The Blackstar Legacy
Copyright© 2026 by Lumpy
Chapter 3
They spent the rest of the day retracing their steps back to the Sage’s glade. Even with Jasper’s proclamation, the mood had turned somewhat darker, if that was possible, as the fullness of their task became apparent. Rowan and Jasper spent most of the walk describing what they would face when they reached the Claws.
Osric had seen it in the vision the gods had given him, seen the images of what the place looked like and felt the hate from the place, but Talia and Grace had no idea what was in store. The descriptions were enough to give even Grace pause, and had affected the mood of all of them.
When they’d searched for the temple, they’d been blind, groping about in the dark, not knowing what they were looking for or how they would end up. Osric wasn’t sure if he didn’t prefer that more. This time, knowing exactly the kind of obstacles that lay ahead of them, he had time to think about it. To worry.
That wasn’t the only thing on Osric’s mind. The dangers of the Claws, the vision of what had happened to the Blackstar and how it had shattered, that all made sense. It was where the Veilguard had always been leading them, in a way.
The vision of Jasper was something altogether different. For one, it hadn’t come from the entire Veilguard, that much was clear. For another, it was hard for Osric to see how it was connected to their quest. It felt more personal than that.
But was it a warning? A clue about something? Only one person knew the answer to that.
They’d decided to spend the night in the safety of the Sage’s grove one last time before they headed out of Avendell and back into the world that had tried so hard to kill them the last time. It had been a long day, for Osric as much as any of them, but he found it difficult to fall asleep.
Finally, he gave up and made his way toward the few small huts built for the druids who did not want to live inside the massive trees, one of which had been given to Jasper for his use. Osric wasn’t jealous about it, since he liked the tree, but it was a good sign of what the Sage and the other humans living in the forest thought of Jasper.
Osric raised his hand to knock on the wooden door of Jasper’s hut, hesitating for a moment. The small building stood quiet, its lantern extinguished. He glanced back toward the tree-dwelling he was supposed to be sleeping in, wondering if he should just go back and drop his concern. But he couldn’t. He’d tried and all it did was make him restless.
The choice was made when his knuckles lightly rapped the surface, almost of their own accord. Moments later, the door creaked open, revealing Jasper with a faintly curious expression. His robes, usually pristine, were slightly rumpled, and his graying hair seemed even more disheveled than usual.
“Osric?” Jasper’s voice held a hint of surprise. “I thought you’d be resting or making plans for tomorrow.”
Osric gave a half-smile. “I should be, but something’s been on my mind. I wanted to talk to you about it.”
Jasper studied him for a moment, then stepped aside. “Come in.”
The interior of the hut was sparse but comfortable. A modest cot occupied one corner, a table covered in neatly arranged scrolls and a lit candle stood near the center, and a worn leather bag hung on the wall. Jasper motioned Osric to a chair as he moved to his own seat near the table.
“The vision I had at the pond ... there was more than just the Nexus and the Blackstar.”
“Something about me.”
It wasn’t a question. Jasper was smart and had worked out that Osric being here meant something.
“Yes. There was ... something else. I didn’t want to bring it up in front of the others.”
“What exactly did you see?”
“What I saw, it was ... it felt different from the other visions. Like it was meant for me to see, but not to scare me. This wasn’t like the visions I’ve had before. It felt like someone was trying to warn me. Or maybe warn you. I believe it came from Heathus.”
“You could tell which god spoke to you?”
“Sort of. I can’t see them, or hear them, but the feeling that comes with their visions changes. Some are angry, others are kind of ... gentle. Like they’re offering guidence to a child. A few were uncertain, like they were testing the waters. I think it depends on the god that gives me the vision. Based on what you’ve told us of Heathus, his care for family, his protectiveness, it felt like that.”
“How can you be certain? Dark forces could plant false visions to divide us.”
“It wasn’t that. I felt that darkness in the temple, and this felt nothing like that.”
“But what did you actually see?”
“A young girl with blonde hair. She was with a younger version of you, and she was somewhere I didn’t recognize. She clearly admired you. Then I saw her again, a little older version of her. A little taller. She was afraid, not of you, of something else. You both were looking at something in the distance, and you seemed worried, too.”
He knew what Osric was talking about, that much was clear. Osric could see it in his eyes. Not just his eyes. Jasper’s fingers traced the worn edges of a bracelet Osric had noticed on him before but hadn’t really thought of until now. Though he tried to hide it, there was also pain on his face. Something so deep it was almost physical.
Jasper sat back, his hand still touching the bracelet, but when he spoke, he managed to keep the pain out of his voice. “No. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Osric didn’t reply at first. He just stared at Jasper, studying his face. His eyes.
“Why did you just lie to me?”
Jasper froze, his hand stilling over the worn leather. For a moment, it seemed he might say something, but the words didn’t come.
“You know exactly what I mean,” Osric pressed. “I get it, you don’t want to talk about it. Whatever happened, whoever she is, it’s clearly something that hurts you. But this wasn’t some random vision. Your god wanted me to see it. That has to mean it’s important.”
“I ... can’t talk about it. Not right now.”
Osric studied him again, and then sighed. “Alright. I’m not going to pry, and I won’t tell the others if you don’t want me to. But if it becomes important, if it puts them, or this mission, in danger, then you need to say something. And if you don’t, I will.”
