They trudged into Daenan with growling stomachs and boots dragging. Sharing rations turned out to be a tighter strain than they thought. Foraging wasn’t enough, and they found themselves counting roots for each meal. Riley swore that they would have more meat once she learned to hunt, but everyone only half-listened to her through their hunger.
The small city of Daenan was the lip of the Aeldar Forest, wrapped with tall, spiky tree trunks forming an outer wall. Guards patrolled on catwalks built into the wall’s interior. Their armor was made of a mix of leather and steel, with animal furs wrapped around their helms. Two guards kept the city’s entrance and frowned at the starving crew as they stumbled into town.
Before them was a city densely populated with cabins, inns, and taverns, all constructed from the coniferous trees grown in the forest. The city felt cooler than the plains due to the thick forest surrounding it. And DJ drank in the smell of pine, amazed that anything could smell so naturally fresh.
Locals bustled around in every direction, carrying pails of water or logs for building or chickens for plucking. DJ saw a goose dangling from a butcher’s hand and started salivating. He swallowed and wiped spit from the corner of his lip.
“Pardon me,” Francis turned to a nearby guard. “We’re without money and food. Do you know of anyone in town who is hiring temporary work?”
“Erm—” a guard looked up at Francis nervously. “Sellsword? Ain’t heard of no bounties lately.”
“We’re not sellswords. Just travelers.”
“Oh. I heard Sandy Brambleton is looking for some folk to run an errand.”
Riley’s eyes went wide. “Sandy Brambleton? The Sandy Brambleton?”
“Who’s Sandy Brambleton?” DJ asked.
The guard pointed and Francis thanked him. Riley reared on DJ, her face riddled with incredulity. “Who is Sandy Brambleton? He’s only the best author in the entire territory! You’ve never heard of Stormhunter? Heart of the Emperor?”
DJ shrugged.
Riley turned to Francis. “Come on, Francis. You know books. You’ve heard of Sandy Brambleton, right?”
Francis nodded and rubbed his neck. “I’m familiar with his work. Read a couple of volumes. I admire his world building and I can’t deny his spirited fan base, but I find his prose a tad uninspired.”
Riley waved her hand. “Don’t listen to him. Sandy Brambleton is amazing. I’ll let you borrow my copy of Stormhunter when we get back to Beregond.”
Beregond. Just the mention of home made DJ sigh. And it formed a knot of anger in his chest. He could hear his peers now, trading jokes about his assault in the first week of his journey. Then he thought about how worried Sir Dashing would be—and how he would rush to rescue DJ like a distressed maiden if he found out. DJ clenched his teeth and kicked a dirt clod as he walked by.
It was in his resentment that DJ realized Steve had been surprisingly quiet since they arrived in town. He turned to see the friar absolutely enamored with his surroundings. Sniffing loudly, savoring the smells, turning all around as he walked. The turning made his pots and pans jingle.
DJ blinked at him. “Do you remember Daenan, Steve?”
“Hardly!” the friar yelped. “I had forgotten the forest! Isn’t it wonderful? Basking in the creations of our great Goddess? The territory that bears her name is beautiful and varied!”
Steve isn’t much better off than me, DJ thought. And he’s making the best of things. For some reason, the thought made him half-smile, and the anger in his chest loosened just a hair.
“You just wait, Steven,” Francis smirked. “Once we delve deeper into the forest, you’ll see wildlife, sparkling clear pools of water, trees as wide as a house. After we take Broken Lovers Pass through the Dhuvan Lōk Mountains, we’ll reach the city of Laradyl in the western region of the Cradle. Many elves live there, and they’ve made the city beautiful.”
“Do you know where we’re going?” Riley interjected, holding her complaining stomach.
Francis pointed. “The guard said to keep down the main road until we see a mansion on the left side. Said we wouldn’t miss it.”
And the guard was right. As they saw the eastern gate come into view, they noticed a mansion to the left overshadowing the other homes nearby. They followed the path to it. What they found was a lush estate surrounded by an iron fence. The mansion rose three stories tall, with vaulted roofs and a courtyard filled with trees and statues. Above the iron gate, a dragon’s head was molded from steel and mounted above an arch.
