THE HALFLORD
I pace before my throne.
Where are they?
They cannot be stupid enough to stay in the forest. They are supposed to be clever. So I shall not send patrols there. Yet.
My fingers curl into fists. The sharp, pearly nails dig into my palm, and I stop as blood drips from them like so many times before.
“S-sir, your hands, shall I fetch-”
“Leave them, Eroen!” I snap. The servant backs away. “And send patrols to Ashuur Desert.”
“Yes sir. And- one moment...” Eroen says as a guard rushes up and whispers in his ear. Eroen nods. “Sir, Miykon wishes to see you.”
I narrow my eyes. The doors across the room bang open, and a girl with deathly pale skin and gray-tipped white hair walks in, her hair back in a ponytail and flapping out behind her.
“Halflord, I have news. A Masked One has been sighted in Gravenorth, near the border. He was traveling with one of the Clawers.”
Miykon stops talking and waits for me to respond. Her scarlet shirt and black capris have turned gray in the dim light.
I nod. But this is strange. The Masked Ones haven’t journeyed out of Dreyeken since twenty years ago.
Then again, twenty years is nothing to them and their Clawer friends.
“Good. I will ride out to capture him tomorrow. He may help in our cause, and his Clawer bond too.”
“Very well, sir.” Miykon responds with a nod. She leaves.
“Eroen,” I say. “Show me the records of the Masked Ones. I need to see something.”






***
A few minutes later, I prove what I have assumed. The Masked Ones and Clawers have not left Dreyeken since before I was born.
“Why are they returning?” I murmur to myself. “They shouldn’t be in Gravenorth. If they had any sense they would keep away from the war.”
The sun sets behind my window. I shut the book and leave the musty-smelling room. Tomorrow I will search for this Masked One.





***
The next morning, I awake and stretch, looking around the room. A small black clock sits on my bedside table. The walls are clean and white. The floor is black shag carpet. A slime white notebook sits on my cherry-wood desk.
Time to find the Masked One. And his Clawer, though it may not be as useful.
I ponder for a moment what to do if they refuse to join me. I could kill them, I could....
I know.
“Sami!” I call. The coffee-skinned boy exits his room and runs up. “Yes sir?”
“Prepare the arena. I want to have some fun with the Masked One and his Clawer.” I chuckle.