Just inside Ashen Falls’s northern gate, on the left hand side of Main Street there sits a peculiar little building.

Keen has spent a lot of time observing the shop from a dark alleyway across Main Street. A lot of time. The building is triangular in shape and is the only one of this shape in the whole of the city. It is also made from stone of an entirely different type to all the other buildings around it.

Above a door that seems to have been permanently closed, a sign swings in the light breeze. Two lengths of frayed rope hold the sign to a wooden beam that juts out of the building. One can almost imagine a corpse hanging from the ropes rather than a sign. The sign reads ‘The Wedge O’ Cheese’ and the ‘O’ has been painted orange and looks like a slice has been taken from it.

She is convinced that the sign was drawn by a ten year old and she would know because she was ten herself. She was also convinced that no one used the shop, not ever. Small piles of dead flies could just be made out behind the dust and grime covered windows.

This was not what had gained Keen’s attention though.

Keen watched as the citizens of Ashen Falls stepped off the path and into the street rather than walk right past the shop.

And as Keen watched, she wondered, and she thought, and she planned.

Of course, Keen wasn't her real name. She couldn't remember what her birth name was, her memories having been stolen in a haze of Dream-weed and alcohol. Gone as quickly as her childhood had been when she had been sold to a brothel at eight years old, by a mother who couldn't be arsed to have a child around her skirts.

Keen had made a name for herself in the brothel by being able to pick men that were good payers and less prone to violence. One day though she had been visited by a wealthy merchant who couldn't take no for an answer. As he had touched her she had wished him dead, and he had started choking. Coughing and spluttering, his face had turned blue and he had fallen to the ground. For a few minutes he had rolled and thrashed about until with a final gurgle he had lain still.

The owner of the brothel had no choice but to kick Keen out on the streets. Keen hadn't told them what had happened and they assumed the merchant had had a heart attack, but the death of a customer was bad news. No matter how hard the owner tried to cover up what happened someone would come looking for Keen and bloodshed would follow.

So Keen had found herself living on the streets of Ashen Falls. A place of whores and mages, the rich and poor, warriors and thieves.

Keen had found herself sleeping anywhere she could in the part of the city called ‘The Vile’, the meanest and nastiest part of Ashen Falls. She soon found that her ‘keenness’ came in handy here too. Avoiding the gangs of criminals sent out by Brash to build his criminal empire and the men who liked little girls.

Then suddenly things on the street changed.

The Black Empress had come to Ashen Falls and brought death to the hierarchy of the thieve’s guild. In less than twenty four hours she had taken over the guild and had begun to change some of the ways that the guild conducted business.

The Empress saw the value in even the youngest and smallest members of Ashen Falls society. She had set up secret safe houses in various areas of the city where children were welcomed, fed and given a place to sleep - even a warm bath was available if needed.

In return the children became The Black Empresses greatest asset, telling her all the latest gossip from the streets, no matter how great or small.

As long as it was honest information.

The Empress punished those who lied quickly and with a great deal of pain. She could find a myriad ways to kill a person so that lessons were learned.

“Dishonesty”, she would say, “Is like a blade and it can cut deep if used by someone who is an expert.”

One day, Keen had crept towards one of the safe houses and there she had partaken of the food and drink. Then for the first time that she could remember, she had slept in a proper bed. When she had woken up Keen had taken a bath and when she had dried herself had found her old rags gone. In their place were some new clothes. Thick, sensible leggings and a thick smock. A pair of strong leather boots sat beside the clothes.

As she had slept in the safe house for a second night, a priest came to her bed and used his magic to remove all the toxins from the drugs, killed all the parasites that lived in her hair and on her body, and had dulled the pain that she had built up about her life.

In the morning Keen had started her work for The Black Empress. Listening to conversations for kernels of truth. The grown up members of the guild took to calling the children ‘Truth Hunters’ and that was what Keen had become. A Truth Hunter.

One of many, yet totally alone.

Keen snapped out of her thoughts with a little shudder, anyone could have snuck up on her while she had been off in fairyland.

Luckily most people didn't see the little girl. In fact they saw her less than the triangular building she was watching.

What secrets do you hold, little shop? She thought.

It took Keen a long time to steel herself and decide to approach the shop. Her first step was tentative, as if the shop was already trying to push the girl off course. For every step forward it seemed that Keen took two to the side, but she was determined to find out the secrets within the little shop.

