The summer sky was warm and bright overhead, the clouds themselves seeming to blaze white-hot against their turquoise backdrop. As the party moved through the cleft in the hills that formed the passageway into their destination, the rising peaks on each side of pass turning black as they rose to eclipse the sun one after the other.

But soon, the last rise of earth smoothed down, and the narrow path opened up into a landscape as perfect as a painting. The rolling fields were a patchwork of green and gold that swayed like the sea in the gentle breeze that ruffled each party member's hair, along with Stalk's feathers and Ren's leafy clothing. Wheat, barley, sunflowers and pastures dotted with black-spotted cows stretched from horizon to horizon, which was flanked on the far sides by towering mountains with tops like iced buns, their white caps reaching into the heavens. Though there were no people about, rich, dark orchards whose trees were bursting with fruit were clustered near to quaint thatch-roofed farmsteads, the oranges, pears and apples shining like ambers, emeralds and rubies in the crown of some ancient forest king.

Just as colourful as these delights were the wildflowers that sprung up either side of the sandy track, the petals in full bloom and opening as if in greeting, welcoming the party to the kingdom of Milisevre.

Arabella made all these observations and more as the party walked, her thoughts spinning with descriptions at the sights and sounds that surrounded them. The open sky made the heavens seem all that much closer, and the swifts flitting through the air as they chirped and chased each other seeming to lift her very mood higher and higher with them...

But she tried not to let herself get carried away, and it certainly helped bring her back down to earth when she felt Finnan tug on the sleeve of her dress and she looked down to see him grinning and holding up a red rose he had plucked from the wayside. Not only that, but he'd used his druidcraft to cause all the thorns to fall away, leaving the stem smooth as a temple column.

In that moment, her heart swelled, and she dipped down slightly to gently lift the bloom from his grasp. "Thank you so much, Finnan!" she gushed as she slipped her fingers around the stem.

"No worries!" the halfling replied. "I remembered you like these!"

"I do!" Arabella told him, reaching down to pat him on the head as she beamed. Thankfully, he'd actually washed his hair this morning when she asked him to, and so for once, his tangled mass of wild yellow locks weren't as greasy as you please.

Arabella knew that wouldn't last, though. Finnan always found a way to get himself dirty again.

Still, she appreciated his kind gesture, and lifted the rose to place it in her hair, just behind her tapering ear. The flower made her feel fresher, and as her nose picked up the gentle scent of the petals, she swore she could feel it surrounding her-

A sound then cut through her thoughts. She didn't know what it was at first, but she swore it sounded like a raspy, metallic... scoff?

Twisting about, Arabella looked to the rest of the party members up ahead; Logan and Stalk were leading the charge, to speak, with the paladin striding up one of the many gentle hills spread across what they had seen of this new kingdom so far and the kenku following just behind him, and standing at the foot of the slope, a few feet back from them, was Technus.

Both of his eyes were fixed on her, and while she could glean no emotion from his robotic one... his remaining human eye was full of contempt. The look only lasted for a second before he twisted around and began to climb the slope himself. His movements were stiff and slow, lacking any of the fluidity of a living being.

But the way his eyes had fallen upon Arabella rattled her. She hadn't given him cause to look at her in such a way... had she?

Her pulse quickened and her hand flew up to feel the rose, her fingers lightly caressing the smooth, delicate petals. Then, her head flicked down to Finnan for a split-second – so fast that the halfling didn't even notice as he stood staring at the mountains in the distance...

Was it Finnan's gift that Technus was disparaging? Either the rose, or the thought behind it?

She supposed the former would make sense, if nature was something he had no love for - Arabella recalled that Technus' whole reason for being in the Cockatrice was not to eat or to rest, but to pray to his goddess. A goddess of civilization and invention.

It didn't make his comment hurt any less... but being a cleric herself, though, she continued to think.

Thanks to both her status as a princess and the practises of her own religion, the faith of Hanali Celanil, Arabella had been granted to opportunity to travel and seen many different places, even before she started adventuring on her own terms. Not just for royal progresses and such, but to heal the sick, bring young lovers together as she had done during her rite of passage, and to behold different parts of Toril – to appreciate them and see the majesty that even the most desolate places might have.

Even in the deserts of Calimshan in the far south, you could marvel at the dunes as tall as mountains and the light of the sun glittering off the ocean that shone like the surface of a sapphire... not to mention the loud-coloured silks and finery you could find in the bazaars.

Meanwhile, it was entirely possible that Technus hadn't had such opportunities. That, like many clerics, he'd been cooped up in a single monastery all his life with nothing to behold but the iconographies and dogmas of Erathis.

'Maybe this is his way of coping with all these new things being thrown at him?' she wondered. 'Is he having a hard time processing it all, and is it making him stressed?'

If that was the case, she completely empathised with how hard that would be. And as Technus walked away, she reached up to touch the symbol of her goddess that hung around her neck, making a silent promise to open his eyes more to the things which lay beyond his faith.

