Two Years Later

Tears of frustration burned in Caertonn's eyes as he stood in the barn doorway, surveying his fields. Last night there had been rows of corn, tomatoes, and beans, mounds of watermelon and squash. Today they were shriveled, desiccated, black with disease. A sickly cloud of green smoke erupted from a pepper, making a squeaking fart.

That was it, then, the final straw. There was nothing to eat and nothing to sell, other than that rusting sword and that book Gilghest had given him long ago. Even if he found buyers, what then? He was cursed.

He sighed, took a few deep breaths, and left his barn. He crossed the stony dirt road to his neighbor's land, the Milgrews, where he often shared meals. Mr. and Mrs. Milgrew were elderly and needed work done on their property. On some days he had cut more vegetation back or hauled hay on their land more than he had on his own. Her cooking was worth it, though, and he never complained.

The smell of frying bacon filled his nostrils from the mailbox. His mouth watered as he walked up the pathway that had an artful rock border and expertly tended beds of violets and hyacinths. At least his touch hadn't ruined someone else's land.

Caertonn knocked on the porch door and opened it with a squeak. He'd been meaning to get to that. "Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Milgrew," he said, taking off his boots.

"Come in, Caertonn," Mr. Milgrew said. "The missus is almost finished with breakfast."

Mr. Milgrew sat at the wooden table in the kitchen, reading the newspaper as he always did. He was a man who, once long ago, had the distinguishing features of a dashing gentleman. Now, however, the size of his nose and ears promised to soon overthrow the authority of his neck and sail away with his head. His wife, plump and yet somehow also dainty, had large eyes and high arched eyebrows, as if she were constantly surprised at the state of her husband's features. Mrs. Milgrew was at the stove. She looked back at Caertonn, down at his feet, and gave him gracious smile.

"I was just telling the missus that there's been a spike in road banditry. Says so here in the paper."

Mrs. Milgrew tsked. "It's hard enough making a living these days, trying to sell your wares, but having to worry about someone stealing your goods and your money...Makes you want to shutter your windows and stay in your house!"

"Mmm. Glad I just fix clocks. Not worth it to steal my tools and I always keep my wages in my sock. Good luck to them finding my coins!"

"Um, Mr. and Mrs. Milgrew?"

"Yes, Caertonn, dear?" Mrs. Milgrew asked.

"I think...I think it's time for me to go on my quest now."

Mr. Milgrew looked up from his paper. Mrs. Milgrew turned from the stove and walked to the table, sliding Caertonn's fried egg and bacon onto his plate. "Dear, if you think it's time to go, then it's time to go."

"But, what will you do about your land and your chickens?"

"We'll get our good-for-nothing sons to do the work," Mr. Milgrew said. "This worked out well for us, I think, but there's no reason why I can't yank their ears and finally get them to do the work they were doing before you started helping."

"So, you don't need me?"

"Well, dear," Mrs. Milgrew said, sitting down at the table. "We appreciate your work and your company, but there's no reason why you have to stay here. You're almost eighteen, yes? It's high time you moved on, found a girl to settle down with, maybe did something other than farming. Or perhaps not. Maybe you can return after you're done sowing your oats."

"It's not right that a young man shoulder all the responsibility of his farm by himself. It speaks highly of your character, but boys should be out adventuring, slumming in taverns, wenching, and meeting new people."

Mrs. Milgrew cleared her throat loudly.

"Okay, perhaps not wenching, then."

She cleared her throat once more.

"Or slumming in taverns, but you know what I mean. You're a good boy, Caertonn, but you'll be fine if you take to the roads and slay a dragon or two. It's time for you to live a little."

Caertonn chewed on his bacon, not really savoring the food. He'd always felt needed at the Milgrews, but apparently that wasn't the case. Had he hung behind for so long because he thought they couldn't survive without him? Should he have put the farm aside long ago to do what Gilghest had told him he was destined to do?

"I suppose I'll just leave, then," he said.

"Not before you say goodbye to everyone!" Mrs. Milgrew said. "Don't be rude about it."

"I guess you're right. Is there anything you need done before I go?"

