________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

A pack llama and its master marched along the Governor's Road. Titus kept the beast's lead in hand. He wore a flowing black tunic cinched around the waist by a broad leather belt. Heavy leather boots, characteristic of his people, sent little puffs of dirt into the air with every step. A black throne was stitched onto the shoulder of the loose red cloak he wore. The llama, its strong back laden with gear and provisions, looked as proud and arrogant as an animal could be.

 

It had been 3 days since Titus had found his home burned and his family murdered. In ordinary times, he found pleasure in the little things. The warm afternoon sun might have brought a smile to his lips. The solid stone beneath his feet might have given him a measure of satisfaction. The company of Pulkra, his long-time companion and pack llama, might have made him feel at home, even in the midst of an otherwise solitary trek. Instead, a grim look was glued to his face, and his chest felt empty. Nightmares plagued him at night, and in the day, he wondered if he would ever feel again.

 

They had passed out of the foothills a day before. Growing up, Titus had always had mountains and hills around him. Even when he left home for his first hunts, initially with more experienced hunters, and later alone, he had been going deeper into the mountains or else hugging their edge. The world seemed strangely flat to him, as though a giant had come along and stomped out all the lumps that he knew should be there. The world just felt wrong when it was so flat.

 

As the duo walked along, stalks of half-grown wheat sprouted up from the ground, kept in carefully fenced enclosures. The road became well-trodden, and lines of smoke curved above the horizon. In spite of the obvious care taken to care for the crop, Titus could not see a single person on or near the field.

 

The boy paused, rubbing the soft wool on Pulkra's powerful shoulder. The llama stood head and shoulders above him, far larger and stronger than her ancestors had been when the Custos had first discovered them centuries past. That had been at the tail end of the Second Black Age. You know well, my good librarian, the terrors that plagued us, then. The llamas of that Age were docile and small, but well-suited to the mountains at the World-Spine. The pads of their feet, as well as their remarkable agility, allowed them to traverse the rocky foothills and treacherous mountain paths as surely as a goat. It is a wonder, though, that they were able to survive the great predators that dominate those mountains - perhaps the Architect had granted them special favour. Regardless, the Custos, as they do with all their friends, took these llamas and made them mighty. I digress.

 

Titus and his old friend approached the village as good travelers are wont to do. Daylight shone down upon them, revealing them to any onlookers. The young Guardian kept his cloak about him, but did not try to hide his face. He walked tall. A thin palisade walled in the village. Walking along the top of the palisade were far more militia than Titus might have guessed for a village such as this. During normal times, the spears stayed locked up at home - what had changed?

 

There was a shrine at the heart of this village, as there is in most Tolmen villages. This one was of the Darian variety, as the Darians had managed to subsume this people's gods into their own pantheon. The speed with which the Darian faith has spread will never cease to amaze me.

 

Titus, knowing well the laws of guest-right in this land, walked to the shrine at the village's heart. He saw but few villagers along the way, and those few looked scared and suspicious. The militia paid him little mind, instead fearfully scanning the horizon. It seemed that most of them were concentrated on the far end of the palisade for some reason.

 

The shrine itself was a simple affair - a great stone monolith bore the Architect's prayer, and was flanked by two lesser monoliths bearing the likenesses of the Darian Weavers Tam and Calestros. You are well-acquainted with the Darian religion, I am sure. Surrounding the monoliths were several boulders scarred with black soot from rituals long past. Evergreen grass had sprung up about the altar, bright flowers scattered here and there. Titus had a keen eye, and was ever watchful. He spied nothing amiss about this shrine as his sure feet brought him closer to it.

 

The youth knelt before Calestros, and murmured a prayer of thanks, as travelers are expected to do. In his heart, Titus wondered if Calestros had abandoned his people. How else could their Keep have been sacked? How else could his mother and father be dead?

 

The Custos, he had been taught, were beloved of the Weavers of Flame. Scypio had regaled him with tales of the Custos and Weavers fighting side-by-side against the monsters of the night. Calestros himself had visited their Keep not twenty years ago. It had been named in his honor when he had led the Keep's Guardians on the greatest hunt for a hundred years. So why hadn't Calestros saved them? Had their patron Weaver abandoned them?

 

Much to Titus's astonishment, a single tear leaked from his eye. He felt nothing. Not sorrow. Not regret. Not guilt. Not even anger. Yet, tears sprang from his eyes! Curious. Almost as an afterthought, the lone Custos Guardian prayed for vengeance.

 

Standing up, Titus looked around him. The shrine seemed much as it had been when he first entered the village, but something felt off. Something had changed, though he knew not what. He was being watched.

