Across Eternity: Book 2

 

 

ACROSS

ETERNITY

BOOK 2

HANNIBAL

NORTH

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product

of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons,

living or dead, events, locales is entirely coincidental.

 

Text Copyright © 2021 Hannibal North

Cover Art Copyright © 2021 Hannibal North

 

All rights reserved.

 

ISBN: 9798451418024

Imprint: Independently published

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Table of Contents

 

Salt of the Earth                              5

Snarl                                          34

Offkey                                          57

Nightlife                                    90

Tension                                          108

Ripples                                          138

Pulling Teeth                              160

Struggle                                    185

One by One                                    212

Requiem                                    233

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Salt of the Earth

 

 

 

 

 

A flash of light, a deafening crack, and the loss of balance shocked Noah without warning. A lightning bolt fell from a cloudless sky and struck the ground directly in front of him, spooking his horse and sending it rearing onto its hind legs with a fearful scream. He tried to calm the creature, but it was all he could do to keep from being thrown off. 

His vision blurred from the light, and he couldn’t tell up from down with the way his horse was jerking around. He reassumed as much control as possible and pulled to the left with the reins. Now given a direction to unleash its panic, the horse galloped across the rocky stream Noah had been following. 

Moments later, five men emerged from the dense forest flanking the path's right side. Bandits, he had already encountered them multiple times since leaving Clive. Under different circumstances, he might have taken them on, but between his disorientation and his horse’s mortality, fleeing was the better option.

One of the men, wearing a filthy robe, aimed his hand at Noah and shouted a spell. A golden hologram of floating runes appeared around his hand, and he fired a burst of grape-sized spheres of light like buckshot. Most hit nothing but air, though one struck Noah in the back. He jerked in pain, feeling like he had just been branded. It was Noah’s first time experiencing thunder magic, and, in all likelihood, far from his last.

His horse reached the opposite bank, and he turned it to run parallel to the river. Noah’s vision returned, and he dared a look back at the men. One of them was aiming with a bow and arrow. Noah leaned to the side, trying to make himself less of a target, but the arrow still drilled into his shoulder, and he nearly blacked out. He raised himself in the saddle, no longer stunned, though racked with pain and stuck with an unusable arm.

Noah reached around and felt his back, wincing when he found the place where the spell hit him. He wasn’t bleeding, so he could ignore the wound for now. As for the arrow, he couldn’t remove it while on the move like this. Nevertheless, the horse’s fear drove it at a good pace, and Noah steered it back and forth across the creek, maneuvering past fallen trees and boulders. Five miles from the scene, he finally allowed his horse to slow and returned to the road. 

Bandits only seemed to chase their prey when they had horses, and even then, a commoner like Noah wouldn’t be worth the trouble. Regardless, he now kept a constant watch on the path behind him. He was rarely caught in such a trap, as he could generally see an ambush coming from a mile away. Those guys had some skill, even if they lacked the follow-through to pursue him. 

The attack was just another reminder that this was a violent, unpredictable world ruled by strength and magic. Minus the injuries of the lifestyle, Noah liked it this way. It gave him something he had never seen before and endless new possibilities to discover. As for the dangers, well, he had plenty of experience when it came to fighting and surviving. Getting hit with spells and arrows was not his idea of a good time, but at least it was more interesting than regular bullets. 

The day was getting late, and he needed to set up camp. He directed his horse off the road and towards an upheaved slab of bedrock in the distance. He led it through the woods, its reins in one hand and his sword in the other. 

He reached the rocky crag with just a few hours of daylight left. Millions of years ago, the nearby mountain was born and caused the upheaval of the landscape, offering not a cave, so much as a giant stone lean-to. 

Either way, it was a roof over his head, and nothing could sneak up on him from behind. The bones of past inhabitants and their meals littered the ground. Many animals, including goblins, had used this spot as their den, but nothing seemed fresh enough to warrant concern. Still, he raked the area clean and set up camp.

This was the safest time he could expect to get, and Noah’s wounds desperately needed attention. He washed his hands and knife with some high-proof liquor he had bought a while ago for just this occasion. The arrow hadn’t pierced his shoulder all the way, so he couldn’t just snap off the arrowhead and yank out the shaft. Instead, he had to dig it out with his knife, slowly, with blood streaming down his arm and the pain giving him spasms. Perhaps it was better to be hit with bullets rather than arrows, after all.

He eventually removed the arrow and poured half a healing potion onto the wound. These potions could mend flesh and bone with no less than miraculous speed, but they were dangerous if used too frequently. However, this wasn’t an injury he could afford to have in the wild.

Next, he focused on his back and used alcohol to clean what seemed to be a second-degree burn. He couldn’t see it, only feel the wound with his fingers. It was like a spoonful of black powder had been set off on his back. Thunder spells were no joke; just that one minor hit had been like a jab from a cattle prod, and simply sanitizing the wound took up the last of his pain tolerance. 

He drew two small vials from within his ring, both filled with ointments of different colors. The first syrupy layer would moisturize and soothe the area, and the creamy second layer would keep it sterile. The last step was wrapping the bandages, helping to ease the throbbing in his back.

Tired as he was, there was work to be done. He unloaded everything off the horse, so it could rest and feed on a sack of oats. A repurposed metal helmet served as a drinking bowl, though the horse had drunk plenty at the creek. With what light he still had, Noah gathered spruce boughs to use as bedding and thorny bushes and bristle plants for protection. They wouldn’t stop a determined opponent, but it would hopefully be enough to hinder them and help conceal the light of his campfire.

While gathering firewood, he met his dinner. A lone stag was flitting between the trees nearby. It seemed aware of Noah and was trying to leave the area without drawing more attention. Its moves were calm, and the way it stepped, its hooves on the forest floor, made no sound. Noah aimed with his bow, staring at his prize with an arrow between them. It was crooked, a cheap piece of scrap with a full quiver more on his back. It was the best he could get in the last town. Noah released the string as the deer turned away. The arrow slipped in under the ribcage and pierced a lung.

The deer’s heart had stopped by the time Noah reached it. He worked fast, carving off the pieces he wanted and removing as much of the pelt as he could before he lost the light. This had become second nature to him. Once he had collected everything, he dragged the carcass far from his campsite. Most of the remains were left behind, considered offensive in an ordinary world but ignored in this one. After all, a magic circle would summon one sometime soon. 

All animals not born through physical mating were conjured out of mana, keeping a fixed population for every species. One was considered lucky to see a creature appear from the light, unless it ended up being a monster. Besides, that body would likely be gone within a day or two.

Night overtook the forest, save for the cliff's shadow, where transient sparks were glowing like stars. The striking of flint and steel finally brought forth flames from some birch bark shavings, and soon, a steady campfire was burning. Noah set up a tripod over the fire with three sticks and dangled a metal pot about the size of a coffee can. It was full of water from the creek, filtered through a handmade life straw. 

As Noah waited for the water to boil, he prepared the meat. What wasn’t smoked over the fire was turned into stew. He added some dried vegetables bought in town and some herbs and mushrooms for extra flavor. Most of the plants in this world had the same properties as their counterparts in other worlds, at least in these lands, so Noah often stopped to gather anything useful. 

He dropped in a lump of salt, and had himself a hearty stew, sided with some chunks of bread and cold pine needle tea. This was considered an adventurer’s roadside feast in this world, while in most other lifetimes, this would be thought of as some homeless person’s back alley meal. But, it was worth the extra effort, at least Noah believed it to be. It was best to enjoy the little things, to live in the now. He repeated that to himself obsessively, like a little hamster spinning its wheel in the back of his mind.

His horse settled nearby, but it had yet to fall asleep. Like Noah, it knew that sleep was dangerous in lands like these. Those who lived here had to be constantly aware, always ready for battle or escape. When the horse did lower its head and drift off, its ears remained pointed up, twitching from every noise within their range. 

Lying on his bedroll with his sword beside him, Noah waited out the night, half asleep. He kept his eyes on the fire, moving only to put on more wood. Without technology, a man can stare into a fire for hours without getting bored. How many times had he done this already? How many evenings had he spent staring into the fire while surrounded by dangers and unsure of the next day? 

Perhaps it was instinctive, a habit ingrained from the earliest members of the human race to huddle around a fire, to nourish their minds with its light and warmth when night fell. Perhaps it was just due to his experience, being well versed in such a scene.

Noah closed his eyes and trained his ears on the fire. Its crackles and snaps competed with the evening chorus. Everything seemed to come alive at night, from the clicking and crying of insects to the howling of wolves in the distance.

It was just another sound he had grown used to hearing when he slept, like the roar of traffic, the mountain winds, raining shells and automatic gunfire, the groaning of metal hulls in the sea, air, and space, the silence of burnt-out cities and atom bomb craters, the soft breathing of a woman at his side and maybe the snoring of a dog at his feet, the beeping of heart monitors either after his birth or before his death, and so many more.

