Chapter 18

Going Home

The first thing Lykan noticed upon his awakening was the growth he had gained from his work. Unlike previously in his life, this one was different as it seemed to provide a breakdown of where and how he got certain Skill advancements.

Name Lykan Vita Race Human Class Wanderer Age 16 Attribute Base Plus Modifier Total Strength (6+5) 11 Awareness (7+5) 12 Mobility (9+5) 14 Intelligence (7+11) 18 Power (5+11) 16 Skill Base Plus Modifier Rating Universal Linguist (Maximum) Spear Mastery (Maximum) Sword Mastery Beginner (Silver) --> Adept Quick Step Beginner Universal Literacy (Maximum) Regeneration (Maximum) Meditation Novice Focus Beginner Magical Ability Base Plus Modifier Rating Energy Absorption (Maximum) Energy Sensing (Maximum) Energy Control Expert Energy Alter Adept (Gold)-> Expert

That was it, two massive tasks performed and recorded by the Gods. The first was the gold level event of clearing out the bandit camp and freeing everyone. The second was the silver fight against the ravager bear. Both were intense, but this did invite a new line of questions. Would Gold-level missions always increase Magical Abilities, or was there something more? Thinking back on what had to this point been an incredibly slow growth in his Magical Abilities, it made sense that only a Gold level mission could provoke such a change. Now he was at an even tougher point of progress for the two Abilities as the next two steps were that of a Sage and finally Maxed out. To get to those steps, would it again be one Gold mission required, or would multiple Gold missions be required? Lykan suspected that to go on from here would likely take more than one Gold level mission to complete. Though Gold missions seemed to be both grueling and rare.

It almost felt like Gold level missions were half a chance of being at the right place at the right time, as well as following a strict set of rules. Regardless of how Gold missions were assigned, it was clear that he would need to be on the lookout for such events in the future.

Lykan now felt better for why he had a sudden bout of exhaustion overtake him. The increasing of a Magical Ability was often a huge undertaking. The last time he increased his Energy Control to the Expert level, he needed to sleep then. Realizing this was key as it would help Lykan better prepare for the next time he completed a Gold-level mission. While he suspected that it might be more than one mission required to make such a progression, he didn’t want to take any chances. While he had been able to work his way through the ravager bear attack, it had been tough. By the end, he had been moving out of sheer repetition more than anything.

He realized that each time he completed one of these different colored missions, only Skills or Abilities that he used while in the event were increased. He made a mental note to see if anyone knew anything about the Wanderer Class. He especially was curious if any other Classes had different colored destinations. Right now, there was a giant Silver marker in the distance, off to the South-West of their current location. This would take them outside of the protection of the Great Forest and likely near the border lands of one of the Southern empire’s border regions.

“You are awake?” a delicate voice cooed in the language of the ancient High Wood Elves.

Hearing those words, Lykan almost thought he had another vision dream. He had a few during his stay at the High Wood Elven stronghold. The only problem was he could never remember them upon waking, but he did remember dreaming in the language of the ancients.

“Hello,” Lykan said as he opened his eyes to see the dark-skinned Elf by his side. With a shake of his head, he looked around to see that the others had all made camp on the far side of the original space used by the bandits. A quick look around showed that the time was near dawn. Most of the torches had either burned out or been put out by the different former slaves who wanted to get some much-needed sleep. It appeared that Lykan wasn’t the only one who wanted to rest after finally feeling safe from all the events.

“Did anything happen while I was asleep?” Lykan asked, still using the old tongue as Lykan wasn’t certain if the woman could speak any other language.

The woman just shook her head, then paused.

“I don’t think so, but I don’t speak their language, so it is rather hard to tell,” the woman said.

“Oh, I’m Lykan,” Lykan said while giving the appropriate male-greeting gesture of a hand role and a slight bow to the dark-skinned Elf before him.

Seeing that, Telka blushed then awkwardly tried to do a semblance of the female-greeting only to fail miserably at it. Her hand gesture stopped halfway as she tried to remember the movement. She bowed the same distance a man would. As a female, she only had to give the slightest of bows unless she wanted to show reverence or attraction toward a male.

Seeing the awkward gesture and the way her dark-skinned cheeks lit up with embarrassment, Lykan assumed she didn’t mean to say she was attracted to him. Or at least not that attracted to him.

