The morning sun burned fire into the sky off to their left as the three worked down the dirt road. The trail was weather-worn, and deep ruts evidenced the many who had passed that way. Ruthaivan itself had been fortified much in Aerendir’s slumber, and he marveled at the mudbrick base to walls with the new spikes atop. The town was becoming more city, and many more people gathered there.

They left behind most of the bustle many leagues ago, but it still echoed in Aerendir’s head, a reminder of how long he’d been away, driven deep into the soulsleep. He could remember only the tiniest fragments of the time in that liminal world, some vague emotions, and a few communicated thoughts between him and his brother. The final infinity felt much longer in the total solitude after Siegyrd woke.

Siegyrd spoke, interrupting Aerendir’s ruminations, “No major leads, but it is safe to say that we should expect more dangers the farther we move south and east. The wildlands will be wilder than ever without the normal people to hunt and patrol.”

Mareth spoke, “If we are to understand some of the stories, a few days ride, so a few more on foot, we will begin to see the burnouts and smell the scent of destruction. There was a forest fire apparently on the edge of the wildlands.”

“Do they think it dragon caused?” Aerendir’s deep voice echoed.

“Some did, some didn’t. There was very little rain even in Ruthaivan, and the refugees reported almost none where they had come from.” Mareth said.

Their feet plumed dust with every step, and Siegyrd imagined it had been long indeed since this earth had drunk its fill.

“How many will starve?” Aerendir asked.

Siegyrd paused in the road for half a step and then continued, “Some, perhaps. Mathin and his people have stores, even Tivaer has some stores, though Mathin expected they would gouge prices for food. Their walls are even greater than when we slept. Mareth and I visited in our investigations since many refugees bypassed Ruthaivan to go straight there.”

“From the looks of the travelers, we should expect little to no towns anywhere farther than where we have just left. Many drove their herds with them.” Mareth said.

The hills of the region rolled in a kind of lazy static wave with high grasses all around. Browns and beiges and pale yellows dominated the landscape. The three trudged for a long way to only the sound of crunching boots and winds blowing through the golden grasses.

“He wanted to come with us.” Mareth said, breaking the silence.

“Mathin you mean?” Siegyrd asked.

“Aye. He helped me train, but I think he was training himself as well, hoping to reach a strength to keep up with us.”

“Hmmm.” Aerendir said, “Another might have been welcome though…”

A sound in the low grasses stopped him. Siegyrd heard it too and stopped, but Mareth kept on.

“He would have been a great help. Physical and capable, and not at all bad with a bow.”

Siegyrd turned to Mareth and gave him a look then put a finger over his own lips. Mareth stopped too.

A gust of wind blew through the grasses causing a rippling wave of golden flow. Aerendir sniffed the air, and turned to face his right just as a great maned lion leapt from the tall grass toward Mareth. Siegyrd was closer, but Aerendir was faster, still neither would reach Mareth in time. The lion’s roar split the air around them as it pounced for the wizard.

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There was a hint of fear and a hint of a smile on Mareth’s face as he smoothly drew his clubstaff with his left hand and swung at the lion’s jaw, releasing the staff, and then rolled out of the way, narrowly missing the lion’s claws that scraped at empty air. The lion landed, spun and started to pounce a second time, but it was enough time for Aerendir and Siegyrd to be there in front. The beast faced three men. It growled low and hunched itself as it prowled sideways, trying to gain an angle. It was shook its head and worked its jaw.

“Your training has paid off, wizard. Well struck.” Aerendir said, pride clear in his voice.

Mareth was in a fighting stance but soon transitioned to a song which he worked through in a matter of moments.

The lion stepped softly, silently, but in full view. Its eyes darted between the men, one to the next to the next then back to the grasses. It feinted to pounce then instead shifted to leap into the grasses where it could hide, but Mareth’s spell was faster as he extended his right hand and a purple circle of light appeared beneath the creature and fired up walls of force around it. It ran right into the edge and snarled, then circled, swatting at the force around it.

“A binding song, interesting.” Siegyrd said.

Mareth closed his hand into a loose fist and the walls of force began to fold inward and wrap around the lion’s form. It scrambled and whined and tried to stop it, but was held fast. The force wrapped tightly like a second skin and pressed the lion into a laying position, not unnatural, but not what the lion had wanted.

“It must have been very hungry indeed to try with three of us here. Look at it. It’s barely skin and bones.” Aerendir said.