A crack, too loud to come from the flames, awoke him. He got to his feet with his sword in hand, despite his eyes not fully adjusting and blurred from sleep. Noah focused his gaze, spotting a humanoid figure standing on the other side of the thorn barrier. It had just stepped on a pinecone, one of many that Noah had laid out to alert him if any enemies came close. He moved around the fire but off to the side, not wanting this intruder to hide within his shadow. 

The creature was more muscular than a human, taller, and with longer limbs. It wore clothes made of animal hides and carried an axe. Other than its missing lips and sharp teeth, what stood out most was the single great eye in the middle of its face, flanked by long, greasy hair. It stared at Noah with a rumble in its throat. 

“Keep walking,” Noah warned with his raised sword.

Would it attack directly in front, leaping over or charging through the wall of thorns? That would be its fastest means of attack, and considering its stature, it was not an opponent he could face with a weakened defense. He’d have to fight it while focusing on technique over strength. It could also attack from the sides, searching Noah’s defenses for an opening it could exploit. It was a slower method with less chance of receiving injuries from the thorns, but it would give Noah enough time to cast his magic.

Numerous scenarios played through Noah’s mind, but his heart was calm. He didn’t move a muscle, keeping a solid grip on his sword. Releasing one of his hands to activate a spell would likely provoke the creature, so he waited to see what it would do. It was analyzing him to determine whether fighting Noah was worth the risk. 

Even for Noah, being stared down by that colossal eye was a bit unnerving. It felt like a billboard projecting the creature’s bloodlust, while Noah himself felt its gaze scrutinize everything, sinking into his flesh like radiation. There was no telling what information the creature was receiving.

“I’d rather not kill you. After all, I’d have to drag your corpse away so it doesn’t draw animals. What do you say you spare us both the effort?”

Whether or not the creature understood human language, it gave in and receded into the darkness of the woods without ever taking its eye off Noah. He waited a few minutes, scanning the area, and when all was peaceful, he returned to his bedroll. He put some more wood on the fire, but did not go back to sleep. Getting a deep rest was hard out in the wilderness, especially when he was on his own. His internal clock told him that dawn was near, so it would be best to wait it out.

To pass the time, he decided to train his magic. He covered his left eye with his hand, and to anyone watching, Noah seemed to vanish into thin air. In reality, he had just made himself invisible. While he couldn’t see the difference, he could feel his mana wrapping around him, concealing his appearance, smell, and any noises he made. 

It felt like he was stretching his body, and his veins were widening to allow more blood to run through his body faster. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, but to expend mana wasn't much different from using physical energy; it required effort and resulted in fatigue.

Noah was trying to calm the mana in his body, except for his hand. He wanted to learn how to use this spell more lightly, in this case, only making certain parts of his body invisible. His mana would naturally stick to things and hide them, such as his clothes and weapons, and could likewise retract and return them to normal, but he couldn’t control the mana within his body. 

I can’t help but feel like I missed steps with my spells. If I had acquired magic at a younger age, I probably would have had to work my way up to making my whole body invisible.

He gave up after thirty minutes, the halfway mark of his mana reserves. He had to conserve his strength and be ready to fight at any moment. The sky was starting to brighten; he might as well get ready to leave. Breakfast was the leftover stew, heated up over the fire. Reheated food was just as mediocre over a fire as in a microwave, but he ate it regardless. 

He packed his things and opened up the thorn barrier. It still wasn’t bright enough to return to the road, so he let his horse graze. It stepped out of the enclosure, and he led it into the woods, then released it to nibble on whatever met its fancy.

He hung back and conjured his bow and an arrow from his ring. The horse began shuffling around, giving everything a sniff while the birds and crickets seemed emboldened by the sun. Noah cleared it from his mind, hearing only the steps of his horse on the forest floor and the flaring of its nostrils. His breath did not fog, but he felt a chill in the air, joined with the dew gathering on his face and hands. All was calm. All was quiet. 

Noah kept a constant vigil, turning his head like an owl. If anything was going to happen, it was bound to happen soon. There it was, the snap of a twig. A deer entered the scene. Noah took aim, and while he didn’t release, he never took his eyes off the creature either. For all he knew, it could turn into something grotesque or launch fireballs from its head. 

The horse and deer noticed each other, forming lasting eye contact as they tried to identify their distant relatives. They soon looked away, each judging the other not to be a threat. Noah considered lowering his bow, but instinct told him to wait. Barely a moment later, the deer was knocked off its feet as a wolf slammed into it like a missile. Its fangs found the deer’s neck, silencing it before it could scream and spilling its blood upon the forest floor. The wolf pinned its prey down, biting it repeatedly with a crushing grip to ensure its death. 

Noah’s horse, noticing the fate of the deer, began to panic. Its frantic steps and voice drew the eyes of the wolf, forgetting about its meal and staring at an even bigger prize, only to find itself on the unfriendly end of an arrow. If it took a step forward, he’d shoot. He listened to the fearful breaths of the horse behind him and the restrained whiffs of the wolf as the smell of blood tickled its nose and riled it up. 

Moments passed, the rising sun casting its light upon the three actors. Cooler heads prevailed, and the wolf began dragging away its kill. Noah kept his bow drawn, only lowering it when all was silent. It was time to get going. He rode his horse out of the woods and back onto the road, sending it on a steady trot. The morning was more peaceful than he expected; no monsters or bandits lying in wait or perhaps unwilling to test their luck. 

As the sun rose ever higher, he spotted a group of adventures heading in the same direction. Unlike bandits, which preyed on people, adventurers hunted and performed odd jobs for a living. It wasn’t always easy to tell the difference in time, so he was hesitant to approach. They heard the heavy steps of his horse and looked back, then moved to the side to let him pass. It could just as easily be a trap, but he decided to take a chance.

“Excuse me, a moment of your time?”

He rode up alongside, and the leader, a bearded man carrying a sword, turned to him. He was a dwarf, standing just four feet tall. Noah had seen them in various towns, this offshoot of the human race hailing from the east. They were long-lived, and their diminutive bodies made up for it with increased strength.

“What do you want?”

Noah pulled a map out of his pack and unrolled it. “Is this road the fastest way to the capital?”

Hand-drawn maps were rarely reliable, so it was best to get confirmation. He glanced at the other three members of the group. Only one of them was a woman, but she was armed and appeared healthy, so she likely wasn’t being abused. The state of female members was one of the details he’d use to determine risk.

“I’ve been heading south from Clive. Should I keep going towards the mountain or go west?”

The leader tapped the mountain on the map. “That mountain is the territory of a dragon. You’d best avoid it at all costs. The western road will take you around, but you’ll pass through the lands of several lords, and you’ll have to pay a toll each time. Your fastest option would be Took, here along the channel. You might be able to get a boat ride to the capital.” 

The channel he referred to was a narrow line of the ocean, severing a massive chunk of land off the side of the continent. It served as the dividing line between Uther and the dwarf nation of Vandheim. 

“Took? Thanks.” 

He tossed the man a coin and rode off, looking for the next road to the east. Near midday, he broke out of the woods, passing an open pasture of tall grass with the creek on the other side. Both he and his horse were in need of a break, and when he climbed off the saddle and touched down on the ground, a groan of relief escaped him. Riding a horse all day was exhausting in its own regard, and anything that wasn’t numb was aching. 

He led the horse to the creek and let it drink to satisfaction. Noah refilled his canteen while checking for anything lying in wait. Minus some cat-sized slimes scooting along the riverbank, he didn’t detect anything that could be a threat. His horse appeared sated, so Noah brought it back to the pasture to graze. Before letting it go, he put his hand over his right eye, activating his second spell.

Rather than making him invisible, it created an illusionary clone of himself, a holographic puppet. It was more than just a trick of the light, as the clone could project Noah’s voice, smell, and even cast a shadow. He sent it off, running through the field like a frightened rabbit to draw the attention of anything lying in wait. 

It couldn’t make physical contact with anything, but it produced the sounds of physical actions. In this case, it mimicked the breaking and swishing of grass. Noah could maintain his invisibility for an hour. His clone, just over half of that. That was the limit before he’d lose the ability to fight, and the time was cut down to a matter of minutes if he used them simultaneously. However, that was if he didn’t separate from his clone.

The toll got heavier and heavier as he increased the distance. For Noah, sending it off felt like swimming straight down, with the pressure increasing with each step and his mana lasting only as long as he could hold his breath. It was best used only in quick bursts, sending it running out for several seconds and then bringing it back so he could steady himself and slow his mana depletion. 

Not too long ago, separating from his clone was easy, but he had become overdependent on mana potions during training, leaving a detrimental effect on his magic abilities. Hopefully, he could recover.

