They waited only for a few moments before two doors on the side of the great room swung open noiselessly to admit the ruling Council of Seven. They filed in and took their places in ceremonious silence, and remained thus for several minutes, simply staring at Hosus and the other man.

“Hosus, daughter of Trieth, and Pral Stanj. You have been summoned before this ruling Council on matters of great import. But firstly, would you prefer to sit? We may be together for quite some time.” With this, the man sitting in the middle, whom Hosus took to be the Council Minister, motioned to the chairs in front of them. Hosus decided it might be wise to show them some respect, at least for the time being.

Pral, however, remained standing. His eyes never stayed still, but were constantly roving all over the room, scanning everything. Hosus could not decide if this was merely paranoia or simply the way the man acted. She did not let it bother her.

The man nodded, once, his mouth twitching almost imperceptibly at Pral. “Very well, down to business. You have been summoned because you both have tremendous talents. This council has recently uncovered information that could be dangerous to our land in the future if it is not immediately acted upon. We are asking you,” here he paused, as if contemplating his next words. “We are asking you to make a foray into the Dead Lands and retrieve a certain artifact we believe has been hidden there. Please, do not scoff at this duty. This artifact, if it were activated, could be an instrument of great destruction in the wrong hands.”

            Once again he paused, this time gauging both Hosus and Pral’s reactions. Neither of them even twitched at the news, though Hosus was experiencing no small measure of incredulity.

            Appearing satisfied, the man opened his mouth again to continue, but he was cut short when Pral finally spoke.

            “Reveal your true plans, Herkiel, or we will certainly not cooperate.”

            Herkiel’s mouth snapped shut with a click. Even in the relative gloom of the Council chambers, Hosus could see color flood his cheeks. She glanced quickly at Pral, wondering why he might include her, but he was as stoic as ever.

            The Council Minister immediately reined in his anger, and said normally, “Very well, Pral. If you will be insolent to this Council, we will simply dismiss you. Guards!”

            A pair of well-armed guards entered the room and flanked Pral, who still did not move. The minister nodded, and they took an arm each and tried to steer Pral out of the room. Quick as lightning, he broke their grips, and with two swift strikes, left the guards crumpled on the ground.

            The Council collectively gasped, and Hosus was impressed by this man’s speed and skill. Pral returned to his former position, and stared hard at Herkiel. The minister stared defiantly back, but could not hold the stare for long.

            “Tell us the rest, Minister,” Pral made the title sound like a curse, “or both of us shall leave you to fetch your artifact on your own.”

            Herkiel stared at his guards, his jaw hanging. Hosus could almost smell the fear emanating from the entire Council, but it was strongest from Herkiel. She smiled slightly to herself, impressed with how Pral had so quickly reversed the side with power.

            Although Pral had spoken to the minister, it was another of the Council who spoke. Hosus looked at him, but did not know his name. “This artifact was the source of the original Seven’s power. It allowed them to regulate the weather and other factors to improve the harvest. But over six generations ago, the Council decided to lock the artifact in a vault. They feared the possible consequences of theft, for their neighbors to the south had been raiding deep into Teradan lands. It is this artifact that has been stolen. We want it returned before the thieves discover how to activate it and bring destruction down upon us all.”

            Though Hosus had long learned to control her emotions, this news shocked her profoundly and it showed on her face. Pral, however, did not look impressed by this information, merely bored.

            “We have now revealed to you what no one outside of this council has knowledge of. We are charging you with the task of retrieving the Staff of Archelum and return it to us, that we might hide it once more and keep it safe.”

            Hosus glanced up at Pral, but he did not return her look. “I cannot speak for my companion, but I will accept this task,” he said, with surprising humility. Though Hosus had her doubts, she also agreed quickly, and the meeting adjourned.

            She and Pral walked out together, not speaking until they had left the building. When they were finally in a trafficked area, Pral turned to her and offered his hand. “My name, as you know, is Pral Stanj. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

            Hosus shook his proffered hand, and nodded her agreement. “It seems, now that we are partners in this endeavor, we should exchange more than names,” she stated simply.

