At midday, they arrived at the western ferry landing by Dragon Lake. Melissa and Marcus kept their heads bowed and tried to sink back behind the two guards, escorting them to Stonehearth. The ferryman Leigh stood watching them by his unlit lantern dangling from a hook by the small house. He lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the sun and squinted at the oncoming party of four.

The two guards High Priest Alcon had sent with them bore the official red uniform of the cult and had the silver dragon emblem attached on the left side of their chests. Mel didn’t think Leigh would have a hard time guessing they were from Windbrook. She just hoped he wouldn’t recognize her and Marcus from the last time when they had stolen his ferry.

John walked up to Leigh, handing him a paper from Mr. Wickett, the townsman of Windbrook. Leigh took the paper in his hands and rolled out the scroll. He read the message and then looked at John and Bo with careful eyes.

“Four of you will travel across the lake?” Leigh asked.

“That is what the scroll says,” John said.

“Yes,” Leigh said. “But you can never be too careful these days. Last time I had someone from Windbrook try to board the ferry, they stole it. And a donkey from one of my best customers. We had to haul them back here using my safety system.”

He put a hand on the wheel next to him. Mel recognized the mechanism that Leigh had used to wheel the ferry back to the western landing. It was attached by a rope to the side of the ferryboat. If she’d been smart, she could have cut it last time. She hadn’t thought about that. It had all seemed so hopeless then, like the world had been against her and the dragons had made sure she wouldn’t escape her destiny.

But now, in the light of day, Mel could see there weren’t any dragons or destiny keeping the ferry from being stolen. Just a simple wheel and a rope that you could haul back the ferryboat with.

Leigh took a step to the side and leaned in for a closer look at Mel and Marcus. Mel had her red cloak draped over her shoulders and her hood drawn over her head. But Marcus hadn’t received one from High Priest Alcon and Leigh instantly recognized his face.

He pointed a fat finger at Marcus. “It’s you.”

He then brushed away Mel’s hood, revealing her face, and gasped.

“And you.”

“What’s wrong?” John asked with a leveling expression.

“These were the two I was talking about,” Leigh said. “They tried to steal my ferry and the donkey just a couple of days ago. I won’t let them cross Dragon Lake on my boat.”

Bo stretched out a hand to the ferryman and grabbed him in a handshake.

“I’m Bo,” he said. “And we are all from Windbrook. Me and John here, have been tasked with escorting these two youngsters to Stonehearth. There, we will leave them to continue on with the other students to Aldrion. They are going to study at Falden School of Magic. Impressive, right?”

Leigh didn’t look amused. He let go of Bo’s hand and crossed his arms over his chest, staring daggers at Mel and Marcus.

“You’re going to have to find another way across,” Leigh said. “I don’t do business with thieves.”

“Listen,” John said. “We will pay you double for the ferry ride, okay?”

Leigh shook his head, his expression like stone.

“I’ve wanted to go to Stonehearth all my life,” Bo said. “I’ve heard they have a special cake there. It’s supposed to be made with white fluffy bread, but sweetened and laced with butter. They flatten it on a table, then spread butter, sugar and cinnamon on top. Then they cut it and curl it into small buns, popping it into the oven to bake it. I’ve never had such a thing. The closest thing we’ve got in Windbrook is cinnamon and sugar apple slices, but it’s not even supposed to be close to as delicious as a cinnamon bun should be. Have you ever had one?”

Leigh looked at him with an incredulous look on his face, but Mel could see a small spit bubble form at the edge of his lips. His mouth was salivating.

Bo didn’t look like it, with his short and stout figure, but he was actually really smart. He had sized up Leigh the moment they’d gotten here and looked at his fattened belly. He knew he was a man who would love a nice baked bun.

“Yes,” Leigh said. “I’ve had it. Merchant’s travel past here all the time and I’m a man of the world after all. Not some young farmer’s boy that someone put a sword in his hands.”

Bo gave Leigh a small chuckle. “You are indeed more worldly than any of us. What would you say if I promised to bring a cinnamon bun back to you for the ride home?”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

A smile curled up Mel’s lips, and she hoped Bo was right, that Leigh would be swayed by his proposition.

Leigh's hands dropped to his sides, and he weighed back and forth on his feet, letting Bo’s proposition swirl around in his mind before he decided.

“Okay,” Leigh said. “If you give me double the pay, a cinnamon bun from Stonehearth and promise me these two won’t cause any more trouble. I’ll let you onboard of my ferry.”

“Deal,” Bo said and shook hands with Leigh.

Leigh got the ferry ready to leave. The scroll from Mr. Wickett had stated that the four of them wouldn’t need to be kept waiting for any other travelers. The ferry would leave as soon as they arrived at the landing and Leigh seemed to hold to that at least.

John rolled his eyes at Bo. “A cinnamon bun, really?”

“What?” Bo said. “It worked, didn’t it?”

