Trail of Rifts

by David Bokman

  “Did you catch her name, what she was doing?” asked The Dart.

  “That was even more strange. She would not give me her name, but she gave me her mission. Strange of a Herald to tell me their mission I thought, but I suppose she was in an honest mood. She was looking for some sort of book, I think? An atlas, she called it. Said she would find it north of Vestrok. Nothing but mountains and caves up there as far as I know, but I do not claim to know better than a Herald.”

  “When was this?”

  Vanessa, beginning to look a bit uneasy, said, “I’m not great with time, I’m sorry. In any case, I’ve said more than I should. Would you like food and ale, or are you off to bed?”

  The boar did not taste much better than Cadwell’s own cooking, but the group gladly ate it nonetheless. The ale tasted bitter and strong but did its job, and before long both Samson and Florianna had to call it a night. Mae and Cad stayed up a while longer, coming to terms with their new reality. “Is any part of you interested in finding out the truth about the rifts, or are you just doing this because you were ordered to, Herald Churchcross?” asked Mae.

  “I’m doing it to avoid getting executed.” Cadwell took a sip of his ale, then continued, “But I suppose if we figure out how to close them, the risk of one eating me up drops significantly, which I would not be opposed to.”

  “I envy you.”

  “Because I’m old and angry?”

  “You’re pragmatic, in a strange way. And you don’t beat around the bush. Everything is either black or white with you. It must be an easy life to live. Aeni are bad. Rifts are humbug. Must avoid execution. Everything is a straight shot with you.”

  “So you agree?”

  “Oh no, I think you’re absolutely wrong about almost everything you say, but I envy the way you reach your conclusions.”

  “How am I wrong?” Cadwell did not sound angry or upset; his answers seemed to come automatically, without much thought.

  “Take the aeni situation, for instance. Has every single aeni you’ve ever met been bad?”

  Cadwell thought for a second. “No, but I haven’t met many.”

  “There you go. And has every single human you’ve ever met been good?”

  “Definitely not, and I’ve met many.”

  “Exactly! So would it be outrageous to assume that maybe what matters is not whether or not a person is an aeni, but whether or not they’re sensible?”

  “Chance of them being sensible seems to be lower if they’re an aeni.”

  Mae laughed, and raised her tankard. “Let the Gods know I tried.”

  Like the previous Herald that had come through, the group did not stay more than a night, and were quickly back on the road after breakfast. Although the sun was shining, the late summer day was cold, colder than anything Sam and Na had previously endured. “Is it possible that Vanessa misunderstood, and the previous Herald was looking for the same Atlas we are?” said Florianna, trodding along in the middle of the pack.

  “Probable, even,” said Mae. “Or perhaps he is a book and not a person. That would explain why she’s searching for him hundreds of years after he lived.”

  “Do we know of any other heralds?”

  Mae looked up at the greyish sky, covered in ambiguous clouds. “Not any living ones, at least. I doubt there are many of us.”

  Cadwell took a sip of his morning ale, and said, “I don’t fancy going north of Vestrok.”

  “What is this? Big, fearless Cadwell - afraid?”

  “People get lost in the caves up there and never return.”

  “People are stabbed to death in Kardh’Ao, but you had no trouble going there.”

  “That’s not the same.”

  They went another hundred yards, before Samson said, “But we are going north of Vestrok after the fields, aren’t we?”

  “We don’t have much choice now. Would be plain stupid not to when we’ll be so close anyway, and be he man or book or a damn tree, this Atlas better have answers for us. Let’s focus on these ‘Shattered Fields’ first, though. Hopefully they have all the answers we need.” While a part of her was still skeptical, Mae, for once, had actual hope that they may indeed get some real answers. Before reaching the answers, they had a lot of road to cover, and if they had to go to The Atlas, it would be a lot more still. Eager to reach these mysterious fields, they upped the pace and quit the talking.

