Mister Lloyd, a personal friend, father to Meredith, and a gentleman cut from a rare cloth. His deeds not only crossed borders, but built bridges between cultures. The moon and sun bore witness to his splendour, Bryl, the Bountiful, will have prepared a feast for him in the afterlife, and the spirits of old will watch over his grave.

  – Lord Nathaniel Clarke, Royal Advisor

  Their horses trotted through the snow. They'd passed Langdale a day ago. If Finn had taken an airship as they suspected, he would've taken one in Langdale. But the city was large and overcrowded. There was no way Trista and Poppy would find the man in it.

  Despite the snowy condition, the road was bustling with activity. This corner was the biggest hub of commerce in Freyland and it showed. Carts and carriage flew down even this smaller road and plenty of airships passed overhead—any of which could have had Finn aboard.

  "Oh stop it," Poppy teased, matching pace with Trista to smirk at her. "We're doing the best we can, right?"

  Trista glanced at her in annoyance. She was supposed to stay in formation in case they were ambushed. Instead of reprimanding her for the fourth time, Trista took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What do you mean?"

  "You've been glaring at every single airship." The kitsune's tone took on the quality of a lecturer. Her finger went up, as if she were talking to a child. "We're doing what we can, so we shouldn't be worrying about the things we cannot change."

  "You're taking this awfully lightly. He was *your* friend." Trista's brow furrowed. Something in the way Poppy was talking about this didn't sit right with her. She'd been devastated, when she found out that Finn betrayed her, but now she was acting like they were on a field trip. Well, Poppy was always an enigma, and maybe Trista was projecting her own discomfort with the situation onto her.

  The backpack seemed to pull her down heavier than before and she adjusted the strap to efficiently postpone its date with the road beneath. Her eyes tracked Poppy's movements—the lightness in the way she shifted, the genuine cheer behind her typical teasing. No, this wasn't a performance.

  "I'm taking this one step at a time. Call it 'conserving my energy'." Poppy laughed and retreated again to talk to Titus instead.

  "Conserving your energy, huh?" Trista murmured under her breath. "What a unique way to look at things…"

  It only took them an hour to reach Wamerfield. Trista was still wary of big cities, considering her run-in with the thugs in Perterwick and she told her crew to push on.

  "We'll camp by the river." She pointed at the map. "There's a small tributary to the Alridbury here. I'd planned to camp there when I left Reikha. I've been there before. It's mostly frozen marshlands. We should be able to set up camp half an hour from the main road, and catch fish in the river."

  "I'll catch fish," Titus exclaimed, barely hiding his excitement. When given the chance, he'd made himself useful, supplying the group with food. Unlike Poppy he seemed eager to help and do what it took to survive in the wilderness.

  In the evening, they were finally setting up camp in the woods near the small stream. They were far from any town. At least there were none on the map Trista had. She knew, Freyland's woods were filled with small settlements and new ones popped up every now and then. Her old map was probably outdated.

  With a sigh, she stretched, cracking her neck and watching Titus wade in the water. It was freezing, but apparently he was better at catching fish using his mutated arm, rather than a rod. It was his choice, but seeing the boy staring down into the water reminded Trista of the many times Vaera jumped into the river as a kid.

  She chuckled and shook her head, clearing her thoughts. Was she getting sentimental? Maybe it was time for her to kick back in a tavern and share stories with friends again. When was the last time she'd done that? Glancing at Poppy's bag on the ground, Trista pulled a face. With company like that, maybe the tavern could wait.

  Trudging over to the shoreline, Trista inspected Titus' catch. He'd already caught more than enough. At this point, he was just showing off.

  "You can get out of there now," Trista yelled to him, waving him over. She shivered at the thought of stepping into the cold water herself. "Let's leave some for the wildlife, hm?"

  But the smile froze on her face, as she spotted something in the distance. It wasn't anything in particular she could recall seeing. Her brain just screamed "Danger" and she immediately took cover behind the large trunk of a nearby tree.

  An arrow whizzed by, missing the spot she'd been standing on by two full meters. An amateur? A warning? Better to not chance it.

  Her training took over, as she yelled an order at Titus. "Get down!"

  She'd only noticed the one shooter, and they had scouted the area before settling in. Unless her skills were deteriorating, a group larger than three shouldn't have made it this close undetected. Poppy was still in the forest. Did the assailants know? Did they have her? No, they would use her as a hostage if they did.

  Trista looked down at the sword in her hand. She hadn't chosen to draw it, but she was glad to find it in her hand. Realistically, she knew a sword would do her no good against an archer in the woods, unless the archer came within range. But what kind of fool would decide to—

  Her thoughts were interrupted, when she heard light footsteps and something heavy being dragged along the ground. What now?

  Making sure Titus was securely hidden in the reeds, staying low as she'd instructed, she dared a glance around the tree. Someone was indeed approaching them, but it wasn't the archer.

