When Sollar woke up again, she found herself nestled in warm blankets. She blinked the grogginess out of her eyes and peered around at the unfamiliar wooden structure she was in.

It took her thirty seconds to figure out that she was on a boat.

The Demonfolk girl could feel the entire vessel rocking back and forth. There was the sound of the splashing of waves. Accompanying that was the cool, yet humid air, as if she was near a body of water.

“Hey! Finally awake, are you?”

Sollar immediately glanced around, to see where the voice was coming from. It was rather evident; there was only one person nearby that made herself apparent to Sollar’s presence.

The first person Sollar saw was another Demonfolk, an older lady. She had short, dull-red hair and heterochromia eyes, one the same dull-red as her hair and the other a pale off-gray color.

“You alright, girl? I saw you had Flared earlier. After landing on my barge from that bridge, too.”

Sollar blinked the sleepiness out of her eyes. She brought a hand up to wipe her eyes, but winced when the skin of her hand made contact with her face.

“Ah! Careful, the skin on your hands is still probably sore from Flaring.”

“Flared...?” Sollar asked.

“Y’know. Humans call it ‘going Manic’ but I don’t like that term. Sounds like we go insane or something along those lines.”

“Manic?”

The red headed Demonfolk woman shook her head. “Well, that’s... Nevermind. Are you doing fine? You were in a pretty rough spot earlier, I can assume?”

Sollar stared at the Demonfolk woman. “Who are you?”

“Oh! Forgot to introduce myself, sorry! I’m Rissle.”

Rissle extended her hand out to Sollar. “Nice to meet you! What’s your name?”

Sollar stared at the woman, taking the hand in a slow and steady handshake.

“My name’s Sollar,” the Demonfolk girl replied.

“Well, welcome aboard, Sollar. Odd circumstances to be boarding my barge, but I’ve seen weirder. What were you doing falling off that bridge, might I ask?”

“Bridge. I fell off a bridge?”

Rissle frowned. “Huh... sounds like you were in a pretty rough spot, then.”

“I wasn’t in a rough spot-place,” Sollar replied. “I was on a rail engine thing. And I was chased. There was this guy with a very big sword!”

Sollar raised her arms, in an attempt to somewhat act out what was happening.

“And then he tried to hit me! But I jumped away and got away, and then...”

She paused. Sollar placed a finger on her cheek as she tried to think.

“...I don’t know what happened next,” she admitted.

Rissle frowned, then held her hand up to pat the Demonfolk girl on the head.

“That’s ain’t a problem,” the woman reassured. “Answers one of my questions, actually... so they have a rail engine up there?”

Rissle looked out the window, glancing up as though the bridge would be right there. It wasn’t, as she had gone rather far down the canyon.

“I was wondering what that bridge was for,” she continued, looking back at Sollar. “But you’re completely fine, right? Not injured anywhere, I hope? Considering you Flared up...”

Sollar shook her head, yet again. “No hurting anywhere! Don’t worry!”

She then glanced back at Rissle. Her gaze gravitated towards the woman’s right eye, which was gray.

“Why’s your eye like that?” Sollar asked.

Rissle blinked. “Hm? My eye?”

“Yes. One eye is white, and the other is a regular color.”

“Oh, that,” Rissle said. “The War took my eye, you see? Had a pretty good gauge of distance and such, I used to use a bow.”

Sollar cocked her head.

“Who stole your eye?” the girl asked.

“No clue. Magic attack hit it. Was my good eye too, unfortunately.”

Rissle sat down and leaned back in her seat. “After that, I left the Demonfolk armies. Got my severance pay, right as the War ended. Lucky enough to leave just in time to not become an indentured servant, and used my money to buy a barge...”

The older woman glanced back at Sollar. “Sorry, this is all probably going over your head, ain’t it?”

Sollar shook her head. “No, it’s not! It’s going to my head, it’s going right at me! But what is ‘sev-rance pay’ and ‘in-dentured ser-vant’?”

Rissle chuckled. “You like asking questions, hm? Girl, we’ll be here for awhile if you want me to answer everything, but it’s not like there’s anything much to do.”

The woman placed her hands behind her head, resting them. “Severance pay is when you leave a job and they pay you whatever they owe you... plus some more. Amount they pay you depends. I was rather skilled with my bow, and since I had a lot of expensive equipment that I had to leave behind, they compensated me for that.”

Rissle was looking up at the sky. “I wonder how they’re doing now...”

Sollar watched the Demonfolk woman in anticipation.

