Drake woke up to Kniivar using Wood Realm to make small balls, while Frainer used Telekinesis to juggle them around. It was so weird and unexpected that he could only stare at it for a long while, and question if he was still dreaming.
It took him a while to realize that the two Iferes were playing. Kniivar was mesmerized by the floating balls, and Frainer was happy to show off his skills. Drake didn't mind, to be honest. It was a way of training and having fun at the same time.
He stood there watching for some time before stretching and getting up. He had learned from Higler that he should never enter a deep slumber in the wilderness, so even when it seemed like he was sleeping, the quietest of noises was enough to wake him up. It was a pain in the ass sometimes, but necessary. He didn't want something like the Moontrit to happen again.
While he packed his sleeping bag, he looked at the Ricianides. He would like to study them more, but he hadn't prepared enough supplies for a long stay. Besides, he could always find more Ricianides is his researcher side kicked in later.
"Hey, you two, time to go."
The Iferes shrieked happily, and ran towards the Yscalent, jumping - or in Frainer's case, floating - on it. The huge mount didn't seem to mind. The mist ball, however, saw something when Drake was putting everything in his backpack. Using Telekinesis, it picked up the small statue Drake had made.
"Tutu?"
"This? Something I made. Leave it here, I will get better with more practice, and make you a prettier one."
Drake dismissed it pretty easily. It was just something he made to occupy his mind while he couldn't sleep, and it was, in all honesty, quite ugly. However, Frainer seemed to like it. When he wasn't looking, the Ifere put the wooden figure in the saddle's pouch. For Frainer, it was a gift Drake had made for it.
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Looking at the map in his hands, Drake frowned. The region they were about to go through was marked with a very cartoonish skull. Unfortunately, Kinton Valley was the shortest route to Ricker. Other roads to the city went around it, and took at least a week, instead of two days. Still, most people chose to go around it, for a simple reason. Barbarians.
Kinton Valley was Barbarian territory. There was no rule that said others couldn't go through it, but the peace treaties clearly stated that anyone who ventured into Barbarian territory was on their own. Even if they were captured, tortured, killed, and even eaten, no one would move a finger. For the same reason, there weren't any outposts inside the valley.
However, Drake was fairly confident he could cross Kinton Valley unharmed. Taurons - the tribe that lived there - were peaceful, and, according to Higler, let travelers pass through without any trouble. That is, unless they intentionally seek it. The ranger also said that if he talked to a Barbarian, he was to mention his name, and they would treat him well.
"Shall we go?"
Kniivar and Frainer, oblivious to the worries Drake had, cheered happily. He sighed, and then smiled. Barbarians were odd people. They were different from the rest of humanity. They lived in tribes, rarely used firearms, and mostly hated the 'invaders', which was what they called normal people. If Drake had to describe, they were a dying race.
Most Barbarians had been forced into Sanctuaries, large stretches of land like Kinton Valley. There, presumably, they could live and maintain their ways in peace. The truth was something entirely different, but Drake didn't know that yet.
He tapped the Yscalent with his heels, and it moved forward, gaining speed slowly. Soon, it was so fast the trees were barely a blur. Yscalents could hold that speed for hours without getting too tired. They were amazing mounts. He didn't see the sign warning he was entering Kinton Valley. Even if he did, he probably wouldn't care.
The forest thinned out as the trees became more sparse, giving way for sand and rocky soil. Small bushes and plants lined up the road - which wasn't properly a road anymore, but just a faint trail. Weirdly enough, although the valley seemed somewhat devoid of like, Drake felt like he was being watched. He didn't like that feeling. It gave him chills, and he reached for his rifle, but there was nothing to shoot at.
Frowning, Drake scanned the surroundings, and made his Yscalent slow down to a halt. The uncomfortable feeling of being watched vanished all of the sudden. Still grabbing his rifle, he shrugged at Frainer and Kniivar's interrogative gaze. They could sense his uneasiness.
"It's nothing. But try not to tire yourselves out now, okay? We might need your power soon."
He patted them, and wondered when Kniivar would become as big as it's mother. By then, he wouldn't need a Yscalent. It would also be more difficult to travel. Focusing back on the road, he shrugged once more. Those thoughts were just him trying to distract himself from the eyes watching them.
Ready to make his Yscalent use Boost if it was needed, Drake urged it to keep running. He could turn back if he wanted, since he was barely twenty kilometers into Barbarian territory, but the troublemaker inside of him didn't like to admit he was slightly fearful. Considering he was also curious to meet the Taurons, and he had Higler's word that they wouldn't attack him, he pressed on forward.
However, whatever kind of communication he was expecting didn't come during the rest of the day. Night came, and Drake, more relaxed now, stopped his Yscalent next to a river. There were many of them crossing the valley, but somehow, it still looked barren.
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After finding enough dry branches and wood for a fire, Drake took off the saddle from his Yscalent, and used it as a pillow. Then, he found another piece of wood, and pulled out his carving knife. This time, both of his companions watched as he worked.
He tried to make the Ricianides, but threw his attempt in the fire. It ended up looking like a simple ball, that even Kniivar could make.
"Tututu..."
"Yeah, I felt it too."
