《Galaina - The Search for Ichorium》


 CHAPTER 1 Adrift

    The sky darkened as the land became a blanket of gray, growing ever deeper under the relentless hail of snow from the heavens. A howl, long, low, and mournful, was carried along the leaden raging winds, piercing the soul of the weary traveler, huddled tightly before a dying fire.


    ¡°Wolves.¡±


    ¡°Timber?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    A grim but expectant silence followed.


    ¡°Biron,¡± they supplied,


    ¡°The massive ones?¡±


    ¡°Indeed.¡±


    ¡°The ones that my father told stories of?¡±


    ¡°The very same.¡±


    Arrion nodded in satisfaction, absently fingering the woodwork of his musket. He felt the interruptions of metal beneath his sore fingers, red from the bite of cold, with a hint of purple creeping from the fingertips. The blizzard intensified, forcing him to draw his rather inadequate cloak tighter about himself. He had considered using gunpowder to fuel a bigger fire to abate the brutal temperatures, but ultimately decided against it - he¡¯d need that powder should any danger emerge from the icy wasteland. However, do not misunderstand their surroundings, for they knew they had chosen a dreadful time to navigate these lands. In the summer the hills were bathed in a sweltering heat, which the conifers reveled in as they swayed in the light winds. But the regions west of the Iremark had harsh winters, frost that turned the sprightly mountainous landscape into a freezing hell unfit for conclaver presence, in which the wolves, the creatures of ice, and foul things stirred.


    ¡°We must move. This fire has no chance, and we will freeze if we remain unmoving for much longer,¡± they warned, to which Arrion nodded and shoved his musket down his back straps. He smothered the desperate fire, packed his belongings, and set off through the wall of snow. Hours of struggling through the snow, as high as his waist and packed tight. Arrion tried to ease his exhaustion by admiring how truly surreal the scenery was around them. It was a strange sight: a gray haze lay over everything, with the giant silhouettes of coniferous trees looming in the gloom like giants of the North. The few trees that they could fully see were nearly unrecognizable with the amount of snow draped on them; jagged icicles waved in the strong winds, threatening to impale any unfortunate soul beneath them should they relinquish their grasp. Arrion was a young hixen of twenty, restless, with cobalt eyes, almost black titian hair, and a wiry build uncommon among Exonites. He could not clearly remember what had happened the past week or so, as he had spent it mostly unconscious and in a dazed state when awake. One event he could remember was escaping a filthy slaver¡¯s den on a mountain top, the rotting smell of long dead men in its cave. During the prior week, he had inhaled a light toxin given off by a boulder-sized slug he was ambushed by in the foothills and had not responded well to it. Recalling memories further past, Arrion returned to his own days of early adolescence often when he had nothing to think about, scoffing at them more often than not. He was a boy with big dreams in a breaking world, six hundred miles away hunting game with his father for a living. The young man had realized how short his time was, and how big this world was, too big to sit around as a peasant, no! He set out for glory, imagining his name engraved in the Exonite halls of great explorers! However, he had minimal experience outside the bulwark that was civilization, that was Exyniom. This lack of understanding had been the cause of many mistakes they made, many of which cost lives, lives of men, women, even children, but that is irrelevant to them.


    After an uncountable amount of time, Arrion was able to make out unnaturally straight outlines through the haze.


    ¡°Salvation,¡± he said. When no objection came, he pushed forward, toward the strangely welcoming silhouettes. The sky grew a queer shade of brown as dawn neared, and in good time, for Arrion could now observe dark brown roofs and feel the warmth and conversation emanating from the village as he passed the chipped wooden sign that read Feyld. Soon, he was upon a tall wooden gate that marked the entrance to the hamlet, its snow encrusted beams wrapped in a soft black cloth that smelled like lime. The two men attending the gate wordlessly stepped aside as Arrion slowly made his way past them, exchanging subtle looks of disbelief. Evidently, their home had not received visitors for a very long time. The streets of the village were coated in packed snow about two feet deep, in which walking was a strenuous ordeal. Low wooden houses with stone corner posts were seemingly strewn carelessly around, resulting in a meandering web of snow-choked pathways. As Arrion struggled to find his way through the empty roads, the lack of living presence made his heart pound a touch faster,


    ¡°This town too?¡±


    Exhaling in relief, he saw light, fire, and voices down the street. The incandescence radiated from a two story tiled building down the pale street, to which Arrion began shuffling his way toward. Eventually Arrion stood in front of two rather old looking wooden doors, both of which had brass handles which stood out sharply from the ebony visage, the places which had been grasped by numerous hands smudged and faded. He drew in breath sharply as he felt them return to the front of his consciousness.


    ¡°Well, are you going to enter, or shall we all freeze out here?¡±


    ¡°Haven¡¯t seen people for a long time, forgive me,¡±


    He grabbed the thick handles and pulled. Almost instantly, he was hit with a blast of warm air and a cacophony of voices that almost made him step back. As he slowly walked inside, the smell of sweat and ale intensified. The room looked to him as though it had been soaked in warm honey with its sepiatic light. He could barely pay heedance to the din of voices as he slowly walked over to what he assumed was the bar. The grizzly haired man behind the counter stopped polishing a broken mug and stared at Arrion.


    ¡°Just water, if you please,¡± Arrion said, barely audible. The man raised an eyebrow and leaned in closer, grunting, ¡°Speak up, lad!¡± Arrion removed his gloves and said, ¡°Water,¡± loudly, to which the man turned around wordlessly and rummaged through multiple cupboards for about a minute before drawing out an immensely filthy ceramic bottle.


    ¡°No charge for water,¡± he said gruffly, after slamming it down on the counter.


    ¡°But return the bottle,¡± the barman added. Arrion lazily grasped the neck of the bottle and turned to go.


    ¡°Ey, lad!¡± the man called. Arrion looked back, ¡°Might want to clean yerself up,¡± the man suggested, before going back to his polishing, to which Arrion looked down, and smirked. He was coated with snow from head to toe, and looked like some sort of walking cloud. Snow flaked off him as he made his way toward one of the few empty tables, drawing multiple annoyed looks from those who caught his cold shedding. He collapsed wearily into his seat, brushed some snow off his arm, and guzzled some water down, relishing the coolness as it washed down his dry throat. In front of Arrion was a group of lowland miners, a common sight in remote places like this. He sat for a good while, drinking his water and biding his time, waiting for nothing in particular. Perhaps the loving hands of slumber.


    After about a half hour, Arrion began to drift away from the tavern, into the dark but welcoming recesses of sleep. As Arrion was about to close his eyes, however, the table jerked abruptly - snapping his head back up to observe the newcomer. A hixen with rather short stubble, stocky shoulders, ivory skin, and opaque brown eyes had collapsed into the chair opposite him, the chair which he earlier noticed had a very worn and weak looking fourth leg which he did not want to trust. The man looked as, if not even more, exhausted than Arrion, removing his fur coat and drawing out his own half empty bottle of liquor unknown to Arrion.


    ¡°Hulloooo,¡± the man muttered through the clamor, to which Arrion inclined his head.


    ¡°The name¡¯s Einhold,¡± he said vehemently, extending his hand across the table as much as he could, as he was slumped back into his chair. Arrion leaned forward and took it, and Einhold used this grip to pull himself up from his slumped position.


    ¡°Arrion is mine,¡± Arrion said, leaning back and taking another swig of water. Einhold nodded slowly, staring at the floor with an unfathomable expression. After a long moment of silence, Arrion piped up. ¡°So, Einhold is your name? Never seen that name in the empire; who was your father?¡±


    ¡°Normally, I¡¯m not one for chatting, Arrion,¡± Einhold murmured, almost to himself.


    ¡°Wha---? Wait, why did you even join me, then?¡±


    ¡°This table is the only one with some fraking space, lad!¡± Einhold barked, to which Arrion held up a surrendering hand.


    Arrion waited patiently, staring out the tavern window into the dark gray night.


    Eventually, he heard Einhold¡¯s gruff reply. ¡°He was a colonial,¡±


    ¡°Ah, mother too?¡±


    ¡°No, she was an oceansider - East of Highport.¡±


    ¡°So what are you doing all the way out here?¡±


    Einhold cleared his throat and was silent for a few seconds.