 

Eyes narrowing, Titus looked about him suspiciously. He settled into a neutral stance, knees bending slightly, ready to leap into action.

 

“Ho there, stranger.” A young woman no older than Titus stepped out from behind the central monolith. Titus relaxed, a moment of chagrin colouring his mind.

 

Her approach had been all but silent, though the string skirt about her waist made a slight swish with each step she took. Titus's grey eyes looked her up and down, searching for weapons, lingering for perhaps a moment too long on the curves of her body.

 

Satisfied that she wasn't a threat, Titus nodded back at her, blushing slightly,“ blessings of the Architect upon you.”

 

“And you.” the woman smirked at him, amused by something. He couldn't imagine what. Her eyes lingered on his lips,” what could a traveler like you be doing here? We aren't exactly near the Royal Road.”

 

“Passing through.”

 

“Going somewhere?”

 

“No, I thought I'd just wander in really big circles.”

 

She took a few steps forward, leaning her head against the huge monolith at the center of the shrine. ”They must be mighty big circles.”

 

“The biggest.”

 

“You don't look like a trader.”

 

“I'm not.”

 

“A treasure hunter? Not much treasure out this way.”

 

“Nope.”

 

The girl squinted at him, her face alight with curiosity,” I'm Lorna.”

 

“I am Titus Miloka Julianus.”

 

Her eyes widened slightly. Her voice turned respectful,” You've come to kill the monster?”

 

“What monster?”

 

“What? Cyrus told us he would send help! Cyrus never lies!” The words came in a rush and tumble, each competing to be the first out of her lips.

 

“I have never met Cyrus. Tell me what you are talking about.”

 

“The demon spider! How haven't you heard of it? We sent runners weeks ago! I'm sure half the Westlands have heard by now!”

 

“Demon spider?” Titus became entirely focused on the girl, suddenly as interested in her as she was with him,” you mean Var'shun?”

 

His question rekindled the hope in her eyes,” so you can help us?”

 

“Just tell me what it is.”

 

“It started a couple weeks ago. People would go into the forest and just disappear. Huge spiderwebs cropped up at the edge of the treeline. We stopped going out alone, but then people would disappear in twos and threes. We've had to stop foraging for truffles, we can't fish, we can't chop wood” - she gestured with her hands -” and it's sugaring season! We can't collect sap from the trees, we can't - ”

 

"Describe the creature.”

 

“It's massive! Easily as big as the Druid's hall! I don't know how it can even fit between the trees! It has fangs as big as swords, with long legs sharp enough to skewer a wild boar. A loremaster came to visit our Druid yesterday, and he says that it must be one of the Var'shun demons.” Lorna shrugged,” he's supposed to stick around for a few days doing research or something.”

 

“Hmmm...”

 

“Well?”

 

“Take me to this loremaster.”

 

The Druid's hall, as she called it, was little more than a particularly large round house. Stone walls cemented with clay lifted a large mud roof overhead. A thin trail of smoke snaked its way out of a hole in the roof. As they walked towards the house, the young woman chattered about this and that, her warm, feminine voice captivating to Titus's youthful ears. All the years I've known the boy, he's had a weakness for soft things, even if he won't admit it to save his life - the same at thirty as he was at twenty!

 

The girl introduced herself as Lorna, a farmer's daughter and devotee of Calestros. A blush coloured her cheeks whenever she looked at Titus, so she looked at everything except him. He would only respond with a word or two to any of her questions, which only seemed to drive her to ask more of them.

 

When they entered the Druid's hall, they found a large, smoky room dominated by a small fire at its center. Warm air tickled his skin. Stools, bedrolls, a couple of chests, and other such facts of life were scattered about the place. The scent of fire, old meals, and human life suffused the air. Much to Titus's surprise, the floor was dirt.

 

Lying on the opposite end of the round house was an occupied bedroll lined with some animal's fur. A shock of snow-white hair peaked out from one end of the bedroll. Titus cocked an eyebrow at Lorna.

 

She shrugged at him,” you'll have to forgive him, he's a bit of an odd duck. The loremaster insists that a dragon is hunting him, and thus will only go about at night. As such, he must sleep during the day.”

 

“Very well,” Titus marched over to the bedroll, his heavy boots about as stealthy as a raging pteranodon. With little ado, he dragged a sturdy stool over to the bedroll and plopped unceremoniously onto it, a scratchy rumble assaulting their ears as it slid across the dirt floor.

 

Titus's steel-grey eyes settled on Lorna,” well, you going to wake him up, or not?”

 

“No need,” a melodious voice floated into the boy's ears,” a half-deaf eelhound would have heard the racket you just made.”

