The ancient great tree continued its everlasting vigil over Tangle’s decaying ruins.

  Windthrow stared up in awe. This may have been the only connection to his people that he’d seen with his own eyes.

  I had less grand thoughts: Evaluating how we could best explore the village and trying to remember if there was anything that might connect with Windthrow. Books, or maybe cultural artifacts? We could spend the next few hours searching and then spend the night here.

  Windthrow grabbed his bow and notched an arrow from his hip quiver.

  “We’re not alone,” he said. “Come out I know you’re here!”

  A huge pale dragonborn emerged from the shadowed ruins at the base of the tree. He was taller than Cleyre and his scales were a ghostly white.

  He wore an iron plate helmet over his head, completely obscuring his face. Only his red eyes were visible. His body was covered in matching dark plate armor.

  On his back was a massive greatsword, a hunk of metal almost as large as he was.

  The hulking dragonborn silently walked into the open, the whole time Windthrow traced his path with his bow.

  “Who are you!?” I shouted, as I pointed the tip of Tanglewood at the stranger.

  “Don’t aim at my brother! You weaklings!” Another voice shouted down at us from the higher levels of the village.

  Another pale dragonborn. This one was smaller, thinner and wore dark leather armor. She was on a balcony, aiming a loaded crossbow right towards me.

  Dammit, I was confident in my dodging, but a crossbow bolt was on another level.

  “How about you stop aiming at my companion and I’ll stop aiming at your brother?” Windthrow replied.

  “Deal!” The stranger lowered her crossbow, and in response Windthrow lowered his bow. The male dragonborn with the plate helmet didn’t so much as utter a word.

  “Now, Elf. Care to parley? My brother and I are quite interested in you and your…odd companion.”

  Great another person who thinks I’m weird, exactly what I wanted.

  The female dragonborn hopped off the balcony, landing next to her brother with an elegant flair. As if on cue, she curtsied while her brother bowed deeply.

  “I am Vertka Draciar, and this is my twin brother, Vormath Draciar.” Vormath reached into a green sack strapped to his arm.

  Somehow –impossibly– he retrieved a small wooden table and then an intricately carved chair. He set them in front of his sister. Vertka sat down, crossed her legs, and looked at us with a disdainful glare.

  “Now, let's speak like civilized people. We must sort out the matter of this little village we’ve found ourselves in,” Vertka said.

  Windthrow and I stood across the table.

  “What exactly are we discussing?” I asked. Before she could answer I followed up, “And where in the Emel Weald are you from?”

  “Oh I hope it doesn't look like we live in this forest.” Vertka laughed melodically and gestured to her brother.

  Vormath reached into his –clearly magical– bag and removed a light blue teapot and three teacups. Here –in the middle of an abandoned elf village– he prepared 3 steaming hot cups of tea. Windthrow and I didn’t pick up the cups that were clearly intended for us. But I was very tempted, it smelled divine.

  “Don’t be like that. Several rare magical artifacts were used to prepare you each a delicious cup of tea. It’d be rude not to try it.” She held a cup between her thumb and forefinger, she took a long sip. “Ah, you can’t get a taste like this through traditional means.”

  “Where. Are. You. From?” Windthrow asked.

  “A new nation, far to the west. Founded by the great Usurper Wrym, the one you owe for toppling the pesky Imperials that dominated this continent for far too long,” she said. “It’s called the People’s Republic of Portalis.”

  “I’ve never heard of the Usurper Wyrm, or your nation.”

  “What does a slave know about the affairs of gods?” She smirked at us.

  Windthrow reached for his bow, while I reached for Tanglewood –I’m ride or die like that. Vormath drew his massive sword with such force that our cups of tea were flung away, spilling amber liquid over the table. Vertka, without dropping her smirk, held up both hands.

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  “My mistake. I didn’t know that was a sore spot. A serious diplomatic blunder on my end.”

  Her brother quickly sheathed his sword. Windthrow and I tentatively lowered our weapons.

  “Onto the meat of the discussion, this village would make a useful outpost for our nation. What would it take for us to acquire it? We have several artifacts with us, and our government could offer–”

  “This village doesn't belong to either of us! And it won’t belong to your Usurper either,” I interjected.

  Vertka leaned on her palm and rolled her silver eyes.

  “I supposed it was too much to expect for you forest people to be organized. But if it doesn't belong to you then you won’t mind if we claim it! Would you even be able to stop us…”

  I felt a crushing weight emanating from both of them. Pure hostility, hatred. Like I was an ant crushed by an enormous thumb. I needed to run, but my animal instincts sensed that a single move meant death. Every path ended with me cleaved in two by her brother.

