Now, outside of the city, we still need to decide which route we are taking to head to Everico. We could take the fastest and most dangerous route through the Shermine woods and through Creeten, or we could take the longer and safer route over the coast, around mount Sovran and through Terhelm. The path through Shermine and Creeten would take at most five days, not counting if we get stopped by a monster. We would have to take shelter some nights in the forest because I doubt these three are used to travelling through the night. The path around the mountain would take at least fourteen days, counting for night’s sleep by the shore. Personally, I would much rather take the path through Shermine. My traveling circus, not so much.
“We are not taking the path through the forest,” Ryneld huffed crossing his furry limbs over his chest. Those brown eyes looked deadly and dangerous in an instant of the deadly woods.
“It’s the fastest way to Everico,” I argue with him as we stand at the fork in the road. The left road takes us through the woods, and the road to the right would take us down the coast. He stands at the path on the right, while I stand at the path on the left.
“Is it worth risking our own necks to try and get to the fort?” He questioned raising an eyebrow. Well, it wasn’t really an eyebrow, just the patch of fur that was a different color than the rest of his face that was over his eye. Kanonians and Felidals have a weird biology when it comes to the names of their body parts. I could never even attempt to pronounce them. “I know you want to reach Zideka as soon as possible, but if you die on the way there then you will never get your revenge.”
I growl through my teeth knowing he is right. He may have a valid point, but my point still stands that cutting through the woods is the fastest. Grady jumps of Ghirsham, which he retrieved from the stables before we left and moves over next to me and speaks softly to the dog. Somehow he was able to keep calm in this, but then again Grady seemed like the guy who would try to keep the peace between people and groups. Maybe he should be a politician, but I doubt he is good with actually leading anyone.
“Ryneld, I don’t want to head back into the forest just as much as the next person,” he says with a soft and gentle tone that sounds like a father talking to his son. “But, we have to get there as soon as possible. Who knows if Zideka will be there at the fort whenever we get there? But, if we take an even longer time we take a greater chance of letting him get away.”
That was exactly what I was trying to say, but the way Grady said it sounds better than I could have ever put it. Kahetia moves over next to us and looks at the Kanonian with sympathy though she stays quiet. Just a look shared between people who understand what the other is going through. I do feel bad for the animal races.
They have had a terrible time in Jerensi-a. The Kanonians were hunting slaves to human just a small two hundred years ago. They were sent on the dangerous hunts that would usually end up in lost limbs or lost life. The Felidals were just as bad, if not worse. They were used as sex slaves, they were traded through rich people to just have sex. They couldn’t reproduce with humans, their anatomy isn’t compatible with ours for reproduction. So, they merely became tools of sex. Not even the male Felidals were safe. Lords would buy them for their ladies to help the women reach ultimate pleasure because the Lords were inadequate.
It took an act of the High King to stop the slavery. In the year 413, High King Sarolo passed a law banning the slavery and made the animals races legal citizens of Jerensi-a. It was unheard of for any race beside humans and Lalinos to be citizens of Jerensi-a, the animals were property. Even though they are free of their slavery, they still face prejudice. Felidals and Kanonains are still pummeled in streets at night, raped in alley ways and killed for just being them. I could never imagine how it feels to be wished dead just for being alive. If you ask me, the Felidals and Kanonians should have stayed in Amalia for their own self being. They were probably safer in their own country rather than coming to ours. They have never been safe here until the High King Geoffry who passed a law that stated that any prejudice between humans and animal races, the ones who started it would end up with a short drop and sudden stop.
Ryneld sighs and uncrosses his arms, lowering them to his side. He huffs and pulls his hood down, brown eyes looking at us three standing on the path toward the Shermine Forest. “I can see I am outnumbered here. Alright, let’s get through this forest as fast as possible.” He moves over to us and gives a small smile to Kahetia who lays a paw on his back. Grady jumps onto the back of Ghirsham and looks down at me. I look down the path and head down the path that has been worn down by generations of walking to the city and toward the forest.
Although I was the one who wanted to head this way the most, I didn’t think I would enter the forest again within just two days. The forest is dangerous and not many get through it. I don’t want to put these three in anymore danger than need be, but we have to get to Everico as fast as possible. The forest is the fastest way between Meetal and Creeten and Creeten is close to the fort. Granted Terhelm is closer but to get to Terhelm we would have to head down the south coast at the base of Mouth Sovran, head north past The Keep, around the edge of Lake Treacy, through the city of Terhelm and then to Fort Everico. I am not about to give the man any more time to escape than need be.
