《Fatal Path 1》


 Portal in the Tundra

    Tundra is a strange sort of landscape. It is an environment on the edge of life and hospitality, teetering on the precipice of verdancy and lifelessness. It is a flatland with obvious life- grasses, lichens, moss, and even a good helping of shrubs can be found there, but no trees eke out a living here. While this is not universally true for all tundras, the Southern Antiadore Tundra had no love for plants over half a meter high. Permafrost keeps the groundwater locked away, barring all but the hardiest and most pioneering of plants and fungi. Of course, this allows flora that would have no place to survive a unique place to thrive. Extreme conditions where only the atypical can thrive.


    Yet with its extreme conditions, the Antiadore Tundra was an ocean of color. Lichens of blues and oranges covered the rocks where the green shrubs and yellow grasses could not live, while purple and gold mosses claimed any ground in-between. The grasses and shrubs claimed most of the tundra, but the small swells of a couple meters were explosions of bright and exotic lichens. Surrounding the vast tundra was a horseshoe ring of mountains, the Antiad Mountian Range, a serene yet imposing backdrop onto the normally placid tundra scene.


    The Portal


    Thunder cracked and lightning shone, a crack appeared in the air.


    Plants stood trembling and air froze, everything focused on the tear.


    The lightning danced amidst itself, twin curves within the sky.


    They ducked and bowed and wove between and formed an open eye.


    Intricate symbols appeared within the bounds, each glowing symbol shifting.


    The symbols pulled like arctic hounds with no leader, master missing.


    The newborn portal yawned agape, revealing a mouth of sands and slaughter.


    A foot appeared, and then the leg, then the body a moment after-


    then the lightning portal closes with no sign of its departure.


    The moment hung in the air as the helpless woman fell-


    Was it a moment? An eternity? Only time could tell.


    The tundra was dominated by lichens and mosses, with a good helping of tufts of grass- which would have made for a nice, cushioned landing. The mosses and lichens would do little for cushioning, but would give no complications either. Instead, the falling figure descended into a large clump of thorny green brambles. She let out a yelp of pain as she fell into the surprisingly dense thicket, and began to feel her consciousness slip from her. Her eyes sluggishly swept the sky above her for some sign of the portal that had spat her out, but found nothing as she slipped into unconsciousness.


    She lay in the thicket, heat and blood slowly seeping out of her unconscious body. Almost ten minutes later, she spluttered and coughed, consciousness returning to her in agonizing waves. She wheezed in pain for a minute, trying to take stock of what has happened to her. Her memory was in pieces, and she tried to mentally piece together what she had been through. She remembered her name, she was Elody Kyne. She remembered being in her shop. She remembered being grabbed, no, she was warned first. She remembered the glint of metal and the cold press of gauntlets into her skin. She remembered fear, not for herself, but for her apprentice, her adoptive little brother, her only living family.


    "Rudy..." Elody groaned through the pain. She knew she was in a bad spot, yet her fear was for her family in that moment, not herself. Feeling her blood running along her skin still, she knew she had to push that aside if she was going to see him again.


    Elody attempted to right herself, feeling green thorns draw fresh blood as she did so. The warm blood running down her skin was sharp contrast to the bitter cold air. Her now-tattered green dress and leather apron were made for life in the desert, not this hostile environment. She moved her hand, and felt a smooth powder covering her palm. She remembered her plan of escape, and the pieces began to click.


    She let out a low chuckle that escalated into wild, manic laughter. The buzz in her mind from the pain was turned on its head with her realization of triumph. Her kneejerk plan had worked! She had actually managed to defy the Consul, even as they had closed their fist around her! Sure, she had landed herself into some alien world that was freezing and pain, but it was freedom from the torture of wherever Consul Medeah threw people he wanted to keep alive rather than kill outright. All it took was a little powder meant for treating headaches, thrown into that pretty pattern on the floor at the wrong moment.


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.??Elody¡¯s laughter tapered off as the pain in her body reminded her that while she was out of the frying pan, she was not out of the fire. She tried little motions first, moving about to see how she was injured. The injuries were focused on her left side, which she had landed on. Pain shot out from her side and her left shoulder, but her legs suffered blessedly little. Her clothing was no defense against the brambles, leaving her covered in tiny cuts and scrapes.


    Grunting through the pain, she struggled to stand up in the shrubs, accepting every cut as lesser to the concern of her broken ribs. Her legs were a blend of brown and red as cuts persuaded blood to exit her body at any opportunity. Her lithe, ropy tail avoided the worst, but still suffered an errant cut. Finally, she made it out of the bramble, and collapsed back down.


    She needed to gather herself and her bearings. She needed fire, water, food, and shelter, in that order. Most pressing, however, was the need to stem the bleeding. Her clothes did little against the tundra chill, so she accepted the loss of her leggings, and began to tear them into makeshift bandages. The sheer, black material was far from an ideal bandage, but it would be better than nothing. She covered the worst of the wounds, but many small scratches she simply did not have the means to cover. This, however, did not mean she was content to leave them untreated.


    Elody was a pharmacist by trade. She spent her adolescence learning about plants and how they could be used medicinally. She could identify many useful specimens and could avoid harmful look-alikes. She had attended a school that gave her a thorough education on herbalism, so that she could find, identify, and harvest many common and useful herbs, roots, and other useful things. She had spent the last decade running her own shop, supplying her community with pills, poultices, and solutions. She could think of at least four different common herbs that could be individually used to staunch bleeding, aid clotting, or boost healing off the top of her head.


    For the first time, she looked around and assessed her surroundings, seeing the ocean of orange, red and teal lichen, and the distant Antiad Mountains. The adrenaline rush was starting to come down, and she began to feel just how truly cold it was, the breeze that whistled across the plain cooling her even further. She could make use of temperate forests or jungles, grasslands or arid foothills, even the seemingly barren deserts of the interior of her homeland. This tundra was not something she had ever known to exist. Never known it could exist. Elody imagined herself to be a very competent woman, and able to adapt to many unforeseen problems. She survived a plague, a lack of family, abject poverty, and now being disappeared! This tundra felt like a personal punishment to her, created just to spite her.


    A singular, vulgar exclamation spread across the tundra, and was swallowed by the vastness.


    As she looked around, she realized that a small rise was nearby. Perhaps there she could get a better lay of the land. She slowly brought herself to her feet, taking care to only put weight on her right arm as she unsteadily rose. Normally, such a small hill would be nothing, but in her injured state, it felt like she was climbing one of the distant mountains with the tiny steps she had to take. Reaching the top, she sighed, despite her pain, at the gorgeous expanse before her.


    Tundra is a strange sort of landscape. It is an environment on the edge of life and hospitality, teetering on the precipice of verdancy and lifelessness. It is a flatland with obvious life- grasses, lichens, moss, and even a good helping of shrubs can be found there, but none survived alone. The mosses and grasses and shrubs all share an unseen bond, helping as much as they compete. The lichens too, fungi and algae working in harmony. All this life existing in understanding, that it is those strange and counter-intuitive bonds that will let them thrive through the extreme.

 The Reason to Survive

    The yawning tundra before Elody was magnificent in its unassuming splendor. The blues and greens of the mosses fought the ocean of orange, teal, and red lichens, making a natural watercolor painting of an ocean on fire. A stream snaked its way through the artwork, marked partly by the sparkling surface, but also as a green line as brambles clutched to the small banks.


    On the opposing side was an odd sight- a patch of grasses and other plants that were separate from the bramble and lichens. The thought of herbs and grasses that might be of use to her crossed her mind, or if nothing else, some plant with fruiting bodies. If she was especially lucky, she thought some tubers might reside there, knowing nothing of the limitations of permafrost.


    She sat atop the rise, thinking her plan through. As worn out as she was, if she wanted to survive, she had to be patient and persistent. If there was one trait she knew she had in spades, it was persistence. What was her ultimate goal, she asked herself?


    ¡°I need to kill Orivaughn,¡± She growled through gritted teeth


    In spite of her current pain and surrounding beauty, the thought of the leader of Ade¡¯s oligarchs made her tail twitch. She took a deep breath in, then out. She knew she needed to focus on immediate survival first. When she had a fire going and some food roasting, then she could curse him and make a plan to mete her revenge.


    She assessed what she had on her person. She was wearing a peridot green dress, with a leather apron over it. She had been wearing her leggings, but those had been consumed to bandage some of her wounds. She pulled out the contents of her apron pocket and laid them out. She had two pieces of paper, one a folded list of items she was inventorying at her shop, and another was a crumpled receipt of purchase that one of her regulars had declined to take. She also had the keys to her shop, the brass glistening in the late evening light.


    Hold on, she thought. It should be getting dark- yet she was noticing the sun getting higher in the sky. Why was it suddenly morning again? The thought only occurred to her as she turned the jagged metal in her hand, but the observation was a blindingly obvious one. While this boded poorly for any kind of sleep schedule she had, at least she had more daylight to work with. The sun felt paltry here compared to her homeland, the warmth a trickle compared to Ade¡¯s flood of heat. She resumed taking stock.


    The other two items in her pouch were a grease pencil and a labeled bag of medication.


    Rudolf Kyne


    Enhancement Experiment Batch 14


    2mg Tablet


    Quantity: 60


    It contained a batch of medication that her assistant, Rudolf, had been making. He had been interested in making drugs that could enhance certain physiological characteristics, though he had yet to elaborate further than that. He had handed her the bag so that she could run an independent purity test, but she hadn¡¯t gotten to that by the time she was abducted. Medication whose purpose is unclear would be dangerous to take, assuming it did anything at all, so she immediately discarded the small blue pills. However, the waxed paper baggy itself could be useful for gathering herbs and other useful small items, so she kept it.


    The papers were useless on their own, though they would make for nice kindling once she attempted to start a fire. She didn¡¯t have any use for the pencil, so she just held onto it for now. Perhaps making markings on her surroundings would be useful later.


    Next, she assessed her surroundings for useful things. Obviously, the stream was a must go-to location. The water would be necessary for drinking and cleaning herself, but she¡¯d also need a fire. While there were brambles near the water, they would be green and difficult to light. As much as she loathed her entrance, that patch of brambles had many dead sprigs that she could use to kindle a fire. Anything she built wouldn¡¯t last long, but something was better than nothing. She would go and gather what she could, putting the twigs into her leather apron pouch, protecting her from their treacherous thorns, and then cross the stream at one of the relatively bramble- free crossings.


    Elody took a deep breath as she got ready to descend the rise back down towards the bramble patch. Descending was much harder than ascending, but it was a grim reality of necessity. As she gritted through the pain, she silently thanked the uncaring universe that there were no large predators in this desolate land.


    As the slope evened out again, she walked to the brambles. Her head was much clearer now, even though her entire left side throbbed with pain. She was clear-headed enough to realize that the area was actually quite noisy down here- the chirps and whines of insect life was abundant in this bramble patch. She didn¡¯t like the idea of eating bugs, but if that was what she had to in order to survive, then so be it.


    The tip of her tail was curved and made of a rough and leathery, and was able to curl into a tight loop. It was common practice for the Adstrani people to use it to hold small objects while their hands were occupied with more complicated tasks. She walked the perimeter of the brambles, not daring to set foot inside, plucking what dead branches she could see and reach. Her hands worked on breaking off safe portions of branches and twigs, and her tail reached up to grab the twigs and deposited them in her pouch. All this happened as naturally as walking for her.


    After a little over an hour, her apron pouch was full to bursting. She decided it was time to go to the grass patch she had seen. She looked to the rise she had used to scout the area, and used it as a landmark as she slowly navigated towards the river. It was hardly necessary, as after she got around the bramble patch, there wasn¡¯t any flora to impede her view of the thicket covered stream. She aimed for one of the less-thickly covered spots, and trotted over.


    Coming to the stream, she saw why this spot had less vegetation- it was where a wealth of river stones had been deposited. They varied in size from smaller than a marble to larger than Elody''s head. This created a shallow gravelly area she could cross in relative peace. Putting her bare feet in the water felt like stepping into ice, and she quickly dashed across. Daggers of pain lanced into her skin as she could swear she could feel her feet freezing. She cursed again, and realized she had to make a fire, and soon. The herbs could wait.


    Elody found an area clear enough of the grasses and larger vegetation that creating a wildfire was of negligible concern. Her feet were going numb by this point, and Elody was getting scared. She dumped all the kindling she had gathered, plus a few tufts of grass her tail had yanked out. She took the largest branch she had found, wriggled it into the earth so a small divot faced up, and dropped in a few pinches of grit. Next, she took a straight twig and her keys, using the jagged metal to remove the thorns as best she could. She needed to use the stick and divot to create friction, heating up the grit so she could deposit it onto the paper and start up a fire. She had never done this herself before, only having read about it in some adventure novels she had read. She prayed the technique would work at all.


    The process of spinning the stick was agonizing. On more occasions than she could count, she lost grip as she attempted to spin the stick between her palms, only to have the stick slip out from the shallow hole it was meant to rest in. For over an hour, she attempted until she broke down in tears. Her feet were numb, her left side was still screaming at her in agony, insects were swarming her, she was getting hungry and she couldn¡¯t even light a fire. She felt useless. She felt like a child again. She felt like nothing she could do would help anything. It was too much for her and she broke down, sobbing. The pain of her situation vented from her eyes, tears streaming down as she screamed into her hands. For the next twenty minutes, she bawled.


    It was another five minutes of dry eyes as she stared at the twigs in front of her. After half an hour of breaking down, she was beginning to regain control over herself. Her drive to survive kicked back in, and she tried again.


    This time, she used her tail to stabilize the stick, placing the loop of the tip at the top of the stick as she spun her hands down. She could get the stick spinning pretty fast, and while this hurt the tip of her tail, she was already in too much pain to care. She moved her hands down, then quickly re-positioned them at the top and repeated. She did this, over and over, her hands and tail tip going raw and her palms protested until she saw the grit glowing with latent heat.


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    She dropped the stick, quickly grabbed a piece of paper, and deposited the glowing grit on it. It stayed for a moment as the paper browned and blackened, but did not catch flame. She blew on it, gently, and the paper caught in a tiny flame as the ember fell through. Elated, Elody moved the paper into the clump of dry grasses as the flames quickly enveloped the kindling. Finally, she felt something was going right.


    Elody moved a bunch of the twigs around the flames, and the dry wood caught quickly. Without thinking, she threw the rest of the twigs and branches onto the flames as everything caught. She didn¡¯t notice the grease pencil that had been thrown into the pile until great billowing clouds of smoke emerged from the small fire. She spluttered and coughed and squeezed her eyes shut against the irritating smoke. Even so, she grinned as she had a source of warmth for now. She put her feet near the fire, then the rest of her. She got as close as she could without fear of burning herself, feeling the comforting warmth against the tundra chill.


    As a pillar of smoke rose above her, Elody relished finally getting to fall asleep.


    ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï


    Waking up from being cold is a distinctly unpleasant experience for any creature not made with the essence of ice within them. Waking up without ones bedsheets or clothes is bad, but waking up in a tundra in torn and threadbare clothing with wind howling into your ear at night is worse than most sleepless nights.


    Elody woke with a start, shivering and teeth chattering. She could still see embers smoldering in the small heap that was once the fire. The embers glowed dully under the night sky, just bright enough to be noticed in the darkness. Elody moved close to the embers, grateful they still radiated heat. The smoke was no longer an issue, nor the swarms of insects that had beset her the previous day. She huddled around the tiny island of warmth, noting that she had sensation back in her feet, though they were in terrible amounts of pain. She had a lot of that lately.


    She looked up at the sky, drinking in the appearance of the night sky. It had some similarities to what she knew, but only a few. She recognized some constellations that were normally only visible in the dry season, but there was an entire stretch of sky that seemed unfamiliar to her. She was by no means an astronomer; most of whom served the Goddess of Stars. There were also more stars than she was used to. Patches of glowing cloth formed from the myriad points, a scarf that made a ring in the night sky. Taking it all in, Elody couldn¡¯t keep herself from brimming with anger.


    Despite the beauty of the sky, the clarity only served as a reminder to Elody that she was very, very far from home. The damning cold, the pain of her body, the simple pleasure of the campfire warmth, all of it was another punch to the gut. She had lost everything in an afternoon. With nothing to do in the darkness and nothing to distract her, Elody lost herself to her anger.


    ¡°They were right. I always doubted them a little, and they were right,¡± Elody muttered to herself. Her shop in Ade had been host to a regular meeting of politically inclined individuals, namely those who opposed the Medeah Consulate, the oligarchs that ruled Ade and more.


    ¡°They warned me. They told me that Orivaughn would excise anyone in a moment if it benefitted him. They told me! And I did¡­ what? Nodded, tried to be polite? I¡­ I¡­¡± Elody began to cry for a few minutes as words failed to help her. Tears cannot last forever, however, and her monologue to herself resumed.


    ¡°What did I even DO?!¡± Elody screamed. ¡°What in the name of the myriad heavens does that even get Orivaughn? I¡¯m just¡­ some pharmacist! I make medicine and keep people alive! I keep my head low, and for what!¡±


    Elody¡¯s crying came without tears now, her face burning with rage despite the chill. Her words came now as a hoarse shriek, comprehensibility ceding ground to raw emotion. She stood up, neck craning upwards at the stellar tapestry above.


    ¡°Hear me, stars! Hear me, gods! I swear to you both that I will kill Orivaughn Medeah! I do not care what it takes, or what it costs, but I swear to you, stars, I will kill Orivaugn and tear down the Consulate around him! I will survive this barren hell, and I will see my vengeance met! And NOTHING! Will stand against that end!¡±


    Elody staggered, the forceful screaming leaving her light-headed. She collapsed into a sitting position, and began to sob once more.


    ¡°I can¡¯t die out here,¡± she sobbed into her hands. ¡°I can¡¯t. I can¡¯t, I can¡¯t, I can¡¯t.¡±


    Sitting next to the embers and exhausted from her exertion, Elody passed out again.


    ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï


    Elody woke up again as the sun peeked over the mountains, harsh sunlight shining directly into her eyes. She was cold, but the embers kept her warm enough that she stayed asleep until then. She was still in pain and cold, and now sore and hungry to boot. She was also parched, having shouted so much the prior night.


    She looked to the ashen remains of the campfire. There wasn¡¯t any light coming from it, but the barest heat still emerged, meaning some embers remained. She went and gathered some dry grasses from the nearby patch, and found some smaller twigs that seemed viable from the nearby bramble and tossed them on. The grasses caught, and she had some flames again. She warmed herself, then moved to the next task.


    She needed water and food, but luckily, there was the stream. The running water was crystal clear, but she did see a little plant life in the water, as some algaes danced in the gentle current. She cupped her hands and took a few sips. She wanted to bathe, but she knew from how bad her feet got yesterday that that was inadvisable at the moment. She spotted a few fish in the water, but they were tiny and few in number. She would revisit that as an option if the grassy area had nothing to offer.


    The grasses had no hidden tubers nor plants with fleshy stalks, everything being fibrous and resistant to the cold. There were, however, a few plants close to where the brambles and the grasses met that bore fruit. They were clusters of bright red berries hidden under leaves. The bright coloration enticed Elody, but she paced herself. She plucked one of the berries, and crushed it. She smeared the juice onto her lower lip, taking care not to ingest any. She waited several minutes, and was greeted by a stinging sensation.


    Elody tutted, and gathered some of the berries anyways. She would try to cook them, but that would happen after she got some of those small fish. Her stomach growled, but Elody knew she would be alright for now. It had not yet been a day, and while obtaining some food was important, she knew the real hunger had yet to begin.


    Elody walked to the stream, and found a patch of earth near where she saw the fish. It was bare and flat, promising a good perch to stand upon as she balanced over the water with her tail. In reality, the moment she moved to do so, her foot sank into the silty mud. The familiar dread of the cold ran across her foot and up her shin. The mud went surprisingly deep, reaching over halfway up to her knee, and she was stuck fast.


    Shouting was far from an ideal solution. She hadn¡¯t seen any predators yet, but that didn¡¯t rule out their existence. On the other hand, she was stuck, and would die of hypothermia very fast if she couldn¡¯t attract help somehow. Unable to think of a better plan, she yelled for help.


    It was several minutes of prolonged shouting, voice growing hoarse with the effort. She didn¡¯t dare slake her thirst with the ice-cold water when she was already losing body heat fast. She kept shouting for as long as she could manage. In the end, it wasn¡¯t her voice that gave out, but her energy that had been sapped by the frigid water.


    Suddenly, a rustling could be heard in the bramble. Something large was moving in the thicket. She gathered the energy to attempt to utter a few words, but only a faint rasp came out. The rustling grew closer, and the thicket parted.


    What stood there was an enormous monster, like someone had taken an elk and gave it a bipedal form, giving it enormous rear haunches, and replacing its front feet with knuckle-dragging hands. It stood over two meters tall while hunching, and it turned to look at Elody. Its face was a short, wide snout, its fur such a dark brown she almost thought it black. The eyes were large and had rectangular slits for pupils, yet forwards facing in the manner of a predator. It had large, curving antlers that looked like hands, reaching out to grasp the sky above it. It made a deep, guttural sound as it spotted Elody.


    Elody was stricken with fear, but all her energy was spent. She couldn''t move besides shivering. She again tried to speak, but she opened her mouth to emit only a rasp.


    The creature made another growl, then reached out for the helpless woman.

 Travelling Merchant

    Samengawin tapped his foot against the packed earth as he waited. He regarded himself a patient man, but even he had his limits. He pulled his right sleeve back to reveal a wristwatch- a convenient trinket he¡¯d picked up at a Snif town. A radial dial went around, indicating what hour it was in the day, and moved between the hours to give an idea how long until the next. He was told a tiny rotostone kept it moving apace, but Sam knew nothing of these things. All he knew was it worked well enough, and he was satisfied by that.


    The holdup was less satisfying to him. He stood in front of his wagon, side opened to display many wares that he had for sale. Sam was a traveling merchant, having been banished from his homeland for ¡°disrupting the public order¡±. He still didn¡¯t get it, but was past his grumbling days and now traveled from town to city to village, buying up strange and exotic items to trade for bulk necessities for cheap. The Snif town was his previous stop, having sold many basic goods, while purchasing a mixture of his own sundries as well as a hefty number of neat contraptions. He had only a cursory understanding how any of them worked, but that¡¯s all it took to pawn them off on someone whose curiosity got the better of their wallet. His favorite kind of customer.


    He had come to this village for two reasons- One, to stock up on essentials as he made the long trek to the next city to the north. He was hoping one he could trade a few of the things he picked up from the Snif artisans for what he needed, but the village folk couldn¡¯t understand him and seemed disinterested in the odd clumps of metal.


    These people were clearly intelligent, but didn''t know speak any language he knew. Their language sounded like grunts and bellows to him, but that only meant that he couldn''t speak directly to them. He had pantomimed a little, and that was enough to make a few basic transactions, but he simply didn¡¯t have enough to offer to get what he needed. If he could just speak to them, he felt, then he would be able to make some quality trades, but that was out of reach, and so he settled for what he could get.


    There had been a large commotion where the villagers appeared to be looking for someone. One of them- a smaller villager who still towered over Sam by well over a meter- made placating gestures, as if beckoning for him to wait. And so, Sam stood here, waiting to see what in the world was going on. If nothing else, he wanted to leave here with a story.


    The villagers were all enormous, standing anywhere between two and three meters tall, some with bony protrusions from the sides of their heads. Sam had no idea what these people were called, but as he had no way to ask, he thought about it no further.


    The villager who had urged him to wait approached again. This one had no protrusions, and had a scar on their side, making them easy to identify. Sam looked into their eyes, slightly put off by the rectangular pupils. As they saw him make eye contact, they pointed to the sun.


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Sam said, unfolding his arms into a half shrug. ¡°What about it?¡±


    The villager slowly took their arm in a slow motion, drawing a line from the sun¡¯s current point to the horizon. It looked to him for understanding.


    ¡°Aw hell,¡± Sam said, facepalming. ¡°This gonna take all day? Arright, ya big beastie. Y¡¯all been real kind to me, despite the whole ''not understanding''. I¡¯ll wait.¡±


    Sam put his hands out in the same placating gesture, trying to imitate the idea of ¡®wait¡¯, then leaned back against his wagon. He then pointed at the sun and drew the same line to the horizon.


    The villager immediately stood up with more energy, and began to swivel slightly to the left and right, letting out small grunts as it did so, before turning to leave.


    Sam sighed, giving a shake of the head as he reached up to his display. He grabbed a toy, and rearranged the small colorful cube to pass the time.


    ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Sam had long given up on the damnable cube, swearing that returning it to an orderly state was impossible, when two of the villagers came up to his wagon. The sun¡¯s last rays were disappearing into the distant mountains, so he figured that these were the people he needed to meet.


    One of the two was clearly elderly, their fur greyed and drooping with aged, saggy skin. The other appeared to be a youth, at least compared to the other. Sam had no basis for comparison with these far-flung peoples. The elderly one let out a few long, drawn out groans as it lifted one enormous hand towards the other in a gesture that universally spoke, ¡®go ahead¡¯. The younger sat back on its haunches, and took out what appeared to be a necklace and a silver hoop. The necklace was small, akin to a choker, featuring a plate on the front. The silver hoop had a small bauble that hung off of it. Both had tiny inscriptions carved into them that glowed a faint pink when they put them on. Sam had no idea what these items did, but surely something that intricate and glowy was somehow magical. Of more interest to him was how rare and valuable such things were, and his attention immediately was glued onto them.


    The young one took a few moments to fasten the choker around their neck. As they did so, their small grunts of exertion took on an odd tone. After they had done so, they took the hoop and placed it around one of their ears, the bauble getting placed inside the ear. They cleared their throat, and spoke a single word.


    ¡°Speak.¡±


    Sam shook his head. He could swear he heard the word ¡®Speak¡¯, but also heard the gutteral sound that made up their normal speech.


    ¡°What am I, yer pet?¡± Sam said, before the idea that this villager could actually understand him occurred to him. When it did just a moment later, he paled.


    ¡°Wait, wait, waitaminute. Sorry, I was just ah, caught a lil off guard there for a moment,¡± Sam quickly corrected. ¡°So can you understand me?¡±


    The villagers ears flicked a few times, then they responded.


    ¡°Yes,¡± came the low, smooth voice, layered over the even lower growls, ¡°I understand you. My name is HuuuaaeeEEEERRRrr-¡±


    Sam clapped his hands over his ears as the voice cut out to just the sound underneath, a very loud, trumpeting sound that hurt to hear.


    ¡°Hmm,¡± came the low voice again, ¡°I don¡¯t think that worked as intended. I will need to work on that soon. I apologize. Is the rest of my speech understandable?¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Sam began, slowly drawing his hands from his ears. ¡°Yeah, I think so. The hearin¡¯ double is weird, but I at least know what yer saying now. Is that necklace letting you talk? Like a translator?¡±


    Seeing the face of one of these villagers screw into confusion was an amusing sight to behold, and Sam had to restrain laughter.


    "That word, what does it mean?" They asked Sam.


    "Translator? Like a person or thing that translates one language to another?" Sam offered.


    They paused, taking what Sam said in, then asked Sam to repeat the word. Instead of confusion, their face brightened with understanding.


    "Much better. It must not be able tell me what I do not already know. Thank you, stranger."


    Sam said as he put a hand forward to shake. ¡°My name¡¯s Sam. Travellin¡¯ merchant, at yer service. You already told me yer name, but I don''t think I can pronounce that. Anything else I can call you? Maybe just Hugh? That''s the first part of yer name, or close enough, right?"


    "Hugh is fine," Hugh agreed as he shook Sam''s proffered hand. Despite all the difficulties of language, the concept of a handshake transcended all boundaries of culture and speech.


    "This is Maril," Hugh continued as he gestured to the elderly villager. "She is having me translate, as you said, while-"


    Hugh was cut off by the bellow of another of the villagers calling for help from the edge of the village. Maril dashed off without any hesitation. Sam made a mental note that advanced age did not seem to impact these people''s athleticism. Hugh hesitated before following Maril.


    ¡°Someone needs help. We must go, but will return soon,¡± Hugh told Sam, before rushing off to the sound where villagers were gathering.


    ¡°Guess I''ll just wait some more. Figures.¡± Sam muttered unhappily as he leaned back again. He glanced at the cube of jumbled colors disdainfully.


    "Maybe when they get back I can trick them into taking you off my hands."

 Recuperation and Recollection

    Elody woke with a start. She attempted to sit upright, but the pain shooting through her body made a strong argument to lay back down. She opened her eyes, seeing a roof above her head, concave and dark. The mottled brown of the ceiling domed outwards and shifted to a more consistent white less than halfway to the ground.


    As she looked down towards the ground, she saw that there were figures crouched next to her, and Elody yelped as she registered them being so close to her. One was similar to the creature that had taken her here, another was a short humanoid she couldn''t identify.


    ¡°How are you feeling?¡± Came a low voice, layered over a quiet rumble. The monstrous one was speaking to her from her right side. It pushed a cup towards her. ¡°Water.¡±


    Elody blinked and suppressed her rising fear. If they wanted to hurt her, they would have done so already. Instead, she was in a hilariously oversized bedroll and being given water. She knew nothing about her circumstances, but understood the hospitality she was being given, and was immediately grateful.


    ¡°I¡­¡± Elody began, stopping as she heard her own raspy voice. Barely any sound came out, and stopped trying to speak. She slowly reached with her good arm, and took the cup. With slow, careful sips, she drank until the cup was drained.


    The short man said something in a language that she could recognize the sounds of, but didn¡¯t actually understand. She tried to think what language it might be, but in her addled state, she couldn''t place it. It sounded so silly to her, a constant drawling sound as he spoke. The other figure nodded at him, then turned to Elody.


    ¡°Pardon me,¡± They asked, ¡°But what language do you speak?¡±


    Elody goggled at them, shocked that she could understand him. It was a strange understanding, though, as though he were speaking twice at once, and she only understood one of the two.


    ¡°Adstrani,¡± She croaked.


    ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± The short man exclaimed, now speaking a language Elody understood. It wasn''t Adstrani, but rather a lingua franca that was used frequently by traders, travelers, and ambassadors. Most people that Elody knew were familiar with the language in passing, but Elody had spent time learning it, since she ran a shop. Had run a shop, she bitterly remembered.


    ¡°Yer those folk from that desert way up north, right? You gotta tail back there? Walled cities and all?¡± He elaborated. He spoke with a heavy drawl, an accent that Elody recognized, but couldn''t quite place.


    ¡°Yes!¡± Elody replied, happy to have some kind of connection back to her home, as tenuous as it may be. ¡°Except for the northern part. I''m from the southern Pelera desert region.¡±


    The man shrugged.


    ¡°North of where I come from, then. Name¡¯s Sam, travelling merchant and evidently the other person who can talk to you. This big ol¡¯ softie here is Hugh. He¡¯s got a magical doohickey that lets him talk to others no matter the language. Don¡¯t ask how it works, he won¡¯t shut up about it. Oh, and he¡¯s got an earring that lets him understand you. Again, don¡¯t ask.¡±


    Hugh waved.


    ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you both,¡± Elody said, before her face took on a dour expression. "Well, sort of. I would much rather not be here at all, really."


    ¡°You are still in bad shape,¡± Hugh said, ¡°Maril came by while you were asleep and dressed your wounds. She would like to have some words with you, once we tell her that you are okay. I will stand in, as Sam told me, as a translator."


    A loud grumble emanated from Elody''s midsection.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°I hate to beg, but would it be possible to get anything to eat? I haven¡¯t eaten in¡­¡± Elody paused, realizing she had no idea how long she had been asleep. ¡°A long time.¡±


    Hugh nodded and left the small building, leaving Sam and Elody alone. For a few minutes, neither said anything. Elody tried to get comfortable in the oversized bedroll, but couldn''t find a good position. Sam showed no signs of interest, but eventually tired of the awkward silence.


    ¡°So what¡¯s yer name? You never did say.¡±


    ¡°My name is Elody," she said, propping herself up on her elbows. It still wasn''t comfortable, but hurt her neck this way. "Its nice to meet you, I suppose? This isn¡¯t what I¡¯d call the best circumstances to meet under.¡±


    ¡°Elody,?¡± Sam repeated. ¡°Just Elody? Any surname?¡±


    ¡°Elody Kyne.¡±


    ¡°Kyne, huh? That''s a funny name.¡± Sam said with a smirk.


    "What''s funny about my name?" Elody asked.


    "Where I come from, ¡®Kyne¡¯ means ¡®someone¡¯ or ''anyone''," Sam chuckled. "It sounds like a bad attempt to make a fake identity.¡±


    "No, nothing like that! I¡¯m just... Out of sorts, still. Bad day. Days. However long." She took a breath to ground herself, and changed the topic away from herself. ¡°What about you? Is your name just ¡®Sam¡¯?¡±


    "Sam''s short for ''Samengawin," Sam said with a sheepish expression. "I don''t usually tell folks, but I''m feelin'' pity for you."


    ¡°No surname?¡± Elody asked with a smile.


    ¡°We don¡¯t do surnames. We¡¯re the odd ones of the world, I know. We prefer mononyms.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s ¡®We¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Timberfolk,,¡± Sam said with another one-armed shrug. ¡°Bit short an¡¯ stocky compared to other folks, live up in enormous trees and in a big ol¡¯ happy family?¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Elody exclaimed, sitting up so quickly that spikes of pain went shooting through her body. She recovered, and more slowly sat up before continuing. ¡°You¡¯re dwarves!¡±


    Sam¡¯s eyes, previously pleasant and meandering, became sharp. Elody could feel Sam¡¯s gaze piercing into her as his voice became flinty.


    ¡°You call me that again, and I¡¯ll make sure your recovery time is doubled,¡± Sam said, then letting his voice soften again. ¡°But, yer hurt enough, so I¡¯ll let you off with a warning. Call us Timben or Timbs, or even damn treehuggers, just not that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m,¡± Elody¡¯s voice stuttered, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t know-¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine. Just another foreign moron.¡±


    ¡°I just- I thought that¡¯s what you were called? I didn¡¯t mean to offend, really. What¡¯s wrong with being called dw-, er, with that term?¡±


    ¡°We ain¡¯t been called ¡®Dwarfs¡¯ for the better part of a millennium now! And even then, it just means ¡®really short people¡¯. Ain¡¯t that kind of rude, Elody? We ain¡¯t even the shortest folk around! We¡¯re just shy of average, yet everyone else tries to get off calling us the small people. Kiss my ass.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m,¡± Elody choked up again with the confrontation, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t know¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Sam said with finality, ¡°Let¡¯s talk ¡®bout something bit comfier, huh? Whaddya do, Elody?¡±


    Elody grasped the conversational thread handed to her like it was a lifeline thrown to a drowning sailor.


    ¡°I¡¯m a pharmacist. I take herbs, plants, and other compounds, either magical or mundane, and grind them, mix them, or purify them in order to make medicines for ailments and treatments for people,¡± Elody explained.


    Sam¡¯s expression perked up at this.


    ¡°Yer a trained professional?¡± Sam asked.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been doing this for almost a decade now. I¡¯m among the best in my city," She said, hanging her head. "Was. Was the best in my city."


    ¡°How in the world did you end up all the way out here, then?¡± Sam asked.


    "Truthfully, I''m not sure. I''ve only had a little time to think about it, really. I''ve been trying my best not to die and doing a rather poor job. The last thing I recall is-"


    "Wait," Sam cut her off. "Is this gonna be really involved?"


    "Maybe? I guess?" Elody replied. "Why?"


    "Might want to save it for the other two when they get back," he explained. "I''m sure they''ll want to hear, too."

 The Only Solution Is Time

    Hugh and his mentor, Maril, returned through the woven grass curtain that served as a door. Elody had not seen Maril, having only been exposed to Hugh and whomever had rescued her from the wilderness. Despite this, Elody could only surmise that she was very old, given her haggard appearance. She was larger than Hugh, but not by much. She gathered that this must be Maril, the mentor that Hugh had previously mentioned.


    The two both sat down on the ground, legs folded to the side as they bowed gently to Elody. Elody felt unsure of herself, questioning whether or not she ought to bow in return or not, or whether she was capable in her current state. She tried anyways, not wanting to seem disrespectful, bowing her head as far it would let her.


    Maril began speaking, a sound similar to the ones Hugh and the others made, but raspier and harder for her to make. Elody had no idea what kind of people these were, but inwardly chuckled that age is as humbling a process for anyone. Maril spoke for a short while, then stopped, allowing Hugh to begin translating for Elody and Sam.


    ¡°Blessed breath and good stride. I am Maril Bindherb, our Giver to the Gods. Beside me is my pupil, Hugh Stonegazer. He will speak my words that you may understand, and tell me yours in turn."


    "It is an honor to meet you," Elody said. She spoke with uncertainty that slowly thawed as she went on. "My name is Elody Kyne. I''m not used to being the guest rather than the host, so thank you for your hospitality."


    Elody once again tried to bow, only for Maril to put a flat palm out; a gesture to stop. Elody returned to her propped up position and instead settled for a nod.


    "You are a strange one," Hugh translated for Maril, "You are not one of us, nor one of our neighbors. You appear different than anything we have seen. We know of the rats and cats, lizards and tree dwellers, such as our other guest here. You have the color of dark clay, but no fur to speak of, so the cold must bite. You have a tail, but unlike one I have ever seen before. Where are you from?"


    "North," Elody said, remembering what Sam had mentioned, "Far north. I come from a land of sand and sunlight. The sunlight here isn''t the same as where I am from. You''re right, the cold does bite me, er, Giver?"


    "Maril is fine. If you come from so far away, how did you arrive here?"


    Elody sat and thought about what she should say next. Maril didn''t seem to think she was suspicious, but she had no idea what that would even look like on these huge, hulking elk people. She wanted to be sure to tell only as much as was needed to avoid looking like she was concealing the truth, while not revealing anything she didn''t have to.


    "Ultimately, I''m not certain," Elody began. "My memory is a bit hazy, but I guess it was... magic? I don''t know what else it could be. Nothing else makes sense. I was taken by some men, and dragged to a room with a huge circle in it. It was intricate, and it glowed. I threw some dust at it as they threw me at it and it glowed in a rainbow of colors. It opened up, and then I was out there."


    Hugh did not translate this immediately, instead reaching up to touch the choker at his neck. Maril turned to him and asked him something to which he nodded. She said nothing for a while, sitting in contemplation. Elody took the opportunity to ask a question of her own.


    "I know that I''m foreign to you, being Adstrani and all, but your kind is also foreign to me. What can I call you? Your kind of people I mean? Or, gods, there''s no good way of asking this is there? Don''t translate that last part, Hugh, please, this is actually really embarrassing right now. Just, what do I call you?"


    Hugh chuckled, a low rumbling sound.


    "We call ourselves ¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï," Hugh replied.


    Two things came out of Hugh''s mouth with that line. There was the sound of his native speech, that low growl and groan that made up his mother tongue, normally layered underneath the understandable speech. The other thing stopped being sound and was instead a sensation, as though someone had attempted to cram a dozen concepts forcibly into Elody''s head without any comprehension to tie them together. She clutched at her head, grimacing as her mind translated the confusing mess into lancing pain. It lasted only a moment, but was still thoroughly unpleasant. Elody looked back up to see Sam was also rubbing his temples.


    "It was that bad for you too, right?" Elody asked.


    Sam grunted affirmatively as he continued to massage his temples.


    "Does that name perhaps mean anything?" Elody asked Hugh, praying that he didn''t repeat whatever that was.


    "It means Those-Who-Tread-Upon-The-Frost-Hardened-Ground. That is an incomplete, but sufficient explanation of its meaning," Hugh answered. Maril nodded beside him in confirmation.


    "That''s a bit of a mouthful to say every time," Elody noted. "May I call you Frostwalkers, as shorthand?"


    Hugh squinted at Elody as though she were playing a game he did not understand. Maril looked to Hugh for a translation, but Hugh only shook his head.


    "Yes, we are Frostwalkers," He agreed, matter-of-factly.


    Elody was internally elated to have a term for these people, so that she no longer had to work around the idea of "Elk monster" when considering them. Despite their appearances, the Frostwalkers had been extremely kind to her thus far, and Elody wanted to ensure that she treated them as respectfully as was possible. If she were to be honest with herself, she would realize she felt indebted to the Frostwalkers. However, she was acutely aware that she could do no more than recuperate, and pushed it from her mind.


    The Frostwalkers had just as many questions about Elody as she did about them. They went back and forth, asking each other questions, both the astute and the embarrassingly obvious, until everyone was satisfied.


    The Frostwalkers, as Elody discovered, were a people spread over a vast distance, with many villages dotting the seemingly endless tundra. They called it the Antiadore Tundra, and much to her surprise, was near the southern pole of the world. The Antiad Mountains formed a star-like shape near the pole, with spokes of ridges reaching far north, defining the boundaries of the tundra. This village- which was only referred to as ¡°The Village¡± by the inhabitants- was one of many that ringed the northern edge of the tundra, where forests grew. Even the Frostwalkers, accustomed to the cold and frugal living, stayed out of the tundra proper and clung to the forested taiga. It was common practice to have members venture into the tundra for various resources. It was during one such venture that one of the villagers saw the smoky pillar of Elody¡¯s fire that led to her rescue.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.??Elody awkwardly admitted her mistake in letting the grease pencil fall into her fire that led to the accidental signal fire. As grateful as she was to live, she hated that she was one writing implement away from death. When she had seen that first Frostwalker, whose name was Milo, coming to save her, she thought that it was already over.


