Author's Notes:

A week later than planned but it is at least 2,000 words longer than normal. Thankfully Stellaris didn't distract me much with the last few pages. Unfortunately, Stellaris has some pretty poorly balanced combat. But it means I was able to finish the last bit of this chapter!

------ Slip Hero Chapter 13 ------

The four guarding soldiers separate to return back to Calbin as Rembra and I continue west along the packed snow path.

“Just us now.” Speaks Rembra.

He is wearing a thick wool coat which is embroidered with red threads decorated into lines and swirls. A fur skin hood covers his head, the fur is on the inside while the skin is exposed outside.

“It is cleared beyond here as well?” I ask.

“Should be, it is not easy to cross through the snow where no one else has broken a path. If goblins were to, then the adventurers would track them easily.”

“What about beasts?”

“Hmm, small ones won’t attack us with our numbers and the size of the Bulims. Larger beasts sure would have been hunted out by now. Koblins don’t bring rations for a siege after all.”

“The Koblins just forage?”

“Yup, from what I heard from the soldiers before us mirts are smart enough to dedicate people to hauling supplies. Koblins only hunt what they need for a week at most. Goblins do bring food from their cave homes.”

Rembra looks over to his lead Bulim.

“But they neither can carry as much or trust others to share the rations properly. At least those outside of their clan.”

“So, that is another reason the Calbin defenders have been disrupting the goblins.”

I nod hearing his explanation. Much of it seems to make sense as the goblins looked to be easily fragmented.

“Then would that also explain why there are not many Koblins attacking anymore?” I ask.

“Yeah, I heard the Koblins will just leave if they cannot find enough hunting or foraging to feed themselves. So, they likely are scattering into the deep wilderness.”

“I do not think they would scatter so easily. They had much ferocity behind their attacks.” I reply.

“Well… that may be when they have a full stomach.” Rembra shrugs with a smile.

“Then the Koblins cleared out the animals and beasts already?”

“With certainty, such a number of them would need to eat a lot. I imagine even the fierce predators of the wilderness would be felled by a pack of Koblin hunters. I give them that much, fierce hunters they are.”

“Just not soldiers?”

“No.”

Rembra pauses for a moment, “Although many of the mirts fighting them are also hunters.”

He rubs the back of his head a moment.

“I can’t say I know much about fighting or hunting to tell who is better. Mirts were certainly better in our ancestor's time before the Koblins picked up on making bows themselves.”

Our conversation stops as we make our way up a shallow incline, the path weaves along the hills in a way that reduces the path’s slope. This is much easier on the legs to keep up a steady pace, even if the weaving takes a little longer.

I suppose it is better to save stamina than time. Also, as I think of it the slope would be better for carts and wagons.

“Do you use a wagon?” I ask Rembra.

“Oh no, not during the winter. The snow would bog the wheels down.” He says shaking his head and waving his left hand, “A sled maybe.”

I guess the Bulims do a good job on the terrain since they can also cover regular ground as well.

As we peak over the other side of a hill range the fog begins to clear up as the wind is stronger on this side. I can clearly see the sun now, it’s light reflects on the snow causing me to squint from the brightness.

By the sun’s height it is a little past noon. The two of us have snacked along the way and Rembra has even tied sacks with raw grains inside to feed his Bulims.

By adjusting my hood I can reduce the amount of glare from the sun against my eyes; however, the reflection still get me. I can tell Rembra is also having to do something similar.

It becomes harder to hold a conversation with the sun in my eyes and both of us continue along as the sun continues across the sky. The days are becoming longer lending to the ending half of winter.

Throughout the whole trip the only discomfort I had was a runny nose, I was sniveling.

Rembra sniveled.

The Bulims were even snorting.

We stopped as the sun was close to setting behind the Kainran mountain peaks.

“We should gather sticks and twigs.” Rembra says as he walks off of the path after taking out a small hatchet from a bag mounted to the lead Bulim.

I follow him, hopping into the steps he made into the snow. When Rembra chopped a branch off he would pass it to me which I held in my arms. After a few branches my arms were full and I struggled to keep the twigs attached to the branches from poking my face.

The Bulims settled down near the road in a recess against some bushes covered in snow.

“Alright, now we need to clear a spot to set up.” Rembra says as he places his sticks down.

I drop mine nearby and check where he is looking to clear. Rembra goes to grab a small shovel to clear the snow.

“Hold on.” I say, channeling some mana.

As Rembra looks up I prepare some magic and blast the snow out of the recess in a small area.

“Woah.” He comments, “That works.”

“I had some practice.”

“No wonder there was concern about nobles competing over you. That kind of skill isn’t just gained from ‘some practice’ like you say.” He adds while grabbing some branches. “I guess you can do fire magic as well?”

“Yup.”

“That solves setting the fire. We won’t make a big one or one for the night, just enough to melt enough snow. Keep most of the small branches for blankets.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“You layer one wool blanket, then pile some twigs on, then layer a second blanket over the twigs. It makes very good insulation for the night.” He answers looking at some of the wool blanket rolls.

“Good thing you are trading lots of wool.”

Rembra nods, “I’ve had enough nights in the winter without shelter to know how to keep warm.”

The small pile of twigs and branches is a little tricky to set aflame, the wood is cold and wet. With some more effort I manage to dry it out and get a sustained flame going.

Rembra places a bronze pot filled with snow above the flame.

While the fire is not very warm, the flickering flame is enchanting on its own. The sun setting behind the mountains only makes the small flame stand out more.

“A small clean fire won’t attract much attention, just in case.” Rembra shifts his position on the snow, “Also, we’d spend more time foraging wood to feed a warmer fire.”

I reach over for a wool blanket to cover my front. The new coat works well keeping my arms warm; however, the sleeves still expose my finger tips to cold air.

The snow in the pot melts enough and Rembra fills a water skin with it before filling more snow into the warm pot.

“Should make it over the Condrican river by tomorrow, might stay at the bridge outpost if we need the shelter.” He says while stoking the fire a little.

Some small sparks spit out from under the pot.

The flickering light is soothing enough to draw me close to sleep.

Rembra takes notice and begins to set up some wool and twig piles to sleep under.

It looks like a small shelter, the wool and twigs are propped up enough to slide under. The snow and wool act as a decent base to sleep over and my body heat is contained well under the cover of wool and twigs.

While I settle in, my body heat packs the snow enough to shape itself with my body so, I try to hold a comfortable position while the snow rests.

Rembra finishes setting up his spot with wool blankets and twigs.

For a first day of travel it was more difficult than when I came to Calbin riding with Esken, walking so much for a whole day. Fortunately my legs and feet are not very bothered by it.

Running up the Calbin hill conditioned me rather well and the walking pace is slower than the quick march that I had to keep up with to reach the warlord.

Either way I drift asleep with the darkening sky.

I rouse awake from a deep sleep, the dreams I had are quickly forgotten as if I had barely sleep. The brightening sky tells that I slept well the whole night.

The cold night did not bother me at all, only now that I stir and crawl out of the comfortable place beneath the wool and twigs I feel the cold air creep in.

Rembra is actually nearby, his morning activity may have woken me. Though I feel groggy enough to recall what brought me up, the timing is just right.

“Morning.” He says while he feeds a Bulim from a grain bag.

I make my way off of the trail to a snow covered bush to void my bladder. The warm steam rises upward as I relax from the relief.

The cold air is hard to breathe through my nose as it is cold and stuffy.

By blowing out of each nostril I clear each a little to help the air flow.

I make my way to the second Bulim where my bags are strapped. Each Bulim was tied to a nearby tree the Bulims laid under overnight.

