We ditched the comfortable privilege of the carriage and opted for more sturdy horses. Baron Beoric, as expected of the Lord of a backwater lands, proved grateful and true to his declaration. Captain Hilam was left with instructions to deliver Syrune’s essential possessions to the Mage’s collective in Sarenthill at his leisure. Syrune did not appreciate either.

On the very evening, five equestrian mounts carried the four of us and our travel backpacks. Captain Hilam for his part of gratitude, willingly provided his own large draft horse. One which I could never accept in good conscience. The man had to bring order to a town that is picking itself up after the recent events. Relieving him of his mount would be tantamount to crippling him. But the Captain succeeded in his persuasion with Karlienne.

My mount was a destrier, not the best war-horse for charging but one that was trained for scouts. Agile and swift. With Arlene fulfilling her own missions, the heavy crown of scouting responsibility and camping fell on my head. A tall order to fill, since the rest of the party, consisted of a picky mage, a petulant unruly child and a parsimonious herbal woman.

Karlienne and Colby rode together on the draft horse. The half-elf proved surprisingly competent with guiding the huge beast and more importantly, she was able to control the young gnome. She held his attention by playing riddles and word games, which kept his brain cells stimulated. An action, that reduced his urge to move. On the one occasion where she attempted to a simpler premise of humming a children’s song, Colby reverted back to his usual self and complained about the Iambic pentameter and the higher harmonics generated with the humming. Defeated, Karlienne switched back to playing riddles with Colby.

Contrary to the rest of us, Syrune had difficulties. The mage struggled with riding. It started as a frown and soon escalated to grumbling and with every pace of the journey, the androgynous face distorted in demurral, until the rider’s face was longer than the mounts. Thrice, the stallion, pecked by an equestrian curiosity wandered off the tracks, deep into the woods. At the fourth attempt, I decided to call it a night for resting.

Under the starry summer skies and unbothered by the cold, we rested beside a small roadside campfire. Battered from the day's event and the long ride, Syrune wandered into the dreamland swiftly. Only Colby retained his endless enthusiasm. In the silent and peaceful atmosphere, surrounded by unadulterated nature, the lad revealed his hidden knowledge of astronomy as he tried, with brimming passion, to name constellations and their stars. If his intention was to impress Karlienne, he failed, for only one thing held her interest.

Soon, Syrune’s motionless form rhythmically rose and fell. Only the pale light from above, outlined the delicate features of the scholar.

I moved closer to Karlienne.

“I could not help but wonder,” I lowered my voice and made sure not to disturb, “I have another half-elf girl in my company and she loathed Syrune’s company. But I do not sense any such hesitation from you.”

“Then she is the sort to quickly jump into conclusions,” declared Karlienne.

I chuckled at her assessment of Arlene. The herbalist woman was right on her remark.

“And you are not disturbed by Syrune’s presence?”

“People can be easily mistaken, especially if you are different from the crowd,” uttered Karlienne as she pulled the thin blanket over herself and then she turned and rolled herself into a cocoon.

*****

Despite the warm sunlight seeping through the verdant canopies, sleep held us in its embrace. We broke the camp later in the day and no further delay set out on our journey. Syrune was visibly annoyed and the first complaint came. A lack of warm refreshment and soothing herbal tea was the provided reason for the mage’s dour mood. Contrastingly, Colby was happy that dental hygiene was not enforced.

As the afternoon sun began its descent, I consulted the map again, before making a sharp turn into the off-beat track, away from the well-trodden path.

Karlienne was the first to notice. She was not a ranger but the skills she honed as a herbalist, spending hours and days in the woods, was not to be underestimated.

“Rylonvirah, I suppose you realise that we are not on any marked path?” asked Karlienne.

“That is true. We are not taking the official path,” I answered.

“But the road would have taken us directly to Fargate entrance?” came the voice of Syrune.

“And that is what everyone expects us to take,” I let my horse slowly trot at a walking pace,” Zelaphiel and Merrick are on pursuit, hot on our trails.”

The half-elf and the mage nodded silently at the obvious statement.

“Zelaphiel had his forces crippled in the recent encounter. He would need to muster forces from Valteburg or from Ellisinore. I am guessing Valteburg,” I revealed.

“Why?” asked Syrune.

