Something called outside that sounded like someone had stepped on a rooster half way through its call. Whatever the poor thing was it survived as it called again and then once more. He could hear the sounds of daily life start up outside as shop doors were thrown open and people called morning greetings to each other.
Micheal felt good. Human. Coming awake next to another person was a sensation he had almost forgotten. The night with Vivian and waking at her side was a much welcome start to his recovery. The heat of summer night had made them abandon all but the thinnest of blankets. Still most of the sweat was between him and Vee where she was half glued to his side. Vi? Vivian? Vivian. He had no idea when they had passed out-there wasn't exactly a new well lit digital clock for him to glance at before bed- but she had her back against him now, and somewhere in the night her ponytail had come loose and her hair lay about over his face and body adding insulation to the heat of their bodies where they touched.
Her strong slender limbs lay on him with the laxity of sleep. Her body fit neatly into the space of his arms with her back pressed to his chest. She had wider shoulders than probably all the women of the village matching her height, but she looked small and relaxed tucked into him the way she was. Like that with her hair in a mess and her face relaxed in sleep she seemed prettier than she had been last night. Her unguarded vulnerability as she slept in his arms adding something so subtle and critical. Even if one of his arms was definitely asleep as it was making up most of her pillow there wasn't anything short of the room being on fire that would have motivated him to move just then.
When he moved his feet away from her, her legs moved so as to have them touch again and it made her stir a little. He watched her breathe, the gentle rise and fall doing wonderful things to the way the morning light touched her skin. She had the light frame of which he could only compare to an Olympic athlete like a runner or swimmer. The adventurer's mark on her back was nearly as wide as both of his hands together and situated between her shoulder blades though the bronze outline made artful loops and twirls near to the tops of her shoulders and half way down her back. That was joined by various little and sometimes sizable scars about her body. He touched them gently wondering what stories came with each scar and doing that caused Vivian to stir and turn over. She made a soft sound as she came away and came back to him with her eyes still closed.
She pressed back against him as she took a deep breath. He watched appreciatively at what the following stretching did to the lovely lines of her body. He leaned into her a little and kissed her shoulder. He wanted to pull her in and take her again, but something told him she wouldn't go for that and he didn't want to seem pushy.
Sleepily she looked over at him.
“See I told you there would be plenty of room.” She said with a happy sleep-addled smile. “Just had to get sweaty enough so it didn't matter how we slept. Just got us nice and tired so we'd stay asleep.” She closed her lovely green eyes and smiled widely. “I say that should be a general practice when we stay in Inn's don't you think?” She asked with a playful light in her eyes that surprised him as much as it made a great and new excited warmth fill his chest and thrum with the beats of his heart.
He laughed, shaking his head and pulled her close to kiss her cheek and just to hold her against him a little while longer. Her arms clung to him as he did and she took a deep breath as if she too were savoring the moment. She leaned into him softly letting out a small pleased sound.
“Let's towel off and I can go get your things from those stores. I'm not sure if that man at the cobbler will have your boots done quite yet since you're a size of your own, but the tailor should be done and at least then we'll have something other than rags to fit you.” She said still not letting go of his arms.
“You mentioned some time yesterday that you wanted to get going in the morning?” He asked and she nodded before releasing her grip and then to his slight surprise rolling over in place to face him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself close. Her legs tangled in between his and she locked her ankles around the backs of his. She buried her face into his chest and sighed.
“Thank you for accepting me.” She whispered her cheeks warm in the small space between them and his skin. “I should have mentioned that adventurers aren't used to getting a lot of time for these things or at least any kind of courting. Our marks often leave us a little paranoid and afraid to stay in places long. Once you get going you learn its always best to keep moving and to find something, a posting, maybe a quest from some lord, or a regular old monster hunt to keep whatever is following you in mark at your back. Sometimes if you work hard enough you can catch up to it on the long way round before it catches you, but until then your life is about your mark and what you can do to avoid hurting people by not meeting whatever destiny fate has in mind. That doesn't always leave time to do things the traditional ways. So I'm sorry if I've seemed a little forward.”
She paused breathing in the air between them again. They shared a small glance as she looked up at him and he saw the colors in her cheeks indicating her embarrassment, but also the spark of something hopeful in her eyes.
He smiled at her and touched his forehead to hers. She let out a relieved little sigh in response. Her hands tightened on his neck at about the same moment as his arms pulled her a little closer. After that she lifted her head and looked at him. The uncertainty and nervous energy was gone, all replaced by determination and confidence.
“With your mark turned iron like it has we should move on toward Three Bridge or Mayonn. There will be more adventurers there, a good deal of fresh postings for us to consider, and one of the guild branches where we can register you as an official member of the Unbroken Guard if you still want to by the time we get there. The guild takes a portion of quest rewards and bounties on notices you complete, but you can also just turn in those quest and monster notices at a Guild Association branch office or a drop box for a mail carrier instead of finding the poster. There's lots of access a guild can provide you too, and more benefits. Armorers and crafters work for our guild and if you get them the resources they will often make what you want free of charge as long as you are in good standing with us. That alone can make back what the guild takes of your rewards.”
