Trekking through the Desert Wasteland did not feel laborious if he knew where to go. Karkas returned to the Wasteland a couple of times, claiming that he knew friends that could help the town like Sil was. He wasn’t completely lying, but he couldn’t convince them to come. When he could not, he resumed his personal mission. This had been going on for three months ever since the official naming of Dragon’s Rest, during which time the temperature back in the Emerald Valley had dropped enough to make him slightly uncomfortable. He started considering wearing a coat, which was encouraged by Raine.

“It will be winter soon,” reasoned Raine. “You better start covering yourself or you won’t survive the Valley.”

Since he was raised in a region with a stable temperature all year long, he never had to deal with winter. He did not understand, but Raine convinced him that he would and wanted to spare him from learning it the hard way. Trusting his cat-eared human friend, Karkas considered it, while also using his repeated return to the Desert Wasteland to ‘warm up’.

Nevertheless, the sight of the Emerald Valley brought him the well-needed soul healing after everything he did in the Wasteland for the past month. It also indicated that his home was near, and he would be having a hearty meal while listening to music. In fact, on his way back, he already came across some travelers on the road greeting him. They stared at him a little longer than they should have, but Karkas did not mind. He was a Croc, after all, and no one of his kind ever came to the Emerald Valley except for him.

The mostly paved road led him back to Dragon’s Rest. Sitting in a shallow valley, the town could be seen in its entirety. Karkas had witnessed how the town ruins transformed into a functioning town with all the services one could provide. Granted, the town was built for more than just the people that currently live there, with most of the buildings still empty and the one that’s supposed to be a library was not well-stocked. It still served its purpose as a traveler’s rest, considering how they prioritized having the inn and the pub working.

On the outskirts of the town, several patches of land had been recently tilled. It was hard to see from where Karkas was looking, but some of the tilled plot already had sprouts with two leaves. Several ingenious ideas, including the use of a magic barrier as a form of greenhouse and the irrigation channels supplied from a nearby reservoir made the farm viable even when the air had started to get cold. It might not be as cold for the humans, the lone elf, and the beast people, but for a reptilian, the temperature drop was very apparent. He could say that his scales protected him from the cold, but sooner or later he would need an external heat source to properly warm up.

Karkas continued down the road until he reached Dragon’s Rest. It was already noon when the farmers greeted him. He knew them, but not personally. At first glance, they were furless beast people, a rarity among their kinds. Those who knew them personally, however, knew that they were, in fact, humans transformed into beast people as test subjects for a forbidden spell. When they took all the research notes and the spell tome describing Anthropos spell, Karkas gave everything to Aranis. She was drawn to the spell tome, but soon showed concern as she flipped through the pages, evident from how her elven ears twitched.

“This is a disturbing spell, devised in ancient times,” explained Aranis. “The spell they called the Anthropos spell can transmogrify men into beast, and beast into men. If proficient enough, even elves can fall victim to this spell. It seems that the arcane researchers have already understand the concept, but from the victims, it is clear that their application is poor. There is a perfectly good reason why.”

Aranis told the surprised Karkas that the spell primarily used Aether. To her, moral issues aside, any spells relying on Aether instead of mana would be disastrous. The unpredictable nature of Aether, in addition to its corrupting nature, could easily destroy the caster as well. She advised Karkas, a fellow mage who could understand the danger of forbidden spells, to seal the tome. He did so, but he needed more than just a safe to keep it.

He started to wonder if Narati could help him with it.

In any case, when he returned to the town, he was quickly greeted by one of the guards by the gates. They quickly recognized the green-scaled Crocodilian and let him through the smaller door instead of opening the whole gate, a convenience that many appreciated.

The moment he entered the town proper, he was greeted by an open-air market, which took part of the avenue by the gate. It wasn’t as big as some of the more settled towns in the Wasteland or back in his homeland, but Karkas preferred something small and familiar. Nevertheless, he understood that one day, the small market, which only had five stalls, would surely grow as the town grew.

