The dawn light was visible first upon the peaks of the mountains to the west, setting the white snow a blazing scarlet. The light ran like liquid fire down the flanks of the mountains, paling as it did so, as if transferring its pigmentation to the red clouds in the eastern sky. Feral blinked and yawned as the light hit his window, stretching, then settling back under the warm sheets, quickly falling asleep again.

“Morning, squirt!” Cassanya stuck her head around the door as the half-race rolled over, blinking sleepily at her. “You sure slept well,” the leonin smiled, entering the room, carrying a tray from which emanated the unmistakable smell of breakfast.

“What time is it?” Feral asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Needs about an hour to midday. Didn’t think you’d want to sleep the whole day away. Here,” she put the tray down next to him as he sat up. Eggs, bacon, buttered bread, fried mushrooms, a bowl of porridge, a glass of milk and a pot of tea beamed up from it.

“You sure this is all mine?” Feral looked at Cassanya as she perched on the edge of his bed.

“’Course,” she smiled. “Skinny little thing that you are, you need a good breakfast.” She watched as he began to eat. “Kid? Will you promise me something?”

“Sure,” he nodded, without even thinking that he didn’t know what he was promising.

“While you’re here, make sure you get plenty to eat?”

Blinking, Feral’s expression moved towards bemusement.

“I know you’ve not exactly had any good meals, recently... and I’m really sorry about that,” Cassanya went on. “I just... well, truth be told I’ve not really noticed how thin you were looking. I hadn’t seen you outside of a shirt until last night.”

“I’m ok, you know,” Feral said gently. “Really. This is not me underweight, this is how I am.”

“Are you sure?” Cassanya looked genuinely concerned, so much so that Feral couldn’t help laughing.

“I’m no leonin. I’m not built for muscle. Not sure what I am built for, but it’s definitely not muscle,” he added with a lopsided smile, his ears echoing the slant.

“Well, ok, if you’re sure, kiddo. But you will eat all you need while you’re here, right?”

Feral laughed. “Of course. If last night’s apple pie was anything to go by, Tee’s not a half a bad cook!”

“You wait,” Cassanya raised her eyebrows. “Now she’s making food for more than just her, you’ll find the next one’s twice as good.”

“Then I’ll have to eat twice as much,” Feral smiled, resuming his porridge.

“Good lad, that’s the spirit. We’ll get some meat on those bones yet.”

“Mmm,” Feral agreed, not quite sure what to say.

“How are you for a trip into Riverwood today? About two miles, no hills,” Cassanya smiled. “We can get you some nice clean clothes, and get those boots fixed up.”

“Only if you tell me how you got that collar off, and then do it to mine,” Feral said, noticing for the first time that the leonin had rid herself of the mark of captivity.

“Deal,” Cassanya nodded. “There’s tools in the woodshed. We’ll go sort it when you’re done,” she indicated his plate. “And dressed,” she added as an afterthought. “And you better not tell me you’ve nothing on under that blanket either,” she narrowed her eyes at the sheet scrunched around his waist.

Feral went red. “Uh, actually... Tee had found me some clean underwear before I went to sleep...”

Cassanya giggled. “The ones with the embroidered tulips?”

“Roses.”

“Ooo, very nice.”

“If you don’t have a tail, and happen to be a girl, I’m sure they are,” Feral nodded. “Unfortunately nature discriminates against me yet again,” he sighed wearily, adopting a glum expression.

Cassanya creased up laughing.

“Ouch, that looks like it hurts,” she said, about a quarter of an hour later, dropping the detached collar into the dirt.

Feral ran his fingers gingerly over the bruises the iron had left on his collar bones. “Had worse,” he shrugged. This didn’t stop Cassanya from locating Tallow and asking her advice, however, with the result that Feral found himself smeared with a sticky brown paste that fortunately didn’t smell as bad as it looked.

“Trust me,” Cassanya said, wrapping a bandage over both his shoulders to provide some extra padding. “Tee’s great with this kind of thing. You’ll hardly have a mark left by tomorrow. There you go,” she added, standing back to ruffle his hair before handing him his shirt. “All done. Ready to go?”