“What about ‘indentured servant’?” she asked. “Do you know?”

“Oh, right,” Rissle replied, after the reminder. “I know what they are. Most Demonfolk who fought had to pay back in labor. It’s like...”

She was trying to figure out a way to best explain it to Sollar.

“So, imagine you damage something,” she continued. “You have to pay them back when you damage it. Right?”

Sollar nodded. That made sense. Thinking back, she realized that the Human probably was going to need to pay back the damage to the rail engine that he had destroyed when chasing her.

“Well, imagine you cause so much damage that you don’t have enough money,” Rissle continued. “What do you think happens?”

Sollar scrunched her eyebrows and looked up. What would happen?

“You... need to make more money?” she asked. “And pay it back with that. Right?”

Rissle gave a thumbs up. “You’re close, really close. But the middleman is cut out. You have to work directly for the person that you owe money to for a certain amount of time.”

Sollar nodded, but she still had a question. “What’s a ‘middleman’?”

The woman rubbed her forehead. This was going to be a little harder for her to explain.

“A middleman is... well, the person in the middle,” Rissle started. “The money goes from one person, to you, to the person you owe money to. What if the money went from the one person to the person you owe money to while you worked? Makes things a lot simpler, right?”

“So the money goes to the person you owe?” Sollar asked.

Rissle nodded. “Yep. You’ve got that right.”

The Demonfolk girl leaned left and right as she sat.

“I still don’t get it,” she admitted.

Rissle scratched the back of her head. “Ah... well, it ain’t an easy concept to understand. And since you’re not an indentured servant, I’m guessing it’s not something you should concern yourself with. Are you?”

“Nope!” the Demonfolk girl exclaimed. “I was a... uh, it was a..?”

She placed a finger on her chin, trying to figure out the word she was looking for.

“A ladle? No, a lab... lab-something, laber. I think. I’m not sure.”

Sollar shrugged.

Rissle had an idea what she was trying to say.

“A laborer?”

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Sollar’s face lit up in a smile. “Yes, that thing! The labor-er! I was one.”

“Really, ya were? Seems like that job might be hard, wasn’t it?”

“No, it was easy!” the girl replied. “Even though Forr-ar and the others felt tired, I didn’t.”

Rissle blinked. “You have a lotta energy, then.”

The woman then stepped back out of the little cabin. “Anyway, I’m starving. You hungry, too? I’ve got some broth.”

Sollar hadn’t had much to eat since that morning. She nodded her head happily. “Yes, please!”

Rissle smiled. “Alright, sure. Follow me, I’ve got a lil’ kitchen set up on the deck.”

The Demonfolk girl got to her feet. Her legs were a little shaky, and Rissle helped steady her as she took a few steps forward.

“Thank you, Riss-ar,” Sollar said.

The woman smiled. “Rissar? We on nickname terms now, gal? Well, I ain’t complaining.”

It took a few more steps for Sollar to regain her balance. Soon, the two had stepped out of the cabin of the barge onto the large deck. The middle of the barge had a depression in it that was supposedly filled with grain and completely covered up by a tarp.

Rissle stepped over to a small set-up she had next to the cabin of the barge. A tarp hung off from the sides and was being held up by a few wooden poles on the end, allowing it to shade a small makeshift kitchen. A gas-lit lantern without the surrounding glass sat beneath a small pot of simmering soup.

Sollar cocked her head upon seeing that.

“Why do you use a lamp to make food warm?” she asked, pointing to it.

“Because I can’t really set a big fire up on this boat,” Rissle replied. “Otherwise, it might catch the whole boat on fire. Lamp? Easy to extinguish, gives just enough heat.”

Looking into the small pot, the woman continued speaking.

“I’ve used up most of my portable soup rations, so the soup might be a tad watery since I gotta portion it for both of us,” Rissle admitted. “That fine with you?”

Sollar nodded, because she wasn’t one to really turn down food when she was hungry. Then, thinking for a moment, the Demonfolk girl remembered something.

“I have my own food!” Sollar exclaimed.

Grabbing at her small bag, the girl rustled through the assortment of items in there until she grabbed hold of a package made of butcher’s paper.

“This!” she exclaimed, pulling it out.

Rissle raised an eyebrow at the item that the girl procured.

“Hm? What you’ve got in there?” she asked.

“Dried beef jerky!” Sollar exclaimed. “Since it’s dry and you say the soup is too much water, we can put the dry in there and it’ll become dry again! Right?”

