Chapter 17

The Oracle

“What should we do with him?”

“Can we trust him?”

The women who had been freed not too long ago all sat at the far end of the encampment, close to the horses and far enough away from the sleeping warrior that their words might not be overheard. Almost everyone has gathered around, save for Emora, who was diligently using the time to fix the ruined backpack of her savior. She had taken to using scraps of leather that were inside the pack, as well as scraps from the recently killed ravager bear to help with the patching process. Her goal was to make the new leather blend in almost effortlessly with the tear lines created by the ravager bear.

Around Emora were her husband Davison and son Javison. Emora by Class was a seamstress, which previously meant she was the repair woman of the small plantation she ran with her husband and son. They had more help, but all were either killed during the bandit raid on their plantation or fled before the raiders could get them.

At first, Emora cursed those who fled, thinking that if they had stayed, they might have stood a chance. It wasn’t until Lykan had shown up and managed to use the Azani shaman’s powers against his own people that Emora realized how wrong she had been. Now she was glad some managed to flee in time.

Her hands stitched effortlessly, using strips of leather cut by her husband as the thread that she so delicately wove into the different strips of leather, trying to get them to hold up under the pressures of traveling.

“If we are going to do something, we should do it now while he is asleep,” one said. This was Jema, the fiery redhead who cut, scratched, and kicked at any hand that was directed her way. She still had a number of bruises covering her body, which only helped her avoid the leering eye of the men who would have sold her off as a slave.

Hearing Jema, Emora put her foot down.

“Enough!” Emora snapped as she stared up at the women from her needlework. “You get one taste of freedom and rather than thanking the man who saved you. You plan on what? Slitting his throat like he was some common thief?”

“What if he tries to capture us again?” Jema argued, worry and constant streams of fear causing her mind to be near the breaking point.

“If he would have done that, then why did he free us, all of us,” Emora hissed vehemently, waving her dagger she used to punch holes in the leather for emphasis.

Hearing that Jema deflated as all the rage she had been using and holding onto over the past few weeks to keep her going was suddenly gone.

Jema wasn’t the only one who deflated. A number of others also deflated at that. They turned to see that only one person sat kneeling next to Lykan, their savior.

“Why aren’t you there with him? He is one of yours after all?” Davison asked Kalana, the lone Wood Elf, who was in this alternate camp of individuals. The Wood Elf looked at the two at the far end of camp. She had tried to speak to the tanned Elf in question, but she was clearly from far away. Even her speech was old, it reminded her of the old tongue, but it had changed ever so slightly that other than a few common greetings, everything she said was incomprehensible. And the boy, well male, he clearly wasn’t an Elf.

“That boy is not an Elf. I don’t know what he is or how he has what he has, but he is no Elf. At least no Elf that I have ever seen…” she trailed off, then continued, “As for the actual Elf over there, her name is Telka, and beyond that, I don’t know. Though the two seem to speak the same language, so maybe he came for her?”

With that, everyone turned to look at the two. While they seemed to be physically close, the two just seemed too odd.

“No. There was no recognition in their eyes. She had been staring at him, but he clearly had no clue who she was,” Dathney spoke. She had been one of the first to be freed from the cage and generally seemed to be best at gauging people’s body language and posture.

Then as if remembering something, Dathney turned to Jema as well. “Speaking of which, you too stared at him as if he was familiar in some way. Why is that?”

Suddenly all eyes were on Jema. With the weight of their stares, she began to fidget nervously.

Then sighing, she answered, or at least she tried to.

“All right, so he does seem to glow with the life of the forest in him. He glows like he is a friend of the family, even though I have never seen him before,” she said, trying to describe in words what she noticed when she first laid eyes on the boy. She, of course, was speaking to the great blessing provided by the Wood Elf High Priestess as a parting gift. This was the same mark that told that he was a friend to all Elves and to be trusted as such.

“Honestly, I have only heard stories about one with a universal blessing of friendship like that. They were ways of identifying the first High Elves from amongst those who broke away. Then you add in his sword and clothing, and he is like a relic of the past suddenly coming to life. Honestly, when I first saw him, I thought I was looking at a ghost of the past, an avenging avatar of the Great Forest Spirit made manifest. The fact that he hasn’t disappeared even now comes to me as a shock,” Jema said, her eyes flowing back to the still sleeping form of Lykan.

