As he headed towards the eastern gate of Gavlim, Larkin ran Jillian’s loose directions through his head.

  The instructions had been pretty vague, but he didn’t think that it was Jillian’s fault - at least in this case - as it seemed to match the road layouts in Systemia. He’d noticed the poor state of the roads, and lack of any signage, before now.

  At least I know the name of the place I’m trying to find, he told himself.

  He had to head east of town, find the road going north and follow that until he reached the village of Gomarge. Harper’s Grove was supposedly quite near to there, so the old woman had just told him to ask for further directions there.

  Not the most precise of instructions, he mused as he approached the east gate, but straightforward enough.

  Going through the gates was easy enough; a bored-looking guard in a faded green and blue tabard just waved him through. Though Larkin did have to stop himself from gawking as he went through the walls.

  They’re really wide!

  It took him about eight strides from the inner opening to step back into daylight. Which wasn’t a huge amount, he guessed, and yet he had thought that the walls would have been like he saw in movies.

  Those things aren’t going to just crumble to some trebuchet stone, he thought. If they even have those things here.

  The thought crept insidiously into his head that they did, but Larkin pushed that away as he carried on walking. The stone buildings from the walled part of Gavlim were now replaced by wooden structures.

  But the people all seem the same, he thought, taking in the residents wandering around.

  There didn’t seem to be any mass poverty, at least as far as Larkin could see. It was still odd to him to see the drab clothing that people wore - especially compared to what he was used to back home.

  He soon left the outskirts of the city behind. It wasn’t even midday yet, with the sun high overhead. So Larkin felt confident that he’d finally be finished with his little fetch quest soon.

  - - -

  He was considerably less confident later that evening.

  It wasn’t the cold that bothered him; he didn’t think that anything less than a snowstorm would pose any issue for his Fighter Class enhanced body now. Nor was he particularly worried about being attacked by wild animals, bandits, or even monsters.

  He thought that, even as scatterbrained as she’d appeared, Jillian would have mentioned if there was something truly dangerous lingering in the vicinity. And besides, after the fight with the worst that the Firestingers could throw at him, Larkin didn’t think a prowling Irontooth would be a serious problem.

  No, his problem was simpler than that. Boringly prosaic, in fact.

  I’m lost.

  He’d been happily walking along the road up until the first trails that branched off it appeared. It was then that he’d encountered his first problem, because none of them had been going north.

  One of them had been going north-ish. It had involved going back on his own route though, the trail running parallel with the road until it finally jackknifed north. But then it had only led him to a collection of isolated cottages.

  And Larkin knew all that because he had taken that first path, following Jillian’s damned directions. The only result of which had been some surprised villagers and him wasting his time.

  The next path that he’d come across had actually been going straight north. And Larkin had been delighted to find it - but then after only a short bit of walking it had reached a small village and the path had then split: going west and east but not north.

  Larkin had asked the locals for directions, but one villager had advised he go west, another confidently said east, and the third said that she’d never even heard of either Gomarge or Harper’s Grove.

  So Larkin had gone west on the rationale that at least there was less space to go wrong - as Gavlim was still sometimes visible on the horizon.

  An idea that had proven all too reassuring. The path had turned inexorably to the south and he’d finally reached a lakeside cliff from which he was sure that he could see small figures moving on the walls of the town.

  Another hour was lost traipsing back to the village, which had been full of staring faces as Larkin had started off to the east. Which he was now still on.

  And so far the path hadn’t stopped abruptly, and it was turning somewhat to the north - he thought - but it had also gotten quite dark.

  Completely pitch black, in fact. Only a small sprinkling of stars would occasionally peer down through the clouds overhead. Which, even with his improved sight, meant that Larkin’s pace was reduced to a slow walk.

  He definitely wasn’t going to risk moving faster. At the rate things were going, he’d probably end up wandering off the trail and end up in the middle of the wood. Walking in circles the rest of the night.

  Larkin was so absorbed with ensuring that the ground he was on was actually part of the trail that he almost didn’t notice the people trying to sneak up on him.

  It was his Fighter Class instincts that finally gave him the alarm. Larkin was only barely aware of the soft sound of something squelching on the ground nearby before his body was spinning around, one hand going to sword.

  “Ak…!” The person approaching exclaimed, coming to a staggering halt. “What the hell?”

  Larkin didn’t bother responding to that.

  “Who are you?” He demanded. “What do you want?”

  Even as he spoke, his gaze was assessing the figure, as well as the two behind them. Or him, Larkin should say, as even in the dark he could make out the thick beard.

  Vagrants, perhaps? Who else would be out at night like this?

  Except me, of course.

  He also noticed the sticks that all three were carrying. Even as he knew that they’d be as useful to the three against him as their greater numbers would be. Meaning none whatsoever.

