(Full Summary: Second in the Blessed Princess Series: A princess' expected delicacy. That was the gift that Andromeda's godmother gave to her on her name day. It caused her endless pain, made her weak, and it trapped her away from the world. Though that had never been so literal before. Her elder sister, determined to keep her safe from harm, has forbidden Andromeda from leaving her tower any longer.

However, her tower can't protect her when her kingdom comes under attack. Meanwhile, her parents have found a man to betroth her to, her sisters have begun keeping secrets to protect her, and Vasili Xenos has returned to begin his hunt again.

Following after him, from the barbaric south, is the warrior Nero. When he finds a magic tinderbox that allows him to summon a massive hound to do his bidding, his curiosity bids him to call forth the princess of the copper tower. Now bewitched by her beauty and ferocity, he wants to help protect her kingdom from this new threat while hunting down the murderer he has come to kill. Will they succeed, or will they wind up as Vasili Xenos's next victims?)

Chapter 1

Nero wouldn't call himself an expert tracker. Certainly, he had done it when he had needed to hunt his own food. He couldn't really consider himself a professional in the skill though. Especially when what he was tracking wasn't food at all, but a fellow human being.

Well, a monster in human skin.

The murderer that Nero was hunting was the bringer of death for more people than anyone knew. Even Nero, who knew the madman better than anyone else could - or reasonably should - didn't know the full body count he had accumulated.

Vasili Xenos. The scourge of the south. The loner who traveled between tribes and killed those who weren't careful for his own sick pleasures. Nero may not have ever witnessed his murders in person, but he had come upon the aftermath a few unfortunate times. The results were messy. As though a beast had gotten at them and ripped them apart. Flayed them. Then left the remains to rot in some place that he knew people would see it.

Vasili Xenos liked creating horror and fear. Most of his pleasure was derived from the act of torturing and killing his victims. But he also got a certain amount of wicked joy from knowing that people had found the end result of his treatment of them and had themselves been scarred by seeing it. He just liked bringing suffering to others.

Nero didn't consider himself a particularly judicial man. He didn't tend to chase down thieves or other murderers. He would leave that to the family of the victim. It wasn't his business and therefore not his right to intervene.

However, in the case of Vasili Xenos, it was out of his hands. His patron had ordered him to hunt down the murderer. Not just because he had killed people, but because he had made the mistake of killing children as well as adults. The war goddess may not be averse to killing, but she drew the line when younglings were involved.

When Vasili Xenos first crossed that line, she had appeared to Nero in a dream and ordered him to hunt down the mad dog and bring him to justice. Or deliver him to the death goddess's kingdom.

Which was why Nero was using his subpar tracking skills to hunt him down. He had been chasing him for months, ranging all over the south. Nero did believe that he had visited more tribes than anyone else even knew existed. He had almost caught up to him when they had begun crossing the Great Southern Plains. The two men had even come face to face.

But then Vasili Xenos, the slippery snake, had escaped. Nero had lost the trail for over a month. And it was only recently that he had finally heard new rumors.

Vasili Xenos had migrated up north.

Nero didn't understand why. Moreover, he didn't really care. He had tracked him all over the south, he had no problems following him further north into the sacred kingdom of Poseidonium. It was guarded by their godmother, daughter of the sea god, Oceane. In this kingdom, the war goddess had no power. Nero was using only his own skills to hunt the madman.

He had asked around when he arrived, and had been told that Vasili Xenos had been spotted in the Black Woods. It was a forest that bordered the large, wealthy city. The royal family had built their castle there. When Nero arrived, he had to stare in awe of it.

The southern tribes had no permanent homes. There was a semi-permanent tent city in the great plains, but mostly his people were nomadic. The homes that Nero saw were impressive enough. His people had no need, and therefore never learned to build, the complex houses he came upon.

The palace of Poseidonium was a monolithic structure that pierced high into the sky and made Nero near sick with nausea to look up at it. Decorated with pearls and seashells, made of bright limestone, and filled with glass windows, both clear and colorful.

All for one family, he had shaken his head in disbelief. Another thing the southern tribes did not have was royalty. Nero just didn't understand the concept of one person having so very much that everyone else was willing to follow him for that.

Consequently, he stared at the castle in awe. He admired the high towers, including the one that appeared to have a roof made of copper and glass. Then he had turned away and gone into the forest instead. At least there, amongst the trees, he understood what was going on.

Which was where he was now. Carefully moving amongst the trees. Looking for signs of a human living amongst them. He wouldn't put it past Vasili Xenos. He had heard rumors of a witch living amongst these woods, so no one would want to enter them any longer. It would therefore be the perfect place to hide for someone that was able to survive inside.

Not that Nero was discounting the idea of a witch. No, he took the threat of one very seriously. Witches were no better than Vasili Xenos, though at least what they were was in their nature. They didn't wear human skin and pretend they weren't monsters as he did.

There were forests down south. Though none quite like this. The trees were much larger, much taller, and the wood considerably darker. The canopy blocked out the light from the moon and cast deep shadows amongst the understory.