    ¡°Moved here, my mother died a few years after my father.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t give me shit, you and I couldn¡¯t care less.¡±


    ¡°If that¡¯s what you think.¡±


    ¡°It is.¡±


    Arrion fell silent for a few seconds, mulling over his next words.


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°Ehh, she was depressed, I believe---weakened her state of mind. My father, you see, did some years of service in the¡­ Ninth Bronze company. Mountain campaigns in the North, up by Nyxea.¡±If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Oh? I suppose it was hard on him.¡±


    ¡°Indeed, nasty places he went, very nasty. Anyway, he was killed in some skirmish near the borders, and¡­ my mother never got over it, I believe,¡±


    ¡°Why here of all places? Is it not dull?¡±


    ¡°Why, of course, I agree with you, but it¡¯s the only place I can find decent work!¡± Einhold said defiantly. Arrion snorted skeptically, and drank some more water. An idea very abruptly struck him at that moment. Here he was, setting out to search for lost treasures, and badly equipped for such a journey. This hixen that sat before him had no family, was in a state of financial crisis, and was in a regressive state of boredom¡­


    Perhaps Einhold could share in this adventure of his? Certainly Arrion could not possibly be able to do this alone, considering his absolute lack of knowledge in the matter of adventuring. Einhold would be the first member to join this odyssey. ¡°Einhold,¡± Arrion began tentatively, pushing his water jug aside. Einhold grunted to show he was listening.


    ¡°Would you not like to leave this bleak place?¡±


    ¡°I would leave if I frakin¡¯ well could,¡± Einhold replied half desperately.


    ¡°Do you have nothing you care for here?¡±


    ¡°What are you getting at, boy?¡±


    ¡°Why not join me?¡± Arrion offered in a low voice.


    A loud crack made Arrion jump. The weak leg on Einhold¡¯s chair had buckled, sending him crashing to the floor with a loud thump. Einhold staggering up, hurling obscenities at the chair as he dragged a second seat underneath him. ¡°Come with you? Come where, my boy?¡± he finally shot back at Arrion, still fuming about the incident, which had drawn laughter from nearby tavern-goers.


    ¡°I would like you to share in an adventure with me, an expedition into the unknown.¡±


    Einhold¡¯s eyes lit up, but his eyebrows furrowed. ¡°You¡­ want me to take leave of my home here and just disappear into the blue?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I am proposing.¡±


    Einhold looked ready to argue, but Arrion continued,


    ¡°Think about it; you have nothing to live here for other than a shitty job, you have nobody you care about, no money, no flavor in your life, why not?¡±


    Einhold leaned back, an intensely thoughtful expression carved into his features. Finally, he refocused on Arrion.


    ¡°I hardly know you, boy, what makes you think I will just trust you? Perhaps this is a tall tale! Perhaps you intend to rob me of what little I have!¡± Arrion shifted in his seat, his gaze dropping off to the side.


    ¡°If I intended to rob you, I would have already done so. You think anybody in this tavern would care?¡± Arrion said smugly, leaning forward. Before Einhold could reply, Arrion held up his hand, ¡°Listen to me. We can both help each other immensely. I can offer you an adventure, and riches, and you can offer me help in obtaining that fortune,¡± he said vehemently. Einhold ran his fingers through his beard.


    ¡°Pray tell, what exactly is this...odyssey?¡±


    ¡°It is an odyssey to recover something lost, a hidden treasure that now lies in wait for whomever is ambitious enough to set eyes upon it. I tell you, so many explorers, so many thieves, all have tried and failed to locate this prize. But I, no, but WE will, we will succeed,¡±


    ¡°Boy, I am no explorer, I am a damn mason!¡±


    ¡°Einhold, I am no explorer, either, I am a damn hunter!¡±


    Arrion took a breath, ¡°We will be legends; our names will live on in the Empire forever! Einhold and Arrion, the hixen who conquered Augmaria!¡±


    Einhold looked down, a stony expression upon his face.


    ¡°Einhold,¡± Arrion breathed, and Einhold looked up. ¡°I need your help. I can¡¯t do this alone,¡± Arrion said in a low voice again. Einhold remained petulantly silent, his hand massaging his temple. After a while, Arrion slowly placed the water jug onto the floor, shouldered his pack, and walked away toward the tavern door.


    ¡°WAIT!¡± Einhold hollered over the din, startling several people. Arrion turned at the threshold, cold winds blowing into the building. Einhold hoisted himself off the table and strode over to Arrion, grabbing his collar.


    ¡°Go to the town gates and wait there for me, make sure no torches are lit. I will retrieve my...belongings, and we shall make our departure,¡± Einhold said gruffly, letting go.


    Arrion pulled a slight grin, ¡°With pleasure, sir, and please bring a map of this place if you are able,¡± he replied. They both exited the tavern and separated to perform their tasks respectively. Arrion walked at a leisurely pace through the snow, which had now deepened since his absence. He headed back the way he came through the town, once again mesmerized by the gray and snow-caked scenery around him. He saw the gates up ahead, it wasn¡¯t difficult anyway, as they were lit with multiple torches situated in positions that prevented the wind from blowing them out.


    Remembering Einhold¡¯s words, he pulled down the torches and buried them in the snow before replacing them upon their mounts. When the last torch died, the gates and immediate area around Arrion darkened dramatically, shielding him from sight. He could see the lit streets and houses a short distance away, but nobody seemed to be out at this time, and the guards seemed to have retired for the night. Arrion waited. An hour passed with nothing but the howling of the blizzard to keep him company; he pulled his coat tighter about him and sat down onto the snow. The cold was starting to get to him. Abruptly, he shot up. Einhold was hurrying down the street, a traveling bag in one hand and a tuber in the other.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get out of here, quickly, quickly!¡± He loudly whispered.


    ¡°What delayed you?¡± Arrion asked, as he adhered to Einhold¡¯s passing movement. When no reply was offered, he set off at a trot to catch up with his newfound companion. Eventually, the winds began to falter, and the gray ceiling above the land began to brighten and dissipate. The snowflakes began to shrink in size and blinding rays of divine sunlight started to pierce the dark veil. For a long while, the two men struggled through the residual snow, every now and then exchanging glances of unfathomable meaning. Arrion¡¯s mesmerization at the ease with which he persuaded this hixen to accompany him still lingered, and brought forth many questions yearning to be answered.


    ¡°Einhold?¡± Arrion hesitantly queried. For a moment, all he heard in reply was the soft wind, little flakes of snow bouncing and shattering upon his reddened earlobes. Einhold remained facing forward, wrapping his cloak around himself tighter. He appeared to have not heard.


    Arrion opened his mouth to raise his volume before deciding against it, and lowering his head.


    They trekked the rest of the night without speaking, and by morning had succeeded in distancing themselves from the town by several miles. The snow had melted by this point for the most part, leaving only intermittent patches of enduring pack snow. Finally, they stopped atop a large, tree covered hill overlooking the town from afar to rest.


    ¡°I just had to take care of some things before I left,¡± Einhold breathed, shaking the snow from his hood. Arrion took a moment to realize which question Einhold had answered.


    ¡°What sort of things?¡± He said blankly, opening his eyes and staring at Einhold.


    ¡°Boy, you know I can¡¯t just up and disappear from town.¡±


    ¡°So what delayed you?¡±


    ¡°Oh ya know, I had somebody to see, things to collect, and I sold my room too.¡±


    ¡°Who did you go to see?¡±


    ¡°Since when were you so nosy, boy? I had to settle some debts with an old friend.¡±


    ¡°Do you have any other debts you need to settle?¡± Arrion asked incredulously, widening his eyes. Einhold gave him a glowering look, to which Arrion shrugged, ¡°I don¡¯t want a bunch of collectors at our throats during this journey. We can¡¯t afford such petty inconveniences,¡± He said matter-of-factly. Einhold grunted and pulled his tuber out, offering it to Arrion. ¡°There¡¯s as good a weapon as any to deal with those sorts of people,¡± he said with a wry grin, to which Arrion chuckled. A tuber, one of the rare wonders of Mythilia - an exceedingly priceless weapon to get one¡¯s hands on.  He took the gun and flipped the hinged slat open, revealing its powder chamber; it was charred.


    ¡°Did you use this last night?¡± Arrion wondered aloud at this find.


