Essi stood in the tavern door, the cold spring wind swirling around her arms, rippling her dress and braided hair. She stared across the room at the Hero, and immediately knew he was a fake.

It was written in the stars on his face - very nearly correct, and the harp he was playing, the tone almost bright and true enough.

"Oi." Someone poked her in the back. "Oi, Essi, stop standing in the door. I want a beer."

"Right," she muttered, stepping fully into the tavern. It was small, bright, and familiar, filled with the fug of working men and the savory smell venison from the kitchen. She walked absently over to the bar, and waited for the bartender to bring her a plate.

As she sat, her gaze was pulled back to the Hero.

"And so!" His voice was loud and clear, rolling over the rapt crowd. He strummed in time with the words, pulling rills and trills from his harp as the tale ended. "The rolling fire cascaded down the dune, heating it to glass! But I hid, pulling the silk over my head. It was seared and lost its magic, but I escaped to fight another day!" He paused a moment, finishing with one last flourish, and lowered his harp. "And that, good men of Stook, is how we pushed back the Sandy Wastes and opened the Crevice which runs from northern Aludra to southern Elsing." He took a bow, and a few townsfolk clapped.

"Supper, Essi." The bartender pulled her attention back with a thunk, as a plate hit the counter.

"Thanks." She dropped a few coins on the wood, but he pushed them away without even looking.

"'Nuff of that," he growled. "You're our wonder-woman, and I still won't take your money."

"Thank you." She gave him a genuine smile.

He frowned. "Stop mentioning it, I tell you!"

"You know I won't."

"Ah, well." He shook his head, and turned to watch the Hero. "You here for him?"

"I didn't even know a Hero was in town." She swallowed her mouthful of potatoes. "I'll have to talk to him, I guess." She pursed her lips to hide a grimace. "Know what he's here for?"

"Same as the last, I bet." The bartender shrugged. "The Huldrek."

"Ah."

"Think this one'll have better luck?" He poured a beer, and she took a gulp.

"We'll have to wait and see." She the memories turned her stomach, and she pasted on smile to cover the sudden loss of appetite. "I guess his stars will decide. But perhaps I can help him." She dropped the mug and stood. "I'd better introduce myself, at least."

She studied the Hero as she walked over, noting how he carefully arranged his harp in its case. He wore bright clothes, green and red, but dirty from the road and tough enough to last. He looked up as she neared, his eyes a faded blue. He grinned and pushed a lock of blonde hair back, drawing her attention to the stars on his forehead. They marked him as a Hero, but something in her disagreed loudly. He didn’t quite feel right.

"Evening, Hero." She managed to sound casual.

"Ah, hello." He scanned her quickly, taking in her fine blue dress and the glint of silver at her ears. "I was told about you. The wonder-woman. Essi, right?"

She nodded.

"Nice to meet you." He held out a hand, and she shook it firmly to disguise her unease. "I'm Aster, wandering bard, occasional soldier, and sometimes Hero."

"Only sometimes?" She cocked her head.

"Well, it doesn't pay as well as you might think." He laughed lightly, and she joined him.

"So, what brings you here?" She waved to the tavern. "Is there a monster among us? Simply passing through?"

"The woodsmen are happy and kind, from what I've seen. I don’t think I’ve met a monster." He shrugged his harp onto one shoulder. "And there is nothing 'through' Stook. Perhaps you could say that's what brought me."

"The Huldrek, then." She moved for the door, and he followed her outside.

"Mmm." He looked down the valley, where the town’s stream tumbled and spread into the Stook River. "The river cuts through the Huldrek’s woods well enough, I suppose, but it stops here." He turned to the mountains behind. In the fading sunlight, a dim glow could be seen farther up where the forest grew wilder. "Perhaps the logging would eventually clear it, but if the Lord of the Pass was subdued, the territory of man could be quickly pushed through, connecting Stook to eastern Gelatia and cutting Huldrek territory in two It would open trade routes, which currently pass miles to the south, avoiding these mountains and the Vodyanoi swamps on the way to Aludra."

"Don't they go north, as well?" Essi led him towards the upper edge of town, leading the way through log cabins and dirt roads. Her boots kept her feet dry and clear of the mud.

"Yes, and it's faster." He slowed as they hiked. "Although far more perilous. The Trolde own the north wastes, and their borders shift with the seasons. Judge the edges correctly and you can slip past, but you're at the whim of the weather. One unseasonal day can toss you into the snows or the trees."

"You know your Lore," Essi said, stopping and turning to face him. He stepped up to stand beside her, looking out into the woods surrounding the village.

"Of course." He shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled widely. "I'm a Hero."

"Are you, though?" She leaned in close, finally realizing what had been bothering her. He gave her a puzzled stare. "These stars…" He jerked back as she raised a finger to his forehead. "They look like tattoos to me."

"What does it matter?" His grin redoubled. "I have the harp, as well."

"It's bright and true," she nodded, "but doesn't quite ring of magic."

"Ah, such doubt!" He laughed cheerfully. "Then perhaps my silver blade?" He reached to his pack and pulled out a hand-axe, crescent edge scarred but sharp. He pointed to a few spots of tarnish on the dull steel. "See how it gleams!"

"What are you trying to pull, mister Aster?" Her voice slashed through his bravado like a whip. "You're no Hero! You'll get yourself killed!"

"Ah, but I am a Hero." He shrugged. "After all, it isn't for man to decide, right? It's something fated, from the day of birth. Man can't stand against the Lords and Ladies without a Chosen Hero. Should I show you the Nokk strings on my harp, or the Ifreet claw I keep as a reminder? Humans may be forced to live in the cracks and crevices between these warring spirits, but I've pushed back the powers-that-be with my own hand. What I'm curious about, Essi, is you." His voice sharpened, his blue eyes piercing. "What do your own stars say? The townsfolk claim you’re a wonder-woman. But when the forest rolls in, do you step up with lighting and fire and push it back?"

"…I keep them safe," she retorted weakly. "I'm trying to help, to protect!"

"And thank you for your concern. But I saw your offerings along the road. Charcoal and bread and salt. Good enough, perhaps, for any woodsman taught to appease the Huldrek." His grin turned knowing. "But wonder-woman? They didn’t seem magical to me. Can I see your stars, Essi? All I want to know is, if you're a witch, are you a good witch—" He leaned in close, and she felt his breath on her ear "—or a bad witch?"

She squirmed at his nearness, the sudden warm scent of him, but she needed to know more about this so-called Hero. She needed to keep the town safe, by any means. Maybe she could save him, too.

"Shall I show you?" she whispered back. "I'm a bad witch, Aster. A very, very bad witch." She gave him a lascivious smile, but he laughed again, and pulled back.

"No, no. Just teasing. But if I'm no Hero, Essi, then you're no wonder-woman. And that would be unfortunate, because I was hoping someone could guide me through the forest tomorrow, to where the Huldrek in the pass lives." His face turned serious. "So I can kill it."

"Well, maybe I can do that, at least. Stay the night at my house. I have a spare bed, and I can take you tomorrow." She tried to smile again, but it came out twisted. "I've done that before."

"You know your Lore, too." His return smile was mocking. "As expected of a wonder-woman."

"Yes." She turned her back to him, to hide her scowl. "Yes, that's what I am."

---

Essi crept down the stairs, after she was sure her guest was asleep.

Her house was high and snug, warmed by low coals in the grate and thick curtains that cut blocked the ever-present glow of the forest. Aster was snoring gently in his cot, laid out before the fire.

She slipped through the living room. It was filled with the accoutrements of a wonder-woman, things of crystal and wire spangling the shelves, bright embroidery gleaming on arcane gewgaws and gimmicks. Aster never stirred, even as a chill swirled through the door and she slid out.

She walked quickly towards the forest's edge and stood there for a long, long minute.

Finally, unable to turn back, she found her hidden path and ventured into the trees.

The woods glowed gently around her, the Huldrek's luminance increasing as she made her way inwards. She stopped at a small clearing, where a low stone altar held a sprig of alder-wood, the leaves still green. She picked it up, and felt a connection.

'Bring him.'

"But—"

'Bring him!'

"He is no Hero!"

