The waves lapped across the back of the turtle statue as it shot through the water, away from where I stood. Rathica's statue was hidden away in a compartment inside, an anchor point, as Rathica named it. I followed it with my gaze until it disappeared into the distance, then turned and looked at the Wirg mount.

"It's time to head out!"

I climbed on its back and directed it towards the denser jungle. I'd filled up my lifeforce, although the memory of enlarging my mindscape made me shiver. I'd failed again- but that didn't matter for the drain on my lifeforce, which had all but emptied out. Still, having over twenty-nine hours of relative safety from the poison made me feel a bit better.

The dark leaves rustled around me as I moved deeper into the woods. The wirgs paws lightly padded on the carpet of dead leaves, fungus growths, and occasional rotting branches.

Can't believe she can't just help me, I thought as I thought about the chaos poisoning. If someone had asked me a few years ago what I imagined gods and goddesses to be like, I wouldn't have thought they would be like Rathica and the others. They were, at the same time, more and less powerful than I'd imagined.

Thinking of deities got me thinking of Rap. My worry about it had decreased after having spoken with Rathica, but I still would have preferred having my mindscape to myself. It felt like an invasion of my privacy that didn't weigh up to the advantages, even if I didn't know all of those yet.

--

Days passed slowly as I moved through the forest, managing to dodge or evade the larger predators and monsters. From what Rathica had said, that wouldn't last though, as I was moving towards the more dangerous parts of the forest. I needed to reach something called the Hellhag Narrow, one of the few pathways through the forest that was used by caravans.

A day of painfully growing my mind-scape to drain my lifeforce and sleeping with half an eye open, my wirg mount stomped through a dense cluster of purple-leafed vegetation and onto a wide muddy road—old tracks led in both directions.

"Great… so now to find a caravan," I muttered as I tried to ignore the rumbling in my stomach. I'd finished my last rations the day before.

For a moment, my gaze lingered on the right. That path would lead back through the Howling Forest and towards Sart, the town I'd started in, what seemed like ages ago.

I wonder if Agga is doing alright, I thought.

With a weary sigh, I turned my gaze to the left, the path that would lead out of the Howling Forest and bring me to the north. After that, I'd need to find the fastest way back to Grammanite and eventually Steadfast. But that was a long way still, especially if I didn't find a caravan and food.

Luck, for the first time in a while, seemed to be with me.

Shortly before sunset, I heard a rumbling coming from behind me.

That had better be a caravan, I thought as I forced the wooden wirg into the dense foliage. Then I waited, watching along the tree-flanked path and hoping. A short while later, a dark shape appeared in the distance, and it quickly grew, turning into a massive, horned head. A smaller shape was moving beside it on each side, and before long, I recognized one of the massive charbulls flanked by riders.

Now, let's hope they have room for more, I thought as I moved out onto the road. I'd decided before to just keep the wirg around, as it would make running away easy if needed.

I wasn't even in the middle of the road when the caravan slowed down, the rumbling stopping slowly. Two of the riders moved to the head of the line, staring at me. They were too far to make out any details, but from what I could see, they were holding long things. A moment later, a soft crackling came from all around, followed by a snappy voice.

"Out of the way. This road belongs to the kingdom of Har."

I probably made a fool of myself as I looked around, then turned to the riders in the distance.

"Err… can you hear me?" I asked, wondering if this spell or whatever it was worked two ways.

"This is your final warning," the voice snapped again. It sounded upset, and I had no idea if it had or had not heard me.

"Listen. My caravan was ambushed by Fin'r Goblins a few days ago and have been wandering here ever since! I need food and help to get to-" I began coughing up the sob story I had cooked up while traveling.

"I can see your lips moving, but I can't read them this fast," a female voice interrupted me.

I slowly repeated what I'd said.

"Which caravan was that?" the first voice asked, and there was worry in it.

I'd tried to recall the name of the one in charge of the caravan or its name, but I couldn't recall. The only name I had was Eristin, the woman I'd met in Melsio.

"It was an elven caravan I'd joined as a guard. My contact was called Eristin. When we were set upon, they all vanished, leaving me and the rest to die!" As I spat out the words, I tried to add as much anger in it as I could. A second later, I wondered what I'd do if the ones I was talking to were elves.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Those bloody cuckold pointy-eared bastards," the woman's voice snapped. "Alright. Stay where you are, keep your hands where we can see them, and we will see if you're telling the truth."

"Will do," I said.

The rumbling began again, and I wondered about the ease of it all. If I'd been a bandit, they would have walked into a trap just from a sob story?

"Alright. Get off that thing, and leave the ax," a soft voice spoke from behind me.

Turning my upper body around as slow as I could, I saw three green-clad archers standing between the trees. They had arrows pointed at me, and from their grim looks, I knew this wasn't the time for jokes. With equal care as before, I climbed from the vengeful mount. As soon as my bare feet touched the ground, the archers surged forward, pointing arrows at me from three sides.