  “What are you throwing questions around for, huh?” The bearded man came out, pushing his chest out aggressively. “‘Course we’d want to know why someone’s skulking around.”

  Larkin frowned, but one of the people behind the bearded man spoke up before he could.

  “Calm down, Garth.” The woman said, her voice cautious. “I told you that sneaking up on him was stupid.”

  “Yeah, pa!” The third person - clearly a girl in her early or mid teens - chipped in. “He was leaving the village anyway. Why do you always have to cause trouble?”

  Larkin stayed silent but raised an eyebrow as the man - Garth, apparently - fully turned his back on him to stare at the two women.

  “Don’t take that tone with me, girl.” He growled. “Not when you’re staying under my roof.”

  The man’s tone changed dramatically when he turned to the woman, becoming decidedly weasley.

  “Besides Sarah, it was you that said I should…”

  But the woman calmly spoke over him.

  “Approach him, I said. Which doesn’t mean to try and stalk up to an armed stranger.”

  With that, the woman turned to Larkin.

  “My idiot husband aside, what are you doing on the road at this time of night?” Her words were certainly polite enough, but there was a clear undercurrent of suspicion in her tone.

  Larkin had plenty of memories of suspicious, curtain-tugging neighbours to call back on, but took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. Strangers would be more of a threat in this medieval-like setting.

  “My name is Larkin, ma’am.” He said as politely as he could in the circumstances. “And I’m looking for a village.”

  A glimmer of hope came to him then. The girl had mentioned a village, after all.

  “It’s called Gomarge.” He added. “Have you heard of it?”

  At the pause his words brought he felt his hope immediately slump.

  “I was hoping that someone from there might know about a place called Harper’s Grove.” He added.

  That drew a startled noise from Garth.

  “But this is…” He got out, before both women shushed him.

  “Quiet you fool!” His wife exclaimed even as his daughter just wailed. “Pa!!”

  That was enough for Larkin to know what Garth had been about to say.

  “Harper’s Grove is here?” He asked, startled, as he looked around. In the dark there really wasn’t anything to see.

  The woman - Sarah - made a resigned noise.

  “What do you want, anyway?” She demanded. “We don’t have much.”

  She said the last almost as a challenge.

  “I think that there’s someone here that I’m trying to deliver a message to.” Larkin told her. “Her name is Lyzkel.”

  There was another pause at that, though this time the three villagers glanced at each other.

  “Perhaps she went past?” Larkin suggested, feeling his stomach flip at the idea that Jillian had sent him on a fool’s errand. “She would be quite distinctive, I think.” He added. “She’s an Avorean.”

  He had only seen one non-human in the time since he’d left Krystan’s manor, so it didn’t seem Girant was particularly cosmopolitan. And he was rewarded by a cautious noise from Garth.

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  “Here, you don’t think that’s the same one that went up to the old Priory, do you?”

  Which got another disgusted noise from his wife.

  “Of course it is.” She snapped. “Notice many Avoreans wandering around here, do you?”

  Satisfied that her husband was suitably cowed, Sarah turned back to Larkin.

  “It’s good that my man stopped you then.” She told him. “You’re going the wrong way.”

  It was as he followed after the three villagers that Larkin realised how he’d managed to miss an entire village. The trail didn’t actually go through it, instead it skirted along the grass mound that hid the cottages from sight.

  And he didn’t believe that was by accident. Not when there seemed to be some trick to ensure that the smoke from the various fires within the buildings were hidden as well. And the presence of an actual gate made that clear. It looked pretty solid - and apparently Garth, Sarah, and their as-yet unnamed daughter had been tasked with keeping watch.

  Along with a pale boy still waiting at the entrance, standing by a lit brazier. Who gave a visible jump when he caught sight of Larkin.

  “You brought him here?” He asked in a squeak.

  Though he got short shrift from Sarah.

  “Of course we did, he’s looking for the Priory.” The woman walked over and clipped the boy on the shoulder - having to reach up to do so.

  “He’s not a bandit, you foolish boy. You know they're an odd sort up there.” She told the kid. “You can show him the way.”

  She turned back to Larkin.

  “The Priory is through the village and up into the hills.” She gestured further into the settlement.

  “And the path goes straight there?” Larkin asked, cautious from his earlier attempts at travelling.

  A snort was his response.

  “I just said that, didn’t I?” She rolled her eyes. “On your way. The Priestess shouldn’t be kept waiting.”

  Not seeing any reason to stick around, Larkin started walking. The boy led him through the quiet cottages, occasionally sneaking looks at Larkin’s sword.

  “It’s that way.” The boy told him at the edge of the village, somewhat unnecessarily pointing towards the stairs that cut upwards.

