Sera and Thomas were waiting for him as he came down. Thomas seemed to have prepared in advance as well, for he had two sacks, one large and one small, that he held out to Samuel. In taking them, he realized the larger sack was filled with carefully wrapped food, and the smaller sack held coffee.

“This should be enough food to last you until Milagre,” Thomas said as he handed the sacks over. “Even with your appetite.”

Samuel grinned his appreciation and put the sacks into his pocket space. He was pleased to know that he’d have good food for the journey. It was even better that he’d have good coffee. Sera was hobbling towards him now, holding a small pouch that jingled as she put it in his hand.

“I can’t accept money,” Samuel protested. “I can travel myself, and I’ll earn money when I get to Milagre.”

Sera shook her head, that old stubborn side coming to life at once. “You’ll take it regardless. When you get to Milagre, you’ll need to sleep at the tavern until you can get more permanent housing.”

Samuel accepted the pouch of money without further argument. He sensed that trying to resist further would get him nowhere in any event. Slipping that pouch into his pocket space as well, he pulled Sera into his arms and hugged her tightly. Her arms wrapped around him as well, and they enjoyed the small moment in their shared memories, truly comfortable in each other’s presence.

“Well,” Sera said, breaking away and wiping her eyes. “You keep yourself out of trouble, now. I don’t want to hear about you fighting another god.”

Samuel chuckled weakly. “Neratas wasn’t a god. And it’s not as if I seek trouble out, you know.”

“No!” she said vehemently. “You are a trouble magnet. It comes to you, which is worse!”

Samuel found he had no argument for that, and could only offer a slight shrug. Sera let out an indignant humph and swatted his shoulder, but she smiled all the same. Then, her eyes becoming moist again, she turned to go back to her seat by the fire.

“Well, go on then, bookworm. And you better stay safe. No dangerous nonsense.”

Samuel followed her to the chair with his eyes, smiling sadly to himself. A part of him was already regretting leaving her behind. He wanted to spend the rest of the time they had together talking and growing close again. But another voice, even louder, was clamoring to get back on the road. Besides, they already knew each other well enough. Sera knew him better than anyone else that had ever been in his life. A hundred years apart couldn’t change that.

“Look after her, Thomas,” he said, clasping the young man’s arm in farewell. “She’s tough, but I can’t bear the thought of her being lonely.”

“I’m never lonely,” she said with dry sarcasm. “He spends more time at my side than in the kitchen, which is a problem!”

Thomas laughed at her sally and returned the grip on the handshake. “Travel safely, Samuel. It was an honor to meet you after all I’ve heard.”

“The honor is mine,” Samuel replied smoothly. “I grew up with your great-grandmother and your great-grandfather. You are a good man.”

Thomas grinned slyly at that. “Tell grandmother that. She doesn’t believe I carry my weight.”

“Well, she’s a hard taskmaster,” Samuel agreed. “But she’s the best one I’ve ever known.”

“Flattery doesn’t suit you!” Sera called from the fireside.

Samuel chuckled again and crossed to the door. Just before slipping outside, he paused in the doorway. “Take care of yourself, Sera. I’ll stop by and see you again soon.”

Then he was out, letting the door close gently behind him. The few rays left of the setting sun dazzled his eyes, and he blinked rapidly to adjust them. The new eyes of this body, courtesy of Arcana, adapted to the lighting change extremely quickly, and he was soon on his way down the main road. He passed the fountain at the center of the village and ran his fingers along the stone surface. Strange how little it changed in a hundred years.

Several of the farmers were returning from the fields at this time of the day. They recognized Samuel and greeted him with smiles, stopping for a brief conversation. When they learned that he was on his way out of the village, they expressed their pleasure for him. Samuel was hit by a rather strong sense of deja vu as he conversed with them, remembering the last time he’d set out from Harlest. He hoped that he was heading for a much calmer future this time.