“How long will it take to get to those places?” he asked.
“To get to Three bridge by roads would be a week or more walking, but the town is way bigger than Mayonn, and there are more resources. If we went the direct route we shave a few days off going through the wild, but it will be more dangerous since we'll be away from the patrols and could stumble on orcs or any other kind of monster out there.” She answered while drawing a line through the air with her finger as if she were pointing at a map.
“Mayonn is four days off if we take our time on the roads, and it's a direct route too. We could still see monsters on these back roads, but it shouldn't be anything really dangerous. Maybe you can just club it to death with what I'll be teaching you on the way there. I'm not sure if you saw me fight with it, but my main weapon is a spear.” She pointed to the corner by the door behind them. He leaned over to look at it. It had a long white shaft and silvery spear head with vine carvings spreading from the base of the spearhead down the shaft. Next to it leaning against the wall were her two straight bladed short swords that looked a little more like human make than the spear just by the look of the plain leather handles and the lightly decorated steel of the hilt and pommel.
“You say that like you want to run into monsters.” She patted his arms with her hand and nodded to affirm his statement.
“It's what we do.” She answered.
He let her sit up and go to the wash basin. She spilled water into the bowl from a large vase and drew up the clean towel from the stand to wipe at her face, arms, and chest, before looking over her shoulder at him with a scowl on her face as he watched her. She was enchantingly beautiful as she moved even with the light lines of minor wounds and jagged aged marks of deeper wounds on her body.
He nodded and sat up in the bed to follow after her.
She laughed and removed the nights sweat with efficient motions before getting dressed. He went to the stand once she was done, did the same as she had, and when he asked what to do with it she pointed to the window. Outside there was a small trough, a rain gutter really, just below the window where a little water ran down already. He poured it into the gutter and watched it go down the slant to the far side of the building and spill into a low trench carved into the side of the dirt street. That was certainly neat, but seemed like only half a step off from being real plumbing.
Soon he was alone and waiting for Vivian to return. He thought about the drastic change that had happened. He really liked Vivian and looked forward to spending more time with her. He ran his hand through his hair and felt at where he must have had his head cracked open. His memories were certainly fuzzier now. He hardly remembered more than the past few years of his life. He missed his bed though the inn's mattresses were certainly nicer than....than the... anyway he had spent his first good amount of cash on a nice mattress. He hoped his brother or someone in his family was making use of it. And he hoped his dad could figure out the code to his safe. And more than that he missed his cat. He hoped someone in his family thought of Dennis after he died or disappeared or whatever had happened on that end of reality. He was a very good, very fat, very cuddly cat, who liked nothing more than to be bathed twice a week, brushed to a shine everyday, and fed regularly.
Thinking of his obese cat made him think of something though. Maybe he could get a familiar here. Whatever he got wouldn't replace Dennis, not entirely, but it might fill a little bit of the hole of not having his cuddly fur ball at his side. Dennis even liked to sit out on his dads boat when they went fishing. He would flop over and lay like a puddle in the front of the boat right in the middle of everything, bell on his collar jingling as they went over the waves. Maybe he could manage a panther or something like that for a familiar if magic was truly in store for him. It should be considering the nature of magic he had written into the setting. He would have to ask Vivian if he might be able to get something like that someday. She had said she had seen summoners and the like hadn't she? He hadn't exactly planned magic like that, but there was stuff like that in Dungeons and Dragons so maybe it was in the setting now like whatever these marks were about since he had run the setting using their rules. That would be fun. There certainly was no class system he had run into yet so he didn't think the whole system made it over into his creation.
He realized then he had never thought of his cat throughout his days of being a slave. Maybe he hadn't wanted to think of what those orcs would do to his furry friend. The goblins would have tried to eat him for certain. He shook his head and fought back a few tears.
He had suddenly thought of his dad, and how he had never been able to say goodbye to him. They were on good terms unlike so many people he knew seemed to be with their fathers, and talked and fished regularly together. His mom had always been there, yes, but the bond had been between him and dad for the longest time. Oh they fought sometimes and argued when Micheal was younger only as much as most young men did, but his dad was his best friend now. He wouldn't trade that for anything. He hoped he was coping all right. He hoped his mom was okay.
It tore him up inside to think of what they might be going through at that moment, and what they had suffered learning of his death. He hoped they knew he loved them both so very much. He never did really believe in god or really have any sort of faith, but if he did he would have prayed then for something to comfort his grieving parents. He wiped his eyes with the sheet and tried to get his thoughts a little more in order, but it was hard to push his sorrow aside. He wanted to get up and move, to do something, but he hadn't got those clothes back yesterday. They were a little temporary, and just shy of worthless. There was the robe still hanging near the door, but it was getting hotter inside and outside with the passing minutes. It left him sitting with one of the sheets over himself alone with his thoughts and idle hands.