  And this was quite an impressive set of stairs; nothing like the basic trails that Larkin had been using for so much during his time in Systemia. Each step was made from actual carved stones, which looked in good condition despite being out here in the middle of nowhere.

  There must be some magic in that, he thought.

  He stared back around the village, noting that while it was perfectly pleasant none of the buildings demonstrated the quality of the stone stairs.

  It’s not these people maintaining it, that’s for sure.

  No way would a regular set of stairs stay looking as good as this one. And that was before you factored in the impossibility of getting the stones here in the first place.

  Still, that wasn’t why he was here. So with a nod at the boy, Larkin started walking up the stairs.

  As he climbed he noticed how the trees seemed to avoid the stones; they weren’t even leaning around it. Which, while pretty creepy, had the benefit of maximising what little light from the stars there was.

  The stairs were slightly too low to be particularly comfortable, and Larkin was sure that he’d have been developing cramps if not for his Fighter strengthened body.

  After a bit of time the stairs levelled out into some sort of mezzanine, and he took the opportunity to look around. There was a soft glow of light from below, which told Larkin that he’d climbed at least fifty metres above Harper’s Grove.

  Not much else to see apart from that right now.

  So he turned and kept walking.

  The mezzanine was, it turned out, the halfway mark, and so before too much longer he was at the end of the stairs. Which were blocked by a wide gate.

  Impressive as heck, too.

  It looked like it was made out of the same type of stone as the path itself. They were two metres tall and, again like the path, showed no sign of disrepair even though Larkin doubted that the place had much maintenance.

  But it was the carvings on the gate that most impressed him. Even in the dim light it was clear that there was a colourful set of stones setting out some sort of shapes.

  The upper half of both doors seemed to make some sort of golden circle; a razor thin line dividing the shape in half. There were a few giant figures surrounding it, but it was the carvings at the bottom half of the doors that drew his eye.

  People, I think. He leaned a bit closer in. A real menagerie.

  There seemed to be depictions of roughly Human-like shapes, but also ones that seemed very different. They appeared to be looking up at the golden circle, arms raised.

  I bet they look cool. He thought. And I do have a lightstone.

  But even as he was reaching into his largely untouched pouch that he’d got from Cezar, the heavy doors began to swing open. They moved soundlessly, and Larkin took a step back to avoid being hit with them.

  And then stared at the frail figure standing in the entranceway.

  “A late traveller.” The old man lisped. “Or should that be - an early one?”

  There was some gentle light coming from behind the figure, casting his outline in a gentle relief. Though that only demonstrated that whatever magic kept the path and gate so well maintained clearly didn’t extend to the residents of this place. The frail-looking man was dressed in a rough looking robe that looked like it had seen better days.

  “Hello.” Larkin replied, choosing to ignore heavy whistling sounds coming from the geezer’s half-opened mouth as he took in deep breaths.

  “I have a message for Priestess Lyzkel.”

  The old man didn’t react for several moments, though Larkin thought that might just be him catching his breath. But then his squint fixed on Larkin’s face, before roving down his outfit, and his craggy face grew a few more frownlines.

  “You’re… a Classbearer.”

  It wasn’t a question, but Larkin nodded anyway.

  The old man stared at him for a moment longer, with an expression that Larkin couldn’t place. It certainly wasn’t wariness though, which at least he would have understood.

  But then the codger gave a soft grunt and he turned away. Larkin hesitated a moment and then followed after him. He paused as the gates swung smoothly closed behind him.

  Like automatic doors back home. He thought. Just way much more impressive.

  As Larkin caught up with the old man he looked around. And quickly saw that the eerie preservation of the place didn’t end at the walls.

  A large open space ran from the gate to the base of the hill which opened into an impressively large square. Though, given the lack of activity it had more of a ghostly, depressing air to it.

  There were a number of pillars embedded into the ground, only about four feet tall but with large orbs of light casting their rays around them. It gave the area an ethereal beauty to it. One side of the square was darker than the rest, but the faint light allowed Larkin to see that they seemed to be fields of some sort.

  Or maybe gardens would be more correct, he thought, judging by their size.

  Off to the other side of the square was a small cluster of buildings, all similarly made of some long-lasting materials. They were shaped into gentle arcs and spindly columns that gave the structures a fragile appearance that was clearly not the case.

  There were a half dozen people standing outside those buildings, looking in his direction. They were as drably dressed as the old man who opened the gate, though a couple of them stood out simply because they weren’t Human.

  That’s a Goblin, Larkin thought as he stared at one short figure in a simple-looking dress. And that’s a… Seraph.

  He didn’t need that insidious knowledge from his Skill to tell him that the Seraph was clearly an old member of that species; ancient, even. His long hair was white, and he had a slightly bent-backed pose, accentuated by his tall and slender build.

  Those wings certainly add something, though. Larkin thought.