Riley’s eyes sparkled as she gawked at it. DJ smiled.
A gatekeeper stationed in a small booth rested with his head in his hand. With his other hand, he flipped the pages of a book. As the party approached, he looked up, then went back to his book.
“Do you have an appointment?” he asked lazily.
Francis nudged DJ to the front. At first he was annoyed, then DJ had to remind himself that this was his quest. He cleared his throat. “No, uh, but we heard Mister Brambleton has some potential work for trav—”
“If you want to be considered, you have to set an appointment,” the gatekeeper said, not looking up. He flipped another page and waved dismissively. “Plan better next time. Goodbye.”
The crew collectively deflated, then Riley, fueled by her empty stomach, marched toward the booth. She put her hands on its little window and stared daggers at the gatekeeper.
“Will you ride with me this night, Son of Light?” she said. “Will you stand with me on this path to ruin, to glory? Will your children and their children sing songs of this red day? This dark day? Stand with me! Raise your blade, Son of Light! Call to the Blackest Night and deny it your surrender! This day, we stand for the Emperor, and for all of Kels, and for all who Shine!”
The gatekeeper actually looked up. He studied Riley as if she were an interesting bug. He closed his book and folded his arms over the cover. His eyes narrowed and a fraction of a smile appeared. “That is the first time anyone has ever quoted Kanger’s War Cry at me.”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
DJ and Francis traded looks. Steve watched and picked his nose.
“Fine,” the gatekeeper said. “Because you amused me, I’ll show you in. But I can’t guarantee that he’ll be available. He has quite the schedule.”
“May the Emperor rain his blessings upon your house,” Riley put her fist to her chest and bowed.
The gatekeeper rolled his eyes and the gate squeaked open.
DJ caught up to Riley and nudged her. “Is that from a Sandy Brambleton book?”
“I told you, I love Sandy Brambleton.” Riley grinned.
“You’re a nerd.”
Riley punched him. DJ blushed.
They traveled through the lush courtyard—turning all about to examine the statues of people who had to be Sandy Brambleton characters. Then they arrived at the front door. The gatekeeper gave a special knock and the door opened. He motioned everyone to follow inside.
As soon as the party entered, their jaws fell. The interior of Sandy Brambleton’s mansion was a fortress of mahogany and leather. Custom swords hung on display. Oil paintings adorned the walls. Marble busts stood on pedestals. And among it all—books. Books everywhere. Most of them were on shelves, but some special copies remained displayed in glass cases. DJ recognized some of the titles that Riley mentioned earlier.
Riley couldn’t contain her excitement. Every corner and cranny seemed to hold some new treasure for her. But there was no time to ogle. The gatekeeper ushered them through the house, passing one luxurious room after another. Sounds of rustling paper and scratching grew with every step.
“Mister Brambleton,” the gatekeeper called. “Three travelers and one zealous fan are here to see you about the special job. Do you have a moment?”
A voice returned, “Great, yes, send them in!”
The gatekeeper motioned for them forward, then excused himself. The party traced the papery sounds until they found Sandy Brambleton in the flesh.
For someone who lived in such a mighty fortress, his demeanor was surprisingly approachable. He had a soft, boyish face adorned by circular spectacles, and a tweed jacket covered his wide shoulders. He stood at a table, his arm moving with the precision a swordsman. But his weapon of choice was a quill and ink. Two assistants rhythmically slid books to him, giving Sandy Brambleton just enough time to sign each one before they snapped it shut and gave him another. They moved with practiced rhythm, building on a stack that already had hundreds of books.
“Is that,” Riley’s face beamed, “the special leather-bound edition of Light of the Star Path?”
“Well spotted!” Sandy smiled as his arm kept moving. “I’m Sandy, by the way. Nice to meet you all.”
“Oh, I know who you are,” Riley stammered.
“I didn’t!” Friar Steve piped up. “Neither did DJ!”
DJ shushed him.
