Chapter 7

A week passed. Many days and many nights of monitoring Haverian’s state. The book had reassured them that Haverian wouldn’t die, but he still needed treatment. Thalorian did what he could, healing his wounds whenever he was able to, getting him food. Even though Thalorian could heal him it didn’t mean all of Haverian's pain would go away. In the short periods when Haverian was conscious he was in excruciating pain, when he was asleep his muscles would tense up and he couldn’t move.

“He’s not getting better,” said Thalorian, moving away from him after healing another wound.

“That will change once we get to Rockshire, he can get actual medical treatment and not vomit every time he sits up,” Limiria responded. Without a word they continued on their way, they had made a system of carrying Haverian over their shoulders when traveling. Using scrap cloth and some vines they were able to make a sort of harness for him to lay in while traveling.

Rockshire is a small town near the Western Sea. At Rockshire you can take a month long boat ride to Valearen. Due to the powerful tides and strength of the sea, a place like Valearen, which is only fifty horizons away, is a difficult journey that requires much preparation. Rockshire was within a horizon of Limiria and Thalorian. Its tall gates were within their sight.

Walking inside, Rockshire, was much bigger than anywhere Thalorian had seen, excluding the Capital of course. Many shops lined the streets, each with its own story to tell. A tall mansion stood at the back of Rockshire, towering over, not just the houses, but the great wall surrounding it.

You could see the enormous dock, famed for being the only one to be able to survive the great tides of the Western Sea, from the entrance of Rockshire.

“Hello there, welcome to Rockshire ye strangers,” said a tall man with vibrant grey hair and a hint of happiness with everything he says.

“We're here to get to Valearen, that's all,” lied Thalorian.

Limiria and Thalorian were staying in a small inn by the hospital. They had paid fifteen Ceno for the treatment but they were assured that it would be worth it. They still had another day until Haverian's treatment was over and the farry returned in two more days so they had time to kill. Limiria was mostly scoping out the town for anything off, Thalorian had tried to convince her it was safe, she didn’t listen.

Thalorian was exploring many of the shops for weapons. Haverian would need something more his size and even though it was good Thalorians summoned sword took a toll on mana and only lasted for an hour before he needed to recast the spell.

“Can I help ya with anything?” asked a short man behind the counter.

“Just browsing,” said Thalorian.

There were many weapons on the wall, swords, axes. Most of them were overly expensive. One sword cost up to twenty Ceno and with their current funds that was too expensive. They had about fifty-one Ceno and an assortment of Leren and Zen. Ten Ceno were going to the Inn and about twenty for supplies so ten Ceno was too much for a sword.

“Do you have anything for five or under Ceno?” asked Thalorian.

“Let me check,” said the shopkeeper. A couple minutes later the man brought out a few weapons. Most already used or poorly made. Though a few stood out. There were three swords, one had a metal hilt with a long silver blade. Two red gems were in its hilt. One in the guard, the other in the pommel. The two other swords were similar, but they had their differences. One had a greenish tint to the hilt and had small ridges on the blade. The other had a deep black hue throughout the entire blade, looking at made Thalorians brain hurt. The pain was like a dagger through his skull. Slowly bleeding him dry. There was something wrong with it ,something demonic.

“How much for those two,” said Thalorian, pointing toward the two blades, that didn’t make his brian hurt.

“A total of six Ceno,” said the man.

“They look like good blades, why sell them for so cheap?” asked Thalorian.

“See the symbol where the blade connects to the hilt, that's the sign of opposition to power, I tried to scrub them off many times but they're engraved in the metal, can’t get it out,” replied the man, “So I sell ‘em for cheap.”

Thalorian tossed six Ceno onto the counter and took his blades and their sheathes. “Thanks,” said Thalorian.

“If you need anything else I’m happy to help, you can call me Yorsbek Smalts,” said Yorsbek. Thalorian waved goodbye.

The next few days were a blur. Haverian was discharged from the hospital the next day and they had a little less than two days for training. Thalorian gave Haverian his new sword, the green one; he’d taken the red one for himself.

The ferry would cost about seven Leren. Not much but for three people that would cost more than a Ceno. Currently they were flat broke, not a Ceno to their name.

“So how are we getting on this boat,” said Haverian, leaning against the wall. “Without any Ceno there's no chance of us getting on.”

“Actually there is,” said Limiria. “The Valearen Royal Family is taking the ferry back to Valearen, all we have to do is pretend to be one of the servants and boom, free ride.”

“So what, we dress up in a suit and pretend to be a butler or something,” said Thalorian.

“Well they always bring five servants wherever they go. At least two of them are bodyguards,” said Limiria. “So we just need to look like them.”

“Yeah but there's three of us and two of them,” said Haverian.

“Unless they just so happened to bring three bodyguards,” replied Limiria. “Do you really think I was just exploring Rockshire for threats, I was doing it for intel.”

“So what, we kill the bodyguards and, then what?” Haverian asked.

“Disguise magic, Thalorians book,” said Limiria.

“About that, uh, I’m shitty at disguise magic, I tried and I ended up making the leaf look like a monster, I was trying to make it a rabbit,” said Thalorian.

“Then you just try harder this time,” said Haverian, patting him on the back.

Little did that brave band know two kings would be marching past all that fell in the Land of Ash.