Whatever barrier that the shop had around it, and Keen was no expert, seemed to get more powerful the closer she approached.

Why hadn't the people walking past the shop felt the waves coming from the barrier? She could see them. The waves pulsed past her every time she took a step!

Everyone of the people she had observed had merely stepped away from the building. Even now the odd person walked blithely past. Avoiding both the shop and Keen herself. Their aversion seemed instinctual, habitual.

Why would a shop not want anyone to enter it?

Keen gave a little shudder and began to wish that she had brought a weapon with her. Even if it had just been a sharp rock.

She took another step forward towards the shop door, sweat was beginning to run down her forehead and she stopped to wipe it away. It seemed like an age ago since she had started the short journey to the shop.

Then suddenly she was there and her hand was reaching tentatively for the brass handle of the door.

Surely it would be locked? This building was trying so hard to keep everyone away it must be locked.

The handle turned easily in her hand.

Keen expected a wave of noxious fumes to expel itself through the now slightly open door. A fugue of decay and death that would creep into her nostrils and mouth, to make her gag.

Nothing.

No gas, no fugue, nothing. The air in the shop was as fresh as the air outside it, as if the door had never been closed at all.

“Hello!”

Keen shouted through the small gap. Her voice echoed back to her, sounding thin and reedy. Other than that there was only silence. Keen opened the door further and squeezed through the gap.

“Hello, is there anybody here?” Her voice quivered as she yelled again.

What was she thinking? If she was caught now it would mean a hanging for theft. The city guard wouldn't understand.

There was no reply to her second shout and Keen moved into the shop. Might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb. She gave a little squeal when the door closed behind her with a click.

Was that a noise? A moan, maybe?

“H…H…Hello, who’s there?”

Is that someone trying to talk? What ever it was, it was coming from beyond the next door.

She looked around at the shop space. On the shelves were all different types of cheese. There were white, yellow and orange cheeses. Some have coloured veins in of green, blue or purple. Each one was in perfect condition, even the ones with slices taken out. No dust or mold (except for the mold that should be there) covered any of the cheeses. Given the dirt and the dead flies she could see from outside she hadn't expected this.

Keen spied some coins on a counter beside which there were three small glass crocks of small pieces of cheese.

Samples? Who could afford to give away free food these days?

She silently walked over to the coins, taking a moment to Look on the floor she had passed. There were no boot prints, the floor was free of dust too. Turning back to look at the coins she counted three copper heads and a silver one. Picking one of the copper heads up she frowned as she flipped back and forth. Whoever the king was on the coin it wasn't the current one.

Then she saw the date on the coin. The coin was over a three thousand years old! Quickly she checked the other coins and they too were all over three thousand years old.

Kerching!

She put the coins into a small pocket she had inside her smock, a pocket she had sewn in herself to put little finds like this in. They would be worth a lot more than the face value to the right person. And Keen knew the right person.

There came a feeble knocking from the other side of the interior door and Keen made her way toward it. Putting her ear to the door she listened carefully for more noises. Every now and then she heard a faint scrabbling.

Perhaps it's a rat. Keen didn't really believe that. The shop was too clean inside for there to be rats.

Taking a deep breath, she turned the handle.

The door opened on a hallway with a set of stairs leading up and a door under the stairs that Keen presumed led to a set of stairs down to the basement. Windows on both ends of the hallway gave some light into the room. A small table near the base of the steps had a candle holder sat on it. There was no candle in the holder.

Who used candles in a city of magic?

Then Keen noticed the body lying at the bottom of the stairs, at least she thought it was a body until the head turned slowly to look at her. She opened her mouth to scream…

’Help…me…’

Keen closed her mouth.

Dead bodies don't talk, do they?

‘Help…’

The man was dressed in a long nightshirt, had brown hair mixed with a bit of grey and hazel eyes. His ears were rounded on top so he was human and he lay at an unnatural angle. Keen had seen this kind of damage on a roofer that had fallen off while repairing slates.

Broken back.

The roofer had died minutes later after gasping liking a fresh caught fish. There hadn't been time for anyone to get a priest even if the roofers partner could have afforded it. Keen wondered how this man was still alive.

‘What the fuck happened to you, mister?’

The man looked at Keen in horror, ‘Need…drink.’

‘Do I fucking look like Mercy or Charity?’