Eventually, the farmers excused themselves, looking forward to a hot meal at The Nook Inn and a good night’s rest. Samuel waved in farewell, fully aware that most of them would be up at the crack of dawn, heading out once again to tend the fields, repair their barns, or perform some other simple task. It was boring work, but it was also simple, and they were masters of their craft.

Samuel tried not to feel too elated as he broke free of the line of buildings, but he couldn’t help it. Traveling had been one of his greatest dreams growing up. Even when he’d gotten to escape the village the first time, he hadn’t accomplished much. Nearly all of his time had been occupied with the Mage’s College. This time would be different, he promised himself. He would stay in Milagre only a few days, and then he would take off on a journey.

Samuel did pause at the top of the large hill he’d practiced on, just long enough to turn back and look at the village again. Smoke curled out of the chimneys, blown away by the evening breeze. Life here was so calm and peaceful, he thought. There was never anything exciting or dramatic. Each day was the same as the one before it. The villagers preferred it that way, he knew. As his mother had always told him, normal is comfortable.

He laughed to himself at the idea as he began down the other side of the hill. The wind was more present here, though Samuel couldn’t figure out where it came from. Even more curiously, it didn’t blow in from the ocean, but out to it. Thinking on it a moment, Samuel remembered clearly that, a hundred years ago, the wind had moved in the opposite direction. Strange, he thought to himself. Maybe one of the mages at the college in Milagre would be able to explain it.

The road that led away from Harlest to the Dagorra Forest was pretty much straight, aiming for the thinner piece of land where the Harlest Peninsula connected to the main island. As he’d noticed before, the village was pretty isolated from the rest of Gorteau, due in equal parts to its distance, the massive forest, and the mountain range just north of that. But the road was well-maintained, as storms rarely visited this part of the continent.

Even from this distance, Samuel could make out the glow of streetlights and buildings from Harlest. He’d only walked an hour or so, but he could still see the light reflected in the gloomy clouds. It was so far, but it could still be felt, he thought. Like the sea. Even from miles away, you could detect the smell of salt, and you knew it was there. Such was the natural way of things, he thought.

It didn’t take him much longer to reach the edge of the forest. About three hours in, he noticed the first trees. They stood out even in the dim light of the night, as there were few trees on his way here. Even more, the trees in front of him were massive, as if they’d existed for thousands of years. Samuel knew, of course, that the forest was only about a hundred years old, having seen Grimr make it anew, but just by looking at it, you could never tell.

The feeling he got from the densely packed trees was another thing entirely. Having experienced the sick and dying forest as it had been before, the fresh clean scent of natural air was a new experience to him. Life was bursting at full strength everywhere he looked as if the trunks were actually exuding some kind of ancient life magic. It was a refreshing change of pace, Samuel thought, and he felt a surge of fierce pride for his old friend Grimr.

He debated for a moment on simply pitching his one-man tent here at the edge of the trees, but decided that he’d rather have the shelter provided by the interwoven branches high above. Rain wouldn’t filter through those leaves as easily, and he was sure he’d be more comfortable inside the forest. Making up his mind, he began to trek into the forest.

The light, already dim as it was night, became even darker as he entered under the green canopy. But after a few more meters, he noticed that at the base of every tree was a faintly glowing clump of mushrooms. His hungry mind led him to consider how they would taste, but he decided he much preferred them as a light source.

He found himself a nice small section of soft moss between two trees and plopped himself down to relax. It was very relaxing, surrounded by pure nature on all angles, with such a soft surface under him. No need to set up the tent, he thought to himself. He’d just sleep in the open, welcoming the gentle breeze that flowed through the area.

It was just as he’d pulled out the large sack of food Thomas had given him that he first heard it. The sound of growling. He whipped around, jumping to his feet and looking for the source. There, on the other side of the path, were three sets of glowing yellow eyes. Then he saw the lithe bodies of the wolves as they paced into view, their eyes locked onto him. There was no mistaking their intent. He was trespassing, and they were hungry.