Feeling exhausted after walking for quite a while, he went straight to his home, which was the one thing that reminded him of his homeland based on how he extensively remodeled it. It was also the primary reason why he chose a partially collapsed house.

As a result of this remodel, Karkas’s house boasted the most natural-looking appearance when compared with the rest of the town. Most of the space that was occupied by rubble was cleared to accommodate an open plan space featuring little to no furniture. The T-shaped house had one side open to the private garden behind it, in which he, with the assistance of several people with construction skills, transformed into a mix between a natural pool with several wide stones he could use to sunbath. The wall would ensure both privacy and shade, which he severely needed as sunbathing Crocodilians tended to be naked. It wasn’t much of an issue in his homeland, but Raine reminded him that the people of Emerald Valley would be flustered, even if he was covered in hard, ridged scales. This was also partially the reason why he reserved at least half of the indoor area for said natural pool.

Presently, most of the garden was nothing more than dirt, which Karkas planned to decorate with plants native to the Rivers. It could be difficult since a ‘reasonable’ seller would be reluctant to sell their goods to a tribeless Croc. He could ask his friends, since they would not mind tourists.

The thought of having a taste of his homeland so far from home calmed Karkas. He realized how he missed his home and was thinking about it several times in his sleep. Unfortunately, he would not be accepted and would only be regarded as a second-class citizen. He was no longer a priest, so he would be relegated to being a mortician. This caste system, which persisted since before the ancient war, was annoying and was the primary reason for his misgivings towards the teaching of Sobek. What he did approve of, however, was the acceptance of retribution, which was something that he kept reminding himself every time he was reminded of Asran.

His friends, especially Narati, would not accept this, so he kept this mission personal. He did not need his friends to know about his continued search. In fact, he should just forget about it for the time being and get some well-needed relaxation in the pool, which was specifically heated for his needs and also to prepare him for the winter.

Taking off all his clothes, Karkas did not hesitate to submerge himself into the warm water. No sooner than he did so, though, someone knocked at his front door. Lazily, he used a nearby scrying sphere to see who’s on the door. It was quite a useful object, especially if he did not want to be disturbed. Also, useful if he wanted to know who’s on the door without having to get off the pond.

It was Narati, still the only Fa’ar resident in the town. Given his job in a workshop, Narati decided to exchange his loincloth into proper pants while keeping his leather vest open. Somehow, he still wore the same worn-out leather collar he wore ever since they first met. He should try and change it into something newer, or maybe remove it altogether. The collar he wore, especially with the d-ring intended for a leash, could cause people to mistake him for a slave, runaway or otherwise.

It did not bother Karkas, though. Without hesitation, he said, “The door’s unlocked. Come in, Narati.”

Narati opened the door to find Karkas relaxing in his pond. The Fa’ar had been in his new home several times and was also the one who helped design it, showing an aptitude for home design. He appreciated the fact that Karkas’s home let a lot of natural light in and was especially natural when compared to his apartment. He could ask Karkas if he wouldn’t mind a roommate, but Narati preferred a compact space where everything was within reach, so he did not bother asking.

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“I heard that you came home,” said Narati while approaching the pond. “Long walk?”

“Yeah.”

“No luck?”

“Still no luck,” said Karkas with a sigh. “Guess it’s because of my appearance. I can’t blame them, though. I’m not a talker, either. I could convince some of the more liberal-thinking Crocs to come, but it’s a long way to the Rivers from here.”

“Makes you wonder why Raine chose you instead of doing it himself.”

“He’s busy being the mayor, kid. I know Jonas could deputize for him, but I doubt the human’s going for a trek any time soon. We managed to find a safe place to live in this chaotic world. After everything we’ve been through, this town feels like a reward in itself.”

“It does,” said Narati. But then, his tone changed. “But it’s hardly a reward without a certain Fa’ar groveling under you, huh?”

The sudden shift in his tone caught Karkas unaware. To think Narati had built quite a confidence to make such a cold remark with his shrill, raspy voice. The Croc turned to face the Fa’ar, who crossed his arms and glared at him.

