Into Hillfield (Entry 95)

by Hayley Thomas

Dear diary,

It has been too long since I last wrote in these pages. Travel has a way of swallowing both time and reflection, and after Nidhogg, there was little room for either.

We decided, perhaps unwisely, that it was time to turn our attention back to Hillfield. If the gates would not open to us, then we would at least learn what stirred behind them. Scouting. Observing. Gathering threads before pulling them.

Naturally, it did not go as planned.

The first mistake was thinking we could slip Dadroz in quietly and let him work from the inside. His talent for stealth and unlocking things borders on the supernatural. Locks fear him. Shadows favor him. It should have worked.

It would have worked. If not for magic.

We had accounted for guards, patrols, suspicious citizens. We had not accounted for arcane detection woven into the city’s defenses like a spider’s web. Dadroz was spotted before he ever reached the inner streets.

And the Delaroost matriarch had not been idle.

She had hired a mage. A powerful one.
The mage, in turn, sent a retriever.

Now, for those fortunate enough not to know—retrievers are not beasts in the common sense. They are demonic constructs, forged with purpose and animated by stolen souls. They do not tire. They do not doubt. Once given a target, they pursue until either it or they are destroyed.

It locked onto Dadroz.

Gael swore. Liliana didn’t hesitate. The three of them bolted for the Lorewood, drawing the creature away from the city rather than letting it rampage through crowded streets. I caught only a glimpse of it as it vaulted across rooftops in pursuit—long-limbed, unnatural, its eyes burning with singular intent.

“Don’t die,” I muttered under my breath, though whether to them or to fate itself, I couldn’t say.

While they ran, the rest of us chose a far less dramatic approach. Magic.

Honestly, we could have spared ourselves the trouble and begun there. I wove illusion over us, softening edges, reshaping features, dulling anything memorable. We became ordinary—tired laborers, merchants’ kin, forgettable faces in a city too tense to look closely.

Hillfield felt different the moment we stepped inside.
Tighter.
Watchful.

The guards were thicker along the walls, armor polished, hands never far from their weapons. Whispers moved through the streets like wind before a storm. The city wasn’t thriving—it was bracing.

Our first stop was a tavern near the outer wall. The sort of place that smells of stale ale and bad decisions. Seedy, but honest in its way. Information flows more freely where hope runs thin.

Inside, conversations dipped as we entered—just for a heartbeat—before resuming in low murmurs. Dice clattered. A woman laughed too loudly at something that wasn’t funny. A pair of dockhands argued over gnoll raids and unpaid wages.
I ordered drinks we did not intend to finish and leaned in close to the noise.

The underbelly of Hillfield, it turns out, is far less troubled by tightened gates than the rest of the city.

Where nobles see walls, criminals see doors.

It didn’t take much coin—or charm—to confirm what we suspected. The tavern’s regulars might grumble about inspections and patrols, but the ones who mattered simply smirked. There are tunnels carved through the outer walls, we were told. Old smugglers’ routes. Forgotten maintenance passages. Escape veins running beneath the stone.

One man, sharp-eyed and smelling faintly of oil and wet leather, agreed to show us—at a price.

Ileas and Alistan volunteered to follow him. Luke and I remained behind.

“Trust him?” Luke murmured, not looking at me.
“No,” I replied lightly. “But I trust his greed.”

Still, I watched the door longer than necessary after they left.

To my surprise—and mild embarrassment—the man kept his word. Ileas and Alistan returned intact, reporting that the passage was real and usable. No ambush. No attempt at robbery.

I allowed myself a small, private smile.

There is good left in the world, after all. You just have to look down for it, not up.

With an exit secured, we turned to a more dangerous question: power.

My knowledge of Hillfield’s ruling structure begins and ends with the Delaroost family. Alistan, however, filled in the gaps quickly. Traditionally, five noble houses shared control of the city: Delaroost, Galloner, Rotledge, Eastbow, and Heartmaker. A delicate balance of influence and rivalry.

We shifted taverns again—this time to one frequented by house guards. The atmosphere there was louder, coarser, soaked in cheap ale and loose tongues. Guards complain when they feel safe enough to do so. And enough of them were drunk.
We learned three things of note.

First: the common rumor is that we intend to overthrow the Delaroost family and take their place.
I almost laughed at that.
Not entirely wrong.