As his horse ate, Noah piloted the clone through the tall grass. Near the middle of the field, a trapdoor made of earth and webbing opened, and a spider half the size of a grown man lunged toward the clone. It simply passed through the illusion, and the clone ran off unhindered before it could figure out what had happened. Noah saw the rustling of the grass and heard its signature hiss. Despite being fierce, terrifying predators, the giant forest arachnids usually stayed in their burrows until a potential meal entered their reach. He wisely kept his distance and made sure the horse stayed close. 

Both Noah and his mount enjoyed the chance to relax and eat. As the horse feasted on grass, Noah made short work of the smoked venison from the day before. He continued piloting his clone while he ate, not just to lure out enemies, but also for training. Noah wanted to keep the motions as realistic as possible and pushed the limits of how far he could send the clone. He couldn’t see through its eyes, so he had to keep it in view to best control it, like piloting an RC car.

Now for his next exercise. While sitting on a fallen log and watching his horse, he repeatedly cast and recast the spell, trying to manifest it only in portions. His goal was to figure out how to cast partial illusions, such as making one arm invisible while creating a fake arm to use as a decoy. Unfortunately, he found the same problem with his invisibility training. The spells were either on at full power or completely dormant, and he could stop his mana no easier than stopping the blood in his hand from flowing. As usual, he used up half his mana before calling it quits. It was time to move once more. 

Barely an hour since departing, he was forced to slow his horse. A boar was up ahead, loitering in the road with its tail swatting at flies. The beast was larger than an oil drum, with tusks that could punch through armor. The scent of Noah and his horse reached the boar’s snout, pushing it into a state of agitation. It stomped its hooves while snorting and squealing, keeping its beady eyes focused on Noah. 

“It’s always one thing or another.”

Noah conjured his bow from within his ring and grazed its back with a cheap arrow. The boar charged and deflected a second arrow with its tusk. It was close enough now that the horse decided to act independently. It reared up on its hind legs, threatening to stomp on the boar if it came close. 

The boar ignored the warning, continuing to charge like a runaway train. Planted in its shoulder, a third arrow threw it off balance and it missed the horse. It tumbled across the ground, breaking the arrow lodged in its flesh. A fourth arrow ended its life before it could make another attempt. 

Sitting atop his horse, Noah pondered for a few moments, looking at the body, checking the sun's position, and then sighed. “Nah, not worth the effort.” He cracked the reins, and his horse carried him off.

The hours passed without further attacks, and he even spotted a road sign confirming he was on the path to Took. Unfortunately, the weather was turning, and the sun was setting with no village in sight. He’d have to set up camp with the expectation of rain. He continued to ride, searching for a suitable place to bed down, and the smell of smoke soon made him pull back on the horse’s reins, bringing it to a stop. 

He searched for the source and spotted some fallen branches with fresh leaves. He moved them out of the way and revealed a path in the forest formed by wagon wheels and horse hooves. He had yet to encounter bandits using wagons, so it must have led to a hidden farm. It was a risk, but the clouds overhead were starting to rumble as if complaining of the weight of the rain they carried. The last time he got stuck out in the rain, it almost killed him. 

He led his horse onto the path, closed it behind him, and activated his invisibility. If someone were lying in wait, they wouldn’t attack a lone horse. He followed the path through the woods, coming out into a freshly logged area bordering a field of growing wheat. A barn and farmhouse stood at the trail's end, with smoke wafting from the chimney. 

Upon Noah’s approach, a collared wolf began to bark. He activated his second spell as the door opened. His ethereal copy appeared around his invisible body, occupying the same space he did and making him appear normal. 

A tall bearded man stepped out with a bow. “That’s enough, Bar,” he said, bringing the wolf’s barking to a low growl. “Who are you?”

Noah, still invisible, leaned down and away from the arrow’s likely path and had his clone raise its hands. “My name is James, and I’m an adventurer on my way to Took. I was hoping you might grant me some shelter for the night.”

James was a name picked at random. Since he was on the road, Noah had reverted to an old habit of using a fake name whenever possible and changing it each time. He wasn’t aware of anyone looking for him, but it was best to cover his tracks all the same. 

“This isn’t an inn.”

In this case, it would be more like a B&B. “Listen, I can pay one silver coin now and a second one tomorrow morning. I just need a roof to keep me out of the rain.”

Two silver coins were as tantalizing as Noah expected, making the farmer pause and reconsider. “Toss me one of the coins.”

Noah took it out and threw it, letting it land by the man’s feet. The light from within the cabin was bright enough to illuminate the silver face on the coin. He eased his pull on his bow. “Very well, you can sleep in the barn tonight. Follow me.”

The farmer retrieved a lantern from inside and led Noah to the barn. Noah helped him open the double doors, and inside lay two horses, a dozen goats, and several chickens, most already asleep. The smell of livestock was nothing compared to camping outside on a night like this. Tools lined the walls, and Noah had already spotted two hay bales that would make for a decent mattress. 

“Just don’t light any fires, and I’m locking the doors so that you don’t sneak off with anything.”

“I understand, thank you.” 

He left Noah with the lantern and secured the barn doors with a heavy wooden beam. Before doing anything, Noah searched the barn for peepholes or assailants' hiding spots. He could not rest his wings until he was sure he wasn’t in a spider’s web. Noah unpacked and removed the horse’s saddle when the barn was declared safe, letting it feed and drink from troughs in the corner. It was a warm night, so a fire wasn't needed, and he even had a blanket sealed within his ring.

He sat down on his makeshift bed and looked in disdain at the venison that was his dinner. After eating it for the past three meals, he now thought fondly of the boar he had killed earlier. Just a few bites in, he was stopped by the sound of the doors opening. He kept his sword in reach for just this scenario.

The farmer had returned. “My wife insists that I invite you to join my family for dinner.” Both his tone and expression were stony, but he appeared to be telling the truth.

I don’t want to let my horse and stuff out of my sight, and I especially don’t want to experience yet another slasher movie death. But, on the other hand, homecooked food, hopefully not made of human flesh, and a chance to learn more about this culture. Besides, refusing might just piss him off and get me kicked out. “I’d love to.”

They stepped out of the barn, and Noah felt a fat raindrop hit his nose. It seemed he had made the right call to take refuge. He followed the farmer into his home moments before the downpour. The house was made of stones gathered from plowing land and had a thatched roof.

The kitchen was built around the fireplace, which served as a barbeque grill, a stovetop, and an oven. A ladder went up to a loft overhead, where the beds were kept. Aside from the single table and set of chairs, the best craftsmanship was found in the few chests and cupboards. The bare soil beneath the floorboards and the thatched roof overhead produced an earthy smell. Everything inside served some purpose, with no furniture or items that weren’t worth the space they took. 

The farmer’s wife was setting the table with the help of their daughter, just entering adolescence, and their son, maybe around eight years old. They all wore the same rough wool and linen clothes and appeared healthy. Upon seeing Noah, she stopped and bowed her head with a smile. 

“Welcome to our home. You must be James. I’m Mary, you’ve met my husband Joshua, and these are our children, Thomas and Elizabeth. Welcome to our home.”

Noah likewise bowed his head. “Thank you for your kindness.”

“Please, take a seat.”

Noah sat at the table, the young Thomas at his side, the two women across, and Joshua at the head. Dinner appeared to be rabbit meat, bread, cheese, nuts, and small bowls of spices. A cup of milk was poured from a pitcher and given to Noah. He watched everyone’s movements, for though they put food on their plates, no one had yet to begin eating. Of course, poison was always possible, but it was remote compared to the risk of breaking social etiquette.

“Now, let us say grace,” Joshua grumbled. He and his family joined hands and reached out to Noah. He accepted the invitation so as not to cause disruption, having seen this ritual performed by many travelers eating at inns.

“We pray to thee, God of Light, Lord Lumendori, so that you may know our gratitude for the good fortune, health, and livelihood we enjoy by your mercy. Please continue to watch over us, and guide us on our paths. Amen.”

“Amen,” his family replied. 

Noah glanced over to a shelf above the hearth, upon which a carved wooden totem stood, depicting the rune of light. Lumendori was one of the six elemental gods worshipped by the people of Uther, the element of holy magic. Noah studied the followers of these gods and listened in on conversations, gathering information on these faiths and their rules, such as praying before meals. Of course, everyone cherry-picked the gospel in their own way, but knowing how to blend in was still essential. 

Everyone began to dig in, too focused on their meal to speak. The rabbit meat was well-prepared, despite the primitive kitchen, and the bread was much softer and sweeter than the hardtack that adventurers carried. The milk and the cheese were sourced from the goats in the barn, giving them a strong smell, something Noah welcomed. After living on the road for the past week, his taste buds craved flavor. 

After a few minutes, Mary spoke up. “My husband says that you’re an adventurer on your way to Took, is that right?”

“It is.”

“We often get adventurers passing by this time of year, but this is the first time one has asked us for shelter. Took is full of them almost year-round, so usually, it’s the homes closer to the channel that offer room and board.” She seemed amused by the situation, or, at least, didn’t appear to be the kind of person who smiles when angry. 

