Riley’s observation was loud. “How can a place called Fairdell suck so much?”
“Tell me about it,” DJ grumbled. “Not very fair if you ask me.”
In the distance, the southern end of the Camās Gahl Mountains rose to the sky. But in the expanse before it, plains of dark brown dirt and yellow grass stretched for miles. Tree stumps were everywhere. Healthy patches of green were rare—a drastic departure from the lush forests and rich plains they had experienced before the Nether Regions.
Francis shook his head. “Come now, it’s not that bad. Fairdell has its own beauty.”
“Francis, you’re from the Nether Regions,” Riley said. “Everything is beautiful compared to there.”
DJ held his tongue and waited for Francis’s response. The orc chose not to be offended, but squinted and smirked at Riley.
“Give it a week or two,” he said. “I’ve heard the Camās Gahl Mountains are tremendous. And on our journey to the Spine, we’ll walk along their eastern edge.”
DJ said, “And that’s where we’ll find the Library of Artak.”
“That is correct,” Francis’s eyes flashed.
Steve pointed with his frying pan. “Behold! The Goddess has blessed us with water!”
As they crested a hill, a stagnant pond came to view just off the road. The sun would set in another hour, and this was one of the few bodies of water they had seen all day. The group agreed that this would be a decent place to set up camp.
Steve cleaned the pond water for consumption. He did it by sifting out the algae with a length of cloth and boiling the water before pouring it in everyone’s canteens. It wouldn’t taste great, but it would keep them hydrated and they wouldn’t get sick.
As night fell, DJ took the first watch, and the faint sounds of Fairdell grew. Some frogs croaked at the pond’s edge. Crickets sang as they hid in the prickly yellow grass. Cattails swayed by the water’s edge. But DJ missed being surrounded by the sounds of the forest—the hooting owls, cool breeze, and chirping birds. He silently resolved to visit Daenan and the Aeldar Forest often once they returned to Beregond. Maybe Ursula or Sandy Brambleton would welcome his company again. He could bring Riley along, too.
Riley.
DJ shot a look over to the campfire. She was still asleep in her bedroll. A knot of dread grew in his chest as he thought of the Highway Hag incident. In an effort to push it from his mind, he focused on the water and went back to practicing Ice Spike. He drew from the pond water and used nearby cattails as targets. He would cast the spell over and over until his head hurt, then take a break and keep trying. After an hour, dozens of cattails lay punctured by the water’s edge, and the tolerance in his head was building up.
DJ heard footsteps approach, but didn’t turn around. He recognized the footfalls.
“Hey,” Riley whispered. “It’s time for my watch, right?”
“Is it? Okay. But watch this first.” DJ made the proper motions. “Glaci-talum!”
A sharp finger of ice materialized from the water and shot toward a cattail. Direct hit. The punctured cattail drooped down to the ground.
Riley beamed. “Deej, that’s amazing!”
“It took a lot of practice,” DJ smiled. “But I can do it as long as there’s a little water nearby.”
Their eyes met, and one of those moments happened. Her face caught a lick of light from the campfire. Her eyes sparkled. DJ’s heart sighed. And he realized that now was as good a time as ever. He remembered Francis’s words: The mightiest battles are often fought within. He scraped up some courage and give himself a cleansing breath.
“Hey, Ri.”
Riley smiled inquisitively.
DJ cleared his throat. “We, uh, never talked about that thing with the Hag before the Nether Regions.”
Her smile faded and her shoulders tensed. “Oh. Yeah. That was weird.”
“Yeah it was.” DJ paused. “What… do you think?”
“About what?”
“About what the Highway Hag got out of me,” DJ said. “That I… kind of like you as more than just a friend.”
It was hard to tell if Riley was blushing between the moonlight and the campfire. She hugged her elbows and turned away. “I don’t know, DJ.”
“Okay. Well… what does ‘I don’t know’ mean? Is it like a maybe-I-don’t-know, an I’m-leaning-toward-no-I-don’t-know, or…?”
“It means I don’t know,” Riley said firmly. “We’re hundreds of miles away from home. There’s a gnome sworn to hunt me down. I’m not thinking about romance right now.”
DJ nodded tightly and said, “Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense.”
A hush fell. It made DJ uncomfortable. Feeling the need to speak, he said, “So… you just need time to think about it?”
“Yeah. But not now. After all of this is over.”
That’s a long time, DJ thought. “Okay,” he said. “It’s not gonna make the rest of this journey weird?”
Riley raised an eyebrow at him. “Only if you make it weird.”
“I’m not gonna make it weird!”
“You made it pretty weird before the Nether Regions. You didn’t talk to me for days.”
DJ blushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid I had ruined everything.”
Riley half-smiled and shook her head. “No, nothing is ruined.” A beat. “Are you… going to be okay if I just want to be friends?”
