I sat atop the coach listening to the soft breathing inside, keeping watch on three guests who slept around the fire. Around midnight by my guess, it's hard to tell when the sky is covered in clouds. An old man walked into camp. He nodded to me then walked to the three sleeping around the fire. After checking each over, he sighed relief evident on his wrinkled face before walking toward the half disassembled corpse of the snake. He hummed softly to himself while stroking his goatee. Before long, he bent a knife appearing in his hands as he continued where May and Martina left off.

I chuckled at the strange old man and climbed down the side of the couch, doing my best to stay quiet. Not wanting to wake Meera. I opened the coach door glancing inside. Since we only used the coach as a handy bed, we turned the two couches into a bed that took up the entire space inside. I shook May's shoulder before whispering into her ear. "Can I have the tea leaves?"

She blinked at me in confusion for a second, then waved toward Snow. "Snow has the storage ring." Then her head lolled to the side, and her breathing steadied before I heard a light snore coming from her. I had to climb inside a little to reach Snow, who was using Meera as a body pillow from the looks of it. I repeated my question. Instead of answering or even lifting her head, she pulled one arm from inside the blanket, placing her hand in mine. I chuckled, then slipped the ring from her hand before kissing Meera on the forehead and shutting the door.

We both worked in silence. He finished removing the scales along with a couple of parts I wasn't aware were important. At the same time, I brewed a pot of tea. I was content to stay by the fire, but eventually, the old man waved me over, needing help with something. I sighed, not wanting to deal with the mess, plus almost everything to do with dissecting a beast requires two hands. But I got up, not wanting to seem disrespectful toward the old man. He didn't want much, only for me to help hold open its jaw while he fished around with his free hand, eventually removing a crystal twice the size of my thumb.

Afterward, he bade me follow as we both headed back toward the fire. The old man tossed the crystal into the flame, I assume to burn all the messy bits still attached, and he turned his attention toward meticulously cleaning himself of the blood and bits of scale stuck to his hands. When he finished, he dried his hands then checked them over one last time, making sure to look under each fingernail in turn before turning back to the fire and accepting the cup of steaming tea from me. He took a sip, and he looked twenty years younger as his face relaxed and he leaned back. "That's good tea, son. You definitely have a talent for it." His voice was calm and steady, not in the least rushed, just as you might expect from someone of advanced years to sound.

The sound of the coach door opening caught our attention as May climbed out a stack of fur quilts in her arms. She bowed slightly to the old man before offering one to him. Which he graciously accepted, wrapping it around his shoulders. Then she sat beside me, wrapping one around us both as she rested her head on my shoulder. The noise was enough to wake up Martina, who lay near her grandfather. She looked around groggily until her eyes landed on the old man, then she seemed to deflate as she hid her head under her covers. The old man only chuckled. Moments later, she had fallen back to sleep. The old man raised an eyebrow in amusement.

The old man sipped his tea in silence for several more minutes. Then he began telling us about his time as the cartographer for the western kingdom. He loved his job as it let him travel all over the kingdom at the king's expense. He bragged about once being shown an ancient map that is kept in the king's vault and how his life goal since that day had been to find the lost city of Malitull. According to some old texts, this was once the capital of an empire that encompassed the entire continent. Some even claimed it had colonies on both the northern and southern continents as well.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

I listened to while trying to keep May from sticking her icy hands into my shirt. "You said you were the royal cartographer. Why are you not still you don't look to be feeble?"

A shadow passed over his face, and he gave a dark chuckle. "I stopped when a guardsman from a small town on the fringes of the kingdom showed me a map he took off a notorious bandit lord that pillaged and burned countless villages. It was one of mine. I always print a tiny symbol on my maps that lets me recognize if it is one of my own. It is a common trait amongst cartographers we like to show off, after all. I have never sold a map; I always handed mine in personally to the keeper of the royal records. After discovering my maps were being used to hurt my fellow countrymen, I left the western capital and never looked back. MY son never forgave me. He blames me for his failing trade company. Personally, I think the trade companies are failing all across the empire because the roads are swamped with bandits and slavers. But what does some old fool who has been looking for a myth for nearly three decades without giving up know?"

He looked sadly at his grandaughter. "My fat, lazy son, traded his daughter off in marriage twice for some small gains. But both men ended up killed by bandits on the road within a year of marriage. Martina refused to be used again, and she was sent to live with her crazy grandfather for her sins. Those two punks over there were sent with her to get them out of the way after several nobles came for their heads. Apparently, they assaulted more than one young lady believing themselves above the law because of some stupid paper given by the king naming their father as a baron or some such nonsense. Believe me, I don't condone what they did, but they are my grandsons, so I agreed to keep them out of trouble. After all, what kind of mischief can they cause in the middle of a forest a month from civilization?"

Poking around in the fire, the old man knocked the crystal without giving it time to cool. He picked it up, causing May and myself to wince but surprisingly, he wasn't burned. He laughed at our reaction before tossing it to me. I caught it and glanced inside at the foggy substance. Supposedly these have pure qi, but I knew better they have nearly as many impurities as those pills clans and sects love so much. After looking it over, I tossed it back, surprising the old man. I smirked. "We have a special cultivation method that does not allow impurities of any kind."

He seemed intrigued. I could tell he wanted to ask but didn't want to dig into our secrets. His shoulders eventually slumped. "I hate how the ancient clans and sects hoard knowledge. All they care about is staying that one step ahead of their competition. I found an ancient library in some old ruins when I was young. It took me two years to break through all the locks and traps, and when I got inside the entire library and all its knowledge had turned to dust. All that knowledge could have helped the people build a better world or make their lives easier. Did you know that after every major empire in history fell, there is always a dark age where people must relearn and rebuild civilization from scratch?"

I held up both hands. "It's fine. We aren't keeping anything secret. It's just the cultivation technique is kind of a work in progress, and well, we are figuring everything out as we go."

The old man looked stunned for several moments. "You kids are creating your own cultivation method? Are you keeping notes? This is very important when trying new ideas, you know?" He seemed to get more excited the more he talked. May also perked up, finally removing her hands from my shirt as she retrieved her notebook to show the old man. We watched him flip through it for almost the rest of the night. He muttered from time to time sometimes. He would nod his head other times. He would shake it in bewilderment. When he closed it, he stared at us for several minutes then handed the notebook back. "Young lady, your handwriting is atrocious" was all he said. "But I would be interested in seeing this in its entirety when you finish." He gave a proud smile as he looked at us. "I love to see the younger generation forging their own path rather than stick to the status quo."