When the mastiff had wandered into the tavern and sniffed at her, Yina had smiled and scratched behind the ears. This was obviously a sign to the dog that it was welcome to sit at her side all day.

When the night fell and Stella suggested retiring to their room early the hound nuzzled and followed. Despite Yinas best efforts and an attempt to speak druidic with the animal it wouldn’t leave. 

“Looks like we have a stop over.” Yina smiled and put down a bowl of water.

In one smooth motion the mastiff shaped into a humanoid holding the bowl like a mug and drinking from it. He was massive, taking up all of the space at once. Light tan fur with a stripe or two of white across the face. 

Lines of pink battle scars crisscrossed his face and thick neck.

During the shift both Yina and Stella readied themselves for a fight. But when they saw Tarl of the Douén they relaxed and smiled broadly.

“Evening. Make this yourself?” he tilted the bowl and slurped at the water.

“Always do.” Yina chuckled.

“Never mind that. Damn it's good to see yer Tarl.” Stella punched him in the ribs hard enough to get a grunt out of the hound. 

“And you Stella.” His smile wasn’t wholly joyful grabbing at his side. A small earth spirit sat on his shoulder, trying to look menacing.

“We been waiting days for yer, where yer been?” Stella sipped at the ale in her hand.

“It's a big place, but once I got your smell halfling, it was easy.” Tarl and Stella laughed out loudly.

“Now yer here what is going on with that wolf of yours. Got himself captured and these lizards are putting a beating on him.” Stella gritted her teeth and looked as though she were staring at a fight ripe for the plucking.

Tarl sighed and sat heavily on the bed, it strained under his weight. He placed the bowl in his pack that Yina had given him and pulled two twisted wooden rings from a side pocket. As he held them out on the palm of his hand offering them to the two halflings a winged creature swooped down and grabbed them. 

The Douén snapped his hand out but the small wyvern was too quick. Stella let out a loud laugh as the Wyvern settled next to her and dropped the wooden rings on the bed. 

“Tarl, meet Walnut.” The Wyvern runt snorted and grinned its teeth.

There was an intelligence to the draconic beast that both halflings had noticed very quickly.

“A pleasure.” Tarl gave a tip of the head and bared his own canine fangs in a similar grin, as if it was some sort of tradition among Mastiffs and Wyverns.

A silence took the room. 

“So the rings?” Tarl continued.

Stella kept one and passed the other to Yina.

“They are enchanted. Means we can find you when we need to.”

“We? Are there more of you on the island?” Yina placed the ring on her finger and immediately felt the attuning of it. 

“All of us. We stay in beast form, it's harder for folks to see through the deception that way.” Tarl was now chewing on jerky, he offered some to Walnut who devoured it instantly.

“If yer all here what in the Drydakka happened to Galwyn. Idiot got himself chained up.” Stella was still bewildered by the scenario.

Tarl looked about the room, confirming to himself there was no one watching or listening. He gestured for the halflings to gather in. 

“It was intentional. The boy Tarik, it was his idea. Galwyn went for it.” the Douén saw Stella turning red with anger. 

“If it's tha last thing I do, I’m gonna kill that lad.'' The Cleric held her holy symbol tightly, nearly breaking the skin of her palm. 

“Tarl.” Yina said softly.

“Yes?”

“Who are the Douén working with other than Tarik. Despite Stellas subtle reaction he seems to be involved in everything we are.”

“Yeah, he gets around. It's a strange one, loads of locals know of him. He's kinda disliked but his sponsor, a Calvarian called Garen Rook is a legend around here. Even Galwyn knew of them.”

“So Garen what? Sent Tarik to help? How did they make contact?”

“Through Galwyn. The message came through that we needed to come here and get a hold of Karolus' brother, Connor.”

“Yer walked straight into a trap yer muppets. Children got more survival instincts than yer lot.” Stella was pacing about  throwing her hands in the air with every new point revealed by the mastiff. 

“Please catch us up to the part Galwyn volunteers himself into captivity and torture.” Yina put her tiny hand on Tarls’ massive one.

