As Dusk marked the first, and Noon the second, so too shall Dawn bring with it the third of the holy wars, and a final end to the Age of Man.

—An excerpt from Jian Highthorne's Prophecies of the Struggle of Man

****

Forcing his way through the barbs and brambles of the squat mountain, Markus cursed as a branch he had pushed away flew back to swat him in the face, cutting his cheek.

"Damned thing," he muttered quietly.

Using the fingers on his gloved right hand, he wiped the small amount of blood from his cheek before moving on. He was a large man, of at least thirty years, with broad shoulders and a long-sleeved, white jerkin hanging loosely over his upper body. His left hand held a very long and sturdy warbow, as well as a few arrows in the same grip. Hanging at his waist, the bodies of a few rabbits dangled, tied at their feet.

Looking at those few rabbits—the results of his hunt—he hesitated.

"I wanted to leave them with something more impressive for my final night." He mumbled to himself.

Taking the bow and arrows into his right hand, he removed the glove on his left, revealing a simple silver wedding band, within which clouds seemed to shift. Looking at its underside, the ring had three small gems embedded, completely level with the surface of the band. The leftmost gem was dull and colorless, while the center had a very dim golden hue. The rightmost gem had a bright glow that seemed wholly restrained within the bounds of the stone.

"Already early in the afternoon. I've been out here for too long." He realized.

Stopping to think for a moment, he looked down at the hanging rabbits by his waist before putting his glove back on and once more taking the bow in his left.

"Just a bit more." He decided, still speaking out loud, as he often did when alone in the woods.

'Perhaps that's why I can't find any real game.'

Continuing his hunt, Markus made an effort to quiet his movement as much as possible, though the damned brambles would have nothing of it. For another hour he searched, with nothing to show for it but a Green Striker, a snake of vivid hues he had accidentally stepped on.

Yet just as he was considering calling it here and going back to enjoy the rest of the day with his family, Markus heard the sound of movement ahead. A slow, steady gait, heavier than anything else he'd found this day.

'That's surely more than a rabbit.'

Slowly, he made his approach, knocking a long arrow on the string of his bow, and moving with his left hand forward and down, the gloved fingers of his right hand resting on the string. As he drew near, Markus realized he was approaching an opening in the woods and smiled at his fortune.

The bowstring was pulled back slowly, silently, a force too great for any ordinary man to hold. His breathing slowed and his body stilled. A great hunter had once tried to teach Markus the way of the bow, and right now those lessons surfaced in his mind one after another until he finally laid eyes on his prey.

"By The Six…" he hissed.

The beast heard his mutter and its head swiveled in his direction with great speed, but even still Markus stared dumbly, the taut bow loosening as his arms lowered.

What he had laid eyes on that day, within that relative clearing, was something straight out of legend. A man, it appeared, with a naked body so defined it seemed sculpted, a face so handsome it could only be called supernaturally so. Its skin seemed unnaturally pale, with long hair like a woman's, stark white in color. But it was not this that had shocked Markus, rather, it was the legs and waist, like that of a goat, and it's horns, extending back from its head in branching paths like antlers.

The creature looked at Markus inquisitively with its golden eyes, tilting its head to the side. It leaned in his direction, lifting its face as it sniffed at the air, before grimacing and turning to flee into the woods, it's goatlike legs working to astounding agility.

"Runa…" Markus' voice echoed in shock as he watched the creature flee.

Even as he gulped his throat felt dry, his back matted with sweat. When he returned to his senses, he spun his head around to look at the surrounding woods for anything else so extraordinary but was left inevitably disappointed.

There, he was left standing alone, unsure of the validity of his memory.

'Was that... real? Or has my head been damaged by some old blow?' It was a serious possibility, given his line of work. 'Either way, I need to move, I've ventured too far.' Turning back to the route he had taken, he left with haste. He had traveled further up the mountain than he usually would, searching for bigger game, and it would take a while to make his way back.

'A Runa. A real-life Runa!' He thought as he continued to backtrack his way down the mountain.

****

When Markus exited the dense woods, fresh air and sky visible once more, he looked out over the clear land ahead, dotted only sporadically with trees and bushes. In the distance, he could see the silhouette of a town surrounded by farmlands. That was Falrum, his home.

Now out of the light obstructing woods, his face and frame could be seen clearly, under the illumination of the afternoon sun. Taller than most with broad shoulders, he had bright blue eyes and blonde hair swept back with volume. His skin was rough and tanned, and a large scar, looking like the wound of a fatal cut, ran along the left side of his neck. Another, similarly from a cut, could be found to the right of his chin. A wide, defined jaw and prominent features would have made him handsome, but his heavy stubble, scars, and muscular body left him a more grizzled appearance.

