“What’s wrong?” Caden asked, looking back at Storyteller. His voice was as tired as the rest of him.
The two were walking along an actual road for the first time since they had left Kellister. Days of traveling through the woods along glorified deer trails and the remains of what might’ve once been service roads for some town’s lumber work had eventually carried them to a small village a few dozen miles south-west of Kellister. Barely more than a score of homes huddled around an inn, surrounded by acres of farmland, Caden wasn’t even sure the tiny settlement had a name.
They hadn’t stayed long enough to find out. Unable to find a hunter chief in the little village, Storyteller had simply asked one of the only three resident hunters if they were having any monster problems. After he received a negative response, the pair were back on the road without even spending a night.
That was only the beginning of Storyteller’s odd behavior. The adventurer had generally taken a very relaxed approach to their travels, never in any particular rush and always happy to take a break to do lessons or practice Caden’s weapon work. That leisurely pace had paid dividends over the weeks, and Caden felt confident that he now had a comfortable handle on not just the dozen best known archetypes in the Realm, but also with a variety of weaponry, ranging from his typical bow and axe to both short and long blades, daggers, and even spears and heavy weapons.
But that placid energy had dwindled as they approached that tiny village, and vanished completely after they had passed through it. Increasingly, Storyteller seemed driven to reach Jellis. He became more and more reticent, their idle traveling conversation becoming a thing of the past as his attention turned more and more inwards, often muttering to himself in a low voice Caden couldn’t make out while his eyes roamed around restlessly, as if seeing something other than the road stretching ahead of them.
For three days now they had woken at sunrise and walked until well past sunset. Caden used his boosted awareness to keep moving through the dark until his stamina eventually failed him. But as soon as the sun peeked over the horizon, Storyteller would shake him awake to eat a brief, cold breakfast before they resumed moving. Caden was increasingly sure that the enigmatic adventurer wasn’t even doing whatever sort of relaxation he did instead of sleep.
It was the afternoon of their fourth day of this grueling pace when the tall, lean man had abruptly stopped in the middle of the road. He turned his head to look up at the sky intently, his eyes moving as if tracking something drifting through the sky.
“Teller? What’s wrong?” Caden repeated.
The man suddenly blinked, shaking his head. He shook himself a little, and Caden couldn’t help but notice his eyes seem to flash even as he blinked, from piercing blue to ominous yellow to mocking green before resting on warm, distracted brown again. “Apologies. Let’s go.”
“No,” Caden told him. It had taken him more than three days, but the celestial had finally reached his limit. Just as he had when they had left Kellister, Caden folded his arms and placed his legs. “No. I’m not continuing until you tell me what’s going on.”
Storyteller turned to look at him, and Caden was shocked to see a flash of actual irritation pass over his face. His tone was flinty as he said, “Caden. We do not have time for this. If we hurry, we can make Jellis tonight. Let’s. Go.”
Caden blinked, surprised at the man’s rough tone. Never, in all the time he had known Storyteller, had he heard the powerful adventurer let that much anger into his tone, and Caden was very suddenly reminded that “all the time he had known Storyteller” was a bit less than three months. “Please… just tell me what’s going on.”
Storyteller grimaced again, his upper lip twitching for a moment. His eyes flashed to blue as he opened his mouth, then he paused, closing his eyes and mouth alike for a moment. When he opened them again, they were the normal brown–but for the first time, Caden was left wondering if what he thought of as Storyteller’s actual personality was even genuine, or if those gentle brown eyes were yet another mask.
“I can’t,” Storyteller finally said. “Not this, not to you, and not right now. None of it is right. We need to keep moving.”
Storyteller’s eyes grew dark, changing to a gray so bleak it was nearly black, a color Caden had never seen before, even as his face hardened. “Now you will follow me. We need to reach Jellis, and we need to do it today.”
Caden blanched, his frustration knocked out of him by sheer shock at the sudden change in Storyteller. He knew, of course, that Storyteller was high level, perhaps more so than anyone he had ever met, but this was the first time since that hopeless, terrifying day in the barrens that Caden really felt the stark difference between them.
“I need an answer.” Storyteller’s tone was, if anything, more sepulchral when he spoke again.
“I… I can’t,” Caden told him. Storyteller face darkened more, and he hastily added, “I mean, I just can’t, Teller! We’ve been going nonstop for three days. Another day like this… I’m going to drop dead before we make it to Jellis! I don’t have the stamina for it.”
Storyteller winced, sympathy and frustration warring on his face, and suddenly it was the relaxed, brown-eyed Storyteller looking at her. “Of course. I should’ve known I was pushing you too hard.” Instead of offering a break, the adventurer began patting down his cloak, until he pulled out a silver flask. He screwed off the cap, sniffed at whatever was inside, and nodded. “Here.”
The adventurer tossed the flask to Caden. “Take a sip of that every time you need to, but no more than once an hour.”
He didn’t wait for a response, turning back down the road. Caden frowned down at the flask, but after a moment, did as Storyteller bid. The potion inside tasted faintly of the metal of its container, but was otherwise an odd, rich earthiness, thicker and darker than any tea he had before.