 

“What's an eelhound?” Lorna chirped.

 

“Ah, yes, I forgot where I was. Don't worry about it, I'm fairly certain they've gone extinct.”

 

“But what's an eelhound?”

 

“Are you deaf, girl? I just said they've gone extinct”- the fair-haired man sat up, revealing a still-youthful physique, and rubbed his face with slender fingers -” they were dogs bred to hunt eels by the Lokteks. They went out of fashion several centuries ago when the bastards developed a liking for dog meat instead”- a pair of exasperated violet eyes settled on Lorna's face-” happy now?”

 

“That's terrible! Who would eat a sweet, little puppy?”

 

“Apparently the Lokteks would.”

 

“Well, they sound awful.”

 

“Indeed. And who, pray tell, is our noisy friend here?”

 

“This is Titus Miloka Julianus!” Lorna appeared vaguely proud of herself for remembering his whole name.

 

The boy and the smooth-skinned loremaster gazed at eachother for a moment, each appraising the other. The loremaster looked thin, almost emaciated, but bundles of hard muscle lurked beneath his pale skin - his gaunt frame stood in stark contrast to Titus's broad, well-muscled shoulders and athletic figure. High cheekbones framed the loremaster's narrow, almost pointed face. Piercing eyes drew Titus's gaze, almost against his will, and seemed to peer into his soul.

 

The loremaster glided to his feet,” well met, Titus. You may call me Lavonius.”

 

The boy was held spellbound for an instant, gazing into those brilliantly purple eyes,” Well met.”

 

The loremaster's voice turned strangely somber for a moment,” well met, indeed. I cannot fathom the depth of your loss.”

 

Titus recoiled as if slapped,” how could you possibly -”

 

“Word travels fast. A Custos Keep is not easily broken, and its absence is keenly felt. Most at least have the luxury of old age before we must reckon with the deaths of our parents. You will smile again, my boy. I can promise you that.”

 

The warrior's eyes narrowed,” Not a single trader has come this way from the South.”

 

Lavonius smiled sadly, placing a hand on Titus's shoulder,” a little birdy told me. What does it matter?

 

Any suspicion that might have lurked in the boy's heart dissipated like so much smoke. How could he doubt the sincerity in those eyes? He was ashamed.

 

“Regardless...” Titus murmured in confusion,” The demon spider.” The merest quaver shook his voice,” Lorna says you know of it.”

 

“Ah, yes, of course. The demon spider. Such a melodramatic name” - Lavonius rolled his eyes -” but your people have ever had a flare for the dramatic. The spiders were once a fairly common Var'shun infestation. They've since become rather rare within the Great King's territory.”

 

“Oooh, have you ever seen one before?” Lorna chimed in.

 

“Why, yes, quite a long time ago. Bit of a tight spot, but I have a knack for getting out of those, if I may say so -”

 

“Focus, Loremaster,” the boy's voice had turned hard once more. How long ago could it really have been? Lavonius didn't look older than twenty-five.

 

“Right, the spider. They're one of the more nasty Var'shun beasties, but also one of the easier ones to hunt. I'm sure you're familiar with the Var'shun Lion, which requires a master huntsman to really pin down”- Titus's chest swelled ever so slightly at the mention of his first kill -” well, the spider is nothing like that. It's nest is large and obvious, but, unlike the lion, which lone hunters have been known to slay, it generally requires a hundred men or one very wily sorcerer to put a spider down.”

 

“If they're so damn dangerous, then why haven't I heard of them?”

 

“Like I said, they've been gone from this corner of the Continent for a hundred and forty-two years. They're a holdover from the Dark Days, they don't really leak out out of the Black Lands the same way that, say, a Var'shun Lion might.”

 

“What makes them dangerous?”

 

“The most obvious part is their absurdly over-sized fangs and razor-sharp forelegs, which can cut through a bronze cuirass with ease.”

 

Titus grunted smugly,” I don't wear bronze into battle.”

 

“Yes, yes, I'm well aware of your fabled steel armor. But it won't save you if you get stuck in the spider's silk. It's all but invisible, and can pin you in place long enough for the monster to separate your head from your shoulders.” It would never cease to amaze Lavonius how the young always think they know better than their elders.

 

Lorna pulled at Titus's cloak, as though looking for a suit of armor beneath,” I almost forgot about that! All the stories the druid told me about the Custos, and I almost forgot the coolest part! Did the Architect really teach Vulkan how to make it? All that metal must be so heavy!”

 

“Quiet, girl!”- Lavonius's imperious voice brough a flush of embarrassment to her face -” we'll have time for your questions later.”

