It was only four in the afternoon when the world went dark, and the more to the north they would come, the stranger the days and nights would look. 

The road now did not cross many towns, and if it did, they were small and they were not worth staying for long. 

Little Dokians could handle the dark forest in winter, and many were leaving these days, chasing the news of wealth from the cities in the north, where the sun shone brighter and they could see the ocean. 

They soon came to the forest’s edge. 

Approaching it, the road sloped gently down as it led them into the open fields of the Suhuy Trastra. 

Ma’an shuddered at the sudden loss of the walls of trees. But before the meadows, the land dipped into swamps and marshes. The road went on at most a metre or so above the water, supported by stone pillars. 

There were small island-like hills with flat tops, but most in front of them now was water with a thin layer of ice on it. Reeds, stones, and branches stuck out of it.

‘Let’s pause here for now,’ Yorell said, and he helped Ma’an off Piyar. 

The horse snorted and started to graze the grass that was now plenty by the forest edge. 

Ma’an stared into the distance. 

Out of the dense Kahaylt, the flat country of Doku now displayed the far north across its plains, until the lands went up in mist in the distance. He saw a vague shadow of mountains against the northern sky, but they seemed more like thin ghosts than actual masses. 

Towards the northeast, he saw small lights of towns and villages. Through the twilight, the road was only visible as a glimmering path between the twinkling ice. 

Within the shallow dales, glimpses of the river could be seen, the edges of which were obscured by the marshes.

‘What is the plan, Ma’an?’ Yorell asked, and he stretched his legs, which had become sore from being on horseback all day.

‘I propose we rest for now, but preferably in a more sheltered place. I don't think the night will be as gentle as the day,’ Ma’an said. 

Yorell wasn’t sure what he was referring to exactly, but he agreed. 

A definite danger was the weather: though the sky had been clear all day, thick clouds were now rolling in from the east. 

They retreated back into the forest after Piyar had eaten and they had watched the sunlight slowly disappear.

Within the forest’s edge, a hundred metres west to the road, they set up camp. It consisted of a small tent and a campfire. 

They sat around it on cloths and warmed themselves while they made a small meal. 

Yorell had brought a small pan and utensils, but they were not yet needed as they had bought a couple of pre-made meals in Larlma which would suffice for a couple of days.

‘Are we in danger, Ma’an? If you tell me, I may be able to give better advice,’ Yorell said softly when they had eaten and stared at the fire.

‘I do not know. I do not know if I’m being followed,’ Ma’an simply said.

‘Then who could be following you, and why?’ 

Ma’an sighed. 

Somehow, Yorell did not give him the option to not answer.

‘I… I used to work for an organisation, the Astral Order, and I fear that I have made myself an enemy of theirs. I am unsure whether they are following me, though. I have not seen them, but I have felt… something.’

‘I see, the Astral Order… What is that? What did you do to become their enemy?’ Yorell leaned his head on his hands. His bright eyes pierced him. 

Ma’an chuckled at his curiosity. ‘I suppose I owe you the story, don't I?’

‘You do not owe me anything, Ma’an, but I would like to know what brought you here and what is driving you so far up north. If you share your story, I will tell you mine, if you desire. We both know neither of us want to cross the North Pole just for fun, right?’ They looked at each other, the fire flickering in their eyes. 

Both had a smile, awaiting the breaking of this tension.

‘The Astral Order…’ Ma’an began, and they knew this would mark the real start of their journey, ‘…is a wizard organisation. The biggest of Peijh. They busy themselves with all keiïa affairs, and they protect – or rather control – the most valuable resources regarding it, like books, spells, and ancient sites. Most wizards are members of the Order. So was I. Or, well… I suppose I still am, I never officially quit but I doubt they still consider me a part of it.

‘Anyway, I was sent by them to investigate some cult in the land of Kiz a couple of years ago. I went with four others of the same rank. We were Midraü Zanë, Evergreen Stargazers. We were essentially spies that travelled and reported on ongoings around Peijh. I was not the leader of that company, but I knew that I was an essential part of it.

'You see, we were supposed to destroy a sacred monument there, a monument that meant a lot to a rebel cult from the region. It was a long journey; you’ve seen the map. We went all the way north to the great Sajir Mountains, through the haunted woodlands of Ila, and into Kiz. It was hard: the cold was terrible, and towns were far between. But we pushed through, and eventually came to Kiz, a land where no one lives, save perhaps a handful of Mantean migrants, whom I actually met briefly later on.

