Mounted up on his barebacked horse, Djurle slid to a stop at the river road.. 

“Hey, you, did the guardsman come this way?”

“Yes, he did. He went along the riverbank east out of the camp. It looked like he was going to follow it for a while.”

“Thank you stranger, you’re a blessing.” Djurle turned in the direction that the refugee had pointed and began to make his way through the crowds. Having the horse made it easy to see over the heads of the crowd, but some of the tents were tall enough to keep him from seeing too far up the river. Every so often, Djurle would ask one of the strangers where Zebulon had gone. Each one would have the same answer as the first.

Eventually he was close enough to the edge of the camp to see up the riverbank. Lots of refugees lined it closeby, but about a mile upstream the glint of the sun reflecting off of bronze caught his eye.

“Clear the way! Coming through!”

As Djurle escaped from the bulk of the camp, he pushed Crispus into a full sprint.

“C’mon Crispus, C’mon!”

Djurle raced down the riverbank trail. The breakneck pace made him very aware of how uncomfortable riding bareback was. He was, however, thankful for the reins. He focussed entirely on the rhythm of the hooves stomping against the ground as he slowly made his way up the river.

As he came closer, the form of a man came into view. He was armored in bronze scale and riding on a strawberry roan horse. Also on the back of the horse was the form of a familiar woman, blond haired and wearing worn riding gear.

The woman appeared to see Djurle approach. Not wanting to cause any unnecessary unrest, he slowed himself and began waving a hand to the pair.

“Hey! Are you the one they call Zebulon?”

The armored rider came to a stop and turned to face him, his face was mostly covered by the helm but Djurle could still see that he was a dark skinned man with a pointed goatee.

“I am Lieutenant Zebulon, yes, I'm also occupied so I'd appreciate it if you made this quick.”

His velvety voice was firm with authority. The lumanite woman seemed to recognize Djurle from previously, but was quiet.

Djurle quickly considered his options. He decided that helping would lead to the best result.

“My name is Djurle. I'm a native of Talvash. I’ve been looking for missing ukitu all across Stogh for the past few years. My search led me here, and rumor has it that you're looking into similar missing person cases. I'd like to offer my skills to you and your team.”

Zebulon sat in his saddle and began to ponder the request. The lumanite woman spoke up.

“If you've been looking for people, why didn’t you say something to me yesterday!? ”

“A tired man is a useless man. Now that I'm set up and at least partially rested, I'm ready to do everything in my power to get everyone home safe.”

Zebulon motioned For Djurle to follow. “I'll at least listen to what you have to offer. Come with me, we can talk while we ride.”

Djurle rode up alongside the now moving Zebulon.

“Tell me… Earl, was it?”

“Djurle.”

“Djurle. Under whose authority do you conduct your investigations?” 

“I don’t work for anyone. Some people I was close with went missing years ago. I needed to find out why.”

“Tenacious.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“I can understand wanting to find closure, but doing so without the proper authority-”

“You and I both know that not many care about The Touched. Ironically, they’re nicer in the alliance of Stogh than they are here in Thruf, but they still don’t do much in the way of helping where it counts in the day to day. Few humans would, and the ukitu who did also went missing days after they started.”

“This opens another question however. If they vanished so quickly, how is it that you’ve not done the same?”

“Believe me, they tried to get me too.”

“Who?”

“Poachers from Krundíl. They kidnap anyone from among The Touched they can get their hands on and ship them to be… Well, I don’t know how to describe it other than empowered and brainwashed.”

Zebulon gave a quizzical look. “Empowered?”

The lumanite woman, without missing a beat. “Brainwashed!?”

“Yeah. Whatever they do to them in Krundíl draws out the power of their bloodline. So for you miss, being a lumanite, You’d gain the ability to control light like your ancestor Minderia. However, if they aren’t recruited willingly, they end up having their memories and identities erased. They become shells of their former selves.”

“What!?”

“Perhaps you should be more tactful with your words, Djurle.”

“There’s no point in sugar coating this Zebulon. It may be harsh, but it’s the truth and it’ll be a hot day at the Prosvar glacier if I don’t tell you exactly what you’re getting yourself into. Besides, they have to get to Krundíl with their captures first, and that’s not likely to happen any time soon if your daughter was just taken recently. Especially now, with me around.”

“Oh? And how exactly is it that you being around changes things?”

Djurle pointed at a rock ahead, and with a flick of his wrist the rock shattered with a loud crack. The noise Spooked Zebulon’s horse, as well as both of its riders. Crispus however didn’t so much as flinch.

“That’s why.”

Fear briefly filled Zebulon’s face before being quickly squashed into stoicism by what Djurle assumed was years of training.

“Praise The Maker!” shouted the lumanite.

