Syllia watched James jump up from his sleeping bag. The light from the campfire was dim, quickly fading out. Outside the small ring of light from the fire, darkness enclosed the two.

James panted, sweat pouring from his brow. He threw his blanket aside and pulled up his right pants leg.

“Nightmare?” She sat with her legs pulled up to her chest.

He quickly turned his head, then sighed and relaxed. “I suppose.”

“Willing to talk about it?” She looked him up and down. “If you remember it, that is.”

The dream was barely memorable, but he got the gist. “It’d need context I don’t think you’d understand.” He reached where his gun belt, quiver and bow sat. Beside them was a water bladder, which he uncapped and drank from.

She looked in wonder at what he might mean. Thinking, it was probably best to let him deal with it himself, or at the very least let him come to her if he needed to talk.

As she thought, she noticed his face had grown pale. He laid back down and put his hands behind his head. The fire died out, leaving the two in the dim moonlight. She grabbed her blanket and wrapped herself up tight. As she began to drift off, she heard small sobs from across the camp.

James fastened his belt. Slipping a revolver into each holster, he picked up his coat and put it on. He finished by slinging his bow across his chest and setting his gambler's hat on his head. Syllia picked up her bag and put it on.

The two made their way out of the woods and back onto the path. They walked solemnly along the empty dirt road. Sunlight, clouded by small rain clouds in the distance, pierced through the treetop.

He clenched his fist. In his brain, images of the nightmare last night flashed through his mind. Doing his best to put it out of his mind, he focused on each step he took. His feet stomped against the cold earth below him.

“Holiday..” Syllia broke his train of thought. “I’ve heard that name before, but I can’t remember where?”

He sighed. “How often do you read about the capital of Athira?”

“Not often, I admit.” She thought back to a host of events she’d seen in newspapers or heard from word of mouth.

“Was about a year ago.” He began. “Saint Joseph’s Noble Academy, students attempting a coup d'état?”

“I remember vaguely, but where do you fall into this?” She questioned, staring ahead down the road.

“The Holiday Family attempted to out the culprits of the coup.” He said.

She put her hand to her chin. “It doesn't bring a whole lot to memories.”

“It shouldn’t. Press couldn’t give less of a shit.” With this, his tone soured.

Syllia couldn’t remember much of anything about the Holiday family, besides it being just another noble family in a rapidly aging caste system.

“So you’re one of the Holidays. I never knew their family fell apart.” She sounded sympathetic. “I do wonder, what happened?”

“Must you pry so much?” He turned his head to face her while continuing to walk.

“If you’d rather not talk about it, I understand.” Her head shifted to look back at him. He grabbed his hat and slicked his hair back, then set it back down.

“Mr. & Mrs. Holiday died in a ‘highway robbery’ on a trip to the capital. I was blamed for the murder of three students on campus. Lost my title and most everything I owned.” His stare had shifted straight forward. It pierced the trees that hung over the dirt road. “Now my kid sister is ‘Duchess Holiday’ and I’ll be executed if I’m caught in any Athiran town.”

She looked at him. He’d still mostly maintained his calm demeanor, but his pace had begun to quicken. She sped up, following his pace.

The two traveled for weeks. For Syllia, she’d spent decades on adventures. James wasn’t as used to traveling long distances for long periods of time, but he nonetheless kept up with Syllia. They’d reached an area of land with large, open plains and fewer trees. James could see down the road for miles. About a half a mile away, another town, similar in size and construction to the previous, sat lively. People clearly walked the streets, trading and conversing.

As they got closer, the voices of the people grew louder. James heard a guitar from one of the street corners. He followed Syllia into the local inn. She purchased a room for the two to share.

James unslung his bow and unclipped the quiver from his belt. Setting both on his bed, he turned to Syllia.

“So, any plans while you’re in town?” He said as he placed his hat on his head.

“There’s an old friend I’m due to visit.” Syllia placed her bag on the ground. Removing her traveling cloak, she draped it over her bag and walked to the door.

He followed her out of the inn. The two walked through the bustling streets. Around them, street vendors attempted to sell their wares, children played in the street, and adults held friendly conversations.

The pair went just outside of town. Down a singular path, a small wood and thatch home stood on a hill. Smoke poured from the stone chimney. As Syllia went to the front door, James surveyed the surroundings.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

The area was plain, with only grass fields for miles until they were broken up by trees. Aside from the distant forests, a lone tree stood at the bottom of the hill, maybe 100 yards away. James noticed a figure sat under the tree.

Knock, Knock, Knock.

Syllia knocked on the door, then stood back. After a few seconds, the door opened. Behind the door stood a man. From his thin gray hair, James deciphered that he was clearly very old, easily 60 or 70.

“Syllia.” The man said. If his looks didn’t prove enough, his rough voice certainly sold it.

“Durk.” She nodded in greeting. “May we come in?”

“Of course, make yourself welcome.” He stepped out of the way. Syllia walked in like she’d been there a million times. James walked in more cautiously.

The house was very small with one big room containing the kitchen/dining room and a smaller room with the old man’s bed. In the dining room was a small, round table. It was surrounded by 4 matching wooden chairs.

The old man pulled one out for Syllia, then sat down himself. Syllia took the chair the man had pulled out. James took the one next to Syllia.

