The waves slowly lapped against the harbor and port, the clouds of Valenfrost parting enough to reveal the sky and setting sun, its orange light shining all over Yorktown’s port. Among the port were four ships, three of them being permanent guests in the town’s harbor. The last one was a departing merchant ship, its crew carrying supplies and materials onto the deck to prepare for the trip to Vindis.
Dahlia Astera looked out into the sea, her eyes passing over the area where the royal ship had sunk months prior. The ice that froze the ships in place was now long gone, broken apart by the crew of Frostbite and the Draugr’s Haunt weeks ago. Even with a memory so distant, her body ached in remembrance of both the pain and the emotional weight of what had happened.
“Where will you go?” She turned to the men to her left, her question catching their attention.
Edmund looked up from his journal, his hand moving to shift his eyepatch into place.
“Azurvale, of course,” the young man answered before closing his leather-bound book. “I still have a ways to go before I’m home, but Azurvale is a good start.”
“Bah!” Bjorn called out, the dwarf’s single eye looking up at the young man. “Azurvale is boring! Valenfrost is where the real action is!”
“Valenfrost is what took your eye away and nearly cost me mine!”
“Exactly! We’re warriors bound by crisis!” Bjorn grinned viciously at Edmund, who sighed in frustration. “Stay here with us, Edmund. Fight alongside your comrades and cut down the ones who stand in our way!” Despite the dwarf’s shouts, Dahlia could tell that Bjorn was exaggerating his words, his remaining eye glinting with amusement as Edmund chuckled in response.
“I’m sorry, friend. As much as I would love to risk my life with you, I would rather go back home and put that life behind me,” Edmund chuckled.
“Hmph...” Bjorn crossed his arms, shaking his head before he turned to Miles, the ex-follower currently reading a small book of his own.
“What about you, smiley? I thought you would follow interesting people? Why are you heading out?”
“I’m only following a call Myr has given to me. I won’t be leaving permanently,” Miles chuckled at Bjorn, his hand closing his small booklet.
“A call?”
“A vision, if you will,” Miles groaned as he stood up, his newly painted mask looking over at the horizon. “The visions of Myr haven’t ceased to be interesting so far, but I have a feeling that they will lead me back here once more. Maybe in a few months, years, maybe even a week. Still, don’t expect me to leave forever.”
“Crazy bastard,” Bjorn muttered, the dwarf sitting down on a nearby crate. “I hope you all get shipwrecked and end up back here.”
“Thanks for the kind words, Bjorn. I hope the best for you, too,” Edmund shook his head before he looked over at the shaman. “So, you and the drunk are the only ones here to bid us farewell?”
“I don’t know why you’re complaining. We had an entire night of drinking dedicated to bidding the both of you farewell.” Dahlia laughed. “Everyone else is busy. Archibald and Helen are still recovering, Haggard and Seamus are finishing up on fixing the rest of the town, Dimitri and his crew are currently making sure that the ships are seaworthy again, and the guardsmen are training with Harald and Felix.”
“Fair enough,” Edmund shrugged. “Just expected a bigger crowd.” A whistle then interrupted the group’s conversation, followed by a man’s shout.
“Ship’s departing in five, boys! Hurry and get on while you can!”
Edmund sighed, his hand picking up his rucksack of supplies. Miles followed his movements, the ex-follower waving to the shaman and dwarf as he walked off.
“I’ll be back when the next interesting thing happens!” Miles shouted before he boarded the merchant ship. Edmund seemed to hesitate for a moment, but he soon followed Miles, his hand waving back at Dahlia.
“It was quite a trip running with you guys. Strangely, I think I’ll miss it,” the young man admitted.
The two men boarded the ship, which soon started its departure. Edmund waved from the rear of the vessel, with Miles boredly looking out at sea as the young man waved farewell.
“I wish you all good luck in keeping safe! I won’t forget you and James!” Edmund called out.
Dahlia waved back, a small smile on her face, as she watched the ship slowly drift out into the sea. It wouldn’t take long before the young man was no longer visible, and the ship soon grew smaller before it eventually winked out over the horizon.
“You know you shouldn’t be walking, right?” Dahlia muttered, raising an eyebrow as she looked down at Bjorn.
“I’m fine. The healer said I could move around,” the dwarf answered.
“I’m pretty sure he meant you could only move around only a couple of meters. Not the distance from your home and the tavern.” The shaman suspiciously raised an eyebrow.
Bjorn huffed at that, waving off the accusations as he walked off. “I do not know what you’re on about. All I know is that you’re stressing me out, and I need to get to the pub to get myself a comforting drink.”
