Merchant Caravan

Killed by chainling

Year of the Seven Moons, 1205

Dallion stood in front of the tombstone. Over a year had passed since it had been erected from the ground and there still were no signs of wear, as if it had just been placed.

This was the single indication of what had happened to the caravan. No names were mentioned nor the number of people who had been killed. The marker didn’t include the soldiers or volunteers that had lost their lives either. Looking back, Dallion had almost been one of them.

This is where the battle took place? Nil asked.

“Not exactly.” Dallion slid his fingers along the top of the tombstone. “This is where we found the caravan.” Or what was left of it? “From here, we continue south.”

I know that it might appear a bit self-serving, but do you consider that a sound idea, dear boy? You’ve no idea where the caravan was headed or for what purpose. There are no roads south, no trade posts, and no people to ask regarding their destination.

That was true. As far as the world was concerned, there was nothing down south. Back when Dallion’s village had been established, people considered it the fringe of the empire. All the expansions seemed to be north and partially west.

Harp, Vihrogon, anything you can tell me? Dallion asked.

Sorry, the armadil shield guardian said almost instantly.

In Dallion’s experience, that meant that he knew something but wasn’t allowed to share it yet. At the same time, Harp didn’t say a word.

Will you be able to tell me at some point?

We’ll see, the guardian said with a light chuckle. As with relationships, you have to earn it.

That part of the dryad still annoyed him. Centuries of being a companion guardian had definitely shaped his way of thinking. Still, he was useful, not to mention one of the few who had lived in a past age. It was unfortunate that Dallion didn’t have a chance to have a discussion with Hannah’s cook before leaving. If there was anyone who knew about the south and was willing to discuss it, it had to be him. Maybe Dallion should have skipped by the morning before setting off. However, hindsight was always twenty-twenty.

Think of it as an adventure, the dryad said. You used to love those.

And then I grew up, Dallion replied.

In truth, he still found adventuring amusing, although he had aged a few centuries in true time since then. The current him was far more pragmatic. There was still the desire to help as much as possible, and definitely try to save the world from the poison plague, but he was no longer cursed by burning recklessness. Also, he didn’t appreciate having to do so many things at once. Back when he had just become an awakened, he treated everything like quests in a game, accepting as many as possible without any thought of how or when he’d complete them. Now the only thing that mattered was the task at hand, namely finding the last known dragon.

Taking a final look at the tombstone, Dallion walked forward, taking his first steps into the unknown.

Yo, gramps! Onda said. How about you put your writing skills to use? There’s no map for the region, so maybe you can scribble things down and sell it for some coin.

That was a rather unusual reaction coming from the guardian of Dallion’s hammer. At least, it would have been if Dallion didn’t know the exact motives behind Onda’s suggestion. Despite the nymph’s considerable skills when it came to engineering and metalwork, he was hopelessly transparent when it came to asking favors.

I’ll get you some more special metals, don’t worry, Dallion replied. Once I’m back, you’ll get to make all the fancy designs I’ve learned.

Better not break your work, gramps, the guardian nymph.

It was both amusing and disturbing that a being several millennia older than Dallion kept calling him gramps. For better or worse, he was stuck with an eternal teenager in his realm.

Up to evening, nothing particularly changed: the wilderness remained mostly the same, a bit more abundant when it came to fauna. It was small creatures mostly, living beneath the ground or in patches of vegetation that had started to appeared now and again.

Based on his Earthly knowledge, Dallion could well assume that he was entering a tropical region, suggesting he had jungles to look forward to. That would definitely be something new. The east had trees, lots and lots of trees that went up thousands of feet, however, they lacked the distinct feeling of a “fantasy jungle.” For all intents and purposes, the eastern forests Dallion had been in were more or less normal forests that had grown a lot.

There were no jungles on the first day, or on the second. Rather, the opposite—the patches of vegetation, while steadily increasing, more and more shifted to a strange combination of palm trees and cactuses. Dallion had apparently guessed that he was moving to a hotter zone, though it didn’t seem to be a jungle, but rather a desert; or rather, there was every indication that it would become like one. That was slightly confusing. Dherma was pretty much surrounded by plains and forests, giving Dallion the impression that it was a medieval European village. To have a desert start so close only went to show that when it came to the wilderness nothing could be taken for granted.

I guess that’s why they call it the wilderness, Dallion thought. Everything grew wild and seemingly out of control of the Moons.

Another two days later, Dallion decided to have some actual sleep again. Unlike last time, he did so during the day. With so many unknowns, it was better to limit the risk factors. His gear kept a lookout as before, as did the shardflies. For some reason, the creatures stubbornly refused to leave, even if Dallion could tell that they found their surroundings quite pleasant. Quite probably, that had to do with Gleam. Although she had the worldly appearance of a whip blade, she remained a shardfly by nature.

Dreams of chaotic trivialities came and went. They didn’t provide any valuable information, but Dallion felt refreshed after waking up. Having a quick bite, he then continued south.