Rissle went from contemplating, to confused. Then, her eyes twinkled in amusement.

“Haha, oh boy!” she exclaimed. “That’s... not how it’ll work, but you’ve got an idea there for sure!”

Sollar, on the other hand, hesitated. “Is that wrong?”

“A lil’ bit of both,” Rissle said, through chuckles. “Dried beef is dry, sure. But it ain’t gonna just soak up all the moisture like that. Although...”

The woman tapped her chin.

“You want to put the jerky in the soup, right?” she continued.

“Yes!”

“Here’s my idea,” the older Demonfolk proposed. “Rip it up to shreds, it’ll give the stew a bit more body.”

Sollar nodded, and immediately got to tearing up the beef jerky into shreds. Stepping up to the pot of simmering soup, she dropped the shredded up bits as Rissle continued stirring the pot.

“Oh, and I also have bread too!” Sollar exclaimed. “We can eat the soup with that.”

“No worries, I’ve got my own,” the woman reassured. “Hmm... think it’s ready. Actually...”

Rissle glanced over to her utensils. She only had one bowl.

“You can have the bowl,” the woman said. “I’ll just be eating out of the pot.”

Using a ladle, the Demonfolk woman scooped a little less than half of the soup into the bowl, then handed it to Sollar. She also handed a fork to the Demonfolk girl, too.

“Tell me what you think,” the woman said.

Sollar took a sip, then her eyes glimmered. The broth by itself was good, but the addition of the strips of dried jerky only added more rich flavors to it.

“It’s good!” she replied.

“Does it? Well, seems like it ain’t a bad idea! Here, lemme grab some bread we can dip into the soup.”

The woman grabbed a package wrapped in wax paper, one that was stored in a drawer within one of the tables. Unwrapping it, the woman grabbed at the top loaf, which was particularly large and wide, and wrapped the rest of the bread to store again.

Rissle then tore the loaf in half, and handed one half to Sollar.

“Here ya go. A bit stale, I bought it a day ago when I was resupplyin’ up the river. But it should do.”

Sollar nodded, giving her thanks to the woman. She watched as Rissle immediately got to eating, dipping the bread in the stew to soak it in the broth, before tossing that piece in her mouth and chewing.

The girl immediately mimicked those actions, and after dunking her bread, she chewed on the particularly delicious result of the softened and moistened bread.

The two ate together, and when Rissle began using her own fork to spear the strips of sliced dried beef that had been simmering within the stew, Sollar did the same.

Both of them watched as the canyon the river flowed through gradually sloped down to even more flat land. In the distance, they could see that the river was gradually snaking to the base of a large hill that overlooked the surroundings.

“So,” Rissle asked. “Where were you plannin’ on going? Considering you fell off a rail engine ‘n all.”

Sollar paused her eating and began to think.

“Hmmm... Forrar said that we were going to a place called... New Frontland. I think.”

Rissle raised an eyebrow. “You mean New Frontierland, the port city?”

Sollar immediately nodded. “Yes, New Frontier-land!”

“I see. Any reason you goin’ there? Work, travel... vacation of sorts?”

Sollar shook her head. “I’m there to find my brother! He’s in a place called the Capit-al, which is where I need to go?”

The woman grunted, then took another bite of stew. “Ah. I know the Capital. That’s where the Demonfolk armies were sent to work after the war. You say he’s there?”

Sollar nodded. “Yes, and I need to go there!”

“Well... Look there for me for a moment, will you?” Rissle asked, pointing out at the scenery.

Both of them gazed out at the hill.

“That hill right there,” the Demonfolk veteran said. “Right on the other side is New Frontierland. We’re heading right to the base of the hill, but you can’t go around it. You gotta go up it.”

“I can’t go around? Why?”

“No trails that go around, and the woods are dense. You’d get lost trying to go through. And anyway...”

Rissle placed her stew on the table and pointed right at the peak.

“The very top of the hill is Fort Logger. T’was an old lookout post during the war, now they chop lumber. The walk up is gonna take awhile, so you can stay there for the night till you can come back down.”

“And then I go to New Frontier-land?”

“Yep. Right on the other side of the hill, not too far. I know some folk in Fort Logger, they’re good people. They’ll take care of ya.”

Rissle picked her soup up again and continued eating.

“Is Fort Logger like a city?” Sollar asked.

“A city? It’s... a fort, it’s in the name. More the size of a small town. But the place there’s fortified, even after the garrison left. Last I’ve been there they’ve still got the wood spike walls up... ain’t removing ‘em anytime soon, I bet.”