    ¡°No, it¡¯s just old, I shall buy more powder whenever we get the opportunity. It¡¯s blackpowder, easy enough to find a dealer on the lowside*,¡± Einhold replied, shouldering his bag and motioning for Arrion to do the same, ¡°Let¡¯s get going, there¡¯s a path not too far from here where our flour wagons come from, I say we follow it until we can get an idea of where exactly we should be going,¡± Arrion could not help but notice an acrid smell wafting from the barrel of the gun he was holding, before Einhold snatched it back.


    They quickly descended the other side of the large hill toward a narrow gravel path where, most conveniently, three wagons happened to be traveling.


    ¡°Well, they certainly are heading the way we need them to be. Let¡¯s catch a ride, shall we? Hey! HEY! Hello there!¡± Einhold hollered, waving his free arm around, the other was jammed under his pack as he was struggling to shift it to a better position. Arrion stared at the two largest containers, both marked with the Nyxean free trade insignias. The hixen drivers halted their steeds, and two dismounted, striding over to Arrion and Einhold.


    ¡°How goes it, gentlemen?¡± One of them droned sleepily. Einhold straightened up, ¡°Fine, fine, it¡¯s a beautiful day for a journey ain¡¯t it my friends? I say, you have fine hair sir! What do y---¡± Arrion cut in, ¡°We¡¯d be grateful if you could perhaps let us ride for a short bit? Just so we can gain some ground, we have somewhere to be, and must make good time,¡± He said with a vague tone of beseechment. The men didn¡¯t even consider, they waved their hands for Arrion and Einhold to follow them.


    ¡°Just hop on the back cart. Ye can¡¯t sit atop ¡®cuz we¡¯ve got some delicate goods in there,¡± one of the men said relishingly as he mounted his horse. They trundled their way for a little over five hours through lightly forested hills that seemed to stretch on endlessly. Eventually, Einhold scooted over to where Arrion sat, dangling his legs off the cart.


    ¡°So--,¡± he said in a low voice. ¡°Where to, boy?¡±


    Arrion dragged himself out of his thoughts to Einhold¡¯s question, ¡°Sorry?¡±


    ¡°Where are we going?¡± Einhold repeated impatiently, making a sweeping hand gesture.


    ¡°Not entirely sure, West is as far as I planned.¡±


    ¡°Oh, well, do you have a map?¡± Einhold asked nonchalantly, holding out his hand.


    ¡°It¡¯s soaked, snow got in - you?¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡±


    Arrion watched as Einhold rummaged around his back pockets, eventually yanking out a soggy rolled up paper. Arrion looked over the illustration as Einhold unfurled it, a general reference map, which he was somewhat thankful for - as it displayed much of the infrastructural information of the surrounding area. He surveyed the Enclave¡¯s province of Liconia, searching for the nearest city where they could get their bearings on the primary goal of the quest. Einhold¡¯s callused finger soon landed upon a small city quite close to where they were, named Gerendal. ¡°Here, this Grey city seems to be nearby. Gerendal. Looks like it¡¯s only around a hundred miles away, from what I can tell,¡± he said optimistically while glancing at Arrion, who raised his eyebrows and nodded.


    ¡°Gerendal, eh?¡± One of the men up front wondered dubiously. Both Arrion and Einhold glanced around the large crates.


    ¡°Indeed, and what of it?¡± Einhold said dourly.


    ¡°Ye both will ¡®ave a fine ol time in Gerendal. ¡®s one of the last decent cities left near the frontier. At least fer now,¡± the man said over his shoulder, his smile slowly fading.


    ¡°Excellent. We head there first thing tomorrow,¡± Einhold approved.


    ¡°Damn, I can¡¯t believe this is really happening,¡± he mused, staring at the gravel path with a grin of sincere pleasure. Arrion merely gave him a pat on the shoulder, before leaning backward to take a much needed nap. They had a long couple weeks ahead of them. It was the late evening when the pair took their leave after thanking the drivers, and darkness had started to settle into the rolling hills surrounding them. They walked a short stretch before settling down beneath a thickly canopied tree, so as to make quite sure they would retain their dryness should it rain or snow during the night. Arrion could observe dim lanterns far ahead, illuminating the widening gravel road.


    ¡°Well, I suppose tonight we¡¯ll have to freeze. I lost my previous encamping gear a long time ago,¡± Arrion said, annoyed at his ill preparedness.


    ¡°We can buy more at Gerendal,¡± Einhold said dismissively, and rolled over to face away from the shine of the moon. Arrion drew his arms into his coat and breathed to warm his stiff fingers. Although the snow had let up, it was still very chilly. After a time, Arrion got bored of examining the stars, and lay back against the tree. He quickly fell asleep, despite the biting cold, and slipped into yearnful dreams of fame and fortune.

 CHAPTER 2 Gerendal

    Arrion awoke to Einhold¡¯s hand jostling his arm.


    ¡°Get yerself up boy, somebody¡¯s coming!¡± Einhold muttered urgently.


    Arrion shook himself awake and shot up, swinging his musket from his back. Then. Arrion heard them; voices drifted through the woods toward their resting place, getting louder by the second.


    ¡°Why can¡¯t we just say hello?¡± Arrion whispered, confused as to why they were hiding from what sounded like a group of teenagers.


    ¡°Those are the Arel boys. I¡­ had a sort of run in with their father yesterday night, when we, uhh...left,¡± Einhold said in a voice of forced calm. Arrion smacked his hand to his forehead, so hard that Einhold winced. ¡°No enemies, huh?¡± he said desperately, loading his musket.


    ¡°Well, apparently not! Sorry my boy, but I thought nobody would notice the bastard was dead until we were long gone!¡± Einhold explained, the voices drew even nearer, so near that Arrion could make out their conversation: ¡°---orry Rovern, we¡¯ll find him, and he¡¯ll pay for this disgrace.¡±


    ¡°The damn mason¡¯s a coward! Shooting our dear father in his own home, and bolting like a frightened rabbit!¡±


    Arrion counted three hixen men at the most, and they seemed to be heading right past the tree which shielded him and Einhold from sight.


    ¡°I¡¯ll chance a peek,¡± Einhold whispered. He slowly leaned forward, his head turned to observe the foes.


    ¡°Three of them, all armed with pokers, ha! The fools, and they knew I had a tuber!¡± He said. Arrion nodded to him, and they both stepped out from behind the tree to face the trio, guns aimed.


    ¡°Drop your twigs, gentlemen!¡± Einhold said loudly, cocking the striker of his tuber. The men turned around and froze, but did not lower their pokers.


    One of the men stepped forward, ¡°You! You fraking rat! You¡¯re paying the debt NOW!¡± He said, angry tears pouring down his ruddy face.


    ¡°Your father was no better, boy. He sought to deprive me of what little I already had, and I would have no more of it,¡± Einhold said gravely, tightening his grip on his pistol.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t warrant murder, you bastard!¡± The hixen boy said, taking a step forward. Einhold aimed his tuber at the young man¡¯s head. With a roar, the man charged at Einhold, iron poker held aloft. The tube gun spewed a cone of fiery smoke that enveloped the young man, clearing only to reveal the youth¡¯s neck torn open. The man in the middle took a ferocious swipe at Arrion, which he avoided. Arrion backpedaled frantically and let loose a shot straight into the attackers chest. The third man backed up, dropping his weapon and withdrawing a small crossbow from his waist, drawing it back as he raised it. Arrion quickly grabbed the barrel of his gun, wielding it like a club, and blindly lunged toward the young man. The adversary took a panicked shot from his hip, which narrowly missed Arrion, who struck the man across his temple, splitting his head open and releasing a spatter of blood that stained the frosted grass a deep red. Arrion and Einhold both stood panting amidst the three bloodstained bodies.


    ¡°That¡¯s three of ¡®em. There¡¯s a fourth brother of theirs, too, but I don¡¯t know where he is,¡± Einhold gasped. ¡°Let¡¯s haul it, we¡¯ve no doubt drawn attention - all this frakin¡¯ shooting,¡± Arrion said between breaths. Einhold murmured assent and shoved his tuber behind him into his pack. They dragged the bodies into a ditch left by a fallen tree and made a quick departure. For half the week, they made their way quickly through the grassy open hills that dominated the land for hundreds of miles.


    ¡°Only a few leagues left. Come now, boy,¡± Einhold urged, a bead of sweat making its way down his nose. Arrion, who had also been uncomfortably perspiring for the last few hours, readjusted his backpack and wiped his brow, nodding.


