It was a quiet morning when Ryder awoke. The air was humid and the wood was damp. Beams of sunlight shone through the boards and onto Ryder’s pale face. The creatures of the morning were beginning to wake, but one of them was still snoring into their bag.

Gazing at the full room, Ryder could see the interior of the dugout more. Moss and cobwebs lined the wooden beams, the hardened soil floor protruded in the corner, and an odd shadow lay dormant underneath the table.

Ryder slowly rose in the hammock and looked down at the oaf with groggy eyes. Durge’s canvas bag was soaked with drool. Ryder looked precariously at the rope that held the hammock while swinging his legs off of it. As he sat in the hammock, he looked up and saw a sliver of blue from the sky. With a yawn and a stretch, he tried to stand up.

The attachment cord immediately ripped from the pillars and threw Ryder on the soil floor. He crashed with a soft thud, but his groans and laughter simultaneously startled Durge awake.

“What’d you do!?”

Ryder was laughing uncontrollably through the pain. “Your rotten hammock, that’s what.”

“Now you’re going to have to buy me a new one,” Durge groggily said.

“I knew that was going to happen,” Ryder said, rubbing his bruises and the tears from his eyes.

Durge sat up, stretched, and shook his head before stepping up the ladder and throwing open the trapdoor.

“Where are you going?” asked Ryder.

A response of “Piss,” was faintly heard from above.

Ryder sat up and threw the hammock netting off of himself. He chuckled more whenever he thought of the whole scenario.

He went up the ladder to relieve himself as well. Stepping onto the mushy grass, he could tell the journey to Maria would be an unpleasant one. Durge passed by Ryder on his way back into the hideout, “Our boots are going to be sogged.”

As Durge entered the dugout once again, he could see the total disarray. “Dammit Ryder,” he mumbled to himself. When he saw his slobbered bag, he also saw the shadow underneath the table. He gazed at it momentarily before his expression brightened and he hastily grabbed it.

It was a hefty rustic leather satchel. He now remembered that he had left it here many winters ago. Contained inside were 70 gold coins. He picked one of the coins and twisted it between his fingers.

The shimmering coin was vaguely circular. It had a portrait of a young man with short hair surrounded by engraved text that said “Emperor Pallingratz.” On the other side, it had a symbol of snow-capped mountains with the text “Minted 344. Ethereal Mountains.” And the motto “Common, we are all.”

Footsteps fell above the basement and Durge quickly put the coin back and hid the satchel behind himself.

Ryder came down the ladder and looked at Durge inquisitively. He was shuffling back and forth with a smirk and had his arms behind his back. Ryder looked for the odd shadow underneath the table but it was now missing.

“What do you have there?”

“Oh, nothing.” Durge chuckled.

Ryder remembered the strange protrusion that was under the floor and went to investigate. His eyes brightened when he revealed a leather sheath underneath the dirt.

“What do you have there!?” Durge exclaimed, now peering over.

“Oh, nothing,” Ryder mocked.

Ryder pulled out the sword and raised it in the air.

Durge had a bewildered look for a moment.

“What, you don’t remember burying a sword in your own hideout?” Ryder asked.

“I do now,” Durge said.

Durge revealed the satchel, and the glowing contents within, to Ryder before closing it.

“Let’s trade,” Ryder said.

“Trade? Bullshit. This is all of my stuff anyway.”

“You didn’t even remember you had any of it!”

“Well, I do now! It’s not like I could’ve walked around with a sack of pearls on me and a sword on my hip this whole time!”

“Fine,” Ryder tossed the sword to Durge. “Where’d you get all of this anyway? Thieving?”

“Eh, you’re not wrong. You remember Donwyn?”

“Oooh.”

“Yeah.”

Ryder looked at Durge’s pack that was on the floor.

“Let me have the satchel.”

“Fine, but I’m taking half the gold out for my own coin purse. You can carry the lantern too.”

With a satchel and lantern, and a sword and rucksack, it was time for the duo to depart. The air became muggy while the summer sun blazed in the late morning with no cloud cover.

After they exited the hideout and stepped onto the mush, they returned to the river by the tunnel they escaped through. Ryder lost his waterskin when sprinting towards the manor but Durge still had his and could refill.

“You better not put your lips on it, Rye."

“I’ll make sure to spit in it when you’re not looking.”

They had to go through mud, mosquitoes, shrubs, and fallen branches to exit the forest. Their boots were caked with mud and high steps were required.

Durge took a heavy step into the mud and when taking another, his boot did not follow him. Catching himself before taking a step into the mud with a bare foot, he tried putting his boot back on without falling.

“You should really pay attention to your footing, Durge.” Ryder chuckled.

“Just come over and let me use you to stable myself.”

Ryder walked directly behind Durge. Durge tried grabbing him but couldn’t turn while balancing on one leg.