“I…I am Telka of the Joranidan Tribe, from the lands of Kylon.”

“Kylon?” Lykan asked as he turned his head in the Easter direction and almost imagined being able to see the lands of Kylon from the other side of the world. He couldn’t. All he could see before him were the other members of the camp, trees, and a few dying torches that were still lit despite the morning rays of light shining overhead.

“Yes, it is a large continent off to the East…” she began but quickly cut herself off as she realized he was already looking in that direction. “Though I guess you already knew that.”

Lykan just smiled at the cute way the woman before her squirmed with each answer she gave. Wishing to end her embarrassment, Lykan asked his next question. “You are of the Joranidan Tribe. Does that mean you claim your lineage through the army of the great General Joranidan or from the people who followed him to Kylon?”

Hearing the words, Telka took a second to compose herself. This was the most she had used the old tongue in years, and her mind was trying to make sure she got all the nuances of the language. “So, Joranidan himself never made it to Kylon. He only got his army to the Continent of Kloropa. He died of complications from drinking the water shortly after. As to the other two questions. Everyone who landed with Joranidan referred to themselves as the tribe of Joranidan. My parents claimed to be direct descendants of the great general, but I could never verify their claims,” Telka said, her eyes up to the right as she tried to both remember how to speak the ancient tongue and to make sure she answered the questions posed correctly.

Realizing that he had asked a lot, he smiled. “Thank you…” He was about to say more but was cut off as a number of people all came at once to greet him now that he was up.

“I just wanted to say thank you again for your help,” Emora said, brandishing the backpack that had been deftly patched back together. If you got close enough to it, it was clear that something had happened to the bag. But by itself, the backpack was back together, and a quick pull showed that it could withstand some strain.

Seeing this and the bags under Emora’s eyes, Lykan realized she must have worked on it all night. He was up on his feet, accepting the offered bag before he even had a chance to realize what was happening. He wasn’t the only one who was taken aback, as everyone who was gathered took a half step back at the sudden movement of the warrior. One second he was sitting on the ground. The next, he was standing up, grasping the backpack with both hands gently.

One look at the man revealed that he was more than he would first appear.

Seeing everyone’s reaction to his sudden burst of speed, he smiled shyly.

“Uh, sorry about that,” Lykan said sheepishly as he held the bag in his hands. Then once Emora released it, he quickly put it on and did a little shake to see how it felt.

After Lykan had a chance to test his bag, he looked around to see that everyone was being awoken. Then he looked further to see that the cart that had been used to transport the prisoners, Lykan refused to ever think of them as slaves. He saw the carts were now cleaned of the bars and filth that had lined the cages and were now piled high with valuables and goods of all sorts from the camp.

“We seek your assistance,” a dark hair and skinned woman with deep blue eyes began. Lykan couldn’t help but be pulled into those blue eyes that seemed to take on a cold, calculating look the longer he peered into them.

Lykan looked around and then saw a silver location off in the distance off to the West.

“That way?” he asked, still trying to understand his new Class and what these different missions meant. He knew Silver missions were tougher than Bronze but not as tough as Gold. Though he couldn’t begin to explain the differences between the three on any real level.

Turning back, he saw the slightest bit of surprise and wonder creep over the blue eyes of the woman talking.

“Indeed. I am Dathney, and this is my sister in all things Polina,” the dark-skinned woman with enchantingly beautiful eyes said, pointing to a woman who did hold a fair resemblance to the woman speaking. The woman she indicated was taller and had less sharp features to her face. Where the one speaking was average height and lean, the one she indicated was tall and powerful. Both were beautiful in their own right, but Dathney had an air about her that made her seem more than.

“A pleasure to meet you both. I am Lykan,” Lykan said while giving the formal greeting of a male High Wood Elf. Seeing the gesture and realizing it meant he was linked to the High Wood Elves, she pressed.

“Just Lykan, no tribe?” Dathney questioned. An accusatory tone was used as if he had committed some social faux pas.

Hearing this, Lykan raised his eyebrow, genuinely impressed with the comment. Lykan just shook his head while answering, “Alas, I am but a mere human and was not found to be worthy to enter a tribe.”