The large beasts are very tame, as I approach the first does not notice me choosing to focus on chewing its meal, the second one simply glances at me. Its eyes sparkle slightly from small icicles formed near its moist eyes.

Inside one of the packs I rustle out some of the rations stored for the trip to munch on. Cold grain bread, corro nuts, roots, and salted dried koblin meat…

Whether I like it or not, I am hungry enough to not care as I stuff some into my pockets for the walk. The food is too tough to eat quickly.

Once Rembra unties the Bulims he stretches his legs, taking a deep breath in.

The large cloud of breath steams out before he looks towards me.

“Let’s get going then.”

He tugs at the reigns of the first Bulim, ushering it forward.

The sound of our feet against the snow continues on, the light steps of Rembra and I contrast with the heavy hooves of the Bulim.

“You seemed to sleep well.” Rembra comments while leading ahead.

“Yeah, my nose got a little cold though.”

“I guess it doesn’t bother you, the cold, being outside,” he stretches his back a bit, “The cold hard snow.”

“Hmn.” I can’t really comment much on that, I am getting used to sleeping in the cold.

When we walk for a while more I decide to ask, “what do you know about the politics around Calbin?”

I think we have time for a long chat.

“Oh, from my perspective I look at the whole situation from trade,”

“Calbin did not seem a big trading place.”

“Right, it supplied some goblin silk and pretty poor sithril. Mostly merchants would prefer to trade for their wools, Calbin produced a steady supply of that at least.”

Rembra looks over his shoulder to the loaded Bulims before continuing.

“Then that smith Laro learned something useful from a Dvaren about making steel. That drew a lot of attention.”

“Really?”

“Yup, there are not many mirts who can make a flexible steel that can be worked into such large sheets of steel to make a single piece of steel to cover the chest. If the steel isn’t good it will just break being stretched that thin.”

“Hmmm.” I consider his words, Laro’s steel did not feel like bronze, which seems easier to work into larger shapes.

“Notice how the Condrican soldiers have their armour plates as strips?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Well, most mirt smiths can barely turn their iron into steel so, they can only make small plates for armour.”

“What is the difference?”

“Hardness and flexibility I believe. At least that is what I look for as a merchant. I know that when hot iron is quenched in water it won’t harden like steel does.”

I recall seeing Laro’s steel plates being dipped into water once the shaping part of the work is completed.

“Anyway, Laro’s apparently too stubborn to leave Calbin so, it has drawn the attention of nobles to increase their influence in Calbin to draw more of Laro’s steel to them.”

Yeah, I do see Laro being pretty stubborn. I think it is because of his spiritual ties to the area that he would not want to leave.

“The thing is, most just want to know his recipe for making steel.”

“Is it that hard to find out?”

“Well, anyone can tell that you need iron. You then burn it in hot coals; however, no one quite gets it right. So, most talk it up to magic.” Rembra shrugs.

I can tell that the whole story is not summarised so easily, much like brewing or making sithril there is a reason for things. If the parts can be focused on then I might figure out what the secret is.

“I guess we can’t try it without a good furnace.” I comment.

Rembra chuckles at the thought.

“I’d be impressed to see you in front of a furnace making steel.” He says glancing over his shoulder with a smile, “I am also curious about the high quality sithril that started showing up in Calbin, I didn’t have time to find much out but the leads point to you.”

“Oh yeah, it probably was me.” I reply, no point in hiding it since I have some equipment made of it.

I continue on, “Melting down the gobite only makes basic sithril, it does lose some magical strength from the process so, I looked at the left over slag to find the remains of magic minerals.”

“Just like that?” Rembra asks.

“Sort of…” I hesitate for a moment, “Turns out only I can filter out the right minerals right now, I can only talk it up to magic.”

Rembra continues to lightly chuckle as we walk along the snowy path.

“I am glad we get to talk for a while.”

After the sun reaches its height overhead, our path leads down from the mountain hills into thick forests.

Before the sun sets we reach the wide Condrican river at the valley’s bottom, the bridge is only visible when we arrive at the river’s bank. Much of the shoreline is frozen; however, the deep water in the center continues to flow preventing ice from bridging across.

The bridge I crossed in the late autumn is now covered in white frost from the moisture rising from the river. I watch my footing in case the ice would be smooth enough to slip.

On the other side I see a figure move to stand at the other side, a spear in hand. The butt of the spear is placed on the ground as the spearhead points to the sky, a good sign it is not held in aggression.

“Lo there.” The spearman calls as Rembra and I pass the first half of the bridge.

Rembra raises his left hand as the right holds onto the reigns of the lead bulim.

When we draw near the spearman continues to ask, “Back from Calbin?”

“Yes, going back south for supplies.”

“Is it goin’ well up there?” The spearman shifts his stance.

“Just in time, the goblins were close to overrunning the town now the reinforcing army has been trying to chase the goblins off.”

“Sounds like it will take a while, being posted here will get boring for a bit longer.” The spearman turns to the outpost building.

“Do you have room for us to take shelter before the night falls?” Rembra asks as we step off of the wooden bridge.

“Of course, should even be able to take some of the hay stocked on the other side for your ‘lims.” The spearman replies.

Saying ‘lim is a conveniently short way to refer to the bulim.

“Right, I’ll tie up here for the night.” Rembra says while leading the Bulims around the outpost.

There is another soldier inside the small building looking through the partially open door.

“Just myself and Kep here.” The spearman looks over to me and sends a simple smile, “the name’s Mack.”

“Kordic.” I reply.

“I was asked to bring him south with me.” Rembra comments while down on a knee to tie the reigns, “He’s been good company.”

The soldier Kep pulls the door open more, it creaks a little as the wooden hinges twist against the cold wet wood.

I follow Mack inside the outpost which I never had a good look at before. During the fall it was mostly concealed by shrubs and trees. The wooden building is only one floor and it is mostly round inside.

The square entrance gives the impression that the building is square, beside the road an overhanging roof for Bulims to rest under also hides the curved walls.

Instead of being concealed by shrub leaves, the building is mostly covered in snow now.

The building has one main room with two small side rooms where I can see containers storing clay jars, wooden barrels, and boxes. The main room has a small fire with a pot hanging over top.

Water has been heated inside, some herbs and pine needles are mixed in to add flavour and nutrients to the water. I recall a simple remedy for someone suffering bleeding gums from a poor diet to drink boiled pine needles or some other sour herbs.

When I glance as he rations inside I can see a lot of grains, which is easy to carry and lasts a long time. However, it can lead to some other problems when only that is consumed.

Foraging the right balance of food in the winter for an army wouldn’t be easy and some boiled pine needles and herbs is a quick solution.

I sit down along with the two other soldiers, Kep uses a wooden ladle to scoop some of the hot pine tea into a wooden cup. He passes it to me, the warmth spreads through the cup into my hands.

The strong smell of pine and herbs reaches my nose as the warm steam rises against my face.

Rembra joins us and takes a cup that Kep fills for him before Rembra relaxes on one of the wool mats prepared. The spots are not as comfortable as resting on a thick layer of hay covered in fur but I can fold the wool mat enough to cushion my hip and elbow.

Eventually Mack goes back to stand watch outside, Kep is the night watch and will switch with Mack after the sun sets. During that time, Rembra and I gather some more firewood before setting up the wool blankets for the night.

I do wake for a bit when Mack switches out with Kep before drifting back to sleep. It is warm enough inside that I only use my wool blankets as a mat to lay on. By morning Rembra and I borrow the fire to prepare some more water before leaving.