  She heard it around midday. Faint at first, easily mistaken for the normal sounds of the forest. Then she heard a branch snap, then two, and The Dart knew they were being watched. They had traveled a fair few leagues from the inn, and were at an all but deserted part of the path, far from civilization. The only friends they had out here were their horses. The Dart feared they were about to get another friend, though. “You hear that?” she asked.

  “All I hear are birds. And the wind.” Florianna had never been a master tracker.

  “Stop here, hitch the horses.”

  The others obeyed. Weapons at the ready, they followed The Dart into the forest. The Dart, her ears on high alert, listened for any sound out of the ordinary, anything to betray the location of their mysterious stalker. She did not have to listen for long. The roar came at the same time as the beast made its way into their line of sight. Seven feet long and thirty-five stone heavy, charging towards them was—

  “Bear!” screamed The Dart. She quickly jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding the rampaging beast. The others had more time to react, but were still not far away from being mauled by the brown bear. Roots and sticks and leaves were thrown in the air, and the trees almost seemed to shake from the monstrosity’s stampede. The heralds got up, weapons drawn; The Dart with her two trusty daggers, Sam with his new dirk, Cad with a broadsword given to him by the Townsguard, and Florianna with nothing at all.

  By the time they were ready for battle, the bear had managed to stop its rush and turn around, its red, rage-filled eyes darting from prey to prey. Seeing as Samson was the closest, and also the smallest, the bear divined he was an easy target. Having learned its lesson, this time it did not attempt a full-force charge. Instead, it lumbered up to him and prepared to slash him in two with its three-inch claws. Standing on its back legs, the bear brought its paws up, let out a deafening roar, and slashed towards the tiny man, only to find nothing but air. Samson quickly dodged out of the way with a roll to the side, and, in the same motion, brought his dirk up and pierced the side of the beast. The roar it let out this time was one of pain, but the bear’s resolve still seemed unwavering.

  Realizing the Aeni was too small to accurately hit, it looked around, and spotted Cadwell, a prey of much greater volume. It prepared to strike, but was once again struck itself. This time, it was a twofold cut; one from each of The Dart’s daggers. She had rushed up to the beast and planted her daggers in its other side, a course of action it seemed to greatly dislike. The bear switched targets midway through its strike, and almost hurled itself towards The Dart, knocking her to the ground and slashing her leg in the same motion.

  “A little help!” screamed The Dart, realizing she was prone with an angry brown bear standing next to her. Cadwell brought his broadsword up and swung it at the back of the beast, but seemed to stumble on something, perhaps a root or a stone, and his sword did not strike true. Instead of cutting the beast in two, he only fueled its rage further. The bear opened its mouth to reveal rows of strong white teeth. Determined to not go hungry tonight, it prepared to bite down on The Dart’s throat, a maneuver she was helpless to defend against. “Ask The Atlas—”

  Mae’s words were cut short. Not by the teeth of the brown bear, but by the fact the bear seemed to have frozen in place. Its mouth was still wide open, and it still looked determined to continue the battle, but it did not move a muscle; it was as if time had stopped moving for the large beast. It looked as if the bear had been encapsulated in an invisible web, restraining its every attempt at movement. “What the—”

  “Kill it!” shouted Florianna, furt
her back. “I can’t hold it for long!”

  The Dart looked back at the beast, who still seemed to be conscious, its eyes quickly filling with a mixture of confusion, fear and anger. She could almost feel it struggling against its invisible shackles, but for now, they held. She looked around, trying to locate her daggers, and saw them a few feet away. Before she had time to move towards them, Samson had already made his way to the bear, dirk in hand. Without saying a word, he tightened his grip and thrust the blade deep into one of the bear’s fear-filled eyes, not pulling it out until he saw the last glimpse of life escape from the beast. It fell limp on the ground.