“I hope I’m not intruding.”

“Not at all.”

“You’re not a noble, are you?” The question came from Thomas at his side.

“Excuse me?”

“Thomas,” his father growled.

“Your ring.”

The ring in question was on Noah’s right hand, originally belonging to an Utheric knight. It was imbued with magic, creating a pocket dimension he could use for storage. Unfortunately, these rings were illegal to own by citizens, so the crest was covered by a black jewel that also doubled the power of the containment spell.

“No, this is just something I came across in a goblin den. I’m a commoner.”

“Good.” To the boy’s credit, it wasn’t loud enough to be called a child’s shout, but it drew his mother’s attention.

“Thomas, that’s enough. You will mind your tongue in front of guests.”

“No, it’s fine. I know that things are difficult right now. I imagine the local lord just raised taxes again? The war with Handent is a drain on everyone.”

“I heard that we suffered a great defeat a few months ago,” said Joshua with an angry grunt. “Those savages killed some big commander of ours and scattered his army to the breeze. Now our own soldiers are making their way back down south and turning to banditry in the process.”

“Joshua, it is a sin to speak of bloodshed during a meal,” his wife chimed.

Considering how many times Noah had been ambushed on the road, he didn’t doubt the man’s claim. “You heard that in Took?”

“Yes, thanks to the traffic on the channel, we get a lot more news than most other towns.”

“How do you folks usually stay safe out here?”

Joshua rested his hand on his dog’s head, lying beside his chair. Noah had assumed it to be a domesticated wolf but now noticed subtle canine traits, such as the ears, bridge of the nose, and texture of its fur.

“Bar keeps watch and starts barking if something approaches the house. Loud noise is usually all it takes to scare off a prowler, whether man or monster. Nothing in this forest hunts without taking their victim by surprise. Anything that keeps approaching, well, no one lives in these lands if they don’t know how to fight.”

Noah’s mana was almost at its limit, and he felt safe enough to release his spells. He moved his hand across his eyes, making it look like he was just brushing his hair out of his face. He made eye contact with the daughter, Elizabeth. It was brief, and she looked back down at her plate. For rural young women like her, adventurers were something to be feared, ranked just below bandits as roaming predators. The only difference between them was what they hunted.

“Do you ever get knights patrolling this way? I thought they were supposed to help deal with the bandit problem.”

Joshua shook his head and grumbled. “There is a knight in Took, but he just sends soldiers out here. They’ll ride around, sure, but they don’t do anything. They’re either new recruits or failures who couldn’t make it on the front line. I heard the bandits just bribe most of them to look the other way. All we can do is rely on ourselves.”

“Of course, the adventurers help keep the bandit numbers in line, even if they don’t mean to,” said Mary.

“How many bandits have you killed?” Thomas asked.

“I don’t keep track.”

“My apologies,” Mary said, “he dreams of being an adventurer.”

Joshua grunted.

“You disapprove?” Noah asked.

“In my opinion, adventuring is not an honorable life. They have no loyalties or ties, and they don’t kill monsters because they want to help people. They just go where the work is, always coming and going. They’re eternal strangers. I’m sure you can understand why I’m hesitant to trust them.”

“Indeed, I can. Is that the general feeling in these parts?” 

Noah spoke without the slightest hint of defense or humor, just curiosity. The more he could learn about a town before entering, the better. Whatever kind of response Joshua wanted, it was difficult to tell whether he was satisfied or not.

“I’m not sure. Besides, Lumendori guides and protects us as long as we have faith.”

“Lumendori is worshipped by the paladins, correct? Does that mean you can use light magic?”

“While I have not been chosen to wield the holy light, I am given strength all the same. What about you? Whom do you follow?”

It was a tricky question. Religious tolerance was hit-and-miss out here, as people either didn’t care or cared too much “I worship the pantheon, but I’ve always felt a connection to Byrnestoir. My father was a blacksmith, and I remember him using fire magic to forge. To think he would succumb to fever of all things. It took him last winter. After that, I decided to spread my wings a little.” Noah lied as easily as he breathed.

“Oh, you have our sympathies,” said Mary. Then, she turned to her daughter. “Elizabeth, you haven’t said anything yet.”

“Hello,” the girl mumbled.

“Hello,” said Noah in response.

Silence once more. “About how far are we from the town?” Noah then asked.

“A little under half a day’s ride. It’s a big town, about a hundred buildings or so. Are you heading down the channel?” Joshua asked.

“That’s right. Do you know of a way?”

“From what I hear, merchants and passenger boats might hire adventurers for protection.”

“Protection, huh?” Noah suppressed a grimace, hoping this next job wouldn’t be as exhausting as the last.

He had more questions, but everyone had finished eating and were now clearing the table. Noah got to his feet and bowed his head. “Thank you for the wonderful meal.”

“You are very welcome,” Mary replied happily.

Lantern in hand, Joshua led Noah outside. The rain was pouring at full force, so they hustled to the barn, and Joshua handed over the lantern. “You can also use the horse blankets if you need to.”

“Thank you.”

The doors were closed, leaving Noah with the livestock. They were startled by his return and calmed when they heard the barn doors lock behind him. Noah still wasn’t fully trusted, something he respected. This was a life where trust couldn’t be easily given out. 

He found the horse blankets and laid them atop his hay mattress, with his traveling blanket covering him. He put out the lantern and gratefully laid his head back, using his horse’s oat bag as a pillow. He was pretty content, as his fatigue silenced the issues and enhanced the benefits of his bed. On the road, this could be considered a luxurious evening. 

“Eternal strangers,” Noah said to himself. “I’ll have to remember that one.”

 

 

 

The sound of thunder pulled Noah from his sleep, and he automatically drew a knife out from under his pillow. The barn was dark as a coffin, even out of reach of the lightning outside. However, it was no longer raining. The thunder boomed again, and Noah recognized it as Bar’s warning. The wolfdog continued barking, and Noah sat up, caught in a mixed state of alarm and exhaustion. Since arriving, he had reverted to the survival mindset of living without clocks, but right now, he’d pay good money to know the time.

Bar must have been barking louder or longer than usual, as Noah heard the front door of the farmhouse open and Bar’s claws scratching the porch. Was Joshua just letting him out, or was he anticipating a fight? Noah had enough experience with dogs to know they could spend half the night barking at nothing, but it was best not to take the risk. He’d have to hope for a deer and be ready for a bear.

Outside, he heard Bar’s howling weaken as he zoomed into the distance. But, then, it didn’t stop, so much as it was stopped.

“Well, that’s unfortunate.”

Noah pulled his boots on and stood by the barn doors. They were still locked, but he could hear what was happening outside. Hopefully, Joshua could handle this on his own, and Noah could get back to sleep. Until then, he was curious as to how this would play out.

“Bar! Bar!” Joshua called out.

Noah heard a sword drawing but no footsteps. Joshua wasn’t going after Bar, a good choice. Several silent seconds passed by, and Joshua continued shouting. Those seconds turned into minutes. Bar had yet to return or resume barking, so his fate was almost guaranteed. 

Finally, “Whoever’s out there, either show yourselves or get off my land!”

A flash of light answered Joshua, a thunder spell striking him in the chest with its luminance worming through the smallest cracks and gaps in the barn walls. Noah heard the cry of pain, and the farmer fell to the ground. 

That went about as well as expected. 

He found a hole to look through, so narrow that he could only discern the light of five torches. He chipped at it with his knife, widening the hole enough to see. 

“Oh look, he’s back on his feet! You’re getting weak, Cal!” one man said as he drew his sword.

Noah looked over and saw Joshua standing, but it was a struggle. He was wearing a metal chest plate strong enough to keep the spell from burning him. Unfortunately, it didn’t protect him from electrocution, even if it was a nonlethal charge. Despite their flashiness, thunder spells appeared to be mana imitating lightning, or at least replicating it to some degree, meaning that they had different properties in how they dispersed and the impact they caused, with a significant drop in power compared to their natural counterpart.

Noah could see Joshua trembling as he gripped his sword, perhaps the result of his injuries, maybe imagining the handle to be the throat of whichever intruder killed his dog. What possessed him, fear or anger? Giving in to emotion would be a fatal mistake.

“Marco, Phil, kill him. Cal, hang back, make sure nobody runs off. Jozef, you search the barn. I’m going to see what goodies are in the house.” The man who spoke appeared to be the group’s leader, carrying an axe large enough to cleave a man in two.

“You stay back!” Joshua roared. 

Two men approached him, one with a sword, the other carrying a chain. Joshua secured his footing as a blade swung toward his throat. He parried, and the resulting sparks looking like the stars above the clouds. Once, twice, three times more, their swords collided. Joshua was putting up a good fight. Despite his injuries, he seemed to be getting faster, and his swordsmanship hinted at the depths of his experience—a former adventurer perhaps, or maybe a retired soldier. 

