The sun beamed down upon Nyal, heating up his clothing so that the cloth burned his skin. It was an unusually hot day for Skodur, especially at this time of year, it was going into the colder season. Even his horse was hot, if he put his hands on her body, they burned slightly. He winced as he touched the leather of the reins, feeling bad for his poor horse.

Ahead of him, Elora was also sitting on her own horse, her black wings drooping, hanging around the horses legs. She still wore her cloak, but her hood was down, her dark hair flying around in the light breeze. He thought she was insane to be going around in the heat dressed the way she was, but he didn't hear her complaining.

They hadn't been on the road for long, having only left that morning (much to Elora's annoyance), and it had just hit the middle of the day. It had taken him a bit to get everything sorted and to say goodbye to people.

He hadn't had much in his room to pack, some clothes, his sword, and Elora had made him pack Ringwild's book in his bag for some reason. Then his roomates had come in, questioning what he was doing. Elora had told him to lie if anyone asked where he was going or what he was doing. He had to tell them that he quit and was going traveling around Veridun like he had before he was hired by the Guild.

His housemates hadn't really been too upset about his news. They wished him well and helped his pack his things. He didn't think he would miss them that much. Maris teared up a little when he finally found her. He would definitely miss the woman, and he would have to come back to visit when he could, if he could.

Azel, on the other hand, was the worst. He didn't say goodbye to him, no, the warlock was there when he was explaining everything to the others. Like every other conversation with Azel, it didn't end well.

"I'm just going traveling around Veridun, like I used to," Nyal had been saying when Azel walked into the room, "It'll be better that way."

"What happened?" Azel had asked, smirking at the pair when he saw Nyal's bags, "You leaving?"

"What's it to you?" Nyal had replied, giving Azel his best glare, "You're leaving too."

"Did you get fired?" Azel had ignored everything Nyal had said to him, as per usual, "It would make sense, as I said earlier, you're a terrible warlock. I'm grateful for it, really, it means I get to go to Fiume instead of you."

"Azel!" one of the others had yelled, "He's leaving, the least you could do is be nice to him!"

Azel had looked like he was thinking for a bit, before he sneered, "Not going to happen. He's finally going, I'm happy about it."

Nyal had simply shrugged. It wasn't like he was ever going to see Azel again, so why bother arguing right now. He was doing something so important, the other warlock would never understand.

"Enjoy Fiume," he said, picking up his small bags from next to his feet. He had just planned to wave goodbye to his housemates and leave, but as soon as he reached the door, he had gotten the best idea.

Nyal had left his house with bruised and bloody knuckles. It wasn't his blood, it was Azel's, who now had a broken nose to take with him to Fiume. He had been feeling smug, very smug, until he found Elora outside the city gates. She was glaring at him, the two horses they would be using for their journey at her side. She hadn't been very happy to hear that they wouldn't be leaving until later in the morning. By the time Nyal had gotten himself packed, it was early in the morning, the sun hadn't even began to rise and he was exhausted. After an argument with Elora, he had been able to catch only a few hours sleep.

Nyal was taken from his thoughts by the sound of his horse neighing. He shook his head, flexing his bruised hand. He smriked, he didn't regret punching Azel, in fact, if he was being really honest, he enjoyed it. The bastard had had it coming for months.

He groaned, looking at the flat ground around him. Skodur was always very flat, barely any hills or rivers, the landscape was either cramped forestry or large green fields that stretched on and on. At the moment, it was the fields of dull green grass that would reach up to his knees if he wasn't on the horse. He could hear the sound of the blades brushing against each other in the light breeze. He could hear the bugs chirping, an irritating cacophony of buzzing and chirping, mixed with the sound of the horses hooves as they moved along the dirt path.

They were heading east, he knew that much, but Elora wouldn't tell him where they were going exactly. She wouldn't even give him a general direction, he had to figure out that much for himself. They hadn't been travelling long, but it was already starting to annoy hi. He wasn't being told anything, even though he supposed to be helping save the bloody realm.