 

A modest blush coloured Titus's cheeks. He wasn't used to getting attention - this was only the second time he'd left home. His voice would have died in a stutter had he spoken, but thankfully Lavonius kept talking.

 

“Lastly, a thimble of the creature's venom is enough to paralyze a grizzly bear. Any scratch on your body will leave an opening for the venom, even a simple abrasion. It can inject the venom into you from a needle in its mouth, but I have also heard tell of the spiders spitting like some sort of venomous llama.”

 

“Except llamas only spit when you give them a reason to.”

 

Lavonius grinned,” so they do. On to the matter of my payment.”

 

“Payment?”

 

“Only a small fee, I assure you. Information is rarely free.”

 

Titus crossed his arms.

 

The loremaster waved his hand dismissively,” oh, don't worry, my boy - as I said, a small fee!” He smiled blandly,” let me travel with you as far as Tolmepolis.”

 

Titus leaned forward in his stool,“ how in seven hells do you know -”

 

“Spare me, boy! It doesn't take a genius to surmise what route you'll take. You're going to one of the Northern Keeps to spread the news of your Keep's destruction. Doubtless, there are others going to warn the Southern Keeps,” Lavonius's voice dripped with condescension,” The Royal Road goes through Tolmepolis, and what other road is there for you to take?”

 

Titus squinted at him, struggling to justify his suspicion,” and why should I bring you with me?”

 

“I'm going that way anyway. You'll hardly notice I'm there. And I'm an excellent cook besides, you'll be happy you brought me along.” Lavonius flashed his most winning smile.

 

“Fine! I kill the creature, and on to Tolmepolis. Then we go our separate ways.”

 

There was never any doubt. Lavonius's smile widened. He looked toward the entrance.

 

The door crashed open, and in walked a tall woman clearly accustomed to giving orders. “Another visitor!” Her voice was strained but cheerful,” and who might this one be?”

 

Titus appraised the woman. Her face was blunt and strong. Her eyes dark and unyielding, but not unfriendly. She wore a short tunic, much like Lorna's, and a pair of sturdy trousers. At her hip hung a sheathed sword, characteristic of the Tolmen, as long as a man's arm. Titus had little doubt that she knew how to use it.

 

Lorna all but shouted,” He's a Guardian!”

 

The druid's exhausted face rose at Lorna's outburst, hope glimmering behind her eyes. “Guardian? So you can help us?!”

 

“Not one for mincing words, this one,” Lavonius remarked.

 

“Yes, my Lady. This village belongs to you?”

 

“I'm its Druid. I've done what I can to protect my people, but there's just nothing I can do - and our prayers have done little.”

 

“Lorna and I have appraised the good man of your situation.”

 

“So they have,” Titus said,” They say the creature haunts the forest. They say none who enter ever return. Have any of your men fought the beast and lived?”

 

“The spider doesn't fight. It leaves its webs to catch the unwary, and it ambushes the wary anyway”- the druid clenched her fists -”If the creature stays for much longer, this village is going to die. We need that forest. We've been able to make do with firewood taken from the absolute edge of the forest, but it's only a matter of time before it starts hitting us there, too.”

 

“Now, now,” Lavonius objected, almost offended at the suggestion,” as I've told you many times already, there's never been an account of a Var'shun spider -”

 

“I don't care! You're not the one that has to protect this village. I am! And I'm completely helpless!” The woman's voice cracked slightly,” bandits and wolves, I can handle, but this? What good are spears against it? Am I supposed to pray the monster away? What good are prayers against a nightmare?”

 

Lavonius moved forward, placing a hand on the druid's shoulder,” your prayers have been answered, Rikua!” His voice was low and soothing, warm with sympathy,” this fellow here is the answer.”

 

“Yes,” she took a deep breath,” you're right. I need'nt worry.” She looked Titus up and down with a critical eye,” I've heard the stories. I've even met one or two of your kind, and you certainly share the look. Like panthers waiting to strike, every one of you. You don't look older than twenty-two, but somehow I think you've seen more death than I ever will.”

 

“Your confidence is well-placed, my Lady. If the Loremaster speaks true, I shan't have difficulty in slaying the Spider.”

 

“I pray you're right. Almost fifty of us have died in the last two weeks. Can you imagine losing so many friends? So many family?” She choked on her own voice. With a shuddering breath, she continued “We sent runners to the Governor, but he can't send help for another month. We were on the verge of packing up and leaving.”

 

“You have my word, Druid Rikua. I will rid the forest of this spider. On my life, I will slay it.”

 

“By the Architect, I hope you do.”

 

________________________________________________________________________________________________