Nero was beginning to think that he should make some kind of camp for the night. Though it was not a prospect that he was particularly keen on. The last time he had come face to face with Vasili Xenos, it had been after he had fallen asleep. He would much rather not wake to a dagger attempting to peel off his face again.

Though he might not have much choice. The moon was waxing and was little more than a sliver in the sky. He had very little light left to see by. Besides the human predator, he also had to worry about the forest predators that might consider him a worthwhile meal.

Before he could make his choice, he came upon a lake in the middle of the trees. The scent of fresh water drew him to the bank and he stopped down to take a drink. Outside of the canopy, what little moonlight remained shined weakly down on his face.

Nero was a pure blood southerner, and the differences between his looks and that of the fairer haired people of the north was apparent. From his jet black hair to his onyx black eyes to the rough, tanned and weathered skin that was covered in a myriad of scars of all different ages. Proof of his life living in the south wherein you fought for everything you had. And, of course, those earned in the service of his divine patron.

He was a warrior. Battle hardened and tough. His well-toned, muscular body was nearly always covered in leather armor. He had multiple knives hidden about his person. In his boots, strapped to his thigh, at his waist, hidden in his tunic. Mostly those were just for emergency. His primary weapon, the only thing he treasured, was the blade at his hip.

It was a common appearing broadsword. The blade was made of metal that no longer gleamed in the sunlight and the hilt was covered in simple black leather. It was unimpressive and uninteresting. At first glance, it probably wasn't worth the iron it was forged from.

It was his most prized possession. The Tacenda. The sword given to him by the war goddess herself when she made him her avatar.

Nero splashed some of the lake water over his face, sticking his black hair to his face. He licked his lips as he pushed them back out again. Doing so highlighted the scars across his cheek and neck. From a couple of brushes with death that had been entirely too close.

He should probably make camp here. Just inside the tree-line to avoid tempting any predators that came for a drink. Then he could start again fresh in the-

Nero frowned as he looked across the water.

There was someone there. Dipping a large bucket into the lake. He was staring, confused, for a long moment because he felt like his eyes were betraying him. Though they weren't so very far from him, they appeared far too... large.

It wasn't Vasili Xenos. The shoulders weren't broad enough and he would never wear a cloak to cover his precious leather. Then who was in the woods so late at night?

A mixture of curiosity and suspicion had Nero moving when the figure began walking back into the Black Woods. Maybe they knew of Vasili Xenos. Maybe they themselves were dangerous. Or they could just be a hermit who was unusually tall.

As he was following them, Nero realized that each explanation was unlikely. The closer he crept to the figure, the more he realized it wasn't his eyes. The person was abnormally large. Like maybe they were part of the extinct giant species that had once roamed the south. Though, even if they were a giant, they would be a small one...

It wasn't until they reached the clearing that Nero realized what he was walking into.

The tree in the center of the clearing was enormous. Almost as big as the palace that had made him sick to see, and with the same dizzying effect as he looked up into the tall branches. Surrounding the tree was a garden filled with large black thorns and brambles. Just beyond the deadly garden, encircling the clearing like a line of guards, was a ring of dead men that looked as though they had been fused into massive boulders.

A witch.

Nero stared, wide eyed, at the tree, now detecting the scent of rot in the air as the wind changed direction and blew against his face. He touched the hilt of Tacenda. A nervous tick when he didn't feel safe or when he was stressed or annoyed or happy. Most times, really.

He stood there in the shadow of the stone men for a long while. Staring at the tree and the door that the witch had left partially open.

Witches didn't tend to journey down south very often. Mostly because the great plains offered very few places wherein they could hide. For the southern people, called barbarians by those in these supposedly more 'civilized' northern countries, killing witches was something that was just done. Nero knew stories of warring tribes brought together in an effort to kill a witch.

Should he kill her now then? Did the people of Poseidonium know where she was? If they did and she was a scourge on them, he would be doing them a favor to kill her. Not that he was particularly looking for their gratitude.

Then again, he could just leave. This was also not his responsibility. If the people of Poseidonium wanted her dead, they might have just killed her already. He could be sticking his nose into business that no one wanted him in.

Kill the witch, or leave her be?

"Are you just going to stand outside all night?"

The voice was feminine, but oddly deep coming from a throat so much larger than a typical human female's. Nero narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the call. It floated out of the still open door from the bright interior.

A witch beckoning him into her home? He was grabbing his sword tightly now.

"Ugh. Nasty little humans. I'm not going to eat you, boy, now get in here before you annoy me."

He supposed he could always kill her once he was inside.

He crept forward slowly past the stone men. The thorny brambles parted way to allow him to approach the tree. As he got in closer, the smell became stronger. He only got more suspicious because the witch wasn't attacking yet.

He stepped in past the large door frame, looking around quickly before focusing on the hovel. The room was dirty and filled with the scent of mold and mildew. There wasn't much inside besides some furniture that was far too big for the largest man he knew and a fireplace that was currently burning a fire that was far too large and had flames licking up over the top and staining the walls.

