Several hours passed uneventfully until Lugor unexpectedly kicked his horse and surged to the front of the group, passing even Elana without a warning. She immediately stopped to see what he was up to just like everyone else.

The man veered left before slowing to a halt, then turned back to the right, crossing the trail in front of them. The pathway had been shrinking for a long while until it had eventually become just wide enough for no more than two horses to pass through the trees at the same time.

“Cap’n! These tracks’r old. Real old! I tink we might’ve lost ‘em along the way.” Lugor turned to face the path ahead and leaned far to one side before sitting upright again. Cautiously the man rode in front of everyone at a slow pace for some time before shouting over his shoulder, “I see som’ting!”

Elana and the others nudged their horses forward, following his lead. Some of the men fanned outward and started weaving through trees on either side of the trail as carefully as they could in case someone was waiting to attack.

After several minutes of precise maneuvering, the group broke through the edge of the forest into a wide-open field. Against the backdrop of a vast expanse of water, Rasmont Range rose far overhead. Millions of tall, narrow pine trees all the way to the snowy peaks at the top of the mountains painted a landscape of in a beautiful, dark green swath that perfectly contrasted the vast expanse of bluish-gray crags behind.

“It’s Tearshed!” cried Lugor.

The large lake narrowed abruptly at one end, eventually flowing into an odd phenomenon of a river that snaked its way through a long, narrow canyon where it continued along the mountain’s edge for miles. Eventually it would disappear underground through a large crevice for several miles more before dumping into the ocean right next to Port Blefcynn. Many had died trying to see if they could take the river all the way to the city from Tearshed.

Kalos remembered hearing an account of how explorers from the Wise King’s Commission originally discovered it. Storytellers referred to it as a place where the ancient general’s tears were spitefully swallowed-up by Montdeofol, an ancient demon lord said to rule part of the underworld from deep in the heart of Rasmont Range.

As the story went, one of the nobles detached from the main group, bringing along two servants to scout for signs of rare gems and gold. While the men forged ahead, breaking stones and gathering samples, Montdeofol grew angry about their presence.

The demon lord shook one of the pillars under Rasmont Range, causing a landslide of rock and ice big enough to make the land tremble on every side as it fell on top of them. Others in the King’s Commission rushed to save them, but they were swallowed up by the river and never found again. It was commonly believed that the explorers were delivered straight to Montdeofol himself to receive their eternal punishment for stealing his treasure.

The place where the river broke through the mountain’s hold into a previously unknown canyon, called Tearfalls, eventually poured down a great waterfall from Rasmont’s stony bluffs like a flood into Blefcynn Bay.

Tearshed was also assumed to be linked to the water source flowing from the King’s Basin at the center of Gotleff Square, as well.

“I don’see anyone else, Cap’n! I don’tink they came dis way at all.” Lugor shouted back while standing up in his saddle for a better view. The pirate strained to scout the entire area around the lake while shielding his eyes from the sun with one hand, just to make sure no one was around.

Elana turned her high-strung mount to the side so she could better address the group. With a reserved, matter-of-fact expression across her perfectly symmetrical face, she raised her voice over the breeze, “I’m sorry, gentlemen. Our hunt stops here. I know we were all lookin’ forward to the reward, and we may yet still be able to discover their location if we double back and try again, but as for this trail, we’ve reached the end.”

Elana was visibly annoyed about the outcome of their journey so far. Several men grumbled in frustration. No one was happy with such a verdict even though there was no logical alternative.

“Personally, I would’ve found it acceptable if all I would get to do is gut the cowards for what they did, even if no treasure was to be found after all. Sadly, it looks like we’ll not be gettin’ that privilege anytime soon.”

Elana ignored whispering among the group as she turned to face her second-in-command, “Alright Mr. Lugor, it’s been a long day, find us a good place to rest. I believe we’ll crack open the rum, gather some fish, and enjoy a pleasant night despite’t all.”

The men’s voices rose in unison with a hearty “Aye aye!”

Each crewman started volunteering for various tasks that needed to be completed before the merriment could begin.