“You mutt, quit playing me and just come over here!”

Ryder grabbed Durge’s lost boot, “I think I’ll just take this as my due for your hammock,” and walked ahead.

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“Mutt! Don’t think I won’t chase after you!” Durge said, hobbling on his one leg.

Ryder turned around with a sly smile, “Then who’s the mutt now?”

Durge put his bare foot in the mud and grimaced at its cold and clumpy texture. Ryder gasped and ran, prancing in the soil like a deer.

Durge chased him with a limp before taking off both of his boots and tackling Ryder to the ground. They wrestled, shoved, and smothered each other with the dirt before exhausted breath took hold and laughter ensued.

“Can I have my boot back?” Durge said.

Ryder was comically looking at the large leather boot, he put his nose in it and gagged upon impact. He started laughing again, its infection spreading to Durge who tried to snatch the boot out of his hands.

Ryder wrapped around and buried the boot deep in his abdomen until he felt something poke him.

“What the—” Ryder pulled a thin dagger from the boot's heel. It was silver and engraved were the letters “T.W.” on the wooden grip.

“Who’s T.W.?” Ryder asked.

“My uncle! Give it back!”

“Hey! Why do you get two blades? Give me one!”

Durge looked at the arming sword on his hip and back at the dagger in Ryder’s hand.

“Fine. Keep it,” he said with a huff.

Ryder joyfully gazed over his new blade.

“But don’t fucking lose it!”

They both sat up from the soil and brushed themselves off. Clumps of grass fell away but stained tunics remained.

With both boots now equipped, Durge led the way out of the suffocating forest and onto the road. It was a dull red, dusty, clay road. It was about three carriages wide and flanked by trees on both sides. The city-state of Maria was two days away. Rolling hills and sore muscles would be the least of their woes.

The midday sun shined upon the duo as they headed northward along the road.

Ryder looked behind. Locria wasn’t in view past the winding path but faint trails of black could be seen dissipating in the azure.

“One foot in front of the other, Rye. Remember your plan.”

“But we can go ba—”

“Don’t. There’s nothing there,” Durge said.

“But I didn’t even get to bury her,” Ryder’s face grew red and his throat felt like it was wrapped with thorns.

“You don’t need to. Either in a casket or not, she’ll be remembered, Rye. We can build a great monument for her and rebuild the entire county if you wish after we get to Harmony.”

Ryder sniffled and wiped his nose with his arm.

“Do you not miss anything there?” Ryder asked.

Durge stopped, “I do. But I’d rather leave it behind me. After I got stuck with that ranch and ran it dry, I thought about hopping on one of those ships in the harbor and sailing far away from here.”

“What stopped you?”

“Tsk. I remember I told your mother I wanted to leave and she said to me, ‘Take him with you if you do.’ But I couldn’t find a big enough boat, I suppose.”

“She didn’t actually say that.”

“She did. Right after she caught me stuffing my mouth in your pantry.” Durge laughed light-heartedly.

Ryder gave a slight chuckle, “I believe that part.”

They continued walking in the heat.

Durge held onto the shoulder straps of his bag, his sword swaying side to side.

Ryder was swinging the lantern to the rhythm of his walk while spinning the dagger in his hand.

“When was the last time you saw your uncle, Durge?”

“When he gave me that knife. I already sold the ranch and started being a hired hand on it again.”

“What’d he think of that?”

“Disappointed. Like everyone else at the time I suppose.”

“Oh come on, it was for the best.”

Durge crudely laughed, “For the best? I decided to drown in booze and become a slave on my own ranch. If I didn’t… I could have inherited a decent life.”

The wind picked up at the crest of a hill. The trees swayed. And their mud-stained clothes fluttered.

“What are you going to do now?” Ryder asked.

“Definitely not work in the fields again. Maybe work on a ship or I don’t know. I would like to work for myself and earn enough for a nice cottage to retire in.”

“Hm. I understand,” Ryder pondered for a moment.

“You?” Durge nodded to Ryder.

“I want to study.”

“Was being forced by your mother’s advisors not enough?”

Ryder shook his head. “Not like that. Something else. Where I can learn on my own and discuss findings with others and share experiences and…”

Ryder gave an exasperated sigh and looked to the heavens. A vision of warm candlelight, glossy wooden desks, and a skylight to the stars while being surrounded by the intelligent had washed over him.

Durge slapped the back of Ryder’s head.

“Studying what, daydreamer?”

Ryder rubbed the back of his head and gazed at the ground.

“Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Really? Fine,” Durge smiled in anticipation for whatever lunacy would spill out of Ryder’s mouth.

“Magic,” Ryder tensed for the beratement when the word escaped his lips.

An eternal silence passed before Durge responded with only a “Hm.”

“How would you start learning? Joining the Academy?”

Ryder had a curious look and had trouble muttering his answers.