Second: the council no longer exists.
About a year ago, the other four houses relinquished their authority to the Delaroosts. Voluntarily, according to official accounts. The timing is convenient enough to raise suspicion. Sofia Delaroost now rules alone in all but name.
Queen without a crown.
Lord Delaroost commands the army and spends most of his time beyond the walls, fighting gnolls in the northeast. A convenient absence. It leaves Sofia unchallenged within the city.

And third: she is not without reinforcement.
Two new figures stand at her side.
Titus—a mage from Keralon, known for his constructs. Cold, precise, efficient. The kind of man who sees people as moving parts in a larger design.
And Magnolia.
Officially, she is Sofia’s handmaiden.
Unofficially? No one could quite say. But the way the guards spoke her name—careful, lowered voices, eyes flicking to the door—told me enough. Handmaidens do not inspire that kind of caution.

I set my mug down slowly.

“Well,” I said under my breath, “now we know who sent the Retriever.”

Luke’s jaw tightened.

Hillfield was not simply tightening its defenses.
It was consolidating.
And consolidation rarely ends peacefully.

When we asked about the merchants, the answer was almost disappointing.

They are doing fine.
Of course they are.

Trade hasn’t stopped—just become more expensive. A few extra bribes at the gates. A few more “inspection fees.” But coin still changes hands, caravans still roll in, and profit still outweighs principle. The merchants, we were told, stand firmly with the nobles.

And firmly against Tarn.

I kept my expression neutral as that little detail settled into place. Hillfield eats well. Tarn strains its stores feeding refugees. And the merchants see no issue with that balance.

“Interesting,” Luke murmured as we stepped back into the street.
Interesting indeed.

Weakening Hillfield has quietly worked its way onto our list of necessities. Not conquest—yet—but pressure. And pressure requires leverage. Most of their supply stockpiles sit near the city gates, where shipments can be counted, taxed, and redirected quickly.

Close to the gates.
Close to the walls.
Close to those very convenient smuggler tunnels.

An opportunity, perhaps.

We continued wandering, playing the part of aimless townsfolk. That was when Luke slowed mid-step, his eyes narrowing slightly as he reached out with his senses.

“There’s magic in the air,” he said under his breath.

I thought he meant metaphorically.

He did not.

He focused harder, and I felt it then too—a faint, almost imperceptible brushing along my skin. Not a spell cast at us directly. Something ambient. Diffuse.

“Spore-like,” he added. “Enchantment.”

The word made my stomach tighten.

The air of Hillfield is thick with magical spores—tiny motes drifting unseen, clinging to skin and fabric and breath. Anything they touch is nudged. Influenced. Softened around the edges.

Including us.

The effect, thankfully, is subtle. Prolonged exposure would deepen it, but a few hours only dull the sharpest instincts. Still—suddenly the city’s mood made sense.

The complacency.
The quiet acceptance of the council dissolving.
The lack of outrage.

This wasn’t just political maneuvering.
It was cultivated obedience.

I clenched my jaw, anger simmering low and steady. Sofia Delaroost is not merely consolidating power. She is shaping the will of her people.

“Let’s not linger,” I murmured.

To gather more information, I sent Fiachna skyward. My faithful raven cut through the haze with ease, circling high above the Delaroost estate. I closed my eyes briefly, seeing through her as she swooped lower.

The mansion grounds are heavily warded. She couldn’t pass the boundary—not without triggering something unpleasant—but from above, everything appeared orderly. Guards patrolling. Windows shuttered. No visible constructs stalking the gardens. No obvious rituals burning in the courtyards.

Nothing out of place.
Which, in itself, is suspicious.
I opened my eyes as Fiachna settled back onto my shoulder.

“Clean,” I said quietly. “Too clean.”

Hillfield looks stable.
It smells stable.
It even feels stable—if you ignore the magic in the air and the fact that one woman now rules unopposed.
This is not chaos.
This is control.
And control, once cracked, tends to shatter loudly.

We were halfway to the gate when Gael’s message tore through my thoughts like a snapped bowstring.

"We can’t lose it. It’s still on us. We might need help."

No preamble. No attempt at calm. Just urgency.
The retriever.

For a heartbeat, everything else fell away—Magnolia, spores, nobles, politics. None of it mattered if our friends were being hunted through the Lorewood by a construct that does not tire.

