5
Homebound
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James was back in the black waters of the lake that had transported him to Valenfrost. The water at his waist slowly rose around the young man, reaching up to his waist in little time. In the distance, James could spot the runic slab responsible for his departure from Earth, the damned thing beckoning him to its glowing runes. Upon closer inspection, however, James realized something. This wasn’t the same slab. It was different.
It now sat on the distant shoreline instead of in the middle of the lake, its material weathered stone instead of stained wood. Eldritch green runes were now burnt into its gray surface, the stone showing clear signs of age as moss hung around its edges. Before James could question it, a white raven flew down from the night sky before it perched on the slab.
“I’m back here again… Why?” James asked, his eyes searching around the lake.
“James Holter,” the raven suddenly spoke out, its voice a mixture between a man’s and a woman’s voice.
“What is this?” James muttered. He furrowed his brow as he stared at the albino bird.
“Watch over you, we do. Warning, we bring,” the raven called right before others of its kin joined it, the rest of them black-feathered. The white raven jerked its head to the side, its blue eye staring at James curiously.
“Delphine’s light is tainted upon those that hold the symbol of the seven-pointed sun. Do not trust them. Do not let them kill you,” the raven croaked before the rest of the ravens cawed. James watched as they all flew off, all but the white raven.
“What do I do?” James asked, confusion settling in his thoughts. The black waters rose to his shoulders, fully ready to submerge the young man beneath the lake. The blue-eyed raven cocked its head back to James before it croaked out one last time.
“Do as you must, but know this, James Holter. Your choices today will define you for who you truly are.” The raven opened its white feathered wings, taking off from the stone slab. James stared at the fleeing bird, his hands outstretched as the black waters of the lake that had once sent him to his death consumed him.
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James groaned awake, his dream still fresh in his mind. At least until pain flared in his side once more. The young man winced as he quickly sat up, his hand moving to his bandaged abdomen. Despite Bjorn pouring some of his advanced healing potion onto the open wound the night they fled, his wound still sent shocks of pain. The concoction of alcohol and potion had burned like hell, but it did the job well. James rubbed his bandages gently, remembering how he had slowly watched the bleeding wound healing on its own. The way his body had visibly repaired itself was a sight he could never get out of his head. Even when the potion had stopped the bleeding and repaired most of the damage, Dahlia still had to stitch the wound together.
“Dahlia,” James muttered, his head raising to see if he could find the shaman anywhere nearby.
The inside of Frostbite was still relatively dark. That was because most of the windows and sources of light were covered up to ensure the injured slept and rested. James looked over at Seamus’ sleeping figure, who snored lightly in his cot. He turned his sights to the gnome Seamus and Miles had saved during their time on the island. The elderly man, named Lowe, slept soundly in his isolated corner, his hands clutching onto what looked to be a cat statue.
‘Remind me to ask Seamus about his… guests,’ James mentally commented to Faust. He had a lot to catch up on with the younger man.
As James stood up from his sleeping area, his eyes passed over the other side of the ship, where the strange woman slept. She had her back turned to the rest of the deck as she slept; her bandaged wounds were visible from a distance. James wasn’t sure if she was asleep but didn’t want to lose a hand trying to check.
The young man slowly approached the upper deck, climbing to the surface. James squinted as he stepped onto the main deck, the cloudy day still harsh to his sensitive eyes. He blinked briefly before focusing on the first person he saw.
“He lives!” a boisterous voice sounded out, the owner of it moving to greet James.
“Hey, Dimitri,” James greeted back, smiling a bit as he shook the shipmaster’s hand.
“Glad to see you recovering well, my friend! I knew those filthy orcs couldn’t kill you!”
“Hey!” another voice called out in protest, catching both men’s attention. James turned to see Silas on the deck of Frostbite, along with some of James’ crew.
“How did you…?” James started before feeling someone’s hand pat his shoulder.
