“Cain, I think you should visit the capital.”
Cain looked up at his host. They were having dinner again - breakfast for Bron, he supposed. There were still quite a few things leftover from Miss Corbin’s package.
“Trying to get rid of me that quickly?” grinned Cain in response.
Bron’s reply gave Cain the impression that he had been thinking about this seriously for a while now.
“Of course not! You’ve been great company.”
Bron ate a few more slices of smoked ham and washed it down with a cup of goat’s milk.
“You said you woke up in a cave on the mountain with nothing but the clothes on your back, right?”
“Yeah, can’t remember anything from before that either.”
A half-truth. He really couldn’t remember his personal history, but he knew enough to know that he didn’t belong here. All it took was a glance out the window to confirm that.
Three great circles illuminating the night sky. There was only one moon back home.
“I’ve been thinking,” said Bron as he looked over at Cain once more. “The clothing you wear is completely different from what we wear around here, you’re skilled with the bow to a shocking extent, and your eyes... You’re clearly not from these parts.”
Cain gulped. Where was this going?
“A city mage might be able to help you,” said Bron, looking seriously into his eyes. “I know they research weird magics in the cities. Maybe they can fix your memory? Or if not, somebody out there would know something about your clothes or eyes. There are a lot of travellers out there - I’ve heard from folks that Greater Goethia lies in the center of the trade routes from west to east.”
Bron leaned back.
“The roads can be dangerous, which is why I didn’t bring it up before. I was thinking of escorting you myself but the night watchman job means I have to stick around. Then you showed off your archery...”
Cain thought about it.
It was... a good idea.
There was really nothing to gain from sticking around Corbin Village, was there? For some reason, this thought made him a little sad. Cain frowned.
Bron read his face, and knew.
“Keep the bow. I’ll get some more arrows for you from Rey; at the very least make sure you have a full quiver when you go. He won’t mind.”
Cain attempted to protest, but he knew he wasn’t going to be winning this battle. After a few futile attempts to ward off his host’s generosity, he finally managed to ask the question he’d been nursing in the back of his mind since he met him.
“Bron. Why are you so good to me?”
Bron smiled.
“I know what it’s like to be lost and confused.”
Cain started. He wasn’t - was he?
Was Bron right?
Cold gripped him - a cold that the warmth of Bron’s home could not wash away despite the gentle weather. The darkness that it felt like he had spent years walking through, the mountain top view that he couldn’t recognize at all. Black eyes, alien to him despite sitting upon his own face. The changes to his body from what he assumed he was used to.
“Sometimes, all you need is somebody to offer you some food,” said Bron.
Cain looked at his hands. The trembling that he hadn’t even noticed had stopped. Then he remembered the pouch of coins that the village elder had given him in return for the blue lizards.
“At least let me give you--”
Bron raised a hand, rejecting the money outright without even seeing it. Then he brought both hands together to form the shape of a circle. Cain wasn’t religious - he wasn’t, right? - but he recognized the motion in front of him as a prayer.
“I praise Deus, Prime Divinity. First of the 27. Deus Lightbringer raises the sun, Deus Scalekeeper ensures justice, and Deus Hearthlighter warms and welcomes.”
Bron thought back to the worship room, the statue of Deus, and the little girl that had brought him a terrible-tasting meat pie.
“We’ve shared a table and broken bread together. That makes you my guest, and my brother. For as long as you stay here, what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine.”
Bron finished what seemed to be a prayer, and Cain smiled while admitting defeat.
They had a wonderfully pleasant dinner, and then it was time for Bron to do his job.
[MERDASA - Road Heading North]
A sudden gust of wind struck the trail, sending dust and debris flying everywhere. If somebody had been watching, it would’ve taken them a second to recover from the shock and notice that it wasn’t just a gust of wind, but rather a half-orc woman skimming across the ground.
Muse’s mantle flew up around her, as Webby helped channel essence from the land. Her steps were light - in one stride she moved tens of meters. The Blessing of the Windmother, although she did wonder why the Divinity insisted that the ball and heel of the foot needed to be left open.