“I don't believe it! He sent one of the Ancestors in the flesh to save my daughter! I thought they were only stories!”

“I'm as real as Kruug Thunder-fist.”

“He's REAL!?”

“I take it you’re the so-called magician the refugees were talking about?”

“Yeah, Lieutenant, that's me. I figured someone important would come looking for me if I made a ruckus, so I did what I had to. I’ll tell you if it worked in about a week.”

Zebulon’s face hardened even more as he stared down the stone skinned ukitu. Without turning away from him, Zebulon asked, “Karliah, how much further along to the fishing spot?”

With renewed vigor in her voice, she replied “It’s not much further. There’s a bend in the river just up ahead.”

“Let’s see if we’re indeed after the same poachers.”

“I’ll bet you a gold piece we are.”

“I don’t gamble.”

Djurle and Zebulon made their way over to where Karliah had indicated. There was nobody around, however the muddy banks were covered in footprints. Zebulon helped Karliah the lumanite down from his strawberry roan, Djurle stepped off of Crispus and began to take his shoes off.

“Karliah. What a pretty name.”

“Focus Djurle, this isn’t a sight-seeing trip. If you really can help, I need you on task.”

“If? Have some faith guardsman. The Spirit of the Earth has his methods.”

While he was un-shoeing himself, Djurle used the rock that was stuck to his horse's lead to guide Crispus off into some nearby tall grass. He set his shoes aside and stood with his eyes closed. The rhythmic steps of Crispus tickled his now bare heels. He experienced all the sensations that indicated life vibrating through the ground. The worms dug through the earth, ants in nearby nests bustled about, water gently flowed through the silt on the bottom of the riverbed. In the distance, a pair of rabbits-

“What are you doing?”

Djurle opened his eyes to see Zebulon standing in front of him, one hand stroked his pointed beard as he stared.

“Listening. The dust talks to those who have ears to hear. Or, in my case, feet.” he wiggled his toes and chuckled as Zebulon raised an eyebrow.

“It was very helpful when I was a foreman. I could feel weaknesses in tunnels well before they became problems, and it made finding materials easy. Plus, I never needed a torch to know what was around me.”

Karliah asked, “Does it ever get overwhelming?”

“That’s why I wear shoes. As much as I enjoy feeling the world through my heels, sometimes you need to separate yourself to stay sane.”

“Let’s get to work. Show us where you found the piece of your daughter’s dress, if you would please.”

“Wait, you’ve been here already?”

“Yes, I came looking for Tylee two days ago. The day before that was the last time I saw her.”

“Zebulon, would you do me a favor and stay here with me as she goes?”

“I can’t investigate the scene of the crime if I’m here with you, Djurle”

“With the amount of mud here, we could end up ruining the poacher’s tracks. I want to disturb it as little as possible.”

“You make it sound like I don’t want the same thing.”

“I’m not trying to say that, I’m trying to make both of our jobs easier.”

“How?”

“I’ll show you, if you’ll trust me.”

Lieutenant Zebulon sighed. “You are asking for a lot of trust from me in a very short amount of time. But, I’ll listen.” He nodded over to The lumanite and she reluctantly began to head towards the river.

Djurle closed his eyes again and focused his attention towards the rhythm of her steps, paying careful attention to how the ground reacted to her movement.

Thud

Thud

Thud

Thud

Squish

Squish

Squish

“Stop, please.”

Karliah stopped.

He could feel Zebulon shifting next to him. “What are y-”

“Shh.”

Djurle tapped his foot against the ground and the riverbed became clear to him. He raised his hand towards the mud to help him focus.

So those three are hers… that must mean this group…

The mud began to shift around. One trail of the footsteps began to undo itself. Djurle was careful to reconstruct any damaged footprints from the other groups to match the suspected paths that the poachers took. When he lost his place, he would tap his foot again to direct his focus. There was a lot of educated guessing, but he’d done this enough times to figure a solid approximation.

Once he was satisfied that he’d removed the traces of Karliah’s two day old path, he began to harden the mud from below. Constricting the softness to force the water out towards the river itself. To him, it was as easy as wringing out a washcloth. The hard part was directing it. He could feel the water trickle out of the ground into pools and small streams. A strong mildew smell wafted into Djurle's nostrils. The mud began to solidify at the surface, and when it did, Karliah gasped, taking a step back as she did.

“Please stay still. I don’t want you to get stuck in an uncomfortable position.”

Djurle could feel Zebulon shift his weight again as he squeezed the water out of the mud.

Once Djurle was satisfied with how dry the ground felt, he opened his eyes to see a bone dry riverbank with a number of clearly defined indentions embedded in the dirt. He looked over to Zebulon who stood completely in awe.

Never gets old.

Djurle motioned to him and began walking towards the lumanite.

“Now, what’s this about a piece of dress?”