Riverwood was small as towns went, but seemed reasonably ‘well to do.’ Cassanya explained that it was the westernmost river town of any importance this side of the mountains, and as such, received a considerable amount of trade, especially since there were quite a few precious metals to be found in the nearby mines. Then she went quiet, looking thoughtful, and angry.

Cassanya’s favourite tailor’s shop was located on the town’s main road, which ran parallel with the riverbank. It was rather an old building, the upper floors leaning out somewhat over the cobbled street, but the inside was clean and warm, with nicely padded seats to sit on while waiting.

The tinkling of a small bell above the door brought a lutrani woman from around the back of the main counter. About five feet tall, perhaps fourty years of age, and wearing a blue apron, she had a selection of measuring tapes draped over her shoulders, and a vast quantity of pins stuck through the cuffs of both sleeves of her white blouse. She smiled when she saw Cassanya.

“Oh, hi Miss Northpride, been a while since you was ‘ere,” she said cheerily, leaning back a little to look up at the leonin. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi, Tess, I brought you some new customers,” Cassanya smiled back, and put her hand on Feral’s shoulder. “We’re gonna need replacements for everything they’ve got. It’s got to be hard wearing, too.”

“Oh yeah? C’mere, luv,” the lutrani gestured for Feral to step forward. “Well now, you’re certainly not going to be boring to make for, now are you?” She measured him up as she spoke, writing several numbers down with a stick of chalk on a small piece of slate. “Going on another long trip are you?” she looked at Cassanya again.

“Yup,” the leonin nodded.

“Anywhere nice?”

Feral tried not to wriggle as the lutrani measured round his waist, tickling him.

“Not really, just off to visit some friends on the coast.”

“Aye? You want to watch yourself there. Strong lass like you might find herself pushed into the army.”

“The army?” Cassanya raised her eyebrows.

“Goodness, you were away a while,” Tess commented. “Don’t you know there’s a war on?”

The leonin coughed slightly. “I’d… heard a couple of rumours.”

“It’s that damn Lordenor lot,” the lutrani declared. “You can’t trust a monarchy, it’s that simple,” she stated. “Always knew they’d be out for us, sooner or later. Are you sure you need to go?”

Cassanya nodded.

“Well, you be careful, luv. I’d not like to hear you were caught up in the fighting. They say,” she looked at the leonin and lowered her tone. “That the army commander has a pet dragon, and that’s why they’re doing so well.”

“Really?” For a moment, Cassanya’s air of innocence faltered a little, but thankfully the lutrani didn’t seem to notice.

Tess laughed. “Yeah, I know, load of second hand grass, but it’s a good story,” she grinned.

“Um, yeah. I mean, whoever heard of such a thing?” the leonin could feel the gaze of her friends and shifted uncomfortably. Fortunately, Tess came unwittingly to her rescue.

“There y’go, luv, all done,” she said brightly to Feral. “I’ve got a good few things we can adjust to fit quick like, though I guess we’ll need a small alteration to the trousers,” she patted his bottom just to one side of his fluffy tail, making him jump. “What exactly are you after?”

Cassanya ordered Feral a spare set of everything, as well as a new shirt and a heavy coat, in case winter came upon them before they finished their travels. She briefly considered buying him a hat, but realised that she wasn’t going to get one that fit his head without having to cut holes in it for his ears. Tess had most of what they wanted, but said the vest would need making up, and that they would have to come back a little later. She shouted her instructions through a door behind the counter, and passed the slate to a younger lutrani, who nodded enthusiastically and vanished again.

“New assistant, Tess?” Cassanya asked.

“Yes,” the lutrani nodded. “Good job he was around, actually, poor Hevena’s been feeling a bit off colour recently.”

“Oh, I’m sorry…”

“Nah, she’ll be ok, just a little woozy, I think. She’s three months pregnant, you know.” Tess raised her eyebrows meaningfully.

“Really? How did that happen then?”

A snort of laughter sounded, and Cassanya turned to find Blue looking at her from across the room.

“Oh, yes, of course,” she felt her cheeks go pink.

Hastily clearing her throat, she turned to Balthor, looking at him critically and saying something about finding clothes for him too. Tess moved to stand at her elbow, suggesting a rather interesting purple waistcoat and asking if she wanted him to take the lupari’s measurements for it. Seeing Balthor looking at her with a pleading expression, the leonin smiled and asked the lutrani if she could perhaps find something rather more standard. Tess sighed deeply, muttered a little, then found a set of step ladders on which to climb while she measured him from head to toe.

