, I spotted a familiar face from the corner of my eye, but when I turned to see the figure more clearly, I was distracted by a loud scream coming from the front of the convoy.

I pushed people out of the way, or rather my horse did, and Prince Wulric did his best to follow suit as well. Our time on the road had changed him for the better, and he actually seemed concerned for the people on the trail.

As we made our way to the front, the scream grew louder and more soon joined in with the unholy chorus of pain and suffering. Before I even saw what was happening I knew what it was.

“Skrag.” I muttered under my breath. With a swift motion I jumped off my horse and shouted to the prince to stay with them and to wait for the screams to stop before he followed me.

My feet pounded on the ground, and my drawn sword was a beach to the wave of humanity trying to force me back. It pushed me but I did not break, and the wave parted to either side when they saw I would not be deterred.

As they finally came into view I saw the remnants of those they had slaughtered in their path. Blood and entrails littered the rocky ground beneath my feet and I could barely remain standing from the gore. I caught the first Skrag unaware and my blade passed cleanly through what I only assumed was its neck. As soon as it died, the unholy wailing grew fainter and the others immediately turned to face me. I do not remember how many there were, nor do I rightly know how I killed all of them, but I do remember the rage taking over me once more. It had been years since I succumbed to the anger that dwells within me, but the sight of the slaughtered bodies slowly being consumed by the beasts were too much for me.

I remember the fatigue in my bones as I sat on the bloodied and soaked stone. The pain within my clenched fist as I held on to my blade with a death grip. The soreness in my muscles from the slaughter I wrought upon these beasts. I remember the looks on the faces of those who were saved by my actions, and the fear behind their eyes as they beheld the monster I held tightly caged within my breast. I remember all this, yet I do not remember killing the beasts.

Prince Wulric came forth, leading the horses with their reins held tightly in one hand. He spoke a few times before I hurt him, and before I even realized I was injured. I looked down to my side, to the talon protruding from a small gap in my breastplate and pulled it out. I forced myself to my feet, my hand pressed tightly against my side and tried to smile.

“It’s not all that bad.” I forced from my throat. The words barely loud enough to be heard over the cries of pain from those I saved from death only to face a life of pain and sadness. I took a step forward, almost stumbling to the ground, and another before the stone rushed forth to meet me.

The next thing I remember was waking up with people pawing at my armor, and then once more to the shouts and cries of someone I remembered but could not place. I remember being pinned down as pain caused body to contort and thrash and then nothingness.

Oh, I dreamed vivid dreams of monsters, blood, pain and death. Of love lost and forgotten, of honor betrayed and broken. I dreamed all of this and more, but I do not remember waking from those dreams. All I know is that the dreams were there, and then they were not.

The prince, to his credit, was there when I woke. A smile graced his face when he saw my eyes open and I laughed.

“You’re still here Prince. You stayed even though you could have left and there would have been nothing I could do to stop you.”

The Prince chuckled as well, joining in on my mirth. “You might not have been able to stop me, but you would find me no matter where I went. I’m not fool enough to think I can hide from you. Besides, after seeing what you did to those things, I’m not sure there’s a safer place on the entire continent than by your side.”

I blinked a few times, trying to clear the cobwebs from my head. “Where are we?” I tried to say, but could only manage a weakened “where” before I was graced with a fit of coughing. The prince tried to hand me a cup of water, but I pushed his hand aside, grabbing the pitcher that was by my head and gulping it down greedily.

“We’re in an empty fort at the other side of the pass. I had no idea there were ruins here, though this fort looks as if it was only recently abandoned.”

Ruins? I thought to myself. There are no ruins in the valley. The only thing remotely close to one is the fortress at the entrance to the Storm Lands. With this thought in my mind, the realization slowly dawned upon me. The fortress had been abandoned, that’s the only thing that would make sense. That’s the only reason that the Skrag would have made it this far from the rift.

“Where is everyone? Where’s the caravan leader? I need to talk to him”

The prince could see that I was distressed, but would not let me rise, and judging by how difficult it was to actually get up off of the cot, I could not fault him.

