Book 2: Chapter 36: The Long Road

Book 2: Chapter 36: The Long Road

Some would have you believe that the gods and their games do not exist. Some believe that they are dead, or that they are both alive and dead. Others would posit that the divines have been dying for thousands of years, their blood seeping into the ground, into the water, into the air. The very air we breathe, the water we drink, and the ground we tread may all contain traces of this divine essence. And so, the gods continue to exert their influence upon us, whether we believe in them or not. That is the origin of the gift-spark, the curse of Mana.

- On the Prophecy of the Gods, by Gideon de Salavia 376 AC.

For the rest of the journey up to the Rump, not wanting to upset the balance and status quo, I heeded Khalam’s counsel and, for the most part, steered clear of the Crows whenever feasible. Nonetheless, there were instances where I could not completely avoid them, such as when participating in a joint patrol around the encampment at night, or scouting on horseback. Despite this, I tried to maintain a low profile, neither impolite nor forthcoming with my details.

However, there was one event that raised a few eyebrows among the people of the caravans. One evening, tired and unable to deal with the rasping saw that was Kidu’s breathing, I went outside for a bit of fresh air and to enjoy the sight of unfamiliar stars painted across an unfamiliar sky. I walked a little way from the ring of the wagons, to meditate and reflect.

Away from the caravan, for practice, I released my Entropic Aura as I looked up at the celestials on high, wondering if Earth’s sun was among their number. Thus, I remained until sleep found me.

Dawn’s touch, her rosy fingers staining the morning sky, was what awoke me the next day. I quickly rose to my feet, for all around me was a circle of wilted grass and dusty dead earth. Understanding hit me, and I stopped my Entropic Aura and retreated back into my wagon. A quick check of status revealed that my spell had increased in level during the night while I slept. It had been careless of me to leave the spell activated.

That same morning, there was a rumor floating, a rumor that we had passed by a barrow grave or some other nonsense about a ‘Witch spot.’ I received a few odd looks from Kidu and Elwin, but thankfully none of them asked me any pointed questions.

As the days passed, the Rump could be seen, growing larger in the distance. A few more uneventful days and we found ourselves at the top of those hills. Once they had found a suitable place to stop, Laes and Gelgor began to organize their people for the coming rains. Stakes were hammered down, wagons secured, and a great tent of oiled and waxed tarp was erected for the animals. Repairs were made, and I had to treat a few injuries. Dumuzi was among those who had suffered, for a Ruar had stepped on his foot. However, by the Grace of the Goddess, as the Crows had come to call, my Heal spell fixed his broken bones and bruised flesh, saving him from a future of being lame. A tearful Catalina tried to give me some of what little money she had, but I refused it with a smile, touched her shoulder, and told her that instead I would be delighted if she could cook for me a meal someday. I was sure that, if I played my cards right, I could get something more.

I welcomed all of the requests for healing, as they allowed me to practice my magic and earn a few coins. Not to mention, that the generous use of my spells elevated my standing with the people of both caravans.

The Crows and Ravens were ready now, ready to wait out the coming rains. Steadily, the days grew darker as more clouds, carried by a northerly wind, floated in. In the far distance was a black sky of darker clouds, pregnant with rain. At the edge of that dark horizon was a stark line of bone white, the beginning of the Whispering Wastes.

That same day, under Laes' direction, a sturdy man in his thirties approached me. Because of his long dirty blonde hair, which was really more of a light brown on closer inspection, I recognized him from our evening meals, but this was the first time I had made his acquaintance.

Feeling rather motivated by my new equipment, I practiced running in my suit of steel after the evening meal. My companions thought I was insane. God-touched, they said. And God-touched I am, but not quite in the way that you mean, I thought to myself.

They expected me to soon tire, but they would be proven wrong. After my tenth lap around the big camp, weapon and shield in hand, I was barely out of breath. Admittedly, I was not wearing my helm, which allowed me to shed a bit more heat and draw in a bit more air, but I believed it was impressive nonetheless. This was the benefit of putting the majority of my bonus points into my Constitution attribute. My Health and Stamina had basically grown through the roof. I kept running, occasionally taking a swig from the water flask at my side. Still, I ran on, and this continued until people stopped their business for the evening to watch the loon who was running laps around the camp in full armor.

You have learned Endure (lvl.4)

Drenched in sweat, I smiled as I took in the notice, savoring my success. I guess I finally had an answer for what the Endure skill did. It helped me endure. So I kept on running, picking up my pace as some of the children joined me, thinking it was some sort of event. Ten minutes later, as I jumped over a waist-high barrel for sport, much to the delight of the children in my wake, I was given yet another notice.

You have gained 1 Constitution.

You have learned Heavy Armor (lvl.5)

Oh well. There went the nice round number of forty for my Constitution - not that I was really complaining. It was perhaps a good time to stop, anyways. My Stamina was around twenty percent and I could do with a quick break. As fate would have it, a few minutes later I was pulled aside by Khalam.

"Best save a little for later, lad. You're on the middle watch," Khalam half-ordered in a gruff voice, with a little more respect in his eyes. "I've heard stories of the legions of the Old Empire running for miles all day in full gear, and your little performance gives some truth to those tales. But it's best if you don't draw more attention to yourself."

Without any words to refute him, I had no choice but to comply and save my energy for later. I took a place next to the fire where my companions and friends sat. Larynda looked at me in rapt awe, Kidu looked proud, Cordelia murmured a prayer, and even Elwin gave me a respectful nod free of his usual cynicism.

As the evening continued, stories and tales were exchanged. Kidu’s tales of the icy North were, as always, as grim as the land they came from, and very short. For the most part they were usually about this somebody killing this somebody over some sort of perceived slight. There was little drama and excitement that could fit into a ‘story’ only a few sentences long, and no amount of prompting could get him to expand upon them or give more detail.

Cordelia’s stories were a little more in line with a bible recitation of the old testament. She went on about how Avaria judged so and so, and how so and so got his or her just desserts. Despite her questionable material, her delivery was near-perfect as she could truly draw you in. It was more than simple recitation. Her belief and faith in her words were hypnotic and infectious, the mark of a great proselytizer.

Elwin’s tales consisted mainly of well-known ribald stories, sometimes mixed in with accounts of his own life. “And could not wait to taste the sweetness of her creamy plate,” was one of his more-memorable moments from his recitation of the ‘Milkmaid and the Lord’. This caused Cordelia to stiffen and blush, and cover Larynda’s ears with her hands. Dumuzi asked his mother what exactly the line meant, causing her to stutter, but Elwin promised to tell him when he was a bit older.

For the first time in a long while, I felt content.