All things had beauty in them. She would demonstrate that, in Hanali's name.

While the human, kenku and cyborg made their way up the slope, Arabella then turned to see where Finnan had gotten to – knowing him as well as she did, she could guarantee that he would have wondered off by now.

At it turned out she was right. The shapeshifting halfling had progressed back the way the party had come a short while ago and was approaching their final member.

Last, but absolutely by no means least, Ren was trudging along at the back of the group, using his staff to prop himself up as he walked. He had kept his head down the whole way here, and hadn't engaged in any kind of conversation, only occasionally looking up to view the trail ahead and his fellow adventurers before him.

Arabella had noted that Ren was keeping to himself a few times on their trek into Milisevre, but it had not been something that worried her – she got the impression that Ren was the shy, quiet type from the moment she first met him yesterday.

But as she gazed upon him now, something else was starting to give her cause for concern.

Despite the warm sunny day and the wondrous landscape that surrounded him on all sides, Ren continued to look depressed and world-weary, the bags under his moody eyes seeming to grow deeper and heavier and lines forming across his long, thin face as time went on.

It was as if something within his body was eating away at him. Like he was aging in a way no other elf could.

Arabella felt a cold knife go through her as she saw this. Age did not affect the long-lived elves like did many other races, and while she tried to believe it was her mind or the light playing tricks on her, there was a twinge of darkness to it that she couldn't shake from her thoughts...

All of this also went against their kind's nature in another way - Elves of all kinds appreciated beauty, with wood elves being most likely to admire pastorals and picturesque depictions of the natural world...

... and yet Ren never turned his eyes away from the road for even a second to appreciate the new vista that lay before him, nor to look upon anything else.

Not until a certain halfling approached him.

"Hey Ren!" Finnan said in his squeaky voice, waving enthusiastically. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"

Ren's head flicked up for a second, as if he was coming to, before he turned his gaze upon Finnan gave a reply that was barely above a murmur. "Um... yes."

"You don't talk much, do you?" the halfling replied, still smiling in a childlike manner. "Has a cat got your tongue? If so, I can scare it away!" he offered, and as he spoke, he dropped down onto all fours and started snarling, growling and barking like a dog.

All Ren could manage was to flap his mouth in disbelief, and as Arabella saw him, she felt she had to step in. Backtracking down the slope, stepping gracefully in her heels, she tapped Finnan on the shoulder the moment he came within reach. When the halfling met her gaze, she gave one shake of her head, and he rolled his eyes before getting back up.

"What Finnan is trying to say, Ren..." Arabella then said, lifting her eyes to meet the young wizard. "... is that he wants to check that you're alright. As do I." She then gave him a slight smile, her heart and her eyes filling with pity as she did so. "You haven't said a word since we left the inn. Is something bothering you?"

Ren met her gaze, but held it for little more than a half-second before he turned away slightly

"Forgive me, my lady..." he said, speaking in the Common language so Finnan could understand him too "... but I'm not exactly the most talkative type. Also, and please don't take this the wrong way... I don't wish to share everything about myself just yet."

Arabella nodded. "I understand." She wanted to place a hand on his shoulder or touch his cheek to comfort him, but much to her sorrow, she knew that would make him pull away and make him uncomfortable.

However, the impulse to find out what he was struggling with continued to lurk inside her, and so she tried to find the words that would help him open up to her.

"Is it about what happened yesterday?" she asked. "Because you've nothing to fear now, Ren. You're part of the team now – we'll all look after you."

Her fellow elf's gaze snapped back to her when she said that, and his normally soft, gentle gaze flared with a thousand different emotions all at once.

But saw two most of all; fear... and anger.

As his feelings radiated out to her, a small lump formed in Arabella's throat before she managed to swallow it. "Ren... I-"

That was all she was able to say before Ren's glare turned away, his eyes closed and his mouth let loose a shaky, desperate sigh. Arabella didn't know what was going, but she could see plain as day that something was still hurting him... and right now, that could have been her.

She was about to apologize when a voice that belonged to neither herself, Ren or Finnan came from up ahead. Standing near the crest of the hill, she saw Stalk waving his winglike arms as his avian voice reached her ears.

