The Mourner

We made another four miles south along the Gale River until we made camp midday, and rested through the evening and night. Rather, Fen put up a tent while Moxi watched her, doing as much as she could to help as little as possible. Even I flew about, trying to use the whole weight of my body to hold up a stake here or there, but this sort of manual work was not meant for me either. What should have taken a handful of minutes turned into the whole of the sunset. Then, each time Fen made a spark where our campfire should be, the westward winds blew it out like a candle. The little twigs and tinder lost their life at once, and she finally threw both the little sticks she’d been using into the river before darting off to find two more. Moxi whined about how the world must have hated us. But, she glanced sharply toward Fen as she did.

Fen yelled back about how she didn’t want to make a fire in the first place. Fires were just for cooking things except in the winter when they were needed to keep warm. But, it wasn’t winter yet, and it wasn’t even that cold out. So, making a fire could have only been used to scare away animals. Fen stopped herself at that point, and focused all so much more on making a fire because, as she said, it was actually quite important to keep the animals away. Who really knew what sorts of things were out here, especially at night. And, those kinds of things could smell us, for sure, even if we were hidden away in some tent. But, fire, fire scared all monsters away, and everyone knew that.

By the time it was finally set, we all found ourselves together in the tent, and lying down to rest for the night. Fen had suggested people taking watch, but Moxi asserted that if anyone woke her up to take some watch, she’d go right back to sleep. It was settled, there’d be no watch, and I doubted one was much needed either. This was the south road along the Gale River, and all sorts of nobody came this way at all. There were the merchants going between Tinborough and the other cities, many all the way south to the capital. But, they slept at night, and even if they did spot us, we were just more travelers and they would pass us by.

We woke up one by one in the morning, ate breakfast, and continued south till we slept. This was the come and go of another week, as the Gale River twisted west away from the road, and eventually was completely behind us. Now we passed low grasses, no taller than me. There were still patches of high grass off in the distance, but they were sparse and random. Occasionally we’d have to stop for a sheep or some other cattle to cross the trail, and Moxi had to be held back from trying to pet one. She was certain it would be friendly to her, but Fen insisted it may bite, and it may have rabies, and if Moxi got rabies then surely so would both Fen and I as well.

When we turned, we could still barely see the Twotwine Mountain Range in the north, barely white silhouettes on the very horizon, long-dagger clouds bellowing up through the blue sky and between them, the outline of Mount Addor was a beacon. It was the tallest. There was another line of mountains south, and more west by the ocean. Both became more pronounced as we went further from home. And, for the first time, a week since we’d left, they were more easily seen than the Twotwine Range. These were grander than the Twotwines, and even than Mount Addor herself. Where the northern hills were gray and rocky, my gaze first noticed the lines of red, autumn leaves spiraling up the side of a great mountain to the south, and they were all shades of green and gold and orange. I could see from here how the foothills were covered in thickets and woodlands less domestic than the Gale Parks. The twisting line of the road, no wider than a hair in the distance, drove through the heart of the foothills, and I thought I could see it climbing the side of the great, red-leaved mountain. There it was, this path between the crimson trees, with clouds obscuring its belly below it. It looked back at me, and I imagined myself up there looking down at this exact place in the valley. It was no more than another week, maybe two away at the pace we were going.

In all the emptiness of the road, we came finally upon a series of log cabins. A sign between the buildings and the road read Welcome to Valleyville. The cabins were all dark, and there was not a soul on the roads. We came around the back side of the town, where we found a collapsed fence, and behind it a series of withered, stone graves. The writing had faded, and the rock itself had black mold along its sides, and long cracks throughout it. Between the headstones was a fellow who stood a little taller than Fen. Long green-and-blue, sparkling feathers spread out along his back, and vibrant tail, and his two glistening wings expanded as he turned to see us. A katana was sheathed at his side, and his long beak hung closed. He had a boyish voice that cracked either high or deep as he spoke, “What brings you about these parts?”

“My map showed a town along this way,” Moxi pointed at one of the cabins, “we thought we could rest here for the night, a bit more comfortable than our tent.”

The peacock-boy whistled through his beak, “Suppose nobody will stop you. I came here to honor my second cousin’s passing. Found the place abandoned three nights ago.” He looked down at the dirt around one of the graves, “None of these have been touched in weeks, maybe months. No travelers have come through since I’ve been here.” As he’d said it, I hadn’t encountered any of the merchants I thought we should have, as we traveled such a popular route.

“They were north of here not long before we left. Some two weeks back, I saw one. Who are you?” I asked him.

“My name is Afos. It means honor in the world my father was born in, and it was also the name of a god of war. I hail from deep in the Deserts between Last Oasis and the Lowpasture. My people have wandered there since the times before a hundred worlds were born.”

“You found this place abandoned,” Moxi looked around, “so what keeps you here?”

“A soldier does not walk into a ghost town, and leave without knowing its people are safe,” he squawked, “or otherwise. You carry yourself like a princess, my lady, you should know this as well as I.”

“A countess,” Moxi curtseyed, “and I was only being sure of your intentions, not questioning your honor.”

Afos pressed his wing to his cheek in some sort of salute, then marched to the edge of the broken fence, “If you will help me to find the people of this town, my sword will be yours in your onward journey, wherever that may take you.”

Fen followed after him, “Y-you’re also a soldier? Well it would be… best… I think to have you!”

“I know the Toads,” he clicked his beak together, “talented rangers, but too easily bought. Honor doesn’t see coin. I learned that in my last life. Be that as it may, you keep this noble in good hands. And, her familiar.”

“Pardon, but that I am not.” I answered, “Lady Moxi is my companion, as is Miss Fen. We are all traveling south to our own ends in the Sapphire Capital.”

Afos tilted his head down, “I seldom misjudge people. Forgive me. Fairies were held in very high regard in the world I came from as the familiars and pets of only the highest nobility. You are honorable not to claim higher status than you have.”

“There were none in my world. I was human in my last life.”

“I was a goblin,” Afos said sharply, “the gods there punished me from my birth for the crimes I would commit in that life.” He spread out his vibrant tail feathers, the light of the evening sun flashing across them and sparkling green, blue, and violet against the ground, “Now, the gods of this world rebirthed me in a form to reflect my newfound honor.”

Fen’s tail flicked behind her, “There were many goblins where we all grew up. Many of my childhood friends were, and they were always generous and sweet.”

“This place is different,” sighed the peacock, “I must someday see this place you speak of where goblins are kind.” His eyes wandered up the road to the north, and must have stopped somewhere near the faint silhouette of Mount Addor on the distant horizon. Afos’ gaze lingered there a moment, and the sunset shone in his eyes. “I must see it.”