The Milgrews looked at each other, sharing some sort of eye language that couples can only attain though decades of marriage and through trial and embarrassing error. "Um, if you could, dear," Mrs. Milgrew said, "pick some flowers for the house?"

"Will the daisies and dandelions out back be all right?"

"No! No, um," she laughed. "The red flowers by the trees."

"Okay," he said, standing. "Thank you for breakfast. I'll be right back."

The Milgrews lived on several acres of land. The red flowers by the the trees were a full field back, past rows and rows of flowers Mrs. Milgrew sold in the market for a little extra coin. Caertonn had to carefully make his way over a mud patch, through some brambles, and past the burrow of a particularly ornery badger. No one visited this area often, so it was ripe for the picking.

He spent some time choosing the best flowers and returned as quickly as he could. The Milgrews were seated at their kitchen table, smiling as they waited for him, a few items in the center. "Sit, son," Mr. Milgrew said.

Caertonn handed the bouquet to Mrs. Milgrew and took a seat.

"My grandfather was an adventurer," Mr. Milgrew said. "I don't know if I ever mentioned that to you. He did fairly well, you know. Cleared a few dungeons, completed a few quests. After a while it got tiring and he met my grandmother. He settled down. But, he always had a trunk of items stored away that I'd play with as a kid. He gave them to me to pass on to my sons, should any of them want to be adventurers. It doesn't seem likely. So, I'd like you to have whatever you want."

Caertonn's eyes widened as he looked in the center of the table. "Seriously? You'd let me have his things?"

"They're not doing us any good in our attic," Mrs. Milgrew said. "I'd rather use the trunk for something else. As is, it's just collecting dust."

"Thank you!" he said. He ran to each and hugged them. "You don't know how much this means to me!"

"You've done a lot for us, son. We know that meals didn't really cover the cost of all the hard work you've done, so take this gear. You may need to rank into it; I think my grandfather was around twenty or so when he finished."

"That's okay. I'll get there quickly." He held up the canvas pack and opened the front pocket, which was full of useful things like twine, flint and tinder, and bandages. Inside the main compartment were gloves that fit as well as a scarf and a hat, none rotted or moth-eaten.

There was plenty of space to put the full set of leather clothes with beautiful stitching and resisted bands. It felt heavier than it should. When he felt inside, he realized it was actually very hard metal sandwiched between two layers of leather.

"He was a ranger," Mr. Milgrew said. "I'd give you his bow and quiver, but he sold that a long time ago."

"This is more than enough. Thank you so much." He hugged both of them once more.

"Now, do us proud, son. Come by once in a while."

"I will."

With a lighter step, he went back to his home. Even though the ranger outfit would give him no benefits (in fact, it would be better to wear a bed sheet, since that would give him a bonus to sleep), he was so pleased to have a suit of armor that he put it on. And while he was there, it only made sense to take what he had been meant to take, so he spent a few minutes figuring out how to buckle the scabbard to his waist. He shoved the Book of Yu'ai on top of the rest of the clothes, scraped together his remaining coins, and set off down the road.

He walked the two miles to pass through the land of the other farming families of Fallamari, some who had pulled buckets of water from the river and put the fire out two years prior. Caertonn waved when an occasional neighbor would stop working his field and take a quick break to wipe sweat from his brow, watching him walk by with slack-jawed curiosity.

Some, though, didn't need to be curious to be slack-jawed. Two boys moved out onto the road, making up for brains with brawn by at least threefold. Where their brows should flatten was more brow, creating a pretty impressive ski jump of flesh that would only be thwarted in gravity by their lower jaws. "Hey, Gawk. Look who's going to market today."

"Oh, it's the Golden Boy. Hey, Golden Boy."

"Hey, Yawp," Caertonn said, not slowing to converse.

"Yawp, that's a nice pack," the larger one said to the other. They were both pretty large, but one was extra large and tended to have more primal needs, like hunger and envy. "And he has a sword. I want it."

"Yeah, give it here, Golden Boy."

"Okay," Caertonn said with a smirk, "if one of you two could help me take the scabbard off. It's kind of tricky and the clasp is a bit rusty, so you might have to fiddle around with it for a while."

They stared for a few moments. "Well, give me the pack, then."

