The being that stood before them on the balcony was a sight to behold. Flames wreathed him, and shadows writhed behind him. His too large amber eyes danced with the fire around him. The forest-folk stood tall and proud, his eyes resting on Trunk for only a moment.

Trunk stepped back, involuntarily sucking in a heavy breath borne of shock. A strange and panicked mixture of emotions boiled beneath is outwardly calm appearance, and he fought to keep them where they were, tightening the lid to save the fire from the boiling torrent. Some small spark of hope was dashed, while anger fear and confusion threatened to drown him. You wreath yourself in fire? Pay homage to the very thing that destroyed us? He found his feet unable to move him closer, so he stayed near the back of the group, and fought to keep his composure.

"You travel here not out of necessity, but in search of guidance on your way. That is a strange occurrence, in this place."

His father's voice seemed as though it had not changed at all, and memories of it from his childhood nearly left Trunk on his knees. Instead he sniffed quietly and watched Katerin.

"We do not mean to intrude. We just want to be on our way. Thank you for allowing us a short respite from the rain." Katerin said, bowing her head with a slight knot of unease upon her shoulders.

"What is it you search for, wanderers?" Torkrest's eyes fell upon Trunk, again only for a moment, but Trunk would not meet his gaze.

"Alkyrindaun," Katerin began. "The city of—"

"I know of it. A strange thing to seek, so far from your homes. Surely many have gone before you, but I have never learned of their success."

Roahn stepped forward, chin held high. "And did they ask for directions, too?"

Torkrest smiled. "No, not in my time. Though, if you wish to find the city, I would suggest you find the giants. Climb the tallest peaks, and find where the storm rages the strongest. Seek guidance from the very same who govern this city you search for."

"And if they aren't feeling friendly?" Roahn said, and Trunk watched as her shoulders tensed.

"Then you will die, should they not be in a benevolent mood." Torkrest replied. His tone was not harsh, but nor was it disputable, no longer holding any qualms with death.

Trunk closed his eyes and remembered his father. Who had once wept for the life of a crushed sapling, as doubts and anger clouded his thoughts. This was not the same man. Some impostor or illusion. He could not meet his eyes to discern if there was any love left there, and every time he tried the fear of his answers stopped him short, so once again he turned his gaze to Katerin, and the dragonkin who stood next to her. Neither knowing the truth behind the man who now spoke to them.

Roahn snorted at Torkrest's words, but hastily recovered her manners as Katerin shot her a quick look.

"So you believe the city to be along this range?"

"I do. It is hidden well amongst the frost touched peaks. A realm that is not of my spirit." He smiled and raised one hand, and the flames about him seemed to dance with more ferocity, as he acknowledged them. "I cannot tell you it's true or exact location." He looked across them all, with an insightful eye. "If you should like, stay with us for a time. I will speak with the spirits, and ask them of your plight. It appears as though you and yours could use a respite from the rains, regardless. A reawakening to the flames within."

Trunk watched as Katerin offered an inquisitive look to all of them, waiting for their opinions even as they waited on her decision.

"I don't see how we could refuse such an opportunity," she said. "Thank you."

Torkrest smiled. "Good. While you are here, please tell my people of the rest of the world. They have a tendency to forget that beyond our shores another world awaits. It does them good to remember." He clapped his hands, and bowed his head, and now his gaze fell on Trunk and did not budge.

The woman who had escorted them turned on her heel and began leading them back the winding path to the flickering lights below. Trunk stayed where he stood, as the people moved around him. He could not speak, though he was not sure what he might say, in any case.

Torkrest raised his head after a moment. "Come and speak with me, whenever you feel you are ready. I will wait."

His words were quiet, and Trunk was sure no one else had heard them, almost as if they were a whisper inside his own mind.

Torkrest turned and disappeared, flames and all, into the dwelling.

The community here was small, and tighter than the braids Imeiza used to force Katerin's hair into when she was a girl. Most of its residents were quiet and suspicious of them, but many were quite the opposite and excited to have a new face to speak with. The place ran effortlessly. They had clean water, fresh food, plenty of materials to expand their growth and a sizable population. They had taken a wild and at times miserable place and quite literally carved themselves out a Utopian sort of safe haven.

Today Katerin sat with a sizable group of its inhabitants, as they told her of the flora and fauna. What they could eat, hunt, use for defenses and which plants were suitable for medicine.

"What about the dangers? We encountered some large twisted beings, but we haven't otherwise been bothered."

"You encountered the forsaken heirs," a man said. He had purple skin, of a pastel shade, and no hair on his head.

There were many people like him, stone elves and any other race that people considered outsiders or monsters in the rest of the world. A fact that she knew Huen enjoyed, and embraced.

"The what?"

