We have been traveling for a few hours now to, well the old man would not say. Instead, he thoroughly explained why immortality was not only a bad thing, but not possible. Something about how changing ourselves in this way means that we are actually using up a certain amount of power which brings us closer to madness. He did however insinuate that we can extend our lives to a degree. I guess this is how he stays so lively in his old age. Basically, any change to the body can result to a certain amount of, percentage of the body being used of the max? I don’t know, either he didn’t explain it well or I didn’t understand, or just an overload of information. He got tired of trying to explain it, and then just said it will be a lesson for another day. He did however ask if I wished to pursue this path. Well, it was this, or a laborer and chase after my brother without the knowledge to protect myself. One thing I am happy about, before leaving I got to see a ragged looking Cal before going. Whatever this Deadman’s Cry is it looks tiring, and painful.

We are well into the night now, I have no idea where we are going, the Councilman is now steering and guiding the horses. They seem displeased with the current position they find themselves but had no choice in the matter as well. Onward we went. Every time I ask a question about this newly found power, no magic, he would either ignore it or say that is a lesson for later. I know we were traveling northeast for a bit, but now that I can't see well in the darkness, I was lost. Thinking about it, I started imagining other Twisted out in the darkness watching us, watching me. Then it dawned on me, what if they were there? How could this old man protect us? We were inside the barrier, and he was not using any of the changes to his body that the others had. He looked perfectly normal; how could he fight one of those things at this state. I started to get smaller, stay low and out of site. I knew this would not help, but it made me feel better.

Another hour passed, then we started hitting windy turns and trees were all about, their branches reaching for us. These had no leaves, curious since it was not normal for the season. I guess they died, but the more we went the more I could tell this was not the truth. Unless hundreds of trees were dead, or they were different. Councilman Jorgonzilrye seemed not to care, so I tried to not think about it. Actually, with less vegetation, leaves and such there was less of a chance for a Twisted to catch us unaware.

After a bit we came across a rock face that had an elaborate archway. The bronze door that was in place had many intricate designs, things that I could not make certain what they were. From rune like scribbles, to people in poses revering a being that was not seen in the door. What was most striking was the size, nearly five meters tall it was gigantic. Impossible to open without the aid of at least twelve men.

“Take over.” Was all the instruction I got before the old looking man jumped out and strode over to easily, without a grunt or a measure of struggle, he pushed open the doors. Guiding the wagon in only had he shut them, and then darkness. Each moment draining my sanity as I waited. Only seconds passed but the reigns were grabbed from my hand. The cart moved, what was even stranger, the horses didn't sound like they were in displeasure of the situation. Instead, they neighed and nickered in delight. This must be their home.

Long moments, then light. Only meters away under another door I could see it. Before getting to the door, it swung open, and a scrawny looking man appeared. He almost looked like a skeleton, long face a hooked nose and balding. He had suck-en eyes and a perpetual frown. He looked worse for wear and seemed proud to show it. “Wayward Jorgonzilrye, a pleasure as always. I shall have a bath prepared if you would like.” Looking towards me he corrected, “Make those two baths. If I may?” Without waiting for a nod by the old man he returned and started preparing for us. Kind of rude, but helpful? I guess? Well, a bath does sound amazing, food better. The rations we received were atrocious and I could only eat a few bites before putting it away. No idea how the old man ate his portion, and the rest of mine.

“He is the Steward of this Wayward station, sadly he answers to no one and takes no for a yes when it comes to pampering. It is better to go with what he says, otherwise it will take longer, and he still gets his way.”

“He called you a Wayward, are you not retired? Well, guess not anymore, but would he not know that?”

“In his eyes, a Wayward is a more important role than Councilman. It is another way he shows his displeasure at my choice to retire.”

“Oh, I had not caught his name.”

Looking at the Councilman, or Wayward? Both? Does he relinquish his place on the council if he comes out of retirement? No, others have their professions still. Which is the higher standing? I believe Councilman is, they make all the decisions for the village. He looked uncertain however to answer my question, but decided he had to “He is uhh, he has no name.”