There was a spinning wheel in one corner, and a butcher's blade buried into the table. The bucket of water he had seen the witch fetch had been placed on the ground next to her washing basin. The witch herself, however, wasn't in sight.

He turned in place, startling her just as she was about to attempt to scare him from where she had hidden behind the door.

"Come near me witch, and you lose your head," he promised, hand on his sword.

"You're no fun," she grumbled, crossing her large arms. "But you're quick. I like that."

"Why have you called me in here?"

"Right to the point. I like that, too. You're quite a handsome soldier. Strong and skilled. Surely you must be part of the king's very own personal guard."

Nero's eyebrow rose. Flattery?

"What do you want from me, witch?"

"I should like to give you gold," she beamed, walking around to sit at her table. She did so primly, crossing her ankles as though attempting to appear to be a proper lady.

"Do you?" Nero asked, his voice flat and unaffected.

"Indeed. Soldiers like you like gold, don't they? So, shiny and... er, shiny. I'll be honest, I have no idea why you humans like gold so much. However, if it makes a strapping young lad like you happy, and I have no use for it, I would like to give it to you."

She reached past the butcher knife to a depression in the table that he couldn't see due to the table's larger height. When she brought her hand back, there was a large sac in it, about the size of his head, that clinked together when she sat it down on the edge, right in his view.

She saw his skeptical face and, smiling, she opened the sack. She dipped her hand inside and brought up a handful of large golden nuggets. Nothing that had been processed into coins yet, but they sparkled in a very familiar way.

Nero watched her pick them up then let them fall back in for a moment before turning his eyes back to her. The suspicion was greater now.

"Oh, do forgive my lack of manners," the witch said in a way that led Nero to believe she was trying to purr flirtatiously. "My name is Téa-Zosma. I've made my home here amongst the trees."

Was that a pun? Nero wasn't sure if she was joking or serious or both.

"This country is a delightful well of magic thanks to their patron, Oceane," Téa-Zosma continued when he remained silent. "As long as I keep my head down and don't draw too much attention to myself, I can be quite comfortable here."

Why was she telling him this?

"Of course, there is some trade off involved in that. I can't be seen, and I can't be careless. I've already dealt with that annoyance once, I'd rather not do it again. So, to that end, I've decided to make a deal with you, soldier."

Did all witches talk this much? Nero was rather confused.

Téa-Zosma looked at his face and seemed to become quite annoyed that he wasn't talking back. Or maybe that he didn't appear terrified. It could go either way, he figured. The annoyance was quickly covered up though as she tied the bag back closed.

"This gold is yours soldier. All I ask in return is for a small favor."

There it was. "Which is?"

"Nothing dangerous, I assure you," she said, leaning forward. She lifted her hand, showing him a single nugget between her fingers that she hadn't dropped back into the bag. She rolled it around in front of him, as though trying to tempt him with it. "It's not even that far of a trip. The object I want is small enough to fit into your pocket. See? Nothing onerous at all."

That didn't really answer his question.

She smiled as though that was clear on his face. "If you return to Poseidonium, and walk around behind the palace, you'll find Oceane's pond. On one end of the pond, you'll see a fountain where people leave offerings to the godmother. Two tiers, connected to a stone slide into the water. What I want will be right there."

"You would have me steal a goddess's offerings?"

"She's not a goddess," Téa-Zosma assured him. "She's merely the daughter of one. She gets so many gifts from her followers that she won't even miss what I want."

"Which is?"

She scowled, leaning back. "A tinderbox."

His eyebrow rose incredulously.

"Yes, a tinderbox," she said, answering the unspoken question. "It was stolen from me over a decade ago by a very wicked man whom I did not get the pleasure of punishing. He believed the object would bring him bad luck though and so he made an offering of it. I want you to retrieve it for me."

"Retrieve a tinderbox?"

"It has sentimental value," she said cutely.

He believed that about as much as he believed that she meant him no harm.

"From the bottom of a pond?"

"It's not so very deep. And look what you get in return."

Beaming, Téa-Zosma tossed the golden nugget in his direction. He automatically snatched it out of the air. The nugget had fit between her large fingers, it sat against his palm. The weight of it was certainly reminiscent of gold, though he didn't think he had ever held such a big piece before. He lifted it up, trying to determine if it were real.

"So skeptical. But that's what makes you such a good soldier, I'm sure. I give you my word that they're all pure gold. I harvested them myself just for this occasion. I can't go near the pond. Oceane's magic is too strong there. However, you can. She won't miss the little tinderbox, I assure you. Bring it to me, and all this wealth will be yours."

Nero lowered the golden nugget again and looked her over carefully.

While he didn't understand royalty or the northerner's obsession with near worshiping those who had it, even in the south a rich man was better off than a poor one. He wouldn't buy some large house or fancy clothes, but he could buy a strong stead and a sturdy tent. The things that a southerner needed to survive and be happy.

After he killed Vasili Xenos of course. He still had to fulfill his duty to his goddess.

