Blackgrave

The following morning, Lord Ros, Ithena, Kangee, and Gilt made their way to the Sunlit Flame church. Beams of light streamed in through the trees to the east, kissing the flowers and path in a soft golden glow. As they approached the path leading through the church's garden, a man clad in silver and gold robes caught their eye. He stood with his back to them, facing the sun as it spilled in through the canopy.

"You must be Benwall the Brave," Lord Ros said.

"That I am.” He turned to face them. His eyes carried heavy bags and his brow hung low, casting them in shadow. As he scanned their faces, he stopped on Kangee. Breathing his name with a whisper, he said, “It's been a long time."

"So it has. I see you still carry the light of Providence wherever you go," Kangee replied.

"His light remains with me always." Benwall’s glance swept over to Ithena and he pressed his lips together. "I was unaware The Order was home to so many from the war."

"Yes, well, someone has to do the job," Ithena spat. A somewhat haughty smile stretched on her face.

Sensing the tension between her and Benwall, Lord Ros quickly spoke up before the conversation could derail. "Right. We have a couple of questions for you.” He pulled out his notes. “We are here to follow up on the Witch sighting that occurred a few days prior.”

“Lunara, yes. She had been hiding herself in this town for many years, though she has not returned since the others encountered her.” Benwall’s eyes swelled and his shoulders sank down. “I should have known she was here. The fault lies with me.”

“Well, from what we have gathered so far, we believe she has left Waldenhauf,” Lord Ros said. “But there is something else happening here now. Something I was hoping you could help us with.”

"Please, speak freely,” Benwall’s voice tinged with respect. “Our town only knows safety because of the help The Order sent us. If there is anything I can do, let me know."

"We believe there are spirits haunting the surrounding area, and we were hoping you might be able to identify them." Lord Ros looked up from his notes. "And I'd like to ask you about the bard you spoke with yesterday."

Benwall took a deep breath to this question and his eyes reflected his contemplation.

“I know he was here, I was just wondering what you could tell me about him,” Ros added

Benwall was silent. He lifted his heavy gaze up to the golden sixteen pointed sun painted on the church. "I never got his name, though he told me I could call him Houndmaster," Benwall replied. "He said it was time I returned home and saw my father, Lord Brayers."

"Wait, you’re Lord Brayers’ son? I thought he only had daughters, though it was my understanding that they disappeared many years ago," Lord Ros said.

"I was born under the Nameless,'' Benwall replied somberly. “My sisters, Lila and Lily, are the true heirs, but it is as you said. Before their 13th Remnant day, they both disappeared and haven't been seen since."

"Just before their 13th Remnant day?" Kangee asked. “Are you sure?”

"It is not something I have ever forgotten. They were both born on Chaos 13th, only a few minutes apart," Benwall answered. “I may have been born Nameless, but my mother did her best to ensure I was taken care of until her death and my sister's disappearance.

"I'm sorry to hear that,” Lord Ros replied. Just like Eija’s sister. Witches of Chaos… or perhaps victims? He paused, letting the somber mood die down. "As for the spirits, they appear as a young girl belonging to the Blackfeather tribe and an old Aredesan man. The girl seems to be frightened, and as for the other, violent and angry."

"Blackfeather…" Benwall scratched at his stubbly unshaven chin. "There is only one Crow Clan girl buried in our graveyard. Kreecha Ironhaust. Her death was a sordid affair.”

“What exactly happened?” Ros asked.

A pained expression fell over Benwall and he hid his harrowing gaze with his hand. “Sergeant Ironhaust had developed a Prejudice for clanfolk during the war—an all too common thing for those who fought in it—but it was one not shared by his daughter. When he returned from the battlefield, he found himself with a grandchild, one fathered by a Blackfeather warrior.”

Benwall’s gaze moved to the north and he stiffened his brow. “The mother died from illness, and not long after, Sergeant Ironhaust took his own life as well as his granddaughter’s. The family grave is in the cemetery.”

“We appreciate your honesty,” Lord Ros replied. “Could you provide us with Sunlit Water? I admit we are short on coin, but it would help wonders.”

“No matter. Give me a moment.” Benwall left them and headed off into the church. When he returned, he carried four vials full of water in his hands. “I’ve blessed them with Providence. I hope it shields you well.”

Lord Ros took the vials and handed them out to the others, saying, “Hopefully we won’t need them. We’ll be back if we have questions.”

Lord Ros gave him a nod before turning and leaving. Gilt and Ithena followed close behind, but as Kangee was about to step away, Benwall spoke.

