Chapter 3
The Poster
“I thought I’d find you up here this early, Terrill.”
The boy’s youthful tones were muffled, but Terrill still recognized them, remembered them. He turned his head, and his hand shifted on the shingles of the roof he was seated upon. The clanking of the ladder against the house indicated someone was coming up. The rest of the scenery started to fill itself in, with the gray mountains populating the background. Terrill’s eyes were fixated on the ladder, and the grassy fields with gravel walkways stretching between the houses, all the way to the tower where streamers and balloons were tied. His reverie of the scenery was disturbed by the climber reaching the top of the house and plopping down right next to Terrill.
“Atrum,” the young man said, nodding at his friend. The boy smiled, tucking some of his ashen-blond hair back behind his ear. It was tied up due to its length, but wisps of the hair still found their way in front of his face. His darkened eyes glittered with joy while Terrill watched him stare out over their hometown of Hart. “You all set for tonight?”
“I’m the guest of honor! Of course, I am!” Atrum lifted an arm, flexing it like it made him appear stronger. Terrill cracked a chuckle as the rest of the picture was painted, placing him in that moment with sharp clarity. “I’ve been looking forward to this. Who’d have ever thought when I was taken in as a baby that I’d become the Chosen One representing Hart? Do you think I’ll be the one chosen in Sayn?”
“Who knows? The capital usually succeeds in that. You know, all that fame and glory stuff,” Terrill answered. He leaned back, his hands feeling the woodgrain of the shingles and he breathed in the crisp mountain air that he’d known all his life. Seconds after, he felt a poke on his shoulder, wondering if he’d missed something that Atrum had said.
“That why you wanted to be the Chosen One so badly?” The voice was teasing, and Terrill was glad it was. “Nah, I know. You just wanted to pound Golbrucht’s face into the ground and protect the town, just like me.”
To illustrate his point, Atrum pounded a fist in his palm, grinning all the while. Terrill afforded another chuckle at his zealous confidence. “Who wouldn’t? Fear of monster attacks almost year-round, people scared to even venture out of their towns. We’re lucky we’re so isolated and near to the church, but others aren’t so lucky. Defeating Golbrucht would bring a measure of peace, and if someone from Hart did it, then our town would have something to be proud of.”
“Yeah, but we haven’t had a Chosen One from Hart in all the time I’ve been alive. Kind of makes you wonder how they choose them from our pool of candidates as ‘the most skilled’. Nebulous to begin with, though it’s only thanks to you that I’m here.” Atrum let his statement rest at that, emulating Terrill in leaning back against the roof. The two watched the sunrise coming over the mountains, illuminating their tiny town with everyone preparing for the celebrations that would send them off the next morning. “Hey, you heard the rumors?”
“Atrum, there are a lot of rumors.”
“But this one sounds important!” he whined, the pout on his face making him appear more of a child than the eighteen-year-old was. “One of the traveling monks on a pilgrimage said that bandits have been really active lately. Winthrop apparently was targeted the other day, but they drove them off.”
“Bandits usually get more active around this time, what with the festivals and Golbrucht’s imminent demise,” Terrill said. He didn’t like rumors that made people panic when it was just business as usual, for as much a metric as that mattered.
“These seem different is all I’m saying. Supposedly they got a new boss, said to use special powers! Keeps themselves hooded. Spooky, huh?”
“Don’t be dumb,” Terrill said, his finger leaving the roof to flick Atrum across the nose. The boy gasped in surprise. “There’s no such thing, and don’t get distracted. You have time to focus on dumb rumors like that, then you have time for a little more training before we hit the road. You won’t make Sayn’s Chosen One like that.”
“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Guardian. Geez, you’re always so strict, Terrill,” Atrum responded, his face once more forming a pout while he stood. Terrill watched him, shaking his head in mild amusement. “It’s almost like you’re trying to prove how capable you are since you took the post. Hoping to be the Guardian to the true Chosen One this year?”
“Never know. My skills have already been recognized among the Guardians, so all it needs is for the right whisper to reach the right ear! For all we know, it’s my destiny!” Terrill boasted. Atrum aimed a kick at him, but missed as Terrill twisted his body away. The boy almost lost his balance, but righted himself before he could fall off the roof.