In this foreign land though, where he had nothing but the sword at his hip, it wouldn't be a bad idea to have something to trade for goods and food. He could sleep outside and he would be happy, but if he didn't have to rely on his tracking skills to eat, he'd be happier.

"A tinderbox?" He repeated.

"That's it," she beamed. "You've got it."

"Can you promise me that you won't use this item to hurt anyone?"

The look that came over her face was a dangerous one. Nero's hand twitched on his sword but he resisted drawing it for the moment. She still wanted something from him, she wasn't going to kill him so quickly.

The angry look was banished almost as quickly as the annoyed one.

"The tinderbox can't be used to harm anyone. It's not a torture device. It's a box!"

"Your word, witch, or you can keep your gold."

She made a hissing, screeching sort of sound that grated on his ears. He wasn't particularly worried about it. Though she was probably going to try to kill him later.

Téa-Zosma sat back in her chair, glaring at him through glittering gold eyes. "Fine. I give you my word that I won't use the tinderbox to harm anyone."

"Nor anything that it creates."

"You go too far!" She slammed her hand down onto the table, upsetting the butcher's blade. It clanged against the wood, absurdly loud in the quiet of her anger.

"Good day then, witch."

He turned to leave-

"Stop."

He took another step before turning back slowly. She was making the wood groan with how hard she was gripping it in her hands.

He wasn't going to back down. If she wanted the tinderbox for sentimental reasons, just to create her fires - not that she really needed the help - he wouldn't feel guilty about fetching it. If there was something malevolent about the object that only she knew of, Nero wouldn't feel good about giving it to her. No matter how much gold she attempted to bribe him with.

"Very well," she growled, any sweetness that might have tinged her voice long gone. "I give you my word that I will not use the tinderbox, nor anything it creates, to bring harm. Now bring it to me before I pluck out your eyes and eat them."

"You can try," Nero said calmly as he turned back again.

He heard the wood splintering behind him as she shut the door. He was probably the first person to ever dare talk to the witch in that manner. Northerners were such cowards that they probably all rolled over onto their bellies for her. Southerners were a different breed.

Thinking about it, that was probably why they called them barbarians.

It was with that thought in his head that Nero began walking back through the Black Woods. He silently held a philosophical discussion with himself about barbarians versus civilized man. What 'barbarian' or 'civilized' even meant. How northerners appeared to him. How he appeared to northerners. He must appear like a barbarian to take risks they would not. Just as they appeared to be cowards because they were more cautious.

Perhaps neither of them were either thing.

It was a fun little mental exercise that kept his focus until he reached the edge of the forest. Then he banished it to the back of his mind as he began walking across a wide, empty field towards the large, shadowed palace. He could see a few lights burning, but mostly everyone was asleep.

In the darkness, in the dim, pale moonlight, he could still see the sheen of the copper topped tower even from way down here.

It wasn't just copper. It was copper, glass, and iron. From this close to the castle, he could see that it was all pieced together into an odd formation.

Why would they do such a thing? Northerners were so strange.

Then again, he thought to himself bringing back his previous internal discussion, they also would believe him to be strange. They must have their reasons.

He shrugged his shoulders and focused instead on moving around the palace walls. Following them behind the palace to where he could see the still pond. Like obsidian glass. The only thing that broke the surface was the gentle trickle of water from the fountain placed at the near end right on a path made just so people could reach it.

Nero walked around to the offering fountain and tilted his head curiously at it. The water was bubbling up from the first tier, falling down into the second, then sliding down the ramp into the pond. He had seen his fair share of offering sites, he had a general understanding of how they worked.

He walked away from the pond and began moving around in the grass under the trees. It only took him a couple of minutes to find everything he wanted. When he returned, his hands were busy pushing sticks together and tying them with a leather thong into a miniature raft.

From within his pocket, he pulled out the golden nugget that Téa-Zosma had given him. He placed it onto the miniature raft, then placed the raft into the top tier of the fountain.

"Greetings Godmother Oceane," he said politely. "I am called Nero Lafradio. I hail from the southern tribes. I have been sent by my patron, the goddess of war, to hunt a man called Vasili Xenos. I mean no harm to your people or your land. However, I have been requested to retrieve something from your pond that was reportedly stolen by its owner. Please forgive me for disturbing your sacred site. Take this gold as recompense for the trinket that I will take in turn."

As he watched, his little raft spun around in the fountain tier. Then it moved over towards the edge. It hovered right there for just a moment before falling over. The tiny ship flipped over once in the air before landing in the second tier, the gold undisturbed.

Nero watched as the offering floated down the slide and into the pond before sinking out of site. He took that to mean the godmother did not mind his intrusion and he bowed his head gratefully.

From working for his goddess, he had learned that it was always better to be polite to gods. Even if they were only children of gods.

With his respects paid, Nero walked away from the fountain. Not very far. He couldn't imagine that any of her offerings would have traveled a great distance. Not if how quickly the golden nugget had sank was any indication.

