1.08

The five of them marched on at an impressive rate for some time, eager to leave the battle behind.

After stumbling for a third time, Bodwyn called for a rest. Sharampf looked at his bloodied, matted fur with deep concern.

“Okay. We’ll rest here for a bit,” agreed Fenrick.

“Give me close to an hour. I’ll be able to use some magic then too.” Bodwyn gave a brave, cheeky smile.

“Rest up then. Set up anything you need. I’ll try and find some food.” Fenrick nodded and made to start.

“I’ll join you. I’m pretty good at finding stuff. I’ve literally found a needle in a haystack, twice. Long story.” Mamzo joined Fenrick.

“Tad, can you please stay here? Help keep them safe, just in case.” The tortoise yawned and nodded and lay on the ground.

Mamzo and Fenrick disappeared into the forest, leaving the other three behind.

“Now, what can we do to help you rest up?” Sharampf asked. She paced around and looked for anything that may help.

“A fire would be great. Now we’ve stopped, I’ve noticed the chill.” At that moment, Bodwyn shivered a little.

“I’ve got just the thing.” Sharampf gathered twigs and pointed her mechanical hand at it. With the press of a button, a small fire shot out and the twigs burst with warmth.

“That’s a neat trick,” Bodwyn chirped.

“Thanks.” Sharampf smiled with pride.

“Have you invented many other things?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a few. But so far, this is my best. A tool with many uses. Got a lot of ideas for upgrades. Like, what if one, or more, could be controlled by the mind? Instead on relying on physical reflex?” Sharampf’s excitement ramped as she spoke.

“It’s pretty cool. Have you tried to seek funding from any of the academies? The one at Juniper Hill may be the smallest, but they seem to have the most intakes.”

“I…” Sharampf’s facial expression turned grim, and her posture seemed to shrink a little.

“You don’t have to say.”

“I’ve been blacklisted from all of them.” Sharampf’s blast sounded like a singular word.

“Oh. Well, that sucks.”

“Something didn’t go to plan. It went very badly. And now I’m blacklisted.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Bodwyn shuffled a little on the log. Small talk was easy, but emotional depth quickly became uncomfortable.

“Where’s your magic from?” Sharampf’s started a little shaky. “You don’t seem to manipulate the arcane particles like wizards do. So, you’re a warlock?

“Yep. That’s very astute of you.”

Magic on Merrin came in a few flavours.

One could learn to manipulate what was known as the arcane particles. Literal particles of magic that was everywhere in the air of the world. Wizards studied and practiced this. Through incantations and motions, they could achieve powerful things as well as simple tricks. All believed it was a gift from the gods, but not all could wield it.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Magic within nature. The kind of magic druids used, borrowed from, took from, and gave back. They were in tune with the elements that made up the essence of Merrin. They were less common than wizards, and they are unable to wield the arcane particles.

Magic could be granted by a willing being, entity, creature. This was normally done in two distinct ways.

A Paragon could grant magic to their followers, or clerics. These were gifts that could easily be taken away. Generally, these followers want to help spread and support the wills of their Paragons.

Then there was another way, a pact could be made. A literal contract would be made between two parties. These could be broken by the one who was granted the abilities, often with dire consequences.

Upon Merrin, there was an even rarer kind of magic. It could be found within a unique few. These were paladins. They made a pledge on how they were going to live, and they were unshakeable in this way. This was their Creed. For a paladin to break their Creed could mean they lost their power, or even their life. Upon making their Creed, a paladin chose how much to put on the line, the stronger the resolve, the bigger the repercussions, the more powerful the paladin.

Though in some instances, when everything was on the line, it was known a few had pledged themselves to a Creed, and didn’t know what it was after the moment had passed. Some had died because of this mistake.

“Has that map got something to do with it?”

“Yeah. It does.”

“What’s so important about the map?”

“It’s part of the deal. It leads me to where I need to go, to hold up my end of the bargain.” Bodwyn’s sullen tone weighed heavy.

“And if you don’t?” Sharampf looked concerned as she asked the question.

“I lose my magic. Possibly more.” Bodwyn looked at the ground.

“What if you do make it to where you need to go? What happens then?”

“I don’t exactly know.”

“I’ll help you get there.”

“Why?” Bodwyn was taken aback.

“Why not? Have some adventures along the way, I show off my inventions. We make it to where you need to go and keep you alive. I think that sounds like a great plan, don’t you?”

“Deal.” The two of them shook hands.

“Do you have any food?” Sharampf’s stomach gurgled loudly.

“No, sorry.”

“Did you serve in the war?” Fenrick asked. The two hadn’t been trying very hard in finding anything.

“Yeah. Part of the Hedge Guard.”

The Hedge Guard was an outfit of soldiers comprised mostly of mercenaries, thugs, and even just self-taught fighters. As the war had continued to rage on through Gamerrah, Dawn’s Ledge grew desperate and needed more help. Gamerrah was full of many competent combatants from all walks of life, and so the capital city enlisted a group three thousand strong with the promise of riches beyond anything they knew.

“Ah yeah, the Hedge Guard. You did a lot in helping us through those times.” Flashes of violent memories ran through Fenrick’s mind. Empty, cold, and piercing pain washed through him.

“I was there when it happened.” Mamzo watched as Fenrick suddenly squatted down to look at nothing.

“When what happened?”

“The Order of the Shell.” Mamzo placed a hand on Fenrick’s shoulder. “I did what I could, but it wasn’t enough.”

“They sent us for slaughter. They should’ve sent even just one of the other Orders.” There was an old weight on Fenrick’s shoulders and Mamzo could see it was heavy on the old soldier.

“A foolish gamble. I’m sorry.” Mamzo retreated into long buried memories.

“Are these safe to eat?” Fenrick held out a handful of berries and Mamzo inspected them.

“Yeah.”

“Let’s get back, Bodwyn should be feeling better by now.” Fenrick and Mamzo made their way back to the camp.

“Feeling better yet?” Mamzo asked Bodwyn as they returned.

“Yeah, I do. Good to go?” Sharampf helped Bodwyn get back up.

“Here, have one of these.” Fenrick fetched something from a satchel on Tad’s shell.

“What is it?”

“Might help. Tastes feral though. Helped a lot of us back in the war.”

“Oh, I know what that is.” Mamzo shot Fenrick a smirk as they watched Bodwyn consume the thick, gloopy substance.

A rapid fire burst of emotion danced on Bodwyn’s face before it finally settles on a mix of horror and emptiness. His tongue dangled from his mouth.

“The numb tongue only lasts a few minutes. But you’ll feel about a hundred gold pieces in a moment.” Fenrick’s smile was the biggest anyone had seen on his face before. “Tad loves the stuff.” Fenrick gave Tad a pack of the stuff and the tortoise devoured the ‘treat’ inside.

“That wasn’t very nice,” said Sharampf.

“Why? It’ll help him feel better. I warned him of the bad taste.” Fenrick slapped Bodwyn on the shoulder. “All good there?”

“Its fine, really. I already feel way better. We should really get going.” Bodwyn’s words were difficult to understand.

“Don’t forget the fire,” said Fenrick.

“Oh yeah.” Bodwyn ran back to the fire. “I’ve got this.” He put his hands above the flames and a small amount of water gushed and extinguished the flames.