The two reached a realm of silence, though the chirping of the birds was heard ever louder, intruding over what was otherwise a moment of peace. It was becoming distracting to Terrill, but not enough for him to miss the words Atrum had said.
“Destiny, huh?” he muttered, the whisper catching on the wind. “I do sometimes feel like my destiny is out there, always attached to being the Chosen One. A part of me that is calling out, beckoning me. Makes me wonder what I’ll find.”
“You just sound hungry.” Terrill’s voice wasn’t any louder, even with the noises intruding on all his thoughts.
“Hey…serio…”
“Ha ha ha!”
“Terrill…Atrum…there…are…!”
BANG!
The sudden sound jarred Terrill awake, yanking him from the dreamworld of his memory and back into reality. He sat up before he could process what had just occurred, and was grateful that his head didn’t collide with anything. Not that it stopped his head from hurting, but he attributed that to the sunlight streaming through the windows and hitting his eyes with impunity. He winced at it, before leaning over to that same window and staring outside. A ball appeared to have collided with the side of the house, jarring him from the reverie he’d been stuck in.
“What a dream…” he muttered, his body yearning to fall back down and sleep. When his head hit the pillow, though, he found no solace, and he knew it was no dream. Though the memory he’d relived had placed him before the crazy events of the day before, he was more than aware of where he was, if not everything that had happened to get him there. After a few moments, he found the sense to lift the sheets and check his knee, now in perfect condition.
Wishing to test that, Terrill flung the sheets aside, realizing that Krysta must have covered him with them in the night. He swung off, placing his feet on the floor and testing his weight. All seemed good. With little hesitation, he stood, making a few stretches to ensure his entire body was in working order. Certain that it was, he took a moment to observe the clinic he found himself in, now that the daylight made it plain.
There wasn’t much space, with simply the bed he had laid upon and another small room where Krysta slept. In the center was a table, nothing but some paper and a leather bag upon it. The place was kept rather clean, by Terrill’s estimations, with a few orderly bottles stacked on shelves, but no sign of the herbs Krysta picked the day before. There was barely any indication that Krysta really lived or worked in the house at all. The only sign of any occupant in the place was Terrill’s sword, leaning against the table.
Terrill didn’t want to leave that alone much longer, and finally walked to the table, finding that the note left there was addressed to him. The handwriting was a bit messy, though not illegible, and Terrill got the gist of it: Krysta had gone into town, leaving him a bag of coins to purchase his own breakfast in the square. Shrugging to himself, Terrill made sure to grab his blade and swipe the bag from the table before leaving via the only door.
The sun hit his eyes the second he stepped out, but the glare wasn’t as harsh as he expected thanks to the houses that were built upwards, as if they rested on a hill, and the wall behind. It took only a few moments for him to adjust to the sun before he could take in all of the streets of Carth, now in the daylight. The kids from earlier were still playing with their ball, one of them tripping and falling in the dirt before laughing it off. More people were running to and fro, going about their business for the day. Terrill saw one man with a stock of vegetables, while another was juggling stacks of books.
Despite this area appearing to be more impoverished than that around the square, Terrill didn’t see any sign of dissent or grumbling. He wasn’t all that surprised, even if he wasn’t familiar with Carth. Hart had always been a small mountain town with little in the way of goods to trade or a particular skillset. Yet whenever Golbrucht fell, each was grateful for the gift they’d been given.
He smiled at the thought and shoved his hands into his pockets, heading back the way they had stumbled through the city the night before. It wasn’t a difficult path to memorize, especially with such an obvious landmark as a gate at the entrance to the city. Terrill just followed that, coming close to the stables that were now visible (or rather, that he could now pay attention to), with some merchants or other travelers paying to board or rent out some horses from their journeys. He turned the corner as soon as he’d passed that stable and turned towards the square he’d seen the night before.
This time, it may not have been lit up with a multitude of lights, but it was no less lively. It appeared to Terrill that when the city wasn’t partying at night, they were hawking wares or making a living during the day. The proximity to a port, with a couple ships docking at it, no doubt helped that, and trade appeared to be booming. The symbol on the masts wasn’t familiar to Terrill, but he didn’t let it worry him; considering how little he knew about this city, in his own country, he hardly expected to be familiar with any other. Instead, Terrill followed the rumbling of his stomach over to a baker’s stall, stacked with bread of many different types.
