Yet another day past, but no matter the trials she went through, Imira did not back down. Unsure whether or not to feel regret, there was only the path forward.
Riding under dark canopy, Imira quickly lost count of the days. Perched on the horse behind Alric, she tried to remain steady without relying on him, and paying attention to his garrulous lessons at the same time.
“So you need to take into account that while you can scavenge more thoroughly during your first pass through an area, this degrades the sustainability. This leads to an interesting situation, one with no right or wrong answer, especially when living the life of a vagabond. Making the decision to overharvest resources benefits you slightly, and will likely not lead to any predicament, but has the chance to affect others who follow in your footsteps negatively. Of course, it’s not even a guarantee that leaving behind roots or the main stalk will benefit someone— any particular instance of the practice actually has a very slim chance of doing so. But those small chances build up over time, particularly when traveling near population centers.”
Alric rattled on, mixing a plethora of subjects seamlessly. Casually touching every possible tangent, while retaining it all would be impossible, Imira gained a more full picture of the central subject.
There was no time for her to dwell on how he knew so much of everything, instead trying to stay focused on both his words and their surroundings. That alone felt overwhelming—as Imira contemplated what was being said, Alric’s ponytail hit her in the face as he swiveled back to engage her further.
“There is no right or wrong no matter the decision you make. However I am curious as to what you would decide to do.”
“If plants are needed, why leave any behind?” Imira knew—by concept, if not name—that the question was intended as a slippery one borne from the beast called ethics. The wizard gave her something to puzzle over, yet she could not see herself why the answer was not simple. Of course she saw that others should not be treated with excessive callousness, but if you needed something, you needed it.
Turning his upper body almost too far to look at her, he scratched his head in momentary contemplation of her answer. From Imira’s understanding of him, Alric wanted things to be arcane, and her simple answer was not the sort of thing he wanted to hear. She would not be able to fool him otherwise, and trying to do so would likely irk him more so than being straightforward. Leaning back as far as she could while remaining steady, Imira waited for him.
Her muscles grew slightly sore attempting to hold in position. The young man serving as her guide occasionally spaced out when thinking. Not just for a few moments, but sometimes for minutes at a time. Imira quickly learned that it was quite easy to bring him back from the state, but he usually ended up in a better mood if left to conclude his thoughts on his own time.
Dazedly swaying with the horse’s gait, eventually Alric returned in spirit.
“Certainly a sensible position, but how do you judge a need? We have food now, so we do not need it. If we had none, uprooting every last plant would be sensible to survive. However how about those times between? Should you not be hungry, but have little food, should you use more energy leaving bits behind? There is a point where your could expend a little more effort to collect food at a subsistant rate.”
“If there’s not enough food to get where you’re going, you need it.” Imira resisted the urge to shake her head; he needlessly wanted to complicate things. It didn’t matter how you got the food, so long as there was enough. That was how people lived minding their own lives and trying to do right by themselves. Caring for others took a back seat—no matter what complications Alric tried presenting, that didn't change.
“Ah, but enough food can be gathered either way. Do you uproot the plants towards the beginning and leave those later on alone?”
“You can't guarantee there will be more later on.”
“Nor can I guarantee my ability to fend off whatever we find in these woods. However it is more than a reasonable certainty. Planning is the intersection of contingency and efficiency. While distinguishing what may be from what may come to pass is an important skill, take into account that without some dependency on the future, you will be unable to rely on anything.
Preparing food for a long journey ahead is a tacit acceptance of this fact. It is important to be aware of what the future can hold, and be ready to face it, which is why even minutia are important to recognize. For example, rikkara roots actually hold more similarities to hard fruits than to vegetables. Without additional influence, they last around two weeks. The best way to preserve them for food is pack a layer of fine clay around them. Alchemically it is better to preserve them in a solution of water and soil, but they are not quite as nutritious that way.” Shifting back to concrete matters, Imira mentally stumbled at the quick shift, feeling a lack of finality.
The theoretical discussion of subjects was not easy to grasp, but she found it far preferable to the alternative. While ‘hands on’ learning led to better retention of the information, Imira would rather scrub them wholly from her mind. The forest held countless dangers, yet despite the chilling presence that permeated the air, Alric dwarfed them.
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Subduing beasts they crossed, his lean frame possessed an unnatural strength which easily suppressed them. She wasn't a city girl, but it turned Imira’s stomach how casually Alric butchered them.
Without a change in expression, he asked her to locate the various organs within the creatures, splitting them open to show the results of her guesses. Logically it seemed unreasonable to become upset—in many cases they had been attacked only moments before. However in an instant, before she could even recognize what happened, the wizard upset the balance of power. Creatures which should have been the faces of death within their domain quickly ended up beneath his heel.
Alric grinned as they rode on. Despite his numerous warnings and encouragements of cautious behavior, he was far more dominating than any tale to come out of the woods. Instead of a comforting fact, Imira found herself putting distance between the two of them. While he certainly kept harm from befalling her, she could see no difference between his smiles whether they faced her or his prey.
