Exhausted, Parcival stopped, the cape hugged his back from sweat and dust. He took it off then shook the dust and draped it over an arm. It sure was a long way to the next town. His body dripped with sweat making the padding in the chest piece itch. He set the heavy statue on the grass.

The midday sun was unrelenting, why did it have to be so hot? He plopped down on a stump, and then pulled off a boot to rub his aching blister-covered feet. It was bad, awful, black luck is what it was. The goddess statue cracking like that! Father will be disappointed as this gift was to help smooth over the new treaty with the Magistrate in the city of city Belllain.

He picked up the statue running his fingers over the cracks, now worthless. There had to be away. Ah. Just have to buy a new one, of course, the next town might have a goddess shrine.

A woman screamed; echoed far off ahead shattered the quiet of the forest; a second one came—it was closer now—ringing louder with each second.

Parcival stood and repressed a shout.

No, better wait and see.

A pounding of hoofs nearby.

Over there?

Half a breath later, a twig snapped. A tall young elfin woman stepped out of the forest on the side of the path, breathing hard. She glanced about. The sun reflected off her silky brown skin, her eyes a striking green large with clear fear. Her leather armor pierced throughout and was apt to fall apart at any moment. She held her left side with a hand; blood trickled over her long fingers.

The woman swerved at him her cloudy lush ringlets lashed around her face, like a pale blue floating spirit; she looked at him her long ears twitched while she scanned the area.

The seconds that passed dragged on. She tried to run past him, almost in a blur. He held his arms out.

"Let me pass!" Her breath quickened to tiny harsh pulls.

"You're injured! Come with me. I can help!" Hope this isn't a mistake.

"Be quiet, human; they'll hear you," she said. Her tone danced with a musical quality.

There was shouting of men on horseback in the woods on both sides.

"Look, I appreciate the gesture but I don't need your help at this time. Now move away." Her tone was slow and gentle now, and her eyes and face softened a fraction.

He stepped away. "Good luck to you."

She ran leaping away and streaked down the path. Admiring her slender shape for a moment as she melted away into the forest like a wisp of smoke. Reading of the Elvin in tales was quite different from the reality; the drawings were flawed and a poor substitute. And not enough mentions of their strength.

Behind, two brash soldiers thrashed clumsily through the underbrush on horseback at the edge of the path. Need to think of something.

A guard of pale complexion like vomited milk pointed at him. "Has a vulgar Elven woman ran by here?"

So crass. He resisted a sudden urge to pull the insolent man off the saddle and throttle him.

"Whom do think you are ordering?" His tone deepened and flashed of fire. The man must be mad and looking for death. His eyes narrowed.

He adjusted the emblem crest on his shoulder with slow and exaggerated movements. Father had it specially made so there would be no confusion among the foreigners, most knew what the emblems ment. Those that didn't, blead out.

"You will address me with respect or not at all." How dare he. His eyelid twitched. Stay calm. Can't gather information if he's dead. The lout.

The guard's lids become slits. "I see. You're one of them. So be it. I don't need an army of Storm Knights interfering."

He stood up straighter.

"I saw no one." No one more vulgar than you, that is. He kept his hand on top of his scabbard. The woman appeared more frightened out of her wits than a troublemaker.

"If I find out that you have lied, even Olenus and the knights won't be able to protect you." The man's eye lines tightened. Pulling back the horse, he spat on the ground. His face shadowed.

The other men raced off following behind the lead guard.

He sprinted toward the town to reach it before sunset. Grandmother's tales of the creatures that came out at night brought images of piles of gleaming bones to mind. A pack of wolfren howled. He hurried along the path.

Hours later on the road, he found a ride from a traveling merchant.

Two gentle beasts pulled it forward. Graluvs, not many of them left nowadays.

They had tall stick-like legs and round bodies on top; the fur that covered the torso was a soft fluffy white on the one on the left. The young had fur of calico with spotted blotches stood seven feet tall and weaved in and out of the adult's legs as they played. When it rolled over another large rock, the wagon jolted and stood on two wheels.

He gripped the sides and hung on. The wagon whopped back down a second later. The old man grabbed his straw hat before it flew away in the updraft.

"Must you have that three-legged walking stick going over every rock you see? That must be the twentieth time today."

His back itched; he tried reaching the itchy spot but was vexed by the hard armor. Should have bought something more mandible.

The grizzled man leaned over the seat. "Don't get snippy at me young man, considering that you are getting a free ride."

"Sorry."

"As I said before, we will be at the town sometime tomorrow, so get some rest." The old man reached over to the Graluv and patted it as it turned along the path.

The beasts that pulled the cart became spooked from a pack of running wild wholly Acrnohairs. The trip had taken longer than planned; he did not arrive at the town until midday.

"By the way, take care the bandits around here like to ambush travelers following along the road to the city." He pointed to several carved runes.

"Thank you for your concern, but I have a protective ward carved into my cart. Catch ya around. I need to head off soon to the market city of Luna-jer."

"Fair travels be with you and may the sun shine bright!" He waved at him, then walked further up to the town gate.

