After three days in the bush, Peter was exhausted. It would be great if he could blame his wretched state on whatever had happened during his trip to Arenia, but the truth was that the potion had left him feeling better than he had in years. No, his current condition was the product of being in good, old-fashioned terrible physical shape.
“You need to rest?” Beth said. “You don’t look so good.”
Peter waved her off. “No, I don’t think so,” he lied. He didn’t want to admit just how much better Beth was handling this experience. Especially the rolling hills they’d been climbing for the last couple of kilometres. “Just not used to all this walking.”
“Well, you let me know. I’m fine with stopping if you are,” Beth said. Her eyebrows steepled, and her head tilted in a way that Peter easily translated into Sure, honey. When you stop being so macho, let me know and we can stop.
Actually… now that Peter thought about it, Beth didn’t have her normal playfulness.
“What about you? How are you doing with all this hiking?” Peter asked.
Beth grimaced. “Now that you mention it, my feet are a bit sore.”
“Let me see,” Peter said. He got some mild protestation from Beth, but she let him remove her boot and sock, revealing a multitude of blisters.
“Holy hell, hon!” he said. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Beth cringed. “You seemed okay, and I didn’t want to slow us down. It’s not like either of us are hikers, so I assumed your feet were just as bad as mine.”
“No, they’re…” Something Peter had read in his Tome tickled at his memory. It hadn’t seemed like a big deal at the time, but now he was reconsidering that position.
Summoning his Tome, Peter opened it to the SKILLS section.
HIKING
The practice of getting from Point A to Point B by using your feet. If you can walk and don’t have this Skill, you need to seriously reconsider your life choices.
Current Skill Level: 19 (Tier-I: Hobbyist)
Tier-0 Bonus: None. It’s walking.
Tier-I Bonus: Increased foot durability when hiking. (MAX)
Tier-II Bonus: Reduced chance of injury from poor footing. (9/10)
Tier-III Bonus: Unknown
Tier-IV Bonus: Unknown
Tier-V: Grandmaster spot occupied. We think. She walked off into the woods one day and nobody has seen her since.
“What level is your Hiking skill?” Peter asked.
Beth consulted her Tome. “It’s up a bit. Level 9. Why?”
“That explains it. The Tier-I bonus is increased foot durability. I’ve been Tier-I since we arrived, so my feet haven’t been too bad.”
“Unnngh… I feel like such an idiot!” Beth groaned. “At least I’m not far from that bonus.” She bent down and gently squeezed her feet, wincing at the slight pressure. “What I wouldn’t give for some moleskin right now.”
Peter grinned. “Careful what you wish for. For all we know, people around here might literally skin moles for that purpose.”
“Ew,” Beth said, cringing. “Enough of THAT conversation. Help me over to that log so we can take a rest.”
Peter picked up Beth’s boot and helped her hop over to a log that lay near a gap in the trees where it overlooked the valley. They had been following a game trail through the woods, but a half-hour ago it had veered up the edge of a steep slope, resulting in some tough hiking. On the bright side, the path had rewarded them with several gorgeous views of the emerald forest sprawling before them.
Beth took Peter’s hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. “It’s funny. Most of the time this place seems so strange. Then you get a view like this, and it could almost be home.”
As if on cue, a winged lizard, maybe 2-metres long from nose to tail, flew out of the trees and blew lightning at a bird high overhead. The bird spasmed and dropped from of the sky, only to be snatched out of mid-air by the lizard before it descended back into the trees with its meal.
“And just like that, we’re back to being strange,” Beth said, gripping Peter’s hand tightly.
“Good Lord,” he said, staring at the place where the lizard had disappeared. “Um… why don’t we talk about something else?” His eyes darted around until they locked on a distant fog bank they’d seen a few times on their journey. “What do you think about that fog? I’ve noticed it a few times—it doesn’t seem to move a whole lot. Do you think it’s coming in off the ocean?”
Beth followed his gaze and nodded. “It seems likely, doesn’t it? I can’t think of any other reason why it would sit still like that. Should we head towards it? We probably have a better chance of finding a settlement on the coast than in the middle of a forest.”