The road south along the Condrican River is much wider compared to the road to Calbin and the snow is well packed from more use.

“If I think about it, I have only heard about you healing or making sithril. Have you done much with brewing?” Rembra breaks the silence of our walk along the road.

“A little…” I think over it for a moment.

“I studied about some different medical herbs and I tried to brew them into potions.”

“Did that go well?” Rembra asks.

“I don’t think I should brew it with liquor even if it preserves the potion.”

“Ahh, your herbal liquor has done well. Though my customers drink it to get drunk.”

“Well… liquor is a kind of poison in large doses. That kind of defeats the point of making it heal.”

“That is true, what else have you tried?” Rembra glances at me over his shoulder, his eyebrow raised slightly.

“Vinegar.” I reply while tilting my head.

“Err… that wouldn’t taste good.”

I see Rembra flinch at the thought.

“It does preserve the medicine though. I did not have much of a chance to see how effective it is. I always have trouble dissolving the potion.”

“Have you tried Bogvile extract?”

“Huh?”

I have never heard of it before.

“Guess not then.” Rembra raises hand to brush his hair under the red fur cap he wears.

“Bogvile are monsters of bogs, marshes, and the like. They swallow small prey and the big ones can grow to the length of my arm!” He emphasizes while stretching his right arm out.

“They extract what from them?”

“Well, they have a pretty big stomach of sorts, the digestive juices inside arn’t too strong but they can dissolve a lot more than any normal stomach can. So, potion brewers and alchemists often extract that juice for their potions.”

“Often? I havn’t read anything about that.”

“Hmm.” Rembra pauses a moment before pointing out with his finger, “Ah, they don’t grow very big unless there is a big enough bog for them to feed in.”

I suppose that makes sense, there were never many big bogs or swamps in the hills.

“Some mirts even feed the Bogvile to grow them bigger. A few rumours say that they feed em body parts of naughty children!”

Rembra’s voice changes to be more spooky.

“I guess that won’t scare you huh?” He continues to say with a sigh.

“I had a bunch of goblins try to kill me.” I reply.

“I guess that could toughen you up, but there are things out there that would scare the shit out of the best heroes.”

“Like what?”

“Mahrs.”

“Those dream eating spirits that make nightmares?”

“... Yeah.”

Rembra continues to walk ahead, from the side I catch a glimpse of his smile. It hides a somber tone under it.

Thinking about it, it would be hard for a warrior to fight against his own nightmares. That is probably what he meant by it.

In the next few days Rembra taught me much about his merchant life and focused on how he reads the kind of deal someone is willing to accept.

He starts off explaining it as “The difficult thing about bargaining is the other will try to get you to agree on a deal they get more for. You can tell this if they talk up about how good their product is or how they feel your product is not.”

One tip that came from this discussion is, “Many are not going to be rude and speak poorly about your product, unless it is crap. I try to focus on establishing the value of my items before theirs. That way they have to really talk up their own product.”

Rembra followed that up by talking for nearly half that day about the different deals he made and how he used his wit to see through the exaggeration. Stories about someone buying into the liquor from Ferrel.

Many of the nobles and wealthy merchants were buying into the liquor because it was stronger than ale and wine. Because of the grincer herb blended in Rembra could even advertise its effect against some sickness and ailments.

We arrive at Len after a few days of walking, only once did we encounter anyone along the road. Hunters from nearby were carrying some of the rodents they caught in traps and the main road is easy for them to follow back to their home.

As Rembra explained to me while approaching, the town of Len developed as a junction for transporting timber along the Condrican river. When a tree is cut down, the easiest way to transport it is to drag it to a river with a bulim and have the large log flow downstream.

With easy access to timber, the logs are made into lumber. Planks of wood used for building shelter or easily made into tools. Len takes advantage of some of the timber that passes along which developed the town into a trade hub between Condrica and Corrin.

Right now the river is mostly frozen; however, Rembra tells me that during the winter the stockpile of logs is made into lumber or firewood. Good lumber needs to dry properly as well since moisture in the wood can result in the plank disfiguring.

Much like Calbin, Len also relies on trading furs. The difference between the two is still noticeable, Len does not have very many adventurers. Koblins are no where near Len and the closest goblins are in the Ferrel mountains far to the west.

This safety allows farmers in the area to clear and set up large fields for growing food or raising livestock like Bulim or Chige. Len produces much more wool than Calbin; however, Calbin does produce silk from the goblins they loot.

Both of us stay at the same inn that Varrel, Esken, and I rested at the last time I passed through. I take a moment to look over the large wooden building, much of the snow is cleared from the paths and has become muddy.

The snow piled to the side is not cleanly white, a man shoveling muddy slush from the roads stains the white mounds of snow.

Rembra does not trade his wares here, he wants to reach Condrica to trade the silk for the kind of goods that would profit him later on.

“Trading directly for billets is not always the best option.” He summarizes, “Some mirts don’t have much need for precious metals so, they will trade goods for goods at a better deal.”

“But we won’t get the kind of goods that trade for many billets here?” I ask, using the knowledge Rembra explained along the way.

“Exactly! People here will want the silk but, we won’t be able to trade for what we want.” Rembra cheerfully explains while he rubs his hands close to the fireplace inside the inn.”

“Which is?”

“Supplies for the war.”

Oh, the trip was so peaceful I began to forget and the talk of trade had taken my mind off of it.

“If I were to rank what would exchange me the most value it would be food, equipment, and weapons for Calbin. Len does not have enough food stockpiled for the locals to trade away what they need to last the rest of winter.”

“Condrica on the other hand had a good harvest, their granaries are stocked and they will be willing to get rid of their extra food before it rots or is ruined by vermin.”

In the morning we buy some simple rations for a few days and hay for the bulims, a large purchase of food would not be possible at this point during winter.

The town was not very busy while I left with Rembra although I could tell from the smoke rising from the homes spread around the river valley that many are active and staying inside.

What I remember from my parents is that the winter is a good time to work on other jobs. Using the stockpiled fur, leather, and wool to make new clothes will take up most of the winter to finish.

While learning some herbal recipes, the dried herbs and roots were ready to be ground up. There were no villagers or merchants displaying anything in Len, it turns out the winter is just not a good season for merchants.

“Spring will be a good time to go through the villages once the locals have finished producing their goods over the winter. Also, they are pretty interested in seeds around here where farmers begin to plough their fields.” Rembra explained.

“I only had a little practice farming a small garden back home.” I reply.

“Yeah, most of the villages in the woods have a small garden. Along the river valleys it is easier to dig small trenches to irrigate fields with fresh water, doing so makes it much easier to have a large field of crops.” Rembra looks over his shoulder at the cleared fields of snow along the river bank.

“Once the crop finishes I try to get as much cheap food from the sudden bump production. My yearly cycle is to deliver tools and crafts from bigger towns and cities to smaller towns and villages in exchange for food when their crop is ripe.”

When I think back on it, Rembra was spending the winter attached to an army during the winter in order to do something.

“I guess you won’t be bored this winter.”

Rembra chuckles at my words, “Heh heh, yeah.”

“Well… as entertaining as walking gets.” I add.

A few days along the river valley I find the weather is much warmer, less snow covers the ground and the trees bear no snow on their pines. When I set up for the night I do not need to cover myself with a layer of twigs for insulation, the thick wool blankets are enough.

Spring come early in the valley; however, it is still many days before the river completely thaws.

The Kainran Fang Mountains to the north have sank under the horizon when Rembra takes us off the main road towards the river along a new road. The wide Condrican river draws close.

