“Seconds?” asked Pudge, taking Keldon’s now empty plate of scrambled eggs.

“Yes please.”

It was the morning of the next day. Last night, after some contemplation, Keldon decided against further practice and returned to the cabin, intent on speaking with Salem. However, upon returning to the cart, he was nowhere to be found. However, after spending a frustrating fifteen minutes searching, Keldon finally found him. Problem was, he was piss drunk with the Prison Crew Boys. His face was as flushed as a newbie at the Hissings caught red-handed huffing smoke on the job. Salem had summoned his skill orb and was using a “Lesser Control Fire” spell to entertain the crew. Keldon had waited another ten minutes or so, hoping for an opportunity to speak with Salem but the lot showed no sign of slowing down. Eventually, Keldon gave up, and returned to the cabin to settle in for the night.

#

“Ugh...” Salem grumbled as he stirred awake. He had fallen asleep around the campfire last night so Pudge and Keldon were forced to work around him in the morning.

“Morning Sleepyhead,” said Keldon.

Salem rubbed the sleep from his eyes, wincing a few times as the sunlight poked him in the eyes. Pudge walked over, handing him a warm plate of spiced sausage and creamy scrambled eggs with a cold glass of water, which he’d accepted with a nod of thanks.

Keldon couldn’t get a good read on Salem, even just eating his meal Salem was unassuming, but after yesterday’s display of might, it was hard to look at him the same way.

“What you lookin' at?” Salem said with a glare.

“Birds.” Said Keldon. Salem could act as cold as he wanted, but he wouldn’t protect Keldon so fiercely like that last night without some kind of reason.

Right?

“Hey, Salem.”

“Hm?”

“Could I talk to you after you’re done with your food?”

“Ain’t nothin’ to talk about.”

Keldon stared at Salem unamused. He continued to eat his breakfast but Keldon maintained his stare. At this point, Salem was fidgeting in his seat, trying to feign nonchalance as he ate but Keldon refused to drop the look, confusing Pudge who looked between the two.

“Would you stop that?” said Salem.

“Not until you agree to talk.”

“Fine, stare all you want then,” said Salem with a huff, turning his back to Keldon.

After the three of them finished breakfast, Pudge and Ernie had started cleaning up the campsite, picking up empty bottles, and packing up the sleeping rolls from the night before. Mitch had asked Salem to help feed the tortulgas before their departure and when Keldon had asked him for his own task, Mitch simply laughed, telling him to go help Salem; the prison crew boys would handle the rest. With a bucket full of scraps and rocks, Keldon pushed over the wheelbarrow of feed and plopped his next to Salem’s, to a certain someone’s obvious displeasure.

“Hup!” Keldon grunted, tossing a large chunk of stone into the gaping maw of the tortulga.

Damn tortulga breath absolutely stank, it smelt like a strange mix of vinegar, rotting cabbage, and wet stone. At least with Hissing smoke, he was used to the smell, but this was another thing entirely.

Keldon pushed down the urge to vomit as he shoveled in another helping of slop and stone. Salem had already finished his task, cleaning up after himself and had returned to the cart. It seemed like he was doing his best to avoid Keldon but once the two of them were in the cart, Salem wouldn’t be able to escape him.

After another few arduous minutes, Keldon had finally finished, putting away the wheelbarrow and returned to the cabin of the prison cart. However, Salem refused to meet his gaze, instead, ignoring his presence and continuing to read his book. Keldon sighed, sitting down in front of Salem.

“You know, if you keep ignoring me, it’ll seem suspicious to that Jorhund guy,” said Keldon

“Go away,” Salem said, shooing him off with a wave.

“Salem, c’mon you need to at least pretend to train me right?”

“Go run some laps then,” said Salem, flipping the page.

Ugh, maybe he should just give up getting Salem to train him at this point; this man was a grouch through and through. However, as he got up to leave, he felt a twinge in his chest.

As much as he hated to admit it, he needed Salem’s help. Salem had shown him that people could discover his secrets without even trying, and if he was going to study at the grand academy, then there would no doubt be others who would be able to sniff him out.