  Poppy dropped the body of the archer onto the clearing, as if it had personally offended her. "Gods, I thought you had scouted the place." She wiggled her eyebrows at Trista teasingly. "Not to worry, your old pal, Poppy, got you covered. And before you ask: there were no others."

  Sticking out her tongue, Poppy leaned forward, hands on her hips, as if the situation was another of her daily performances at the circus. "Unless I missed someone that is. Isn't that exciting?"

  Trista sighed, her sword already sheathed again, as he lightly prods the body with her foot. "Did you kill him?" She waved Titus to the tent. Better to get the kid near the horses where he could escape if more enemies showed up.

  "What do you take me for?" Poppy huffed, taking affront. "No, I didn't kill him." She twirled her fingers in a creepily smooth motion and small twinkling lights appeared between them as her magic manifested in the air. "I only knocked him out."

  Titus froze as Poppy showed off her magic, and Trista shot him an apologetic glance. Probably a bad memory. The boy had been tormented by Poppy for long enough.

  She pushed the cloaked assailant over onto his back and jumped back. A metallic sound rattled in her head, and she recognized it as the sound of her sword vibrating against its sheath. Her hand that usually was so sure and calm was shaking as she held the sword. The assailant wasn't human. He wasn't beastfolk, gnome, yillip, or any reasonable creature. This was a skeleton. An undead.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  A step. A glint. And...

  "Stop it! Trista!" Poppy's words barely registered. She couldn't move her arms. Her own ally was holding her back.

  Trista struggled against Poppy's grip. Despite being able to easily overpower her, in her current state the skinny kitsune might have as well been a beastfolk from Trista's point of view. "Why?" Her sword was held aloft, ready to strike and end the abyssal creature in front of her.

  "It's powerless!" Poppy sounded desperate. "If it proves dangerous we can kill it. But right now, let's keep it. Maybe we can learn where its master is! If we're lucky, it may lead us there. Then we can end the threat for good."

  Trista gaped at Poppy, then glanced at her sword and the unconscious undead in turn. "It's master...?" Blood flooded her mouth as she bit her lip hard. It was obvious. Even if you took out their pawns, the master would just summon more undead. If you fought them all, you were already fighting a losing battle. She knew. She was trained to know. Why did she need to be reminded of this. "Yeah..."

  With shaking hands, she dropped her arms and attempted to sheathe her sword. Failing to do so, she just stood there, watching as Poppy tied up the undead. An undead hostage. She almost chuckled. But one glance at the terrified eyes of Titus stopped her. She was supposed to be in control, their leader. She was losing it. If it hadn't been an undead... Anything but an undead...

  Even bound and effectively immobile the sight of the skeleton still sent shivers down Trista's spine. Her fingers tapped impatiently as they waited for it to wake up.

  "How does this even work? Does it even wake up?" Trista tracked the gentle sway of Poppy's tails absent-mindedly, trying to distract herself from the undead in front of them. "I've never heard of undead being unconscious before. They're just mindless puppets, right?"

  "Maybe this one is special?" Poppy smirked at Trista and shifted her position, which just so happened to make her tails almost swish into Trista's face.

  Their captive chose that moment to wake up. Come back alive? Come unalive? What would it be? Before Trista thought it through, the creature spoke. Spoke!

  "W-wait!" The skeleton's voice was unnatural and clearly magical in origin. Its sockets glowed with an eerie blue light and it looked hastily from one to the other. "I'm not a threat!"

  Trista burst into laughter. The situation was just that ridiculous. An undead that spoke? Not a threat? Well, considering its poor aim, perhaps the last part wasn't too far off from the truth.

  "It can speak?" Titus asked in wonder.

  Trista nodded. "I've heard of this. But I've never actually seen it myself. Apparently, some undead retain the souls of their previous lives. They're supposed to be more intelligent and dangerous than the normal kind." Her fingers traced the straps on the hilt of her sword. "I think we should take it out just to be safe. This was a bad idea."

  "No! Please!" Its voice sounded like a sword scraping against a metal shield. The sound threatened to cause another headache.

  "That's even better!" Poppy exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "An intelligent being can be interrogated, so we can find out where it came from, if there are more, and who controls it!" Her fingers were wiggling in the air again and she licked her lips in anticipation.

  Titus pulled a face as her recoiled and stepped back. "Let's just ask him. He said he wasn't a threat." Returning his attention to their captive, Titus placed a hand on his chest in greeting. "I'm Titus. Who are you? Are you really not a threat? Why did you attack us?"

  Trista was frowning at the proceedings, standing halfway through the tent flap already. Why was no one taking the threat seriously? It seemed like just yesterday when people would've ran for the hills at the mere mention of undead. Poppy was understandable, the woman would probably face off against a warg just for fun. But the kid? How was Titus so calm about this?

  "I'm Tonio," the creature said in response. "I live... well I lived in an outlier town nearby. Please, you have to help my sister. I've been scaring off curious wanderers and merchants for a year now... She's not evil I promise, she just needs help."