He dodged the second man’s whipping chain and threw a small wooden mallet at him, a tool from inside the house. His aim was true, striking the man in the head, and while it wasn’t enough to take him down, he staggered back, covering the developing lump and howling in pain. 

The first man landed a lucky shot, trying to stab Joshua and instead leaving a deep cut across his arm. He was too close to slash, so Joshua struck him in the chin with the pommel of his sword. Before Joshua could deliver a finishing blow, his cohort lashed out with his chain. It wrapped around Joshua’s sword, and he managed to keep hold of it. Joshua tackled the man, sending them both to the ground. He pinned the man down, both of them fighting for control of the sword as it approached his throat. 

He was once again interrupted, this time by the leader. He strode over and kicked Joshua in the side of his face, hard enough to send him flying through the air, his jaw surely broken with severe head trauma. The leader’s leg was glowing with runes, the sign of a body-enhancement spell.

“Monk magic,” Noah muttered. He had seen other adventurers using those techniques, usually only able to apply it to one or two limbs.

“Quit screwing around! Is one farmer really too much for you guys to handle?!” the leader barked. He turned to another member, armed with a bow. “Jozef, quit gawking and open up that goddamn barn! You two come with me!”

Joshua wasn’t getting up, so three bandits stormed into his house, and the screaming began. They soon emerged, each dragging a family member, struggling to break free. 

“Oh, she’s a feisty one! I call dibs!” the man with the chain laughed, wrapping said chain around Elizabeth’s throat to try and stop her flailing.

“Not a chance. I told you, virgins sell better. If you want to get your wick wet, you’ll wait your turn for this one,” said the leader, holding Mary.

“I’ll take the boy,” said the one known as Cal. Noah recognized the robe he was wearing.

“Jozef, how’s that barn coming?”

The archer, struggling to remove the wooden beam blocking the doors, finally had to put down his torch and use both hands to open the doors. There wasn’t any warning, not even a glimmer of the blade as it sliced the man’s neck open. Noah stepped out of the way to avoid the spraying blood and let the body fall to the ground. Then, seeing their comrade drop dead, the remaining four bandits began shouting.

“Who’s in there?!” the man with the chain barked.

Right now? Nobody, thought Noah, approaching the bandits without leaving footprints in the grass. 

“Phil, go check it out!” the leader barked, pulling Thomas from his hands. Before Phil could even complain, Noah’s sword struck the indent between the nose and forehead, lopping off the top of his skull.

“What the fuck is this?! What the fuck is this?!” Marco, the chain-user, shouted. 

The answer came in the form of his own chain wrapping around his neck, pulled tight and leaving him gasping for air. He rose off his feet, eyes bulging and mouth foaming. He let go of Elizabeth and clawed at the chain, with his boss watching in horror. He threw Mary and Thomas aside and charged with his axe, bifurcating his cohort at the waist. 

“I’ll kill you! I don’t know who you are, but I’ll fucking kill you!”

He began swinging wildly, trying to keep death at bay. He didn’t see the arrow shot almost point-blank, but he did feel it punch through his skull, if only briefly. He fell to the ground, and a second arrow was planted in his chest for good measure. So many bodies fell, each drawing a cry of terror from Mary and her children. Cal, the last bandit, made the wise decision to flee, but Noah had already decided his fate. He aimed with his bow and shot the fleeing mage in the back, a nonlethal injury that sent him dropping to the ground. 

Noah released his spell, seemingly stepping out of the darkness in front of Mary, making her and her children yelp in surprise. He handed her two healing potions and spoke in a calm voice. “Joshua is over there. If he’s still alive, give him these. Get him inside, and don’t come out until I tell you to.” 

He then merged with the night once more. He approached to Cal, his heart barely even raised and his demeanor stoic, compared to the wounded mage, sobbing as he tried to crawl away with a knife in his hand. It was a Kris, a dagger with a wavy blade, which would prove an abysmal choice. Noah grabbed his arm, and the mage, feeling the invisible hand gripping him with a merciless force, screamed in terror and swung wildly with his dagger.

“Lord Relampargoza, save me!” 

Relampargoza was the god of thunder, but prayer would do him any good. A kick to the face put an end to the nonsense. Noah dragged the unconscious mage into the woods with the Kris in his other hand. He dropped him facedown onto the ground with his arms stretched out in front of him on a fallen log. What came next woke the man with a howl of agony. 

Noah stepped back and released his invisibility, not that the man could see him, face-down in the dirt the way he was. The arrow in his back was no longer his greatest concern; it was now the dagger driven through his hands, pinning him to the log. The only way to free himself would be to lift his hands to reach the guard and dislodge the blade, like prying out a nail. 

Unfortunately, the way his arms were outstretched, one of his shoulders would probably dislocate if he tried to do it from that position, not to mention the curved, widening blade would enlarge the wounds. He’d have to create space and leverage by raising his upper body, but with the arrow in his back, he was far from flexible at the moment. He was shivering, on the verge of falling into shock, and the ground against his face turned to mud from his tears and snot.

“This is a trick I learned in the military. Well, not THE military, rather A military. It’s really good at getting the subject’s attention, is it not?”

“P-p-p-please, I’ll do what-what-whatever you want. Just let me go.”

“You’re free to leave whenever you want, if you can.”

“W-w-w-w-what d-d-do you w-want from me?”

“I thought we could have a little chat. There are plenty of things I want to ask you, so first, I want you to explain everything you know about magic.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Noah calmly picked up a stick and banged it against the handle of the Kris, hammering it deeper into the log and making it vibrate like a tuning fork, all to draw out fresh cries of agony.

“Funny thing about asking questions; it’s one of the quickest ways to get yourself noticed. People don’t like questions, especially when strangers ask them. The absence of knowledge they consider common raises red flags, marking you as an outsider. So, when I need deeper information, rather than asking regular people the easy way, I ask bad people the hard way. The answers aren’t always reliable, so I have to do it to enough people for their overlapping answers to reveal the truth.

You do a good job, and I’ll pull out the knife for you and send you on your way. You might even live long enough to make it to Took and get help. You do a bad job, and I’ll leave you to deal with that knife alone. I suggest you consider how many beasts will be drawn by the smell of your blood and the sound of your whimpering. 

I usually have a rule against stuff like this, but that’s the great thing about scum like you. There aren’t many people who would condemn me for this, so I can justify it as punishing you for your crimes rather than torturing you for information. And am I not merciful for giving you a chance to earn your life and freedom? Now, tell me everything you know about magic.”

“Mana! It comes from mana! It’s the power of the soul and given to us by the gods! I can turn my mana into lightning!”

“I am aware of that much.”

“And runes! All magic is based on runes! They appear as spells are developed!”

From what Noah had seen, that much was true. Whenever a magic user casts a spell, magic circles would emerge around them, consisting of runes. For warriors, it appeared around their weapons, while for everyone else, it appeared around their bodies or whatever they might be trying to manipulate. It was spontaneous, beyond their control, but there was an exception he had come across: himself.

“And what are runes?”

“The language of the gods! That’s what everyone says! They shape mana into magic!”

“And how do they work? How are they used for things like tools and weapons?”

“Fuck if I know!”

Noah hammered the dagger, making Cal scream. “That answer is unhelpful. Tell me of every type of magic you know.”

“Mages control the elements! Water, wind, fire, earth, and thunder! Paladins summon the holy light! Monks get super strong! Warriors enhance their weapons! Shamans control animal spirits to transform themselves! Druids control the trees!”

“And alchemists?”

“I don’t know shit about alchemists!”

A third strike was made on the dagger, driving it deeper into the tree and widening Cal’s wounds. “I understand that you’re bleeding out and not in a very cooperative mood, but whether you live or die depends on how useful you are.”

“I don’t know! I swear I don’t know!”

Noah was beginning to hear movement nearby. “Very well, then let’s change topics. Tell me about the bandits in this area. Are there any groups that I should know about? I suggest you don’t lie to me.”

“I don’t know about other groups. They constantly form armies and then break up when the knights and soldiers ride in!”

By now, the growl had reached both Noah and Cal. Wolves were closing in. Cal began to scream and pull at the knife, not that it did him any good.

“Please, let me go!”

“You haven’t told me anything specific or anything I don’t already know.” Noah stood up. “I’m far from impressed. I suppose I should get back to the farm.”

“Wait, I did hear something! An ogre tribe is rumored to be passing through the area!”

“Go on.”

“Big, one-eyed monsters! They come from the north, bloodthirsty nomads that eat whatever crosses their path! A tribe shows up in Uther every few years! They don’t speak our tongue and kill us on sight! They’re rabid beasts!”

Noah recalled the previous night, the glaring cyclops. If there is a tribe of those things in the area, it would probably be best to get to Took as soon as possible.

The wolves had fully circled and weren’t hiding their steps.