At the end of the day, that happened to be the crux of her unease. He acted with a facsimile of understanding, but underneath it, Imira couldn’t be certain of anything. Looking upon her with satisfaction when trying out one of his lessons, even in failure, yet seeming miffed when attempting to echo back any of his thoughts. Agreement was not what he looked for, but neither did it seem like he required her to be successful in the realm of skills either.
It seemed more and more likely that he really had taken her along on a whim.
Though either way resulted in Imira getting away from the village, it conflicted with at least some part of her. While she had no overarching goal to accomplish, no one wanted to hold a meaningless position. Floating along like a plastic bag caught in the wind, growing tattered and worn without influence—the desire to adventure also included being self reliant and able to determine her own path.
As beneficial as traveling with a powerful wizard was, she came to realize that without direction she could exert very little influence on the situation. After Alric noted that she became sore after riding a small portion of the day, they no longer traveled for as long. Stopping for the night, Imira had nothing to say; whether they rushed or slowed down did not affect her, and she had no reason to try and exert herself to change anything.
Alric preemptively adjusted their travelling habits to make her more comfortable, and without a plan for the long term, Imira could see no reason to make a request other than for the sake of it. There was no need to try and press onwards; saying nothing as Alric dismounted.
“Mmn, you’re getting better on the dismount.” He bobbed his head up and down as she got off the horse after him. “Don’t be afraid to leap a tad more. Make sure your legs are bent and spring off.”
A phrase said a dozen times before, given honestly each time. Imira knew what she was meant to do already, but simply knowing didn’t suddenly bestow the ability upon her.
Setting up camp in the evening didn’t take long, but the process still seemed intentionally lengthened. Many rituals, such as preparing the food a distance away from the fire didn’t seem to make much sense, and Alric tended to want a much larger area than necessary cleared. Imira worked by using the side of her foot to sweep up their clearing for the night, as Alric doddered about. Doing so accumulated an uncomfortable amount of grime in the short run, which she was not used to having lived next to a river her whole life. Alric did not budge on the matter, despite verbally recognizing the habit was currently superfluous to them, and Imira proceeded with the task in the easiest way.
She needed to save up her energy, because while they rested for a long period of time and setting up for the night didn’t take much effort, they didn’t begin to sleep as soon as they stopped moving. True to his word, Alric didn’t expect much of her the first three days of travel. After that, he quickly resumed her training.
“Learn to move without thinking, then forget how to not think! Instinct is important in combat, but be aware that every strike carries purpose.” The voice surrounded her, as she quickly moved the spear to intercept a light tap. Moving on from thrown stones initially seemed like a step up, but the difficulty only increased. Since setting out, Alric rarely repeated the same exercise two days in a row, but still had her training at least four hours a day.
At the moment he danced around Imira, leisurely swatting towards her with an unassuming stick. There should have been no reason to become so exhausted, even if they persisted for long periods of time, Alric frequently called for breaks. She wanted to speak up, to say he didn’t need to go easy, but her arms tired quickly from merely parrying his blows.
From the left and right almost simultaneously, in training to deflect projectiles Imira learned to handle the spear with the dexterity to turn to intercept attacks. Unlike the soft pitches, even if his swings did not contain much force, she found it difficult dealing with Alric’s blows. Making use of the stick to keep her own weapon off balance, he sent her steadily staggering back in circles, occasionally poking at her sides or face in a manner so gentle it was doubly provocative.
“The spear is a weapon far more suited to blocking than a sword or axe. Use both hands on the haft if necessary, you needn’t ward off attacks singlehandedly. That is best done when on the offense and you carry the momentum.”
To exemplify his point, before Imira could react, he struck the end of her spear, torquing from her grasp before prodding at her armpit. Caught between retrieving the weapon and moving up and away from the assault, she found herself tripping across the ground.
“I won’t say to never let go of your weapon, but before you are ready, dropping it is tantamount to death in battle. Well, in this case given your hold you should have abandoned it entirely. You’ll learn with practice I guess.”
Giving her a moment, Alric twirled his branch with a flourish, so she had time to recover her stance. Overwhelmed, Imira never gained any ground, only sore muscles. Like every day before, she continued to the point of exhaustion, with a steady stream of tips, most of them esoteric, some seemingly contradictory.
Pushing on, no matter how obtuse most of the lessons were, they didn’t feel worthless at least. Imira’s efforts didn’t show themselves enough to affect Alric’s movements, but she now maneuvered with some grace. Fumbles and stumbles plagued her, but steadily decreased in frequency. In time, she would no longer have to feel as useless as she did.
Because though Alric acted as a particularly bothersome vector to the wider world, his focus aligned with Imira’s. She left the village behind to experience more of Derriad, and lands beyond. His off-kilter attitude emphasized Imira’s ability to care for herself in the future—something she was more than grateful about. Though she did not fully understand exactly what she sought, or perhaps for that reason, she knew she needed to be able to survive on her own to find out.
For the moment, she would just have to collapse in a sweaty mess, her mentor sighing at the inevitable failure. With a spell wiping her clean, food was prepared and she began to fall asleep. The dark presence of the forest drew closer, but the wizard remained awake with a soft smile.
Until she could fend for herself, Imira would reluctantly rely on him.