“Haggard told us about the ship the night we left,” Dahlia’s voice sounded out, the shaman walking into sight. “Well, after Dimitri here tried to ram into it.”
“Lucky you guys missed,” Edmund’s voice spoke up, the young mercenary resting nearby. “If it wasn’t for Archibald and me signaling to Frostbite that we were friendly… well, it wouldn’t have turned out so well for us.”
“So James. An entire ship full of orcs and freed prisoners,” Miles muttered, the masked man sitting on the deck, his hands cleaning up the sword he kept. James looked at everyone, noting their mixed emotions and clear apprehensiveness at the orcs on board.
“What do you plan to do next?” The masked mercenary asked, looking up at James with what the young man could assume was an expectant look. He noted how the rest of the mercenaries looked at him, including Bjorn and Archibald, who were resting next to some barrels. James looked at Silas, who was also looking at him with an expectant gaze. James sighed, rubbing his eyes as he turned to Dahlia. She had her arms crossed, looking at James as she waited for him to say something.
‘Guess there’s only one thing left to do…’
“Nothing. There’s nothing left,” James spoke out, the tiredness in his voice apparent. “Thank you all for sticking with me this long, but the job’s done. Dahlia will pay you.” The young man felt exhausted, spent, and burnt out. The mercenaries looked surprised, their heads perking up at James’ words.
“That’s it…?” Edmund asked, blinking.
“I thought there would be more,” Bjorn commented.
“I guess that’s a job done,” Archibald muttered. Miles was silent, however, his hood hiding his masked face as he looked down at his sword.
“As for you,” James started, looking at the orc. “Thank you for the help, but there’s one last thing I need from you.” The young man stepped up to Silas, his eyes noticing the deck bridge leading to the longship they had stolen. He could see the freed prisoners on the deck, all sleeping or talking amongst each other.
“Do you think you can take them to a nearby settlement?” James asked before an idea formed in his head. “Actually, do you think you can take the mercenaries to Vindis? Or wherever they want to get dropped.” James looked at Bjorn, who still seemed in bad shape. He knew the dwarf would get better care from a healer at Vindis than Yorktown. “These guys, I mean.” James gestured towards the four hired men.
Silas pondered at James’ request before nodding. “I will take them back to the city as long as someone can guide the ship there.”
“I can do it.” Archibald raised a hand, groaning as he stood up. “I used to navigate ships for my house years ago. I can guide us to Vindis, no problem.”
“I’ll be coming as well,” Haggard called out, the man walking up the deck bridge.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“Really, Haggard? Not going to stick around with us?” James asked.
“I’m a drifter, my friend. I go wherever fate wishes me to go,” Haggard grinned, patting James’ back. “Besides, I was already going to leave after this quest of yours was done,” he admitted before moving to the deck bridge leading to the longship below. James turned to see Dahlia handing the gold payments to the mercenaries. Bjorn and Edmund gave their thanks as Archibald examined the coins. Miles was silent, however, the man ignoring the gold pieces as if they weren’t there.
Edmund was the first to head to the deck bridge, his hands placing the coins into his satchel.
“This… This has been an experience. I hope life treats you well, friend,” he said. Edmund gave a small smile, which faltered a bit as he brushed his brown hair back. “I also wanted to say thank you. For saving me back there,” he muttered before heading down the deck bridge.
Archibald was next, his hands fidgeting with his rapier’s sheath.
“These last couple of days have been nothing but a hellish experience. Filled with nothing but violence, disgust, and death. Still, I will admit, it was quite some experience. Farewell, James.” The elf sighed tiredly, moving to the longship like the previous mercenary.
Finally, Bjorn stepped up, the hurting man clutching at his chest.
“Thanks for the opportunity to fight some mean bastards. Hate to say this, especially with the shite pay, but it was a pleasure fighting with you.” The dwarf grinned at James before heading after Archibald. James watched them all go before noticing Brant and Finn making their way to the deck bridge. James had forgotten about the two men Gryff had sent to help. He recalled when Brant took a full-on strike from the abomination back on the other island.