“Please! Let me go!”

“Well, I’d say you’ve earned a fighting chance.” Noah pulled the knife out, and Cal held his hands to his face as if seeing the wounds would somehow make the pain disappear. Noah dropped the knife beside him. “I think you’re going to need this more than me.”

He then disappeared into the darkness, and the wolves, while confused as to how one of their prey had suddenly vanished beyond the reach of their senses, were glad that one meal still awaited them. Once more, Cal’s screams echoed through the night, but by the time Noah reached the farmhouse, he had gone silent, and there were only the growls and yips of the wolves fighting over his corpse. It was always nice when loose ends solved themselves.

Noah searched the other bandits' bodies, took anything of use or value, and dragged them into the woods. The wolves would come after them next, so it was best they not be eaten right in front of the house. Finally, he did a quick sweep of the property in search of Bar, eventually finding the slain wolfdog. He had an arrow in his neck, a well-earned quick death. Noah summoned a glass bottle from within his ring and poured purple liquid on and around Bar. 

A pungent smell filled the air, like skunk spray mixed with rotting flesh, forcing Noah to retreat. The liquid was an experiment of his to try and find a suitable monster repellent by combining various ingredients found in the wilderness. Unfortunately, it only worked for a few hours, and it was such a nasty stench that he couldn’t use it anywhere near himself without getting sick, so he chalked it up as a failure. But, hopefully, it would keep the prowlers at bay until Bar could be buried. 

His business done, Noah stepped up onto the porch and knocked on the door. “Hey, it’s me.”

There was movement inside, and Mary opened the door. “James,” she said, holding a candle and sounding like she was on the verge of fainting.

“How are you folks doing? How’s Joshua?” He looked past Mary, seeing the farmer lying atop the dinner table with his children around him. It was slow, but he sat up.

“He’s alive, thanks to you. How can we ever repay you?”

“Well I’m going to go back to the barn to get a little more sleep while I can. I suggest you all do the same. After that, some breakfast would be lovely.”

“I… uh… you… uh… consider it done,” she stammered.

“Goodnight, then.”

Noah returned to the barn and closed the doors behind him. Despite the stench of horses and goats, his makeshift bed felt as soft and cozy as a foam mattress. He still didn’t know what time it was, but if a merciful god existed in this world, the sunrise would be an eternity away. 

It felt like he heard the barn doors open just moments after he closed his eyes. He instinctively drew his knife and sat up to face the intruder, only to find Joshua. The sun was rising outside, an unwelcome sight. Oh well, a better night’s sleep wasn’t far off. 

“Good morning,” Noah said as he rubbed the tiredness from his eyes. Instead of replying, Joshua prostrated, bowing with his forehead pressed to the ground.

“I do not deserve to be your host. I belittled your profession last night, and then you saved not only my life, but the lives of my wife and children. I relied on someone I called a stranger because I was too weak to protect my family. This is a shame I will never live down.”

Noah sat back down to put his boots on. “Don’t worry about that, you’re forgiven. While I can’t say I applaud your manners in insulting your guest, I’m not invested enough in adventuring to take anything personally. As for the incident last night, you fought remarkably well despite being wounded. Be proud of yourself.” He got back onto his feet. “By the way, I found Bar at the southern end of the field. I’m afraid he didn’t make it.”

“Did… he suffer?”

“No, he died well. I poured some monster repellent on him, so hopefully, you can still do a proper burial. He might stink, though.” 

Joshua looked away, wiping away some tears. “Come on, Mary is putting breakfast on the table.”

They left the barn and returned to the farmhouse, where, upon entering, Noah found Mary and her children bowing at almost perfect right angles. 

“You saved this family, and for that, we will be forever grateful.”

Noah nodded. “Thank you.”

They gathered around the table for breakfast and joined hands for grace. “Lord Lumendori, we thank you for the bright and beautiful day that awaits us, and we thank you for allowing us to cross paths with this young man beside us. We would not be here without him,” said Joshua.

“Amen,” Mary and the kids replied.

Even worse than the previous night, Thomas was excited and curious, bombarding Noah with questions, most of them about how he pulled off the fight from last night. Joshua and Mary reeled him in, but Noah dodged and deceived the questions that got through. Breakfast was bread and eggs with some cheese, and Noah, wanting to get out on the road, ate fast. He then stood up and bowed his head.

“It is time for me to be off. Thank you once again for the meals and shelter.”

He returned to the barn and loaded up his horse with his few possessions, and as he turned to leave, he found Joshua standing at the entrance, holding out the silver coin from last night. “I can’t let you leave without this, not after what you did for us.”

Noah didn’t bother trying to refuse and accepted the coin. He had simply hoped that Joshua would forget the second he promised him. He got onto his horse and departed for Took. Joshua and his family were good, honest people, yet as soon as Noah returned to the road, his mind discarded their names.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Snarl

 

 

 

 

 

The forest gave way to fields of tree stumps, then farmland, and Noah encountered more and more people on the roads, from peasants and commoners to adventurers and armor-plated soldiers. Guarded by walls, about a hundred wood and brick buildings stood next to the Paleon Channel. Villagers and adventurers, both human and dwarf, filled the open streets without fear of the monsters in the woods. 

It was like the town of Clive, having the same Medieval charm that enticed Noah’s inner nerd. Of the four inns in the village, only one had a room left available, and he snatched it up before anyone else could claim it. His horse was fed and tended to in the stable out back, and Noah entered the familiar scene of a crowded tavern. All the tables were occupied, so Noah sat at the counter. Behind the bartender were three large barrels full of booze and shelves of bottles and jugs. Nearby was the entrance to the kitchen, with two servant girls tending to the customers.

“I’ll take the house special and a mug of whatever is in that left barrel.” 

He was given a pint of ale in a dirty glass, and a plate of burned wolf meat with wheat porridge slopped on the side. He shoveled it down and left a few copper coins on the counter. Perhaps he should have asked Mary to make him lunch for the road. 

“Do you know who I can talk to about hitching a ride down to the coast?” 

The bartender grunted and pointed his chin to the corner, where a potato-headed bargeman was sitting across from a long line of adventurers, each signing a ledger for guard work. Noah watched from a distance and listened to all the questions being asked and answered. From what he could tell, guards were paid for the head of every bandit and monster that attacked the ships, and anyone who didn't fight when things went wrong would be thrown overboard. They also had to bring their own food and shouldn’t expect a roof over their heads. ‘Henry’ was the name he signed after he got in line.

“There is a shipment of slaves heading out the day after tomorrow. Be at the docks at dawn,” said the bargeman.

Noah now had a room and a way down the channel, so the next step was to get a town layout. He went to his room to leave his luggage and perform his usual sweep. He checked every inch of the walls, floor, and ceiling for anything suspicious, as well as the straw mattress for anything hidden inside, living or nonliving, and he tested the reliability of the door. Everything appeared safe, but Noah still hid his possessions under the bed.

Now lightened, he set out into the muddy streets, surrounded by villagers at work and play, and livestock either pulling carts or being carried in them. He passed through the market and examined the wares of each merchant under tents that kept the summer sun at bay. Furs and fabrics, fresh meat and preserved vegetables, weapons and tools for survival, all were for sale and examined and bought by members of all professions. 

Took’s location on the channel made it a prime trading hub, allowing goods to be shipped directly to and from the capital from deeper within the mainland. Children, either homeless or freed from chores, hid in shadows and blind spots, searching for loose pockets and dropped coins. They repeatedly bumped against Noah, pretending it was an accident, and he’d swat at their thieving hands. 

There were certain things he’d keep an eye out for wherever he traveled. He’d study the ground, looking for areas with bad footing. He’d step into stores, seeing which of them had back exits. He checked the alleys in search of places where he could ambush others or where others might ambush him. He took note of every way in and out of the village, creating a mental map of the best routes. He wanted to know if there was anything in this town he could use or had to be wary of. Numerous chaotic and violent lifetimes had burned this lesson into his mind. 

He made his way to the docks to see the channel. According to the map, it split a small eastern subcontinent off the mainland, almost perfectly straight. He arrived at a cliff made of hewn logs, where ships were either waiting silently, being worked on, or exchanging cargo. What intrigued Noah was how close the other side of the channel was, maybe just five hundred feet of open water, and if the map was to be believed, it seemed to retain that width.

He followed the banks, looking for a place low enough to taste the water. It was brackish due to freshwater from the land and rivers forming a layer over the seawater deeper in the channel. The bedrock would have had to be split open for such a thing to occur. It was like a tectonic crack filled in by the ocean. How deep did it go? Whether or not this information could help him, he wasn’t sure. It was merely a little factoid to brighten his day. This world was fascinating, and interest was the closest he could get to happiness.