Dahlia couldn’t help but chuckle softly, her head shaking as she walked off to do her own thing. The tavern would soon be filled with the guardsmen, and she did not want to get a drink with people crowding around her and the bar. Instead, she headed to her hut, her boots scraping against the cold ground as she walked through Yorktown.
She could see the newly restored buildings, a result of the townsfolk and newcomers working together to restore the town. There were even new buildings being added to the settlement, their purpose being to accommodate the recent additions to the populace. Also, the orcs Silas led. Despite their clear bias towards the brutes, the new council kept them around, as they had contributed to fighting Gryff and, therefore, were allies in a way.
Dahlia soon made her way to a small building near the town center across from the tavern. Despite not entering, she could hear voices coming from inside.
“Hey! Stop moving!”
“I said I’m fine! I’ve rested enough!”
“Oh no, you don’t!”
Then, the audible sound of something crashing came, and a third voice called out, “Hey! Careful with those!”
Dahlia sighed, shaking her head as she entered the building. She was met with the sight of the injured, which included Lilith, Archibald, some guardsmen, and Seamus and Lowe, as they held down a bandaged Helen.
“You’re going to make your wounds worse!” Seamus shouted out, doing his best to keep the ex-marauder down. She didn’t comply, however, as she quickly tried to sit up in her cot.
“It’s been weeks since that fight. I’m sure I—” Helen winced, her bandaged hand quickly moving to her abdomen.
“Rest,” Seamus reiterated, forcing Helen back onto the bed.
“Seamus is right, Helen. Your wounds still need time to heal,” Dahlia spoke out, catching the attention of everyone in the infirmary. According to the local doctor, Helen had taken most of the damage during the battle. He had initially thought she was dead the moment he had come upon her, at least until she had spat at him. Helen was lucky to be alive.
“It’s just frustrating. I’ve been cooped up in here for weeks,” Helen groaned, laying back on her cot.
“Oh, shut it. You’re not the only one trapped here,” Archibald called out in a nasal voice. Archibald had his nose bandaged and his arm slung. Another result of the battle. “You think it’s easy for me? I can’t even breathe right!”
Helen ignored the elf’s complaints, her eyes focusing on Dahlia. “How much longer until I’m ready?”
“I’d give it another month. We’re low on potions and medicine, so it’ll be a rough time until we can procure some more,” Dahlia answered.
Helen visibly gritted her teeth, her head laying back on her thin pillow. “Fine,” she mumbled.
“That’s the spirit.” Seamus grinned, elbowing Helen as she annoyingly grunted.
Dahlia turned her focus to Archibald and Lilith, who were placed side by side despite the elf’s protests. He had apparently been uncomfortable with the berserker since she had weirded him out. Despite his complaints, there wasn’t really anything Dahlia could do since there wasn’t much space in the infirmary. As of now, Archibald will have to deal with the red-haired menace.
“How are you feeling?” Dahlia asked the mercenary.
“Like shit. These beds itch like no other, and I have to deal with… her.” Archibald eyed Lilith, who was peacefully napping nearby.
“I’ll see what I can do. For now, you’ll have to deal with your current living conditions.” Dahlia turned to Seamus, who was looking better than he had a week ago. The bruising on his face had gone down, and his injuries were now next to nil. He also seemed lively and a bit more outgoing than his anxious self from a couple of months ago.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
‘I wonder what changed him?’
It could’ve been Helen. Dahlia had heard about how the ex-marauder had sacrificed herself to ensure Seamus’s survival. It could also be Lilith or Lowe, as both were linked to his past life, according to James.
‘James…’
“I have to get going,” Dahlia suddenly said, giving her farewells to the others before she left the infirmary.
Dahlia made her way through the snowy path leading up to her hut, her eyes looking up at the purple and orange sky.
‘I can’t wait for Frost to be over with.’
She sighed, her mind wandering to last year, back when the town had celebrated the end of Frost with the Bloom Solstice Festival. She drooled at the thought of food and music, the lively event sure to ease her stress from these last months. Just as she was thinking about the festival’s delicacies, her hut finally came into view.
Dahlia hurried her way up the snowy path before she soon reached her hut’s door, her security runes letting her in without question. She stepped into the cozy home, sighing in relief as warmth embraced her. The fire was still on, filling the large living space with its heat. As Dahlia prepared to take off her cloak, she suddenly realized that the cot on her left was empty, and the boots that sat by it were now gone.
‘He’s like a child, I swear.’
She headed back out, her boots crunching on the piling snow. Dahlia trekked out into the cold, her feet guiding her to the nearby mountain. She took the path that led to the small cave on its side, the same one where she had summoned the otherworldly man.