However, the flow is silent. The river lies frozen with only a few small piles of snow covering the icy surface.

There are tracks of people crossing the ice, a few wooden homes are built near the frozen shore. Wooden boats and rafts are placed on stands to hold them upside down above the cold soil.

A man stands outside near his home tending to a rack of drying river fish whom Rembra approaches.

“Good day ferryman.” Rembra says in greeting.

The man turns to nod at Rembra, his eyes glance over at our two bulim.

“The is still good to cross, takes me most of the mornin’ to dig a hole through it fer the fish.”

“Thanks.”

Rembra tugs on the lead bulim’s reigns to cross the frozen water.

“Careful of your step Kordi, avoid leaning and walk with your feet flat.”

I nod as I take my first steps on the ice.

It is hard and solid, my weight makes no impact against the ice. Although ice can be smooth and slippery the leather soles of my boots grip the ice well. Only spots on my boots which have lumps of soft snow stuck slide.

The weight of the bulims does cause the ice to groan and crack.

However, I can tell the ice is thick enough that the cracks do not budge.

After crossing Rembra comments, “It is much cheaper to cross in the winter, if we couldn’t cross here the nearest bridge would be in Condrica.”

“Are we not heading there?” I ask.

“There is an army fort just to the east of here, they usually deploy to the Heilow Barrier mountains and the woods before it to keep back the koblins and goblins that dwell there. The reinforcements in Calbin are just an expedition from here.”

“Ah, do they know about Calbin?”

“Should by now. I can find out more there and get supplies from their stockpiles.”

We continue up the river bank and find another road of packed snow, muddied from trampling feet.

“From there it won’t take long to reach the Heilow Monastery.”

“Hmn.” I nod recalling my reason for going here.

We push on as the sun sets behind the Heilow Barrier, the tall stone peaks join together like a steep wall of stone and ice. Sunlight shining a gold red streams out between the jagged tops against the sparse clouds.

Ahead Rembra and I find a pair of mirts at the roadside. They are setting up a small campfire and stop to greet us.

While Rembra settles the bulim down for the night I help set the fire and prepare a spot to sleep.

“Didn’t expect to find merchants on the roads this season.” one of the Mirt men says while tending to a stew.

We contributed some ingredients for it to share between the four of us.

“I work with one of the army officers, he needs some more supplies from the fort ahead.” Rembra answers.

“Oh, would that be about the goblin attack up north?”

“Yes, not the best weather to move an army.”

“Me and my pal here are gunna join for a bit, earn some billets and loot some ‘lins. Regular koblins around the woods here arn’t wearin’ much to salvage.” the mirt shrugs.

His companion seated beside him nods, the light of the fire partially lights his dark face.

Both are equipped with fur and leather clothing and I can see unstrung bows in each of their bags.

“I am sure there will be plenty of work for adventurers to clear out the goblins in Calbin. They will have a good stock of silks by now.”

The two mirts brighten up when they hear that.

“That’s good, soft silks are worth good billets.” one smiles.

I look over the bulims and realise that Rembra has always made sure the silks from Calbin are hidden inside the rolls of wool. The rolls are tied in an intricate way that takes a while to tie up and undo, it could be to prevent the product from getting loose.

Though it is also a safe measure to ensure no one can sneak a few sheets of silk while we sleep.

I wouldn’t be able to tell since I sleep pretty hard.

The two mirts share a tale of their recent adventure near the Heilow mountains, hunting koblins in the woods and how they encountered their first goblin. It was trying to lead one of their large spiders back to the mountains.

Sometimes their spiders venture off to set up new nests and the goblins try to round them up to bring the spider back to their caves. It is a waste to just let their valuable spiders wander off.

The goblin was easy enough for the two mirts to kill with arrows, they had a little argument over whose arrow made the kill when the spider jumped out and attacked.

“Covered my pal ‘ere in webs while tryin’ to stick him with its fangs!” one of the mirts laughed, pointing to his companion.

Leering back his companion replies, “You were too busy pissin’ urself thinkin’ I was done…”

“No! It was just fast and I had to tear it off ya anyway. You still were screamin’ how it bit ya. Lucky you were wearin’ so much fur.”

“You were wearing fur, was it winter?” I ask.

“Ah, no it was early summer. Was sweatin’ my balls off though.” he laughs.

The two of them didn’t have much experience as adventurers, mostly they hunted their local woods, going a little north to Calbin for some easy action is their plan.

Rembra seems fine with the company, there is no danger in this area anyway and once he became acquainted with the two mirts he was not as guarded.

By the day’s end we arrive at a clearing before a hill. Beyond the hill lies the vast woods under the Heilow Barrier mountain range which rise high against the clear winter sky. The setting sun hidden by the mountains continues to brighten the sky.

Built upon the hill ahead I make out the sight of wooden walls and towers, darkened by the shadow of the mountains. We approach and confirm a number of silhouettes on the towers that notice our approach.

Soon a soldier opens the gate partially and casually greets us.

Rembra approaches first, leading his two bulims, the soldier seems interested in him.

“I came from Calbin with word from Samil Raeweed of the situation up north.” Rembra declares.

“Right, come in, the commander will want to see you.” The soldier nods before he goes back to open the gate more for the bulims to enter.

Up close, the wooden walls are very thin, while the logs used are placed on their side, stacked about six logs high. The build quality is cleaner and stronger than the palisade that Calbin had quickly set up along the north.

The wall is high enough that I doubt anyone could jump to grab the highest point, making it much harder to climb. Though, I notice the gaps between some of the logs might allow some footing to climb.

Snow is also cleared out from the base of the wall.

When I follow behind the bulims through the gate the sight of simple wooden huts and tents fills my view. A few small fires are light to warm water and food and many of those inside are simply squatting and talking.

Their attention turns onto us right away. Under thick layers of fur and wool they are probably keeping themselves warm even outside of their small tent. The tents look to be full of belongings to keep dry with a narrow space to lay and sleep.

The tarps covering the tents are made with cleaner seams and some look like they are a layer of leather with wool under. Either that or woven branches are used to create the slanted roof and walls while a thin layer of leather is used to prevent water from running through the wood.

I continue to take notice on the different variety of shelters along the way, there only seems to be one main road through the center of the large camp. Between each shelter there are a few common paths weaving around but no well set roads.

Looking ahead I soon see a large wooden structure about three floors at most from the ground. By the time we reach the building we are met by some men wearing officer uniform, their shoulders embroidered with white or silver.

Except for the man at the lead, he clearly has his embroidery done with gold thread.

“Greetings merchant Rembra, I hear from the watch of your return with news from Calbin.” The gold officer says in greeting.

“Commander Wrightwald,” Rembra replies bowing his head slightly, “A request from Samil for supplies is within his report.”

One of the white officers approaches to take a small stack of three wax papers.

“The supplies will be granted, though you will need a few more bulim. I will look over the rest inside.” Wrightwalk states, “Your companions may join me.”

“Oh!” Rembra suddenly realises something and looks over to the two adventurers we joined up with, “We met these two on the way, they are looking to join up.”

I notice the two of them perk up, their faces attempting to show confidence when earlier they had a lost look on their face at the sight of the vast camp.

“Very well, I look forward to your assistance.” Wrightwald smiles at the two, gesturing to another officer, “Sort them out.”

The officer in silver nods and approaches the two and waves them to follow him into the camp of tents.

“I’ll be fine Kordi,” Rembra says, patting my left shoulder, “I am sure you can rest and warm up inside while I work out what I need.”

