Along the way, the colourful banners become more and more frequent, and even more elaborate. Strings of banners hung between the trees with paintings of fruits, depictions of different gods and monsters. It seemed that the closer he got to the water front, the more decorations had been hung up. Even many trees had been painted, some only a few feet high. Children's paintings. With every step, a new colourful sign or statue revealed itself, making the whole journey down the long gravel road a vibrant collage, however it couldn't shake the feeling he had that something was off. He felt watched.

As Landry gazed ahead, lost in thought, he didn't notice the figure approaching beside him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a short, hump-backed man, limping hurriedly to keep up. Turning his head to get a better look, he startled the man, who almost jumped in alarm. Without a moment to react, Landry felt a rough hand seize him by the waist and pull him into the shrubbery lining the road.

"What are you—" Landry began to protest, but the man's filthy hand clamped over his mouth, cutting him off.

"Shhh, sir," the humpback whispered, placing a stubby finger to his cracked lips. "I ain't here to harm ye, quite the opposite, in fact."

The hand fell away from Landry's face, leaving him staring at the man in bewilderment. "Who are you?" he demanded in a loud whisper, his mind racing to make sense of the odd encounter.

"Quiet, sir! Don't want them wrongers listenin' in do we?" Rubbing his face, the humpback limped over to the bushes at the side of the road, peering over. "Me master calls me Lug, so I's s'pose that's what ye can call me as well. At yer service, young sir."

"Who exactly are these 'wrongers', you're so concerned about, Lug?" he queried, crouching down and joining him in scanning the road from between the leaves himself. Asides from a few pigeons pecking away at somebody's discarded leftovers, there was only an ox-drawn cart slowly making its way up the hill towards the village square. The man at the reins had a drowsy expression plastered across his face. Probably been out early in the morning on the fishing boats. He doesn't look so 'wrong.' Who could Lug be referring to? The day was entirely inconspicuous.

With a snort and a grunt, Lug turned his head and opened his mouth to speak. To Landry's discomfort, he was staring into a mouth with a severe lack of teeth, with what did remain being rotten and discoloured. The warmth of the humpback's breath against his cheek was repulsive, and the smell that came along with it was truly indescribable. "I seen you with your wee telescope, peerin' over to the Wyrmwood... Them's bad trees, sir." With the sound of clattering horse shoes against the gravel, the two turned their head once more. A larger carriage was pulled, controlled by a smartly dressed man in a fine blue uniform, matching the blue of the tarp that covered the back end of it. "Yet them's people worse..."

Twin Trade Company. That's what was finely written on the tarp as the carriage rode by, with such fine stitching even visible from a distance. The carriage itself was of much finer quality than the one that had come before - for starters it was of greater size, and on the side visible to Landry, had a large round door with an engraving of a fine rose at the centre. A sight such as this had many villagers abandon their tasks and stare at it in awe, Landry's eyes were not the only pair glued to it. As he gazed on, he noticed the shine of a pair of eyes staring back at him through the window shutters. That gaze felt like an icy arrow, a thousand judgmental stares combined, as if the boogeyman was behind those shutters himself. In alarm, he pulled himself back into the shadowed sanctuary of the foliage.

"You might be right, Lug... Whoever was in that carriage gave me a look that made my stomach twist." However, when he turned his head the humpback was nowhere to be seen. "Where's he scurried off to?" He asked himself, wiping his dirtied hands against his cloak, smearing a light brown against the red. Pushing either side of the bush out of his way, he stepped back onto the road to the great alarm of a woman who he almost walked into. He was truly not building the most trustworthy reputation within the little village.

Regaining his composure, he caught sight of the carriage once more. His curiosity getting the better of him, he tailed it from a decent distance as not to look out of place - just about his day as any other villager might be. Who was inside? How did they see me so easily. It wasn't just that they had seen Landry—it was as though they had looked through him. He had felt violated by that stare, as if they had seen through his eyes and into his soul itself.