Blue was somewhat easier to please, explaining that anything that didn’t have holes in it was going to be an upgrade. Cassanya quietly agreed, but didn’t say anything as Tess located vest and pants that he seemed quite content with just as they were.

“Anything for you this time, dear?” Tess asked, looking up at Cassanya.

The leonin shook her head. “No, sorry, Tess. On a bit of a budget I’m afraid.”

“Aw c’mon, dear, I’m sure you can manage something nice for yourself. Oh, I know just the thing, suit you fine it would,” and with that, she vanished through the door behind the counter, only to reappear moments later. “What about this?” she asked, holding something out to the leonin. Taking it, Cassanya found herself holding a beautiful crimson scarf. Light as feathers, and neither warm nor cold to the touch, it felt wonderful.

“Pure silk, it is. Hard to come by around here,” Tess was saying. “Go on, dear, try it on,” she prompted. Carefully, Cassanya tied it around her neck, knotting it in the hollow of her throat. It felt very nice against her fur as she leaned to look in the mirror at the side of the shop.

“See? I knew it was just the thing,” Tess said proudly. She was right, the leonin thought, it did add a certain something.

“What do you think?” she asked, turning to her friends behind her.

“I like it,” Feral said. Blue nodded in agreement.

“Lookin’ good, Cassy,” Balthor smiled as she turned to him.

“All right, Tess, how much?” the leonin asked, looking down at the lutrani, untying the knot carefully.

Tess pursed her lips, thoughtfully. “Now I know you won’t like this, dear, but you know I always give you a good deal, especially when you bring in some business like this. Five silver, an’ I’m not even making a profit.”

Cassanya looked at the scarf in her hands. “It is beautiful,” she said. “But it’s not really practical is it? I’m sorry, Tess, I can’t justify that much. Not on this.” Regretfully, she passed it back to the shopkeeper, who folded it carefully.

“C’mon, Cassy,” Balthor said, moving to stand near her. “I’m sure we could manage…”

Cassanya looked at him, then shook her head, rather sadly. Balthor found himself desperately wishing he had the money to buy the scarf for her, but was well aware the last of his funds had been spent weeks ago.

“All right, dear,” Tess sighed. “I understand. If you change your mind, I’m sure it’ll still be here in a day or two.”

After a little good-natured haggling about the price, the friends finally concluded business with instructions to come back later that day, say in about four or five hours. Tess vanished into the back of her shop, and they could hear her passing instructions to her assistant as they exited.

The next shop they visited was the cobbler’s down the road. After the travelling they had all been doing recently, the soles of their boots were badly in need of replacement. The muscai was rather pleased to find four customers arriving all at once on a rather slow day, and chatted amiably to them as he worked.

Still left with a few hours before they were to return to Tess, the companions made their way to the small marketplace. Saying he would meet them back at Tess’s shop, Blue wandered off on his own. Feral looked worriedly after him, but decided it was probably better not to interfere.

They spent their time in the market mostly window shopping, as Cassanya insisted that their budget was by no means lavish – although that didn’t stop her buying Feral a slice of blackberry pie. The most useful thing they found was that the rumour about a dragon with the Lordenor army had circulated the entire town, and was in fact still doing so, though reports ranged from a captured baby dragon, to a flight of dragons that filled the entire sky. Although somewhat dubious as to the accuracy of either, it was nonetheless an obvious cause for concern.

They returned to Tess’ shop with a couple of hours until sunset, finding Blue already waiting for them, talking merrily with the lutrani, who seemed to have taken rather a shine to him. He had acquired a walking stick from somewhere, and one of the pouches on his belt seemed rather fuller than it had earlier. His companions groaned inwardly, but said nothing.

“You sure about this, dear?” Tess asked Cassanya, holding up the scarf again as the leonin paid the agreed price for the other clothes they had bought.

Cassanya looked long and hard before finally replying, “I’m sorry, Tess, I just can’t afford it. Maybe another time.” All the same, she couldn’t keep just a little of the regret out of her voice, and she left quickly, leaving the others to collect their things and follow at their own pace.