Wrightwald maintains a faint smile, though I notice a little uncertainty in his eyes when he glances down at me. He begins to walk to the door of the building and I follow along with the remaining officers.

Two of which are keeping company on each of his sides, both embroidered with silver.

“You his son?” Wrightwald asks, one of the silver officers begins to hold the door open for him.

“No, I came from Calbin.”

“Hm.” His stoic face slightly shows confusion for a moment before he turns to enter the building.

I follow the second officer while the first keeps the door open, the warm air inside breezes past my face and warms my skin. The feeling is very noticeable after spending days outside, the last time I was inside a warm room was in Len.

The bottom floor of the building appears to be for dinning and meeting purposes, I see a few doors to large rooms with tables. A kitchen in the corner is busy preparing food as we enter the large room with a single long table of wood.

Wrightwald takes a seat at the head table while the two accompanying officers seem to sit in arbitrary seats along the table’s length. At least twenty can seat at the table, only seven chairs are present though, the rest are piled in a corner.

I take a seat near Wrightwald, the wooden make of the chair barely creaks under my light weight.

Only four candles along the table light the room with the windows closed and a dead fireplace the dark features on Wrightwald’s face flicker in the orange light.

The room remains quiet, only the sound of the wax paper being held. Wrightwald’s eyes examine the writing against the flickering light.

He places the three pieces down.

“So?” One officer asks leaning forward.

“At least a thousand goblins up there, without a warlord to unite them anymore they can’t organize their siege anymore.” Wrightwald states.

“Was a big gamble to siege in the winter, how many do you think will freeze before the snow thaws?” The second officer chuckles.

“I suspect at least half will die from the cold or from being hunted. Still is too sizable of a force to let flee.” Wrightwald replies while leaning onto his elbows.

“Right, so we should prepare a pursuit force.”

“Hn”

The two officers nod to eachother.

I feel Wrightwald’s eyes focus onto me, the flickering light makes it a little dramatic.

“The group that killed the goblin warlord, you were with them?” He asks.

The two officers go silent.

“Yea-Yes.”

“There is a whole report here about your talent and deeds as a healer. Samil recommends you should be given a scholarship to at least keep you away from Corrin who tried to recruit you first.”

“Yes.” I reply, I feel there is not much else to say to that.

Wrightwald leans back to relax his shoulders.

“He made a good choice, I will accept and grant a scholarship to the Heilow Monastery. So, stay here the night I will have some food prepared.”

That night I gave as detailed of an account of the siege that I could remember. More officers had joined in for the late diner to hear, they seemed interested in my reports on the fighting and tactics.

Many had not fought goblins armed for war before and Wrightwald was pleased with the detail I gave of the events. He was impressed that I had seen many of these events first hand often in the thick of a fight.

“For a ten year old that is an impressive feat.” He had said.

Rembra returned very late to join me in the guest room to sleep.

Knocking on the door wakes me from my sleep, the bedding in the guest room is very nice, some of the softest I had laid on before. I cannot see the stuffing of the matt without opening the silk cover, which would likely damage it.

It is a nice matt, definitely not something I should be clawing into.

“Yes?” Rembra asks, rising from his bedding.

The door creaks open, a little bit of candle light fills into the room as a soldier enters.

“It is morning, you can begin preparing the supplies for your journey.” The soldier states.

“Thanks.” Rembra replies before a short yawn.

I unwrap myself from the warm blankets and quickly dress.

Following behind Rembra we go down to the main floor where the rooms are more lively with activity. Officers talk between each other, usually while eating.

“See if you can grab something for us to eat, I’ll be outside.”

I nod to Rembra’s request and make my way to the kitchen.

There is a chef there who notices me right away, I am pretty short compared to everyone else.

“Just over there, grab a package for you and the merchant.” the chef says gesturing to a short line of officers before a table.

The lineup goes quickly as the food is prepared into small bowls.

As soon as I pick the first one up I notice the bowl is actually hard bread but the top is cut off and the stuffing is removed. On a closer look the soup inside is very thick, the soft bread inside must have been mixed into the soup to thicken it up.

With my other hand I grab a second bowl, it is a convenient way to prepare a meal without worrying about having enough bowls for everyone. I also do not have to return it if it is edible.

At least… I think it is edible. The bread’s crust is very hard and the soup’s moisture is not seeping through.

The bowls are pretty big, my hands cannot hold them too well so, I tuck each over my forearms and press against my belly before I make my way outside to find Rembra.

How would I eat this?

It is thick enough to scoop with my hands I suppose.

Nah, I should be able to dig out a spoon from the luggage Rembra has with his Bulims.

The soldier at the door kindly opens the door for me, cold air begins to tingle against my nose and cheeks. It is time to be outside again.

The warm steam rises from the bowls against my jaw but the cold air hitting my face makes a weird hot-cold sensation.

Rembra is not far outside, he stops to take a bowl before finding his bulims tied up nearby. Soldiers have gathered and move bags around, a few extra bulim are also tied up here as well.

“Morning.” A voice calls.

It is Wrightwald approaching from the group.

“Preparations are quick.” Rembra comments.

“A swift response is needed, it will take time for you to travel back and I have a lot of bored recruits here that need something to do.” Wrightwald says resting his right hand against his hip.

He surveys the camp for a second.

“BJORO!” He shouts.

One of the soldiers preparing the bulims quickly jogs towards Wrightwalk.

“Sir?’

“Take this to the Heilow Monastery, I would like see a few skilled mages with us. While you are at it, take the boy Kordic there too.” Wrightwald orders the soldier Bjoro while handing over a message.

Bjoro looks over to me before nodding back to Wrightwald.

“Right, sir.” He replies taking the message and turning towards me.

I feel Rembra’s hand over my shoulder.

“We part ways now, I enjoyed the company.” He says.

Glancing up at him I reply, “Yeah, it has been busy.”

“Hn, it has,” Rembra nods his head, “Be sure to learn lots while you are there, most monasteries guard a lot of their knowledge but the Heilow Monastery will at least share a good bit of theirs for some billets.”

“Gather your things, we will leave as soon as we can.” Bjoro says to me.

I quickly run up to the bulims and search the bags for my bags. The weight on my shoulders burden my legs as the backpack and sacks are pretty full of my luggage.

Mostly the bag of ground gobite provides the greatest weight, I struggle a little to adjust where the bag is strapped onto my backpack to not throw my balance off.

“You ready?” Bjoro asks, beside him is another soldier who seems to be tagging along.

I run through my head again to think what I have and what I might have forgotten. But the more I think over it the more I realise that I have everything. I do not have much; however, it is heavy for me to carry everything.

Compared to the amount that the others are loading on their shoulders I am only hauling half of their load.

Well, I am half their size.

“You take care Kordi!” Rembra calls out, waving his hand.

I awkwardly shuffle to the side to half turn towards Rembra to wave back. Turning is tricky with the full load.

I soon regret having as much as I do have on me. The sithril hammer is too valuable to ditch or sell, the gobite grinds is certainly annoying me with its weight.

My mind runs through the thought of ditching it or trying to sell it to Bjoro, if he would even be interested in buying it.

No no, the stress is already getting to me, I feel the pulse of blood rushing through my neck, my heart is beating very quickly, my breath is already heavy, and my legs feel hot.

The worst part of this is that I can still see the hill where the camp is although the time passed feels like half a day should have passed. Not an hour.

The speed we are walking at is quicker than what Rembra and I had been going before. I am now loaded with more weight adding more strain on my legs, I continue to persevere through the burning sensation.

Bjoro and his companion march ahead, occasionally checking behind, I am not sure they are annoyed with my pace or not but they stay quiet.