“Makes sense, and I certainly don’t have a better idea,” Peter said. “Let’s rest a bit longer and then head that way.”
A snort of laughter burst from behind them, causing Peter and Beth to spin around and discover a woman in mottled brown leathers sitting on a rock only a few metres behind them. She sat in a relaxed posture, feet stretched out and crossed in front of her. She had the sun-weathered and fit appearance of someone who spent a lot of time working outdoors, and it made her age a bit tough to place. Given her long, gray ponytail though, Peter placed her age somewhere in her late 50’s, if not older. Harmless, if one ignored the quiver on her left hip and short sword on her right, with an unstrung bow upright in her left hand that was probably a bit taller than she was when standing. The wiry strength of the weapon seemed a perfect match for the narrow-faced woman to whom it was attached.
The woman shook her head and chuckled. “Heading towards the fog would be your worst decision yet, and you’ve been making some terrible ones, so that’s saying something.”
Peter glanced around to see if more people were about to emerge from the woods, but from the looks of things, the woman was alone. “Who the hell are you? And what’s wrong with heading to the ocean?”
The woman winked. “Nothing at all. Except that,” she pointed at the fog, “is not the ocean.”
“Of course not. It’s fog, and I don’t see why we wouldn’t head that way,” Peter sniped. He knew that he was being difficult, but he was annoyed that they had been so easily snuck up upon.
The woman shrugged. “Fine, have it your way.” She stood up and walked towards the forest.
“Wait!” Beth called. “We really could use your help.” Beth glared at Peter and lowered her voice. “Do you think this trip is going well? We’re almost out of food and neither of us has a clue what we’re doing. Even if we caught an animal, we couldn’t cook it until one of us works out how to use that flint and steel. As it is, we’re spending every night flirting with hypothermia.”
Peter grimaced, but he couldn’t ignore the truth of his wife’s words. Neither of them was an outdoors person. Beth had been a social worker and later a teacher, and while Peter ran an orchard, that was a far cry from being a camping enthusiast. They couldn’t afford to turn down help.
“I apologize,” he said to the woman. “It’s been a lot of hiking and bad nights, and it’s left me pretty cranky. We’d appreciate it if you didn’t leave.”
The woman grinned and returned to her rock. “I wasn’t gonna leave you. I just figured I’d wait here until you came back.” She plunked down and gestured at the log they were sitting on. “This is the third time you’ve enjoyed that view.”
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“What?” Peter said.
“You’ve been walking in circles, kid.”
Peter looked out over the view again. Come to think of it, it did seem familiar, but he could have sworn…
“Trust me,” she said. “I spotted you two days ago, scaring off all the game, and figured I’d see what you were up to. It was pretty clear you had no idea what you were doing, and now that I’m speaking to you, I can see why. How the hell did two singl’ds end up way out here in the woods?”
Beth and Peter looked at each other.
“Actually, we’re married,” Beth said.
The woman looked confused for a moment and then burst out laughing. “Oh wow, that was well done! Not many people can tell a joke with such a straight face. That’s the key to selling it, for sure.”
Peter gritted his teeth. He understood that his weight and Beth’s appearance made them appear an unlikely couple—a gap that had only grown since he’d stopped doing physical labour on the farm—but to be openly mocked by a woman who didn’t even know them?
Fortunately, Beth beat him to a response. “It’s hardly a joke,” she snapped. “We’re not single; we’re married. And quite happily so.”
The woman stopped laughing. “Wait, you think I’m talking about… oh, that’s rich!” She shook her head. “You’re singl’ds. Single digits?” They stared at her blankly, and she rolled her eyes. “Your Renown! You’re both below Level 10.”
“Oh,” Peter said, finally understanding. “You can tell what our Renown is?”
The woman’s expression shifted to confusion. “How could you not know how to check a person’s Renown? Just make eye contact and think about it! Everyone knows that.”
She shook her head and muttered under her breath, “What the hell is wrong with these people?”
Peter ignored her, focusing instead on making eye contact as she had described. Instantly, information jumped into his head.
