Caster’s eyes slowly adjusted to the overwhelming brightness of the sun from inside his hiding place. The surface light was so much more intense than the gentle glow of the moonrocks from down below. He poked his head up, pushing the top flap of Elenore’s backpack out of the way. At this point, Caster was getting irritated with having to constantly be inside the cramped space and was willing to risk the increased odds of getting ‘caught.’

The road they traveled was nothing like the ones in Mainhelm that were made up of cobbled stones. This road was patted down with dirt, a path traveled millions of times before by other travelers. The area around them was bright, but it was a pleasant light now that Caster’s sight was starting to adjust once more.

It was an expanse of rolling hills. It was as if despite its ten thousand efforts, the land could never manage to raise itself into a true mountain range. It was a wavy quilt evenly covered in short green grass and countless patches of sunflowers and tulips that spread countless sweet scents that were curated by the occasional busy bee, rabbit, or butterfly.

The peaceful serenity was borderline suspicious.

“Where we headed to again?” Elenore asked.

“Boyerton. We’re northwest of Hullwood Forest, at the top of the Eastern Aurum Heath.” Keith’s tone was more humorless than usual.

Either Elenore had gotten the hint, or the answer had satisfied her curiosity enough so that she could continue enjoying the scenery in silence.

Caster leaned backward inside the sack and sighed. He didn’t know exactly how long he’d been awake, but it had to be for at least a day. The light began to fade as his eyelids drifted shut.

Then, Caster forced them half-open. Elenore’s pace was slowing down, he could feel the slight change in the rucksack’s rhythmic swaying. He didn’t move, not like there was anywhere for him to go anyway.

Level Up! Occult Increased +1!

What? Why? Nothing happened... must be bugged or something. Oh well, a level's a level.

After a moment he slowly rose from his leaning spot in the back and peeked out the small crack under the lip of the rucksack again. It was still bright day, and it didn’t seem like their position had changed at all. He couldn’t have been out for long.

Caster tried peeking toward the front, but he couldn’t see anything past Elenore’s triceps. As she stopped moving altogether, the very edge of a structure came into view. It was the side of a log cabin that had been built alongside the road. Then, Caster heard the voice.

“Hello loves! So nice to have visitors. Are you two from around these parts?” The voice was from an elderly woman.

Caster heard a single syllable come from Keith’s mouth before Elenore interrupted him.

“Nah, I’m from Blasted Hills. I’m comin’ home after sightseeing around the world. This is my bodyguard, and butler, Sebastian,” she motioned toward Keith.

Caster immediately pressed both of his mitts over his face. He practically had to shove them into his mouth to stop himself from bursting out with laughter. Keith clasped his hands together and nodded politely.

“Oh, The Blasted Hills! My husband, rest his soul, came from the same lands. He lived just north of Amberkirke.”

Amberkirke? Caster opened his interface and look at his map, then his party’s details. Sure enough, ‘Amberkirke’ was both the name of a city and Elenore’s last name.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Oh, me too!” It seemed as if the dangers of oversharing hadn’t crossed Elenore’s mind for a second.

“Please, do come inside for a spell. I spent fifty years with one of the mountain folk, so I know that you all seem feisty all the time, but I can tell you’re exhausted.” The old woman stood from her rocking chair atop the log cabin’s porch.

Elenore hesitated and glanced toward Keith. He said nothing and didn’t move a muscle. He knew she was past the point of being talked down from entering the strange woman’s shack.

Elenore stepped onto the porch, even though the cabin was built alongside a road in the middle of nowhere, and they were carrying a ‘creature’ that shouldn’t exist who was itself carrying an item that would warrant unspeakable torture, or death if they were lucky.

Keith followed Elenore, ready to draw his knives before one could blink as the old woman led them inside the shack.

The cabin space was small, but not cramped. It was cozy, oddly enough. The dark brown wood floor was illuminated by the orange glow of a hearth’s fire. Surprisingly, sunlight was allowed in through the two windows on either side of the entrance room. The cabin was hardly a dungeon.

“You can put your armor on the rack next to Harold’s.” The old woman neared the hearth and used poker tools to prod at a brass bowl hanging above the fire. “Oh, my name’s Helga. Harold was my husband,” Helga said before walking into another room that was connected to the main room.

Elenore moved toward the corner of the room where a standing rack was placed firmly on the floor. It had enough hooks to hold four chest plates and their matching leg pieces. One armor set was already there. Elenore undid the clips of her rucksack, and gently set it on the floor with the backside facing the inside of the living room so that Caster could look around too.

Caster looked up and saw Elenore inspecting the pieces of an armor set that hung there. She undid the clips and buckles of her armor slowly at first, but as she looked over each piece of the armor already there, she sped up.

“Wow, this is genuine Blasted steel. His plates got more scratches than mine!” Elenore said, glancing toward Keith.

She’s trying to let us know that the old woman is telling the truth. Caster realized.

Elenore removed the upper and lower halves of the leather armor that connected her series of scuffed steel plates that covered her body and set it onto the armor rack. Under her armor, she wore a tight layer of black clothing. It was split into two pieces like her armor, but the limb portions cut off before her knees and elbows, revealing countless small - and some large - scars along her shins, forearms, and abdomen.

By the Gods, you could grind meat on those.

Stepping away from the rack, Elenore sat next to her rucksack, cross-legged with her back to the wall.

Keith remained standing just outside the doorframe, his hidden eyes meticulously panning over every inch of the cabin’s interior for traps. He hadn’t found anything in his first four passes, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t keep looking.

Helga returned, carrying a plate in her hands. The wooden tray had an assortment of vegetables and a handful of eggs. Despite her hunched stature she managed to move with a slow but steady determination.

“I know you’re just looking after the safety of the maiden so feel free to check around the cabin to make sure no one’s hiding anywhere,” Helga smiled as she lifted the lid of the brass pot hanging over the fire. “I won’t ask you to take your aquifer suit off either, I’ve got nothing against the sea folk as long as they’ve got nothing against me.”

Keith didn’t move a muscle for several seconds. Then he nodded, turned, opened the cabin door, and stepped outside.

“I think he’s gonna check the foundation and the window sights,” said Elenore, she sounded almost embarrassed.

“No offense taken. You’re nearly as big as Harold was in his prime, so I’m sure you can take care of yourself. But still, if he’s your chaperone it’s his duty to make sure you make it back home in one piece.”

“Well, he’s not my chaperone he’s just…”

“Don’t worry dear you ain’t gotta hide nothing from me. I’ve seen more than enough young ladies from the Blasted Hills with royal blood that traveled to see the world with an assassin bodyguard at their side.”

What is she talking about? Caster's eyes darted between the two.

“My husband was one of the mountain common folk, but he served as a soldier for the Amberkirke family during the regional wars before the Blasted Hills unified. The pension from the city’s treasury is what paid for this cabin. He always did say your family had hair like cinders.” Helga continued to look into the brass pot while stirring the fresh contents within.

“Yeah… you got me. Elenore Amberkirke’s the full name. I’m the youngest.” Elenore scratched the back of her head as a wide, toothy grin spread across her face. Her face was turning red, almost matching her messy cinder-colored pigtails.

Caster held onto the inside of the rucksack to steady himself as the realization came to him.

Elenore is a princess?!

Clever - Knowledge is Power, Activated! +1 Arcane