'Did you not see the stars on his brow?'

"Tattoos!"

'And the harp he carries?'

"Plain and ordinary!"

'His axe!'

"Steel, only steel!"

'Bring him.'

"A-Aye."

'And when he comes… the same! Do you hear me, human? The same!'

Her gut churned, and her heart rebelled, but she had no choice. Not anymore. The words pried themselves from her lips.

"Aye, Lord."

The town, at least, would be safe.

---

They breakfasted on porridge, early in the day, and Essi took her wandering bag down from by the door. They stepped out the back, hiking into the forest before the town truly came awake. In the distance, an axe could be heard; in a few hours, carts would set out to carry charcoal and wood down the narrow valley to the foothills, where Aludran merchants would trade it for local potatoes, salt from the bare shores of the Coatli peninsula to the south and grain that edged the Anansi plains in summer.

The Aludran empire stretched far, webbing its narrow way around the vast spaces of the Lords and Ladies, the powers-that-be, where no ordinary human ventured and even a Chosen Hero feared to tread. If the Stook Pass was opened, a Crevice carved through the Huldrek mountains, the town would grow rich on trade. Fine silk from the Aludra would mingle with Gelatia's fine iron and copper.

Essi cast one last glance back as the village vanished between the trees. The dream of wealth was a fine one, but empty if the town didn't survive.

"So, this is the Huldrek forest." Aster was peering around curiously. "Seems rather… empty."

"Aye." Essi nodded, and fished in her bag. "Let's hope it stays that way." She pulled out a small flute. "The Huldrek are scattered across it, of course, but during the day the danger comes from the Brites."

Aster waited as she blew a lilting tune, fingers flying across the holes.

"And those are?" he asked, as she lowered the instrument.

"Nasty things." She shook her head and led him on. "Watch for motion in the corner of your eyes. You can't look at them directly; they'll draw in their breath and stand behind a tree if you do. They're worse at night, or in the deep pines, where there's no shadow to betray them."

"Is that why the forest glows?" He brushed a few leaves as they passed, watching the light ripple over his fingers.

"I don't believe so. The luminance seems to come from the Huldrek, and the Brites are simply part of that."

"I see."

The path flowed away behind them, the sun inching higher in the sky. As they climbed the valley, Essi stopped more and more often to play the flute.

"Should I harp?" Aster asked.

"Don't bother." Essi grimaced. "My music should keep them at bay, and uncasing that thing will waste more time than it's worth."

When they started up the crags, through a tunnel of towering elms, Aster asked her to pause.

"Got to catch my breath." He smiled, panting slightly. "The air is thinner here."

They stood a silent moment, looking down the valley. Stook was toybox-small, the river a swelling wire of silver.

"Say." Aster turned to her. "What happened to the last Hero the villiagers were gossiping about?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, I’m curious. I knew him. We were rather close." His eyes turned piercing. "He had a flute," he motioned to the instrument she carried "about, oh, as long as that one, with stars in, hmm, perhaps about the same places, and a lovely lilting tone, that's, well, maybe just about exactly the same." He grinned, but there was little humor in it. "Three stars on his brow," Aster pointed to his own forehead, "about here - here - and here. He was, you see, my brother."

"Julpan," she whispered.

"Yes, his name was Julpan." His smile faded. "Did you guide him, Essi?"

"I— Yes." She turned away. "The Brites killed him, because he forgot his flute."

"I see."

"You ready?"

He nodded, and they set off.

The elms began to thin as they climbed, letting the sun through to warm their shoulders. The next time Essi stopped to play, Aster was frowning.

"I'm seeing one, I think." He turned, looking around the forest.

"Pay it no mind," Essi replied. "As long as I keep playing every so often, they'll stay back. We're near the Huldrek's grove, now."

"Hmm." Aster looked up the path. "Near enough to see it, perhaps?" He leaned back, pointing up through the canopy to where a huge tree rose above the pass.

"Yes."

They stood a moment, until he motioned her to lead. She shivered as she turned her back to him, but she had little choice in continuing.

"You know," he said, as she lowered the flute again, "I don't think Julpan was the sort who would forget his flute."