We reach the edge of the forest and it almost seems like the dead of night in those dense woods. It’s a little after noon and the sun is bright in the sky, yet inside the forest it looks like perpetual midnight. We stand there and stare at the entrance for a few moments before I take a step forward. Grady follows in behind me and then Ryneld and Tia after him, and it doesn’t take long for the talking to begin. Grady is the first to start the prying of our backstories.
“Ryneld,” He starts with the mage first, slowing down Ghirsham to walk beside of him. Ryneld looks up to the man on the horse and with the movement of his head going back, his left ear flops upright. “What’s your story? Like, where are you from?”
He chuckles and looks ahead into the woods. “I am from Amalia. I figured that would be obvious.”
“Well, I didn’t want to assume you were from there just because you are a Kanonian,” Grady says with a frown, his attempts to not be racist turn against him.
Ryneld’s face softens a little and gazes back to the solemn man on the horse. “Thank you for not assuming, but yes, I am from Amalia.”
Grady perks back up, that was one of the few times I have seen him sad so far. “Where are your parents?”
The dog rubs the chin of his muzzle with an amused grin. “Back in Amalia. They tried to keep me from coming here to Jerensi-a. They said this was a country of speciesist who want nothing more than our kind dead.”
The air grows thick between all of us. Those last few words strike my heart rather hard. I recently just killed a Kanonian for money. I didn’t know the guy, he could have had a family with children and a wife. I do my best not to sympathize with my targets. Once I start thinking about his life outside of where we are in that moment, it becomes harder to kill. Thinking about the children’s eyes when their mother tells them their father is never coming back, makes it almost impossible to commit the deed. I can’t help but think about the mutt I killed the other night. Did he have a family that I took him from? Did the one who wanted him dead just want him gone because he was a Kanonian. Haywood told me that the mutt raped the man’s wife, but could that have been a lie just so someone will kill the mutt?
“Do you think Jerensi-a is like that?” Grady asks trying to break the tension.
Ryneld pauses for a little while, his thinking was obvious by the soft hum he let out. He opened his maw and took a breath, “I don’t think every Jerensi-an is like that. There are still some who hate my kind and Kahetia’s kind, but for the most part they show us respect. The mage’s academy is one of those places.” He gives a smile, as if remembering fond memories. “That is the reason I first came here to Jerensi-a. Magic and potions astonished me. I could save people’s lives with a potion. Heal them of their wounds or even bring them back from the dead. Or, so I thought.”
I am still walking deeper into the woods, cutting at any limb that got in our way. Even though I am cutting and hacking away at the trees and vines, I can hear the conversation behind me. I can almost see Grady tilting his head to the side, confused by what the guy meant.
“What do you mean? Aren’t there potions like that?” The Breetayan voice asks behind me.
“It takes a certain level of talent to make potions like that. Natural talent, usually only possessed by those chosen by Whodal himself,” he begins to explain to the group around him. Why is he sharing his life story with a guy he seriously just met? Then again, I did to. Grady seems to be that kind of person you can tell anything to. “I don’t have that natural and raw talent to be a skilled mage like that.”
“Ballocks!” Grady snaps and Ryneld jumps surprised by the sudden outburst.
“Excuse me?” Ryneld raises an eyebrow, stunned by the man’s exclamation.
“Natural talent isn’t a thing. You can do anything if you work hard enough and keep trying at whatever you want to do. If you want to make potions of healing, then you make those potions. Study how to make them and then just do it.”
“Says the guy who can’t thieve to say his life,” I mutter to his statements with my own smirk.
“I could if I really wanted to,” he says straightening his spine and pulling his shoulders back all while raising his chin and nose toward the sky. “I just don’t want to. I would much rather practice my bow. Which I have been doing since I was nine.”
“Wait, how old are you?” Kahetia asks, finally putting in her two coins to the conversation.
“I’m twenty-nine years old,” Grady answered with a soft spoken smile to the cat lady. Even I turn around shocked by that statement. I look the man up and down with a gaping mouth.
“You are almost thirty years old?” I ask.
“Will be thirty come the next First Sun,” he says with a proud smile. In five months this man will be two years older than myself. My birthday will come at the next Harvest Moon. I just turned twenty-eight last month. I look older than him and he looks to be five years younger than me. The man must have some elf in him somewhere. Elves are known to look younger than they really are.