“You two are going with them?” James asked, confused about why the two men were heading to the deck bridge.
“We’re going to Vindis to get Brant a proper healer. No offense to the shaman, of course, but his arm needs professional help if he wants to use it again,” Finn explained.
“None taken,” Dahlia called out as she watched from a distance.
“I see…” James rubbed at his chin, his head nodding slowly at Finn’s words. “Will you guys be able to return to your crew with Gryff?”
“Won’t need to. We can return to our home in the south of Valenfrost. We’ll be fine,” Finn assured James.
“Alright, I’ll be sure to tell Gryff what happened.”
“Good, we’ll be on our way, then. Safe travels, my friend,” Finn said with a small wave. James watched as the two men gave their last nods before they moved to cross the deck bridge.
James turned to Miles, who was still sitting cross-legged as he cleaned something in his hands. James squinted, realizing that the mercenary was cleaning his grinning mask, which he had never taken off. Still, the hood obscured his face, leaving the ex-follower in mystery.
“Miles, you’re not going with them? They’re going to be headed to Vindis.”
“I’ll stick with you for now. You don’t have to pay me extra,” Miles spoke, his voice clear now that the wooden mask he held did not muffle it. The mercenary held up the now clean mask, which still had traces of soot and blood and some visible cracks in the corner. “I just want to see how it ends,” he murmured before he placed the mask over his obscured face, adjusting it as he strapped it around his head. James stared at the mercenary for a solid few seconds before turning to Silas, who was giving Miles a strange look.
“I guess that’s everyone, correct?” The orc asked, turning back to James.
“I guess… What do you plan to do after?”
“Not entirely sure. Establishing networks in Valenfrost will be an arduous task, that is unless we work for someone else.” Silas looked down at James with a sort of expectant look.
James sighed. “I’m not that kind of person. I’m not even sure if I can really lead.”
“Really? Back at the island, you seemed to lead those prisoners pretty well, and your tactics with the gnomes were admirable,” Silas commended.
“That’s… debatable. Still, even if I wanted to lead you and your friends, I doubt the people back at Yorktown would accept orcs living there. Hell, they can barely accept me,” James explained.
Silas seemed to be disappointed for a second, but he seemed to hide it as he let out a breath. “Fair enough. My companions and I will do with what we have.” The orc nodded at James. “Farewell, James. Have a safe trip back home. I hope we meet again under better conditions.” Silas flashed James a grin as he headed back to the longship.
James watched as the orcs’ crew moved around the deck to prepare their ship for sail. The deck bridge between the two vessels soon pulled back onto the other.
“Hey, Silas!” James called out to the orc. “What do you plan on naming it?”
Silas perked up at the question, his hand brushing through his coarse hair.
“Ah! I got an idea that you might like. Call it something inspired from the night we were liberated.” Silas gestured towards the longship, his voice boisterous. “How does Draugr’s Haunt sound?” The orc asked before the other orcs cheered in agreement. James blinked, unaware that Silas knew about the draugr incident.
‘Or maybe, is it a coincidence? No. That orc, Fero, saw it. Shit.’
James watched as the orcs pulled at ropes and sails, the longship soon gaining movement. The people on board, including Haggard and the other mercenaries, waved goodbye to Frostbite. James raised his hand, waving back at the crew as they slowly sailed off.
“So… Draugr’s Haunt, huh?” Dahlia’s voice suddenly spoke up from behind, making James jump in surprise.
“It’s a long story,” James embarrassingly admitted.
“No need to tell me the details.” Dahlia waved off. “Haggard and Bjorn already told me yesterday.”
“What?”
“Eyes like fire, they said. Looked just like a Draugr. It’s a miracle they kept themselves from telling the entire crew,” Dahlia muttered. “What they didn’t tell me, however, is whatever happened on the island. How and why you were covered in blood? How you got stabbed…” She frowned a bit, her eyes moving to James’ bandages.