Caden’s eyes went wide the moment the drink settled in his stomach. He felt energized in a way no potion had made him feel before. It was closer to when he used his Soul Surge on stamina, but it went deeper than that. He didn’t just feel revitalized, he felt hyper, like he had just taken a sip of the first warm spring day after a long winter. Curious, he used one of his abilities on the flask.
[Wanderer’s Knowledge] activated
Replenishing Flask - Artifice - Any liquid placed in this flask will slowly replenish so long as it is not entirely emptied. Replenishment is affected by the magical potency of the liquid. Mundane liquids replenish rapidly.
Energy Potion - Alchemical - Restores and slightly boosts stamina and focus temporarily. Additionally, acts as a stimulant, increasing energy, and provides minor nourishment.
Caden’s brows went higher as he read through the two item descriptions, both representing a kind of magical item he had never seen before. “I’ve got to learn more about magic…” he muttered to himself.
“LET’S GO!” Storyteller’s shout from down the road made Caden jump. Looking up, he saw that the adventurer still hadn’t stopped, clearly expecting Caden to catch up on his own.
With a grin, the energized celestial used Soul Surge to boost his speed and set out after the older adventurer.
#
It was well past nightfall before the two of them saw the lights of Jellis in the distance, so much more brilliant and sprawling than Felisen or Kellister. Before he had become more withdrawn, Storyteller had told Caden some things about their destination, and Caden was excited to see such a large town. So far, Kellister had been the only village they had passed through that was as big as Felisen, with most being much smaller. The prospect of a settlement as large as Jellis was a brand new experience to Caden.
Caden took another sip from the flask at his side. As the item’s description had promised, it had refilled despite his constant draws from it, and it still felt about half-full. Still, he hoped that this would be the last he’d need to make it to the distant town.
Storyteller had remained focused and quiet for the remainder of the day, but Caden thought he seemed somewhat more troubled than he had before.
As they neared the limits of the large town ahead, Caden was surprised to see a small cluster of men standing in the middle of the road. While there was no gate worth the name, a tall and sturdy fence straddled either side of the road, with the men standing between two large beams anchoring each end of the fenceline, funneling travelers towards them.
“Bandits?” Caden asked, his voice rough from a day of disuse.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“Nothing as suspicious as that,” Storyteller replied, his steps slowing for the first time since their earlier argument. “Merely a checkpoint.”
Storyteller lifted a hand in greeting as they approached the group of suspicious looking men. “Ho there gentlemen, good evening!”
One man had his weight rested casually on a six-foot spear as he inspected Storyteller and Caden. “Welcome, travelers. What brings you in so late?”
“Nothing less than a warm bed and the famed hospitality of Jellis, of course!” Storyteller replied jovially.
Standing behind him, Caden couldn’t see Storyteller’s eyes, but assumed they had switched to his charismatic, joking green-eyed persona. Nonetheless, the man seemed unswayed by the casual response.
“Be that as it may, few would brave the roads this late.”
“Oh?” Storyteller asked guilelessly.
“Few legitimate travelers, at least,” the man clarified. “Unfortunately, I will need to search you, to ensure you’re bringing no contraband or unsavory goods into our fair town.”
Still behind him, Caden couldn’t see Storyteller’s face, but he noted the way the adventurer’s back straightened. “That is indeed unfortunate, as I can’t permit that.”
Something must’ve shown in Storyteller’s expression as he spoke, judging by the reaction of the men at the checkpoint. The spokesman blanched, his grip tightening on his spear, and while none of the half-dozen men quite drew steel, Caden could feel the air practically boiling with the potential for violence.
What was wrong with Storyteller? This behavior was just as unlike him as his threatening manner when Caden had confronted him earlier. The adventurer was used to being seen with suspicion by townsfolk like this, and normally he had no problem adapting to that wariness, but now he seemed like he was almost ready to start a fight, here and now.
Caden thought rapidly, trying to figure out how to defuse the situation, but was saved from action by a loud voice calling out from behind the checkpoint.
“Storyteller! Is that you?”
The spokesman for the checkpoint blinked in surprise, turning as the men behind him moved aside for whoever had spoken.
“Sheriff Elway sir? You know this man?”
Sheriff Elway proved to be an absolute mountain of a man, nearly as tall as Storyteller and perhaps twice as wide around. Caden was immediately reminded of Denning, his mother’s second in Felisen. But Denning’s manner was usually quiet and composed, a far cry from this swaggering giant. Elway’s skin was different too, the rich dark brown of the best sort of wood, as opposed to the more fair, tanned color common in the heartlands. Storyteller had told Caden that sort of dark skin was common to those from the coastal city of Westerlen, but the closest he had ever seen was Callahan and Brian, who had some Westian blood in them.
“Of course I do! Jellis itself owes him twice over!” Elway confidently strode out of the checkpoint, past the men. He held out a hand, which Storyteller eagerly shook, the earlier tension slowly draining away.
“Good to see you, Elway,” Storyteller greeted the man.
“And yourself! Been, what, half a dozen years since you made your way through here?”
“Something like that.”