The young man, Jaime, had been forthcoming in his information, and so Muse Aberra had learned of Cain Thompson. Strange name, she thought, but everything about him and his eyes had matched up to the Grandmaster’s expectations.
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He had said that verifying the information would be a bonus, and not necessary. But that wasn’t good enough for her. The moment she had finished asking...
Webby shot her a look, as though he knew what she was thinking.
...interrogating Jaime, she had gone to the Iron Bar branch to send out a hawk containing the information she had obtained. Then, once she made sure she had enough supplies in her pack, set out at once.
It was rather late in the day. Travellers tended to avoid wandering the roads after sunset, fearing attacks by bandits or monsters in the dark. Or the possibility of injuring their horses or damaging their wagons on the road. That wasn’t a problem for her.
What bandit or monster could catch her? She’d be able to get to Corbin Village a few hours after dark. A speed that few others in all of Goethia could match.
She remembered the Grandmaster’s warning about the black eyes, and unconsciously her hand went to her hip where her saber lay, sheathed.
Muse really hoped she wouldn’t have to use it.
[CORBIN VILLAGE]
To be honest, Bron didn’t know Jord very well.
What he knew of the man was that he belonged to one of the wealthier households in the village - one with trader connections to Merdasa. As a result, he was raised with a rather high opinion of his family and self, something that his parents didn’t care to keep in check.
Even though they had grown up in the same village together the other man tended to be rather taciturn and somewhat dismissive.
Not qualities that Bron himself liked in people, but if they couldn’t be friends, they could at least be civil coworkers. So when he had asked Jord about his facial wound, he was being serious. He had some medical herbs and ointments in his pouch if the other man needed them.
Instead of accepting his offer, Jord had scampered away. He seemed even more terrified than usual.
Bron shook his head. That was fine. He was at least going to his patrol location, so it seemed like things would go on like usual. Abigail would take the east, Jord would take the west, and he would take the center of the village. Then they would rotate every two hours until the sun came up, and that would be the end of the nightwatch.
But there was something strange in the air tonight, he felt, sniffing the air. An unseasonable chill despite the flowers blooming. No warmth in the air tonight.
He shook his head. It was time to start work.
[CORBIN VILLAGE]
Cain loosed another arrow, and it struck exactly where he expected it to go. Ten out of ten times, he had hit the exact same spot on the tree. The same hole made by the previous arrow after he had retrieved it.
He had been experimenting with the limits of his ability.
As far as he could tell, if he remained stationary his aim was perfect. The arrow went exactly where his mind’s eye reticle targeted, as long as he shot from a distance of less than fifty meters. There wasn’t much of an opportunity to try any further since he was still in Bron’s backyard, but it was enough.
His next attempt had been shooting while running. It was a little less accurate but still effective. The arrows struck their location, but unlike the arrows he fired while still there was a slight spread.
Fair. He remembered the games he played in the past. Moving while shooting was never quite as accurate as staying still.
The wind started to blow harder, and Cain looked up. This was the chance he had been waiting for. He notched another arrow, turned to the furthest tree that he could see clearly, and shot.
The arrow once again landed where he had aimed.
He knew it.
The arrow had ignored the headwind.
He felt faint.
The other things... They could’ve been written off. No hunger, no thirst, no sleep. These were all things that could be attributed to something going on with him - a disease, body modification, or whatever. The status bar? Maybe he had gone crazy and was seeing things.
But an arrow that ignored the wind?
Did that mean... Did that mean he had warped physics?
He sat down, putting the bow on the ground. There was a slight tremble in his hands again. He ran them through his hair, hoping that slight activity would calm them down.
Whatever was happening with him was wrong.
He knew it, he had known it the whole time but was trying to deny it.
Human bodies ran on energy. Without energy stored, it couldn’t work. That’s why hunger and thirst existed, to make sure that the things you used up were constantly renewed. Muscle needed time to repair itself, the brain needed time to renew itself. That’s what soreness and sleeping were.
He didn’t need any of these things?
Was he even still human?
Then, before he could truly start panicking, a deep boom reverberated through the ground. A great horn blew from the east, accompanied by terrified screaming that originated from - wasn’t that where the main village gate was?
“BANDITS ARE HERE!”
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