He removed his sword and set it down in the grass. The he sat down so he could untie his boots. He took off his leather armor, untied his tunic, and removed his belts. He stood up again barefoot, bare chested, and stretching his arms overhead in anticipation of a good swim.

It was unfortunate that it was the beginning of winter. Autumn's chill had long ago gripped this land and the pond would no doubt be icy from the night air. For all that he was tougher than the delicate northerners, when it came to the cold, he was far out of his element.

Nero lowered his arms again, the scars crisscrossing over his chest and arms moving with his skin as they were highlighted by the dim moonlight. He walked forward and began wading into the pond. He shivered and gritted his teeth against the cold. He was prepared for it to be filled with algae and muck, but it was clean and clear.

Well, if he were a godmother, he wouldn't want a dirty pond either. He began pondering whether the pond was magically cleaned or if the people here did it for her.

Then he ducked his head under the icy water and let it wash over him. It was even clear when he opened his eyes, leading him to think it was more the former than latter. Though the waxing moon provided little light, the water was still and clear as crystal.

That made swimming over to the front of the fountain easier. His head moved around but he couldn't see the bottom of the pond. Too far down, too dark.

He pushed up and let his head break the surface. He stayed up only long enough to draw in a deep breath before diving back under. He swam quickly to the bottom.

He was prepared for all sorts of objects to come to hand. The people no doubt had been making Oceane offerings for as long as the kingdom had stood here. He was honestly surprised there wasn't a whole island of them having taken up the pond.

However, when his hand reached the bottom and he began blindly feeling along the silt, he was a bit startled that it was just silt. No gifts. No debris. The bottom was as smooth as the rest the pond that he had walked through.

The surprise faded quickly though. He was too accustomed to his own goddess to be really shocked by anything else that the other divine beings did.

The feeling was replaced with curiosity. How exactly did Téa-Zosma expect him to find a gift if the godmother had already accepted it a decade ago? Furthermore, how long should he be looking for something that wasn't there? Underwater. In the dark. While invading the sacred space of a foreign divine being.

Once? Maybe twice. He didn't think it right to expect more than that. It wasn't like he really owed Téa-Zosma anything. He was doing this for the money so his stay in Poseidonium wouldn't be uncomfortable. But he could live in the woods, that was no problem.

Even as he was having the mental debate between one or two pass overs, his hand finally hit something that wasn't smooth silt. He drew back quickly before he realized the hard object wasn't something that could nibble on his fingers.

Curious, he reached out again and felt along the bottom. The object came into his hand easily. It was ovular, rather thin, and felt as though it were made of some kind of metal. He picked it up curiously but couldn't see it in the deeper darkness.

Putting his feet to the ground, he launched himself upwards towards the surface. His head broke the water and he gasped at the cold air hitting his face. He flicked back his soaking wet hair, shivering from the winter chill. He wiped the water from his eyes before lifting his prize out of the water.

Once again, his surprise faded rather quickly to see the metal tinderbox in his hands. The godmother had known what he wanted and had given it to him.

He put off examining it closely until he swam back to the pond's edge and climbed out. He sat down beside his clothes and sword and began turning the object over in his hands.

The tinderbox was made of a tarnished, thin bronze that was smooth but for the front. There was a crest that he didn't recognize emblazoned on the front made of more bronze, copper, and silver. It almost looked like a dog head with unusually large eyes. The tinderbox was also heavy in his hands. Far heavier than any other he had carried before.

Curiosity had him reaching for the lid. After so long, it was reluctant to separate from its mate. However, it slowly gave way to Nero's superior strength. He jerked the lid free and water that had been trapped inside splashed against his legs.

In his own tinderbox, he kept flint, matches, and, of course, tinder.

In this tinderbox, there were only two objects. A larger piece of flint, and a smaller strip of rough metal used to strike the flint against. There was no tinder in the tinderbox. No matches. No candles. Nero dropped the two objects into his hand but nothing else came out.

Humming curiously, he turned the rock and steel around. They seemed perfectly ordinary sort of items to his eye. The metal looked a bit expensive, but the flint appeared common. He couldn't imagine why a witch would want something like this.

Hm...

Maybe she did want it for sentimental value. Not that he had ever heard of a sentimental witch in his life, but he supposed that there were stranger things. Maybe it was her mother's. Did witches have mothers? He wasn't actually certain. He had never wondered where one came from. Stories said they were born from hatred and darkness in the hearts of jilted women or revenge fueled men, but that sounded a bit fanciful to his mind.

Then again, he had no idea. He had never asked a witch where she came from nor met someone who had seen it firsthand for themselves. Maybe it was true. Or maybe they cooked up their babes in those large cauldrons of theirs.

It was a fun thought that he batted around in his mind for a bit. Not really taking it anywhere, nor actually trying to figure out the mystery. He had a bad habit of getting lost in his musings. Most especially when he was tired, as he was now.

Did the witch really need this immediately? It was almost morning and he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep since yesterday night. He had been so close to Poseidonium that he had forgone sleep on the off chance of finding Vasili Xenos quickly.

