Whispers over a Crackling Campfire

“Ha!.. I found her.”

    Leaning over the black rocks, Timoria retrieves Awa from the back of a goat-like creature wandering through the mountains.

“I can’t believe it…” She frowns anxiously. “How did she manage to get there?”

    It’s been hours since we left Makhlubi, hiking through the sharp edges around Ard Ramalia. Despite that she had seemed tense when Kitsune announced her she would leave with us, Timoria didn’t protest to follow us in our quest. At dawn, she had joined us, carrying no belongings. Not that she truly had anything of value.

“Well… Awa has grown a bit over the past weeks, but it only made her more turbulent.” I note, tilting my head to the side. “You can’t imagine how many times she disappeared from my field of vision only to reappear at… unexpected places. One time she even got barely stamped on by a customer.”

“Heeh?..”

    As Timoria returns to our sides, we resume hiking. Soon, we’ll reach the lands beyond the mountains, heading to our next destination.

“She can sleep pretty much anywhere. That thing has no survival instinct.” I shrug. “But it’s okay, in the end she didn’t get flattened. It’s the customer who ended up falling straight to the floor.”

“You have a bad influence over her.” Tyffeon chimes in.

“Haah?!” I place my hand against my chest, outraged. “Me? A bad influence?”

    He simply averts his gaze, ignoring me.

    Rude.

    Not saying anything, Timoria observes us with curiosity. As I notice her and turn my gaze at her, she seems embarrassed.

“Are you sure you want to come with us?” I end up asking. “We’re not so far, you can still return to Makhlubi and pretend Tyffeon kicked you out of the party because of your indecent beauty.”

“What.” He grumbles.

“Indecent beauty?” She repeats, blushing. “I-I wouldn’t do such a thing.” Timoria lowers her gaze, holding Awa tight in her arms as if she were a stuffed toy. “After what I’ve done, I can’t pretend to have my place there any more.”

    For a moment, I observe her attentively, not uttering a word. She may not have been close to Mira, but she liked her. And after what happened during the fight,.. I guess she couldn’t forgive herself.

    In the original game, there was no turning back. Once tainted, an emissary ended up dying after being defeated. At least, it avoided her having to live with the weight of her sins. But there it is. She survived. And, instead of gaining a rare drop item for having killed the boss, we got her.

“Yosh! I promote you to Awa’s babysitter.”

“Heeeeeeeeeehh?!”

***

    Even following the shortest path leading to Gnog Fontalamh, the Knockers’ kingdom, we have several days of travel ahead of us.

    As we set up camp on our third night outside, Timoria is the first one to fall asleep. We barely have finished our dinner – a decent one, should I say, thanks to the food that we brought from Makhlubi – that she curled onto herself.

    The flames crackling, bringing some heartwarming sounds to the otherwise silent night, I stare at the stars.

    Somehow, I realise that I enjoy these simple days spent travelling. Somewhere between the place we left and the one we’re heading for, somewhere where no expectations weigh upon our shoulders. Just the thrill of the adventures still ahead of us. An enchanted parenthesis where the only thing we need to do is to keep stepping forward, wondering what may await us the moment we arrive.

    And, as frightening as it is, I am glad that Tyffeon and Timoria are there. If they weren’t, if I had to spend this time alone, I know my thoughts would circle around Mira. The wound she left behind.

“This world needs you, stay alive.”

    Her genuine smile, carved into my mind.

“She sure fell asleep fast.” Tyffeon comments, sitting down next to me.

“Well, ‘guess she needed it. She had difficulties adjusting to our sleep schedule.”

“Strangely, it hasn’t been your case. Even though you shared their pace of life for some time.” He notes, raising an eyebrow.

    To which I reply with a smug smile I turn at him.

“I am very good at pulling all-nighters.”

“That’s not something you should be proud about.”

“But I am. How do you think I met my deadlines in my world whenever I needed to finish a game scenario?”

“A game scenario?…”

    I cough. Maybe it isn’t that wise to bring up this subject. I’d rather avoid making some unfortunate misstep and revealing more than I should.

“By the way, Tyffeon, there’s one question I am quite curious to ask you.”

    Surprisingly so, at my innocent words he leans back ever-so-slightly. Utter suspicion etched upon his features.

“Which is?”

“Oh, there, there, don’t get so coy.” I tease, fighting the urge to let my smile broaden. “You remember the first night following our arrival in Makhlubi, right? Back then, Somnuma forced me to follow her. But… and you?” I mid-close my eyes, leaning closer. “What did you do that night?”

    At my move, he presses his index against my forehead, pushing me back.

“This question sounds filthy in your mouth.”