It was the middle of the afternoon, so Noah returned to the inn. There was still work for him to do. He locked himself in his room and began pulling out all his gear and possessions. It was time for the part of adventuring that stories never told: maintaining equipment. His blades had to be sharpened and oiled, clothing and anything else made of leather or fabric had to be cleaned and mended, and he had bags of harvested plants ready for mixing into useful concoctions. 

He worked while invisible, not wanting a chance to train to escape him. The first task he tended to was checking the burn on his back. The area was sore, but the ointments were doing their job, and he just needed to change the bandages.

The setting sun and his rumbling stomach eventually pulled him from his room, and he went downstairs for dinner. Townsfolk and adventurers packed the tavern, all eating, talking, laughing, and arguing. Servant girls maneuvered around the crowded tables with trays of food and drinks. 

He took an open seat at the counter adjacent to a cloaked figure and ordered himself a plate. This wasn’t like a modern restaurant with a menu—everyone ate whatever the cooks happened to have on hand. Dinner was bread, sausages, and a baked potato.

While eating, he listened to as many conversations as possible to pick up information. ‘Ogre,’ that word was being muttered. One had been spotted prowling around the streets before dawn, a scout checking the town’s strengths and weaknesses. As always, Noah went to bed that night with a knife under his pillow.

 

 

 

The crying of a rooster, such an ugly sound, but every sound is atrocious when it pulls one from a pleasant slumber. Noah sat up in bed and yawned, finally enjoying a full night’s sleep since leaving the last town, or at least something close to it. Despite being a teenager so many times, no amount of experience could alleviate his adolescent circadian rhythms. He had to exhaust himself every day to have any hope of falling asleep before midnight. Living without screens helped.

He got out of bed and splashed water on his face from a nearby wash basin to pry sleep’s tight fingers off his mind. He pulled on his clothes and gear and left his room. The inn's employees had just woken up like him and were lighting the kitchen flames. Breakfast was not on his mind right now. He stepped out into the street, yet to receive the sun's direct light, devoid of all but the earliest risers. Noah stretched and then cast both of his spells. He set off in a jog, using his depleting mana as a timer.

To adventurers, running was for chasing down prey or escaping predators, so Noah did his workout with all of his weapons and anything else he might carry in the field. He ran through the town, putting into practice everything he had learned the previous day and testing out every escape route he had concocted. With both spells going at once, Noah's fatigue accumulated faster, but he pushed through. He had reached a wall in his magic training, one he hoped to break through with enough practice.

Out in the village outskirts, his strength finally left him, and his wound throbbed. He sat down beneath a tree growing at the side of the road and closed his eyes. Meditation seemed to be the best method of restoring his mana without falling asleep or using potions, and Noah was closing in on the breathing pattern that would best rejuvenate him. The sun had fully risen, and the birds were making their presence known, each screaming desperately to have sex. It reminded Noah of high school.

His stamina was slowly replenishing, like a glass under a dripping faucet, and his altered breathing no longer required his focus, allowing his mind to wander. His thoughts drifted to the farm and the words of the bandit he had interrogated, how they spoke of gods. Noah had searched for a hint of the divine in every reality he lived in, whatever power may help him understand his reincarnation ability. 

Over a hundred lifetimes of searching, all of it fruitless, yet this world offered him some small hope. To claim that magic came from the gods was no different from any other faith declaring the influence of their deities. But, on the other hand, since no other reality had magic, perhaps his search had not yet lost its meaning.

Once rested, he returned to the inn, grabbed a quick breakfast, then returned to his room and pulled off his gear. Next, he performed an exercise routine that he had cultivated over several lifetimes, incorporating yoga, calisthenics, and various other techniques for the rest of the day. 

It developed specific muscle tissue, oxygenated the blood, and purged his body of lactic acid and toxins. As an adventurer, muscle mass accumulated naturally, though not always how he needed it to. Adding this workout would push his body in the right direction.

Like during his run, he performed the routine with both spells activated, wringing every drop of mana out of his body. The floor became damp from his pouring sweat, and its evaporation fogged the nearby window. When he ran out of strength, he’d meditate like before. This was how he spent his time from dawn to dusk, stopping only to eat and run errands. Sleep came quickly that night, and the sunrise, all too soon. He left the inn with breakfast in his pocket and headed to the docks. He had already sold his horse, his riding gear, and anything he couldn’t carry.

The morning was foggy, and the overhead clouds meant it wouldn’t clear up soon. At the docks stood four adventurers: an adult man, two young men, and a young woman. Farther off, he saw the cloaked figure from the inn, carrying a rucksack over one shoulder and a cloth-wrapped bow over the other. Beside the dock, a ship was being loaded with supplies. It was about a hundred feet long, with triangular sails and two levels below deck.

“You guarding this ship too?” The question came from one of the adventurers, a teenage boy with a short sword and a shield.

“That’s right, I’m Henry. So I’m guessing the four of you are a party?”

“Fought through thick and thin for over a year now!” said the young woman beside him. Judging by her robes, she appeared to be a mage. “I’m Jen, and this is Pinot, Steven, and Jock.” Steven was taller than Noah and a few years older. He was armed with a crossbow and a confident grin. Jock, the final member, had a thick beard and a mace but looked friendly.

“You folks ever do guard work like this?”

“I’ve guarded ships on the open sea. These three have never guarded anything bigger than a train of wagons,” said Jock.

“I’ll have you know that that train of wagons attracted every monster in the area, and we fought tooth and nail to keep it safe,” Steven replied.

“I know. You brag about it in every bar we go to.”

“That’s because it works. Women love adventurers’ scars.”

“The women you meet just love adventurers’ money,” Jen said.

Noah detached himself from the conversation, quickly devolving into an argument that had probably already happened several times in their group. It was ended by a crowd approaching the ship, though most of its members were bound in chains. The cargo shipping to the capital was slaves.

Slavery was common in these lands, though the four adventurers still went silent at their approach, perhaps because of who was leading them. He was a gruff man with a scarred face, missing fingers, and numerous kills under his belt, judging by the look in his one good eye. He approached Noah and the adventurers, accompanied by soldiers to keep the slaves in line.

“I’m going to say this quick. I’m the captain of this vessel, and you don’t need to know my name, but you do need to know my rules. 

First rule: none of you go below deck for any reason. I don’t care what falls from the sky, be it rain, hail, snow, or arrows; you stay up top where I can see you. 

Second rule: unless I say so, or we come under attack, you will remain at the stern for the duration of this voyage. I don’t want you getting in my men’s way. 

Third rule: if we come under attack and I catch one of you trying to hide or avoid the battle, you’re going overboard, either on your own or with your pockets filled with stones. 

Fourth rule: you won’t get any food from us, so I hope you packed well for your sake. 

Fifth rule: your job is to guard my ship, my men, and my cargo, and should any of them receive so much as a scratch, I will hold all of you responsible. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Captain,” said Jock, the only one to reply.

Men, women, and children were brought below deck, and Noah noticed something as they passed by. Many of them weren’t entirely human. Animalistic features, such as tails, scales, feathers, and canine or feline ears decorated many of their bodies. Beastmen, Noah had heard of them before, but this was his first time seeing them in the flesh. 

They were the result of humans dabbling in shamanism—magic that channeled the spirits of nature through the body, allowing the caster to take on animal characteristics. This faith opposed the worship of the elemental deities, adding another level of complication to Uther’s war of expansionism.

Noah, Pinot’s group, and the cloaked figure were the last to get on board, and as the ship left the docks, they took their place in the very back of the deck, out of everyone’s way. There was no current to carry them south, only a persistent wind coming in from the west that filled the sails. Unless something happened, there was nothing for Noah and the other adventurers to do but try to make themselves comfortable for the voyage. 

Noah glanced at the stranger from the corner of his vision, keeping their distance from everyone else and not making any movements, allowing them to blend in perfectly and slip from people’s memory. He had watched them since he arrived at the docks, noting their actions. 

The large hood did well in hiding their face; what it couldn’t conceal, they compensated for by subtly turning their head or looking away from everyone else, controlling what angles they were seen from. Even Noah had barely caught a glimpse of their complexion, and the gloves on their hands offered no clue.

Whoever they were, they were good at avoiding detection, which, ironically, interested Noah. Stealth measures allowed one to hide from those weaker than themselves, but it drew the attention of those with equal or greater skill.

“So, Henry, what brings you down to the capital?” Jen asked, pulling his focus from the stranger.

“I’m just traveling, you?”

“The three of us are enlisting in the Utheric Knight Academy.”

Now we’re talking, Noah thought. Information on the academy had been spotty during his travels, so meeting these youngsters was a stroke of luck.

“This will actually be our second attempt,” said Pinot.

“What, did you get kicked out or something?”

“You could say that. None of us managed to pass the screening program last year. That’s how we met. We decided we would train together and give it another shot.”

“What’s the screening program?”

