After the attack, Dara and Eli gathered their belongings and moved down to the Lodge’s first floor to await the dawn. Ute told them the gates would open once Lackar’s light hit the town’s walls so they wouldn’t have to wait too long. Eli hadn’t spent much time in the Lodge’s main room yesterday as Eko had been quick to hand them off, and Dara had nixed any idea of a dinner out on the town. She thought the chance of someone recognizing them with his stupid display near the gate and creating a bigger issue for them to deal with was too great to risk. Given the formerly invisible ninja guy currently being cleaned off the floorboards upstairs, he couldn’t exactly argue with her arguments about unknown dangers.

The first floor wasn’t like he had imagined, but the place wasn’t exactly a fantasy inn either with its long couches, beautifully painted artwork, and a lovely stone flooring inset with what looked like colored glass in intricate patterns. Two large windows at the front, shut in the pre-dawn, would let in plenty of sunlight as the day progressed. There was a small eatery, exclusive for the Lodge’s guests, through a swinging door near the back of the room. Ute had shown them the place yesterday during their tour, and if last night's dinner was any indication, they served some excellent food for their guests.

He and Dara sat together on one plush brown leather couch with other guests waiting at different tables and chairs in the large open room. Near the front door were three men that had their heads together as they talked quietly with a few bulging bags in a pile beside their chairs. They’d already looked over at him and Dara a few times and should have faded into the background with how ordinary they looked, but the bright orange pin each had near their left collars caught his eye.

The youngest man looked to be the leader, judging by the way the two older men were acting by carefully listening to any of his words. The two kept their eyes roving around the room as if looking for threats while their young companion continued talking and chuckling without a seeming care in the world. If Eli had to guess, he’d think it was a young rich kid with a couple of guards, or maybe they’d be retainers in this world.

He leaned close to Dara as he whispered, “Any idea who those guys are?” Something about the strangers made him feel nervous – almost dirty or oily, and he'd have checked his wallet if he’d had one.

Dara glanced at him before her eyes took in the men near the door. “Let’s talk once we’re outside Herria, please.”

He shrugged. “Huh, okay.”

A few minutes later, Ute came out of the back to open up for the day and nodded to the party at the door as they picked up their different bags. The men got up, the younger guy shooting a quick glance at Dara and Eli, then nodded to Ute and left.

Dara and Eli stood as Ute approached their couch. “Are you sure I can’t pay for damages? I still feel bad,” Eli offered one more time.

Ute’s face flushed, his bushy eyes furrowing above his sudden scowl. Dara stepped forward and offered Ute a shallow bow before throwing a warning glance at Eli. “Gifted Tal is new to the Pantheon Alliance. He means no insult, Head Ute.”

“Oh, an Outlander?” Ute said, his eyebrows popping up with surprise. The frown vanished, and he simply nodded to her, though his eyes returned to study Eli for a few moments more.

My big mouth. Different culture, different rules.

With a final goodbye to Ute, they left the Lodge. The town was quiet in the early grey morning, with only a few people already going about their business. Based on their clothing, he guessed they mainly were laborers or something similar, as none were in the fancy duds he’d seen some sporting yesterday. Instead, most were in the same pants nearly everyone wore regardless of gender, plus simple long-sleeved shirts or coats without the fancy sparkly stuff sewn in. A few people caught his eye, some even taller than him, with a height approaching two and a half meters tall. The rest of their bodies were thick to match, and they looked like human battering rams, which spoke of tremendous strength to move such massive bodies even at a walking pace. He’d seen similar folks pulling the most enormous wagons yesterday, which probably meant they had a ready supply of jobs. Still, he couldn’t imagine it was the most pleasurable work.

Ignoring anyone else, Dara led the way to the west gate, and the two arrived just as the sun’s rays struck the top of the wooden wall. A moment later, a small group of men and women in the same outfits as the guards from yesterday came out of the gatehouse. The woman in charge only needed to gesture before her people pulled on the large metal handles set into the heavy doors that slowly creaked open in the early morning air. This group didn’t pay attention to him or Dara but seemed more interested in getting the gate open so most could return to the relative comforts of their gatehouse, leaving two unfortunate members to wave travelers through.

Eli nodded briefly to both before he and Dara walked out through the gate. Outside, the stone road headed generally west between a small set of hills and a smattering of wooden structures built along the south side. They looked rough and unpainted compared to those within the walls and not exactly structurally sound. A few were even leaning slightly to the side as if a decent breeze would knock over a wall or three while light grey smoke rose from most of them, evidence that the hovels were occupied.

