The artwork above is not mine.

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    The storm lasted throughout the night, giving Kalian no choice but to wait until morning. Crossing the Vetiti after dark was a fool's errand, especially when his vision and footing would be impaired by the rain. Kalian sat on the outskirts of the forest, his dismal camp shielded from the rain by magic. He kept his ears pricked, listening for any approaching creatures, but they seemed just as content to wait out the storm as he was.

    Kalian tucked his wings around his shoulders, allowing their warmth to spread through his body. He often found himself grateful for his powerful Night Faerie wings, instead of the fragile gossamer wings of the Day Faeries. Day Faeries couldn't even fly in the rain. He could. His wings could keep him warm, shield him in battle, and even be used as weapons.

    Of course, they weren't without flaws of their own. If his wings grew too cold, they could become temporarily paralyzed. If they were too hot, they became nothing more than aching deadweight. Thankfully, Kalian didn't have to worry about either of those things very much, since his wings regulated their own temperatures in adjustment to their surroundings.

    He did have to worry when using them in battle. While the outer folds of his wings were covered in thick leathery membrane, the insides were soft and vulnerable. A blow to the inside of his wings could easily disable him. Blows to the outside took a little bit longer to register.

Luckily, it was very rare that anyone made a hit to his wings, even when he shielded himself with them. All Faeries were born knowing to protect their wings. It was one of their most primal and powerful instincts.

    Kalian peered over his shoulder, eyeing the uneven scars that stretched across his wings. He could still picture how they looked when he first received the wounds. Red, raw, and oozing blood. The pain had been like nothing he'd ever felt before. He'd nearly blacked out from it. In fact, he might have. He couldn't quite remember. He did remember that his instincts to protect his wings had been overpowered by his instincts to protect his family that night. He had failed to do both.

Kalian slipped his obsidian dagger into his palm, letting moonlight reflect off the smooth blade, and the gem embedded at the base of it. This dagger had spilled the blood of dozens, but it had yet to touch the man it was meant for. Kalian dragged his thumb over the sharp edge of the blade until blood beaded against his skin.

    He'd have to be careful in the Ironblade camp. He'd be passing himself off as a Human, so no Ironblade would care if iron touched him. They would probably try to coat him in iron armor and hand him iron weapons. Kalian grimaced, already knowing how the metal would burn against his skin and stifle his magic. As long as the iron stayed out of his body, he would be able to recover, but if iron found its way into his bloodstream...

    Kalian sheathed his dagger and freed his sword from its scabbard. Asar had been specially crafted for him many years ago, as a gift from the late King Torin. It was made from a unique Faerie forged metal, making it lightweight and durable. It was capable of cutting through limbs with a single stroke, and had saved his life more times than he cared to admit.

    Kalian traced his fingers over the ornate runes carved into the crossguard. They were written in a forgotten language. He'd asked every Witch he came across if she would be able to decipher it, but none had yet. Not even the Witches and Faeries who had helped forge the blade knew what the runes read.

    Kalian's fingers drifted to the blood ruby melded into the crossguard. No doubt the Humans would ask why a random stranger carried such ornate weapons, and why he refused to handle iron ones. Fortunately, he would have little trouble coming up with a story that they would believe. Ironblades had weaknesses of their own, and he would play them to his advantage.

    Gradually, the first rays of dawn spilled over the horizon. The dark clouds overhead began to disperse, and rain ceased to fall. Kalian stood, stretching his limbs to ease the stiffness that had crept into them. He checked the buckles on his leathers before tightening the leather straps across his chest and around his leg. They were attached to his sheaths. His dagger was easily accessible on his thigh, while his sword hung comfortably between his wings.

    Kalian faced the Vetiti, curling his nails into his palms. It would only take him half of the day to cross the forest on foot. He couldn't risk flying, in case any Ironblades were close enough to spot him. In fact, he needed to glamour himself soon. He could do that while he walked, as long as he made sure nothing was stalking him. Kalian set out, ice blue magic already swirling around his fingers.

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    The forest was as dark and gloomy as it had been every time he ventured into it before. Fog rested on the ground, hiding Kalian's boots from sight. He followed the narrow path cautiously, stepping over tree roots, rocks, and hollows as he came upon them. He kept his senses peeled, waiting for the first sign of an attack.

    Kalian shivered as he began to glamour his wings. The magic coated his skin, tingling as it hid his wings from view. He would have to be careful not to bump into anyone or let anyone run into him. They might not be able to see his wings, but they could still feel them. Glamouring was merely an illusion, and the depths of its believability had limits.

    Kalian lifted his hands to his ears, allowing them to take on the round curve of Human ones. Birds tweeted overhead, flitting from one tree branch to another. Kalian paused, but no other sounds reached him. He kept going and his magic spread to his face. Kalian muted his features slightly, taking away the sharp angles and soft curves that gave him a distinctly Faerie look.