“Because Lady Stormaire would try everything to prevent the forces from being deployed from Ellisinore,” said Karlienne to Syrune.

“If forces from Valteburg arrive, they would need wide-scale logistics to move. They will arrive from the Ratmire road,” I explained.

A stilled silence fell in the woods as well slowly moved through. Only the occasional sounds of some quirky woodland creature interrupted. Even those were sounds of curiosity and not a sound of alarm or threat.

“Merrick will try to gather his compatriots and some more men. Knowing him he would shoot like an arrow, taking the shortest path. He would aim for the Fargate,” I elucidated further.

My words triggered a frown in Syrune.

“Fargate is what we should be aiming for, the closest one to the octant laboratory,” spoke Syrune.

“And the one where we would be most expected and hunted. It would not surprise me if Zelaphiel managed to get a few mounted gryphon riders patrolling the path,” I answered nonchalantly.

“So we enter through the low crag pass?” finally asked Karlienne.

“That would be the plan,” I nodded, “and if everything works out, we should have far little trouble navigating inside,”

“About that, the bank is on the West District,” said Karlienne.

She did not miss the visible deep sigh that escaped.

“Will that be detrimental to your exploration?” She asked despite knowing the answer.

“It is in the opposite direction,” I finally answered her, “That will prolong our stay. But we can accommodate even if delays us by one more day.”

Karlienne’s eyes twinkled in the low light while a hidden smirk, that did not go unnoticed, graced her lips.

Syrune scowled. The vicious sort, that deformed the mage’s tender countenance, still remained. A sudden web of tension surrounded our lone party with Syrune, like a predatory spider, on its center.

“If it helps, the way to the West District is not too far from the Low Crag Pass. We can complete both the missions with relative ease,” My words did not have their intended calming effect on Syrune.

We rode further in silence till the night greeted us.

*****

The next four days we struggled through the thick verdant growth. We avoided the open grounds and well-trodden path to avoid the flying gaze of Zelaphiel, should he have any.

Syrune spiralled into depression. With every passing day, the mage lost all previous vigour. The mage’s self-imposed isolation continued even during the evening campfire banter and retired to bed before the rest of us.

On the fourth day, Syrune still struggled to latch on. Karlienne, who noticed the change in the mage on the second day and attempted futilely to mend with the scholar, sort of sighed at the obvious. Only Colby remain oblivious and pure.

And so it came as a little surprise when we found ourselves, with notched arrows on drawn longbows pointed in our direction.

“You are a strange company,” cut the voice through.

“May I request the speaker to come forward?” shouted a placid Karlienne, unhindered by the threat of arrows.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

A practised still silence answer her demands.

“I presume you are from the Viridian Dawn Rangers. I can prove myself if you want,” calmly uttered Karlienne as she scanned through the thick vegetation.

“I am Karlienne. Elphene can prove me,” she continued, “though I suspect she is here,” She added as an afterthought to no one in particular.

A loud chuckle came in response, deep from the woods, as if the person felt at home.

“Karlienne, you say? and Elphene to boast? Why not call Raelion himself as a witness?” taunted the voice.

“I would rather eat dung, than call on Raelion,” Scoffed Karlienne, “and you know that well, Caelor. So stop teasing me.”

At the call out of his name, the older wood-elf with graying wild hair along the temples, stepped out. A wide grin was all the peace offering that he brought.

Karlienne held a hard squint and a scowl that dripped with venom.

“Karlienne, it is always nice to meet you,” said Caelor with candour.

“You felt the need to notch arrows against me?” asked Karliene, her anger still unquenched.

Caelor gave a nod and all arrows were lowered.

“It is a strange company, that you keep. So I took precaution,” carefully answered Caelor.

Resigned in demeanour, Karlienne sat still on the draft horse and her knuckles paled as she grabbed the reins tightly.

“A drow and a human mage, away from well-trodden paths,” Caelor extended his neck to get a good glimpse at Colby, “and a small being does scream strange company.”

“Out with it,” demanded Karlienne.

“Begging your pardon,” another raspy voice came, “Caelor was merely worried about your safety.”

The scaled speaker closed in, clad in a dull grey travelling robe and with webbed hands folded beneath, the speaker carried themselves with the gait of an esteemed house guest.

“Caelor thought that you and your child had been taken hostage and wanted to outwit your captors. As I see, we have been mistaken,” explained the newcomer.