“Hey, Dara, let’s chat,” Eli said, leading them away from the structures and towards a small hill on the north side of the road with a few trees gracing the crest. Almost a morning ritual by this point, a blue blanket appeared in his hands as they ascended a narrow dirt trail that led to the top, and Dara smiled in thanks as she wrapped it around her shoulders. They didn’t say anything as they walked, listening to the morning sounds as they made their way up the slope. Behind them in the town, a few loud voices carried well in the morning air, but they were the kinds of sounds he associated with early morning workers. How many times back home had he been woken up by the garbage trucks, gardeners, or others whose jobs had them up at ungodly hours?

As they reached the top, he turned to look back at his first taste of Lurran civilization. The beautiful temple he’d admired yesterday was mostly a dark grey form in the distance, only its top floor bright with the sun’s rays. The light of dawn hadn’t quite reached much of the town, where some still slumbered in shadows and darkness, while elsewhere, the soft glowing lights of homes and businesses greeted the day.

He activated Manasight, and the world lit up differently as little colored clusters of lights were revealed in the air around them. The bright illumination suddenly emanating from the temple snatched at his attention, pulling his eyes away from the sun’s slow creeping march into the town. The center of the temple, the plants growing on the terraces, and the very air near the temple had so much energy and life, with each section lit up with its own colored energy, though green and blue dominated. Even the different stone and thin pillar tiers glowed with their own radiance as they held up impossibly massive stone blocks. From his new angle, he couldn’t understand how the structure didn’t collapse, as if it somehow ignored physics or any other pesky laws of the universe. It was almost how the Gardens of Babylon looked in his imagination back when he’d been a kid reading about the ancient wonders. It was almost like a dream, seeing something so magical in the real world. What were the main temples like if this was in a frontier town?

Next to him, Dara cleared her throat. “Eli?” her voice was quiet, barely carrying over the bird calls in the scattered trees around them.

“Hmmm?” he responded distractedly, still watching the beautiful wonder of a waking city before them.

“Thank you for saving me earlier.”

“Of course,” he said, smiling as he turned, but then frowned at her serious expression. She fidgeted, both hands twisting one end of the blanket around her shoulders. “What is it?”

“I also wanted to apologize,” she said, her knuckles white from the death grip they had on the blanket around her shoulders.

“Huh?” he replied, confused by her words.

“That man’s name was Oyett.” She must have seen his confusion and gestured back at the town. “The body, I recognized him. I told you that I hadn’t seen my uncle since I was little, but he and my father still exchanged letters and other messages. Well, Oyett was a Gifted sworn to my uncle and was usually the one carrying the messages, so I saw him at home at least a dozen times over the years.” Her tight grip relaxed, pulling a leather tie from her belt’s hidden pocket with a little metal bauble attached to one end. She held it up, and the little gem inside lit up like sparkly fire in the dawn’s light. “This belonged to him, and he used it to braid that big beard of his – I’d recognize it anywhere.”

“Huh, does the thing have some significance?” he asked, the glowing light within it bright to his Manasight.

“I don’t know,” Dara replied, putting it away in her belt again. “Then there’s this,” she continued, and her hand disappeared within her blanket, where she fiddled with something along the side of her outfit. A moment later, her hand reemerged with a thin weapon she held out to him.

“What the hell?” he slowly said, turning the thin sheathed weapon in his hands that was obviously a dagger but was incredibly thin. He drew it slowly to reveal a metal blade, and a bit of the morning light reflected off the mirror-like material. The hilt was made from the same metal and slightly warm in his hands, likely from Dara’s body heat. Still, the tiny crossguard was a darker metal and matched the color of the dyed leather sheath.

“It’s a sertala,” Dara said, her eyes locked on the weapon in his hand. “Some Commons use a cheaper version called a spiker, but made from base metals.”

“Kind of a strange weapon, but I guess it makes sense if Oyett was an assassin. Good thing he’s dead now,” Eli muttered. He finally shrugged and sheathed the weapon, holding it out to Dara. “You keep it since I imagine it might be better than that belt knife of yours.”

“You don’t understand,” she said, slowly shaking her head and refusing to take it back while giving the weapon a fearful look. “That’s not just a simple blade, but a true sertala with metal that’s been treated with a secret substance and used specifically for killing Gifted. Once stabbed, wounds bleed profusely, and only the strongest healers can treat the injuries. You should keep it safe in that magical bracelet of yours, and we can give it to my father later. He’ll definitely want to see it.”