The words hung between them for a long moment. Jasper’s expression softening, his hand dropping to his lap.
“I will,” he said.
Osric wasn’t a counselor or a reader of people. He was a blacksmith’s apprentice, but even he could hear the regret in Jasper’s voice.
Osric nodded, rising from his seat. “Good.”
“Osric,” Jasper called, just as Osric reached for the latch to the door.
Osric paused, glancing back. Jasper was looking at him, but also into the distance ... as if he were looking through the walls of the hut.
“Whatever happened with that girl ... I made the choices I thought were right at the time.”
“I hope so,” Osric said. “I really do.”
With that, Osric stepped out into the night, closing the door behind him, leaving Jasper to his secrets.
It took the better part of a day to get out of Avendell and back into the Great Forest. Instead of heading north through the forest, they decided to head straight west and catch the Great Road north to the Claws.
Although they’d been in Avendell for over a month, the last time they’d been in the forest, it had been crawling with Brethren looking for Osric and the ring. Of course, things might have changed now that they’d found both parts of the document, but Rowan felt it safer to be out of the forest, just in case.
The Greenwood portion of the road was patrolled by the Farvale Guard in the south and the Greenwood Levy in the north and widely known to be one of the safest sections of the road that circled the lake and central island that were the heart of the Kingdom of Aeloria.
It still took days to get through the forest to the road, and thankfully, they’d avoided any run-ins with the Brethren along the way. Osric hoped that meant they’d given up after so much time had passed and had gone home.
He also knew how unlikely that was.
The sun was just setting over the horizon, and dusk had fallen, turning everything into a deep blue when they finally broke through the tree line.
And then they froze. Osric and Rowan were in the lead, and both pulled up short as the road came into view. Even at night, the Great Road got a lot of traffic. Merchants and guardsmen, travelers and farmers would be coming and going.
What they didn’t expect to see was an elderly man, two women, and a handful of children surrounded by ten men in leather armor, brandishing clubs and short swords.
They hadn’t heard anything before coming out of the forest, which wasn’t unusual. The tree line had a way of absorbing all but the loudest sounds. Now that they were in the open, however, Osric could hear them clearly.
“ ... toll or we’ll take it out of your hides. Or do you...”
They stopped mid-sentence as Osric and his group came into view.
“What’s this?” Rowan asked.
Their expressions changed when they looked at Rowan and took in the clasp holding his cloak closed. The symbol of the Greenwood Rangers.
“Ranger,” one of the bandits said, disgust in his voice.
“Walk away now,” Rowan replied, colder than Osric had ever heard him speak.
“You’re all by yourself, Ranger. None of your Ranger friends here, just a kid, an old man, and a couple of girls. There are ten of us. You Rangers are finished. Done for.”
“You heard him. Walk away!” Osric shouted, pulling his sword.
“Look, Dorun, the kid thinks he’s a man,” one of the other brigands scoffed.
They were ignoring the travelers now, who were still frozen in place, like if they didn’t draw attention to themselves maybe the men would forget they were there.
The only thing that gave the brigands a moment’s pause was Cinder coming up next to Osric, baring his fangs and growling. They were committed now, though. Not even a wolf appearing out of the forest and joining their targets could dissuade them. Osric had been in a lot of fights in the last month and a half, enough to know they wouldn’t back down. Not now.
Talia and Grace fanned out, Talia so she had a clear line of sight for her weaving and Grace for ... whatever it is Grace would end up doing.
Osric and his friends might not be the ones to make the first move, but they weren’t going to let the bandits draw first blood. As soon as the brigands began to move toward their group, they sprang into action.
As always, Cinder was the first to react, his growl turning into a snarl as he lunged forward, a blur of muscle and dark fur. The closest bandit barely had time to react before the wolf’s powerful jaws clamped down on his arm. The man cried out, the sickening crunch of bone audible even over the commotion. Cinder pulled him down to the ground hard, smashing him into the worn cobblestones.
Grace, always fast, wasn’t far behind him. The bandit she got close to swung clumsily. She sidestepped it easily, her short sword flashing in under his blade, piercing his side. The man let out a strangled cry, pulling himself off the sword and stumbling back, to put room between himself and the nimble thief.
He didn’t make it far when an arrow came streaking in over Grace’s head. The first one smashed high in his chest, the impact causing him to stumble back another step and drop his sword. He might have still survived if Rowan hadn’t sent a second arrow, which thumped into the man barely a finger’s width from the first.
The bandit looked shocked as he crumbled to the ground, as if his last thoughts were of disbelief that his life had ended so quickly.
The rest of the bandits hesitated, glancing between their fallen companions and their still-standing leader. They’d clearly not been prepared for this, expecting unarmed women and children.
The man named Dorun sneered and said, “What are you doing? Kill them!”
The bandits surged forward, whatever organization they had forgotten. The bandit Cinder had pulled down managed to get his arm free and scrambled to his feet, but Cinder wasn’t finished with him, managing to bite into the man’s shoulder, his sharp fangs punching through the leather and flesh as he tried to get up.
Only a wild swing of his sword forced Cinder back, giving the bandit a chance to stagger backward, away from the animal.
Another man, seeing Grace focused on his now-dead comrade, swung his cudgel at her. Something alerted her to the danger because she managed to dodge backward at the last moment, avoiding the full brunt of the weapon, only being clipped on her off arm.
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