    Her hosts had many questions about her homeland, the city of Ade. Elody told them of the great walls that encapsulated the city, and the people that lived within it. She told them of her pharmacy and how she helped keep people alive and healthy, and help them recover from injury and ailment. This idea tickled Maril as she told Elody about several plants that might have helped her out in the tundra, much to Elody''s chagrin. Elody told them of the Medeah Consul, how they maintained a rigorous social structure through fear and manipulation, despite being flagrantly exempt from any such stricture themselves, and of her burning resentment for Orivaughn. She hadn''t always spoken against them so ardently, but in light of her recent traumas, she had to restrain her brimming anger to stay comprehensible.


    Her description of her homeland was far more pleasant, and shocked Hugh and Maril. The Pelera desert was a place of red sands and rocky outcrops- the city of Ade being built on one enormous outcrop. While the plants of the tundra clung to one extreme, she spoke of the great variety of plants from her homeland- from the fields of flowers that appeared in the spring, only to dry out in summer, leaving only vast scrublands until spring returned the next year, to forests of giant cacti that were revered for their beauty and raw materials. Rocky mountains that jutted from the sands to reach into the sky, the largest of which were covered by forests and plants just like the mountains nearby were capped with snow. To the Frostwalkers, it may as well been a different world entirely.


    During the questioning, another Frostwalker had come to bring a bowl of stew for each of the four of them. It was a thick stew with many roasted vegetables floating in a savory broth, with a plethora of large meat chunks that soaked in the flavorful herbs. Elody couldn''t help but note that a good helping of salt would have made the dish perfect. Still, the meaty stew gave her all the energy she had lacked since her sudden departure. Sensing the background questions winding down, she shifted focus back to the present.


    ¡°I need to get back to Ade. Do you know how I could get back?¡± Elody asked.


    Hugh and Maril looked at each other, and then shook their heads. Hugh opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted.


    ¡°I think I can help there.¡±


    Everyone looked to Sam, who had been a wallflower through the entire meeting.


    ¡°I¡¯m a travellin¡¯ merchant. Y¡¯all don¡¯t think I don¡¯t have maps with me? I do. I got a mostly empty wagon right now, and you can hop on board with me. You just said you got an employable skill- I can make use of you. Work for me, and I¡¯ll get you all the way up to Ade as fast as it makes sense. Can¡¯t promise a straight line, but anyone who does is a conman.¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± Elody said with a shake of her head, ¡°Work for you? What would that even mean?¡±


    ¡°Well, you can identify common useful plants, right? As soon as we¡¯re out of this frost-blasted land- no offense dear hosts- I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll be handy. Plus you can process some of them, right? I don¡¯t have a mortar ¡®n pestle, but I¡¯m confident we can find one. Actually, Hugh, do y¡¯all got one we could trade for?"


    Hugh confirmed, and turned to translate for Maril. Elody had become accustomed to the pattern of telling Hugh something, him telling Maril, then waiting as the reply got back. This was different, just a conversation between Hugh and Maril. There were several minutes of back and forth as they conversed, topic evidently straying from the previous topic based on the increasingly strained tones. Elody looked to Sam for any kind of help. All he could offer was a shrug. As it continued, Hugh''s expression worsened, his ears going back, his posture slacking and eyes becoming dull. After about five minutes of conversation, Hugh finally turned to the other two, his face an tumult of emotions.


    ¡°Sam,¡± He began slowly, ¡°We would like to alter the deal you have offered.¡±


    Sam raised an eyebrow at this. ¡°The offer between me and Elody?¡±


    ¡°Yes," Hugh responded with a choked up throat. He fought through his emotions to deliver the message. "Maril has informed me that I am to leave the village. For an extended period of time.¡±


    Elody goggled, understanding the magnitude of what had just been dropped onto Hugh. Sam merely looked on with a flat gaze.


    ¡°So yer wanting to come with me, then,¡± Sam stated, rather than asking.


    ¡°This has- apparently- been discussed by the village elders for, some some time now,¡± Hugh continued. ¡°While the time and means by which I would be departing, was uncertain, Maril assures me that this presents the best opportunity.¡±


    Once again, the two conversed, still incomprehensible to the two visitors. Hugh let out a sound that began as a high keening, before being joined by lower tones as he broke into an unmistakable sob. Tears streamed out of Hugh''s eyes as he wailed. Maril merely placed one of her withered hands on his knee and let him cry.


    "Get it all out," Sam said, only to be shushed by Elody.


    It took several minutes for the tears to come to an end. No one said anything when it stopped, everyone silently agreeing that Hugh should be the one to continue. Rather than say anything, Hugh simply sat there, staring off at nothing in particular as he processed the new information. Marin sensed that Hugh needed prompting, and broke the unspoken agreement to instruct him. Bleary-eyed, Hugh turned to speak to Sam, voice drained of enthusiasm.


    ¡°Samengawin, esteemed visitor. Please take my pupil, Hugh Stonegazer, with you on your journey, so that he may continue his training. Please keep him safe and give him what he needs to learn. In return, we will give you supplies and be grateful for your assistance. He will work for you. He will earn his stay."


    Despite the words coming from Hugh''s mouth, they were obviously Marin''s words, repeated if not verbatim, then as close as the magical translation would allow. Hugh spoke them with a hollow voice, not hearing what he was saying. He was still lost in the tumult of emotions that his sudden exile had stirred up.


    Elody looked to Sam, expecting him to ask about details, such as what such training even was. Instead, he merely shrugged and said, ¡°Arright.¡±


    ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï


    They weren''t able to depart immediately, with the state Elody was in. Maril said she would need two days to rest and recover until she could travel, and even then she would have to take care not to aggravate her broken ribs while they healed. This was little better than a guess, given Maril''s lack of experience with non-Frostwalker physiology, but both Maril and Elody knew that, ultimately, the only solution was time.


    Sam used this time to collect the supplies he had been promised as well as conduct a few honest trades, now that he had a translator. He was given enough preserved food to last the three of them roughly two months on the road, though Sam knew that it should only be several weeks to their first destination. He was able to trade off some of the toys and several alloy tools for large collections of local plants. To the Frostwalkers, some of these plants were little better than weeds. To the wider world, however, Sam knew he could sell even a fraction of some of these exotic plants for a tidy profit.


    Hugh threw himself into preparation. He was both Sam¡¯s translator on demand and main mover of large crates, but he did both without question nor complaint. It was plain for all to see that he was trying to forget his new and sudden reality with these menial tasks.


    When the time to leave finally arrived, there was no fanfare nor sendoff for Hugh, apart from Marin and Hugh''s father. Elody wondered where his mother was, but dared not ask Hugh now. It was odd to see Hugh next to his father. His father was only slightly taller, but boasted a similar rack of antlers as Milo had. Hugh had no antlers, another question Elody put away for later.


    Hugh and his father embraced for a long time as they spoke. Despite being able to direct who could understand him when he spoke with the choker on, Hugh had kept it off for this exchange. Despite being almost abreast with him, Hugh acted as though Maril wasn''t there, speaking only towards his father. When they finally separated, Hugh wore the same hollow expression that he wore when Maril informed him of his exile.


    "Let''s go," Hugh said flatly as he put his choker back on. He sat in the back of the wagon, alone with the cargo.


    "I hope he''s going to be okay," Elody said to the open air.


    "It''s just like your ribs," Sam said callously as he passed her, "The only solution is time."

 Reason for Return

    The three set off from the village in the morning, riding in the spacious wagon. It was rather large, with a front cabin that was enclosed, followed by a large open back, filled with crates, a few barrels, and other containers for cargo. The cabin had enough room to seat four people of Sam¡¯s size normally, and while Elody fit well enough, Hugh had some trouble fitting. They had been able to take the seats on the left and readjust them for Hugh¡¯s generous frame. Sam sat in the front right, Elody directly behind him, while Hugh had the whole left side.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be a bit odd having people with me for this long,¡± Sam said idly, not long after taking off from the village. ¡°I¡¯ve had hitchhikers, sure, but this will be interesting. We¡¯ll hafta pick up some tents in the Snif territories, if we can. Til then, we sleep in here.¡±


    Hugh said nothing. He hadn¡¯t said anything since leaving the village, and was looking rather morose.


    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you have any spare blankets?¡± Elody asked.


    ¡°Yeah, I got an extra, but we¡¯ll wanna get more.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t seem very well prepared for this.¡±


    ¡°Well gee, why didn¡¯t I plan for not one, but two extra whole people travelllin¡¯ with me when I¡¯ve been operatin¡¯ solo for years now?¡± Sam scoffed. ¡°Don¡¯t you fret. Its several days to the first Snif village, but we¡¯ll manage.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s Snif?¡± Elody asked. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of them before.¡±


    ¡°Oh, them. Some of the Ratfolk nations down here. That¡¯s probably what you¡¯ve heard them called, but they have a whole slew of factions. Far from unified, y¡¯know? The two big ones are the Snif and the Rhyth, and they¡¯re, ah, not what you¡¯d call on friendly terms. Not at war, so to speak, but they wouldn¡¯t talk to a guy tryin¡¯ to hawk Snif tools and wares, much less buy anythin¡¯,¡± Sam explained.


    ¡°Then don¡¯t go there. Whats the issue?¡±


    ¡°Well the original plan was to swing down here to these Frostwalker villages, sell them these hard to get, yet high quality tools for some esoteric materials, then swing back up north through the Rhyth towns once I was cleaned out of Snif paraphenalia. But then, on my first village no less, I hit something of a snag or two,¡± Sam elaborated, giving Elody a wry look.


    ¡°Oh. Right,¡± Elody said. ¡°At least we¡¯re headed north. Whats our plan to get to Ade?¡±


    ¡°Impatient much? Arright, hold on, lemme grab the maps. You said that''s, what, in the Pelera Desert?¡±


    ¡°The Pelera Desert, that''s right," Elody echoed. "How far is that from here?¡±


    ¡°A small continent and an ocean away, that¡¯s what. We¡¯re gonna have to head up and find a port to ship out of. I know a guy in North Wella, port city southwest of Timberfolk lands. Its on the a river flows right out into the sea; He oughta help us out. He¡¯s helped me around a few times before. I dunno if he can get us all the way to your home, but taking the river will cut our time down by a third,¡± Sam said.


    Sam pulled the maps from a small compartment above the front window of the cabin. He struggled to keep them in his hand as they were all in a messy pile with no rhyme nor reason. He handed some to Elody.


    ¡°Here, pick out any that have places you recognize,¡± He ordered.


    Elody did as she was asked, and shuffled through the maps with Sam. The maps ranged from new ones to ones that were on the edge of crumbling, from ones with entire continents to specific towns and street names written all over. After several minutes, she found two suitable maps, one that showed the whole continent that featured the Pelera Desert covering the southern third, and one that featured many of the southern coast cities, as well as Ade off towards the northern edge.


    ¡°Here, these two,¡± Elody said, pushing the two at Sam.


    Sam had been sorting his own maps, putting aside nearly a half dozen when Elody interrupted him. He put down the remaining stack and took a closer look.


    ¡°Right here,¡± Elody said, pointing at Ade on the second map.


    ¡°Ade, Ade, Ade¡­ Wait, that¡¯s Ade? I thought Ade was spelled¡­ I dunno, Ah-day or somethin¡¯! Thought that town was called ¡®Aid¡¯!¡± Sam complained.


    Elody put her head in her hands and groaned. ¡°No, no, just, no.¡±


    "Sounds like y''all have yer own Laskavan!" Sam laughed.


    "What''s wrong with Laskavan? I thought that''s the largest Timberfolk city," Elody asked with visible confusion.


    "Firstly, it''s not said ''Laskavan'', it''s said ''Lass-caven''. Cuz'' it was the last cavern," Sam said, over-enunciating to bypass his accent. "Las'' Cave''n. Laskavan. Secondly, we don''t call them cities, we call them communes. Just what its called, weird hearing you call it a a city."


    Elody looked like she had been caught up in a whirlwind for a moment, then laughed.


    "Gods, I must have sounded stupid, saying it wrong!"


    "Yup," Sam said matter-of-factly.


    "Well then realize," she said, pointing an accusatory finger at Sam, "Just how stupid you sounded calling my home ''Aid''!"


    The two looked at each other for a moment, each wearing an exaggerated stern expression. After a few moments of over-the-top expressions, they broke character, both laughing so hard they cried.


    ¡°Anyways, anyways" Sam said, wiping away a tear, "We have a fairly good idea how to travel now. Look here.¡±


    Sam said as he laid out several other maps, laying them out onto the scant available space. He quickly aligned them to form a rough path to the coast, featuring a large river running the majority of the distance.


    ¡°First, like I said, we gotta go north and a smidge west through the Snif lands, but then we go right into the River Collective. It ain¡¯t technically a nation, but thats good for us. No border protection. Unsurprisingly, they got lots of rivers. More surprisingly, they have very few bridges. Locals love their water, they¡¯ll happily swim cross.¡±


    ¡°What, our wagon can¡¯t swim?¡± Elody said dryly.


    Sam chortled. ¡°Y¡¯know, can¡¯t say I¡¯ve tried to find out! Don¡¯t plan on finding out, either.¡±


    He pointed to another map, this one connecting to the top edge of the prior.


    "We''ll head outta the River Collective and wind up in Wella. That starts here, at Heart Lake," Sam said, pointing to a conspicuously large lake that bisected the length of the river."


    "Doesn''t look much like a heart shape to me."


    "Think anatomical heart," Sam offered.


    Elody squinted and turned her head, but she still only saw a shapeless blob of water.


    "Yeah, me too, sister," Sam said. "The city of South Wella is on the north side of the lake, sitting pretty right between the two arms of the river flowing out of the lake. We talk to my guy, and sail north along the river."


    "Wait, South Wella and North Wella are both cities? They''re so far apart."


    "Whole nation''s like that. Every city in Wella is like that. There''s First Wella, Dark Wella, Sunk Wella, and those are just a few. All along River Wella. North and South Wella cap the river at each major end."


    Sam trailed his finger south, until he stopped just south of Heart Lake. He tapped his finger on the spot for emphasis.


    "Now here," he said, "This part is what scares me."


    "The map says that area to the south is ''Disputed''. Are you afraid of bandits, or a warzone?"


    Sam made a so-so gesture with his hands. ¡°There are some battles, sure, but they¡¯re so big when they do happen we¡¯ll know long in advance and we can avoid them. The Wellans and the Shifters don''t get along, but I don''t see that being an issue. Bandits neither, least not for us on the river."


    "Hold on, Shifters?" Elody asked. "I''ve never heard of those before. Who are they?"


    "They¡¯re a strange bunch- they look like some cross of tree and insect. And their name ain¡¯t for nothing- they¡¯re constantly shiftin¡¯ about in shape and form. Some kind of magic, some think. Me, I think they just got weird bones,¡± he said, gesticulating with his arms, eliciting another laugh from Elody.


    For the first time since they set off, Hugh roused and sat up. Even when only sitting upright, he was almost as tall as Sam was standing. The other two stopped when they noticed him moving, waiting to see if he would speak.


    ¡°That sounds relevant to my interests,¡± Hugh said in a low voice. He spoke slower than he already did normally, making Sam and Elody worry for his emotional state.


    Sam raised an eyebrow. ¡°Howso?¡±


    ¡°Learning more about them, especially in person, might let me glean more insights for my craft. If I could make something that could change shape readily, I could make some interesting things.¡±


    ¡°Hearing you talk about things that excite you while you¡¯re like this is giving me some weird emotional whiplash. Are you okay?¡± Elody asked Hugh.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be¡­ alright.¡±


    ¡°If you say so. You been followin¡¯ along?¡± Sam picked up.


    ¡°I have been listening. Yes.¡±


    ¡°Arright, I don¡¯t hafta repeat myself. So, you want us to, what, detour into Shifter Lands?¡±


    Hugh shook his head. ¡°I won¡¯t demand that. I merely wanted to express my interest in learning more about these ''Shifters''.¡±


    "Sure," Sam said with a shrug. "Easy enough to promise that. Where was I? Oh, right, the plan. After we get past that leg, we''ll try our luck with the coastal towns, and see who we can''t charter to get past the oceans. Most of the oceanic ports are in Orcish lands. Lovely folk. Once we''re out to sea, it''ll be smooth sailing!"


    Sam finished the monologue by sweeping up the unnecessary maps and looking around.


    ¡°Questions?¡± He asked.


    ¡°No questions," Hugh said.


    "I don''t think so," Elody said.


    ¡°Excellent!¡± Sam clapped as he put away the materials and turned to the other two. ¡°We have a long road ahead of us. Today, get comfortable. Tomorrow, I-¡±


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    Sam was cut off by Elody.


    "Wait, no. You said that part scared you, but you didn''t say by what."


    "Naw, I said there were bandits."


    "No, you said they shouldn''t be a problem because we''ll be on a boat!"


    "Right you are! So, we''ll be fine," Sam said evasively.


    Elody began to retort, but began to second-guess herself. Had she misheard? Or maybe she had misconstrued something he had said. Besides, why would Sam lie about this?


    "You''re looking a bit out of it, Elody. How about we camp for the night? It''s almost dark, anyhow," Sam offered.


    Hugh said nothing, but silently gazed at Sam from the side.


    "Yeah," Elody agreed, "Maybe I need rest. Its been a long day. Several long days, really."


    ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï


    Trying to sleep in a wagon cabin with little more than a blanket was less than ideal. They had stopped for a meal- dried meats and stale bread- but had otherwise tried their best to rest on the bumpy ride.


    True to his word, the following morning, Sam greeted them with an unwelcome amount of energy and cheer, getting them prepared to pay for their stay.


    Elody was sent to look around for forage. While she was still out of her element, she did know enough to look for the root they had bought so much of in the village. Any more of that would be a welcome addition for the group.


    Hugh, on the other hand, needed more setup. Sam worked with him to get what he would need out of crates. They gathered pieces of slate, chalks, some chisels and knives, and other odds and ends into one corner of the wagon bed. Elody said she would be foraging for roughly an hour, and they used the time to arrange the crates so Hugh had a place to work.


    ¡°Will you be able to work while we¡¯re moving? Wagon can get pretty bumpy,¡± Sam said.


    ¡°In a manner of speaking,¡± Hugh said slowly. He was much improved from the day before, yet still wary of everything. ¡°I am still learning much of this craft. However, I know enough to do the planning stages, and those can be done while we are in motion.¡±


    ¡°Arright, well if you need anything, just holler. Any idea what you¡¯ll do first?¡±


    Hugh hung his head. ¡°Not a clue.¡±


    ¡°No good. Elody mentioned she has a passin¡¯ knowledge of all this. I¡¯ll ask her for input before grilling you. Oh, and wouldn¡¯t you know!¡± Sam said.


    Sam waved to Elody, who was returning to the forest with the bottom of her shirt supporting a wealth of forage. There was some of the roots she set out for, but also a great many mushrooms of a single kind. They were mottled blue and white, looking almost like pottery glaze on the top, and bone white underneath.


    ¡°Whaddya have?¡± Sam asked Elody as she deposited her gatherings onto the edge of the wagon.


    ¡°Well I found the roots we were looking for, but not that many. The real winner were these beauties!¡± Elody said with a sparkle in her eyes. She swept aside her sweaty hair and continued. ¡°Really wish I had been dumped up here rather than in the useless tundra. I had no idea blue corrids grew so far south! They¡¯re actually really popular where I come from, though they¡¯re normally imported.¡±


    ¡°And these won¡¯t kill us? They don¡¯t look mighty tasty,¡± Sam asked, skepticism bare.


    ¡°Once we¡¯ve fried them up, I think you¡¯ll change your mind,¡± Elody said with a wink.


    ¡°If you say so. You¡¯re the expert. Speakin¡¯ of expertise, Hugh here¡¯s in a bit of a rut. I¡¯m not familiar with the work yet, so I was hoping you could help him get some ideas?¡±


    Elody thought for a moment. ¡°I thought you were going to work on the choker?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not confident I can make any meaningful changes just yet,¡± Hugh replied.


    ¡°Alright, what about a coldstone? I don¡¯t know how to make one, but I¡¯ve worked with them before.¡±


    Hugh only gave a blank look in response.


    ¡°Alright, well, some kind of magic tool that absorbs magical energy, or so the theory goes. I¡¯m told they¡¯re fairly simple, at least as far as magic goes, and they feel cold to the touch. I''ve used them from time to time for temperature sensitive recipes,¡± Elody explained.


    ¡°Do you have any idea how it works? Any distinguishing characteristics other than ''It is kind of cold''?¡± Hugh asked.


    ¡°Actually, yeah, every time I''ve gotten one, it had this kind of¡­ complicated¡­ erm, hold on, I¡¯ll doodle it out for you.¡±


    Elody grabbed the pencil Hugh had been holding on to moments before and drew out a diagram that resembled a starfish with very wobbly edges and lines running throughout. Hugh looked at the depiction, saying nothing for a moment, then pulling his earring off and examining it.


    Elody began to ask him what he was looking at, but Sam, seeing that Hugh was putting something together in his mind, shushed her. Hugh squinted as he looked at the intricate carvings on the lobed earring, clearly looking for something. After several minutes he grabbed the pencil back, then started writing on the crate that had become his desk. He scribbled so fast that neither of the other two were sure if he was writing or drawing. Eventually his hands stilled.


    ¡°Well?¡± Sam asked expectantly, breaking the silence.


    "This is... Unusable," Hugh said plainly. "But that does not mean this was futile."


    "Oh, ''futile'' is in yer vocabulary."


    "Zip it, Sam."


    "I need actual examples to learn more about these," Hugh continued. "I am beginning to doubt if this path will lead anywhere at all. I do not mean to sound hopeless, but I do not feel confident that I can do much with my current resources."


    "Hey, don''t give up now!" Elody said. "I know hitting a wall is frustrating for these things, but the whole point of you being out here with us is you can investigate these things, right? I don''t mean to be too blunt, but you''ve only just started, and calling it here would be a waste."


    Hugh gave Elody a long look, saying nothing while he thought about everything. Elody shifted uncomfortably, but waited patiently as best she could. Sam continued to lean against the wall as he watched with a raised eyebrow.


    "Then what do I do?" He finally asked.


    "Well," Elody said, "Something I did in my shop when I had nothing to do- rare, but it happened- was take the time to catalogue and take stock. Sam does it all the time."


    Sam nodded his agreement.


    "What does that mean for me? I know what I have, and it is not much," Hugh pointed out.


    "Do you though?" Elody asked. "How thoroughly have you noted each little detail and change on those?"


    "Extremely," Hugh said, bemused.


    "Okay, sure, I walked into that," Elody said.


    "This is going nowhere!" Sam announced. "Hugh, you obviously need inspiration from something. You ain''t gonna come up with your genius ideas on the same ol'' material. I''ll keep an eye out for yer thingamajigs, but if you see a source of potential inspiration, you tell me. Like Elody said, kind of the whole point of you bein'' with us. If yer ever gonna make me rich, that''s how it''ll happen. Just let me know, and that will be priority number one."


    Hugh tried to smile, but it was a weak, faltering thing.


    "Attaboy. Elody! These mushrooms- should we eat them now, or later?¡±


    ¡°Later. They¡¯ll keep into the evening just fine. Besides,¡± Elody said, brandishing a paring knife out of nowhere, "I''ve got to deworm these!"


    "I hope they taste as good as you promise. Never been a fan of mushrooms historically."


    ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï


    The mushrooms were indeed as good as she promised, pairing excellently with the roots fried up that evening. They sat around the fire, watching the smoke rise up into the sky. Elody was reminded of her time out in the tundra. It had only been two days, but they marked the two worst days of her life. Her face took on a sour expression as she thought about how close she had been to death.


    "What¡¯s the matter?¡±


    Elody was surprised to hear that it was Hugh asking her this.


    ¡°Just thinking about how it was before¡­ Before I got rescued,¡± Elody said, before shaking her head and trying to change course. ¡°It wasn¡¯t even that long, and I¡¯m okay now! I shouldn¡¯t complain!¡±


    Hugh slowly shook his head. He took a long pause, making sure it was his turn to speak.


    ¡°I have never been this far away from home. Would you have guessed?¡± He asked Elody.


    ¡°No, I mean, we¡¯re a day and a half out, so that¡¯s not too surprising.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not one of the hunters. Nor do I gather. I stayed at home, learning under Maril.¡±


    ¡°Your mentor, the elderly one,¡± Elody said.


    Hugh nodded. ¡°Being exiled has been¡­¡± He stopped, then started over. ¡°Being exiled doesn¡¯t feel real. Not yet. Everything still looks familiar in the broad strokes. Nothing is exactly as it should be, but I think I could get by. Yet, I feel like the ground no longer supports me. That everything I knew is falling away. I am not used to being like this. I¡­¡±


    Hugh stopped, his body shuddering almost violently. Elody almost got up to see if he was alright when she realized he was crying. Elody waited patiently for him, not wanting to push boundaries so soon. Sam had been quiet the whole time, wearing a somber expression.


    Hugh continued, and while his voice faltered, the speech they heard from the choker was surprisingly intelligible, a credit to his workmanship.


    ¡°I feel so alone. I have noone for comfort, just two strangers. I feel so aimless and lost, and all I have for explanation is that this would be ¡®good for me¡¯. That this would keep me from resentment. How? I don¡¯t understand, I don¡¯t, I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°What were you told, exactly?¡± Elody asked.


    would be good for me. She said if I didn¡¯t get out, I would grow resentful of my home, and I had to leave before I grew too large and hurt anyone. That I couldn¡¯t return until I had shown that I had learned¡­ who I am.¡±


    He turned his gaze to the smoke rising above, his voice- even through the choker- rising into a bellow.


    ¡°I know who I am! I am me! Of course I am me! Who else could I be! I am! I am¡­¡± Hugh yelled before his voice failed and he crumpled to the ground again, body once again shaking as he cried. Again, he recovered, and looked to Elody with his bleary eyes.


    ¡°This¡­ is how I feel. I do not think I have ever felt this way before. I was sent out with kindness, yet I am wracked with pain. How are you not? I did not want to make this about me, Elody. I wanted only,¡± He paused, ¡°I want to know how you aren¡¯t like this. You were thrown out of your home with hostility and no warning. How do you¡­?¡±


    Elody finally stood up and moved over to Hugh, gently placing a hand on his furry back. The coarse fur was oily, almost feeling sweaty, but she ignored the sensation and started to rub his back gently. He gave no indication of discomfort, but rather calming at the touch, so she continued.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t get to see my breakdown. That was out in the middle of that barren tundra- I screamed until I was hoarse, Hugh. I swore to the stars that I would kill the one responsible for my exile. Oh, and I¡¯ll stick by that. I already had my breakdown, I think it got so bad for me that anything feels better. But you? Things keep getting worse for you, even if its not as bad as it was for me. I think your feelings are reasonable.¡±


    Elody smiled gently. ¡°How old are you, Hugh?¡±


    Hugh paused before answering.


    ¡°19 summers,¡± He replied quietly.


    ¡°You¡¯re still a kid!¡± Elody exclaimed. ¡°You¡¯re as old as Rudy is!¡±


    ¡°Who is¡­ Rudy?¡± Hugh was having a difficult time speaking by now, and was barely pushing out these short sentences. He was happy to let Elody carry the conversation.


    ¡°Oh, Rudolph. He¡¯s my assistant. Back home.¡± Elody¡¯s tone dropped back to somber as quickly as she had become excited. ¡°I¡¯ve known him for a decade now. He¡¯s my only family, really. My dorky little brother. I took him in off the street when he was nine- at least, we think he was nine- right as I started my shop. He eventually became my apprentice, too, and was a dab hand at pharmacy himself! He might even be better than me. He knows all the ins and outs now, and he was always trying new things.¡±


    Elody produced the waxy paper bag from her pouch. It had survived her outing in the wilderness, and now the written experimental batch note was all she had left of him. She folded it carefully before putting it away again, wanting to hold onto it until she returned. She sighed.


    ¡°I hope he¡¯ll be okay. Maybe he can get re-hired by the next person who runs the shop.¡±


    ¡°Why would he not inherit the shop?¡± Hugh asked. ¡°You just said he is as good as you are, and is as old as you were when you started your shop. Wouldn¡¯t he be the obvious one to get it?¡±


    Elody let out a dark laugh. ¡°If things made any sense in Ade, thats exactly what would happen. No, it will be sold by the Medeahs to whomever can be suckered into giving them the most money. Skill just means you¡¯re a better worker in Ade, not that you¡¯re suited for ownership.¡±


    Hugh wrinkled his nose. ¡°Surely being more skilled gets you something?¡±


    ¡°More work for the same conditions!¡± Elody barked out sardonically. ¡°Unless you¡¯re run by someone who knows what its like to work what you own, working in Ade is terrible. That''s why I did everything in my power to own my own work and help the community. ¡°


    ¡°That sounds like madness.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Ade for you, and the Adesteran Consulate as a whole!¡± Elody said sardonically with a sweep of her arms. ¡°Welcome one, welcome all! Everyone will be exploited equally!¡±


    Hugh harumphed. ¡°Why would you want to go back at all?¡±


    ¡°Easy,¡± Elody said, her face splitting into a malicious grin, ¡°So I can kill Orivaughn Medeah.¡±

 A Bad Day for Captain Quintus

    ¡°I¡¯m goint to kill myself,¡± said Orivaughn Medeah, slumped forwards onto his desk.


    ¡°S-sir?¡± A young Adstrani guard asked warily.


    ¡°Let me get this straight,¡± Orivaughn said, sitting upright and rubbing his face, ¡°Not only did someone escape our carefully orchestrated operation, but did so in the most ridiculous way possible, and we have no idea where she is, or whether or not she¡¯s even alive?¡±


    ¡°Y-yes sir, the ritualist assigned to review the, erm, disrupted diagram has here his official report,¡± The guard said, nervously handing over a sheaf of papers. ¡°That has all the details, but he talked about how the disruption was so sudden and random that, ah, the captive could have ended up anywhere.¡±


    Orivaughn accepted the papers and immediately began leafing through them, muttering as he read. ¡°No sign of destructive breakdown¡­ replication of error possible but time consuming¡­ 4 weeks? No, no no¡­ Guaranteed location¡­¡± He trailed off, his murmur too faint to be heard.


    ¡°Shall I tell the ritualist to commence the investigation?¡±


    Orivaughn looked up, already having forgotten the presence of the guard. Being the governor of Ade, he was constantly being surveilled and watched by his guards. There were two other guards stationed in that very room, and he had long ago learned to ignore their presence.


    ¡°What? Oh, Myriad Gods no. Total waste of time.¡±


    ¡°Forgive me, sir, but I thought all of the captives were, um, central figures to political dissent?¡± The guard stammered.


    ¡°Good gods, man, get a grip on yourself. Who¡¯s your captain? I need to give him a reminder to discipline his men better.¡±


    ¡°Captain Quintus, sir.¡±


    Orivaughn jotted down a note, then folded it and stamped it, handing it off to one of the two side guards, who took it and left wordlessly.


    ¡°Where was I? Oh, right- Waste of time. She wasn¡¯t any of the ringleaders, merely a figure who was enabling some of their gatherings. If she¡¯s out of the way, possibly a hundred miles out to sea, then she¡¯s as good as dead- As you will be if you don¡¯t lose the stammer before me. Now go.¡±


    ¡°Yes sir!¡± The guard bowed and left promptly.


    ¡°But still,¡± Orivaughn muttered to himself, ¡°Loose ends stress me out to no end.¡±


    ¡°Are you sighing in there?¡± Came a playful voice.


    A lithe figure sauntered in from the side entrance, almost dancing as they weaved through the curtains. Contrasting Orivaugn¡¯s stiff formal wear, their figure was covered in layers of colorful silks, waving about as they walked into Orivaughn¡¯s office, tail swishing from side to side.


    ¡°Ketta, darling!¡± Orvaughn greeted as he got up to embrace with a kiss. ¡°Not that your presence isn¡¯t delightfully welcome, what are you doing here? I thought you were out for the day?¡±


    ¡°Well, I was,¡± Ketta said with their sing-song voice, ¡°I heard that you were having some trouble with one of the people you were disposing of. The pharmacist?¡±


    ¡°Please, don¡¯t say it like that. You make it sound like I¡¯m doing something wrong. I¡¯m just trying to keep order in the city. Also, who did you hear that from? You shouldn¡¯t be hearing about that,¡± Orivaughn asked.


    ¡°Guard Davis, under Captain Quintus. I thought you¡¯d ask,¡± Ketta replied with a wink.


    ¡°Him again? Gods, what a disgrace.¡± Orivaughn sat back down at his desk, his tail instinctively curling up behind him. Ketta immediately picked up on the signal of stress and walked up behind him, rubbing his shoulders. Orivaughn made a sound of satisfaction, relaxing as they went through the oft-practiced motions.


    ¡°Ori,¡± Ketta murmured into Orivaughn¡¯s ear.


    ¡°Mmhm?¡± He responded, dreamily.


    ¡°That pharmacy¡­ It doesn¡¯t have an owner now. You¡¯ll need to assign it a new owner, right?¡±


    ¡°Mmmhm.¡±


    ¡°I know you normally auction it to the highest bidder, but¡­ I have someone in particular who ought to get the place,¡± Ketta said, a careful tone sewn into every word.


    ¡°Mmmhm, sure, sure,¡± He said, not noticing or not caring how Ketta was navigating him, ¡°Just¡­ Get the clerk to give you the papers and do them, I¡¯ll give them the stamp¡­ Ooooh, yes, there¡­¡±


    Orivaughn slumped as Ketta¡¯s massage continued, letting out incriminating sounds. The remaining guard in the corner struggled to keep a straight face and placid tail as the highest ranking official purred mere feet away. The reverie lasted for several minutes, Ketta cooing sweet nothings int Orivaughn''s ear. It was broken rather suddenly when a guard came running into the office. Orivaughn immediately snapped upright without even a moment¡¯s hesitation. In a moment, he went from a puddle of a man to proper ruler of the city, all with a change of posture.


    ¡°Sir!¡±


    ¡°Report.¡±


    ¡°A mob has formed at the palace gates! They¡¯re demanding for your presence. The palace guard is holding them off for now. The Captain has advised for your evacuation. I¡¯m here to escort you, sir.¡±


    Orivaughn said nothing, at first. He only hesitated a moment, which hung in the air with thick potency. Orivaughn¡¯s expression gave away nothing, held steady at the guard.


    ¡°Who is the captain on duty today?¡± Orivaughn asked, already knowing the answer to the question.


    ¡°Captain Quintus, sir.¡±


    Orivaughn¡¯s gaze tightened on the guard, making them feel like a mouse before a lion. Orivaughn got up, making a slight gesture towards Ketta.


    ¡°No, I¡¯ll handle this personally. Ketta, with me. You know what to do. As for you,¡± He said, looking at the guard, ¡°Accompany me. Take no action unless I explicitly order you to.¡±


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    Both guards barked acknowledgement, and followed Orivaughn.


    Orivaughn walked through the halls of the governor¡¯s palace with determination and intent. He had grown up inside the vast estate, and knew the layout well. His stride was strong and quick, every footfall speaking to his mastery of this place. Servants and staff stood to the sides as he passed them, their faces filled with fear not for the displeased masses outside, but for fear of their master as he passed them. His displeasure was legendary, and everyone knew what getting in his way meant. Many had scars that ached as he passed.


    The exterior of the palace was filled with gardens, taking up eight times as much space as the palace proper, with walls surrounding the entire estate. Maintaining a garden in the desert was difficult, yet the Medeahs found it within their powers to persuade life to grow by bribing it with imported soils and fertilizers, as well as unrestricted access to the precious waters of the river by way of a channel that had been dug. The canal that zigzagged through the estate grounds let the gardens bloom with delicate leaves and flowers, in contrast with the practical vegetation that lived in the scrublands outside the walls.


    The evening light was giving way to evening, casting golden rays over the colorful gardens. Another light bloomed at the gates, villagers lighting torches in anticipation of the coming darkness. The unruly mob was loudly voicing their displeasures at a line of guards, who tried to keep a small perimeter around the gate clear. The palace did not have many guards relative to its enormous size, and what it did have was gathered here. Thirty men stood shoulder to shoulder.


    Behind the line was Captain Quintus, one of two captains stationed at the palace. He was a portly man who held himself in impeccable posture, barking orders and directing guards. He was giving his all into making sure the line didn¡¯t fall into disarray in the face of an angry mass of citizens many times their number. He knew he didn¡¯t have enough men to hold the crowd at bay indefinitely, and the city garrison was far away. He had already sent one of the servants discreetly to send word, and he employed every tactic to stall and buy time that he had learned over his thirty year career.


    The guards were being pushed towards the gate by the undulating crowd. Quintus knew that they couldn¡¯t hold much longer, and hoped that the governor would take his advice. An angry mob storming the palace would be bad, but with the garrison¡¯s help, they could clean them out and restore order. Losing the governor, however, would be catastrophic.


    The surprise on the captain¡¯s face was mirrored by the crowd going still as the palace gates opened and out strolled Governor Orivaughn Medeah. His ornate formalwear stood out in the dimming light, stones that had been sewn in glittered in the golden light.


    ¡°It¡¯s HIM!¡± Someone in the crowd shouted as the mob writhed with renewed vigor.


    For a moment, the scenario seemed the same. The citizens pushed against the exhausted line of guards, but when Orivaughn spoke, the scene changed.


    ¡°Silence!¡± Orivaughn ordered. ¡°You demanded my presence, here I am! Now I demand your Silence!¡±


    The last word cut through the tension, and all sound disappeared, save for the gentle groan of footfalls as people fidgeted.


    ¡°Look at this mess. How disorganized,¡± Orivaughn spat, ¡°Who represents you?¡±


    A moment''s confusion took over the crowd until one man spoke up.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have any representatives. You killed ¡®em all!¡±


    Orivaughn tutted. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about. I try to keep things civil, and I haven¡¯t had anyone killed in months. The last person was found guilty of treason. So unless he was your representative, I don¡¯t know what you mean.¡± A wicked smile crept across Orivaughn¡¯s face. He meant to keep a stony face, but he thrilled in moments of tension. It boiled his blood, and made him feel alive in a way that nothing else did.


    ¡°Bullshit!¡± The same man in the crowd shouted back. ¡°More than two score of decent people all go missing overnight, and you expect us to believe that?¡±


    The crowd shouted agreement with the man.


    ¡°There were a few imprisonments, yes,¡± Orivaugh conceded, ¡°But every person was linked to plots to assassinate me or sow malcontent in the citizens. Petty criminals, not the ¡®decent people¡¯ you speak of.¡±


    The crowd screamed invective.


    ¡°You can just make up whatever charges you want, you sick bastard!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re forced to live in squalor while you live in excess!¡±


    "You¡¯ve ruined communities over your useless pride!¡±


    Orivaughn shook his head at the crowd, regarding the livid people as little more than a nuisance.


    ¡°Ade exists by the grace of the myriad gods, and we, the Medeahs, have been granted divine providence to guide you. Never forget that it was Miracle Milo Medeah that gave us this river to live by, and it was Miracle Titania Medeah who gave us crops that grow in plenty along the river banks, and Miracle Paron Medeah who saved us from destruction, and more than I can recount with my breath! Yet you come here, ungrateful and greedy, and demand we do more?¡± Orivaughn spat on the ground. ¡°You disgust me! Yet I am merciful, and I will forgive you if you only prostrate yourselves and pledge your fealty once more.¡±


    The crowd was unsure how to proceed. While none had come to submit, some people were growing afraid of the man who stood unflinchingly against the masses. Others became incensed, and a small group became distinct.


    ¡°You give us myths and legends and claim all the credit for them!¡± A man shouted. The same man that had spoken up from the crowd. A small space was cleared around him and a handful of others- his compatriots- as people either banded with him or stepped away.


    "You say your blood carries divine power, yet you give us nothing! Our children starve while you feast every night, never wanting for more! We harvest surplus year after year yet we get starvation rations!¡± The man turned to the crowd to continue. ¡°Its just like River¡¯s Bounty has said for years! Nothing will change and you will starve until there is change! And there is only one path to change!¡±


    The man and his group pushed into the line of guards so suddenly and with so much impetus that the six people broke through. They all brandished weapons, knives, blades, a hidden shortspear, and continued their charge at Orivaughn. Orivaughn stood there, flanked by two guards and Ketta, who made no motion as the charging threat loomed.


    Orivaughn lifted his hand to point at them as they were ten feet away. His tail swayed with delight as he uttered the simple command, ¡°Die.¡±


    A moment later they all crumpled to the ground, spasming and twitching horribly as something in their brains malfunctioned. They emitted sounds of pain and agony as their control over their own bodies slipped away, and everything within them failed. Panic filled their eyes only momentarily, before they went dim and glassy.


    Everything stood still.


    The guards stared at the spectacle, forgetting their duty, while the citizens stood mouths agape. Ketta looked like they might either break into a sob, or vomit.


    Orivaughn took several steps forward, stepping onto the pile of corpses to elevate himself head and shoulders above the crowd.


    ¡°Am I not merciful?¡± He intoned.


    The crowd shivered.


    ¡°AM I NOT MERCIFUL?¡± He repeated with force.


    One by one, guard and citizen alike, everyone dropped down onto the ground in a deep bow.


    ¡°And whom do you serve?¡± Orivaughn demanded.


    ¡°Medeah,¡± Came the repeated murmured answer. ¡°Medeah. Medeah. Medeah.¡±


    Orivaughn¡¯s smile spread from ear to ear.


