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Between Winters

By Glycanthrope

Part XI

Response and Responsibility

The journey so far had proven profitable for Fairfell the book trader, with locals buying and selling second-hand books at every stop along the route, but now the trade caravan rested a short distance from the village of Flatmount, and Fairfell left the stand to relax in his wagon. "We can take a few days off", he said and gave Rhania a myopic glance through spectacles balanced on a wolven muzzle. "The locals of Flatmount are vitellium miners, and don't know how to read". Fairfell had travelled this route for so many years that he knew by heart all the places along the route where business was plentiful -and Flatmount was not one of them. They were in the mountainous southern area of Namairith and the trails were narrow - much too narrow for the trade caravan to pass in anything but single-file, and Flatmount was a village too small to connect to a proper trail.

With a satisfied yawn, he snuggled into his hammock and turned his attention to the final chapters of Casus Exeteri. Originally he had priced the book at one silver coin, but he had recently reduced it to five coppers, as it dealt with odd things that were to happen in a far future, and he judged that there was no market for this type of fiction, but he still felt obligated to finish it -just in case anyone asked.

"What can I get for this one?", asked a young half-elf who had appeared unnoticed and unexpectedly, and she produced a small leather-bound book from her backpack. Rhania placed a few books on the shelves for display with an "I'll be right with you", before turning to greet the new customer.

Rhania accepted the book from an outstretched hand, with a combination of surprise and curiosity. It was an ancient looking copy of "Hymns to the Goddess by Aldric of Scathsolas", written by a badger-kin more than a thousand years ago. It was a popular collection of hymns to the main deity of the badgerkin, and Rhania was mystified why a half-elf would own a copy of it unless she studied ancient history - something that seemed unlikely in this part of the land. "We already have two copies of this", she was about to say when a sudden sensation of pale green velvet shot through her hands and embraced her mind with an unusual strength that turned her speechless for seconds, and she recognised the magic watermark sealed into all books stored in the library of Tamaria.

"This must be the thief who found the library", Rhania realised and stared into the face of a girl who could be no older than herself. Her eyes and clothes were both the colour of oak leaves, and she looked as if she could easily blend into the forest and remain unseen, which would not have been without reason as selling books imbued with the magic watermark of Tamaria was deeply criminal and punishable by lengthy prison terms.

The half-elf made no mention of the fact that there was anything magical to the book. Maybe she didn't know - or didn't care, but it was for certain that she knew where the library was, and that this book came from that very place.

"She's in a situation not unlike my own", Rhania thought -alone, scared and in desperate need, yet the book in question was not an unusual find; Rhania had seen this particular volume several times before, and by its abundance it was worth only a few silver pieces, but the half-elf gladly accepted the pittance and promptly disappeared coin in hand, before Rhania had the chance to bring up the burning question of the whereabouts of the ruins.

Rhania could not help wondering, why the thief only came to sell the most common of books, and sometimes it seemed that she kept bringing the same book over and over. Maybe the girl couldn't read, thought Rhania, and simply didn't know what she brought back from her private visits to the library -or maybe Victor and Sebastian had been wrong all this time and there was no dark and powerful magic stowed away in Tamaria at all, but only the same tired old books that you could find in any mage's school.

Still, she had promised Victor to seek the place out, and both Ashford and Snowheart were excited by the prospect of leaving the caravan in search of adventure. The elven girl had been on foot, and Rhania figured that the library ruins had to be nearby. She made a quick excuse to Fairfell and headed back, book in hand, to their shared wagon.

---

"You must be out of your mind!", said Snowheart and pointed at Ashford with the copy of "Hymns" as were it an extension to his paw; "you cannot bring a four-year-old troll-cub with you on an expedition like this".

The three friends had spent most of the morning together, studying the local maps that Sebastian had given Rhania, and Ashford was very eager to go out and explore right away. K'luul proposed a problem though. She was too young to ride alone, and would be doomed if any accident should happen to them in the mountainous area.

"Ulmus and myself could see her to the goblin city of Staldr", the voice of Ulgis creaked through the excited planning, "she can stay with us until you join us".

Since the day where K'luul and Ashford had joined the caravan, a warm and almost grand-parental relationship had developed between K'luul and the aging goblins. Ulmus would repeat his favorite stories from his past, or those of his ancestors - he sometimes got the two mixed up, while Ulgis doted on her with dried goods from their shop.