            Pral eyed her, and then gave a curt nod. “Not here though. Let us adjourn to someplace more private.” He walked off in the direction, not of the inns, but rather towards the docks. Hosus had no choice but to follow.

            They walked down the crowded streets, refraining from speaking until they reached their destination. Hosus kept glancing at her large companion, wondering about him, where he came from, what was his history, why were they embroiled in this together. The questions never ended, but she was patient, knowing she would not discover the answers immediately.

            The buildings around them quickly changed the further from the town proper they moved. The well-maintained, red-slated roofs began to diminish in height, and the shingles looked worn and weathered. The meticulously clean streets acquired trash along the edges, and the paving stones were worn smooth by the countless footsteps of merchants and sailors traveling towards the inns.

            The smell of the river met her nostrils, and she breathed deeply of the damp scent. It had been many years since Hosus had seen the large river that ran through Terada and carried trade items to and from the capital city, but she would never forget that scent.

            She finally spotted the docks from around a building at the end of the street. This main thoroughfare from the docks to the city curved slightly, so new travelers moving towards the city center would be constantly surprised at the simple beauties around the bend.       Hosus peered out upon the many docks that extended out into the river, taking up only a quarter of the immense waterway. They looked like fat, stubby fingers grabbing greedily at the wealth the river represented. Hosus resented this perversion of nature, but she understood the necessity.

            They were almost among the ships when Pral finally turned into a dilapidated building where the door hung askew on rusted hinges. She entered and her ears were immediately assaulted by shouted conversations and raucous laughter. She peered up at Pral, and figured this place was as safe as any for a private conversation.

            Working their way to the back of the tavern, they took a small table in the corner, and both put their backs to the wall. A waitress walked by to take their orders. Pral asked for ale but Hosus shook her head. They waited in relative silence until his drink was ordered.

            Though she was growing slightly impatient, Hosus showed none of it and waited stoically for Pral to sip his ale. When he placed the mug back on the table, nearly empty, she expected him to begin speaking. When he remained silent, Hosus decided to begin.

            “So who are you really? You’re name might be Pral Stanj, but that tells me nothing about you.”

            Pral glanced over at her before speaking. “I am like you, a loner,” he said, a sad grin appearing slowly, “some might even call me a mercenary.”

            Though Hosus had known several mercenaries in her time, she had never met any like this. Though she assumed she would have heard of such a one as Pral before, she took nothing for granted. “You fight for money. Perhaps not an honest profession, but a lucrative one.”

            He almost looked surprised, shrugging away her comment. “And yourself?” he asked in turn.

            “A hunter by profession.”

            He shrugged again, his only reaction to her taciturnity.

            “So what do you propose we do first?” Hosus asked, not really expecting an immediate answer.

            “Straight to business. I expected no less.” At this Hosus looked quickly at him, suspicion glowing brightly in her eyes. “Though my name may not be known to you, Hosus of Trieth, you are certainly known to me. A hunter…”here he paused for a moment, “of your aptitude does not go unnoticed to those who search for such talents.”

            At this, Hosus made as if to leave, but as soon as she put her hand on the tabletop her wrist was seized in an iron grasp. “You don’t want to leave. That would only draw unwanted attention.”

            “From whom? Friends of yours?”

            “Do not be silly. Do you truly believe that we are the only ones searching for the Council’s artifact? Just because we know more than others, do not assume we are alone.”

 

            Their relationship from that point on had been strained, and it had only been in recent weeks that her suspicion of him had diminished to a normal level. After that incident in the tavern, they had decided to gather a small group of fighters to aid them. Pral found Bertan and Nar, and Hosus managed to convince Phanza, who she had known since they were children. Glyc and Wenley were last moment additions to their party. When they had all met in the town of Drakna before setting out, the town had been holding a festival. One of the spectacles was an archery tournament, and the twins had tied for first place. Though they fired a dozen shafts apiece, neither was able to outscore the other and they finally split the grand prize. After the tournament, Pral and Hosus approached them jointly, offering them the adventure of a lifetime. The twins had deliberated only a few moments before agreeing. With that, their group was set. They started out on their journey the next day.

            Now, two months later, Hosus wondered if any of them were experiencing doubts about this endeavor. She only hoped that, in the end, they would all live to tell about it.