One day later, inside the royal palace. Torin was in his assigned room this time, calmly waiting as he moved a small leather ball with telekenesis around for Echo to chase.
The bear's massive paws thudded against the stone floor as she bounded after it, her claws clicking with each turn, her ears twitching with the simple joy of the game.
Torin threw the ball to one corner, and Echo scrambled after it, her bulk somehow graceful as she skidded to a halt and batted it back toward him with her nose.
The queen had agreed to have Torin represent her in the duel, and left, claiming she needed to discuss important matters with her son, King Lucien.
In other words, she left the finer details of the duel to Gautier and the rest of her followers. Everything should have proceeded smoothly, and yet, despite Melisande's clear approval, Gautier didn't seem so keen on the idea of betting the future of Daggerfall on some "hulking Northman."
Of course, he used more polite terms to say that—something about needing to be sure, about testing Torin's capabilities before entrusting him with the fate of the kingdom. Torin didn't bother to argue and simply agreed to take the test.
If nothing else, it should prove interesting, and it certainly beat sparring with random knights to prepare for the duel.
Still, Torin couldn't help but wonder if testing him was indeed Gautier's intention, or Queen Melisande's.
Sure, the queen seemed to agree, but any half-decent ruler knew how to redirect resentment toward subordinates. Resentment toward a ruler could easily shift toward their nation, after all, and no one wanted that—not even said subordinates receiving the resentment.
Not that it really matters, Torin mused as he tossed the ball again, watching Echo chase it with undiminished enthusiasm. A test is a test. I'll pass it, and then we'll move on to the real fight.
He scratched Echo behind the ears as she trotted back, the ball held gently in her jaws.
"Just a little longer, girl," he said. "Then we can go find something interesting to do."
Sure enough, it didn't take long for someone to knock on Torin's door. A maid—young, nervous, her eyes darting to Echo before settling on Torin—escorted him through the winding corridors of the palace. They passed tapestries depicting Breton victories, suits of armor standing guard in silent rows, and windows that overlooked the sprawling city below.
Eventually, they arrived at a room on the other side of the palace, a space that seemed to have been designed for non-official meetings—comfortable chairs, a low table, and a map spread across its surface.
Waiting for him inside, after the maid showed him in and closed the door, were Count Gautier and, surprisingly enough, Madam Aveline—guardian of the forest and Daggerfall's court wizard.
She sat in one of the chairs, her hands folded in her lap, her wizened face unreadable. Gautier stood by the window, his arms crossed, his expression pensive.
Torin alternated his gaze between them and smiled.
"I gather you've decided how to test me, then?"
Madam Aveline nodded, her eyes sharp and assessing.
"You seem capable enough, and your reputation precedes you, boy." She paused, shaking her head slowly. "But strength alone isn't enough to defeat Garran Holt. That man has been fighting both men and beasts since before you were born." She gave Torin a meaningful look. "And he's never once lost."
Torin shrugged, the gesture casual.
"He's never fought me before."
Aveline let out a long, slow sigh, the sound carrying a hint of exasperation.
"Indeed, he has not. But you must still be tested." She rose from her chair and moved toward the table where a map of the region lay spread across its surface.
Her finger traced a line through the forest near the city, stopping at a familiar location. "Do you remember where we first met?"
Torin nodded, his gaze following her finger. "Aye. I'm certain I can make my way back there if need be."
Aveline nodded back, her expression satisfied.
"Good. Because that's where you need to go for your test."
Torin raised an eyebrow, a flicker of interest crossing his face.
"Seems simple enough." He paused. "And then what?"
Madam Aveline's expression grew more serious, her eyes distant as if recalling something ancient.
"A beast prowls the woods there. He has been there, protecting the forest, since before I became its guardian." She paused for a moment, her fingers tracing the edge of the map. "He's ancient. Magic in nature... perhaps even divine."
Torin couldn't help but frown, his brow furrowing.
"I spent a lot of time in that forest. I didn't see anything but simple animals."
Aveline shook her head slowly.
"He seems to understand that I'm guarding the forest and does not show himself when I'm around." She paused, her gaze meeting Torin's. "Even if I'm not present, he only appears to those who would hunt for sport or harm the green. You were hunting for sustenance—he had no reason to reveal himself to you."
Torin let out a low hum, processing her words.
"Alright." He crossed his arms. "And what do you want me to do about it, exactly?"