    ¡°I am merciful, and we are great! We want you to prosper and flourish, and so, I shall let you all go. Go, live, and spread the word of my mercy with gratitude and thanks. It is only those who stand against our lives and prosperity that are punished. Those who support peace and order shall be rewarded. By my grace, go now.¡±


    Orivaughn turned with a flourish, and headed toward the palace gates. Passing Captain Quintus, he placed a hand on the captain¡¯s shoulder as he stood to attention.


    ¡°You have failed me today,¡± Was all Orivaughn said before ripping the captain¡¯s badge off. ¡°You too may have my mercy and live.¡±


    As Orivaughn Medeah went back into the palace grounds, the traumatized crowd slowly turned and began to make their way back to town. In their wake followed former captain Quintus.

 Mego

    The path from the Frostwalker lands to Snif territory was not fraught with danger, but rather a deeply tedious ordeal. There was no proper road to speak of, so a path had to be made more often than not. It was much faster with three people than just Sam, so they still made decent time, but having to stop the wagon, calm the beasts of burden, and bushwhack some scrub or find a detour became very old, very fast.


    Slowly, the terrain around them changed; The sparse taiga forests shifted to more temperate forests. Plants that took advantage of the cold permafrost to eke out a living were replaced by more common and widespread ones that required a regular rainfall to thrive. Elody was pleased to no end, excitedly jumping out of the slow-moving wagon to inspect a patch of plants she thought she recognized. Every time, Sam would complain that she should just ask to stop before taking off.


    ¡°I know I should,¡± Elody complained, ¡°I¡¯m just so bored.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t you do something with what we have?¡± Sam asked.


    ¡°With this random batch of stuff? No,¡± She snorted.


    ¡°Then maybe you should drive this thing! These dumb beasts would walk into the trees without direction, and I¡¯ve got better things to do,¡± Sam said, and then took off.


    Hugh continued his work in "cataloging" his work and the specifications for his choker and earpiece.  It was tedious work, and only a slight variation upon what he had performed in the past: taking the existing sequences he had and altering them at random.


    Despite it being his single greatest success, he really didn''t understand why his earpiece worked at all.  He had taken the base design for the choker and copied it onto whatever he could, then made minor alterations.  Small additions of lines, copying it without one, changes of that nature.  When he made one that repeated sound back to him, he put it on a metal earpiece so he could have fun with it.  The discovery that it allowed him to understand wildlife was a surprise to him that only came much later.


    His current approach was different- he was trying to figure out the basic patterns of the inscriptions, but it was slow-going.  He was flailing in the dark, and he knew it.  He took small, flat-ish stones and tried to cut the most basic parts of the pattern into it- at least basic as he could perceive it. Nothing came of it until suddenly, one of them lit up and shattered in his hands.


    ¡°Not to be a wet blanket, but yer thing just broke," Sam noted.


    ¡°Yes," Hugh acknowledged. "Yes it did. Why did it do that?¡±


    ¡°You seem oddly pleased. You sure yer alright? Not catching a case of the crazies, right?¡± Sam asked.


    ¡°I am quite well,¡± Hugh said, and he meant it absolutely.


    "If you say so," Sam said with a wave, heading back into the front cabin.


    Hugh turned back to his work,  a smile pulling at the edges of his lips.  It wasn''t much, be he had a mote of inspiration now.


    ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï


    Once the others were settled into their activitied, Sam took out a book. It looked similar to the one he used to keep his inventory and stocks in order, but this one made no mention of goods or money. It was his personal journal, and if anyone asked, he would lie and say it was his ledger. He wrote in a personal shorthand that he had come up with himself. The book was not his most valuable possesion, but it was his most treasured.


    He would write in it many things- anything from diary entries, notes for himself later, to drawings and recordings of events. Today marked an unusual entry, but a significant one. As the other two were absorbed in their tasks, he watched them closely, and began to write about each of them in detail.


    ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï


    After several days of travel, they finally found the most rudimentary of roads- a sure sign that they were entering Snif territory. The dirty trail they found eventually transformed into a dirt road with wheel marks as they began passing farmhouses and other outlying structures. Sam told them they would push into the night to make it into the first town so they could eat a proper meal for once. He was met with sighs of relief, and they pushed on.


    It was past dark when they finally entered the town. It wasn¡¯t large, only having two streets with actual establishments, intersecting on a small square that featured no major decoration apart from a large sign that advertised that they had entered, ¡°The lovely town of Mego¡±. They found lodging in an Inn, and once all cargo was secured, they ate dinner and retired to rooms with actual beds.


    Elody and Hugh were sluggish as the morning greeted them all too early. Sam, however, was in a frenzy of activity. He had barely slept, being used to the conditions of travelling mercantile life. Having been at this for almost five years, he had become familiar in all the actions needed to locate the appropriate figures to sign off with to set up a shop for the next several days. By the time Sam had come back to berate the other two for being so slow to rise, He had already positioned the cart in the square with all the legal niceties accounted for.


    ¡°It¡¯s still early morning,¡± Hugh complained.


    ¡°Thats when all the best business happens!¡± Sam insisted. ¡°Besides, we have to be ready! Get yer big hairy ass moving!¡±


    Elody needed no further prompting. As a former shop owner herself, she knew the importance of early morning prep. While her pharmacy opened later than this, she could frequently be found stocking and organizing her shelves as dawn¡¯s first light breached the walls of Ade.


    Here was similar enough that she wouldn¡¯t argue, but she had no idea what she was meant to do. Normally, in her own shop, she would stock and organize, sometimes sythesizing some of the simpler medications, but in this rinky-dink caravan? She was entirely out of her depth.


    Normally, she would have known to ask, but in her sleep-addled state, she didn¡¯t think to. Luckily, Sam didn¡¯t wait for the question.


    ¡°C¡¯mere,¡± he ordered. ¡°I¡¯m gonna show you how to open shop. I¡¯ll be handlin¡¯ it normally, but I want you to know in case something comes up.¡±


    The two shaggy beasts that drew the wagon were already hitched to a post with feed and water, but the wagon was still prepped for travel. He showed Elody how to properly lock the wheels, so the wagon couldn¡¯t be pushed. Next he showed her the most unintuitive part of the wagon- how to change the configuation by moving a single board.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    The wagon was a strange design, meant to be a blend of capacity, mobile home, and semi-secure storefront, but it couldn¡¯t be all of these at once. The side of the wagon had a board that unlatched to let another plank swing down, turning it into a shelf that wares could be placed upon. The many latches served as hooks to hang other merchandise onto either directly or tied onto with string or twine. The board itself went to the back of the wagon. There was an opening, normally covered by a thick, opaque curtain, that the board now latched into, revealing one side of the curtain hooks to be the the same clever multi-use latches; The other side were a special variant that served as hinges, allowing the board to become a proper door.


    The board was as heavy as, well, a door, but Sam noted with some relief how much easire that part was with a second person to help. The instruction took about twenty minutes, but Sam assured her it would only take a few minutes normally.


    He went on to show her what ares would be set up and where, having to shoo Hugh to the front cabin for the time being. Hugh huffed as he moved, but put up no further resistance.


    ¡°Well, we seem to be all set up,¡± Elody said. ¡°Now what?¡±


    Sam grinned at her malevolently.


    ¡°Now, yer real work begins.¡±


    ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï


    Dean was a Snif farmer who lived in the outskirts of Mego. Like most Snif people, he was a Ratkin, standing on two legs for the most part, but dropping onto all fours when they needed to run. His dark fur was adorned by small pieces of leather or thick cloth, mostly pieces of clothing that could have pockets. While their natural fur could keep them comfortable in most typical temperatures, every Ratkin, Snif, Rhyth, or elsewhere, knew they could always use more stuff.


    Dean was just leaving his home, blearily rubbing his eyes, when he remembered yesterdays events; while clearing his fields for another planting, not one but three of his tools broke. His plough¡¯s handles broke, as were his saw and hammer. He had planned on roughing out new handles, only to discover his lack of maintenance had come to bite him in the tail.


    He groaned, slowly pulling his hands down his face. He didn¡¯t want to, but he¡¯d have to go into town and hope there was anything he could use in the town store. He grabbed his coinpurse and set off into town.


    It was midday by the time he arrived. He noted that the town felt different, but decided it wasn¡¯t important, and went to the store. He had planned to make this as quick and frugal a trip as possible, but his attention was arrested by a strange sight- A woman with dark, reddish brown skin was holding up three signs, one in each hand and one in her tail. Each of them said something different, but along the same lines.


    -High Quality Wares!-


    -Exotic Goods!-


    -Deal of a Lifetime!-


    The woman holding them up was moving and prancing around, though she was clearly unhappy with her situation. Dean didn¡¯t know exactly what kind of humanoid she was, but that only leant credence to the claim of exotic goods. He looked in the direction of the pointed signs, and saw the storefront that had literally popped up overnight. He shrugged, and went over, buying not only a new saw and hammer, but also some hafts that he figured could work just fine with his plough.


    ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï


    ¡°You know, I was skeptical it would work,¡± Elody said, ¡°But you were right. That definitely got a lot of attention.¡±


    ¡°Nah, that¡¯s just the start,¡± Sam said offhandedly. ¡°Tomorrow, the real moneymaking happens. Oh, and you¡¯ll be managing the storefront for that.¡±


    Elody turned to Sam, jaw on the floor.


    ¡°You¡¯re just going to drop that on me? Out of the blue like that?¡± Elody asked incredulously.


    ¡°Why not? You¡¯ve run a store before, you know how to work a storefront. I¡¯ll have Hugh park his butt nearby in case you can¡¯t understand what someone wants by pointing and it¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Elody¡¯s mind raced. Was this some sort of test? Some way of setting her up for failure so he could take advantage of her when it inevitably came? Or did he just grossly overestimate her abilities as a saleswoman? Perhaps he didn¡¯t understand that not all stores ran the same, and he assumed she would have similar skills as him?


    She tried to not let the panic seep through into her expression. She schooled herself, and took a deep breath before continuing.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you afraid I¡¯ll screw this up? That I¡¯ll lose you a lot of money?¡± She asked, trying to sound pragmatic rather than nervous.


    ¡°Nah. You¡¯ve got the small potatoes. You¡¯ve got the basics, so it¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Sam¡¯s nonchalant response continued to catch her off guard.


    ¡°Small¡­ potatoes?¡±


    ¡°Sure, don¡¯tcha have potatoes where you come from?¡± Sam asked. ¡°Point is, you got us a bunch of attention yesterday, and talk travels fast in these small towns. Between your show bringing tons of people and the cut-rate deals we offered yesterday, I reckon the stores here will wanna talk business. I¡¯ll be spending most of the day workin¡¯ out deals on the bulk items. It¡¯ll be more barter than anything, but thats where the real money is. Coin is heavy and dangerous to carry, but a crate of goods is much harder to steal and less worth it to the common thief.¡±


    ¡°So, the stuff we sell at the front¡­ doesn¡¯t matter?¡±


    ¡°Less that it doesn¡¯t matter than that¡¯s not the point. The point of that¡¯s just to show we¡¯re a legit enterprise. You gotta show people that you¡¯ve actually got stuff to sell, and you¡¯re not just some random schlups who showed up in a wagon. Legitimacy is the most valuable commodity you can have. Merchant, leader, parent, doesn¡¯t matter. Once people think you¡¯re supposed to be doing something, they not only won¡¯t stop you, but they¡¯ll help you. All this song and dance is just us building legitimacy.¡±


    ¡°A legitimate circus,¡± Hugh chortled.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Elody scoffed, half affronted, half amused by the surprising prod.


    ¡°If it works,¡± Sam laughed. ¡°If ¡®Legitimacy is king¡¯ is lesson number one, lesson number two is ¡®The end jusifies the means¡¯. If we act all crazy and they come to check us out, then see we got great deals and buy our stuff, thats just plain better than being prim and proper than getting no business whatsoever.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know that I agree with that,¡± Elody said.


    ¡°Howso?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± she began, ¡°Thats rather reductive, isn¡¯t it? It assumes there¡¯s only so many ways to approach something. Also, that everyone views everything the same. You had me act like a dancing animal, and people will remember that, even if they bought your wares.¡±


    ¡°Well sure,¡± Sam said, unfazed. ¡°Yer right, that¡¯s a part of the end. We acted crazy, and got business. I just don¡¯t care about that other part. Now people remember us as a funny thing, an¡¯ people like funny. I wouldn¡¯t ever have us do something I think I¡¯d regret.¡±


    ¡°You mean we¡¯d regret?¡± Elody ventured.


    "Naw, you work for me. I¡¯ll make you do embarrassing things, don¡¯t you fret.¡±


    Elody scoffed in disbelief.


    ¡°Hey now, you may work for me, but I¡¯m not forcing you to stay. Yer with me because I¡¯m the best way to completing yer own goal. That whole edgy murder-revenge thing you went on about. So ask yerself: if this is the best path to yer goal, and you gotta humiliate yerself to make it happen, or would it be better to take the safe, slow path that takes longer but features less humiliation? Or, better yet, would you do something with more humiliation, but a riskier conclusion?¡±


    Sam shrugged to emphasize his lack of attachment to the hypothetical scenario.


    ¡°That¡¯s not the same! My ego isn¡¯t relevant to my goal!¡± Elody argued.


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I¡¯m talkin¡¯ about. Its not important, so if yer ego gets a lil beat up along the way, so long as you get what yer after, the end justifies the means. I¡¯m not trying to justify doing awful things to get something good,¡± Sam said, then made a face. ¡°Except where that good is REAL good, you know? It¡¯s all about accepting the outcome and the price you pay to get it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not really what people mean when they say ¡®the end justifies the means¡¯, you know?¡± Elody said.p


    ¡°I don¡¯t really care. Works for me,¡± Sam said. ¡°And, on that note, so do you. C¡¯mere and let''s take inventory, you two.¡±

 Missives

    The next day was just as Sam had promised it would be, much to Elody¡¯s surprise. Her experience handling customers and working a shopfront was largely applicable in the end, despite these customers having to point at various items and gesture if they wanted multiples. In the end, only in a handful of occasions did she have to disrupt Hugh¡¯s work to have him translate. In each of the appearances, the unknown form of the young Frostwalker startled the townsfolk. They knew of the Frostwalkers that lived to their south, but almost noone had seen one before, and the ones who had had ventured south to see them. To see one in their hometown was quite the shock.


    While Elody was decent at this, she was not excellent as stand-in shopkeep. She was nervous and blundered frequently, earning a few upset looks when she repeatedly grabbed the wrong item that the small Ratkin villager was pointing at. She quickly picked up the local terms for ¡®Thank you¡¯, ¡®Sorry¡¯, and simple ¡®yes¡¯ or ¡®no¡¯ through context cues and Hugh¡¯s prompting.


    After midday, the customers dried up, leaving Elody bored and without anything to do. Throughout the morning, there had been a line of villagers lined up, ranging from many local farmers to local business owners to local clergy. The latter of which required Hugh¡¯s translation, as they were specifically requesting if they had candles. They didn¡¯t, which left the clergy member leaving disappointedly. Now that the line was gone, Elody sat back on one of the crates Sam had noted as ¡°do not sell¡±, and sighed nostalgically.


    Hugh turned to Elody. He had been much less social since being removed from his home, but it had been almost a week. While the pain was fresh, he also knew that Elody¡¯s pain was almost as fresh and cut far deeper. He wanted to become friends with her, even if he was still unsure what kind of a person she was. He wanted to know that; Hugh wanted to know how she operated. In his experience, however, asking that directly was not only fruitless, but often lead to consternation. He thought about how to approach the matter, and, settling on a gentle approach, cleared his throat.


    ¡°Are you doing alright?¡± Hugh asked.


    Elody leaned back onto the sturdy crate and sighed again, letting her head loll about.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine. I mean, no. No I¡¯m not. I''m not sure,¡± She said, immediately contradicting herself.


    ¡°Why were you sighing?¡± Hugh asked, trying for a slightly different angle.


    ¡°What? I was sighing?¡±


    ¡°Repeatedly. Is something on your mind?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah. I suppose I was. I was just thinking about my old shop. The customers I had then were nothing like the ones here. I don¡¯t mean like their appearance, though obviously there weren¡¯t Ratkin there, they were Adstrani, like me,¡± Elody said.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t presume,¡± he said.


    ¡°I suppose that¡¯s fair. But in Ade, it¡¯s almost exclusively Adstrani. Sure, there¡¯s a few Draconics, but not many. Not any of my customers, though. My customers were all common folk in Ade. Workers, laborers, a few homeless people even. Everyone on the bottom several rungs of the social ladder.¡± Elody sighed again. ¡°I knew almost all of them by name. All the ones who came regularly, at least.¡±


    ¡°Would you like to talk about them?¡± Hugh ventured. He was starting to realize that Elody liked to learn about the people around her, and wondered how that might extend to himself and Sam in the future.


    ¡°Oh, goodness, where to start? There¡¯s Mrs. Norrich, what a crabby old lady! But she came once a fortnight to complain about how her medicine was awful and made her stomach upset. Every time I offered to give her something else for her headaches, she snapped at me to mind my business and demanded another two week¡¯s worth. Crazy old bat,¡± Elody laughed.


    ¡°Then there¡¯s the Crew! Three brothers, Juan, Mirro, and Andre. They were nothing but energy. All or nothing! The only problem was their sleep, and they all required medicine to sleep. They did all sorts of odds and ends, mostly labor. They did some construction, repair, and even knew plumbing! No idea where they learned that, but they seemed to know a bit of everything. Helped me fix up the shop one time for free!¡± Elody smiled at the memory. ¡°They were also the ones who got me in touch with what would become the Pothecarians.¡±


    ¡°Pothecarians?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, a bunch of people upset with the way things are in Ade. I let them meet in the back of my shop, since I had the space. Guess that really stuck with them, since they named themselves after it. They were mostly runoff from River¡¯s Bounty, and wanted to start fresh with other, like-minded individuals, and¡­¡± Elody trailed off.


    ¡°I¡¯m getting off topic,¡± She said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°It is no problem,¡± Hugh offered his best attempt at a smile, trying to be reassuring. It must have worked, because Elody smiled back. ¡°Who else came to your shop?¡±


    ¡°Oh, there was Finneas! He¡¯s only about 15, and a nasty pickpocket. I originally planned on barring him from my shop, given how he gets the money, but Rudy convinced me to let him keep coming by. He said that he really needed the medicine and that without it, he would never be well enough to be a functioning member of society. He also pointed out that Finn could just as easily have stolen the medicine without paying.¡±


    ¡°Rudy was your assistant, yes?¡± Hugh asked, remembering the prior conversation between the two of them.


    ¡°That¡¯s right! He was so good at picking up everything I taught him. He made me promise that I wouldn¡¯t kick Finneas out. It took me longer than it ought to have to realize that he saw a lot of himself in Finn.¡± Elody¡¯s expression grew dour. ¡°I hope Rudy¡¯s doing alright without me.¡±


    Hugh wanted to say something to try and comfort Elody, but he paused, not knowing what to say. Or rather, he thought of a half dozen things to say, but couldn¡¯t decide what was or was not appropriate to say.


    His thought process was rendered moot by the squeak of a new customer at the window. Elody hurried over to discover a new line beginning to form.


    ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï


    As the light began to wane in the small village, people stopped coming to get anything from the cart. Sam wasn¡¯t back yet, and Elody and Sam weren¡¯t sure if they should be worried or not yet. They instead opted to close up the wagon, now being as good a time as any, and go find him. Just as they were about to set off, a Ratkin robed in what appeared to be maps and letters hurried over to them.


    ¡°Sorry, miss, but we are closing for the night,¡± Hugh said to the approaching figure.


    All of the locals had spoken some local dialect, but this Ratkin opened her mouth and spoke passable Adstrani, catching Hugh and Elody off guard. While she clearly carried an accent similar to the one the locals had, Elody could understand her perfectly well.


    ¡°I am not here for that. I am here for you, Ms. Kyne,¡± The robed Ratkin said in a raspy voice.


    ¡°For me?¡± Elody said, pointing at herself as though there were another Ms. Kyne nearby that she might be confused with.


    ¡°Yes, you.¡± The Ratkin said flatly. ¡°I am Brunna, and I serve the Mistress of Messages. I have a message for you.¡±


    The Mistress of Messages was one of the Myriad Gods, figures that embodied and ruled various aspects of reality. Elody knew of them, as did Hugh, and almost every child able to speak and understand language. The Myriad Gods were no secret, but a fact of everyday life. Even the Frostwalkers, as disconnected as they were, were aware of The Myriad Gods. The Myriad Gods made a point to not act directly, but rather acted through their clergy, and sometimes through any worshiper whose feelings or goals aligned well enough.


    Many people were worshipers of some of the Myriad Gods without being zealots or proper clergy. Elody herself venerated the Gods of Medicine, Plants, and Remixes in a small altar in her shop. It was where she offered semi-regular thanks and prayed for guidance. Every God offered a suite of discreet Boons to their followers, in accordance with their veneration of the God in question. Elody, as a pharmacist, had her prayers answered a good many times, where a medication was more effective than she had hoped for, or some plants used in a mixture made a larger batch than expected, or she was pushed to try a new combination while she was experimenting. She did not get any of the big or flashy boons some of the more pious members got, something typically granted after an especially lucrative offering.


    There were Gods of nearly any aspect of reality, hence the blanket term ¡°Myriad Gods¡±. Some ruled over mundane, physical aspects of reality, like the Gods of Plants, Stone, or Flame, while others ruled over concepts, like the Gods of Patience, Remixes, or Balance. Others still ruled over actions, like the Gods of Oaths, War, or Messages. All gods that existed had some worshipers somewhere, though some were far more popular than others.


    As the cultures of the world mixed and information was exchanged, it quickly became evident that everyone worshipped, venerated, or at the very least acknowledged the same pantheon of gods.  One culture might call The god of Scribes just that, whilst another addressed him as the Great Calligrapher, or He With the Mightiest Quill.  As cultures merged and more were brought into the fold of the wider mesh of trading and information, as was slowly happening with the Frostwalkers, certain terms became more standardized.


    How and why every culture seemed to acknowledge the same set of gods- albeit by different names- was a mystery to scholars and theologians. However, with the gods able to personally verify their identities via their unique, yet discreet boons, it was a simple matter to prove to all but the most pedantic and skeptical.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Not all pious had the benefit of knowing the identity, or even existence, of the deity they chose.  Despite the Myriad Gods seeming to cover all aspects of reality, there were still notable gaps.  Worshippers of the concepts of fear, knowledge, and silence received no boons, no affirmation of their prayers and offerings. Why such a discrepancy existed was a topic of great debate amongst theologians.  Some thought they were worshipping gods, merely unable to respond. Doomed Gods, or Damned Gods, they were called in that case.  Others thought the simplest explanation was the best, that for some inexplicable reason there were no such gods. More still thought that those gods had been banished or punished, somehow.


    All gods- or all that blessed their pious with a response- set forth their own tenants.  These, however, were not universal, nor unchanging.  With the notable exception of the god of Permanence, all gods gave guidelines for their followers to follow, in hopes of guiding them to the outcome desired.  The God of Messages had rather lax guidelines, and was largely unchanging.  Messages set forth that privacy was to be respected, brevity was a virtue, and swiftness was a blessing.


    To have a message delivered by a priest of the God of Messages was a rare event, but not unheard of occurrence. It typically meant that a message was to be made in either utmost confidence, or for all to hear. While the Temple of Messages employed many messengers, most were not proper clergy. Elody didn¡¯t recognize the garb of the priest of Messages at first, and mentally kicked herself.


    Hugh began to take out his earring, as a sign of respectful privacy, only for Brunna to shake her head at him. This message was for both of them.


    ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you, Brunna. What¡¯s this message?¡± Elody asked.


    Brunna looked around nervously, making sure noone else was nearby. She handed Elody and Hugh a small note each. Elody''s face scrunched up as she read and re-read the note.


    Stars has heard you, and you now walk the Path. She will not forget your promise.


    ¡°Stars? Who¡¯s Stars?¡± Elody face screwed up with confusion. She looked to Brunna. ¡°This isn¡¯t some kind of weird prank, is it?¡±


    Brunna¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°No, I wouldn''t dream of fabricating- That would be sacrilege! I couldn¡¯t-¡±


    ¡°Okay, okay, sorry, that was a rash accusation,¡± Elody said with a placating motion. ¡°I just¡­ I don¡¯t understand. Who is this message from?¡±


    Brunna just shrugged. ¡°My mistress herself gave this to me to pass on. She did not tell me where it originated.¡±


    Elody goggled at the message again, hoping to glean some nugget of information she didn¡¯t pick up the first time. ¡°Stars¡± was referred to as a person, but that told her nothing. She was well aware what promise that was being referred to, but she was somewhat unsettled by the knowledge that someone else- even if that someone was a God- knew about it, as well as whoever this ¡°Stars¡± person was. There wasn¡¯t a god of Stars, she would know about that. Nor was there a god of Knowledge to beseech, a fact that many people bemoaned.


    ¡°Can I send a message back to your Mistress?¡± Elody asked Brunna.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Will she answer?¡±


    ¡°Probably not.¡±


    ¡°How do I do that?¡±


    Brunna gave Elody a flat look. ¡°You already have. She knows all messages that are to be given.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Elody said, then gave out a nervous laugh. ¡°Yeah, I suppose that makes sense. By the way, can I keep this?¡± She said, referring to the note she had been given.


    ¡°It is for you to keep, yes. Now I must leave, my job here is done.¡±


    Before Elody could begin to argue, Brunna turned and left, leaving each of them with their ominous notes.


    ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï


    Sam had left the wagon in the care of Elody and Hugh. If he was being honest with himself, he was terrified of the number of ways he could think of them ruining his precious cart that he had spent so much time and money getting a hold of. He could think of even more ways they were almost certainly losing money by making foolish deals, and was absolutely certain they would mismanage customers left and right.


    This was why Sam was as honest with himself as with anyone else; not at all.


    He smacked his cheeks to hype himself up. He already went over this with himself, the losses were minimal- it was a net gain to have them run the shop while he took care of the big deals with the local shop owners. All net gain. This is what was best for him.


    It was a thought that felt as hollow as it ever did. Despite that, it was the only thing that ever motivated him: the thought of self-benefit. It let him do what he did, talk the talk and walk the walk. It let him butter anyone up so long as he saw something in it for himself. It drove his expressions and words to be both so careless at times, and also as carefully crafted as an artisan¡¯s life work.


    There was a part of him, however, that knew he should be a part of something more. Something greater, and fundamentally above what he was now. It was a the part of him bordering on a hole that lead into a white void in his heart and mind. This is the part of him that worried, and this is the part of him that ran in the background while the rest of him shmoozed the local businesses.


    In fact, while he was having this emotional crisis, he had already talked to the head of town, using common phrases he had long ago learned, and located the four businesses he would want to talk to. The town clerk did not notice his inner turmoil, instead thinking him a rather weaselish man.


    Sometimes, Sam wondered if he was really whole to begin with. Was he fundamentally broken? Or, perhaps he was a smaller node that broke off of something larger? Was he one person, or two? Was this part of him that worried a subset of himself, or was it a parasite from outside? Perhaps, its own person? He thought this not with words, or even concrete thoughts, these were passing echoes that rang out in his mind, until they disappeared into the white void in his heart.


    The first business was swept over by him as he secured the first deal. He sold a crate of paper, printed in one of the larger Snif cities, in exchange for four crates of goods to trade later. The rush of the deal flooded into him, the knowledge that he nearly flat out stole three of those crates- in terms of relative value- was an intoxicating feeling.


    This feeling did not sink into the void.


    The other part of him worried still. It asked what the point was? He could make all the deals in the world and gain more money and wealth than he could carry. What then? What would that get him? Kicked out, just like it had the first time, more likely. He knew there was a danger in following this feeling.


    He hadn¡¯t always traveled to sell wares. He used to be quite successful in Laskavan, and owned a number of businesses himself. He once laughed at people in his current position. Vagrants and mendicants playing at success, he would mock. And yet, his success brought him too his knees. Now he was on his feet again, walking the vast earth as he too played at success.


    The next business was not such a pushover. However, even such a stern man knew the danger of fire- and the value of something that could extinguish it. Sam sold him a mere handful with the promise he could grow more in his fireplace, securing months of food and supplies. The owner had no idea such a thing existed, and profusely thanked Sam for the item that might one day save his store, or perhaps his life.


    Once again, the feeling of gaining wealth swelled in him, the rush as good as it was the first time he felt it. The idea that he might have saved the life of someone else, or possibly many others did nothing for him. Those feelings went into the void.


    The other part of him cried out, trying to reach out for those feelings. It clung on to them until they vanished, leaving him feel hollow. The feeling of wealth swelled in his heart, and yet the interior of his heart felt only more vacant for the space.


    He chased that feeling to the next business. He realized he could pull the same fast one on everyone here, and it worked to great effect! He procured another five crates and an extra barrel of wares, all of it meaningless. Yes, they all had items on his inventory. They were each, in reality, discreet things. But to him, it was just wealth. Weapons, food, medicine, tools, poison, lumber, it did not matter to him.


    Despite his avarice, he did not worship Wealth. It was not a principled stand against the God of Wealth, as it would make a lot of sense if he did. It was very common for merchants to worship Wealth. Nor did Sam worship any other gods. It felt wrong, in a way that he never cared to explore. It simply was something that felt bad, and so he avoided. The other part of him screamed, insisted there was more, that he was scared, not simple!


    But he liked to be simple. He liked to regard himself as sticking to a few core traits. Not that this brought him any more happiness, but it hurt to consider the alternative- that perhaps, he was foolish himself for doing what he did. He was terrified to consider that he was doing the wrong thing, and he could be right if only he changed the reasoning why he did it.


    The other part of him felt that he was doomed, damned to an existence of chasing a simple high, despite having all faculties and ability to look at himself, and then look at the world and just ask the one simple question, ¡°What do I want to live for?¡±


    He never asked himself this question. He merely walked the path to ever growing wealth.


    The fourth business owner was not as profitable as he had liked. The feeling was as intense as ever, if only fleeting. Having secured everything he had meant to, he headed back for the wagon.


    He was startled to realize that it was already dark. Surely, his business had not taken this long. He was good and quick at what he did. How could time have gotten away from him so thoroughly?


    He felt dazed as he walked back, not noticing the figure robed in pale yellow papers covered in scrawlings and drawings. She coughed to get his attention, and Sam slowly looked towards Brunna, his eyes focusing on her.


    ¡°Hey, ain¡¯t you one of the Messenger¡¯s lot?¡± He asked.


    ¡°I serve the Mistress of Messages, yes,¡± Brunna replied evenly. ¡°I have a message for you.¡±


    ¡°Is it good news?¡±


    Instead of answering, Brunna procured a missive from her robes, and handed it to Sam.


    ¡°How do you get so good at pulling the right note out of robes like that?¡± Sam asked her.


    ¡°Just read.¡±


    ¡°Arright, arright,¡± Sam said, and read the note.


    Listen to yourself and ask the right questions, and you too shall walk the Path.


    ¡°Very helpful,¡± Sam said, his sarcasm bare. ¡°I¡¯m already on the Path- the path to being absolutely loaded. Thanks for nothing.¡±


    Sam crumpled up the note without a second glance and tossed it over his shoulder.


    Brunna bowed, despite the flagrant insults, and left without another word.


    ¡°Listen to yerself, hah,¡± He muttered to himself as he wandered back to the cart. The other part of him pleaded with him, trying its best to scream, but he disregarded it as ever as just another obstacle.

 Tears on a Bench

    The heat of the daytime sun in Ade substantially subsided as the sun grew close to the horizon. It was late autumn, almost winter, for the equatorial desert city. In this climate, most merely regarded it as the beginning of a rainy season. Temperatures dropped down as the sun¡¯s rays hit the ground obliquely rather than head on, and the air grew quite chilly.


    Ketta had a shawl draped around themself as they wandered the expansive palace gardens. They had spent a large amount of time there the past day, able to become lost in the sections with large and unseasonably blooming shrubs. Ketta knew that they had a so-called garden ritualist, whose entire job was to perform magical rites that would keep the gardens in bloom year round, merely so they might suitably impress any guest at the drop of a hat. They marvelled at the beauty- and the sheer exhaustive waste of it.


    They leaned into one of the delicate white flowers tinged in pink. It had a gentle fragrance that made them think of the color yellow, despite the actual color of the flower. It was so unlike anything they grew up with that it never failed to stand out to them. They had been Orivaughn¡¯s partner for eight years now, and the magnitude of everything that was available to the Medeah family still boggled their mind. The events of the previous evening came to mind, the cries of the people that the Medeahs lived in excess whilst they starved.


    Whenever Ketta tried to bring this up to Orivaughn, he always had a quick and dismissive answer. His answer typically revolved around the idea that this is just the way things were, and he had to maintain order, or something about logistics too convoluted to get into at whatever moment, and that it was more productive to focus on something else. For far too long, they felt that he was simply wiser than themself, more educated in these matters. After eight years, that feeling had begun to erode.


    This feeling sat poorly inside Ketta. They had taken to venturing out into the gardens more and more frequently, trying to clear their head. On several occasions, they even requisitioned outings back into the city, something that they expected to be harrowing, when in reality was comfortable and nostalgic They didn¡¯t know why they felt these things, and above these feelings, they felt bad about them. Ketta hated that they doubted Orivaughn- the man who had saved her life and transformed it! They wanted to be grateful, and in the past, they were. Now, Ketta didn¡¯t know how to feel.


    So it was with mixed feelings that they heard a familiar voice not far behind them.


    ¡°There you are!¡± came Orivaughn¡¯s booming voice.


    Ketta pulled away from the flowering bush, and turned to Orivaughn. Without thinking, their facial expression bloomed like the flowers next to her, becoming bright and sunny, without regard for their emotional state. Their body language shifted to the sultry saunter that they long ago learned to adopt around him, so as to prime him to be as pleasant to deal with as possible. Unlike the unspoken, the words that normally came so easily around him were suddenly difficult.


    ¡°Ori!¡± Ketta said after a moment, the word getting caught in their throat.


    ¡°Where have you been all this time? I¡¯ve been worried sick about you all day. I almost started to think you were avoiding me!¡± He laughed, an obsequious gesture.


    ¡°Well, it''s just that being around you is making me feel sick for reasons I don¡¯t understand,¡± Ketta didn¡¯t say. The thought fluttered through their mind, caught before it left their lips, earning a feeling of revulsion in their gut.


    ¡°I¡¯ve just been,¡± Ketta began, ¡°I¡¯ve been feeling unwell. Didn¡¯t want to make a mess inside.¡±


    ¡°Oh, is that all, is it?¡± Orivaughn said with a cocked eyebrow.


    He took their hands and pulled them towards a nearby gazebo, one of more than a dozen that dotted the garden grounds. It had a pair of benches facing each other and they each sat in one, leaving the other as their sole focus. Ketta couldn¡¯t stand to look at him directly, and instead looked over the wall at the horizon.


    The wall obscured the true horizon, but many crags rose up in the distance. They formed spikes that evoked the feeling of teeth, promising to devour the sun, should it foolishly descend so low. Soon, they would surely feast.


    ¡°Ketta.¡±


    They snapped back to attention, Orivaughn¡¯s commanding voice overriding their current emotional state.


    ¡°You¡¯re distracted,¡± He said. ¡°This is about yesterday, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Ketta paled.


    ¡°Y-yes. Yes it is.¡±


    Their mind raced, preparing for a huge, blowout fight over the state of affairs.


    ¡°I know it isn¡¯t easy when I ask you to protect me,¡± Orivaughn said as he leaned forward to clasp their hands in his, ¡°But I need you to know I appreciate it. You let me do what I do. If it weren¡¯t for you, I¡¯m not sure how any of this could work!¡±


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    A swirl of emotions mixed inside Ketta. The relief that he misunderstood the root of their feelings and the confusing revulsion they felt to that statement left Ketta unable to speak.


    ¡°I know, I know,¡± He said, ¡°It¡¯s hard on you. I understand! I know what you¡¯re thinking- how many times will I ask you to do this? And let me tell you: as few as possible. I don¡¯t want to burn you out! I need you ready, for those moments that really matter. Last night was one of those moments!¡±


    Ketta still was grasping at their feelings like a bar of wet soap. All they could manage to say to contribute was, ¡°How so?¡±


    Orivaughn laughed at this. ¡°How so? We just set them straight! They tried to push the boundaries of law and order and saw what happens when you cross the line! Had we not shown them the punishment, they would have robbed us of our possessions. And then, what next? They¡¯d start robbing each other! And then noone would grow food, and then chaos would descend! Utter madness, averted because we put down a measly handful of degenerates.¡±


    He shook his head at this.


    ¡°Oh, what am I saying? It wasn¡¯t we- it was you! You did your job perfectly, and protected me. You held that line, Ketta, and noone else could have.¡±


    Somehow, this failed to make Ketta feel any better.


    ¡°Just think, Ketta! A decade ago, you were just some gutter-dweller like a lot of them. You could have fallen sway to their calls for wanton violence. At times like this, I am truly grateful I found you, because you don¡¯t belong with them! You¡¯re special, Ketta. You¡¯re special, and you belong here, with me.¡±


    Ketta opened their mouth to argue, to say that they don¡¯t feel special. They felt like an assassin, not a Miracle. They felt like a weapon. Ketta couldn¡¯t find it within themself to speak.


    Orivaughn didn¡¯t give them a chance, regardless.


    ¡°I know, Ketta. You feel like you could do more with your power. You¡¯re a Miracle after all! And if anyone understands, Ketta, it''s us. The Medeahs have been blessed with Miracles generation after generation. Its just my rotten luck that I¡¯m not one myself, despite my three other brothers all being Miracles themselves. But I digress! It doesn¡¯t matter, because I have you. I¡¯ve told you many times, and you often need reminding that we know how Miracles work, that you can easily overwork yourselves. We know how to take care of Miracles, and doing singular, but impactful things is how you make the most of your powers. And you did! Even now, Ade has calmed down, and the guards have been able to arrest some of the people who stormed our gates.¡±


    ¡°I thought¡­ you let them go?¡± Ketta croaked out. They noted the sun has touched the tops of the crags, sending out long streaks of shadows into the gardens. One streak touched the base of the gazebo.


    ¡°I said they would live, and they will! But I would be a fool not to interrogate them and see what lead to this uprising. Besides, even with your contribution, they will need to be reminded who is in charge. Now, you should rest. None of us know when you¡¯ll be needed next.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to kill people.¡±


    Ketta wanted to cry, but no tears came. They couldn¡¯t allow themselves to look so vulnerable in front of Orivaughn.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you don¡¯t. But we all do what we must, Ketta. Think of it not as killing people, but as protecting me. What greater good could there be than that?¡± He swept out his arms in a grand gesture, emphasizing his belief in his words.


    "Yes, I¡¯m sure you could make a few people prettier with your power. Your ability to alter flesh is as miraculous another Miracle¡¯s power, but how can you best use it? That is the question you have to ask yourself! How can you make the most of your power Ketta? How??¡± Orivaughn¡¯s volume grew towards the end, turning a hypothetical into a demand.


    Ketta¡¯s throat clenched, once again unable to speak. Orivaughn was growing agitated, they knew the telltale signs, and knew how this would end. At this point, there is nothing they could do to stop it.


    ¡°¡®I don¡¯t want to kill people!¡¯¡± Orivaughn mockingly echoed. ¡°So, what, does my life not matter, Ketta? Am I that unimportant to you? You¡¯re the one with the magic, and yet you only think about yourself, and about anyone else. You make everything about you and your powers when there are more important things! Here I am, wasting away as I keep an entire city running and orderly while all you have to do is snap your fingers once a month! Sometimes less!¡±


    Orivaugn was yelling at this point, his voice echoing across the garden grounds. Any of the guard outside could hear him, even on the other side of the garden grounds. All of them knew to stay away once he had riled himself up.


    ¡°I just want the best for you, for you to be well and healthy, but you disregard me and want to hurt yourself. You want to always lord over me with your magic, and for what! To make yourself feel high and mighty? You¡¯re capable of so much, and this is what you want to do? Well? Answer me!¡±


    No words could escape Ketta¡¯s mouth. They wanted to say something, anything to try and assuage Orivaughn. They never knew what would be the right thing to say, or if saying anything was the right thing at all.


    Orivaughn stood up as he shouted. As though choreographed, the sun was finally consumed by the craggy teeth on the horizon, plunging shadow over everything within the garden walls. Ketta felt adrift in the darkness, the void removing all distraction, leaving only Orivaugn¡¯s anger as their sole point of reference for reality.


    His face was red as many of the flowers in the garden, his anger a whole-body experience. He stood in a stance that signaled a readiness to act, his arms apart and his fists clenched. His eyes were filled with a mania that only appeared in his enraged madness. It gave an expression that seemed to be a mix of rage and joy.


    The moment that lasted seconds felt like hours. It was finally broken when Orivaughn made a final declaration.


    ¡°You want something better to use your powers on? Then fine!¡±


    He struck out at Ketta, a blow landing on the side of her face. They were knocked down onto the bench, their head hitting the wood with a sickening sound. He waled off of the gazebo, then paused, turned back only slightly.


    ¡°It didn¡¯t have to be like this. This was your fault,¡± he said, then strode off to the palace.


    A trickle of blood ran onto the bench as Ketta lay. After many minutes of laying there, bleeding, the tears came.

 Old Man

    The sun was setting over Mego as Hugh and Elody packed up the wagon. Sam was inside, double-checking the inventory whilst the other two did the physical labor. The wagon was almost full this time, heavy crates and barrels taking up most of the space inside, leaving only a small area to traverse. While Elody and Sam could sneak through, Hugh would be confined to the front cabin.