    ¡°Einhold, can I ask you something?¡± Arrion asked as he jogged up to Einhold.


    ¡°Hmm?¡±


    ¡°Well, why did you agree to come with me so easily?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean, boy?¡±


    ¡°I expected it would be days before I convinced you to accompany me. Instead, after only about an hour after meeting me, you gave in,¡±


    ¡°Boy, have you ever been as bored as I have with your life?¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t say, I hardly know you.¡±


    ¡°Well, it consumes you, whenever you just stand back for a moment and look over what you¡¯ve done so far¡­¡± Einhold trailed off.


    ¡°What?¡± Arrion pushed.


    ¡°It¡¯s rather disappointing in my case, because I haven¡¯t the head to commit to anything meaningful, I suppose. You know I¡¯m thirty and two, and I have done nothing but idle about.¡±


    Before Arrion could reply, Einhold held up his hand, ¡°Enough. You have offered what I¡¯ve needed for a long time, and I¡¯m taking the chance,¡± he said dismissively, to which Arrion nodded and fell silent. They continued on, and soon glimpsed the stone hightowers and domes of Gerendal which proudly surveyed the barren grassland to which they seemed to lay claim to. The city was eventually upon Arrion and Einhold, though they had to make their way through numerous expanses of farmland and small villages which surrounded the main city like moons around a planet.


    ¡°No walls means no insecurities. With any luck, this should be a splendidly benevolent community!¡± Einhold proclaimed, throwing an arm around Arrion.


    They gradually entered the city by virtue of simply walking down the nearest gravel pathway; however, there was really no definite border or boundary which determined the city. It was not unlike the illusion of the sun, where when observed - you could not tell where the actual sun itself was in the intense glow that radiated from it. The urban sprawl graduated toward a center which was seemingly undefinable.


    The farms and storehouses slowly turned into large apartments and winding market places, the likes of which Arrion had never seen before. Narrow streets with dozens of drapes and banners of white and silver, lined with three story apartment complexes as well as public service buildings spanned across the city like hundreds of thick veins. Arrion detected a very faint scent in the air that seemed to be very citric, not unlike a freshly peeled orange.


    ¡°First thing¡¯s first, we must buy supplies and better clothing!¡± Arrion shouted above the bustling mass of people and voices. The pair pushed their way through the increasingly densifying crowd of the market until they reached a lit alley where they could receive some respite from the commotion.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s first get something to eat, I¡¯m frakin¡¯ dying,¡± Einhold complained as he kicked an empty crate aside.


    ¡°Let us walk,¡± Arrion replied. They exited the alley onto the opposing street, which, fortunately, was significantly less packed and offered a more pleasant atmosphere compared to the sea of citizens they had endured earlier. Arrion grew almost nauseous with the sheer vividity of the colors which draped the streets before them, but Einhold was busy turning left and right in his search for a place to dine.


    ¡°Behind you,¡± Arrion heard them say with hints of exasperation, he twisted around to see a very quaint bakery nestled between two large tenements which cast their looming shadows over a large section of the street. Einhold caught Arrion¡¯s movement in his peripherals and turned accordingly.


    ¡°Ah, how about there, the Sorian,¡± He read, putting a hand on Arrion¡¯s shoulder. They turned around and headed back down the street toward the bakery, which quickened their pace with every step as it emanated a very enticing smell of freshly baked citta. Once inside, Arrion went to ask where the lavatory was, which was rather difficult considering the majority of the building was strangely vacant of customers. Einhold stood at an empty counter, waiting for somebody to attend to his requests, meanwhile, Arrion managed to brush off the feeling that they were being watched.


    ¡°Anybody at hand?¡± Einhold queried loudly, slamming a hand upon the counter with a loud SLAP. ¡°Oh dear, yes-yes, I am on my way sir!¡± a woman called out from a back room, which Arrion presumed was the baking chamber. He walked over to Einhold¡¯s side as a short, dark haired grey lady approached the counter.


    ¡°I¡¯d be most grateful if you could bring us a loaf and some wine,¡± Einhold said in a softer tone, to which the woman replied, ¡°Nyxean or Herasian wine?¡±


    ¡°Herasian. We¡¯re not looking to get floored,¡± Einhold affirmed, turning away and gazing out into the street.


    ¡°Somebody else is here,¡± Arrion heard them say. ¡°I know, I felt it too,¡± He muttered, low enough so that Einhold wouldn¡¯t hear. He scanned the bakery interior, filled with chairs, stone platforms, and shelves laden with various pastries, but found no other person within the room. The lady returned with a bottle of wine and a paper wrapped loaf of crisp *citta, the aroma of which drew Arrion¡¯s attention back to the counter.


    ¡°What kind of money do you accept?¡± Einhold grunted, rummaging around in his pockets and unslung pack.


    ¡°Anything, really,¡± The woman said over the sounds of Einhold¡¯s struggles. He withdrew a number of different coins from a section of his pack, some of which Arrion recognized, others of which he had never seen before. The woman took three of the same types of coin with a faded imperial insignia on it and disappeared into the back room. As Einhold turned for the door, food in hand, a figure detached itself from one of the shadowy corners near the back exit of the building, darting past both Arrion and Einhold with such speed that Arrion could hardly make out any features of what he thought was a man. The sudden occurrence startled Einhold, who almost dropped the bottle when the supposed man brushed past him.


    ¡°What the hell was---,¡± Arrion began, but was cut off when Einhold dropped what he was carrying and charged out of the shop. After pausing for a moment to load his musket, Arrion took off after Einhold, sprinting into the street. After seeing Einhold¡¯s heel disappear behind an alley corner, he adjusted his direction. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Once Arrion caught up, he and Einhold found themselves running through seemingly endless alleyways that wove in between the large buildings. The bright yellowish brickwork of the populated streets slowly dirtied and darkened, giving way to an incessant film of glistening grime and grease of unknown origin. The sunlight struggled to find its place in these dark sepia halls, and the lack thereof did not help their situation.


    ¡°May I ask why we¡¯re running?¡± Arrion said in between breaths as he pounded after Einhold. ¡°The bastard took my money!¡± He panted over his shoulder, before abruptly veering right as quickly as naturally possible for a man of his bulk. Arrion skidded, using the grimy corner of the building next to him as an anchor to swing him around more efficiently. Arrion was befuddled as to how Einhold even knew where the thief was. All he could see past Einhold¡¯s large torso were glimpses of a black figure darting this way and that, sometimes so fast that only a blur signified that anyone was there at all.


    Soon Arrion could hear the strained heaving breaths that Einhold was taking, and he too began to feel the burn of exhaustion in his muscles. The thief was losing them and widening the gap between himself and Einhold. Arrion knew he had to do something fast. As the backstreet before them began to straighten out, Arrion could clearly see the figure for a moment, as well as smaller pathways branching out from the main alley.


    ¡°I wonder¡­ a grid patterned city block?¡± Arrion thought. It was a gamble, but he was willing to try it. As they sharply veered into another straight alleyway, Arrion suddenly broke off from behind an oblivious Einhold and darted down one of the side alleys. He increased his speed as much as he could, legs burning with fatigue. One, two, three side alleys passed by Arrion in his sprint. He needed to be several feet in front of the thief in order for his plan to work, and he wasn¡¯t even sure how far ahead he was.


    ¡°Now, turn now!¡± they said urgently, prodding his consciousness.


    ¡°Damn it all!¡± Arrion decided, skidding to a halt in front of the sixth side alley leading back to the main backstreet, before hurtling down the narrow passage. As Arrion neared the main alley, he rotated his body so that he was running shoulder first, bracing for an impact. He soon heard Einhold¡¯s ragged breaths echoing throughout the edifices. Having no time to register what happened, Arrion¡¯s shoulder connected with the body of another, hard. The collision sent both him and the thief into the left wall of the alley, while Einhold jumped over them as he struggled to halt himself in time. Arrion rolled to the side and landed in a puddle of blackened water by the greasy wall, tasting blood in his mouth. The thief recovered quickly, springing to his feet and attempting to escape through another side alley, but Einhold¡¯s large arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders, holding him in place.