"I wonder why someone with such a fine carriage would journey all the way to such a place so out of the way?" he murmured to himself, his attention never leaving that carriage. The wind kicked up the top edge of the tarp, causing it to flutter as the carriage moved on. It was as if it were taunting him with a wave, and it only made him more determined to investigate. More spring in his step, the boy picked up speed to a light jog without realising, and made it obscenely obvious of his intention.

Why am I running after this carriage? He asked himself, but he already knew the answer. He knew he shouldn't—common sense told him to let it go. But something deeper, something almost primal, pushed him forward and urged him to know more. He'd heard so much about the Twin Trade Company, seen so many of its boats and convoys on the roads all around the Twin Continents. But this wasn't just any cart, it was one of the most luxurious carriages he had seen outside of Cleonth's capital, Cleon. It was not meant to be here, and just like him it was eerily out of place. This must be what those people felt earlier about me. However, he now looked far more out of place than that carriage.

"Slow down there, lad." He heard one of the townsfolk advise him, "It's a steep hill!" Another yelled. He didn't seem to hear, or rather in his stubbornness he was filtering out all noise except for the clatter of the horses hooves and the rumbling of the four large wheels against the gravel. Is it going faster as well? Even after he had begun to move more swiftly, the gap between him and the carriage hadn't shifted.

Crack.

With a strike of the whip in the coachman's hand, the horses themselves went from a trot to a canter, and the distance between it and Landry grew significantly even after he went into a sprint. As the wheels turned with greater haste, a large cloud of dust was created in their wake. Creating a sting in his eyes and a great tickle in Landry's throat, he rose his elbow to his mouth as he coughed, making his run all the more strenuous. With the loud sound of rattling and a distinct click as the carriage window opened, Landry noticed a gloved hand make its way out. Too large for a woman, so this must have been a man. A large man. However he wasn't empty-handed as Landry soon became aware of, turning a fine silver mirror in his direction and catching a glimpse of the lower portion of a mans face, sporting a salt-and-pepper beard. This was only for a moment however, before a diverted ray of sunlight was cast into Landry's eyes.

Yelling in surprise, he realised too late why the people before had warned him so much. Lucky as he was not to fall before, it had finally run out. With his sight temporarily stolen by that mirror, he had lost his footing and simultaneously caught the edge of his cloak on his other foot. A few mere moments later he finally regained vision, and instead of the carriage before him, it was a large patch of mud of which he tumbled into right after.

After slipping into the puddle, he was completely sodden head to toe and dripping with thick mud. Clambering out, Landry dug his fingertips into his eyes and began to scrape away the muck that had invaded them. Failing with his fingers, he pulled a flask from his belt and emptied the contents into his eyes as to wash the dirt out, leaving streams of clean skin across his face looking as if tears had made washed them out.

What a fool. He thought to himself, before setting down the path once more. Where did that carriage go? As he walked, he came to a fork in the road, with two other paths leading elsewhere than to the waterfront. He could flip a coin, because he was sure it didn't go straight. However, he had wasted enough time in the endeavour and reluctantly gave up his chase and with a sigh continued forward. Mal won't let me hear the end of this if she sees.

His first sight of the harbour was a large lighthouse that had previously been hidden behind the trees, painted a bright yellow that had faded with age, covered entirely on one side with thick vines, camouflaging well from certain angles. It looked in a state of disrepair, but was still in use as its light shone bright at the top even in the middle of the day. Walking past it, he was finally met with the wet and slightly slippery wooden surface of the start of the docks. Without his boots he felt every nook and cranny, and was more concerned about getting splinters over how he looked.

"Vagabonds," "rapscallion," "barbarian,", "thespians." All were amongst the remarks that Landry heard the people he passed mutter under their breaths, only making him feel all the more out of place but of course, he couldn't blame them. I'm a complete mess. Where is that ferry? With a newfound haste as to get away from the attention, he made his way across the docks to where the ferries were tethered, reading all the names which had mostly faded.

"The Drunken Chariot... Bessy... The Tadpole... Where is it?" He continued on, reading the names but none matching what Maliah had told him. "I thought she said the Sea Lugger would be here..." Giving up quickly as he was already in a bad mood from his state of cleanliness (or rather lack thereof,) he walked down and off the dock towards the water bank. Pushing through some branches of a bush to find a decently secluded area, he unclipped the buckle keeping his cloak attached to him and set it into the water. Taking one last look to ensure he was truly in privacy, he began to undo the buttons of his light blue tunic, and casting it into the water as well. Tossing his boots to one side, he wasn't entirely sure why he had brought them with him. There was no cobblers anywhere in this village, none that he had seen.