“It sounds like you’re all aware that I could use some help,” Sandy said as his arm continued to go. “And you look like a trustworthy bunch. There’s gold involved if you can complete it.”
“What’s the job, Mister Brambleton?” Francis said.
“It’s the local witch, Ursula,” Sandy said. “She put a curse on me months ago. Didn’t say what it was at first, but I’ve felt its effects since then. I’ve started writing big books. Really big books.” Sandy threw up his free hand in exasperation. “I can’t help myself from writing really big books now! My publisher is worried that they’re so big, no one will buy them. But I can’t write anything smaller! That’s where you come in. I just need you to go to Ursula’s house and convince her to break the curse.”
No fighting, DJ thought. Sounds like my kind of side quest.
“Where is this witch?” Francis asked. “Is she a peaceful one?”
“She lives less than half a day’s journey outside of town,” Sandy said. “As for peaceful, eh… depends on who you ask. I think she’s odd but I’ve never considered her dangerous. I did see her turn a child into a toad once, though. Don’t know if he ever got turned back.”
DJ gulped and his face turned cold.
“I’ll happily pay you five hundred gold,” Sandy said. “And I’ll give you some rations for the journey as well. I keep some of the best bread, cheese, and dried meat in the city. Isn’t that right, Damniel?”
One of Sandy’s assistants, a bored-looking man with a beard and wide-brimmed hat, nodded. “We should have plenty left, regardless of our supply that was recently pilfered.”
DJ was beginning to imagine himself as a toad, and suddenly his appetite and missing pack felt unimportant. Surely they could find some other work in town that would be less risky. But before he could say anything, Riley piped up with full enthusiasm. “We’ll do it!”
“Excellent!” Sandy replied. “Damniel, would you share some of those rations with our guests? Thank you. Once again, nice to meet you all! I look forward to being free of this curse.”
Damniel escorted the party out of the room. But before Riley left, she turned around, put her first to her heart, and bowed. “May the Emperor rain his blessings upon your house!”
Sandy’s eyes twinkled. “And may your path ever be bright.”
Riley squealed and scampered away.
Damniel loaded everyone with portions of bread, cheese, and dried meat. The party waited until they were off of Sandy Brambleton’s property before they tore into it. Sandy had excellent taste—the food was a Goddess-send compared to the roots and berries they had been eating recently. But they knew they had to make it last another day, so they didn’t gorge themselves. It was too late to visit Ursula the witch before dark, so they hiked a ways into the forest and set up camp for the night.
For once, DJ enjoyed staying awake to keep watch. The nighttime forest sounds were enchanting—unlike anything he had ever heard. Crickets chirping. Owls hooting. The rustle of trees shivering in the wind. The very air seemed to sparkle. He was almost disappointed when Riley awoke and took over.
That morning, the party broke camp before starting out for Ursula’s house. After just a couple of hours through the forest, they reached a trail off the main road marked by three large mushrooms. They were almost big enough to sit on.
“This is it,” Francis said. “Damniel said the witch’s home is nearly a quarter mile down this path.”
Sure enough, after that quarter mile, they found it. It wasn’t a normal house, though. It was a hut that had been carved from the interior of an astonishingly large tree. Its trunks and branches shot out in every direction to create a coniferous canopy. And on the side of the trunk, there was a door sandwiched between two circular windows. In front of the entrance, a doormat laid on the ground with the words BUZZ OFF printed on it.
Francis went up to knock, but stopped himself. He looked over his shoulder, addressing DJ, “This is your quest, young knight. I’ll knock if you command me, but only if it’s your command.”
DJ felt everyone’s eyes on him. Truthfully, he didn’t want to knock on that door. The witch on the other side could very possibly turn him into an amphibian. But everyone’s expectant eyes created a silent pressure on him, telling him to scrape up some courage, rise up to his knightly title, and knock.
The toad thing, though. That kept him hanging back.
“Go ahead, Francis,” DJ said.
Francis nodded and knocked. There was a muffled scampering from inside the tree, then a sliding peephole opened on the door. A pair of bulging eyes filled it.
“Wuddaya want?” a raspy voice said.