“Have you been well, Kangee?” he asked.

“As well as I can,” Kangee replied.

“I still see the blood, the bodies, and the horror of that night.” Benwall stared off in the distance before shifting his gaze back to Kangee. “I trust you do as well?”

“That night is one I can never forget,” Kangee replied.

“And do you still hold firm that nothing forced your hand?” asked Benwall.

Kangee’s gaze shifted uneasily to the ground before returning to Benwall. “It was a long time ago. But whether I was enchanted or enraged, it doesn’t matter.” He lifted his left hand, examining it as he spoke. “These hands held the blade, and this flesh was washed in the blood.” Kangee half turned. “Be seeing you around, Benwall.”

The four of them arrived at the graveyard just as the morning dew was beginning to dry on the grass. The iron fence that surrounded it was well maintained, and the headstones were all clean and tidy.

“We're looking for the Ironhaust stone, but keep your eyes out for anything else. If that woman from last night is to be believed, there might be a clue buried here,” Lord Ros told them. Kangee and Ithena looked along the back of the fence where the stone pyre laid while Lord Ros and Gilt took the front.

“Did you ever serve with Ironhaust?” Ithena asked Kangee.

“Briefly,” Kangee replied. “But that was enough experience for a lifetime.”

“Then you know how keenly he hated your people,” Ithena said, her eyebrows playfully raised.

“All too well.” Kangee narrowed his gaze on the tombstone that lay in front of him. “Bon’Derick,” he said quietly.

“Hmm?” Ithena replied. “Speak up,” she told him.

“This must be Benwall’s family grave,” Kangee answered.

“Bon’Derick, ay? Nice of her to give that Nameless bastard her name,” Ithena replied. Her eyes stared at the inscription of Providence displayed at the top of the tombstone. “I see he intends to keep them safe.”

She read the dates next to their names: Chaos 15th 820. “Imagine that, off to fight in the Wildland War just to come back to an empty home with shattered memories. Do you think Benwall looked so brave when he found out?”

“Their grave looks undisturbed. Come, let's look elsewhere.” Kangee walked away from her.

Ithena laughed and shook her head. “Don’t tell me you have sympathy for him? Surely he would have none for you if your roles were reversed.” She hurried and caught up to him. “You and I are both scum in his eyes. The way I see it, some people in the war were labeled heroes, others criminals. But it's not like I did anything that countless soldiers didn’t do on the battlefield.”

Kangee glared silently at Ithena, refusing to respond.

Ithens threw her hands up. “So I burned a woman and some children to death. Who cares?” She stiffened her brow and folded her arms indignantly. “They were out of line and not listening. Something had to be done or the others would rally and join their cause.”

She pointed at her chest. “Had I not acted, there would have been considerably more deaths, some of which would have been on our side.” Her whole body tensed as she clenched her fists. “As I was carted off in chains, rapists and child butchers received sixteen pointed silver suns.”

“So then what?” Kangee asked her. “Become the thing they label you as?”

“Ithena the Wildfire?” She smirked. “One day you're told to burn every soul in the village, the next you're stripped of your dignity for burning any.”

“Don’t make excuses for your actions." Kangee's eyes mirrored the silent anger that stared Ithena down the day she earned her title.

"Ohh, come off of it!" Ithena scowled. "I will not be lectured by the blood-soaked crow of betrayal."

"A fact you won't hear me justifying." Kangee stared coldly at her for a moment.

“I think I found their grave!” Lord Ros shouted. “Yes, I’m sure of it.” He read over the dates and names of the buried as the others moved over to join him. “Both the grandfather and granddaughter died the same day, Prejudice 8th, 828.”

“Well, what next?” Gilt asked.

“We dig,” Lord Ros answered. “If a witch is responsible for this, then we should find some sort of evidence to suggest it.” They pulled out hand shovels from their bags and took turns digging until they found a small white bag. Gilt looked over the back momentarily before handing it over to Lord Ros.

“This what you were looking for?” Gilt asked and Lord Ros nodded.

“Yes,” he replied as he studied it. “Well, this is not good - not good at all.” His thumb rested on the symbol of Chaos stitched into the side of the bag in orange.

Ithena leaned in to have a closer look. “What is it?”

“You see how one of these circles is emboldened?” She nodded. “It’s possible, albeit unfortunate for us, that this hex bag is simply one of a set of three.” Lord Ros sighed. “So even if we do destroy it, we will likely have to find two other bags before the spirits will disappear completely.”