Laying down, he nodded at Frainer and then closed his eyes. They were being watched again. Well, he was expecting that. In fact, he wanted that. Otherwise, why would he lit a fire that could be seen from kilometers away? He might have done that by mistake two weeks ago, but not now. Three or four near-death encounters changed the way a person behaved.
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Fleeting Stone dragged himself through the ground, careful not to make any noise. The invader was stupid, he thought. Going through Tauron territory without a care in the world was the same as asking for death. He had been spotted as soon as he entered Kinton Valley, and had been followed by shadows since them. Fleeting Stone was the one chosen to capture him.
Capture, not kill. He was both angry and excited. Angry because the elders wouldn't let him kill the invaders unless they attacked first. Fleeting Stone thought that was even stupider than what the man was doing. If they waited until they attacked first, they would suffer more. But he would obey. Excitement overshadowed his anger. That was his rite of passage. If he managed to capture the invader, he would have proven himself to be an adult.
And so, he crawled, as quiet as he could, to the campfire. He was like a shadow, slithering through the ground unnoticed. He had trained his whole life in the arts of remaining unseen. An army patrol could waltz a few meters from him and never know he was there. Or so he believed.
But, when he reached the sleeping figure, holding his knife backwards so he would hit the invader not with the blade, but the handle, he noticed something was wrong. It took him a few seconds to discover what, and that was enough for him and his knife to be lifted off the ground, and float around.
The ball of mist that was one of the reasons to attack the invader wasn't there. Only the green Ifere was looking at him with a curious glance, as if it was asking why he was there. As for Frainer, it showed himself now, almost transparent in the darkness. From behind a rock came a person, following the Ifere.
"You can stop now, Frainer."
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Drake watched with interest and a little of surprise as the Barbarian was dropped to the ground, and struggled to get up. Frainer panted, tired, and Drake rubbed him. Lifting a person was still too much to the young Ifere. When he got older and stronger, that wouldn't be a problem, however.
Frainer was unhappy. The Barbarian had come with the intent of hurting Drake, and he would never allow that. However, his companion told him not to hurt the attacker, so he didn't. Drake smiled when he saw that.
"So... Do you care to tell me what were you planning on doing?"
He raised an eyebrow as the Barbarian got up, this time holding his knife the right way, a cold glint in his eyes. He was big - as were all Barbarians - but he didn't look more than sixteen or seventeen to Drake. A small part of his mind wondered why he was nonchalant about the whole 'being attacked during the night' thing. Another part told him that he was much calmer since he started traveling. The reason was unknown.
Going back to the Barbarian, although he looked young, he was as fearsome as any of his kind. Muscular body, with ragged clothes barely covering it. A tattoo that covered his entire left arm, and part of his face. It looked like thousands of small triangles connected.
"You are in Tauron lands, invader. I can kill you."
"No, I think you got that wrong. I can kill you. I'm the one with a firearm. And you might be quick with that knife, but I guarantee you I am faster."
The Barbarian scoffed, an unyielding look in his brown eyes. Drake admired it. A person should never give up, no matter how dire the circumstances.
"Fleeting Stone fear no death."
Drake laughed, which surprised the Barbarian. He holstered his pistol, and sat down by the fire, then gestured for his attacker to mimic him. Fleeting Stone was somewhat shocked, and then he got angry.
"Don't underestimate me, invader! I will kill you one day!"
"I'm not underestimating anyone. I put down my weapon not because I look down on you, Fleeting Stone, but because I believe you won't attack me like a coward. Besides, before you could touch me, these two would tear you apart."
Following his hand, the Barbarian looked at Frainer and Kniivar, and his eyes shone. He had insisted on being the one to capture Drake mainly because he wanted to see those two unknown creatures closely. He had never seen Iferes like them.
"Invader won't kill me?"
"No. I am the one trespassing your land, so I am at fault."
"Then why you make ambush for Fleeting Stone?"
"Because I didn't want to be mistaken by a foe, and killed in my sleep. My actions proved me right, no?"
"I not kill you. I capture you to show to tribe I am adult now."
"Hahaha... Yeah, sorry to tell you that won't happen, buddy. But I will be glad to come to your tribe if you want. As a friend, not a prisoner."
Fleeting Stone stood still for a long time, looking at him cautiously. In the end, he sat down on the opposite side of the campfire, still holding his blade.
"How you know I was coming? Fleeting Stone best stalker of tribe."
"I believe you. I didn't hear a thing. But I felt you looking at me the whole day. A few things that happened the past couple days put me on the edge, so I am more sensitive to it now. I put some rocks under my blanket, to make you think I was sleeping. After that, I waited."
Fleeting Stone looked at him with admiration, and sheathed his knife. If Drake wanted to kill him, he would have done so a long time ago. Since he didn't, that meant he was probably telling the truth. Then, he turned back to the two Iferes, mesmerized.
"Are they yours?"
"Mine? No. I have a Spirit Contract with both of them, but they don't belong to anyone but themselves. Frainer and Kniivar respectively."
The Barbarian seemed confused about what he meant, and Drake thought if they considered Iferes tools or pets, not companions. Most people did. Sighing, he laid down again, ignoring Fleeting Stone.
"I'm going to sleep now. If you are still here by tomorrow, we can go to your tribe. If not, please tell your people I am just passing by, and that I mean no harm."