This was true, as there were only two ways for an outsider to gain a tribe designation. He either needed to have been fully adopted by a tribe or married into a tribe. Both would require him to be bound to a place and unable to fulfill the Class designation he had been given by the Gods. If he had been given a stationary job or one that didn’t require constant movement, then he likely would have pressed to stay and hopefully, given enough time, earned one of the two opportunities. As it was, it was more than enough that Lykan had been recognized by the Great Forest Spirit. That was enough to get many to think of him as a High Wood Elf or at least one in standing.

With that, a few who had gathered looked confused. Here he was standing in the Great Forest, with what had appeared to be High Elven clothes. Those who could feel the flows of magic could tell that this man before them radiated the energies of the Great Forest Spirit. The Wood Elf herself even admitted as much. Yet, he was not a member of a tribe. Such nuances were beyond most to fully comprehend. A few who were gathered felt that he likely killed a High Wood Elf, stole their gear, and now went around in the forest dressed as one.

Dathney, on the other hand, knew there was more to this man before her. The more she heard, the more questions she gained and the more she wished to learn.

Her eyes glowed as they began to take in the possible futures. She scanned the group. Most were dull lines, barely visible. While others glowed with different shades of bronze, her sister Polina glowed with a deep silver. But the man before her glowed with a deep gold color that rivaled the sun. She blinked and looked away, letting her eyes get rid of the image before her. Her family had traces of High Wood Elf in them. Her great grandmother had allegedly been a full High Wood Elf with all the blessings of the Great Forest Spirit. Her grandmother, a half-breed, a woman born of a union between a male human and a female High Wood Elf, also had traces of the gift. These traces stayed throughout the matriarchal line through her mother and finally her.

Polina was a cousin born from a male who did not inherit the gifts of their mother, Dathney’s grandmother. As such, Polina could only sit by and watch as people tried to maneuver and use the Oracular powers inherent in Datheney’s line to achieve greater power, political or otherwise. That had been why they were on a caravan in the first place. They were a bargaining chip used by their former emperor to broker peace between the Azani and the Belkins empires.

Dathney had no clue how the fact that an Azani raiding party had interrupted the exchange would impact negotiations between the two countries. But Dathney had bigger fish to fry now as she set her sights on the mysterious man before her. The man who had a destiny like the sun could move with the speed and grace of a God, wielded weapons of the High Wood Elves, and could make Azani war magic completely useless in combat. This man, he clearly had changed his fate at least once.

Which begged the question, what had he done to elicit such a change in his fates? Surely she would have known about such a man existing before now? While Wanderer wasn’t an entirely new Class, those that earned such a Class were generally legendary adventurers who first made a name for themselves and then, through deeds and accomplishments, changed their fates to become a Wanderer. Yet it was clear that this man, who only just became old enough to be called a man, was born as a Wanderer. So many questions arose about the man.

She listened to the man speak, the way he carried himself with a calm, assured grace as he introduced himself to everyone. Finally, after a few minutes, Davison and Javison hitched up the horses to the cart piled high with gear and necessities before wheeling it around for everyone.

“Master Lykan,” Emora began.

“Just Lykan is fine,” Lykan said with a dismissive wave of his hand. It was clear that he was not used to such formalities of having a title like Master. Yet his actions alone showed that he was at least Expert level in the sword. The way he handled the pike showed that he was likely beyond that level with pikes. Dathney wondered why he would choose to wield a sword over the other but figured it had something to do with the legendary weapon he had been given. A legendary sword known even in human tales as a weapon of a true warrior. The tales told in Dathney’s homelands about those who wielded High Wood Elven blades were slightly different than those told in other countries. In the Azani lands, such blades and blade wielders were met with scorn and contempt. Often the great villains of history would be granted such a blade, only for the hero of a particular story to overcome both the wielder and the blade in one exceptional show of magical prowess and force. These were the stories that Dathney and Polina both grew up listening to. This was why they were shocked when the Azani shaman was easily dealt with by the lone warrior.

While Jarilos was not a weak shaman, he had not been deemed worthy enough to stay in the military and lead his own division. That was why he had left his homeland to make a name for himself.