“What can I interest you in, Sir Swordsman?” the man asked with a rather toothy grin. Terrill couldn’t figure out if the geniality was a front, but didn’t much care. He wordlessly grabbed what seemed to be the cheapest loaf he could find and held it out. “Not one for over-indulging yourself, are you?”
“I’m used to disciplining myself,” Terrill said. Confirming the price with the man, he handed over the required money and tore into the loaf. He turned away just a little to observe the people in the square. “Business must be good to have such a variety.”
“Business is always good! Trading with Sagitta always gets better around this time of year for some reason,” the baker insisted. Another customer came up to him, apparently some kind of familiar considering how long he spoke with them. Terrill didn’t let the interruption bother him, continuing to eat while he watched.
There was no sign of the celebration last night, and Terrill almost wondered if he had just imagined it, but a pair of siblings running through the square with balloons trailing behind them told him that he hadn’t. Glad to know his mind wasn’t making things up, Terrill turned back to the baker once his latest customers had departed.
“So, Sir Baker,” he started, keeping his chuckle to himself, “you must see a lot of people around here. Lots of rumors?”
“The rare few. What’s got you interested?”
Before he answered, Terrill scanned the square, just in case he caught sight of Krysta. When she seemed to be nowhere nearby, and not bearing any information, he put his query forth to the baker. “I was wondering if any news of the Chosen One passed through here.”
The baker paused in the middle of organizing his disheveled bread. His blink made Terrill feel as if he’d said something weird, but the young man initially paid it no mind…until the baker started to laugh. What remained of the loaf almost tumbled from Terrill’s hands at the reaction.
“That’s a good one. Chosen One. Like some sort of prophecy, yeah?” A snort came next, and Terrill felt the urge to blink, himself. “Let me guess, next you’re gonna tell me those shooting lights yesterday were some weird experiment from Sagitta and not just some shooting stars, right?”
“Um…” Terrill felt his face flush, feeling embarrassment, though he wasn’t sure for what. His brain tried to figure out why the man was reacting this way to something that should have been common knowledge among the citizens of Sayn. Hoping to figure something out, he shoved the rest of the loaf in his mouth, chewing and gnawing at the bread while he thought up a solution. His hands now free, Terrill shoved them back in his pocket. In seconds, his fingers had found the royal crest that was there, and he thought of a way to recover the conversation, even with the unsettling feeling of the baker’s response. “How about any member of the royal family?”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“Oh, you meant royal family? Well, why didn’t you just say so!” The baker resumed his more genial self, the mocking disappearing in a flash. To thank him for the service of doing so, Terrill tossed another incidental coin into his till, waiting for any more favorable response. “I haven’t heard of anything, but the royal family is pretty secretive as is. Did hear there was some kid dressed like one of ‘em, though. Departed on a ship to Sagitta last night? Or was it last week? Poor kid…”
“Poor kid?” Terrill was getting more curious now, leaning in to make sure he didn’t lose a single word the baker said. The volume of the square was getting louder, filled with customers and other cityfolk running their business for the day.
“Sure. Ships these days tend to run afoul of pirates looking to make a mark. They say their leader is acting like a man possessed, though it’s all a bunch of crock to me.” Another customer was on the way, something Terrill could see from the corner of his eye, and he decided to wrap up getting his information.
“Anything else?”
“Nothing I can think of, but you’d want to ask in the capital about royal family shenanigans. They don’t bother with us over here in Carth, not unless the regent’s daughter decides to marry one of the two crown princes.” The baker let him be, preferring to serve his new customers at that point.
Terrill was fine with that, preferring to walk away from that stall, towards the center of the square. Some soldiers were there, practicing some maneuvers, or something Terrill had no desire to learn of. He just found the fountain that served as a centerpiece and sat upon it, staring out at the ocean that bordered the city.
“How does he not know about the Chosen One…?” Terrill muttered under his breath, careful to assure no one else heard him, lest they thought he was crazy. “Or does Carth just have a different term?”
Speaking to the air didn’t provide any answers, and nor did Terrill expect it to, but he hated the feeling this unknown and confusing information gave him. None of it was helped by Lumen, Charles or Atrum being missing, though he wasn’t sure if the latter was even alive or not. The uncertainty was eating at him.
