The table fell into a silence. Fawnia remained still, tiny droplets gathering in the corners of her eyes, sparkling like diamonds in the faint light of the lamps on the wall. No one spoke, but the desperation to know the truth was written on every face.
"Not the time for old ghosts," Grisel muttered, attempting to pull back into his shell, "We have more pressing matters, like the Riders at the next table…."
"You don't have to share if you don't wish to, Grisel," Lorian interrupted in his calm but firm voice, "You have my word we'll never raise the subject again. But don't use 'pressing matters' as a shield. I came to this hole specifically to get my head out of 'pressing matters'."
Grisel gave a quick, stiff nod, "Forgive me, My Lord." He leaned forward, his voice dropping low, like a man confessing a crime-
"I was an Imperial orphan. A boy with a special knack for the kind of work that gets you hanged or hired. In the Empire, they have a saying- when you're a small-time criminal, they arrest you; when you make it big, they recruit you. I got recruited. The King's Bastards. We were the secret dagger in the Empire's sleeve- known to many, acknowledged by none. We did every kind of vile work. Stealing, kidnapping, blackmail... you name it. And I never felt an ounce of remorse. I thought I was born for the dirt."
He took a long pull of his ale before continuing.
"My last assignment was the strange one. We were sent across the border, through Elven territory to the sacred woods of Gildergleam. A mission straight from the Dark Tower- the Arcane Guild of Indoris. We didn't know the target at first, just that it was a 'package' for the mages. Only when we reached the heart of the woods did we see the truth. We were there to kidnap a White Stag Beastman. A woman named Fiona. And she was heavy with child."
Grisel's eyes clouded over, staring at something far beyond the tavern walls.
"The Dark Tower had given our leader a scroll- a magical compass that always pointed at her. You see my Lord, finding her was easy. I remember seeing her for the first time... she looked too pure for a world like ours. But we were Bastards. We didn't get swayed by beauty. We shackled her and started the trek back. It went too smooth. And in my trade, smooth means a storm is coming."
He gripped his mug tighter.
"The storm wore Elven garb. The Silver Thorns. A guild of assassins tied to Beladhithl. They didn't announce themselves; they just let their arrows do the talking. Two of my brothers were dead before the first bowstring stopped humming. We formed a circle, knives out, with the woman in the center. Then a cold, commanding voice came from the trees- 'Give us the vessel, and you may crawl back to your Emperor.'"
"Vornat, our leader, didn't bother with words. He was a beast of a man. He tracked the sound, spun, and buried a throwing knife in the speaker's throat. The Elf tumbled from the branches like a broken bird, and for a heartbeat, the whole forest went silent. I was the one guarding the lady. I huddled near her, hand on my hilt, when she grabbed my wrist."
Grisel's voice trembled. "'Neither of them,' she pleaded. She looked at me with eyes that could see right through my armor, 'Humans or Elves... both roads lead to the altar.' I felt she was telling the truth, but I was a Bastard. I hesitated. So, she forced me to see."
"She shoved a vision into my skull. I can still taste the copper of the blood. I saw her on a stone slab, bound in chains. I saw the birth... and then a face. Something ancient and monstrous that shouldn't exist in this realm. It leaned down and consumed the newborn whole, laughing with a roar that shook my very soul."
He wiped a hand across his face. "I woke up trembling. That vision scraped the loyalty right out of my bones. I wasn't an agent anymore; I was just a man who had seen the end of the world. While the Bastards and the Thorns were butchering each other in the brush, we ran. We spent weeks in caves, breathing in sync, hiding from two empires. In that silence, she wasn't a 'package' anymore. She was…. my everything."
"Then came the night of the labor. The sky turned purple and black, like heaven and hell were fighting for the child's soul. When the babe finally cried, we had one moment of happiness. Just one. Then she felt them- the humans and the elves had converged on us at the cliff's edge."
"I tried to carry them both, but she was too weak. She dropped to her knees and began to chant a low, rhythmic thrum that made the air vibrate. The clouds turned into a vortex of black ink. She looked at me one last time, and with strength she didn't have, she shoved me and the babe over the edge."
"As I fell, the sky broke. Thunder rained down; a web of lightning that turned the clearing into a furnace. I heard the screams of the Bastards and the Thorns mix into one gut-wrenching roar. I closed my eyes, waiting for the ravine to take me, but the forest reached out. The branches caught us like living arms."
Grisel looked up, his eyes landing on Lorian.
"When I climbed back up, there was nothing left but scorched bone and melted steel. The only body I could recognize was hers... those antlers were still attached to the charred remains. She ended them all to give us a ghost's chance at a life. I knew then the man who entered those woods was dead. I took the child and headed for Veridia. I knew the Thorne Lords; they are men of money, but they are open. They're the only ones who might look at a girl like her and see a person instead of an anomaly to be eradicated."