“Huhh?! Hey!” I scream in a whisper. “I saw two beautiful Beastwomen drag you away. Don’t tell me that you did nothing perverse with them.”

    The rage I distinguish soon in his eyes is of a rare intensity I’ve never encountered prior to that. I can almost see the scene he envisions. A crime scene where he is the murderer and I the murdered, choking under his dear elven grasp.

“I mean-”

“I did not let them touch me.” Tyffeon replies dryly. Then sighs. “I warned them that I would cause a ruckus among their customers if they couldn’t assure me that…”

    Warn is probably an inaccurate term to use here, and I would rather suggest him to consider threaten instead, but I digress.

“That?” I press since the silence stretches.

“Never mind.”

“Finish what you begin. Just tell me, coward.”

    He averts his gaze.

“So you want me to trust you, but you keep keeping secrets?”

“Ughh… fine. Just don’t get the wrong idea. They assured me that they wouldn’t force you into the arms of any man. Though I required Somnuma to assure it herself.”

“Heeeeeeh.” I reach out to poke at his cheek. “So you were really worried.”

    A sigh.

“Tssk.” He chases my hand away. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you. Anyway, case being that I didn’t do anything that would satisfy your corrupted imagination since I needed to rest. The following day I simply helped the Beastmen. They allowed me to work in the orchard with them.”

    Well, I guess he indeed needed a way to find that money he gave Somnuma to see me, since she wouldn’t have allowed him otherwise. She sure has business acumen.

“Disappointing, indeed.”

    Despite my words, I smile, kind of reassured.

    For a while, we stay like this, observing either the stars or the dancing flames.

“Amako?”

“Yes?”

“You really don’t mind that Timoria accompanies us?”

    If I am not surprised he considered that question, the fact he actually asks it surprises me enough to stare at him.

“After what happened to Mira…” He trails off.

    I can’t help but feel my heart sink at this name.

“Well, it wasn’t truly her who attacked Mira. It was the emissary.”

“She herself committed other crimes, though.”

“It’s true, she did. But… how many creatures do you think there are, truly clean of any sin? Are we doomed to be defined only by our misdeeds? Isn’t it too easy to paint us black? None of us is sinless.” I sigh, trying to swallow my bitterness. “I don’t want to be part of those who condemn to feel better about themselves. Who point at what they are taught to find dirty. Besides…”

“Besides?”

“…A part of me keeps hoping that Mira survived.”

“Didn’t you say that you saw her fall into the mist’s sea?”

“I know… this is foolish…”

    Reminding myself that I’m not supposed to darken the mood, I don’t add anything else and wrap instead my arms around my legs. People tend to abandon more quickly the ones who tend to dampen their humour.

    I expected Tyffeon to not interact but, to my surprise, he reaches out his hand and leans it against my shoulder.

    For a while, none of us say anything. A shared moment of peace under the stars.

“Kitsune may have pretended she forced Timoria to leave her kingdom as a punishment…” I finally add. “But, deep down, she knew it would have just made her suffer to stay. She wanted to give her a chance. A chance to accomplish something she may be proud about. So she can forgive herself.”

    A thought crosses my mind later that night. If we end up defeating all of the emissaries and the Rotten Lord, then our journey will end. The game will be cleared. What will happen? Even if, just if Tyffeon doesn’t betray me by that time… Our party will have no more reason to remain, it will be dissolved. The journey will end.

    What would happen to me then… What will I have left in this world?

***

    The black mountains circling Ard Ramalia haven’t been the only ones on our path, the relief growing bumpier as we reach the kingdom of the Knockers.

    At least, apart from some rocks erupting from the ground here and there like needles abandoned by a giant, it is more comfortable to walk on the ground covered with a mix of green-yellow to brownish weeds.

    On our way, I tried more than once to summon thunderbolts, as I did facing the emissary of the Taint. But, if I am now able to call for the rain upon the whole land around me, I still can’t reproduce the lightning. Multiple tries allowed me to assess that the rain should indeed reverse any status alterations. The physical damages remained, though. A shame it couldn’t heal.

    As if in protest of my many attempts, grey clouds now cover the sky as far as the eye can see.

“There we are.”

    Slowing down, I stop as we reach the edge of what appears to be a huge crater. Tracing a large circle in the land, the ground sags until reaching a dark rift leading to the depths. The edges of the crater are organised into multiple levels, doors carved along the rocky walls. There’s enough space to let pass carriages charged with crafted minerals and metals clinking all the way, departing for the other kingdoms.

    Next to my side, Timoria gazes in awe at the rift beyond, holding a sleepy owl in her arms.

“We finally reached Toll Dubh…” Tyffeon notes, thoughtful.

    Even from here, we can hear the echoes of the hammers, of the picks knocking in rhythm beneath our feet.