Paragon of Destruction

In the few moments before they were spotted by the group of people approaching them, Arran waited calmly. Although he was prepared for battle, he didn’t feel the nervousness that would have filled him in the past — between his Tempering and his experience, his nerves had strengthened a great deal.

Moreover, the size of the group brought him some comfort.

Powerful mages would not bring such numbers just to hunt a novice and a recruit, and if they were hunting for Snowcloud, they would not want to bring along a group of weaker mages. That meant that even if these people were enemies, they likely wouldn’t be particularly strong.

The first people among the group quickly came into view, and when he saw them, Arran found his expectations confirmed. The men and women approaching them were young, and they were wearing the dark robes of Shadowflame novices and recruits.

Arran relaxed at the sight. Although they might still be enemies — there were traitors in the Shadowflame Society, after all — he was confident that if needed, he could slaughter them all with ease.

He glanced over at Snowcloud. "Anyone you know?"

"I can’t tell yet," she replied. Her anxious expression had eased the moment she saw the Shadowflame novices, and now, the look in her eyes had changed to one of interest rather than worry.

At that moment, a black-robed young woman noticed them, and she called out to her companions, "Over there! People!"

The others quickly came over, and as they did, Arran and Snowcloud waited silently, unconcerned now that they knew there was no immediate threat.

As the group came closer, Arran recognized two of the people among them — Zehava and the black-haired man who had defeated him in the tournament in Hillfort. It appeared the man had chosen to join the Iron Mountain novices.

When the group reached them, a fresh-faced young man with long dark hair stepped forward. "Lady Snowcloud! We found you!"

"So you have," Snowcloud replied in a cold tone. "But I can’t help but wonder why you were looking for me."

"You’re in danger," the novice replied, his voice deferential. "The Iron Mountain has learned that there are people looking to harm you, and we were sent to help protect you."

"There are people who want to harm me? Who are they?"

The young novice’s expression grew uncomfortable. "I don’t know. Nobody knows for certain who they—"

"The Waning Moon faction," Zehava interrupted the novice. As she stepped forward, she pushed the young man aside. "Few people dare say it out loud, but it seems the Waning Moon faction harbors traitors. And for some reason, those traitors are after you."

Snowcloud frowned. "How do you know about this?"

"Elder Rahan discovered it some months ago," Zehava said. "When he found out about it, he sent several dozens of parties out to search for you, to bring you back to safety. We’re one of those parties."

"If Elder Rahan knows there are traitors among the Waning Moon members, why hasn’t he taken action against them?" Snowcloud frowned as she asked the question, although there was a trace of shock in her eyes.

Zehava snorted. "You know the answer as well as I do. If an Iron Mountain Elder acts against one of the other factions, it will lead to war within the Valley. Or do you think the Waning Moon would just accept Elder Rahan’s word about traitors among their ranks?"

Snowcloud didn’t reply immediately, but her expression was thoughtful. "If the Waning Moon faction is after me," she said finally, "what help can a few novices and recruits offer?"

"More than what you have now." Zehava cast a dismissive glance at Arran. "But it’s not just us. There are several adepts a few days’ travel from here, and Elder Rahan even sent a few Masters to this region. That should tell you how serious the matter is."

"He sent Masters? More than one?" From Snowcloud’s tone, it was clear that this was something she hadn’t expected, and Arran surmised that sending out Masters was something that wouldn’t be done lightly.

Zehava nodded. "Had it not been for the situation at the border, I think he would have come himself."

"What situation?"

"The conflict between the Waning Moon and the Soaring Sun has grown worse," Zehava said. "But I’ll tell you about that once we’re on our way." Looking around uncomfortably, she added, "No offense, but with you here, I don’t feel safe with just us novices — we should seek out the adepts as soon as we can."

Snowcloud hesitated in responding, but only for a moment. "All right. We’ll join you."

Arran did not object. If the Iron Mountain novices had bad intentions, they would have attacked immediately. After all, without them knowing about Arran’s strength, a single novice and a recruit would hardly seem like a match for half a dozen novices and over thirty recruits.

They wasted no time in leaving, and as they walked, Zehava explained to Snowcloud that the Soaring Sun and the Waning Moon had both massed their forces near the Empire’s border. The Iron Mountain had responded by doing the same, blocking the way into the Sixth Valley for the other two armies in hopes of stopping the conflict from spilling over into the valley.

So far, Zehava explained, the tension hadn’t boiled over yet — other than a few skirmishes between groups of novices and recruits, there had been no open battle. But the situation was like a heap of tinder, she said, and even the smallest spark could set the whole thing alight.

Arran listened with some interest. Although he still knew little about the conflict, it was obvious that the Sixth Valley was on the verge of civil war. And if such a war erupted, he doubted he would be able to stay out of it entirely.

As they traveled, he soon discovered that their companions had little interest in him, clearly seeing him as just another recruit.

The novices’ attention was squarely focused on Snowcloud, whom they treated with a hint of reverence — likely owing to her status as the Patriarch’s granddaughter. The only one among them who did not seem awed by her was Zehava, but even she treated Snowcloud like a superior.

Some of the recruits made small talk with Arran as they walked, but when he told them that his time across the border had been spent helping Snowcloud gather herbs, what little interest they had in him quickly faded.

Arran did not mind this. Even if he had no reason to expect danger from the group, he remained prepared for unwelcome surprises, and the lack of interest allowed him to observe the others quietly.

Still, no matter how hard he looked, he could not find anything suspicious.

While the group was clearly wary of hidden dangers along the road, they did not appear to be concerned about Snowcloud and Arran at all. Had the two of them wanted to sneak off during the night, doing so would have been easy.

But then, if Zehava’s story was true, they had no reason to flee. If anything, the Iron Mountain’s help offered their best chance of making it back to the Sixth Valley safely — especially now that they had learned the Waning Moon was after them.

Two days passed quickly, and finally, Zehava said, "The camp is just a little farther ahead. And once we reach the adepts, we should be safe."

A relieved smile appeared on her face, and in the distance, Arran could see clearing on the side of the road.