Blue watched her leave, then watched Balthor and Feral pick up their own packages and follow. He slipped one hand into a pocket, feeling the fiver silver coins he had managed to keep hold of. Well, it only seemed fair, he decided.

They were about half way home, the tiring sun swooping towards the horizon when Balthor jumped about a foot in the air at a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he found Blue looking up at him, his new walking stick still raised where he had used it to reach up.

“What?” Balthor asked sharply, annoyed at the sciurel for surprising him, and at himself for jumping like an idiot.

Silently, Blue passed him a small package. Rough cloth, tied with string, and evidently containing something very soft. After a moment, as realisation began to sink in what it was, Blue said, “I figured you’d know what to do with this. An’ just to make you ‘appy,” he passed the lupari a small piece of parchment.

“What’s this?” the lupari asked.

“The receipt. Now that’s not from me, all right?” With that, he jogged forwards and whacked Feral lightly on the back of the head, promptly drawing the young half-race into a chase along the road and well out of range of suspicion.

Balthor looked at the package, then quickly hid it behind his back as Cassanya turned to look at him, amused as their companions vanished off up the roadway, laughing. So what else am I supposed to tell her? Balthor wondered.

It took him a while to figure that out, and Cassanya was just getting up out of her armchair to go to bed when he finally passed her the small package. She looked at it curiously, opened it and gasped. Lifting the silken cloth, she looked at him in amazement. “When? How?” was all she could think of to ask.

The lupari cleared his throat, a little self-consciously. “I, uh, forgot I hadn’t checked this pocket earlier,” he said lamely, patting a tiny pocket sewn into the lining of his vest. “Guess I had a few coins I didn’t know about, so I thought…” he trailed off. Cassanya was giving him one of those looks again.

“Look, I got a receipt,” he said brightly, holding it out. She glanced down at it and blinked, then looked back at him. “You gonna try it on?” he asked, hoping to distract her from questioning further. She did so, adjusted it slightly then looked at herself in the mirror that hung on the wall of the drawing room. She had to admit, she really liked it.

“You look great, Cassy,” Balthor said, standing behind her and looking too. She does too, he thought, happy that she was so pleased, and wishing that he could find more ways to make her smile so.

Turning, she squeezed the breath out of him with a powerful hug, lifting his feet a few inches off the floor. “Thank you, Thor,” she said, kissing him on the cheek and making his ears go warm. “It’s beautiful.”

“Ah, heck,” he said, trying to breathe normally. “I figure it about pays the bill for my stuff. Lets just call it quits, huh?”

She gave him one final squeeze, then put him down and looked at him with one eyebrow raised. Then she grinned. “Goodnight, Thor,” she said warmly, patting his cheek, then turned and left, heading for the stairs. “Sleep well.”

Balthor looked after her. “G’night, Cassy,” he said quietly. Then, checking his spine was still straight, he picked up the last lightglobe and headed for his own bed.

 

It was only on the second day as Fellirion’s guests that Feral found time to ask a question he had been wondering about for some time. It was one that seemed like it should be asked of Tallow, and he found her kneeling in the herb garden in the courtyard. He wondered if she always wore tunics with a masculine cut, or if it was just the way this one looked on her. Combined with hair cut shorter than his own, and an absence of any make up or jewellery, there was very little about Tallow that would give away her feminine nature – at least not when seen from a distance or in poor light. Feral couldn’t help wondering whether that was intentional.

“Hello,” she smiled up at him as he approached, before returning her attention to the small, rather sickly looking plant in front of her. To her left the raven, Woodward, perched on the handle of a spade. With a flutter of wings, he suddenly alighted on Feral’s shoulder. Feral stroked the black feathers lightly, watching as Tallow took a small leather pouch out of one of her pockets. Dipping her fingers into it, she withdrew a small amount of a dark brown powder, which she sprinkled over the ailing herb, quietly murmuring something Feral didn’t catch. This done, she applied a dose of water from a small clay pot to the base of the plant’s stem.

Pushing the first and second fingers of her left hand – her right still being bandaged – into the damp soil on either side, she closed her eyes and spoke under her breath once again. Finishing by taking a deep breath, she blew softly across the somewhat browned leaves of the little plant. Much to Feral’s surprise, the herb seemed to flood immediately with a healthy green, the wrinkled brown leaves smoothing, the bent stem straightening as if reaching for the sky. Within seconds the sickly little thing looked as healthy as the other plants around it.

