“And here we are,” said Captain Alden, as his boat pulled into the harbour town of Eldcroft along the southern shore of Mercia.

It had been a one-week journey along the western coast of the Asterra before following the southeastern coast of Mercia for another week and a half, passing through the Stride River and into the Sea of Three Pearls that was surrounded by Asterra, Mercia and Corobath.

“Finally!” wailed Marina, dragging her hand across her face. “I can’t spend one more minute on the water.”

“We have stopped thrice,” said Teleri, “and one of them was unscheduled. You had best be grateful to the captain for that.”

“And I am,” said Marina, smiling weakly at Captain Alden, “but that doesn’t make me less ill while we’re sailing along.”

“Thank you, Captain Alden,” said Friedrich, trying to distract from Marina’s unintended rudeness.

“You’re welcome, lad,” said the captain, giving him a forceful slap on the back. “I only wish we could take you further, but we got a schedule to keep. One night here and then it’s back to Akatfall.”

“There’s a nip in the air now, ain’t there?” said Pheston, breathing deeply and then exhaling slowly. “Suits me much better than the hot sands, I’ll tell you that. We’re so close to home that I can smell it.”

Marina looked at the old smith sadly. It hadn’t even been three full weeks and his pristine new tunic, trousers and boots were in almost as bad of a state as his old ones. How he had managed to achieve such a feat, she did not know, but it greatly disappointed her. Especially as he refused to let her buy any more.

When the boat was moored, the four passengers thanked the captain and his crew before making their way into the town. Friedrich and Pheston were content to stock up on food and start the long walk to Corobath, but Marina and Teleri insisted on stopping at the inn as it would likely be the last night of peaceful rest they would get for a while.

“If it’s alright with you three, I think I’ll sleep under the stars,” said Pheston, looking to the trees that loomed up the hill at the edge of town. “I don’t trust sleeping too close to other people. That boat ride was uncomfortable enough for me.”

“We’re separated by walls,” said Marina, looking sympathetic. “You can even have your own room.”

“Thank you, but no thank you,” he replied. “I would feel much better out in the open air. It’s just the way I am, I’m afraid.”

“Alright, I’ll sleep out here too,” said Friedrich, fully understanding the way of life Pheston was used to and the level of distance he tried to create between himself and potential threats. “It’ll save me a few kupons. But let’s get ourselves a hot meal before anything resting our heads on the damp soil.”

“You lot go on ahead,” said Pheston, walking on without looking back. “I’ll see you ladies in the morning. Friedrich, don’t feel any obligation to accompany me. I’ll be alright.”

He held up the back his hand in a wave and disappeared on up the road while Friedrich, Marina and Teleri stood by, unsure of what to say to the old man.

“Let us go and eat,” said Teleri, breaking the silence. “Pity will not ease our hunger.”

“Do you feel pity for him?” asked Marina. “You’ve been nothing but cold to him since we met him.”

“He has a troubled past, but I think it’s safe to say that we all do,” she replied before sneering at Marina. “Even if some of us won’t admit it.”

“This is not about me.”

“No, it is not. If the man wants to wallow, so be it. Considering the atrocities the Northmen have committed against the Alauri throughout time, I am sure he will forget about his problems.”

“You don’t know what it’s like to be a human,” said Friedrich angrily. “You’ve lived many more years than he has and will live for many more, long after the rest of us are dead and buried. But what you fail to grasp is that most of his life is gone, wasted because of a magical accident. He’s been through literal hell and is still alive to tell the tale.” Friedrich shook his head. “I’m going after him.”

“Should we come?” asked Marina with a trembling voice.

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“No,” said the Mercian. “I think it would be best if we meet up again in the morning.”

Marina sighed and put her finger to her chin as Friedrich departed. “Perhaps we’ve all been on the water too long.”

“I do not think it is that,” said Teleri, walking towards the inn that faced the sea. “In any case, I suspect we will feel better when we are on the road.”

As the girls headed inside, Friedrich walked along the cobblestones of the quiet town on the nippy evening. He passed by a bronze statue surrounded by flowers depicting a tall man wearing a cape who held a sword to the sky. Normally, he would have taken a second to admire the statue, but he gave it little thought and walked on past.

Friedrich followed the uphill path outside of town and could see the broad figure of the grey-haired man whose hammer swung by his waist. He took Kitt’s form and bounded along after Pheston, who continued to walk, unaware that he was being tailed by the golden fox he had seen daily in Keldracht for the last three months.

The path became less cared for as the houses vanished with the stones being more spread apart before disappearing entirely into a dirt road. Friedrich was starting to wonder just how far Pheston planned to go when the old man paused and looked to his left, opting to go pass through a wider gap in the trees and into a small clearing.

He stopped in the centre, leaving a trail of damp flattened grass behind him while Friedrich waited at the edge, not wanting to intrude straight away. The old man dragged his hand down his face and let out a gruff grunt of admonishment.

“What are you doing, you old coot?” he whispered to himself. “Can’t even handle a stay in the inn.”

Friedrich watched and waited for a minute before Pheston started slowly creeping forwards to the trees. The old man kept low and held a hand to his ear, listening for the faintest of calls from a pheasant or the snort of a wild boar.

The young Mercian decided it was time and walked up beside. He looked up to the old man who gave him a frown.

“Boy, what are you doing here?”

Friedrich sniffed the air and then pointed a paw towards a bush up ahead.

“Fine…”

Pheston edged forwards, trying to keep his rustling to a minimum; it was no easy task in a region of thick forest like Eastern Mercia. In Keldracht, the soil was dull and the trees and bushes were sparse and lifeless, making noise a much lesser concern. When faced with thick leaves and many intermixed scents, even hunting simple creatures became difficult. The old man knew this as well as Friedrich did and silently appreciated the help.

Holding his hammer out, Pheston willed the shaft to lengthen. He drew it up high and then plunged it down upon the bush, which let loose a caw and a crack. Sensing his kill, he restored Vigr to its normal length and walked over to the bush, pulling out the pheasant that he would make his dinner.

“Trifling compared to a snappajaw,” he said to Friedrich, who morphed back into his human form.

“Maybe so, but it’ll keep your stomach from tying itself in knots,” said the young man.

“I feel useless here, Friedrich,” said Pheston, shaking his head despondently. “In Keldracht, I knew exactly what I had to do and when. I knew where I could and couldn’t go. On the boat, I had restrictions and was surrounded by the border of the ocean and that was just fine, but finding myself so close to home…it just feels like I shouldn’t be here.”

“I understand. I may not have been trapped in another plane for as long as you, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t strange for me too.”

“Not as long as me doesn’t quite cover it, does it?”

“No, maybe not.”

“When you were following me, did you see the statue of Thadeus the Bolt?” asked Pheston pensively. “They say he saved the town from a band of orcs back when it was a mere village. No doubt a challenge, but that one act of bravery is remembered almost three hundred years later.”

“You learned all of that in the sixty seconds you were out of my sight?” asked Friedrich in surprise.

“I looked at the plaque, you nitwit,” sighed Pheston before giving a faint smile. “Did you know that at least once a week, I would scrawl the alphabet in the soil of Keldracht and then write out a few short poems or stories. I reckon I would have forgotten how to read and write had I not done that. Same reason that I would force myself to speak aloud often so that I would not forget how to speak.”

“You still did that sometimes when I was around.”

“Truthfully? I was constantly afraid that you would die and I would be left alone again. Every single person I met in that miserable hole always died, even when I tried my hardest to save them. Demons could break them or their own minds would do it, but it always happened. But that miserable hole slowly became home to me, for better or worse.”

“It’s strange to hear you talk about fear and misery,” said Friedrich slowly. “You were the one keeping me strong. Even when you were crushing my hopes of escape—”

“Managing expectations.”

“Call it what you want, it doesn’t matter. What I’m trying to say is that if you hadn’t helped me, neither of us would be here today. You kept me sane in Keldracht and I’ll keep you sane here in Mercia.”

“Until we get to Corobath, you get that gift I promised and the three of you run for the hills,” said Pheston letting out a hearty guffaw.

“And you still aren’t going to tell us what those gifts are, are you?”

“I’ll let you know when I know, lad,” said the smith twirling his hammer. “I’m sure it won’t be hard to source what I want, but I’m not going to make promises that I can’t keep.”

“I’d like a new sword,” said Friedrich, tapping his sheathed blade. “I’ve got my enchanted shield, and it’s great, but a better weapon wouldn’t hurt.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” said Pheston, grunting as he heaved up his trousers and tightened his belt. “Now, do you want to turn back into that golden rat form of yours and sniff out a second helping? We’ve got a long road ahead of us to reach the Forge of Ages.”

“Excuse me? You never mentioned where in Corobath we were going until now.”

“I didn’t?” asked Pheston, feigning ignorance. “Huh, perhaps not.”

“And there was me thinking that we were going to find your family.”

“Wouldn’t know where to start, lad. At least with the Forge of Ages, I know exactly where I’m going. And mark my words, it’s going to be worth the journey.”