I do wonder why one is not behind me just in case I fall behind without them knowing but I suppose they have a reason.

The more I think about it, the more annoyed I get.

My throat is cold and dry, the sweat is building up on my back the air cannot breathe or dry while I wear the backpack. When we do stop I will be sweaty too, that means I will get cold at night.

It really annoys me, we continue to march without break as the sun rises above our heads, the sun reflects off of the snow into my eyes. More annoyances.

Sunlight softens the hard snow, my footing becomes more difficult with the extra weight.

Compounding all of this is the burning sensations of my legs.

Then Bjoro stops and says something to his companion who steps off the path to dig out some snow.

A small creek of water runs under the snow there and he begins to refill his water skin.

“Take a break for lunch.” Bjoro says to me.

I drop my bags and sit down, digging out the food rations.

“Will you make it the rest of the day?” he asks.

I pause to think for a moment, my legs are having a hard time keeping up, they are already becoming sore; however, I could just heal the muscle a little.

Since my mouth is full of food I simply nod.

Bjoro just raises an eyebrow.

“Pass me your water skin.” he says with his hand outstretched.

Before we continue on I do some quick healing of my legs and shoulders to relieve the pain.

It does not take long before my heart rate and breathing pick up again, Bjoro’s pace is still quick. I had felt a little relieved when he asked me if I was going to make it and refilled my water skin.

However, unfortunately the feeling of the blood rushing through my body is easier to bring about if I fixate on something annoying. I work myself up this way to bring out more strength in my legs to keep up.

I do not hate Bjoro but, he will have to take the place of my mind’s target of frustration.

Being frustrated at myself would also work.

I recall that feeling while running up the Calbin hill, the thought of being caught by a koblin or goblin because my legs were weak drove me to push myself.

The thought of keeping up with Bjoro drives me now as we march our way into a forest, the trees are bare of any pines or leaves. Our small group takes another stop at a small creek again, the path goes across the shallow creek.

Normally a carved log is used for a quick bridge over small creeks; however, this one seems too shallow for anyone to have bothered. The unfrozen water is a sign that winter is on the decline.

For us, it is a convenient source of fresh water. During the break I can snack and heal again, my appetite grows much faster when I heal my muscles. I do hope I have enough food.

Then Bjoro’s companion comes back from the woods, I had noticed he left earlier but assumed it was to take a shit or something. I did not pay attention to how long he was gone for.

Over his shoulder he bring a decent sized rodent that he carries during our march.

When night begins to fall, Bjoro and I set up a small fire while his companion dresses the rodent. I have not heard his name yet, no one speaks much aside from Bjoro quietly giving a few orders.

The quiet is not bad, I can focus more on pushing myself to keep up with the pace.

However, once the small fire gets going, I take this opportunity to try and dry the back of my wool coat. The flames could help dry it but I do not want to risk a spark burning the wool so, I use a little of my mana in my hand to heat and massage the wool.

When the moisture in the wool is warmed, it becomes easier for my water manipulation skills to draw the moisture out of the fibers. Certainly it would take less stamina to just let the sun and wind dry it but it is good practice for heat and water magic control.

I want to find ways to reduce how much mana I use for the basics since the rate I can flow mana out is pretty low. This way I can have a lot of magic endurance, something that has proven very useful while in Calbin.

Before long, my body cools off and my back becomes cold. I decide my wool coat is dry enough and wrap myself up with the coat and a wool blanket from my pack.

The cooked meat and a handful of foraged roots for our meal are eventually cooked by the small fire. I can certainly use some meat, it will help my muscles heal. Though there is not a lot of meat on the rodent anyway the few bites are much needed.

When it was time to get some sleep, I was not able to gather any twigs for extra coverage; however, the night does not feel as cold. The lower we go into the valley the less the cold creeps in during the night.

So, even without the extra cover, the thick wool over my coat does well enough in the night. Still, sleeping outside is cold.

With a cold nose I wake again when the light of the rising sun begins to shine against the sky, the sound of birds chirp lightly in the woods. Nearby either Bjoro or his companion rustles and wakes.

Our continued march leads us through fresh snow covered trails in the woods, I cannot see any of the mountains from the heavy cloud cover. Light snow falls around as I follow the fresh trail made by Bjoro ahead of me.

The deep snow around us is piled enough that I could be buried up to my chest, fortunately, we are following a path already broken and only the recent snowfall really covers it.

I did not have any snow shoes with me and walking through deep snow would be a problem. Bjoro’s companion does actually have snow shoes which he occasionally uses for foraging into the woods, usually he brings nothing.

By the third day we arrive at a wide clearing, before me I can see a flat field of snow. Foggy snow prevents me from clearly seeing across it, I barely make out a tree line on the other side.

“We’re close.” Bjoro breaks the silence.

He nods to the left along the tree line.

“There should be some landmarks along the coastline that mark the path up to the monastery.” He adds before turning back to march ahead.

I take a few more looks at the vast snow flats, it is not solid ground beneath the snow. Bjoro mentioned a coastline, we are walking above a sandy surface. It is hard to tell there is sand under my feet with the snow.

That would mean the field of snow is a large frozen lake, or Fjord if this is the Heilow Fjord.

Ahead along the long coastline we find a shack buried in the snow, it has not been occupied recently. Bjoro takes this as his landmark and follows a path of depressed snow that snakes its way uphill.

Stones stacked into short piles help mark the path up through the woods until I begin to make out dark grey smoke rising from above the treetops. The buildings ahead are obviously burning wood nearby as I begin to make out some of the structures.

The path then widens, I feel the snow along the path is packed more. Trees planted in organized rows flank the road, each trimmed of lower branches.

As we make our way further in the foggy view begins to reveal a large wide structure, its base is constructed of stone, carved into blocks. Built upon the stone base, well crafted logs and lumber build the walls and roof.

I can tell right away there are two floors above the stone base, which may be a floor of its own with how high it is. Our small group come upon stone stairs, wide enough for ten to stand beside one another.

The snow is well cleared, likely done in the morning.

Bjori makes his way up to the main double door where he pulls it open with a low creak.

I quicken my pace to follow in from behind, the stairs are a challenge for my tired legs but I haul my weight up them. Probably no more than twenty steps, I lost count when I looked around a little more.

Before the building, I can make out a few smaller shacks near the main road leading to the steps, mostly concealed by the low fog.

Slipping in the door behind Bjoro I mimic him as he bangs the snow from his leather boots, the moist snow clings taking a few taps to shake most of it off.

Behind a second set of doors, Bjoro opens them to reveal a small group of people inside, relaxing near a central fire. Windows of wood on the open second floor are partially opened to vent the smoke.

Bright orange light from the hot coals light the roof while the people sitting around it cast shadows against the walls. Their quiet conversation stops as they come to notice us enter, we are covered in fresh snow, geared up with heavy wool and fur clothes.

It is pretty obvious we are not from here.

“Greetings.” One of them says, raising himself from the cushions he rested on.

“I did not expect anyone to make a journey in this season.” He adds.

“We’ve come from Wrightwald’s camp with a request for mages to reinforce Calbin from a goblin attack. I’ll need to speak with a master, or the grandmaster if available.” Bjoro announces.

“Well… I am Jolin Escroll, one of the three masters of the monastery.” the standing man introduces himself, stepping forward.

Bjoro digs out the request he is to deliver and hands it to Jolin.

While Jolin unwraps it to read, Bjori glances over at me.

“Oh, and the boy here is provided a scholarship.” he points to me.

“Hmn,” Jolin looks through the notes and pauses to read further.

