The next morning came too soon for SJ. When Zigferd knocked on her door, she just wanted to roll over and go back to sleep.

“At last,” Dave said.

“Morning,” SJ replied through sleep-filled eyes.

“I am glad Zigferd came and woke you. I was going to wake you myself. Breakfast is ready, and you need to get on the road again if you will make the next stopover before nightfall.”

“I get the hint,” SJ groaned as she stood, stretching. The bed had been so comfortable that she fell asleep within moments as soon as her head touched the pillow. Washing, she sorted herself out and left for the inn’s common room.

On the table nearest the kitchen sat a mound of freshly baked rolls and some sliced roasted hogling, with cheeses, honey, jam, and a pot of freshly churned butter. The layout reminded SJ of the European breakfasts she had eaten on holiday. Salaril walked from the kitchen smiling, seeing SJ. Zigferd and Cristy were already seated, stuffing their faces with the fresh rolls. “Morning,” SJ said as she took a seat.

“Can I get you anything?” Salaril asked.

“Do you have coffee?”

“We do,” Salaril replied, returning to the kitchen.

Zigferd and Cristy were drinking milk, and Cristy had a bright milk moustache on her upper lip. Coughing politely, SJ pointed at her lip. Cristy looked at SJ, frowning. Realising what SJ meant, she wiped her mouth on her sleeve. SJ rolled her eyes.

Salaril brought a steaming mug out for SJ. The smell of coffee flooded her nostrils, immediately awakening her dull mind. Blowing the steam from the surface, she took a sip. The coffee had a pleasant, nutty taste, and it didn’t take her long to ask for another.

“Let’s get going,” Zigferd said as SJ finished her breakfast. “We have a long journey today and don’t want to be caught short of the next stopover.”

“Why?” Cristy asked.

“There are a couple of unpleasant tribes in the area we will be in tonight. It is not as peaceful as here in Cuopi,” Zigferd replied.

They stood to leave, wishing Salaril farewell. Outside, Alef was already sitting in the driver’s seat. Cristy climbed on top and sat next to him. Climbing into the carriage, Zigferd called goodbye to Jolathan, standing in the stable entrance, and they moved off. Not long after the coach had set off, SJ fell asleep again. The rolling motion of the coach on top of her full stomach from breakfast took her back into slumber.

“Wake up, SJ,” Dave said.

‘Do I have to?’ SJ thought.

“If you want to witness your first territory transition, then yes.”

Shifting and yawning, SJ opened her eyes.

“You seemed to sleep well,” Zigferd said, looking at her.

“Sorry. I was still tired,” SJ apologised.

“I just wish I could sleep as easily as you.”

Last night was so relaxing for SJ. Even though she had returned to Farleck every night, being away from Killic had eased her paranoia, and with no overhanging threat, her mind had allowed her to settle easily.

“Where are we?” SJ asked.

“It’s just after noon, so about halfway to Mollic,” Zigferd said.

Mollic was their next stop. Zigferd had described it as a small fort rather than a hamlet or village. Peering out of the coach’s window, SJ could see ahead towards the darkening skies. Opening her map, she checked her display, seeing they were approaching the next territory’s border. Clouds appeared to be gathered at the border, and Alice warned her to expect rain. As they approached the border, the terrain changed. The luscious countryside they were travelling through darkened, the greens becoming deeper, losing the vibrancy of Killic’s territory. SJ’s display triggered.

You have entered the territory of Amashari. Level bounds are 10-20. Please confirm your eligibility.

‘What does that mean?’ SJ asked Dave.

“It is just a warning for those under level 10,” Dave replied. “You are 19, so staying on the main route should be fine. However, with these system changes, I can’t guarantee that.”

‘That’s concerning,’ SJ replied.

The rain began as they crossed the border, grey clouds swirling in the sky. A few minutes later, Cristy swung herself down through the coach window, shaking her head as she did.

“Cristy,” SJ said, holding her hand before her face to stop the spray from her fur-covered head.

