I t was a balmy night, with a slight cool breeze under a sky scattered with stars. In the dimly lit valley, the leaves rustled softly, their faint outlines gilded by the large blue moon high in the sky, gliding eastward. The snowcapped mountains surrounding the valley glowed in the lunar light, their icy peaks standing in sharp relief to the night sky. Rising from behind the North-East ridge of the mountains, thick, concentric bands of greyish-white light—the visible rings of the planet—arched high into the starry night before fading into the distance, like a luminous highway into infinity. In the North-East corner of the valley, waterfalls fed by ice-melt cascaded down the slopes of the surrounding mountains, draining into a shallow lake that shimmered under the moonlight. A breeze from the direction of the eastern mountain range rippled over the surface of the lake sending small waves lapping at its shores. From the shoreline, a network of streams wound towards the east edge of the vale exiting through a narrow gorge that divided two mountain ranges: Ikio to the North and Tourinous to the South. The gorge, flanked by the rugged cliffs, served as the only entrance to the valley. Towering, steep rocky cliffs of each side were scarred by the countless waterfalls, fed by the melt from the mountain’s icy peaks. The waterfalls could be heard splashing against the rocks below, obscured by the tree line near the base of the cliffs. Emerging from the tree line, small marshy deltas formed by countless streams. They joined the rapidly flowing stream from the valley, feeding into the torrent of a wide, rocky riverbed a relic of the region’s warmer seasons, when a raging river would sweep through. Tall grassy game trails lining the riverbed waved under the breeze. They wound through slanted trees, long since shaped by raging rivers of the past. The sound of the wind rushing through reeds blended with the panoply of the splashing water and creaking boughs of the trees, stirred by the stronger gusts blowing through the gorge. A shadow of the moon eclipsed the ring as it continued its’ journey eastward. Now directly over the ring of mountains, its silvery light bathed all within the valley and gorge in a gentle glow. At first gilded now the tops of the trees looked ablaze with the direct light. The lake that once shimmered reflected and mirrored the night sky and the encircling mountain range, almost looking like a portal to another world. Ethereal and calm, as the wind had all but completely died down as if it was in awe of the sight, not wanting to break the tranquil peace. The peace was shattered when shadowy figures within the tree line of the gorge, flitted silently between the branches. At first, a few. Then hundreds. The wind as if sensing the shattering of the tranquil moment began to blow at the backs of the flitting figures as they headed up the gorge to the mouth of the vale. The bows again creaking and groaning as if the wind and the figures disturbed their slumber. Further up the gorge a long column of people moved through the shadows along the edge of the tree line near the foot of Ikio, flattening the grass beneath their feet as they too headed to the mouth of the vale. Though they could not be seen there was a tense urgency to their gate. Within two hundred meters of the vale, the figures quickly turned their backs to the wind vanishing like ghost within the shadows of the trees. Up ahead, the figures flitted through the trees before dropping to the ground. They vanished near the mouth of the vale, just outside the glow, as if hiding from the moon. All fell silent, save the gusts of wind through the gorge, the splash of waterfalls, and the creaking of the bows.

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  Time marched on, the wind continuing to blow in gusts and the bows of the trees creaking as if both were trying to find the hidden intruders. Yet. Still. There was no visible trace of the shadowy beings. It was as they never existed. Then just as the wind and the rustling of the trees began to die down, two figures emerged from the cover of the trees. In front, no more than fifty meters from the tree line, a human male with midnight-black hair and a full red beard. He wore a felt coat with broken patterns of green and brown, designed to blend into the wilderness. His piercing, ice-blue eyes, almost silver under the moonlight, surveyed the vale with quiet determination.

  Almost as if phasing into existence as his body left the shadow of the tree line entering the moonlight. The being resembled a man yet was decidedly inhuman; Pale yellow, lamp-like eyes with slitted pupils glowed from the reflected moonlight, beneath short red hair, framed by long, pointed ears. The dense fur covering his body shifted in pattern and color; from matching the surroundings to a golden-white hue, as though shedding a camouflaged sheet. Auburn-orange leopard-like patterns formed on his muscular arms and back as the patterns and color of his body shifted. Retractable claws—sharper than obsidian and stronger than steel—caught the moonlight with a deadly sheen. As with all Niven, he wore little beyond a simple covering for modesty, as clothing would hinder his camouflage. On his right muscular deltoid was a black symbol, as if it had been branded into his flesh. The symbol looked like two cycle-blades attached to a circle, with two concentric arcs orthogonal to the blades. From the symbol branching off were what looked like black bolts of branch lightning radiating from the center of the symbol and traveling up his harm and down his back and side. The man with the midnight black hair surveyed their surroundings, his piercing eyes scanning for any threats as the cat-like being, moved behind him. “This is the place, Ruaraad”, he said in a soft whisper. “Yes, brother,” Ruaraad’s voice resonated from his chest, a rumbling purr carried through his words; his gaze fixed on the distant vale. “But will we make it in time before the assassination squad finds us?” Ruaraad’s tight fur shifted color slightly and his eyes seemed to glow slightly brighter, his claws flexing slightly as he awaited the other man’s answer. The man turned to look directly at Ruaraad, his eyes steely and his voice flinty and cold, “While they may find us it does not matter, I am free and they can’t take that from me. I will either be free or die fighting while free and should the latter happen, I will drag as many as I can with me to a fiery end.” Ruaraad stared at the man for a while, then nodded agreeing with his brothers resolve.