“You don’t mind if I join you, do you?” he said, while proceeding to take off his vest and his pants. Karkas would never mind Narati bathing with him. Like Crocodilians, Fa’ars apparently did not mind a communal bath. Or maybe it was just Narati. Nevertheless, he could not say anything more before Narati had nothing on him but his fur.

The rat person climbed down beside Karkas, soaking his black fur wet which instantly reduced his profile. It was a good thing the Croc installed a magicite with purification spell; Narati’s fur was so dirty that the water became muddy and oily before the water purification spell activated, returning the water back to its usual clarity.

“So,” said Narati, his tone cold. “No luck finding Asran, eh?”

Karkas looked at the young Fa’ar with surprise. He never told anyone about his personal mission. How did Narati learn about it?

“How did you know?” asked Karkas calmly.

“I always know,” said Narati. “I know you can never let that sabangse go. You kept going on expeditions, claiming to be searching for either a blacksmith or an enchanter even though you’re self-conscious of your appearance and your status. Can’t bear looking at your rat friend if you’re still sticking to your rat hunting side job, eh?”

Narati’s cold tone was enough to cause Karkas to feel guilty. The Fa’ar was very intuitive. It had always been the case ever since their bounty hunting activities. It wouldn’t surprise the Croc that he knew.

“Nara, I—”

And just like that, Narati’s tone changed again, this time to his usual self.

“Don’t worry, Kar. I don’t hold grudges. Unlike a certain someone,” teased the Fa’ar, causing Karkas to growl. “But seriously, mi tanem. He’s not worth it. We finally got a place for ourselves. Shouldn’t we focus on giving this place a chance?”

“I…I just can’t,” said Karkas, looking away in embarrassment. “Asran’s been bugging me ever since I learned about his recent exploits. That rat…somehow, he was still at large and still very much active. During the last job where we got Herb and the others, his name popped up.”

“And you think this is your best chance to get him.” Narati let out a disappointed sigh. “I really wish you wouldn’t do that after what you did to me. Especially since you claimed that I looked like him, down to my split left ear and cut tail tip. You might as well take your revenge on me if that’ll make you feel better.”

“I would never do that to a friend!” snapped Karkas. He never thought the Fa’ar who was paralyzed by his own traumatic past could ever say something so morbid.

“Which is why I’m going to help you,” said Narati.

This caught Karkas unaware, causing him to be at a loss for words.

“H-help me?” said the Croc.

“Kar, if there’s anything you need, is that you need to relax,” said the Fa’ar. “I know you built this pond to relax your body and mind, but I doubt your spirit’s ever going to relax if Asran’s still at large.”

Karkas scoffed, but before he could say anything to retort, Narati said, “And I bet you’re going to say that I don’t know anything about you and to not pry too much into your personal life. Well, let me tell you this, Kar. The sooner you let go of your vengeance, the better your life will be. That’s why I’m going to help you. If you want to get a Fa’ar, you gotta have a Fa’ar on your side. How’s that?”

The Croc did not reply, though he was amused by Narati’s idea and reason for helping him. He was not wrong; Asran may be elusive, but that could possibly be because of Karkas’s own simple-mindedness. He could have been following the wrong path and he did not know it. Narati could help him find the right one on the virtue of being a fellow Fa’ar.

But then he wondered. How could a former slave with barely any knowledge of the world help? He could end up causing them to stray even further away from the right path. He may boast that he could help because he was a Fa’ar, but then, as far as Karkas was concerned, Narati hardly, if ever, helped with negotiations and information. He was more their expert in explosives and intimidation using his damned sawblade axe. In fact, based on what Herb told the Croc, he did not even know how trading worked, at least at first.

“I know you have doubts,” said Narati. “I can see it in your face.”

“How? I doubt you mammals know how to read a reptilian’s expression.”

“If you hang around them enough, you might get a thing or two. The one I’m still having trouble with is Tezcal.”

Karkas knew that name. Tezcal was the name the Dromerian gave to them while learning how to speak Common. As Narati said, Tezcal was closer to a bird than a Lizan, even if he was only partially covered in feathers. That wasn’t the point, however.