“Well the only way to get in is to receive a letter of recommendation from a noble,” said Steven, “but there isn’t a limit on how many letters they can give out, so plenty of lower-ranked nobles will back a large number of applicants in the hope of increasing their influence and power. The academy needs to weed out the weaker ones or else they’ll be overwhelmed.” 

“What did they have you do?”

“Tests of strength and mana, that kind of stuff. Ugh, I still remember the laughs of those rich kids when I was given the boot,” Jen groaned.

“Most nobles send their own kids if they can, but the upper-ranked don’t have any kind of screening. It’s more like they just buy their way in.”

“Not true,” said Jock. “The situation is improving from how it used to be. The academy was originally founded for noble houses to earn prestige and titles, or at least something to brag about. Those who graduated returned home with their ceremonial swords and no real experience. However, when Uther started growing its borders and its list of enemies grew, the regular army could no longer deal with all internal and external threats, so something had to change. 

Around twenty years ago, Adwith Tarnas warned the king that our military strength was severely lacking and that the academy needed reforming. No one knows why the king listened to him, this man who came from nowhere, but authority over the academy was taken from the nobles, and all graduating knights fell under the direct order of the royal family. Likewise, the training methods were drastically harshened to create a new, stronger league of knights.

Fighting on the front lines for king and country turned the knighthood into a more respectable profession, one based on merits and abilities that earned prestige. If not for that, the nobles would have pulled all support from the program or outright rebelled into a civil war. Instead, it galvanized them into making their children as skilled and powerful as possible before reaching the academy. Their parents wanted to give them a head start for when they became knights and made names for themselves.

No one, not even future dukes and duchesses, can get in and graduate without adequate abilities. Still, the great families fight tooth and nail to hold onto their influence in the academy to get their children preferential treatment. Just opening it to the public on the condition of being backed by a noble nearly started a bloody coup.”

“Is this common knowledge or should I applaud that explanation?” Noah asked, prompting Jock to chuckle.

“I was too old to enter the academy when it was reorganized, so I tried to join the knighthood by first serving in the military, but the life of a lowly soldier wasn’t for me.”

“This year, things are really getting exciting,” said Pinot. “I heard one of the Zodiac twins is going to be teaching, so anybody who’s anybody is going to try to get in and train under them.”

Noah remembered when he arrived at Took and how crowded it had been. Most of those adventurers were probably like him, riding the channel down to the capital to enter the academy. He looked over to the hooded figure, sitting away from the others and keeping so still that it was easy to forget they were there. Perhaps they were also planning on entering the academy as well. He then noticed they were up to something.

It was done with little movement, pulling a small bottle out of their robes and letting the dark liquid inside spill onto the deck. Noah cast both of his spells and got up with his clone saving his space and giving everyone the impression he was still there. The figure didn’t sense Noah’s approach or see the liquid on his fingers as he examined it. It was blood, but from what? Should he rock the boat on the chance that this is something dangerous, or see what comes next and enjoy the ride? He had made his choice before he even came over. 

He returned to his spot and canceled his spells without anyone suspecting his movements. He kept the stranger in the corner of his view, curious about what would happen next. 

Several hours after leaving Took, a wordless snarl echoed from above, drawing all gazes to an ogre standing at the top of a nearby cliff. It glared at everyone on board with its single hate-filled eye, then put a horn to its mouth and released a thunderous bellow that swept across the landscape.

“Steven!” Pinot yelled.

“I know!” he replied, raising his crossbow and taking aim. 

Before he could fire, an arrow was planted in the ogre’s chest, and Noah turned to the stranger, armed with a bow like none he had ever seen before. It was made of a material he couldn’t identify, forming web-like struts that gave it the shape of a compound bow. Two large monster talons extended from the ends like Karambit knives.

“More will be coming,” the stranger said. It was the voice of a woman.

“Captain,” said Noah, “if you have any tricks to make this ship move faster, now’s the time to use them.”

Still gripping the steering wheel with his knobby hands, the captain shouted to his men. “Extend the oars! Put the slaves to work!”

Below deck, the slaves lined up on benches with their hands bound to long oars extending out of the ship’s sides. They began rowing with all their strength out of fear of getting beaten. Noah could hear shouts and roars from either side of the channel. Their enemies had the high ground. 

Noah turned to the young woman and conjured his bow from within his ring. “You take port, and I’ll take starboard. Steven, if any of them try to swim towards the ship, you deal with them. Can any among you use magic?”

“I can use water magic at medium range,” said Jen.

“Then you, Pinot, and Jock will fight any that manage to get on board. Here they come.”

Alongside the channel, the ogres appeared, chasing after the ship with weapons taken from their victims, and arrows soon began to rain down. “Water Shield!” Jen cast, producing a blue magic circle. A protective dome of water formed over her head for her and her friends to hide under.

Noah and the woman moved across the ship's deck with agile steps to keep from being targeted. Even with arrows falling, Noah’s curiosity made him glance at the woman whenever he could. Her movements were light and trained, similar to his, but she was doing it spontaneously; there was no communication between them, and neither was imitating the other. Interesting. 

They countered with arrows of their own, the two only taking a moment to focus each shot. Her speed and accuracy proved her to be the superior archer. She was pulling arrows out of her rucksack and firing them with a speed he had never seen before.

Up above, the ogres were taking hits and retreating from the banks. Anything short of an instant kill failed to stop them, and they had no trouble keeping up with the ship. The captain kept the ship sailing down the direct middle of the channel, his one eye swerving back and forth between the narrowing sides. They were passing through the roots of a mountain, where the bedrock was exposed. When the land cracked open, the areas with more soil widened with time because of erosion, but the cliffs were closing in here.

Now in range, the ogres began throwing spears and stones, each impact damaging the ship. The captain ordered his men to go below deck, though Noah and the others had to fend off these predators. It became all the more difficult when some ogre’s lucky arrow struck Noah in the back of the leg. 

“Goddamn arrows! Every fucking time!”

“Jock!” Pinot yelled, following a groan of pain from the man. 

Noah looked over, seeing him lying in a pool of blood with a stone next to him. With no time to waste, Noah ripped the arrow out of his leg, loaded it into his bow, and fired it back at the ogres. Next, he pulled out a healing potion, emptied half of it onto his leg, and then tossed the bottle to Pinot. “Get him below deck and give him this!”

“Hey, I said—” The woman silenced the captain by sending an arrow flying past his head and leaving a small cut on his ear.

Up ahead, impatient ogres were starting to jump off the cliffs to try and swim over to the ship, and they’d soon be able to land directly on the deck. Noah looked over to Steven, downed by a thrown spear. Noah tossed him a healing potion and stole his arrows in exchange. As he moved back along the deck, the woman turned to him. 

“I’ll go high,” she said, “you go low.”

“On it.”

He stepped onto the ship's bow and began firing at the ogres in the water, rendering them still or causing them to thrash in pain and panic. Despite their bulk, they were fast swimmers, and more were leaping off the cliffs. Behind him, the woman took aim, and her bow was shrouded in mana with runes appearing in the air. 

“Scatter Shot!”

One arrow was loaded, and five were launched; the other four were made of condensed mana. As per the name, they spread like buckshot as they flew and took out two falling ogres like clay pigeons. She repeated the action with lightning reflexes, swiveling her focus to the left and right sides.

One ogre finally managed to land on the deck, causing the floorboards to buckle under its weight. It went to Pinot, the smallest defender, and swung at him with a wooden club. His shield saved him, but the swing tossed him into the air. The woman ended its life with an arrow to the back of the head. Before she could turn around, an ogre landed behind her and lunged. It managed to rip off her cloak and separate her from her bag.

Late teens, close to twenty years old, with porcelain skin, piercing eyes, and upswept golden hair. She was wearing a blue battle dress, a garment made of a strong fabric for wearing underneath armor. She spun around, her dress billowing with each movement, and slashed the ogre's throat with one of the talons at the ends of her bow. 

Another ogre attacked her with a downswing of a sword, and she blocked with her bow. Her weapon should have snapped like a twig, but the material was resistant and coated with thick scales. Holding the spine of the bow with both hands, she swung at the ogre and slashed its wrist. The string, sharp and serrated like a wire saw, cut deep enough into the ogre’s flesh to sever the vital arteries. 

A third, charging towards her with a dagger in hand, was stopped when Noah stabbed it in the back. He grabbed the ogre’s blade, turned, and threw it at one of its kin that had climbed onboard. He and the woman looked at each other and exchanged a nod. Neither knew anything about the other, but if there was one thing they could trust, it was each other’s skill. Noah couldn’t remember the last time he encountered someone like this with such professionalism and competence. He was starting to get excited.

The oars slowed as the slaves ran out of strength, and the sails started to slack. The slowing vessel allowed more ogres to climb onboard. They closed in on Noah and the woman, now standing back to back. With no fear or hesitation, they both went on the offensive in a storm of slashes and stabs. 

That was a preview of Across Eternity: Book 2. To read the rest purchase the book.

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