    ¡°Hold it!¡± Arrion hollered, straightening up. Einhold twisted the thief¡¯s right arm into a half-nelson as Arrion wrung the water out of his cloak, scowling at the thief. The man they caught had an absurdly feminine visage. Arrion scrutinized his smooth dark brown hair and elegant face not unlike the symmetrical regality of a typical noble.


    ¡°Alright! Alright! I won¡¯t struggle! Loosen your grip, you giant, my arm¡¯s gonna come off!¡± The thief howled, beads of sweat making their way down his pale skin. Einhold smirked and released the thief, keeping hold of his right arm.


    ¡°It would serve your thieving ass right! You dare steal money from me? FROM ME!?¡± He bellowed into the thief¡¯s face, squeezing the man¡¯s wrist so hard that Arrion thought it would shatter into a thousand pieces. Seething over his injuries, Arrion limped over to the pair. Einhold yanked the thief¡¯s hood down, revealing that the culprit was, in fact, neither grey, nor exonite, nor a man.


    ¡°An elf?¡± Arrion said in bewilderment as the thief¡¯s long pointed ears were exposed.


    ¡°Yes! I¡¯m an elf! And what of it?¡± The elf retorted, working her wrist into a more comfortable position in Einhold¡¯s grip.


    ¡°Fraking hell, fair folk resorting to crime, and I thought your kind were a well to do lot,¡± Einhold chortled. The elf said nothing, but glared contemptuously back at her captor.


    ¡°We can use a good thief,¡± They said in amusement.


    ¡°What?¡± Arrion muttered, low enough that he was not heard over Einhold and the elf¡¯s bickering. When no answer came, Arrion resigned himself to addressing it later and stepped toward the elf. ¡°Ey, what¡¯s your name?¡± he asked, cutting across Einhold¡¯s next slur.


    The elf looked up after a moment of intense consideration. ¡°Irendria,¡± she said quietly, while Einhold forced her knees downward.


    ¡°You¡¯re lying,¡± Arrion said abruptly.


    ¡°I am not! Why should I have to lie? Once I rid myself of you, we will never cross paths again! That I will make quite sure of,¡± Irendria spat back, glaring at her two captors. The alley began to dim dramatically as the cloud cover obscured the sun from view, shrouding it in a silvery cotton haze. Something caught Arrion¡¯s gaze in the distant hall: a wrinkled whitish poster that contrasted harshly against the brown murkiness of the bricks behind itself. Einhold followed Arrion¡¯s gaze toward the grimy wall.


    ¡°Say, that pest kinda looks like you, does she not?¡± Einhold teased, tilting the elf¡¯s face toward the paper. Before Arrion could pursue his curiosity, Einhold thrust the elf into his arms roughly.


    ¡°Hold her,¡± Einhold muttered. Arrion forced the elf to the ground with his leg by buckling her knee and gripping her shoulders.


    ¡°Oi! Here¡¯s your money alright? Just let me go already!¡± Irendria yelled, extricating with difficulty the stolen currency before tossing it to the ground with a strange movement of worry and urgency.


    ¡°Oh, I think we¡¯ll hold onto you for a while,¡± Einhold gushed, brushing past Arrion not unlike a large boulder rolling down a mountain slope. Irendria cursed under her breath and began to struggle again, twisting back and forth to loosen Arrion¡¯s grip. A sharp tearing noise drew the attention of the struggling elf and Arrion back to the wall. Einhold had ripped the thick yellowing parchment free of the filthy bricks, and was examining it closely. Arrion hauled Irendria across the pavement over to Einhold, who sported an increasingly widening smile with every flicker of his eyes across the damp parchment. The poster had a crude but decent stylused drawing of what looked to be a rough visage of Irendria from the shoulders up, inscribed with multiple sentences of varying font size regarding her crimes, capture reward, and lawful sentence. Whomever had drawn the portrait had evidently never seen her face or heard any reliable descriptions however, as the visage beneath the hood was shrowded intentionally with smeared and blackened grease.


    ¡°Six thousand Aeth, eh? Arrion, I believe we can buy our equipment ten times over with this frakin¡¯ reward,¡±


    Arrion returned Irendria to Einhold¡¯s custody before examining the article for himself.


    ¡°Let¡¯s turn this ankle-biter into the enforcers. They¡¯ll probably find some way to rip us off, but we can¡¯t possibly go wrong with a few thousand Aeth,¡± Einhold muttered over Arrion¡¯s shoulder. The elf continued to struggle, but weakly, now with a dismayed shortage of breath.


    ¡°Can¡¯t go back¡­ mustn''t go back¡­ ¡° Irendria chanted, her eyes darting over the stained cobblestones, as though searching for something. Arrion turned to Einhold, cocking his musket.


    ¡°Go find the enforcers. I¡¯ll watch her,¡±


    Einhold nodded, tossing Irendria forward onto a wheelless wooden cart half full of what looked to be rotten fruit. The two watched Einhold make his way down the oily brown backstreets until he rounded the nearest left alley corner, leaving them with naught but each other.


    ¡°Yo,¡± Arrion initiated as he watched Irendria shove herself off the wagon, bits and pieces of dried peels and fibers tumbling down her tight black tunic. The elf tilted her head up, dusting off her spliced and grayed pants.


    ¡°What?¡± She shot back, flicking the last orange peel off the thick rim of her boots.


    ¡°What¡¯s your real name, ¡®Irendria¡¯?''''


    ¡°You know it.¡±


    ¡°I know you¡¯re lying.¡±


    ¡°Believe what you want.¡±


    ¡°I will. I¡¯m assuming you come from Ardn?¡±


    The elf fell silent, narrowing her eyes in contempt.


    ¡°If you answer me, we can perhaps find an alternative to collecting your bounty,¡± Arrion suggested, copying Irendria¡¯s expression. The elf seemed to give in after a moment of bated breath, shrugging.


    ¡°... Far away, I suppose. I mean¡ªI don¡¯t remember,¡± Irendria sighed, hanging her head back to gaze at the iron gray clouds drifting above the pair. For a long moment, Irendria remained silent, her head gradually returned to the floor, and her eyes flickered across the alley. Arrion was mildly impressed with the elf. He leveled his musket and pushed himself off the wall.


    ¡°You¡¯re quite clever,¡± Arrion said with a slight grin.


    ¡°Where did that come from?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re trying to make me relax so you can escape, right?¡±


    The elf furrowed her brow, ¡°Do you blame me for it?¡±


    ¡°I suppose not,¡± Arrion chuckled, leaning back against the yellowing bricks, but keeping his musket aimed at Irendria¡¯s right leg. Another long silence followed, with a vague stare-down between the two. Eventually, Irendria returned her gaze to the skies.


    ¡°I can¡¯t go back to the mines, I¡¯ll kill myself before I¡¯m back to digging for that fraking salt.¡±


    ¡°Why resort to theft, then? Is there not the risk of being caught and returned to these¡­ mines?¡±


    ¡°Think I enjoy stealing? Well, it IS pretty exciting sometimes¡­ just knowing they will never find out it was you.¡± Irendria dropped her eyes back down to Arrion. ¡°I don¡¯t have much of a choice. If I don¡¯t steal, I can¡¯t eat. At least if I steal, there¡¯s a chance for me.¡±


    ¡°A chance for what? For just another day of hiding? Scavenging for food like one of those wormed up dogs?¡± Arrion asked, submitting another dry chuckle before continuing.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t living.¡±


    ¡°Heh. What do you consider worth living for?¡± Irendria scoffed, her face contorting into an expression of utter scorn. Arrion¡¯s eyes glistened as he took a step forward, the musket dropping below his waist before meeting the elf¡¯s toes.


    ¡°Adventure,¡±


    Irendria cocked her head slightly before looking down at the musket currently pressing against her right boot.


    ¡°I could disarm you easily,¡± she said matter-of-factly, narrowing her eyes.


    ¡°But you won¡¯t,¡± Arrion grinned. ¡°Because you¡¯re interested,¡±


    Irendria raised one eyebrow.


    ¡°What exactly am I supposed to be interested in?¡±


    ¡°An adventure. A quest to find forgotten treasure, like in all your story books.¡±


    ¡°Sounds fun, but what good will it do to drag me along? This filthy place has grown on me. It keeps me fed.¡±


    ¡°The loot from this venture will keep you fed for a hundred lifetimes.¡±


    Irendria remained silent once again. This time, she did not move her eyes.