“And who’s this?” Elway asked, turning to look at Caden.
“My trainee,” Storyteller explained. “Caden or Cadence, depending on the day.”
The man shrugged his shoulders in a tectonic motion. “Welcome to Jellis then, Caden. You know the way in from here, aye Teller?”
“Sir?” the leader of the checkpoint group spoke up, still seeming surprised for some reason. Was Elway’s behavior that odd, or was Caden missing something? “The search? It’s two hours past sundown.”
Elway snorted. “Son, this fellow is a hero in his own right, and I’ve got no doubt that if you tried to search him, you’d be in for a nasty shock. Pick your battles.”
The man seemed shaken by Elway’s words, but given his manner and the deference the checkpoint guards showed the massive man, Caden figured “sheriff” to be some sort of leadership position, and Elway’s words were apparently enough to make the men stand down.
The sheriff waited a moment to ensure he was understood, then turned back to Storyteller. “Right then, should be easy enough for you to find accommodation. We can catch up tomorrow?”
“Actually, I was hoping you’d walk us into town,” Storyteller told him, “if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
Elways arched an eyebrow thoughtfully. Caden had quickly got the impression that under his swaggering personality and massive frame, the sheriff had a keen mind and had understood far more than Storyteller had said with that simple request.
“That right?” Elway turned back to the spearman who had spoken earlier. “What do you think, Jon? Can you hold down the fort for a bit longer without antagonizing any other local heroes?”
#
“Aye, so about half my hunters are on what you could call normal duty, the rest serve as supervising officers to my guards,” Elway explained to Caden. The celestial was interested in the intricacies of the large town’s militia, and couldn’t help peppering the sheriff with questions.
“So your hunters have archetype gifts, then the guards use relic gifts?”
“Just the one relic each, then we’ve got an armsmaster who comes through once a year to get the rest gifts from the Warrior. We use the good totems and ensouled items when we can get them, but about half are swiners.”
“Swiners?”
“They have the gift of the swine,” Storyteller explained. “There are a few ranches in Valley Hearth and up by Arsilet that raise sounders of domesticated magic boars. Their meat, skin, and tusks all have uses as reagents, and they periodically produce totems.”
“That makes the gift of the boar one of the most common relic gifts in the Realm,” Elway told Caden. “The swiners with that gift have got a bit of a reputation for being cheap muscle, but they’re the best way to get a battle-gifted up to at least Apprentice quick and easy.”
Caden frowned. “But… Why not give them two relic gifts? Wouldn’t that allow you to advance them even quicker?”
“Doesn’t work like that. Relic gifts can’t be put together that easy.”
Caden opened his mouth, that answer spawning another half-dozen questions in his mind. “But-”
“Later,” Storyteller cut him off. “Elway. What’s wrong?”
The massive sheriff gave Storyteller a shrewd look. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”
Storyteller responded with a flat look. “Because I’m here, Elway. Tell me.”
The big man sighed. “Fine. There’ve been some problems up north, along the Flax.”
“Problems?”
“Attacks,” he clarified. “Always targeting low level gifted, Apprentice or lower. It’s been slowing down trade a fair bit since spring.”
Storyteller frowned. “And? What have your men dug up?”
“A whole lot of nothing.” Elway shook his head. “Once we puzzled out the problem, I sent my best Apprentice hunter out with a partner and four guards, all Apprentice or at the height of Novice. None of ‘em came back, and I couldn’t afford to keep throwing my men into a thresher.”
“Hence the checkpoints?”
“Yep. Me or one of my deputies check in at each one every couple hours.”
“What about the wardens?”
The sheriff huffed derisively. “They sent some patrols out, but you know the wardens. No squad goes out without an Initiate or Adept leading ‘em, so they found squat.”
You can’t be serious.”
The sheriff sighed, and seemed reluctant when he admitted, “They did send some recruits out, a pair of Novice girls. Even brought a squire with them, if you can believe that. Some noble brat. They got into town a few days back.”
“Did they find anything?”
“Not so you’d note. Some low rank undead, and a few storm monsters that almost got ‘em killed. Their caravan’s supposed to be leaving in another few days.”
If not for the time he had spent traveling with Storyteller, Caden doubted he would’ve noted Teller’s subtle reaction to the man’s words. Elway certainly didn’t. But Storyteller was clearly interested in what the man had just said.
Instead of saying that though, Storyteller thanked Elway, and told him they’d make it to town from there. Despite his suspicious nature, the sheriff graciously accepted the flimsy excuse, and the two were soon alone once more.
Storyteller stood in place for a few moments, his eyes distant, his lips moving silently.
“He seems… nice?” Caden said awkwardly after a full minute of silence.
Storyteller started at the words, then chuckled. “He’s not. But he is one of the most dangerous men in the heartlands.”
Caden nodded slowly. “What he said, the uhm… ‘undead.’ That’s important, isn’t it?”
“It is.” Storyteller’s words seemed troubled as they started walking again. “I can’t quite see how but… yes. It’s definitely important.
Caden nodded again. “So… what are we going to do about it?”
“An excellent question. One we’ll discuss tomorrow, I think.”