“I’ll be right back, I’ll get him for you. Just get some rest Ser Francis.”

When I next awoke there was a swarthy, middle aged man with many rings and necklaces adorning his body standing before me. His clothes was obviously very expensive, and some of it was bejeweled with precious stones and metals. He opened his mouth to speak, but I interrupted him before he had the chance.

“Were the gates closed when we arrived?”

The man looked slightly insulted but upon seeing the look on my face he held back in indignation and answered me.

“No they were not. Is there something wrong?
“Were there any bodies? Did you see any blood?”

The man, again swallowed his outrage and answered me.

“There were no bodies and no blood. What is the matter?”

I waved him away and asked one more question.

“Were the torched burned out or were they extinguished?”

The man could not hold it in any longer and began to speak. “Listen here!”

The prince cuffed him on the side of the head, and when the man raised a first to strike him back, he hit him again. “Ser Francis saved your life and the life of many people not a week ago. Answer his questions!”

Upon hearing my name, a look of recognition dawned on his face. If he traded at all regularly with the Storm Lands, he would know who I am.

“I apologize My Lord. The torches were burned to a small nub. As if they were left unattended for days.”

Relief swept through my body, and my muscles relaxed. Good, then they haven’t broken through yet.

The merchant was waiting patiently, stealing glances at the prince who stood just behind him with his arms crossed. When did this happen I wonder? What made him change his opinion so much?

“May I speak My lord?”

I nodded, my eyelids growing heavy once again. “Make it quick, I don’t know how much longer I can stay awake.”

The merchant waited a few seconds before speaking. “What were those things? Why can’t I remember anything about them? “

I swallowed to clear my throat before beginning. “They were Skrag. We aren’t sure what they are, because as you said, we cannot remember what they look like. They are abominations of the worst sort. Thousands of peasants die from them each year in the Storm Lands, and dozens of the Guard. They normally roam in packs of two or three, and never this far from the rift. Never. The fortress we currently sit in should have been manned by guards at all times. There should be no reason for their disappearance.”

“I can answer that for you My Lord. Around four years ago there was a small rebellion in the Range, and once the dust settled, there weren’t enough people left to man this fort. The Viscount decided it’d be better to just leave it for whoever wanted it. We’re just lucky some of the bandit tribes haven’t moved in yet.”

“Just a civil war. Good. That’s much better than the alternative.”

The next thing I knew we were on the road again and I felt much better. There was a new face sitting beside me in the cart, staring down at me. I knew this face, and it had been weeks since I saw her.

A smile graced my face and at first I could not believe she was actually there.

“Sofia, what?”

I meant to say more, but I simply could not think of the words. My mind was racing at the speed of light, hundreds of questions racing through my head, all of them trying to force their way out of my mouth, but only one managing to.

She placed her hand upon my right, my sword hand, and spoke softly. “I only came to say hello. After I saw what you did, after you did what no one else could and what I could not even attempt, I knew I had to say hello before I left. I took your advice, I’m joining the Storm Guard. I left that day I met with you. I’m sorry I didn’t come to spar with you, but I could not risk changing my mind.”

I clasped her own hand in mine and looked into her eyes. I could see the resolve she had for this, and the shame she felt at being unable to help those people. “The Rift is no place for the weak hearted, but you are not weak. You are a strong and very capable woman and I am sure you will rise in the ranks quickly. But if I may make a suggestion?”

She stared at me as if she wanted to tell me something very unkind, but in the end she did nod slowly.

“Request to be placed in the Vanguard upon the completion of your training. The Vanguard are responsible for patrolling the land and protecting those who live there as well as hunting down the most dangerous of the creatures that make their way through the front lines. This way as well there will be a much smaller chance of coming face to face with Wulric.”

She smiled and thanked me. I wished her well in the coming weeks for I knew they would be very difficult. The Storm Guard are a crucible, one that breaks all too many good men and women. She knelt down and gave me a small kiss on the forehead and left without another word. It would be months after that meeting before I found out what eventually happened to her. �����{��0�,��