Vanishing trails

The inn was dimly lit, filled with the tired whispers of men who worked the mines and women carrying pitchers of ale after working around their homes all day. The four sat around the rough wooden table in the corner, their bowls scraped clean and their bread now already only crumbs left on the plate. Hibiki leaned back on his chair without a care in the world, legs stretched, still chewing on a piece of crust like the warm meal would never be good enough. Alice stared at the door, her hands clasped tight in her lap, silently. Ren was staring at the picked-clean bowl. He stared at the spoon covered in stained remains of stew, but his mind was elsewhere, back on the forest road, on the man whose skull had shattered beneath his fist. Miyako sat upright as always, her knife back in its sheath, her eyes distant, scanning every face in the room as if daring them to approach.

The door opened, letting in a breeze from the night, and both the guard and the white-robed woman stepped inside. Their presence shifted the inn as if the outfits were more important than the four could ever know. A few villagers' faces dropped at the sight of the guard’s blood-stained armour, but no one spoke. They walked straight to their table, with heavy boots on the wooden floor, and sat down without asking. The guard rubbed at his arm with a faint grimace before waving to the innkeeper for a mug. The woman placed her stack of papers next to her on the bench and rested her hands on the table, her eyes moving across the group and ending on Alice.

“You did well today, for a bunch of greenhorns,” the guard said sullenly. His voice was still rough but there was definitely a softness to it that wasn't there before. “Most new mercs would’ve fled at the first arrow. You didn’t.” Hibiki scoffed while picking at his teeth. “Didn’t feel like we had much choice. What were they even after?” The guard allowed a small smirk. “Probably slaves or hostages; it’s always the same sort of thing with those types but that doesn’t matter any more. You survived…” The woman leaned forward slightly, her kind eyes still on Alice. “You did what needed to be done to protect yourself and your friends. Don’t let the fear tell you otherwise.” “You didn’t lose control beyond a simple bit of fear. If you want to be able to use and control magic, you'll need to keep that fear at bay, however.” Alice looked away, mumbling under her breath that no one could hear. Ren narrowed his eyes. “You keep talking about magic like it’s something we’re supposed to know about or see. But we don’t. Not really.”

The woman folded her hands neatly and spoke with a patient tone that seemed to be common for her. “Then I’ll tell you what you need to know. This should be well known to anyone trained properly but ‘magic’ is nothing more than the threads of the world tugged and woven by will. Each person has a knot inside them — some tighter, some looser. You reach for it, and if you’re strong enough, the threads bend.” She gestured faintly with her fingers, as if pulling an invisible string down through the air. “But there is a cost, especially without training, always. Some tire after a single use. Some bleed. Others burn. The crown trains mages to control the price, to turn it into strength instead of ruin. That is the difference between raw power and discipline. After time that cost becomes less and less frequent.”

Miyako’s expression tightened. “But you said our threads aren’t normal? What if they’re… wrong?” The woman paused in anxiety for the first time. “Then you be careful to make sure that they don’t snap. I’ve never seen someone recover from that in my life.” She gave the faintest smile after, but it felt insincere. “The threads around the four of you unsettle me, as if there’s more than one knot, but that should be impossible. There’s tangles and fraying in the threads…but—but they don’t seem damaged.” Ren’s stomach turned, but he didn’t answer.

He could feel Hibiki shifting on the bench next to him, Alice staring harder at the floor, and Miyako gripping the hilt of her knife once more under the table. The guard broke the silence by slamming his mug on the wood. “Enough. They’re alive, aren’t they? That’s all we can ask, isn’t it? We paid for their services and they more than delivered. Talk of snapping threads won’t help them sleep tonight.” The woman gave him a quick look in annoyance before relenting. “Of course.”

None of them could speak much after that; their minds were too full. They finished their drinks in silence, then made their way upstairs. The rooms were cramped and dusty, but the beds were soft and the room was somehow slightly better than the ones in the city. It didn't take long for Hibiki to fall asleep. Ren lay awake longer, listening to Alice’s whimpered breathing across the room, tears clearly ready to stream at any point. When sleep finally hit him, it was heavy and restless.