“No.” said Keldon, “You know what Salem? I’ve had enough of not having my questions answered. Thank you for saving me but how do you expect me to walk away? Peacekeeper? Jorhund? Being able to sniff me out? You may have saved me now but I’m going to need to know how to lay low if I’m going to survive!”

For a few seconds, silence.

Salem lowered his book, staring into Keldon’s eyes. Up until now, Keldon never really had a chance to get a good look at Salem. At this point in the day, his 5 o’clock shadow had started to grow back in, accenting his sharp features. Gazing into Salem’s eyes had reminded Keldon of Bertram, the stare told a veteran’s story but where there was a playful light in Bertram’s eyes, Salem’s gaze had a rigid discipline to them.

“Then let me make a few things straight between you and I. First of all, the very fact that you have the nerve to demand me to help you is infuriating since the only reason you haven’t been skinned alive is because of me.”

Keldon cringed internally, he knew Salem had the moral high ground, but there were bigger things at stake than his pride. Whatever was going on was bigger than he was; he had to get Salem to help him somehow.

“I know Salem, I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be asking anything more of you but there’s something larger at stake here.”

“And there’s the second thing, it’s that same damn hero complex all these other forkers have,” said Salem

“What?”

“I can see it in your eyes, you already see what you’re doing as some grand act of heroism, and well I’m not buying it. You’re toying with magic that you don’t understand, and let me tell you Keldon, every magic has its price. You’re not the first to turn to forbidden arts for glory or for revenge. Something larger at stake? From the looks of it, you don’t even know how to use your own magic.” Salem said, looking out the window. “Give it up Keldon, for your own sake. Not everyone has to be a hero.”

“I’m not doing this for revenge! I just…I-I-“Keldon started to say, but he was lost for words. Salem’s words had pierced his mind, burrowing themselves in his deepest insecurities that no matter what he did, no matter what visions he received or lies he told himself, he was just playing a hero. He would never be a true hero.

Not like Luther.

Keldon slumped back into his seat defeated. As Salem glanced at him from the corners of his eyes, guilt peeking through the hard exterior of his personality.

A few minutes passed as Keldon simmered in the dark void of his own thoughts. Even the fact that Salem’s words had affected Keldon so deeply bothered him. Try as he might, the fact was, he didn’t have the courage or the charisma of Luther, the skills or character of Bertram. He may have had magic now but he didn’t even know how to use it. It was akin to being a shepherd without a flock, just an idiot with a stick.

Salem sighed, finally turning back to Keldon. “Listen, I didn’t save you for no reason. I did it because I think you’re a good kid and your heart is in the right place but as I said before, you’re running blindly into a dangerous world Keldon. I’m giving you this chance to walk it back, go back to where you came from and live an ordinary life. Gods know I would have if I had the choice.”

In all honesty, he was right. He already felt like he was way in over his head. Grand Academy? Naming Magic? It was like standing at the base of the mountain where he couldn’t even see the top. Not to mention the final calamity. It might be a little awkward but surely Bertram wouldn’t fault him for wanting to stay behind and just live a simple life right? Reading books at Mortimer’s shop, helping out around the town.

“I’m just an ordinary person copying extraordinary people,” thought Keldon. That was it. He was just an imposter. A hero’s fraud.

Then, something stirred in Keldon’s mind, something that he had etched into his heart but had chosen to forget long ago. It was something that Luther had told him.

“A hero is just someone who tries Keldon, I read it in a book once. “ echoed a voice from the back of Keldon’s mind. Luther’s. It was a memory from years ago, long before he worked at the Hissings.

“They’re just regular old people like you and me Keldon. Well, I mean sometimes they had like super-powerful magic and stuff, but they were usually just people who tried to make the world a better place.” Luther had said. “I can’t ask Tianna to do this with me, she’s still got baby Aisha to take care of. But I think we could do it, just two ordinary people trying to do extraordinary things. What have we got to lose right?” Luther had said to him.

“Two ordinary people doing extraordinary things huh?” Keldon thought. He sat upright, the dark clouds fading from his mind. Luther wasn’t able to walk the path of the hero anymore, but Keldon still could, and if he stopped.