“You thought Colby was my son?” asked Karlienne with befuddlement and after a moment to compose herself, she shook herself in disbelief.

“It was difficult to infer from a distance,” explained Caelor.

With that, our sudden tension broke and we all burst into laughter, including Syrune.

*****

In a small meadow or perhaps, a clearing in the middle of the forest, the viridian dawn ranger set their temporary camp. The scent of a warm stew, promising garlic, cardamon and a few other exotic spices, wafted through, tantalizing our avaricious nostrils. Colby was the first one to run towards the inviting stew, abandoning all etiquette. I simply rolled my eyes at his actions.

“The simple joys of being newly hatched,” voiced the scaly newcomer. A sentiment that I could only agree to.

“If it is not an effrontery, may I enquire, as to the reason for your travels?” the scaly newcomer asked.

I took another deep look at them. A lizardman, an argonian, panthatian or even a saurian, I am unsure of them. Even their gender is ambiguous. After a bit of internal debate, I decided against putting forward the question.

“Wise one,” I went with a neutral venerable term, “We are forced to perform this arduous task to retrieve the legacy of our master mage.”

“An altruistic goal,” uttered the speaker, “is always a commendable action.”

I was not certain if anything that I achieved in my life could be termed altruistic. Especially, not with the revelation of the last few days.

“Dark elf traveller, I sense disturbance within you,” said the venerable wise one.

I simply sighed in response.

“Refresh yourself. The night is long. Such conversations are best left when the soul is undisturbed by the physical needs,” said the wise one.

As I turned to extract myself from their presence, their voice rang out.

“Also, I thank you for calling me a wise one, but I am afraid that I do not do justice to such a title, if you must, call me the Fool-Who-Seeks,” said the Fool-Who-Seeks.

I furrowed my forehead at their weird choice of name.

“My given name is no secret, but hard to pronounce for other races. Even the name Fool-Who-Seeks is not a name but a reflection of what I do,” explained the Fool-Who-Seeks without any need.

As I tried to leave pondering about the Fool-Who-Seek’s gender, their voice cut once more.

“And now you might be wondering about my gender,”

Either I am becoming easy to read or they have some ability to infer my mental state through changes in my heartbeat or blood flow.

“I assure you, competent as my senses can be, I do not possess such keen abilities to infer individual heartbeats,” explained the Fool-Who-Seeks.

Without saying much, I vacated their presence.

*****

Availing themselves shamelessly to the hospitality of the wood-elves, Colby and Syrune retired early.

Karlienne spoke with a lot, and some she hugged and held hands tightly. With some, she even abandoned her cold calculating mask and revealed her other self.

“Caelor, I cannot help but notice, there are some from other races here?” I asked.

“You expected only wood-elves?” Caelor gave a wry laugh, “the Viridian Dawn Rangers are mostly wood-elves but we do consider other prospective candidates in our ranks.”

“And Karliene? how does she fit into it?” I asked feigning disinterest.

“If she did not talk about her past,” Caelor crossed his arms in front, “which, if I am not mistaken she had not, then I do not want to reveal what she would not do on her own.”

“Fair enough,” I gave a chuckle.

“We are not any commissioned or sanctioned force. So we operate on a different note,” explained Caelor, immediately switching back the topic.

“How so?” Genuine eagerness motivated my thoughts.

“We are more a community functioning as a vanguard if that makes sense,” said Caelor.

“A laughter shared after a warm dinner by the campfire is always a sign of a warm company,” said Fool-Who-Seeks as they approached us.

“You are the healer of the contingent if I am not mistaken?” I slowly approached the burning question.

“I do possess some healing abilities but no, that privilege and burden is not mine. I am merely the fool who seeks,” came the answer.

Caelor just chuckled silently as if an unknown jest is about to happen. One that only he is privy to.

“I was a part of a journey till I came to their company and I will be a part till my quest succeeds,” More elusive answers followed.

“A quest?” I asked.

“I sought wisdom and travelled to obtain, yet wisdom is a finicky thing. Some only obtain after pondering centuries over tomes and books, while some gain it in a fraction of a moment, in the middle of a battlefield surrounded by pain, agony and death,” the Fool-who-Seeks explained.

The amber of the campfire, reflected from the black of their beady eyes as their eyes darted between Caelor and me.