'No one knew exactly what we were looking for, for Ila and Kiz are ever changing, and especially on the borderlands nothing stays for long. Except for one thing, which had been present there for over twenty thousand years. It turned out we were meant to cut down a tree.’ 

Ma’an stopped for a moment, then laughed. 

‘That sounds very anticlimactic, doesn’t it? You probably do not know what it means to cut down a tree around Ila.’ 

Yorell let out a confused chuckle. ‘I do not.’

‘Many millennia ago, the Realm of Ila was established when Utauna, a young human, was spoken to by one of the great trees of the ancient woods of northern Peijh. This tree was called the Kutrayamok and was the easternmost of those trees. It is a complicated story, but Utauna was – thanks to Kutrayamok – the first to use keiïa in Peijh, and so she came to rule over most of the north.

'Now, the Realm of Ila has been gone for centuries, but the last remnant of its old forests is still intact and serves as a place of pilgrimage for those that are still loyal to the Warden’s Dynasty, Utauna’s descendants. They are regarded as dangerous by the Astral Order; I suppose they form a threat for their hegemony of spell regulation and distribution.

'I had agreed to come there and cause destruction, for I had been told that the rebels were a danger to us, but I did not know that it was this tree, this being, that I had to kill. I had been brought because I was the only Midraü Zanë that was capable of such controlled destruction to eradicate the Kutrayamok.

'They had kept this from us, for they feared we would not comply if we had known from the start that we were to destroy a creature so powerful and so significant. Our leader had expected us to cave under the journey and thought we would comply, so alone in a dangerous land.

'But I refused. I was angry with them and swore to protect Kutrayamok with my life. And we fought, and I proved too strong. I killed my leader. I told the rest to leave and never enter the Illic lands again. They fled, and so I was alone in an unknown land.

'Kutrayamok was fed up and went north. I thought, perhaps, that I should follow, but I was not ready, and I was still figuring out what had happened. So, I decided to go east. I crossed Kiz and went into Punt, crossed the sea, and landed on western Miranitia, only to end up here, in Doku.’ 

Ma’an was quiet for a moment, but clearly had more to say.

‘I did not mean to kill that person. I felt betrayed, both by my company and my leaders.' His voice grew quieter. 'They had no right to kill that tree, no more than I had the right to kill that stargazer…’ 

‘So, Kutrayamok is a… haunted tree?’ Yorell asked softly.

‘Do you know what Ziriü are, Yorell?’ 

‘A… spirit?’ he guessed the meaning, but was not sure what it implied.

‘Hmhm, spirits that are not from this world. Kutrayamok has many of them in it. They’re powerful, and they make keiïa possible. Many beings are in it, some bigger than others. I felt their presence when I stood next to it. I could not destroy those beings. I do regret that it had to come so far, but I hope you understand.’

‘That’s quite a story, Ma’an. I do not think I am in a position to judge – not at all, but it does not seem like you were entirely in the wrong. Of course it’s… never justified to end someone’s life, but you had to make a choice,’ Yorell said. 

He tilted his head and looked at the lone tear that ran down Ma’an’s cheek.

‘I haven't even answered your questions, have I? Though I suppose it’s obvious that it’s the Order that I fear now. I have never heard of them going overseas, but there are many things I do not know.’

‘I understand. I’m afraid that since I am not familiar with this Order I will not be of much help. I can only say we have never seen anyone like you in these lands, so I reckon it’s unlikely that they know the way around here, if they can even trace your long path. Thank you for your story, Ma’an. I hope I can be of assistance, if anything does happen,’ Yorell said, ‘…and you seem like a powerful wizard; I apologise if my words and actions have not been proper.'

Ma’an shook his head. ‘No need to apologise. You have treated me better than I could have asked for. I agree it is unlikely they find me worthy of persecution here, but I will keep an eye out. Thank you for letting me tell my story. It’s not exactly an inspiring one. And I apologise for not informing you earlier. I don’t think you want to turn back, but I understand if you wish to leave my company.’ As he spoke, he wrapped his scarf tightly around him. 

The night brought a cold that did not ride the wind, and instead slowly seeped into his bones.

‘Oh, no, Ma’an. I… I’m afraid it should be the other way around. My story is significantly worse.’ Yorell swallowed. 

Ma’an looked up with a frown, which softened when he saw him... 

His face was fearful, his eyebrows in a shaky frown, as if he looked right at his world falling apart. 

‘Please tell me, Yorell. It’ll be a relief.’