"Any odd move, and you get plugged," the lead archer said. Her black eyes were flicking across me, probably searching for more weapons.

"Well, he looks like someone that barely survived a goblin raid," one of the archers whispered.

"Shut it, Burl. We'll let the boss decide!"

Boss? As soon as I heard the word, my hair stood on end. Something must have shown because the archer hissed.

"Don't move. I'm warning you!"

I stayed put, waiting as a column of charbulls closed in on us. The two riders were a bit ahead of the lead bull, looking between me and the sides of the forest. One of the two was a woman dressed in a short brown robe with red marks on the sides that lay across her legs. Long black leather boots covered the rest, reminding me of something I'd seen in a movie.

"Nothing suspicious in the surroundings, Mahlri?" the other rider asked. He was a whip-thin man, with four long thin scars crawling from the side of his neck, across his jaw all the way to just below his eye.

"Nothing, Boss. It looks like he is on his own."

The man nodded, then looked at me, inspecting me closely before turning to the mount. His eyebrows rose.

"By Cinderage's smoking shit, what is that thing?"

He turned to me, a look of weary interest in them.

"It's a mount gifted by my Deity," I said. I'd decided it unwise to name Rathica, so I had opted for another way. "You might not have heard of him," I continued. "He is called Ulderion."

I'd not expected a response, but the female rider drew in her breath, causing the scared man to turn to her with a raised eyebrow.

"Galir, I've heard of him. He is one of those new Deities that's been popping up lately- the tree one! One of my sisters sent word that he made a massive grove in the Harrowing Hills. It's filled with things from legends, humans made of bark and leaves!"

The woman's dark eyes were looking at me with renewed interest now, and I hoped she didn't know too much about Ulderion. I was pretty sure she was either a mage or something similar.

I turned to the leader and shrugged. "I've had a run of bad luck- If you could lend a hand, I might be able to repay the favor later?"

The leader, Galir, frowned as he inspected me.

"I've heard rumors of trouble in your home country. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"Only a bit," I said honestly. "The ancient Grablon deity, Nimron, has returned…"

Galir nodded, then waved at the archers. They lowered their bows.

"Fine. You can come along, but I'd advise you to keep that ax on your mount. We'll keep an eye on you."

"Thanks," I said, then climbed back on my vengeful mount.

"What do we call you?" Galir said.

I almost answered the truth, but I caught myself and shrugged. If I told them my name, I'd have to explain why and run the risk of someone recognizing it. "Arms will do."

A surprised look came from the archers, but Galir just nodded.

The caravan began moving again, and Galir motioned me to join him at the front. I moved beside him. My Wirg was lower than his mount, but I could still look him in the eye. With a quick inspection, I found he had two thin belts with small sheets crisscross across his chest. Handles of knives that could slip in palm sat in them, and from the way he moved I'd say he could probably put one in someone's eye before the person had any idea what was coming.

A dangerous guy, I thought.

"So, tell me more about this Nimron", Galir said as his eyes began scanning the treeline ahead.

"I don't know all that much," I said. "He appeared a month or so ago and killed some of our leaders. Not everyone was happy with that, and some tried to leave. But he's a deity…" I shrugged, looking to see how Galir would react.

The man's lips curved down, and he spat to the side. "Aye. Those don't take well to criticism," he grunted. "I hope you didn't lose any family?"

I thought of Laurel, and I sighed. "No, but a friend did."

"Nothing you can do about it. They don't hold themselves accountable to anyone but other Deities," Galir said.

He continued asking me questions for the better part of an hour, wanting to know about the goblin raid and how I'd survived. I mixed what I recalled from the goblin raids on Sart with what I'd see when traveling through the Fin'r territory, and he seemed to believe it. Either that, or he was a better liar than I was.

By the time he was done, the sun had set, only a sliver of red showing above the left tree line.

I was wondering when we would stop for the night but decided against asking. Perhaps it was normal to continue without stopping, or there were special waypoints to rest. If I said the wrong thing, it would be apparent I didn't really belong to a caravan.

We continued through until it was the dead of night, and the only light came from the moons. A slight bend appeared ahead of us.

"Finally, about time," Galir said. "We'd lost some time before we met you, and combined with that, we lost two hours. I hate traveling in the dead of night."

I nodded, glad I could still see everything clearly. My night vision was probably the skill I'd used most since getting it. As we moved along the bend, a wall began appearing that divided the road. Thick stone blocks, held together by beams of wood, created a small fort that sat in the middle of the road. Massive gates stood open on both sides, giving a clear view through the open yard. Left and right had reinforced towers with small openings.

As I looked at the waystation with great interest, I suddenly saw a shadow move past one of the windows in the left tower. My adrenaline shot up, and I squinted, trying to make out more. A moment later, I saw something glisten in another window, metal reflecting in the moonlight. Making sure not to give myself away, I slowly turned to Galir, covering my mouth with an arm.

"Are you expecting someone there?" I asked.