“I, came to the Viridian Dawn, in a journey to connect with my own wisdom,” they continued.

“So you are a journeyman, on your way to becoming a tribe shaman?” I asked.

“If such an explanation provides you a tangible image, then yes,” came the answer.

Karlienne completed her pleasantries and darted like a thirsty fawn to the spring.

“So Lady Rylonvirah, I see that you are quite settled with this motley crew,” her words contorted with mirth. Somehow, the company of Viridian Dawn Rangers lifted her spirits.

“It is not often that you would abandon your passion for counting coins, Karlienne,” jabbed a friendly Caelor.

“Asterlund got attacked by planar entities,” Karlienne’s controlled voice broke.

Caelor wetted his dry lips and swallowed saliva, in a feeble attempt to calm his nerves.

“Wild times ahead,” uttered Fool-Who-Seeks, “We thought something felt wrong. With the woods, with the green. Even the dire wolves spooked.”

“The good news is, the portals closed,” I hoped to gain back some optimism.

“And we are on our way to Arlond,” revealed Karlienne much to my chagrin. I cast a glance of disapproval which Karlienne met and promptly dismissed.

“Arlond,” repeated Caelor in disbelief, “Why would you want to get to the center of trouble?”

“Center of trouble?” We both said in unison.

“This is what we know for a fact, Karlienne,” Caelor dropped his voice to a whisper, “That region has been eerie for a while but more so now. If you could, you should abandon this foolish venture.”

“Even reaching Arlond would be a task,” added Fool-Who-Seeks.

“The dire wolves are on the hunt,” further added Caelor.

“This far south?” Karlienne voiced her concern.

“Here is the strange part, they were hurt and scared. Forced to relish their territory,” said Caelor, “Something spooked the dire wolves.”

“Maybe a great wyrm or a pride of cave lions?” I asked.

“Definitely not. The dire wolves were hurt, but had no claw or bite marks. Our rangers would have noticed,” explained Caelor.

“No tracks of drakes or lions either. A lot of deer and elk trails. Definitely not a habitat of cave lions or drakes,” added Fool-Who-Seeks.

“That leaves only one possibility then, Spider infestations?” I suggested.

“Checked that too,” answered Caelor with irritation, “The verdant looks healthy and abundant. A spider infestation would have altered the balance. In fact, the woods have been thriving.”

“The forest is teeming with viridescent energy,” said Fool-Who-Seeks.

“Pardon my lack of understanding, the forest is not my forte,” I chimed in, “but if there are trails of elks and deers, how did they not graze on the lush green vegetation?”

Caelor and Fool-Who-Seeks exchanged a look that contorted with mirth.

“The herds not grazing is not the surprising part. It is the wounds that we found on the dire wolves,” Caelor’s eyes bore into mine, “The wounds seemed as if they were made of horns, like antlers, of all size.”

“A mythical woodland spirit or maybe a spirit guardian?” quizzed Karlienne with her interest renewed.

“None,” answered Fool-Who-Seeks. Silence followed with no further explanations provided.

“Karlienne, it would do you well to not jump in recklessly,” Pleaded Caelor.

Finding her resolve too stubborn, Caelor sought refuge with me. He gently leaned close, his non-calloused hands clutched mine with a light squeeze.

“I would implore you to stop this madness,” asked Caelor.

Before I could refuse the wood-elf, the raspy voice of Fool-Who-Seeks interrupted.

“It is futile, Caelor. For the Dark elf has been addicted to courting death,” The dark beady eyes averted looking at me, “She has drunk, one too many times, from the cup of foolhardiness and is now a thrall to it.”

“I will not deny, I do have taken ventures where the odds were stacked against me,” I did not bother to restrain my displeasure, “but your comments were uncalled for.”

“Dark elf, you are a person of day and night. Truth and falsehood,” continued Fool-Who-Seeks, “You see either friend or foe. My words do not have such intended meaning.”

“Sometimes what one sees in the mirror depends on who is standing in front,” added Fool-Who-Seeks, “Please remember these words.”

“Going by your own words, then whatever is happening around Arlond, may just be a matter of who is perceiving it?” I countered with a grimace.

“No. That land is cursed. It saps your will and leaves you a hollow husk,” trembled Fool-Who-Seeks with every hard spit word, “That is pure evil from beyond and belongs to the intangible void.”