“My scan says that he is named Lykan Vita, a human with the Class of Wanderer. Though to be honest, I have never heard of that Class before,” Dathney said, her dark hair fluttering as she shook her head in confusion.

“A wanderer? Are you sure your Analysis Skill is accurate?” Davison asked.

“Yes, Farmer. I can read the Classes of everyone around me, even the Thieves Class,” Dathney said.

“Thief?” Everyone asked as they suddenly looked around at everyone in confusion.

“Relax, we are all brothers and sisters of this travesty,” Dathney said, keeping her eyes focused so not to give away who the thief was.

While no one noticed, Jema let out a slight sigh of relief as she realized her Class would not be outed. Though she did make a point to be a little more on guard around Dathney. She told herself that she wouldn’t steal anything, at least not until they got to civilization.

“Cook, why don’t you and the boy prepare some of the meat that the ravager bear provided,” Dathney continued, pointing first to Polina, the dark-haired and skinned woman who had remained silent to this point. Hearing the words, Polina nodded and gestured for the boy to come and help her. Dathney, for her part, looked like she could have been sisters with Polina. But Dathney would clearly have been the prettier of the two.

Dathney composed herself with an air of superiority and had the look of someone who was used to being listened to. When Dathney’s caravan was raided, only she and Polina were spared. While Polina was a cook, she was so much more to the Oracle Dathney. To Dathney, Polina was a cook, bodyguard, soldier, and above all else, a friend.

Dathney used that previous bond between the two of them to help the rest of the process flow smoothly. Things would go easier if they followed Dathney’s lead. That was now and would always be her mantra. This was why, when originally posed with the option to run or be captured, Dathney had forced Polina to be captured with her. She saw the clear lines of fate. A great destiny awaited her if she suffered through a bit of captivity.

The bit of captivity she did suffer was almost more than she could handle. But each day they were held captive, the glowing fate of destiny glowed ever brighter. Until today destiny shone to her like a beacon. That was why she had gotten the others to help her collect the various items from around the camp.

Dathney even watched how Jema pocketed the second key that would have been invaluable in releasing the two men. Still, she saw that their destiny was to be freed, so she did not comment. The role of the Oracle was tough and always conditional. She was both weak and powerful all at once. She could see where the future would lead, but not always how the different pieces of the puzzle fit together. Not commenting on the key might or might not help in the long run. As it did not change anyone’s immediate future, Dathney had no care to comment on the act. Still, had the men been stuck for longer than was acceptable, Dathney might have had to act. Fortunately, all turned out exactly as it should. In fact, things were slightly better now as they now had a wagon that could be used to carry all the gear they gained from the bandits.

Staring at the boy, Dathney could see a bright destiny before him. It was clear that he was favored by the heavens, though this change only seemed to have come relatively recently, within the last seven years of his life. Before that, his path had been bleak at best. A destiny forger, she thought as she tried to see where the fates of the Wanderer before her would go next.

It was clear that this Class had been designed specifically for people who would dare to change their own destinies and succeed in some way or another. Often the Class was given to children of noble households who were the fourth or fifth son and unable to make a name for themselves. Those who received this Class rarely amounted to much more than being lumped in with adventurers in the like. But the true power of the Wanderer Class lay in their Abilities to perceive lines of fate. That was where Dathney felt her own future drawn to his, as they shared that very line of fate.

Could he be the one? Dathney thought but then shook her head. It was far too soon for those thoughts. Instead, she focused on the here and now. Their goal was to get from here and close to civilization as quickly as possible. While the boy had bought them time with his killing of the ravager bear, still greater threats loomed in this forest that she did not wish to anger or alert to their presence. Nodding to herself that her idea was correct, she began.

“We move out at daybreak when the young Wanderer awakens,” Dathney said.

Her tone was so resolute that everyone followed. Not that anyone truly had objections to her plans. Then realizing there was still one loose end, she turned to Kalana. “You are free to go. I know your people are no doubt waiting for you to return.

Kalana looked at Dathney for a second, her mouth open wide as if in shock. Then she quickly shook her head.

“No, I want to see this through,” Kalana said with determination in her eyes.

Dathney watched her eyes for a moment, trying to see if that resolution flickered or wavered in the slightest. After a few seconds, Dathney nodded her approval.

“So be it. Come, let's get the metal bars off of the wagon and place all of what we have gathered on the carts. We will split up our findings once we are away from this cursed camp and out of these woods,” Dathney said as she went over with Davison and a few others to remove the metal bars from the frame of the cart.