Exhausted, Parcival stopped, the cape hugged his back from sweat and dust. He took it off then shook the dust and draped it over an arm. It sure was a long way to the next town. His body dripped with sweat making the padding in the chest piece itch. He set the heavy statue on the grass.

The midday sun was unrelenting, why did it have to be so hot? He plopped down on a stump, and then pulled off a boot to rub his aching blister-covered feet. Awful, black luck is what it was. The statue of Elaema cracking like that! Father will be disappointed as this gift was to help smooth over the new treaty with the Magistrate in the city of city Belllain.

He picked up the statue running his fingers over the cracks. It's now worthless. Ah. I just have to buy a new one, of course, the next town might have a goddess shrine.

A woman screamed, this echoed far off ahead shattering the quiet of the forest; a second one came—it was closer now—ringing louder with each second. Parcival stood and repressed a shout. No, better wait and see.

A pounding of hooves nearby.

Over there?

Half a breath later, a twig snapped. A tall young elfin woman stepped out of the forest on the side of the path, breathing hard. She glanced about. The sun reflected off her silky brown skin, her large eyes a ageless brown, the whites showing too much for comfort. Her leather armor pierced through on the side, the shoulder straps, and back and apt to fall apart at any moment. The worst of the wounds on her side she covered; the blood trickling over her long fingers.

This... how did she come over here? The Elvin iles were about 3k leagues away, they never left it was just too far. And she's injured.

The woman swerved at him her cloudy lush ringlets lashed around her face, like a pale blue floating spirit; she ignored him, her long ears twitched while she scanned the area.

Each second dragged on. She tried to run past him, almost in a blur. He held his arms out.

"Let me pass!" Her breath quickened to tiny harsh pulls.

"You're injured! Come with me. I can help!" I hope this isn't a mistake, there's got to be a reason why she's running away. He stood to his full height cracking his back a little in process.

She gave him a side eye before watching again. "Be quiet, human; they'll hear you," she said. Her tone danced with a light musical quality.

There was shouting of men on horseback in the woods on both sides.

"Look, I appreciate the gesture but I don't need your help at this time. Now move away." Her tone was slow and gentle now, and her eyes and face softened a fraction.

He stepped away. "Good luck to you."

She ran leaping away and streaked down the path. Admiring her slender shape for a moment as she melted away into the forest like a wisp of smoke. Reading of the Elvin in tales was quite different from the reality. What am I thinking? This isn't the time for this. A quick mental shake and he tried focusing on the area's surrounding sounds. A soft thudding a ways away?

Should I leave, hide? No they're the one's bothering me. After several minutes, the clopping came from behind. Two brash soldiers thrashed clumsily through the underbrush on horseback at the edge of the path. I need to think of something and quick.

A guard of pale complexion like vomited milk pointed at him. "Has a vulgar Elven woman ran by here?"

So crass. He resisted a sudden urge to pull the insolent man off the saddle and throttle him.

"Whom do think you are ordering?" His tone deepened. The man must be mad, such complete disrespect was unthinkable, but now wasn't the time to lash out. His eyes narrowed.

He adjusted the emblem crest on his shoulder with slow and exaggerated movements. Father had it specially made so there would be no confusion among the foreigners, most knew what the emblems meant.

"You will address me with respect or not at all." How dare he. The lout! His eyelid twitched. Can't gather information from the dead.

The guard's lids become slits. "I see. You're one of them. So be it. I don't need an army of Guardians of Olenus interfering."

He stood up straighter.

"I saw no one." No one more vulgar than you. He kept his hand on top of his scabbard. The woman appeared more frightened out of her wits than anything else. By Olenus, his breath is going to melt my brain. He tried to stay calm and ignored his heart beat as it grew faster, not everyone respected the Guardians.

"If I find out you have lied, even Olenus and the knights won't be able to protect you." The man's eye lines tightened. Pulling back the horse, he spat on the ground. His face slipped into shadow.

The other men raced off following behind the lead guard. Or am assuming he is one. He leaned against a tee, this whole time his heart decided to do a pounding in his ears loud enough that they'd notice for sure. Guess not.

He sprinted toward the town to reach it before sunset. Grandmother's tales of the creatures that came out at night brought images of piles of gleaming bones to mind. A pack of wolfren howled. He hurried along the path.

Hours later on the road, he found a ride from a traveling merchant.

Two gentle beasts pulled it forward. Graluvs. Perhaps there were better animals for this labor but none as gentle.

Their tall stick-like legs were surprisingly agile, a polarity to the baby seal like round bodies on top; their fur it covered the entire torso. As a kid I'd always wanted one as a pet, but there really isn't any building tall enough for them to rest in. The young had fur of calico with spotted blotches stood seven feet tall and weaved in and out of the adult's legs as they played. When it rolled over another large rock, the wagon jolted and stood on two wheels.

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He gripped the sides and hung on. The wagon whopped back down a second later. The old man grabbed his straw hat before it flew away in the updraft.

"Must you have that three-legged walking stick going over every rock you see? It must be the twentieth time today."

His back itched; he tried reaching the itchy spot but was vexed by the hard armor. Should have bought something more mandible.

The grizzled man leaned over the seat. "Don't get snippy at me young man, considering you are getting a free ride."

"My apologies."

"As I said before, we will be at the town sometime tomorrow, so get some rest." The old man reached over to the Graluv and patted it as it turned along the path.

An hour later the beast became spooked from a pack of running wild wholly Acrnohairs, and almost swerved off the road, but calmed as the old man talked sweetly to it. The trip had taken longer than I planned. Wonder if that woman is still alive?

They arrived at the town at midday.

"By the way, take care the bandits around here, they tend to ambush travelers following along the road to the city."

He pointed with his hand to several carved runes. "Thank you for your concern, but I have a protective ward carved into my cart. Catch ya around. I need to head off soon to the market city of Luna-jer."

"Fair travels be with you and may the sun shine bright!" He bowed his head slightly, then walked further up to the town gate.

In the town, he wiped the sweat dripping from his brow due to the heat. Stopping for a moment under the refreshing shade of a tree near the entrance. His stomach growled for the second time that day. He sucked on his tongue the dry air made it fat and dry. Now, where was the inn? That's assuming there is one. A woman exited her house nearby; she tripped over a rock near him and stumbled. Stinking, rank water splashed him soaking him to the skin.

The armor he held clattered to the ground. Picking it up, he brushed soaking wet hair away from his cheek with a free hand.

"Dang it, woman; watch what you are doing!"

"Ooh, apologies, I didn't realize you was there." The woman cringed.

He bit his tongue. My yelling at her wouldn't fix anything.

"It is all right."

He picked the armor up and continued toward the Inn. Shouldn't have snapped at her, need to stop daydreaming. Inside a small inn, he plopped down on the nearest stool.

"So, what's your name?" An innkeeper washed the counter with a rag and looked up as he entered.

He averted his gaze from the mass of facial scars and pretend to fiddle with his cloak. "Sir Parcival of the third district of Luna-jer."

The man's lip twitched and he grinned. He looked to be a veteran of the last war. "Sir yet. Hey, Luna we have a sir gracing our inn."

A woman came from the kitchen covered in flour, her hair up in a loose bun. "Quit pokn' at the man and give him a drink." She went back inside.

"I'm Ulpar." His eyebrows arched and he crinkled his nose.

"Young man, if you be served here, you bathe first! We'll talk later." He whistled through a deep scar that split the edge of his lip.

"Yes of course." Parcival pulled at the wet padded under armor; the water weighed it and it kept sliding down and leaned over placing the breastplate on the floor.

"Take him upstairs and draw him a bath; he stinks!" Uplar waved to a barmaid nearby.

"Come on, the sooner you're clean, the better." Her hips moved to and fro' with that feminine gait only women possessed.

Up to the second floor, a room had a large white-footed bathtub. She dumped cold water into it, then tapped a flat gray heat stone that turned bright red. She picked it up wrapped it in a thick cloth. The cloth started to smoke; she tossed it into the tub. After several seconds, steam rose from the tub.

She swirled in some soap agitating it into a froth of bubbles. As she walked out the door, she handed a long-handled scrub brush to him.

"When you're clean, come down and eat— Sir. Chamber pot," she said.

She closed the door.

"Sure, thanks." He grumbled.

After, he found his clothing folded on a bench in the hallway. She must have washed and cleaned it. That was nice. After he dressed, he went downstairs.

Ulpar smiled at him. "Well, now how are you enjoying my inn?"

"It's—cozy" It wasn't the biggest or the best but as long as people weren't boorish then that's what matters.

"And, your name?" He tapped the counter absentmindedly

Ulpar filled a mug with ale and pushed it toward him. "Ulpar. Now, do you want something to eat?"

"No thank you, keep the ale coming. It's been a long day." Dropping ten tiny opals on the counter, they clattered and glittered. Ulpar grinned and quickly scooped them up.

#####

A few hours later, his vision blurry, he stumbled up the stairs slid into the bed falling asleep.

Early the next morning the sunlight filled the room with a golden hue. After dressing, he left a few small opals near the washbasin. On his way outside, a middle-class man playing the violin coaxed a soothing tone from it. It was nice to see a little culture out here in this mud bucket of a town.

"You are very good; here is a pence for you."

He took the opals, dropping them into his untied pouch, then bowed with arms outstretched. "Thank you, sir."

The warm sun ah, it felt good. The scorching heat had finally eased off. He stretched his arms going up and down the narrow streets. That was too generous they didn't qualify as a street, more like trails scuffed down between the houses and shacks by the daily to and fro' of the villager's feet.

Children ran through the streets playing a relaxed version of Orb Ringer. One of the more energetic children overshot the target, the green orb that floated in midair between all of them. It zipped free and stopped near his nose. He held his hands out in front of him and controlled the red orb sending it back into the boy's hands.

The boy jumped up to grab it. "Thanks, mister!"

"Be more careful next time."

"Yea." The boy ran off with his friends in the small town park.

Children. He groaned. The last conversation with Father had been a long one going on about finding a wife and forgetting adventuring. What about what I want? Is it so strange to want to see the world first? Must I marry like everyone else? Some friends would be nice; I don't need a wife. I'm happy enough. Maybe I could start up an alchemist shop here and learn new potions, or research the fabled Elixir of Life. This town isn't bad at all, it has a cozy charm about it.

He continued walking around the town, watching the comings and goings of the people. It could be worse, I could have been born as a royal. At least making the attempt would stop Father's incessant lectures about carrying on the bloodline.

Wandering around the town, he found a modest pavilion in the middle. On it several lutes and violin players.

Among them a woman dressed in a transparent outfit that hinted at her lithe form. Her wispy veils shimmered and flowed around her as she swayed and leaped to the alacrity music. She did an effortless somersault and landed lightly on her feet. The crowd standing before the pavilion clapped and whistled at her. She flashed a smile and leaped into the air. She then landed on a wooden bench, tilted it up with her feet, and balanced on its end on the pads of her feet.

"Well done!" He tossed in a few silver.

She bowed, an elegant sweeping motion of her arms, craned her neck her sharp blue eyes gleaming, they locked onto his for a moment before she broke contact and danced before the crowd again. How winsome and free she is I wish I could do the same. Maybe later.

The crowd clapped louder and the most affluent spectators tossed gold coins into a large bowl in front of the pavilion. The sun lowered in the sky, casting shadows marking the end of the day. The entertainers bowed, then packed up their things and wandered off.

Back to the Inn, the homes had candles and lamps that gave a warm pale effulgent glow. After a quick supper of roasted vegetables, he climbed into the soft bed. An image broke his peaceful thoughts. Hope she's well, poor creature. Crickets chirped, filling the night air with their song. He snuffed out the candles and watched the smoke as it yielded to the window draft.