Baronet Dareth Willisford, Court Magician of Degan, carefully set his pendulum aside, and made notations on his map.

  He sighed and moved to one of the stools; eased himself down, ran his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, and then scratched his chin in thought. He missed being back in the capital; having colleagues to discuss things with was always welcome; but out here, out in the wild frontiers of the New World, he was the only one versed in the mysteries of magic.

  Magic was still a very new study. Those that could use it were rare enough and scarce enough that Dareth could list them by name. Still, it was a field of unlimited potential, and the king had decided that their expedition to the newly-discovered continent should have a mage along. That had been more than twenty years ago.

  After a moment, he got up, tucked away his pendulum, rolled up the map, and glanced outside to check the weather.

  It was raining again. It seemed like it was always raining here. He fetched his cloak, and remembered to secure his map in a waterproof heather case. Once that was done, he stepped out of the grandly-named “Hall of Magic” and slogged through the mud to what had once simply been named ‘Headquarters’.

  Halfway there, the muddy road gave way to less-muddy cobbles, and the road opened up to a respectable street that led to the central keep, where he hoped a fire would be lit to take away the chill that had seeped into his limbs.

  The King had followed the Goddess’ teachings, and had been fruitful. Too fruitful, it seemed, since there were plenty of children, but not enough positions to go around. So his second-eldest son had been sent to oversee the new colony, while the eldest was being groomed to take over the kingdom itself. Dareth had butted heads with him on more than one occasion.

  Dareth pushed open the heavy door to the audience chamber since there were no guards to do it for him, and made straightaway for the hearth placed along the side of the room, indifferently overhearing the petition in progress.

  “Lord, three mayors in the western region have reported that their fields and farms have been attacked.”

  “Three of them, you say...” was the musing reply. “Attacked by who? Savages?”

  “No. All of them have claimed that it was monstrous beasts.”

  “‘Monstrous beasts’, you say. And? What is it they require?”

  “The Royal Guard, of course.” was the reply.

  “Pffft. As if we could spare them.” was the immediate reply. “What we have here is busy keeping the city safe. We don’t have so many guards that we can send them willy-nilly across the territory. Conscript some of the locals, and be done with it.”

  Dareth rubbed his hands in front of the fire and stamped his feet in his boots, urging them to warm up faster.

  “What? Is there something that my magical advisor wishes to add?”

  Dareth blinked. He hadn’t been making that much of a racket, had he? He thought over what had been said. Monstrous beasts in the west. His magical divinations had warned him about the west.

  He moved closer to the throne in the center of the room, regretting leaving the fireplace.

  The Lord of the new colony- what some were calling New Degan- was the king’s second oldest son, Leonard Degan. He was a little stooped with age, a little soft about the middle, but he still had the bearing of a man who was long-familiar with the ways of court.

  “Well, I have a passing curiosity about the nature of the beasts,” Dareth replied, “Since I’ve never laid eyes on a monster before, but that only extends to dissection and study. But to add to what-” He looked at the other person in the room, a man in the rumpled brown robes of a scholar, “-this clerk has said, my magical divinations have revealed that there is something magical west of our explored territories.” He shrugged. “I have the approximate area marked on a map for your perusal at your leisure.”

  Leonard waved his hand dismissively. “I have little care for maps. All those squiggly lines give me a frightful headache.” He complained.

  He appeared to think for a moment. “I think we’ll stick with what I suggested earlier. Muster up some conscripts from the west and have them see to their problem. Would you like to go with them?” He asked Dareth curiously.

  “I think I’d prefer to stay here, and argue with you about the roof of the Hall of Magic again.” Dareth retorted irritably. Leonard rolled his eyes ostentatiously. “Your obsession with studying the stars again?” he sighed and shook his head.

  Dareth bit back a grimace. “Our understanding of magic comes from our understanding of nature. Studying nature- which includes the stars- furthers our advancement of it. As I’ve stated before.”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  “And at length.” Leonard remarked ruefully. “You can complain all you like, but don’t assume I will listen overmuch.”

  “I need a balcony with a clear and uninterrupted view of the night sky.” Dareth stated to Leonard for what was probably the ten thousandth time across the twenty years they’d been in this place.

  “I will go to the west.” A new voice offered.

  Leonard grimaced a little at the low, cool tone.

  “Sister Mercedes.” He greeted respectfully, if a bit testily.