“Ah, he shows talent for his age with healing magic. Recommended by Patyr of the Calbin temple of Faelin as well.” He glances at me for a moment before turning over his shoulder.

“Glacia, if you would, take care of the boy. I will need to take this up to the grand master.”

“Yes master Escroll!” an enthusiastic shout calls out.

A girl stands to attention and approaches me.

“Hello, I am Glacia Pinefollow, the west dorm’s perfect.” she smiles.

“Kordic Blann.” I reply, her energetic introduction throws me off a little.

Hopefully I can unload my packs soon, they are heavy and my clothing underneath is pretty wet by now. I could do little to keep it dry outside in the cold snow.

Glacia leads the way to the left of the main hall, everyone’s eyes are on the master Jolin and Bjoro who make their way to the right. It is warm enough inside that Glacia and the others are not wearing much.

She has a light wool robe worn above a long skirt that reaches her ankles. The wool robe is a base brown; however, embroidery decorated in colourful patterns of yellow, red, and orange give a lot of colour over the bland brown.

“Well, since you are new here Kordic, you will not have to worry about studies and such. Usually we get new students in the late summer, not late winter so, a proper tour and introduction will have to wait.” Glacia explains as she leads me down a hallway.

“For starters, I supervise one of the dorm floors. We have some spare rooms and I have an idea of which would suit you for now. You can of course, move around later.”

She scratches her ordumirt ear, “Especially if you want another roommate.”

“Ah, I’m sharing?” I ask.

“Yup, unless you can pay for your own room. If you have any problems just bring it up with me. After you settle in, you should probably ask around the dorm about jobs, doing some work around here will earn you some more.” Glacia glances over at the doors along the hall.

“We are on the second floor, the dorm rooms are marked with their floor first, then the room number.” She turns to a staircase halfway in the hallway and leads me up it.

More stairs, I groan to myself hauling my weight up each step.

“Oh, let me help!” Glacia turns and grabs my pack.

“Huoah!” I hear her surprise, “What have you packed in here?”

She does not completely take the pack off and instead helps pull me up, lightening the load.

With a deep breath she composes herself at the top of the stairs.

“Okay! Room eleven, your roommate is Baldwin. He is in the process of gaining an Adept rank in… spell scripting?” Glacia pauses and pushes her index finger against her chin.

“He should be a good senior to help you out, if he is not too busy.” She looks down the hall and opens the third door to the left.

No one is inside, the room is dark and the air is stuffy with a strong odour of pine. Glacia flinches at the smell, wrinkling her nose.

“Oh right, he makes his own wax paper in here too… Well, clear off the bed on the left, it's not his, he’s just using it for storage. Thats your half of the room, don’t let him push you around and take more than his half.” She turns about and makes her way out of the room.

“I am in room three, knock to check if I am there. I make sure I am available in my room at sunrise and sunset. I will let you take your gear off and rest.”

I turn back to my left half of the room, bags filled with pine needles mostly lay about, there are thin racks of wax sheets hanging above the room. Definitely where the strong pine smell comes from.

To start, I drop my pack and bags on the ground, push the pine bags into a corner and slide my own bags at the base of the single bed. The bed is not too bad, a wooden frame holds the mattress in place.

I feel the mattress to find it is stuffed with soft wool. Under the thin matt is a thick layer of old thatch, it has not become rotten or moldy yet. I would want to keep an eye on it incase something wanted to make a nest inside.

There are more bags of pine needles on the bed which I have to pile into a corner, leaving little room on my half since i hesitate to disturb Baldwin’s side until he arrives. My first priority is to take off my heavy wet layers, hang them to dry a little and then take a nap.

I do a little leg and body muscle healing to ease the muscle pain and quickly drift to sleep.

Rustling noises and heavy footsteps on wood wake me, a dark figure in the room is sorting and going through the pine bags. In my groggy mood I pull myself up, the figure looks over his shoulder.

“Hi.” a low voice says, “I heard from Glacia, I’m Baldwin. Won’t have much time to show you around like the seniors are supposed to but, you came at an odd time and I have other work to do.”

“Hmm… okay... Where can I take a piss?” I manage to say while half asleep.

He pauses for a moment, then replies, “I don’t have a bucket here, there are a few toilets outside.”

I roll my legs over to stand on the cold wooden floor, I dress on my large wool coat and leggings before walking out the room. Drowsiness clouds my mind but I know how to leave the building, there are some smaller doors on the first floor that will exit the building instead of the main door.

Sure enough, I find a door at the bottom of the staircase that leads out the other side of the building from the main door. A well walked path through the snow leads to a small building with a couple of small rooms, enough to fit one person inside.

The doors have a latch that can be closed to show it is occupied, painted in a bright yellow to see easily even with the cloudy dusk sky.

I wake up more after doing my business, the cool air helps raise my senses and I take a survey of my surroundings. The Monastery is big, larger than any building I have seen so far. The sturdy stone base supports the two or three floors built above.

The area I had seen while approaching was only the front half, behind it a narrow section of the building links onto another section. From what I can tell right now the main building is a large T shape, the wide end including the dormitory.

Along the side there are clearings with shrubs and tended trees, the snow is cleared or packed creating many small flat fields partitioned by the gardens.

I notice someone in one of the small clearings, doing some kind of exercise against a wooden stand stuffed with thatch. Their movements swing a thick stick against the stuffed thatch, each hit sounds a low thud cracking the dry thatch.

My eyes are drawn to a stand of wooden sticks near the small field, hedges of shrubs are planted and trimmed to box the field into a square with four entrances at each side. The wooden sticks are set up near the entrance I walked in through.

My memories of training with Arga and Esken come back, the two of them gave me a little experience. Nothing I can feel confident over, the only thing they really taught me was how to grip the handle and not let go.

How my wrists hurt from that!

Sounds of swinging nearby stop, I look over my shoulder away from the wooden stand of sticks. The person who was training now looks back at me revealing under their hood a face of smooth features.

Closer they come with a look focused on me, their eyes are violet and red a colour I have not seen before. Well, for an eye colour. I quickly recall a similar colour of flower that was within my mother’s small flower garden.

“What you here?”

I pause for a moment, it was spoken in an awkward way. The voice was also not deep.

As they step closer I can see long hair under their hood, with that face and voice they seem to be a girl.

“Sorry,” I start, “Did I interrupt you?”

Pointing towards their tatch target, I assume she was occupied. Her expression does give off an attitude that is agitated; or she is just worked up from training, I take a cautious stance.

“No.” her reply is blunt.

We both say nothing for a moment, is that all she wanted to say?

Maybe she is bad at speaking, well I can guess that from her first question.

Her eyes glance over at the stick stand.

“Are they yours?” I ask.

She glances back at me and pauses for a second.

“No.”

“Okay.” I reply.

Not like I could say much more.

“You use?”

“Ah, no. Well, am I allowed?” my response is pretty awkward.

I think my words are coming out pretty fast for her, she flinches a bit to think for a second.

“Yes... for students.” her words are spaced apart a little slower than most would speak.

“I am new… got here today… I have used one for practice before.” I say, trying to space my words and simplify them.

Which is surprisingly difficult when I put more thought behind it.

She nods, the pace seems to be enough that she followed my words.

Then, she walks towards the sticks, grabs a second one and holds it out to me.

“Practice then.” her violet red eyes sharpen their focus on me.

By reflex I grab the wood stick, it is carved into a smooth and round shape with noticeable dents and wear.

We stand about the same height, she could be the same age or a little older than myself. As sparring partners it would be a good pairing, I know from facing Arga and Esken the difficulty of facing someone with longer arm reach.

