Meguitte's Familiar

Concordia, Eleven Hundred Years Before

Thaelen climbed the ladder to the guard point at the top of the gate, shading his eyes as he scanned the horizon, the wind dragging his hair and the beads that Sigrid had persuaded him to let her place in his beard rattling. The human blood slaves were making their way back towards the tents and stronghold for their midday meal, whilst the vampires continued their efforts building watch towers at high points of the topography.

The fortifications changed the familiar landscape. There were pits being dug to slow the approach of an armed force of horse riders, and further afield, whole sections of the forest were being felled to provide the wood for all the building work. They replanted as they felled, but it would take decades for the trees to grow back.

Thaelen mourned the changes, as necessary as they were, they further stripped away his childhood, his memories no longer matching what he saw. He had lost so much, he thought, he did not know if he