“Nara, I appreciate your offer for help,” said Karkas. “I really do. But this is my problem alone.”

“Now, where did I hear that before. Oh, I know. I heard it from Jacques. You reminded me of him by this point, and that concerned me. While I haven’t lost respect for him, you’re starting to act like him. I don’t want that. We may not start on the best of terms, Karkas, but you are a friend. No matter what you say, you took your chance with me despite your hatred towards Fa’ars. I want to prove to you that I can do better than being an exception to the masses. Besides, I believe that those I considered mi tanem keb deserves to be helped.”

“Mi tanem keb?” asked Karkas. He had never heard that before.

“It’s Fa’ari. For ‘my best friend’. If you want to know about us, Fa’ars consider a best friend their friend for life. And to ensure that you are still my best friend, I will do everything I can to prevent you from going down a darker path. I…can’t lose you like I lost Jacques.”

For a moment, Karkas could hear Narati’s voice cracked. He still missed Jacques and was willing to forgive his past mistakes. The Croc still could not forgive the wolf and might never be. Nevertheless, Narati’s pleading was enough to convince the Croc to back down.

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to use the wolf as a reason,” said Karkas. “I’ll let you help me, but on one condition. Do not try and stop me from exacting my revenge. We can go and search for him with your help, but when we got to him, that’s on me. You get me, kid?”

“That’s not how my vow—”

“You get me?” insisted Karkas, this time with a deep enough voice to intimidate the young Fa’ar. Narati simply nodded, especially after he heard the deep growl.

“Good,” said Karkas. “We can start with the notes. You might be able to help from there. For now, relax. You also have a long day, haven’t you?”

As Narati relaxed, trying his best not to talk about what they were going to do, he said, “No, not exactly. Bored, more like. Since we haven’t been traveling, I haven’t been gathering junk and scraps. I wouldn’t feel this bored if I still had them. Too bad we left them in that undead-infested town. How come we haven’t heard anything from that place?”

“The news must have not reached this town. We barely settled, after all. There are not a lot of visitors yet.”

“At least we got through that. Still, one way or another, I’d used up the scraps, anyway. Since you’re out traveling, I might as well tag along while helping with your search.”

“So, accompanying me is more to gather more scraps for you to tinker with?”

“Raine also asked me to tell you that we need a blacksmith, now more than ever. He wanted to get a new sword, but he did not want to travel far while there’s a town to manage. Jonas already had his hands full with the cleanup duty. He was thinking about hiring someone from his village, but he decided not to.”

“Why?”

“Out of respect, I suppose. Besides, he did not want to endanger people from around Cavilen. He said they might end up panicking and sour their relationship.”

“For someone with no qualms with killing, he’s surprisingly sentimental,” commented Karkas with a deep chuckle. “But that’s what I like about him.”

They kept talking about the situation around Dragon’s Rest, such as raider attacks or supply issues, none of which were present. Despite the apparent profile, the town was well-guarded, also helped by the fact that Raine, coordinating with nearby Knight jurisdictions, managed to root out raiders and bandits before they even become a problem for the fledgling town. Trade was open to and from nearby settlements, giving them good traffic. But despite this, they lack people with certain skills such as a blacksmith, an enchanter, a librarian, and a banker. Having Jonas responsible for the town’s coffer was only a temporary measure. Sooner or later, they should start establishing a bank for the growing town.

Karkas, despite his claims that he would want to try and find help, was too focused on following the lead from the journal he took from the lab that he neglected that part of his job. Sooner or later, someone would realize that he was only using the excuse of trying to find more people to populate the town to exact his revenge. He never thought it would be Narati.

Or maybe it was because he did not think much about what he did towards the Fa’ar kid. Personally, he felt bad, and now, with Narati reminding him of it, he felt even worse. He tried his best to prove his peers wrong, that a tribeless, Unmarked Croc like him would become something more than just a priest.

“What a petty dream,” thought Karkas.

Hopefully, Narati’s help would change his luck.