    ¡°You know, Sam?¡± Elody began, ¡°I didn¡¯t really think that this would get much. I¡¯m glad it did though, if it means we leave sooner.¡±


    ¡°What, this?¡± Sam said, gesturing to the burgeoning wagon with his pencil. ¡°This is alright, I suppose.¡±


    ¡°Alright?!¡± Hugh and Elody echoed.


    ¡°Mhm.¡±


    ¡°Handling this was taxing enough,¡± Hugh complained.


    ¡°Wait, where would we even put any more?¡± Elody wondered. ¡°There¡¯s just no more room. Kind of puts an upper limit to how much money you can get at a go, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    Sam tutted and waved the pencil in a naysaying fashion.


    ¡°Sure, there¡¯s a lot of stuff,¡± Sam said, ¡°But it ain¡¯t worth much. It''s actually worse for us, since having so much weighs the wagon down, and those beasties up front only pull so hard.¡±


    As though in understanding, the beasts snorted derision.


    ¡°Where are we going, anyhow?¡± Hugh asked, now finished with his labor. ¡°You have only called it a large city. You have not told us anything else about it, not even the name.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I saw it on the maps while we were planning! It¡¯s a place called Hearth. It''s almost straight north of here.¡±


    ¡°An easy trek, then.¡±


    Sam snorted at this, earning a look from the other two. Elody gestured for him to elaborate, but he only rolled his eyes, and clambered into the cabin, emerging a moment later with the relevant map in hand. He used the wagon wall to smooth it out and make it visible, only for the corners to curl up. Elody took one of the corners, and Hugh did another as Sam pointed to the map.


    ¡°Arright, so. We¡¯re here, yeah?¡± He said, pointing to a tiny dot marked ¡°Mego¡±. From it, only a few lines radiated out, the largest web of roads much further into the territory. As Elody pointed out, due north of Mego was a more detailed icon of a town, labeled ¡°Hearth¡±. It was located on the northernmost point of a mountain range that stretched to the east, then south, making a natural border between the Snif territory that made up the bulk of this map and the Rhyth territory on the map¡¯s edge. Small round marks indicated a small area of foothills surrounding the mountain range. A little south of Hearth, where the mountain indication gave way to hills, was an unmissable star.


    Sam traced his line up the road out of Mego, emphasizing that the road was anything but straight, curving around hills and then making a wide, circuitous approach to Hearth before zig-zagging into the mountains.


    ¡°See this ugly thing?¡±


    The others nodded understanding.


    ¡°Screw this road. We¡¯re going the fun way,¡± Sam declared as he pulled his finger back to the penciled in star. A small line connected it to the main road just before it deviated into a severe curve, implying there was a new or small road connecting them.


    ¡°We¡¯re gonna go this way. It''s their Sky Ferry, and we¡¯re gonna use it to skip half the trip there!¡±


    ¡°I like shortcuts,¡± Elody said with an approving look at Sam, ¡°But why¡¯s it not on the actual map?¡±


    ¡°Because the Sky Ferry didn¡¯t exist when this thing was made!¡± Sam responded. ¡°Its not like this map can just be updated with magic.¡±


    He paused, stopping to think about what he had just said. ¡°Hey Hugh, d¡¯you think you could make a map that gets magically updated like that?¡±


    Hugh gave Sam a bemused look.


    ¡°I have made a lucky guess at magic that lets me understand your ridiculous demand and a rock that falls apart. If there¡¯s a way to do it, I don¡¯t have the skill,¡± Hugh stated.


    ¡°Well, maybe there¡¯s something we can find in Hearth for ya. Don¡¯t get yer hopes up though, Hugh, it¡¯s a town not big on magic. It does magical things without the actual magic.¡±


    ¡°Magic¡­ Without magic?¡± Hugh repeated.


    ¡°That¡¯s right! They use things pushing other things to make yet more things happen! I don¡¯t really get it, if i¡¯m bein¡¯ honest, but they sure can make wonders with their tricks. Take this neat little toy for example.¡±


    Sam pulled out a medallion from his pocket, then pressed a button as the clamshell top sprang open. Inside was a twin dial, with a long, thin needle and a short, fat needle. Each were pointed in different directions. After a moment, the long, thin needle jumped forward by a small, but noticeable amount.


    Hugh goggled at the pocketwatch, while Elody merely looked at it with confusion. To her, the object was an interesting oddity, but nothing with any value in her eyes. To Hugh, however, it was like a box of gold coins had been opened in front of him.


    ¡°It tells the time,¡± Sam explained, noting the twelve notches around the rim. ¡°Each big notch is an hour, or five minutes.¡±


    ¡°How do you know which is which?¡± Hugh asked.


    ¡°Long hand is minutes, fat hand is the hour. See now its¡­ 8:55 in the evening.¡±


    Elody looked towards the receding sunlight on the horizon, before looking back at Sam with a flat look.


    ¡°Now don¡¯t be like that,¡± Sam chided, ¡°Surely you can appreciate how this could be helpful when you¡¯re inside! You can¡¯t always see outside, this can help! On days where it''s cloudy and overcast, yer still able to manage time! You can al-¡±


    ¡°Sam, I¡¯m not a customer. You don¡¯t have to pitch to me,¡± Elody interjected.


    Sam cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed. ¡°Arright. Not used to proper employees rather than clientele. Where was I? Right, the Sky Ferry.¡±


    He jabbed his finger back to the star to bring the conversation back on track.


    ¡°Its a big ol¡¯ gizmo that they were building last time I was at Hearth. That was a few months ago, and it was nearing completion. Supposed to lift up an enormous platform and send it through the air up and down the mountain. The stated purpose being for importin¡¯ additional ores and exportin¡¯ the metals they make, but they mentioned it¡¯ll take passengers for a fee.¡±


    ¡°We will fly?¡± Hugh asked in wonder.


    ¡°Somethin¡¯ like that!¡±


    ¡°The same way that thing ticks?¡±


    ¡°Somethin¡¯ like that!¡±


    Pieces connected in Hugh¡¯s mind, paths opening where previously there were only clif faces.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°May I examine that watch?¡±


    Sam opened his mouth to object. The pocketwatches he had purchased were both rare and expensive- something he saved to sell to rich clients who he thought overvalued their time. Letting someone so seemingly oafish as Hugh touch it sent a shiver up his spine, but as he thought about the work that Hugh had been doing, he reconsidered. If Hugh was able to make one of these himself, that could bring in far more money with very little initial cost. If this watch was the price for future gains, then it was a pittance.


    ¡°You know what, Hugh? It¡¯s yers now. Enjoy,¡± Sam said, extending his hand and dropping the pocketwatch into Hugh¡¯s.


    Hugh¡¯s eyes went wide, and without any words, bowed deeply to Sam and immediately went for his tools, before coming out wearing a sober expression.


    ¡°Forgot that it was still dark out, huh?¡±


    Hugh nodded an ashamed acknowledgement as the other two shared a laugh.


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    They set off with morning light- 6:30 according to Hugh¡¯s new timepiece- making their way towards Hearth. The pace was slower than before, but the beasts of burden were used to such heavy loads. The cart moved just about as quickly as any of them at a very casual stroll, allowing them to walk alongside it for stretches of road. Despite the slower pace, they were making good time. Without having to stop to bushwhack through patches of forest or scrubland, the constant movement saw them along the road.


    As the trio traveled together, all three began to lower their guards around each other. They had been traveling for about two weeks now, and as they all talked to pass the time, they each grew to know one another better.


    Elody, naturally, talked about her home, Ade. She talked about the people she had known and the experiences she had of running her pharmacy. The troubles of running a business in such a place as Ade was a common topic for her to discuss. She also spoke frequently of Rudolph, her apprentice, and how much she missed him. Other times, she would share an embarrassing or amusing story that involved him.


    ¡°Oh, you should have seen him this one time,¡± Elody said, trying to talk through her own laughter, ¡°Rudy had only been with me a few months, and he managed to bump his foot into a shelf, knocking off a vial of this horrid-smelling foot balm off, and he managed to catch it- except the bottle smashed right in his hand! Oh he came crying to me, hopping on one foot since he apparently hurt it when he kicked the shelf. He was so scared I was going to kick him out over that! But a bunch had also splattered onto his face somehow- So here he is, hopping on one foot, goo all over his hands and face, smelling like hell, so I can¡¯t help but laugh as he¡¯s crying and begging for me to keep this sorry state!¡±


    Elody wiped away tears as the other two laughed uproariously at the ludicrous situation.


    ¡°And that¡¯s why we keep the smelliest things on the bottom shelves now!¡± Elody said, to top her story off.


    Hugh tended to do some of his runecrafting work whilst he listened to either Elody or Sam talk. He didn¡¯t talk as much as the other two, but even so, chimed in with his own stories from his home. His tended to be filled with bittersweet memories of the people he grew up with and only left two weeks ago. Coming from such a small village, he knew everyone by name. Essentially all the names meant nothing to the other two, but still, they listened eagerly. Or rather, Elody listened eagerly, whereas Sam made a good impression of listening eagerly. Internally, he was focused on other things.


    He also spoke about how he became interested in magic, and why Maril took him in. To the others¡¯ surprise, it was about how he broke the rules, rather than followed them.


    ¡°I was still quite young, mind you-"


    "Yer still young!" Sam interjected while Elody couldn''t suppress her laughter.


    Hugh gave Sam a flat look as he began his story again.


    ¡°I was very, very young, maybe seven or eight summers old. Maril had brought the village together as she wanted to share some of her insights from her readings. She had a staff that she used to amplify her voice, and this very same earpiece.¡±


    Hugh pointed his ear for emphasis before resuming.


    "She said she had spoken with some of the larger creatures around our village, and had struck a deal with them- that they would protect us if we left offerings for them. Up until then, wolves and bears had been raiding our food, and it was a major milestone to reach an accord with them.¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± interjected Elody, ¡°I thought the earpiece only translated things? How¡¯d Maril talk to them?¡±


    ¡°I get it,¡± Sam said with a roll of his eyes, ¡°Yer gonna say ''that was the problem'' and you showed up to Maril and knocked out an early version of that choker and super impressed her. Right?¡±


    Hugh grinned. Even now, the broad, muzzle-mouth grin of the Frostwalker was an intimidating sight, the broad slabs of teeth on full display.


    ¡°Oh, she definitely used the staff to talk to them. I was a kid, however. All I knew was that staff seemed like a lot of fun, and I stole it.¡±


    ¡°No way. No fracking way, I can¡¯t see you, Hugh, being a little cutpurse!¡±


    ¡°I did! I stole it right after her speech, took it home and tore it apart. I destroyed it as I tried to figure out how it worked.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s the Hugh we know,¡± quipped Sam.


    ¡°So, what happened next? Did you get away with it?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Hugh said, scratching the back of his head, ¡°At first? Yes. After I tried to repair the staff and made it screech loud enough to wake the dead? No.¡±


    ¡°That Maril lady musta been pissed.¡±


    ¡°Actually, she was incredibly impressed. Even if I broke her staff, I could have done much worse. She saw how interested I was in learning about how it worked, and took me under her wing after that,¡± Hugh explained. "When it broke, most of the fine carvings were disrupted. I was able to re-create it, and used the earpiece that Maril gifted to me to infer the rest. It took many years, but I eventually succeeded."


    Hugh pointed at the inscribed plate upon his choker to emphasize his point.


    ¡°So wait,¡± Sam asked, ¡°If you were doing that fer, what, over a decade, how come yer village wasn¡¯t filled with magic doohickeys?¡±


    ¡°Ultimately? I guessed, Sam. Learning magical crafting is a tedious affair, and I had very little to show for it, even now. I only have two points of reference, and I still don''t understand what I''m doing. Every time I try something, its different than last time.¡±


    ¡°I suppose that makes sense. What if you tried to remake the staff today? How would you fare now?¡± Elody asked.


    Hugh shook his head.


    "I have tried to copy these before, Elody.  It is not so simple. What became this choker was one of many attempts.  I don''t know why that one worked and the others did not, because I am guessing."


    They continued to talk and discuss the details of Hugh¡¯s new profession. He rather enjoyed the attention to his work. Even if he felt himself rather novice at this point, he liked that there was someone other than Maril in his life who cared about what he did, rather than regarding him as someone who can¡¯t let something go.


    Sam did not speak nearly as much as the other two, mostly keeping to himself and updating his inventory. He made quips and comments plenty, but seldom offered any anecdotes to share. The stories he did share were essentially all gossip and hearsay, offering no real insights into his past.


    ¡°It¡¯s like you¡¯re trying to be some mysterious stranger,¡± Elody teased.


    ¡°Ain¡¯t nothing to talk about, that¡¯s all,¡± Sam insisted. ¡°What, you want me to regale you with tales of how I cut some fantastic deal and made a ton of dough?¡±


    ¡°Sure!¡±


    ¡°Great, here goes. One time, in Wella, I came in with a big ol¡¯ shipment of lumber from downstream right after a huge storm wrecked a bunch of their boats on the lake, so I sold them the lumber at double price. Happy?¡±


    Elody blinked at Sam as he started and stopped his story in the same breath.


    "Sam?¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°You suck at storytelling.¡±


    ¡°Well gee! If only I knew that and kept my trap shut! But noooo, y¡¯all needed to pry into my mysterious background,¡± Sam said with a huff. ¡°Now you know I¡¯m just a boring man with a boring history.


    ¡°Wait,¡± Hugh asked, ¡°What kind of storm was it? Was it a blizzard, or a thunderstorm?¡±


    ¡°I ain¡¯t know! All I know was my wood sold well!¡±


    Sam was getting quite flustered now, and even started to turn a little red.


    "Yeah, Sam. And who¡¯d you sell the wood to? What were they like?¡± Elody added to the teasing.


    ¡°How am I supposed to remember that kinda detail!¡±


    ¡°I hope you''re not losing your memory with age, old man,¡± Hugh prodded.


    ¡°How old even are you, anyways? You never did say, Sam.¡±


    ¡°I ain¡¯t old!¡± Sam refuted. ¡°I¡¯m thirty in a month- same age as you, Elody!¡±


    ¡°You''re the one who cracked the joke about Hugh being a kid. That makes you the old man, old man,¡± Elody said with a grin.


    By now, Sam was thoroughly red, and stood up.


    "Y¡¯all are children! Hugh, get back to work. Elody, take the reins. I¡¯m walking for a bit.¡±


    WIth that, Sam huffed out of the cart as the other two burst into laughter.


    ¡°You heard the old man, Hugh, we got work to do!¡±

 Sky Ferry

    The plains gave way to foothills as they traveled north.  It was at this point that Sam told them to keep an eye out for the offshoot path.  The road they were on was a partly gravel road, but was clearly unmaintained for large stretches.  Sam warned the other two that the offshoot would be even less clear, likely just a dirt road made from passing wagon wheels, so it came as a shock when a fork in the road had signage that pointed the way to the Sky Ferry quite boldly.  Only Sam complained, as he had been hoping this would be his little secret, as unsensible as that seemed.


    As they progressed along the path, they rose quite high into the foothills, the path winding back and forth to compensate for the steep angle.  As they looked back where they had come, the sprawling expanse of the plains greeted them.  They couldn¡¯t see Mego from where they were, to Elody¡¯s express disappointment, but Hugh pointed out that was only proof of how far they had come.


    In the other direction, the mountains that had only been distant rises were now coming into startling perspective.  The jagged peaks were cloaked in snow and ice,  and no sign of vegetation could be seen from here.  It was a wonder how anything could survive up there, much less how a city could exist in such a hostile environment.  Even from their current height, the temperature plummeted, but all of them were already geared for the cold, so they weren¡¯t bothered.  Conversely, Hugh seemed quite at home in the mountainous chill.


    After a long climb upwards on a switchback road, at last the wagon reached something approaching level ground.  The mountains rose up menacingly ahead, and in the near distance stood something entirely out of place- a metal platform, with a small station attached to the side.  Enormous metal crooks stood in a line, leading from the station, up into the mountains.  Neither Hugh nor Elody had ever seen anything like it before, but Sam was elated to see this.


    ¡°Finally!¡± He exclaimed, ¡°Its about time we got here!¡±


    Hugh and Elody shared a look.


    ¡°Is¡­ this the sky ferry?¡± Elody asked.


    ¡°Sure is!¡± Sam said, before continuing in a less excited voice, ¡°Well, sort of. This is where we get onto the sky ferry.  Ain¡¯t here right now, I guess.  Oh well, lets go let the guards know we¡¯re here for it.¡±


    As they got closer to the platform, they could see the operation in greater detail.  The giant metal crooks did not mere stand in a line, but rather held a cable in the air, presumably stretching all the way into the city.  The station was also easier to see, split into two portions, a larger and smaller part.  The larger part had plenty of doors and windows, looking quite domestic, while the smaller part looked more like an office, with metal walls and even glass windows.  As they approached, one of those windows opened and an arm stuck out and waved to the oncoming wagon.


    They pulled up near the station, finding a pair of Ratkin guards inside.  The one who had waved them on was all smiles, an eager young man in a plain, grey uniform who was happy to have something new to distract him.


    ¡°You must be here for the ferry!¡± He chirped happily.


    ¡°Yep, sure are,¡± Sam said, looking around. ¡°This is a lot for just two of you.  Is this really it?¡±


    ¡°Oh, no sir! There¡¯s five others in the lodge.  Two of us take a shift at a time,¡± the guard informed Sam. ¡°Sir, I¡¯ll need your paperwork before we can allow you onto the ferry.¡±


    "Right, right, gimme a minute,¡± Sam grumbled as he fished inside the cabin for the appropriate paperwork.


    Hugh and Elody got out at this point, each taking in the sight.  From this vantage, the mountains formed a horseshoe around them, the opening offering a view of the plains and foothills they had just come from.  After taking it all in, Elody moseyed up to the guard station.


    ¡°So, where exactly is this ferry? Is it invisible?¡± Elody asked, trying to not sound like an idiot.


    ¡°No ma¡¯am! It¡¯s extremely visible, it¡¯s just not here now.  It should be back in,¡± the guard checked a schedule, and then a clock on the wall of similar design to Hugh¡¯s wristwatch, ¡°less than an hour now!¡±


    The other guard, a smaller, older man than the first, wearing the same grey uniform,  put down their book unhappily as they covered their ears.


    ¡°Must you always shout so much?¡± They complained.


    ¡°No can do, sir! I have to make sure all travelers can hear me!¡±


    ¡°May never shouts, yet everyone can hear her just fine,¡± The older guard grumbled.


    ¡°I rather like his youthful enthusiasm,¡± Elody said, adding fuel to the fire.


    "You hear that sir! She likes my enthusiasm!¡±


    ¡°Why are you still shouting when I¡¯m right here next to you?¡±


    ¡°Sorry Sir!¡±


    Finally, Sam produced the requisite paperwork and presented it to the guard.  Despite the playful attitude, they paid close attention to the work at hand, and carefully investigated everything.


    ¡°Everything seems to be in order Mr. Samengawin, Sir!¡±


    Sam¡¯s eye twinged at the mention of his full name.  Before he could say anything, the older guard got out of the station and made toward the platform, where Hugh was investigating the mechanism that was attached to the large metal crook that stood at the center of the platform.


    ¡°Please step away from the platform while we wait for the ferry!¡± the guard hollered as Hugh stood looking up at the mechanism.


    ¡°Hm? Sorry, I got distracted.  How does this work?  I see a wheel attached to the cable-¡±


    Hugh was cut off as the tiny Ratkin guard grabbed Hugh¡¯s forearm- a humorous sight, given the inherent difference in size- and tugged on it.


    ¡°Sir,¡± he said, steadfast, ¡°I insist you leave the platform immediately, for your own safety.¡±


    "Sorry, of course,¡± Hugh apologized as he stepped off. ¡°I would love to know how that works, though.¡±


    ¡°Not the time, Hugh!¡± Sam called out to him. ¡°You¡¯ll have plenty to look at once we get to the city.¡±


    ¡°Oh, it isn¡¯t complicated!¡± Said the younger guard, still sitting upright within the station.  ¡°It¡¯s a common question, and we have full clearance to tell anyone how it works!  This ferry isn¡¯t just for convenience, its also a proof-of-concept from our city, and our hope is that this impresses other nations by showing off the sheer utility and power that can be brought to bear to benefit all people!¡±


    ¡°By which he means the Rhyth,¡± Sam muttered to Elody.


    ¡°It¡¯s quite simple, really!¡± The guard continued, ¡°The primary cable system holds a platform of its own, a moving gondola! The gondola hangs stably from the cable, so we merely move the cable on a circuit and the gondola with it!¡±


    ¡°But how do you move the cable at all?¡± Hugh wondered.


    ¡°We spin wheels, using heated air or water to push them, and then use a system of gear to adjust the speed and power!¡±


    ¡°Gears?¡± Hugh asked, having trouble understanding the word.


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    ¡°Yes sir! Toothed gears.  The teeth interlock and when one spins, the other spins too!¡±


    Hugh, taking the idea of teeth quite literally, grimaced at the grisly description.


    ¡°Such a hideous maw must be dangerous¡­¡± Hugh commented.


    ¡°Oh, yes sir! If you put your hand into them while in motion, you won¡¯t have a hand for much longer! Hence the caution around the platform!¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t they get loose?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I understand the question, sir!  If you have more questions, you should consider visiting the Gear Barrow in Hearth, they have regular workshops on this topic!¡±


    Hugh turned to Sam, ready to beg.  Before he had the chance, he was cut off.


    ¡°Yeah, you can go.  Was kind of half the point of coming here anyways,¡± Sam said.


    Hugh let out a sound like a huge whuff that was an equivalent to a whoop, based on context.


    ¡°Sometimes, I swear, yer like a large dog,¡± Sam said with a shake of his head.


    ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï


    Seeing the gondola come down on the cable was simultaneously awe-inspiring, yet also incredibly dull.  It was visible from very far away as it slowly approached beneath the metal crooks, leading to a brief moment of excitement that quickly turned to boredom as the platform seemed to barely inch any closer.  It was that much more surprising when it seemed to speed up as it got closer.  The contraption was much larger than any of them could have imagined, making even Hugh feel small in comparison.


    The gondola was ringed by tall, sturdy metal fences, with a gate at opposing ends.  On it was a mountain of goods in crates, both wooden and metal- a strange sight for most.  Accompanying the mountain of wares was a small army of laborers, poised to begin moving as soon as they were able.  As the gondola came towards the station, it slowed down dramatically with the loud screech of metal-on-metal.  The gondola came to a tidy halt atop the platform, and the front gate opened.  Two attendants on board took a thick sheet of ridged metal and slid it off the side, forming a ramp for a man rolling a cargo-laden dolly to disembark from.


    Sam looked on with envy at the treasure trove of wares as the workers hauled the crates off with practiced efficiency.  Some workers began assembling wagons and carts to haul the goods abroad, while a few brought crates to the lodge where the guards resided.


    Once it was unloaded, one of the attendants called out for them to board.  In the time they had waited, another three groups had shown up for the Sky Ferry, one with a wagon, one group on various mounts, and the last was a group of pedestrians.  Each group walked up the ramp, showed a stamped paper they had received from the station guard after showing the requisite paperwork, and handed over a nominal fee.  The wagoned groups were shown to specific positions, while the others were free to go wherever.  Compared to the sheer volume of what came down the mountain, the platform felt empty by comparison going up.


    Once all the passengers were aboard the strange craft, the conductor- one of the attendants who wore a boxy hat- called out for other passengers.


    ¡°AAAAAAAAAAnyone ELSE?¡± They called out with a variable volume that would have been sing-song, if not for the serious tone.


    Once they felt confident that they weren¡¯t missing any passengers, they looked to the guard station, where they saw the plucky young guard holding up a green board.  With that, the conductor closed the gate and gave the two groups with wagons several wedges; they were meant to be placed beneath the wheels of the wagons, to ensure they didn¡¯t move. Once they were secured, the conductor called out once more.


    ¡°Please grab a hold of the side as we begin movement! Please observe as many points of contact as possible!¡± He ordered, demonstrating by holding on not just with his hands but also by wrapping his tail around the linked metal wire.


    Elody and Sam didn¡¯t have any issues, but Hugh was having greater difficulty, and was advised to sit as he braced a corner of the fence. As Elody wrapped her tail against the fence, she awaited the movement with baited breath.


    It wasn¡¯t long, as the entire gondola jerked with the sudden movement.  Elody expected another screech of metal, but the only sound this time was a shudder as they began, then a whine from where the gondola made contact with the cable.  The cold mountain air whipped her hair about with great fervor as the large platform ascended the mountaintop.


    ¡°You may walk about freely now!¡± The conductor informed the passengers.


    Elody happily did so, turning around to look out over the edge of the gondola.  As she did so, she realized just how fast they were going.  As they watched the craft descend, it seemed to be going at a snail¡¯s pace, but now she realized that it was fast, but its size and the distance traveled tricked her into thinking it slow.


    She walked over to where Hugh was looking over the fence.  The fence was large to any Ratkin, Timberfolk, or Adstrani, but the enormous Frostwalkers were a different case, and Hugh was able to peer over the fence unobstructed. He seemed to be lost in thought, a common occurrence for the curious soul.


    ¡°What¡¯s on your mind, big guy?¡± Elody asked as she approached.  She didn¡¯t face him, but rather looked on at the mountainside rushing past them with him.


    ¡°This is,¡± He said, and paused, searching for the right word.


    ¡°Fantastic? Unbelievable?¡± Elody offered.


    ¡°Something like that,¡± He breathed.


    There was a lull in the conversation before he continued again. Elody wanted to speak, but feeling that Hugh needed to express something, withheld her thoughts.  Instead, she took the time to clear her head until he felt ready to speak.  Eventually, he resumed.


    ¡°This is impossible. Or, it should be.¡± Hugh shook his head, then laughed. ¡°I love this.  I didn¡¯t know this could exist, but I love this.  I want to know how to do this, myself.¡±


    "You want to make a Sky Ferry?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps not literally this. But I want to learn how, and I want to make something like it.  Maybe something using magic? Or perhaps I can do even better. Perhaps I can learn how to tame those godsawful gears and mix that with magic.  Who knows?¡±


    Hugh laughed.  Elody smiled at him, but her face soon sobered.


    ¡°You¡¯re trying very hard not to think of home, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    Hugh went rigid for a moment, answering the question without words.


    ¡°How did you-?¡±


    ¡°Lucky guess,¡± Elody quickly interjected. ¡°Or maybe its projection. Thinking about home is what I¡¯m doing, and I wish I weren¡¯t.  I wish that Rudy were here to see this too.¡±


    ¡°I wish that I could show my parents this. To show them that you can do such wonderful things in this world.¡±


    Elody looked at Hugh, shocked. ¡°Your parents didn¡¯t approve of you learning magic?¡±


    ¡°No. They saw it as a waste of time.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said Maril was the most singly respected member of your village!¡±


    ¡°That does not mean she can change anyone¡¯s mind when she likes.  She is why I could learn at all,¡± Hugh explained.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Elody said, schooling her face. ¡°Well maybe, that''s why you¡¯re out here at all.¡±


    Hugh turned to her.  Despite his sheer bulk, he looked small and confused in that moment, his body language begging for elaboration.


    ¡°She knew how everyone else in your village felt.  People, at least where I come from, seldom change their minds about a thing once they¡¯ve got an opinion on it.  They need something big to force them to reconsider.¡±


    Elody took a breath to consider her next words before continuing.


    ¡°I think, perhaps, she knew that you would never succeed in your own home, you needed to go and find people who would encourage you, and work with you.  You¡¯re no different, and I don¡¯t think you would have left if you weren¡¯t forced to, even if that would be better. So, she forced you, in the end.¡±


    The rushing wind filled the pause with a constant murmur of sound.  Elody¡¯s hair flitted through the fence as Hugh¡¯s fur parted where the wind struck him hardest.  Hugh¡¯s eyes searched the rock faces around them as he thought about what she said.  Elody said nothing, wanting him to digest what she had said before she said the wrong thing and dug her own grave.


    ¡°So, what you are saying,¡± Hugh said after ruminating for a few minutes, ¡°Is I need to have something big to show them when I get back.¡±


    ¡°I mean, that¡¯s not quite what I was getting at, but that works too!¡± Elody acknowledged.  She had been trying to convince him that maybe his home wasn¡¯t best for his interests, but she was happy to impart this message as well.


    The sound of air became prevalent again in the ensuing silence.  They stood there together, watching the mountainside below them rush away. Neither of them said anything for a long time.  It was Hugh who broke the silence this time.


    ¡°Do you think I can do that?¡±


    Elody thought about the question for a moment.


    ¡°I mean, I¡¯ve only known you for a few weeks, but,¡± She breathed in deeply, ¡°Yes, Hugh.  Yes I do.  And I¡¯ll help you if you help me, when I need it.¡±


    Hugh bowed his head at this, gently bonking his forehead against the top of the fence.


    ¡°Thank you, Elody. That means¡­¡± He trailed off for a moment. ¡°I genuinely cannot describe how much that means to me.  I will hold you to that.¡±


    Elody patted the large Frostwalker on the shoulder.


    ¡°Fair warning though- I¡¯m rubbish at magic.¡±

 Gear Barrow

    As the platform rose higher and higher into the mountaintops, the world disappeared in clouds.  None of the passengers could see to the other side of the platform, much less below.  Some of the pedestrian groups waved their arms about, while a child started laughing and running about.  With the exception of the staff, none of them had experienced this before, and every part of it was magical to them- from the way the lack of visibility made them feel like they were soaring in powered flight, to the way the water coalesced on every surface, to the taste of the clouds on their tongues.  One of the passengers, a larger kind of rodent, seemed especially pleased with the feeling of moisture and laid down contentedly, as though the cold did not matter.


    Without preamble, the craft stopped moving upwards, giving everyone a momentary sensation of weightlessness.  Many passengers screamed, fearing that the novel craft would hurtle towards the rock faces below. Despite this, the craft remained stable, and the screaming died down.  Then, the craft did descend, causing a second bout of screaming as the cable that the platform hung from led it gently downwards rather than up.  After a few moments, the passengers calmed as the clouds gave away once more.  Ahead of the platform was still the reliable line of metal crooks holding the cable they relied upon, and beyond that lay a crucible. Not a crucible of fire- a a crucible of lights; a city nestled in the high mountain valley.


    The town glowed with red and yellow lights. Heat, steam, and smoke poured out as though from a stovepipe, forming a thick layer of cloud above.  The clouds were darker closer to the city, covering the city in perpetual gloom.  The buildings of the city were both enormous and multitudinous; multi-storied buildings sprawled out to all sides of the basin with few gaps to be seen from the vantage of the platform.  There were some gaps that seemed to be channels, while others awash in the unnatural light that coated the city.  Movement could be seen, even from their distant view. Large constructs such as cranes, elevators, and large rotating machines were frequent not just in the industrial sections, but many other parts of town.  There were also a number of large mine entrances, cavernous holes in the sides of the mountains that were the lifeblood of the city.


    ¡°We are now entering the city limits of Hearth!¡± The conductor called out.  ¡°Please be ready to brace once again as we enter the station.¡±


    The conductor went on, calling out instructions for all the passengers to make sure all paperwork to enter the city was in order.  The guards at the bottom may have cleared them, but it was easier to have the passengers themselves carry the paperwork themselves into the city for recordkeeping.


    Sam, Elody, and Hugh gathered near the front of the platform to take in the view together.


    ¡°So,¡± Sam began, ¡°Think you can learn something here?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Hugh breathed, ¡°I think I can.¡±


    ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï


    ¡°Arright!¡± Sam said with a clap as he addressed his employees. ¡°Here¡¯s the plan.  Hugh, you spend the day scoping out where you¡¯re going to be learning about these doohickeys.¡±


    He twirled a hand in the air to gesture to the many machines and gizmos that populated the city.


    ¡°Other than that, you don¡¯t have any duties for now.  Which means you, Elody, will be pulling double duty.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what?¡± Elody asked incredulously. ¡°Hey now, didn¡¯t you use to run this show all by yourself?¡±


    "Yep, but now I¡¯ve got employees to take care of the legwork while I focus on the important things.¡±


    ¡°So what, you¡¯ll have me dance like a fool again?¡±


    ¡°In a city like this? Don¡¯t be daft.  We ain¡¯t opening for business to regular customers here.  Far too likely we¡¯ll just become a mark for someone who knows their business around a lockpick.  Yer number one task is to babysit the goods while I go round and make some deals,¡± Sam explained.


    Elody blinked at him.


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±


    ¡°Well, when I do manage to secure some deals, then you¡¯ll be the one to haul the goods where I tell you to.  I know a good place to park this thing and stable the girls during our stay.  Speaking of which, you¡¯ll hafta take care of them, as I know you so love to do, as well as doing any other errands that occur to me.¡±


    Elody groaned.  As they traveled, he had shown her how to take care of the hairy yaks that pulled the wagon.  They were ornery creatures, and seemed to go out of their way to frustrate Elody.  Any time she tried to feed them a treat, they nearly snapped her hand off and would huff at her when she went near.  They would never sit still when she brushed them, and threatened to stomp on her feet forcing her to carry herself with excessive caution in their presence.  Sam insisted it was just a matter of time as they became acclimated to her, yet they seemed to have no problems with Hugh.


    ¡°My guess? They think he¡¯s one of them!¡± He laughed as she asked about the discrepancy.


    Elody shuddered as she contemplated the drag that would be her stay in Hearth.


    ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï


    Hugh could not be more excited to be in Hearth.


    He had been cut loose of all responsibilities so he could focus on learning more about gears and mechanics during their stay, and he wasted no time in looking around for places to learn more about this new skill.  He recalled the Gear Barrow that the guards from the lodge mentioned, and set out to find it.


    Hugh was quite the strange sight to see in the Ratkin city of Hearth.  The streets were made for and occupied almost exclusively by Ratkin, so the low overhangs of buildings frequently posed an issue for the towering Frostwalker.  People stared as he went lumbering by, many stopping to whisper in each other¡¯s ears.  The cloud cover above frequently resulted in drizzles and showers that left the cobblestones slick and shiny, and the strange glass orbs that illuminated the streets were often at his eye level, causing a great amount of discomfort.


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    Despite these would-be frustrations, he was amazed.  Everything was new and foreign, a source of amazement and curiosity.  The residents of Hearth were as interesting to him as he was to them.  Despite seeing Ratkin in Mego, he had been secluded from them.  Now, he was up close and personal and could see such a vast variety of them, noting the differences and similarities.


    Most of the Ratkin had dark fur, either black, grey, or brown, but every twenty or so there would be another with other colors, like white, rust red, or even dusty purple or sky blue.  Their tails were also of great interest to Hugh, as they were sometimes as long as they were, or not long enough to reach the knees of their quasi-digitigrade legs.  The way they held their tails was clearly a matter of individual expression;  while some let theirs drag on the ground, many had their bend upwards in a curve to avoid this.  Some swished their tails, while others kept theirs limp.  One resident dressed in outrageous garb even held their tail and swung it around in circles, seemingly disregarding the world with their strut.  Hugh found the ears of these people- whether they be rounded or pointy- to be unfailingly endearing, and idly wondered why they would have ears in different shapes at all.


    Just as the residents were fascinating to him, so too were their abodes.  The large, blocky buildings made from composite materials of metal, stone, glass, and wood were something he would never have dreamt of.  His only point of comparison was his village''s home, largely simple dugouts covered in fired clay and wood.  The inclusion of metal was striking enough, but what really stuck in his mind was the height.  While there were a couple of larger buildings in his village- the village center even sporting a second story and basement- the thought that so many buildings could be erected in such regularity boggled his mind.  It made him think about what makes it possible, and mentally noted it among many other questions he would ask once he found a suitable tutor.


    The city was laid out roughly in blocks, with streets mostly intersecting in perpendicular fashion, making for reliable navigation for those who were familiar. Hugh was not familiar, and found it quite disorienting.  Navigating was never one of his strong suits- one of many reasons he wasn¡¯t a hunter- but instead happily let himself get lost in the city sprawl.  He remembered the name of the Inn that Sam had chosen- The Slippery Jack-  and so continued to plunge into the city.


    The city was reacting to Hugh¡¯s presence, a rumor swept through the populace faster than the lumbering Frostwalker himself traveled.  Many locals hurried away to tell their friends and loved ones about the strange creature meandering the streets.  As Hugh went along, stopping frequently to closely observe some common local sight, a bubble formed around him as many Ratkin chose to distance themselves from him, but also wanted to see what he was doing, forming a ring-like crowd around him wherever he went.  Hugh had no point of comparison, and so assumed this was normal behavior, and paid no attention to them.


    This crowd made a barrier of entry for Ratkin who wanted to see him.  Were it not for this voyeuristic mass, he would have sooner seen that the streets were not just occupied by pedestrians, but also a rudimentary vehicle that was becoming popular.  Unfortunately for the large curious creature, bicyclists veered away from the crowd, keeping them out of his view.


    After wandering the streets for what seemed like weeks, he began to ask where he could find the Gear Barrow.  To his surprise, he was quite close to it, having wandered in roughly the correct direction to it.  Only a short two blocks away was his highly-anticipated destination.  For the first time since entering the city, he moved with purpose as he sped towards his hopes and dreams.


    ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï


    Malthus was an older man, and was quite satisfied with himself.  He had found success in life, becoming a clockwork engineer when he was young and quickly becoming one of the preeminent figures in the field.  His magnum opus had been as lead designer for the Sky Ferry, only recently operational.  With that success, he had retired from design and had decided to become an instructor, hoping to cultivate the minds of tomorrow with the tools to achieve what he had done, and more.


    Things had not been as simple as he had romanticized, however.  He had dreamt that he would be a well-known enough figure to command respect to the youths, but he had forgotten a critical element in that equation: They were youths.


    He rubbed his eyes with weariness as his students emptied out of the teaching hall.  He had spent no small sum in establishing his campus, not only buying enough buildings to make room for the teaching hall and workshops he and his students would require, but also advertised its existence to the whole city, ensuring that as many people as possible would enroll.  While he had gotten his wish, he simply underestimated how much work the paperwork of such a job would entail.  The sleek black fur of his youth had developed stark grey streaks, and was transforming fast.  He silently thanked the goddess of solitude that he had never wished for a partner as he regarded a new streak in his fur.


    He sighed, and slumped back in his chair.  The blackboard behind him was filled with the day¡¯s notes as he tried to explain what were to him quite rudimentary concepts. Instead of discussing differential gears, so that one may more precisely control the speed of rotation, he first had to explain rotational speed, the types of gears and how they interlock, gear reduction and more before he could talk about even these simple systems.  All of it was alien to his students, and it was his job to explain it all in excruciating detail.  He was well aware that his pedagogy needed heavy rework in subsequent classes.


    Malthus had been secretly hoping that he would get a class that had at least one exceptional student, someone who would just stand out at a glance, and would pick up concepts as quickly as he put them down.  Instead, he was blessed with a plethora of students who were smart, yes, yet none were the equal to the crack-shot he was at their age.  He had no doubt that each and every one of his students would pass, but they would need time.  They asked deeply insightful and relevant questions, so even when he wondered why they need ask, he was grateful every time a paw shot into the air.


    Still, he wished he could have someone who could keep up with him.  None of his peers ever could, and he secretly hoped a student could.  While he was wishing, he wished that student could help bring something new to the field, something revolutionary, so that he could see the field transforming just as he made his exit.  And, still wishing, he may as well throw in that they be like him, focused on the love for his work, and not the love of others.  He knew he oughtn¡¯t, but he secretly resented his peers for marrying someone who took up so much of their time. Yes, they were happier, but they worked with him less, and he was selfish.  So long as he was wishing up the perfect student, why not indulge?


    The door at the top of the slanted hall creaked open, a huge and lumbering figure squeezing inside.  They were no Ratkin, nor any other creature Malthus had ever seen before. He froze as the enormous figure steadied themself, and leveled their gaze onto Malthus. Then, it spoke.


    ¡°Is this¡­ the Gear Barrow?¡±


    Malthus didn¡¯t know what to make of this, so he nodded.


    ¡°Y-yes,¡± Malthus started with a trembling voice, before taking a moment to compose himself. ¡°Yes, this is the Gear Barrow. I am Head Instructor Malthus.  How can I help you?¡±


    It seemed odd to Malthus that this foreign man had wandered into this place of all places.  Malthus would have been more frightened, had the figure not spoken.  If nothing else, such a creature could be reasoned with.  Clearly he was not lost, so what could have brought him here? Was he trying to weasel his way into a connection? There was no way he just so happened to be curious about the local contraptions and overstepped boundaries as he sought to know what they were, at this particular time.  Was this a monsture luring him into a trap.  He did show some intellect, so that was feasible.  But if they were intelligent, then what if they were a prospective student?  A ludicrous idea that Malthus immediately struck from his mind as it came up, only to humor it again. Surely, he couldn¡¯t have come from wherever he was from to enroll, right?


    ¡°My name is Hugh Stonegazer.  I would like to enroll here and learn as much as I can about gears,¡± Hugh said simply.


    Malthus sat there, mouth agape.


    There was a long pause as he sat there processing what had just happened. Then finally, he responded.


    ¡°What the fuck.¡±

 Aint Stupid

    Chapter 15


    Hugh shook his large, shaggy head, unsure what to make of what was just said.  He took out his earpiece for a moment, inspected it, and then put it back in, satisfied that it hadn¡¯t broken, but rather merely malfunctioned.


    ¡°I am sorry, I didn¡¯t understand that. My speech assistance failed to understand that. Could you repeat it?¡± Hugh asked, still standing in the entryway.