Taking a knee beside the water, he began to clean out the mud from his clothes, rubbing the fabrics together as it was all he had. He caught the reflection of himself, looking at the small scars that covered his well-toned chest and abdomen, a reminder of his upbringing before Varick. That was one thing he was grateful for, but that was a long time ago. Cupping his hands and throwing water into his face and onto his hair, he wiped himself clean. After a while, his clothes had gone from a deep brown to only lightly stained, but he continued to wash them.

"Are you aware that soap helps to wash clothes?" a voice came from behind him, an unfamiliar one. It was youthful, and wasn't particularly deep but was clearly the voice of a man of similar age to him. As he turned his head back, he saw a man with neatly styled blond hair, a lightly angular face and a small goatee to match. However, this man didn't fit in with this area either, as he wore a fine white robe with an ornate dark green cloak layered on top. A fine red belt with odd looking stone circles kept the fabrics in line with his body. Around the wrists, he had tied the sleeves down with golden ribbon.

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"You're an apprentice at one of the High Colleges, aren't you?" Landry asked, picking up his soaking clothes and hanging them over a branch. His body glistened in the sunlight from the water he had thrown over himself, he had nothing to dry himself off. "I've only ever seen you lot with only the white robe."

Raising the inner of his elbow to his mouth and coughing from the dust, the robed man began to explain himself. "Indeed I am. Not many recognise our uniform, well I am just a first-year initiate after all. You should see the faces of those who believe I'm a wizard." He chuckled, but Landry had seen his type before. The college apprentices were always convinced of their inflated self-worth, so he was rather surprised to see one here, especially one willing to travel through a bush. "You'd be correct, though. We usually aren't allowed to dress as fashionably, yet I'm a great distance from the place, so I'd rather not look so bland."

"I'm surprised to find an apprentice somewhere like this."

"I'm surprised to find anyone somewhere like this." He countered, looking down in dismay at the dirt that the bottom of his robe had collected.

"Why are you here, then?" Landry inquired, a growing suspicion rising within him. This man doesn't look like the reflection I saw... Could he have been in the carriage?

"Why, when those simple dockworkers and such were talking about a wild man covered in mud, I thought it might be someone worth studying... Well, your hunches can't all be correct, can they?" He said, with a smirk that only an apprentice or a nobleman could have. This man was probably both. Landry noticed a fine silver pendant around the apprentices neck, in the shape of a diamond. It reflected sunlight uncomfortably similar to the mirror had.

"So, it's ordinary for you to follow people?"

"It's ordinary for you to wash your clothes in a lake?" He folded his arms, a brow arched. Over his shoulder hung a satchel, slightly open enough for Landry to see the books and odd bits of paper he had inside. He didn't seem the type to be travelling with the Company, but he did appear out of nowhere. "My name is Orryn Ossilian."

Ossilian. This is Mal's contact? She sure knows how to pick them.

"You own the Sea Lugger?"

"Do I look like a sailor to you?" His smile enlarged, "My father owns that ship, and that's not the name anymore. Don't know if you noticed but this isn't the sea, she's the Lake Lugger now."

"Your father?" That must be the contact.

"Yes, my father. You're not here for him though, Mal. I must say I expected a woman, but I guess that makes you a Malcolm?" He stroked the small arrangement of hairs at the tip of his chin.

"You'd be right, I'm not her. The two of us need transport into the Wyrmwood." He says, before taking a breath and continuing, "I'll be honest, I was expecting the contact be older."

"The three of us. I intend to study that forest, and I'll travel along with you two to do that, for my own protection." Noticing the subtle dismay on Landry's face, Orryn put a playful hand to his mouth, "She didn't tell you?"

