The gray silk of twilight was around the Morvath Castle. The distant rattle of the hunting horns ran rings round the land, and died away as the hunting-party returned to the border of the woods. Zernal threw off the harness of leather armor on his shoulders and set it aside on the road, throwing his blood-streaked mantle on the grass. The mingling odor of blood and rustle of the trees and the faint smoke of a village in the distance.

He moved through the lofty trees toward a winding river beyond the castle with black eyes whose gleaming was cold and steel-like. He usually visited this place alone; no one was brave enough to come near this river at night, as they said other beings lingered in the deep gloom beneath its surface. But the lord of the castle was not one to fear shadows.

“My Lord…” The giant handmaidens by the riverbank were already busy, preparing his bath. They knelt with baskets of herbs, scattering pale petals that mingled with the soft vapour. But as Zernal raised one hand, they bowed and withdrew.

"Everyone, leave," he said, and his voice was even, but dictatorial. “I wish to be alone.”

Footsteps of the giantesses grew more distant, and the sound of the river and the wind rustling in the trees became the only sounds. The soft murmuring of the water was a complex lullaby that he repeated in his head.

Zernal went into the icy river and caused the water to run round his ankles, and even his waist. He bent and buried his head as far as he could both down and up, the water clinging to his set jaw, and the moonlight resting on his tan.

The cold of the water struggled with the warmth in his breast, slackening and deepening his breath. Everything was still--when there was a splash behind.

Zernal swung around and faced the direction whence the sound came, and a tiny, waving shadow was visible in the mist above the water. The air was still and a disturbing sound of breathing was heard.

A young woman stood there — human?

Her hair stuck to her face, and her large eyes gleamed with amazement and bewilderment. Her wet garments sparkled with an unnatural glow in the moonlight, marking her as a stranger to this land. She could see a faint smell of morning dew and wild flowers around her, and even the lord of the castle was silent a moment.

Zernal looked slack and a smile that could not be read came to his lips.

“Fair mortal…” His tone was low, calm, carrying a trace of curiosity. “By what strange fate hast thou wandered into mine own dominion?”

The woman shifted slightly, the ripples around her spreading outward. Zernal stepped closer through the water, his presence filling the space between them.

"Do not be afraid," he said, his voice a quiet command that somehow soothed. “Thou stirrest my curiosity as the moon stirreth the tide.”

He studied her with thoughtful intensity. “Thy garb is of a make unknown to mine eyes… and a scent clings to thee, rare as dawn upon the moor.” He paused, a quiet breath escaping him.

“By the heavens... thy countenance is fair beyond remembrance—it steals thought itself from my mind.”