“Go,” Luke said immediately.

We turned as one, ready to abandon subtlety for speed—
—and then the second message came.

"We’re back in Tarn. Shadow teleported us."

Relief hit so hard my knees nearly buckled. Gael’s second shadow—mysterious, unsettling, but undeniably useful—had pulled them out before the retriever could finish the job.
“Remind me to thank it,” I muttered, though I’m not entirely certain it understands gratitude.

With them safe, we stayed.

Luke closed his eyes again, this time not searching broadly, but tracing the pattern of enchantment in the air. The spores weren’t random. They flowed—subtle currents drifting through the city like invisible smoke. He followed their pull.

They led us uphill.
To wealth.
To polished stone and manicured hedges and gates that gleamed with recent restoration. The spores thickened the closer we came, clinging to us more insistently, as though aware we were noticing them.
And there, nestled behind wrought iron and curated roses, stood a newly renovated mansion.
Magnolia’s home.

I stared at it for a long moment.

“So,” I said quietly, “the handmaiden tends more than gardens.”

The concentration of magic was undeniable. This was the source—or at least one of them. The enchantment drifting across Hillfield began here.

Which means Magnolia is no mere attendant.

We did not linger long. Proximity alone made my thoughts feel heavier, slower around the edges. Whatever she is weaving, it is designed for patience.

Back in Tarn, we regrouped. Gael, Liliana, and Dadroz looked battered but alive. The retriever had not followed them through the teleportation—small mercies.

Now came the harder question.

What do we do?

Assassinate Magnolia and hope the spell collapses with her?
Expose the enchantment and try to convince the nobles they’ve surrendered power under magical influence?
Seek out the army—find Lord Delaroost in the field—and force a reckoning from outside the city walls?

Each path carries risk. Each could ignite something we are not yet ready to contain.

We need time.
Time to fortify Tarn.
Time to secure supplies.
Time to make allies.

For now, we hold.

I sent Fiachna skyward once more, this time to search for the army and for signs of gnoll movement. If Hillfield and the gnolls remain locked in conflict, that buys us breathing room.
We will not strike yet.

Hillfield believes itself stable, united, compliant.

Let it.

Strength is best built in silence.
And when we move, it will not be out of desperation.
It will be because we are ready.

Continue reading...

Entry one: The trials

Entry two: The bramble

Entry 3: Rosebloom

Entry 4: Hearts and Dreams

Entry 5: of ghosts and wolves

Entry 6: Hillfield and Deals with Fae

Entry 7: mysteries and pastries

Entry 8: The scarecrow ruse
6th of Lug, 121 Year of the Tree

Entry 9: A betrayal of satyrs
7th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Entry 10: The fate of twins
8th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Entry 11: Cursed twins
10th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Entry 12: Loss and despair
11th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Hayley's rules to being a Witch

Entry 13: the price of safety
12th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Entry 14: A golden cage and fiery tower
13th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Entry 15: A trial by fire
14th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Entry 16: Keralon
15th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Letter to Luke 1

Letter to Luke 2

Letter to Luke 3

Letter to Luke 4

Letter to Luke 5

Letter to Luke 6

Entry 17: I shall wear midnight
1st of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 18: peace in our time
2nd of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 19: Caern Fussil falls
3rd of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 20: I see fire
4th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 21: Cultists twarted
10th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 22: Ravensfield
14th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 23: The Hollow Hill Horror
15th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 24: Burn your village
16th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 25: Ravensfield burns
17th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 26: There will be blood!
21st of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 27: A happy reunion
22nd of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 28: The embassy ball
23rd of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 29: The fate of Robert Talespinner
24th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 30: A royal summons
28th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 31: of Dogville and Geese
29th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 32: A boggle named Pim
30th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 33: A deal broken
1st of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 34: The cost of doing what is right
2nd of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 35: A dish best served cold
9th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

entry 36: Cornu returns?
10th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 37: A letter from Amarra
11th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 38: The case of the (not) missing villagers
14th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 39: A curse broken
15th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 40: Into the Lorewood
18th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 41: Cabin in the Woods
19th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 42: Myrdin and Anaya
20th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 43: Into the Immerglade
21st of Aran, 127 Era of the Tree