He sighed, adjusting his position on his horse. He hadn't ridden one in quite a long time and was still adjusting to it. Elora hadn't told him the horses name, only that she was female.

"Yararanje says you're irritated," Elora said suddenly, drawing Nyal's gaze to her. She hadn't turned to face him, but he could tell she didn't really care about what she was asking. He could just imagine the bored look on her face.

"I don't feel very comfortable with someone knowing my thoughts," he replied, deflecting the question.

"Too bad," Elora said nonchalantly, "He's been doing it for years."

Nyal grimaced, adjusting himself on the horse once more. "I have a question," he stated.

"What?"

"Where are we going?"

Now Elora turned to look at him. She stared at him with a single eyebrow raised and her strange eyes narrowed. "That's for me to know, and you to find out."

"Why?"

"Just in case."

"In case of what?"

Ahead of him, Elora shrugged. "Just in case something happens."

"By the Gods, won't Yararanje know if we're in danger?" Nyal exclaimed, growing more and more irritated with his companion by the minute. They hadn't even been on the road a day and he was already sick of it. "He can see everything he creates, right?"

Elora stopped, waiting for Nyal to catch up to him before she answered him. She gave him a weird look, like he was one of the stupidest people she had ever met. "Yararanje didn't create the Zlohiel," she said.

"Wait, what?" Nyal asked, mouth opened wide, "That's what we were taught."

"Well, what you were taught is wrong," Elora replied, "Trust me, I was there."

"So, who did then?"

"Zeteliorem."

Zeteliorem was the goddess of death, who carried the souls of the dead to their final resting place. The question was, why was she creating things? As far as he had been taught, Zeteliorem was Yararanje's daughter, and couldn't create things. He had been taught that Yararanje had created the Ancient Ones.

"It seems that as time went on, the stories got switched around, changed. I did expect that," Elora started, "I can tell you what really happened, if you want."

"It would help to know as much as possible," Nyal said snarily, glaring at Elora.

The Gate Keeper glared right back, her bright green eyes locked on his. She said nothing for quite a while, just stared at him, but he got the message, don't get snarky at the Gate Keeper.

"Zeteliorem is Yararanje's sister," she finally said, the first words shocking Nyal, "At the beginning, before I was created, they each created their own species. Zeteliorem created the Zhlohiel, and Yararanje created all the species you see now. Because of that, only Zeteliorem can see where the dragon is."

He was silent for a while. His entire view on his religion had just changed. Lies, he had been taught lies, maybe not the biggest ones, but who knows what else could be wrong. "Can't you talk to her?" he asked.

"No."

"But, can't you talk to Yararanje?"

"No, he talks to me," Elora said, "I can't answer him."

Nyal let out a curse, tightening his fists on the reins. It just had to be like that, a chance at something useful, and then it's gone. This whole thing was a mess, he whole life had been turned upside down in less than a week, all because he happened to be in the forest at the wrong time.

"Will Yararanje tell you where the dragon is? Can't he ask her?"

Elora paused for a minute, looking up to the bright blue sky. "He won't interfere. He says we must deal with it ourselves."

Nyal frowned, glancing up at the sky. "Is that his way of saying he's too lazy to help us?"

For a second he was sure he'd said something wrong, he had just insulted the Gate Keeper's father after all. He looked to her, eyebrows furrowed in worry, but he relaxed when he saw her face. She was smiling, only a little one, but a smile nonetheless. "Yes," she chuckled.

Nyal laughed, suddenly feeling like there was some kind of wait off his shoulders. He hadn't discovered anything useful, stopped the dragon, or done anything that would be of any use to his and Elora's journey, but he felt so much more relaxed now.

The pair laughed together for a bit, some kind of relief in the mess that was their lives right now. They trotted side by side in the hot sunlight, one of them knowing where they were going, the other following blindly.

It wasn't until late afternoon that they reached the farmlands, fields of wheat and vegetables replacing the high grass. The sun was started to set, throwing an orange light on the dirt track ahead of the pair.