John, Mel and Marcus chuckled at Bo’s negotiation tactics and Marcus gave him a soft push in the side. They boarded the ferry, this time with Leigh and his lantern in the middle. Mel tried to stand as far away from Leigh as possible, not wanting to accidentally cause anymore trouble and get thrown off the ferry.

Leigh lit the lantern in the center of the boat and the small shimmer it gave away was almost completely useless in the sunlight of midday.

“Why do you light that thing?” Marcus asked.

Leigh looked at him with an annoyed expression. Then he worked the handle at the center and the ferry moved across Dragon Lake at a slow and steady speed.

“It’s for good luck mostly,” Leigh said eventually. “Every time I light the lantern, nothing bad happens.”

“Before me, there used to be another man working the ferry, but he had such bad luck. Two times the ferry was stolen, another time it tipped over with an entire load of customers. The last time he got the ferry across to the eastern landing, but there darkness fell and he couldn’t make it back. He had no lantern.“

“He hitched a ride with the merchants he had helped across to Auburn Hills and in the pub I found him later that night. I bought the ferry from him after he had had a couple of beers and I promised myself I would never ride without a lit lantern. Not wanting the same bad luck he had had. If darkness falls or if something happens, at least I will have my lantern with me.”

Marcus nodded and shared a look with Mel. A smile crept up his lips and Mel had to bite her lip to not laugh at Leigh.

They turned their backs to the ferryman, and no one seemed to comment more than a nod or head shake at his story. Mel looked at the eastern landing coming closer and thought this was the furthest she had ever been from home. She turned to the north and saw the red piles of slag from the copper mine spread across the landscape, the Auburn Hills. She gazed to the south and there she could mostly make out trees, but somewhere in the distance, she thought she saw the tops of buildings in Stonehearth.

“How come you could change your destiny?” Mel asked.

Marcus turned to Mel and looked at her for a moment before answering.

“It wasn’t really a change,” Marcus said. “Just a small modification of the direction. Instead of protecting people in Windbrook or all the people with important destinies. I’ll protect you.”

“But do you think one can change their destiny?” Mel asked.

Her heart pounded in her chest now. Mel hadn’t realized how much this question and his answer to it meant to her. She needed him to say yes. She needed to know that somewhere along the line, she could change her own destiny. Escape her death sentence and never have to travel across the wastelands, looking for the dragons.

“No,” Marcus said, and Mel felt her heart sink. “But I think sometimes a destiny can mean something we didn’t expect.”

“What do you mean?” Mel asked.

Bo interrupted them, walking up to the edge of the ferry, looking out to the east where the mountains stretched before them.

“I agree with Marcus,” Bo said. “Me and John have the same destiny. It’s a common one, much like Marcus’. To protect the people of Windbrook. Now, I always thought that would mean I would stay in Windbrook for the rest of my life. Never travel across Dragon Lake or see the city of Stonehearth. Never taste sweet cinnamon buns. Who would have thought I would make this trip with a common destiny like that?”

“I don’t think High Priest Alcon knows everything like the dragons do,” John said. “There are some things that only the dragons know, and I guess that makes life interesting. Not knowing every turn the road will take. But I thank the dragons every day that I know where I’m going.”

“It’s something I always envied about the people of the dragon cult,” Leigh chimed in. “I mean, I don’t envy you a lot. It’s just that sometimes it seems nice to know your mission in life. We, born outside of the cult, don’t know what we should aim for. I bought this ferry business one night at a tavern in Auburn Hills. Now I’m a ferryman. Could I have been something else? Should I do something else in life? I don’t know.”

Mel looked down at her hands for a moment, thinking about her destiny with a new perspective. She knew where she was going. Did that make it better that she was supposed to travel into the dangerous wastelands?

No, it really didn’t. Just because she knew where she would die didn’t mean she liked it anymore.

“I don’t know,” Mel said. “I think for some, that can be true. I mean, all of you have good, solid destinies. To protect people. But for me, my destiny is not so easy. The only way I get to fulfill it is by finding something that’s been lost for centuries. Something no one can find, even the ones who have been given the same task before. The dragons aren’t meant to be found, and it can only be considered a fool’s mission.”

The group was quiet, but they didn’t look like they understood the point she was trying to make.

“And what about Dorian West?” Mel added. “He didn’t receive a death sentence like me, but his destiny isn’t exactly positive. How can people like us find meaning in the dragons’ wishes?”

Marcus put a hand on Mel’s shoulder and squeezed it.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But we have to trust that the dragons know what they are doing and that they are watching over us. You have to trust in the dragons.”

Mel thought that was her problem right there. She didn’t believe in the dragons. Not like Marcus did, not like Minnie did. She only believed in what was right in front of her. What she could touch, smell, or feel. Not something only existing in stories.

But she had heard something in the chapel though, something she could only describe as the dragons speaking to her. What did that mean?