  They gave Florianna some well-deserved rest before pressing on. This time, she had not fallen unconscious from the effort, but she still seemed to suffer from a great deal of magic fatigue. Cadwell, giving the young arcanist some space, walked over to Samson. The young Aeni had not moved far from his slain prey, and was busy cleaning his dirk. “Impressive work,” admitted Cadwell, sitting down next to Sam. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

  “It’s just a bear, it might have been different if it had been a person trying to kill us,” said Samson. “But you can thank the Laentarian for teaching me how to do it.”

  “I’m not going to thank him, no, but good job on saving Mae.”

  “Na did the hard part, she’s the one we should thank.”

  Mae seemed to agree, as she was making her way up to the young arcanist, who was laying on her back at the edge of the forest. “You alright?”

  Florianna answered with a slow nod.

  “That’s a lot more impressive than changing someone’s hair color. And a lot more advanced. Either you’re more skilled than you’re letting on, or you’re learning fast. In either case, thanks.”

  “It was instinctual,” Na said. Her voice was exhausted and quiet. “I knew I had to do something, and that’s what happened. It wasn’t controlled.”

  “Well, today your instincts saved a life, and the owner of that life is grateful.”

  “That’s a very useful trick,” said Cad, almost shouting in order for his voice to reach Florianna. “Any way to learn it?”

  “You’re either born with an arcane affinity or you’re not, and I’m fairly sure you belong in the latter category,” laughed Mae. “But our young friend seems to have an especially strong affinity.”

  “And that affinity has given us a few days of good food. I haven’t had a proper bear steak in forever.”

  That evening, the heralds were not as lucky as they had been the night before. This time, there were no taverns or inns to speak of. In fact, there were not any sort of buildings at all. No, they would have to make their own camp tonight, but at least they had the bear steak to keep them happy. Cadwell, certain that if anyone else tried they would ruin the meat, set to work preparing the bear. They had not been able to salvage all the meat from the beast, but it would certainly be enough to feed them all today, and hopefully give them enough energy to make good progress tomorrow. Mae had put herself in charge of building shelter, a process she was all too familiar with. As they still had the forest at their disposal, this did not prove a difficult task, and before long they were resting with good cover from the wind and good meat in their bellies.

  Just before Cad was about to kill the fire, their evening was interrupted by an uninvited guest. Descending from the sky was the same raven they had bought with Jaio less than two days ago, carrying a letter with it. “News already?” asked Na. “Must have been something important, if he is already sending out the raven. Maybe we’ll have to go back!”

  “I’m surprised he sent it out at all,” said Cad. “Let’s see what he has to say.”

  Cadwell, demonstrating his lack of deft hands, eventually managed to get a hold of the letter attached to the raven. He opened it up and cleared his throat.

  Dear friends!

  Please accept my humblest of apologies for the deception.

  I am afraid I will not be staying in Kardh’Ao, nor be staying in touch.

  While I believe your cause is an important one, it is not one I wish to devote my life to. By the time you read this, I will be on a ship heading north, as per my original plan.

  I am sure we will see each other again, but I warn you that it might take a while.

  Thank you for letting me travel and sup with you!

  Your true friend Jaio

  P.S.

  Sam! I am sorry you could not join me on this adventure, but I hope and believe there will be more opportunities in the future.

  P.P.S.

  Florianna, I have not forgotten my debt to you. When next we meet, I aim to repay it twice over.

  ⧫ CHAPTER XVII ⧫

  The Laentarian had barely said farewell to his friends before he set to work on his plan. The ship he was originally supposed to travel north on would already have left port, but with his newfound title of Herald, he reasoned it would be far easier to get passage on a ship now. If all goes according to plan, I will be out on open waters before the day has passed. Before he could get on a ship, he would have to write his farewell letter, though. I owe them that much. I owe them more, but it is a harsh and unfair world we live in. The woman who sold them the raven had told them it would have no trouble knowing where to go once Jaio sent it away.

  “Just let it get to know the ones you want it to deliver the message to, and give it a direction when you send it off,” she had said. Apparently, the bird was from a place none of them had heard of, where the ravens were allegedly trained rigorously and made unbelievably accurate. A fine tale to weave in order to charge thrice the price for the bird, Jaio thought. Money had never been a concern for the Laentarian, and he was happy to help the local economy when he could, so he had paid her nonetheless.

