Volume 1: Arc 1: Chapter 7

AUTHOR'S NOTE

This will probably be the last chapter for a few days.

20 R.E.

Rajac spent most of the next week finishing up many of the long-term chores that he had put off during the spring. He bundled the wheat for winter storage, neutered the more aggressive cattle, and sheared the sheep.

Intermittently, Rajac had heartfelt goodbyes with every member of his family. His father had finally come to terms that he was leaving and gave him an old leather vest that looked as if it had been sitting in storage for decades. But Rajac was grateful all the same. In their little valley, leather was a precious commodity. To hand a large quantity to him so casually, it was a fabulous gift.

His mother did not gift him anything, instead, she sat and talked with him for a long time. It reminded him somewhat of the times he spoke with Grandfather Yorin. Nisa, on the other hand, she refused to even speak to him. He had tried, multiple times, to speak to her about his impending departure.

But, throughout the week, every time Nisa saw him, she left the room, either stone-faced or tear-streaked, saying nothing. On the day of his departure, Rajac tried one final time to say goodbye to her. “Nisa,” Rajac said as he knocked on her door. There was no response. He knocked louder. “Nisa, don’t do this.” Rajac said softly, a twinge of sadness in his voice. “I don’t know when I’ll be back. Please.”

A note of desperation entered his voice and there was still no answer. After waiting a long moment and hearing only silence, Rajac reluctantly backed away from the door, hefting his small pack and walked out into the yard where his mother and father were waiting with mixtures of apprehension and sadness on their faces.

“She won’t speak to you, will she?” Tai said solemnly. “No.” Rajac said softly. “I think she received her stubbornness from you father.”

Aiken laughed, a bitter note in his voice. “She will regret this later, have no doubt about that.” “I don’t father. I’ll try to visit as soon as possible but…” Rajac shrugged uncomfortably. “I do not know how far I will travel.”

“Send letters then if you are gone more than a year. Just so we know you are alive?” His mother said. Rajac nodded mutely, emotion clogging his throat. Tai hugged her son, her arms only wrapping around to the small of his back. Fiercely, he returned the hug, moisture welling in his eyes.

“What about the chores? The farm? Who will take my share?” It was ludicrous that he had not thought of this problem before but in the final days before he left, all of his thoughts were directed towards his family and not any of the problems his leaving would cause them. “We’ve already worked it out.” Aiken said calmly. “Don’t you worry.”

Rajac removed himself gently from his mother’s hug and walked over to grip his father’s hand firmly. “We’ll miss you.” “And I, you.”

Rajac briefly hugged his father with one-arm before walking, his back straight, out of the valley. His only regret was not being able to say goodbye to Nisa.

~

Nisa Rashak spent the week before her brother left, cloistered in her small room. When her brother had come in early that day from training, she thought it a treat. He would have time to play with her!

Rajac rarely did, he was always out in the fields working or training. But, that day had been different. Rajac said he was leaving. By the way mommy and daddy spoke of it, he would not be back for a long time, if ever. They seemed to think it was done deal.

But Nisa refused to accept it. However, as the days passed and nothing changed, her heart began to break into splinters. Every time she saw her big brother, she felt either a boiling rage or an incredible sadness. How dare he abandon the family! How dare he abandon her!

When he tried, that final day, to say goodbye, she almost went outside to say goodbye to him, yet, her pride would not allow her. As her brother listened at the door for her response to his knocking, she stuffed her sheets in her mouth and cried silently, laughing at the fool she was.

For the rest of the day she stayed in her room, abjectly hating what she had done. It was a very long time before she could even begin to try to forgive herself.

~

As Rajac stepped outside of the valley, he felt a loosening of his muscles. The shackles that had chained him to this valley for eighteen years had finally been loosened. While he would always return, he was no longer restricted the bright-green landscape.

For the next few hours, Rajac slowly made his way down Creva Mountain. There was no path, so he had to pick his way between clusters of trees and piles of brush littering the expanse below.

All that day, Rajac saw no living creature larger than a deer. With the reputation of the Western Territories as a dangerous place, he was surprised he had seen none of the dangers many spoke of.

That night, he camped on the mountainside, taking out a variety of food-stuffs from his pack that included salted meats, fruits, and vegetables. By his estimation, he should have enough food to last until he reached Gerosh.

Rajac had considered traveling to Azor first, as his aunt and uncle had; however, Azor was in the middle of a war with it’s southern neighbor, the kingdom of Mushan, and while he feared for his aunt and uncle’s safety, Rajac did not want to become embroiled in any war at the moment. His primary goal was to find the rest of the Ventros race and a war was not the place to begin.