"Forsaken heirs. Children of the giants that you seek, only twisted and abandoned to roam the land. They are aggressive, longing for any food that is easy prey."

"They are giants? In Alkyrindaun?" Katerin asked, as her stomach tied in knots. They certainly did not seem to be interested in history, from what she had seen.

"Well, What else did you expect?"

Katerin stared, her mouth agape, for a moment, before she shook her head. "The giants can't reproduce?"

The man shook his head, his fingers deftly tying together the vines he held into a thick rope. "It is said that they are cursed to be unable to produce an heir of sound mind and heart, and always twisted in body."

"It is because of how a giant can live?" Katerin had heard a rumor that Giants could live longer than even the elves and dwarves.

The man shrugged, offering her a small smile. "I only know the legends. Ask them yourself when you meet them, I suppose."

There was a hint of dubiousness in his tone, a disbelief that Katerin had encountered too many times already, to be bothered by. "I suppose I will," she said. She watched as he set the first rope aside, and began work on another, weaving and tying the vines into a pattern she could hardly fathom, with practiced movements.

She offered him a farewell, and left him to his work, feeling rather strange as she walked the stone and dirt pathways used as roads.

The people in Eld'Hiruma were plenty kind but even after two days of being here, they were still quiet and pensive, save for a few. They would smile and nod, and lock their doors after she had passed, and usher their children away when they thought she could not see. She could not blame them, but it was a sharp contrast that made her miss the streets of O'siaris, where the children would greet her with smiles and small trinkets they had made. She heard a scuffle of commotion as she passed a cavern, and her steps slowed.

Firstly, she saw Brazen gawking in the middle of the path, oblivious to the people around him, and then she saw inside the large cavern where his eyes were locked. Three people stood in fighting stances, with bare feet and no weapons in their hands. Two facing one.

The one they faced was wide shouldered, with a grin on his face that almost reminded Katerin of Juen'tal's smirks, though much friendlier.

His two opponents moved in tandem, and Katerin was gaping as she watched his hands move so fast they blurred.

One of the attackers, slender and looking to be the youngest of the group, kicked out with the blade of his foot, and the smirking figure caught his leg, and deftly flipped him over before his friend even had a chance to attack. "Good!" the man called as he blocked two swift punches from the other fighter. "You actually hit me, that time!"

Before another second passed, both fighters that faced the smirking man were rubbing their knees on the stone floor.

He offered them each a hand. "Take a minute, and calm your minds. You are getting better, but I'm sure Valtris will want you for archery practice, soon."

"Vespyr," the youngest one complained, "I hate using a bow."

"Hate it or not, it's a necessary skill," Vespyr told him, patting his shoulder. His gaze flickered up from the people in front of him, to Brazen and Katerin where they both gawked by the door, and he smiled as his gaze falling to Brazen. "You have a look that says you would very much like a sparring match."

Brazen grinned. "I use weapons, usually. But I would like to try."

Katerin winced internally, as Brazen stepped forward. He fought like every move was life and death, and she did not want to see anyone injured. "Be careful," she called.

Vespyr's eyes found hers. "I won't hurt him," he promised with a kind tone.

Brazen gave her a wide smile and a wave.

Before she could tell Vespyr that was not what she meant, the two were already in the center of the room. Katerin sighed and sat back against the wall with a shake of her head.

A few seconds passed where they stood, neither moving, until the stone elf chuckled. "You can attack me whenever you wish."

Brazen stepped forward and threw out a heavy punch, that never came near to Vespyr as he stepped aside, and grasped Brazen's wrist with two fingers.

"Like this, or you'll break something." Vespyr threw a punch forward, but kept his arm loose, never locking his joints. "And keep your hand relaxed." He showed Brazen his palm, both with fingers extended straight, or only curled at the top. "You get more power from your impact."

His instruction went on for a few more minutes, with a dozen small reminders to keep arms loose, and eventually the two went back to sparring.

After a dozen attempts of trying and failing to hit his opponent Brazen grew visibly frustrated, and Katerin let herself smile. His brow was furled and sweating, and watching emotion effect him was something she still was not used to, something that was a miracle, and something that nearly brought tears to her eyes. She was not a religious woman, in fact, her general view of the gods was a wish that they might leave her well enough alone. But Trunks goddess had given her a miracle.

The match continued, and Brazen landed a half a dozen hits against Vespyr, though most were glancing blows. The man never struck back at him, only evading, and feigning.

Both faces were strange mixes of smiles and concentration. Finally, Brazen swung forward and clipped Vespyr on the jaw, a hard enough blow to leave most reeling, but the man kicked forward, leg arcing up as elegantly as any blade, and kicked Brazen in the shoulder, costing him his balance and sending him skidding across the floor.