Idly Dathney wondered what would happen if she could convince the man before her to guide her to her promised land in the Belkins empires. A small smile crept on her lips as she wondered about the outrage and scandal that would be formed. An Azani war tribe in Belkins territory running off with the Oracle. Only for her to return some time later by a male who had been blessed by the Great Forest Spirit and wielded a High Wood Elf Spirit Blade. The level of depth alone would make such a task worthwhile. Yet looking at the man before her, it was clear he would not go along with such a plan. At the very least, he would not do so right away. It seemed that their paths would diverge at the Kingdom of Sidhertha, the lands immediately to the West of here. From there, Dathney and Polina would travel South to the Belkins empire, while the man would roam free for a while.

Wanderers, she inwardly hissed. They are such trouble, she thought as she found herself like most of the other females in the cart that was being pulled along by the string of four horses. Without the cages, even with all the gear they now carried, the cart glided easily along the forest trails.

Lykan led the way while Javison drove the cart, and Davison brought up the rear. Before Dathney had too much time to focus her powers on seeing the different lines of fate, they were out of the Great Forests and into the near open fields of the wastelands. These were the off-limits areas that served as a border between each of the great empires. While people could choose to live on such land, anything that happened to them out on these territories was considered their own problem to deal with. Similarly, they were able to interact with traders, but if they halted or hindered commerce in any way, they would be dealt with harshly. Such was the way of life on the border.

Emora and her plantation had been built right at the cusp of the Sidhertha boundary, just before the line when they would no longer be protected by the soldiers of the empire would end. As Davison often put it, they were close enough to be charged for the benefit of living in the Kingdom. But far enough away that they reaped none of the protections or benefits of living in the Kingdom. That was partly why they had hired so many extra workers and farm hands, so they would have people who could be counted upon to protect their fields. This was a plan that had served them well in the past. This plan fell apart at the first sign of an Azani raiding party, as their barely trained warriors and guards were ill-equipped and ill-prepared to deal with an Azani shaman. Davison thought about this and more as they made their way out of the forest.

Only once they were out of the forest did a thought hit Davison. Does he even know where we live?

The he in this question was, of course, Lykan. Davison realized that having Lykan out in front to take care of any would-be monsters was ideal in such a situation. He knew that Javison could at least guide the wagon in the general direction. While he knew that he couldn’t do much to protect the wagon should anything appear from behind? He also knew that he was just here to help the others rest easier during this journey.

After a few miles of travel, the dark-skinned Elf got out of the cart and ran forward. A quick glance around the cart showed that she had sprinted forward but quickly stopped so that she could walk side by side with Lykan.

Seeing that a number of women first had questioning looks, until she stopped and they saw what Davison saw. The fact that she took advantage of this time to talk to the would-be hero. A smile crested Davison’s lips as he thought about what everyone was likely thinking. He saw the way others, too, wanted to get down from the cart to run up front, but they soon lost their nerve. Looking up at the women who resembled more an angry hive of bees than women who had been freed recently from captivity and enslavement, Davison just laughed to himself. He looked up and shared a glance at his wife, whose face said that she, too, was thinking much the same thing.

That boy better watch out, lest he makes one or more of these women very angry at him.

“Grr!” Jema, the fiery redhead, growled audibly. Though most of her sounds were drowned out by the grinding of the wheels over the road, it was still audible. This was the thief that had been mentioned by Dathney. Davison, too, had been aware of her and indicated to his wife and son to be wary of her through their sign language that they had developed as a family working over fields. Right now, with a simple glance and a tip of his head toward the woman, he made sure Enora was aware. Enora nodded back in confirmation.

While Davison didn’t have an Analyze Skill or any Skill that was as advanced enough to give him the name, Class, and race of an individual like Dathney had. He did have the general Scan Skill, which helped him to easily identify threats. This Skill saved his entire family’s life, as they knew to give in almost immediately. Thanks to that Skill and early warning, they were taken prisoner and able to survive together this far.

Then last night after the rescue, he made a scan of the area again and was surprised to see that Jema and one other were listed as dangerous. The boy, Lykan, too could be considered a threat, likely the greatest threat he had seen with his Skill. But he glowed a golden color, letting Davison know that he was not hostile. This was why it was concerning that two others had been noted as hostile from those who were saved. That was why Davison pointed both out to his family and now kept an eye on Jema, the one who seemed to be the most volatile of the two.