Cover Art by Alison Hunt

Welcome back to Teaser Tuesday!  It’s been a while, so we’re going to step right into the most recent release, War of Nytefall: Lost.  Now, I’m not always going to pull from this one.  I think I’m going to take from across the board, so expect some Legends of Windemere, Ichabod Brooks, and more of War of Nytefall.  Bedlam gets Thursdays with it’s new tale, which begins this week!  So, let’s see how Clyde is doing:

“Thank you for talking to me,” Clyde says as he backs out of the metal cottage. Making his way to the dirt road, he is careful not to get hit by one of the many spinning weathervanes that border the walkway. “That wasn’t as informative as I’d hoped. In fact, I’m more baffled than ever. You find anything out here? The girl has only been gone for a year, which means there should be signs of her living in or around the house.”

The Dawn Fang scowls when the raven above his head ignores his question and continues banging a snail against the branch. Waving to the bird, he stops when he spots a covered wagon heading towards him. Not wanting to be seen, Clyde leaps into the trees and creates an illusion of thick leaves around his body. He watches a pair of dwarves stop their oxen at the mouth of the path, the merchants hurrying to unload the delivery as quickly as possible. The lidless crates are filled with pieces of metal and various tools, but the last container holds bottles of crimson liquid. With a deep sniff, the hiding Dawn Fang picks up the scent of blood. Annoyed that the gnomish couple may have lied to him about Lost being gone for a year, Clyde moves to drop to the ground and charge into the cottage. He stops when the dwarves are sent back to the wagon with the final crate, which they angrily shove back into the wagon. As soon as the merchants are gone, the Dawn Fang climbs out of the tree and darts across the road to hide behind a mossy boulder. He peeks out to watch the gnomes bring their supplies inside, their actions still being observed by the vigilant raven.

“Come over here, Luther, so we can talk,” Clyde whispers while picking up an acorn. He throws it at the bird and hits it in the head, the impact making it drop to the ground. “I barely put any strength behind that. Great, now the old woman is going to check on you. Really hope you don’t make a mess of things.”

“Who are you talking to?” Luther asks, coming up behind his friend. He drops to all fours to avoid a punch to the head, the wind from the strike tussling his red hair. “Didn’t realize you were so tense. I was checking the surrounding forests and hid in those hedges when the merchants came by. There’s no reason to be nervous here. Even if the couple notice us, I doubt they would cause any trouble. I did find evidence of them raising Lost since there is a treehouse in the back with crude drawings of her. At least I assume it’s her since I only know she’s a half-elf with silver hair and a bunny. According to a shredded journal, she liked sleeping outside once she turned four. How did you find out about these people anyway?”

“I hid a bunch of scrying gems around Xavier’s castle last time I was there,” the distracted vampire answers. He walks further away from the cottage and takes a seat against a tree, his tongue constantly rolling in his mouth. “What we found here doesn’t make any sense, but that’s what I used to think about myself. Lost is a vampire who was found as an infant and grew naturally like a mortal. They said she didn’t demonstrate any powers beyond strength, speed, and a charm effect until she was twelve. That’s when she began doing strange things like controlling others and talking to voices. I’m taking this with a lot of skepticism since she could have hidden the rest from them until she got stronger. Where could a vampire like this come from? If she was bitten then she’d have stayed an infant, which means . . . Do you think it’s possible that the southern equipment of a Dawn Fang works just as well as the heart and stomach?”

“You wield great power, but you can’t bring yourself to ask about having a baby,” the forest tracker states with an amused smirk. Creating a phantom double, he sends it up the tallest tree to stand guard and allows himself to relax. “This is a situation that I’ve wondered about and discussed at length with others. To be honest, I would not be surprised to learn that we can breed like mortals. My only question would be if such a situation would always lead to a child. It’s possible that being partially undead, only a handful of our kind can accomplish this while others can’t produce a viable baby. This would mean that someone like Lost would be rare. Otherwise, we would have run into more Dawn Fangs who were birthed instead of bitten or changed by blood.”

Picking a few blades of grass, Clyde casts them into the air and watches for where the breeze takes them. “How do we know we haven’t already run into them? These Dawn Fangs could be just as nervous about revealing themselves to us as I was about telling Xavier and the council. Something the gnomes mentioned is that Lost had plenty of friends who would visit whenever she was done with her studies. Many of them were older people with weapons who hung around without playing. I’m talking older than sixteen, which means they were born before I came back. That could just be her playing with her supposed mind control powers, but it strikes me as odd and there were younger ones in the group. I feel like the more I learn about this girl, the less sense it all makes.”

“So, armed men and women would come to the cottage?”

“Maybe she can do illusions too.”

“Actually, these friends would explain something I found.”

“Lead the way to more confusion.”

What could it be?  Find out in
War of Nytefall: Lost!