The muscles in his jaw tightening in annoyance, Landry couldn't hide his dissatisfaction. "She picks what she shares carefully, as well as what she doesn't." Taking hold of his dripping shirt and pulling it off the branch, he wrung it out over the water and slid into it - its cold and wet embrace sending a shiver down his spine. Yet he hadn't been truly comfortable this entire encounter.

"Journeying through those waters is dangerous, and expensive. Normally my father would forbid others, including me, setting foot on his precious boat-"

"Ferry."

" - Whatever, it floats." He mutters, normally it was him correcting, "However, with funding from Saint Lucent High College for my expedition, he's suddenly much more cooperative..." Landry could hear the slight sense of disdain Orryn held in his voice, especially when speaking about his father. Deciding not to pry, he extended his right hand to Orryn.

"Saint Lucent? You study in Zalafold then. I've spent some time there."

"Yes, it's a fine school." He absent-mindedly remarks, before looking down and noticing Landry's hand. Grasping it firmly he shakes it, pulling himself closer.

"If we're to travel together, it's best we get along. My name is Landry." This close, Landry was finally able to fully notice his eyes, they were almost unsettling with their bright yellow colouring, his pupils a small dot at the centre. I'm going to keep my eye on you...

"I suppose that'd be the best course of action, wouldn't it? Well, Landry, do you want to see the bo-" He stopped himself with a smirk, "The ferry?" With a nod towards the docks once more, he lets go of his hand and makes his way through the bushes. He hadn't the time to wait for a response.

"Apprentices..." Landry muttered to himself, pulling his drenched cloak off the branch and wringing it out as well, before pushing past the branches and heading towards the docks once more. It seemed people had forgotten about the crazed man who had first gone through them, as he seemed totally invisible walking past them - although they noticed the water collecting in his footsteps.

The wind cut through him like a frozen blade, causing him to clutch himself as began to shiver. Catching sight of Orryn's fine green robe, he squeezed and pushed through the small crowd between them - heading towards the very edge of the area. Stopping at the large wooden doors of what looked to be a warehouse, he stood next to Orryn who gently tapped the door with his knuckles three times. On the third count, one of the doors opened, revealing a tall man with a familiar head of blond hair. His father.

"Off with the fairies again, I bet." He grunted, pushing the door open further.

Shaking his head, his son walked through the door and Landry followed after, only to be stopped by the man's thick forearm. "Who's this?"

"A colleague of mine, he's joining us."

"He don't look like no apprentice, Orr." Turning his head and leaning in, Landry had no choice but to look at his rugged face, battered and sunburnt from years spent on the water. His left eye was hidden with a brown leather eyepatch, although the deep scar running under it told enough of what it hid.

"I'm not. I'm actually-"

"He's here to keep me safe, him and the other we're waiting for. They're also here to carry my equipment. There's plenty of room for them both." Orryn contested, speaking with a firmness that only the strict environment of his school could have fostered.

"As long as Saint Lucent's pays up, your friends can board." Lowering his arm, Landry walked past and the door shut behind. Inside it was dimly lit, with only a couple lanterns illuminating the room. It was particularly disorganised, with bits of fishing equipment, boat repairs and other such clutter dotting not only the several workbenches but also the floor. Orryn looked visibly embarrassed at the state of the place, to which his father seemed to almost enjoy.

"Not like your fancy school, is it?" He dryly chuckled, "No, you're back to the real world now."

"You could have at least swept the floor." Orryn complained, but he knew that was rather unrealistic for his father to do.

"Consider yourself mighty lucky I'm taking you across that water."

"I do, I do."

After a brief moment of loud silence, a soft knock came from the other side of the door. With an eagerness to escape the air of uncomfortableness, Landry reached out and pulled one of the doors open, with Mal standing on the other side.

"What happened to you?" She asked, a brow raised at his sodden and still rather muddy clothes.

"I tripped. You took a while."

Without answering, she slid past him and into the warehouse.

"I'd shut that door if I were you, there's some big shot from the Trade Company on the docks. We'd better leave before he realises he's got some unregulated guests on one of his ferries."

"What does it matter?"

"The Company is strict, and they don't tend to mess around when it comes to people without permission going into their areas... We'd likely get a heavy fine for just being in this warehouse, but going on one of their ferries - one of their trade routes - is something they'd lock you up for. Or worse."