Entry 44: A tale as old as time
22nd of Aran, 127 Era of the Tree

Entry 45: The truth
23rd of Aran, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 46: Luke's Ordeal
24th of Aran, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 47: The festival
26th of Aran, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 48: Trouble at the Cathedral
2nd of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 49: Quinn's court
4th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 50: onwards to Latebra Velora
5th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 51: Where is my cow?
6th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 52: Here be dragons
7th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 53: Dragon hoard with a side of scarabs
8th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 54: Leave the basilisks alone
9th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 55: Return to Ravensfield
10th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 56: The needs of the many...
11th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 57: Dreams of Sister Willow
12th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 58: wetlands be wet
13th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 59: Baron Perenolde
14th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 60: Talebra Velora and the lady Morenthene
15th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 61: Cypria
16th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 62: Dragon takes Knight
17th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 63: Return to Talebra Velora
18th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 64: Your presence is “requested”
19th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 65: I stand alone
20th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 66: A day of normalcy
21th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 67: Into the Neverhold
22nd of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 68: The Warg King

Entry 69: Chased by birds

Entry 70: Whitewail

Entry 71: Nimmerhold

Entry 72: The menagerie
29th of Gobu, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 73: To the library!
30th of Gobu, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 74: The people's tournament
First of Mannan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 75: Nimmerhold party
First of Mannan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 76, The return home
Second of Mannan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 77: A week of peace
10th of Mannan

Entry 78: The tomb of the First King
11th of Mannon, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 79: I had a dream
12th of Mannon, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 80: The ritual for Sister Willow
14th of Mannon, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 81: Trouble at the Briar Ring
15th of Mannon, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 82: My day as a crocodile
21st of Mannon, 128 Era of the Tree

The return of the twins (Entry 83)
22nd of Mannon, 128 Era of the Tree

Earth and Sky (Entry 84)
26th of Mannon, 128 Era of the Tree

Wolf's Rest betrayed (entry 85)
30th of Mannon

The end of a chapter (entry 86)
first of Edon, 128 Era of the Tree

On the road (Entry 87)
second of Edon, 128 Era of the Tree

The Red Knight (Entry 88)
7th of Edon, 128 Era of the Tree

Dear uncle… (Entry 89)
8th of Edon, 128 Era of the Tree

Cut the bridge (Entry 90)
10th of Edon, 128 Era of the Tree

Home (Entry 91)
13th of Edon, 128 Era of the Tree

A tale of two shadows (Entry 92)
16th of Edon, 128 Era of the Tree

Eileen Inkheart and the cursed village (Entry 93)
17th of Edon, 128 Era of the Tree

Nidhog at the end of the world (Entry 94)
18th of Edon, 128 Era of the Tree

Into Hillfield (Entry 95)
24th of Edon, 128 Era of the Tree

Did it have to be spiders? (Entry 96)
12th of Duna, 128 Era of the Tree

The burning tree (Entry 97)
13th of Duna, 128 Era of the Tree

Deep down the city (Entry 98)
14th of Duna, 128 Era of the Tree

Heavy is the crown (Entry 99)
21st of Duna, 128 Era of the Tree

Genie in a bottle (Entry 100)
24th of Duna, 128 Era of the Tree

Bad blood (Entry 101)
27th of Duna, 128 Era of the Tree

Think about it (Entry 102)
2nd of Hagan, 128 Era of the Tree

Arca Valon (Entry 103)
6th of Hagan, 128 Era of the Tree

Myrddin's grand plan (Entry 104)
10th of Hagan, 128 Era of the Tree

Nearly lost you (Entry 105)
11th of Hagan, 128 Era of the Tree

Who let the dogs out? (Entry 106)
18th of Hagan, 128 Era of the Tree

Land of confusion (Entry 107)
19th of Hagan, 128 Era of the Tree

Running up that hill (Entry 108)
20th of Hagan, 128 Era of the Tree

I know what I am (Entry 109)
24th of Hagan, 128 Era of the Tree

Welcome to paradise (Entry 110)
1st of solstice, 129 Era of the Tree

Come out and play (Entry 111)
1sh of Solstice, 129 Era of the Tree

This is war (Entry 112)
2nd of Solstice, 129 Era of the Tree

Good things go (Entry 113)
3rd of Solstice, 127 Era of the Tree

Into Hillfield (Entry 95)

Continue reading...

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