Doogin, Avestus, and Kalos sat quietly to one side while Elana’s crew went to work, preparing for the festivities ahead.

Avestus watched as Lugor started pulling packs from various packs that clanked and clattered when they hit the ground. Upon unrolling the first one to reveal what was inside, many small utensils and an assortment of knick-knacks fell to the ground at his feet.

“I’m going to search for wood,” Avestus stated as he turned back toward Folmsae.

“I’ll join ya,” Doogin announced. He spared one last glance at Kalos while Avestus rode toward the forest at a brisk trot, “Careful, lad. Rum’s given its fair share’o fun to sailors and travelers, alike, but it’s given more’n its fair share’o trouble’n strife to’m, too!”

As Doogin disappeared into the forest, Kalos heard someone ride up to his rear. Soft-spoken words immediately drew his attention from behind, “They’ll be a’right. Could ya help me with somethin’ instead?”

Kalos turned to see Elana proudly sitting atop her high-strung steed, staring expectantly at him.

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Kalos swallowed before nodding and following her back toward the camp on horseback, where others were already setting up rickety-looking, but sturdy cooking structures, gathering horses, and organizing various supplies for later.

Despite Doogin’s warnings earlier that day about watching her too closely, he couldn’t help but stare as her body rocked with the rhythm of the horse’s gait in front of him. Her muscles contracted and expanded in numerous alluring ways as she maintained perfect posture in the saddle.

Kalos realized Elana had been watching him out of the corner of her eye when they came to a halt in the middle of camp. He quickly looked to the lake to try and cover his mishap.

Rather than words of rebuke, Elana offered a simple request, “Think you could gather a large passel’o fish to feed all of us?”

“She’s a fine lake. I think she’ll treat us well, tonight.” He tried to adopt a stoic, wise visage as he gazed out over the water. Sure he’d always been good at fishing, but it wasn’t something he had done in a while.

“I bet so,” Elana chimed. It was the first time she had shown her warm side to him over the past couple of days.

Elana dismounted, but Kalos turned toward the lake and nudged his horse onward, determined not to let her down. He tried to focus on listening to her voice for as long as possible as she started dispensing orders to her crew at the campsite.

#

Kalos used all of the skills he’d learned fishing the many ponds and streams around Ark to gather his best yield ever. Since Tearshed was a large mountain lake similar to the waters at his home, he rightfully assumed the fishing techniques he knew would succeed in similar fashion.

After a couple of hours, the sun started going down and he’d managed to gather several silver-colored Mountfish from the rocky shores. With rainbow-colored bellies and a delicious, flaky texture when cooked, they were easily his favorite fish to eat.

Avestus and Doogin returned around dusk dragging two, long-dad palm trees behind them. Each trunk had been lashed to the other, making a short, stubby sled that was now loaded with dry wood.

They quickly made a small bonfire before stacking a pile of firewood big enough to last the entire night a safe distance from the flames.

The horses were all hobbled in place with thin straps of leather so they wouldn’t be able to move unless panicking for some reason, unlike the night before when they couldn’t so much as shift their hooves without stumbling when the dragon attack occurred. The straps would snap long before the horses might fall this time, allowing them to flee from harm if necessary. Everyone felt a little safer beside the mountain lake than they had in the heart of the enchanted forest of Folmsae.

During the time it took for Elana’s men to finish preparing all supplies and secure the horses, and after the bonfire had been lit, several rolls of bedding were situated upon the soft, grassy meadow throughout the camp. Everyone would eventually stumble over and collapse into their beds for the night after consuming as much rum, fish, and hidden treats they could manage.

#

Kalos finally dragged his harvest of fish back to the campsite and left it near the fire and immediately began cleaning them up for dinner. Much of the crew had already started drinking.

As he steadily continued preparing the catch to be cooked, he started glancing around and counting the multitude of bottles filled with various colored liquids strewn about. At least a dozen of them were waiting in and around the wood pile where they could easily be retrieved by whoever wanted one. After some time he finally finished getting them ready for the fire.