Tarl let out a long sigh before taking a deep breath. It was clear that Galwyns' situation did not sit well with him, nor the rest of the Douén.

“Galwyn is the strongest of us. We needed, or at that point I'd say wanted someone on the inside.”

“Inside of what? You ain’t getting friendly with those that have got the boy by being beaten to death.” Stella put in. 

“Where they are holding him, holds those that the Calvarians fear. The Suraquintarus Lake is a landmark to visitors but to those that know it holds envoys, criminals against Calvaria, individuals that know such secrets that to kill them would be to lose them.” Tarl sat feeding Walnut more jerky.

“Ok we don’t need a sales pitch pup.” 

Yina gave Stella a stern look of leave this to me. 

“So what was the plan, get Galwyn close to them?”

“Correct.”

“How when he’s confined?”

“That's where Tarik came in. Tarik is responsible for questioning Galwyn and when he's doing so it lets Galwyn reach out to the others confined there.”

Yina stepped forwards to intercept Stella who was brandishing her hammer and stalking straight for Tarl. Who had definitely noticed and was up off the bed standing defensively.

“Absolute morons!” Stella smashed the hammer into the bed, the heavy thud and crack in the wood ruined it.

“Stella! Calm down will you” Yina had her hands up in the air.

Walnut was at Stella’s side like a loyal hunting hound waiting for the command to attack.

“Calm down! They are the Douén for crying out loud! Protectors of those that wander lost, what crap. Those two boys are going through fire and darkness, facing these grass snakes with nothing more than sibling love.” She smashed the table with a heavy swing.

“But not t’worry! The great Douén are here offering themselves up as prisoners!”

“And what are you doing? Do you know where the brothers are?” asked Tarl with a little more edge than intended.

Stella stopped the swing of the hammer and threw it across the room, it crashed into the single cupboard and splinters flew. 

“What are we doing? Naff all, sitting in taverns reaching out to muts and their magics.” Stella slumped into a chair, that she had not smashed, and held her forehead in her hands. 

Yina gave Tarl a look to relax.

“What can we do?” she asked as the anger slowly fell away from her. Walnut was at her side and put its scaled head in her lap, making low growling purrs. 

Yina’s shoulders dropped. She couldn’t disagree with her cleric friend. She had reached out to Karolus several times over the last couple of days, and Tarik. But neither responded. She was pleasantly surprised that Tarl had answered. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean the question to come out that way.” Tarl settled his presence in the room. 

Stella stroked Walnut and let it sooth her anger. 

“Don’t worry about it pup. I needed the relief and none of the folk downstairs are my type.”

Tarl tilted his head before the pair shared a smile and then reacted to the thud in the room. Yina had collapsed and was in the fetal position.

“Stella…” she strained the whisper out.

“Now?” the cleric asked

“Now..” moaned Yina.

“Well crap, grab the holly pup.” 

Yina was on the bed, the not destroyed one, and was restless. Moving around pushing the blanket all about her. She was soaked through with sweat. Stella had a large bowl of the fresh druid water previously summoned by Yina. 

There was another bowl with warm water and the holly crushed into it. 

“She follows Iodhadh?” Tarl asked with respect in his tone.

“That she does.”

“I can help with this.”

“You gonna go get yourself captured?”

Tarl looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

“You said it yourself, The Douén protect those that wander lost.”

“I know the stories.” Stella said, dabbing the cool water on her friend's forehead. 

Despite the story comment Tarl moved on. 

“She should have a piece of Yew on her, half burnt and the other half clean.” he said as he gently searched her.

A moment later he found it. The druidic token that gave a link to the Iodhadh that Yina embraced. 

Holding it tightly Tarl began to repeat an incantation, in a language that Stella had never heard. It was different from the tongue of the druids or even the beasts that sometimes Yina conversed with.

Tarl closed his eyes and held his closed fist over Yina, crushing the piece of Yew and letting it sprinkle over the druid. 

The incantation was complete and Tarl’s arm dropped to his side. To Stella he now looked in a meditative state. 

“Great, that's all I need. Walnut I swear if you fall asleep I’m taking yer scales.” 

Tarl stood in a forest, the sky was beyond sight, a void of nothingness beyond the treetops. He had been younger the last time he walked this forest, back then it was Galwyn showing him how to travel between places.

Yina was known to the Douén but he had never met her or needed to. Those of the Iodhadh are few, when they die and return it is a Douén that catches the moment and guides them back.

It is always a different Douén, when it is needed they are pulled at. It is a feeling within their spirit that tells them to seek out the soul and guide it back. 

But when the Recalling happened, there was no Douén to guide. It was an intense process, with dangers on a path walked alone. 

Tarl got the feeling Stella didn’t know what was entailed, especially seeing how prone she was to protect. 

He summoned his thick bark like spirit armour that covered his body like that of plate. In his paw hands he held a great hammer. It was nearly six feet long and made of twisted roots and stone. 

Ahead the trees were still. No groaning of bark, no wind blowing the leaves. Statue still trees made up the forest. The memories held in the sap of the trees were dead memories, ones that would forever be forgotten. 

Butterflies made of light and mist fluttered about everywhere. These were the memories Tarl could guide if he so chose. But he needed to find Yinas. It would show itself as he walked, he had bound himself to it by breaking the piece of Yew. 

But the Recalling was not a single or even small group of memories. It was a lifetime's worth of thoughts, emotions, experiences, even death. 

As he walked the butterflies would bump into him, a flick of green light as they did before they flew on. 

When the trees thickened he knew he was getting closer. The carrier of Yinas Recalling was so massive that it pushed the trees together. 

The clump in front of him was so tight that he would have to force himself past. Firelight was beyond, fire of such heat and presence that in the material realm this entire forest would be a blaze. 

Tarl closed the bark helm about his head, looking through the slit he used his strength both physical and spirit to part the trees enough to let him through. 

Into the glade he stepped and saw a scene of blood and death, wolves stalking, lizard like beasts tearing at Yinas flesh as she lay dead on the wet mud. 

It saddened his heart to witness her death but he needed it to finish before he could step in.

The source of the firelight came from a small burning sphere seemingly suspended above the last passing of Yina.

As the halfling expired and her soul light seeped from her the burning sphere lashed out flaming whips at Tarl who swung his hammer at them. Some he parried and others cracked against his armour. 

The magic was primordial, knocking him back with each strike. 

More fire, more light, more heat and then a bird-like cry that would have pierced a mortal's ear drums and destroyed their mind. 

Tarl was brought to his knees by it and held his forearm out in front in an attempt to shield himself from the force.

The Douén growled and stood, taking hard steps forwards. Yina’s soul light was enveloped by the sphere. Like staring at the centre of candle light he focused on it.

“Yina! Do not let it consume you! I Tarl of the Douén am your Dìonadair!” Tarl repeated this with each step towards the burning sphere.

The spirit armour Tarl had covered himself in was starting to char and break away.

Yina sat in the sphere of light, the cry of the firebird about her. She didn’t have form, but still felt the prickle of heat on skin she didn’t yet have. She shook away the memory of sharp teeth ripping and tearing. 

Focusing on the now, letting the memories pour into her, it was like being at the bottom of a waterfall and not being able to take a breath.

She couldn’t lash out, couldn’t call forth any of the druidic magic she knew. She was weak, like a new born. She was alone and wanted it to end. 

A voice, edged with an ancient power called to her through the heat and fire. 

“Tarl!” she called back.

Both Douén and Druid spirits went blind for a moment. The heat rushed over and away from the pair. 

Tarl’s spirit armour was turned to ash all about his feet. In one hand he held his great hammer, resting it across his shoulder. In his other arm he held a halfling babe. A clump of curly hair and bright hazel eyes. A small birthmark on her shoulder in the shape of tree branches, or feathers, it was hard to tell.  

In the glade it was twilight, a form, that of a great bird ablaze approached. The fire was contained close to their being.

“Douén, not wandered here before. Memory lost, why should it find?” The firebird spoke with cracked words and a flicker of malice behind the intent of them.

Tarl knew his part in this Recalling, this rebirth of the halfling. The firebird was the Phoenix, birthed in the nest of the Yew tree. All he had to do was stand before it until the babe was grown. 

A single beat of its fiery wings and life appeared at the tree line. Beasts of the forest are far larger than they should be. Stalking into the glade, their eyes on Tarl and the halfling babe. 

Teeth, claws, great hammer, talons, stingers, carapace, poison, fists and elemental power slammed into one another for seemed like hours. Tarl stood against the tidal wave of forest might. 

With each beast defeated the Phoenix watched nearby bursting with heat and grew in size. The mastiff Douén slammed his hammer left and bit right. He tasted warm blood, some of it his, some of it his enemies. 

Watching from the grassy nest Tarl had placed her down in, Yina gurgled and made baby noises in frustration. It would be months before she could walk and talk. 

She repeated the words crawling first in her mind over and over. 

A small grass snake made its way past Tarl and bit out at the halfling. Yina instinctively raised her hands and clapped. Two stones rose up from the ground and slammed into the snake crushing its tiny head. 

The firebird took to flight and a circle of fire hung over the glade like a halo. Tarl ignored it and wrestled an earth elemental creature to the ground and punched its head until it became ruble. He stood panting, stretching out his fingers. 

“Tarl! I help.” the toddler that was now Yina smiled. 

“Great, how old did you say you were when you died?” he grunted and growled lashing out at the dire bear now in the glade. 

“Many many.” she shouted loudly with delight. Her hands waved and the healing of the land transferred from her to Tarl.

Invigorated by the healing, the Douén rushed into the pack of wolves, over the body of the bear pulling his hammer from its ruined skull.

Hours, followed by days, into months and years rolled by. Tarl fought with everything he had, Yina grew in age and power. Her druidism swirled about her, all the colours of the land, air and sea flowed.

Phoenix fire spread through the forest burning the trees to nothing but ash, replaced with dead charred Yew trees. As time passed the fires ran amok.

Time was both suspended and flowing, Tarl did not age, nor did he need sleep. His exhaustion was from the many battles he was having. Yina however was assailed by memories of every day of her multiple lives. 

Centuries passed, Tarl had faltered on hundreds of occasions but every time was brought back to his fighting self by Yina’s druidism. 

In between fighting was a life of running through forests and over the hills. Making a home and having it attacked and torn down. Beasts and elemental creatures chased them wherever they went. Those that Yina had witnessed died again and Tarl held her as tears were shed.

The phoenix beckoned the halfling Druid.

“It is time.” Yina stated to her Douén guardian hobbling forwards on a walking stick. 

Yina was now very old, looking physically weakened by age. Tarl took a knee next to her.

“Are you sure?” he puffed and panted. 

“Do as you’re told, my heart.” Yina patted his shoulder and started towards the phoenix that was now resting on a thick Yew branch.

Tarl stood and walked at her side, the forest beasts and creatures backed off, fading into the shadows of the glade. Standing before the firebird was to stand before the flame that was as old as the world itself.

“If I don’t make it, remember what you saw here.” Yina’s wrinkled halfling face formed a soft smile with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Tarl nodded and watched Yina step into the embrace of the Phoenix disappearing in fire. 

“It has been my greatest honour and love to be your Dìonadair. 

Stella looked worried. Yina and Tarl had been in a coma-like state for half the day. Both were soaked and both looked distressed. The cleric had made many prayers and if it wasn’t for Walnut's presence more things would likely have been smashed. 

Her job was to protect and heal and here lay her best friend and she was unable to do anything other than wait. It had taken less time last time and Yina spoke nothing of what happened.

But it was taking a lot longer this time around. Stella had used nearly all the holly, for what use it was she had no idea. 

“Stella..” the word is barely audible.

Both Walnut and Stella reacted. The cleric grabbed the hand of her friend. The druid squeezed back.

“Did she make it back?” Tarl asked, coming out of his strange meditation.

“I did.” Yina sat up and embraced Tarl where the pair hugged and both shed tears.

Stella, as confused as she was, let them have the moment before interrupting.

“The Mausoleum of Peperit, you said it a dozen times?” the cleric asked.

Yina wiped the tears from her face and settled herself.

“It’s where we need to go.”