With a huff, I turn back around to keep hacking at the vines to clear a path. Grady chuckles and turns his attention back to Ryneld. “As I was saying, if you really want to make those potions and be the greatest mage, then you do just that. Whodal will notice your efforts and reward you. I’m sure of it.”
The dog man gives a soft smile and looks up at Grady. “Thank you, my friend. You are the kind of people who give Jerensi-a a good name.”
“Well, I am not from here. I am an immigrant just like you.”
Ryneld lets out a laugh and nods, “Then no wonder you are so nice. You are not from here.”
“I may not be from here, but I have lived here most of my life. My father moved us here when I was eight after we lost my mother,” he begins to explain. I can already feel my headache growing from how much this man is talking. Wait, did he just say he lost his mother? Well, that’s one thing we have in common. Before I could question, the man continued his talk. “She died to a mercenary,” I feel a sharp pain go through my heart, like one of his arrows. He must hate me just because I am a mercenary. I didn’t kill his mother, though. He wouldn’t hold hatred against me right? “Of course, my father being the king of thieves in Breetanya that would cause any target to be on the backs of his family. The mercenary killed my mother, hoping to break my father. Instead, we took a ship and moved over here to Jerensi-a. Now, I am here!” He ended his tale with a bright smile, as if his past didn’t bother him or bring him down at all. His mother was killed by a mercenary, yet he worked to better himself and move on from his past. Completely opposite of myself. Then again, I did lose my whole village to this man and his dragon.
“I’m sorry you guys don’t have your families anymore, but for me I would be grateful to not have my parents,” Kahetia started. Moogar dammit, was this going to be the journey of backstories? Sooner or later they will ask for my full story. I don’t do backstories to random strangers. Grady was the only exception.
As I push some limbs to the side so the group could pass, Kahetia continues. “My mother is very much alive and works up at the mage’s college. Ryneld you probably had her as a mentor.”
“What was her name?” He asks his ears perking up at the thought of knowing someone from his past.
“Silan Paji,” She answers looking over to the dog, waiting for his reaction.
His brown eyes seem to shine and his smile grows on his muzzle. The two animals go past the limb and I let it fall back and whack Grady in the body. He yelps and almost falls off his horse. I can’t help but chuckle as his hands feverishly try to push the leaves away from him. Once through, he gives me a look of disbelief but then his smile returns.
“Oh, yeah! I remember Madam Paji! Wait, you are her daughter? She is one of the best alchemist I have ever seen. She could make potions of regeneration with ease and hardly any concentration,” Ryneld continues his conversation with Kahetia. The cat girl groans and rolls her eyes, obviously disgusted in the fact he praises her mother like he is.
“Oh, believe, I have heard this all too many times before. Madam Paji is the best alchemist in Jerensi-a! Madam Paji has to be the champion of Whodal! Madam Paji, Madam Paji, Madam Paji. I am so sick of hearing about my mother,” she hissed, her claws extending through her leather gloves. I move past her and back to my spot at the head of the group. Seems that this is backstory journey.
Ryneld side steps from the Felidal with a look of surprise. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” The dog’s ears drop and his tail lowers between his legs. He looks away from her and toward the darker parts of the forest. Never mind, he just looks at the forest because the entire place is dark.
“No,” Kahetia says with a whisper as she places her paw on his shoulder. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It goes back to the history of my people.” Ryneld nods with understanding, since he too goes against his species background and stereotype. “My mother keeps wanting me to give up thievery and go into alchemy. She always say, ‘our family didn’t come to this country to let it be ruined by the name of a thief!’ But that is horse shite. The Pajis came here to start a business. They felt that Jerensi-a had a desperate need for Alchemist and potions.”
She isn’t wrong. Humans were pretty reckless and often needed potions to heal themselves or to give them strength in battle. Though many humans tried, none of them were great at alchemy and sorcery like the Felidals or the elves. During the war, the High King offered large sums of gold rounds to any non-human willing to help his army defeat the Adder Fang. Having potions of strength or speed gave the soldiers much needed aid during battle. Not only that, but Silan’s have powerful conjuration magic. The snow elves would often summon large elemental creatures to attack the enemy if they were too ever invade or attack when the soldiers were not ready to battle. Forhilans offered their beast as aid as well. Forest elves are great at taming beast. I guess growing up in the forest does help a person learn how the beast works and what they think. So, the Forhilans would offer bring their large bears, wolves and birds of prey. The raw power of the bears over took the Adder Fang with ease and the birds provided aerial view for scouting out enemy lines. Dreemurs, well don’t get me started on them. Dark elves are known to be just that during war. Dark. There destruction spells and torture spells would help the High King’s army get information out of an Adder Fang soldier they captured. Honestly, I am surprised that the Fang lasted as long as they did. I guess pure human stubbornness and strength carried them as far as they did.