Brazen huffed, but smiled up at him as he got to his feet. "How did you do that?" he asked, as he rubbed a hand across his shoulder.

"Many years of focus, and practice," Vespyr said. "You have a clear mind when you fight with your axe, do you not? My body is the only weapon I need."

Brazen bit his lip.

"You did good," Katerin said, nodding to Brazen.

"I could barely even hit him."

"And yet you still did." She grinned.

"If you had your axe you wouldn't have thought so much, and acted more. Yet, I do not want to lose my limbs," Vespyr said, offering him a smile. He looked to Katerin. "Would you like to try to best me?"

Katerin shook her head. "I don't fight with my hands. I am more likely to break my fingers."

"A staff then? I saw you carrying one when you came in." There was a challenge in his eyes.

"Alright," Katerin said, as he moved to the wall and pulled to staffs of equal weight and size from a rack along the far wall.

He tossed her one of the wooden weapons, and moved to the center of the room, giving her a moment to adjust to the weapon. "Where did you learn to use one?"

"The Tower. A college of magical study. And I did a bit of sparring with a friend."

He gave her a suspicious look, almost worried.

"Take it easy on me," she said, humor in her tone.

"I will not, but nor will I be cruel."

She shrugged.

"Ready?" he asked.

Katerin nodded, and before her head had stopped moving his staff was arcing towards her, for her leg. She planted her own weapon to block the blow, and pivoted around it, swinging out for his arm. Her staff moved through open air as Vespyr was no longer standing where he had been a moment before. She dropped into a crouch instinctively, and heard his staff whistle above her head. She drove her weapon back, and up from her crouch and felt it impact and heard a grunt, as she rose and turned to face him.

"Excellent reflexes!" he said, grinning,

She only smiled, loathe to admit that Lugaria had rather harshly trained her how to avoid opponents when they attacked from behind, by lugging a giant bat of a 'practice sword' at her head from every angle he could.

The sound of their staffs impacting one another was clamorous, and rang around the chamber in a chaotic sort of music, as each of them worked to balance the speed and power of their attacks, aiming to sting, instead of clobber each other, while still having enough speed to actually impact.

Vespyr swung in a wide arc and Katerin had to dive towards him to avoid being hit. He pushed a knee up with little enough force to only shove her away, and moved gracefully back to a better striking range, as her eyes grew wide.

"Sorry. I promised I would only use the staff," he said, as he ducked her newest blow.

She laughed, and hopped on one foot to avoid his tripping attack as it dragged across the stone like the fin of a shark.

They circled each other and moved about the room for another minute, each only scoring minor hits, a shoulder here, a shin there. But as Vespyr fought he seemed to only grow more enthusiastic, where Katerin was now beginning to tire. Her breathing and accuracy were beginning to falter, as he seemed to only grow calmer and more focused.

They traded blows again, in a quick flurry, and then he was behind her again, as if he had simply appeared there. She hefted her weapon behind her, to parry before she spun, and faced him as their weapons smacked together. He pulled his staff free and twirled it, feigning to her right side.

Never had she fallen victim to such a feint, as he pulled the blow back and swept it for her leg once again. Within a second she was on the stone floor, fighting to catch her breath.

A myriad of stinging sensations met her. First the sting of the welt on her leg, second the sting to her pride, and thirdly, the inquisitive sting of not knowing how in the hells he had done it.

"I am sorry I underestimated you," he said, as he offered her his hand.

"If that was under estimation I fear I would rather not see what you view as competence," she said as she began brushing the dust from her pants and wiping her hair from her face. It had fallen free of its tie at some point that she could not recall.

"Vespyr, it is rude to beat the guests," a woman said, standing near Brazen and waiting with her hands clasped.

"I would never do that!" He insisted. "We were sparring."

The woman eyed the welt along his arm, and Katerin's ginger steps on her leg. "Regardless, dinner is ready and Salen was looking for you. Something about his boy."

"Of course." Vespyr nodded. "I'll be along." He hefted both staves and put them back in their places along the wall. As Katerin moved to join Brazen. "Will you join us, tonight?"

Katerin bit her lip. "I don't think that's a good idea. We seem to make some people uncomfortable. And we have plenty of our own provisions we don't need to trou—"

"The people here are a suspicious lot," Vespyr said, waving a hand in the air. "Believe me when I say that looks are not of hatred, but caution. They will never be the first to make the effort, though that does not mean they do not want to. Gather your family and join us. We do not mean to make you feel unwelcome."

"Oh, you don't make us feel unwelcome at all I just—"

"Join us, and the animosity will pass quicker than the rains." He spoke the last words with a giant grin, and a wink. "I will save you a spot, and you can meet my son," he said, looking to Brazen.