“I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting you.” The old man said from across the table, looking at James.

“James Holiday.” He extended his hand.

“Clarence Durk.” The old man gently shook his hand. He turned to face Syllia. “So, I see you haven’t quite settled down yet, but at least you found a man.”

She stuttered, her face flushing somewhat. Clarence simply chuckled.

James stepped in. “Unfortunately, we’re only traveling together.” He turned to look at Syllia as well. “I doubt she’ll ever set her roots down.”

Clarence nodded. “She never changes.”

After several minutes, the old man made a pot of tea. He set it down on the table and laid down 3 teacups. Syllia filled her cup and took a sip alongside Clarence.

“Syllia.” The old man set down his teacup. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Yes?” She said between sips.

“Do you remember Gabriel?” He looked out the window towards the lone tree.

“Vaguely. He was a boy when I last visited.” She recalled.

He continued to stare out the window. “He’s been wanting to return to Dahlberg.”

Her gaze on Clarence hardened. “You’ve told him that the area’s overrun by monsters?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, he believes I've trained him enough to venture there.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “He’s told me he will be leaving tomorrow, no matter what I may tell him.”

James saw what was coming. Looking over, Syllia was having similar thoughts.

“We’ll take him.” She finally settled.

“Goddamn it.” James thought to himself. “Excuse me Mister Durk, how old is ‘Gabriel’?”

“He turned 17 around a month ago.” The old man stood and pushed back his chair. “Why don’t you meet him yourself.”

The three descended the hill. James saw a clearer view of the kid. He was around 6’ tall with ear length black hair and red eyes. Nearby, leaning against the tree was a large battle axe. The kid turned to the approaching three.

“Who’s this?” The kid said. Clarence stopped with the group. Syllia stepped up first.

“Hello. I’m Syllia Bienan.” She bowed her head.

James stood a pace behind the group. “James Holiday.” He said, tipping his hat to accompany his less-than-enthusiastic greeting.

“I’m Gabriel.” The kid addressed the two, never moving his eyes from Clarence.

“Gabriel.” The old man began.

“I’m not staying.” The kid cut him off. “I don’t care what dangerous tale’s they’ll tell me, I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

“That’s not why they’re here.” The old man sharply addressed Gabriel. “She’s an old companion of mine. We traveled decades ago, back in my youth.” He monologue to the kid. “I trust Miss Bienan with with my life, and now I’d like for you to accompany her.”

The kid's expression lighted, but he still looked suspiciously towards James. “Right, what about him?”

James stared daggers into the kid, not entirely on purpose.

“If I may.” Syllia stepped in. “Holiday is a traveling companion I’ve made recently. He’s a good fighter with a strong character. I trust him as much as I trust your master.” She affirmed.

Gabriel eyed James up and down.

“Doesn’t look like much.” The kid said with noticeable arrogance.

“Please.” The old man pleaded with the kid. “Give them a chance.”

The kid stared into the old man’s eyes. He threw his hands up and sighed.

“Fine, but we’re still going to Dalhberg.”

The group decided that Gabriel would spend his last night at Mister Durks cottage, while James and Syllia slept in the inn. Walking down the main street, James watched as Syllia curiously peered into each vendor’s stall.

He noticed her take particular interest in a small store, wedged between a series of stalls and another larger general store. Peering through the window, he saw a variety of jewelry. On tables and behind glass were rings, jewels, bracelets, and necklaces.

“Anything you fancy?” He stood behind her as she put her face up to the window.

Quickly withdrawing, she faced back down the street. “I’m quite fine without it.”

He produced his coin pouch and shook it. The jingle of coins caught her attention.

“We have money to spare.” He grinned.

James watched as she pursued the jewelry inside the store. Her joyous wonder rubbed off on him. She’d been mostly serious for the entire time they’d been together, but she seemed happy in the moment.

“Here.” She picked up a ring. It was of solid silver, with a small green gem on top.

Walking over to the shopkeeper, she placed it on the table. Beside the counter was an aging woman, James assumed was in her 60s.

“Perfect choice.” The shopkeeper said, examining the ring. “10 gold pieces.”

Producing the required gold, he placed it on the counter. The shopkeeper quickly counted it, then handed the ring to Syllia. James watched her slide it onto her left ring finger. Her gentle smile widened.

“Let’s get back to the inn. Gabriel will probably be itchin’ to leave around sunrise.” James turned and walked out the door.

The two stood in front of the inn. James held the door open, signaling for her to enter. She obliged, walking into the inn. James shut the door and followed Syllia to their room.

Entering the room, James took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack next to the door. He then did the same with his hat, setting it on the hook above his coat. His black coat was contrasted by Syllia’s dull white cloak. Despite years, maybe decades of use, It was in very good condition.

Outside, the sun set over the wood and thatch roofs of the village. Syllia had already removed her shoes and tunic, sleeping in a tank-top and her regular pants. James pulled his revolvers from their holsters and placed them side by side on the bed. Removing his gun belt, he placed it at the foot of his bed with his bow and quiver.

He pulled both suspenders off to the side and placed his boots beside the bed. Finally, he tucked both revolvers in his waistband and laid down in bed.

His eyelids shut. Darkness enveloped his mind as he drifted off to sleep.