Taking a deep breath of fresh air, he looked back once more at the woods behind him, as if searching for something between those barked trunks, before shaking his head and continuing towards home in something of a daze.

Walking down a narrow path between fields, Markus let his gloved hand run along the low stone fences by its side. The path served no real purpose other than to make the life of loggers and hunters easier, but he certainly appreciated it. There were no more human settlements on the other side of that mountain range. At least, none Markus was aware of. When he was young, and still on good terms with his family, he had received quite an advanced education, and never once was there mention of people living beyond.

Thinking of family, his mind couldn't help but wander to Liane and his little one, As an inevitable smile crept onto his face.

'I'm going to miss them in the months to come.' He sighed.

Reaching the boundary of the town, he was greeted with a stone wall, just taller than his own height. The wall was an old one, as old as the town itself, and bore many decrepit, ruinous segments to exhibit the fact. Markus assumed it was built by the original founders to defend against the forsaken. It was no more than a relic nowadays though.

'According to the old tale, the Runa defended the mountains, affording us our peace. It's not that I ever doubted their existence, but actually seeing one... I doubt Julia and the men will even believe me.'

As he reached the wall and crossed the empty gateway at the end of the narrow path, he passed by the lumber mill, the closest building this side of town, and found old Horren sitting out front, trying to relight a pipe. Noticing his passage, the elder called out in that dry, aged voice.

"Markus! Out on a hunt?"

"An unsuccessful one. How are you doing, old-timer?" He returned, gesturing to the rabbits that still hung by his belt.

"That's a fine enough bounty, lad. You're not trying to compete with Sean and his brats are you?"

"Definitely not," Markus shook his head wryly. "I'd go bankrupt within a week with my rusty old skills" He chuckled. Sean Ruell and his sons were all hunters and butchers and the most successful at both in the whole town. Their family actually bought out the other two butcheries to monopolize the town's meat trade.

"Bah! 'Old' my wrinkled arse. Well, if you're not makin' a business, then that'll do just fine for your little one. The twit left just a while ago, so why don't you hurry on home."

Markus' smile became strained as he restrained a chuckle. Horren truly enjoyed the liberties afforded him as an elder and spoke his mind a little too often. The 'twit' he referred to, was Garrick Read, a tutor Markus had hired.

"He's not that bad once you get to know him". He said through a wry smile. "Just a bit… difficult to deal with."

"Pretentious is the word you're looking for, but I won't argue with you. Go on now." Old Horren made a shooing gesture as he resumed trying to light his pipe. Shaking his head, Markus continued on home, half lost in thought. 'Garrick was gone already?' That was good, his daughter would be waiting excitedly for his return and he had her all to himself.

Without noticing, he began to hum a merry tune, 'The Wanderer's Hearth', as he passed others on the stone road, exchanging greetings and a few words with most.

Markus' home was fairly close to the lumber mill and quite beautiful. A mixture of stonework and timber made its walls, and it stood at the top of a steep slope this side of the town. Not the tallest location, but it stood out, with the front yard having multiple levels like large steps down the hill, each made of stone and filled with soil in which a beautiful garden of small flowers bloomed. His wife loved that garden and seemed to pay it more attention than she did to him.

Walking the stone stairs to his front door, he let himself in to find his wife, Liane, sitting at the dining table to his right. She was as beautiful as the day he met her with straight black hair left loose as it fell past her waist and almost trailed the ground beneath her. She was reading the paper with what smelled like a cup of tea in her hand as he entered.

The newspaper wasn't a new invention, but where it was once an exclusive right of the rich, handmade with the magic of the Heavenly Spires, they were now cheap and commonplace. One of many changes from the recent boom in artificing.

Liane turned to face the door as he entered and her gaze met his. She was at the top of a very short list of people to sway his heart over the years, incredibly beautiful with the most charming of cheeky attitudes at times. And yet now, she stared at him with accusing eyes. He knew why, of course.

"What took you so long?" She asked.

"Horrible luck." He sighed. "I wanted to bring back something more impressive for tonight, something large enough to last a few days after I'm gone." Working stiff shoulders, he placed his burdens on the table as Liane spoke.

"What am I going to do with you?" She asked quietly, her expression softening some. "We have enough savings to feed us for years, you didn't have to hunt in the first place."

He took a few steps forward to embrace his now calmer wife by the waist as she stood.

"It's not the same."

As they spoke, Markus smiled, resting his forehead against Liane's.

"You're just too stubborn to admit you're a bad hunter." She jested.

"Ouch. That's my heart you know?" He chuckled.

Pecking his wife on the lips a few times, his grip tightened until they were interrupted by a third voice.

"Papaaa!"

Looking past his wife, Markus saw the apple of his eye, an adorable five-year-old girl running down the small hallway towards him, her arms stretched out wide. Releasing his grip on Liane's waist, he stepped to the side and kneeled, stretching out his arms to receive his daughter's embrace as she lunged at him.