Well, then Luther really would be dead.

He sat upright, resolve filling his eyes with fire. “I know I’m nothing special, and I’m just imitating true heroes,” said Keldon, looking into Salem’s eyes.

“I’m glad you’ve come to your sens-“ Salem said

“Hold on, I’m not finished yet,” Keldon said, surprising Salem. “All my life I envied the real heroes in my life, satisfied with just walking in their footsteps and hoping that by copying their actions, I could be a real hero too. But that’s not enough anymore, if everyone was satisfied with themselves like I was, then there wouldn’t be real heroes anymore. That’s why I need you Salem.”

He stood up; head touching the ceiling of the cabin as he awkwardly stepped in front of Salem.

“Teach me how to be a real hero,” said Keldon

The air stilled as the atmosphere grew tense. Had that been too straightforward? Maybe he should have phrased it another way.

Finally, Salem spoke.

“Don’t get me wrong pup, I’m no hero either,” said Salem.

“Then we learn together,” said Keldon sticking out his hand. “No harm in trying right?”

"Here's the problem pup, you may think you have a grasp of whatever forbidden magic you've stumbled across, but there's a reason it's illegal. I've got enough blood on my hands already. "said Salem.

"Then if you won't help me, I'll do it on my own. But with your guidance, I at least stand a fighting chance. Please Salem." pleaded Keldon. "Let me do some good in this gods-forsaken world."

Salem sighed, taking a moment to think as he looked Keldon up and down. Reluctantly, he reached out his hand and grasped Keldon's in his own.

"I never could resist the folly of youth," said Salem. "We take it slow, and you listen to every word I say, got it?"

"Deal"

And the two of them clasped hands as Keldon basked in the glory of his emotional triumph. However, as the two of them were shaking hands, a commotion erupted from the merchant caravans behind them.

Salem quickly dropped the handshake, nodding to Keldon as the two burst out of the prison cart cabin, rushing to the scene of the commotion. Beside them, Mitch, Pudge, and Ernie quickly followed suit as the three of them each summoned their own skill orbs, preparing for any possible threats.

Finally, the five of them reached a large gathering of people who stood around in a circle blocking their view. Mitch barked for the crowd to part, as they did so reluctantly, surrendering to his authority as caravan path leader.

“What happened?!” asked Mitch looking around. “Oh, euggh.”

On the forest floor laid one of the caravan workers, whose body had sliced cleanly in two as his blood stained the earth. A red-robed merchant stepped forwards, lowering his head.

“My sincere apologies Pathmaker. It seems that one of my workers had attempted to smuggle out ores of Tahlacite from the Hissings which attracted a sub-species of Aberrant.” said the red-robed merchant. “One way or another, he seems to have been adequately punished.”

“No healers?” asked Mitch grimly looking at the two halves of a former human.

“None of a high enough skill level.” said the red-robed merchant.

“Fine, bury him and carry on. Where’s the Sub-Aberrant?” asked Mitch.

“Right here sir, we disposed of it accordingly. Let me offer its corpse to you as a symbol of goodwill.” said the red-robed merchant, hoping the offering would let him off the hook.

But as the few merchant guards pulled the corpse of the sub-aberrant out from behind the caravan, there was an eerie familiarity to the composition of the body which raised hairs on Keldon’s body when suddenly it hit him.

There was no mistaking it, the head had been obliterated into a mess of carapace and goo and its body was contorted into strange shapes, but there was still the unfortunate sense of familiarity. Black chitin shell, razor-sharp legs, and long spindly limbs. No doubts about it.

This was a Devoidling.

Keldon stumbled a few steps backward, falling on his ass stammering.

“D-D-Devoidling?! Good Gods, I-It’s the fucking f-final calamity,” said Keldon when suddenly Salem whipped his head around, his eyes looking like they were about to pop out of his skull. He leaned down to Keldon, looking him in the eye with an intenseness unmatched before as he dropped his voice to a whisper.

“Where did you learn about the final calamity? And watch your language.”