    ¡°And if I refuse?¡± she queried, shooting Arrion a piercing look. Gray, her eyes were an impure gray, not unlike the thunder clouds that Arrion¡¯s family used to fear during the hunting season.


    ¡°Then we¡¯ll turn you in. We need your reward, and we have a crucial goal¡ª¡±


    ¡°Crucial to you only,¡± Irendria interrupted. Arrion chose to ignore this. He knew the elf had no choice; all Irendria needed was a reminder of her possible fate.


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome to spend the rest of your days as a salt miner,¡± Arrion hissed.


    ¡°I¡¯m offering you an alternative to gutter life. I¡¯m offering you a chance to make something of your miserable self,¡± he continued, tapping the barrel of the musket against a particularly wet and brown pavestone. Irendria¡¯s mouth at first began to contort into a grimace, before reversing itself and curling its left corner into a one-sided grin.


    ¡°What happens when your companion returns?¡± she wondered, staring down the alley out of which Einhold made his exit.


    ¡°No worries there,¡± Arrion replied simply, retreating back to the opposite wall. After seeing the blackish streaks of filth upon the moldy straw colored bricks, he decided against leaning himself once again. A cloud soon relinquished its dominion over the sun¡¯s power, and a gash of pure light tore through the heavens, casting the alleyway in a flood of gold. The pavestones lost their lackluster iron color, and for a moment glowed as bronze tiles.


    This splendor was soon lost as the sun submitted once more to the clouds, and the backstreet returned to its execrable self.

 CHAPTER 3 Trio

    Step. Step. Step.


    A cacophony of boots upon the pavestones drew the pair¡¯s attention down the alleyway. In truth, Arrion had no idea what he was to do. Most likely, the oncoming group was composed of Einhold and what sounded like three or four enforcer members in tow. He had to act quickly. Arrion scanned the immediate area, finally landing his eyes upon the wagon and its strewn contents.


    ¡°Hey¡­¡± Irendria frantically muttered, a slight hint of pleading in her voice. Arrion kicked bits of rotten produce down the opposite end of the hall, creating a path of multicolored husks and peels. He grabbed Irendria¡¯s shoulders, sweeping the elf¡¯s legs out from under her, before rolling her beneath the decaying wagon. Loose splinters and fruit fragments shook from the jostled wagon as Arrion straightened up, not bothering to dust himself off.


    ¡°Oi, you!¡± a deep, grating voice sounded. Arrion whirled around, reforming his face into a scowl and clutching his ribs. The owner of the vocal was a tall man of considerable build, with vertically bulging shoulders and a trapezoidal jawline. His left eye was a faint brown rimmed with a gray halo, and seemed to contradict the man¡¯s rather severe face, which was chiseled with deep shadows and creases that gave him the look of a very indignant oak tree. The man¡¯s right eye, however, was something entirely different.


    The iris was a piercing shade of abyssal cobalt, unmoving, and unblinking. A number of thin dark tinted veins originated from the region of the right eye, creeping their way to the man¡¯s temple where they wrapped around the right side of his scalp.


    ¡°Halt!¡± The three other enforcers cried in unison, each unsheathing his shortsword with a short but piercing SHING. Arrion straightened up, still cradling his mock injuries.


    ¡°There you are, finally! I regret to inform you that you¡¯re too late!¡± he growled, pointing forcefully down the alley, now strewn with decayed fruit matter.


    ¡°Your tricks are getting less and less impressive! Take him!¡± The supposed leader yelled, motioning to the other members with his sword.


    ¡°No, you bleedin¡¯ idiots, the thief¡¯s gone already,¡± Arrion said between shallow breaths, pointing again haphazardly down the alley.


    ¡°The bastard took me down and legged it!¡± He panted, using the wall to stabilize himself. The enforcer captain¡¯s right eye narrowed, following the trail of fruit matter to the end of the stained pathway. Two of his subordinates wearing dark silvery capes over what seemed to be blackened mail walked forward, converging upon the still wagon. Arrion felt a drop of sweat roll down his temple, and turned to the left to conceal it from view. The captain lumbered over to the wagon, his boots pulverizing the few intact moonpeels* still scattered over the pavement. From behind one of the men, Einhold¡¯s arm swung upward.


    ¡°Oi! That isn¡¯t the man! Remember, I told you she was an elf,¡± he cried over the group¡¯s heads, pushing through the greys. The captain turned his grizzled face back down the street once more, the grey¡¯s blade tipping forward out of his grip. He finally resumed an overhand grip on the shortsword, sheathing it smoothly in his red and gold emblazoned scabbard.


    ¡°After her.¡±


    At the captain¡¯s words, the other enforcers hurried down the alley, their heavy footsteps followed by the pitter-patter of muddy water droplets impacting the stone edifices. The captain glanced back at Arrion and Einhold, his eyes running over the wagon and the stained bay walls. He eventually turned away and followed his subordinates at a slow jog, disappearing behind the corner.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Einhold¡¯s voice jolted Arrion¡¯s eyes away from the echoing footfalls.


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± He said, unclasping his ribcage as his scowl faded. They stood silently for a moment, watching the alley settle.


    ¡°So, she got away, did she?¡± Einhold finally said, bending down to retrieve his scattered money. Arrion walked over to the tilted wagon.


    ¡°Not quite,¡± he murmured.


    Arrion¡¯s fingers found the bottom edge of the side boards, hoisting the cart a few feet into the air to reveal Irendria curled up beneath the dusty planks.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Einhold yelled, fumbling for his tuber. Irendria scrambled out from under the wagon, waving his hands submissively.


    ¡°It¡¯s all right, mate, I made her hide,¡± Arrion said, stepping in front of the crouched elf.


    ¡°Yeah yeah it¡¯s alright! Quit pointing that thing at me!¡± Irendria added frantically from behind Arrion. Einhold slowly lowered the gun, furrowing his brow.


    ¡°What is this?¡± Einhold asked, deciding against uncocking his tuber. Arrion grabbed Irendria¡¯s shoulder, pulled her up.


    ¡°We need not submit her to the enforcers, I¡¯ve decided,¡±


    ¡°And what gives you any right to decide things without me?¡± Einhold demanded.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ sorry. I should have thought of it earlier and decided with you, but you were gone,¡± Arrion said, nodding apologetically before stopping Einhold with raised hands.


    ¡°She swiped your money from right under your nose, and I barely had time to see it. We need fast hands, you¡¯re a huge bloke and I was raised under the law - we haven¡¯t the tools for ¡­ pilferage.¡±


    Einhold paced in front of the elf, his grip tight on the tuber.


    ¡°You say we can trust her?¡± He asked, his back to Arrion.


    ¡°Aye, I¡¯ll put down on it if need be.¡±


    ¡°Ack, so frakin¡¯ be it,¡± Einhold growled, rolling his shoulders before lowering his massive frame to Irendria¡¯s level.


    ¡°If I wake up tomorrow with my pockets empty, I¡¯ll have my partner here find you. He¡¯s a hunter, see, and when he leads me to you - there won¡¯t be any bribe or blessing the Emperor could offer me to refrain from breaking every damned bone in your body,¡±


    Irendria looked terror-stricken.


    Did she?


    Arrion watched her chest rise and fall just as slowly as it did during their little chat.


    He remembered how rapidly the animals he¡¯d shot over the years drew breath in their final moments, how their chests heaved for air whenever he stepped on the odd patch of dried leaves as he stalked them.


    ¡°Let¡¯s hop to it, I¡¯ve ¡®ad enough of this place,¡± Einhold said, swiveling his head to find the way they came.


    ¡°Splendidly benevolent community, eh?¡±


    ¡°Shut it.¡±


    The city proved less congested as the trio moved into the outer ring of lodgings and more temporary structures of wood and plaster amid Einhold¡¯s incessant remonstrations. The men of the group observed disconsolately as the brickwork and four-cornered columns of the inner city gave way to the mildew streaked precarious wooden planks and logwalls of the slums.


    ¡°I can-not frakin¡¯ believe you, boy, we¡¯ve been on the move for WEEKS,¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve got food, we¡¯ve got her. We¡¯re not wasting any more time here, mate,¡±


    ¡°How is being well rested for the journey ahead wasting time? When¡¯s the next time we¡¯ll be able to sleep in a BED?¡± Einhold spat back, throwing his arms up.