Lifting her up as he stood, Markus smothered her small face with kisses, making childish noises as she giggled and struggled.

Liane grinned from the side as her hand shot into the struggle to tickle the little girl, relenting only when tears formed through the laughter, and Markus let the little girl down.

"Listen, I was reading the papers..." Liane started after a while.

"Yeah?"

"It says there's going to be an expedition into the Wildlands. They're going to cross the range, Markus." By the look in her eyes, he knew where this was going.

"You want me to go?" Markus sighed.

"Can't you? It's so much closer, and I'm sure it's safer. I know you care about your brothers and sisters, but this way you won't have to leave Eve and I for so long."

Liane had a truly heart-wrenching look in her eyes. She was pleading with him. But Markus breathed in, and replied slowly, his deep voice as smooth as he could manage.

"Liane. You know it isn't as simple as that. And the Wildlands are far more dangerous than any battlefield. Worse, those fools willing to risk the expedition are all merchants and prospectors. No one worth holding a blade wants to risk crossing the range without more men, a few companies at least."

Liane went quiet, her eyes drifting somewhat. It hurt Markus to see her suffer every time he left, but he had no choice. While they had a decent amount of wealth stored in the bank of Lenios, it wasn't enough for him. Not because he was a greedy man, far from it. But both he and Liane wanted a family of five with three adorable children. Markus, having been born to the family he was and receiving a personal education from young, wanted the same for all of his children. Ideally he wanted to support them in any venture they sought in life.

For this, he would need more savings than he had already, a lot more. Then there was the question of grandkids. In his ideal future, he would live long enough to spoil his grandkids rotten. That required even more savings.

'Besides, I might be a shoddy hunter, but I'm a damn good warrior', He bragged inwardly.

Having just remembered something rather crucial, Markus thought he'd make the most of it to lighten the mood. Sitting down at the dining table, Eve in his lap, he grinned as he spoke to his wife.

"Speaking of the range, can you guess what I saw today?"

Seeing his wide grin, Liane too calmed down and smiled, sitting across from him.

"A snake?"

That took him off guard. He had forgotten all about the snake, how did she—Oh.

Looking at the burdens he dumped on the table, he saw the dead snake along with the rabbits.

"Well, yes." He stuttered for a moment "But more than that. Liane, I saw a Runa. A real life Runa! It stared at me for seconds before running off."

Liane's mouth opened in shock. "Are you sure? It wasn't Fae?"

"I don't think so, it was a mix of creatures, like the legends tell, and it didn't speak in riddles, or speak at all. It had the body of a man, but with goat and deer features, and these… golden eyes."

"Man? Was he attractive?" She teased.

"No. Not even a little." He lied with a shake of his head, earning a chuckle.

"Daddy, what's a Ruhna?"

"A Runa, Eve. They're guardians. Benevolent creatures."

"Belev… unt?"

He smiled, "Close."

"To think there are actually Runa in the mountain range," Liane muttered before her eyes went wide.

"It didn't take offense at you hunting did it?"

Markus stilled for a moment to seriously consider the idea. It 'had' grimaced at him before it ran but… "I'm not sure. I don't remember any tales of Runa doing harm, so I think it's fine."

When he was a child, Markus loved hearing tales of the fantastical, and while the legends painted Fae as good, evil, and every shade in between, the Runa were always, undeniably 'good' beings. If legend is to be believed, they defended all life from true malevolence.

After answering a small flurry of questions about the suspected Runa, Markus handed the three rabbits and single green striker over to Liane, who got set to work skinning and preparing them to cook. She never shied away from blood or dirty jobs, something he truly loved about her.

Growing up, he had been surrounded by so many fragile nobles that he couldn't bear the thought of marrying any of them. He had chosen to leave that life for Liane, and had never once regretted it.

While she worked on what would become dinner, Markus valued his time with Eve, asking about what she'd been doing for fun lately, and what she had learned from Mr. Read, her tutor. Apparently his little star got along well with the smith's boy, and was learning simple addition from her tutor, a year earlier than Markus himself had learned it.

After a delicious dinner, when Eve had already gone to sleep, Markus and Liane lay in bed, speaking about tomorrow.

"How long will you be gone?" She asked.

"A few months. Half a year maybe. It depends how long the company is contracted for."

There was silence for a time.

"It feels pointless." She whispered in a soft voice. "The Holy Monarchs all died long ago, why are we still fighting each other?"

Markus hugged her against his chest as he sighed.

"That's just how it is Liane. There will always be war, but without the teachings of Deros, there is no reason for peace. No balance to our conflict."

Running a gentle hand through her hair, he closed his eyes, mumbling "That's just how it is" as the two drifted to sleep.