    Hugh and Sam had talked about his translation device¡¯s gaps in vocabulary, and after several long, tedious conversations, had helped Hugh understand what those gaps are like, and how to deal with them.  Sam pulled on his long history of telling people what they wanted to hear to get what he wanted to help Hugh learn a little about how to choose his words.  Phrases like ¡°talkchanger¡± may seem natural in Hugh¡¯s own tongue, but to most others, would seem awkward and strange.  Sam focused his lessons on how to approach his own language, that of the Timberfolk, but fortunately the local language of the Snif was similar enough in grammatical structure that his lessons paid off, Sam¡¯s suggestion of ¡°speech assistance¡± proving to be a marked improvement.  He expected a period of awkward acclimation as he encountered any given new language, but was excited to have this tool in his belt.  With it, he felt better able to approach any given situation. Now, that was a gift he was grateful for.


    ¡°Oh, it was nothing,¡± Malthus said, glad his faux pas wouldn¡¯t be remembered, ¡°Come in, sit down. You said your name was Hugh Stonegazer, did I catch that right?¡±


    Hugh gave his affirmation as he attempted to sit in one of the small chairs.  His large frame couldn¡¯t fit into a chair meant for a creature a quarter of his weight, however, and compromised to sit with his legs folded beneath him in front of the desk.


    "I apologize for not having proper accommodations for¡­ such as yourself, Mr. Stonegazer, but if I may be frank, I¡¯ve never seen anyone like you before! What in the world brings you here? You said you want to learn gears.  Not machinery, just¡­ gears?¡±


    Hugh cocked his large head at that last phrase.


    ¡°Hugh is fine. And forgive me, again, my speech assistance is not up to the task.  I do not speak your language, and so this helps me.¡±


    He pulled out the earpiece again and removed the choker, then placed them onto Malthus¡¯s desk so he could inspect them.  Malthus readily took them, eyes darting all over the delicate inscriptions and magical minutiae that he could see, but not make sense of.


    ¡°Gods below,¡± Malthus breathed.


    He slid the items back, and Hugh replaced them onto himself.


    ¡°Tell me,¡± Malthus eagerly asked, leaning forward onto his desk, ¡°What is that exactly? It seems magical, but it''s not any magic I am familiar with. Is it even magic at all? It¡¯s no magic I¡¯m familiar with.¡±


    Hugh blinked against the rush of questions.


    ¡°It is,¡± Hugh answered, hesitating before giving answer in full. ¡°It is an inscribed set that allows me to understand the meaning of others, even when I do not know their words.  It is magical, however I am searching to understand more of this magic.  This has been my only point of reference as I search to create more items of this nature.¡±


    Hugh thought about what Malthus said again. ¡°What do you mean, no magic you are familiar with?¡±


    ¡°Ah! Well, most magical items make use of a magical core, typically some kind of energized crystal or some other rock that¡¯s been sitting in the right place for so long, its become infused with some kind of magic.  I¡¯ve heard of other things being used, maybe a kind of magical plant, the heart of a kind of tree, the heart of a Miracle-¡±


    Malthus shuddered at this last point before continuing.


    ¡°They use this core to direct their magic and run until they¡¯ve depleted it.  Different cores let you do different things.  The basic rule is the stronger the effect, the shorter the core lasts, and the bigger the effect, the bigger a core you need. Not physically bigger, magically bigger. More energy!  Ironically, this means that bigger cores last less time, which is rubbish if you ask me.  Part of the reason I stayed away from the whole business- it only works until you run out of sparkly rocks. I¡¯d rather¡¯d make things work from the rest of the rocks.  Give me anything, wood, stone, or metal, I can make you a device that can outdo and outlast magic any day!¡±


    ¡°You seem to know a lot about magic,¡± Hugh observed.


    Malthus made a so-so gesture as he leaned back in his chair.


    ¡°Only enough to know why I don¡¯t want to know more, I suppose. Except, what you have?¡± Malthus pointed at the choker. ¡°That¡¯s different. How does it work?¡±


    Hugh opened his mouth to reply, then stopped.  He thought about his situation, and how interested the man in front of him seemed.


    ¡°How about a deal?¡± Hugh offered.


    Malthus raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll listen.¡±


    ¡°You teach me as much as you can about these gears- mechanics- for the next month, and I shall tell you everything I can about this choker and earpiece.¡±


    Malthus played with his whiskers as he thought.  He thought for several minutes, making Hugh anxious that perhaps he had overstepped some boundary, but finally the gearmaster spoke.


    ¡°I shall tutor you for one month if you tell me all you know about these items and allow me to experiment with it myself,¡± Malthus finally offered.


    ¡°I-¡± Hugh began, but again stopped himself.  He had meant enrollment in the course, not direct tutelage.  This new direction was a strict upgrade, and so he prevented himself from blundering the opportunity.


    ¡°I accept your counter-offer, under the understanding any experiments must not damage it.  It is, after all, the only way for me to speak to you.¡±


    Malthus broke out in a laugh so exuberant it felt out of place in the wide, empty instruction hall.


    ¡°A deal it is, Hugh! I look forward to our time together,¡± Malthus said as he stood up, sweeping up the loose papers into his arms.


    ¡°Meet me here tomorrow at sunrise, before classes begin. Now, I must be off,¡± Malthus said as he pranced out of the hall, a giddy grin on his face.


    Hugh remained seated for a moment, taking in what an overwhelming success the encounter was. He stood up and went to exit the hall, stopping as he looked out upon the darkened street.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    ¡°How do I get back?¡±


    ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï


    After several hours of trudging through the dim, damp streets of Hearth, Hugh finally found his way back to the Slippery Jack in, the place where he, Elody, and Sam would be residing at for their stay in Hearth.  As he rounded the corner and saw the lights of the inn, a small silhouette that could only be Sam was pacing in front of the inn.  Sam turned to Hugh, his hands shooting up as he yelled in exasperation.


    ¡°What took you so long!¡±


    ¡°I ah,¡± Hugh mumbled as he slowly approached the tiny merchant, ¡°I got lost. I do not have a map.¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± Sam mumbled, ¡°You got lost and wasted a whole day. Shoulda figured. Fine, fine, I¡¯ll get you a map in the morning, then I¡¯ll be sure you get to the Gear Barrel or whatever its called.¡±


    ¡°You misunderstand,¡± Hugh said, ¡°I found the Gear Barrow. I¡¯m returning in the morning.¡±


    Sam lowered his arms and looked up at the enormous man with a raised eyebrow.


    ¡°Uh-huh. You just.. Wandered around and found the place from sheer dumb luck, and then got back again by wild chance?¡±


    Hugh thought about it for a moment, then nodded assent.


    ¡°That is about how it went, yes.¡±


    ¡°Goddess of luck have mercy,¡± Sam breathed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°So you have no idea how to get back?¡±


    ¡°Correct.¡±


    ¡°Did you accomplish anything?¡±


    ¡°The Head Instructor will be tutoring me-¡±


    ¡°Head Instructor? A personal tutor?!¡± Sam exclaimed. He looked around frantically, as though someone were hiding around a corner, waiting to jump out and say it was all an elaborate joke. Sam resumed his pacing, muttering to himself repeatedly.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Hugh asked after a moment.


    ¡°No I¡¯m not alright!¡± Sam shot back. ¡°We wind up in the right place at the exact right time for you to stumble yer way into the exact thing that you need to complete yer grand task. I don¡¯t trust like that! Worse, I¡¯m caught up in it! You didn¡¯t have any big revelations on yer way back, did you?¡±


    ¡°Well, I had a question for Elody, regarding something that Head Instructor Malthus mentioned-¡±


    ¡°There you have it!¡± Sam interjected. ¡°I should go find a chapel to Luck or Prose or someone and make an offering, or something! I am not ending up on their bad sides again!¡±


    Hugh shook his head in confusion.


    ¡°I thought you said that you weren¡¯t religious?¡±


    Sam was already hurrying off when Hugh asked. He turned around but didn¡¯t stop walking away when he replied.


    ¡°Well I ain¡¯t stupid, neither!¡±


    ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï


    After Sam had hurried off into the night, Hugh went looking for Elody.  He went to the stable, as that was where the wagon was stationed.  He couldn¡¯t see the animals, though he guessed they had all bed down for the night.  The cart was not where he remembered, but rather tucked away in a stall, one of several in a row meant for housing wagons. Two other wagons were present, but neither were visibly staffed.  Neither was the one he was looking for, so he went into the wagon to look for Elody.  Sure enough, she was amidst the luggage, struggling to stay awake.


    ¡°Oh. You. You¡¯re back,¡± Elody stated with the matter-of-factness that comes with the twenty-fifth hour of consciousness. ¡°Wait, that is you, right? You¡¯re not some shadow demon or a thief?"


    ¡°Shadow demon? Did I hear that right?¡±


    Hugh was becoming increasingly concerned for the other two members of his group. After Sam¡¯s scare with fate, he was hoping Elody would be a more helpful conversation.  Seeing her in such a state was atypical, as she was typically quite rigorous about maintaining a consistent sleep schedule.


    ¡°Have you not slept yet?¡± Hugh asked, despite knowing the answer.


    ¡°Nope! Good ol¡¯ Sam out there wanted me to watch the cart all night on the grounds that he wouldn¡¯t be awake to do so! But then you didn¡¯t show back up when it got ¡®dark¡¯, even though its always dark around here, so he stayed up to make sure you got back, even though that does nothing to help the situation, but said he still needed me with the wagon, so now at this point even if we do get robbed, I can¡¯t do anything about it!¡± Elody heaved with breath as she finished her manic rant on the state of affairs.


    Hugh decided against trying to make sense of her previous comment, and instead waited for her to continue.


    ¡°But! I see you¡¯re back, so where is our ever-so-gracious employer?¡± Elody said, regaining some measure of composure.


    ¡°He went out to make an offering?¡± Hugh said with little conviction.


    Elody¡¯s face screwed up for a moment.


    ¡°But he¡¯s not religious.¡±


    ¡°He claimed that he was not stupid.¡±


    ¡°What does that have to do with anything?¡± Elody asked.


    ¡°I-¡± Hugh began, only to shake his head. ¡°I do not know how to explain what happened.  He is away.  I have a few questions for you, if you could help.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best.¡±


    ¡°I met with a man named Malthus, the Head Instructor of the Gear Barrow.  He agreed to teach me if I tell him all I know about these,¡± Hugh explained as he pointed to his magical accommodations. ¡°A ready deal. However, as I wandered back, I was thinking about these, and something you said.  When you told us about how you got stranded, you said you got pulled through a ritual circle, yes?¡±


    ¡°More or less, yeah.¡±


    ¡°Malthus told me that most magic is unlike these items.  Most are powered by an item that has magical potential stored within it.  These are not like that, nor is the ritual you described. More importantly, Elody, how did you recognize the ritual?¡±


    Elody gave Hugh a bemused look.


    ¡°Hugh, I was dragged into the middle of it. How could I not recognize it?¡±


    ¡°If Malthus, a very well educated man, had been dragged into it, I do not think he would have recognized it. How did you have the knowledge to make sense of what you saw?¡±


    Elody raised a finger as she planned to retort to the implicit accusation that she was less educated than some random man Hugh had met the same day, but stopped as she realized that he had a point. Her face took on myriad expressions as her sleep-deprived mind rattled through memories to figure out how she knew what she did about rituals.


    ¡°I remember a few small snippets,¡± She eventually said, ¡°The circles are present in a few places in Ade. We are told they are marks of the Medeah family, proof of their divine right.  They do things.  It¡¯s rumored that one of these marks is at the head of the river that the city is built upon.  Another one marks Paron¡¯s Stand, just outside of town, where he slew an encroaching army with a flash of light. At least, that¡¯s how the stories go.  And then, there was this one girl¡­ boy? Person. This one person who came into my shop and was talking to Rudy about those marks.  They called them rituals, and was talking about them in the back. They drew some, but they didn¡¯t do anything, and said that the magical ingredients in the shop must have been making them malfunction.  That¡¯s why when I heard that the Medeahs were snatching people, I thought something like that, some magical powder might mess up one of their marks.  I meant it as a rebellious gesture, but instead, it saved my life.¡±


    Elody looked around as she spoke, letting the movement of her head and eyes focus her thoughts. She had never really bothered to think about these memories, and now that she was examining them a pattern seemed to be emerging.  Elody¡¯s addled mind struggled to put her finger on exactly what that pattern was, and lost the mental trail.


    Hugh was making observations of his own.


    ¡°So then, there is magic like this where you come from? In Ade?¡± Hugh asked.


    ¡°I suppose so, yes.¡±


    Hugh¡¯s mind raced with the knowledge that there was somewhere else to learn more about this magic.  Somewhere else he could dig up the secrets these sigils and glyphs and inscribed markings held.


    ¡°Your homeland seems to be an important destination for us both, now,¡± Hugh observed.


    ¡°Funny how that works out, right? It¡¯s like we¡¯ve both been put on the same path-¡±


    Elody cut herself off at that word as both of them looked at each other.  Hugh, with concern, and Elody with weariness.  Elody let out a groan at the realization.


    ¡°I think I understand Sam¡¯s actions better now,¡± Hugh said with a deep sigh.

 Listen to yourself

    The streets of Hearth were almost always dark and damp, heedless of time or season. As day shifted to night, or as drizzle turned to rain, it was only a matter of how dark or how damn the streets were. Glowstones, small rocks that magically shone with a dim, unyielding light sat within glass and iron lampposts. They provided only a little light, but the sheer multitude of them kept the streets of Hearth walkable at all times.


    Those lamps were one of many small technological solutions the Snif had developed within the last century. The culture of the Snif people was to promote the mindset of greater advancement; Technological advancement was their first answer to most problems. They put great emphasis on encouraging those who might one day lead great projects, like Malthus had with the Sky Ferry, in the hopes that these people would lift up entire cities of Snif people, and in doing so improve everyone¡¯s lives.


    The reality was more bleak than this. In order to pursue these projects, many smaller compromises had to be made to people¡¯s lives. As much as recent advancements in power and automation had been made, all of these technologies were still in their infancy. Most of the mining was done by hand, with only some basic machinery assisting miners. The slums of Hearth were occupied almost exclusively by generations of miners who would go into the artificial caverns in the mountains around them and dig out their people¡¯s future.


    This was not to say their lives were without benefits, however. For as hard as the lives were for even those at the bottom of the affluence ladder in Hearth, they too benefited from some of the technological improvements made to the city. While the grand Sky Ferry may be something they never used, it made exporting metals cheaper and easier to import goods the city could not produce. Food was no longer scarce. The ever-shining lampposts kept streets lit, and new housing was being erected and assigned as fast as it could be built, promised to those very same miners who made everything in Hearth a possibility, giving the next generation blooming hope that they could have a better life than that of their fathers and grandfathers.


    Hearth had become the largest city in the Snif territory. As an industrial powerhouse, it demanded a lot of labor, and a lot of space. The city sprawled out over the mountain valley to house all of its residents, but the mountains were a hard boundary, forcing the city to become denser than any other city outside of Timberfolk lands. From this confluence of density, population, and permanent light sources came a nightlife that had yet to be seen anywhere else in the world, save for the strange Timberfolk cities far to the north.


    Having spent most of his life in Laskavan, Sam was used to the rare city nightlife, and so enjoyed being out and about during the less active hours in Hearth. While the Timberfolk no longer lived underground, it had not been so long that their bodies had adapted away, giving them many similar advantages to the Ratkin- better sight in the dark, a tolerance for dampness, and a comfort in close confines. This meant that, despite the streets being designed for Ratkin and not some vastly different folk from far north of them, Sam felt comfortable in these foreign streets.


    Sam made his way through the angled streets of Hearth, looking for an appropriate chapel or temple. As much as he gave Hugh grief for not having a map, Sam did not carry one either. He trusted his ability to navigate back as he kept his eyes out for signs and landmarks as he explored.


    He was honest when he said that he wasn¡¯t religious, but Sam couldn¡¯t help but be a little superstitious. When too many things lined up, he figured it had to be the gods meddling in the affairs of mortals. Typically he only made the occasional gesture to the god of Trade, but given the nature of news given by Hugh, he was looking for Prose or Luck. He had no idea whether his paltry offerings would make any difference, but if he felt he was in the middle of a bet, he would make the safest bet he could.


    As he rounded a corner, he passed by a squat, beige, and entirely unassuming building crammed between a bookstore and a grocer. Were it not for a courier departing with a messenger bag crammed with letters and missives, he would have certainly missed it. His eyes wandered up to the plain lettering above the door that simply read, ¡°Temple of Messages¡±. He had been given a missive just weeks prior that he had previously dismissed wholesale. In light of recent circumstances, he thought that perhaps he could return to the answers he turned down before.


    The interior was as plain as its exterior, colors ranging from light brown to dark beige, with the occasional brave gray thrown in. While still open even in the dead of night, the staff was reduced to a skeleton crew, with just a single person at the counter, half-asleep. They wore the robes that denoted them as one of the clergy of their church, as opposed to one of the common workers.


    ¡°Wait a minute,¡± Sam said, peering at the lone figure, ¡°Don¡¯t I know you?¡±


    The figure jolted upright, suddenly awake at the sudden dialogue.


    ¡°Hello! Yes, this is the temple of Messages, how can I help you?¡± She said in a voice that strained to hide how tired she was.


    ¡°Yer the one who came down to us in Mego a few weeks back, aintcha?¡±


    The priestess squinted her groggy eyes at Sam, sat back with an eyeroll.


    ¡°Oh,¡± She said with thinly-veiled disgust as she sat back in her chair, ¡°You¡¯re the one who spat in my goddess¡¯s face. What are you doing here?¡±


    "Well I was looking around for a place to make an appropriate offering when I stumbled upon this place, Ms¡­¡± Sam trailed off, waving his hand in a circular gesture.


    ¡°Brunna Spinel, Priestess of Messages. You can call me priestess,¡± Brunna said flatly.


    ¡°Not a problem, priestess,¡± Sam said with a smile that didn¡¯t reach his eyes.


    ¡°I ask you again: what are you doing here? Last time I had business with you, you said you were ¡®on the path to getting absolutely loaded¡¯. Did something happen to your fortune?¡±


    Brunna sat at the counter, leaning forward with her hands locked together. She looked up at Sam- not much taller than she was sitting at the counter- from above her glasses. Her displeasure was painted across her face, having no one else present she needed to put on a face for but him. Behind her, her tail whipped from side to side in sudden, jerking movements.


    "I¡¯m hurt, Ms. Priestess. Do you treat all visitors like that?¡±


    Brunna tsk¡¯ed at the flagrant abuse of her station, but still sat up and took a calming breath.


    ¡°Alright then, sir, how can we help you? Do you have a message that needs sending?¡± Brunna said in a voice devoid of emotion.


    "Turns out, it¡¯s oddly fortunate that yer here of all people, at this time of all times. Like I said, I need to make an offering, in light of recent events. My employees are stuck in circumstances that might interrupt my business if I don¡¯t make sure I¡¯ve made good with the gods. I want to stay on their good sides, after all.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re making a wonderful impression,¡± Brunna deadpanned.


    Sam disregarded the comment and continued.


    ¡°Now see, I was going to drop an offering at maybe a chapel to lady Luck, but then I stumble across this place, staffed by you of all people at this time of night, and I can¡¯t help but feel that it¡¯s a, oh what is it called? A message?¡±


    Brunna dropped her face into her hands and let out a sighing groan.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to kill Frederick for talking me into covering for him,¡± She muttered between her hands.


    ¡°So naturally, first, I¡¯d like to leave an offering,¡± Sam concluded.


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Brunna separated her fingers to let a single eye peep through.


    ¡°First?¡±


    ¡°Well sure, seeing as how yer here, I was hoping maybe you could help me with that last message you gave me,¡± Sam said without a hint of irony.


    ¡°The message you crumpled up and threw away,¡± Brunna confirmed.


    ¡°That''s the one!¡±


    Another groan came out from the priestess¡¯s hands before she slowly stood up, her shiny black fur glinting in the dim light of the glowstones.


    ¡°I can help you with the first matter, sir, but the second one will require me to commune. Normally you would have to wait for the second request, as that is low priority, but right now we aren¡¯t very busy, so I am obligated to help you.¡± Brunna spoke tersely, her lips pressed together when she wasn¡¯t speaking at this point.


    She led Sam into one of several identical rooms, all featuring a desk, a glowstone desk lamp, parchment, and writing utensils. Offerings to the gods differed depending on their nature, and the god of Messages preferred his offerings to be written, and then burnt at an appropriate altar. It was understood that he received the messages the moment the missive was written, and burning it was a matter of both confidentiality and conclusion. It was also appropriate to donate to the temple for such affairs, but Sam had come with coin for this purpose.


    As Sam sat down to write, he paused. He knew that he had to write something as an offering, but he had no idea what. He had never offered to Messages before. He sat there, frozen, as he was unable to think what kind of message he could write to a literal deity that would mean a damned thing. He thought about his circumstance, and what he needed right now. What would he write if he needed something from anyone else?


    He put the pen to paper and wrote out: I O U.


    He exited the small room into the hallway, but Brunna was not there. Sam waited for several minutes, until the door at the end of the hall opened and Brunna stepped through. In her hand was a folded note.


    ¡°Here,¡± She said, handing Sam the note.


    Sam opened it, revealing the same missive as before.


    Listen to yourself and ask the right questions, and you too shall walk the Path.


    ¡±This is the same note you gave me before,¡± Sam stated.


    ¡°Yes, that is what you asked for.¡±


    ¡°Arright, I guess I wasn¡¯t clear- I need help understanding this, not just a repeat of before, Ms. Priestess.¡±


    ¡°Sir, this is the ground of Messages, not interpretation,¡± Brunna said flatly.


    Sam got ready to shoot back, and realized he would gain nothing from it, and stilled himself.


    ¡°Arright, fine. Thank you, priestess, for your help.¡±


    Sam handed over the donation, and made his way out of the temple with note in hand. He thought about it more seriously this time, but it still made no more sense than when he first looked at it. He had gone out hoping for some help understanding, and when everything seemed lined up, he got no answers. He reasoned that perhaps his answers weren''t out and about at all, that he was being told that his approach was wrong. Or, perhaps, he was meant to ask what the "path" was? Or was this all some kind of test?


    "Ah hell, maybe Elody knows something," Sam groaned as he made his way back through the dim, damp streets of Hearth.


    ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï


    Hugh showed up a bit early to the Gear Barrow the next morning.  He had always been a light sleeper, and had been eager to make a good impression on Malthus, who had yet to arrive.  Hugh milled about for several minutes, unsure what to do with himself.  Just as he began to worry, his tutor arrived.  Malthus jumped at the sight of Hugh, then remembered the deal he had struck the night prior.


    Malthus ushered Hugh into the hall, awkwardly repositioning things in the room to accommodate his large student. The two got settled soon enough, and got ready to begin.


    ¡°How will this proceed?¡± Hugh asked.


    ¡°As eager as I am to learn about your item on your neck, that can wait,¡± Malthus said. ¡°We should get started with the basics. I must assume you know nothing about this field, and to that end I will be covering things that you obviously know first, simply to establish common understandings. We have several hours before the first courses begin, and while you will most certainly not yet know enough to keep up, let alone participate, I hope you will know enough by then to take away some value from the lectures.¡±


    Hugh nodded understanding, and they began.


    The first things Malthus taught Hugh was about simple machines, those most fundamentals of mechanics. Levers, wedges, inclined planes, pulleys and axles.  He noted the ongoing debate amongst his contemporaries whether the screw counted as one of the simple machines- Malthus found himself in the opposition, claiming it to be a combination of an inclined plane and the axle. The surrounding discourse caused the term ¡°Screw you¡± to become a common insult in his field.


    Hugh was able to retain the vast majority that he was given on the first pass.  Malthus was quite pleased with Hugh¡¯s ability to keep up, and was quickly speeding up his explanations at he began to lay out the foundational elements of mechanics.


    This went on until other students began filing into the instruction hall, each jumping at the sight of the new student, but quickly settling in to laugh at others repeating the same overreaction.


    Once everyone, barring a couple of absentees, had arrived and settled, the lecture began.  While Malthus strived to keep it as normal as possible, there¡¯s only so much one can do whilst their students are distracted by a large, alien creature purporting to be their classmate and peer. Hugh did his utmost to fit in, but there was no disguising his size.  Halfway through the lecture, he stopped worrying about it, and decided that if the other students worried, that was their problem.  He understood he couldn¡¯t change who he was for their convenience.


    Hugh was doing his best to follow along the lecture, but was struggling.  Malthus was going over how principles of physics were married to mechanics and how they worked, but much of what he said was jargon, predicated upon what he had lectured on in the past.  Hugh looked at the other students, who wrote on slates with pieces of chalk, but he had neither a slate nor the knowledge of how to write.  For all his skill and practice with the magical circles, he had never known a written language. Still, he made a mental note to acquire one or several of these tablets. They seemed quite practical, and he thought of several uses for them.


    After the lecture was concluded and the other students had cleared out of the hall, Malthus approached Hugh.


    ¡°How do you think you did? Hold up alright?¡± Malthus asked.


    Hugh shifted in place, uncomfortably.


    ¡°I do not think I did, no,¡± Hugh said, opting for gentle honesty. ¡°I think I could have understood better were there not so many words I did not know.  Some of your drawings on the board were helpful, but there was too much information I did not understand, so your conclusions were out of my reach.  The symbols you use are foreign, and I cannot make use of them, either.¡±


    Something clicked in Malthus¡¯s head as Hugh said that last sentence.


    ¡°Those symbols? Hugh, do you mean these?¡±


    Malthus went back up to the board and etched in ten symbols, in order. Hugh examined them and nodded affirmation.


    ¡°You¡¯re innumerate, Hugh?¡± Malthus asked, incredulously.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand what that means.¡±


    ¡°Numbers, Hugh. Do you know what numbers are?¡±


    Malthus began to look rather frayed as he realized just what a dearth of knowledge Hugh had.  It made sense, now that he thought about it.  He had no idea where Hugh was from, so assuming he had any education whatsoever was a faulty assumption at best.


    Hugh continued to look puzzled- or what Malthus assumed was a puzzled look on a giant deer monster- so he sighed and resigned to the idea that he would have to teach Hugh the absolute most basic of concepts. He drew several local fruit of two kinds.


    ¡°Numbers are about food?¡± Hugh asked mid-drawing.


    ¡°I¡¯m just using them to illustrate my point, the fact that they¡¯re food is irrelevant,¡± Malthus replied in a voice of forced calm.


    ¡°These symbols,¡± Malthus began, ¡°Represent quantity.  They tell you how much of something you have. You do understand quantity, right?¡±


    ¡°I do. There are seven fruit there,¡± Hugh replied.


    ¡°Right, good. This symbol,¡± here he pointed to one of the symbols, ¡°means seven. We could say there are ¡®7 Fruits¡¯. Each one is one more or less than the last. One, two, three, so on.¡±


    Hugh nodded at the explanation.  He looked at the drawing of fruits again.


    ¡°If I understand what you are saying, then we could also say there are ¡®3 red¡¯ and ¡®4 green¡¯ fruits, to make ¡®7 fruits¡¯ total. Is that right?¡±


    Malthus was taken aback by the jump in understanding. He decided to try and push it, and see how quickly his pupil could follow.


    ¡°Yes, that is correct.  That is addition.  There is the inverse, subtraction. You take three from seven and you have four. These are the two most basic operations.¡±


    ¡°What are the others?¡± Hugh eagerly asked.


    ¡°There is multiplication, where you might take four of a thing multiplied by three.¡± Malthus drew a grid of twelve items. ¡°There are four by three things for a total of twelve. You see now how the thing in question is irrelevant, you need only understand the numbers.¡±


    Hugh nodded his enormous head, his mind soaking up everything he had been given and already reconstituting it into new understanding.


    ¡°Can you combine the two? If I may,¡± Hugh beckoned for a piece of chalk and scribbled on the board, ¡°You could say you have four times four- sixteen, correct?- and then add five for twenty-one.  How would you write that?¡±


    Malthus boggled.  One moment he had been teaching Hugh what numbers were, the next moment Hugh figures out arithmetic before he had a chance to even explain it.  He grinned.


    ¡°Hugh, I think you¡¯re going to do just fine tomorrow.¡±

 Storytime

    Elody was asleep in the cart, having had to stay up all the previous night.  She was still supposed to be watching it, but she didn¡¯t care if Sam was upset.  She was with the cargo, as uncomfortable as it was, so it was still technically attended.  If that wasn¡¯t enough for Sam, well, she didn¡¯t care.  She didn¡¯t think anyone would even bother coming in, regardless.


    The door jostled as it was unlocked.  Elody did not wake at this, only coming to as Sam opened the door and walked in. She sat upright, expecting a reprimand, but no such thing came.


    ¡°Ah, hey there, Elody. Got a minute?¡± Sam asked, uncharacteristically sheepish.


    ¡°Sure?¡± She replied, unsure.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Sam said, then hopped up on another of the crates, sitting down. ¡°I¡¯ve got some questions that maybe you can help with?¡±


    Elody nodded for him to continue.


    ¡°So, I got this weird note here. Got it from a priestess of Messages. Well, she gave it to me, then I threw it away, then last night I went back to get it back.  Now I feel mighty stupid. Anyways. It mentions asking questions and some road I gotta walk.  First time I saw it, I didn¡¯t wanna think I was tied up in anything. Wanna focus on my business, you know? Wanna keep getting money, keep moving up.¡±


    Elody made occasional affirmative sounds and nodded to show she was listening along.


    ¡°And then something about last night changed your mind?¡± She asked.


    ¡°Yeah, you could say that. Look, I ain¡¯t religious,¡± Sam said, spotting Elody¡¯s raised eyebrow. ¡°Hey now, I can be lil superstitious without being religious. I know all about the gods meddling in things they want. I get that. It happens, fact of life.  I just thought they were done with me, is all.¡±


    ¡°Done with you?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t wanna get into that just. Suffice to say, they used to have their hooks in me. Or at least, felt like it. I dunno. But then, you two spring into my life. That¡¯s fine. Mostly normal. I¡¯ve had guests along with me before, even if they haven¡¯t been quite as odd as you two. Brushed it off as  happenstance.¡±


    Sam was talking with his head resting on a propped up arm, while he used the other to languidly gesture into the air with his other.  It was very unusual of Sam, from Elody¡¯s perspective.  It was unlike how he usually talked, normally so directed and purposeful with his body language.  Now, it felt to her like he had been restraining himself and now he had been spooked enough by whatever note instigated this to finally show himself. His gestures added gentle emphasis to his words as he spoke.


    ¡°Then yesterday happened,¡± Sam continued. ¡°Its one thing to get a weird guest with me, another to have them explicitly out on some mission, and then its a whole nother country for them to just bumble into what they need for some outlandish quest while in a foreign town, all nice and neat like that. It stinks of the gods, you know?¡±


    ¡°Some would say you¡¯d be wise to not speak ill of them,¡± Elody pointed out.


    ¡°Yeah well, they¡¯re already messing with me, so why not?¡± Sam asked. ¡°And then there¡¯s you.  You were, what, magically exiled from some far-away land, vowing revenge on those who wronged you?¡±


    Here, Elody responded rather quickly, rather than waiting for a beat.


    ¡°What, do you think that it¡¯s clich¨¦?¡± Elody asked.


    ¡°Since you ask, yeah, kind of is.  Not what I was gonna say though. I was gonna say it''s naive,¡± Sam said.


    ¡°Naive?! What gives you the right to throw that at me? How would you know what it''s like to be an active member of your community, only to be thrown out at the drop of a hat?¡±


    Elody was standing now, looming over Sam.  Her face was a mess, her tail rigid behind her, and she wore an ugly grimace that revealed just how deep a nerve that struck.  Sam was unfazed, and responded calmly, as though she were still sitting across from him.


    ¡°I would know,¡± Sam continued, rolling his hand into a point at his own head, ¡°Because that happened to me, too.¡±


    It took several moments for Elody to school her face again, and then sat down.


    ¡°Please explain,¡± She requested.


    Sam pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out a breath.


    ¡°I really didn¡¯t wanna talk about that, but I suppose it¡¯s inevitable,¡± he said. ¡°Arright, lemme collect myself before I go on storytime mode.¡±


    He got up to grab a flask of water from the front of the cabin, then returned and did a few small stretches.  The space wasn¡¯t large enough for Elody or Hugh to stretch out in, but for the averaged-sized Timberfolk man, it was enough space for him to stretch his arms all the way up.


    ¡°Old man, remember?¡± Sam said in response to a raised eyebrow from Elody.


    After he finished his preparations, he sat back down and prepared to tell his story.


    ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï


    It was a beautiful day in Laskavan, the sun shining through the smaragdine canopy above, washing a walkway and storefront in golden-green light.  The walkway was a tree branch with a flattened top, with smaller branches that weaved together to form a barrier on either side. These walkways were not natural, or were they entirely artificial.  These walkways were one of the many ways the Timberfolk had learned to engineer the giant trees that they called home.  It was a lengthy process made rote by the Timberfolk engineers to convince the tree to grow in ways that, while immediately not beneficial, provided it with better conditions via Timberfolk action.  In essence, they convinced the tree that it was tricking the Timberfolk as much as they were tricking it.


    This was how the Timberfolk lived, by living symbiotically with the enormous trees they dwelled in without resorting to brute force.  This ranged from the earliest methods of arboreal engineering, such as the walkways that connected all residences and establishments, to much more recent and complex ones, like convincing the tree to grow fruits at specific locations and causing glowing growths to appear that lit homes and paths alike.  It was in this way that the Timberfolk people shaped a city that would care for its residents equitably, while the residents cared for it in turn.


    Even as the tree of Laskavan was engineered to take care of everyone¡¯s basic needs, there were still those who grew food, produced goods, and sold them.  There were merchants and distributors, artisans and laborers. Laskavan did no more than provide the basics, and people wanted more than just to survive; People invariably want to thrive.  Additionally, despite centuries of work, Laskavan still did not provide enough for all who resided in and around it.  It was an ongoing, multi-generational project, and needed supplemental resources while it progressed.  Perhaps, it would never be able to support everyone, but they would strive as a collective to reach that point.


    Samengawin lived in this collective his whole life, up until this point.  He had recently turned twenty six years of age, and was the proud owner of a grocery.  He owned it entirely, and operated it with the assistance of several hired hands, though he personally managed the vast majority, leaving largely the manual labor to his employees.


    He built the store from the branch up when he was sixteen, as soon as he was regarded as an adult.  He had always possessed a strong drive to contribute when he was a child, and as he had grown into an adult, that transmuted into the idea that in order to help those around him, he needed wealth.  Even as an adolescent, he understood that wealth was not merely money or items of value.  He knew that investing in infrastructure and systems were wealth as well, and often the most valuable things of all. After all, what was Laskavan if not such an investment, he thought.


    The early years of his store were tough, but good.  He learned how to source goods from distributors or make orders from the farmers and orchardists beyond.  He was a quick study in how to ingratiate himself to those with more means than himself so that he could borrow from them, all so that he could make his own business better.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    In those early times, his success was measured not by his immediate returns, but by his shrewd decision-making, knowing what kinds of promises he could make, and which ones were worth it.  He cut corners where it affected himself, to further funnel resources into his business, but maintained integrity elsewhere.  He had a personal pride that his employees always were paid appropriately, even when that meant he suffered in the short term.  He needed not fear starvation nor homelessness, and muddled through.


    By the fifth year, when he was twenty-one, his business entered the black.  He had paid off his debts, and was able to breathe easy.  His grocer, while far from the only one, was a popular shopping location, thanks to its wide selection of goods that were either more available, or available at all.


    This was where his business should have reached its own adulthood, where improvements could always continue, but in minor ways. Sam wanted more, however.  He had seen how his actions directly benefited the community around him.  Many of the things he offered couldn¡¯t be found elsewhere, and wanted more of that.  He thought about how much easier it would be to offer his goods if he had better access to his own distribution.


    He struck a deal with a struggling distributor.  They had been struggling to make connections, and could not pay their staff enough.  The staff who could easily make more elsewhere left, and the remainder of the staff were less and less adept at the job, causing a feedback loop.  Sam offered to ensure they could always pay their staff. After all, he didn¡¯t want the workers to suffer, and a quality business needed to compensate those who made it function.  In return, however, he demanded that this distributor work exclusively for him.


    The city of Laskavan did not care for this.  The city warned Sam that what he was doing was illegal, and that he was not allowed to own more than a single business. Sam argued that he did not own the distributors, that the original owners remained and that there was clear separation between the two entities.  The fact that they worked for him exclusively for him and under his paycheck was irrelevant, he argued, and would only make Laskavan a better place.


    The argument continued over the course of a year, by which time Sam¡¯s words seemed to ring true.  His already wide selection became wider, and no more expensive than they were.  Many seasonal items were available in larger numbers, and for larger windows of time, and the city was suitably impressed. Still, they made clear that this was toeing a line, and he should be careful.


    As much as Sam insisted that he heeded their words, he could not stop himself.  He thought of loopholes and ways to get around the edict.  When a friend of his from childhood asked for his help, he saw an opportunity.  He offered his friend the means by which to  build a business of his own, much in the same way Sam had acquired means to build his year ago. They made an agreement that his friend would act under him, though not in any legal capacity. In this way, they could both benefit- His friend could acquire an artisanal workshop, and Sam would get priority access to his goods for a reduced rate.


    The immediate response was amazing. It took only a year for his friend to get set up, and when Sam was twenty four, his business was booming. Not only did it offer quality groceries, but now it offered a selection of home goods that complemented his existing sales.  Laskavan had no laws against this, many businesses selling another groups goods to improve distribution. While the practice was common, Sam¡¯s under-the-table priority access to these goods gave him a slight edge.


    That slight edge was all he needed.  He began investing his gains into more under-the-table deals, skirting the legal pressure he had been given in order to expand his wealth and ability. While it was all ostensibly in the name of serving his community better, other nearby businesses began to chafe.  They saw his rapid expansion and knew something wasn¡¯t right.  While any of them would have similarly jumped to do the same, their fear of legal repercussion kept them from doing so.  They felt the pressure he was exerting, as many of their customers and business offers slowed down, as his slight edge quickly snowballed into an overwhelming advantage that choked out his competition.


    Over the next two years, Sam¡¯s business had ever more goods to offer and more customers as he was able to get more goods at cheaper prices.  His subsidiaries- though he would never call them as such- offered goods at cut-rate prices, which allowed his wares to be sold for much, much less than anyone else.


    Then, it was all over.


    When Sam was twenty-six, he was approached once more by the city.  They had received complaints about his business practices, and decided to investigate.  Sam argued again that he only owned the one business, and none of his partners were exclusive. The city refuted this fact, citing their findings as they laid out his under-the-table deals they had sniffed out.


    While Sam had funded his subsidiaries, he had stretched himself too thin, long having abandoned any idea of directly overseeing their operations.  He thought he had been providing enough to them to ensure workers were compensated, that his dealings, while sketchy, were fair. The reality was sobering: his subsidiaries were little better than sweatshops, with bad working conditions and insufficient compensation.  They showed him that his miraculous prices and availability directly rested upon worker abuse. This, they said, was a crime.


    Sam was heartbroken.  When he made these deals, he had trusted these people.  He had done so intending to make his community better, and to help provide for the city of Laskavan.  The reality was that over the prior five years, he had let his success go to his head, and greed grasp his heart.  He was only striving for a feeling of more and more, and it was becoming evident.


    Laskavan understood his motive and why he had been driven to do these things. On its own, it was a beautiful desire, but one that was easily corrupted.  He had been warned, and so he would be stripped of his business.  However, that did not have to be the end for the shrewd businessman Samengawin- he was offered a position within the city of Laskavan¡¯s government, to become a part of the public distribution.  The city saw his skill in negotiating and balancing resource acquisition, and thought it would be a shame to discard that, if only he would continue in a capacity that was more regimented and controlled by the law of the city.


    Sam of five years prior would have taken the deal, would have seen that such an offer was only a step towards his ultimate goal of helping people.  But as greed interposed into his heart, promising the only way to help was to become wealthier, he balked.  He cursed the city, claiming that it was tyrannical to prevent people from helping others through personal advancement.


    The city was more than just one person, and was an entity that had existed now for hundreds of years.  They had seen people like Sam before, and when allowed to continue in the past, they undermined the same communities they claimed to serve.  The city did not purport to have perfect law, citing that as the reason he was only given a warning in the first place at all.


    Their rules were just as the tree they lived upon, rules to coax out the best for everyone.  The tree may feel that growing branches in odd directions to be counterproductive, yet the city encouraged Laskavan and gave it means to grow.  When it began to rebel, they had to take drastic action.  Sam was rebelling, and it was time for drastic action.


    On that sun-dappled walkway that led to his storefront, a Samengawin of twenty-six years was given notice that he was to vacate premises and surrender everything to the city.  He was barred from ever owning property within the city again.  He was asked to leave; he was no longer welcome here.


    ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï


    ¡°Of course, I couldn¡¯t just let them punish me for my success.  I pocketed some extra coin, bought a wagon on the way out, and charted a course for another city. If I couldn¡¯t do business at home, I¡¯d do business abroad. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be allowed back, not that I wanna go anyways!¡± Sam concluded with a huff.


    Elody waited to make sure he was done with his story, then let out a long breath.


    ¡°Well,¡± she breathed, ¡°That explains¡­ a lot.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like talking about it.  Reminds me of my past failures. I wanna focus on the future, not the past,¡± Sam said.