DJ’s heart fell and dread swelled in his chest again. He had never been rejected by a girl before—he had never been interested in any other girl. Being zero for one would hurt a lot. But it was Riley. Not having her around at all would be much worse than being rejected for something more. She was too important.
DJ nodded. “Yeah. I’d still want to be friends.”
“Good.”
Quiet settled between the two of them again, then Riley took a big breath to dispel it. “I should probably take my watch now. Cool magic, DJ. Good job.”
DJ forced a smile. “Thanks. G’nite, Ri.”
He marched to his bedroll and slipped inside. He felt a weight lifted from him, but waves of uncertainty still lapped his heart. She needs time to think about it? But she’s not even going to start thinking about it until we’re back home? That could be months!
In his heart, he hoped she wasn’t just trying to protect his feelings. But she promised she wouldn’t lie again, so there was that.
*
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
More dirt and yellow grass in the following days. And tree stumps. And rare patches of green grass. There were enough ponds to make drinkable water along the way, but it was a pain to strain algae and boil water over and over. Steve never complained, though. He whistled while he did it.
At last, they saw Blight’s Respite stretching across the Great River. It occupied the north and south banks of the Great River, and the massive bridge that joined both ends was wide and long enough to be populated with hundreds of buildings. DJ suddenly realized why they had walked by so much deforestation—the whole bridge was probably made from that timber.
The chilly river air grazed their skin as they hiked closer to the city. The walls around Blight’s Respite weren’t high—maybe twenty feet, constructed from timbers and stone. The guards keeping the entrance gave them curt nods.
In the city, they found muddy roads with rubbish strewn everywhere. Ragged, coughing townspeople with sallow faces glared at them. Animal droppings were left in the road. DJ grimaced. Compared to Blight’s Respite, cities like Beregond and Varis were the Seven Heavens.
“Is all of Fairdell going to be like this?” Riley muttered to Francis.
“It’s the reason your ancestors migrated west ages ago,” Francis said. “Humans who live in Fairdell treat it as a point of pride—like they’re the strong ones who chose to stay, despite the less-than-ideal conditions. That’s why the river between the Cradle and Fairdell is called Traitor’s Trench.”
“Hello!” Steve greeted a Blight’s Respite resident as they walked by. The resident gave Steve a foul look.
“Charming,” Riley murmured. “How are we doing on coin?”
“Low as usual,” DJ said. “The Apothescary nearly drained us back in Varis. That’s kind of the story of our journey, huh? Get broke, find a job, barely escape, earn some coin. Rinse and repeat.”
“Sounds like lazy writing,” Francis said.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“So we’ll need another side quest,” Riley sighed. “Hopefully there’s something here that doesn’t involve shoveling shit.”
“Language!” Steve yelped.
A familiar voice sounded to their right. “Hello friends! It has been far too long!”
The wizard waffle merchant. His bright garb and clean wooden stand stood out like a diamond in a manure pile. Knowing they were low on medicine, Riley and DJ hustled toward the stand.
“Welcome to the ill-tempered community of mud and depression known as Blight’s Respite!” The wizard waved his hands theatrically. “Better watch your step and keep your belongings close! A waffle or two wouldn’t hurt, either.” He winked.
“We’ll take two,” DJ said. “We didn’t even get to eat the last ones. They were destroyed by a violent noodle cult in the middle of the forest.”
“A shame!” The wizard served up two fully-loaded waffles with strawberries and cream. “Since you all have been such loyal customers, the third is free!” He pulled a third one from under the table, fully prepared like the other two.
“Thanks!” Riley said as she stuffed the waffles in her pack. “Any leads on some work around here? You always seem to have the answers.”
“Haha! I certainly do.” He made a show of tapping his chin and gazing all around, then he snapped his fingers. “I know! I happen to be well acquainted with Kathryn the Kind.”
“She sounds nice!” Steve yipped.
The wizard nodded. “She’s the governor of Blight’s Respite! A high-ranking official. She’s in a bit of a pickle, last I heard. There’s a festival fast approaching—The Kathryn the Kind Beat the Onyx Wing So Let's Celebrate and Get Drunk Festival. It commemorates the time that Kathryn the Kind beat the Onyx Wing, so everyone celebrates and gets drunk!”
Francis blinked. “Thank you for the clarification.”
Riley put her hands on her hips. “So what does she need for the Kathryn the Kind Beat the Onyx Wing So Let’s Celebrate and Get Drunk Festival? Does she need someone to make cotton candy or something?”
“Oh no!” the wizard said. “For the Kathryn the Kind Beat the Onyx Wing So Let’s Celebrate and Get Drunk Festival, she’ll likely need protection!”
DJ sighed. “Of course.”
Francis raised an eyebrow. “The festival is named after her and she needs protection for it? Sounds like she’s not terribly popular.”