Aveline's gaze hardened, her voice carrying a weight of authority.
"I want you to defeat it. And bring back proof."
Torin's eyes narrowed at her choice of words.
To defeat it, he mused. Not kill or slay. Defeat.
He nodded slowly.
"Alright. And where will I find this beast? What does it even look like?"
Gautier finally spoke, his voice flat and measured, as if reciting a lesson.
"That, you will have to figure out yourself, Storm Caller." He crossed his arms. "As Lady Aveline said, you cannot expect to vanquish the Bannerless Knight with strength alone. You need to think. Adapt. Improvise."
Torin barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
And how will tracking down some beast prove that I can beat him? he wanted to ask. But he kept the thought to himself. Instead, he simply nodded.
"Very well." He uncrossed his arms. "What are the rules? What am I allowed? What am I not allowed?"
Gautier gestured dismissively, as if the question was beneath consideration.
"You are allowed to use any tool at your disposal." He paused, his gaze sharpening. "So long as you can retrieve proof of defeating the beast, then you have passed the test—regardless of the means you employ to achieve your mission."
Torin grinned, his eyes turning to Echo.
Looks like I'll be making good on my promise to do something interesting with her.
...
Soon enough, Torin was back in the village where they had first stayed upon arriving in Daggerfall. The familiar thatched roofs and winding dirt paths felt almost comforting after the labyrinthine streets of the capital. Bragi and the rest of the entourage had remained in the city, but Qasim and Echo had followed along.
The Redguard had come simply because he wanted to get away from the crowded city—he'd muttered something about needing to clear his head, to find stillness amid the chaos.
Echo, on the other hand, was here to help Torin with his task. Gautier had said he was allowed to use anything and everything at his disposal, after all.
As soon as they reached the center of the village, Qasim spoke out, his tone hesitant, almost reluctant. "Are you sure you don't need any help?"
Torin gave him a dismissive wave, not bothering to look back. "Very sure. You're many things, Qasim. A hunter isn't one of them."
Qasim smiled bitterly, his eyes dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting Torin's again.
"Fair enough." He let out a long sigh. "Then I wish you good luck."
Torin nodded at him, a hint of dry amusement in his voice. "Good luck meditating or preaching—or whatever you came here to do too."
Qasim just shook his head at those words, and disappeared into the village, his figure soon lost among the cottages and winding paths.
Torin watched him leave, then turned to Echo. The massive bear sat on her haunches, her dark eyes fixed on him with patient expectation.
"Guess it's just you and me now." He reached down and scratched behind her ears. "Like the old days."
Echo let out an enthusiastic growl in response, her tail thumping against the ground.
"Come on." Torin straightened and began to move toward the edge of the village, toward the treeline that marked the beginning of the forest. "Let's get moving."
He stepped onto the forest path, his boots crunching against the fallen leaves, and muttered under his breath. "Now how the hell am I going to find this so-called guardian beast of the forest?"
He scratched his head, his brow furrowing.
He'd hunted here for a good while before moving into the city, and not once had he encountered, nor spotted any traces or tracks of anything remotely similar to what Aveline had described.
Maybe I'm not supposed to find it, he mused. Maybe it's supposed to find me.
According to Aveline, the beast would appear to punish those who hunted wantonly or harmed the forest. In other words, the easiest way to draw it out was to start slaughtering animals and leaving them to rot on the ground—or better yet, start a few fires here and there, and the beast should come running to investigate.
Unfortunately, such acts were against Torin's nature. Even if they weren't, he still wouldn't do them. The one who gave him this task was the very same guardian of this forest. If anything, that was clearly a hint to not use malicious methods to draw out the guardian beast.
Perhaps they were testing his patience, or something along those lines.
Or maybe, Torin mused with a snort, this was one of those tests of character from the old fables—where I'd have to draw out the beast with my kindness.
A chuckle escaped his lips at the thought. Echo let out a low growl, her head tilting as she looked up at him, just as they walked into the treeline.
Torin shook his head. "It's nothing. Just thought of something silly." He frowned, his gaze sweeping the forest ahead. "We should be more concerned with how we're going to find our prey."
Echo let out another growl—more firm this time, almost insistent, as if reminding him that she was there, that she had senses he didn't.
Torin nodded, his hand resting briefly on her head. "Aye. For now, we can only do it the old-fashioned way." He paused, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "We track it. Even if we don't know what it even is."
...
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