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"And, if I knew a little more Lore, as you might expect a Hero would, I'd say ordinary whistling - or even normal music - might draw a monster to us instead of driving them away."

"Sorry," she repeated wretchedly.

"In fact, Essi—" But he stopped, even as the Brite stepped from the trees directly before her.

For a long moment she froze in fear, its glowing eyes burning into her. The stench hit her as the wind shifted, a rotting miasma which oozed from the shreds of flesh clinging to the rough hide it wore and the cracked elk-skull that masked its visage. The antlers towered over its head, mirroring the vicious claws on its rangy, sinewy limbs. It seemed carved from broken shadows, glimmers leaking from the cracks as it moved.

It brushed past her silently, and she turned.

Aster met it with his axe.

There was a meaty thunk as it replied with its claws.

The fight was mostly silent, ragged breath and gasping snarls. It continued for far, far longer than she would have liked, unable to run past them and unwilling to run towards the Huldrek's alder. A huge Presence filled the forest for a moment, fleeting, full of malice and anger. With her, and at Aster. The breeze shifted, and she heard the alder's branches shake behind her. The Brite roared.

"Ah!" Aster disengaged with a yell, rolling backwards and coming up on one knee. He fumbled at his belt for a moment, snatching out an amber vial. One thumb popped the top, and he poured it onto his blade.

The Brite flinched from the smell of alcohol. Aster stood, holding the axe before him. The Brite spun, but he stepped up and swung his arm, hurling the axe. It spun once before flashing through the monster, whisking past Essi’s ear and slamming into a tree-trunk behind.

A sound like water sizzling in a hot pan filled the forest, and the monster evaporated.

"In fact, Essi," Aster panted, "if you weren't a wonder-woman, I'd be convinced you were trying to kill me." He gave her a sick smile as he stood shakily. The tears in his shirt revealed wooden plates beneath, cracked and scored. Blood oozed from between, but he drew a deep breath and, with a shudder, pulled himself straight. "Like I'd guess you killed my brother."

"I,I—"

"Did you kill my brother?" His question cut her.

"I protected the village!" she moaned.

"And the cost?"

The wind brought a rustle of leaves, and the Presence was back.

'A little blood…' A voice hummed in their ears, carried by the breeze in the branches. 'A little… sacrifice!'

"Damn." Aster forced himself forwards, brushing lightly past her. The weight of power nearly pushed her to her knees as she felt the forces bearing down on him. "Damn you, you fucking piece of firewood!" He threw his head back, screaming to the sky.

Essi had no idea how he was still walking, with all that malice pouring over him, but she staggered after, unable to leave. He forced his legs to move, visibly struggling against the magic. She was dragged after, unwilling but unwilled, drawn to the Huldrek's grove.

'It's a sad story,' the tree continued, 'Of a charcoal-maker's daughter, caught alone and friendless in the woods of Gelatia. Lost and beset on all sides, she stumbles through the pass and finds, joy of joys, a small town! And there she shows them the lore her father taught her, how to appease the woods, how to work with the Lords of the Land, how to give, and how to take, and how to bargain for safety!'

They stumbled into the grove, a wide ring of trees standing back from a rocky crag, where a giant alder towered. A manlike thing perched on the rock, swinging his legs lazily, clothed in moss. He was handsome and fair, and his eyes were flat bark brown.

'But a bargain's no good unless both sides profit, you know.' He leaped down, landing lightly, and walked towards Aster. Essi cowered, but couldn't turn away. 'And so, the "wonder-woman" was born. Perhaps it was her destiny to meet a wandering hero; perhaps it was her destiny to trade her soul away, slice-by-slice, for power, and influence, and money, and, heh, respect. Your brother may have had those stars on his brow, but if his destiny was heroic, it was tragic as well.'

The Huldrek stalked forwards, circling Aster.

'And you, with those markings, with that harp, you come wandering through. Do you think your destiny greater than your brothers? Stronger than hers?' He waved to the shivering wonder-woman.

Aster brandished his axe.

The Huldrek shook a finger in admonishment, grasped the blade, and snapped it clean off the shaft.

