The bark under Stan's hand felt dry and brittle, cracking under the slightest pressure. The normally rich brown hue of the tree trunk was faded, nearly gray, hinting at the toll the prolonged drought had taken. As he walked deeper into the forest, the underbrush crunched underfoot, every leaf and twig deprived of their usual liveliness.
The air was thick and still, lacking its refreshing coolness and the earthy scent of thriving woodland. Instead, a dusty, parched smell pervaded, as if the forest was silently pleading for relief. The canopy overhead, once a thick blanket, was now sparse. Sunlight, which would typically play hide and seek between the leaves, now streamed in unobstructed, illuminating the widespread withering.
Everywhere he looked, evidence of the forest's suffering was apparent. Leaves, prematurely shriveled and browned, littered the ground. The usually chirping birds and rustling wildlife were conspicuously muted, replaced by an unsettling silence. Streams and brooks that had once gurgled with life were reduced to mere trickles, their beds lined with cracked mud and stranded stones.
Young saplings, which would typically be reaching skyward with youthful vigor, stood stunted and drooping. Some older trees displayed deep cracks in their bark as if the very life had been sucked out of them. Ferns and undergrowth plants lay flattened, their once-lush fronds now crisp and curled.
Stan's heart ached as he took in the sight around him.
Grigio whined from the side, and Stan placed one of his big hands on top of the hound’s head.
“I felt it too,” Stan muttered with a weary tone. “This forest is dying. The water, however, should be reaching it from below. Amorium’s land is too fertile for a forest to die.”
Grigio stared at Stan, just listening to the old man’s words as the gigantic Elf moved around, checking on the rest of the plants. He didn’t really need to, honestly. He had enough skills that he hadn’t used in decades to survey this forest and pretty much the rest of the entire region in a snap of a finger.
“Should I—no. I shall not interfere,” Stan muttered.
He still remembered what had happened to his life and all his dear ones when he had last decided that he was needed, that he was supposed to not stay still.
The old man sighed and hunched forward, looking smaller than usual. He crouched, looking at his sole companion with a saddened expression.
“The more we interfere, Grigio, the more chaos we create. I can’t do anything here.”
...
“He’s okay,” Tiberius said, sitting at the ‘head’ of the circle of ex-[Soldiers] in the hidden depths of the Pratus. He looked tired and uncomfortable, but there was an ironed smile on his face. “He’s been joking around, and he says people have been bringing him so much food he started training with his sword in the jail cell when no one’s watching.”
“How did he bring the sword in there? Didn’t they check him?” Someone asked.
“Probably. But it’s Joey—he has his ways.”
“That stupid Human,” Quintus growled, “he should have told us he was going to destroy the [Mayor]’s door and get himself arrested. We could have done something.”
“Get arrested with him?” Tiberius suggested.
“Shut up,” Quintus snapped.
“You shut up,” Tiberius smiled subtly.
Stan was outside the circle of sitting people, but his hearing could pick up the entire conversation without a problem. He hadn’t wanted to visit Joey in fear he would have... done something.
“Well, it’s been two weeks. Do you think he’s going to last four months without losing it?” A plump homeless man asked.
“Yeah, he’s been coordinating things with Clodia and Camilla in his absence. He’s telling them what to do in order to get the whole operation running once he’s out. He’s promised us several times that more debts were going to get paid off, too.”
Everyone seemed to cheer up at the mention of that—everyone but the distant Stan, who suddenly tightened his fist so hard that the grass around him started to vibrate.
Grigio growled, and that brought the old man back from the dark thoughts that had been brewing in his mind.
“I know; sorry,” Stan apologized to the massive dog.
He’s in prison and still only thinks of others, the giant Elf thought, looking up at the giant statue that shielded him from the wicked sunrays of the midday sun. Just like you.
“It’s fucking unfair, is what it is,” Quintus barked so loudly that every other homeless person picked it up without a problem. “He’s there, and he’s doing what? He’s worrying about those outside, practicing and practicing. Why should we put up with this? Isn’t there anything we can do?”