“Well maybe? I figured I might pick up some books and maybe get to know mages and then see if I like it or not. But I wouldn’t want to actually join the Academy or something just yet. It’s a really big commit—”

“Ryder.”

“Yes?”

“You do realize that you weren’t born a mage, right?”

“Well, I know. But there’s plenty of scholars who can’t practice.”

“If you claim it. I didn’t know you were intrigued by magic so much,” Durge said.

“I wasn’t at first. But growing up and seeing all types of people at the harbor and then once Mom hired Merrigold, I really grew fond of sorcery and spellcasting.”

“I don’t think I ever met them.”

“They didn’t stay for long; they would seldom visit, but they would tell me stories about the origin of magic and all of their adventures at the Academy,” Ryder was silent for a moment. “I wonder if they’re okay.”

Wispy and thin clouds washed upon the bright blue. Ryder and Durge entered the woods at the side of the road to escape the summer sun and rest. Songbirds and cicadas echoed through the forests.

They passed the waterskin to one another and Durge shared one of the fruits, a lenk, that he had acquired at the manor. It was a small yellow citrus that revealed a pastel pink inside when torn apart. The taste had a sour burst but quickly subsided to a sweet and mellow flavor.

“We got one more lenk and this chunk of bread left,” Durge said.

He looked into his bag and peered over at the bread wrapped in cloth. A joyful grin spread across his face.

“You know what I’m going to miss?” Durge said.

“Hm?” Ryder said, sitting on the ground.

“Dragon Bakes.”

Ryder gave an exasperated sigh and fell on his back.

“Why'd you have to remind me of that place? The fresh pies, warm breads, sweet desserts, tangy tarts,” Ryder’s mouth salivated. “Oh and… your favorite server there,” Ryder smirked at Durge.

Durge shook his head, “Don’t.”

“Bessie!”

Durge put his face in his palms, “It was for the discounts, I swear!”

“Oh, I’m sure. Those lava-baked tarts weren’t the only thing that kept you company that winter.”

“Don’t remind me,” Durge said pitifully.

Durge and Ryder begrudgingly exited the shadow of the forest and into the afternoon light. A calm breeze blew through the lands, rustling the trees, and swaying the flowers. The land was desolate of any structures or persons. The only landmark in the area was a lonely mountain to the west that would soon shadow the area.

“What are we doing when we get to Maria?” Ryder asked.

“You tell me. You’ve the one that’s been there before,” Durge answered.

“If you call being dragged there fourteen winters ago to just sit at a table while Mom and Maria discussed taxes and tariffs as ‘been there’ then sure.”

“You think she’ll remember you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“You don’t remember of any inns or taverns we can go to?”

“Oaf.”

The pair walked until the evening wind danced through their clothes. Sweat drenched Ryder and Durge as their backs lay hunched over.

They decided to stop for the day and rest for the night.

With beaten breaths, they sat on the ground. Durge leaned against his pack. Ryder poured the water over his pale face and short auburn hair.

“Hey!” Durge exclaimed. “Don’t waste it all now!”

Ryder tossed the waterskin to Durge.

“Drink the rest,” Ryder said, wiping his dirtied face and licking his lips.

“We should only have one more day ahead of us,” he said.

“With no water,” Durge tipped the skin upside down and tossed it aside.

The moon began to wax, but starlight illuminated the night. A painter’s palette of twinkling stars spread across the heavens. Bright clusters of blue, red, white, and yellow scattered along the clear night.

Durge opened his pack for a snack but exclaimed aggravations instead.

“And no food!”

“You ate it all, oaf, ” Ryder said, fidgeting with his sapphire necklace, “You ever think—”

A deep scrape came from the forest as if a knife had slashed against a tree.

Both of them perked up immediately and stared into the dark forest. But only fireflies and swaying foliage could be seen in the dark.

Durge held a tight grip on his sword. “It was probably just a deer,” he said.

“Or a bear,” Ryder said.

“Or a goblin!” Durge said in a mocking tone. “Let’s just go to sleep and get this over with,” he said, nustling into his rucksack.

Ryder kept an eye on the forest but lied down with his dagger in hand.

He lost thought while peering into the abyss. After some time the silhouettes of the trees blurred and all he could see was his mother’s corpse. Lifeless and pale as it lay on the foyer steps. The blue carpet that turned maroon and pooled behind her seeped into his mind.

He could still feel her warm hands that pressed against his cheeks and her voice that rang in his ears. He set the dagger to his side and held the sapphire necklace close to his face and silently wept into his arms.

Durge rested peacefully in the underbrush, snoring rhythmically.

Ryder was half-asleep but noticed more sounds besides the swaying and rustling of trees. Dull voices echoed from up the road.

Ryder softly opened his eyes, only to be met with ones staring back at him while a crossbow aimed at his forehead.