Letting out a sigh that seemed to startle a mother and child, Terrill leaned back, his hands on the cool stone of the fountain. His head tipped back, some of his hair getting wet while he plotted his next course of action. Krysta wasn’t anywhere nearby, and he clearly wasn’t getting anywhere on his own with how unhelpful the people of Carth were being.
“Maybe I should just go home…” he breathed once more. His feet moved on their own, planting on the stone and pulling him away from the fountain, into an upright position. “The elder would want to know that at least I’m safe, even if it breaks my promise… Wonder if he got the letter that Atrum and I were selected to accompany Sayn’s Chosen One by Charles’s request.”
The only way he would know was by heading back to Hart.
Resigned to his next course of action, Terrill stretched a bit. Then, he turned back towards where Krysta’s clinic was located, hoping to at least thank her and give her a farewell before he departed. It was the least he could do for the girl with the strange magic that healed his leg and offered him lodgings for a night. Putting the talk with the baker behind him, Terrill wove his way through the crowds, dodging citizens, soldiers and sailors alike. More than once, he flicked his eyes over to the ship that was departing from the port, and he wondered if Lumen had departed on a ship just like that the night before, or if the baker had been horribly mistaken. He wanted to bet on the latter, when more than a few things caught his eye.
The first was when he passed by the baker once again, reminded of how the man had mentioned lights in the sky…like strange magic. Terrill could relate, remembering that unearthly wind around him, and the woman that grinned as she sent him and the others flying from the explosion of darkness with a wicked force. Now that he could recollect it, the memory disturbed Terrill, and he felt as if his body could still remember the air being stolen from his lungs. There was little doubt that Lumen and Charles had also been flung to far-off places by that same wind.
But what really disturbed him was the wanted poster he’d missed last night, staring him in the face.
It was her. The woman. The same one from Golbrucht’s castle. The same one they’d seen on the road.
He couldn’t stop himself. Terrill knew he had to get a closer look, so he ran to it, placing his hands on either side of it. There was no denying it from the two images that were sketched there. One was indiscernible, a hooded guise that hid her rather pretty features, but the other belied her more malicious nature as the leader of a group of thieves who went about terrorizing the people. It was a rather hastily scrawled sketch, taken from multiple accounts, but from the few encounters he’d had with her, it captured her essence quite well. The wild hair that danced around her, combined with the malicious grin. It was almost as if she was taunting Terrill from the poster.
Aw, the hero thinks he wants to save everyone?
Terrill’s teeth began to grit as his eyes trailed down the paper to the charges for which she was wanted. It didn’t reveal much that he didn’t already know, from her acts of violence and thievery, to marshalling a gang of bandits. There was little else in the way of information, and the presence of her wanted poster told Terrill that she was still at large. On top of it, he knew there was no chance they knew of her involvement at the castle. Of course, Terrill realized, even he wasn’t sure of the measure or type of her involvement there, only that before all hell broke loose, she had flung him far away.
It was a wonder he was still alive.
“Find something interesting?” It was Krysta, her hand placed on Terrill’s back to indicate her presence. He turned to her, and she must have seen something in his eyes that made her retreat, drawing her hand away and to her chest. Her eyes flicked over to the poster. “Oh, her? You’ve seen her before?”
“Oh, we’ve seen each other, all right. Made my life hell when I was escorting my town’s Chosen One to the capital,” he said, glaring at the visage on the poster. “Ran a ring of bandits that sacked Winthrop one night. I warded her off, but while we were traveling, rumors of her kept popping up everywhere. Then, she…”
Terrill breathed in the hopes of not getting too worked up. He faced away from the poster. “Did you get any information on the people I mentioned? And what do you know about her?”
“Um…well…” Krysta backed up, nearly running into a person stacking crates behind her. They managed to avoid her while she scratched behind her head. “I…I mean, I asked around town, but…from what I know, no one by those names came through.”
“So, the baker didn’t know what he was talking about…”
“The baker?” Krysta processed the information while Terrill watched her, curious of what she’d say next. She stopped scratching the back of her head, interlocking her fingers instead while they began to twist back and forth. With the new motion, she shook her head, finding the baker’s words to be of no consequence. “I can’t speak for anyone else, but there were only a few people who saw, maybe, someone board a ship, but supposedly that same ship went down to a massive squall halfway between here and Sagitta. Some reckon it’s the work of pirates, but-”
“No, it’s hers.” For the first time that morning, Terrill was sure of something. “She uses wind. I’ve seen it. Didn’t believe it at first, but my encounter with you yesterday confirmed that this is her doing.”