The boots fit very well now that he had a little time walking in them. Vivian was worried about blisters as he broke them in, but the good wool stocking socks, while a little warm, breathed well and made for a good cushion in the laced up leather boots. They had a turned down tops, and some other antiquated features, but they were much like his work boots though they came a little bit higher up his ankle than he was used to. Micheal was just about fully decked out now and the boots were the last to be done. He was starting to feel like he was going on an adventure. Maybe a little more Sam and Frodo than he might have imagined for himself, but he finally had his right and proper beginning.
He had his pack full of useful gear. He had his two thumb thick quarterstaff in hand being used as a walking stick for now, and when they stopped for camp tonight he would learn to use it as more than a simple cudgel with Vivian's teaching. The clothes that had been made for him were a mix of wool and linen too. Leather patches covered the knees and elbows of his pants and coat reinforcing where they were most likely to get torn, and he had an extra set of clothes in his bag aside from what he wore. As well as four pairs of woolen underclothing that were more comfortable than he could imagine after going without for so long. Both trousers were dark green in color, the coat he wore was an earthy brown, and the other in his bag a heavy blue. His shirts were off white, tan, and the last two pure white ones of which he wore one now. The shirts had a laced opening at the front, the coat had a handful of hand carved wooden buttons, and the pants had three wooden toggle buttons to keep them closed besides the heavy saddle leather belt put through the loops. He even had a dark green waxed linen cloak ready in case those clouds over their head brought rain. It was tossed back over his shoulders and between him and his pack, but it was there.
His pouch and little skinning knife and fishing case were easy to reach and open now that he worked out the right spots for them to rest, and his pack felt like it hardly weighed anything at all aside from the gallon or more of water it held in the water skin. The summer heat beat down, but they passed under the trees now that had taken over once they had left the rows and rows of farm fields.
Vivian's pack was very much like his own, but broken in and sun stained from long days of travel afoot and on horseback. She walked beside him with her spear in hand, her woven leather cuirass in place over top of her usual clothes, and with both swords at her belt. She had a short bow unstrung and strapped against her pack that she used for hunting and sometimes for fishing, as well as a thin collapsing steel rod lined with rings that he was very pleased to recognize as a type of fishing rod through the eyes were a little odd with the shaft running inside the rings. She walked with her spear as a walking stick as well, but as much as she seemed to be used to it the curious white wood hardly seemed to have taken any marks for being used like that.
Birds sang. Bugs chirped, and cried, and made all sorts of noise just like back home. Here and there something would dig through the long grass between the trees or rattle some of the branches above. Squirrels here were twice the size of the gray squirrels he knew, but had patterns and coloring a lot like chipmunks. The birds were a wild spray of coloring sometimes darting out from the trees, they too were slightly larger than expected, but just as quick. They flashed past them and overhead in red and blues, a few oranges, and some yellow and black colors. He didn't know them like his bird watching uncles did, but they were a pretty sight for sure, new to his eyes and mind, and unafraid of people. And there were just so many. The forest outside the village was teeming with life.
“We'll want to get you used to using a sling or something I think.” Vivian said, breaking from the sounds of nature and the steady rhythm of their steps. “Those Barking Squirrel make a decent meal when stewed and what you keep hearing in the brush are Horned Rabbits, and maybe Hedge Weasels. The weasels coats sell for a decent amount in any village. Their fur is warm and pretty waterproof, good for winter. There's a stream ahead that we'll stop at to take a break for a while and I'll show you how to use those snares in the back left pocket of your pack. If we catch something there or snare something while we're fishing we'll cook them and then keep on or eat some of our rations before continuing on.”
He nodded, unable to keep the smile from his face. He had always wondered what it would be like to do something like this. He liked camping when he went most of the times he had done it. And he had never really gone backpacking which was a lot of what this was feeling like. Maybe if he had he would have been in better shape when he came here. Not that it mattered much now. It was only really a disappointment when he couldn't sit back and fish somewhere.
“If we catch a good deal of food we could even try to bait out a monster or two in the coming days. Bear Dogs have been seen near here, as well as Terror Ferrets. Both have good pelts and will be good for you to learn to skin. Not to mention that Ferret steaks are fantastic with a little herb and butter. Bear Dog is good too, but not as lean as the Ferret. They're also more dangerous.” She explained in a light and casual manner.
“What about deer? I haven't seen any.” He asked, trying to take the odd creatures she named in stride. She watched him as she spoke and walked, but she looked puzzled at his mention of deer.
“We could bait some Mouse Deer if we had some cheese, but they usually only come out at night.” She answered.
“What about Kangaroo Elk?” He asked, unable to keep a slightly mocking grin from his face.
She looked at him with an intrigued expression.
“What's a Kangaroo? There's Great Elk and Jack Elk near here, but they're pretty dangerous and we would need to purchase a harvesting tag from the Kingdom officials anyway since the nobles like to hunt them.”
“And Platypus Bear?” He asked.
She tilted her head at him and caught his growing smile though there was no way she got the reference.
“Are you saying you're completely unfamiliar with everything I've mentioned?” She asked.
He acquiesced and nodded sagely.
“Can you tame Bear Dogs? It sounds fluffy. I want one.”
She laughed at that.