Tallow opened her eyes and looked up at Feral’s expression. “You just have to know how to talk to them,” she said smiling. “And if you look on that tree behind you, I asked it last night for some more apples.” Feral felt a little dubious, as he was pretty sure it had been devoid of fruit the night before, but he had already witnessed one botanical surprise this morning, so why not another?

Tallow was quite right, he soon realised. Several healthy looking apples hung from the branches of the small tree. At Tallow’s indication he carefully removed them and placed them in a basket placed nearby as she tidied up her small collection of gardening tools. When he had all half dozen of the fruits, he found her looking at him meaningfully. Feeling just a little foolish, but fairly sure he knew what she was hoping for, Feral thanked the tree and gave it a small half bow. Tallow beamed.

Remembering what he had come to ask in the first place, Feral finally asked his question.

“What do you know about my sword?” he said, patting the sheathed blade that hung from his belt.

“Ah, I wondered if you were going to ask about that,” Tallow raised her eyebrows. She took the basket of apples from him, then led him into the main building and along a corridor to a large library, Woodward riding on Feral’s shoulder, having apparently decided he was interesting.

Row upon row of highly polished wooden shelves supported great tomes of knowledge from across the world, some bound in the best leather, others merely scrolls tied with a ribbon.

“All these are spell books?” Feral asked, looking upwards and revolving slowly on the spot.

“Goodness, no,” Tallow smiled. She pointed to some of the shelves. “History, geography, philosophy, astronomy, fluid dynamics.” Feral wondered about this one but didn’t interrupt. “Palaeontology, botany, zoology, my favourite sections…”

“Science books?” Feral asked, surprised.

“That’s right,” Tallow nodded.

“But I thought uncle Felli is…”

“A mage. Or a wizard as some people like to say. I prefer mage, it’s less confusing and takes away some of the air of mystery.”

“And you…”

“An apprentice.”

“Uh-huh... But what has science to do with magic?” Feral felt confused.

Tallow looked at him with a puzzled smile. “Well how can you hope to change a thing you don’t understand?”

Feral opened his mouth, but failed to find a suitable answer. He closed it again in confusion.

“Magic is not hit and miss guesswork, or the recital of spells that have been known forever,” Tallow explained gently. “It’s not just something you can do with a careless phrase and a hand wave. It’s a very precise art, and requires the right key ingredients. The spell caster has to have a good understanding of what it is they are trying to achieve, and the processes involved in that act, as well as everything that nature has lined up to prevent the spell from working. The trick is to use the magic to change the balance a little, so that things go in your favour.”

Seeing that Feral still looked blank, she continued.

“Try not to think of magic as bringing something from nothing, that’s really very difficult and takes a lot of energy – and it usually doesn’t last long enough to be useful. Magic is… a tool that we can use to manipulate things that already exist, like the parsley this morning. The powder is a mix of ash and bat droppings, a very good fertiliser, I find. The water… well, all plants need water. A bit of both, and it would have perked up in a couple of days anyway. The spell is just an accelerant, something to get things going quicker. Or sometimes slower… Point is you have to start with the right ingredients, and the right environment. You can’t make a fire burn under water, for example, but you can make a candle burn faster, or snuff it out.”

Feral wasn’t quite sure he felt any more enlightened. “So how about the viewing pool…?”

“Ah, um, yes,” Tallow looked a little uncertain. “Tell the truth, I don’t really understand that one myself. Mister Forester seems to. Something about long wave radiation… The books are over in the optics section, but I don’t follow the mathematics. Fortunately that doesn’t matter, it’s possible to imbue an object with enough magic that it will do its job even without a knowledgeable user. All I have to do is know right the keyspell for the frequency.”

Definitely no more enlightened.

“All right,” Tallow went on, sounding slightly irritated. “Just think of it as either you understand what you’re trying to magic, or you use an enchanted item to do it for you.”

Feral nodded. “That I can handle. About this...?”