Are you sure that the merchant caravan was heading this way? Nil asked.

What’s wrong, Nil? You aren’t usually this worried.

It’s already been half a month and you haven’t found anything of value. Two weeks more and you won’t make it back on time.

I’ll make it. If I don’t find anything within a week, I’ll head back. How does that sound?

Like a colossal waste of time.

It was becoming clear that something else worried the echo. Even now, if Dallion gave it his all, he could sprint back within a week or less. If it came to it, he could even have Lux propel him even faster. Nil was aware of those options; he had seen them done several times in the real world. And yet with each step south, he seemed more and more fidgety. Even so, he was right about one thing—there wasn’t too much time to waste. Three weeks seemed like a lot, but in the real world, where walking was the fastest mode of travel, they were nothing.

“Lux, scout on forward a bit,” Dallion said.

The kaleidervisto shot up into the air.

“Don’t do anything risky, just fly about the and—"

A loud pop filled the air as Lux propelled forward. Leveling up had done little to affect his character.

Dallion didn’t even bother to finish the sentence, continuing forward instead. To his surprise, about half a minute later the kaleidervisto was back again, stopping a few feet in the air above him.

“Lux?” Dallion asked. “What happened?”

I found it! The firebird replied. I found it! I found it!

“What did you find?” Each word was said slowly and clearly.

I found the south! Come! It’s close by!

There were many phrases that tended to frighten people. Finding the south was one of them. Dallion wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, but seeing the enthusiasm emanating from the creature, knew that it had to be important. Just to be on the safe side, he mentally prepared for a fight.

After a few hours, it turned out that “close by” didn’t exactly match Dallion’s understanding of distance. He had been walking at a fast pace non-stop and there still didn’t seem to be any indication that he was nearing anything. The terrain was flat as a pancake, stretching all the way up to the horizon.

Almost there! Lux chirped eagerly. Only a few steps more.

“Gleam, is there some illusion?” Dallion asked.

The whip blade rose up from its sheath, gently flying forward. After a few hundred feet it stopped.

Well, Gleam said. Definitely not an illusion. But something that you must check out.

That was two guardians that had acted strangely. Drawing his harpsisword, Dallion split into a dozen instances and ran forward. Soon enough he saw exactly that the guardians before him had, and it left him breathless.

“By the Seven,” he whispered, staring down.

What he thought was the horizon all this time turned out to be the end of a plateau… a very high plateau. Beyond it, several miles below, extended something else entirely. It was almost as massive as the land mass had smashed into the land, creating a canyon hundreds of times larger than the Grand Canyon.

The wonder didn’t end there. There were ruins of buildings below, almost entirely swallowed up by what could only be described as a vast desert-jungle. Palms, vines, and cacti rose from dunes of sand continuing for as far as the eye could see. There were small mountains, even what appeared to be a few rivers breaking up the yellowy-greenness.

Welcome to the fallen south, Vihrogon said.

“Has this always been here?” Dallion asked.

There was no way the Academy hadn’t discovered this. Anyone with flight would have seen it miles away. Or maybe they had. That would explain what a caravan was doing here. The cynic in Dallion also considered that the reason the Order had built a monastery so far from all known civilization might not have been to take care of a few struggling villages. But why hadn’t anyone from the empire discovered it? And why had the chainling turned away? If it had continued in that direction, it would have easily escaped the hunting party.

I really would suggest ending it here, Nil insisted again.

“Tell me why and I’ll consider it.” Dallion stood his ground.

It’s said that those who go south never come back.

“Someone must have gone back to say that.” Dallion tried to make light of the argument, but he too felt uneasy. There was an unsettling calm coming from the land below. It wasn’t void, but it was eerily close, as if something within the jungle-desert sucked in all types of emotions, transforming them into sterile calmness. “Do you think a dragon could live here?”

It’s possible, but do you want to find out that badly? Going down won’t be easy and getting back out will be outright impossible.

“Lux, can get me out,” Dallion said. “Besides, it’ll be an excuse to increase my athletic skills.”

Dallion… The echo said in a stern voice. I respect you enough to leave you to your choices, no matter how idiotic they might be at times. Just don’t make light of the situation. If you want to go down there, you’ll go down here, but don’t pretend it’s a walk in the park.

Dallion didn’t like the sound of that, but he had to admit the echo was right.

“Sorry, Nil. I didn’t expect anything of the sort.”

Moving to the edge, Dallion took a silver coin from his pouch and tossed it down. The piece of metal glinted, falling further and further until it finally disappeared in a patch of palm trees. Only a mage with flying would make it all the way down there, not without miles of rope. The edges of the canyon were almost straight, presenting a challenge even to a high-leveled awakened.

Still hesitating, Dallion looked up at the sky. While it was still day, the faint outline of a Moon was also visible in the sky: the outline of the Green Moon.

Not so subtle anymore, are you? Dallion thought, then started the long climb into the canyon.