Sollar didn’t understand half of what Rissle was referring to, but she nodded. She glanced over to see that Rissle had a sly, nostalgic grin.

“...Humans was always good at finding the best strategic locations. Fort Logger saved ‘em the war... couldn’t get within forty leagues of New Frontierland with any sizable army before they’d spot you from ‘ere.”

“Did you get close to it?” Sollar asked. “During the war thing.”

“Before the surrender? Only once,” Rissle replied. “Then we had to retreat. Find it funny now, I can get as close as I wanna get up there now.”

The woman then downed the rest of her soup and stuffed the last bit of bread in her mouth. Through a muffled mouth, she said, “Tough opponent they were. I ain’t the one to say our defeat was inevitable, but there were things we coulda done differently.”

Rissle then stretched her arms out. She glanced over at Sollar, who was still staring over at the large hill. They were now almost at the base of it; to look up at it would require one to crane their necks a little.

“We’re near,” Rissle said. She stepped over to an area behind the bridge, where the barge’s wooden steering wheel was located.

“What are you doing?” Sollar asked.

“Steering the barge. Gonna be nearing the dock soon.”

The barge continued drifting down the river as Rissle grabbed ahold of the wheel. She gave a few short, subtle steers, to allow the boat to drift towards a wooden dock that was just around a bend in the river.

“Keep clear, I’m steerin’ the barge toward the dock,” Rissle stated.

After turning the wheel and eyeing the movement of the barge, Rissle grabbed at a length of rope that was tied to the barge. She stepped over to the side, closest to the docks, and then tossed a loop of the rope.

The rope slid onto one of the wooden bollard posts on the pier. She immediately pulled it, tightening the loop of rope, before grabbing another rope to do the same thing. As she did so, Sollar could feel the entire barge itself gradually slowing down as the rope strained under the tension.

Another mooring rope later, and the barge had come to a complete stop.

After tying off the last rope, Rissle stood up and wiped her hands off.

“Alright! Now we’re anchored. Safe to step off!”

Sollar blinked. She took a last sip of her soup, and placed the empty bowl on the table.

“Why did we stop?” she asked.

“I’m stoppin’ here to drop off some supplies,” Rissle said. “You said you wanted to go to New Frontierland?”

“Yes,” Sollar said. “Forrar said I needed to go that way to see brother!”

“Well,” Rissle replied, scratching the back of her head. “I can’t accompany you the whole way. You’ll be needing to head off by yourself.”

The woman then pointed off at a particularly well-worn dirt trail that headed up the mountain.

“That way will get you to Fort Logger. But...”

Rissle glanced up at the sky. Dark storm clouds were beginning to form on the horizon.

“Rain’s coming,” she said. “You sure you want to go up that hill?”

Sollar nodded vigorously. “You said to go to New Fronter-Land that way, right?”

The Demonfolk girl pointed in the exact same direction that Rissle had pointed earlier.

“Yeah, it’s the way to New Frontierland. The trail goes directly to Fort Logger, and New Frontierland is downhill from there. But... I don’t recommend it right now.”

Rissle then looked up at the sky. “Weather’s gonna be harsh for sure.”

“I can do it!” Sollar exclaimed. “I’m strong! Forr-ar said so!”

Rissle closed her eyes, then opened them with a smile. “Guess I can’t convince you. But before you go, let me give you something...”

Rissle stepped to look in the cabin of her barge, rustling through several things. She then grabbed something and stepped back.

“Here.”

Rissle handed to Sollar a cloak made out of thick burlap.

“It’s cheap, I can just get another one. Should keep you dry in light rain. But try to get up to Fort Logger as quickly as you can.”

“Okay! Thank you!”

Sollar took the cloak and turned around. She immediately took a few long strides over the wooden surface of the loading port, her foot making thumps on the sun-worn planks below.

“Oh, and Sollar!”

The Demonfolk girl stopped and looked back. She cocked her head at Rissle.

“Don’t forget to tell the guys up there that ‘Rissle’ sent you! I’ve got friends up there, they can protect you!”

Sollar nodded. “Okay! I will tell them, Riss-ar!”

She turned back around and set down the trail to Fort Logger. Rissle watched as Sollar’s form grew distant, before her silhouette vanished around a grove of trees.

“...Why would someone be after her?” Rissle muttered. “She’s dumb, but she’s damn loveable. Gah, my worry’s gonna keep me awake at night, even though she seems like a strong gal.”