She takes her stance a few steps away and raises her stick. From her expression I feel a chill as she locks her glare onto me, part of me hopes she could go easy on me. But I recall Esken was always throwing her force without rest as it is better to train seriously.

Her foot suddenly steps forward pulling me out of thought, I need to focus because a wooden pole is being swung directly for my head.

With the sound of a loud crack of wood I raise my guard to block with my stick. The force of her hit vibrates through my wrists, her swing slides down the end of my stick freeing her for another attack.

This time she aims for the lower left of my belly, in reply I twist down the point of my stick to catch her attack, using her force to jump back a little. My reflexes caution me about getting close and grappling.

With a series of quick short swings she begins to gauge my defenses, her swings to not meet my stick, instead she withdraws her attack and quickly launches another short attack opposite of my guard.

I do not have much successful practice against this, Arga and Esken occasionally used these kind of light faints in order to open up my guard elsewhere.

With that in mind, I tighten my stance more, keeping my stick closer to my core area, if I let my stick wander too far I could take a hit.

Suddenly she rushes in, her stick thrusting in towards my chest. I hesitate, without something like a shield I feel uncomfortable blocking a thrust.

In an effort to deflect the thrust I time a side step before trying to swing at her thrust, my stick collides under her’s as I attempt to push it up and away to the left.

However, power from her shoulders forces her way through.

In a hard impact against my cheek the point of her stick collides against the side of my cheek. I roll my head to deflect the blow, the pain sears across the side of my head as her attack skids along my skull.

Then she follows up with my guard down and strikes against my left shoulder.

At this point, the pain is fading, my body heats up.

She swings another blow, I attempt to block but she overpowers my guard and forces down her blow against my left shoulder again.

Her violet red eyes are cold and unblinking, a feeling wells up inside my chest.

Annoyed.

Angry.

I am not sure.

The feeling is focused on her, the pain of each blow strengthens it. Like the march with Bjoro, I do not feel a hatred for my opponent. But I cannot help feel the frustration welling up.

She swings down again as my stance lowers, with my stick held up I try to block another blow aimed at my left shoulder.

Her force continues to overcome my strength so, I lean to the left and angle my stick’s point down. This slides her stick down the length, and like before she uses this to prepare another attack.

However, I throw away my caution and step in under her arms, my right hand draws the handle in with me.

Between her arms is an opening, an exposed jaw. Rising up from my low stance I strike at her chin with my handle.

She reacts enough to avoid a hit to her jaw but I club the left side of her face. Hard bone impacts against the base of my stick, the force of my blow exerts itself through her face throwing it to the side.

Her hood falls from her head letting loose ash brown hair.

After recoiling back, her loose hair reaching her shoulders covers much of her face.

I pause for a moment, that hit must have hurt.

Raising her head up, she partially turns to me. The left side of her face reveals as she tilts her head and her hair falls back over her shoulder. A chilling look from her left violet red eye locks onto me.

The dim light of the ending day darkens her expression.

Blood begins to run down the left side of her mouth.

Her approach come quick, in three steps she reaches me, I had taken a step back but she is within range fast.

The first attack comes from above, crashing down hard.

As I hold her attack her body twists and I feel an impact against my left thigh. She had struck me with her right knee, throwing my balance off little. Following up on this her blocked swing twists and pushes my stick away.

Her left hand releases her grip and makes a backhand strike at my nose.

I barely avoid it, feeling the grazing breeze against the tip of my nose. She continues to hold my stick at bay with her own, the freed left hand of hers launches at me, knuckles bare towards my eye.

With my right arm I keep my stick gripped but raise my elbow to hit her left forearm.

My skull takes the blow but deflects her knuckles.

She makes an attempt to kick me with her right leg but I step into it to stop it from building momentum. Her left arm beats down on my shoulder, I tuck my head to protect my jaw and face.

In our struggle she attempts to free her right arm but I keep her stick held at bay.

With a frustrated yell she forces her whole body into me, my awkward stance does not hold me up and I fall back against the packed snow.

Her body mounts above mine, the look of rage in her eyes sets itself upon me.

What the hell!

This spar was your idea.

She had abandoned her stick, raising her right fist and begins to punch down at me.

I raise my arms, my elbows covering my chin and my fists are raised above my head. Her blow lands against my left forearm, she tries to beat her way through my guard.

Usiner her left arm, she attempts to pull my arms away and punch through to my face.

Pissed off now, I grab her left arm with my left hand, pulling her across my body. My right arm abandons defense and I punch at her unguarded face.

She hits me first, against my left eye.

I strike at her face, she attempts to pull back but cannot manage it fast enough.

My first hits her nose.

Her next attack goes for my nose, I pull at her left arm, raising my body enough to twist. Her knuckles hit against my brow.

When she pulls herself back up to avoid my next attack, I aim lower, punching under her left ribs. With that hit she flinches and loses some of her strength over me.

Her cough from the blow spits a bit of blood against me.

With the weight of her body, she strikes with her left elbow at my face.

Even with adrenaline flowing through me I feel the impact of that.

She follows up with a solid hit from her right fist.

Arms from the side appear pushing the furious girl off of me.

“ENOUGH!” a deep voice shouts.

The girl rolls once from the push before pushing herself up onto her legs. I pause for a moment to take a deep breath.

A man walks over top of me and looks down at me.

“What the hell is going on?” he demands, looking over at the girl.

She looks away.

I begin to sit up, my left shoulder and face begins to throb. Soon a stinging sensation pricks at my wounds while I take a moment to breathe.

“Getting into a brawl again Leni?” he says with annoyance.

She continues to avoid eye contact.

“Ah,” I decide to speak up, “We were sparring.”

The man looks over at me in disbelief. Honestly, it is my first day here and I have already gotten into a fight, hopefully I will not get in more trouble.

“Look, you don’t need to defend her.” he points to the girl.

“Well, I am an amateur at sparring.” I start coming up with something to explain myself, “and I hit her with an elbow, that probably wasn’t nice… we didn’t have anything like rules so I guess it would escalate into a brawl.”

Really, I did not know how else to fight, I practiced with a mercenary after all. He advocated doing whatever in order to win.

The man lets out a sigh, “I don’t care much if you’ve got some fucked up thing for going this far, but you both look like shit now.”

“Oh, I am a healer. I’ll be fine.” I reply, applying some healing magic to my face.

I have practice from getting beaten by Arga and Esken.

The man gives me a look that says I am messed up.

Okay, I will admit that being used to getting beaten up is pretty weird.

“Whatever, just keep it clean…” he walks away, clearly annoyed.

Some of the blows against my face have actually caused some cuts to bleed. I easily mend these along with the bruises on my face and move down to my shoulder.

I take a glance over at the girl, I believe he mentioned her name is Leni.

She stands a few paces away, giving me a glare. I feel annoyed that I am already in trouble from this encounter and now she’s giving me glares.

“That no fair.”

“Huh? Me healing?” I frown at her, I still feel the throbbing pain even as I heal the bruises.

She nods

“I don’t wanna.” I reply, she should do her own healing.

Leni glares at me.

With a sigh I reply, “Okay, but you’d better not hit me.”

Those violet red eyes continue to give me a sharp glare, it annoys me.

End Notes:

Whut dis?

Gurl that isn't moe!

Must be Heresy... or your into that kind of thing...

I wanted to get the Kordi - Leni fight in at the end here but I ended up filling the chapter with a lot of Kordi getting to the Heilow Monastery. That pushed the length more than usual and I already do large updates.