“If you say so…” Krysta’s hesitance drew Terrill’s attention again. Their conversation earned a few looks now, some of fear from the sword on his back, and others clearly wondering why they were so focused on a wanted poster. Terrill didn’t care, more interested in Krysta’s words. “Look, Terrill, I know you mean well and care about your friends, but uh…this whole Chosen One and Guardian thing…”
“What? Is there a problem? Did word of Golbrucht’s defeat not make it to the cities or Sayn?” Terrill asked. He folded his arms, not liking that possibility. More people stopped, and Terrill was sure of hearing snickers in the crowd, but he cared little. “Krysta, what did you hear?”
The girl’s feet shuffled back and forth as she bit her lip. Her hands stopped twisting, but instead played with her ponytail, swishing it back and forth while her mind was in a furious state. Terrill approached her, grabbing her by the shoulders and peering slightly down to look in her eyes. She was drawn to that gaze, and swallowed.
“Terrill, no one…no one’s ever heard of Lumen the Chosen One…or Guardians…”
“What?” Terrill was sure it was joke. It had to be. His body rebelled against the idea, letting go of Krysta and stumbling back. His mouth began to laugh, rejecting whatever she was saying. “Come on, that’s not a funny thing to say.”
“I’m not. I mean… I mean, I’m sure Lumen and Charles are real people, but those roles are…they sound like something out of a fairy tale here,” Krysta whispered to him. He was now the one swallowing, backing up against the wall with the poster. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find more information.”
“Information? Krysta, what are you even trying to say? That those monsters were a lie! That I’m just hallucinating everything that happened!”
“No!” she insisted, taking her hands and trying to calm him down. He couldn’t, bile rising in his throat at whatever she was insinuating. “Monsters are definitely real, but following some master? Come on! Golbrucht is just a bedtime story used to make kids behave. You know, eat your vegetables or the King of the Dark and his monstrous servants will come to get you. The closest we have to a ‘chosen one’ is a festival in the capital around this time of year to celebrate Sayn’s prosperity.”
“That’s…what?” Terrill felt like he had a ball in his throat at this, his palms clammy as his fingers dug against the stone walls he was backed against. Those fingers scratched and scrabbled, like he was desperately clawing for air. A couple of them wrinkled the wanted poster, and he found his eyes trailing to it before Krysta grabbed him to steady him.
“Terrill, it’s nothing serious. Just calm down. You probably just got rattled or accidentally ate something in the forest you shouldn’t have. A couple days more rest and your head will right itself and we can find your companions, but for now you need to stay…put…”
Terrill had moved away from her grasp. The bottomless feeling of his stomach was giving way to something else, and before he could fathom his own actions, he had ripped the wanted poster from the wall. His eyes bored into those of the woman on the poster, glinting and taunting. It was her. These…delusions, or perhaps everyone else remembering wrong. She had been there, at Winthrop, in the capital, when they fought Golbrucht. If anyone knew this truth Krysta was trying to tell him, she did. Or perhaps she could tell him otherwise.
Because he wasn’t crazy. He knew that.
He couldn’t be.
Sucking in a breath, he held the poster up to Krysta’s face. “Her. She’s real, right? What do you know?”
“She’s…a woman?” Krysta knew that wasn’t the answer Terrill wanted, could tell by the way her face contorted. “I know about as much as you do. But Terrill, we should-”
He was done with her. There was nothing left to say. She could tell him to rest up all she wanted, or try to imply he was crazy. But he knew he wasn’t. His knee wasn’t the work of delusion, and nor was his best friend.
None of it made sense, but he had one link in the present, in the here and now, that could lead him to answers. Not only for what was going on, but to where the others had ended up. All he needed to do was find her.
Knowing her rather noticeable activities, he figured that wouldn’t be difficult.
He also figured the town guard would be the perfect place to start.
Ignoring Krysta’s calls to him, and the eyes that were watching the two after what appeared to be a quarrel, Terrill shoved his way through the greater crowd, towards the gate and the stable.