“If that is the case”—Ithena extended her hand and a small flame manifested in her palm—“give it to me, I’ll destroy it.” Lord Ros handed her the bag and she crushed it into the flames before wiping her hands free of ash.

“Now the question becomes where are the other bags located. Obviously there is one near that abandoned house, but as to where the other one could be, well I suppose just about anywhere.” Lord Ros scanned the area around them. “Likely within some kind of proximity to the others. Perhaps the spell can only go so far, or there is some kind of limitation.”

He pulled out his notes and began to write. “Multiple witches in Waldenhauf… Witch of Chaos according to the bard... Prejudice... Doubt…”

“Are we still going to the ruins where they first encountered the Witch?” Kangee asked.

“Yes”—he put his notes back in his bag—“though we need to find Haldor first. He knows the way.”

After the four of them filled in the hole, they went to the Elder’s house to speak with Haldor. He and Juniper were sitting at the same table they had been the day prior. After a quick morning greeting, Haldor kissed Juniper goodbye, and they were off.

A few hours passed since they left the beaten path, and now they walked through a thicket of trees and underbrush. Insects buzzed, birds chirped, and thin branches rubbed and smacked them as they traversed the untamed woods.

“Just how deep are these ruins?” Gilt asked Haldor.

“Deep,” Haldor answered. “There’s a reason it has gone unnoticed by most up to this point.” Sunlight faded the further into the woods they pressed, until everything was cast in shadowy twilight.

Lord Ros looked around in complete awe at the dark, dense forest they now walked. He lit his torch, and they continued through the tenebrous wood. Occasionally an opening in the leaves high up in the canopy would shed some light, but it was dim and only pushed the darkness back a few paces.

“There they are.” Haldor gestured towards a stone structure that could be seen in between two trees just up ahead.

“Those ruins are massive.” Lord Ros squinted and tried to study them. Made from stone? My word, how did the elves even build it?

As they broke through the treeline, the ancient structure came into full view. Trees littered the landscape all around them, though far more sparsely laid than those encountered on the journey. Lord Ros snuffed out his torch and marveled at the stonework. It was old and covered in moss, but the craftsmanship held its edge even against the test of time. “I never imagined I would see elven ruins, let alone some so impressive.”

“It’s a surprise they haven’t been discovered sooner,” Ithena said.

“My people have known about it since before my time, though we were always taught to stay away from it by our pack leader. It could make someone Uwfolwa.”

“Uwf-ol-wah,” Lord Ros sounded it out. “I take it that's Wulfolic for something?”

“Yes,” Gilt answered. “Uwfolwa doesn’t have a direct translation in Aredesan, and every tribe has their own interpretation of what exactly it means. The Rötzarhna tribe would claim someone has fallen victim to Uwfolwa when they lost themselves to their more savage or primal instincts and could no longer be reasoned with. They fell from Folwa, a state where our spirits are in harmony with our Utarou.”

“My tribe call things Uwfolwa for when something brings out the shadow of oneself in front of the light,” said Haldor. “To be Uwfolwa is to have lost yourself to the shadows within your spirit. Shadows we all possess, but must never allow to consume us.”

“What about you, Kangee?” Ithena asked. “What meaning does Uwfolwa have for your people?”

“To be Folwa is to be with our crow.” He gently stroked Achi’s head with his finger. “To be Uwfolwa is for us to be with our crow with no place to return.”

“Whatever interpretation of it, it doesn’t sound like this place will be strictly safe,” Lord Ros replied. “Let's speak to the elves and have a look around. We know the Witch of Doubt was here, so I don’t see why they wouldn’t let us in.” Lord Ros stepped forward with the others, but stopped when he noticed Haldor did not follow. “Aren't you coming?”

“No.” Haldor cast his gaze down and shook his head. “This place holds a great evil, and I was lucky to have survived the first time I came. Naja, Carbrey, Orthos, and Beef all saw to it that I made it back to Juniper. I’ve risked my fair share to return the favor, but going back into those ruins is something I promised Juniper I would never do again, no matter what.”

Lord Ros gave a slight nod. “Well I thank you for taking us this far.” He turned to Gilt. “Do you think you will be able to navigate us back?”

“Arren should have no trouble following the trail.” He scratched the wolf’s ear.

“I shall see you all on your return.” Haldor gave them a nod before disappearing through the treeline.

Now just the four of them, they slowly approached the ruins.

“Remember, we're not here to fight or argue. Just here to investigate—that is all.” Lord Ros stepped in front of the others, scanning for the elves.

“Hopefully they don’t just shoot us on sight,” Ithena said with a chuckle. “The Sword of Light is not known for their kindness.”