  Titus' head bobbed once and he even seemed to smile at the thing. "I understand. Can you explain it to us? What happened to your sister?"

  Feeling more comfortable with his captors, the skeleton relaxed a little. "Our neighbours and friends... They thought she was evil, a necromancer. They thought my family was evil for giving shelter to a stranger who turned out to be a necromancer. They... they killed my parents and nearly killed Salmi too."

  "Salmi? Is that your sister?"

  "Yes. She survived but... she hasn't been the same. She still thinks our parents are alive. She keeps them alive... well, not really. Not like me." The blue orbs moved from Titus to Poppy, who had become increasingly disinterested in the story, and eventually landed on Trista. "Please, you have to help her. She needs a family... a place to stay."

  Help? A necromancer? Trista swallowed the laugh that was building in her throat as she recognized Titus' expression. He was going to try to help this Salmi person no matter what she said, wasn't he? The set of his jaw, the look in his eyes, it was all there. Momentarily, she wondered if Titus knew how obvious he was. Then, she sighed. A deep slow exhale.

  "Of course, we'll help," Titus said.

  "What?" Poppy looked like he'd slapped her. She frowned at Trista and held her hands palms up. "We don't have time for this nonsense. She's some kid, even if she's a necromancer, I doubt she'll stop us from continuing. We can just leave her. Besides this isn't our job to begin with, let the Order of Skaal handle it." She narrowed her eyes at Titus. "Trista needs to get to Coldtide. We can't stop and help every person we find."

  As she closed her eyes, Trista ran a hand through her hair, her hat dropping to the floor. She scratched the base of one of her horns as she considered her options.

  "I don't disagree, Poppy..."

  "Don't tell me you're actually considering this!" This wasn't the clown she knew, this was Poppy, betrayed by her friend Finn. Was she feeling betrayed by Trista now? It sounded like it.

  Trista opened her eyes again and crouched down to pick up her hat. "I'm not sabotaging our plan. The horses need rest. I don't. I'll fix this and be back by morning." She nodded to the skeleton. "But you're not going to be around come tomorrow. There's no way, I can leave an undead creature roaming the lands."

  The skeleton's face didn't change. How would it? But it looked almost relieved. "Of course... I just want Salmi to be safe. Don't hurt her."

  "I don't hurt civilians."

  Trista found herself staring at Poppy's tails again, this time bristling and wrapped around her waist. It was as if the entire point of the woman was to draw people's eyes. Rilon, the Creator, must have gifted her with every trait necessary to leave an impression.

  Tonio was a few paces away, covering the grave of his mother and praying. They had dug four graves during the night, one for the family dog, two for the parents, and one for Tonio. Trista had seen men prepare for death before, but Tonio seemed eerily calm to her. Well, most of the people she met hadn't experienced it twice, so who was she to judge him.

  When she noticed an annoying smirk directed at her, she looked up in annoyance.

  "Like what you see?" Poppy teased, running a finger over her lips. "Most people pay for my performance, you know?"

  Trista sighed and shifted her weight. The movement only gained her a few centimetres. "I might be a little jealous. My tail doesn't come with insulation." Her leathery tail slapped the ground as if to underline the point.

  They were standing in the makeshift graveyard. The plan was for Titus to calm down the girl, to ease her into being able to face her brother again. Apparently, Tonio had been trying to convince her to leave the town for a year now. Salmi had been living here alone with nothing but her undead parents and her undead dog this entire time. She was just a child.

  Grimacing, Trista looked away from the house in the distance and Poppy to focus on Tonio instead, telling herself she was keeping watch to make sure he didn't attack anyone.

  "You know, we could be riding north already." Poppy's voice was sweet nectar, but it had a sour taste today. "Is this going to be a problem?"

  Trista knew what she meant. She wasn't asking about Titus, Salmi, or anything like that. She was asking about Trista. And for once, Trista didn't know for sure.

  "I have a duty." She replied, her jaw jutting forward. "You may not like it, but a Plague Knight's job is never over."

  "And do you usually leave the necromancer alive?"

  Trista scowled, her tail finding the same spot to strike as before. She nodded at the house in the distance. "She's coming out now."

  When Poppy turned to look, watching the little girl with unkempt white hair walk out of the house, Trista let out a breath. She glanced at Poppy once, before focusing on Salmi and Titus. She couldn't hear them from over here, but she could figure out what they were talking about.

  Waking up without her parents all of a sudden, meeting a strange half-warg boy... It was like a scene from Vaera's romance novels. Poppy shuffled closer in the snow, when she heard Trista chuckle.

  "What?" The kitsune asked with genuine curiosity, a mischievous gleam in her eye, the urgency of their mission seemingly forgotten.

  "Isn't Titus basically both a dog and an older boy to this girl?" Trista shook her head and shrugged with a smirk on her face. "It's like we have the perfect person to keep her delusions alive."

  Poppy gaped at Trista in astonishment, before she broke out into another wide grin. "Oh! So you do know how to make jokes!"