“Huh, you’re the expert,” he replied, and the weapon vanished.

“That blade reveals his intentions. I don’t understand why, but my uncle wants to kill me.”

He was surprised by the sudden tears in her words, but before he could say anything, she dropped to her knees and bowed forward until her head almost touched the grass underfoot.

“You saved me again, and I acknowledge my blood debt before the Oververse!” She sat back on her heels but dropped her arms to hang limp, assuming a posture strangely reminiscent of the beat-up guards outside the gate yesterday. The air around her was suddenly inundated with swirling lights, followed by something like a camera flash. At the same time, he felt a tiny thump in his chest, much like when he used his power, which was strange since he hadn’t done anything.

“Crap. I really wish you hadn’t done that, Dara.” Unnerved by her sudden emotional outpouring and the sensation in his chest, he reached down to pull her back up to stand. He idly noted that she’d soaked the front of her pants from the damp grass but shook the errant thought away as he focused on his companion. “Dara, look at me,” he said quietly. Her dark brown eyes, wet with unshed tears, met his. “First of all, please don’t insult me by keeping score. That’s kind of the deal with friendship; we don’t need to keep score. Well, to me, at least.” He smiled as she frowned up at him.

“Friends?” she asked.

“After all we’ve been through, are you saying we aren’t friends? If it helps, I consider you my friend.”

She gave him a small, fragile smile as her eyes searched for something in his expression as if to find some greater truth. “I’d like that, Eli. I would like a friend.” She nodded as a stray tear finally broke free to fall, leaving a small trail down her cheek.

He pulled her in for a hug, her body stiff at first but slowly thawing as her arms went around his waist. He squeezed for a moment, amused as it surprised a slight cough of air from her. Pulling back, he placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes, giving her a big grin while his heart soared. “Great! So as my friend, you don’t need to worry about owing me. Consider it a weird quirk of mine if that makes you feel better. Okay?”

“Okay,” Dara said as her sadness retreated before his stupid smile, and she nodded a moment later. “I’ll try. The spirits know you already have your fair share of quirks, so what’s one more?”

“Thanks, I guess,” he responded with dripping sarcasm. He dropped his arms while Dara wiped her eyes, but they were both smiling now. “Now that we’ve confirmed our friendship, we should also talk about the timing of these events. What I mean is, I’m not sure your uncle knows you’re here, or even if he does, I don’t think he sent that guy earlier.” Seeing her confused look and budding argument, he continued before she could interrupt. “Think about it: We just showed up in Herria yesterday, and you said before that your uncle is in Bishal, which is days away, right? So maybe your uncle knows through some magical means, but isn’t it also possible he’d sent out his people all over? Maybe this dead guy just happened to be here?”

She shook her head slowly, “I don’t know, Eli. I don’t even know why my uncle is doing this.”

He pounced on the words, “Exactly! We don’t know, so we can only plan based on what we know or suspect and adjust as needed. We don’t have enough information right now, so we’ll stick with the plan and get you home. Once that’s done, we can think about our next steps. You with me?”

“Maybe,” she slowly responded as if weighing his words and unsure if she entirely agreed.

“Hey, you don’t have to agree yet, but lets at least defer any blame until we know more. And in the spirit of knowing more, what can you tell me about those three guys from the Lodge this morning?” he asked and gestured back toward the dirt trail that led down to the stone road. “Maybe tell me as we go?”

“The acolytes?” Dara asked in return, stepping back onto the trail.

“I dunno, the three guys with the orange pins at their necks?”

“Oh, orange within a circle of white? Then they were Hesh’s people, likely here running messages to the local temple,” she answered somewhat dismissively.

“Huh, I wonder why they gave me the heeby-jeebies,” he muttered, remembering the oily feeling when he’d looked at them. He looked over, distracted by his friend’s sudden laughter.

“Heeby-jeebies?” she asked with disbelief around a wide smile. “What a ridiculous-sounding word, but what does it mean?”

With a matching smile, he described the word and what it meant while the thick atmosphere of minutes ago was left in the dust kicked up as they walked down the hill.