  “A Federation!” Windthrow shouted. “We’re on our way to a meeting in the Eastern Weald, our people are going to form a Federation. If your nation steals this place it’ll be a serious incident. An insult actually! To all of us!”

  She smiled wickedly and stared Windthrow down for several moments.

  “You can stand down, brother.” He sheathed his greatsword. “You’ve made your point. We’re not authorized to cause such an incident. Perhaps we’ll be seeing you at that meeting.”

  Vormath gathered the tea supplies and the furniture, each unnaturally shrinking as they passed into his magic bag. A moment later, the Draciar twins were walking out of Tangle.

  “Enjoy the village. We’ll see you soon, you might find yourself as fellow citizens of Portalis sooner than you think!”

  Without looking back she waved, as her silent brother walked beside her.

  Simultaneously, both Windthrow and I exhaled and collapsed to the ground.

  “Who were those people! What’s the Usurper?!” I frantically asked.

  “I don’t know– I can’t remember much from the War. They were dangerous. More dangerous than we could handle,” Windthrow said. “We must report this to Cleyre as soon as the Figurine is ready.”

  “Tomorrow, it’ll be ready tomorrow.” I stood up, and offered Windthrow a hand; he pulled himself to his feet.

  “Let’s not let those pompous twins derail us,” he said. “We’ll spend the rest of the day exploring Tangle.”

  I stood up straight and saluted, “Sounds good Sir!”

  Together we combed the town. We peeked through the abandoned doorways and under the smashed furniture. Searching every hut, every home and every shadow. Despite our unsettling meeting, Windthrow initially examined the town with the same intensity that he stalked prey.

  As we ascended each level of the town, his enthusiasm faded.

  On the uppermost level I showed him where I’d first found Tanglewood. I described how it had grown into the wall like a plant. I also showed him the trapped chest where I’d found my green-gold cloak – the only piece of clothing I consistently wore.

  We searched the room, figuring that it belonged to the leader of the village, there was nothing. Our search was a failure.

  We set up camp on the uppermost level, on the balcony overlooking the town. Windthrow lit a small fire on a bed of rocks, trying to not cause a catastrophic fire. That night we ate a simple meal while gazing at the empty town below us and at the brilliant sea of stars above us. Without light pollution to compete with, there were billions of them.

  Set against this beautiful canvas were the twin moons. Both were full, the ringed red moon and its smaller blue sister. The Weald was washed in their combined purple light. On Earth, they called this “bisexual lightning”.

  “Windthrow, I didn’t tell you but I had a dream –more of a vision– of Tangle, back when people lived here,” I said. “In the dream, a Dark Elf man gave me Tanglewood. I don’t know if any of that matters, but I want you to know that this place was magnificent.”

  “I wish I could have a dream like that…” He stood up and walked to his bedroll. “We should be okay without a watch tonight.”

  Windthrow climbed onto his bedroll. I knew this response. I’d done this response; there was no use in trying to get him to open up right now.

  Instead, it was time for a gamble! I stripped off my linen wraps and cloak. Taking a moment to enjoy the feel of the night air against my scales. I reached upwards and gave my tail a nice stretch. I would rather have taken a bath before trying this, but the realities of the wilderness prevented it. Plus some dudes might prefer that I not bathe first.

  I grabbed my blanket and threw it over Windthrow.

  “I’m fine, really,” he protested.

  “We’re cuddling tonight!” I said. “If you don’t want to cuddle, say something now or forever hold your peace!”

  I heard no further protests. Hehe, men were so predictable (I say that as a kinda former man). Anyway, what kinda monster would turn down a cuddle? Not Windthrow, and not me.

  I slid in behind him and wrapped my arms around his muscular chest. Then I pushed my soft breasts into his back, this was a slightly less innocent form of cuddling. I wanted to cheer him up, and my instincts were firmly under control this time. My hands would NOT be straying any lower –at least not tonight! I held him, felt his heart beating, and shared in his abundant body heat. I used my tail to gently stroke his leg as we cuddled.

  “Vylet, you don’t -”

  “Shh, go to sleep. We’re safe,” I interrupted.

  I felt his heart and breathing slow; he’d fallen asleep before me. The nerve!

  Soon the exhaustion of the eventful day washed over me. Usurper Wyrms, new nations…people more powerful than I could imagine. It was a lot. But there’d be time for it tomorrow. I pushed it out of my mind and fell asleep curled up with Windthrow.

  The journey so far: