The Dragonslayer was squatted next to a stray dog in the empty streets. Just a few hours ago, the festive had raged like no tomorrow. Now, tomorrow had come. A scorched trunk was all that remained of the burned tree. Here and there, an animal was busy sniffing the spoiled food. For some, the party just started.

The dog next to him was old and grey. It was a meagre beast with a paw that once had intimate contact with a cartwheel. The Dragonslayer wondered why the beast sat next to him while there was so much easy food to be gained.

'You know, this is the easiest time to get food for a whole year.’

The dog heaved his ears and looked at him.

‘You think I need more help than you? What could you do for me?’

The dog whined and placed his head on his paws.

‘We take better care of strangers than ourselves, that's the truth. So what? We pretend to be lone wolves, but that's bullshit. We can't live with ourselves, that's why we need other people. Even more than food.’

The dog closed its eyes.

Don't think I’ll feed you though. I don’t do charity.

The door opened and the dog growled at the door. The Dragonslayer did not budge.

‘Here you are,’ Garvin said. ‘Getting along with the locals?’

The Dragonslayer smirked and patted the dog. ’He can’t talk back but he is one heck of a listener. How was your date?’

Garvin squatted next to them, leaving the dog in the middle. He released a loud groan. ‘It was too good to be true. But it was true.’

His friend nodded and hummed. Did you, at any given moment wonder why she even bothered to deal with a sad sod as yourself?’

‘Yes, the whole time!’ Garvin exclaimed.

‘It must have been one hell of a date, then.’

‘She’s smart, sensible, funny. And wise, like she lived more than me. Like she asked herself more questions than I ever did.’

The dragonslayer looked Garvin directly in the eye. ‘Do you want to stay?’

‘Stay? With her, you mean? I made a promise to you. To myself. To get you to the library, so I will stick to that. Besides, I don't think I would be interesting enough for her. Especially not if I stop my quest halfway.’ While Garvin said that, the Dragonslayer scratched his arms and smiled weirdly.

‘Ah, young boy love, the truest magic aside to massive fireballs and growing vines,’ the Dragonslayer said. ‘It hurts for a week but gets better. Just focus on how awesome I am.’

Garvin laughed. But secretly he thought of the girl from his village. She seemed lifetimes away. Like a dream after waking up. Still, she was not as forgotten as he wished.

‘Let’s leave before the town comes alive again,’ Garvin said.

He got up and closed the door behind him. The Dragonslayer was wrapped in silence again. The dog looked at the birds.

‘Yeah, I know. The boy’s all I got, I could show him some niceness.’ The Dragonslayer got up and brushed off the bits of straw from his pants. Then he stretched and yawned. ‘Time to go.’

Just on the outskirts of the village, as they passed the last farms, they met an old fellow. He was busy strapping some belts around two rather small, brown horses. They were in front of a cart with two large wheels.

‘Greetings,’ Garvin said as they passed him. The man looked to clean to have come from afar.

‘I see I’m not the only one sneaking away of town,’ the man said.

‘Maybe we can travel together?’ Garvin suggested.

‘That depends on where you are going. I for one need to go to Cord. I need to say sorry to someone.’

‘Who would that be?’ the Dragonslayer asked. Involuntarily, he was intrigued by this remarkable quest.

The old man closed his eyes, for a moment it seemed he would tear up. He placed his dirty hand on his forehead. When he opened his eyes again, a single tear rolled from his cheek onto the tip of his chin. ‘My ex-wife. My old beloved ex-wife.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I did.. I was.. The thing is that when I was younger, -’

The Dragonslayer laughed, ‘Talk-therapy, great. Garvin, tell your story of the girl from yesterday. Maybe you can even start a club.’

But Garvin just sighed and urged the old man to continue. The Dragonslayer stood behind them and whistled a tune.

The old man wiped his face and his face hardened. ‘If you help me to get this cart attached, I could give you a ride. Decide later if you wish to go to Cord or not.

On moments like this one, he could slap the Dragonslayer. Garvin was sure the old man was about to tell his story.

‘The name is Berouw, who are you?

‘I am Garvin, and that is the Dragonslayer.’

‘Dragonslayer, huh? I heard he was a brigand.’

‘Well, you heard wrong, old man. I am the epiphany of heroes!’

‘The epitome, you must mean.’

‘Exactly what I said!’

So they helped the old man and then stepped on his cart. The slowness and the little change of view, which was pastries and lonely trees for most of the day, left Garvin with nothing to do but to talk to the old man. Berouw told him about Dianne, and how she once fell into the river. Unfortunately, he didn’t know many other stories about her.

Garvin wrote her a letter in his book. Staring at the horizon between every few words.

‘Berouw is a strange name, sounds a lot like burrow. As in a burrow, a place to hide,’ the Garvin said.

‘We are all hiding and running from certain things, some don’t even know what they are hiding from,’ Berouw said. ‘Maybe your silent friend knows.’ He nodded at the Dragonslayer.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

‘We’re all hiding from ourselves, that's why they invented quests. Everything is a distraction because the only other thing we can do is sit with ourselves and go insane.’

‘I preferred him in silence,’ Garvin chuckled. The Dragonslayer had been more down than usual, but Garvin didn’t know why. Yet, he didn’t speak about it, his friend wasn’t one for talking about feelings.

The cart just climbed a little hill and went downward again, the sun was at his highest. The horses waved their tails, flies jumped up only to land again and further annoy the beasts. They had just let the horses drink at a nearby well and were continuing when Garvin finally found the nerve to ask the old man directly what happened.

‘When I was younger, I was in love with this beautiful woman. We were happy together, but you see, she wanted more,’ Berouw said.

‘- the oldest std in the world, children,’ the Dragonslayer whispered.

‘-She wanted children. Now you see, I felt not ready. I was too young, I didn’t see the world. Heck, I barely saw the end of the street. So I did something so cruel, and unimaginable, especially not for me. I stole some poison from a witch and poured it in her drink one night. I took her ability to ever bear children away.’

Garvin gasped for air. The man seemed somehow strengthened, finally being able to speak.

‘The years went by, and I kept my mouth shut. She got desperate, but the more compassion I showed, the more I felt like a fraud. Eventually, I cracked and told her the truth.’

His breath became ragged like fluids were stuck in his lungs.

‘So she promptly left me. A few years later I remarried, and nine months later, I had my first son. But the guilt, the guilt was still consuming me from the inside. I didn’t deserve anything that I had. Not my new wife, not my children, not my easy life in this easy town. Now I realise I not only wasted her life but also theirs. I didn’t deserve to be happy, so I made everyone miserable.’

‘What do you expect to gain from an apology to your first wife?’ the Dragonslayer asked. ‘Maybe you should apologise to your new family instead. So they at least know why you were a worthless father and husband.’

Garvin stared at the Dragonslayer, he had never looked so mad. ‘Can’t you see that he is grief-stricken?’

‘I can, but it doesn’t mean I agree with him or he deserves my pity.’

‘What do I deserve?’ the man asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Garvin said.

Her name was Jubel. And I took her greatest gift away. The gift of life.’ The man didn’t say anything after that. He just stared at the road ahead.

When they made camp, they were close to a little creek. They could hear a waterfall in the distance. It was hot and humid, and mosquitoes were flying around the fire.

The old man was staring at the setting sun, his back against the fire. The Dragonslayer was poking the fire with a long stick. Garvin was laying flat on the ground with his arms behind his head. He was staring at the low-hanging clouds.

The horses were attached to a strong oak, they were searching the ground for grass.

‘You haven’t told me yet where you are going to,’ Berouw said. ‘Should I be worried you steal my horses and leave me in the wilderness?’

‘We’re also going to Cord,’ the Dragonslayer said.

‘We are?’ Garvin asked.

‘Yeah, we need to stop the shadowbeasts. And I believe they all come from, or at least gather, at the black temple. Maybe we can rally some heroes and cleanse the place.’

There was a shimmer of light in the eyes of his friend. Garvin didn’t think he had seen him like that ever. As determined and stubborn.

‘So, we go to Cord, rally the heroes and then move to the Black Temple?’ Garvin was holding his book tightly to his chest. ‘I think its a great idea. Everyone will know you’re still a hero.’

The Dragonslayer smirked. ‘I don’t do it for myself. Screw what the world thinks about me.’

‘I’m sorry. I meant, it’s the right thing to do. I respect you for it.’ Garvin was taken aback by his friend’s reaction.

‘You don’t understand, dude. So just shut up.’

‘Then explain it to me.’

‘Why so rude all of a sudden?’ Berouw asked.

‘Because Aigle’s dead.’

‘You mean LaFleche? Someone killed LaFleche? The greatest hunter in all of Ar’Moor?’ Berouw said.

Garvin gasped for air. ‘No! You said she went south!’

‘She died! A shadowbeast pierced her body. I was too late to save her.’

‘No! I mean, it's not possible. She.. She..’

‘She’s dead. I buried her myself. So don’t call me a hero. If I were one, I would have saved her. I would have been in time.’

Garvin got up and walked over to his friend.

‘Don’t hug me! Dude!’ the Dragonslayer pushed him away. Garvin fell next to the fire and sprang up again.

The Dragonslayer thought of the time he almost burned his friend to crisps. He turned around and walked away.

‘Where are you going?’ Garvin asked. ‘Wait!’

But the Dragonslayer disappeared.

‘He is a complicated man.’ Berouw said. He stood next to Garvin and stared at the direction the Dragonslayer stormed off.

‘I think he loved her.’ Garvin whispered

In silence, he made a vow to look for Dianne once he had completed his quest.

‘He will be back,’ Berouw said. ‘Next morning we continue towards Cord.’

But he didn’t come back. The Dragonslayer was nowhere to be seen, and they decided to continue. It would be easy enough for them to be found.

Berouw was less talkative than the day before. Perhaps he felt that he got closer and closer to his final judgement. With every step, he came closer to the thing he feared the most. Garvin couldn’t even imagine what it must be like. To face the person you have destroyed. He wondered what his wife must have been like. Friendly and warm before, now vengeful and full of hatred. Grey of old age and a heavy heart. Or drowning her sorrows in drinks, as the Dragonslayer does.

‘This must be a boring entry in your book. Just a day of silence,’ the old man said.

‘Well,’ Garvin said. ‘Usually, I skip the parts where nothing happens.’

‘And what if you could skip years? What if the story isn’t even worth writing down?’

‘I don’t think this is such a story,’ Garvin said.

‘My story has three memorable chapters. And in neither of them, I play the hero. Maybe it’s foolish to ask for forgiveness. I bet she doesn’t even want to see me. If she’s still alive.’

Garvin wondered if you do something but fail at it. Does it still count for something? Is the act more important or the idea? He couldn’t be as hard with old Berouw, like the Dragonslayer. He needed to hope, not just for Berouw, but for himself.

‘Whatever happens, you won’t regret going,’ Garvin said.