Freja woke up to the sound of Wyatt and Caleb, the goblin brothers, complaining about having to clean up the campsite so early in the morning. She was in a small one-person tent and even had a sleeping roll lent to her by Sabec. Bjorn was curled up with her, though he was already awake. She tried to force him inside the tent when they went to bed, but he wanted to stay up and guard her all night. She didn’t know if he actually got any rest, but having him with her helped.
Now that she could feel his emotions through the familiar bond she knew he was apprehensive but not hostile to the people in the caravan. She felt about the same, but mostly felt thankful they’d been treating her so well. With her new perspective into his emotions he felt more like a father figure always looking to protect her. Given the fact that he had been safeguarding her since he was born it was no wonder he felt that way. She hoped being in the caravan would allow both of them to have some normalcy for a change. She knew damn well she was ready for something normal.
Freja reached for her glasses, pleased with the runes carved onto them that had protected them all this time. She crawled out of the tent and stretched, Bjorn did the same thing. The goblin brothers approached, but not for her. Which she didn’t mind as goblin males were not handsome. They were known for their appearance being an acquired taste to most other races. Goblin females loved every bit of their partner's ugliness, and in fact were not known to date outside of their race.
The brothers were more easily distinguished by their hats. Wyatt always seemed to wear a brown fur hat, while Caleb wore a blue leather one. They pulled jerky from their pockets and ran over to Bjorn. They only seemed to notice Freja after he walked around her and they nearly ran into her.
“Oh, good morning, Sif,” Wyatt said. “Can we give these to Bjorn?”
“Good morning, let me see it,” she said as she held out her hand. “What is it?”
Wyatt handed her one of the strips. “Chevon jerky.”
Freja smelled the jerky and bit off a small corner, her teeth easily slicing through the jerky like scissors. She then handed it back to the waiting goblin.
“It should be fine, if he wants to eat that is,” Freja said.
Freja stepped aside and the two boys reached out their hands for Bjorn. Each head took one of the strips. The goblins lit up with excitement, their long tails wagging in the air.
“He’s so cool, what is he?” Caleb asked.
“Honestly, I don’t know,” Freja shrugged. “I couldn’t find anything on him in our bestiary. He’s only about a week old, though, so he’s probably going to get very big.”
The boys continued to ask questions about Bjorn. How big was he going to get, was he venomous, could he breathe fire or something, why did he have two heads, among other questions. Freja told them he was venomous and that, yes, she’d found out yesterday he does in fact breathe fire. She kept the fact he’d grown a second head after being decapitated to herself.
“Since you don’t know what he is, you should talk to Joha. He knows a lot about monsters,” Caleb said with a snap. “I think he used to hunt them a long time ago.”
The boys wanted to ask more questions but their dad, Owen, found them and told them to get back to work. Freja looked around; it seemed like everyone was already awake and packing up their campsite. Freja knew she couldn’t idle; she had her own tasks to tend to. Resolving to catch Joha later, she focused on dismantling her tent. She carefully folded the cloth and stowed it away, her hands methodically working as her mind wandered.
The camp felt more crowded than it had the previous night. A group of snowfallen wendigo had joined the company, five in total. Freja recognized Maiden Embla among them—she must have returned during the night—but the others were unfamiliar. Embla, thankfully, was the only member of the clergy present.
The newcomers wore the coat of arms of a clan Freja had never heard of before. The emblem depicted a sword flanked by three corvids, all set against a stark winter motif, with the name ‘Isi’ embroidered beneath it. There was no noble seal, suggesting it was not a prominent family.
The new wendigo were all men, each clad in scaled armor of blue and white, their swords hanging at their sides. They moved like warriors, disciplined and alert, exuding a quiet confidence that made Freja uneasy. The apparent leader of the group stood out—a young man, perhaps only a few years older than her. His commanding presence suggested he had experience in leading effectively, though Freja didn’t care to investigate further.
She resolved to keep her distance and as unobtrusive as possible. After the past week she had the last thing she wanted was to be drawn into more conflict or drama. These wendigo looked capable, but Freja had neither the energy nor the inclination to find out how much. She focused instead on finishing her tasks, determined to stay invisible amid the bustling camp.
Freja pet one of Bjorn’s heads. “We are staying away from them as much as possible, Baby. Embla treated me nicely after finding out I was a Shai, but I don’t know how others will react.”
After packing up everything she finally got a good look at all of the wagons. They were all different. Sabec had the least impressive-looking but largest standard merchant wagon. Cloth top on wooden frame, but with some notable reinforcement runes carved into the wood. It would make the wagon much harder to damage, and allow it to carry more cargo as long as he had the horse power. Which he did; there were two healthy chestnut colored horses.
Joha’s wagon was by far the most impressive but also the smallest. His was colorful with exaggerated lines and curves, following the motif of a different culture than what Freja was used to. It was all wood and metal with a double door on one side like what she would expect on a carriage, not a cargo carrier.
The middle wagon was more like a cart with a single horse and a cloth top. It also had the crest of the Isi Clan. Given the size it was likely only used to transport supplies and not people. Freja did wonder where the Isi Clan members had been the previous night and why she hadn’t seen them.
The goblin family had a large wagon that looked like a big wooden box on wheels. It was all natural colors; fully business and no pleasure. Freja knew they were all merchants, but realized she didn’t know what any of them sold. She would have to ask about it later. For now she summoned her wind hands to help her carry everything to Sabec’s wagon. The large gnoll was in the process of hooking up his horses when she approached.
“Ah, good morning, miss Sif,” Sabec said. “How did you sleep, hmm?”
“Best sleep I’ve had in days, honestly,” Freja responded. “Where do I put this stuff? I am ready to help.”
“Sabec will show you, yes?” he said as he finished tightening the straps on the horse. “Come with Sabec and watch your step,” he said as they walked along the side of his cart.
“I know you’re merchants, what do you all sell?” Freja asked.
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“Sabec sells tools. Wood, iron, steel, and orichalcum for any need. All orichalcum tools are enchanted.” He noted Freja perk up a bit at the orichalcum. “Wendigo loves enchanted tools. They have a large population of those who can use magic, yes?” Freja nodded and Sabec chuckled to himself. “Joha sells spices from his homeland. You liked the food yesterday, it is because of some of his spices. The goblins, they sell a little bit of everything. This one doubts all of it is legally acquired goods, so watch your things. They have not stolen from Sabec, but this one catches their scent around my cart from time to time.”
“They’re thieves?” Freja asked as she looked over to her bag that she’d left out in the open.
“Sabec is not sure, these are only observations,” he said dismissively. “Children are curious are they not? The goblins have two and they like to snoop.”
She believed Bjorn must have picked up on her concern through their bond, because he ran over to her stuff and inspected it. She turned her attention back to Sabec as he opened the back of the transport. Inside it was filled with shelves, stocked with everything from hammers and nails to saws, anvils, and farming equipment. He jumped up the four or so feet in a single bound, and Freja had to use her mana muscle saturation to do the same.
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Mana Muscle Saturation
Magic cost: 1
Push your mana into your muscles and bones to temporarily increase your physical attributes.
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“You will be riding with Sabec on our journey,” he said, pointing out a space for Freja to place the folded up tent. “Sabec is the only one with space for an additional rider. Go bring your things, we will store them now.”
Freja placed the tent where he pointed out. There was barely enough room but with a little force she managed to squeeze it in.
“Okay, I will be right back Sabec.” Freja responded as she hopped down from the wagon.
“Sif,” Embla’s voice caught Freja off guard mid stride. “Can you come with me for a moment?”
Freja hesitated for a moment but seeing the serious look on Embla’s face relented with a nod.
***
The Isi had their own little campsite set apart from the merchants’ bustling wagons. It was small but orderly, with five warriors surrounding a grim collection of items Freja instantly recognized. Her heart sank as her eyes swept over the pile: the broken antler from the treant, the head of the steel wolf, and several shadow wolf corpses, perfectly intact and laid out with precision. Among the grisly trophies, she spotted her alchemy case. It looked untouched, though slightly scuffed from being tossed around during her escape.
The Isi warriors stood in a loose semicircle, their postures casual but watchful. They were sizing her up, their gazes probing for any hint of weakness.
The youngest of the group stepped forward, breaking the tense silence. His antlers weren’t fully grown but were capped with sleek black steel. He looked a few years older than Freja, his snowfallen complexion marked with faint freckles along his neck.
“Sif, right?” he asked. “My name is Tyr, heir of the Isi Lesser House. We’ve been patrolling the lands granted to us by the Nazem. I can see you’ve been through quite an ordeal, but could you explain what happened? Vellir Village... Are you a survivor from there?”
Freja hesitated, her mind flashing back to the horrors she’d witnessed. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t think there were any survivors. When Bjorn and I encountered the steel wolf and its pack, we ran. I found the village, but… the treant had already killed everyone.”
Tyr nodded solemnly, his expression grave. “Did you kill the wolves and start that fire?”
“It was self-defense,” Freja replied, her tone steady but guarded.
“So, you’re a mage?” Embla interjected, her sharp gaze boring into Freja.
“Embla, please,” Tyr interrupted, casting her a pointed look before turning back to Freja. His voice softened. “Sif, what you did was admirable. From what Embla described, the treant hadn’t completely turned yet, but it was close. If it had, we’d be facing a much bigger problem. Those lost in Vellir will be honored, as will you.”
“This is troubling news,” the largest man in the group rumbled. “Heir Tyr, we should report this to your father immediately. A druid this far into the country… there could be more.”
Tyr fell silent, his brow furrowed in thought. Finally, he nodded. “You’re right. We need to send word at once. Svan, Bo, you’ll head back to deliver the report. The rest of us will continue our route to deliver the supplies and check on the other villages.”
“You should come with us,” Svan said, his tone firm.
“I am undergoing my trial under the supervision of our fræðikona,” Tyr replied with a note of finality. “I will be fine, Svan.”
The group’s attention shifted as they began discussing their plans. Freja, momentarily forgotten, used the opportunity to study Tyr more closely. Despite his youthful features, he carried himself with a practiced authority. Freja felt jealousy for the young man, despite being from a lesser house he had a regal air, and his confident posture spoke of a well-trained Hier. He was in a way, everything she as a Shai could never be. Not in this life anyway.
Finally, Freja took a deep breath and stepped forward. “Excuse me,” she said, her voice clear but polite. “The alchemy case there—it’s mine. I dropped it during the escape. Could I have it back?”
The warriors paused, their gazes turning back to her.
Tyr looked at the case, then at Freja. “Of course,” he said with a faint smile. “Embla, return it to her.”
Embla’s expression was unreadable as she picked up the case and handed it to Freja. Her grip lingered for a moment, and her sharp eyes seemed to hold a dozen unspoken questions. Before she could voice any of them, Tyr intervened.
“That’s enough, Embla,” Tyr said firmly. “Sif has been through enough for one day don’t you think. Even the Forest Father closes his eyes to rest. Let her go.”
Embla gave a small, reluctant nod and stepped back.
“Thank you,” Freja said, clutching the case tightly.
Tyr inclined his head. “You’re free to leave, Sif. Thank you again for what you’ve done. Your actions saved lives, whether you realize it or not. As soon as we return to the village estate I am sure my father will reward you for what you have done.” He placed a hand on his heart. “Forest Father guide, sister.”
Freja offered a faint smile in return and turned to leave, her alchemy case safely in her hands.
***
Bjorn sat near the fire as Helina cooked breakfast over the for her family. It was a mixture of sausage, potatoes and manchet bread. Bjorn laid down across from her, angling himself so he could see Freja and the snowfallen warriors. He positioned himself so he could react quickly if he needed to. He felt tense, meeting such nice people out on the road like this felt unlikely. While he watched Freja closely Owen walked up and kissed Helina on the cheek.
“Almost ready?” he asked.
“Only a few more minutes, dear,” Helina stated.
“What did you find out about our new guests?” Owen inquired.
“Wait, shh,” Helina said. “Her familiar is right there.”
“He's delta at the most,” Owen with a dismissive chuckle. “No different from a regular pet right now.”
Helina looked at Bjorn for a long moment then sighed. “She’s definitely on the run, at first I thought thief, or common criminal. Her staff and knife are druid made, and I think she killed someone to get them.”
“Hmm… That could be trouble,” Owen said in a long breath. “You think she’s a deserter from that war they're fighting?”
“Does she look like a fighter to you?” Helina asked sarcastically. “No, I don’t know how she got the weapons but she definitely used them on someone or something recently. I think it was her first time, too. I’ve seen eyes like hers when she first arrived.”
“Yeah, I was worried about that,” Owen said as he got much closer to his wife.
She playfully nudged him with her tail. “More importantly, I remember that uniform she’s wearing. Some magic academy in the Salstar domain. She said she was kicked out of her family, the Shiagaunt thing they do to failures or whatever.”
“Hmm. It's a shame they do that to their own like that, but it does mean no one’s looking for her,” Owen said as he rubbed his chin. “Let’s see what she can do. She just survived a harrowing experience, after all. We can let her see what it’s like to be a real caravaneer. No reason to rush things.”
Bjorn continued to lay there, acting as if he couldn’t understand them. The goblin’s conversation quickly shifted to bedroom fun as they got a little too frisky for Bjorn’s liking. He chose a time when Freja was walking around to get up and leave inconspicuously. He knew he was going to have to watch the goblins a little closer now.