The Unknown Foe, A Surprising Destination.

Ksenia Boletaan. A woman of Loraant.

A fine place plentiful of riches and goods. She was royalty, she thought to herself. She remembered when the Valerian told her not to bow her head to her, as a noble statement the knight gave, it was wrong in her eyes. She was no longer royalty. Her time has passed. She was no longer a Loraant Princess, heiress to the throne. She didn't really think she deserved to be. More so because she didn't want to be. And, after many years, she was here. At Salynthra. In the Elven town called Orzonfol. She resided here as a welcomed human. Which was uncommon but possible. Here she was, in her own small home made by the residents of the place that she rented in a way. She had to be here, as per the new ruling of the Empire when the elusive impersonator of Tyr Malin left the Empire crippled. But, still, it had a new ruler very quickly. The Witch sat down upon a finely crafted wooden seat. She held a bowl, waving her hand over it to have her attentive and halfway open eyes stare upon the herbs mixing within it. It formed a purple-ish color. With some streaks of black with the veins of the herbs. Which, she had then raised her vibrant soul-blue eyes. They directed to a man before her, seated. He was dressed in tattered clothes. Little tattoos. He was a farmer. One who was of another town, but resides here now with his family. Well, what was left was only him. His family was taken.

"Please ma'am. You have to do something." He pleaded.

She raised a brow at the statement. She found it to be ill taste. Telling her, someone who already does enough that she has to go up against some bandits who already threatened to kill someone they captured that she cared for if they ever saw her.

"I don't have to do anything for you, Farmer boy." She said, coldly to dismiss him.

"Besides, I already sent someone to take care of it. She'll be bringing your family back without a doubt. I suppose by when the sun rises." She explained, sparing him no gentleness.

Only a firm hand in her words. Which is usually how she spoke to people. She was fairly easy to irritate by such simple words or ways of speaking.

"How can one person match the will of a Witch? You have sorcery!" He exclaimed.

Which had only sparked her ire even further.

"Indeed. Would I need to retell you that in order to ensure you remember who you're raising your voice to?" She said, looking back down at her bowl of herbs with little care for being prodded for something she's already solving.

Plus, she knew the Revenant was more than expendable as a force. But, undying.

Then, she jumped a little as her door suddenly flung open and hit into the wall loudly making her drop the bowl of medicine onto the floor.

Ksenia's eyes stared down at the spilled mixture and her hand slowly clenched into a fist as she growled under her breath lightly.

"Witch!" An Elf called out from the door, truly startling them both with the abrupt entry.

"What?" She asked, hissing the word through her bare teeth.

"The human woman's returned. With our people." He informed, excitedly.

Ksenia's eyes opened and quickly directed to him. She suddenly planted her now opened hand to slap down onto the table as she quickly stood up and began walking at quite a fast pace to the door, shoving him out the way with the Farmer quickly following behind her.

It was then, the heiress Boletaan had quickly gone to the edge of the town between two homes. A few Elves amongst others standing behind her with a hopeful but also excited look about them. Aside from her, who crossed her arms and simply quickly examined who all was with her.

"Or tonight." The Witch muttered to herself.

It was just now arriving at dusk. With her eyes taking in the sight of the Revenant approaching, all disheveled with her hair with Niketas at her side holding the hand of another Elf Izador. Behind those three, a group of several Elves fell behind, walking in a line being led right into town.

"Flora!" The Farmer beside the Witch called out, quickly rushing to the other female Elf holding her son. They then embraced each other. With the family of the male who healed Davina just quickly going off with his wife and daughter elsewhere to their home. The Valerian then stopped in her tracks while being a small ways away. The Witch and the Revenant stared at each other. She didn't seem all too grateful, the undead warrior thought. But, then the Witch's averted and tore away to then gaze upon a far taller individual. A male of the Elves that quickly walked passed the Valerian to finally bring a smile to Ksenia's lips as the two quickly embraced as well, watching as the Elf had slightly spun her around in the hug as she had chuckled and been so very relieved. Davina found discomfort, quickly stepping away to simply walk passed her. She wouldn't intervene on the lovers reunion. She scoffed in amusement though. It seemed she was right. The Witch did have someone she cared about in the once imprisoned group. She'd be sure to give them their space until the time arrives when she certainly would need to take her payment. Which would be soon, of course.

At another place, during the same time as the arrival to Orzonfol.

"Sir, I promise we tried! But that bitch just came in and took them. We couldn't find them even after they fell into the lake!"