“I've heard that people who work up to the beast master skill can tame creatures like them and enjoy those kinds of dangerous creatures as companions as much as any other exotic creature, but I've also heard it much better just to get a Mastiff or Great Hound in one of the cities instead of doing that.” She pulled her waterskin from her pack and swigged some water before turning her smile back on him. “Should I tell you about the creatures and monsters here?”
He nodded to her and asked; “First what exactly makes the difference between just a regular animal and monster?”
She looked at him with that same curious expression she had on before, but then shook her head and looked around at the trees surrounding the forest path of which they walked. She seemed to be putting effort into her thoughts for this, and might have been unsure of how exactly to answer. Maybe it was a little like asking what the color blue looked like to her.
“Your world...” She began. “You had...animals like what I named here?” She asked.
“Bears are furry, huge, good sprinters and climbers. I'm glad you have Mastiffs. At least that's a dog. I was getting worried when I saw there weren't any in that village. Elk are like deer or cows, four legged cloven hooves, except they are huge and have massive swoopy antlers. Mice are tiny minuscule rodents, and they like cheese and like to be out at night just like your Deer Mouse do though I suspect a size difference.” He answered her. “I mean you do have cows right? We had milk and I trusted you.”
Vivian had listened, but laughed at the last.
“Is that like a Bull Ram? That was what that milk was from, the females have huge utters and don't mind human contact. They are easy to herd with Hillsland Shepards to help, and as long as you move slow and get them used to milking they aren't too dangerous to have on a farm as long as there aren't many males around fighting for dominance.” She smiled at his helpless expression, but brightened her smile to add; “The leather goods we bought are likely from them. If we can find one out here and kill or trap it we'll have meat for days as well as a good hide to sell or trade for lodging in Mayonn if we can't get a room in the Adventurer's Guild Association Hall there.”
“You said this was saddle leather.'' he said, pulling at his belt. “That means you have saddles. For horses right?” He asked.
She looked at him puzzled. “Of course we have horses, riding goats, and Seguana.”
“What is the world is a Seguana some kind of lizard or something?”
She looked about to explain it to him then looked a little surprised and nodded. “Yes, it's a large lizard. They like to eat fruits and bugs and are normally found in warm swamp, jungles, and marshlands. You see them here sometimes during the summer because they don't overheat like horses will in our hottest weather and can swim with a rider on their backs as long as they are unarmored. They need heatstones in the winter however.”
“Hillsland Shepards are dogs right?”
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She looked at him oddly and shook her head a little. “They're Hillsland Shepards.”
“They're kind of like a mastiff right? Just furrier?”
She looked surprised at him again, but nodded. “I suppose you could say that. Mastiffs are larger and not so great with kids or living with family, but yes I do suppose they are alike. Are you able to crossbreed them in your world? Do you really call them dogs? Dogs are a type of monster.”
“First off I am offended you could even call a dog a monster.” He replied. “Second off I forgive you for that as long as you apologize to every good dog back in my world; which is all of them. Thirdly, yes we have all sorts of dog breeds and would not have likely succeeded in becoming hunter gatherers as well without them.”
“Hunter gatherers?”
“Ignore that, it's not an important detail and it would take too long to explain. What makes a dog a monster?”
She was giving him that look again. Like he had asked 'What does blue look like?'.
“I suppose...a monster is anything that's inherently hostile to humanoids because of the magic inside them? I guess I really never considered the difference in any sort of scholarly fashion. Maybe its just the magic? --yes that would make more sense. Maybe a monster is just an animal that has magical properties or abilities. Which is most of them. Very few monsters can be tamed properly without the beastmaster skill an adventurer can get, but sometimes there's things like Bull Ram's that don't mind so much.” She tilted her head back as she walked and looked up at the sky as she walked on with him. “We can try for that skill for you if you want, but I'm not sure if you have the charisma for it. I'm not sure what it takes or what rank of it you will be able to get it up to.”
He kept a watch on their surroundings as he walked, but was pretty drawn into their conversation. Her answer made sense and was sort of obvious in hindsight.
“I'm not sure about that, but maybe a familiar of some kind would be good either way. A summon or a tamed creature ads to our action economy even if its just a little bit.”
“Action economy?” She questioned.
“Oh that's nothing, just me rambling again-its hard to explain, I was just thinking it would be good to have another pair of hands or teeth involved if we plan on tangling with any sort of monster.” He covered quickly. He was not going to describe why he was thinking of action economy. This was not a D&D campaign. At least he hadn't stumbled into the path of the campaign he had been putting his friends through yet. The thought did run a worrisome chill down his spine however.
She nodded, but eyed him.
“What's more difficult taming a monster to serve me or binding some kind of magical familiar?” He could hear the babbling of good sized stream ahead and it drew his attention.
“They are essentially the same in essence, but I guess beast mastery would be an easier skill for now if that's the path you want to take. Learning magic and using your high spirit attribute as a Cleric or maybe even a Paladin would be a little more ideal, but I don't have any way to start you on that.” She answered him and then gave him a look that asked how he knew what a magical familiar was.