Ashford thought well about the offer; in many ways, the aging goblins seemed more alive and caring than Ashford's own parents had ever been. Worn down by the chemicals used in the tanning process, they had grown increasingly weak and blind over the years, but they had still expected Ashford to follow in their footsteps until that night where he had taken their only horse and left his life behind.

"If she ever finds out that it was I, who killed her mother, she will despise me forever -and then some", he thought and realised that this was the last thing he wanted to happen. He had grown so accustomed to repressing any memory that was painful or embarrassing, that he had no troubles burying the day where he entered the troll cave, the sight of the brood-mother cuddling her dead child before launching into a grief-stricken attack on the only human that happened to stand nearby

-and how he drove his sword through her.

"You are right", he said to Snowheart with a sigh, "It would be too risky to take her along". He held up the tiny troll-girl and kissed her forehead. "I love you, sprout", he said.

"I love you too, papa", she replied. By reflex, Ashford was about to shout an objection, but hesitated - the words weren't there anymore.

---

The old maps proved very helpful. They only showed the location of the library relative to the closest area, but almost every map showed a forked rock formation that the friends soon coined "the devil's fork", which they located in the mountains a few miles west of Flatmount. The ride was slow and laborious and their rounceys struggled to ascend the rocky paths; for paths there were, old, unkempt and cluttered with centuries worth of debris and fallen rocks. Forgotten by most and ignored by the illiterate miners of Flatmount, the ruined library of Tamaria made no objection to being rediscovered, and without fanfare or obstruction, the three friend found the abandoned building, silent and almost covered in boulders and debris. Only the front third of the construction was still visible.

"We're here!" Rhania set one paw on the first of three steps that led into the library ruins. The once sturdy wooden door that had protected the library from uninvited guests had all but disintegrated into a few boards bound together with metal reinforcements. Now it stood open and creaked softly in the warm wind. The entrance was carved into the mountainside itself, with two carvings resembling ionic columns flanking the entrance. Rhania climbed the three steps then peeked into the darkness inside.

"I don't hear any noises that shouldn't be there", she called back to the others. "Snowy, what do you sense?".

Snowheart joined Rhania and sniffed at the stale air flowing out from the inside. "Dust mainly, rodents and the fading scent of a humanoid. Apart from the thief, this place has not seen visitors for many years".

Ashford watched the two beastfolk in silence. He trusted their acute senses and prepared torches for the three of them. Rhania was the first to enter the building with Snowheart and Ashford close behind. The library laid dusty and untouched by any hand save that of time and thief, and only a faint series of footprints in the dust revealed recent disturbances by the elven library guest. The main corridor was flanked by a library hall to the left and a few living quarters to the right, all illuminated only by the scattered rays of sunlight that penetrated the windows almost blocked by boulders.

"You know, I think that I had expected something... grander". Ashford held his torch high and to his disappointment, the plain hall did not live up to the cathedralic size that he had fantasised about.

Snowheart put out his torch and nocturnal eyes soon adjusted to the dim light. "The legends all give the impression that this was a formidable work of construction, filled to the brim with all sorts of wonderous books, but this looks more like our council hall back in Badgers Rest". He picked up a book from a half-empty shell and sneezed loudly, "-only dustier!" The sound of the sneeze echoed through empty halls and the companions suddenly felt very alone.

The bookcases were arranged in parallel on each side of the hall, ten in all. Each bookcase held five shelves, with each shelf containing approximately fifty books. Some were still readable but most had disintegrated into fragments over time. "There must be a thousand books here", said Ashford. "Are you going to do your magic thing on all of them? It's going to take forever".

Rhania had not realised the sheer scope of the task and she shook her head. "It all happened so quickly. One moment Vic was all It's such a waste of time and the next moment he was going burn the whole thing down - and that was while I was being kicked out of Oakenford".

Snowheart began to read the titles of the books that he came across on the shelves. "There are five copies of one book over here, The Poetic Mage - a collection of poems about magic".

"I've seen a lot of these in Victor's library", Rhania quickly skimmed shelf by shelf for anything out of the usual but found little of interest.

"All the books are pretty standard...", said Snowheart. "I'm sure that they all carry the magic watermark, so I doubt that you'll need to detect magic on them, but honestly I don't think that Victor has a whole lot to worry about."

"This is the book that Ted Arbinger used to teach himself magic", said Ashford and held up a ragged copy of the Artem Ignis.

"You know Ted Arbinger?", Rhania stopped her search and sent Ashford a puzzled look.

"We roomed together back at the fort, what about him?" he shrugged.