"Sure," Caertonn said, very slowly taking off the pack. "I have to be extra careful because I'm taking some of the Milgrews' eggs to market. One false move and the whole bag is covered in yolks."

He spent a full minute taking off one strap before Gawk said, "Whatever. I didn't want it anyway. What I do want is a knife. Buy a knife from McCaulvey's and bring it here. If you do it fast, I'll beat you up." Yawp grunted lowly in his ear, which might have been his way of whispering. "I won't beat you up. Won't. But, you're going to want to be quick because I don't want to wait here all day."

Caertonn heard a familiar four-note chime from his bag that he had heard a few times over the years. He put the strap back on and continued walking.

"You have to come back this way," Gawk said. "We'll be waiting for you."

"I hope not," Caertonn said and continued walking.

The center of Fallamari was marked with blue cobblestones that surrounded a tall oak tree. As it was an old town, the good people had found it easier to let saplings grow and many of the businesses were shaded by the branches of apple, maple, and birch trees. It came alive in autumn, though some gullible sap was usually honored with the task of keeping the town's well free of leaves. Gawk and Yawp had been trading the job for the last six years.

Since Caertonn had spent most of his time on his farm, he hadn't didn't know many people in town as well as he should. Still, it was expected that he say goodbye to at least the mayor, a burly man with sausage fingers he liked to drape with rings and poke in opponent's chest. At Caertonn's quiet announcement, he put his hand around Caertonn's shoulder, gave him a rambling speech about

responsibility and making the world a better place, and was off to speak with his next constituent. He hadn't expected much.

There was really only one person Caertonn wanted to see. Daeryn was the local baker, always happy, kind, and interested in what was going on in Caertonn's life. He'd never treated him like a child, despite an age gap between them of six or eight years. And he was a pretty damn good cook, too.

The door bells jingled as he entered the shop. Caertonn felt a sharp pain in his calf and pulled his leg up, twisting to see what was hurting him. "Your money or your life," Bannock said, his wooden sword sticking out from the table next to the door.

"Your ankles or your wrists," he answered, putting his pack down.

"That's not fair," Bannock said, crawling out from the table. "You have to pick one."

"Fine," he said, "wrist it is." He grabbed Bannock's arm and lifted him up before clamping down on his other wrist. Before the boy could say anything, Caertonn began swinging him around in a circle. Shrieks of laughter filled the bakery.

"More!" Bannock yelled.

"Who's terrorizing my little one?" a voice from the back asked.

"It's Curt, Duddy!"

"Ah, Curt!" Daeryn said as he came out from the back. "Crack open a window, I know how flushed you get from the ovens."

Caertonn put Bannock down, ruffling his hair as he turned to look at Daeryn. His long, dark hair was pulled back in a tail, though a few strands had come loose. His deep green eyes twinkled as he gave Caertonn a warm smile. "Sorry I haven't been around recently."

"Nonsense. I know how busy you are on your farm. Raspberry strudel?"

"Yes, please. I, uh, wanted to stop in and say 'goodbye' before I leave."

"Leave?" Daeryn asked, his eyebrows furrowing. "You're headed to Nomager to sell something?"

"No. I've decided to finally take on my quest."

Daeryn's eyebrows shot up. "But, you've always said you'd never do it."

"I know."

"What happened?" he asked, leaning against the counter.

The last two years came to mind, of his failures, of the deaths of animals he considered friends. He'd buried Amelia not two weeks ago. "It's just time to go," he said, finally.

"If you say it's time, it's time. You'll stay, though, and let us send you off proper. I'll make some cookies and we'll invite some of the villagers you're closer with."

"Um, sure," Caertonn said, surprised by this.

"Good. I'll have Bannock fetch some people. Why don't you finish buying supplies?"

He heard the chimes again. "That sounds like a good idea. Thank you."

Once he had left the bakery, Caertonn unslung his pack and opened it. There was nothing inside but the items the Milgrews had given him and the book. He twisted his mouth to one side. Every other book he had read had been silent, his imagination the only thing bringing any vitality to the parchment and ink. Was this book different?

