“Psst! Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Are you doubting my intelligence, Isaac?”
“Yes. Yes I am. What if we get caught?”
“Then we’ll run away and look for another carriage to hide in.”
“No one is stupid enough to let that happen!”
Myra and I were hiding inside a wagon that is connected at the back of a carriage. We were smothered in fresh hay, the musty smell so strong we couldn’t risk moving for fear of alerting the old couple driving the hay wagon. It was Myra’s idea to wait for the perfect chance to hijack when we noticed two old people taking a brief break near a pond.
“Shut up and stay quiet until we arrive,” she hissed.
“Alright, sheesh,” I murmured. Is it bad that I miss my sister already?
As I thought about my sister, the sound of horses’ hooves echoed through the air, growing louder and louder with each passing second from behind us. It didn’t take long before they were near the carriage, yelling at the couple to stop. They followed what was commanded, and the carriage was at a standstill.
“W-who are you folks? Are you bandits?” The old man yelled.
“No, we’re the carriage inspectors... Of course we’re bandits! Boys! Drag em outta there!” One bandit screamed. While they were doing their thing, I muttered softly at Myra.
“What now?”
“What do you mean, what now? If they search through the hay, we’ll deal with them.”
Sounds easy enough.
“There ain’t much in here! Just some pelts, food, and clothes inside the crates,” a bandit barked.
“Check inside the hay. They must have something inside all that hay...”
Hearing that, we both held our breaths, waiting for our position to be revealed. I could make out the slow thumps of their shoes against the dry dirt as they moved closer to us. There was shuffling above us as they brushed their hands against the hay. I felt something rough graze my arm, and a surprised yelp.
“Now!” Myra mouthed.
We both jumped out of the hay like kids hiding beneath a pile of leaves. The bandits had shocked expressions on their faces, and before they could shout in surprise, I stabbed one of them in the heart. Behind me, Myra already shot three of them dead. Up ahead were five more bandits, with two brown stallions in tow. The old couple were on their knees, mouths still agape, when they saw us jump out of the wagon. They had stark white hair and faces as wrinkled as shriveled apples. Just like the rest of the Athios, they had horns on their heads.
“You had guards tucked away?” The bandit leader scoffed. He reached into his back and unsheathed a sword. “What are you waiting for? Get the-“
With quick shots, Myra killed four of the bandits before they could process what had just happened.
“What the?!” the leader cried. With a frightened expression, he looked around at his fallen comrades in a panic and hadn’t noticed that I was already in front of his face. Opening my palms wide, I grabbed the man’s face and slammed him to the ground, his sword clattering to the side.
“Well, that was easy! You’re safe from these bandits!” I called out. The old couple was still shaking, but they slowly rose.
“I would like to express my gratitude, dear saviors,” the lady’s voice quivered. Her husband patted her on the back and shot a question I was prepared for ever since we hijacked their carriage.
“Why were you folks hiding inside the hay...?”
Ah, he’s cautious. I don’t blame him. If I were in their shoes, I would think we were bandits too.
“Uh... We’re patrollers from Cronas! We heard reports that bandits were conducting raids out here, so we decided to take a look. As for why we were hiding in your wagon-“
“The element of surprise,” Myra interjected. “Strike the little shits when they least expect it.”
I feverishly nodded my head. “Yep. What she said.”
The old man’s tensed shoulders relaxed slightly, yet he was still wary of us.
“Excuse me, but what will you do with him?” The wife said, pointing a wrinkled finger at the struggling man underneath my hand. I raised my crystal sword upward and thrust it into the man’s heart. He gurgled as blood spilled out of his mouth until his body went limp.
“People who kill with malicious intent don’t deserve to live in my book,” I finished.
“Well, I’ll be...” the husband mumbled. Myra’s face shifted, as if to say something, and then she stayed silent when the old lady shuffled over to me and held my hand. I could tell from a glance that she was the type to pamper anyone silly if you weren’t careful.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
She issued me a warm smile and said, “How can we ever repay you?”
I thought about it briefly, and said, “How about a meal at your place?”
****
It took us an hour to reach the outskirts of Cronas. The landscape was painted in lush shades of green, with oak trees spaced apart. To our left and right were fields of golden wheat, the stalks rustling in the gentle breeze. The right was filled with the sweet scents of fruits and vegetables. The two I recognized were corn and tomatoes. I wanted to take in the environment, so I took in a deep whiff...
Yep, it has that floral and sweet smell to it. And dirt. And a lot of shit.
“While it pales in comparison to our forest, it still feels like home,” Myra sighed. She had a face that screamed: Man... I wanna go home already. Speaking of home, I wonder what the Elven Forest is like?
“Hey Myra. You’re from the Elven Forest, right?”
“No shit. You think I’m from the Dwarven Kingdom?” she replied sarcastically.
“With how short you are, many others would think so.”
She turned her head and gave me a sharp glare. “Then I guess you would be the same as the halfwits who think that. “
I shrugged my shoulders at her retort. “Tell me about your experience there. Might as well pass the time while we wait.”
Myra sighed at my eagerness and looked away, staring out at the field. “The Elven Forest is a place where nature is sacred to the elves. They believe that nature is beauty in itself and that defiling said beauty is taboo. Because of that belief, the Elders of the Elven Forest- which are high-ranking Elves who have lived long lives- made a series of laws that would preserve the life of the plants, landscape, and our interactions with nature. Personally, I think it’s a heap of bullshit.”