‘More…like…Death.’

Keen smiled sweetly, ‘If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead already.’

‘Upstairs…on left…sink and cup…please!’

Keen sighed, ‘Alright, alright! Just don't run away, now’

She edged past the man and began to make her way up the stairs. She expected the wood to creak as she ascended but they held her aloft in stoical silence, and soon she found herself at the landing. With a quick look at the still prostate man she went through the open door on the left.

It was a kitchen. 

Keen looked around at the contents of the kitchen. It was unlike any kitchen she had seen before.

At the far end hung a rope and pulley, beneath which were two closed doors. A wooden bar was slotted into place, locking the doors.

To the side of the doors there were half a dozen wooden barrels. A seventh barrel stood open next to a long oakenwood table. Moving towards the open barrel, Keen could see it contained a white liquid. She put her finger in the liquid and raised it to her mouth.

Cold milk.

Along the right hand wall from the kitchen entrance four racks had been attached. A dozen bags hung from hooks on the racks. Below the racks lay a long wooden trough which was being used to collect a liquid that was dripping slowly from the bags. The drips were so slow that Keen thought they were suspended in the air at first.

Against the opposite wall, an oven stood with its mouth open. Flames slowly danced within.

Even a street urchin like Keen could tell that this was where the man made cheese.

Behind the door there was a sink with a hand pumped spout fixed to it. Keen searched a cabinet above the sink and found some wooden beakers.

Wooden? Why wooden?

Ashen Falls was noted for its glass. Made with the ashes from the extinct volcano that the city butted against the glass ware was sold throughout Esterada.

She filled the beaker with water and headed out of the kitchen. She suddenly stopped and turned to look back into the room.

One, two, three…four walls in a triangular building? Something was definitely not right.

Making her way down the stairs to the still prone man, she knelt down beside him, lifted his head slightly and placed the beaker to his lips.

After a few sips the man nodded and Keen took the beaker away, “You going to tell me what's going on?”

The man looked as if he didn't understand what Keen was saying. “Your accent is strange girl. Are you visiting Illirium?”

“Illirium?”

In Keens opinion it was him with the funny accent, although she could make out what he was saying clearly enough.

“Yes, this town you are in is called Illirium.”

The man was looking as if Keen had she might be a little touched.

“No, mister. This city YOUR in is called Ashen Falls!”

The man frowned, “What year is it?”

“Four thousand nine hundred and ninety five years after the war ended.”

“What! That can't be. Oh gods Dauchter what did you do?”

“Dauchter who?”

“My partner. She was…is a mage. She specialised in space and time, or so she said. Told me that her magic would help preserve the cheese.”

“And?”

“I've been lying at the bottom of these stairs for over three and a half thousand years…shit…Oh,sorry lass, didn't mean to swear.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, mister? I'd be swearing like a priest that's just slammed his nutsack in a door!”

The man's eyes went wide and then he gave a little chuckle, “Are all children like you these days?”

“Only those of us that live on the streets.”

The man stopped chuckling, “You live on the streets?”

“Mostly. There are safe houses I can use if I need to, but I don't really like to rely on folk.”

“Safe houses? What's been happening in Esterada?”

“Too much to tell you now, I need to get you out of here.”

“No! We…That is, you, have to stop this.”

“Me!? I'm just a child, mister. This is a job for adults.”

“Oh? And who's going to believe us, eh?”

Keen though about that for a moment. The shop was still keeping people from seeing it. They would be locked up, never to see daylight again.

“Alright, what do you need me to do? What happened all those years ago?”

“Do you think you could help me so that I'm sitting up slightly? I'm sick of lying here.”

Keen tried to move the man but as soon as she did he winced and let out a cry of pain. He would have screamed if she hadn't hurriedly put her hand over his mouth. She gave it a few seconds before removing it.

“I think I'll stay here after all, as I've warmed the floor for so long. It occurred to me that I haven't told you my name. It's Cale, Cale Morgan.”

“I'm Keen.”

“Good to hear it!”

“No, my name is Keen.”

“Keen?”

“Yes. You got a problem with that Cale?”

“No, not at all.” Cale sighed, “Over three and a half thousand years ago, Dauchter and I had just discussed her idea for preserving the cheeses we made and sold for as long as possible, using her magic.”

“Right.”

Cale paused, “What do you know about magic, Keen?”

“Ashen Falls is rife with it. Priest magic is pretty expensive, and the Battle Mages have their headquarters here…”

“The Battle Mages moved?”

“Moved? What do you mean?”

The Battle Mages all used to be based at the fortresses that stand along The War Road. The fortresses still stand though, don't they?”

“Yes, the fortresses still stand. They are manned by the army these days though, and the Battle Mages are all based here. I don't know why though.”

Cale waved a hand in a shooing motion, “That's not important now. Magic is a very dangerous thing and if used too much it can kill you. That day I was worried that it would be too much for Dauchter to do. I mean, we were making money. Not a great amount but profit is profit. But Dauchter needed more and it was as I was coming down the stairs that she must of cast the spell. Suddenly a wind pushed at my back and I was falling, tumbling down the stairs one step at a time. Somewhere on the journey I broke my back and here I've lain ever since.”

“What about Dauchter?”

“I think the spell snapped her mind and she ran past me and into the basement. As far as I know she's still down there.”

“And you want me to get rid of her?”

“No, I want you to kill her!”

“Kill her!? I can't kill her! I'm a fucking child and she's a mad mage!”

“Well, someone has to. And I can't damn well do it from down here…unless she just happens to run past and I can grab one of her legs!”

“I can't fight a mage!”

“Keen, listen to me. Dauchter isn't a mage anymore, she's out of her mind. I know it will be difficult for you, but do this and I'll teach you all about cheeses and cheese making. It's not very glamorous but it will be honest coin. I'll even sign the shop over to you when you are old enough. You will be free of living on the streets. You will be respectable.”

Respectable…

“Just think about it, Keen.”

Keen wiped away a tear that threatened to run down her cheek.

A place of my own, a job that I didn't dare to dream about…that such a thing was within her grasp…

All she had to do was kill…

All…

Was she capable? Could she kill to find happiness? Could she survive out on the streets for years - if she lasted that long?

She sighed.

“Alright, I'll do it. I need a weapon though.”

“There are plenty of sharp knives back in the kitchen.”

“That reminds me, is Dauchter the reason the rooms are square but the building is triangular?”

“Yes. One of her spells to give us more room without having to move or pay more taxes. That spell worked out just fine though.”

“Alright. Let me go and see what knives I can find and I'll be right back.”

Keen ran back up the stairs and into the kitchen. Taking a quick look around she spotted several knives on the oakenwood table. She put one down her waistband, in the small of her back and then grabbed another in her hand.

Won't hurt to have a back up.

Both knives were simple in construction but the blades were sharp and the handles fit nicely in her hand. The blades were about three inches long which Keen thought would be enough for what she wanted.

She bounded down the stairs and past Cale. As she headed for the door that lead to the basement he called out, “Be careful down there, alright?”

Keen turned back to look at him, “I will.”

Then she pulled the door open and began to descend the stairs that led to the basement. As she took each step down a sense of foreboding crept upon her in wave after wave, but she found herself gritting her teeth and carrying on. This had to end even if it was just to free Cale from being stuck here forever.

Soon she found herself at the bottom. In front of her was another door. At some time it had been painted blue, but the paint was peeling and flaked.

Odd.

There was no lock on the door and Keen turned the worn and pitted handle. The door opened with a screech of rusty hinges, setting Keen’s teeth on edge.

Still odd.

Keen made herself as small a target as possible, the knife in her hand waved about as she trembled. She had expected an attack from Dauchter but nothing came out of the gloom in the room beyond.

She rubbed at her forehead. Great, how I'm I supposed to see? I wish I could see in the dark!

And she could.

What the fuck!!?

Keen raised her hands to her eyes. She wasn't sure what she was expecting but she just saw her hands as normal. Looking in to the room she could see a figure standing against the far wall.

Was that Dauchter?

The figure made no move to attack Keen and Keen moved into the room. The room was bare of any furnishings and the walls were made of granite. It looked more like a prison than the basement of a cheese maker.

One, two more steps into the room and Keen could see that the figure was manacled to the wall at the wrists.

Cautiously Keen moved closer and closer to the figure. It was clearly a woman with long hair and a dirty, torn dress on.

Is she dead?

Keen reached out to prod the woman's shoulder, then jerked her hand away as the woman raised her head, “Help me…”

I think I've been here before…

“He’s coming…”

“Who is?”

From behind her there came the sound of the basement door closing. Then a man's voice, “That would be me.”

Keen whirled around to see Cale Morgan standing with his back to the door, his head cocked to one side, “You can see?”

“No, I…”

“Don't lie to me, Keen. I know that you have magic in you. Not the magic of the Battle Mages though, oh no! The magic of the priesthood is in short supply these days compared to fifty thousand years ago.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“I know. However, you come at a most opportune time. My previous power source is dying rapidly and you will replace her. You should last much longer, after all you have the energy of youth on your side.”

Cale took a step away from the door and opened his arms, “Now why don't you put that knife down. There's nowhere to run to, so you may as well give up now. It won't hurt a bit.”

The smile he put on his face gave Keen little confidence in his last statement, “Your back was broken. How are you even standing?”

“An illusion. I needed to make sure you were alone and somewhere you couldn't escape from.”

“It was all a load of horse shit?”

“Your quite slow aren't you? Yes, it was all a story to get you intrigued and down here.”

“Bastard”

“I hope your not going to be that foul mouthed for the next five centuries. You'll get used to it, now come here!”

Cale lunged at Keen and she backed towards the still form of Dauchter. Cale lunged again and Keen swung the dagger at him. He laughed as he batted the weapon out of her hand.

Keen stepped back again and found herself up against Dauchter’s body. There was nowhere she could go.

Cale sneered, “She can't help you now, Keen. She's got no energy left.”

This gave Keen an idea, a kernel of hope. Even as Cale grabbed her by her top, Keen reached for Dauchter’s hand.

Cale had mentioned priest magic and even though she had no experience of it everyone in Ashen Falls knew how it worked.

That's the trouble with mages, too full of their own self importance.

Cale started to pull Keen away from Dauchter even as she willed strength out of herself and into the limp woman. In the merest of moments the woman was alert and moving. Pulling hard on the manacle fastening her right wrist the metal shattered. In the same movement her hand grabbed the hilt of the dagger tucked into the back of Keens waist band.

Before Cale could blink Dauchter plunged the blade into Cale’s left eye, punching through the eyeball and into the brain beyond. Yellow gunk sprayed onto Keens cheek and she gave a squeal of disgust.

Cale span around, letting go of Keen as he fell to the floor clutching his ragged eye socked. Dauchter wasn't finished with him though, tearing the other chain from the wall she advanced on the man and brought the iron fixing down on his head.

Again…

And again…

And again.

Keen retched as she looked at the ruin of the man’s head. Dauchter just kept swinging and swinging until eventually she collapsed to her knees and began sobbing.

Keen walked over to a wall and slid down with her back to it.

Well, that dream didn't last very long. Everything she had wanted pounded to a bloody mush on the ground.

She sighed and then began to cry.

Eventually, Dauchter rolled off the inert body of Cale and moved to sit by the still sobbing Keen.

She put an arm around the girl, “Shhh, it's alright Keen, you're safe now.”

Keen wiped her runny nose with the sleeve of her top, “How do you know my name?”

“When you gave me your magic power you also transferred your thoughts and dreams to me. You have great power but you must learn to use it.”

“I don't understand. I'm not a priest, how can I have this power?”

“Sometimes it isn't the religion that makes the priest, occasionally it's the other way around. There are changes coming to Esterada and you will need to be ready for those changes.”

“What changes?”

“That is not important right now. We have some time before the world is forged anew, I think you should stay here with me and I will teach you great things.”

“What I don't understand is how, if you have magic, you couldn't escape.”

“When he captured me he knocked me out and I only came too as he was about to put the manacles on me. I just had time to seal the shop when he bound me. The manacles must have become keyed to me and that let him use me to power the shop. When you touched me with your power you reset the manacles which allowed me to act.”

“But why?”

“That's a question for another time, Keen. It's enough to know that he won't be doing it anymore. For now I'll keep the wards running, but I will have to drop them eventually and we need to be ready.”

Dauchter nodded towards Cale’s body, “He made you an offer and I will keep that offer to you. Plus I will train you in magic, it will be hard work but I think you can do it. Will you stay?”

Keen thought about the offer, “On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“That we reopen the shop as soon as possible. If there is trouble coming to Ashen Falls I want to be a part of it, even if it's just to help those caught in the crossfire.”

Dauchter smiled down at the young girl, “Deal.”