"Don't be ridiculous, none of them higher-ups from the Company come down these parts." Orryn's father counters, but as he walks over and peers out the door for himself, he quickly pulls back inside. "Young lady here is right, I don't know why on Aurum he'd come here. I've only seen him in the pamphlets and such."

"Who's here?" Landry asks, with the slight hint of worry in his voice. Yet he knew that it must have been whoever was in that carriage. Without an answer, he walks to the door and leans out for a look, joined by Orryn beside him. They were met with an odd display of men in blue uniforms, nicknamed the 'constables', lining the several dockworkers up. As they did so, another man with a piece of parchment and a quill in his hands began to walk alongside the line, asking each person he passed something. He was a tall man, taller than anyone he stood around. He had long flowing black hair, and the finest clothing that Landry had ever seen - he wasn't sure if this was a company man or a king. However, when the man turned to look at something, Landry realised that this wasn't the first time he'd seen him. He had a finely trimmed salt-and-pepper beard.

"That's Lord Belrose!" Exclaimed Orryn, "He runs the entire Twin Trade Company, if he's here then something important is going on."

As his heart began to speed up, Landry pulled the door to a close. Turning on his heel, he saw how the Lake Lugger was already untethered and ready to leave, Mal discussing something with Orryn's father. Is he following me? Why would he? Because I chased his carriage? A thousand possible explanations ran through his head, a cataclysm of scenarios that were more dire than the last. Even with his back turned to him, Landry was reminded of that stare. It sent shivers down his body just as it had before, and the further he got away from that man the better.

"Come on, Landry. We need to get going." Orryn says, taking hold of him by the arm and dragging him onto the Lugger.

A clattering of boots became apparent outside and the voices of the constables became clear. They were still gathering people up, and it would only be a matter of time before they came knocking for each of them as well. People didn't dare question their orders, in fact it was an odd thing to listen to as it was as if the constables were talking to nobody. "Get in line!" They demanded.

With a thud, Orryn's father began to push round a large wheel towards the front of the ferry, which was the start of a complex mechanism which propelled it forward. To Landry it looked like it was meant to be pushed by more than one man, as there were several handles. However, Orryn's father was a large broad man, and seemed to manage on his own. Rather than sit back and relax, he and Orryn gave each other a look which might as well have been a form of telepathy, as they each started to help pushing it round resulting in it accelerating even more.

Finally the constables had become aware of what was happening - the ferry was no quiet vehicle. As the door swung open, a dozen blue uniforms came walking through and began to incessantly scream at the four of them. This stop when the large silhouette of Lord Belrose came into view, a dominating image that even worried Orryn's father.

"Use the hooks, men! I won't be undermined!" He yelled in a deep, yet eloquent voice. The Lugger was still picking up speed, and had only halfway left the warehouse. One by one, the constables took out a long tether with a great hook at the end from their belts, and began to throw them towards the ferry. Most weren't very good with their aim, but once one got hooked in, it gave opportunity for the rest and it wasn't long until the Lugger wasn't moving at all anymore.

"Oh, enough of this!" Mal exclaims, holding out her hands as threads of pure light emanated from her fingertips. As she whispered an incomprehensible language, she began to intricately weave the threads, until it left a pattern. Upon finishing her incantation, a powerful gust of wind escaped it - pushing back the constables with extreme force and causing them to lose grip of their tethers. It also equally pushed the Lugger out of the warehouse, but unsettling to Landry, as he looked back Lord Belrose remained where he stood. Unfazed by the magic that had been used against him and his men.

As the whirring off the ferry replaced the complaints of the constables, and the distance between them and the dock became greater there was only one thing that stole their attention. The ridiculously humungous Wyrmwood trees, in fact it was a strain on their necks just to try and see the tops. Landry felt like an ant in a puddle, completely insignificant. However they were still far from the Wood itself, as Lake Laga was vast and they'd likely only reach it by the morning. As night descended on the land, the boat itself looked caught between two worlds, or as if it were travelling through the cosmos themselves. Nevertheless, their destination awaited them.