In the town, he wiped the sweat dripping from his brow due to the heat. Stopping for a moment under the refreshing shade of a tree near the entrance. His stomach growled for the second time that day. He sucked on his tongue the dry air made it fat and dry.-Now, where was the inn? That's assuming there is one. A woman exited her house nearby; she tripped over a rock near him and stumbled. Stinking, rank water splashed him soaking him to the skin.

The armor he held clattered to the ground. Picking it up, he brushed soaking wet hair away from his cheek with a free hand.

"Dang it, woman; watch what you are doing!"

"Ooh, apologies, I didn't realize you was there." The woman cringed.

He bit his tongue. Yelling at her wouldn't fix anything.

"It is all right."

He picked the armor up and continued toward the Inn. Shouldn't have snapped at her, need to stop daydreaming. Inside a small inn, he plopped down on the nearest stool.

"So, what's your name?" An innkeeper washed the counter with a rag and looked up as he entered.

He averted his gaze from the mass of facial scars and pretend to fiddle with his cloak. "Sir Parcival of the third district of Luna-jer."

The man's lip twitched and he grinned. He looked to be a veteran of the last war.

"I'm Ulpar." Ulpar's eyebrows arched up and his nose crinkled.

"Young man, if you be served here, you bathe first! We'll talk later." He whistled through a deep scar that split the edge of his lip.

"Yes of course." Parcival pulled at the wet padded under armor; the water weighed it and it kept sliding down and leaned over placing the breastplate on the floor.

"Take him upstairs and draw him a bath; he stinks!" Uplar waved to a barmaid nearby.

"Come on, the sooner you're clean, the better." Her hips moved to and fro with that feminine gait only women possessed.

Up to the second floor, a room had a large white-footed bathtub. She dumped cold water into it, then tapped a flat gray heat stone that turned bright red. She picked it up wrapped it in a thick cloth. The cloth started to smoke; she tossed it into the tub. After several seconds, steam rose from the tub.

She swirled in some soap agitating it into a froth of bubbles. As she walked out the door, she handed a long-handled scrub brush to him.

"When you're clean, come down and eat sir. Chamber pot," she said.

She closed the door.

"Sure, thanks." He grumbled.

After, he found his clothing folded on a bench in the hallway. She must have washed and cleaned it. That was nice. After he dressed, he went downstairs.

Ulpar smiled at him. "Well, now what were we talking about before you 'perfumed' my inn? You mention being a journeyman Paladin. How long before train' in the intermediate grounds?"

"Not much longer." More like another five years. "And, your name?" He tapped the counter absent-mindedly.

Ulpar filled a mug with ale and pushed it toward him. "Ulpar. Now, do you want something to eat?"

"No thank you, keep the ale coming. It's been a long day." Dropping ten coins on the counter, Ulpar quickly scooped them up.

After several hours, his vision blurry, he stumbled up the stairs slid into the bed falling asleep.

Early the next morning the sunlight filled the room with a golden hue. After dressing, he left a few coins near the washbasin. On his way outside, a middle-class man playing the violin coaxed a soothing tone from it. It was nice to see a little culture out here in this mud bucket of a town.

"You are very good; here is a pence for you."

He took the gold coins, dropping them into his untied pouch, then bowed with arms outstretched. "Thank you, sir."

The warm sun ah, it felt good. The scorching heat had finally eased off. He stretched his arms going up and down the narrow streets. That was too generous they didn't qualify as a street, more like trails scuffed down between the houses and shacks by the daily to and fro of the villager's feet.

Children ran through the streets playing a relaxed version of Orb Ringer. One of the more energetic children overshot the target with his red orb; it missed its intended mark, the green orb that floated in midair between all of them. It zipped free and stopped near his nose. He held his hands out in front of him and controlled the orb sending it back into the boy's hands.

The boy jumped up to grab it. "Thanks, mister!"

"Be more careful next time."

"Yea." The boy ran off with his friends in the small town park.

Children. He groaned. To have a wife, maybe a so? Far too soon maybe next year. To start up an alchemist shop and learn new potions, or research the fabled Elixir of Life. Yet the idea wasn't so bad; it's just that there was plenty of time. Could be worse, could have been born as a royal. At least making the attempt would stop Father's incessant lectures about carrying on the bloodline.

Wandering around the town, he found a modest pavilion in the middle of the town. On it several lutes and violin players.

Among them was, a woman dressed in a transparent outfit that hinted at her lithe form. Her wispy veils shimmered and flowed around her as she swayed and leaped to the alacrity music. She did an effortless somersault and landed lightly on her feet. The crowd standing before the pavilion clapped and whistled at her. She flashed a smile and leaped into the air. She then landed on a wooden bench, tilted it up with her feet, and balanced on its end on the pads of her feet.

"Well done!" He tossed in a few silver.

She bowed.

The crowd clapped louder and the most affluent spectators tossed gold coins into a large bowl in front of the pavilion. The sun lowered in the sky, casting shadows marking the end of the day. The entertainers bowed, then packed up their things and wandered off.

Back to the Inn, the homes had candles and lamps that gave a warm pale effulgent glow. After a quick supper of roasted vegetables, he climbed into the soft bed. An image broke his peaceful thoughts. Hope she's well, poor creature. Crickets chirped, filling the night air with their song. He snuffed out the candles and watched the smoke as it yielded to the window draft.