by Quil Carter
But no one visited his small shabby camp; the hills were empty, vast, and endless. Ben curled up by a small birch tree and huddled next to the flames, chewing on a bit more grass to appease his stomach. He was starving though; he knew tomorrow he would have to start eating something. The thought of eating the insects he would see once made him feel ill, but now he was fantasizing about popping a huge grasshopper into his mouth. He was even planning on roasting them with his palm. Everything seemed appetizing now.
With the thought of roasting grasshoppers in his head, Ben tried to fall asleep. He hacked into his arm and wiped the phlegm on the grass beside him. His chest throbbed and ached from all the coughing, and it was just getting worse. Oh, what he would give for some of Teal and Malagant’s tonics…
When Ben awoke the next morning he was horrified to realize he could no longer breathe through his nose; it was too stuffed up. On top of that he had a chill through his body that no warmth in the world could unthaw. His stomach twisted and growled in hunger, and his body ached so much he seriously considered not moving. But Ben did, he knew that his survival depended on it.
With his body shaking from weakness, Ben supported his weight on a nearby rock and stood up.
“Motherfucker,” Ben moaned as he took his first step. He looked miserably ahead, his eyes red and puffy and his nose freely running.
What had once seemed like a cheery and welcoming landscape now made him sick, even the sunlight hurt his eyes. Ben knew the warmth that was shining down on him was a gods’ send however, if it was cold and snowing he’d be frozen by the riverside.
Ben staggered on, hearing his lungs crackle with each gasping breath. It was getting more and more difficult to breathe, but Ben tried to push the alarm he was feeling down into the depths of his worries.
The day wore on and, thankfully, Ben was still on his feet. His energy was waning though and he had to rest more often. Only an hour would go by before he had to lean against a rock to regain what little strength remained. Every adrenaline store was tapped dry but he kept searching internally for more. His body just felt like a dead weight now, like he was dragging an anchor.
Ben blinked as he realized everything in front of him was unfocused. He convinced himself it was because of the glance at the bright sun above him, but deep down he knew better.
To keep himself distracted he looked at the ground for grasshoppers or other insects he could eat. His thirst was burning inside of his throat now and his stomach had eaten itself many times over. The grass was no longer helping his hunger; it just made him thirstier.
Ben coughed again; too weak to even bring his sleeve up to his mouth. He spat the white sticky gunk onto the ground and took in a deep breath. His lungs crackled as he did, he didn’t need a physician to tell him he was getting pneumonia.
“One foot in front of the other…” Ben muttered to himself. He watched his leather boots as he walked, mud-caked and scuffed. Dry though… little things, gotta appreciate the… little things.
Every step was off-center now, everything was a struggle. He felt almost like he was detoxing again.
Ben looked ahead to try and locate a pile of rocks or cluster of trees he could rest in. He saw a rather large hill in front of him, grey rocks erupting from the grassy warm plains, seemingly sticking out of the green like the rocks out of the Jarron’s river. Dry and warm, the sun hit them and the rocks seemed to soak up the heat. Ben decided in that moment he would lie on them… they must be nice to lie on.
And they were. Ben reached the rocks on the large hill an hour later, he didn’t know how he made it, but he did. He crawled onto a smooth boulder with a grunt and curled up small. He tried to make a flame in his hands, but was dismayed to find himself too weak.
Ben stared off in the direction he had walked in, weakness overwhelming him. As the energy left his body, he closed his eyes and tried to take a rattling breath through his mouth. His lungs felt like crackling flames in his chest, burning tinder; it was eating up his breath, eating up his damn life – not making smoke like normal flames, but phlegm, snot, and tears.
Though he was oozing fluids of all kinds, Ben’s nose was still plugged and his lungs congested, even his runny eyes were starting to crust. He had never been so sick before in his life.
Ben opened his crusted, sore eyes and blinked slowly. The hills in front of him becoming blurry and out of focus again. Even in his ill state he knew he wouldn’t be able to get up again. He was too tired, he hadn’t eaten in four days and he hadn’t drank anything but morning dew in almost one and a half.
I hope they don’t find me dead on this rock… Ben thought to himself. If Teal finds me, it will destroy him. Perhaps the animals will eat me… scatter my body… they won’t find me.
Ben closed his eyes; the sun was warm and pleasant on his face. He craned his neck so the rays were hitting him even more. It was comforting, in what Ben suspected were his final moments.
His mind tried to find happier times, with Teal and with Malagant. He found it curious that all of his happy memories were in Alcove. Nothing remained from his old world, just his friends.
Even his Tav – who he had just learned had been beside him the entire time.