“But you could start me on Beast Mastery?” He asked, avoiding the unspoken question.
She nodded at him, but frowned a little. “It's hard to learn on the move, but it's gained by training something, an animal or lesser monster to do as you command usually. All skills work like that, going from something simple you start doing and gradually building in power as you practice them and your mark reinforces it. It's as simple as that for most skills. A horse would work to start training the basics of it.”
“So with skills there's also things like fishing, meat harvesting, skinning and the like then?” He asked as the sounds of the stream grew louder. He eyed her fishing pole and couldn't stop his grin.
“Of course!” Vivian said brightly. “I've gotten my fishing skill up from copper to iron this past year after a friend introduced me to these rods you found so interesting back in the room. Skinning and trapping are skills you earn too, and both are bronze already for me, but I've had a number of years to master them.”
Micheal nodded as the stream came into sight, and the two of them pulled away from the road and into a small camp site. There were old wagon marks on the ground nearby where people had pulled in and stayed, and a path leading straight to the creek beaten flat and hard with the passage of people going to the water.
He smiled at her. Pretty and she liked to fish. Who would have thought? He felt like he had hit the lottery in more than one way even if it had come at a hard price early on. Maybe he was still a little giddy with the whole break of his dry spell though. Vivian seemed to feel the same too however. She kept sharing little shameless glances with him as they walked that made them both laugh and smile. It only made everything better.
“Oh!” Vivian said as she dropped her pack next to a log and began to dig into it. She pulled out a leather wrapped knife with straps that would fit into the belt like his pouch and knife case. “Here you can have this. It's just a belt knife, but it's of High Elf of the Forest make. It was mine before I switched to using a friends.” She came to his side to pull the blade out from the sheath an inch of two to show him the blade. It was about as long as his outstretched hand otherwise, and clearly of very fine make. “My mother gave it to me when I was banished because of the mark.”
He looked at her and took in the knife at her belt strapped atop one of her short swords. The steel handle was worn and aged with an inset ivory oval in the middle of the grip. The ivory had just begun to fade, and the small ball of the pommel showed dully with the shine of often handled and oiled steel.
“Is your friend no longer with us?” He asked as he took her knife in hand.
She smiled up at him sadly and nodded.
“This knife reminds me of my mother, but if you keep it with you it will remind you of me.” She said before digging into one of his pouches for the snare set. “You'll need it to cut the switch we'll need for this to work. I'll show you where and how we can set them to catch some of those Horned Rabbits without getting stabbed by one.”
Indeed he followed his new friend, his lover even, into the woods and together they found proper green branches for the spring set of the trap. She showed him how to plant the snare just so, talking all the while and left it with the thing loaded to go off with near to the crack of a whip along a tiny path in the forest. Vivian sprinkled a few grains of oats around both of their snares and they both headed back to the stream. On their way back she began to explain about fishing, but stopped as Micheal turned over an old log to fish out a few worms beneath it.
She came to his side and watched as he carefully picked what looked to be little red worms from the soil.
“These aren't poisonous are they?” He asked carefully looking over some of the more colorful bugs and beetles.
She shook her head and helped retrieve a few more, and even took up some beetles to show him some that were good as bait as well or better than using worms. She had a beat up old tin that she put a little dirt inside of to store the bait. It even had holes in the top reminding him of old bait tins his grandfather used to use. She also made him another switch on the way back to make a small sort of cane pole before they got to the stream.
Once there they both got out what little line and tackle they had. Vivian flicked out her expanding iron rod and attached a small little one to one reel into an opening in the base that was secured with a hardy looking spring clamp built into the end of the rod. It would struggle with any of the pike he used to catch, but it would work for any of the little things in the three feet or less of water in the stream. She watched him as he wound the line around the small pole, and leaned in close to watch as he tied the fishing knot his grandfather had taught him. Twice in the eye, wrap six times, back through both loops and pull it by both ends until it was tight.
She looked at the resulting knot and nodded before drawing her line out of the closed metal spool though she kept her considering gaze on him the whole while. They went together up the bank of the stream until they found a spot that had a good slack water. She watched and nodded as he pointed it out and a log near the flow of which they could sit as they fished. She sat close to him, and the two of them drifted bait into the slack water from the faster flow. Without weights he thought the hooks might not sink very fast, but they did the job being a little heavier than what he was used to. It wasn't every cast, but they pulled in one fish after another until they each had three fish each. They were odd things that had the shape of trout, but the pattern of a perch.
They each produced their small wooden plates and Vivian explained the best ways she knew to fillet and scale the fish. They had few bones so that wasn't a worry, and the cutting was easier than he thought. He never really had kept very many fish in all his time fishing, but he had made an effort to learn rather recently or as recently as the time before he had died or whatever brought him here. Not long after that they had a fire going and were resting together after eating.
Vivian leaned against him with her eyes closed and her knees held up to her chest as she sat on the ground. He sat cross legged and was wiping off his plate with his hand and a little water from his water skin. Vivian had packed some of the fish away for later after cooking and had finished before him. He grabbed his pack after he wiped the plate down and packed it away again with his small metal fork and wooden spoon.