  They were tall and slender, covered in a white feathers, sticking out from the Seraph’s back and looking both magnificent and, somehow, fragile.

  Tearing his gaze from that sight, Larkin saw that the remarkable resilience of the buildings by the square were underscored by the fortification at the top of the hill. Or rather, what had been a fortification.

  Some sort of castle, maybe?

  It was hard to tell, as all the building above the first two metres had been sliced away. The cut looked so clean that Larkin wouldn’t have known there had been anything there if the damage had been level.

  But instead it had been angled slightly, exposing the support beams at the back of the building where higher floors had once been.

  What could have done that? Larkin wondered, and then. Or who?

  He noticed that the old man was wandering away from him, heading over to the other people around the building.

  “Uh, wait.” Larkin called, hurrying after him. “Where’s Lyzkel?”

  The man came to a stop with a deep sigh, casting his gaze over to him.

  “The Avorean is where she’s been for the last two months.” He said, sounding irritated as he gestured vaguely up the hill. “That is, if she hasn’t left without telling us.” The old man groused. “It wouldn’t be the first time. She refuses to tell us anything.”

  Larkin found himself tuning out the complaints as he stared up again at the ruined building.

  Why would she be up there? He wondered.

  He could, he knew, ask the old man. But quickly decided that he’d rather just find out himself than having to hear more of the complaints.

  “Right, thanks.” He said, leaving the old guy with a nod as he started going up the slope.

  He heard a wordless muttering from behind him, but ignored it as he headed towards the building.

  The surviving walls of the fortification seemed to have the same unchanging nature as the walls of the place and all those other buildings. And there weren’t any windows or openings, save for the single door that led inside.

  That was, fortunately, open so Larkin didn’t have to worry about knocking or anything. And the space beyond was completely empty of any furnishings. Including any of those light pillars, so Larkin was reliant on the sparse visibility from the stars above.

  The floor was made of some smooth stone tiling. There was the remnant of an impressive staircase leading upwards, but that cut off midstep, and Larkin could see that it didn’t go anywhere.

  He found himself at a bit of a loss as he wandered aimlessly around, until he heard a soft humming sound. And, moving around the back of the staircase, he saw another set of stairs.

  These were heading down. And there was some pale golden light emanating from it. The humming sound was definitely coming from that direction too. So Larkin carefully made his way down.

  The room that the stairs eventually opened out into wasn’t large, nor did it appear to be filled with anything noteworthy.

  If you excluded the figure floating in the air.

  “Hah…” Larkin came out with, as he stared at who he assumed was Lyzkel.

  The floating figure was certainly Avorean. And they were floating three feet in the air, spindly legs tucked beneath them and feathered head buried deep into its chest.

  The cross-legged Avorean was surrounded in a nimbus of golden light. Not bright enough to dazzle his eyes, but certainly striking. Especially as that was the only light in the chamber.

  Larkin took a couple of steps into the room, wondering how to get the Avorean’s attention. Though that proved unnecessary.

  A few things happened in quick succession.

  He felt a strange tugging at the back of his mind, like a memory of the pain he felt back in the space between the portals. Then the light around the Avorean suddenly vanished and the bird crashed to the ground.

  Larkin heard an indignant squawk as he blinked in the sudden darkness.

  “By the Fathers!” It was, his Skill told him, a female voice.

  He heard a scrambling noise and then, thankfully, light returned. The Avorean, now on their feet, was staring up at him. And a gentle light was now coming from a golden orb glowing from their left hand.

  “Who are you, young man?” She demanded of Larkin, beady eyes narrowed. “And what did you just do?”

  Larkin hesitated, as he took in the Avorean. That last question she’d asked was something that he’d also like to know - though he had an idea.

  Still, that felt weird. He thought as he rubbed the back of his head.

  “Uh, are you Lyzkel?” He asked. “Priestess Lyzkel, I mean?”

  The Avorean nodded, her face clearly sceptical.

  But not worried, Larkin realised. Not at all concerned about me disturbing her.

  “I’ve got a message for you.” He said, only for the woman to interrupt him.

  “You didn’t answer my question, young man.” She noted, running a slender hand through her feathers. “What Class are you, I wonder?”

  Larkin hesitated.

  “Uh, I’m a Fighter…”

  But his words cut off as a pale light suddenly seemed to start coming from the Avorean’s small eyes. Which then seemed to suddenly widen, even as her beak hung open for a long moment.

  Before she gave an utterly delighted laugh.

  “Two Classes!” She exclaimed. “And one of them I’ve never heard of before.”

  As Larkin blinked, the Avorean’s mirth turned rueful.

  “I ask for guidance, and Lady Fortune delivers.” She murmured, before turning narrowed eyes up to him.

  “It seems we have a lot to talk about.”