'I'm going to eat you, Aster.' He leaned in close. 'I'll have my witch, yes, a very bad witch indeed, hex you from behind like she did to your brother, and even as she's crying and shaking, I'll have her slit your throat over my taproot, and—"

Aster flipped the axe end-for-end. The Huldrek went silent as it spun once in the air, a bemused smirk on his face. Aster caught it coming down, right below the broken blade, and whipped the handle into the Huldrek’s face.

Essi gasped at the meaty thwack, the Lord of the Pass staggering with pure shock in eyes.

"Destiny, you say?" Aster growled, knuckling his fist white on the wood and slugging the creature in the chest. Something crunched, wood or bone.

'What—'

"Fuck destiny. The stars don't guide me." Aster stepped up, weathering a fierce blow. The Huldrek hissed as his fingers touched that strange wooden armor.

"It's salted rowan, the rod and the plate." Aster raised his axe-handle again. "I did my time, I know my Lore."

'Wait, don't—'

Essi watched, shocked and wondering, as the axe-handle smashed into the man-thing’s teeth, splattering gore and splinters on the ground.

"Mountain ash is sacred wood. It can hurt even you. And salt? Salt in a wound hurts anything. I'm not here on a 'quest'," Alder grunted. "I'm here on a mission. I'm a Chosen Hero."

Aster kicked the apparition as it scrambled crablike back towards its tree, suddenly terrified by something that could harm it. It collapsed.

"I chose."He slammed the rod into the thing’s temple. It crunched and dented, twitched and dropped, surprisingly fragile to the stronger wood.

"To be."He stabbed the rod down, exposing a barren cavity in the center of the puppet with a crackle.

"A hero. He reached into his pack, shaking hands coming out with a glass bottle and a flint sparker.

"So fuck destiny. And fuck the way of the world. I have a right to stake my claim against the powers-that-be, and I don't need the stars to tell me that."

Essi watched in shock as he poured the liquor into the body. It took a few tries, and a handful of curses, but it eventually lit with a bright red flame. As the Huldrek’s puppet burned, the roots of the alder caught too, and a silent scream ripped through the forest.

It went on, and on, and on.

Finally, when the trunk was charred and blackened, and the husk on the ground was ash, sound returned.

Essi quailed as Aster turned to her.

"Stop that," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I,I—"

"Yes, you helped kill my brother." He dragged a hand down his face. "Somehow, maybe. But I'm no saint, and I've chosen not to kill humans anymore, not if I can help it. There's bigger evils in the world than one selfish, foolish pawn. I would know. Can you do better?"

She stood in silence a long moment, remembering him standing over the Huldrek, rowan rod raised, and nodded slowly.

"Yes." She raised her chin. "Yes, I can choose to."

"Good enough for me." He turned and walked out of the glade. She followed, hesitantly at first, but faster when he turned and beckoned her after.

---

"So, you're staying?" Aster rubbed his eyes, standing at the village gate. They had made it back before dark and collapsed. There would be a celebration tonight, when Essi told… some of what had happened, but he wanted to be gone before then.

"Should you be going?" She asked, looking at the bandages on his ribs.

"Yes." His reply was curt. "I need to keep moving, need to keep fighting." He shot his sleeve, baring an old scar. "You can't see my stars anymore, but I was originally a soldier. Bit of a mercenary, really." He smirked at her. "Sold to the highest bidder, fighting for power, and money, and, heh, a bit of respect."

She winced at the words.

"Sorry." He sobered. "But the thing is, when my brother died, I realized that being a Hero, being 'chosen', doesn't guarantee much. I've seen Heroes before, and all those stars do—" he ran a finger over his forehead "—all they guarantee is a fair fight, against the monsters and Lords. So," he grinned and tapped the rowan haft at his side, "I promised myself to never get caught in a fair fight."

"And…" She paused, shook her head. "No, I know it works."

"Mmm. So, if you're staying, wonder-woman, keep spreading the Lore, and maybe add in a bit about the Heroes that choose themselves."

"That's the sort of thing a bad witch would do, you know?" She smiled at him, and he smirked back.

"Yeah." He winked, and turned away. "I'm counting on it."