“Awake now, are we?”

Tyrus’s eyes cracked open one at a time at the soft voice. He blinked, rubbing away his grogginess as he sat up straight. His body bobbed around randomly, and the sound of clopping filled his ears. For a second, a frown flashed across his face; where was this annoying feeling coming from? Then he realized he was currently sitting atop a moving carriage, bouncing along an unpaved dirt road, flanked by ankle-length grass as far as his eyes could see. Clouds peppered the sky as the sun was at its peak.

From what Tyrus could remember, he was resting on a bed of moss that was almost as comfortable as an actual bed, pondering Elder Treant’s words. Now, he was in an entirely unfamiliar area? If he didn’t know any better, he might have suspected that he had been abducted or inexplicably transported during his slumber.

After some thought, he realized he was having one of those types of dreams again. The person next to him had that same clump of fog covering her face—he assumed it was a woman by her tone of voice—and wore a uniform similar to Sir Geroth, except it was black and lacked an emblem. Around her waist was a belt with two pockets; lying on the seat next to her was a scabbard that clattered every few seconds.

“Have we reached the border yet?” Tyrus muttered, peering at the woman.

Once again, his body acted on its own, moving like he had already gone through these actions. As always, he was just a spectator observing this character. Tyrus had suspected that maybe he was affected by magic and was experiencing hallucinations at random times. It first began when Wanderer helped him awaken, albeit forcefully, and he experienced it again after saving Ivy, and now it was happening right now. It must be no coincidence that Wanderer must be responsible somehow. That also raises the questions about how and why.

What he thought were hallucinations and tricks, his tune changed immediately. Everything felt real—from the scent of flowers tickling his nose to the harsh sun beating down on his skin. How rigid the seats of the carriage were and the wind rattling the exterior. Whatever was happening to him, it didn’t seem as random or by chance. The more this happened, the more Tyrus became suspicious that everything happened, that he was sure of. He took great pride in his senses and intuition, and his body and mind had been telling him the same thing: this is no ordinary dream.

“We’re getting closer,” a man up front answered. Sitting at the coach seat wasn’t a human, but a hairy creature resembling a rat. With ears as large as a bat and hay-colored fur, it wore a collared coat dyed blue with cuffs along its arms and pockets bulging with something. Tyrus watched the rat creature grasp the reins in both claw-like hands, adjusting the speed as the horses trotted.

“Are you sure of this, madam?” the rat man said, giving the woman a wary look with black, beady eyes. “Our actions will surely displease King Murus.”

She exhaled through her nose, posture relaxed with her hands folded nicely in her lap. “Be at ease, Alderus. I will shoulder any and all blame. Just say you were forced to do this and they will let you be. “

“B-but,” Alderus sputtered, guiding the horses to another curve. “They may... you know, do that.”

The woman chuckled. “That is entirely possible, but it is a scenario I’ve prepared for. I’ve made it this far and I do not intend on letting up. The future of this kingdom—no, Dharmere—rests on my plan succeeding. If the worst is to arrive, then I trust you to hold up on your end of the bargain.”

Alderus went silent for a moment, whiskers twitching and teeth grinding. Then with a sigh of resignation, he slumped against his seat, white fur ruffling in the cool breeze. “Yes, madam. But how will I know it is time to act? I trust you will notify me on this subject.”

“Fear not. On the day that the Skaura ends and the kin of storms gather, that is when it’ll be time. But until then, Alderus, you must be patient.”

“By the ancestors,” Alderus croaked. “Madam, there is still time to reconsider! Surely, not even someone as insane as you would be so bold. Are you sure this Demi-human will be capable for—”

The air grew chilly as the woman leaned forward toward Alderus and placed a hand on his shoulder. His body flinched at the touch, and the horses in front neighed nervously.

“In order to maintain respect, Alderus, it would be wise for you to watch your words,” she said firmly. “I apologize, but I find it distasteful when Tyrus is labeled as Demi-human instead of using his rightful name.”

“I-I-I apologise. Just the slip of the tongue; meant nothin' by it. It will not happen again. No, it will never happen.”

She patted him on the back, ensuring she had done enough, and smiled. The warmth in the atmosphere returned, and she sank into her seat, inhaling a deep breath of fresh air. “I am convinced that this is the right path to follow. It may be gritty and gloomy, but it is necessary. Fate can be such a cruel force, don’t you think? We strive so hard to alter our predetermined outcomes, yet regardless of our efforts, things never seem to unfold as we desire. Many believe that we are mere puppets of fate. Slaves, even.”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"Why work so hard?" Alderus asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The woman pondered the question for a few seconds. "It is human nature to fight against all odds. To struggle is what makes us human, hoping to better our lives, no matter how insignificant. Wouldn't you say so, Alderus?"

"I am not human, so I wouldn't know, madam," he replied. "I'm just a lowly gnash."

She blinked. "No, I suppose you aren't human. But because you possess that mindset, you will never be something more.

Tyrus was at a loss for what in the world was happening. Trying to keep up with the conversation was like listening to two people speak in a different language. Why were they heading for the border? Who the heck is Alderus and what was he entrusted to do? Most importantly, what was this woman planning to do?

She knew who he was and it sounded like they have a close relationship. In his previous hallucinations, or possibly a repressed memory, a person wearing armor guided him through a field of flowers. While the two people wore different attire, it wouldn't be far-fetched to say they were the same person. He also assumed that was Wanderer back then.

Given what he knew already, the person sitting next to him had to be Wanderer, right? Both their faces were hidden, had similar voices, and Wanderer felt just so familiar to him, as if they met before. He'd be dumb to think this was someone else entirely. If his gut was correct, then why would Wanderer pretend to not know of him? Was it related to whatever that rat man and the woman were conversing about?

This is giving me a headache! Why are they being so darn difficult!?

As if the woman senses his unease, she scooted closer to Tyrus and ruffled his hair. His ears twitched and his tail hung lazily behind him, out of his control, as always. He met her gaze and, if the mask of fog around her face vanished, he'd assume that she had a patient smile as bright as a thousand suns.

"We've arrived," said Alderus.

The horses whined as he tugged the reins, slowing the carriage to a stop. Tyrus faced forward, gazing through the space between the horses' rear. Up ahead was a flat land that stretched farther than what was visible. Grazing on the lush green fields were deer and a multitude of other creatures, lapping their tongues across the fresh water to cool themselves from the heat. Mountains jutted in the far-off horizon while clouds shaded a portion of their peaks. Besides the lakes and occasional spot of trees, there wasn't a person in sight.

I recognize this place, Tyrus thought. He watched the same scenery while he was in Wildwood a couple of days back. Now, the question is what they were doing so far away from Wildwood, let alone Lethos. Clearly, the rat guy was from the Beastfolk Kingdom, and if they were heading toward the border, that meant traveling away from that kingdom. Just reaching that conclusion opened up a lot of other questions that gave him a worse headache.

The woman cracked open the carriage door and stepped outside. She reached over and grabbed Tyrus by the hips and lifted him without so much as a grunt, setting him firmly on the ground.

"There we go," she said with a nod. She lowered herself, crouching until their heads were at level with each other, and added, "Now, Tyrus, do you know why we're here?"

He wanted to shout no, but his body, as always, went through the motions on its own. "You're finally letting me explore around on my own after I begged you for months! I thought you've forgotten all about it."

She nodded. "Alderus and I will wait for you here as you do your business. Just be sure to stick to the forests and avoid creatures you can't handle. And most importantly, stay out of trouble, especially settlements."

"What does that mean?" Tyrus asked.

"Just remember that some people may try to... do bad things to you because you're a child. If you see anyone following you and you don't know them, run as far away as you can. Fight, even. If it comes to it... kill, even."

"But you said—"

Her grip on his shoulder tightened, but not enough to inflict any pain. "I know I said taking the life of another is wrong, but some circumstances may arise where it may be the only choice, or necessary. You'll learn later down the road."

"...I still don't understand," he mumbled under his breath.

The woman glanced over at Alderus, who was tapping his wrist with a frown. "I've stalled as long as I could, but I'm afraid if I push this matter any longer, it'll only make things worse for you."

Suddenly, she reached over to her belt and fished around a pocket, withdrawing an item that had Tyrus mentally gasping, an orb with runes along the side. That very same artifact that was currently tucked into Tyrus' ring. He wasn't given the chance to ponder how she had gotten her hands on it before laying it gently into Tyrus's hands.

"Keep this artifact with you at all times and do not lose it. It's a very special item that'll assist you immensely in the future. Never, and I repeat, never hand it over to another person. The consequences will be dire, and there will be no way to recover from it. Even if it's stolen, do everything in your power to get the item back. Let only those close to you know of its presence. Am I making myself clear?"

Tyrus hesitated, but nodded. The woman smiled, even bringing him into a warm hug that lasted a solid minute before releasing him. That smile that was filled with bright emotions vanished abruptly as she stared into his eyes.

"What's the matter?" he asked. "Why do you look so sad?"

"It's because what I'm about to do will hurt me more than it'll hurt you," she said in a whisper.

In a quick motion, she raised her hand to his face, masking his vision. Black tendrils shot forth from her palm, covering his head completely. Everything went dark, and what followed suit was a white-hot pain as if a fire was ripping through his head. He opened his mouth to scream, and it felt like his mouth split at the seams, a part of him falling down into the darkness. For what felt like hours, agony tormented him until eventually, the feeling dispersed into nothingness.

When Tyrus regained control of his senses, he quickly sat up on his moss bed, screaming and drenched in cold sweat. The pain in his head felt agonizingly real, as if a sharp object was slicing into his skull. However, as the seconds ticked by, the pain gradually lessened to a mild pinch and eventually disappeared completely. Still gasping for breath, he cautiously ran a hand over his face, half-expecting to feel wounds. Once he had calmed down, he lay motionless, noticing that the artifact was in his other hand this whole time.