"I've met him, he's Sebastian's apprentice in magic."

"...except THIS one", Snowheart leafed through a small tome, bound in black vellum. "There's only one copy of this one". He snapped a quick breath, "by the ears of Inaris! If this knowledge leaks out... may the gods protect us all!" He held the book at an arms length as if trying to shield himself from some unseen power radiating from it. Rhania and Ashford stopped dead in their discussion and turned their attention to Snowheart, who placed the book on the crumbling remains of a desk, with the greatest of care. "Only someone who is incapable of channeling magic could safely read the dark secrets within", he said and took a few steps back. "I believe that mastering this, could prove the most powerful force in the realm".

Blue gaze met yellow gaze as Ashford and Rhania took turns looking at each other for a few uneasy moments. "I guess that would be me", she said, "you might just set it off by reading in it". Step by step, she inched closer to the forbidden tome until she was close enough to read the title.

"Fifty recipes for love potions" she read aloud. "Rot your ears, you flea-ridden offspring of a human!", she cursed and threw the book at the laughing badger. It sailed through the air with pages flapping like a wounded bird, before hitting him square in the chest. "Oh sweet Iuna, I can't breathe!", he laughed and clutched his chest. He let himself fall backwards onto the stone floor, sending clouds of dust airborne. "-is there a healer in the house, I've been struck down by the mightiest force known to beastkind!"

In all the time that they had known each other, Ashford had never heard the badger laugh. The sound did not resemble any human laugh, but was a series of short growls. Rhania laughed along with him in her familiar happy vulpine bark, and the sound of their laughter reverberated through the empty halls. This time, the rumbling echoes dispelled the uneasy stillness of the desolate library, and for the first time in a millennium the silence was broken by the sound of life.

Ashford realised that he was now the odd one out. Rhania and Snowheart had each other now, and it wasn't just friendship between two beastfolk. Ashford had fallen in love so many times before that he instantly recognised the head-over-paws happiness that the two beastfolk shared right now. "You're losing your best friend now, buddy", and he knew that once they had finished searching the library, his two friends would want to be alone and enjoy the love that they had found in each other, and that he would be back to drifting once again.

---

The bright flames of the campfire made a welcome change to the day's worth of grey dimness within the library ruins. Broken furniture and shelves now served as kindling and released nimble shards of fireflies that rose and added themselves to the starry patterns before burning out moments later.

"Let's go for a final look tomorrow", said Rhania. "then we'll pack up and head back."

"I guess that there is no need to burn any of the books then", said Snowheart and leafed through a thin volume bearing the title "Fumes of Formation". "Except this one", he said. "The world could go on without this one".

Rhania stirred in the bowl of stew that cooked on the campfire. "I don't think that I actually believed that we would ever find this place. Victor and Sebastian just kept talking and talking about it and I thought Hey, here's my golden opportunity to get away from all that potion making".

"You didn't have much of a choice", said Snowheart. "You and every other beastkin were expelled from the city, and the guards have now been instructed to arrest any beastkin that tries to re-enter Oakenford."

Rhania shrugged. "I guess that I just tagged along quietly so that I could get to travel and see the world".

Ashford yawned, "We better get some sleep. We have a long day ahead of us".

Rhania grabbed the "_fifty recipes for love potions"_that she had taken along with her. "I can always read you guys a bedtime recipe", she laughed. "If the potions are so potent, why do they need more than one recipe anyway?"

Snowheart leaned back and looked up to the blurry mass of light that was the sky and the fuzzy ball of wool that was the moon. He took out a length of cloth and began to wipe a dark stain off his shirt. "You're bleeding", noticed Rhania. "Are you hurt?"

"It's not blood, but winterberry juice". Snowheart unbuttoned his shirt and took out the pouch of winterberries that he carried around his neck. "I always keep them with me when I go on a journey, and when you threw the book at me, it crushed some of the berries. They are always fresh, thanks to the magic of old Turfdigger."

"No fox has ever been able to channel", said Rhania. "We're a bit like dwarves that way".

"I don't think that you should go back to Victor right away", said Snowheart, "with the current situation in Oakenford you might get arrested for trying to enter. Why not stay a while in Badger's rest?"

The thought had already crossed Rhania many times. Between the choices of risking a return to Oakenford or moving back to her old village of Stromm Clearing, staying with the badgers seemed the most inviting option. She reached out and paw met paw, muzzle rubbed muzzle and in that instant, their souls embraced. "I think I'm in love with a very special fox", said Snowheart. Rhania nodded quietly and enjoyed his embrace and pressed her cheek to his chin. The moon stood high before the two beastfolk drifted off to a restful sleep.