Name Unknown
Species: Unconfirmed (Human suspected)
Renown: Level 39 (class/profession unknown)
Base Stat Average: 24.1
“Is Level 39 high?” Peter asked.
The woman gaped at him. Then her mouth snapped shut, and her eyebrows rose.
“No, they couldn’t be...” she muttered. She stood and walked over, looking them up and down. She grabbed Peter’s hands and looked at them, then did the same with Beth. “You’ve at least got the scars of a farmer, or a former one,” she said to Peter. Then she looked at Beth. “But your hands are younger than you look.”
“I moisturize,” Beth said.
The woman snorted. “Don’t say that to a laundress, or you’re liable to get slapped.” Her eyebrows pulled together, and she looked back and forth at them, then up and down. “I’m going to ask something that will probably sound stupid, so don’t laugh: Are you Legends?”
“In my own mind,” Peter said, chuckling.
“No, I mean do you come from another world?”
The question stopped Peter’s chuckling real quick, and he glanced uncomfortably at Beth. It was brief, but it was enough to cause the woman to yip and slap her hands together.
“I knew it!” she said. “From the day I first saw you struggle with a campfire, I knew something was off. Most children have that Skill unlocked before they’re six years old. Meanwhile, you’re out here in the middle of nowhere, banging a flint and steel together without a stitch of char cloth in sight.”
“Char cloth?” Peter said.
“I didn’t realize there was an actual term for us,” Beth said. “Are there a lot of people from Earth here?”
The woman’s eyebrows darted up. “Gods no. You’re certainly the first I’ve ever met, and I’m no spring chicken. I’ve heard the stories, of course, but who hasn’t? That’s why you’re called Legends, after all. Does anyone else know about you?”
“No, we haven’t seen anyone else since we arrived,” Beth said.
“Good. That’s not information you want to share.”
“Why not?” Peter said.
She snorted. “You’ve got a pretty optimistic view of the world if you don’t think there are folks who’d take advantage of a person who can’t die.”
It was a simple observation, but Peter didn’t have trouble imagining ways in which that kind of knowledge could be leveraged against them.
“Understood,” he said. “We’ll keep it to ourselves. At least until we become stronger and can hold our own.”
The woman shook her head. “Look, you seem like nice people, so I’m going to help you get to civilization if that’s where you want to go. I’ll even teach you a few things. But the first lesson is that there’s always, always, someone out there who’s more powerful than you.”
Peter shrugged. “Someone has to be the toughest, right?”
“Yes, but until you can beat a primal dragon in a fair fight, that person isn’t you, understood?”
Peter didn’t know what a primal dragon was, but it certainly sounded bad. “Okay, I get your point.”
“I’d hoped you would. Now, introductions. My name is Eliza Grey. Where are you two headed?”
“Peter and Beth,” Peter said, gesturing to the pair of them. “We need to get to Palmyre. We were given a house there when we were sent over.”
“Good. I was actually headed there when I found you.” She paused and did a double-take. “Did you just say you were given a house? Not many folks in Palmyre own a whole house.”
“It’s not just us,” Peter said. “Something went wrong, and we got separated from our kids and Beth’s grandfather when we came over. The intention is that everyone will meet up in Palmyre, and the house is our compensation for that mistake.”
“Ah, okay. Lots of questions about what you just said, but let’s make sure I heard you right. You have a whole family of Legends?” When they nodded, Eliza shook her head. “That is a quiver full of strange. I’ve never heard of such a thing, even in our oldest myths.”
“Strange as it may be, we have to get to Palmyre as soon as possible,” Beth said. “We don’t even know if our family is alive, and I’m worried sick.”
“Don’t you have a familial bond? That should at least tell you if everyone is alive.”
She said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, but Peter still scowled. He was pretty sure that annoying lizard had mentioned something of the sort, but it hadn’t occurred to him that he could use it to check up on the others.
As with most things, it seemed his Tome was the place to look, so he took it out and thought about the bond. Once again, it caused a new tab to appear that hadn’t been there before.
Why can’t it just be there to begin with? Peter grouched to himself. He opened up the tab and scanned through it.