The bandit exclaimed hopelessly to the man upon a wagon. To whom had loosely held the reins to the horses as he was slightly hunched over, his head turned to the one explaining things to him. His head slightly tilted as his dark eye stared down at him with a blank expression. Then, he dropped the reins, soon to stand up. He put his dusty boot forward and dropped off the wagon, startling some of the others to move back. Aside from one, who was seated on a log, holding the back of his head with a pained expression. That was the leader. Then, the man from the wagon rose, being somewhat tall with an average man's stature about him as he was dressed in a black shirt buttoned at the breast with a collar drooping at the center. He had these black pants of dark cloth draping over his boots loosely as he was finished off with a navy blue long coat draping below his knees. He slowly stepped forward, having some of them move out the way without needing to say a word as he approached the leader. To whom looked up at him, seeing the individual stare down at him with little emotion in his eye. It was eye, since his left one was covered by a black eye patch strapped to his head, with a thin strap going under his cheekbone and ear while the other went across his forehead. He had snow white hair and black roots. The snow colored strands were fairly long, nothing touching the shoulders. He had it mostly parted over the eye patch as the ends just slightly curled. The frown he normally wore on his fair face showed his displeasure.

"Don't look at me like that." The leader, to whom had been named Bolnor, turned his gaze away from the man.

"Mostly because I can't tell if you're winking or blinking at me." Bolnor coldly added to his dry sense of humor.

The white haired man found no amusement to this. His brow, which was black, furrowed a bit from this.

"I thought I'd driven the stupidity out of you." He said, having a pleasant lowness to his voice that wasn't all too deep, but enough where anyone could tell it was an adult man.

Bolnor looked up at him, soon to then slowly stand up as his brows furrowed, being a few inches taller than him as he had stepped up to him, a little wobble to him.

"Watch your mouth, boy." He firmly demanded.

"Or what, you'll stumble and slur your words at me?" He retorted, glaring right back up at him with little fear it seemed, if any at all.

Bolnor's face began to fill with an ire that any other man in this camp feared. He stepped forward, pushing his index into the man's chest.

"If it were any other-" He was interrupted by the other.

"A brother isn't any other. Is it?" He asked, rhetorically.

Between these two men, you wouldn't have been able to tell they were related. They just looked so vastly different between appearances that it was never impossible to guess at first glance. However, upon hearing this, Bolnor looked down and up at his little brother and had shaken his head with a scoff, knowing full and well he could beat him into the ground. But, he merely turned his back on him and began to walk off, immediately shouting orders at the men to make way for him and to get hunting for food.

"Remember, Velstrom. I run this camp." Is all Bolnor left to say as he was heading right for his tent.

Then, he was stopped as his body jerked forward, a bolt of an arrow suddenly bursting through the front of his throat and gushing out blood as the Bandit Leader was then clutching onto his neck, feeling the tip of the bolt as his face changed to a horrified and agonized expression as his capability to breathe was taken from him. The whole camp was stunned by this as the leader quickly turned and stumbled back into a table in his tent, his eyes widened and bloodshot as he stared at the one who shot him. There, he saw him. His brother, staring down the sights of the crossbow with his dark orb for an eye. He slowly lowered the weapon. He simply dropped it at his feet. Bolnor began to gargle and choke on his blood as he held his neck as a pitiful means to save himself. He died there, slowly. Painfully, until his lungs filled with blood and his vision, though eyes were opened, clouded with a black slowly overtaking him. Then, there was silence. All of the bandits then directed their eyes to Velstrom. The Cold-Blood. He lowered the crossbow and then eyed one of the men. Rognir. The white haired man's lips then parted as he spoke lowly.

"I run this camp now."

Back at Orzonfol…

"Before you tell me, I want to know why."

The Valerian said.

Ksenia's brow furrowed a bit while the other raised and her head turned in a curious expression, if not more skeptical. She simply awaited her to speak again. Which she did.

"You're in Brytwood one day, the next? At this village. With Elves. One who seems awfully fond of your heart, too." She pointed out, leaning against the table with her gloved hands planted right onto a map.

It was a map covering nearly all the surface, being a rough picture of the entire Empire of the North and the Salynthrian Regime. Along with many other Kingdoms whose alliances were dotted with blue and red. Red for the Empire, blue for Salynthra. And, there were the Gray dots.

"That's not important whatsoever. I'm here because I was occupied here before Brytwood. I just needed to do some business there. Agreement. Now, about your beloved Sorcerer-" Ksenia turned the mockery on the Valerian.

"Beloved, he is not." She firmly replied, bitterly.

Oh, how the rivalry grew.

The Witch didn't even imply it the way it came off to the other woman. Yet, now she knew where to hit the next time she made a remark about her lover. She directed her index finger to tap onto the map.

"My payment to you. Is the Savencroner's last known location." Ksenia said.

Which, Davina's eyes trailed down to where she was pointing. Which was nowhere.

"Well, get on with it." She gestured for Lady Boletaan to hurry it up.

She puffed and finally drew her finger along the map.

"You'll be quite surprised, "Lady Joyous"." The Witch remarked sarcastically.

"You'll be going home to find your beloved sorcerer. What a coincidence." She said, her nail stopping as she suddenly was pointing down at a Kingdom of the Empire.

Her silver eyes widened a bit as her brows furrowed. That finger was directed right upon the hold that held the label of Valeria. The Revenant's home.

"That isn't good whatsoever."