“The Pajis wanted to get rich quick by doing what they do best. Make potions with their talent in alchemy and botany. Needless to say, that didn’t happen. The family came too late after the war and since then the Paji’s have been in poverty for years.” Kahetia continues her story as we stop to take a break. We have been walking for three hours now, maybe later.
Time in the woods is weird and seems to go by slower than it really does. Grady jumps off Ghirsham and ties the horse to a tree before he joins us in a small circle. It’s better to sit in a circle rather than off each to their own. If we were each meters apart from one another it would make it easier for a beast to take us and drag us off for their meal. I reach into my bag and pull out an apple. The crunch echoes around us as I bite into it and the sweet juice trickles down my chin. Grady sees the apple and gives a pleading look to me. With a groan, I toss an apple to him. He catches it after stumbling with it for a few seconds. Ryneld pulls out wrapped up piece of beef and hands a bite to Kahetia. She takes it in her paw, but doesn’t bite into it just yet. She hasn’t finished her story it seems.
“I wasn’t going to live in poverty for the rest of my life. I saw how much my parents struggled and suffered. After knowing how much they continued to struggle, I made a decision not to live that life. I grabbed my bag and gloves and at the age of fifteen, I went off into the world and started to make a name for myself as a thief,” now she took a bite into the meat, done and glad with how she told her story. Grady and Ryneld nod, accepting the story of the Felidal woman.
“Michael, why don’t you tell them your backstory?” Grady asks looking over to me as I chew away on my apple. I stop mid-chew and look up at the small group. Their eyes are all me, again! How many times are these three going to look at me like they expect me to do something? I swallow my apple bite and lick my lips.
“Sorry, I don’t do backstories,” I take another bite and look at the map I had pulled out while Kahetia finished her story.
Grady scoffs and I feel his gaze burning at my skull. “You told me a little bit about yourself when we first met.”
“I told you my name and how I lost my home. The rest was because you were following me and wouldn’t leave me alone,” I don’t look up from the map. I don’t need to because I can feel what Grady is doing. He leans back against a tree. He is about to ask another question, hinted by the fact he takes a sharp breath.
The breath turns into a yelp when the tree moves its roots out from under the man. Ryneld jumps to his feet and pulls a small wooden wand from his belt. Kahetia pulls out her daggers and hisses at the tree. The tree moves its roots and move to put them back down. Grady scrambles trying to get out from under it before it smashes him. The root comes down with a loud thud right after I grab the man and pull him out of the indent in the earth where the root was.
“What the bloody hell?” Grady yells as Ghirsham whinnies from the tree it is tied too. Grady nods a thanks to me and then runs over to untie his horse. Ghirsham nickers, nuzzling its head to the boy. The trees around us all pull their roots from their spots in the earth. I pull my sword off my back and shove the map back into my bag. The four of us gather in a circle, back to back with Grady a top of Ghirsham. The trees force us together in the center of their circle. The limbs of the trees move like arms and lower themselves toward us.
The Shermine Woods were known for being enchanted but this was insane. No one had ever heard of the trees coming to life to attack any travelers. The only stories were the beast and monsters that inhabited these woods. Weharla’s beast hunted and preyed on any mortal that passed through. Was this the work of the Aaxeics herself?
My internal question is answered when I hear a low cackle come from the limbs of the trees followed by the caw of a crow. Sitting on one of the limbs of the trees is a pale skinned woman with hair as black as the midnight sky. A dark purple dress adorned her body. The hems of the dress were frayed and torn and the sleeves went down to her wrist and ended with a point. Her eyes were a dark blue and they glistened like stars, but don’t get my words mixed up. There was no denying this was the Aaexic herself. If her looks didn’t give it away, the symbol of the Aaxeics rested around her neck. A silver circle and in the middle of the circle was a crescent moon.
She held on to the trees trunk and smirked down at me, “Hello, Michael. Pleasure to see you in my woods.”