“You know how to fish.” Vivian said softly.
Micheal gave an affirmative grunt.
“That wasn't on your mark before.”
He gave a bit of a start and looked at the thing on his left hand. It did seem to have a little extra writing now, but he still couldn't read whatever runic language the thing was written in.
“I think it's there now.” He said, presenting her with his hand.
She read it and looked up at him after she did. “Copper fishing. White meat harvest.”
“Isn't that just like you said?” He asked.
She looked at him with her eyes set to an impenetrable gaze though she did look to be evaluating him again. It made him consider that she may have considered that he had lied to her. It was just fishing, but where one lie lay often there were others. He knew how that thinking could go.
“I used to fish with my dad and grandpa all the time. We'd go to Island Lake up past Duluth, Fountain Lake nearer to home, Leech Lake about halfway in between, and a few others. I used rods like the thing you have there. I could draw it out given a little time and show you what we used. Actually I think I could make a few hard baits that would work well on larger fish if I had some wood, wire, and maybe a workbench of some kind to use.” He explained suddenly thinking of bait makers videos he had been watching on the internet. That opened up a whole barrage of ideas in his mind. He could make sport fishing a thing in this world and use it to make money! Maybe...monsters were still a thing. Adventurers would certainly buy in though. People like Vivian who were self-sufficient would see the sporting means of hard baits!
She looked at him and then at his hand and the mark there. She seemed a little somber.
“You wouldn't lie to me would you?” She asked.
He set his pack down and turned to her frowning. So she did think had been lying.
“I would swear an oath or something if you required it, but I'm not a religious man so my word and reputation is what I live by. I promise you Vivian that I wouldn't lie to you or keep things from you when you ask. It's just hard to tell all of a person's life in a few days.”
She seemed to think about that for a little while, but nodded and turned her smile back on.
“Are you ready to continue then?” She asked.
He agreed and helped her to her feet. They packed up what little they had of camp and put out the fire and buried the wet ashes with the bones of the fish. They headed on together through the forest with an uncomfortable silence growing between them for a little while before Vivian spoke.
“Are there other skills you know from your other world?” She asked finally.
“I've tried the last few years to go hunting, but never ended up going. I can drive a lot of machines we have there, and operate a number of complex tools I don't think exist here. Now that I think about it I might be more educated than nearly everyone but scholars here. Our schooling and technology made that possible, but needless to say I know almost nothing of the people here or the way magic works in practice or if it will work for me.”
“It will.” She said immediately. “Your spirit attribute will manifest some sort of magic soon.” She paused probably thinking about what she just said and cocked her head to the other side. “Actually it's odd that you haven't yet. With a 'B' level you should have a number of spells at hand by now at least just to defend yourself after what you've been through, but I read nothing of it in your skills list.”
“Wouldn't they be in some sort of spell list?” He asked.
She shook her head. “Everything in the skills list uses magic and mana in one way or another. Spells as you called them are just skills with an active effect or chant. Whether it's a wizard's ritual fireball or a cleric's will cast through an implement of their faith, each are skills like any fighter's counter and special attacks and my own movement skills.”
“Wait everything? So I can catch fish with magic now?”
She gave a soft laugh. “No, but it should give you insight of where they are, a feel so to speak for the water and the creatures within it.” She touched his hand. “I've heard that silver and gold ranked adventurer's can use their advanced skill to catch heavier and longer fish, a fix to what is otherwise a toss of the dice when you cast your bait into the water. They will just be more likely to catch what they like or want to catch, but it's not foolproof. They couldn't say cast a bare hook into a puddle and pull out a fish unless there were fish to catch in that puddle.”
“So they can catch fish without bait?”
She just smiled at him as they made their way around the bend in the forest.
Later that day with the sun setting they were a little ways off the road in a clearing that for one reason or another had a few little shacks and a couple lean to's set up around an old stone well. In the encroaching forest around there were bare patches of flattened earth, scattered stones, and the occasional pile of them marked them out to have been houses. Some of the well walked paths had not quite given in to the forest yet, but the old ways through the village were slowly fading in the cover of the undergrowth. From what he could make out as he and Vivian gathered a little firewood it had been a good size village holding maybe a half dozen families before it had been abandoned.
It wasn't long before they had a fire going. Vivian had been startled to see how little he knew of making his own tinder when there was easy dry tinder around. He hadn't thought the tinder in the fire starting kit had only really been meant for a dry source in a rainy pinch. They set snares again, Vivian even had a small set of tiny steel bells that she tied to two of them in case the snares went off after they bedded down.
Vivian looked through a few of the shacks and found that most of them were flea infested hovels of one sort or another, or that they were marked out as animal den. In the end they made their way down the overgrown paths to a square opening in the bush that was far enough from the trees around to give a view of the night sky with cover from the wind. There must have been a dirt floored shack or something here before to smoothly pack the dirt like it was. They laid out where they would sleep and made their fire there. It was a good fifty yards from where the well and clearing were at, but Vivian told him it was best to camp away from the roads sometimes, especially when there was easy water like the stream they had stopped at before or the well here. A rest near the road was fine, but sleeping too near it was a good way to end up caught under a brigands knife.