The wizard laughed. “Quite the contrary. As you can imagine, it’s the Onyx Wing that wants to see her gone. She’ll explain it all at the governor’s manor! Tell her I sent you!”
“Alright then,” Francis said. “But… you never gave us your name.”
“Because it doesn’t matter.” The wizard grinned and shrugged.
Riley narrowed her eyes. “What’s your deal? You’re an actual wizard, right? Why do you show up in random places selling magic waffles?”
The wizard smiled. “I really must be going. Pleasure doing business with you! Ta-ta!”
The entire party gave him looks as if to say alright-then-keep-your-secrets, then they bid him farewell and walked northeast. After they ventured a little farther up the main concourse, DJ looked over his shoulder. Of course, by that time, the wizard and his stand were gone.
“The Onyx Wing,” Francis repeated as they trudged through the mud. “I’ve heard of them. Thieves. Murderers. Rumors came down to the Nether Regions when I was a boy, but I didn’t know if any of them are true.”
“If they are true,” Riley said, “maybe Kathryn the Kind is good news. Especially if people like the Onyx Wing don’t like her. She’s Kathryn the Kind after all.”
Eventually their boots made it to the vast wooden bridge of Blight’s Respite. The entire thing had to be half a mile wide and a mile long—a feat of engineering. DJ wondered if they had dwarven help or if the humans did it themselves.
The main road went straight through the bridge wide enough for six lanes of carriages. All of the other bridge space was packed with shops, inns, and homes. These buildings looked nicer than the ones than they saw on the southern edge of town. They weren’t Varis-esque by any means, but comfortable and charming. Maybe they would make enough coin to stay at one tonight—and maybe they would even have baths.
DJ spotted the city ravenpost tower, stretching up to the sky. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
After weaving through some disgruntled locals, he entered the tower and asked the druid if there was any mail for him. The druid grumbled, belched, then dumped a box of letters on the counter. DJ frowned as he watched the druid sort through them. The druid handed found three letters and handed them over. DJ broke the seal of the first one.
Ho there, son!
I must admit your last letter nearly brought a tear to this old man’s eye. I’m very proud to be your father. I’m sorry meeting your mother wasn’t pleasant But it sounds like you got the closure you need, so that is good.
Did you visit the Nether Regions on your way to Fairdell? Did you eat larkbeast? I prayed to the Goddess each night that you wouldn’t get eaten by anything.
Stay wary in Blight’s Respite! It’s a dreadful town! Avoid the Onyx Wing when possible and keep your sword close. Or do magic. Whichever is best for you now.
Be safe!
-Sir Dashing
The second letter said:
Ho there again, son!
Hope you’re doing well. It crossed my mind that I should have given you more advice in my last letter. Members of the Onyx Wing have black wing tattoos on their wrists or neck. Don’t engage with them if you can help it, and certainly don’t pick a fight with them. They run most of the city and they won’t hesitate to cut you down.
Stay vigilant!
-Sir Dashing
And the third:
Son,
You’re making me very concerned. Write back as quickly as possible.
-Dad
DJ smirked and paid the druid for a slice of parchment and a quill.
Hey dad,
I just arrived in Blight’s Respite. Yeah, this place sucks. But there might be an opportunity to help the city governor so I’ll let you know how that goes.
Larkbeast wasn’t bad. We had much better food in Varis, though. We met Francis’s old clan. It’s a lot to explain in a letter, I’ll tell you about it later.
Getting even better at magic. I hardly use my sword at all.
Hows the Harvest Festival stuff coming along? Have they started building that statue of you yet?
I’ll write you again when we reach the Library of Artak. Francis says there should be a village outside it with a ravenpost tower.
Love you, dad.
-DJ
DJ handed the letter to the druid and left. When he reached his friends, he said, “Even the ravenpost druid is grumpy here.”
“Seems to be the way with this town,” Francis said. “The good news is that the Library of Artak is less than a week’s journey from here.”
DJ smiled at him. “You’re so excited.”
“You haven’t the faintest idea.” Francis bore his tusks with glee.
“Hey,” Riley said to a stranger. “Which way is the governor’s manor?”
The haggard local rolled her eyes. “Follow the signs, stupid girl!”
Riley went pink with embarrassment as she noticed signs several feet away pointing the proper direction. Then she clamped her jaw. “Of course, how silly of me.” She gave a regal bow. “My sincerest apologies, your highness!” Then she made a rude gesture with her hand. “Dirty eastern half-wit.”
“Candy-ass trench hopper!” the local barked back.
Riley took a step forward, but DJ held her by the shoulders and wheeled her away before she could clap back. She scowled and said, “The sooner we leave this Goddess-forsaken dump, the better.”
Steve looked all around, then shook his head. “The Goddess does not smile upon Blight’s Respite!”