He'd have to look at it at some point. He pulled the Book of Yu'ai out, unbuckled the binding, and opened to the first page, the old wood creaking slightly at the movement. There were just two pages. The first had his name and a drawing of himself that moved, and was filled with bars, words, diamonds, and numbers above a blank square. The second side had a long list of commands with check marks after them. At the top were two that looked different from the rest. "Buy the following supplies at the general store" the first said with a green border around the box next to it. The second said "Buy a knife from McCaulvey's armory and return it to Gawk" with a little clock next to it. There was no border around the box.

Gilghest had said things would make sense if he read it. This only seemed like complicated mathematics to him, with bars and formulae and instructions. He closed the book gently and returned it to his pack.

Caertonn was supposed to be shopping. The fact was that he had little money in which to buy things. He had some credit with certain shopkeepers, but this was generally because he and his family had given charity to a few vendors who sold harder-to-sell wares. Now that he was leaving, though, he didn't mind closing accounts and taking whatever they could spare. He made his way back to the bakery with quite a few non-suit items, clothing like an undershirt that didn't add to his armor, and odds and ends like leather oil and turkey feathers.

A crowd hovered around the shop. Some men recognized him and laid congenial hands on his shoulders, wishing him luck. He thanked them, stopping to acknowledge their manners, wondering if it was that, actual felicitations, or the promise that the smell of free cookies and slices of bread wafted throughout the village.

He was almost at the door when a soft, delicate hand shoved him against the building. "You're leaving?"

"Tennedi. Hi, yes, I was going to set out soon..." His words faltered when he saw her beautiful blue eyes were red-rimmed and puffy.

"You promised me! You said you were going to ask me to marry you when you were old enough!"

"I, uh, Tennedi, that was five years ago."

"I waited for you!"

"But, I didn't even court you. I was busy on my farm. Tennedi," he said, taking her hand, "we haven't even spoken since my family died. I thought you might have found someone else, like Eluka." He looked over at the boy grinding his teeth at the scene, who stopped in surprise once his name was mentioned.

"But I don't want Eluka, I want you!" she said through clenched teeth.

Caertonn blinked. "I have to go on my quest. Gilghest told me I had to leave years ago and I've stalled for too long."

Her lip quivered. "I'll wait for you," she said, looking far away and tragic.

"You don't have to do that. In fact, I strongly encourage you not to."

"You don't like me. You think I'm not as fair as the other women you will meet. I know I can't offer what the fancy ladies in Metraft can, but I promise I would be a good wife for you!"

By this time, most of those waiting for their chocolate chip cookies (because why would anyone wait for an oatmeal raisin?) had turned to observe this spectacle. The crowd was quiet save for the teeth gnashing of Eluka. Caertonn was perplexed at what Tennedi wanted. He guessed it wasn't something his current line of speech was going to take him. And then he remembered a sage piece of advice his father had given him the last time Caertonn had landed in a troubling situation. Whenever in doubt, plagiarize.

"Tennedi, sweet, sweet Tennedi," he said, mimicking the protagonist of a play he'd once seen. "There was a time I thought you and I would be together forever. But, alas, there are things greater than love in this world. I cannot deny my calling any longer. I must leave and leave alone."

She peeked up at him. "It's not another woman?"

"It is most definitely not another woman."

"I am desirable to you?"

"You are a breathtaking dawn on a spring morning, full of hope and sunshine and...um...color."

"I can come with you," she offered.

"No, no, no!" he said and softened his tone when she startled. "I mean, it's far too dangerous. I am at the beginning of my journey and need training. It would break my heart if anything were to happen to you."

"But-"

"No, my dear Tennedi," he said, kissing her hand. "I am a man who cannot take a bride now. I cannot think of these things while my duty awaits me." He spoke more loudly. "So, while it pains me to say it, I think you should move on and find another man who will treat you with kindness and compassion." He met Eluka's eyes and gestured frantically for him to move towards her. "Yes, someone good looking in a rugged way who can give you discounts at his father's armory, should you ever want a, uh, girdle that helps with sewing. Ah, Eluka! You seem to fit the bill."

Tennedi turned to look at him, then back at Caertonn. "You won't be upset?"