---

When Ashford woke, Rhania and Snowheart were still asleep and cuddled up in each other's arms. "nocturnals!", he mumbled and began to pack his horse. They had reached their destination and it had turned out to be a great disappointment - having found nothing of value nor interest.

Together the re-entered the ruins for a final visit. "I'll bring a few volumes back to Sebastian". Rhania stuffed a handful of the smaller books into her knapsack. "It'll break his heart to know that there was nothing special here, but at least, he'll have something".

Four smaller rooms connected to the main hallway. The furniture that had once served in what looked like living quarters had almost crumbled to dust, with nothing left to tell the tale of the rise, fall and disregard of the once prized library, or of its nameless curators. The third of the living quarters was smaller than the others, and the only one without a window. It was taken up mainly by a table and two chairs, all of which were still standing. "Good stock", said Snowheart and patted one of the chairs. "It's all made out of ironwood".

Ashford took one of the chairs and was almost about to sit down in it, then he changed his mind; "What are those holes for?", he pointed to a large hole at the back of each chair."

"Tail holes", said Rhania, "these chairs are made by foxes. You can tell that the tail-holes are larger in fox chairs than those made by badgers. This caretaker must have been one of my kin."

"We have a proverb", Snowheart looked dreamily up into the ceiling. "When humans and orcs collide, the only thing left standing is the furniture."

"There are more books over here. Care to take a look?". Ashford had already tired of the discussion about chairs and he now stood by a desk with a large pile of books on it. "Taming the wind, "mastering fire magic part three", "a muse amused" - hey, I remember that one from yesterday".

Rhania was on her way out of the room, then stopped and turned around. "part three?"

Ashford tried to pick up the crumbling book when the front page came off in his hand. He held the single page towards Rhania "sure, mastering fire magic, part three. What about it?"

"Don't you guys find it strange that a fox would keep books like this in his living quarters?".

Ashford shrugged, "I guess, maybe he was just curious to know what magic was all about."

"For a non-magical fox, curiosity would be to browse through the first volume, but we'd never make it to volume three. I'm not so sure that these books were intended for bedtime reading."

"Besides", said Snowheart, "the Artem Ignis that you showed us yesterday did not mention anything about mastery - we found nothing this advanced. I'm not convinced that this room was meant to be somebody's living quarters".

He put his muzzle to the wall and began to sniff. Systematically he examined the scents given off by every brick, every hole and every crack in the wall from one corner of the room to the next. The wall facing the outside carried different smells than the ones facing inwards. They were rich and earthy and Snowheart recognised several different types of mildew. The walls facing inwards gave off a dry scent with only limited notes of mold, and the scent of clay and dust was richer here.

"Now he's sniffing the wall", whispered Ashford and sent a concerned look to Rhania.

"This wall should be facing the outside, but the scents tell otherwise. I smell stale air leaking from the cracks in this wall -along with a hint of paper, and there's hardly any trace of mildew."

"There's a room behind it?"

Snowheart went back over the wall. The strongest scent of paper seeped out through a hairline crack in the wall, which ran in a straight vertical line from the floor and up along the wall, before making a turn to the left. "There's a hidden door here". He picked up a piece of limestone from the floor and began to trace along the line of scent. Soon he had traced the outline of a door. He put his shoulder to the hidden door and gave it a good push. "Locked!" he cursed and began to look around him for any handle, or keyhole.

"There's not much point in having a secret door if you put the keyhole out there in the open", said Ashford dryly. He then joined Snowheart in an attempt to force the door open. Again and again, they pushed the door, threw themselves at it and screamed obscenities at it, but all attempts were ignored by the faceless door. "Rot this door! I swear it's doing this on purpose", panted the exhausted badger and sat down heavily on the floor. "The cursed thing must be magical".

"If the door is magical, maybe the lock is too", observed Ashford.

"Maybe this is where your special talent comes to shine". Snowheart waved a tired hand at Rhania, who grinned broadly at him "well thank you for trying, my strong males" and she began to focus on detecting any signs of radiating magic. She touched the topmost book to recall the sensation of magic, that velvety feeling and the odd colour in her mind. She felt the sensation reach outwards and discovered that she was surrounded by varying colours of magic from all sides. "The magic is everywhere", she thought and noticed for the first time that the breath coming from her two friends had taken on a slight orange tinge that pulsated with their heartbeats. She looked at her own hands and saw that they glowed in the same way. "The magic is not a separate thing", she realised. "We're magical creatures too, the life that we breathe is magical. Even the rocks carry magic". The locked door gave off a steady pale green and so did a single brick in the wall.