Dahlia could still remember the ritual she had performed that night. It was one she had copied from her mentor’s old journals, a specific ritual that summoned a low-ranking demon. The runes that required its summoning were said to rip the demon from its dimension, manifesting it into the real world and forcibly replacing its language with the summoner’s preferred tongue.
The young man’s summoning was nothing like what the journal described it to be. There was no mist or grand sparks, not even a circle of demonic runes forming anywhere. What had happened was that the runes drawn around the pool of water had brightened and suddenly fizzled out, making the shaman believe she had failed. Until a blond man in strange clothing burst from the waters, his first words unrecognizable until they had suddenly transitioned to Azuran. Dahlia found it curious how he had transitioned without realizing it, never even knowing that he was speaking Azuran until the shaman had told him weeks back.
‘Stranger and stranger.’
Dahlia smiled as she recalled how they met and how James had nearly tried to stab her out of fear.
‘Good times.’
The icy wind blew past her during her small trek, almost discouraging her, but she pressed on nonetheless. It wasn’t long until she was finally at the small mountain’s cliff, the view of the setting sun distant on the horizon. Her eyes weren’t focused on the beautiful sight; instead, they focused on the young man sitting on the cliff’s edge.
“James,” she sighed, the blond man reacting with a jolt of surprise.
“Ah… You came back earlier than I would’ve thought,” James gave a nervous smile. “I just needed to think. That’s all.”
“Really?” Dahlia couldn’t help but smile. The shaman moved to sit next to him, her feet hanging off the edge, not unlike James. “Is watching the sunset part of your thinking process?”
“Not really. It’s the quiet that does most of the work, actually.” James bit into a piece of rabbit jerky, something he had definitely taken from the shaman’s food storage.
Dahlia chuckled at his response, her eyes focusing on the young man’s bandaged hand and forearm, which she had to change now and then. Not because blood stained the wraps but because James’ arm had formed frost over them, wetting the white cloth.
“Does it still hurt? Your arm.”
“No. It’s weird. I can still feel it and move it, but the cold is still there, and it still forms ice over it sometimes. Even Faust can’t make out what it is…”
“Can I see it?” Dahlia asked, her morbid curiosity getting the better of her.
James nodded at her request, his right hand slowly unwrapping his left. Before long, Dahlia could see bits of the black skin getting exposed before finally being fully unwrapped.
It looked frostbitten, and its skin shriveled up in some places. Still, it moved around as if it were a normal hand, small bits of ice forming at the fingertips. Dahlia cautiously touched the hand, feeling how cold it was.
“Unbelievable. There’s some magic in there, but I’m not sure what to make of it.” She pulled her fingers back, feeling how numb they had gotten. There was even a small layer of frost over her palm. “If I had to guess… When Gryff used his Deep Freeze on you, right when your minds were clashing, I think his affinity to cryomancy passed onto you.” She frowned, hesitating with her theory. “I’m not really sure, but it looks like your hand can form ice out of nothing, just like a natural cryomancer.”
“That’s insane.” James looked down at his hand.
Dahlia nodded. “Still, it is just a theory. We have to test it out a bit more before we can get a grip on your abilities. After you fully recover, of course.”
“Oh c’mon,” James groaned.
“Don’t try that ‘Oh c’mon’ stuff on me. You’re getting rest, and that’s final,” Dahlia ordered.
James sighed, his hand wrapping his left as he looked out at the horizon.
“Can we at least watch the sunset?”
“Of course.” Dahlia grinned a little at James, watching the young man smile back, his blue eyes glancing at the evening’s end.
“How are things below?” James asked.
“Edmund and Miles just left for Vindis not too long ago. Archibald and Helen are still recovering. Haggard seems like he’s going to stay around. Brant is recovering, and Finn is… well, it’s complicated. As for the others…”
“What is it?” James raised an eyebrow at the shaman, who shrugged.
“The orcs and people you saved on that island. They only want to answer to you,” Dahlia muttered. “They refused to listen to the council and have formed their own little section in the restored part of town.”
“What? Why?” The young man furrowed his brow in confusion, looking down at the shaman in disbelief.
“James, they look up to you. Both the orcs and people. Ever since Gryff, they’ve been wanting to follow only you. They even started their own little clan down there. I’m sure you can guess what the name is,” Dahlia explained.
“Dammit,” James sighed in frustration, his fingers rubbing at his eyes.
“If you don’t like it, you can always change the name. Or disband it,” the shaman suggested.
“I can’t disband it. Those people will follow me regardless of what I think. Even if I stopped it, it’d probably end ugly,” James murmured.
“Why don’t you just… Accept it, then? Take up the responsibility and lead them,” Dahlia shrugged.