That made no sense, this man looked to be in his 50’s, had and has a profession. I let the Wayward know my thoughts. No, the Councilman, I will need to rectify this confusion when the chance presents itself again.

“He,” the old man took a long pause as he guided the horses in after unhitching them from the wagon. “He is not from the village. They have different customs from our own, and well he got rid of his name when he entered our services.”

Another village? From outside? He grew up with the one and ten chance of dying as a child and yet here he is. “He is? Where? How? Why? No, what is-”

“Due time, you will be staying here for some time, and you will learn all that not only myself, but he can teach. He may be a steward, but he lived out there for many years. I have been out there for years at a time, and yet his knowledge of the world makes my experiences seem that of a child telling a story of going to the market in comparison.”

I was intrigued and excited. Hoping off the wagon I followed behind the horses, a mistake that thankfully I did not need to learn at this time. Horses don’t like things walking behind them as we all know and will buck and even kill men. Looking at the horses, they looked unnerved, and I slowed down to let them get further ahead, not enough space to walk beside them in comfort. The old man left the horses in a couple stalls off to one side and continued saying that the steward would tend to them while our baths were underway.

Soon after we were led to our rooms, when I entered mine there was a wooden tub waiting with scalding hot water. I had to wait a few minutes before I could even attempt to get in. If I decided to get in too soon, I would instantly blister. It was almost as if the steward wanted to boil me alive. I smiled as I thought about it, me a main dish in a lobster stew. Guess we could call it the nameless stew. I chuckled and finally found the temperature pleasurable. I took a long-time bathing and only got out when there was a call from the door telling me food has been prepared.

Drying myself off, I found fresh clothes on the bed. Looking around I finally noticed the furnishing and what the room had to offer. I was so entranced with the tub everything else had not mattered. There was a simple bed but having the comfiest mattress I had ever seen. There were also candles at every corner, a fireplace, basic but not many rooms would house one for a single individual. The wardrobe and dressers were very well made and polished to a shine. How does one make wood reflect my face? It had to be magic, nothing can be this clean. The floor was made of stone, but instead of being cold standing on, it was warm. How had I not noticed this earlier? There was a door to another room and after some investigation it was another room with its own furnishings. It had a desk, cabinets and other essentials for any kind of desk work.

With a growl of frustration from my innards, I decided that exploring the room or rooms was done for now and I needed to get some food in my stomach, or it would make it very clear that I would not enjoy the rest of my evening. I hurriedly put on the clothes, to find them a perfect fit. Just a lucky guess. Walking out I did not see anyone, following the path to the main entrance the steward rounded the corner and escorted me to the dining room. There Councilman Jorgonzilrye waited patiently with his plate untouched. Feeling bad for making him wait, I apologized and sat down.

“Now that we are clean of grime, let us eat.” As we ate, the steward stood off to the side dishing out more portions of food as needed. He refilled drinks, cleaned up messes and even tried feeding me once. I felt like, well a child. No one in the village receives this kind of treatment unless they could not handle things for themselves. I kept quiet however, reminding myself different customs, whatever that entailed.

After we finished our meal the old man spoke, “Now, when we start your training, it will take one year before I even consider you leaving the boundary other than for training purposes. Any remarks?”

One year, one year that my brother gets further and further away from me. A year behind, and his trail would be non-existent. Well, not like I knew where his trail was anyway. I was essentially running in a random direction chasing ghosts when Cal found me. Still, one year was too long. Looking at the old man, not the weathered Wayward, his look was one that would take any answer other than yes as a means to ship me off to the laborers and he would go after my brother alone. Would that not be for the best though? He needed help now, not later. Would waiting now and allowing this old man to pursue him be better? No, if Councilman Jorgonzilrye truly thought that would work, he would have done it. I have seen the care he had for brother Tarvan. Only one clear answer to this, “None. When do we start?”

“Tomorrow.”