That was obviously not happening. He should probably sleep.

Though his option was limited only to the Black Woods. He wasn't looking forward to that. He had lost his tent when he left the south along with most of his supplies. If he brought the witch the tinderbox, he would get gold to buy more. Plus, a room at an inn and a hot meal. That prospect was considerably more pleasing, though it did come with the need to return to the witch's tree.

Hm...

Why did everything need to be so difficult?

Sighing to himself, Nero packed the flint and metal back into the tinderbox. He closed it. Then paused to run his hand down the stylized dog head on the front. The head with the enormous eyes. Was it decorative, or did it have meaning to the original owner?

Shrugging, he set the box down onto the grass. Then he grabbed his boots and slipped them back over his feet. He would think about it later. He re-dressed first. Then tied his sword back onto his hip. Only once he was properly dressed, and shivering, did he pick up the tinderbox once again.

He was still turning it over as he walked away from the pond.

Inn? Woods? Work? Sleep?

He was weighing over the pros and cons of either option as he walked back around the palace. He was heading back to the Black Woods because, regardless of his choice, that was where he was going to end up.

The trees closed over him, bringing darkness that kept him from being able to see the tinderbox. Even the moonlight, dim as it already was, had begun to fade. Which meant that morning couldn't be far off. He had been up the whole night.

He was probably just going to sleep. He would walk at least to the lake hidden amongst the trees, then he would sleep there. Once he woke again, he would continue on to Téa-Zosma's. He would enjoy the inn more, but he was far too tired to do that much extra work. Besides, he liked sleeping outdoors, under the stars. Usually, anyway.

The moon had fully disappeared by the time he made it back to the lake. The area was nearly completely dark to his eyes. He sat down at the edge of the water and leaned against a near boulder, trying to narrow his eyes in hopes of seeing something.

It was late. It was probably actually really early. Though it was summer, the warmth of the day had fully faded. This time before sunrise was the coldest and, thanks to his dip in the pond, he was beginning to tremble vigorously.

Nero ignored it initially. The sun would be rising soon and he would likely sleep through most of the discomfort anyway.

As time passed, the morning chill only deepened. Nero was not a man made for the cold. The tremors kept him from being able to fall asleep and his wet hair was almost freezing on top of his head.

Now groggy and annoyed, his eyes opened again. Clearly, he was not going to fall asleep until he had warmed up some, so he might as well build a little fire. Nothing too big, just enough to heat his body enough that he could rest for a few hours.

He got up again and began moving around. There wasn't much plant life here, by the lake's edge, so he needed only dig a shallow pit to rest it in. There was plenty of dried driftwood further up along the upper edges of the water line that he collected for his little fire. He piled them into his pit and reached into the pouch on his belt to retrieve one of his bundles of tinder and his matches.

He paused then before lighting it. His eyes moved down to where he had set the tinderbox that the witch had requested of him. A tinderbox with no tinder inside of it.

Nero looked down at his matches. Then up to the tinderbox. Then down. Up.

Hm...

Well, never let it be said that he didn't satisfy his own curiosity.

That was probably what would be engraved on his gravestone.

He stowed his matches away, telling himself that he only had a limited number of them anyway. He wasn't being nosy by striking the flint and metal, he was being practical. Frugal. Sensible, even. If the witch had nothing to hide, then it shouldn't matter.

The witch definitely had something to hide. He had to know.

Nero set the tinder down and put away his matches. He reached over and lifted the tinderbox before sitting back on his bottom. He considered the odd casing again before prying open the lid. It separated easier this time.

The flint and metal were still damp from their time in the pond. He dried them carefully on his tunic so he could get a good spark from them. Then he spent another moment just turning them over in his hands before his eyes, trying to see anything special about them.

Well, only one way to find out.

He set the bundle of tinder before himself and leaned over it. He struck the flint against the metal.

Nothing. Not even a spark.

He touched the surface again then dried them off once more.

Nero put them out over the tinder and tightened his grip on the metal. He pulled back his arm and struck them again.

This time there were sparks.

Plenty of sparks. Far too many.

Nero gasped, dropping the flint and metal to the ground as a fountain of bright sparks erupted from the flint, spilling out into the air with a fluid sort of grace. They lit up his face and the surrounding area much brighter than the tiny fire he had anticipated building.

His eyes widened as the sparks traveled across his little pit, almost as though they were being carried on a non-existent wind. They swirled around, increasing in number. Growing larger. Not yet becoming a fire, remaining only brightly glittering sparks as though freshly struck from the metal.

Nero jumped to his feet, grabbing his sword. He was just a bit too accustomed to magic to trust anything that the sparks might do. They might set the forest ablaze. He could have just accidentally summoned dragon fire and the entire city was doomed because water alone couldn't smother dragon fire. He might have summoned a dragon himself, he had no way of knowing.

Which was why curiosity would be his death, he figured. Though, even at the prospect of it facing him head on now, he couldn't find himself regretting it. There was no greater curse, he figured, than that of unsatisfied curiosity.