“It’s feeling fine,” James assured her.
“That’s not what I’m worried about. What the hell happened back there?” Dahlia pressed further.
Unsure of what to say to the shaman, James took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes before he glanced at Dimitri, who quickly looked away as he headed to command his crew.
“Sails down! Let’s get moving!”
Defeated, James gave a dejected sigh, looking back at Dahlia.
“Let’s go sit down first. This is a long story.”
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Gryff sighed softly as he stepped out of the cave’s entrance. The sun had already risen from the horizon.
“How long have I been in there?” he muttered, his hands reaching into his satchel. The knight brought out a small copper flask, unscrewing it before taking a swig from the container. The bitter taste of the cold liquid washed over his tongue, yet no reaction of disgust came from the man. He had long ago gotten so used to the stuff that it barely affected him, in both taste and use. The purpose of the drink, which was a sort of tea from Areno, was to wake up whoever consumed it.
It was made with bitter-tasting beans from the distant continent yet had a fragrance that tantalized even Gryff. Still, the strange tea tended to slowly lose its potency the more Gryff drank it, which left him seeking even stronger blends from Arenian traders.
“Still drinking that crap, huh?” Hugo asked. The behemoth of a man was walking up the path that led to the mountainside cave.
“It’s the only thing keeping me awake,” Gryff responded, his tired eyes looking back at the cave nearby.
“It’s also why you waste so much coin back home,” Hugo muttered. “Five queen pieces for a flask of it. What a ripoff.”
“It is, but unless you can find something that can keep me awake for days at a time, please do tell,” Gryff chuckled lightly.
“Did you do your divination magic on it?” Hugo asked, his head turning to the darkness of the cave.
“I did,” Gryff responded, closing his eyes as he envisioned the ley lines he had seen in that black pool of water. “It’s… something else entirely,” he murmured. “Such a powerful magic, yet completely strange.”
“What do you mean?” Hugo turned to Gryff, his red eyes looking at the spellcaster with a look of curiosity. Gryff responded to his friend with a simple motion, his hand reaching into his armor. The knight pulled out a small leather object, his fingers holding it on display.
It was a rugged thing, damaged by water and time. Gryff opened the small object and displayed its contents to the other man.
“Delphine’s mercy. That’s him, isn’t it?” Hugo muttered.
“It is,” Gryff confirmed. He turned the contents to himself, his eyes examining the picture of the blond man, whose tired eyes looking at the viewer. Despite having no beard, Gryff could recognize him easily. “What did he say his name was? James Holter?” Gryff asked aloud, his eyes examining the strange dialect on the white card. It looked similar to Azuran, but the spellcaster still couldn’t read it despite being fluent in other languages.
“What is that thing?” Hugo asked carefully.
“It’s obviously something from his world,” Gryff answered, his hands picking out the moist pieces of paper inside the leather packet. They had the faces of men on them, with more of the strange dialect written on the light green notes.
“His world?” Hugo asked, confusion in his voice.
“Yes. James Holter is from another world. An Outlander,” Gryff explained. “I found traces of it in the ley lines that his summoning affected. It was like when a demonologist summons a familiar. Bits of magic leftover from the place the summoned being was taken from.” Gryff closed the leather packet, pocketing it once more. “With that information, added with whatever had happened in that shaman’s hut, I am positive he is why the ley lines were fractured.”
“So, that’s it then? We seal the source and capture James when he comes back? Make him answer for his crimes in Lumen City.”
“It’s not as simple as that, I’m afraid,” Gryff sighed tiredly, shaking his head as he started his walk back down the mountain.
“You can’t seal the source here? Do we need to get more spellcasters to assist?”
“No,” Gryff answered simply. He could easily seal the source himself, granted that he used a chunk of his reserves to do the deed. “To seal up the source, we must first deal with the ones responsible. The shaman Dahlia and her friend, James Holter.”