***

Abaden stumbled through the forest, his legs heavy, yet he had to be careful with his steps as the thick undergrowth had already tripped him many times when his attention wandered. His hands were a mess, all cut up as he’d fought through the forest. It seemed like there were always more vines, bushes, or other plants that blocked his chosen direction as if growing up whenever he looked away – not that there was any real path as he had to carve his own way through the thick growth. He frequently stopped, his energy flagging, yet no matter how far he traveled, he couldn’t find the trail. Desperate for sleep, he couldn’t find much rest; anytime he tried, the animals would seemingly go mad and grow louder. They wouldn’t stop until he got up to continue, but he managed to snatch a little rest in tiny moments when his body gave out on him. Still, he couldn’t have slept for more than a few hours over the last few days or however long he’d been stuck in these spirits’ damned woods.

He tried to lick his lips but winced in pain as his swollen tongue rubbed roughly against the sensitive skin. It was like a great cosmic joke to be surrounded by such lush plants yet not partake since he didn’t know which were edible. It was almost like he’d fallen into another world with new plants growing around him, so different from the ones along the trail.

His stomach growled again, a constant reminder of his hunger. He didn’t have a lot of options since he’d lost his bow and belt knife when the demon attacked days ago. If only he’d kept his weapons, he might have been able to hunt since he’d seen a few small animals and birds within the trees nearby. Unfortunately, they always ran before he could throw a few of the tiny rocks he’d collected over the past couple of days. It didn’t stop him from trying anyway, desperate for any food at this point and almost beyond caring if it was edible. Still, it was a wasted effort, as the stones always missed.

He’d been fortunate enough to find something to eat a day or two ago, but he wasn’t sure how long it had been since the horrific days and nights blurred together under the thick canopy. He wasn’t even sure what he’d eaten, but he had a brief mental image of a creature hiding under two big rotten logs with far too many legs for his comfort. Its hard black outer shell had been a challenge to break, but his hunger and desperation had fueled a burst of energy, and he’d repeatedly bashed the creature with one of his collected rocks. The thing had struggled to survive, its short legs digging into Abaden’s arms deep enough to draw blood, but he’d finally crushed its head, and it had gone limp in death. His reward was the warm, soft, chewy wet flesh that had tasted horrific, like warm rotten eggs. He hadn’t cared, his sobbing breaths ragged, as he’d ripped off pieces with his bare hands and then used his teeth to cut away bite-sized morsels before swallowing the goopy mess. His stomach had tried to rebel a few times during his meal, but he’d won the fight to keep it down and continued on his journey once he’d picked off every piece of meat from within the thing’s shell.

He shook away the memory and stumbled upon a small muddy stream lazily meandering through the dark woods. Feeling that his luck had finally turned, he sprawled to his knees in mud as he plunged his head under. The cold water felt like it washed away some of his desperation as he felt hope for the first time in days. Leaning back onto his knees, he carefully cupped his hands and drank slowly, aware of the dangers of too much water after going so long without. With slow and careful sips, he imagined his body desperately sucking in the moisture as he slowly relaxed.

He just needed to find the trail again – the actual one, not the one he’d been blazing for the last few days. Setting off again, he pushed his way through the thick growth but only made it a short distance before his legs snagged on a low branch and crashed hard to the ground. His fall kicked up a small cloud of leaves and dust as he coughed weakly from his back, staring up at the thick coverage overhead. He was so tired that he lay there for a bit as the damned animals and bugs continued their neverending calls. Wanting nothing more than to sleep, he let his eyes droop closed as the soft soil under him brought up warm memories of the simple bed he’d shared with his family when he was little.

There was a rush of sound and a rumbling in the earth underfoot, reminding him of the massive flash flood that had almost drowned his village, and then sudden laughter cackled in the distance. It started low and ominous but moved slowly into a high-pitched screech as the forest echoed with the sound. All at once, the animal noises stopped, and there was only stillness. For the first time in days, there was silence in the forest.

“Who dares enter Eld Forest?” The deep voice came as if from far away, yet it echoed around him as if many different people were suddenly asking him the same question. “Who dares?” sounded again, but in a distinctly higher feminine tone.

“Who?” Abaden croaked as he found his voice after days of disuse. He looked up into the canopy, not seeing anything but more leaves and branches. There was nothing dangerous nearby – everywhere he looked was just more forest.

“Is it you?” a deep animalistic voice asked in a whisper as if just over Abaden’s shoulder.

His head whipped around, his eyes darting from tree to tree, but there was nothing, only trees everywhere, and he stumbled back to his feet. All hope of sleep was forgotten as he forced his way through the woods, desperate to find the trail. He’d be safe on the trail.