Morning came with the rustling of carts and produce from the square. The smell of breakfast and smoke carried through the draughty gaps in doorframes and windows. Miners' voices rose as they walked past the building, their tools scraping across the ground. It wasn't long before the four had got themselves ready and headed downstairs; bowls of broth and hard bread waited for them. They ate quietly, the noise of the inn around them too quiet to matter. The guard joined them only to snap at them, while wiping his eyes from sleep, “Finish up. We’re leaving.”

The cart was ready in the square, the horses restless. The guard went ahead of them, clambering forwards onto the driver's bench, gesturing sharply at Hibiki. “Up, boy, it’s time to learn.” Hibiki looked between the group before groaning and rubbing his eyes but climbed onto the driver’s bench anyway. The guard pressed the reins into his grip again, hurling instructions his way. “Slow hands. Left, right, gentle. Don’t fight them; just guide them forward. Feel where they want to go, then remind them who’s holding the straps.” Hibiki muttered at him, “Easy for you to say,” but did as he was told. The cart crept forward steadily, the horses snorting and grunting as they walked. The guard was sitting beside him with keen eyes and a small shield, clearly not keen on letting the same fate befall the young boy as befell the driver.

The road back was kinder than the road in. The forest was quiet but didn't share any of the tension from the day before, the air calm, with no sign of bandits or trouble. They spoke to each other at times but the weight of the previous night’s topic remained, with only the woman occasionally commenting on the journey or scribbling notes on a piece of paper in her stack. Alice sat near her again, silently watching, studying every motion of her hands when she pointed out small things about the journeys or revealed more hints about magic. By the time the sky became tinted with orange, Lerenic village came into sight with lanterns burning in the distance faintly and smoke rising high from chimneys. Hibiki straightened and pumped the air with his fist, declaring, “Woo! See? I did it!. Natural driver, me.” The guard only let out a small grunt, but his short smile showed his amusement.

The cart rolled into the square, villagers moving their heads to the sound of Hibiki’s loud voice but not paying it much mind. The guard gripped the reins from Hibiki's hand and pulled to slow the horses. “This is where we part ways. Take your stamped papers to the Concordium when you’re ready. You’ll get your pay.” He gave them a long look and let out another weak smile. “The name’s Segrun, just so you know. Remember what I’ve taught you.” The woman smiled and bowed kindly as the last of the four hopped into the mud in the square, taking the place of Hibiki next to Segrun shortly after. Her white robes were now covered in dirt at the bottom. She glanced back once, her eyes meeting Alice’s, then the cart continued until it disappeared down the road. Ren stretched his arms high into the air and looked to the others. Hibiki was already muttering about how he deserved a drink and food. Miyako’s eyes scanned the area for threats. After a while she tilted her head toward’s the tavern. “We’ll check for Darius. He said he’d be around here. If he’s not, we’ll have to move on.”

The four entered the tavern, with the familiar smell of ale and old wood hitting their noses. conversation. They slipped inside, brushing mud from their boots across from the door, and found a spot near the back of the bar out of view. Hibiki flagged down the barkeep, leaning across the counter just enough to be heard over the noise. “We’re looking for Darius. Have you seen him?”

The barkeep shook his head without hesitation, still wiping the rim of a mug, occasionally checking it for more stains. “Not in two days. Left no word either. Strange for a man like him with ale running through his blood.” Ren sighed. “Two days doesn’t seem too bad; surely it’s not that strange?” He shrugged, setting the mug down with a thud and throwing his cloth across his shoulder. “He doesn’t just vanish. You can normally hear him before you see him.

I’ve not seen or heard from him. Ren turned back to the others. Hibiki was muttering to himself, “Great. Just great.” Miyako’s eyes narrowed, sharp as usual. “If no one’s seen him in two days, then he’s either hiding, or something’s already happened to him.” No one could reply to her and they felt a panic wash over them until Ren finally stood. “We’ll head back. We’ve got what we came for.”

The walk to the city gates was longer than it felt. When they reached the walls of Leren, no one stopped them. The stamped papers the staff had given them were perfect, many times better than the rough ones from Darius. The guards barely glanced at the documents before waving them through. The streets inside were calm as usual, the hum of several taverns and inns breaking through the air. The four stopped before they got close to the concordium; Darius was gone. No one had seen him in days and they had no more leads on what to do. The only thing they could do now was complete their mission.