    His magic faded and he lowered his hands, hoping his glamour was passable for now. He'd have to reapply it at least twice a day or the magic would fade, but being in the middle of an Ironblade unit would help him remember. At least I don't have to try to remember a false name in addition to everything else, Kalian thought with some relief.

    While his name might be common amongst Faeries, it remained unknown by Humans. They knew of the Shadow of Death, of course. When a Faerie was hunting Humans and left their corpses for others to find, word traveled quickly.

    However, no Human had ever survived him long enough to pass on what his true name was, and no Faerie, no matter how much they despised him, would risk handing over someone who was experienced in taking down their enemy. He could introduce himself as Kalian Deirdre and no one would think it odd.

    The hours passed uneventfully, but Kalian didn't complain. He preferred boredom over facing one of the many dangerous creatures roaming the Vetiti. He'd had the privilege of meeting some of them many times before, and had been lucky to escape with only a few scars.

    At last, the edge of the Vetiti was in sight. Kalian slunk beyond the tree line and caught sight of Sparrowhaven just up ahead. He squared his shoulders and strode into the village, monitoring anyone for signs of recognition. His glamour did its job and no one spared him a second glance, save for a few courtesans lounging on chaises outside of a brothel.

    "You look like a man who attends to his every need come first light," a brunette crooned, waving him over. She shifted and her thin silk gown slipped aside, revealing a sleek curvy leg.

    "I hate to disappoint," Kalian answered, "but I attend to more important affairs come first light."

    "Such as?" A ginger with a high pitched voice prompted.

    "Vengeance. Retribution. Death." Kalian kept his tone cold and flat, as always. A few of the women backed away, seemingly unnerved. "So I don't have time to pay you for your services, but I can pay you for information."

    "What kind of information?" The brunette asked.

    "Where can I find the Ironblade unit working these parts? I was told there's one around here."

    "There is. West side of town, just a few miles away from the border of the Vetiti." Kalian flipped her a silver mark and turned to leave. "Do you have a score to settle with Faeries, Sir?"

    Kalian plastered a smirk to his lips. "Doesn't everyone?" The ladies laughed as he walked away.

    He stuck to the edge of the main road, following it through the center of Sparrowhaven. No one else called after him, though most people bowed their heads or offered quiet 'Good mornings'. Kalian returned them occasionally, even as his thoughts roamed.

    I'll have to find out which Ironblade is commanding this unit, he thought. That could make or break this assignment. I'll have to figure out a way to get close to them. Close enough that they'll reveal their plans on their own, or I'll have access to their records and reports. As for passing myself off as an Ironblade... He'd already come up with a story for that. Mixing the truth with a lie always made that part easier, both to remember, and to make believable.

    Kalian left Sparrowhaven behind presently and continued walking west, keeping an eye on the border of the Vetiti in the distance. After another ten minutes of walking, Kalian paused, sniffing the air. The scent of smoke reached him. His heart leaped with panic, before he managed to rein in his emotions.

    It's just campfires, Kalian told himself. That means I'm close to the camp. I'll be able to see it any minute now.

    Sure enough, numerous tents met his gaze when he crested the next small rise in the road. Smoke curled above the camp and the clanging of hammers and anvils reverberated through his ears. Kalian winced, then plastered a neutral expression across his face. He couldn't do anything to give himself away. An Ironblade might notice even the smallest thing, such as him flinching at a loud noise. He'd have to make sure he didn't let them see just how strong his senses were.

    Kalian walked until he reached the camp's perimeter. There, two guards halted him. "You're new," one of them said. "What are you doing here?"

    "There's really only one reason anyone wants to find the Ironblades, so you should already know," Kalian answered.

    The second guard snorted while the first one glared between the two of them. "Answer the question if you want to pass."

    "I'm here to help rid the world of monsters."

    "Hmph. You'll want to come up with a better reason than that for the Commander. She'll throw you out on your ass if you speak to her in that tone."

    She? Kalian noted. This Commander is female. He quickly wracked his brain for every female Ironblade Commander he'd heard of. There weren't many.

    "Get inside," the guard barked. "Find a man called Lir near the fires. He'll put you to work until the Commander returns." Kalian inclined his head and stepped between the guards. "And you'll go with him, seeing as you're so keen to make friends."

    Kalian heard a muffled whack and the second guard toppled at his feet. The young man picked himself up, dusting off his leathers while flashing Kalian a smile. "Bellamy Rame," he said, holding out a hand. Kalian didn't shake it, noticing the iron coating his fingers.

The man let his hand fall after a moment. "Come on. Lir is this way. You might want to talk to him a little more respectfully than you did Malachi. He'll throw you in the fires without a second thought."

    Kalian's breath quickened at the thought, but he kept his expression blank. Ice spread through his veins, chilling the fear that threatened to seize his chest. Now wasn't the time to panic. He had a job to do, so he would do it. "Lead the way," Kalian offered. Bellamy grinned and sauntered through the camp.