Hero's Road, Humanoid Territory

The next day arrived after very little sleep.

It wasn't flashbacks of the elf assaulting him, fear over the uncertain future, or even nightmares about the Culling that kept Hex awake. No, somehow this was worse.

Hex rolled over and pulled the bearskin blanket higher over his head. There was something about the skeletons' lack of true nasal cavities that resulted in an evening lullaby that resembled stones being ground to dust on rusted metal blades.

And I thought Dracala was unbearable.

Calcio had been the worst, by far, causing the entire wagon to vibrate as he leaned against it in slumber. Somehow, none of the other skeletons or zombies seemed bothered.

Regardless, they were back on the road now in Humanoid Territory. Despite only being a short distance from the bridge with the upside down rain, Hex would never have guessed this would be the same world as his own.

The trees were a different breed, needle-like compared to the ruffled leaves back home, and scented of pine. There were far fewer of them too, replaced by stone-patched criss-crossing roads intersecting the Hero's Road and large inns that could house armies. Signposts littered these intersections, directing travelers to different locations he'd never heard of. Ogre's Grotto. Whispering Falls. Lavarice Bay. And New Valour, of course.

"Remember," Calcio had announced as they packed up to begin the journey that morning, "if we come across any Humanoids, bow your heads. Don't make eye contact. Just let them pass. Especially the humans. Never look a human in the eye."

Hex chuckled, thinking it was a joke, but everyone stared at him.

"Brains..." Brains said with a disappointed tone.

"Sorry," Hex said, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I've met a few Humanoids. We even had two living in our village, but I never treated them like this." There's only one I probably should have... He shared a look with Dracala, thinking back to the eld in Gulliver's Cave—the reason her wing still hung in a sling.

Calcio had come up to him and placed a gentle, boney hand on his head. "I understand that's what you're used to, Hex. It's rare to see a Humanoid farther south where we're all from, so I'm not surprised there's a misconception. Few of them are interested in questing that deep into Monster Territory, but those who do tend to be more accepting, as you said. Especially if they decide to settle down among Monsters.

"But things are different up here. Many of the Humanoids from outside New Valour have never even seen a Monster before—especially outside the Gates. Trust me. I've been coming up here for decades. They view us... differently."

"Like fodder..?" Hex asked.

"Precisely."

After that, he'd remained quiet most of the trip, listening to Calcio regale them with stories from his time at the Academy and beyond the World Gates—many of them about his dismemberment and subsequent reconstruction, and even more about the dangers of crossing paths with orcs, trolls, elves, dwarves, and humans.

Hex still couldn't buy it, though. There's no way all Humanoids are like that. Ruben is one of the most caring beings in the world, let alone among Humanoids. There are mean bears, mean wolves—even mean slimes somewhere, probably. That doesn't mean they all are. There have to be kind Humanoids too, even up here.

Calcio was exaggerating to make a statement. He liked the old skeleton, but he was so consumed by deference and pacifism.

The sky abruptly faded purple, but returned to blue again so fast Hex thought he might have been seeing things.

Until the world shuddered.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Trees lining the road shook so hard they lost bunches of leaves by the handful. A few branches even fell. Pebbles vibrated on the ground like little bouncing marbles.

The donkey brayed and stomped its feet, stopping the cart.

Then it was over.

"Never fear," Calcio said, brushing some fallen leaves off his seat. "Just the Rift acting up."

Hex had felt the tremors from the Rift back home, but never like this. The sky had never changed color. Usually no one even acknowledged them, they were so minor.

"That was strange, right?" Dracala whispered to him.

He nodded.

"Different up here, eh?" Skel said. "The closer to the Rift, the more intense the quakes."

"What was with the sky, though?" Hex asked.

Skel shrugged. "Things are weird. We just saw rain going upside down yesterday."

True. That doesn’t make it any less bizarre, though. I wonder if that’s going to be a regular thing around here.

Eventually, Calcio convinced the donkey to continue the journey. Hex sat back and tried to relax, but it felt like his goo was still jiggling.

