On the Road Again

“Look at that man, Ishara.” My father's stern voice directed my attention to the figure stumbling nearby. “That man has unnatural thirsts.”

Following his gaze, I eyed the man and then the building behind him. Bright curtains billowed in the wind, briefly revealing decorated rooms beyond. There, resting against balcony edges and leaning through open windows, men and women alike were dressed in loose clothing, their faces painted with makeup, giving their cheeks vibrant colours. As they draped their bodies drunkenly towards the road, they called to passersby. The smell that wafted from the house was one that I would only learn later to be the scent of lust.

“What do you mean, Papa?” I asked.

By this point in my life, in Ishara's life, I was barely eleven and had no idea what my father had meant.

“He craves more than he needs. Feasting on the pleasures of the flesh.” My father spat on the ground before us. “It is his kind that angers the Gods.”

“He angers the gods?” I echoed, unsure how a single man could be noticed by the divine in such a way that would anger them.

“Him and his kind. Lechers, drunkards, vagrants—all of them are sinners in the eyes of the Lawmaker and Judgement Bringer.”

“What of the Blessed Devil that says temptation is—” 

Father stopped me with a slap to the back of my head. The sensation stung in much the same way as that of a grain-bee.

“The Emerald Pantheon may be all-encompassing, but we do not need to give in to the temptations doled out by the Blessed Devil. For these are for the damned souls.”

“Yes, Papa,” I replied as I rubbed at the back of my head, looking to the man who had left the house, adjusting his clothes. 

For the first time in my young life, I was curious about what was going on behind those walls. Tempted to know what was so bad that the Gods would tempt us with it, to see if we were pure of heart.

“Ishara, we go now.” He spoke a final time, tugging me by the shirt, nearly ripping me from my feet as he dragged me along. "We should return home and pray."

—ooo—

I awoke from my slumber with a soft gasp, inhaling deeply and looking around at the confines of the cart. Currently, the triop rested in their seats, glancing out the windows in quiet contemplation as they basked in the afternoon light. With a sigh, I grabbed at my chest, slowing my thudding heart as I adjusted myself.

After a drunken night of discussion with Rionriv and Sharzin, we decided that the best course of action was to take our winnings and leave. With the money we had earned, it would be possible to return to Tahvinstead, deliver the promised funds the hamlet needed to start improving its standard of living and have enough remaining to return to school much richer than we left. As much as I wasn't looking forward to another week of travel by cart after taking only a single night to get pummeled senseless, the thought of returning to a city with access to magosdromes was more than a little tempting.

Already packed and eager to leave, we rushed out the next morning, nursing our hangovers as we navigated the steps back to the stables. In a stroke of luck, we found ourselves on the same wagon train we had taken up and even placed in the same carriage as the first trek. After being met with a curious look from the driver, who knew us well by this point, we loaded ourselves into his vehicle and, by mid-morning, we were on our way back to Gildhaan.

By this point, we had been travelling for the better part of two days, and ever since the bout, I had been experiencing more and more intense dreams. It was as though the experience of being repeatedly knocked unconscious and immediately resuscitated had somehow disrupted my Kalish capabilities. What had once been the occasional night of peaceful rest was now plagued with the most vivid memories of Tahvin, Ishara, and every other soul that came before. 

In addition, it now seemed that every time I awoke, it was from a dream focused on Catholicism or the Emerald Pantheon. But instead of instilling me with a sense of understanding or religious devotion, I was left wondering. In fact, the memories did little more than confuse me. Forcing me to think about the uncomfortable topic of divinity and purpose. Something impossible to avoid when trapped in a carriage with nothing else to do.

“Why so mopey?” Sharzin asked from her seat opposite me.

“Huh?” I replied, pulling myself free from Ishara's memory and the wondering I had been doing about whether it had anything to do with my recent encounter with Aesandoral. “Oh, sorry. It's nothing. Just another dream."

"We all have dreams."

"I-I—” I grumbled, rubbing at my face before looking out the window. "Yes, yes, we all have dreams, Zin. Just sucks to be stuck with nothing to do but analyze them. We could have been doing other stuff this last week, and now we’re going to be wasting yet another week of travel.”

“I’d say the money gained in Bucharion's Pass more than makes up for two weeks of roughing it in some dingy cavern,” Rionriv cut in at this point, drawing my attention her way. “So shut up and enjoy your rest, Ruby Champion.”

