Chapter 3

  Quenral

  The voices are louder, each rumor through the village, each whisper spread as fast as a virus, all buzzing against his scrolls. He felt it, all the rumors being told, all of his recent excitement causing the village to be quite aberrant. Each one made a buzz in his head, his scrolls of long haired-history lengthen with every word. Raphael was even off-beat, his normally groomed fur whirled up to the tips of his twisted whiskers.

  ¨This is preposterous!¨ The major lady crowed, her hands up in exasperation. A young guard from the low-ranks of the village had gone against orders and brought outlanders into the village. They were an odd bunch, one boy looking more womanly than the actual supposed women. The girl's hair was as blond as the dog beds, and short as a toddlers. Villagers appear in Ravenwood, for the first time in 50 years. The buzzing continues. Each intricate detail carved into his brain as his hair.

  ¨Why would you do such a thing, you clodpoll, nitwit! Do you even realise what you've done?¨ The major roars, anger as fierce as a griffin. ¨You paraded a group of dizards through our town and confirmed the wreck of the town's peace!¨

  Quenral lifts Raphael into his arms, ink oozing across his cream-white sleeves as the raccoon turns to watch the boy and his mistakes. After they both get situated, Quenral glances at the outcasters, who′d been knocked out and tied upon no less than an hour ago. Glances them up and down, from their odd hair down to the way their clothing feels. It was more stretchy than that of the villagers' own clothing, but not as clean or refined.

  The girl′s style was most interesting, to Quenral. Despite being a woman, her hair was short, sticking out slightly in a poof, straight and short, not long enough to fall downwards though. Before passing out, she had been pinching the raven haired one, strict and knowledgeable. She seemed to adapt fast and it was clear. The way she was raised was clearly different from his own. He wondered if she also mapped people out with such ease based on such seemingly insignificant details.

  Quenral jumps, Raph hiding beneath his scrolls as a loud thud sounds through the room. Hanma had pushed Zorche down the few steps that were in the center of the room. He wasn't hurt much, a few scrapes but mostly clean, though through the way he looked down it was clear his pride was broken down piece by piece as fast as an earthquake within the hour they had him here.

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  The boy sits up, his blond spiky hair falling to cover his face. Quenral almost smiled, even after falling he has the spirit of a guard in him, even after being destroyed. His chin raised again after a few moments to meet Lady Hanma's eyes. Quenrals smile soon falls in shock.

  ¨You told me to protect the village. That was my job. It's what I vowed my priven on it. ¨ This makes the room go silent and cold as stone. It's true, he vowed his priven on it. A priven was just as important to people as the gods. It was one's existence, a priven broken was the same as being erased from the world. Even from the scrolls of history, even a world renowned hero who broke a priven was erased, no matter how many monsters he defeated.

  ¨I don't trust them either, that's why I brought them home.¨ Zorche states, his cool eyes burning with reason, ¨What if they planned to attack somebody? What if they came to spy? What if they're leading the fractus back home?¨

  The lady steps back, ring finger tapping the center of her palm, she was thinking. Reconstructing the village in her head as fast as a puzzle master. Of course she was, she was the major. Somebody born to build new pieces for the thousand long puzzle. And it was her priven oath to make sure nobody disappears. Never again.

  ¨You stand correct, dear dog. I guess I was wrong, your loyalty has not wavered, and I praise you for that.¨ Hanma says, eyes drifting from the boy to the outbounders, ring finger digging into his palm. ¨However, you bring them into this village, and we don't have anywhere to put them. We have had no reason, so I will instruct you to watch them.¨

  ¨Major lady, please think this through!¨ Quenral gasps, strutting towards the major on his stringbean legs, Raphael wrapped around his shoulders in equal protest. ¨He is a child, low ranked! We don't know who they are!¨

  ¨Scilence, bobolyne, Of course he wont be handling them alone. That would be absolutely ludicrous.¨ She snaps, eyes as sharp as the blades in the market as she turns to face him. ¨I′m no idiot, and you are no leader.¨

  Quenral goes quiet. He knew what was about to happen, a simple puzzle even a baby can solve.

  ¨Wait in the routing room, Zorche, and drag these unconscious bobolynes with you.¨ Major lady states, her instructions clear. Zorche nods and grabs them, following orders as quickly as a woodwender.

  Once Zorche disappeared, the children all gone, the major lady walked over to Quenral, her hands at her side, steps strong and commanding.

  ¨Yes, major?¨ Quenral chokes out.

  ¨grab your raccoon and write a letter. ¨

  ¨y-yes, major.¨ he replies, grabbing Rapheal and wrapping him in a piece of paper right from the desk a few feet away, ¨what do you need to say, and to whom?¨

  The Major walks over, her lips curving up in the corners as she speaks, the racoons paws dripping the words into the paper in shiny ink as shiny as the stars in the night sky.