It had gotten colder and the wind had picked up, goosebumps covering the skin of Nyal's arms. He shivered, pulling his coat tighter around himself. He still didn't know where he was, or where he was going. It was still just East, on an unknown road.

"Where are we?" he asked Elora.

"I don't know," was the reply.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Nyal asked, confused.

"I normally fly to where I need to go, so I don't know for sure what's down here," Elora answered, "Guess I'm finding out tonight. We'll stop here for the night, I hope it won't affect anything, seeing as we are way behind the dragon anyway. You're tired though, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"Then we stay at whatever town is coming up for the night."

"Sound like a plan, I guess."

The pair trotted along the dirt road, watching at the small town rose up to meet them. The closer they got, the more familiar it was to Nyal, like he had been there before. He probably had, on one of his missions by the Guild, but it felt like more than that, like he had been there for something really important.

It was an old town, mostly used for farming and trade. The houses were made from dark wood, most likely imported from the other side of Dreeva, where most of the forests lay. They looked rickety, like they were going to fall apart any minute. The orange glow of the setting sun made the whole town look dreary and sombre.

People wandered about, talking to friends and going to the local inn for a drink. Children ran up and down the small stretch of road, giggling and screaming. It was a lot like Dreeva, just much smaller.

It was so familiar to Nyal, yet he couldn't place when he had been there before. A group of teenage girls wandered out of a nearby shop, stopping short when they saw the pair on their horses.

"Is it?" one girl asked.

"It is!" another squealed. They were staring straight at them, and for a second Nyal thought they had recognised Elora.

"Sir Belthorne!" the first girl cried, rushing towards his horse. "Sir Belthorne!"

"Sir?" Elora questioned next to him, raising an eyebrow at him.

Startled, Nyal stopped and climbed down from his horse, facing the strange girl head on. She jumped him, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing tightly. "Do you remember me?" she asked as she pulled away.

As he was staring at the girl, trying to remember her face, Elora sighed and climbed down from her horse to watch. The rest of the girls surrounded him, and he finally remembered who he was talking to.

"Amelia!" he cried, "Wow, you've grown! How long has it been?"

"Three years!" the excited girl replied. The Fae girl would have to be fourteen, if Nyal remembered correctly. She had been eleven when he had last seen her. Back then, she was a small girl with a chubby face and freckled cheeks. Now though, she had grown taller, coming to just below his shoulder, she had filled out as well, growing curves and other lady things he probably shouldn't take notice of. Her face was less chubby, more angular than it had been. Her ginger hair still fell straight down her face and shoulders, resting at the middle of her back.

"I'm so sorry I never visited," Nyal replied, feeling guilty, "I've never had the time."

"It's okay, Sir Belthorne, you're very busy, I bet!" Amelia cried, smiling brightly at him. SHe completely ignored the other girls around her, probably her friends.

"Hello, Sir Belthorne," a small voice whispered. Nyal looked down to see Mikayla, Amelia's younger sister, who was only nine when he had last been here.

He crouched down, ruffling the little girl's hair, "Mikayla! Hello!" he said, smiling at her. She giggled, pushing his hand away.

Behind him, a throat cleared. Nyal turned to see Elora's disapproving face. "I take it you know where we are," she said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, this is Hav," he replied, shooting the girls a quick smile. "I came here about three years back. I just didn't remember what it looked like."

"Oh, Sir Belthorne!" Amelia said, drawing Nyal's attention back to her, "Mother would love to see you, won't you come see her? We can get the other girls to look after your horses!"

He looked to Elora for confirmation, but she didn't seem to care. "I suppose I could, we need to spend the night here anyway."

"Oh, yay!" Mikayla exclaimed, grabbing Nyal's hand as Amelia ran past him to grab Elora's. Nyal laughed when he saw the disgusted look on his companion's face.

"Stop that, they won't hurt you, they're just kids," he laughed as he was pulled along by the twelve-year-old. Elora sneered, still looking uncomfortable, but allowed herself to be pulled along anyway.

"Mother!" Amelia yelled, dragging thetwo adults down the road, "Look who I found!"