It was with the knowledge that he might have just doomed himself that he faced the gently whirling sparks he had created.

They weren't just swirling indiscriminately, he realized. They were multiplying. Beginning to take a shape in the air.

The main sparks expanded, forming a long, lean, muscular torso. They expanded downwards into four legs ended with large paws. A tail formed at the back, just a bit longer than Nero's forearm and wider than three of his fingers together. More sparks extended forward, creating a neck. The front of which took shape into a canine face.

Then, starting from the heart of the creature, the sparks dimmed and darkened. Turning black. Spreading out and solidifying. Bright, energetic sparks gave way to sleek, iridescent black fur. The large paws materialized and stretched into the dirt, flashing bright white claws.

The blackness continued spreading. Up the neck. Through the face. As the sparks faded, Nero was able to make out the finer details of its features. The sharply pointed ears, the large, strong muzzle. The teeth remained hidden, but the black nose sniffed curiously at the air as it lost the bright spark.

The last things to change color were the whites of its enormous eyes. The irises didn't change at all. They remained bright orange, red, and yellow; sparking slightly in the dim light. The enormous hound blinked once, twice, before he focused on Nero.

The dog was twice as large as the biggest Nero had ever seen. Its head stood even with Nero's chest, its paws nearly as big as his own feet. The beast was all toned muscle and strength. Its skin was taut and firm around that lean body. Besides the iridescence of its fur, the only color were the fire colored irises in the eyes that looked Nero up and down calmly.

Nero drew his sword and pointed it at the beast.

And he knew it wasn't possible, but he could swear that the beast raised an eyebrow at the gesture.

"Are ye making an attempt to slay me?" Asked a deep, rumbling sort of voice. Almost like rocks being ground together.

It took Nero a long moment to realize that it was the hound that spoke.

He narrowed his eyes, unsure for a moment whether or not to trust his ears. Then again, he was barely trusting his eyes, he could give his ears the benefit of the doubt.

"What manner of creature are you?" He asked the dog suspiciously.

The beast lowered his head and front paw into what was, quite obviously, a bow. "This one is called by the moniker Eysteinn. Though, there art those who say simply Ey."

"I?"

"Aye."

"Huh..."

The hound came up out of his bow and faced Nero once again. He sat down onto his haunches almost primly. Nero would even say gentlemanly. Eloquent speech, bows, and now sitting as though he were about to take his tea. The dog had better manners than Nero did.

"Are you the witch's hound?" Nero asked cautiously.

"At this time, this one would be thine hound."

Nero frowned. "My hound?"

"Thou didst summon this."

"I did...st?"

"Thou hast struck the flint to the steel. Thou art the one who didst summon this one, thou art therefore this one's master. What would thou have this one do?"

Nero's blade lowered slightly. Still cautious. It could be a ploy to get him to let down his guard so the dog could take his neck and bring his head to the witch.

"I don't understand," Nero said, figuring that to be the safest recourse at the moment.

"Where didst thou find this one's tinderbox?" Ey asked him calmly.

Nero leaned his sword against his shoulder. "I fished it from the pond. Oceane's Pond. Someone sank it there as an offering to the godmother. To get rid of you, I would assume."

The words didn't appear to bother the hound. "Thou would therefore have received no instruction. Allow this one to explain, master."

He actually waited for Nero to nod. As though he required permission.

Ey spoke calmly and slowly. As though he had all the time in the world and had no sense of urgency in him at all.

"This one is called Eysteinn. This was one was created many centuries ago in a city that hast since been lost to the desert in a far continent that possesses no name that this one can offer. A witch of great power first lit the spark and bound it to that tinderbox. Since the initial creation, many restrictions and spells hast been cast upon it and the powers that this one can access are limited."

"Powers?" Nero repeated, bending down to pick up the dropped flint and... steel, he said?

"This one was created to be a guard dog to the witch. This one was created to kill, stalk, hunt, and retrieve on command. Powerful priests bound this one's ability to cause harm first. This one can no longer kill nor meaningfully cause pain. If thou wouldst request it of me, thou would first need to remove the bindings preventing it."

Nero raised an eyebrow as he turned the case around. It certainly didn't look particularly magical. Then again, he had little experience with such things.

"Then, what can you do?"

"This one can currently stalk and retrieve. Thou can command this one to learn information, to retrieve an object or person - so long as doing so does not force this one to cause harm - or to track. Thou must know the location, or approximate location, in order for this one to retrieve something. If thou know it not, thou can ask this one to track it instead."

The beast couldn't harm. That would explain why the witch had no problems vowing not to use the tinderbox to hurt others. She already knew that she could not do so. Even if the forced vow made her angry at him. "And what is the limit of your power? Distance wise?"

"This one can travel wherever thou does demand, master. As long as thou know where it is thou art sending this one."

"Anywhere?"

"As long as thou knows it, this is correct."

"And how long does it take you to make this trek?"

"That information is dependent upon the distance this one is asked to travel. However, this one can run to this one's continent of origin and return within a single night."