“Terrill, will you calm down? Terrill, I didn’t mean to-”
He paid her pleas no mind, finally beating the bustle of the crowd to reach the gate, where the guards were letting some merchants or other travelers through. One of them noticed him waiting and tilted his head in curiosity.
“You need something?” he asked after he’d waved their most recent visit through. The guard on the other end took the next group. He held up the wanted poster.
“This woman. Has she been around town lately? I’m looking for her. Score to settle,” he said. The guard leaned in, scrutinizing the surface before looking up to Terrill.
“You some kind of mercenary or bounty hunter?”
“Hardly. I’m not doing this for money or fame,” Terrill spat, suggesting his impatience that the guard took heed of.
“Okay, calm down there. Just curious. Can’t say I know much but… Bill, you know anything about the woman on the wanted posters?” The guard’s voice reached his companion, who didn’t even look. There were no more entrants to the city for the moment, and Terrill took advantage to press for information. Krysta came to a stop right behind him, heaving from the chase as she dropped her bag, full of that day’s shopping, at her feet.
“Oh, her? Can’t say I’ve seen her around Carth, but she’s been up to all sorts of business. I think it was Sammy what mentioned his sweetheart writing him a letter from the capital. Says she was noticed there stirring up some real trouble in the port,” the other guard said. Terrill let the grin form on his face. He had a lead. “Though I wouldn’t tangle with her. They say she’s a force of nature. The bandits have never been so bold, and no one really knows why.”
“I’ll be fine. Thanks.” Not wanting to be accused of vandalism, he handed the wanted poster over to the first guard, walking away with a wave. His course was set, and Terrill made a beeline for the stable he’d passed by earlier. Krysta was quick to chase after him.
“So, what, you’re going to chase her? Terrill, don’t you think you need rest. You know, put your feet up for a while. I may not have a big place, but it’s decent enough to-oh, for crying out loud! Terrill, listen to me!” Krysta’s pouting and commands fell on deaf ears, especially so when he reached the stable, and the owner approached him.
“Hi, I’d like to buy a horse, just for a trip.”
“Terrill!” This time, Krysta wasn’t taking any other response but his prompt attention. He was halfway to pulling out the remainder of the coins she’d given him when she whipped him around. “Don’t you think you’re acting foolish? Chasing after some wanted woman for goddess knows what reason.”
“Actually, I’d say it’s the clearest course of action available to me,” he said. The horse-master had approached him once more, with a smile that indicated he wanted to show off the stock he had. Terrill felt no need to see them all, telling the man to get him the fastest horse possible. “That woman is no delusion, either in my head or here. So, I’m going to find her. Either she proves I’m right or she proves I’m wrong. Either way, I want answers about a lot of things, and she can give them.”
“No matter what the answer is?” Her question was fearful, worried for him or perhaps his sanity. Either way, he had no room for debate, or doubt. He nodded. “You’re stubborn… Make it two horses.”
“Two?” Terrill asked.
“Well, I can’t have you going off half-cocked, asking questions that make you seem crazy. If there is something wrong in that head of yours, I can help.” He wasn’t sure whether to thank her or glare at her as she slapped her own share of coin down, and lifted her bag up. The horse-master went back into the stable, returning just seconds later with another horse, white to clash with Terrill’s brown one. “And besides, that woman seems dangerous. Wouldn’t hurt to have backup.”
“You’re an odd one, Krysta,” he commented. She grinned back at him. Moments later, the two finished their transaction, and with no further delay, they mounted their horses, beginning a ride out the gate, and back on to the plains of Carth. There was no issue in passing through, and it wasn’t long before both travelers were going at a trot. “Sure you can leave your clinic behind? You really want to stick with this delusional sky dropper?”
“I don’t get much business anyway,” she joked, pulling her horse even with his, the moment Carth was vanishing in the distance. “And I will still use my healing skills, if your busted knee is any indication of your recklessness. But you’re leading the way on our little hunting trip. Where to, Mister Guardian?”
Terrill tossed a smirk at her, pointing northward. “To the capital, Sayn.”
With his goal in mind, and feeling more confident and assured of his course than he had since yesterday, Terrill broke his horse into a gallop, leading he and Krysta towards the woman…and the answers he sought.