  Dareth glanced over his shoulder at the new speaker.

  There weren’t many trueborn elves in the lands that Degan had claimed for themselves; many of them had intermarried with their human neighbors. The elves of Degan were nothing like the savage elves of this land, they were erudite and well-spoken. Mercedes herself was descended from some elven lineage that was important to them, though she worked in the Temple of the Goddess.

  She stepped closer, and Dareth could hear the low clink of her armor. Mercedes- Sister Mercedes was a paladin of the church.

  “I will go.” She repeated.

  The girl was lovely, with fair skin and eyes a hue of blue Dareth hadn’t seen anywhere else, except for other elves. What he did know of her was scant- that she was well-spoken, she was fair, and that she was just.

  There were sly rumors that she was bewitchingly attractive underneath the armor and robes she wore, though Dareth had little care for such things, since he was nearly twice her age. He scratched his chin. Maybe his son back home in Degan could be persuaded to take her as a wife? He stuffed the idle thought away, and turned back to Lord Leonard.

  “Don’t think that this will give the Church any leverage.” Leonard warned Mercedes.

  “Of course not.” She replied simply. “I go to serve the people in the name of the Goddess.” She replied.

  There was an odd emphasis there; Lord Leonard frowned at whatever subtle byplay had just occurred.

  “Whatever.” He grumbled. Mercedes bowed -slightly- and turned to leave.

  “Dareth here mentioned he had a map. Hopefully, it should prove useful to you.” Leonard offered, shooting a look at the tired mage.

  Dareth sighed. “As you wish, my Lord.”

  In a conference room provided to them by Leonard, Dareth unrolled the map he’d stuffed into the leather scrollcase, and spread it wide.

  Across the top of the parchment, in grand scrollwork was the title: “The New World”.

  The map was dominated by a large swath of land that encompassed part of the shore, labelled “New Degan”. Further to the south, along the same coastline,were several smaller ports, each labelled with simple script; ‘Elf town’, followed by some additional notations- if they were friendly with the colony of New Degan.

  The elves that had built towns on the coast were arguably civilized; they could (and were willing to) communicate with their new human neighbors. Trade was a tentative thing. Further inland from the southern coast was a vast plain; New Degan had wanted to move into that fertile area and establish plantations, but the elf towns had warned them against doing so recklessly; the so-called ‘Plains Elves’ that lived there wouldn’t likely take it too kindly.

  As far as New Degan was concerned, the nomadic elves of the plains were elusive lawless savages. As far as Dareth knew, no one had ever been able to speak to any of the Plains Elves.

  He moved his gaze from the unexplored plains north and west.

  “Sister Mercedes, my magical divinations point to a problem... here.” He tapped the map beyond New Degan’s known territories, to the northwest.

  “The map doesn’t show much.” She observed. Her voice was low and melodic. She was being polite; the area of the map he pointed to had two notations: ‘Forest?’ and ‘Mountains?’

  “We haven’t been out that way... officially, that is.” He replied, and then added, “As far as I know.”

  “You haven’t scryed?” Mercedes asked curiously, her armored hand reaching out to touch the map curiously.

  “I have no great skill with scrying.” He replied indifferently. “I can do some divination, but my skills are quite lacking. The real experts are on the other side of the Great Ocean.”

  “So what is up there?” She asked. “Do you know?”

  Dareth snorted. “I’ve never gone out that way, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m a scholar, and much too old for adventure.”

  She snorted softly, in amusement.

  “And what is a ‘monster’?” She asked curiously.

  “I’ve no idea. But if you come across one, I wouldn’t mind if you happened to bring a dead one back so I might dissect it for study.”

  She smiled at that. “I don’t know if I will have the freedom to do such a thing, but I’ll try.”

  Dareth nodded indifferently.

  “I can’t begin to imagine what sorts of things you might encounter out there, but do try to come back in one piece.” Dareth urged. “Heroes die glorious deaths, but it’s the cautious that live to see another day.”

  Mercedes nodded quietly. She’d rarely spoken to anyone, as far as Dareth knew. But that was the elves’ way, back in Degan; they spoke little, except amongst themselves.

  “My prayers to the Goddess for your safety.” He offered, and she nodded.

  She pointed at the map. “Might I take this with me?” She asked.

  Dareth grimaced. “Actually... It’s the one I use for my divinations. I can have the parts you need replicated, though.”

  She nodded. “Yes, please.”