He sighed. Slimes were clearly not designed with Rift quakes in mind.

Several hours had passed before Calcio turned the cart east, following a sign toward New Valour.

Most of the ride consisted of Skel joking around with his friends. Hex listened in, participating when he had something worth saying. Skel was clearly the ringleader of this gang. It seemed like everyone wanted to impress him or talk to him, except Proxima, who clearly knew him better than the others and didn’t buy into his charades.

"So how high can you fly, Dracala?" Skel asked.

Dracala smiled. "Higher than those trees. I’ll show you when I’m healed."

"I can’t wait. We don’t have many flying Monsters back home."

"Where do you live?" Hex asked.

"Down by Bonebreaker’s Tomb. There are plenty of spirits, but I don’t count hovering as flying."

"Hovering is definitely not flying," Dracala agreed.

Hex was about to comment on the fact that Skel and his friends were completely fine living among spirits, but the sound of rumbling interrupted him.

Another quake? So close together?

It was not.

Instead, it was something far worse.

An enclosed boar-drawn carriage pulled up behind their wagon, ornamented with large tusks and spikes. The orc driver snapped his whip at one of their wheels and Calcio quickly steered the donkey to pull their wagon off the side so they could pass.

Calcio stood in his seat, removed his hat, and bowed his head to the orc.

As the carriage transited past, its windows swung open, revealing the sneering faces of young orcs—likely prospective students at the Academy as well.

Then apples appeared in their hands.

The first one missed Calcio's head by a hair. The other seven did not. And the last throw hit him square in the eye socket so hard he fell backwards off the wagon.

The donkey simply stood there chewing on dirt as several stray apples hit him as well.

The orc kids hooted and hollered as their carriage sped up and ahead. A dozen boar riders clad in black armor clambered after the carriage without so much as a sidewards glance. The lead rider carried a raised spear with a black flag. Emblazoned upon it was in image of a clenched red fist dripping blood.

Hex hopped off the wagon with a few other skeletons to check on Calcio. He was half in a puddle of mud, half propped against a rock. A bruise covered the bone around his eye, and his entire left arm had fallen off and was laying in the mud beside him.

"Calcio, are you alright?" he asked.

"Clumsy me," he said, feigning a smile. "Just kids having some fun is all."

One skeleton picked up Calcio's arm and propped it into place without a word, as if this happened every day.

"Just angle it... Yup, right there," Calcio instructed. The skeleton shoved, and the shoulder popped back into place. Calcio pinwheeled it a few times, the ball of his humerus grinding in the socket. "Good as new!"

He jumped back into the driver's seat, completely unfazed.

Hex stood there, staring at him. Just kids having some fun? Gnoll farts! This is the elf all over again. Harassment. Physical Assault.

But from the looks on everyone else's faces—from the orcs in their fancy carriage, to his skeleton and zombie companions, to the boar-riding warriors, to Calcio himself—it was completely normal. Expected even.

"Well don't just stand there all day, Hex," Calcio exclaimed, an incongruous pep to his voice. "We have an Academy to get to!"

Everyone else had returned to the wagon but him. He stood a moment longer, still in mild disbelief.

"It's always been this way, hasn't it?" he asked the trees looking down on him. Monsters had always been 'less than' in the eyes of the Humanoids. They were stronger, they had magic, they were more sophisticated. To them, we're no better than animals.

He glanced at the large deer ahead of their rickety cart. He'd never considered the creatures of the world to be intelligent, to have their own lives and dreams.

That's exactly how Humanoids viewed Monsters.

He'd been isolated in his village for too long, blind to the reality of the world that was suddenly crashing down all around him.

That elf in the cave wasn't the exception, but the rule. How could I not know?

This was how it had always been. And always would be.

"C'mon, Hex," someone called.

He got back into the wagon and they rode on.

Heat burned in his gooey center, the tiniest flame of disdain forming there.

It's not right.

But there was nothing he could do to change the way things were.

If the past few days were any indication, the Academy was going to be insufferable.