"Eyes forward, folks! Something's going on up ahead!

~~~

Ren's heart was roiling in his chest so much from how he felt that even Stalk's cry of alarm was a relief. Lifting his gaze to stare up the slope, he saw that Logan and Technus were also already at the hill's summit, waiting for him, Arabella and Finnan.

Without so much as a glance at the high elf or the halfling, Ren started forward. He didn't wish to talk with her anymore, just as he didn't really wish to talk with anyone right now.

He didn't want them to know or force the truth out of him. It was a risk he couldn't take.

Soon, he was on the crest of the hill, which commanded a decent view of their surroundings – continuing farmland bereft of people or any more houses for as far as the eye could see, with forests, rivers and irrigation ditches mixed in. And one final thing that stood out.

Not far away was a windmill – the only structure for seemingly leagues ahead. It was a tall thing made of stone, its pale white exterior cracked and chipped in many places to reveal the brickwork underneath. Meanwhile, four long arms creaked in the wind near the onion-shaped top, the sails frayed in places and utterly tattered in others. Surrounding the exterior were the remains of a low grey stone wall of whom great stretches had completely toppled over, the cobbles scattered amongst the long, thick green grass.

Clearly this place has been abandoned for a long while, with the elements and animals getting at it... which made the second thing Ren saw all the stranger.

Wheeling about on the back of a silver horse came a knight in shining armour, a scarlet plume on the crest of his helm flapping about as the thundering pace of his mount turned the breeze into a gale. Gripped in his right hand was an eight-foot lance, made of ash and tipped with an iron point that shone just as much as his armour, while his left arm bore a shield as red as his plume, though there was a symbol upon it in white and gold that Ren couldn't make out at this distance, even with his elven eyesight.

The entire party watched as the knight yanked the reins of his steed, twisting the animal about until they were both facing down the old windmill. Then, he dug his spurs in, and his mount reared up, let loose a whinny that echoed across the land, and hurtled forward.

The absurdity of the sight made it impossible for Ren to not blurt out "Is he... charging at the windmill?"

His comment elicited a laugh from Stalk. "The guy must be mad!" the kenku remarked. "Mad, or extremely drunk!"

Finnan laughed alongside him, Technus scoffed, Arabella looked uncertain and fearful... but Logan said and did nothing but watch.

Ren expected that the paladin would be less than willing to mock a fellow knight. Though, as he himself looked at the rider again, he did notice something.

The scarlet-plumed chevalier's form as he rode was deft and masterful, his lance held aloft and positioned perfectly to deliver a piercing strike. Nothing in his movements indicated he was drunk, or that his conviction was addled in any way.

And then, in the tail of his eye, Ren glimpsed something else – a long, snakelike tail slipping behind the windmill, briefly flaring green in the sunlight before it fell under the shadow cast by the old building.

Before Ren could even think about what to say, an earth-shaking 'BOOM!' smashed through the air and the windmill's rounded top exploded into chunks of stone that blasted outwards and peppered both the countryside and the charging knight. Then, as he held up his shield to protect himself while maintaining his pace, there was a creak like a thousand trees getting torn down all at once. As the mill itself was ripped open, its wooden arms and sails collapsed, rolled forwards, and then toppled over and fell flat upon the armoured warrior. He was knocked from his horse, but as the animal screeched in panic and hurtled away, he fell to the grass with a thud and landed in a crumpled heap while a chunk of the windmill pinned him to the ground.

As he lay there helpless, something new claimed the sails' place on the top of the windmill – a lean, leonine form with four powerful legs, each one thick with muscle, and a pair of colossal batlike wings sprouting from its shoulderblades, spreading wide to cast a terrible, monstrous shadow upon the ground.

But what was even more terrible was the monster's heads – it had three of them! The first was that of a roaring lion whose fangs dribbled streams of frothing spittle; the second was that of a goat whose curved horns gleamed in the sun like scimitars; and the last was that of a green dragon, hissing and snarling as its venomous eyes gleamed with boundless cruelty.

A chimera!

Ren felt every part of him seize up, his legs and his heart most of all. It took all of his strength to look to his companions, and his heart immediately began to sink as he saw Logan drawing his sword.

"Come on! We have to help him!" the paladin called in a commanding voice as he scanned the party, his golden eyes blazing like pockets of flame.

All the others immediately began to move, with even Technus seeming to silently exclaim 'Fine' and reach to draw his pistol from his back again. Only Ren remained motionless, and he felt his mouth stammer for what seemed like forever before words finally came out.

"Are you sure about this?" he heard himself say, unsure if they should just rush in on impulse.

If his life had taught him anything, impulses could kill.

Logan met his gaze as those words were spoken, giving Ren a look of stubborn determination. "A man is in danger, Ren. Just like Elsa and those back at the inn were. If we don't save him, no-one will."

Memories flashed through Ren's mind in that instant – of the Cockatrice Inn, and of how he'd fled like a coward only to almost die anyways. The looming three-headed monster reared up atop its perch in the tail of his eye, and he felt his heart pump so fast and hard that it banged against his eardrums.

'If I stay, I might die. But if I run, I also might die...'

As his mind when blank and his stomach felt sick with nerves, his eyes locked onto the nearest object – Stalk pulling a potion from inside his armour, one marked with an 'R' on the cork, and chugging the bright yellow contents in one gulp. Then, with a parting quip of "Try to keep up!", he rushed forward and morphed into a black-feathered blur, with all the others following after him as he sped across the countryside, running swift as an arrow in flight into the jaws of death itself...