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Aralim 79

There was a little rodent on a bump in the road up ahead, a beige fox that quirked its disproportionately-sized ears in the direction of the travellers, watched for a moment, and then scurried into the tall grass. Aralim looked north, where the fields stretched down the slightest slope and toward the arid horizon. The clear blue sky let him see far. Copses of trees dotted the savanna in the nearest region, but then ceased. It was only to the south, at Aralim’s right shoulder, that the forests to which he had become so accustomed spanned.

“I’m troubled,” Devran confessed, his first words aside from logistic ones in days. He quickened his pace to reach Aralim’s right side. Continue reading Aralim 79

Farek 36

After a few days avoiding the roaming bandit groups with the assistance of the guide Farek had hired, the travellers crested another hill and, at last, they saw their destination. The House of Kiaraka was the toe of a large foothill, a two-storey manor surrounded by overgrown fortifications. The outer wall had collapsed in two or three spots, while moss and vines claimed the last remaining guard tower, a crooked pinnacle on the edge of the corner of the defenses. There were fewer visible damages to the abode, but its walls showed similar layers of greenery. Continue reading Farek 36

Arn 36

Echoes of wooden impacts and dull, metal clangs rose over the swamplands of Razaad. Arn had found a secluded spot to do his training, and he spent hours each day sparring with hands, spear, and sword. His opponents were rigged up trees with scale hide sacks crammed with reeds and leaves.

A drop of sweat slid into his eye, and Arn let his spear thrust veer off point. He jabbed it into the dirt and rubbed the back of his hand over his forehead. He panted. Taran had spoken bold words, even if they had not been threats. Arn would train himself to the bone to be ready. Continue reading Arn 36

Farek 35

Farek’s boots scuffed the old wooden threshold as he marched into the Ageless Academy for the third time. He had not knocked this time, but Torga stood up from his desk and smiled amicably. “Welcome back,” the administrator murmured, bowing his head. “Have you had any luck finding a token to trade with us?”

The disguised Prince Gallendris smirked irritably and put his left hand on the corner of the desk. Then, in a smooth movement, he raised the axe he had gained from the Emporium of the Bizarre and slammed it down on his own knuckles. Torga’s cry of shock echoed the room but the thud of the weapon did not. Nor did Farek screech. The crescent blade rested gently on top of his fingers, but the only sensation felt by his calloused skin was the cool tone of metal. Continue reading Farek 35

Aralim 78

The hubbub of quiet voices seemed to grow quieter after Aralim spoke. He had lain amidst the shambling cots and mismatched bedsheets of the abandoned wooden house, along with a hundred paupers and lost people, but now they were sharing an enormous pot of morning stew that a charitable nobleman had brought to the shelter.

The bowls, lifted to people’s lips or resting on old wooden boards-made-tabletops, paused at Aralim’s question. “What’s the biggest difference between the people like us and the rulers of Maga, aside from finances?” he has asked the man he was sitting with. Continue reading Aralim 78

Renado 32

They spent a few hours each day exploring the various districts of Ith. It seemed some regions of the metropolis remained untouched by the failed revolution and the Mage King’s onslaught. The enormous walls were not all as large as the first they had marched through, but the unseemly slabs of rock still dwarfed, in scale, any wall Renado had seen before.

In a way, after those eerie days among a city’s haunted populace with mythical overlords mere miles away, Ren could relate to the jittering paranoia of Darr, their peculiar guide. A few days after the scrapes and bruises earned in the cinders of Axar’s home had begun to heal, Darr took them into the dense streets of Pranan’s Hill. He showed Ren and his men the place where he had turned back, abandoning Lotha and her loyal followers to whatever fate awaited them. Continue reading Renado 32

Aralim 77

After a few days on the riverside, Captain Ruk’nor got their vessel underway once more. Many other rivercrafts had passed them, and some offered assistance, but after the initial removal of damaged wooden sections, the repeated varnishing of their replacements could not be expeditated. By the time they returned to rowing along the wide Toringa, they were soon sailing through a fleet of fishers, foragers, and other passenger vessels. They left the chaotic jungle behind and sailed between a forest of golden reeds and tall grass. The Eye of Maga came into sight soon after. Continue reading Aralim 77

Arn 35

Arn dragged the knife across the fleshy underside of a water scale hide. He had killed it himself, while hunting without the hunters. A few had applauded him as he walked back to the village, carrying the creature over his shoulders. As he cleaned its hide, he again considered Thalla’s conundrum. His normal breathing, when completing such a task, was uneven.

He always knew what to do, or did it without thinking. But today, Arn could barely focus. If he let Thalla leave the hunter’s band, he’d be left with the angst, the usurping, the doubting… he’d dealt with it for months before. Furthermore, it’d show precedent to the tribe that Thalla could demand things from him. It would make him look weak. But if he refused Thalla’s request, he would lose an ally and a friend. Likely, she would arrange a duel to lose, to be replaced on the band’s leadership anyway.

Arn scowled and jabbed the knife into the dirt beside the scales. She couldn’t even look him in the face any longer. Continue reading Arn 35

Farek 34

The city of Arunahn rested at the base of a hill in the Great Isle’s highlands, near the headlands of the Gleaming River. It was smaller than Soros, but larger than the towns and villages they had encountered on the Great Isle. Unlike the military vantages of castles in Oshibor and New Mallam, the Baron of Arunahn ruled from a simple tower in the heart of the city’s residential district. Continue reading Farek 34

Aralim 76

Ruk’nor’s crew had incredible endurance. For six or seven hours a day, with only a short break when the sun reached its zenith, the riverboat moved along the Toringa powered by the rowers. Oars splashed water more in the afternoon than in the morning, as the crew sometimes tired. This usually occurred when the river narrowed or was joined by another branch of its basin.

Aralim learned, a few days into their voyage, that the Toringa was the longest river on the continent, according to the captain and a few of the passengers. It not only connected the Eye of Maga to the Stormy Sea, but then ran for hundreds of miles to the west, toward Numa’nakres and the Yurna Mountains. He tried to imagine that the waters that flowed around their rowboat were the same waters that had rained on Rema. Continue reading Aralim 76