  The letter proved more difficult to write then Jaio had hoped, but he eventually managed to string together words that formed somewhat complete sentences. You know better than to get sentimental, Jaio, he reprimanded himself as he sent off the raven. “North!” he told it as he released it in the direction of the faraway mountains. With that out of the way, all that remained for Jaio in Kardh’Ao was finding a ship with a suitable destination and making his way onto it.

  When the young man reached the port, he realized he was not alone in his pursuit of leaving the city. The port was normally home to a myriad of people and items and ships, but today it looked twice as busy as the previous days, reminding Jaio of the scene at the Sermon of Storms. It even looks like the elusive Portsguard has decided to grace us with their presence, Jaio thought, laying eyes on a quartet of guards patrolling the port. Figuring this would likely be the last time he had the chance to converse with a member of the Portsguard, the Laentarian began dodging and ducking his way through the crowd, using his heraldic emblem for passage when necessary, and quickly made it up to the guard patrol. “Guard!”

  The quartet stopped, turned around, and the closest guard said, “What do you— Oh, look at this, boys - a Herald.”

  “Ah, but it is I who should be surprised! We heralds seem far more common in this place than you guardsmen, no?”

  “What do you want, rich boy?”

  “I shall assume you are having a bad day and dismiss your insult as a moment of ill judgment. I will not keep you from your duties for long, I just wish to know how your fight against crime is going?”

  The guards looked at each other and laughed. “Not much of a ‘fight’, is it, boys? I bet you five suns the Commander sympathizes with The New Port.”

  “I shall not bet with you, sir, but what makes you say that?”

  The oldest of the guards, who had until now remained quiet, said, “We’s been telling her about them since the day she took over. Previous Commander had a worse military mind than a flower, but at least he took it seriously. This one doesn’t even seem to recognize the threat, and by now we’s all but given up.”

  “What’s it to you, anyway, Herald?” The guard spoke the last word like one might speak a vile curse
.

  “It is nothing to me, of course. Nothing at all. The dichotomy of the city simply interests and intrigues me.”

  “The who?”

  “Regardless, I have kept you from your duties for long enough. Best of luck to you, friends.”

  If Jaio had not been trained in the arts of acrobatics and athletics, he was not sure how he would have traversed the port today. On his previous visits the chaos of the port had been clearly organized, which made it decently easy to maneuver. Today, the organization was nowhere to be seen. Many people looked like they had never been near a port, or any water at all, in their lives. Jaio made it past the threadfin merchant, who would probably make a week’s worth of money today. He made it past Tark & Tork’s Tackle, who, despite the commotion, did not look to be getting any customers. He made it past boats and ships, some arriving but most departing. “Excuse me!” he said, grabbing the attention of one of the dock workers. “What warrants all the commotion today?”

  “You haven’t heard? That purple hole in the ground at the Townsguard’s got people worried sick. One of those appears ‘round here, ain’t nobody going to lift a muscle to help us. Best to leave while you can.” The dock worker took a second look at the Laentarian. “And might want to drop the fancy outfit too, buddy.”

  Jaio nodded and continued his endeavor further into the port. It took him another quarter of an hour, but he eventually found what he was looking for - a ship bearing the North Sea Cross. The Laentarian guessed it housed a crew of perhaps fifty men, so it was certainly no rowboat. He did however observe that it held a couple of small rowboats on its side, no doubt serving as lifeboats. An important tool for a ship, he thought. This ship will do, if the Captain will have me. Surely he would not pass on the opportunity to bring a Herald with him, Jaio told himself, trying to locate someone in charge. What he located instead was the vessel’s name. Most of the ships he had passed did not have names, or did at least not paint them on their hulls. This one was an exception, and held the name Northern Respite. Jaio smiled to himself. That’s precisely what you are looking for, is it not?