“Yes, of course,” Tallow nodded, then looked around the library uncertainly. “Now, where did I put that book...” Apparently failing to spot it anywhere nearby, she located a set of sturdy timber stepladders, positioning them against a set of shelves with the word ‘history’ engraved at the top. Squinting in the sun that shone through the high windows, she pulled a book off the top shelf, carefully checking the handwritten script on the spine. Descending, she led Feral over to a desk in the middle of the library. Tallow opened the tome at a page indicated by a leather bookmark.

“Here you go, I checked up on it while you were out yesterday.” She moved to one side, giving Feral space to look at the book while she continued. “The sword is, as mister Forester said, the Shining Blade. Known in old language as the ‘Tath-Meyon’ it was forged during the Dragon Wars by a master metalsmith and mage, it was imbued with powerful magical enchantments. The sword has played a role in several of the key points in history, including the release of the slaves from the dark mage Karishnak, and the battle of the great plains, which took place over three hundred years ago,” Tallow reeled off, apparently from memory.

“Despite this, no one has ever been able to define exactly what powers the sword holds, for it seems to vary with each wielder – of which there haven’t been many. Now I think you’ll like this; everyone whom the sword has permitted to use it has been someone of mixed blood!”

Contrary to Tallow’s expectations, Feral looked decidedly crestfallen at this news, his ears sinking.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, concerned.

“I’m sorry,” Feral said, turning away. “It’s just... kinda a big job that uncle Felli’s got me on here. Something tells me I’m just not the best person for it. I’m no mage, I’m no warrior, I’m really not built for this kind of thing...”

“That’s not true,” Tallow said gently, putting her hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot, but here you are, still standing. You can still smile, and laugh, and cry. Despite all you’ve been through, you’re still you. Cass was right when she said you’re pretty tough underneath.”

“She said that?” Feral’s ears perked up.

“She did, and I agree with her. You know what you might be facing, but you’re not running away from it.”

“That’s not exactly because I don’t want to...” Feral admitted.

“Doesn’t matter whether you want to, Feral. Point is you aren’t. You’re a brave person, I think you just need to admit it to yourself.”

Turning, Feral looked at her, finding nothing but honesty in her eyes. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Ok, but if I scream like a girl and run, I get to say ‘I told you so.’”

Tallow laughed.

“So how am I supposed to use this thing?” Feral asked, lifting the sword from its sheath and placing it on the desk.

“I’m pretty sure you already found out, from what Cass tells me.”

“But I didn’t do anything! All I did was find it, pick it up, then pick a fight...”

“Where exactly did you find it?” Tallow asked, looking down at the blade. Apparently unconsciously, she wrapped her left hand around her bandaged right.

“I’m sorry about that,” Feral said apologetically, noticing the motion and using the excuse to change the subject.

“Hmm? Oh, don’t worry, I’ll be fine in a few days.”

“If I’d known it was going to do that…”

“You still wouldn’t have known I was going to try to steal it,” Tallow said regretfully. “I think it was just defending itself. It likes mixed race owners, but it’s not documented that it actively tries to hurt anyone else. Actually,” she turned a page in the book and pointed to a paragraph. “It’s been known not to hurt people, on occasion.”

“A sword that won’t fight?” Feral raised an eyebrow.

“Only if it would be wrong to do so, apparently.”

Feral frowned at the sword. “Have you picked it up since?” he asked.

“No! And I don’t want to, either.”

“It won’t hurt you again,” Feral said.

“How do you know?” Tallow eyed him with faint suspicion.

Feral shrugged. “Just do.” Carefully, he lifted the sword by the blade, turning the handle towards Tallow. It wasn’t going to hurt her, he decided, as if instructing the sword.

Hesitantly, Tallow looked at the glittering weapon, the caved golden handle, and the sapphire in the hilt that seemed to reflect slightly more light than it should. She looked at Feral, dubiously, but reached her left hand out slowly. Very gingerly, she tapped the hilt with one fingernail. Then a finger. Then wrapped her hand around it.

Feral smiled as she sighed with relief.

“Well, good to know I don’t have to worry about accidentally brushing past you.” Carefully, she took the weight of the sword, raising the blade slightly, watching the sunlight flow along its sharp edges. “Living history,” she said quietly. “There’s a lot of legends locked up inside this piece of metal.” Carefully, she set the sword down on the desk again before looking up at Feral. “And I’ll be quite surprised if you don’t become one of them.”