"That's the one!" Snowheart put his ear to the door, as Rhania confidently strode over and pushed the glowing brick. With the softest "click", the hidden door unlocked.

"It's open," said Snowheart, "I heard the lock release."

"I didn't hear a thing", said Ashford.

"of course not, you're human."

Behind the door lay another library hall, almost as large as the front hall, but completely sealed off with no windows. It was very dark, and even Rhania and Snowheart could only make out that it was stacked, floor to ceiling with bookshelves filled with books and scrolls.

Ashford lit three torches and the friends began to study the titles just like the day before. Only this time, they did so in awed silence. Having been sealed away behind the airtight door for centuries, most of the books were in good condition - much better than those in the front room but carried titles that none of them recognised.

"This must be the GOOD stuff", said Ashford eventually with newfound enthusiasm.

"Just imagine -thousands of years worth of arcane knowledge gathered in one place" noted Snowheart.

"but what are we looking at", sighed Rhania. "I don't understand any of these titles. Are they harmless? Are they dangerous?"

Snowheart wiped the dust off of yet another book bound in black cloth. "Liber Ars Necromantica, your guess is as good as mine. I know languages, but we've always left the magic to Turfdigger."

"Hey! Don't look at me either", said Ashford. "I use my fists and my sword to get by - and sometimes my head".

"Only when you head-butt someone", laughed Snowheart and put the book back on the shelf.

Rhania remembered the purpose for being here. Somewhere in this room rested the dreadful knowledge of how to conjure forth the fearsome spawn from the otherworld. Creatures with teeth and tentacles and unspeakable things that Victor could only describe by wiggling his fingers in the lack of proper words; knowledge that could turn the tides of the war. With one paw in this world and another in the abyss, these creatures lived for centuries and tore people in two on command. And here she stood - an insignificant fox from Stromm Clearing with a lit torch in her paw and the power to destroy the knowledge held within these walls.

Rhania lowered her torch and held it towards a scroll that was tied closed with a purple silk. "Stand back", she said, and both Snowheart and Ashford took a few steps back in silence.

The flame was an inch away from the scroll when Rhania turned around.

"I cannot do it", she said.

"I don't want to be the one responsible for destroying a thousand years of arcane knowledge just because someone, somewhere might use it for evil. There might be darkness in here, but there is also light. Magic to heal people, to make things grow and to ward off disease, and we would destroy all of it if I were to set fire to the place".

Ashford nodded. "No human will ever be able to locate the hidden chamber. They'll need a badger's nose and your ability to detect magic if they want to get anywhere. Let's just seal off the place and burn the maps that led us to the ruins instead."

The friends were quiet as they left the library vault.

"I'd better remove these", said Rhania as she passed the desk where "mastering fire magic" rested, and put the three books in her backpack. "If it hadn't been for these being in the wrong place, we'd never have had a clue that there was anything special to this room".

Outside again, the three friends took a final look back at the library ruins that had occupied their actions and minds for so long.

"So," said Snowheart, "where are we going from here? I think that I'll be heading back to Badger's Rest and hand in my report."

"What do you say, Ash? Care to join us?", asked Rhania.

Ashford smiled at the two beastfolk, "I'm heading south to Staldr, I have a daughter to take care of you know. I lost a daughter once, and I almost lost myself. I'm not going to let that happen again".

"You'll be alright", Snowheart smiled at him.

"You guys will be alright too", Ashford winked back, "We'll all be";

• and all three knew that they were lying to themselves.

---

The sun was almost at the zenith when Snowheart awoke. It peaked through every curtain, bade itself welcome and settled in. Snowheart let out a slow, satisfied yawn; almost time to get up - but not quite, he decided with a comfortable laziness and turned to look at Rhania who was still asleep next to him. He enjoyed the weight of her arm resting on his stomach, clutched around a generous pawful of fur. He tried to convince himself that the insistent grasp would make it almost impossible for him to sneak out of the bed-pelts without waking her, and that by staying in bed he would actually be doing her a favour. When that failed, he made an active attempt to believe that by staying in bed, he could provide Rhania with all the warmth that the war had denied them for months.