Well before true dark they were all ready for camp for the night. They would be sleeping to either side of the fire, and while it did disappoint Micheal a little he understood the point. They did sit together for a time and used the small fire to warm up the fish Vivian had saved. She shared it with him, giving him two of the three filets left, with the disclaimer that she didn't sleep well with a full stomach.
Then it was on to practice. It didn't involve much. Just where to put his hands on the staff, and how to shift his feet and brace himself. How to block, and some of the basics on how the length of wood could be used to parry blades or any other weapon for that matter. The trick would be learning to deflect the blade's path and keep the weapon from striking directly. Even then his oak stave would turn away all but blades that had some magically powered cutting ability. The few forms Vivian was able to teach Micheal that night showed him just how practiced she was with that spear of hers. Vivian was light on her feet, and almost appeared to dance with the lunges and steps she showed him.
Once he had the basics down Vivian took up her own spear and practiced the motions alongside him. Step, step, strike, step back, thrust with both hands, side step, step back, step forward, thrust, on and on she called out while correcting him on his balance and posture. It went slow and she described just what he could do with each thrust, and how it was to his advantage to always keep the enemy just on the border of his reach and preferably out of his. For that she mostly focused on attacking since parries and blocks would be of little use against what they might face in the woods, and lamented the low light that made it too dangerous to spar even with slow strikes.
Soon enough true dark fell, and the only light came from the glowing embers of their small cook fire. Vivian built up the fire a little more with some of the dry wood in their rather sizable scavenged pile. With the little light from the fire they spared a little water to wash off some of the day's sweat with hand towels sitting near it, and together to do so. Vivian watched him all the while. Her eyes almost seemed to change and shift in the dark, and to glow with the light of the fire. She pulled out a stout little candle with a ventilated metal cover from her bag and lit the wick with the flames. It gave off a familiar smell.
“Is that a bug repellent?” He asked.
She looked at him in the low light and nodded. “Yes. You must recognize the smell then?”
He gave a soft laugh. “Yeah we had it back where I came from. Candles, spray cans, some body oil things too I think. I always ended up getting the spray stuff into my eyes or nose.”
“The wax in this one also has a bit of extra something that will keep all but the most determined monsters away. The only bad thing is that if a man smells it he'll know someone is here, and the light from it might lead him to our camp, but this area is mostly safe from that sort of banditry. Though we should keep an ear out in case some of the orcs or goblins managed to break away from that camp. It would be a little far to go, but stranger things have happened.” She paused and looked at him. He could almost see the green of her eyes as they showed in the dark, but mostly it just had the same effect as a cat's eyes shining as they caught the light of the fire. “Your people made a spray of this? Like something inside of a pump bottle?” She asked.
“Yeah it was useful for keeping the bugs off kids while out camping, or yourself I suppose. A tent would still be nice though.”
She blinked a few times as she listened which was only made obvious by the lack of being able to see anything of her but her outline and her eyes, but nodded.
“Tents are nice, but often too heavy to carry without a horse or another animal. You spoke of 'camping' in an odd way. It almost sounded as if it was something you went out of your way to do.”
Micheal laid back on the packed ground, it was hard, but even, and hardly the worst thing he'd slept on since coming here. Maybe a house had been here once, but there was no sign of it now.
He breathed in deeply. The smell of the loamy dirt, the trees, and the clean wind itself came to him as he did. His eyes looked up into the sky to see what he remembered seeing here. Had he not been in that orc camp the first time he saw it he would have gasped. Great purple nebula, red-orange rifts, seas of blue and black color dotted with stars. It was like every artist's night sky crashed together and came to life. Silver light cast from the planet's second tiny moon. Or was it the third? He remembered seeing at least three moons. Only one was as close or the size of the moon he knew back home.
“How many moons are there Vivian?” He asked instead of answering her question. He didn't mean to avoid it; he was just a little caught up in his own thoughts.
She stirred and moved closer. She laid on the dirt beside him, but used one of his raised arms as a rest for her head instead of her own hands like he had done. She looked up at the night sky with him as the sounds of the night took over the crackle of the fire. The wind died down to a quiet whisper through the trees and foliage about them, and there was not a single cloud to be seen above.
“Can you name any constellations for me?” He asked.
She stirred a little, maybe making herself a little more comfortable.
“There's five moons. If you've only counted three it's because the other two only share the skies with the others at night during the winters here. I know some of my people's constellations, but a proper astromancer could tell you more.” Her tone was soft and almost soothing, her eyes shining as she watched him. “Would you like me to point them out for you now?”
“Yeah, and what the names of the moons are.”
She stirred a little more beside him for a moment, then suddenly got to her feet and retrieved her bedroll. She laid it out beside him and brought him his own. There was a little moving around while they got things settled, but soon enough they were each using their rolled up cloaks for pillows and laying back again.