"Sweet Tennedi, it will pain me to think of you. I will pick a flower each day and throw its petals into the wind in somber remembrance of what could have been. But, it will bring me happiness knowing you are happy."

And with that, he slipped past the crowd and entered the bakery with a sigh of relief.

"Nicely done," Daeryn said with a grin. "I packed you some things I was able to scrounge around." He handed him a small burlap sack of cheeses, grains, nuts, and other provisions. "How good is your Assembly skill?"

"Uh, fine, I suppose?" he answered, not sure what Daeryn meant.

"Thought so. Well, I know you need to leave tonight, otherwise I'd show you a few recipes. Try to buy a manual in Nomager, if they have one."

"I will."

Daeryn came around the counter and gave Caertonn a hug. "I'll miss you. Take care of yourself and come back as soon as possible. Maybe stay out of bakeries," he said, smiling as he moved away. "You can't take the heat well!"

"Uh, yeah," he said, smiling. "Thank you, Daeryn. I'll come back and visit."

And so, without much fanfare from the villagers (it had been the smell of free cookies after all), Caertonn walked away from Fallamari. After a mile, he reached the signpost at the crossroads. When he'd needed to sell things at the market at Nomager, he'd turn left towards the coast. Once, when no one in Nomager would buy the rare magical item the family had been storing for years, he'd come back to the sign post and gone what would be right to him in that moment, to the city of Metraft. This seemed like the logical choice for this grand journey he was supposedly on, a brimming metropolis with hundreds of thousands of people, guilds, hundreds of shops, and a half-dozen dungeons.

But, he honestly had no idea. Sighing, he unstrapped his pack and pulled out the book again, opening it to the four pages. He slid past the first, since nothing had changed, and looked at the second. The command about retrieving a knife for Gawk was now gray and the timer read "0:00". There was a check mark next to the one about shopping for items and a "+20 EP".

The third page was entitled "Main Quest". Yes, perhaps he should have looked at this before he left the village, though at least he hadn't waited until he was lost in the woods somewhere. He skimmed the page before turning it and, lo, there was a map. A finely detailed map that even showed a golden glow where he had come from. A gold dot blinked at the crossroads. He shielded his eyes and looked up, wondering how the book could possibly know what the land looked like where he was in that moment. All he saw above were eagles.

He flipped back to the previous page and read it slowly. His family could spare him and his siblings during the colder months, so he had gone to school from the last harvest of apples, root vegetables, and grapes until the fields needed to be sown in early spring. At seventeen, almost eighteen, he could read, but not very well. So, it took him some time before he was able to parse out what he was instructed to do, which was create a group of adventurers. Along the way there were a few other important things, but mainly he needed to find these others, and the first was Kinenhael Goldenleaf.

His father had taught him there was a time and place for prejudice. When you met a man or monster who was coming straight for you with something sharp, it was best to assume they were an enemy and to prepare yourself for some hurt. When you met a man or monster as equals, it was best to reserve judgment until things changed. Still, his shoulders slumped a little. Kinenhael Goldenleaf was almost certainly an elven name. And elves were, well, a little in the state of thinking they were superior. They tended to turn their noses up at many things, and people, and made situations more difficult than they should be.

They were fucking rude.

And, sure enough, he looked again at the map and saw an arrow pointing north towards the land of Elder Ring. Wonderful.

A bee buzzed near his head and he swatted it away. The sun was already bathing in the horizon, painting the road a golden hue that reminded him of the peanut butter cookies Daeryn made for Rose Day in the summer. His stomach growled. Even though he wasn't far from town, it was time to think about setting up camp.

There was a problem. Caertonn had no idea how assemble a tent, nor start a fire. He would try, he told himself, and if it didn't work, he'd eat cheese and nuts for dinner and sleep under the stars.

He found a clearing not too far from the road, three chimes ringing in the air as he put his pack down. The tent was far easier to put up than he was expecting. The fire was, in fact, a pile of sticks and spent matches by the time Caertonn gave up and went to sleep.

The moon was full and high when he awoke, his hackles raised. He waited for a few moments, then heard what he feared he had earlier. Slowly, he moved back the flaps of the tent and peered outside.

Standing about fifteen feet in front of him was a wolf.