TELVIN

The same sort of energy had been lost while the guild packed up to start moving. Instead of cheers and the sound of swords clanging together, there were only orders being hollered as tents were torn down. Carts and horses were loaded up. People walked every which way with boxes and bags in hand. It was hectic. The amount of moving parts made my head spin. I was amazed at how many people were able to travel together like this. There were more people here than all of the people who lived in Oaknail. I was surprised at how diverse the group was as well. People of every color and mortal patronage walked among us.

Charlotte had informed Hark that I finally agreed to come. He looked very excited too. “When we have the time, you can repair our gear,” he said.

Charlotte gave him a stern look. “Don’t you think something like that would be a waste of time? He should learn how to fight, fixing tools can wait.”

Once they finished arguing, Charlotte actually came out the victor. I learned quickly she was almost second in command. Everyone in the guild held her in high regard. She was a good leader and a strong woman. I was surprised when she promised to train me personally. I wondered why I warranted such special treatment. I believed Hark was right. I should have stuck to making and repairing gear for everyone. It was the only thing I was good at.

Regardless, I was fitted with light armor and told to pick a weapon. I had thought about it almost an entire day. I thought it would be best for a regular half sword. Something small enough to carry in one hand. But I felt like it was too light when I held it. Instead I settled on something much heavier. A long sword. The blade I mended for myself was at least as tall as me. I had to hold it with both hands and when I swung it I was sure I could cut any man down. The weight alone could cleave logs in half.

Charlotte had been almost disappointed by my choice. Large blades were slow, she complained. Her fighting style was more of sneaking up and taking them out as fast as possible. Her blessing made her almost a master assassin. She could completely conceal herself, muffling her sounds and hiding her from any light. Since my blessing would never help in such a way, I didn’t see the point. It didn’t stop the small dwarf from beating me mercilessly. When we fought, she didn’t go easy on me.

We had been traveling for days, all the while training my combat. I was still nothing compared to her, but I was learning. I could at least block her sometimes now. I could lift the sword with ease at this point, but I was no match with her speed. I reminded myself not to get discouraged though. I was learning. Just like when Pa started to show me how to work metal. There would be a period of time before I knew what I was doing, and that was okay. Pa told me those kinds of things before he got mean in his old age. I missed those days, the time before I was scared of him.

The thought of my Pa sent a spike of pain through my chest. I tried not to think of it very often, but it always came up. As much as I pushed it back I could still see Ma sitting there, covered in blood. Screaming at me to leave as Pa died in her arms. The memory made my stomach turn. I would always be on the verge of throwing up when it came to mind.

Charlotte’s blade slashed out, almost cutting into my eye. “Pay attention,” she yelled.

I sighed, relaxing my stance. “Can’t we take a break this once?” I looked over my shoulder to the tents being set up behind us. We were settling right next to a trading town. Plenty of bars around. The buildings were lit in the dimming light of the sun. I could see people inside, drinking and hollering.

“You want to fool around just like all the other men?” she snapped. “Or do you want to learn to defend yourself when we need you?”

“Both?” I thought about how good a drink would be right now. Hopefully it would further my attempts at escapism. I needed that the most right now.

“You’re-” she gritted her teeth, but stopped herself. “You know what, go with Hark. Maybe he can help you more than I can anyway. Lost cause,” she finished harshly. Her daggers went back to her hips and she crossed her thin arms over her chest.

I laughed. “Don’t be so stubborn. You could use a drink too.”

She didn’t even humor the thought. She turned and started walking toward the edge of camp. I sighed and found myself following behind her. “Where are you going?”

“To check on something,” she said over her shoulder. I quickened my pace to fall in line next to her. She was fast for someone with such short legs. I noticed the four large metal carts ahead before I could ask her any questions. They were heavy looking, the wheels double the size of average carts. A thick padlock clamped the handle shut. The sun glinted off the sleek surface of one as he neared. She pointed a gloved hand to them and looked up at me.

This must be what she was checking on. As we got closer, I noticed there were no bars to let light trickle into the mobile prison cells. The thought of being locked in one sent a shiver down my spine. They had to be for prisoners. No carts this locked up would hold normal cargo. Two men were guarding each of them which solidified my suspicion further. When they saw Charlotte approaching, the closest man pushed himself up and stood straight.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Charlotte,” he greeted respectfully.

“How have they been behaving?” she asked, walking up to one of the doors. She slid open a small panel no bigger than my palm. It was just big enough for someone to peer inside. She stood on her tiptoes to get a look.

“Quiet,” the other man replied.

“Who are they?” I asked.

Charlotte gave me an amused smile and stepped down. She gestured for me to look inside like she had.

“Don’t scare the boy,” one of the guards said coldly to Charlotte.

The other man added, “He’ll run away faster than you did.” He elbowed his friend in the ribs.

I glared at them and took a step up. “If he’s too scared when he looks at them he deserves to be,” I heard Charlotte say to her underlings.

When I peeked through the small opening, I almost didn’t see anything. It was almost pitch black inside the metal cart, the only light spilling in was from around my head. I questioned if it was entirely empty. Was this an elaborate prank Charlotte devised? She was cruel, but was she this cruel? She jumped at any chance to cause me discomfort. When I was about to step down and tell them I saw nothing, something threw itself at the door.

I felt the body collide with the metal separating us. It made a loud thud, vibrating the whole cell. I could hear it clamor up and then its face came into view. Sunken eyes and lips dried over gums, yellowed teeth exposed. The skin was grey, mummified looking, almost like dry leather pulled taut over rotting bones. It gnashed its teeth together, hunger in it’s dead eyes. I stumbled back, gasping at the corpse-like figure. I fell off the metal cart and back on my ass. The fall blew the wind right from my lungs. I gasped, inhaling the dust I had kicked up. I turned and started to cough into the dirt. My stomach turned. I was going to be sick.

“Look, he’s turned green,” one man laughed.

“It’s a what, not a who,” Charlotte told me. She offered me her hand and I slapped it away, giving her a harsh look.

“Could have warned me. What the fuck is that thing?” I croaked. My voice was hoarse from coughing.

She frowned at me and reached up to close the panel. “A husk. They’re forsaken beings. The gods turned their backs on them for atrocities they’ve committed in this life or a past one.”

“A curse?” I asked, my mouth going dry. I pulled myself up and brushed the dust off my pants.

She nodded and started to head back into camp. “I never told you, but the guild isn’t just traveling mercenaries. We transport magical items and beings for high paying clients. This client specifically asked us to deliver these by the harvest festival in Bloodtide.”

“Bloodtide?” My mind immediately pulled Iara into view. She was there right now, in Cerith. The capitol. I guess she would even be Iara Bloodtide at this point. “What are we doing with them there?” Even if Iara had left me, I still worried about her safety. Would she be put in danger because of the husks?

Charlotte only shrugged. “We’ll do whatever the client wants us to do for the right amount of coin.” She turned to me. “Besides, the immortal patronages need to be put in their place, don’t you think?”

I furrowed my brows. I had never given other patronages much thought before. I have met someone of almost every patronage, but now that she mentioned it I haven’t met many immortal beings. Rey was the only one. Not much to base an opinion off of though. “What do you mean?” I eventually asked.

The dwarf crossed her arms over her chest and gave me a frown. “They shouldn’t be immortal. The other four patronages live and die while they’re blessed with living forever? It’s scary.”

“I think living forever would be scary,” I replied to her.

She rolled her eyes and started to walk away from me again. “I suppose you’ve lived your whole life in that gods forsaken tiny village anyway. You don’t understand an ounce of what I’m saying.”

“Where did you live before this then, since you are so much better than me?” I snapped at her. Sometimes her attitude was irritating to put it nicely. She acted as though I didn’t understand anything.

She didn’t even react to my question. She only kept pushing herself forward. I let out a noise of frustration and stopped following her. Let her be mad at me. I didn’t like being talked down to all the time anyway. I turned and headed toward one of the bars I had spotted before. I hoped to get my mind off a few things with the numbing of mead.

I still couldn’t shake the thought of the husk. Cursed by the gods. What kind of crime could have been so bad to create such a monster? I knew husks had no mind, and they only craved the flesh of the living. What a horrifying existence. Could such a thing happen to anyone who displeased the gods? Could it even happen to me, for committing such a sin as killing my father? The guilt I felt cut me like a shard of glass. It was jagged and painful. The mead I poured into my mouth did nothing to help it.

I felt a hand slap my back. I turned to see Hark, a young woman on his arm. “Are you enjoying the night?”

“Not as much as I hoped,” I admitted. I turned to my lonely table with only a bottle of drink as my company.

The woman on his arm gave me a smile. “I know someone who could help that,” she purred.

Hark leaned over to her, his body swaying. He must have been twice as drunk as me. The girl gave him a devilish grin at what he whispered to her. She turned back to me and pulled me up from my seat. “Come with me.”

Hark gave me a bag full of coins as the woman dragged me upstairs. The woman quickly shut the door behind us and shoved me back on the bed. The silver coins spilled out around me and she laughed. Hopefully this would serve to get my mind off things.