Over the next few days, Rajac slowly made his way down the mountain, always remaining on guard for the evident dangers that lurked within this region. A hand always rested upon his sword but he never had to draw it.

It was two weeks before he finally felt the ground leveling out. Long ago, the towering oaks that had interrupted his vision of the bright, blue sky had turned into medium-sized ferns. As the ground leveled out, Rajac had finally left Creva Mountain.

A sound of rushing water met his ears as he continued to walk through the trees. As his water skins were near empty, Rajac decided it would be the perfect time to refill them. Ducking under a few trees, Rajac stumbled slightly as he slipped in the muddy bank next to a small creek dividing the flat landscape as far as the eye could see.

Setting his pack on the ground on a small outcropping of rock nestled into the side of the bank, Rajac took out several of his water skins and began to fill them with copious amounts of the clear liquid.

Just as he was fastening his pack, Rajac heard a rustling from within the trees. Wary, but not paranoid, Rajac did not immediately jump back into the Cadence. Though, he did rest a hand on his short-sword.

As he waited for whatever made the noises to appear, he began to breathe slowly through his nose, exhaling out of his mouth. Would this be his introduction to the Western Territories?

A manling walked out of the trees, a water-skin in hand, and a pack on his shoulder. Rajac stared at him in confusion for a moment as he looked like a man but clearly was not. His eyes were set into the sides of his head where a man’s temples should be while his face was more egg-shaped like than ovular.

“Greetings.” Rajac said, a note of confusion still in his voice. The manling jumped back, clearly ready to attack anything the made a sound. “Who are you?” He snarled. “Why?” Rajac said curiously. This was the Western Territories after all.

There was little chance he would give away any hints as to who he was or his race here. It was different with the adventurers who traversed to their valley, however. One would have to be exceptionally lucky or strong to make it that far. His family was so far beneath their concerns that they felt mostly safe when conversing with those men. Some even traded with Rajac and his family, procuring bundles of food in exchange for a small amount of coins, a portion of which, Rajac had stuffed in his travel pack.

However, near the edge of the Western Territories, it was a different story. Bandits, criminals, and hordes of monsters stalked the forests battling for territory and searching for easy prey.

“This is my creek!” The manling snarled. “I claimed it. It’s mine! Don’t touch it!” The manling rasped out every word. When the manling saw Rajac’s water skin, he cursed loudly. “You maggot-infested sack of shit! Pour that water out now!”

Rajac raised an eyebrow. This manling was certainly an interesting creature. He didn’t seem all that dangerous. Though, to make sure, he willed his Sadat to scan the manling for magical energy. None whatsoever.

Rajac smiled. This manling posed no threat to him at all without magic. “I need this water.” Rajac said, trying not to chuckle, “But you can take the rest.” Expanding his arms, he shouted, “Look at all this water.”

The manling growled, clearly unhappy with the terms Rajac proposed. “Drop the water or I’ll make you drop it.” Rajac declined. He had wanted to try his forms out on a living person. Practicing on trees was fun and all, but when they did not strike back, it became tedious to have them as opponents.

“Come at me then,” Rajac said, drawing his short-sword, the Sadat glinting in the sunlight. The manling growled and jumped down into the bank, surprisingly keeping his footing. He drew a long saber with a bright-blue tip.

“Ahhrgh.” The manling growled as he slashed at Rajac’s still form. As he took the first step of the Cadence, Rajac decided not use his elemental magic versus this manling. Even the manling’s sword technique was abysmal, with magic, it would not even make it a fight. Annoyed, Rajac took the second step of the Cadence, circumventing a wild blow from the manling.

This was no fun at all. His mood souring fast, Rajac took the first step in Martyr’s Fallacy, flicking his blade up through the sword arm of the manling. With a spurt of blood, the manling’s arm flew into the creek with a splash.

Howling in pain, the manling fell to his knees clutching his bloody stump. Rajac kicked the manling over onto his back, leveling his sword just an inch from the manling’s face. “Be lucky I left you alive today, my friend.” Rajac growled. This was no fight. It was a master-in-training versus an amateur. How pathetic.

Hefting his pack onto his shoulder, Rajac sheathed his short sword, walked over to the creek, and picked up the manling’s saber. He rather liked the look of it. The blue metal on the end of the sword was rather fascinating to look at. Furthermore, it was always useful to have a spare sword.

Slapping the flat of the blade against his shoulder, Rajac turned back to the manling, still huddled on the ground, “I’ll take this as the price for my victory. For whatever that’s worth.” Rajac ended with a sigh.

Truly, Rajac’s introduction to the Western Territories left a lot to be desired. Was this truly the wild and barbarous region on the Vashin Continent? Rajac shook his head, disbelievingly at the weakness of the mangling and, once again, began to trek through the forest.

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