    Elody looked at Sam with worried eyes. She had a lot of thoughts about what he had just told her, but held her tongue.  She knew there was no point telling him that now, he was only now beginning to open up to her, and immediately sharing her own views would only close that off.  She was stuck with him for a while, and wanted to engender trust with him.  If she kept that up, perhaps in the future she could share her thoughts, and he might just take them to heart.


    ¡°The hell is that look for?¡± Sam asked derisively.


    ¡°Sorry, it''s just that your story has a lot of parallels to mine,¡± She lied, ¡°We were both business owners, we were both trying to help our communities, and then the forces that be cast us out for it. I can sympathize.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want yer damn pity!¡± Sam spat without hesitation.


    Elody realized that she would have to play it extra safe if she wanted to make any headway with Sam.  A little emotional effort now would make the long trip back to Ade much, much more bearable.  Plus, she had already promised Hugh she would help him, so she couldn¡¯t just jump ship, not unless she absolutely had to.


    ¡°Not pity, Sam. Just sympathy.¡±


    Elody sighed.


    ¡°It feels like it''s been a year since I got exiled, you know. Even though it happened less than two months ago. It also feels like yesterday. It¡¯s both at the same time,¡± Elody said.


    Sam calmed down at this.  Holding in these feelings had caused them to fester, and now that he was opening up, his attitude stank.  He saw she was trying to clear the air, and accepted the gesture.


    ¡°Yeah, I get that.  I mean, it has been years for me, but at the beginning, yeah, felt like that. Everything was new, and it was so much to take in.  But also, it still feels so fresh to me, like it just happened,¡± Sam said.


    Sam huffed, then his chest started heaving as he leaned back and looked upwards to disguise the tears streaming down his face.  He hated crying, and he hated crying in front of people even more.  It made him feel out of control, but he couldn¡¯t help it this time.  He had been holding so much in for the past several years.


    Elody had to stifle a chuckle, seeing Sam in such a state.  Seeing the normally uptight man bawl like a baby in front of her was fairly amusing, though she knew well not to share that. She also knew the pain, and knew not to keep it inside, having cried many times about it already. She had her path, she just had to stay on it.


    Sam¡¯s tears came to an end, and he wiped away the excess.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you tell a peep of this to Hugh,¡± he ordered.


    ¡°The crying or the story?¡± Elody asked?


    ¡°Either.¡±


    Elody tapped her chin in thought.


    ¡°About the crying, my lips are sealed. The story, well,¡± She said, ¡°You may want to tell him that yourself. Not right away, but soon.  If you want to work with him, he deserves your honesty.  He¡¯s a good kid, he won¡¯t be mean about it.  Hell, it¡¯ll likely endear you to him somewhat, just knowing you¡¯re not such a hardass.¡±


    Sam laughed, clearing some tension.


    ¡°Arright, Elody. I think I¡¯ll do that. Now, it''s high time I got some work outta you today, I have some crates that need moving.¡±


    Elody got up without complaint and grabbed the indicated crate. Before she did, Sam got her attention once more.


    ¡°Oh, and Elody? Thank you.¡±

 To Make the Mundane Arcane

    The governor¡¯s mansion of Ade was situated outside of the town proper, within its own walled enclave. It was separate, but not so far that one could not simply walk to and from in a short time. Many residences lay outside the walls of Ade, giving it a sprawl that would seem like a growing mold from above, with one peculiarity: none were situated between the city and its governance.


    The road was kept clear by Medeah¡¯s edicts, and enforced by the frequent patrols of guards meant that anyone looking to leave the Medean enclave had to be clever about their comings and goings. Ketta was clever, and had long learned how they could spoof their activities without arousing suspicion.


    It wasn¡¯t that Ketta thought that what they were doing was wrong. They merely wanted to leave the walled area in peace and socialize with normal people for a while. Talk to someone that wasn¡¯t the governor or under his direct employ. They wanted friends, but Orivaugn did not approve. While he had never explicitly forbade such actions- the only reason Ketta had been comfortable bending the rules, historically- he consistently reacted negatively when they had been open about their activities, so they had become far more clandestine.


    Nowadays, Ketta went on shopping trips with very few purchases, did inspections where the guards had a hard time keeping up, or communicating with local community figures as an official of the Medeahs. They recently had used the shopping trip excuse, and so was out ¡°communicating¡± today with local figures- figures who just so happened to be Ketta¡¯s friends.


    While Orivaughn would consistently push that such meetings should happen within the enclave grounds for security purposes, Ketta insisted upon a few locations that would better serve to send the messages the Medeahs wanted to send by establishing communication where locals felt more comfortable. It was bogus, but Orivaughn ultimately relented, giving them a few meeting rooms where they could invite others and have some of the only talks free from the ears of the Medean Consul. Supposedly, Ketta was those ears.


    Today, Ketta had chosen the upper floor of an upscale restaurant. The entire floor was cleared of normal clientele, and all other tables and chairs had been moved to the sides of the room. Guards were posted at the bottom of the flight of stairs that led up, and allowed the servers to pass them after a brief inspection. The guards were too far to eavesdrop, but close enough to come when called or if commotion broke out.


    Sitting around the llarge, ornate wooden table- An opulent and expensive item in the desert environs of Ade- were three people. One was a portly man with skin reminiscent of red, unfired clay, a typical color for the Adstrani people. His hair was grey and thin, reflecting his age. It didn¡¯t seem to bother him, as we wore a bright smile by default, one that endeared more people to him with his typically sunny disposition. This was the once captain Quintus, recently removed from service. He had been invited to the meeting as a kind of debriefing, or so Ketta told Orivaughn, to ensure he didn¡¯t take his removal unkindly. Outwardly, he didn¡¯t seem to.


    The other person was a young brunette named Crystal. She was just a little shorter than Quintus, but taller than Ketta by several inches. She had a very lanky build, with shoulders that wouldn''t seem so broad if only she wasn¡¯t so gangly. She dressed in looser clothes, self-conscious of her appearance. She was also an aspiring alchemist, interested in the pharmacy that had recently been ¡°vacated¡± by its owner. She was invited to discuss that very topic. Just because that was the stated reason for their meeting, the reality was far more casual.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know Crystal, I think you should try something more form fitting,¡± Ketta suggested.


    ¡°I really don''t think I could pull it off. I don¡¯t really have the right frame, you know?¡± Crystal said with a scratch of her head.


    ¡°At least you have a frame that can fit into most clothes!¡± Quintus guffawed as Ketta gave him a flat look. Ketta rolled her eyes and resumed.


    ¡°There are other options. I¡¯ve been there, your body is still shifting, still pretty young, trying to figure out what style is your style. For me, I found these more rigid vestments to strike a healthy balance between professionalism and androgyny.¡±


    ¡°You must always be boiling in those!¡± Crystal said, plucking at her sheer fabrics. ¡°At least these keep me cool.¡±


    ¡°But, if you¡¯re really unsure of yourself, I could always give you a little boost-¡± Ketta offered, but was cut off.


    ¡°No,¡± Crystal said, ¡°I¡¯ve told you before, that completely undermines my experiment. It has to be my way.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to intrude, young lady, but what exactly is your experiment?¡± Quintus asked.


    Crystal looked to Ketta for reassurance, who gave it by way of a smiling nod, a gesture that said ¡®go ahead!¡¯.


    ¡°Well,¡± Crystal began awkwardly, ¡°It¡¯s a kind of, how should I put it. Feminine enhancement?¡±


    Ketta again nodded encouragement. Crystal took a breath and continued.


    ¡°It¡¯s a medicine aimed at women like myself. I haven¡¯t really filled out at all. I doubt I will, at this point. That is, unless I can do something to change that. I think I have something that will work, but it¡¯s still in early stages. I¡¯ve run as many tests as I can think to test for toxicity and the like, and I feel confident to begin a trial. I am that trial,¡± Crystal explained.


    Quintus¡¯s eyebrows raised as his face took on an impressed expression.


    ¡°You really think this will work?¡± Quintus asked.


    ¡°Well, honestly, no. Not yet,¡± Crystal admitted, ¡°This isn¡¯t the first trial, even. I¡¯ve been trying for some time now. I¡¯ve seen some early, promising results, but as you can tell, it¡¯s still not much.¡±


    ¡°But to do that, she¡¯ll need a space to work in. We recently seized a pharmacy, and I have a great interest in Ms. Crystal¡¯s project. While the product itself isn¡¯t something I¡¯m interested in, the idea of pharmaceuticals that can help others is very appealing. I will be funding her in this venture, though we are supposed to be finalizing that with this talk. Here are those parchments, sign off on them and the deal is finalized.¡±


    ¡°Wait, I¡¯m confused,¡± Quintus said with a shake of his head, ¡°Why does it matter if you can maybe give people this maybe medicine when you can just wave your hand and change ¡®em, Ketta? Everyone in the guardhouse knows that you¡¯re a Miracle who can just up and change people. Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t tell, but why not just do that? This stuff will take, what, years to work? More? You can just do it in a moment and have it done right!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s more complicated than that,¡± Ketta said with reluctance. ¡°And I don¡¯t care about it being a secret, that¡¯s Ori¡¯s hangup, not mine.¡±


    ¡°So, what¡¯s so complicated?¡± He asked.


    Ketta looked around nervously. They leaned closer, and spoke in a hushed tone.


    ¡°I may not care about my own secret, but I don¡¯t want to provoke Ori, okay? You¡¯ll have to promise not to let this slip. Not to anyone, okay?¡±


    The other two took a moment to think about it, and each nodded.


    ¡°We promise.¡± Crystal said.


    Ketta glanced to each side- not that there was anyone else in the vicinity- and lifted their bangs up. Beneath was a large, curved scar that ran from one side of their hairline to the other, then disappeared under their hair again.


    ¡°A scar? Don¡¯t worry, Ketta, you look fine. I won¡¯t tell a soul,¡± Quintus said with a chuckle.


    ¡°Nothing so vapid you fat old man!¡± Ketta said with a hiss. ¡°Most of it is hidden by my hair. It¡¯s the mark I left on myself when I made me, well, me.¡±


    Quintus¡¯s perennial smile dropped and Crystal leaned in closer with interest. Her tail could be heard tapping the sides of the chair as it whipped from side to side.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Ketta, but I¡¯m still not putting it together,¡± Quintus said with a serious expression. ¡°What do you mean, mark?¡±


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Ketta leaned back and crossed their arms.


    ¡°Whenever I do something with my power, I leave a mark. The more power I use, the bigger the mark. I changed my whole body, so the mark is pretty big, covering the crown of my head. Whenever I change someone else, they get a mark too. Usually shows up as a scar, but once or twice it showed up looking like a birthmark. It¡¯s intricate, too. Seems unique every time.¡±


    Crystal and Quintus looked at each other with amazement, then back to Ketta.


    ¡°Can you show us?¡± Crystal asked.


    Ketta sighed and called for a guard, telling them to order a steak. Several minutes later, the guard returned with a freshly seared steak of one of the local livestock, placing it on the table before returning to his post.


    ¡°That¡¯s convenient,¡± Crystal noted.


    ¡°Used to be me, back in the day!¡± Quintus laughed, not bothering to reflect on his current lack of occupation.


    Ketta brought the steak close to themself and focused. The steak was originally a medallion of meat, but as they focused, the steak molded and reshaped itself. The flesh and bone didn¡¯t seem to melt, yet they flowed like syrup as a small pyramid of meat with a bony bottom took shape. It seemed smaller than the original steak, but only because Ketta used the flat slab to make a three-dimensional object. The meat pyramid did steam somewhat, though from existing heat or new heat the process added, they didn¡¯t know.


    Ketta grabbed the meat pyramid that squished in their hand and lifted it to reveal the bone plate that was the bottom of the pyramid. Embossed into the bone was a wildly intricate circle, with many smaller circles within. Line darted throughout, connected the edges of the circle to other shapes and sigils that lay within. The amount of complexity strained the eye, Quintus and Crystal having to lean in to see the mess of shapes in the bone.


    Ketta turned it to get a glance for themself.


    ¡°Oh, this one¡¯s a pretty one,¡± They said, as though this were an everyday event for them. In a way, it was. ¡°Do you want this, Crystal? I don¡¯t really eat meat.¡±


    Crystal''s eyes lit up and eagerly accepted the rare treat.


    ¡°To answer your questions, Quintus, I can¡¯t just go doing this to anyone or this knowledge will get out. Ori doesn¡¯t want that, for some reason. He¡¯s been having me use my power from time to time and having his men study it. I have no idea what he¡¯s expecting to find, but it keeps him happy, which is all I care about.¡±


    Quintus nodded as he listened. He sat there as he processed the information, while Crystal devoured the strangely shaped steak. After a moment, his eyes snapped open.


    ¡°Hold on a minute,¡± he said, ¡°What are the limits?


    His tail flicked behind him, belying a greater sense of stress and concern than his voice gave off. Ketta was taken aback somewhat, stricken by the sudden shift in tone coming from the normally jovial man.


    ¡°I- not really any. It just has to be a physical change to flesh and bone, and I have to understand the idea. That¡¯s it, really,¡± Ketta said, uncertain what the man was getting at.


    ¡°So then, you could just as easily change someone¡¯s hair as snap their neck,¡± Quintus said, his voice flat.


    Crystal had just been finishing the food when Quintus said this and stopped before the last bite. Ketta¡¯s face went pale and wide-eyed with the realization they had said too much.


    ¡°Quintus, I shouldn¡¯t have said-¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been the one doing it. The boys were right,¡± he said with a haunted look in his eyes. ¡°They¡¯d joke that you were the real power but no one could ever prove that, just hunches. Now I know they¡¯re right.¡±


    Quintus brought his gaze to Ketta and spoke his next words carefully, taking care not to sound accusatory, but merely stating a fact.


    ¡°You killed those protesters. Not Orivaughn.¡±


    Ketta¡¯s eyes began to water. Crystal began to say something, but Ketta¡¯s head dropping into her folded arms arrested her for the moment. Ketta sobbed as the other two watched on.


    One of the guards raced up the stairs.


    ¡°Is everything alright, Sir?¡±


    Ketta lifted a hand and waved them away with a sob-filled command to return to their post. The guard signaled understanding and left. After several minutes, they finally spoke, breaking the silence.


    "I can¡¯t even tell anyone,¡± Ketta whimpered.


    Crystal once again opened her mouth to say something, but couldn¡¯t come up with anything. Quintus beat her to it.


    ¡°Taking lives isn¡¯t easy,¡± He said softly, ¡°I get it. Sometimes you have to, but it never feels good. So, when Orivaughn told those protesters to die, he was actually¡­ commanding you?¡±


    Ketta said nothing, only nodding with their head down.


    Former Captain Quintus snaked his hand out, gently grabbing Ketta¡¯s hand and pulling it out. He had a smile on again, not as bright as his typical smile. This was a smile of gentle reassurance, and as Ketta looked up, they smiled back weakly.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t abandon me when your man fired me. That means a lot to me. Your secret¡¯s safe with me,¡± Quintus said.


    Crystal reached out and took Ketta¡¯s other hand.


    ¡°You¡¯re sticking your neck out for me, as well,¡± Crystal said. ¡°I¡¯ve only known you a short time, but you¡¯re also one of the few people who gets me. On top of that, you¡¯re making my dream a reality. You¡¯d best believe I¡¯m not betraying that kind of friend.¡±


    Ketta smiled at the two, their cheeks still soaked with tears, strands of hair sticking to their face. They squeezed the other¡¯s hands.


    ¡°That means a lot to me. And I feel oddly relieved? Not that you won¡¯t tell, though that too, but rather¡­¡± They trailed off.


    ¡°It helps not feeling alone?¡± Crystal offered.


    ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s it,¡± Ketta agreed.


    They all shared a light laugh to ease the tension. Ketta wiped the tears out of their eyes and made themselves a bit more presentable once more.


    ¡°Now,¡± Ketta began, ¡°We should get some of the ¡®official¡¯ things out of the way. I don¡¯t want Ori getting suspicious of my little outings.¡±


    ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï


    Hugh, Elody, and Sam were beginning to settle into a routine in Hearth. They knew they¡¯d all be there for quite some time- about another month, which to a traveling merchant was an eternity to be in one place. Each of them had to figure out how they would make productive use of their time.


    Hugh¡¯s routine was the easiest to settle into; He went to the Gear Barrow early in the morning, and stayed into the afternoon as he stayed for lectures. Occasionally, he would discuss things with Malthus afterwards, making sure he understood what was being taught or expand upon the lecture. The rest of the time, he would go back to the Slippery Jack and spend time with Elody as she relaxed. He would try to keep up reports to Sam about his educational progress, but it became apparent that they would be both better off if Hugh kept it simple and Sam simply took his word for things.


    Elody was finally able to procure some basic necessities for pharmacy. Not only did she get some tools, such as a grinding bowl, measuring equipment, and boiling flasks, but she also managed to source a place where she could purchase some medical plants she was familiar with on one of her short freetime walks. When she informed Sam that she could begin producing a small selection of poultices and ointments, Sam was elated. Elody was less so, though still happier for the new arrangement. As much as she appreciated having something to do that she was comfortable with, the cramped confines of the wagon chafed, and constantly reminded her of the pharmacy she once but no longer had. The bittersweet tang of this development left Elody with a desire for more, and her mind often wandered to the things she wanted to do to Orivaughn Medeah.


    Sam, meanwhile, struggled with little success to occupy his time. By the end of the first week, he had arranged most of the deals he would need to make. He tried to reach out and make connections, but something about it didn¡¯t sit right with him now. Ever since he told Elody about his past, he found that something in his heart had shifted. The other part of him had gotten a foot in the door, and just the slightest trickle was seeping out into him, and it gave him, for the first time since he had set out on the journey of entrepreneurship, doubt. He did made those connections anyways, of course. His was a hard habit to break, but after telling his story in full and in such retrospect, he found himself thinking about it, and what that really meant.


    It was to his relief, then, that Elody announced that she was able to produce a small selection of pharmaceutical goods. That gave him another revenue stream to work with, and he promised to help her stock up on supplies for the upcoming trip, intending on having her work whenever reasonable. When he asked why she couldn¡¯t produce potions nor pills, she told him that one required a consistent heat source that they couldn¡¯t afford to do in the wooden wagon, and the other needed special equipment to shape and compress. Sam shrugged, and trusted her word.


    While Sam didn¡¯t understand what Hugh meant when he explained what he was learning, it was clear that he was advancing at a breakneck pace. Ideas and concepts he talked about having learned one day were things he was exploring heavily and extrapolating on days later. Sam tuned it all out, by and large, as he was unable to grasp the bulk of it. Asking questions would only slow Hugh down, and Sam clearly couldn¡¯t keep up.


    This was the pattern the three kept for several weeks. As the time went by, each of them looked forward to the end of their stay to varying degrees. Hugh was reluctant, but also curious to see more of the world. Sam and Elody, however, were eager to get a move on, Sam to new destinations and Elody one step closer to her goal.


    Sam was quite interested, then, when one day Hugh came back not with words and explanations, but something physical. He held a finger to his lips as he uncovered the item. A slate, like the one he carried to lessons, but instead of chalk covering it, there was an engraving, filled with painted lines of rainbow colors. It was a circle, filled with lines and small, intricate shapes, all interconnected in strange lines and markings.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Sam asked quietly, deciding to respect Hugh''s implicit request for low voices.


    ¡°This,¡± Hugh explained in a hushed tone, ¡°Is a prototype.¡±

 Breakthrough

    Hugh¡¯s time in the Gear Barrow was time that he treasured greatly. It was apparent that many of the concepts that Malthus taught him were concepts that he had  already worked with, even if he hadn¡¯t been taught any codified version. As he blazed through the concepts of arithmetic and algebra, he learned basic mechanics and physics. It only took a little over two weeks until Hugh was more or less caught up with the contemporary understandings of his tutor¡¯s field. Malthus was astounded, and often doubted the alacrity with which his pupil learned, yet with every test, Hugh either showed a great understanding of every concept they had gone through, or showed exactly why he couldn¡¯t succeed using his current knowledge base.


    Hugh simply soaked up everything like a sponge, whether the lesson was mathematical or physical. Sometime in the second week, Hugh started reciprocating his end of the deal, and walked Malthus through the workings of his choker, as best he could. His inability to speak the same language without wearing it strained the process, but they quickly worked out a system where he would explain, remove the items for inspection, then repeat.


    Malthus struggled to understand much of what was happening with the artifacts, or why. Unlike Hugh¡¯s introduction to mathematics and physics, this was truly novel to Malthus. The markings on the choker¡¯s front plate didn¡¯t visibly interact with anything, leading to ever more confusion. Hugh¡¯s attempts at interpretation resulted in the earpiece that he wore, but that was largely a process of trial and error. Malthus suggested a different approach.


    He suggested a method of breaking the meaning down, an attempt to make a complex system more comprehensible by testing each portion on its own, and seeing if any constituent parts can accomplish anything, or were even meaningful. Additionally, they would make their marks with precise measurements, to ensure consistency in the case they succeeded. Hugh had never attempted such a rigorous approach, and the two set in with fervor.


    Going off the two items left them with little point for comparison. The vast majority of the initial attempts of recreating a simple aspect was a resounding failure, leading to a pile of discards. They made these attempts on pieces of slate similar to the writing slates they would use, but much cheaper. In essence, these were cut-rate versions that were typically considered rejected product, and so Malthus was able to purchase a small hill for them to test with.


    Without fear of running out of their testing medium, they were able to approach the problem full-bore. This was fortunate, given their success rate was zero percent for a long time. While the first two weeks were teaching Hugh, the third week was filled with failure after failure to recreate even a portion of the magic Hugh wore. It was at the end of the third week they made a breakthrough- the first individual aspect isolated.


    Their singular success wasn''t earth-shattering. It was merely a slate with the bounding circle drawn, with three smaller circles at equidistant points, curved lines connecting them. This was seemingly similar to many other attempts they had already made, but this one lit up with a flash of blue light, and then¡­ nothing. Despite the lack of noticeable effect, they had something that reacted, and that gave them room to examine why this attempt worked, and the others didn¡¯t.


    They pored over their success, measuring and comparing to similar failures, and comparing it to the sigils upon the choker and earpiece. Together they formulated a hypothesis, with two major points. The first was the bounding circle of the diagram; The circle wasn¡¯t the edge, but rather the base of the diagram. It was the ¡°center¡± of the actual magic, rather than the literal epicenter of the diagram.


    Second, the epicenter of the diagram was ¡®infinite¡¯, in a sense. The lines of their successful attempt curved in such a way that they did not treat it like a flat plane. They imagined it to be like a spike, where it was flat near the edges, but quickly rose up at the center point. None of the lines crossed the center in any example, and this gave them a basis to try other elements.


    The next several attempts were again duds, but this quickly gave way to several successes with these basic guidelines. They took great care to document all attempts from here on out, noting what went right and to what effect, as well as what didn¡¯t work and guesses as to why. They began to paint some of the lines of successful ones, teasing out patterns with the colors that may otherwise have gone unnoticed.


    None of the successes were spectacular. They shone in colored light, and would only sometimes have visible effect. Blue light was the most common, and never seemed to do anything. Most other colors also did nothing, with a few exceptions. One glowed crimson briefly before letting out a momentary, ear-piercing shriek. A rune filled with twelve curved lines flowing just around the center glowed spring green and produced a vicious gale for but a moment before coming to an end. Another produced a slick, slimy sheen with its pale yellow light, and another still glowed orange before crumbling into sand. Hugh thought back to his own explosive attempt on his own, and wondered how similar his had been.


    The next two days were dizzy with frenzied attempts to learn more. Malthus actually canceled his lectures so the two could focus on their experiments. They had no idea how many base sigils there might be, or what any of the seemingly inert attempts did. It became clear that the only way progress would be made after a certain point was either to continue to try to make new bases by making random marks, or find other points of comparison. It didn¡¯t stop them from trying.


    It was the fourth week of their time together, and they finally had figured out the method to combine some of the sigils. While they initially tried to simply layer two images atop one another, all attempts failed. They had tried several iterations of combinations before their only success, a method they were almost ready to give up on. It was a concept Hugh brought up from one of the lectures; The idea of treating these real things as mathematical expression, and that the lines were like graphing formulae. Combining two was more akin to running an operation upon them than laying them on top of each other. They tried several operations, eventually ¡®multiplying¡¯ two sigils together, giving a visually dissimilar end result, but a clearly related effect. It was at this point they both praised the previous concept of marking patterns with colors, as this would have been maddening otherwise.


    They had been crossing one of the inert bases with the gale sigil, and were given an item that blasted wind not when completed, but when a sufficiently loud noise was made nearby. Unlike the other sigils, this one was not one and done affair. They clapped their hands- gust of air. They let out a shout- gust of air. Hugh made a crass sound with his underarms- no gust of air. He moved close to the tablet and repeated, only to be treated to a faceful of wind. He laughed and Malthus cheered at the revelation.


    ¡°About time something worked!¡± Malthus said as Hugh put the tablet gently down. ¡°It¡¯s too bad our time is almost up.¡±


    ¡°Yes, it is getting rather late,¡± Hugh agreed as he wiped tears from his face.


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Malthus gave Hugh a weak smile.


    ¡°It¡¯s almost been a month now, Hugh. Just a few more days,¡± Malthus elaborated.


    Hugh sat up, immediately sober.


    ¡°It¡­ has it really?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Malthus said with a nod, ¡°Not that I¡¯m happy about that one bit. I like you Hugh, quite a lot. Man after my own heart.¡±


    ¡°Then why does this have to be the end?¡± Hugh said, sounding frantic for the first time since Malthus had met him. ¡°I could stay here, work with you. Be your assistant, or-¡±


    Malthus cut him off with a wave of his hand.


    ¡°I wish we could do that, Hugh. I really do.¡±


    Malthus leaned back onto a counter with a deep sigh. His ears and whiskers drooped to match his dour expression.


    ¡°I have responsibilities here. I¡¯m a teacher now, and this institution¡¯s still young. I want to see it grow, and I¡¯ve had to make some deals to make it possible to open this school. I want to encourage young minds, like yours, to help make the world a better place. What we¡¯ve discovered today is amazing, and I know there¡¯s incredible potential in it. Unfortunately, we just about exhausted what we can do with your artifacts there. Next step would be randomly trying different patterns and sigils in minute increments, or just outright guessing. We¡¯ve hit a brick wall, that tablet right there was a lucky guess.¡±


    Hugh began to argue, but Malthus headed him off.


    ¡°It was the hundredth attempt at that, Hugh! You know that damn well. I¡¯m happy about that, I really am. What you need are more examples to look at, a bigger pool of ideas. Hearth¡¯s a but puddle, but you¡¯re going to need an ocean, Hugh. I can¡¯t offer you that, here,¡± Malthus said with a shake of his head.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t have done it without you,¡± Hugh whispered.


    Malthus snorted, then began to laugh.


    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡± Hugh asked.


    ¡°You really believe that, don¡¯t you?¡± Malthus responded.


    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I? You¡¯ve taught me so much.¡±


    ¡°I taught you how to take notes, Hugh!¡± Malthus exclaimed, exasperated. The tablet blew a gust of air, leading to a tension-breaking laugh before he continued.


    ¡°You knew most of the things I taught you, in some capacity or another. You just didn¡¯t know how to take them out of your head and put them onto a slate. Yeah, that helps. Sure, I taught you physics and some of the more advanced mathematics, but it didn¡¯t take much. Then you use me largely as a sounding board and now you credit me for this. Really, this was mostly you, Hugh. You¡¯re smart, ridiculously so. You said you were from a tiny village way south? You¡¯d have been wasted there, Hugh, and you¡¯d be wasted here too.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Hugh asked with a crease of his brow.


    ¡°Gods around us, so smart, yet so dense,¡± Malthus said. ¡°You¡¯d have figured all this out, eventually. I have no doubt about it. I helped you pick up the pace, sure. This is all you, and you¡¯re already outgrowing me. You need more. That lady in your group, Elody? You said she mentioned seeing other sigils. Go with her, find those, and master your craft. Me, I have my craft. I have my students, who I¡¯ve been neglecting for a few days in favor of this. I can¡¯t keep doing that. My future is here, teaching the next generation of minds in Hearth, and your future is there.¡±


    He pointed to the tablet beside Hugh.


    ¡°This is goodbye, then?¡± Hugh asked with a weak voice.


    ¡°Not yet you daft boy! We¡¯ve got a few days yet,¡± Malthus scoffed. ¡°But lectures will have to resume tomorrow, and we need to wrap up our affairs. We¡¯ll spend the next few days consolidating our results into notes and copy them. I would still like a copy of what we¡¯ve found here. Maybe I can teach this to students if you learn more and tell me about how it all fits together.¡±


    Hugh gave a quizzical look in response.


    ¡°Gods around- Letters! Letters Hugh, you aren¡¯t just going to fall off the face of the world and never talk to me again, right?¡± Malthus asked with a growing freneticism.


    ¡°Uh,¡± Hugh said unconvincingly, ¡°No?¡±


    Malthus smacked his forehead with his palm, resulting in yet another blast of air.


    ¡°And just perhaps we should wrap that damn thing up.¡±


    ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Sam asked quietly.


    ¡°This,¡± Hugh explained in a hushed tone, ¡°Is a prototype.¡±


    ¡°A what now?¡± Sam asked again. ¡°Is yer choker on the fritz?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps a demonstration would be better,¡± Hugh said, lifting the tablet up to face Sam.


    Sam eyed the tablet filled with rainbow lines carved into it. He tried to make sense of either the colors or the curves or even the shapes, but to his eyes it all looked like a headache-inducing mess.


    ¡°So, now wha-¡±


    Sam was cut off by a blast of air into his mouth, sending Elody nearby into a fit of laughter. Sam was dazed for just a moment, before wiping his face back into composure just in time for indignation to take over.


    ¡°What the hell do you think yer pulling?¡± Sam asked angrily.


    Hugh grinned, pulling the tablet far enough away to not be triggered again and wrapped it back up.


    ¡°That was something new,¡± Hugh explained, trying to stay calm as he stifled a laugh, and largely failing.


    ¡°So we spend all this time here for you to make some new prank item?¡± Sam demanded.


    ¡°I¡¯d buy it!¡± Elody jeered from the side.


    ¡°Not helping!¡± Sam hollered back.


    ¡°This is the culmination of my time here, yes,¡± Hugh said, ¡°But this is far from the end. This is the beginning for me, and where my teacher wishes to bow out.¡±


    Hugh was prepared to explain and relay the lengthy conversation he and his teacher had less than an hour prior, but Sam simply nodded.


    ¡°So much the better. We¡¯ll be here a few days longer, then we take off for Wella,¡± Sam said, casting a glance at the now covered tablet. ¡°I hope that was worth the time.¡±


    Hugh nodded, and decided against saying more.


    ¡°We¡¯ll take the next few days to prep for our journey. Hugh, I allot you one crate for your materials. Make sure you have what you need from here, because I don¡¯t know when you¡¯ll be back.¡±


    ¡°How come I don¡¯t get an entire crate?¡± Elody asked with mock affront.


    ¡°Cuz you can pick up weeds and turn them into itchy putty or magic hair gel or whatever!¡± Sam shot back.


    Hugh ignored the antics of the other two and instead thought about what was to come. He was both excited and terrified about moving on from here, but he didn¡¯t know how to voice those feelings. The one thing he did know is that it would be a long trip to Wella, and he would miss his friend Malthus. He remembered Malthus''s idea of becoming pen pals. He didn''t like the idea of only writing when he reached a new town, though sending letters back would have to go in batches. Hugh set off from the bickering pair and went off in search for a supplier of parchment.

 Interlude 1

    There is a knock upon my door.  I shall pause my tale for a moment so I may share what is happening here with you, dear reader.


    The knock is merely a formality, of course.  The god of Messages knows that I am aware that he is outside my cottage door as surely as I spill forth the words on this page.  Messages is polite that way, and he likes to keep things in order.  Messages also knows not to wait for verbal assent, and is entering now.


    Messages is a delightful presence amongst the gods.  His stays are typically brief, but his combination of straightforwardness and politeness means that I have never had issues with him.  While he isn¡¯t what most would call handsome, having a body clearly built for running long distances, with his long legs and knobbly knees, but his gray eyes and soft hair are quite easy on the eyes. Everything is as he desires, as physical forms are whatever we gods desire them to be.


    ¡°You¡¯re getting distracted again,¡± He reminds me.


    So delightfully to the point, as always.  While it is important to give context to what I say so that you, dear reader, can better understand the world that I speak of, it is also important to stay on task.  Speaking of which, what brings you here?


    ¡°That¡¯s not fair,¡± He says with a slight smirk, ¡°You already know.¡±


    Humor me.


    ¡°Well, you asked,¡± He concedes. ¡°I have two things for you. I¡¯ve got a message and a question for you.¡±


    A question for me? And from whom?


    ¡°Well, me,¡± Says Messages.


    You aren¡¯t the god of Questions, so how about we start with the message, yes?


    ¡°Works for me. Here¡¯s the message.¡±


    He hands me a screen that lists the message.  The screen is not physical, just a representation of the concept of the message shown.  It is much easier to manifest our missives to one another in such a form.  Typically, such messages between deities is sent directly, a concept that once sent is simply known by the recipient god, and of course, Messages himself.  He knows every message that is sent in any capacity the moment it is sent between two entities.  This does not mean he is cognizant of all of them, much in the same way a mortal can be looking at a messy room and are aware of all of it, yet remember very little of it.  The difference is the gods are much more deliberate, and have a capacity a mortal simply cannot contemplate.  The fact that Messages is taking his time and focus to deliver one to me is in and of itself another message, and this fact is not lost on me.


    His message is marked from the goddesses of Magic and Physics.  Twins, those two.  All of the gods are related, but not in the same way mortals are.  We come from the same reason, not the same genes or heritage.  Some of the gods, like the twins Magic and Physics, choose to lean into the idea of being related to one another, to the point they regard each other as siblings. Others, such as Messages, are aloof and choose not to foster the idea they are close to any other particular deity.


    As I reach out and gently touch the screen- a formality, but one I enjoy- the message rushes into my focus with the sensation of blue and white theming the twins share.


    ¡°We¡¯re concerned about what those mortals are doing,¡± the message begins without preamble. The teenage whine of the two sisters drips from every word in the message. ¡°So it¡¯s been like, a couple hundred million years? We¡¯re super stoked that these newer sentient people can appreciate what we do, but there¡¯s kind of a problem. We made a mistake, and didn¡¯t even realize it until you started talking about it.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.??¡°When we all made the world, you remember how we all worked together to make sure everything fit together nicely right? Well most of us. Not the Doomed ones or whatever, but thats not the point. We all agreed what each of us manages and we all agreed on the Miracle compromise and all that, how it should be impossible for mortals to reverse-engineer our work? And then you start talking about these mortals who are reverse-engineering our work. There¡¯s literally a rule that stops them from messing with those things. So how come some snotty elk boy is touching our stuff?


    ¡°If we find our you messed with the rules of The Story, we¡¯re going to get everyone else together, and kick your ass, alright? We know its like, your thing, but keep your Strife to the mortals, ok? We really hope this is just a weird blip and they¡¯ll die or whatever, but if this gets out of hand, we¡¯re coming for answers, Strife.¡±


    Messages stands awkwardly as I finish reading the missive. He¡¯s always clung very tightly to his ideals that a message should be the business of the sender and recipient, so the fact he brought this to my attention is of significant import.


    ¡°I knew you¡¯d also know about this already,¡± He explains, ¡°So its only a minor compromise. But still, I have to ask: Is this true? Is someone changing the rules?¡±


    I am capable of many things, but the one thing I cannot do is speak untruths, except in certain contexts, such as explaining an untruth. Everything I say is fact by definition by sheer virtue that I am the one who said it.  When I say that no one is changing the rules, I am right, and to disbelieve me is futile. Not only is no one changing the rules, but none of the gods can change the rules.  All of the gods who made the world gave up the power to change the rules when we agreed it was finished, and have worked within those rules since.


    ¡°You could change the rules,¡± He points out.


    He is correct. However, to do so would be anathema to myself, and I shall not.  While I have the power to undo myself, I do not wish to. I am not a god, vying for power amidst the others, all while trying to stay within the rules.


    ¡°Right,¡± Messages says, mollified by my response. ¡°I just needed that from you directly.  Thank you.¡±


    It is understandable, even appreciated.  I watch him awkwardly kick at some dirt at the floor of my cottage as I wait for him.  He did, after all, mention having a question as well?


    He begins to speak, then stops himself, looking uncertain.  He knows I know, and yet feels awkward about the question.  I remind him that he can take the time to be comfortable.  The Story can wait a little longer. He takes a seat on a stool at the edge of the room, and takes a breath. A physically unnecessary gesture, but many of the gods use mortal mannerisms as a means of comfort. Finally, he speaks.


    ¡°What in the world do I do with an IOU?¡±

 What is Trust?

    The day of departure had arrived. After a little over a month in Hearth, Elody, Sam, and Hugh were leaving the perpetually damp and dreary city. They were making final preparations for departure and making chatter. Despite their long stay, the trio hadn¡¯t all talked together at once much since they arrived, making the departure feel like something like a reunion.


    Each of them had their own opinion of what was to come. Hugh had come to like his time in Hearth, and looked depleted and worn down for the first time since entering Hearth. Elody was bored of the city, but was still thankful for what she had learned in the time she was there. Sam couldn¡¯t get out fast enough, and was constantly prodding the other two to hurry up so that he could resume business.


    Despite his urgency, he didn¡¯t have much luck getting many transportation contracts. Most of the raw materials exporters had reliable routes, thanks to the ease of the Sky Ferry, robbing Sam of the bulk of opportunities he thought he had. He was able to find some smaller businesses that asked him to move some goods to Wella, but everything was piecemeal and simple movement of goods, rather than things he could buy and resell at increased rates.


    He was quite surprised then when a familiar figure approached him only hours before they planned to depart. A ratkin lady wearing robes that looked like stitched parchments with her hood up came walking through the gentle rain.


    ¡°Brunna?¡± Sam asked, clearly surprised to see her again.


    Brunna didn¡¯t say anything, but flashing an empty smile. She was still not happy to see Sam.


    ¡°You know Brunna?¡± Elody said while exiting the wagon. ¡°Wait, hold on, she¡¯s here? Oh, hi!¡±


    Brunna turned to Elody and gave her a more genuine smile than she had given to Sam.


    ¡°Hello there,¡± She said, suddenly warm. ¡°I¡¯m here to make business with Mr. Gawin here.¡±


    ¡°Right here you know!¡± Sam said, ¡°And Gawin ain¡¯t my last name. I don¡¯t have a last name! Where did you even hear that?¡±


    ¡°We have heard that your group is travelling to Wella,¡± Brunna said, ignoring the question, ¡°We would like you to carry some materials for us that need to move in that direction.¡±


    ¡°How much?¡± Sam asked, still frustrated.


    Brunna glanced into the cart through the currently open back.


    ¡°We have our own sacks, but they should take up about as much space as¡­¡± She trailed off while she made mental calculations, ¡°No more than three of those crates?¡±


    Elody whistled. That was a lot of mail.


    ¡°Lemme guess,¡± Sam said with a groan, ¡°I¡¯m supposed to do this for free?¡±


    ¡°What? No!¡± Brunna said, offended, ¡°You will be paid standard fare, same as anyone.¡±


    They arranged for the pickup of the last-minute cargo, planning to pass the temple on their way north out of the city. Sam had originally planned to load up on bulk materials and head south via the Sky-Ferry again, but with their light load it made far more sense to simply had out of the city directly to the north. Without heavy goods to weight them down, the hilly terrain simply was more bearable.


    Elody took the chance to ensure she had a few replacements of everything she felt she could work with. She bought extra flasks, tins, and a grinding bowl. Sam reluctantly footed the bill, but after she reminded him how much she could make for sale as they traveled north, Sam capitulated.


    Hugh arranged to meet Malthus at a restaurant, wanting to not only have some time with his friend before departing, but to give his other friends a chance to meet him.


    ¡°It¡¯s quite odd to actually meet you after having heard about you both so much!¡± Malthus chuckled. Being Ratkin, it was higher pitched than most other races and sounded more akin to a giggle.


    They introduced themselves to Malthus, earning a warm smile in return.


    ¡°Elody, you¡¯re the one Hugh said that was found out in the wilderness, right? Surviving all on your own in such a foreign wilderness, so far from civilization, well, it strains believability!¡±


    Elody blushed as she looked away.


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know if he told you, but I almost didn¡¯t make it,¡± Elody admitted.


    ¡°Yet you¡¯re here to tell the tale!¡± Malthus grinned. ¡°He told me that you¡¯re the persistent sort. To have gone through that and survived, you¡¯d have to be!¡±


    ¡°Hugh musta left out the whole revenge murder plan, huh?¡± Sam said, casting a glance at Elody.


    ¡°Revenge murder plan?¡± Malthus asked with concern.


    ¡°It¡¯s a long story,¡± Elody said with embarrassment as she buried her face in her hands.


    Malthus¡¯s ears perked up. ¡°I¡¯ve got enough time. Let¡¯s hear it!¡±


    Elody took a deep breath, and schooled her face.


    ¡°Alright. I used to be a pharmacist in Ade. It''s a city in a desert far north of here, across an ocean. I did all I could to be a good, contributing member of society. A law-abiding citizen and all. Then, for no good reason, the governor¡¯s guards picked me up and tossed me into some magic portal that spat me out in the frozen tundra.¡±


    Her voice went cold as she said this, her next words tinged with venom.


