On the Road

On the Road

Morning light slanted through the half-open warehouse door, cutting through dust that drifted slowly in the air.

Zio stood among stacks of crates. He pulled the cloth tight and tied it with the same simple knot each time. His movements were calm and efficient, never rushed.

Thomas stood a few steps away with a short list in his hand. He read it quickly, then slipped it into his pocket.

He turned toward Zio.

“Let’s take lunch first, Zio.”

“Alright,” Zio replied.

They sat on a bench in the corner near the wall, facing the food set out on the table in front of them.

They ate in silence for a while.

“There’s another order,” Thomas said, his spoon still in his hand.

Zio nodded, chewing on a piece of bread.

“But it’s pretty far. Out west of the city,” Thomas continued. “You going alone, or waiting for another carrier?”

“How many crates?” Zio asked quietly.

“About ten crates. Gauze, bandages, and other medical supplies,” Thomas answered.

Zio lifted his gaze briefly.

“I’ll go alone. I’ll use a cart.”

“Alright then. I’ll try to get you a bonus from Uncle,” Thomas said.

They continued eating until their meals were finished.

The light through the warehouse door shifted, casting a harsher gold across the floor. The midday heat began to settle into a heavy stillness.

Not long after, Zio lifted the last crate onto the cart.

“Good. That’s everything,” Thomas said, standing beside him.

“Be careful. Stick to the main road. Don’t take the small alleys.”

Zio nodded, then pulled the cart out of the warehouse.

Thomas returned to his seat behind the desk. He picked up the list again, checking the remaining orders as the sound of the cart wheels slowly faded outside.

***

Zio pulled the cart through the streets of Ravenhold, moving steadily past rows of shops and houses.

The streets were still active. Merchants stood outside their stalls, carts passed along the road, and people moved between the buildings with their usual errands.

Zio kept to the side of the road, guiding the cart around passing pedestrians and slower wagons.

After several streets, the buildings began to thin.

The western gate came into view ahead.

Zio continued toward it and slowed as he approached.

A guard stepped out from the side booth.

“Haven’t seen you around before. New?” he asked.

Zio nodded.

The guard’s gaze moved over the cart, checking the cloth cover and the crates stacked beneath it.

“Medical supplies for the western medical post?”

“Yes,” Zio replied.

“Stay on the main road,” the guard said. “Don’t cut through the side paths. The ground off the trail is still wet. Your wheels could get stuck.”

Zio nodded again.

“Alright. You may pass.”

Zio pulled the cart through the gate.

His pace remained steady despite the weight behind him. He kept the cart moving without sudden pulls or unnecessary pauses.

Once the western gate of Ravenhold fell behind him, the city’s noise faded almost completely. No more wagon wheels or merchants’ calls. Only the rustle of leaves and the faint brushing of distant undergrowth remained.

The western route was not an open plain. Trees grew thick along both sides of the road, casting thin shadows across the dirt.

Old wheel tracks were still visible. Hardened horse prints marked certain sections of the path. Along the edges, grass leaned inward, rarely trampled.

His eyes moved with old habit, scanning the cracked stones along the roadside, the repaired wooden markers, and patches of ground that held too much moisture.

The wind moved straight down the road. It carried no kitchen smells, no smoke, no trace of the city’s noise. Only the scent of damp earth and dried leaves.

Zio adjusted his stride slightly and settled back into the same rhythm.

The road grew quieter with every step.

***

The Guild’s medical post stood in a small open area, surrounded by a low wooden fence. The building was simple, with stone on the lower floor and wood above.

Three horses were tied in the yard. Two staff members pushed an empty stretcher into the building. Another carried a bucket of water and clean cloth.

Zio stopped his cart.

A medical worker noticed him approaching and opened the gate.

“Come in.”

Zio pushed the cart through.

“Please bring the crates into that room,” the worker added, pointing toward a small storage room on the lower floor.

Zio lifted the crates one by one from the cart and carried them inside.

When he finished, a woman stepped in and checked the contents quickly, matching the list against the writing on bottles and cloth bundles.

“All accounted for,” she said shortly. “Thank you.”

Zio nodded.

Inside, two patients lay still on their beds. Their bandages were clean. One clenched his teeth while the other stared at the ceiling with empty eyes.

“Another case from the western mine,” one staff member whispered to another as they walked past.

“Why hasn’t the Guild investigation team moved yet?”

“I heard most of them are still up north.”

The two staff members fell silent when they noticed Zio standing beside his cart.

“Would you like some water?” one of them asked.

“Thank you,” Zio replied softly.

He sat on a small bench in the yard.

A light wind passed through, shifting dry leaves near the fence.

The building door creaked open.

Several people came out carrying the stretchers. The two patients were already strapped securely to them, their faces pale and rigid.

One of their companions led a horse closer. The stretchers were lifted into the wagon.

The straps were tightened, and the horse began to move.

The wheels creaked softly as the wagon left the yard, heading back toward the city. No one looked back.

Zio watched until they passed beyond the fence.

A staff member stood near the doorway.

“What happened to them?” Zio asked.

“More new victims.”

Zio nodded.

He stood and reached for the cart handle. His gaze drifted west, toward the route he had taken earlier.

Only for a moment.

Then he turned the cart toward the fence.

The wheels crossed the wooden threshold. Zio left the medical post yard and started walking away.

The staff member went back inside.

Within the building, a colleague spoke quietly. The words were indistinct, drowned by footsteps and the rustle of cloth.

The wind brushed through the yard again.

It felt colder this time, lingering against the skin before passing.

The last staff member to enter paused briefly. A hand rose to rub the back of his neck.

He drew a slow breath.

“The air’s gotten a bit colder,” he murmured.

No one responded.

He stepped inside. The door closed.

***

The cart wheels rolled steadily over the dirt road.

Zio was already far from the medical post. The trees grew closer together here, their thick trunks scarred by years of unchecked growth.

He did not look back. His attention stayed on the road ahead and the steady pull of the cart.

Then the wind stopped.

Leaves that had been shifting a moment earlier froze in place. The faint scraping sound disappeared all at once.

Zio kept walking at the same pace.

His fingers tightened around the cart handle, pressure building without any change in his stride.

Something sounded faintly behind him.

Not the wind. Not the wheels.

Short. Sharp. Cut off.

Zio stopped.

He stood without moving.

A few seconds passed.

No follow-up sound came.

His gaze settled on the road ahead, the route leading back toward the city.

Then he turned his head.

From the direction of the forest came the sound of a branch snapping, heavy enough to send a faint vibration through the ground.

Zio released his grip on the cart.

A scream tore through the forest.