“The largest is Phasmora.” She said to him, curled up right against him as she laid on her side, her boots off and her stocking feet stuck inside the bed roll. “She's the first daughter of Oceanna, and has been tasked with control of the tides as well as her other duties.”
He tried not to give a start. Of course it would be her daughter, but the moon couldn't literally be the goddess, or demi-goddess, this Phasmora was. He wondered how the properly named goddess of water had betrayed or abused the children he had never named in his writings. Three were very important, but he had left vague openings for others. He wondered if he would run into a demi-god somewhere out in the world without knowing it. There were a few he had made that way in his writing and he would know it when he met them. He listened as Vivian began to explain what he expected.
“Many believe that the light of Phasmora turns red each year on the day she first turned against her mother and tried to drown the world in uncontrolled tides and ghosts...” She paused and he caught the flash of her glowing eyes in the night dark as she looked up at him. “That happens in the autumn, I believe when she is at her closest. The people along the coast call it a blood moon because the monsters of the sea often come to land driven mad by it. I'm not sure if anyone knows why.”
“Do these Astromancers worship her?” He asked.
She went still for a moment, but then answered. “If they do so I think they would not tell anyone they did. Phasmora is not part of the accepted Pantheon, or at the very least she is subservient to it.. To worship her directly would be heretical to those in the holy orders.”
“The 'Pantheon' sounds like a proper noun not just a word. Who's a part of it, and who's at their lead?” He asked hopefully sounding a little more clueless than guileless.
Vivian shifted again before she answered and actually put a hand onto his chest as she rolled onto her side to speak to him.
“Goddess's Oceanna, Olivarch, Windreah, and Ynneria. As well as the Gods Lyanodred, Alpharian, Omagos, and Dedicus. The eight of them form the Pantheon of Gods worshiped by the people of Ruldanja and many beyond. Even some of my fellow High Elves follow their beliefs since Olivarch, Windreah, and Lyanodred sometimes choose to appear as elves or other Fae Born.” She explained softly.
“Choose to? Their appearances aren't set?”
“No.” She said after another short pause. “They often come in pairs, but each time they live among us they appear different from the last, but not far enough different to be mistaken. They are very hard to mistake.” She said with the sounds of a nervous smile on her face. “You should recognize some of them at least. There were a number of followers among the Frantish people you were kept with.”
He gave a nod, and felt a bit foolish but she must have felt him move. Her hand managed to find him on his chest, and she slipped her fingers into his with gentle firmness.
“Sorry.” She said.
“What?” He asked.
“You get tense when I bring that up.”
It took him a minute to understand, but when he did it clicked into place with realization. His hand held tight to hers though he hadn't thought to really do so. His legs and back had gone tense as if he were keeping himself from bolting. There was even a part of himself in his own mind that now appeared like a knot of anxiety, anger, and helplessness. His heart rate was slowly climbing too.
He took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on where he was now instead of where he had been. The smell of the dying fire, the sharp scent of the bug and monster repellent candle, the fresh earth, and the faint smell of the soap Vivian used mixed in with the freshness of the air. There was something about it here. The air in the camp had been like living next to a rotting garbage heap or some kind of waste treatment plant, but here in the woods it felt clean and pure. There was peace to the land, a wild thing at rest, but still much better than he had felt around the camp.
He could just about make out the smile on Vivian's face in the dark as she asked; “I could sing to you if you want.” Her comments to him were often teasing like this during their walk today. It was always friendly, always half serious, half humor; more or less anyway. It always started with a poke or two, but turned to flirting more often than not. She seemed unused to it, or at least as if it had been a long time since.
“I'll listen if you sing in your elvish language.” He said back meaning it to be a tease in return, but perhaps he had missed the mark. Her reply was soft.
“I could, but you wouldn't understand.”
He gave a soft grunt. “Maybe its better that I don't. I often listed to music in other languages back home. Sing something for me, even if its just a lullaby or a child's song.”
She laid against him for a few moments then in the night. Their hands touched, and pressed together and came apart again. And then she began to sing softly.
It had a slow bittersweet sound. It was haunting and filled with a deep longing. He let the strange, elegant words of her elvish language wash over him in the night as he stared up at the sky above. The song rose and fell in a graceful melody that painted a featureless picture of pain and loneliness like living color in his mind and ears until the last few verses that brought to mind more featureless images of that pain brought to an end. Vivian took her hand away and wiped at her eyes when she was done.
He made sure to pull her close.
She made a soft pleased sound at his embrace, but drew away after a moment.
“A love song?”
She made a soft affirmative sound in her throat. “You could say that.”
“Can you translate the name of it for me?” He asked.
She smiled at him, her green eyes shining in the light of the little candle.
“I suppose you could call it 'The Man Who Sang to the Wind.'” She answered.
“You have a lovely voice. Thank you.” He leaned over to her and nuzzled her nose to nose.
It made her laugh, again quite softly, in the night. Her reply to that was to kiss him, and naturally he kissed her back. They drew together for a short time, hands interlaced and holding tight surrounded by the sounds of the night until she laid with her head on his arm facing one another and the fatigue of a day spent walking put them both to sleep.