    ¡°Orivaughn Medeah gave that order and ruined my life. I¡¯m going to make sure I ruin his, no matter the cost.¡±


    Malthus blinked, then broke out into a huge grin.


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t that long at all! Not a bad story at all! A bit cliche, perhaps.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I said!¡± Sam laughed.


    ¡°And you,¡± Malthus said, turning to Sam, ¡°You¡¯re the greedy merchant who despite always looking to fatten his pockets, picked up two strangers to help them on their own journeys. Is that right?¡±


    ¡°Aw c''mon, they work for me. It ain''t charity.¡±


    Despite his words, Sam had a seed of doubt that had been lingering in his mind. Over the past week, however, it had germinated, and begun to sprout. He covered any sign of it and kept his facade of a greedy merchant up.


    ¡°Quite an odd choice of people to call friends,¡± Malthus remarked. ¡°But still, Hugh values you two. I can tell by how he talks about both of you. That he talks about you at all, when he doesn¡¯t have to. I can tell he appreciates that you stick with him, regardless of why.¡±


    Malthus leaned forward, his face going serious like Elody¡¯s had not much sooner.


    ¡°He¡¯s going to keep in touch with me, so I¡¯d better not hear either of you taking advantage of him. He¡¯s a sweet boy, and he has great things laid before him. Help him, and he¡¯ll help you.¡±


    Malthus leaned back, an easy smile returning.


    ¡°Also, maybe help him with those letters. He didn¡¯t know how to write until recently, and even now it¡¯s mostly numbers and equations. He¡¯s smart, but a little help can go a long way with that boy.¡±


    ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï


    Getting on the road again felt like a return to normalcy. Despite knowing that there was a long road ahead of them to get to their destination, the continents-away Ade, something about being in that wagon for the three felt familiar, if not entirely comfortable. It was still a wooden wagon, and a bumpy road was something you can only acclimate to so much. This is doubly true passing through a mountain pass, as they did moving north out of Hearth.


    Hugh was quiet for the most part, though this was not unusual for the large Frostwalker. Even so, his demeanor felt downbeat, and the other two silently agreed to leave him be, for the time being. Elody intended to talk to him the next day, but figured he likely needed a little time to himself.


    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    When they stopped for their first break some hours later, Elody was quite surprised when Hugh approached her, getting her attention by way of not-so-subtle enormous hand on her shoulder.


    ¡°Hey, Hugh!¡± Elody said, turning to face him, ¡°How are you holding up?¡±


    ¡°Not well,¡± Hugh admitted. ¡°I have been thinking a lot since departing.¡±


    ¡°I bet! Hey, let''s sit down for a second while the ground isn¡¯t moving beneath us. What¡¯s on your mind?¡±


    Hugh sat down as he collected himself.


    ¡°I have been thinking about friends,¡± He admitted, ¡°Or rather, my lack thereof. No offense to you, Elody. I do count you as a friend, and Sam too, but you are both a decade my senior.¡±


    ¡°Is that a problem?¡±


    Hugh shook his head.


    ¡°Not on its own, no,¡± He said. ¡°I enjoyed my time with Malthus, and he was over fifty years old. That is three decades older than myself, Elody. I realized that I do not have, nor have I ever had, friends my age. Even in the village.¡±


    Elody cocked her head at this, her tail rising up in a curl in an expression any Adstrani would instantly recognize as curiosity.


    ¡°Why is that? Weren¡¯t there others your age in your village?¡±


    ¡°A few, I suppose. I did not get along with any of them.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± Elody prompted.


    ¡°I was usually too busy with Maril to spend time with them.¡±


    ¡°Surely you weren¡¯t always that way. What about before you started apprenticing? Did you have friends then?¡±


    Hugh¡¯s face shifted into an expression that Elody couldn¡¯t quite parse. It wasn¡¯t pain, yet also clearly not pleased.


    ¡°They had different interests than me. They focused on doing. Running, playing, hunting, collecting. I just didn¡¯t care to join them.¡±


    ¡°What did you do instead?¡±


    ¡°I liked looking at things,¡± Hugh said. ¡°I liked to sit down with things and try to figure out how they worked. I spent hours picking apart small plants, hoping I could understand how they grow if I broke it apart. The others made fun of me, saying that I just destroyed everything I put my hands on. It did not make me want to spend time with them.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t seem destructive to me, Hugh. Quite the opposite!¡±


    Hugh snorted a small laugh.


    ¡°Maybe I am not now, but I do not think they were wrong at the time. For many years, anything I picked up, I had an urge to pull apart,¡± Hugh said. ¡°I¡¯ve spent a lot of time learning how to suppress that urge, Elody. Learning how to make myself presentable. That¡¯s proving to be a useful skill, traveling like this.¡±


    Elody put a hand on Hugh¡¯s shoulder. The difference in size between the two made it feel a little strange, but the contact was reassuring to an emotional Hugh.


    ¡°You¡¯re not alone in feeling that way, you know. I¡¯ve had to do a lot the same,¡± Elody said.


    Hugh glanced at her, his face claiming disbelief. Elody laughed at the reaction.


    ¡°Oh, yes! I used to fidget all the time. You remember that plant, skyleaf? Its normally used to make an anesthetic, but it¡¯s also used to make this drug, called float. It¡¯s not that bad normally, until some years back someone figured out how to make a harder version, called brightpowder. Makes you all twitchy and high-energy. I was a kid when that came around so it was on everyone¡¯s minds. I never had anything to do with it, yet everyone was convinced I huffed brightpowder when nobody was looking!¡±


    Elody laughed as she finished her story. The laugh was forced, which did not escape Hugh¡¯s notice.


    ¡°That seems¡­¡± Hugh tried to comfort Elody, but lacked the words in a very literal sense.


    ¡°Alienating? Pushed away from everyone else?¡± Elody offered. ¡°Yeah, it was. Most other kids my age made fun of me. Ironically, that¡¯s actually what got me looking into pharmacy in the first place. Wanted to see what the fuss was about. Then my family fell ill, and¡­¡± Elody trailed off.


    They sat together in awkward silence for a few moments.


    ¡°To be honest, Hugh? Until¡­ all this?¡± She said, waving a hand in a circular gesture, ¡°My only real friend or family was Rudy. And he¡¯s ten years younger than me. He¡¯s somewhere between my little brother, my adoptive son, and my best friend. Gods I miss him. I hope he¡¯s doing alright. Outside of that, though, not really anyone else I¡¯d consider a friend. The feeling of only having someone a vastly different age be your friend is something I can relate to, is what I¡¯m saying.¡±


    Hugh nodded, but said nothing.


    ¡°Do you want friends your age, Hugh?¡± Elody asked.


    ¡°I feel,¡± Hugh said after a moments contemplation, ¡°I feel that I ought to.¡±


    Elody shook her head.


    ¡°That¡¯s not quite what I asked. Do you want friends your age?¡±


    Hugh thought about it while Elody waited patiently. She shifted to stay comfortable as Hugh didn¡¯t respond for over a minute.


    ¡°I am not sure,¡± He said, breaking the silence.


    ¡°Not sure?¡±


    ¡°I feel a kind of pressure. I¡¯m not sure if it is something I want, or if I am feeling what is expected of me.¡±


    ¡°You know,¡± Elody said with a chuckle, ¡°That is incredibly astute.¡±


    ¡°You asked,¡± Hugh responded with confusion.


    ¡°Yeah, but ten years ago, I wouldn¡¯t have been able to be that honest with myself. Not that I didn¡¯t know, but Malthus was right about just how smart you are.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t feel smart,¡± Hugh pouted.


    ¡°Well, yeah!¡± Elody snarked. ¡°Feeling smart¡¯s not like feeling a bit chilly in this mountain air. Especially not for you, its just a part of you. That¡¯s like saying that you¡¯re feeling leggy today, because you have legs.¡±


    ¡°I always have legs,¡± Hugh said.


    ¡°Exactly my point!¡± Elody laughed. ¡°You¡¯re smart, and that¡¯s amazing.¡±


    Alexis, one of the beasts that pulled the cart, began to make a fuss. Elody got up, stretching her limbs.


    ¡°Shoot, she does this when she runs out of food,¡± Elody explained. ¡°I learned more about those two than I ever wanted to. We¡¯ll be taking off soon, then. But Hugh?¡±


    Hugh blinked in response.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about what kinds of people you¡¯re friends with. Worry about who you¡¯re friends with, and why you¡¯re friends with them. If they matter to you, that¡¯s a good starting point,¡± Elody said, before moving to take care of the two packbeasts, Alexis and Karen.


    As Elody finished getting the animals ready for travel again, she thought about what she had told Hugh. She hoped it was helpful, felt it was helpful, and yet couldn¡¯t help but feel a bit hypocritical. She glanced into the wagon, at Sam, who was writing into his ledger as he often did.


    ¡°Why you¡¯re friends with them,¡± She mouthed, repeating her words from earlier. She thought about his own explanation of why he¡¯s out here, and how that story didn¡¯t quite sit well with her. ¡°What kind of person are you really, Samengawin?¡±


    ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï


    As the trio halted to take their first break, Sam took charge of feeding the packbeasts. Elody had almost single-handedly taken care of them during their stay in Hearth, and he respected that she had gone through with it, though not strictly without complaint. He saw the other two take seats on some nearby crags and went back to the wagon, and kicked his feet up.


    It had been a while since they had all been together. There were times during their stay that all three were technically present, but it had been momentary, and fleeting. Compared to when they were traveling, and knew they had nothing but unending hours together, it simply didn¡¯t stack up. Despite all the troubles that came with having two other people in his operation, he was coming to acknowledge that this really was better for him.


    It wasn¡¯t just the fact that he was able to delegate tasks to Elody, or have Hugh haul goods, or even that they both proved to be a source of income in the immediate future. Those were certainly factors, and the ones that he told himself were the most important. As he sat, legs up, he thought about what was most important to him about the two of them, and he couldn¡¯t quite put his finger on it.


    The other two were having quite the conversation. They were trying to keep their voices down, and it didn¡¯t benefit Sam to try and overhear them. He knew firsthand that Elody had a knack for talking people through their own thoughts, and he trusted her to do that.


    Suddenly, Sam bolted upright. He located his journal and pulled it out as quickly as he could without bringing attention to himself. He reached for his pencil, then swore as he realized he misplaced it. Moments later, he found it and settled into writing a new journal entry.


    Thinking about my current situation (I have just departed Hearth), I have been thinking about my companions, Hugh and Elody. It¡¯s been a strange two months with them, and they continue to prove to be strange people to have around. In that time, however, I think I¡¯ve gotten to know them quite well. Better even than people I grew up with, on reflection.


    My reason for writing this is that this is when I caught myself thinking about how I trust them.


    Do I really trust them? Why? I ask myself yet I cannot shake the feeling that I do, in fact trust them, despite the fact I struggle to think about why.


    I will have to think about this more. This feeling is deeply unsettling, and I would like to know why I have this trust, this feeling, before, well, trusting it. Elody is coming to prepare us to get going again. Until next time, journal.


    Sam flipped the page and began to write as though he were planning how to move or pack his wares. He often planned ahead in this manner, so when Elody glanced at Sam- a gesture that was not nearly as subtle as she thought- He remained calm and kept writing. He didn¡¯t bother to look up at her, knowing she would not glean anything from his actions. Elody mouthed something, and he looked up.


    ¡°Got somethin¡¯ to say?¡± Sam asked with exaggerated volume.


    ¡°You ever get some of their hair stuck in your mouth?¡± Elody lied, pointing at Alexis as she smacked her mouth.


    ¡°Oh yeah, lots. Ain''t fun,¡± Sam replied. ¡°Arright, you two ready?¡±


    The other two confirmed and they packed back into the wagon and continued through the foothills away from Hearth. Ahead, the road vanished past the next rise, but reappeared heading into lush, green territory, cross-hatched with rivers and canals. Sam took a deep breath, looking forward to the trip through the River Collective.

 Kettles

    The people of the River Collective were an odd sort. Known as the Riverfolk, they were another large species of rodent, much like the Ratfolk.  However, while the Snif or Rhyth were reminiscent of rats, the Riverfolk were descendants of a creature known as a capybara.  Where the Ratfolk swiftly diverged after their ascension to sentience, the Riverfolk retained most of their ancestor¡¯s appearance and demeanor, only growing larger, more sociable, smarter, and gaining a false thumb that allowed them to grip things better.


    Retaining their avid love of water, the River Collective not composed of distinct towns and cities like most nations or countries, but rather a general sprawl that clung to the myriad waterways. There were still towns, however they were not nearly so central to the existence of the River Collective as they might be for other countries.  Most of the towns were where an enclave of a different culture or nation had established themselves.  This was common, as many people viewed the River Collective as the ideal neutral ground, with the Riverfolk proving able arbiters in international affairs.


    The climate in the River Collective was far enough north that the temperature was milder throughout the year, though they still had four distinct seasons.  The preponderance of water and nearby mountains had a balancing effect on their climate, resulting in pleasantly warm summers, mild winters, and a reliably long growing cycle.


    The waters that flowed down from the mountains to the south and east brought with them a fresh supply of minerals, ensuring that crops grew easily and with little effort.  As a result, both everyone was a farmer, and no one was.  It took extremely little effort to help grow crops in the rivers and canals with the local community, and was viewed as a relaxing activity. Specialization of food production wasn¡¯t something the Riverfolk cared much for as they simply did not have the need.


    There were still many artisans and specialists within the River Collective, as both the Riverfolk and the residents of the guest enclaves found tasks that required skill and education.  Potters, glassblowers, chefs, architects, logisticians, anything that was to be found in another culture was to be found here.  More, in fact, owing to the blending of other cultures via the enclaves, allowing for unique fusions of cultural approaches to technique and mastery that existed nowhere else in the world.


    Despite the laid-back attitude of the River Collective, several of their neighbors found out hundreds of years ago that they were surprisingly fierce warriors, more than capable of repelling any attacks sent their way.  The difference between the Riverfolk and their expansionist opponents was that the Riverfolk did not care for more land.  Any time they required more space, whether for living or otherwise, they had taken it as an opportunity to undertake a grand project, the most recent of which being the digging of the many canals which nearly tripled the coastline that the current generation enjoyed.  Then, as quickly as the pressure was put on them, they collectively sat down in the sun and proceeded to relax for as long as they were able.


    The collective urge to make life as pleasant as possible- and to enjoy those fruits as possible- created a territory that was both dreamlike and disorienting to outsiders.  Travelers such as Elody and Hugh, who never been through these lands before, were constantly entraned by the sheer diversity available.  Despite the continuous sprawl of the River Colletive, the cultural fusion meant everyone had different approaches to the same things.  These fusions were most pronounced closer to enclaves, where things tended to be more tailored to whatever kind of people that lived within.


    ¡°Haven¡¯t we passed five different places selling Kettlebread?¡± Elody remarked as the trio traveled north.  They were following a road that ran parallel to a canal that would lead them towards South Wella.


    ¡°Don¡¯tcha see how different they are?¡± Sam laughed. ¡°That ain¡¯t just any old Kettlebread. That¡¯s Saried style kettlebread. Entirely different.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s so different about it?¡±


    ¡°No spiciness, since Saried¡¯s can¡¯t taste that anyways.  Also, its shape is easier for them to grab than a regular roll,¡± Sam explained. ¡°Now Draconid style kettlebread? I¡¯m usually arright with spice, but they really want you to be breathing fire when you eat those!¡±


    ¡°Seems like there¡¯s a lot of different kinds.¡±


    ¡°Welcome to the River Collective!¡± Sam announced with a grin. ¡°They say you can find anything here, if you look long enough.¡±


    Hugh perked up upon hearing this.


    ¡°Could we look for-¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just a saying, you dolt,¡± Sam admonished, ¡°And besides, we don¡¯t have the time to spend on a maybe.  If you see anything useful, holler.  We already got you that notepad to practice with, we won¡¯t just stop there.¡±


    ¡°Could we please?¡± Hugh pleaded. ¡°I would like to at least look around a little. It would be nice to stretch my legs for a while.¡±


    ¡°I second that,¡± Elody added. ¡°We¡¯ve been riding for, what, six hours now? We haven¡¯t gotten a chance to take a break, much less see the sights.¡±


    ¡°We ain¡¯t here for sightseeing.¡±


    Elody took a calming breath before presenting her case again.


    ¡°Think of it this way,¡± Elody said, ¡°Hugh and I need a break. Why not let him roam around for a little while, with the off-chance he finds something useful. Meanwhile, you and I set up and sell some of the goods I¡¯ve been cooking up?¡±


    Elody could have sworn she saw little coins show up in Sam¡¯s eyes the moment she brought the idea up.


    ¡°Well why didn¡¯t you say so?¡± Sam exclaimed, and directed the cart towards an open space.


    The waterways of the River Collective tended to have a stretch of green space bordering either side, where grasses, ferns, and kettles grew plentifully.  It was a combination public use space as well as recreation and food production, as many of the plants in addition to the kettles were edible.  Groups of Riverfolks lay in the grasses, some with a few people of other varieties. One group had two Sarieds, light-coloured hooded snakes that were known for their melodious voices. Another group had a Ratkin of indeterminate origin, and another group still was composed of nothing but Wellans, large and bipedal cat-like folk.


    The groups got up and repositioned as the cart went off the road and into the green space. Sam had not only seen many other temporary vendors do the same, but had also done so himself on a number of occasions.  The law was lax on the matter, unless you overstayed your welcome.  How long that timeframe was was indeterminate, and was decided by how much you frustrated the locals.  Knowing that they would only be open for a couple hours, Sam was fearless.


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    Hugh was nervous about getting out to explore the local market stalls, but found that the reaction he garnered in Hearth was nowhere to be found here.  While a few people looked at him with mild intrigue, having never seen a Frostwalker before, the River Collective was a melting pot of many creatures of all shapes and sizes.  A few odd looks was the worst he got before he melded into the crowd.


    As Hugh went to explore the market stalls for anything he found useful, Elody and Sam got to work setting up their own stall out of the wagon.  The side of the wagon opened up and the shelf flopped down, stopped by chains.  Elody moved the panel to the doorway as Sam went through the practiced motions of setting up his display.


    The River Collective was a melting pot of many cultures, but the majority of people were still the Riverfolk. About four out of five people were one of the brown, muzzled rodents.  Despite being much larger than their ancestor, the capybara, they still preferred to travel on all fours.  This meant that, despite their size, they were still rather short, and standing up brought them to about four feet tall on average.  Elody brought a stool out to the front of the wagon, so their clientele could see their goods.


    ¡°It¡¯s funny that a wagon run by a Timberfolk man is so tall,¡± Elody remarked.


    Sam rolled his eyes.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,¡± He retorted, ¡°but this wagon wasn¡¯t made for my kind. It was made for Draconids.  It was cheaper, let¡¯s leave it at that.¡±


    Elody chuckled, but said no more.


    It didn¡¯t take long before people came up to the stall and began to peruse what they had.  Sam took charge of handling the majority of customers, but let Elody take over as soon as they expressed interest in Elody¡¯s products. He watched their reactions carefully as Elody talked about the salves and poultices she had made and what they did.  Sam had reasoned that having the person who made the product talk about them would make customers more likely to buy, and wanted to test his hypothesis.


    ¡°This one?¡± Elody said, holding up a blue tin. ¡°This is a salve meant for reducing itchiness. It''s one of two that I have.  I think you¡¯d prefer this other one, as this is meant for scalps- er, it''s meant to get under hairs and stay there for longer comfort.¡±


    ¡°Will it stay if I swim?¡± The Riverfolk lady asked, head barely above the counter as she stood on her hind legs.  Elody didn¡¯t want to say it, but Riverfolk reminded her of prairie dogs when they did that.  As she stood, she scratched behind one of her ears.


    ¡°No, it washes out with water. I don¡¯t imagine it would last should you go swimming.¡±


    Sam wanted to jump in and assuage the customer and finalize the sale, but he refrained and waited to see how Elody handled it.


    ¡°It¡¯s quite effective, though! Are you suffering from itchiness yourself?¡±


    The lady again scratched behind her ear.


    ¡°Yes, it crops up from time to time.¡±


    ¡°Here, go ahead and try some!¡± Elody offered cheerfully as she held out the open tin. ¡°Just take a dab and rub it into your fur.


    Behind the counter, Sam could see Elody¡¯s tail swaying side to side with contentedness.


    The Riverfolk lady took a dab of the cream and rubbed it in.  Moments later, her eyes widened with surprise.


    ¡°It¡¯s- It¡¯s gone!¡±


    Elody smiled and offered the customer the tin, only for the lady to purchase three of the tins.  Sam gave a small clap as he watched her.


    ¡°Not bad, Elody,¡± he congratulated, ¡°Making her forget all about the downside by stressing the benefit.¡±


    ¡°What? No, I was just trying to make sure she got what she needed-¡±


    ¡°Relax, Elody,¡± Sam laughed. ¡°You¡¯re alright at this. I¡¯m going to leave sales of your goods to you, since you seem to have a knack for this.¡±


    Elody was slightly taken aback, but didn¡¯t say anything.  She recognized he was giving her a little bit of trust, and understood how valuable that really was.  Then, she smiled and nodded.


    ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï


    Over the course of the next two hours, Sam and Elody handled a growing number of customers.  Elody noticed that the Riverfolk were always courteous, as opposed to some of the Wellans or the singular Ratkin man that wandered over.  The Riverfolk almost universally wore the same expression, one that looked like they were lost, but didn¡¯t really mind.


    ¡°They kind of have an old-man look, don¡¯t they?¡± Sam said to Elody offhandedly.  ¡°Kind of like they¡¯ve got jowls?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, I think they look more like horse rats.  Heads like horses, bodies just big enough to hold them up.  No tail, though.¡±


    Sam laughed and turned back to another customer to help them.


    After three and a half hours, Elody¡¯s supply of goods was nearly dry.  Sam had done quite well for himself as well, selling quite a few trinkets he¡¯d picked up from Hearth.  He tried to sell small pieces of the fire lichen, but in such a humid environment with easy access to water, no one saw much value in it.


    Hugh came back about this time, ears perked up and some kind of food on a stick in either hand.


    ¡°Try it,¡± Hugh urged the two, without preamble.


    Sam eagerly took the snack and tore right into it.  Elody took a much more cautious bite, slowly chewing the roasted spiced vegetable.


    ¡°What, ah,¡± Elody said, trying to hide her displeasure, ¡°What is this, er, treat?¡±


    ¡°See those?¡± Hugh excitedly pointed to a patch of tall water plants with large green capsules at the end of the stalks. ¡°Those are the kettles we keep hearing about. They are a treat, and I wanted to share them with you two.¡±


    ¡°Well, this is just¡­¡± Elody searched for an appropriate euphemism, and failed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Hugh, I don¡¯t care for this at all.¡±


    Elody was expecting dissapointment, but instead the large Frostwalker¡¯s hand shot out faster than she¡¯d ever seen as he snatched the roast kettle back and tore it apart. Elody blinked in surprise at the act of voracious destruction. Within moments, all that remained was the stick.


    ¡°I was thinking,¡± Hugh said, as though he hadn¡¯t just erased a helping of food from existence in moments, ¡°Why are we going along the road? Can we not sail down to Wella?¡±


    ¡°I guess you didn¡¯t catch it when I was filling Elody in,¡± Sam explained, ¡°But there ain¡¯t any boats to catch here. The only boats around here are for one or two people, not whole wagons. And even then, none are for hire.  Besides, there¡¯s too many bridges for any boats to come upstream.¡±


    ¡°Why are there so many bridges?¡± Elody asked. ¡°I thought the Riverfolk swam about?¡±


    ¡°Well sure, but there¡¯s the enclaves. Also they don¡¯t live in the water, just next to it. Sometimes they wanna get across without getting wet.¡±


    ¡°So, we must travel on foot,¡± Hugh concluded. ¡°That is disappointing.¡±


    ¡°If it makes you feel better,¡± Sam said, ¡°Once we get to South Wella, we¡¯ll be on a boat for quite some time.¡±


    ¡°Plus,¡± Elody added, ¡°If we went on a boat, you wouldn¡¯t be able to get more of those horrible veggies on a stick.¡±


    Elody paused, thinking about her remark.


    ¡°Are you sure we can¡¯t get on a boat?¡±

 Strife

    Hugh, Elody, and Sam continued their journey north through the River Collective, occasionally making small stops to sell goods, and occasionally buy items that Sam felt confident he could resell later.  Elody¡¯s goods were especially popular, but sold out far faster than she could replenish them.  She intended to make a small supply of a couple different products, but Sam urged her to focus on the anti-itch ointment that invariably sold out as fast as she could make.


    As they traveled, the sights slowly shifted around them.  While the canal beside the road was a constant, everything else morphed as they progressed.  The manner of dress, the facilities available, the manner of food and even the architecture shifted as they ventured further into the River Collective.  Where they had entered, bordering Snif lands, the architecture was unadorned, and practical.  By the time they had made their first stop, the architecture was much shorter and had many narrow alleys, given the nearby Saried enclave.  As they traveled, each nearby enclave influenced the Riverfolk construction as much as the Riverfolk influenced theirs.


    One feature they had not yet seen were any Temples.  They had spotted several neighborhood shrines to commonly revered deities such as Trade, Tranquility, and Family, so the sight of a large, imposing temple in the colors of Strife came as a surprise. Decked in vibrant violet and orange, the enormous building clashed with the otherwise largely spring-time colors of the nearby neighborhood.


    ¡°Why the hell is there a Temple to Strife here?¡± Sam asked incredulously.


    ¡°Why would anyone build a Temple to Strife?¡± Elody asked. ¡°He sucks!¡±


    Hugh turned to his companions, a look of ¡®What the hell is wrong with you two¡¯ written across his large, muzzled face.


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t give me that look Hugh, we¡¯re talking about literal Strife here! He stands for horrible things being done just because it gives everyone a hard time! It¡¯s literally in the name!¡±


    Hugh continued to look at Elody, his expression softening somewhat, but not relenting.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of murderers praying to him, you know,¡± Elody continued. ¡°Apparently, he looks on them favorably!¡±


    ¡°Says the aspirational murderer,¡± Hugh sighed.


    ¡°What was that?¡± Elody asked, taken aback by Hugh¡¯s attitude.


    ¡°You don¡¯t actually know much about it, do you?¡± Hugh asked.


    Elody paused, looking around as though she had walked into an ambush.  Nothing came for her, just the slow passing of the neighborhood as they continued to get closer to the Temple.


    ¡°Strife was one of the gods we venerated in my village, you know,¡± Hugh said. He was leaning back and looking up at the roof of the wagon as he spoke. ¡°We venerated a few of the Myriad Gods, you know. Hunting, Craftsmen, Strife, and Celebration were the most important ones.  We prayed to Hunting that our prospected remained good, and also to help with Maril¡¯s deal when that happened. The goddess of Craftsmen was popular because her blessings made our homes better and our tools sharper.  Celebration helped our community stay together, especially during the long nights of winter.¡±


    Hugh stopped talking, but did not shift position, continuing to look at the ceiling. Elody was unsure if she should speak, but he said nothing. She realized he was leaving an opening to ask the obvious.


    ¡°How does Strife fit in?¡± Elody asked.


    ¡°I am glad you asked,¡± Hugh said. ¡°We gave offerings to Strife as a way of placating him. As a way to keep us going. We would offer sparring matches or other contests, as a way of deciding things when argument broke out. By embracing Strife, we avoided his wrath, and we were better for it.¡±


    Hugh now turned to look at Elody.


    ¡°I do not know if that is why the people here revere him.  But do not be so myopic as to assume that everyone simply wants more of whatever a god is named primarily named for.¡±


    ¡°I¨C¡± Elody started, then drew back. ¡°I guess I never thought about that. I¡¯ve only ever cared about the ones immediately relevant to my work, I suppose.¡±


    ¡°Did you?¡± Hugh asked ¡°Or did you like their names?¡±


    Elody didn¡¯t know how to respond to Hugh at this point, and said nothing.


    ¡°Perhaps, Elody, you should try to learn a little more about them,¡± Hugh offered.


    ¡°Don¡¯t we have bigger things to deal with right now?¡± Elody pointed out. ¡°We¡¯re kind of trying to head north and all, plus you¡¯re trying to learn abou-¡±


    ¡°Sam,¡± Hugh interjected, ¡°Could we stop here so Elody may make some inquiries?¡±


    ¡°Now hold on a minute! Why do you think I need this so badly all of a sudden?¡± Elody demanded.


    Here, Hugh looked Elody in the eyes. Or rather, he turned his head so one of his eyes could glare right into hers.


    ¡°Elody, your stated mission is to seek revenge on the man who exiled you. I think this is within the purview of Strife,¡± Hugh explained.


    ¡°Or Revenge! Or Murder!¡± Elody said in exasperation.


    ¡°I do not see any convenient temples to them nearby,¡± Hugh said with a grin. ¡°Strife? I do.¡±


    ¡°Can I get a word in edgewise?¡± Sam groaned. ¡°I¡¯ll pull over if the two of you shut the hell up!¡±


    Hugh¡¯s grin was unrelenting as Elody crossed her arms, exuding melodrama as she pouted.


    ¡°Fine!¡± She huffed, ¡°I¡¯ll go ask! Gods!¡±


    ¡°That would be the point,¡± Hugh smirked.


    ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï


    Once they were parked, Elody walked to the Temple. They had passed it only slightly, and was still less than a minute¡¯s walk from where they stopped. The main level of the temple was situated high on a stone platform kept dark by the windowless walls and gabled roof. Steep stairs carved out of the rock led up to all sides of the temple, despite the fact that there was only a single point of ingress: An enormously tall and heavy looking pair of double doors.  Elody looked at the entrance and groaned.


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    ¡°Of course a temple of Strife would make it tough to even get inside,¡± she muttered.


    Despite her comments, she tackled the stairs without hesitation, though not without complaint.  She swore under her breath as she climbed the narrow steps, barely fitting her foot on any given step. The stone steps were sanded and smoothed, promising a nasty fall should she lose her footing. Continuing to grumble, she made her way to the top of the ten-foot flight of stairs.


    Now past the sadistic incline, she looked up at the doors that seemed to be the only way in.  She pushed on one, but it did not budge. She wondered idly if it was stuck, only to realize the door had a handle, and was meant to be pulled. It would swing all the way to the edge of the steps, so she would either have to duck out of the way as it swung open, or go back down some of the steps and back up again just to enter. Continuing to mutter expletives, she opted for the latter option, not wishing to slip in haste. Moments later, she was inside.


    The interior was dim, with several braziers lit towards the back providing the only light. As the flames flickered, shadows danced around the room.  A single figure stood at the back.  He was clearly one of the riverfolk, given his squat-like standing posture and prominent muzzle.  Like all Riverfolk, his eyes and ears were both small for his head, his eyes especially beady in the flicking light.  Unlike most Riverfolk, he held a spear to his side and was clad in bronze armor that shone in the flickering light. He was facing the entrance, and Elody as a result, though if that was because he heard the sound of the door or if he simply stayed like that, she did not know.


    ¡°Congratulations,¡± said the man, amusement clear in his voice.  His voice was deeper than most Riverfolk, and less breathy.


    ¡°Are you trying to make it hard to get in here?¡± Elody asked as she bent over, trying to catch her breath.


    ¡°As a matter of fact, yes,¡± Said the man. ¡°I am one of the priests here. My name is Ortho Cartwright.¡±


    ¡°Elody Kyne.¡±


    Ortho nodded. As Elody approached him, she stepped into the flickering light of the braziers.


    ¡°Ah, I knew you were an odd visitor by the hour you¡¯ve come at,¡± Ortho said, ¡°But now I see just how unusual this visit is. You are Adstrani, yes?¡±


    Elody blinked.


    ¡°Oh, yes, I am. Sorry, I¡¯m so used to another of my companions getting the weird looks that sometimes I forget I really am as out of place as I feel,¡± Elody said.


    Ortho closed his eyes for a moment, contemplating.


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen other Adstrani over the years,¡± he said, ¡°But yes, you are quite out of place. What brings you here, of all places?¡±


    ¡°I got bullied into it,¡± Elody explained.


    Ortho raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°My friend Hugh told me I should learn more about Strife, so here I am,¡± she elaborated.


    ¡°Strife?¡± The priest asked. ¡°I don¡¯t hear that name often.¡±


    Elody looked around, confused.


    ¡°This is the Temple of Strife, right?¡±


    Ortho shook his head, a sly smile forming on his lips.


    ¡°This is a Temple to him, but we call him something different,¡± he explained. ¡°He who Toils. The Endless Struggle. The Indomitable Spirit. That is whom we worship here.¡±


    Ortho gestured to nearby cushions and took a seat.  Elody did the same.


    ¡°You know, after saying you call him things like ¡®endless struggle¡¯, I¡¯d have thought you¡¯d make us stand the whole time,¡± Elody noted.


    Ortho laughed, a harsher sound than Elody was prepared for.


    ¡°Maybe elsewhere,¡± he admitted, ¡°But not here. Here, we have an understanding with Him, and what He stands for.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°That everything you struggle for should be for a purpose,¡± Ortho explained, sweeping his arm to gesture to the temple. ¡°We reflect that here. You must struggle to get in, to show your own indomitability and perseverance. Some steep stairs and a heavy door is a trifling offering, but an offering nonetheless. I must stand to await anything that may come, guest or trouble.  Now, I aim to help someone who has made her offering and wishes to learn.¡±


    ¡°This doesn¡¯t sound a lot like the God of Strife,¡± Elody said, confused.


    ¡°No?¡± He asked. ¡°What does Strife mean, then?¡±


    ¡°I feel like this is a trick question.¡±


    ¡°Humor me?¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t strife mean¡­ conflict? Interpersonal friction? Antagonism?¡± Elody ventured.


    Ortho made a so-so motion with his free paw.


    ¡°It can,¡± He admitted, ¡°But that is far from the full scope of what he encompasses. Much like how a family is so much more than parent and child, Strife encompasses many things.  Tell me, Elody, what does it mean to be Strife?¡±


    Elody felt that was an odd question.  Were it not being posed by a priest, she would have questioned if it was heretical. She pondered the idea, wondering what it could mean, but came up blank, and shook her head.


    ¡°It means to strive, Elody,¡± he explained. ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    Elody started to see where he was going, but decided it would be best to go along with it.


    ¡°It means to try very hard,¡± she said, ¡°or to put all your effort into something.¡±


    ¡°Very good. What do you strive for, Elody Kyne? What is it that you put your effort into?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m trying to get back home. I¡¯m trying to right the wrong that put me so far from home,¡± she said.


    ¡°Again, good. And then what?¡±


    It was such a simple question, yet it took Elody entirely off guard.


    ¡°What do you mean? That¡¯s my goal.¡±


    ¡°This is the Temple of the Endless Struggle, not the Temple of One-and-Done,¡± Ortho said with a smirk. ¡°Even if you aim to conclude your own life with this task, which I do not recommend, what happens when you achieve your goals? How does that affect your family, the community, the world?  Why does it matter?¡±


    Elody shifted uncomfortably on the cushion, unable to answer.


    ¡°Your friend was right to send you here, Elody.  If you cannot answer these questions, then you needed to hear them.  The teachings of my god are to better the world through action and conflict.  Ask yourself what matters about your goals, and keep doing what matters, even once you have reached them.¡±


    Ortho stood up, a smooth and easy action despite the metal armor he wore.


    ¡°Thank you for visiting our temple, Elody, but I sense you now have what you came for,¡± he said.


    Elody stood and thanked the priest, and left the Temple of the Indomitable Spirit.  Carefully making her way down the treacherous steps, she went back to the wagon.


    ¡°Well?¡± Sam asked. ¡°Get yer ear talked off?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, a bit,¡± she snickered.


    ¡°Did you learn anything relevant?¡± Hugh asked.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t really get any answers,¡± Elody said, ¡°But I did get a lot of good questions. I think these questions are worth more than the answers.¡±

 Filament

    Orivaughn and Ketta laid with one another in a loveseat in one of the many lounges the governor¡¯s palace had to offer. This lounge featured three walls made of smooth sandstone walls, with inlaid panels of embossed scenes depicting the various deeds of the many Medean Miracles throughout their family¡¯s history. Some of the panels were still blank, awaiting the Miracles of the future and the stories they would bring.


    The fourth wall was a single, enormous mirror, seemingly doubling the size of the room. Slightly more, as the mirror was subtly curved inwards, though not enough to noticeably distort one¡¯s own reflection. The mirror was the primary focus of the Room of Reflection. Most of its history had it used as a private office, however Orivaughn had it remodeled into an open lounge rather than a personal office, as he enjoyed ¡°Having guests appreciate our storied histories¡±.


    Orivaughn often brought Ketta here when there were official matters to discuss, but nothing of legal importance. Ketta laid against him as he idly played with their hair. Ketta once found this room wondrous, but now that they¡¯ve examined the engravings time and time again, the charm had worn off to reveal a room that felt open, yet oddly stifling. It did bring them comfort, as being here with Orivaughn meant he would be placid in their slow discussions. Usually.


    ¡°Ketti, I¡¯m already worried about you,¡± Orivaughn whined. ¡°I just want to make sure you¡¯re safe.¡±


    Ketta snuggled into him a little more before trying to respond. He was whining, but they knew he was in a good mood in spite of that. All they had to do was keep this playful, and he would be more likely to listen to outside opinion. They had to play their cards right to get him to fold.


    ¡°I know,¡± Ketta whined back, ¡°It''s so scary out there sometimes. They watch me, you know.¡±


    ¡°Who watches you, darling?¡±


    ¡°People!¡± Ketta said in a voice that leaked just a smidge of concern.


    Orivaughn picked up on this concern, and thought himself clever for noticing, despite Ketta sprinkling it in like a chef adding a potent spice.


    ¡°That''s why I make sure the guard goes with you, darling,¡± Orivaughn placated, ¡°There¡¯s nothing to fear.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Ketta whined in a drawn out reply, ¡°But it''s still so scary when those, those people watch you, you know! I¡¯m trying so hard to do my best for you.¡±


    Ketta was putting on a performance of their relationship several years ago, when they actually did want to bow and do Orivaughn¡¯s every last whim to please him. Now, this was merely their means to an end. Orivaughn still lived in that past, and felt nothing was amiss.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been doing an excellent job for me, darling. Your reports on local factors of instigation were a great help. I will need you to continue going out to conduct more.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s been getting harder, though,¡± Ketta said.


    ¡°Whatever do you mean, darling?¡±


    ¡°Those people, the ones who watch me. They¡¯ve been heading off the guards and I. Sometimes there¡¯s a group of them nearby when we get to the meeting spots. The guards never think anything of it, but I notice, Ori. They¡¯re learning where I go for these meetings.¡±


    This was an outright lie and fabrication. It did not matter.


    ¡°That is a cause for concern,¡± Orivaughn muttered as he thought. ¡°Perhaps it would be best to expand where you go for these meetings. A larger pool of destinations would prevent such a group from predicting where you will be going.¡±


    ¡°What a good idea!¡± Ketta said, perking up. ¡°I¡¯ll ask one of the Captains to pick out some loca-¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Orivaughn cut them off, ¡°I need you to select these places. If the guard isn¡¯t noticing these gatherings, then I cannot trust them to select other meeting locations that are more secure. No, why don¡¯t you pick out, say another dozen sites for these meetings? I¡¯ll go through the list and personally select half that I think are fitting.¡±


    ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï


    ¡°Wait,¡± Crystal said, laughing, ¡°That actually worked? He just up and offered you exactly what you wanted?¡±


    ¡°Yep!¡± Ketta said with pride, ¡°I just had to get him to think it was his idea. Play the damsel in distress, put a problem out with an obvious solution, and he won¡¯t even bother to think it through!¡±


    ¡°Except you¡¯re no damsel,¡± Crystal pointed out.


    ¡°He can¡¯t help but think of me that way,¡± Ketta said, ¡°He tries not to. Emphasis on tries.¡±


    ¡°So, what about the guards? I notice that they¡¯re outside instead of right here. What if I attempt to abduct you or something?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I also convinced Ori that you would never do such a thing, since we set you up here.¡±


    ¡°That is technically true,¡± Crystal mused. ¡°I¡¯m more surprised that he bought it.¡±


    ¡°Again, I made him think that it was his idea. Like bringing an animal to water.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a devil, Ketta.¡±


    Ketta flashed Crystal a wink.


    ¡°So, you¡¯re free to just¡­ drop on by the pharmacy here anytime, then?¡± Crystal asked.


    ¡°So long as I keep putting out those reports, more or less,¡± Ketta confirmed.


    The door chime rang and an older man walked in. He had the same red clay skin as most of the local population and thinning gray hair on his head. While his face was full of wrinkles, the droopy tail behind him seemed to be made of those wrinkles.


    ¡°Speaking of those reports,¡± Crystal muttered.


    ¡°Really?¡± Ketta said in a hushed voice, leaning closer. ¡°Him?¡±


    Crystal nodded.


    ¡°He¡¯s so¡­ old!¡±


    Crystal again nodded. Ketta hesitated before continuing.


    ¡°Could you¡­ introduce us later?¡± Crystal asked quietly.


    Another nod.


    ¡°Well, this has been unexpectedly productive!¡± Ketta said with a smile. ¡°Another day, then!¡±


    With that, Ketta departed, and the two guards stationed outside the door flanking them on either side. The man inside moved to the counter.


    ¡°Good morning, Indro!¡± Crystal greeted with cheer that was noticeably forced.


    The old man, Indro, chuckled.


    ¡°Still working on being the head of this place, huh?¡±


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    ¡°Yeah,¡± Crystal said, rubbing the back of her neck.