Zigferd sat there holding a now-soaked piece of parchment, scowling at Cristy.

“Sorry,” Cristy replied, her ears drooping, sitting beside SJ.

Zigferd tutted, returning to his reading.

The rain outside wasn’t a downpour, but it was constant. Now that they had passed the border, the weather difference in the territory was instantaneous. SJ noticed that the temperature had dropped, and as they glanced out the window, they saw that the forest surrounding them had transformed into a rainforest. The humidity increasing exponentially. The broad-leafed trees that made up the vegetation reminded SJ of palm fronds. As they moved along, the coach’s wheels clattered on the path they must have been stone. It was still comfortable, the coach’s suspension absorbing any impact.

“Any more thoughts on the class you want to become yet, Cristy?” SJ asked.

“I love the druid details Alice has told me, but she said I could not continue learning to use a bow. I have learned so much from Darren over the past few months that Ranger class may be a better option.” Cristy said.

“Beast Warden,” Zigferd said.

SJ and Cristy turned to look at him. “What?” SJ asked.

“Cristy should be a Beast Warden,” Zigferd replied, looking up from the parchments.

“I have not heard of the class?” SJ said, confused.

“Now that is an interesting concept,” Dave said. “Beast Wardens are a historical class. I know there have been none for thousands of years.”

‘Why?’ SJ thought.

“The class was very secretive in its origins, and my understanding from the databases I have access to and the history I know the knowledge was lost. Remember, once you have chosen a class, there is no going back. Even for an Amatherean, it is a one-way ticket. Their choice is permanent.”

“Beast Warden. They are a class that would suit Cristy. They are a cross between a ranger and a druid. Because of their affinity to beasts, they gain bonuses from familiars and can heal them, as per druids. Yet, can still use bows,” Zigferd said.

Cristy got excited at the possibility. “That sounds amazing. How do I become one?”

Zigferd looked at Cristy for several moments before responding. “The Beast Wardens originated from within the lycanthrope clans thousands of years ago. Many thought the class had died out, but it has been kept alive by dedicated historians of the lycanthrope lineage.”

“Holy googolplexes,” Dave said. “If it is true that Beast Wardens still exist, this will be a first for the system.”

“How does Cristy become one?” SJ asked.

“That’s the hard part. The lycanthrope clan structures are distinct and separated into beliefs. I believe there may be a representative of the Carlarti clan in Asterfal. It has been some years since I dealt with the Carlarti clan, but they would be the ones to speak to. They follow the old ways and believe in the direct relationship between beasts and beings.”

Every day, SJ was learning something new about the depth and lore of Amathera.

“I hope we can,” Cristy said, grinning. “That class sounds perfect.”

“It is not as straightforward as just applying. As I say, it is a very secretive clan, and they usually will only allow lycanthropes to even be considered,” Zigferd said.

“I hope not. It sounds perfect,” Cristy said.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“When we reach Asterfal, I will see if I can contact them,” Zigferd said.

Cristy sat with a grin at the news of the Beast Warden class.

As the coach continued its journey into Amashari, the terrain outside changed. The thick jungle-style forests opened into marshland, and the open areas were covered in a dense mist that rolled across the land. Rain still fell, and the humidity remained high. The inside of the coach felt sticky and unpleasant.

“My dress is clinging to me,” SJ said, shifting in her seat and pulling it from where it clung to her. Zigferd was sat with beads of sweat on his brow, and Cristy’s fur looked damp. “Is it always like this?”

“Yes. Amashari is a wetland. It rains here for most of the year. They have a few days without rain, but they are rare,” Zigferd replied.

Looking out of the window, the mist made it difficult to see anything beyond thirty feet from the coach. SJ was surprised at how fast Alef was still driving the horses. The scenery didn’t change as they journeyed towards the fort. SJ’s map had hardly opened apart from a narrow band where the fog of war had cleared. She had spotted paths leading off the main track they were on but did not know where they were headed.

“You mentioned there are tribes here that aren’t very nice?” SJ asked.