“Get arrested,” Tiberius suggested with a sigh. “Joey’s fine. He said it himself. He’s practicing magic, and he said he’s training too. Did you see that weird metal bar he was using when we got there?”
“Wait, what did he say it’s called?” Someone asked.
“Stupid bell?” Quintus offered.
“Dumbbell,” Tiberius scoffed. “And the [Captain] agreed to expand his cell to include the others after Joey had offered to pay an extra fine. He has plenty of space now... and a bed.”
“Do you think Joey could whack Drusillus?” Quintus offered.
Everyone started arguing immediately.
“What?! Drusillus is a Named Adventurer!”
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Joey is a Joey Adventurer,” Quintus rebuked. “They say he killed a tremendously strong monster in the Dungeon!”
“Quintus, the [Captain] was a [Captain] in the military, then a Named Adventurer, then this. Do you think Joey would even stand a chance?”
“I’d like to see Drusillus get his ears folded; I’ll tell you that,” Quintus replied.
Stan felt his heart beat faster at hearing these conversations—they reminded him of things he heard many years prior.
A few words resounded in Stan’s ears.
Father, I shall commit to this wedding. No matter your protests, this will be for the sake of our people. War has torn and ravaged our land—we can’t allow it anymore. We must sacrifice ourselves for our citizens to prosper. No matter the outcome, Father. We are in the service of our people—we do not serve ourselves.
...
Stan, unlike his usual self, was standing in front of the big fountain of the Pratus, feeling the Mana that gently moved the water-based Enchantments through the pipes and created a beautiful waterwork.
His hand was on Grigio’s head as he, pensive, reflected on his current turmoil.
There’s nothing I can do... There’s nothing I can do without creating a mess. If I implicate myself...
Stan’s thoughts went astray for the first time in many years. He had been distraught before, despaired. But this... these were the kind of thoughts he hadn’t had in a long time.
Joey. But he’s a Human. He cannot... he is not...
No. Humans are...
He closed his eyes, swallowing and trying to move his aura to quench his emotions.
His left hand rested on the fence of the fountain, the cold metal feeling refreshing at the touch against his blazing skin. Blood was pumping through his veins, his entire being aching to do something.
That’s when he felt Grigio shift away from him, and the dog’s long tail suddenly moved extremely fast, whipping against his legs as the four-legged animal pounced away.
Stan turned his head, worrying that his mood had been affecting the dog through his skills. And he was about to shout at it when his eyes went wide.
“Hi, Grigio! It’s been a while, you big, furry thing!”
Grigio was jumping up and down around a strikingly beautiful woman with dark hair and dark blue eyes. She pushed the dog back and forth as it kept jumping like an excited pup.
Stan stood there, paralyzed.
“Hey, Stan,” the woman who had given him and Grigio their names smiled warmly at the man. “How are you doing?”
“Penelope?”
...
Stan felt extremely awkward perusing the establishments in Amorium for any kind of refreshments, be it food or drinks. But Penelope didn’t hear reason—she basically dragged him to a restaurant and asked for food for all of them, including Grigio.
The huge dog rested beside the woman’s chair, who looked sweetly at the animal.
“You are looking well, Stan,” the Human said.
“You too. I can sense your new aura,” the giant Elf said with a smile on his face.
“Oh, it’s nothing much for now. I didn’t know one could use it to stabilize wounds, though. My travels have been... hectic. Carilia has more battlefields than I had imagined. I was happy to help there.”
“Many lives must have been saved,” Stan nodded at the [Doctor].
“Never enough,” Penelope shook her head somberly as she nursed her drink. “Never enough.”
They scrutinized each other for a few moments before Stan felt compelled to ask some questions.
“Penelope... I have to thank you for what you did. When we first met, I—I wasn’t myself.”
“We all need a pick-me-up friend sometimes...” she trailed off, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Stan, where I come from, it’s a rule to do some small talk before getting to business. However, I hope you don’t mind my rudeness. I came back for a reason.”
“Oh...” Stan’s mind reeled for a while. “You must have heard something about the [Necromancers]? Are you here for that?”
Penelope shook her head.
“I know you said the Dryads are not to be trifled with, but my travels brought me close to them. I saved many from some vascular diseases they were experiencing. That’s what I specialized in, you know? But, listen, the—”
“You spoke to the [High Priestess],” Stan straightened up on his chair.
“I did,” Penelope admitted.
“And she read something from your life.”
“She did," she added.
“That’s why you are back,” Stan muttered.
“Yes, that’s why I’m back,” Penelope looked uncomfortable but pushed through, “my parents... The [High Priestess] said I would meet my parents again if I revisited my first great encounter. I can’t think of anyone else, Stan.”
“Child,” Stan sighed, “the Dryads are wicked, but they are not ungrateful. If you helped them, do believe the [High Priestess] told you the truth. But their prophecies and readings are always twisted. Chances are that your parents are not here. I have not seen any other Humans here other than... a man younger than you. His name is Joey Luciani. I’m sorry.”
Penelope nodded with pursed lips.
“Maybe I need to talk to this guy, then. Joey Luciani, you said? Would you mind introducing me to him? Also, do you happen to know anything about what’s going down in Kome?”
Stan hesitated, “Joey Luciani has currently been incarcerated for... silly reasons. Mostly because he’s a Human. You should be careful about where you go, Penelope. The sentiment toward Humans in Amorium is not so kind—especially now.”
“Whatever,” the woman waved her hand, “I’ve been in war-torn countries before I even came here, Stan. I’m not afraid of getting mugged. Why is this guy in prison? Also, Luciani? Do you know if he’s Italian?”
Stan shook his head.
“I don’t know,” Stan admitted. “He said he’s from very far away. He never said from where.”
Penelope went still at that, her eyes now blazing.
Stan knew that the collected [Doctor] in front of him had a blazing side to her character; it was the same fire that had brought him back from the brink of complete despair.
Penelope had been his benefactor. A random Human who had found him wallowing in the slums took him in and fed and clothed him without asking for anything in return. He had shouted at her in anger, but Penelope hadn’t flinched one bit as she cleaned and dressed his wounds with the kind of skills he had never witnessed before, not even in his past life.
“Get him out,” Penelope suddenly said.
“Excuse me?” Stan frowned.
“You heard me. Get him out.”
“Penelope, you don’t understand, it’s—”
“Stan, it’s been, what, five, six years? You are doing well. It’s time for you to get back on track. Get-him-out. If my mother is here and the [High Priestess] is right, this Human is clearly connected with her.”
“Penelope, I can’t do anything to help you find both your parents; I don’t know what...”
“I didn’t say both. My father can rot in a ditch, that selfish bastard. If my mother is here, I need to get to her, though. My mother was dead, Stan. If she’s here... physics doesn’t work as anticipated in different dimensions... she could be alive.”
“The Human—Joey, gets out in four months. I do not meddle with—”
“Stan!” Penelope slammed her fist on the table. “I didn’t listen to you back then, and I’m not going to listen to you now. You weren’t worthless when I met you, when you told me your story in a fit of anger, thinking it was going to move me to pity. You fucked up. Own up to it already. You have rested long enough. I need this Human. He might know something about Kome—the Dryads hinted at things, but that weird shadow veil is still covering the continent, and no one can cross it without dying.
“There’s an entire continent separated from the rest of the world,” Penelope continued, “Things are moving around—strange things are happening. And I know who you are. You need to get your ass up. Now, is this Joey a good person?”
“Yes.”
“Is he jailed for the wrong reasons?” She inquired.
“Yes.”
“Good. Get him out. I need to go now, but I’ll be back in a month or so. I have a lead on something. Oh, and I heard about the Dungeon. Amorium’s going to be very involved, Stan. Stay safe.”
Without saying another word, Penelope simply stood up, bent to kiss Grigio on his forehead, and smiled at the old man.
“You are better than this. Do it for your son. I know you don’t believe in Heaven, but you don’t want to be ashamed once you two meet again. You are a good man, Stan. Don’t bow down to this injustice.”
That said, Penelope left Stan reeling, still sitting at the table with his dog.