Rhania had stayed with the badgers for the better of two weeks, and Snowheart had enjoyed every second. They both knew that Rhania was expected to report back to Victor and Sebastian about the findings within the library, but they also knew that returning to Oakenford carried a genuine risk of getting arrested by the city guards, now that all beastfolk were denied entry into the city. It was a risk that Rhania was in no hurry to take, and Snowheart was not the one to remind her, so one day followed the next, and the early summer sun caressed their fur just as much as they caressed each other.

He gently stroked her face with his muzzle, and yellow eyes squinted back against the intrusive sunlight.

"What...time is it?" she asked, drowsy and snuggling under the warm pelts.

"Early afternoon."

"Why are you up so early?"

"I have a council meeting at dusk", Snowheart said with a prolonged yawn and got out of bed in one rolling motion. He stood up and groomed off a few tufts of loose fur under the scrutiny of an unblinking mirror. Owning a full-length mirror was considered an almost inexcusable luxury by most of the other villagers, and its sole companion-piece currently resided with the village tailor. Sloe, who had crafted the furniture jokingly insisted that the only reason for keeping it in their home was that there was no room left for it in her workshop.

From the warm comfort of the bed and resting her chin on one front paw, Rhania watched him dress.

"You know, I think I spotted a few grey hairs around the whiskers," he said. "I don't fancy being an early greymuzzle like my father".

"Your father is a very handsome badger. The grey only makes him look distinguished. Besides - I would never trust a healer who wasn't greying".

"Grey is for the fur and mane. A badger's face should be clean black and white thank you... I could always dye the offending hairs with chestnut".

"I like you just the way that you are", laughed Rhania, "- as long as you don't shed on the floor!"

---

The elder badger of the council closed the travel diary and handed it back to Snowheart. "As it stands," he said, "the human alliance counts humans, elves and dwarves while the rebels count orcs, minotaurs and centaurs. The foxes and goblins have not decided their allegiance yet, and most kisanti and wolfkin don't consider themselves Namairian and have refused to join either side."

Snowheart shifted uncomfortably in the chair. He knew that the council had made the decision to join one of the warring sides, but both sides seemed equally unattractive.

"we disagree with the way that the orcs have attacked the settlers of Grimslade, but the centaurs and minotaurs have been our friends and allies for many generations and we hope that they will stay that way once this war is over. Furthermore, the humans have taken to expelling us all from Oakenford, based only on some loose rumours about spying on their affairs - as if anyone would care. We simply cannot side with the humans."

Snowheart stood as paralysed; this could not be happening. He and Rhania had finally found something to hold onto in a world where goals and alliances shifted by the hour, but staying with the badgers would put her life at risk now that they sided with chief Musclefang.

"You are wrong!", he objected. He had secretly hoped, that his tribe would remain neutral like the foxes - or side with the alliance so that Rhania would be protected from Musclefang's assassins. "The humans don't understand beastfolk. Our council can help them understand and let them know that we mean them no harm."

"Both alliance and rebels have made it clear that they have no use for our council at this point, and your own words support it in your report. We appreciate that you did a great job, but we also know that you and Rhania have feelings for each other, and your judgement will therefore be weakened by your emotions. The final decision of the council remains thus, for her own safety -and for ours: that fox has got to go."

"If Rhania leaves, so do I!", Snowheart rose from the chair in anger, and for the second time he felt the sensation of badger-rage rising within him.

"We need you here, Snowheart". The soothing voice was that of Turfdigger, "you are the only one who can communicate across the many races of Namairith."

"But Rhania?"

"Your relationship is not the only casualty of the war. Members of all races have fled and are setting up camps in the ranges to the east as we speak. With your knowledge of languages, you are much too valuable to let go". The tone of Turfdigger's voice was kindhearted as always, but insistent. He did not have to speak the fact that Snowheart's staying was not a matter for discussion - it was a direct order given in the kindest way that the situation allowed.

The vibrance of the setting sun still breathed gentle warmth into the air, but no fire or furnace could melt the ice that grasped Snowheart's stomach like a frozen fist. He watched the shadows rake the white walls of Badger's Rest like angry talons and cast the village into crimson darkness wall by wall, as the sun disappeared behind the mountains.

"I'll stay", he said.

---

Snowheart stood on the hilltop and watched in silence as Rhania rode into the distance. When she had vanished from sight, he turned around and walked back to Badger's Rest. "Farewell my friend," he said quietly, "I hope that we do not meet again until this war is over, for I dread that the next time we meet, it shall be as enemies".

G'night my fellow furs Chapter twelve is on its way.

Yours, Gly.