Zigferd was lying back, his head resting on the cushioned interior. Opening his eyes, he looked at SJ. “Two main ones in this area. Lizards and Swarmers. Lizards are a draconian tribe that sees outsiders as a threat to their livelihood. Swarmers are a goblin tribe that is very feral and often attacks the fort.”

“Who is the fort controlled by?” Cristy asked.

“The ent council controls it. They hold the main territory and ensure the primary routes remain clear. Going off the prime routes isn’t advisable unless you are looking for trouble. The marshes are dangerous. It’s not just the Lizards and Swarmers. Snakes, gators, wisps, and many other creatures frequent them.”

“Gators?” SJ asked, surprised.

“Yes. Gators are monstrous lizards in the western part of the territory. This narrow area we transition here is not as feral,” Zigferd replied, closing his eyes again.

“What do you mean by narrow?” SJ asked.

“The territory stretches across the narrowest path between Killic and Asterfal. There are routes, but they add six days to the journey to remain in lower-level territories.” Zigferd said.

SJ had removed her tailoring gear from her inventory and was working on a pair of trousers. It was awkward in the coach with its swaying movement, but her perk ensured that her stitching remained as it should, even if much slower than when stationary. At least it passed the time. Cristy was sitting, reading a book that Alice had given her. Cristy kept asking SJ to confirm certain words as her reading and writing were still developing. The tutor she had been seeing at the orphanage had been doing a fantastic job with her.

‘When the boundary expanded, did it not move north?’ SJ thought, asking Dave.

“The boundary didn’t expand exactly. It just increased the level aspects. It could eventually cover the south if it kept expanding the territory where Killic lies. The system would never allow that to happen. The borders are open, not amended. Territory separation remains the same. Remember, I am still trying to accept it myself.”

The hairs suddenly shot up on the back of SJ’s neck. Looking out of the window, she knew something wasn’t right. Leaning out of the window, she stared into the swirling mists. She couldn’t see anything obvious, and the coach was moving at a decent pace.

“Alef. Is everything alright up there?” SJ called.

“Fine. Why do you ask?” Alef called back.

“Just a feeling,” she called.

Zigferd had sat up after SJ called Alef. “What’s wrong?”

“Not sure. Something doesn’t feel right,” SJ said.

‘Dave?’ SJ asked.

“Sights limited like yours. I can’t see anything in this mist, even from above,” Dave replied.

SJ was sure someone was watching them as they continued through the marshland. The ground rose on an incline, and as it did, they slowly moved above the height of the mists as they reached a plateau. It was the first time they could see further than a few feet in hours. Looking out of both sides of the coach, SJ could still see nothing that may be a threat.

“How much further, Alef?” Zigferd called.

“An hour, two most,” Alef called.

The sensation didn’t lessen as they continued their journey towards the fort. SJ was sure that something was going to happen at any moment. Unable to stop looking around for the remainder of the trip.

“Fort's up ahead,” Alef called.

SJ leaned out of the window and looked ahead. After the plateau, they had dropped back down into the mist and eventually rose again as they neared the fort’s location. The structure SJ could see ahead wasn’t what SJ had expected. At the top of a rise, there was the fort. It was the perfect location for a fort, giving the occupants visibility around the marshes.

The fort had the strangest appearance. It was a wooden structure, and as SJ looked at it from a distance, it appeared to change. The wood shimmered, and as the coach drew near, SJ watched in amazement as a doorway that had not been visible appeared in the structure. There seemed to be no metal or stone involved, and the gate swung open, allowing the coach to path beneath its twenty-foot high walls constructed out of massive tree trunks. As soon as they passed through the gate, it closed again behind them and vanished into the walls’ wooden structure.

Six tall ents stood in a courtyard area. All six wore a combination of leather and wooden armour, carrying large pavise shields, with either a longsword, broadsword or spear.

“Cartic,” Alef said as the coach came to a stop.

“Alef,” Cartic, the tallest of the ents, replied. He stood taller than Zigferd.