“And why do you think it’s bullshit?”
“That belief will be their downfall,” she spat. “The Elven Forest is behind the rest of the world in terms of technology. If they were to be invaded by a more technologically advanced kingdom like, say, for example... the Dwarven Kingdom, their chance of winning is slim.”
Why do I have the feeling that she hates her race?
“No, I do not hate elves,” said Myra in a ridiculing tone.
“I wasn’t thinking that at all!”
She rolled her eyes without taking her eyes off the view. “Whatever...”
“Such lively lovebirds...” the old lady giggled.
Lovebirds, huh? Is that what we look like to her? I mean, I wouldn’t mind dating Myra here. She’s a beauty that would have guys swooning over her, but I know that’s a landmine I don’t want to step on. I can feel the bloodlust radiating off her body. Right about now she should be cursing up a storm, but is holding it in. The couple up front seems to have not felt it as they aren’t reacting, which means it’s only directed at me. She’s not looking at me, but I can tell what expression she has right now, and it could probably kill someone instantly. Note to self: don’t bring up anything romantic related to her if you value your life.
“Here we are!” The old man shouted.
Oh, thank god. It was getting stuffy back here.
We hopped off the carriage, and the distinct smell of mildew and old paint wafted from the red two-story house in front of us. If I were to guess, it’s probably at least twenty years old. They had a small porch on the front with a rocking chair fitted with a cushion. A few of the windows had cracks on them but were otherwise squeaky clean of dirt. On the second floor, I could’ve sworn that I saw a silhouette move from one of the windows.
“Please, come inside,” beamed the old lady. The granny ushered us up the rickety steps and pulled the door open. Immediately I was welcomed with the mouthwatering smell of cooked flour and meat. My stomach growled at the scent.
“Do they not feed you patrollers in the urban area?” said the old guy. He took off his coat and set it on a nearby rack.
“They do. I just have a fast metabolism,” I joked. As I walked through the hallways, there was a room to my left that had a long table with chairs on each side. On the right was the kitchen filled with pots, barrels, and jars. There was a person wearing an apron hovering over the stove.
“Oh? We have visitors, grandma?”
The person wearing an apron turned their body around and it was revealed to be a brunette woman. She had her hair pulled back into a neat bun, emphasizing her sharp yet attractive facial features. The lady had eyes that matched her hair and a decent size chest. The brunette greeted us with a warm smile that could power a factory for years.
I could stare into the woman’s beautiful eyes all day...
Myra gave me a harsh elbow to the side with her eyes communicating her message that I should immediately stop my creepy behavior. Noticing that I was staring for a while, the woman looked away, embarrassed.
The granny was the first to speak. “These visitors are our saviors, Cleo. They saved us from a group of bandits earlier. Without them, we probably would be gone from this world…”
With a loud gasp, Cleo dropped a wooden spatula and rushed over. “I’m glad you are okay, but please listen to me from time to time! I keep telling you to hire bodyguards whenever you go out!”
Cleo was a flustered mess and inspected her grandparent’s bodies with a worried expression. After confirming they had no injuries, she shook our hands.
“Thank you for saving them. They can be stubborn sometimes. Would you like to join us for dinner?”
“Why yes! I’ll eat whatever you cook,” I replied almost instantly.
Myra sighed at my reply and facepalmed.
“Well then. The food will be ready in a few minutes. You can go ahead and wash your hands in the bathroom. When you leave the kitchen, take a right and it should be next to a wide black table with portraits.”
After giving us the directions, Cleo went back to the oven and went to work. To her left were bowls filled to the brim with food. My empty stomach rumbled even more at the intoxicating smell of food wafting through the air.
If I don’t leave this kitchen now, I’ll probably lose my mind and eat everything here!
I followed Cleo’s instructions and left the kitchen, looking to my right. As she said, there was a door that was open near a cabinet. Before I headed in, there was a wide range of photographs on top of a black table.
“I’m going in first,” Myra said behind me. I waved at the door, beckoning for her to do her business.
I picked up one portrait, which was a family painting of seven posing in front of the house. The old couple was sitting down in the middle while Cleo was smiling at who, I assume, were her parents. Cleo’s face closely resembled her father, and everything else, her mother. The other two were males I haven’t met or seen. The weird thing about them is that they weren’t smiling like the rest of the family. Well, they are smiling, but it seemed genuinely fake, almost like they didn’t want to be there.
“Something catch your eye?” A voice spoke. Looking up, it was a man staring down at me from a flight of stairs. He was one of the men in the photo who had a fake smile. He too had a sharp face with short, dark-brown hair. The man had a scowl on his face as if he had just eaten a bag of warheads.
“I was just looking at these portraits,” I said, setting it down. “It’s a nice family get together.”
The man slowly descended the stairs, the floorboards creaking under his weight, and paused next to me.
“...Grandpa was persistent in grouping us together for the portrait. I’d advise you to not stay for too long.”
He patted me on the shoulder and entered the kitchen. It was for a split second, but at that moment I felt a hint of mana radiating out of his fingers once he touched me...