    ¡°Was that the girl who sleeps with the damn governor?¡± Indro asked as he jabbed a thumb at the door.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Crystal frowned. ¡°First off, they¡¯re not a girl. Second, my friend. Yeah, they sleep with the governor, but its¡­ more complicated than that.


    Indro raised his hands in surrender.


    ¡°Sorry, sorry, didn¡¯t realize it was like that. If he¡¯s a friend of yours, that''s good enough for me.¡±


    ¡°No, he¡¯s not, they¡¯re,¡± Crystal tried to correct Indro, but got jumbled up. Instead, she pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. ¡°You¡¯re here to set up for the meeting in the back?¡±


    ¡°I may as well, I came here to see why two of the governor¡¯s personal guard were outside. Wanted to make sure you were doing alright.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Well, thank you for checking in, Indro. Though, what would you have done if I was in trouble? Beat up the guards?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯d have a good shot,¡± Indro said as he shifted into a fighting stance and began shadowboxing. Despite his age, he was full of energy and threw punches with far more force than his feeble-looking frame seemed able to support.


    ¡°Wow,¡± Crystal blinked as she took in the sight, ¡°I guess that answers where your kids get their energy.¡±


    ¡°You should see my wife!¡± Indro laughed as he groaned and put a hand to his back. ¡°Comes at a price these days, though. I¡¯ll be needing a new round of my medicine, while I¡¯m here.¡±


    ¡°Sure thing, sir,¡± Crystal acknowledged as she went to the drawer that held his prepared medicine- a small container of greenish powder. ¡°Same as always, twice a day in your tea. Also, when will the rest of the Pothecrians be here? You haven¡¯t kept the same time lately.¡±


    ¡°Oh, just past noon today. We¡¯ve been on edge with certain people about town more lately. Why don¡¯t you sit in? It would be nice to have you around again.¡±


    ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï ¡ï


    Sam, Elody, and Hugh had spent almost two weeks crossing the River Collective. Unlike previous areas, they had not stopped for more than a day at a time for business, instead focusing on covering distance. Sam had had luck buying and selling small items when they stopped for breaks, but was only concerned with breaking even when considering other costs associated with travel. He didn¡¯t quite succeed, but came close enough that he didn¡¯t fret about it, keeping in mind that reaching Wella would be a huge windfall.


    Hugh and Elody spent their time on the long travel attached to their own work. Elody had picked up some local books on plants, and had set to studying the local flora. Since being deposited in a tundra so suddenly, she had a newfound appreciation for learning a broader set of plants and their medicinal effects. The results were not immediate, but she assured Sam that the large pricetag would pay off. More accurately, that she would pay him off.


    Hugh likewise kept to his studies, trying ever more combinations of the base sigils he and Malthus had worked out. True to his mentor¡¯s prediction, he had only a few lucky hits when it came to combinations. The key, at this point, was trial and error, and that took time. Time that, as it now turned out, he had.


    None of the combinations he had struck upon had any large effect, thought the one that belched out a single gout of flame terrified Sam. Hugh noted that things had to be hot and dry for anything to catch, and the temperate humidity of their current locale precluded combustion from a brief flame, but Sam still insisted he get a container to try new combinations in. A pair of smith¡¯s gloves, a framed glass box, and a very embarrassed Hugh later, his basic safety measures were in place.


    As they traveled, they lived not by their own rhythms, but by those of the pack animals that pulled them. They traveled as long as they could until they needed food or rest. When that happened, they stopped until the animals were ready. Sometimes they opened for a while, sometimes they took the opportunity to rest without being jostled about.


    ¡°It¡¯s strange,¡± Elody said while they were moving. She was looking at the maps Sam had bundled together that outlined their planned route.


    ¡°Arright, I¡¯ll bite,¡± Sam said, ¡°What¡¯s strange?¡±


    ¡°We spent so much time in Hearth, in one spot, that moving so great a distance in so little time is a bit jarring.


    We even took a long time to travel to Mego from Hugh¡¯s village because half of it was bushwhacking. Now we¡¯re cruising along and it feels kind of weird,¡± She explained.


    ¡°Hah! If you think this is fast, wait until we board a ship downriver,¡± Sam laughed.


    ¡°I suppose,¡± Elody acknowledged. ¡°I don¡¯t look forward to what comes next, though. The no man¡¯s land.¡±


    ¡°Oh it ain¡¯t that bad. It¡¯s just not within any claimed borders. Look, it¡¯ll be fine,¡± Sam assured her.


    ¡°You said that bugmen are around there,¡± Elody said.


    ¡°Bugmen?¡±


    ¡°The Shifters. You said they look like bugs!¡±


    ¡°No, you dolt, they look like whatever they want! That¡¯s why they¡¯re called Shifters!¡±


    ¡°You even said they look like treebugs!¡±


    "No, I said they look like a cross between trees and insects!"


    ¡°What''s even the difference!¡±


    The transition from the River Collective to the area Elody referred to as a ¡°no man¡¯s land¡± would have been subtle had all signs of habitation simply vanished, as though a line were drawn in the dirt and everyone else could see it. There was still the river flowing north and a road beside it. Now, however, the road was not maintained but simply the dents in the earth from wagons and carts being pulled over it.


    Plants grew in literal wild abandon. Those closer to the invisible line of civilization were still molested by children and foragers, but it only took several hundred meters for the grasses and flowers to reach Elody¡¯s height, only cut down along the road itself.


    ¡°It¡¯s gorgeous here,¡± Elody said with awe, ¡°The abundance of water must make this possible. I wonder how many nutrients flow down the streams to feed all this?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t get too comfortable,¡± Sam warned. ¡°These tall grasses hide potential threats, too. If bandits wanted to jump us, this would be the place to do it.


    ¡°I thought you said it¡¯d be fine!¡± Elody complained.


    ¡°From the Shifters! I dunno when bandits are gonna jump us!¡± Sam shot back.


    Despite their concerns, the trek across the plains was uneventful. Fields of plants signified the height of summer. Some were flowering, inviting all sorts of pollinating creatures. Birds, insects, and even a small, fuzzy, climbing animal that would shove its tiny snout into some of the larger flowers were all around them. Elody would occasionally exclaim that she recognized a few from the books she had purchased, but Sam told her to sit tight.


    After three and a half days of travel, they encountered a horrid stench. It was the smell of death and decay, the smell of bile and excrement. It didn¡¯t take long to find the source; the trio emerged from the calm grassy plains onto a flattened field of plants, upon which sat corpses and puddles of blood.


    ¡°Myriad gods,¡± Elody muttered in horror. ¡°There must be hundreds or even thousands here¡­¡±


    There were two kinds of bodies present. The first were the golden-furred bodies of the Wellans, tall and feline folk. The other was clearly the Shifters, as their bodies took many forms. Some were large, hulking beetles, others were bipedal, with scythe-like arms. Others were gigantic humanoids with elephantine legs and feet. Yet others had mouths deformed into long tubes for purposes unknown.


    ¡°How do they do it?¡± Hugh wondered, seemingly unaffected by the smell.


    ¡°Who cares! Violently, I guess!¡± Sam exclaimed, snapping the reins to move them faster. ¡°We¡¯re getting outta here as fast as we can!¡±


    Hugh tried to argue, but was solidly vetoed by the other two.


    After they had cleared the battlefield, the terrain had shifted from grasslands to woodlands. Once they were a few minutes away from the stench, Sam decided to make camp.


    ¡°Arright, we¡¯re about half a day¡¯s travel from South Wella,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯ll rest up and make good time tomorrow, and catch a boat the next day.¡±


    When the others had gone to sleep, Hugh got up and snuck away. He backtracked to that battlefield, and found some of the bodies. He went around, looking for the bodies of the Shifters, and began to examine them.


    To his surprise, their flesh had a consistency like wood, though where they formed a carapace it felt more like chitin. Whether that was rigor mortis or simply how they felt, he did not know. They didn¡¯t have many joints, only where they would move a lot. He assumed they would simply shift into a better shape when necessary, and joints were a complex structure.


    As he examined them, he noticed patterns in their forms. It was subtle, but when they curved, the curves tended to be the same. He pulled out a long grass and made a makeshift ruler, and found they tended towards the same ratios. He couldn¡¯t take notes- he didn¡¯t want to chance them being discovered, and so simply committed everything to memory.


    He did, however, bring a knife. He took the blade in both hands, and drove it into the carcass. He was unconcerned about ¡°disturbing the dead¡±, seeing as these had all been left out to rot. That, more than anything, revolted him, but again, his curiosity drove him to this act. He pulled his knife down, and peeled open the Shifter.


    The outside cracked open like a nutshell, revealing an interior made of a kind of white filaments. The white strands reminded him of wool as he pushed his hands inside. It was damp, not wet like one would expect of flesh and blood, and gave way to his hands. It was all the same, uniform fluff.


    He rummaged some more. It was slightly different in the head, near where the eyes and ears and nostrils. Thicker cords were present, and he followed them along. He guided his hands along them until he felt something hard and sharp. He winced, pulling a hand out. His finger was sliced, so he took a strip of cloth and wrapped the hand. He reached back in and grasped the object with his wrapped hand and pulled it out.


    He wasn¡¯t able to yank it free of the cords and white filaments, but he did pull it into view. He peered at it in awe.


    ¡°This,¡± Hugh breathed, ¡°changes everything.¡±

 Rumble and Creak

    ¡°Hello!¡± Elody greeted cheerfully as the door to her pharmacy opened.  The sun shone through the door and windows, basking the interior in warm light.  The polished stone countertop beneath her hands was cool, contrasting the warm, dry air of Ade.  She could hear the bustle of Rudy, her apprentice and adoptive family, somewhere nearby.  She couldn¡¯t see him, but the sound was all she needed to know he was tending to his own duties.


    The customer came to the counter and ordered their medicine.  Elody handled it as a matter of routine, and waved to them as they left, leaving her right where she started.  She smiled, feeling the warmth, comfort, and familiarity of her shop.  This was her livelihood, her home. She had spent more time here than anywhere else in the world, and that was exactly how she liked it.


    She heard a strange sound from somewhere.  It was a low thud, followed by a loud groan.  Elody turned around to see if anything strange was afoot.


    ¡°Rudy?¡± She called into the back of her shop. ¡°Rudy, is everything alright?¡±


    As soon as she asked, she felt pressure on her arms, and she was pulled back.  She gripped the sides of the threshold, trying to resist.


    ¡°Rudy? Rudy, where are you!¡± Elody began to plead, panic seeping into her voice.


    The pull intensified, straining Elody¡¯s arms and sending her into a heightened panic. It was too much. and her grip slipped. She was pulled backwards and her shop dissolved around her.


    Her back hit a wall, cold and lumpy. The warm, golden sun of Ade was replaced by thin, weak rays of light that seemed to forego the concept of warmth entirely, leaving her to fend off the freezing cold of the tundra on her own.


    ¡°Rudy!¡± Elody screamed again as she tried to get up. She wriggled, but something kept her down.  She continued to struggle, and willed herself to get up into a run.  Everything she felt now was condensed into a handful of pure emotions: Terror, urgency, panic. She had to get back, she couldn¡¯t let them take Rudy too, he was all she had left.  She ran, and ran, as though she could outrun the tundra and return herself home. Wasn¡¯t that how she got there, after all?


    She ran, the permafrost underfoot stretching endlessly on into the horizon all changing at once as she once again found herself in Ade. The transition didn¡¯t feel odd, it felt justified. She came home. She would do anything, and nothing else mattered.


    She flung open the door to her shop and ran in.  The stench of death hit her nose like a wall crashing down atop her.  She continued to call out for Rudy as she ran to the back once more, feeling that pure terror all the way.  She feared she would be pulled back once more, and braced herself.  She was not braced to see the corpse of her only remaining family lay on the floor, reeking of death and decay.


    Waves of emotions crashed within her as she tried and failed to process what lay in front of her.  One wave, grief, crashed down.  He was gone.  She would never see him again.  Another wave crashed, terror. How could this have happened? Was she going to die too?


    Guilt. This was her fault; she was responsible for both of them, and she was gone. How could she keep them safe if she was gone? How could she help him grow if he was dead?


    Anger. She never wanted to leave, she was taken! Someone wanted to hurt him, and so they had removed her. Or they wanted to hurt her, and took her from her home and killed her family. Both were true in her mind at the same time.


    Fear. What if they did it again? What could she do? She was powerless. She was powerless then, what would stop them from doing so again? They could just hurt her, over and over until there was nothing left. But who was they?


    Rage. No, there was no ¡°They¡±. There was ¡°Him¡±, the One and Only person who could be truly responsible for this.  The hands that pulled her and the dagger that ended Rudy¡¯s life shared the same owner, Orivaughn.  He ruled this town, and it was he who must pay now. Orivaughn Medeah had to die a slow and painful death.


    Elody did not know Orivaughn personally. She had only seen him from a distance when he made one of his rare jaunts into town to make some proclamation or declare some edict. She did not even know his face.  He was a name, and she poured her rage onto the concept of that name.  Orivaughn Medeah. Orivaughn Medeah. Orivaughn killed Rudy. Rudy¡­


    She tried to focus on the rage once more, but it slipped as the waves of guilt, fear, grief, and anger at herself crashed back down.  Her rage hurt the least, and she wanted to hold onto it only for fear of being hurt by the others. All surrounding her had frozen in time as she lost herself to feelings, and now it dropped away, leaving her in a void, the only sensation remaining was the smell of death that came from Rudy¡¯s body.


    ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï


    ¡°Rudy, Rudy, Rudy¡­¡± Elody muttered in her sleep as she tossed and turned in the bedroll.  She thrashed impotently against the soft fabrics as she continued to softly cry Rudy¡¯s name.


    Then, she was awake.  She did not jolt, nor scream, she was simply no longer asleep.  She lay there with her eyes open, the remnants of her nightmare still rattling against her head.  She still felt that fear and grief in her mind, though it was now contextless.  Rudy was not dead, at least as far as she was aware.  She hoped that he was still alive, but she had no way of knowing. Surely he thought she was dead, or possibly imprisoned for life. It was not a new realization, but it did bring her into a sobbing fit as it had so many times since she was dropped into the tundra.


    Her sobs delayed the novel realization that the terrible smell that had convinced her that her only remaining family had perished was still lingering.  It was the same smell they had endured the previous evening as they pushed through a field of rotting corpses, left after some battle they had no stake in.


    She sat up, groggy and unrested, trying to make out where the smell was coming from.  Her first thought was that the wind had shifted and was blowing it from the battlefield. They had not gone so far that that was out of the question. The wind, however, still blew towards the field, much as it had the previous evening.  That would make the source of the smell¡­ Their own wagon?


    Elody rose from her sleeping roll to investigate the horrid stench.  She thought about why such a smell would be possible.  Did someone die behind the wagon?  Did they pick up a piece of a corpse on a wheel, unknowingly?  Where was Hugh, anyways? Did Hugh die? In the wagon, somehow?


    This line of questioning would have seemed silly normally, but in the shadow of her nightmare, anything terrible felt possible. She tiptoed to the wagon and peered around, making sure nothing- or no one- was behind.  ??Nothing lay in wait for her.  She steeled herself with a breath, and looked through the wagon¡¯s rear entrance.


    Inside, she saw Hugh, hunched over some of the boxes around where he conducted his experiments and studies.  ??She never quite understood how writing stuff down over and over advanced his understanding of anything, but he always seemed to know more about his chosen craft than when she had last asked.  She had tried to press him on it when she helped him draft a letter to Malthus, but even when he tried to explain, it didn¡¯t make sense.


    She moved inside quietly.  Hugh never liked to be disturbed when he was studying, and she didn¡¯t want to be a nuisance- is what Elody told herself.  In reality, she was terrified about the confluence of the horrid stench and his presence, and what it implied about his current state.  Her instinct was to approach with caution, and so she did.


    As she got close, the smell became more pervasive and harder to deny.  She could now see Hugh¡¯s shoulders rising and falling with breath, ruling out one of her fears whilst raising more questions in the back of her mind.  She was close enough to see around the two stacked boxes that blocked her sight of his desk- and his face.  His eyes were squinted in focus on what was ahead of him, his pen clutched tightly in his grip as he scrawled his markings into a journal he picked up in the River Collective.


    He must be deep in contemplation, Elody thought, or he would have noticed me by now.


    She tapped his shoulder as she tried to get his attention. Perhaps he could answer the olfactory mystery.


    ¡°Hugh?¡±


    Hugh awoke with a loud snort and a brief bellow as Elody startled him awake. He stumbled upright, knocking over his materials in the cramped confines of the cabin, creating another loud noise with the crash.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Sam burst onto the scene, awoken by the sudden noise.


    ¡°What happened? Is anyone hurt?¡± He demanded, only to grimace and pinch his nose. ¡° Dear gods, what¡¯s that smell?¡±


    ¡°No one¡¯s hurt, I think,¡± Elody said, ¡°But I don¡¯t know about the smell. That¡¯s why I came in here. Hugh?¡±


    ¡°I ah, I do not know,¡± Hugh lied.


    ¡°Y¡¯sure?¡± Sam asked as he looked Hugh up and down. ¡°Sure seems to be comin¡¯ from you.¡±


    Hugh sniffed at himself and winced.


    ¡°It must have gotten into my fur when we passed through the corpse field yesterday,¡± Hugh hypothesized. ¡°Only now that we¡¯ve been away from that for a while does the scent on my fur stand out as much.¡±


    Sam made a sound of uncertainty, but didn¡¯t challenge the supposition.


    ¡°Do us all a favor and head down to the river for a dip,¡± Sam ordered. ¡°I¡¯m not dealing with that smell for the next who-knows-how-long!¡±


    ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï  ¡ï


    An hour later, Hugh was bathed and they were back on the road.  Elody had taken her seat up at the front next to Sam. Elody was visibly tired and still vaguely unnerved by her nightmare. Sam looked over at her, not concerned, but not quite neutrally either.


    ¡°Night terrors again?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Elody confirmed, voice soft.


    ¡°Rudy or Orivaughn?¡±


    Elody looked at Sam askance.


    ¡°What?¡± He asked. ¡°Yer always muttering one of the two names when these terrors hit, so which was it?¡±


    ¡°Both,¡± Elody said. ¡°It was both.¡±


    The conversation lulled for a minute, the rumble and creak of the wagon filling the silence. Sam looked over at Elody, who was hunched over and staring at the floor.


    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t go doing that,¡± Sam said.


    Elody looked up.


    ¡°I¡¯m not doing anything.¡±


    ¡°Bullshit,¡± Sam said. ¡°Yer going through all that sad stuff in yer head again. Over and over. Ain¡¯t good for you. You gotta do something else so yer either moving forward or at least not going in the same circles. That¡¯s how you end up crazy, and I need you Not Crazy.¡±


    The rumble and creak of the wagon wheels once again ruled for a minute as Elody tried to think how to escape. Nothing came to her, just the same dreaded possibility of what await her back in Ade.


    ¡°Hey, what¡¯d I just say?¡± Sam demanded.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Elody said, ¡°I just don¡¯t know what to do.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Sam said with a sigh, ¡°I don¡¯t mean to tell you to put yer nose to the grindstone as a way to just solve yer problem, but I dunno what else to tell you.  Go back there, tell Hugh to come up front for today.  You go finish up what you can before we get to Wella, arright? Try to put some hustle into it so you don''t start thinking about yer issues.¡±


    Elody nodded without enthusiasm, and slowly moved to the back.


    ¡°Hey Hugh, let Elody have the space back there!¡± Sam shouted to the back. ¡°C¡¯mup here so she can hustle.¡±


    Hugh got up, seeing the sadness that was painted across Elody¡¯s face as they passed. He sat in the front next to Sam, his huge bulk filling much of the front cabin.


    ¡°Yet again, I am grateful I do not yet have antlers,¡± Hugh muttered as he felt the tiny clearance between the top of his head and the roof of the cabin.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Sam said, ¡°Never did get that. Why don¡¯t you have ¡®em, anyways? Lotsa yer kin did.¡±


    Hugh shrugged.


    ¡°Not old enough, I suppose. My father grew them late as well.¡±


    ¡°Huh. That simple, huh?¡±


    Sam let the rumble and creak rule again as he listened for Elody¡¯s sounds of work.  Once he heard the shuffle and clink of her materials shifting around as she worked at her craft, he spoke to Hugh in a low voice.


    ¡°Why did you lie to us?¡± Sam asked.


    Hugh was taken aback. He looked at Hugh fearfully, afraid for what this could mean.


    ¡°Don¡¯t gimme that look,¡± Sam hissed,  ¡°I don¡¯t give a Ratkin¡¯s ass about the fact that you lied, but you smelled like you got elbow deep into a cadavers gut, and I need to know why.  What the hell did you do, and why?¡±


    Hugh looked around, as though he could find a solution to his immediate distress in his surroundings, then sighed as he forfeited the foolish fantasy.


    ¡°I,¡± He began, then stopped to measure his explanation. ¡°I went back. To study what we saw.¡±


    Sam looked at Hugh with a steadfast gaze.


    ¡°Whaddya mean, ¡®study¡¯? And back? Back where, the battlefield we went through?¡±


    ¡°I needed to know how the Shifters work.  How they can defy the physiology the rest of us are bound to.  Is it magic, or not? How can-¡±


    Hugh was interrupted as Sam grabbed the tuft of fur in the center of his chest and brought Hugh¡¯s face close to his.  In one hand, he still held the reins while in the other he held Hugh close to his own furious face.  The scene of such a small man handling two things far larger than he with such ease was the picture of control.  Sam was in his element, and exercised it to the fullest. Hugh may have been far larger physically, but in that moment, Sam may as well have dwarfed him like a mountain dwarfs a tree.


    ¡°What. Did. You. Do.¡± Sam demanded through gritted teeth.  He continued to keep his volume low, but the implicit threat behind his voice was clear.


    ¡°I, I, I,¡± Hugh sputtered as he crumpled in the tiny man¡¯s grip, ¡°I, ah, opened one up. I had to see.¡±


    ¡°You desecrated their dead?¡± Sam asked incredulously.


    ¡°They were just sitting there,¡± Hugh rationalized, ¡°Rotting in the sun. It was simple, and I made a miraculou-¡±


    ¡°Did you ever think, in all that wondering and thinking, why, just why, no one had the answers to why they do what they do?¡±


    Hugh shook his head as he shivered in Sam''s grip.


    ¡°It¡¯s because,¡± Sam explained in his low growl, ¡°Most people aren¡¯t stupid enough to cross them.  Now, I dunno what the Wellans did to earn their ire, but I¡¯ve heard stories of what they can do to people.  I¡¯m no cultural expert, but desecrating dead is usually pretty high up on the list of ways to piss a culture off. Did anyone see you?¡±


    The last sentence Sam said came out slowly and carefully, enunciating each word to put heavy emphasis that this was this was the highest priority.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so?¡± Hugh said uncertainly.


    Sam finally relinquished his grasp on Hugh, sitting back down with the reins in both hands once more.


    ¡°Let me be clear,¡± Sam said, ¡°That if anyone comes for us because of this, I¡¯m letting them have you and washing my hands of it.¡±


    The rumble and creak of the wagon¡¯s wheels were the only thing Hugh could process for a moment.  He understood that he had committed a grave mistake, but didn¡¯t know how to explain himself further.  He didn¡¯t need to.


    ¡°So. What¡¯d you get?¡± Sam asked calmly, as though moments ago he hadn¡¯t embodied Tempest himself.


    ¡°From the body,¡± Sam clarified when Hugh expressed confusion. ¡°Look, if I¡¯m gonna be on the hook for what you did, I may as well know what you got out of it. "


    ¡°Does that not put you at further risk?¡± Hugh asked.


    ¡°Well yeah, but so what?¡± Sam asked. ¡°You didn¡¯t seem to care that it¡¯d put me at risk the first time, and the way I see it, I¡¯m already at risk. May as well turn this into a risk versus benefit situation rather than have it be all risk.¡±


    ¡°I do not know that I understand,¡± Hugh admitted, ¡°But you seem sure. I think I found what makes them work. It has to do with what is at their core. I did not keep it, but I do not need it. What was important was the central concept, and I¡¯m confident I can replicate it with time.¡±


    Sam sighed with relief at the knowledge that, at least, Hugh did not keep any physical evidence of his deed. Without physical evidence nor a witness, what was one more mangled body in a battlefield?  He still carried concerns about the bounds of Hugh''s curiosity and where that would lead him, but that was a larger fight than he could tackle right now.


    "Arright, Hugh," Sam sighed, "I know it won''t really stick, but it''ll probably help you get things straight in your head. Tell me, best you can, how they work."

 Friendly Faces

    The sun was low in the sky when Elody, Sam, and Hugh arrived in South Wella.  Predicated along Heart Lake, South Wella clutched tightly to the shoreline of the southern side of the lake.  As they had approached South Wella, the forests had very suddenly vanished several miles away from the city, the small sea of stumps telling the story that logging had left.


    Any question as to where all the lumber went was immediately answered as the buildings came into view.  The local construction was dominated by cut and treated lumber, standing out from their previous stops.  Unlike the industious Hearth, South Wella had no buildings higher than two stories, and very few were that large. Very few buildings were sizable at all, the preference seeming to be connecting smaller buildings when more size was needed than building larger structures.


    The only parts of any structure that wasn¡¯t made of wood was the occasional stone foundation, or more consistently, their chimneys.  Smoke rose from the town like the aftermath of a forest fire, yet the only fires were small and contained in stoves and fireplaces.  Hugh in particular was worried about the potential for fire outbreaks. He had been witness to several out of control fires when he was young, and noted the tightly packed homes left little room for a firebreak should something go awry.


    Approaching the lake was a nose-turning affair.  The smell of fish and rotting algae quickly filled the air as the group approached the docks.  It was late afternoon, going on evening, so all the fishermen had long ago returned and unloaded their catches.  While plenty of businesses for chartering a boat or porter were situated along the lakefront, most were already closed. A few had signs indicating that they were open, but Sam turned his nose up at them.


    Sam informed them that he had a particular service in mind that can get him in touch with his friend.  There was even a chance his ally was in town, but without asking, he couldn¡¯t say.  They found a suitable inn and Sam informed the others he would arrange that in the morning.  It would take some time, and the travel time to the coast by boat would likely be roughly a week.  He encouraged them to go out and spend time doing whatever they liked for the day, since they would be cooped up on a boat for some time.


    ¡°I thought you said it would be a week,¡± Hugh pointed out. ¡°That isn¡¯t so bad.¡±


    ¡°Sure, getting down to the coast,¡± Elody elaborated. ¡°The plan is to get to Ade, which is across the ocean.  Who knows how long that will take!¡±


    ¡°If I can find my buddy? Probably well over a month.  I ain¡¯t sure though. I¡¯ll hafta ask,¡± Sam said.


    ¡°Oh, wow. That¡¯s quite a while,¡± Elody said. ¡°You know, I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ve really said, but, thank you, Sam.  This must be quite the blow to your business.¡±


    Sam¡¯s face slid into a grin that told Elody she hadn¡¯t known something he did.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been skirting on margins for too long.  Besides, yer little side venture¡¯s helped pad those margins considerably.  I really thought you¡¯d have noticed what kinda markup I¡¯d put on yer ointments and such, but so long as none of the customers notice, I¡¯m happy,¡± Sam explained. ¡°Besides, I got the feeling Hugh here¡¯s gonna pay off bigtime in the future.¡±


    Hugh harumphed, but said nothing.


    ¡°Also,¡± Sam continued, his grin growing wider. ¡°I still got a ton of trinkets from Hearth.  That¡¯s been most of our cargo for a while. I bet they¡¯ll sell at a premium up in the desert.¡±


    ¡°Huh. I guess that¡¯s why you¡¯re not telling Hugh to go looking for clues to his big mystery?¡±


    Sam hesitated for a moment.


    ¡°No,¡± He said slowly, ¡°You see, it ain¡¯t worth it right now.  South Wella ain¡¯t exactly a good place for that. If he sees something, fine, chase it. But I¡¯d rather¡¯d have y¡¯all rested for the journey ahead.  Gotta take breaks now and then, y¡¯know?¡±


    Elody thought back to Sam¡¯s telling of his past.


    ¡°Yeah, I suppose that is good employee management, still. Sorry I doubted you,¡± Elody said.


    ¡°Yer fine. I oughta get going, though. Y¡¯all take care, meet back here by sundown.¡±


    With that, Sam took off towards the charter offices, leaving Hugh and Elody alone. The moment he left the room, it felt as though the room had depressurized.  One moment, there was a clear expectation of how they should be acting, and the next they were simply no longer beholden to that idea. Sam departing with little more instruction than ¡°take care¡± left the two feeling somewhat disoriented.


    ¡°That¡­ was weird, right?¡± Hugh asked after the door had closed behind Sam.


    ¡°Oh, absolutely,¡± Elody agreed, nodding her head firmly.


    ¡°Is he feeling alright?¡± Hugh wondered.


    ¡°I mean, I think so?¡± Elody guessed. ¡°He didn¡¯t look unwell, but maybe he caught something yesterday in all that stink. Miasma or something.¡±


    ¡°What if he trusts us?¡±


    ¡°Okay, then it has to be miasma.¡±


    Together, they decided to look around the port town and see what sights it offered to wanderers such as they. It sounded like a nice idea, until the realization that over half the town was engulfed in the perpetual stink of fish guts and rotting algae, and the other half was all residential, owing to aforementioned stink.  Some unfortunate homes were clearly once outside the repulsive radius, but as time crawled forward, so had the smelly circumference of the docks.


    Fortunately, many homes were located atop businesses, and a loose district had formed around these, right at the dread border.  The streets here widened into a long, stretched out plaza with cobblestones, a statue fountain featuring prominently close to the center as one of the largest buildings in the entire town loomed over the plaza. They had not seen another building here over two stories tall, but this behemoth seemed to be twice that.  Despite its size, it had the bold decor choice of blandly colored walls, architecture that was practical over pretty, and lots and lots of signs posted around its perimeter.


    ¡°Huh. Must be government,¡± Elody noted.


    Hugh turned to give her a quizzical look.  They were walking at a leisurely pace through the plaza as they spoke to one another.  There were a lot of Wellans crossing the plaza, forcing them to take a somewhat winding path around as they dodged other pedestrians.


    ¡°I thought you had told me that Ade was run by a man in a big, fancy house? You want to kill him?¡± Hugh asked.


    ¡°What? Yes! But, no. But also yes? It''s not that simple!¡± Elody rambled before taking a breath and starting over. ??¡°Orivaughn is the governor and is responsible, but there¡¯s a whole system behind him. There are courts and magistrates, the constable and his officers, not to mention any of Orivaughn¡¯s aides and heads of industry.¡±


    ¡°So, he does not simply tell everyone what to do?¡± Hugh asked, ears pointed forward. It was a sign of curiosity and interest, which Elody had learned by now was a good thing from Hugh. She knew he was simply trying to clarify what she was saying to help his own understanding.


    ¡°Sort of. He sets the rules and has final say on a lot of things, but he doesn¡¯t just tell us each individually what to do. I mean, you¡¯ve seen how many people can be in a city, Hugh. Ade is at least as populous as Hearth was, if not bigger. It''s not like your village where everyone knows everyone else.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Hugh acknowledged. ¡°I had not put that together.¡±


    ¡°Mhm. There are tons of people who take what the governor says and makes sure that happens,¡± Elody continued. ¡°And where they do that from usually looks like this kind of place.¡±


    Elody waved her hand towards the giant building to emphasize her point.


    ¡°But! I am also guessing,¡± Elody finished with a smile. ¡°As much as I may have picked up from the Pothecarians, I¡¯m only-¡±


    She stopped walking, sniffing at the air as she did so. She had smelled something pungent, but vastly dissimilar to the smell of fish from the docks. It had an earthy smell, but not in the same way soil or clay did. It smelled almost burnt, but a different sort of burnt than she was used to. This was odd, given how many different things she had burnt in her endeavors to create medicine.


    ¡°What is that?¡± She wondered aloud, her tail shifting from side to side as she investigated the scent.


    Hugh made the ¡°I don¡¯t know¡± grunt and made a gesture of helplessness. Elody grabbed his hand and went in search for the source of the burnt smell, eventually exiting the plaza down a side alley and onto another street.  Eventually, they came to a building with an open front, and an awning covering assorted tables and chairs on the seats.


    There were a lot of people seated, all drinking steaming cups of some dark liquid. Seeing a short line that went inside, Elody and Hugh queued, wondering what this drink was.  The line moved quickly, and when they got to the front, they asked for the hot, dark drink.


    ¡°That¡¯s coffee,¡± The barista warmly told them.  ¡°It¡¯s a drink we make from imported beans that we roast.¡±


    The barista was clearly used to giving the explanation, having her speech practiced to a brief science.  She was a large woman with bluish-green skin and a muscular physique.  Neither Elody nor Hugh knew what sort of person she was, but it never occured to either to bother asking.  Behind her was an intimidating sword hung upon the wall, menacing with a wicked edge that was out of place in the warm and relaxed interior of the cafe.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.??¡°I recommend pairing a cup of coffee with one of our Midnight Crescents,¡± The barista continued, gesturing to a display of several fluffy crescent rolls.


    Hugh and Elody agreed, paid for the items, and sat down in a booth in the interior of the cafe.  The drink was unlike anything either had tasted before, with its rich and robust flavor joining its bitter undertones.  Elody quite liked the experience, enjoying the coffee¡¯s warmth and earthy smell, and especially liking how the roll tasted after being dipped.  She made a sound of surprise and appreciation when she discovered that the middle of the roll was filled with chocolate!


    Hugh was less keen on the drink.  He liked the smell, but found the feeling on his tongue after drinking to be unpleasant.  He still drank the entire cup, but mentally made a note to avoid coffee in the future.  The roll, on the other hand, was a different story entirely.  His enormous mouth made short work of it, and devoured the entire treat in two bites, leaving Elody with an expression between surprise and disdain.


    As they drank their cups of coffee, they heard loud mutterings and whisperings from another booth.  Three people tried and failed to discreetly discuss something amongst themselves.  Occasionally one would point, only for another to bat their hand down.  They were so poor at discretion that when one of them stood up and approached their table, Elody was greatly relieved that they could just get it over with.


    ¡°Oh hey dere,¡± a Timberfolk woman greeted. She had a very distinct accent, though very different from the drawl that Sam possessed. ¡°Dose two over dere are too cowardly to ask, so I¡¯ll do it. What are you?¡±


    She pointed directly at Hugh as she asked, without fear or hesitation.  Hugh was shocked, visibly recoiling at the blunt question before regaining his composure.


    ¡°I am what my friend here calls a ¡®Frostwalker¡¯,¡± Hugh explained.


    ¡°Oh huh. Never seen anythin¡¯ like you before,'''' the woman tutted.  She turned around and called out to her group. ¡°He¡¯s friendly! C¡¯mere you two!¡±


    The other two at the booth, a short figure in a cloak who looked to be Ratkin, based on the snout and whiskers that poked out the front, and a tall, slender man with blue scales and folded wings behind him got up from their seats.  Neither Elody nor Hugh knew what the scaly one was, but unlike with the barista, Elody planned on asking, if only because they spent so much effort speculating about her own friend¡¯s origin. The tall one approached with a hand rubbing the back of his scaly neck, embarrassment written all over his face.


    ¡°Hey,¡± He greeted them in a deep, raspy voice. ¡°I¡¯m Darris, I¡¯m the leader of our little group. Sorry about our indiscretion about your friend¡¯s-¡±


    ¡°You were just too ¡®fraid to ask,¡± The woman interjected. ¡°Better to get it out, I say!¡±


    ¡°This here is Leena,¡± Darris continued to rasp. ¡°She¡¯s always like this. The quiet one here is Milo. He doesn¡¯t like to talk when he doesn¡¯t have to, which is fine. Leena here does enough talking for all three of us.¡±


    ¡°Oh real mature,¡± Leena said with a roll of the eyes, ¡°You say dat like you aren¡¯t wordier dan a gods damned thesaurus.¡±


    Leena and Darris continued to bicker as the cloaked Milo stepped forward and extended a paw towards Hugh.


    ¡°Nice to meet you,¡± He said in a quiet voice.  He wasn¡¯t whispering, he seemed to prefer being quiet.


    ¡°My name is Hugh,¡± Hugh introduced as he shook the proffered hand, ¡°And this is my friend Elody.  She is a very long way from home.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± Elody greeted with a wave. ¡°Want to sit down and chat?¡±


    Milo and Leena happily agreed, scooching into the booth, Milo next to Hugh and Leena next to Elody.  Darris politely declined, instead opting to stand a small distance from the table.


    ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t want to spread this throat cold I have. I know its really rare that illness spreads from Draconids to other families, but I don¡¯t want to be the one that does, you know?¡±


    ¡°Draconid? Is that what you are?¡± Elody asked.


    Darris had no eyebrows to raise, only a brow ridge, but still raised one brow in an expression of skepticism.


    ¡°You¡¯ve never heard of us before?¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± Elody said with a shake of her head. ¡°Nor Hugh here. We¡¯re both very far from home. I¡¯m from Ade, in the Pelera Desert on the northern continent, whereas he¡¯s from far south. A tribe in the, oh what was it called?¡±


    ¡°The Snif called it the Antiadore Tundra,¡± Hugh said.


    ¡°You¡¯d think I¡¯d remember since I got dumped there,¡± Elody complained.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of da Pelera before!¡± Leena said. ¡°We were offered a job to go by dere, but Darris decided it wasn¡¯t worth it for one job.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to spend five weeks on a boat to retrieve something for some noble¡¯s vanity project!¡± Darris rasped in protest.


    ¡°Ya but he was ready to give us a buncha coin, eh!¡± Leena countered.


    ¡°Five weeks?¡± Elody asked, trying to veer the two from more bickering. ¡°Sam said it¡¯d be more than a month¡¯s travel, but that¡¯s still disheartening to hear.


    ¡°What? Oh, don¡¯t be silly. Dat¡¯s da round-trip. You¡¯d only need two and a half weeks, maybe even under two with a really good ship,¡± Leena said.


    ¡°Only two weeks,¡± Elody mused. ¡°How would a ship go faster, though? I thought they only went as fast as the wind and current takes them.¡±


    ¡°This is approaching my own specialty,¡± Darris said. ¡°For most ships, you would be correct, but in the past few decades, the Duradians have discovered huge caverns of magically infused crystals. A lot of them are fire crystals, most of the rest are motive crystals. As the name suggests, they impart their magical energy to other things when certain conditions are met, and when they do, they move their target in some way.  Many inventors have been working with these surpluses to make new inventions. One that came out a couple years ago is this banded ring of crystal that takes in air and blows it out the other end in a gale! Some ships have taken to affixing one at their stern to boost their speed.¡±


    Elody wanted to ask him about the Duradians, but Hugh had other interests.


    ¡°You seem to know a lot about magic crystals,¡± Hugh observed, ¡°What is your specialty, Darris?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m a magical researcher!¡± Darris said, taking a deep breath as he prepared for another monologue. Hugh didn¡¯t let him get so far.


    ¡°Magical researcher,¡± Hugh echoed. ¡°Do you know anything about runes? Sigils? Rituals, anything of that nature?¡±


    Without waiting for a response, Hugh took off his choker to show the plate inscribed on the front. Without it, he wouldn¡¯t be able to intelligibly speak, but so long as he kept the earpiece in, he would be able to hear the response. ??He tapped the complex inscription with one of his enormous fingers for emphasis.  Darris picked up the chocker to get a closer look at the plate, but shook his head.


    ¡°Sorry, no. I¡¯ve only heard the rumors that they¡¯re somehow connected to magic, maybe some sort of echo or what have you.  Anyone who looks into it never gets anywhere. Is that a memento?¡±


    Hugh responded by trying to speak, only for a hoarse growl to come out from his mouth rather than speech. Milo next to him jerked in surprise, while the other two had wide-eyed expressions. Hugh clasped the choker around his neck once more.


    ¡°But now that it is back on, you can understand me,¡± Hugh finished.


    The trio looked on at Hugh in wonder while Elody sat back to enjoy the show.


    ¡°Fascinating!¡± Darris rasped. ¡°I wonder if that mark is a result of how it was made?  It isn¡¯t made from crystal, but perhaps when it was made, it was made in a field of pressure exuded from-¡±


    ¡°Here he goes,¡± Milo said, putting his face in his paws.


    ¡°It was none of those things,¡± Hugh said smugly. ¡°It works only because of the sigil.¡±


    ¡°How do you know that?¡± Darris argued. ¡°Only the person or group that made this could know!¡±


    Hugh continued to look smug and said nothing.


    ¡°You made this?!¡± Darris exclaimed, not in disbelief of the idea, but disbelief of his good luck to see such an item and its creator at the same time. ¡°This is revolutionary! You have to tell me more!¡±


    ¡°Put a sock in it, eh?¡± Leena said. ¡°We still gotta go dock. We had time to drink coffee, not find you a new research thesis. You put da job first, rest second. Thank you two for chattin¡¯ with.¡±


    ¡°Wait, where are you going? If you are heading north, then you should come with us,¡± Hugh offered. ¡°Sam went to charter our boat, but if we go now, we could meet up with him and arrange the same transport.¡±


    Darris looked to his teammates who gave him two affirming nods.


    ¡°We are headed north, almost all the way to the coast,¡± Darris confirmed. ¡°We¡¯re headed to Duradera, and traveling with friendly faces would make the trip even better.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Elody said with a snort, ¡°If that¡¯s what you want, we¡¯d have to ditch Sam!¡±