SJ opened the coach door and climbed down, flipping the steps over, Cristy following close behind. Having met ents in Killic, none had looked as solid or formidable as the six standing in the courtyard. The courtyard was only sixty feet square, with various buildings that appeared to meld into the fort’s walls.

Zigferd climbed down. “Cartic,” he said, nodding to the tall ent, “Is Eilian still here?”

“Zigferd. Welcome. Yes, Eilian still resides over the fort. Although she is hoping to return home soon.”

“Yourself?”

“I have two more cycles,” Cartic replied.

The rain still fell, and Cartic showed them to a building while Alef untacked the horses and led them to a low-roofed stable.

Entering the building, SJ had been expecting an inn or similar, but instead, it looked more like a barracks room. Along the rear wall, there was a row of bunk beds, a small bar with a few tables, and an open kitchen.

“Please make yourselves at home. I will ask Vurtop to come and prepare you some food,” Cartic said.

“Thank you,” Zigferd replied.

As Cartic left them, SJ said, “This isn’t what I expected.”

“It’s dry and all we need for the evening,” Zigferd replied.

After the hospitality at Cuopi, the fort was drab and quiet. No others were in the small barracks block, and Zigferd walked to the kitchen area and lit a small burner, placing water on it to boil.

Cristy walked to one of the bunks at the far end and climbed onto the top, flopping down. Alef joined them a while later, walking in and wearing a long poncho he had been wearing for the journey ever since they crossed the border. Standing in the doorway, he removed it, leaving a puddle of water behind where he had been standing.

That was when SJ noticed the water seemed to be absorbed. The wooden floor looked smooth and polished, which would typically mean that you would expect the water to pool, but it soaked away in moments.

SJ still felt watched. “Why do I feel like we are being watched, and what is with the fort?”

Zigferd looked at SJ from where he was making drinks. “The fort is living.” His simple response filled SJ with more questions, and Cristy responded before SJ did.

“What do you mean, living?” Cristy asked, sitting up, looking confused.

“Ents are one with nature, and they can manipulate and communicate with anything wooden. You saw the gate appear and then close again as we entered. The whole fort is alive. Even here now, you stand on a living being.”

SJ looked down at the floor. The floorboards looked pristine, like any other she had seen before. The walls were smooth, and the room had two large windows that looked out into the courtyard. Looking outside, she stared at the inside of the fort. Now and then, she thought she could see the walls move ever so slightly.

Alef walked up beside SJ. “I can see you are concerned. The entish folk do not harm those who hold good standing. They are peace-loving, although Cartic and his team are fierce warriors.”

A slender ent entered the building wearing green-mottled robes. Smiling at them, she said, “Zigferd. It’s so nice to see you again.”

“Eilian. Greetings. It has been a while. Last time I passed through, you were dealing with the Swarmers.”

“We usually are,” Eilian said. “Alef. Was the journey clear?”

“It was Eilian. Thanks to your sentries. I took the right path at the fork after their warning,” Alef said.

“Sentries? Warning?” SJ asked, shocked.

“This must be your first time here,” Eilian said, turning to SJ.

“Yes,” SJ said.

“Welcome to Fort Mollic. We don’t have the luxuries of a normal inn, but the food is good, and the fort is safe,” Eilian said.

Sitting at a table, Zigferd chatted to Eilian. It wasn’t long after that another ent entered and began preparing food. SJ felt amazed as she listened to the conversation between Zigferd and Eilian. The Swarmers had been more brazen recently and had attempted to attack the fort only two nights ago. It was, by all accounts, a common occurrence. The guards who stayed in the fort only comprised a dozen ents, and they rarely had to get involved. The fort protected itself.

SJ asked Alef about the sentries, and he informed her that as they neared the fort, the route was over-watched by entals. Entals were the beings that constructed the fort. It was a strange concept to understand, as they weren’t sentient beings but lived as one with the ents, providing them with shelter or anything else they required. They were the building blocks of the ent nations.

There was still so much to learn about the races of Amathera. Killic’s diversity was one thing, but the differences became apparent in race-specific areas.

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