“Here take this.” I hand over my backpack and my knife. I really don’t need either. I pulled up the backpacks from the “exploratiory” group, and I only need one to avoid questions. I can only imagine if people found me in the middle of the “wilds” without a knife and backpack. It really is just camouflage.

“I just loaded this yesterday morning. There is enough food to last a couple days.” The owl should be able to keep him out of most trouble. I just need to get him on the path to the girls. He can decide what he wants to do after that.

I pull him…gently…out of the camp pyramid and direct him back up the mountain range.

“Follow this line of pinel trees up the mountain. You will come across a narrow path over the mountains…and by narrow, your flying friend will have to fly high overhead. There is just enough room for one person, with a shoulder on the mountain walls. When you get to the other side, you will see a small lake. Head for the far side…and stay there. Fish, camp…do what you do to survive.” I look at him. There is still a bit of the glaze he had last night, but it’s less.

“Follow the pinel trees. Narrow pass. Far side of a lake. Fish.” His voice is still a stilted, but I can’t fix hatred and abuse. It’s up to him.

“There is a family in that valley. DO NOT mess with them. Be respectful. They are more powerful than you, and they will know you are coming.” I can see fear in his eyes. Humanity sucks.

“Do…do I have to meet them? Can’t I just come with you?” I have to admit I considered it, but I can’t protect him from everything. The bond is going to help, but if he gets knee deep in a village, they won’t let him develop the bond.

“I have business in a couple villages in the area…and I am working through things just like you. You need time to solidify your bond and regain yourself. I had to do it myself. It takes time. Time to learn to sing with the song and not be driven mad by it.” I can feel it. He just needs someone to hold onto him long enough to regain his footing…like my guardian. Hopefully, the owl will take that roll.

“…and I am scared. Scared that if I take you along, I will have to kill more people. Maybe half of the people I killed yesterday were just scared. Even though they were trash, I still feel their deaths.” As I look into his eyes, I can see the understanding. He may have been a Strong for a couple years…maybe his family protected him…I don’t know the story. I don’t want to know the story. I have enough guilt on my plate. I can guide him though…maybe he will do better than me.

“Follow the trail. The people on the other side have been through the same shit you have. Treat them, as you would have someone treat yourself. Ok?” He just nods. The owl leaps off an adjacent tree and screams into the morning mist.

“Good luck. I will check in from time to time, but you will not see me…try to be a decent person.” He looks up from the ground. I can see him gritting his teeth. The nod that follows is firm. A few steps later and he is out of the camp and heading up the mountain.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

I can feel his influence on the wind essence in the area. It still has spikes of chaos, but it’s much more harmonious than before. Someone will have to be tracking him to find him now…I think…maybe. For now, he has time. The trip will take a couple days and the girls will probably be able to guide him further.

I turn from his disappearing figure and begin to sink my stone house. Nothing remains after I am done. The ashes from the fire, the lines in the soil…all gone.

I pick through the backpacks again to make sure I haven’t missed anything.Nothing really.I sink the backpacks into the earth and swing the remaining backpack across my shoulder.As I begin heading to the village, I start to whistle up a tune my father taught me years ago…maybe I was four or five.I settle my inner self back into the essence and listen for anything abnormal.

I decided on the village last night. I need to know if the “explorers” were just that, or just village guards playing bandit. Besides, my home is only a half day walk.

Three hours later, I am standing on the edge of the forrest looking down to the village. They have cleared out around the village walls. It must be a good kilometer between the last of the trees and the walls. Trenches fan out from the walls like concentric circles…and they are deep. Through the earth essence, I can see tunnels that connect all the circles back to the main and back gates…like ribs on a fan.

They have not been used recently however…I can see where small areas have collapsed and weeds and saplings are growing in some of the shallower portions of the trenches. I wonder if they were ever used…or was this just more paranoia and fear.

As I head towards the main gate, I have to skip over a few of the trenches…and I under-estimated the size of the jump on one trench. I could have easily broken a bone or two, if I had fallen. I can hear the faint laughter from the nearest tower…it’s the same tower from all those years ago.

As I steady my balance, I look up to the walls and see a couple people leaning on the edge, looking down. I wave up to them, and I get a gentle wave back. It stuns me for a bit. I have had such bad dealings with people over the last few years, that seeing a general kindness is a little up-lifting.

I skip over the last few trenches and come up on the road to the main gate. There is no line here, like the last time I approached this village. The gates are open though…that is a good sign…right?

As I enter the shadow of the primary gate, I can see two guards on the other side of the entrance tunnel. I wave, and begin walking up the ramp. The ramp is clean. It also shows signs of recent heavy use. I can feel the repairs that get done daily.

Did I show up on an off day?…or maybe they have larger caravans now. No way to know without moving forward.

As I approach the two guards, I can hear someone yelling from somewhere, “He is clear, probably an influencer.” Huh, I guess they were checking on me. A good idea considering the past.

“Hello, I am Ben Goodfellow.” I hope my greeting is common enough.

“Nice to meet you Ben. What are you doing…an influencer…traveling alone in these woods. I know we don’t have a lot of beasts anymore, but it’s still deadly out there.”

“Ah, well, I am looking for my sister…or brothers…we got separated when I was young. So, I was hoping I could stay here for a couple days and see if they are around…and if not, I will move on.”

“Well, you are welcome to. Check your coin with the coinerage just pass the gate. We have had some issues with poor weights from some of the smaller kingdoms. It won’t stand here…and none of the businesses in the village will accept coin from anywhere but Qual…so it’s something you are going to have to do.”

“Ok, thanks. Umm, is it always this quiet here? It looks like the road is well worn, but I don’t see a soul moving around.” The guard chuckles with that.

“Nah, it’s just slow. It happens. The caravans are moving like armies lately with all the banditry and such. Lots of unrest in the area to the north…so we get escaping soldiers, soldier gangs, etc. Have to admit you look a bit young, else I would have placed you as a runaway soldier.” With that he waves me through, and I take my first steps into my village in 10 years.

I take about 15 steps into the village, and someone, much shorter than me, blocks my way.

“Ben Goodfellow, you are a dumbass.” I look down into the eyes from my past…familial eyes…my sister’s eyes. When did she get so short?