Mareth moved forward, still holding out his right hand, the binding held fast, and he inspected the creature. Its ribs protruded far, and its face was sunken. He twisted his hand slightly, and the force surrounding the lion’s head and neck loosened substantially letting it move more freely.

Siegyrd and Aerendir look at each other then at Mareth who seemed to have the issue well in hand. Mareth spoke, “Siegyrd do you have a bit of ration, please?”

Siegyrd understood and took off his pack to grab a couple strips of dried and salted meat. He handed it to Mareth who took it with his left hand while he held his spell with his right and approached closer to the lion.

“I’m not food for you, my friend. Here is some though.” He tossed the scraps within reach of the lion’s head, and it snatched them out of the air and devoured them. The rage and desperation in its eyes was largely gone, replaced by hunger partially sated and a look of pleading.

“We don’t have enough food to feed a lion on the trail, wizard.” Aerendir said.

“No, we don’t. Here’s hoping this will give him just enough strength to get to his next meal, a little nudge.” Mareth replied.

Aerendir sighed, “It might be kinder to put him out of his misery.”

Mareth held his spell and gave Aerendir a strange look as he spoke, “But Aerendir, where life is there is hope, is it not?”

Siegyrd laughed.

Aerendir smiled and said, “So it is.”

“Then let’s give him a fighting chance.” Mareth said as he dug with his offhand into his own pack and drew a few more strips of dried jerky. He threw them to the lion who snatched those too and devoured them.

“Let’s go.” Mareth said and he kept his fist held with the spell until they were a long way down the road and then released.

“I expect he’ll follow us now.” Siegyrd whispered to Aerendir.

“Likely,” Aerendir said.

#

They walked until the sun burned high, smouldered low into a setting brilliance, and was finally overtaken by the inexorable march of night. When a sliver moon cast its pale rays onto the road and each step became, for Mareth, precarious, he wove a small spell and his clubstaff began to glow warmly.

“We should camp for the evening, I think.”

The brothers shrugged almost in unison. The three made their way some little distance from the thin road and circled up for camp. Mareth traced a spell around the campsite as soon as they identified their place, tamping down some of the high grasses and tying a web of song to the surrounding air.

Siegyrd commented, “It seems our wizard has picked up many tricks in our absence. Did Mathin teach you?”

Mareth continued his incantations, but shook his head. It took a few more minutes for him to finish, and in that time Aerendir had started a small fire contained in a deeply dug pit so the fire’s light did not escape far.

Mareth moved toward the center and looked at Siegyrd, “Zaralai’s gallery contained many arcane secrets. I was able to decipher some few, and I took notes on many more. Mathin is no more a wizard than he is a dragon, but he has a head for languages and knew his bride well. We learned much together.”

Mareth tossed his pack and bedroll down on the ground, and began to prepare for rest. “We shouldn’t need a watch, but I know you gentlemen are not quite human so if you want to stay up, please do.”

Aerendir laughed deeply, “Not quite human? I expect you know well what we are.” He leaned over the small fire pit and cooked up some of the other rations they had purchased before leaving Ruthaivan.

Mareth smiled, “I have my theories.”

“Enlighten us then!” Siegyrd said gleefully.

“I don’t think I shall actually. Some mysteries should not be spoken aloud. Besides, whatever else you are, I think you are friends.”

Siegyrd and Aerendir both smiled, but it was Aerendir who spoke, “I expected more vitriol, maybe more prying. You seemed quite upset before.”

“People change in almost a year, Aerendir. I think I have an idea of why you two have been somewhat secretive. I thought you were protecting yourself. I thought it a lack of trust in me.”

Siegyrd spoke, “And now?”

Mareth replied, “Now I don’t think it has anything to do with me.”

“What do you think it has to do with then?” Aerendir asked.

“It’s not my place to guess,” Mareth said as he rolled over onto his bed and closed his eyes, “You’ll tell me if and when it is right.”

“Not sure I have ever felt so ashamed, little brother.” Aerendir joked.

“Nor I. Not often his kind gets to take the proverbial high ground.” Siegyrd’s tone was playful.

“No,” Aerendir said loudly, “but he isn’t quite human either after all.”

Mareth sat up and turned toward the brothers and snapped, “What are you two talking about?”

The brothers laughed and Siegyrd said, “There’s our old friend. Welcome back, wizard.”

Mareth huffed, and turned away again to go back to sleep.