Lucian sat upon Stormveil's throne, reports spread out before him, his temples throbbing. The castle had not come through the battle unscathed.
From the very first day of taking Stormveil, he had set workers to repairs—but progress was painfully slow.
The residential quarters and small structures were the simplest to deal with. Most had been smashed when Gideon's agents stirred riots, some caught in the crossfire of battle. None were essential—only houses, cottages, the dwellings of common folk. Those could be torn down and rebuilt easily enough. In fact, Lucian intended to raise larger lodgings, more like inns, that could house many. When the day came that vast numbers of Tarnished flocked to Stormveil—as he knew they would—ordinary homes would never suffice.
The worst damage, though, came from when Godrick had fused his body to that of Godwyn the Golden. Godwyn's colossal corpse had long since melded with the stone beneath Stormveil and the roots of the Erdtree. When that body stirred, vast foundations had crumbled; entire districts of the castle collapsed into the depths below.
Repairing that ruin would be near impossible. One would have to rebuild from the abyss upward—an immense undertaking, far beyond the manpower Stormveil could muster now. Fortunately, the devastated quarter was an abandoned forbidden ground, never vital to the castle's life. For now, Lucian ordered it sealed off. When the Tarnished came in greater number, laborers would not be lacking.
At least Stormveil had architects of its own. He had no wish to puzzle out stonework himself—his grasp of construction was nonexistent.
Just then, the piercing cry of a stormhawk split the air. The great bird alighted on the throne's arm, and Lucian untied the letter bound to its leg.
It was news from Hakkan. They had found Boc.
Lucian exhaled. With help, the search had been swift. Alone, he might have wandered half an age before stumbling across the little demi-human again. Rising from the throne, he stretched; his joints crackled like snapping wood.
"As I thought… I'm not fit for all this management. Best leave such things to those trained for it."
He made ready to ride and meet Boc, to fulfill the promise he had once made.
—
Across Limgrave, Hakkan galloped over open fields, his white wolf loping at his side. He had even reclaimed his beast after leaving Stormveil, returning to the place of his capture.
Truth be told, his capture had been no accident. No common patrol could have seized him. Their prey had been Tarnished, not a Kaiden Sellsword like him.
It had happened only because of Roderika and her guards. He had crossed paths with them once, when they were already on the verge of being overwhelmed by Godrick's men. He had meant only to harry the soldiers, then slip away once the Tarnished broke free.
But one of them had flung a pouch of Soporific powder into the wind. The cloud had drifted into Hakkan's face, dropping him insensate. Thus he, too, had been dragged into Stormveil.
Still, it had been a blessing in disguise. There, he had crossed paths with Lucian again, and had been entrusted with command of the Kaiden mercenaries.
Now nearly a hundred of them rode behind him. More had already been dispatched to other tasks.
Lucian's orders had been simple; gather the scattered bands of Kaiden horsemen across Limgrave.
Few in the Lands Between were so skilled at mounted war. With their swiftness, half of Lucian's designs became possible. And though the Kaiden rode in many separate companies, they all kept some contact with one another. To Hakkan, himself Kaiden-born, reaching them had been easy.
Would they obey? That was another matter. Lucian had feared they might resent being rallied under one man. So he had sent Elyssa along with Hakkan. With her at his side, the work had gone far smoother.
Those without steeds had been sent to Stormveil, to serve as its new guards. Those with mounts followed Hakkan, spreading word across Limgrave that Stormveil welcomed Tarnished, guiding the lost and wandering to its gates.
And as they roamed, they patrolled Lucian's new domain—and searched for Boc.
"Captain," one rider called, galloping back from the vanguard. "We think we've found the one. Come speak with him."
Hakkan spurred forward, and soon saw the sight; several mounted mercenaries had encircled a small, trembling figure.
"Enough! Back off—you'll frighten him to death!" Hakkan barked.
The riders drew away, leaving only a hunched demi-human in their midst.
The little one wore a feathered cap, and garments stitched with care. Not the rags of a common cave-dweller. Hakkan's eyes narrowed. This must be him.
"Don't be afraid," he said, dismounting and softening his tone. "We mean no harm. Your name is Boc, isn't it?"
The demi-human flinched, then nodded, though his whole body shook.
Since Lucian had saved him, Boc had wandered alone, seeking the cave of his kin. But he had been cast out after they turned him to a tree—he did not even remember the true way back. He wandered by instinct, yet always lost his path.
He survived on mushrooms plucked from roots and stones. The others of his kind would grub for worms, but Boc could never bring himself to it.
And now—now he had stumbled into a ring of horsemen. He had thought his end had come. Until this man spoke the name of his savior.
"Lucian… he still remembers me?" Boc whispered. "Even sent men to find me?"
Hakkan grinned. "More than that. He said you had a pact, to recover something precious. He means to keep his word."
At once, Hakkan scrawled their position on a note, tied it to a stormhawk, and sent it skyward.
Then he turned to Boc. "It grows late. Come share a meal at our camp."
The little demi-human shook his head quickly. "Thank you… but no. Mushrooms are enough for me."
Hakkan laughed aloud. "What's a meal? Lucian's first in the Lands Between was one I gave him. You'll not refuse me." He reached down, seized Boc's hand, and swung him up onto his saddle.
Boc blinked, startled. "Truly? That happened? Remarkable…" He bowed his head shyly. "Then… thank you."
Together they turned toward the fires of the camp. But then—
A scream ripped across the night.
High, raw, and full of terror.
The Kaiden horses stamped nervously, and silence fell upon the riders.
Something was wrong.