    ¡°I wanna sleep in a bed¡­¡± Came a small voice from behind the pair.


    ¡°You don¡¯t get the bed after your little stunt, elf. We¡¯ll leave you locked in the privy,¡± Einhold said as Irendria ducked under his flailing limbs to move ahead of the pair.


    ¡°Privy?¡±


    ¡°Gods below, you really are a frakin¡¯ street rat.¡±


    The elf pursed her lips, exhaling.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡± She asked, slowing down to their pace.


    ¡°I¡¯ve also been meaning to ask you, boy, where ARE we going?¡± Einhold added, casting an acidic glare at Irendria as though she¡¯d once again swindled something from him.


    ¡°West.¡±


    Einhold and the elf stared at Arrion.


    ¡°Uh, I¡¯ll explain more when we¡¯re out of the city - walls have ears and all that.¡±


    Einhold narrowed his eyes.


    ¡°So let me straighten something out,¡± he said, soft fury draping his words as he held his hands in front of himself in emphasis.


    ¡°You¡¯re dragging us right up to the front lines, where the fraking orange and yellowhides have sacked half the countryside - AND YOU WON¡¯T LET US GET ONE LAST GOOD NIGHT¡¯S REST!?¡±


    ¡°Einhold, do you know how many people like us are out in the wastes at this very moment? We¡¯re not the only blokes searching for this prize, and we certainly won¡¯t be the first to find it if we don¡¯t take this seriously.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the prize?¡± Irendria interjected.


    ¡°When we¡¯re OUT of here,¡± Arrion said, his restraint slipping for a moment.


    The bickering lasted all the way through the outskirts of Gerendal, prompting many a grimey shutter to be thrown open and harsh words hurled at the exiting trio.


    ¡°We can make camp in the valleys to the west. With any luck, the cold season will have forced all the drovers to the coast for the winter¡­ At least, that¡¯s how it works where I¡¯m from,¡± Arrion said, pulling Einhold away from a careening corpse-wagon.


    ¡°God, the smell¡ª¡± Irendria began, sneezing out the putrid odors as they wafted over the group. Einhold and Arrion watched darkly as the mound of bodies quivered with every stone the wagon wheels hit.


    ¡°The war¡¯s really moving east, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Aye, and we¡¯re walking right into it.¡±


    Arrion blew what he could out of his nose, turning to see a dozen more such carriages trundling up the gravel road.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here.¡±


    The hills west of Gerendal were nestled between the great cliffs of the southern canyons, used as pastures for the livestock of the Enclave. They were ancient, the birthplace of the Grey people and a culture far older than the First Founding - older than even the primitive Hixites that predated the Emperor.


    The trio passed between the numerous remains of overgrown foundations, massive stone slabs cut with the piety and fervor of the ancient cults. Pillars of the dark sediments found at the base of the Augmarian ranges stood scattered across the rust-colored grass of the hills, all without temples to uphold and devotees to shelter at their base. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Arrion pointed and swept his finger across the ruddy mounds that surrounded them,


    ¡°Watch the slopes. An overhanging stone would be ideal - breaks up the smoke from our fire.¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you being a pinch too paranoid, boy?¡±


    The elf shook her head.


    ¡°I¡¯m still a wanted criminal - if the Enforcers are still after me, it¡¯s actually better if we don¡¯t light any fires at all.¡±


    ¡°Aw-shuttup, elf, we¡¯ve gotta cook the mea¡ª¡± Einhold broke off, roughly unslinging his crude leather sack. The two others watched as Einhold pulled out cloth wrappings, various masonry tools, nails, scraps of paper, and other mundane effects.


    ¡°Damn!¡± He bellowed, causing the two to flinch.


    Arrion knelt beside him, observing the loosened wrappings in his calloused hands fall apart. Irendria wrinkled her nose as a rotting stench caught the winds blowing through their midst. The two men beheld a small stack of what looked to be sliced boar chops, streaked with dozens of small orange splotches - each blot hosting a clump of stubby cream-colored mushrooms.


    ¡°The meat¡¯s turned.¡±


    Irendria held a longer cloth wrapping aloft with two fingers hooked into its knot, ¡°We¡¯ve still got the bread. It¡¯ll keep ¡®till the next town at least.¡±


    They moved further west, Einhold and Irendria¡¯s breaks lengthening as the undulating path wore upon their legs. As the bickering pair reclined below the shade of a shattered column, Arrion ran his hands though the thin-bladed grass - watching the reddish clumps yield to his weight. It was thinner and lighter than the green grasses further east, but harder to tear and rip out.


    ¡°What¡¯re you doing, boy?¡±


    A great shadow fell over Arrion¡¯s hands as the mason sorely lowered himself onto a white streaked stone opposite him.


    ¡°Hunting here would¡¯ve been easier,¡± Arrion mused.


    ¡°See?¡± He pointed at the ground before them, kicking out over the grass.


    ¡°¡ªmakes no noise, and there are plenty of big stones around for cover,¡±


    Einhold¡¯s gaze followed Arrion¡¯s boots before resting on the falling sun in the West.


    ¡°Come sundown it¡¯ll be easier to hunt us in these hills,¡± the elf muttered, joining the pair in their sun-gazing.


    Einhold glanced at her, seemingly irked at the breaking of their silence,


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°During the cold season the drovers make the big push to the coast, so they can sell off the year¡¯s yields and livestock before the frost kills the animals.¡± Irendria stopped, quickly peering across the dimming horizon before continuing.


    ¡°That¡¯s when the raiders come down from the mountains, so they can shear off a bit of meat for their clans - maybe a few slaves as well.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯ve just remembered this NOW?¡±


    ¡°Einhold, lay off!¡±


    The elf grabbed Arrion¡¯s collar. ¡°We¡¯ve gotta find a place to hide - I thought it was a bit early for raiding season, but look how cold the wind¡¯s getting!¡±


    ¡°Oi, pipe down,¡± Arrion groaned, removing her hands.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just find a big stone. I¡¯ll take being half concealed over sitting out here in the open.¡±


    The other two nodded as he unslung his musket. ¡°There, on that smaller mound,¡±


    They followed his finger to a larger darkstone head half buried atop one of the less prominent hills.


    ¡°Haul it!¡±


    Arrion once again felt Einhold¡¯s bulk push past him, staggering into his own run as he grabbed Irendria¡¯s arm.


    The following minutes were spent in a hushed urgency. Einhold struggled with his pack in the waning light as Arrion gathered whatever dry kindling he could from around the fallen idol.


    The elf sat atop the wizened head, her eyes watching the landscape as though the hills themselves threatened to swallow her whole.


    ¡°Aha!¡± Einhold cried out, yanking out a bundle of wrapped firewood amid Irendria¡¯s frantic shushing.


    ¡°I dunno what you¡¯re ¡®aha-ing¡¯ about. We¡¯ve got nothing to cook, you old bastard!¡± she whispered angrily, sliding down the statue¡¯s creased forehead amid the clicks of Einhold¡¯s flintstarter.


    ¡°Still beats freezing to death out here.¡±


    Arrion watched as the sky lost the last vestiges of orange and maroon, settling into a deep ocean-like blue.


    The night was too bright.


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t you ¡®ave picked a less¡­ angry stone? I don¡¯t like the way this bloke¡¯s looking at me,¡± Einhold grumbled, warming a chunk of bread above the feeble flames as he side-eyed the glowering stone face. Arrion shrugged, looking into the statue¡¯s cracked eyes. It was much bigger up close than he thought, just half the head was already some two fathoms high - to think this construction stood upright in some long forgotten age.


    He grabbed his musket as Irendria prepared to sit on the stone it was resting on.


    ¡°Sooo¡­ let¡¯s hear it then.¡± She said, wiping her hands on the grass.


    ¡°The prize,¡± She continued, scowling at Einhold as he moved the bread loaf out of her reach.


    Arrion reached for his left pocket, feeling them emerge into his thoughts.


    ¡°Don¡¯t speak of Ichorium.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re all too paranoid.¡±


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have made it this far if we weren¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Debatable. They trusted me enough to come with me, why can¡¯t I return that trust?¡±


    ¡°Tell them it is simply treasure, that isn¡¯t a lie.¡±


    He withdrew a folded scrap of parchment, feeling the same knot he always felt in his throat when he looked at it. The torn fragment still retained some of the burnt edges, his mother¡¯s work. He unfolded it as Einhold raised himself and leaned over to observe the scrawl.