FAMILIAL PARTY
Jack Milsom (permission not yet granted)
Species: Human
Renown: Unknown
Base Stat Average: Unknown
Status: Normal
Beth Sullivan (permission not yet granted)
Species: Human
Renown: Level 5 (unclassed)
Base Stat Average: Unknown
Status: Normal
Peter Sullivan
Species: Human
Renown: Level 4 (unclassed)
Base Stat Average: 17.4
Status: Normal
Angela Sullivan (permission not yet granted)
Species: Human
Renown: Unknown
Base Stat Average: Unknown
Status: Normal
Mark Sullivan (permission not yet granted)
Species: Human
Renown: Unknown
Base Stat Average: Unknown
Status: AT RISK - WHEREABOUTS UNKNOWN
Turkaletta Milsom-Sullivan (permission not yet granted)
Species: Error
Renown: Unknown
Base Stat Average: Unknown
Status: Error
“‘At Risk?’ What does ‘At Risk’ mean?” Beth gasped. She had opened her own Tome and was staring at it in concern.
“And who’s Turkaletta Milsom-Sullivan?” Peter added.
“Peter!” Beth said. “Mark is listed as ‘At Risk!’”
“Of course he is,” Peter said. “He’s stuck on this god-forsaken planet with no medication, no survival instinct, and, to be honest, no mental fortitude. If he weren’t at risk, I’d assume this thing was broken.” Peter waved his Tome at her to emphasize his point.
“No, your wife is right to be concerned,” Eliza said. “Your Tome wouldn’t say ‘At Risk’ if death wasn’t an imminent possibility.”
“Imminent?” Peter said in surprise. That was not what he had expected. Just what was Mark experiencing right now? “Is there anything we can do?”
Eliza got a pensive look. “That depends. Does it say where he is?”
“It just says ‘Whereabouts Unknown,’” Beth said.
The blood drained out of Eliza’s face. “You must be mistaken.”
Beth shook her head. “No, that’s what it says.”
“Mine too,” Peter added.
Eliza wavered as though her legs had gone weak and sat back down on the stump. She made a gesture with her left hand, forming what looked like the “OK” sign, placing it on her forehead, heart, and lips; then muttered something Peter couldn’t hear.
“What is it?” Peter said when Eliza didn’t speak.
Eliza hesitated, then said, “A Primal.”
Beth and Peter waited for more, but that was it.
“What’s a Primal?” Peter said.
“They’re…” Eliza’s lips pursed. “They are things that predate the birth of this world. Of all worlds. Gods and demons. Dragons and Kraken. The Primal Creatures who were born alongside time itself, and the Primal Forces that define the building blocks of reality.” She shuddered. “Only something older than the Tomes could block their words, and if a Primal is the reason your son is at risk, there is truly nothing you can do about it. Your best hope is that he dies quickly and is reborn somewhere far away from whatever has him.”
Beth shook her head. “But—”
Eliza surged to her feet. “Nothing can be done,” she snapped, immediately looking chagrined. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry. It’s just that the Primals are not only immensely powerful, but they don’t think as we do. For all we know, simply talking about Mark’s situation could be turning its attention towards us. I do not want the attention of a Primal. Nor do you.
“If you want to help your son, get to town. When he’s reborn, he’s going to need your help getting through the aftermath of whatever trauma he’s experiencing.”
Peter put his arm around Beth’s shoulder. She turned to him and whispered, “We might not have rebirths.”
“I know,” he whispered back. “But Eliza is right. All we can do is keep moving. Maybe he has another life remaining, and if not, there’s still Angela and Jack to think about.”
“What does that mean?” Beth said sharply, fire rising in her eyes.
“For god’s sake, Beth, it means we have to continue forward, no matter what happens,” Peter said. “You know I’m not saying Mark is expendable.”
Beth took a couple of deep breaths and nodded. “Sorry. I know that’s not what you’re saying.” She turned to Eliza. “Please, let’s go.”
Eliza nodded somberly. She helped Beth back into her boots, even doing something to help with the blisters, then led them into the forest. Beth and Peter followed, lost in their own thoughts, but if they’d looked closely, they would have seen Eliza glance toward the fog with fear in her eyes.