At this, Aesandoral shifted in the seat next to me. As the warmth of the sun, having finally gotten to her, lulled her into a drowsy comfort, the elf began the routine she had started the day before. Adjusting her weight, she leaned her light frame up against me, resting her head on my shoulder before beginning to fall asleep. Luckily, it seemed that after the bedroom incident, there had been no hard feelings or awkwardness between us. In fact, I wondered if she had forgotten the drunken experience entirely, as she hadn't brought it up to me since. Choosing to let the moment be nothing more than a pleasant feverdream, I slouched my shoulders to give her a better pillow to rest.

Life could be worse. I thought, glancing over at Aesandoral with a small smile. So maybe I should listen to Rionriv. After all, in a few years, I’m sure I’ll look back on these peaceful moments fondly.

But I wouldn't get that time to rest today as, while reaching a hand over to adjust the archer's hair, she suddenly sat upright. Like a spooked animal, she scanned the interior of the cart wildly before pressing her face to the window and staring at the hillside. 

"Aes?" I asked, glancing back to the others who immediately tensed in response to their companion's reaction. "Aes, what's up?"

"Something's wrong." The archer insisted, reaching up and fiddling with the missing notch in her elven ear. "The horses drawing the carriage picked up a scent on the wind. They're starting to get agitated."

Looking out the window at the soldiers to our side, I eyed their horses as they continued forward without issue. At first glance, I couldn’t tell that anything was amiss, but if Aesandoral was on high alert, that was enough for me. She and her animal senses were keener than anything I had ever known, so if she knew something was affecting the horses before they even began to act up, I trusted her.

"Okay, everyone," I ordered, quickly withdrawing my magical cloth and beginning to wrap my hands. "Just in case. Gear up."

As we readied ourselves, a minute passed and then another. After what felt like an eternity, the moment finally came when the wagon train's bells began to ring wildly. The moment this happened, the driver slid the front panel of the carriage open and poked his head back to glance at us.

“Oy, ‘ang on!” He shouted through the opening, the rushing wind doing little to mask the fear that laced his words. “There be giants!”

My heart skipped a beat. The giants of the Mahua River Valley were definitely something to be feared. They were cunning, vicious, and dangerous. While nothing compared to the towering ghouls from the popular anime I based them on in my initial writing, an attack on the triop could be disastrous if we weren't prepared. Luckily, we had taken our few-minute warning to do just that.

“Are we stopping?” I asked, inspecting my companions as they entered the final stages of arming themselves.

“No, gonna keep’r movin’. We'll leave it to the soldiers.”

As he closed the divider and silence washed over our compartment, I felt the cart lurch forward, picking up speed. Out the window, I watched as the soldiers and their warhorses began to veer away towards the suspected threat. Keeping my eyes on them as they raced off, I searched for what they and my companions were sensing. With my eyes on the hillsides, I inspected the distant horizon, trying to understand what gave away the threats' positions.

Closely watching the hills, waiting for the illusion to fade and the reality of our situation to take hold, I felt my heart drop as the massive lumps of land shifted before flying skyward. What had appeared to be rolling foothills at a distance were actually humongous woven baskets lined with fresh grass and shrubs. Beneath the mounds, giant-sized hidey-holes hid the gargantuan beasts that leapt from their camouflage before releasing a barrage of boulders.

“Incoming!” I screamed, throwing open our carriage door as one of the boulders rolled through the air towards us. “Ri! I need to get airborne!”

Leaning from the cabin, I reached a hand back to the sorceress as my magic pooled in the wrappings that covered my knuckles. Without hesitation or questions, Rionriv’s hand gently took mine, squeezing it for a moment as a wave of familiar energy coursed through me.

“You’re goo—”

With a spring, I launched myself from the cart, not having the luxury of time to let her finish. Flying in a straight line towards the boulder, now no more than thirty feet from our vehicle, I raised a fist in preparation. The magic in my glove discharged the moment the punch connected with the horse-sized boulder. Fissures spiderwebbed across the surface at the impact, detonating the stone into fragments that scattered around me.

Continuing forward with my flight, I cleared the boulder's dust as I rose high enough into the air to gain a better line of sight of my carriage. My heart dropped as I realized I had been too late. Though the object had been obliterated, all it meant was that hundreds of smaller rocks had then hit our carriage like a blast of buckshot. 

The side of the carriage I had leapt from was now peppered with fist-sized holes, shattering the windows, breaking panels and knocking free the once open door. As I noticed this, the vehicle began to veer to the side. Glancing towards the driver, or what was left of him, I realized that the man's head and chunks of his waist were missing, having taken a lethal blow from the shrapnel.

And, what was more important in that moment, was the fact that there was no sign of my allies.