"That fast?" Nero looked surprised. He had no idea where the beast could be from, but if it was an entirely different land, separated from all known kingdoms, then it had to be moving quickly. Even if the hound could just cross to the southern tribes and back in a single night...

No wonder the witch wanted him. She said herself that she could live here peacefully so long as no one noticed her. Even if most of the dog's powers and abilities were bound now in ancient magics, if he could just fetch whatever she wanted, he would be valuable.

If he could do it, of course.

"There is one other limitation, master," Ey said, pulling up Nero's gaze from the tinderbox.

"Which is?"

"The flint and steel can be struck only once per cycle of the moon and sun. This was the second binding placed upon this one."

"You can only be summoned once a day?"

"This is correct. The sorcerers of the hidden city on this one's continent of origin felt that the ability to use this one's power whenever the desire did strike was too much power to be given. Therefore, the flint and steel will make sparks only once per day."

Nero frowned, looking to the still dark horizon. "Does the changing of the day come with the sunrise?"

"With the sun's setting."

Then he had already used his strike for the day.

Again, if what the beast was saying held true.

"How can I trust what you say?"

"This one does not possess the ability to tell an untruth."

"You speak in riddles. You're giving me a headache."

"This one will speak less."

That was not what Nero meant. It hardly mattered.

Hm...

Nero looked at the tinderbox again while Ey waited for his order. He could understand why the witch would want the hound's power. He also didn't feel like he should give it to her. He was under no obligation to do so.

This was all assuming, of course, that the hound could do what it claimed. Cross the ocean in a single night? Track anything? Retrieve anything? It sounded like mad claims. Nero had heard, of course, that powerful witches could do incredible things. The power of his own patron goddess was a sight to behold in and of itself.

This dog, however...

Nero looked at him curiously. "I don't believe in your abilities."

"This one apologizes."

"It hardly seems worthy of apology."

"This one has sewn doubt. The fault therefore lies with this one."

Nero wasn't sure that logic followed. However, "You can prove yourself to me though."

"Command this one as thou pleases. If it is within this one's power to do so, it will be done."

Nero pointed behind the hound, into the trees. "Far inside, in the north-west direction, you will find a massive tree belonging to a witch called Téa-Zosma."

"This one knows it. This one belonged to Téa-Zosma when last summoned."

Nero nodded, unsurprised. "On her kitchen table, there's a bag of gold that she promised me in return for you. Fetch the gold and bring it to me and I will not have any need to return you. Which I would prefer as it is not in my nature to be helpful to witches."

Nero expected further questions. He got none.

The dog got to his feet and gave Nero another bow. Then he stood, turned, and bounded off into the forest. He moved no faster than any typical hound.

Nero shrugged and sat back down. He frowned at his little fire pit. In all the excitement of dealing with the hound, he had somehow forgotten that he was cold. With the creature gone, the memory returned and reminded him rudely that he still hadn't lit that fire.

Curious, Nero attempted to strike the flint against the steel again. Just as the dog assured him, no sparks burst forth. He was given no choice but to start the fire with his matches.

He was just encouraging the tinder to catch the driftwood afire when he heard paws smacking against the ground. A moment later, it was joined by the hard clunks of rocks bouncing.

Nero frowned, lifting his head. He couldn't see the dog's black body with the light of the fire now in his gaze. However, he could see, even through the light, the brightness of the hound's eyes as it raced back towards his 'master'.

The very same bag of gold Téa-Zosma had bribed him with was clenched tight in his jaw.

Nero's eyes widened in surprise. The dog hadn't been gone more than a moment. The fire wasn't even built yet.

Ey came around the little fire pit and gently set the bag of gold at Nero's feet. The man stared at the gift in amazement.

"You really did it," he whispered.

"This one wishes that he has served you well, master. Thou may strike again when next the sun sets in the sky."

Nero looked away from the gold just in time to see Ey burst apart. The sparks that had created him flew away in a magnificent little explosion. They burned quickly and faded away. They left only a dark stain on Nero's eye as proof that Ey had ever existed.

Nero blinked a few times, waiting for his eyes to adjust back to the darkness. He looked down at the sack of gold and lifted it. The weight of it surprised him. He had never held so much gold in his life before and it was an odd thing.

He opened it. Saw the shine. Closed it. Opened it again. Touched the gold. Closed it.

What was he even supposed to do with this much gold?

Nero let out a long breath of awe as he stared at the closed bag in his lap. He peeked inside once more before tightening the string again. He should probably leave the forest now. The last place he wanted to be when the witch realized he had used her hound to steal her gold would be in the Black Woods that she called her home.

Hastily, Nero buried and suffocated his fire. He took the gold sac in his hands, marveled at its weight once more, before stowing the tinderbox in his belt.

He moved quickly away from the Black Woods and back towards the city. He was going to have to give some of the gold to his goddess as a gift, but he now had more than enough to fund his continued hunt for Vasili Xenos.

And, he thought with a grin, a hound that could track that might just help him do it.