“Say, das a nice catsh, friend!” Avestus complimented from several paces away. “Letsh get em cooked!” Clearly he’d already claimed a bottle or two for himself as he stumbled over to try and take over the next part.

Doogin sat quietly near a small fire by his bedding, watching the sun set. He had a small, well-crafted, bone-colored cup full of amber liquid in his hand. Taking a sip every-so-often, he enjoyed savoring the flavors rather than trying to gulp them down as quickly as possible. He noticed Kalos stand up after cleaning the fish and beckoned him over.

“Aye, laddy, ‘ave a seat here for a bit.” The man grabbed his sword and moved it over, clearing a place right next to him. “Don’t forget yer horn!”

Kalos removed the bedding from his horse’s haunches and carried it over to Doogin’s site before effortlessly rolling it open in one, easy motion.

“Grimm teach ya dat ole soldier’s trick?” Doogin grinned as Kalos calmly sat down on top of his freshly-unrolled bed, which had only taken him a few seconds to do. He leaned back slowly, finally able to give his sore muscles a break after all of the fishing and cleaning he had done.

“Yeah…” Suddenly, Kalos didn’t feel like doing anything else or even trying to talk much with the old blacksmith.

They stared silently into the fire for some time, before turning to watch as Avestus stumbled over and started trying to cook the fish at the big fire just a few paces away. He managed to lose two Mountfish filets in as many seconds to the embers before Lugor materialized from the rest of the group and asked him to get more firewood, instead. Apparently he decided to prepare everyone’s meals for the night when he saw what Avestus was up to. Soon, he began carefully propping the fish up with long, narrow sticks in the most optimal position for roasting.

As he walked away from the fire, Avestus started grumbling about how far away the woodpile was even though it was only a few paces more.

Kalos watched as Lugor scooped a bottle of rum from the ground and poured a little of the liquid in each fish’s mouth. After that, the pirate pulled a leather pouch from his belt and began generously sprinkling a special concoction of spices over them that immediately sent a waft of delicious scents into the air, causing his stomach to growl.

After watching Lugor for several minutes, he slowly looked toward the shadows of the forest in the distance, expecting Grimm to walk out and join them at any moment. It didn’t take long for his older, wiser companion to speak up.

“Don’t worry, lad. Dat man’s got more lives’n a pack’o cats, and twice da luck!” Doogin wasn’t the easiest person to understand simply for his unusual accent, but he seemed to know exactly what to say when it mattered most.

Kalos tilted his head toward the stars and took a long, slow breath. The cool night air mixed with the warmth of the fire somehow helped steady his heart, if only a little.

“I feel like you’re talking about someone I’ve never really even met.” Kalos shook his head, suddenly feeling a wave of sadness wash over him while the older fellow carefully poured some rum into another cup that he pulled from somewhere within his own pack, and filled it almost all the way to the rim.

Kalos peered inside before deciding to mimic Doogin’s slow, meditative sips, which immediately started chasing the chill from his bones while the old man set the bottle aside.

“Thanks, Doogin. I didn’t think to bring a cup with me this time.” Kalos sniffled though he couldn’t tell whether it was from the cold or his emotions slowly beginning to overwhelm his senses.

The old fellow barely acknowledged him as some important thought seemed to be distracted him.

“Yer father was a good’n righteous man. He made Grimm promise that you’d be raised right and not be burdened wit noble woes too soon.”

Doogin stared as the men on the other side of the large bonfire started getting louder and louder in direct proportion to the amount of spirits they had consumed. He slowly turned his attention toward Kalos.

“He trusted yer da, Grimm, with preparin’you fer hard days that are coming. It’ll be a time when Ceirlan loses its way an people are faint from suffering. He knew he’d be killed and youd’ave to bring back the old way for the good o’the people.”

Whether it was fear or pure obstinance that prevented Kalos from asking any questions up to that point, he couldn’t tell, but he knew he could no longer avoid the obvious. He had to know the truth.

“Who was my father?”

©2024, K. M. Plum, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED