Fenrir kept pace with the wagons. The caravan's people were very welcoming, which the boy would normally have found suspicious. However, the expensive Telling Orb had dispelled any suspicions about his character, and the merchants and guards all had surprisingly bright souls, showing their naturally good disposition. Fenrir could tell that the nobles in the carriage also had relatively bright souls, which surprised him due to the murderous atmosphere that the boy assumed all courts had.

The caravan had accepted Fenrir due to the kind personalities of the travelers, and all of his new companions agreed that as long as the boy was not too much of a hindrance, he did not have to offer any form of payment. However, Fenrir despised the idea of only taking from these kind travelers and giving nothing in return. So, he secretly supplied the horses and guards with pure energy. For a mortal, manipulating pure energy would generally be impossible without the cooperation of a spirit, and even then the caster would have to gain the consent of anyone who they wished to strengthen. Luckily, Fenrir was not a mortal.

Of course, the guards noticed an increase in their stamina, but they were aware of the prerequisites for such a spell. It did not seem to be a threat, so they mostly dismissed it, but they did keep note of the fact. After a short discussion, the captain decided that the novelty of a new companion had given them a spike of energy, which would eventually fade.

The three suns neared the horizon. The boy made sure his hood was securely in place, with the shadows of the cowl covering his hair and eyes. Then, he chantlessly cast some magic so that the darkness would always just barely cover his hair and eyes, as long as the hood was on. He considered accomplishing the task by manipulating the laws of the world, but that would give his position away if another god happened to be in the world at that moment; though the world's creator was dead, that did not make it impossible for other gods to pass through the world.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

The caravan searched for a good place to spend the night and decided upon a mid-sized clearing around half a mile from the road. The captain had glanced strangely at Fenrir when the boy had pointed it out, but did not question it; he was already quite certain that the boy was something like an elf or a fairy, or perhaps a subspecies of the forest-dwelling races. While he would not have as much Fae blood as his more pure-blooded counterparts, it would still be able to explain the discovery of the clearing; any race with even a drop of Fae blood would feel at home in the forest, as well as having higher night vision and other senses than humans. Although, they would not have as much stamina and strength as humans. In fact, strength and stamina were the human race's best points; while dwarves had them as well, the short race's fighting capability was not as strong due to body structure, and the only race that truly exceeded the humans in strength and endurance along with fighting capability was the demons. However, demons could not use magic, a fact that the humans used to their great advantage; while humans were not nearly as talented in magic as the descendants of the Fae, they were definitely more so than the demons.

The boy was even able to nimbly maneuver the bulky wagons and carriage through the woods.

As the guards and merchants set about putting up tents and starting a small campfire, the boy ran off to hunt, seemingly enthusiastic to be of help.

The guard captain smiled; he felt that Fenrir's actions were almost identical to that of a child eager to please his parents. Once more, he was reminded of his son.