The blond man was silent for a moment, his blue eyes looking out at the sunset.
“Can I? Should I? Their lives would be in my hands. I doubt I can do it all on my own.”
“You won’t be on your own.” Dahlia flashed a smile at James, which seemed to ease his stress a bit. “You’ll have me, Seamus, and Faust with you all the way. Not to mention Felix and everyone else in town.”
Dahlia knew James could lead the people who followed and looked up to him. Ever since the Battle for Yorktown, people had developed a sense of respect for James, thanks to the survivors of the islands and his fight against Gryff. It was enough of an act that his exile was revoked, meaning the otherworldy man was finally home on the small island.
“I guess I could use the help,” James admitted.
“Good.” Dahlia smiled. That was one issue solved, but there was still more. “There are still other problems,” the shaman started, earning a soft, tired groan from James.
“What is it?”
“Felix still thinks that the warriors who escaped will come back, possibly with their leader. I’m unsure what clan they follow, but judging from the hawk insignia…”
“Nothing good,” James finished. “Let’s not forget the tribe of orcs we pissed off. The Lumen Kingdom those knights came from and those abominations from hel.” James’ words sent a chill down Dahlia’s spine, her mind wandering to that freakish, deformed bear back on that island.
“That’s a lot of enemies to make in the span of a couple of months,” she muttered.
“No kidding. Still…” James trailed off, his azure eyes glancing at the town below. It had grown in the last couple of months, all thanks to the otherworldly man and his group of oddball companions.
“We still have time until the next inevitable threat. Best we make the most of it,” Dahlia suggested. Yorktown was stronger, and the shaman had no doubts it would grow even more in strength in the upcoming months.
Her words seemed to hang in the air for a moment. The young woman watching James took in their meaning. They were both silent for a moment before a white raven suddenly flew into view, the beautiful bird landing nearby. James turned to the small creature, watching as the raven pecked at a tiny insect before it gobbled it down with brief hesitation. The shaman focused on the white-feathered bird with fascination, watching as the raven curiously neared James with no visible fear or hesitation.
“A white raven. What a sight,” Dahlia murmured, her eyes fixated on the curious bird. “The shaman who raised me cared for the ravens that flocked nearby. Always told me that white ravens were a sign of good luck.” She watched as James held out a small piece of jerky to the raven, who tilted its head before it snatched the piece of meat, gobbling it down.
“Funny. My mother loved ravens. She even called me her little Kvitravn,” James chuckled. “Told me it means white raven.”
Dahlia couldn’t help but stifle a small laugh. “Really? That’s adorable!” She could see how James’ cheeks turned into a bright red out of embarrassment. “I’m sorry, it’s just… That’s a really sweet name,” Dahlia grinned at James, who laughed a little as he tossed the rest of the jerky to the white raven, who was now closer. It ate the rest of the dried meat, comfortably staying right next to the young man as it watched him with its curious blue eyes.
“You know, I might have an idea for what to name our little clan we started.” James looked down at Dahlia, who raised an eyebrow.
She had a clue what the young man was thinking. “Look at you, James Holter, already excited about the prospect of being a clan leader. Perhaps one day you shall be Jarl.”
“Jarl Holter. It has a ring to it,” James joked. Both of them then burst into laughter, both finding the idea of Jarl amusing.
They both sat there for a while longer with the small raven, their laughs slowly dying out. Soon, they both ended up watching the sun sink below the horizon, the stars in the sky finally becoming visible. Dahlia looked up at the stars, sighing softly as she moved her hand to James’. She gave his hand a small squeeze, a small smile appearing on her face as he squeezed back. She rested her head on his shoulder, sighing once more as she felt his warmth. Dahlia could stay there all night with no responsibilities and no memory of the dangers she had endured.
‘What a perfect moment.’
Still, despite it all, those responsibilities and dangers still existed, and she knew it wouldn’t be long until the temperatures of the night would soon start dropping. She shifted a little, moving to get comfortable with the blond man’s body heat. She stopped, her eyes looking at James as he turned to her, a confused eyebrow raised.
Dahlia opened her mouth to explain but felt… wrong, ruining a perfect moment like this. The stars were twinkling in the partially cloudy night sky, James’ azure eyes looking into her amber irises. They were absolutely still for what seemed like hours, their eyes locked onto each other. Soon, Dahlia could feel her body leaning forward, unable to stop herself as James leaned into her as well. She could feel her eyes close, not a single thought or word passing through her mind as her hands gently cupped the blond man’s cheeks.
The shaman kissed the man from Earth, their hands moving to pull each other closer and closer.
For the first time in years, Dahlia felt a happiness she thought she’d forgotten.