    ¡°Uhh¡­ I can¡¯t read that imperial stuff.¡± the elf said, squinting in the flickering light.


    ¡°And I can¡¯t read upside down.¡± Einhold added, shuffling around the fire before squatting next to Arrion. The wind whispered through their camp, dimming the fire and bringing the first vestiges of the frost with it.


    ¡°H-Han - Han¨Clet? No¡­ Han¡­ Han¡­¡± Einhold sounded out, his eyebrows marrying. Arrion suppressed a chuckle, the angular shadows the fire cast upon his creased face made him out like one of the comical villains of the stories he used to read.


    ¡°Can you actually read, grandfather?¡±


    Einhold threw the elf a volcanic glance.


    ¡°It says Hanlen Stead, outside of Medria. The westmost city of the Enclave.¡± Arrion finished, replacing the parchment.


    ¡°It¡¯s a house,¡± he continued, ¡°Well, more like a small mansion from what I¡¯ve heard. It is ¡ª was owned by the Tarclan guild before they handed it to my father¡¯s old friend.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re visiting a friend of your father¡¯s then.¡±


    ¡°Aye, his name is Earnheart - Ernie¡¯s what we called him though.¡±


    Arrion pursed his lips, trying to work out an explanation that wouldn¡¯t take all night. They needed to get all the sleep they could while they had the chance.


    ¡°My father disappeared two years ago.¡±


    Einhold raised his eyebrows as Irendria looked back at the fire, bringing her knees to her chest.


    ¡°Ernie was with him, leading the first and last Tarclan expedition to the lost city. It went¡­ badly. He only told me that they were forced out of the ruins when they got attacked by imperial agents and the Jaag, but I think he¡¯s leaving things out.¡±


    Arrion paused, throwing a log onto the desperately crackling fire.


    ¡°No¡­ I know he¡¯s leaving things out. My father was separated from the party as they were escaping the ruins, Ernie couldn¡¯t find him again after that.¡±


    ¡°Wait so this is actually a rescue?¡±


    ¡°No. I doubt he¡¯s¡­ still around anymore.¡±


    ¡°...Sorry mate, I didn¡¯t ¡ª ¡° Irendria began.


    ¡°What we¡¯re after,¡± Arrion cut across her, ¡°¡ªis what they found in those ruins.¡±


    He reached for his pack this time, holding one finger up in forestallment. Einhold ripped another piece of bread free as he stared down the statue with a similar expression. It seemed as though the great stone visage was a fourth member of the gathering around this meager fire, begrudgingly bearing witness to the beginnings of a journey it would never be part of.


    Arrion¡¯s hand closed around it. The last memento of the expedition, one that his mother had rescued from Earnheart¡¯s drunken rampages as he tried to destroy himself and anything he had brought back from those forsaken ruins. He withdrew his hand, letting his fingers uncurl before his companions.


    In Arrion¡¯s palm lay a small coin, silvery and wrought with impossible quality. Its edges sported diagonal grooves of very fine width, giving the illusion of a flat surface from far enough away. Upon one side of the coin was etched an incredibly precise image, the profile of a man, his jawline immaculate and his eyes depthless in spite of his flat nature. Everything on the figure was evident in unnatural detail, from his stubble to the subtle wrinkles across his forehead.


    ¡°Never seen a coin pressed this well, this isn¡¯t the work of the capital. Not even the Greys could make something like this.¡± Einhold remarked, holding the coin up to the firelight where its almost flawless surface reflected the dim flames like a miniature lighthouse.


    ¡°What¡¯s that on the back?¡± Irendria asked, tilting her head to see the other side of the coin. Einhold flipped it over.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure what it is. Could be a map, or some kind of sigil.¡± Arrion said, feeding the fire again. The coin¡¯s opposing side illustrated a smaller circle within the rim of the coin, its surface embossed with a patternless group of asymmetrical shapes. Wrapped around the circumference of the circle were several letters, seemingly forming a phrase.


    ¡°The lettering¡¯s almost imperial like, but it makes no sense if I read it with our language.¡±


    ¡°Alright, I figure there¡¯s more where it came from, yes?¡± Irendria asked, flicking the coin into Arrion¡¯s lap. He nodded, placing it on a lichen covered stone next to him.


    ¡°It¡¯s not just the coins, there are lost works of technology in the ruins. They were filled with strange machines, none of the party could really tell what they were for though. We could find stuff that¡¯s priceless on the guild market, hell, maybe we can sell even to the Emperor himself.¡±


    Einhold grinned, straightening up.


    ¡°How many other bastards know about the ruins?¡± He asked, folding his arms.


    ¡°Outside the guild? Few, if any, I¡¯d imagine. Fewer still who have the guts to travel that deep into the range.¡±


    ¡°And the guild won¡¯t make a second run of it?¡±


    ¡°I doubt it, from what I¡¯ve heard the guild isn¡¯t what it used to be. Past their prime.¡±


    ¡°Then we¡¯ve got a¡ª¡± Einhold grabbed the coin, shoving it in their faces, ¡°¡ªsilvery opportunity!¡±


    ¡°That was awful.¡±


    ¡°I agree. But the point is - we¡¯ve got to get at those mountains before anyone else does. I say we nick some horses¡ª¡±


    ¡°Hang on.¡± Irendria said, glaring at the fire. The two men turned to face her.


    ¡°Let me just understand something.¡± The elf stood, moving around to stand in front of the statue, her face mirroring the colossus behind her.


    ¡°You¡¯re expecting us to¡ª¡± She extended a finger as though counting, ¡°¡ªsurvive for weeks out in that mess of a western front, avoid getting killed by the Jaag, climb mountains, live out in the wilds for who knows how long, and through all of that manage to haul enough treasure to actually make a profit?¡±


    Irendria let herself lean against the face of the statue, folding her arms.


    ¡°That¡¯s a bit of a tall order for a big oaf, a hunter, and¡ª¡± She gestured up and down her own body, ¡°¡ªme.¡±


    ¡°I disagree.¡± Arrion said, accepting the coin back.


    ¡°Aye, yeh¡¯ve got no backbone elf. I should¡¯ve expected as much.¡±


    ¡°This is suicide, Arrion.¡± Irendria whispered angrily, ignoring Einhold.


    Arrion stepped forward.


    ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know much of the world. But I know it is breaking. Nothing¡¯s going to be easy in the next few years, and before that reality settles in I intend to rise above it.¡±


    Arrion held up the coin.


    ¡°This is nothing¡ª¡±


    He tossed the piece into the fire.


    ¡°¡ªnothing compared to what lies in those mountains.¡±


    The elf stared into the fire.


    ¡°We¡¯re not some gang of guild hopefuls who think they can make it big with enough luck. We have the information, the leads, we have the beginnings of the trail to this bounty. We can win.¡±


    Hearing no answer, Arrion lowered himself onto his stone.


    ¡°It¡¯s either this or the mines, Irendria.¡±


    ¡°Is that a threat?¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t keep pinching clueless foreigners forever. Someday you will slip up, rob the wrong person, trip over fleeing the scene, perhaps a drought hits the city, or a famine, and then what? Eventually you will die, starving, filthy, and surrounded with no company but the rats waiting to gnaw at your bones.¡±


    Arrion ripped a huge chunk of Einhold¡¯s loaf free as the latter groaned in protest.


    ¡°You¡¯ll live for hundreds of years, you¡¯ll live to see this world reduced to ashes.¡±


    Striding over, he thrust the bread into the elf¡¯s hands.


    ¡°At least face it with a full belly and a warm bed, staring up at a gilded roof.¡±


    Peering at her lowered face, Arrion thought he saw a trace of anger. He stepped back, extending his hand.


    ¡°Are you with me?¡±


    The elf considered the bread for a moment, as though it would offer guidance.


    ¡°Damn it¡ª¡± She growled, taking Arrion¡¯s hand, ¡°¡ªI suppose a bed of my own couldn¡¯t hurt.¡±


    ¡°And you, Einhold? Stonemason, or famed explorer?¡±


    Einhold¡¯s grin returned, his eyes lit up the same way they did back when Arrion had first asked him to join the quest.


    ¡°The treasure is ours for the taking.¡±