“I’m going to miss them,” Ben whispered out loud.
“Who?” a voice suddenly sounded.
Ben jolted, too weak to give a proper startled response. He opened his eyes and looked around dazed.
In front of Ben was an elf with short dark brown hair and small side burns. He was staring at Ben with kind blue eyes and a smile on his face.
When he saw that Ben was looking at him he smiled wider, revealing straight white teeth that were somewhat pointed. He had some hibrid in him but he looked like a crossbreed.
But he was friendly… he looked friendly. Ben stared at him, trying to will himself to answer back but all he could do was stare back at him in shock.
“You’re a sick little thing, eh?” the elf laughed. He folded his arms on top of the rock Ben had laid on and watched him, as if expecting Ben to do something.
Ben opened his mouth to try and answer but all he could do was cough. A cough that rattled his whole body and made stars burst into his vision. He squinted hard and tried to focus his eyes but the elf in front of him became blurry… before disappearing altogether.
When Ben woke up, he realized he was in motion. He raised his head but dropped it again and was surprised when it landed on something light and fluffy. Unable to resist, Ben turned his head to the side and nuzzled into it, realizing it was thick fur.
He was covered too, warm and comfortable even with his stomach eating him inside out.
Ben opened his eyes and squinted. The sun was shining brightly on him, warming his face, though at the same time it seemed to harden the fluid that had been oozing from him. His face felt like a solid mask, especially around his facial hair.
As Ben’s eyes focused, he saw that he was riding in a wagon cart.
The cart was wooden and rusted iron. Parts of the cart had been repaired with wound tight twine, bleached to a light grey from the sunshine. It was a smaller cart, long enough for him to lay fully stretched out with about two feet to spare, and about five feet across. The wagon had lots of bulging burlap sacks in it, and as he inhaled through his still stuffed nose he could smell apples.
He could also hear someone singing behind him.
Ben turned and looked up; he saw the back of the elf who had found him on the rock face. He was sitting at the front of the cart, a silver sword beside him in a tanned leather scabbard, and a few red apples resting on a burlap sack. Ben could also see a waterskin beside him, dripping dark red wine with every jolt of the cart.
“Oh the sun will darken at noon, that’s when I saw my golden love,” the elf sang. “I will see the silver in your amber eyes. When the sun kissed the moon.”
Ben struggled to raise himself, but collapsed with a grunt. He coughed violently, hacking up a large piece of mucus which he tried to spit off of
the side of the cart.
The elf stopped, looked behind his shoulder and laughed. “You better lay, my friend. The terrain is rocky and you’ll be jarred off if you try and stand with your sickness.”
The elf pulled on the reins and stopped the cart. He turned around and kneeled down beside him. “Right wreck you are, traveller. Don’t worry though, I’m a friend. Apple merchant. You’re lucky I found you and not Serpents, or worse.”
“Thank you,” Ben said wearily. He wiped his nose, it was raw and hot; his face was crusted and sticky. He probably looked like hell, most of his body seemed to be damp and he wouldn’t be surprised if he smelled too.
“Anea watches us all, my friend.” The elf smiled kindly. He rummaged through a leather bag and pulled out a couple vials. He handed one to Ben and moved some sacks out of the way.
“Here, my friend. I’m going to make you a fire in the back of the cart. I would rather not waste time making camps and what not. Why camp when you can have a fire in your cart, right?”
Ben looked at him in muddled confusion. “How?”
“I fancy myself a mage.” The elf winked. Ben shifted himself back and watched as the elf unscrewed a purple vial. He then slid over an odd rock, shaped like a donut with a hole in the middle and everything. Then proceeded to dash the contents of the vial onto the rock and made a palm of fire.
He lay the flickering flame down in the middle of the rock and Ben watched in fascination as it flared with a violet flame. It stayed isolated inside of the rock.
“There, now this is artificial fire but the only thing artificial is that it doesn’t need wood,” the elf explained. “It will still burn you all the same. So don’t dally around and go scorching your hands, okay?”
Ben nodded, the elf gave him another smile and rooted into the leather sack some more. “I have some dried apples, candied apples, and some meat. You like apples, hibrid?”
Ben nodded again. The elf placed another sack beside him, and then grabbed his waterskin. “This isn’t wine; this is cranberry juice, apple juice, sugar, and water. It’s good for dehydration and, last but not least–” The elf dug out a few more bottles and handed them to him. “Drink a swig of all of these. You have cotton lung, which would’ve eventually killed you. Did you know that?”
Pneumonia… Ben said to himself in his head, but he just nodded again. Everything was happening so fast he really didn’t know what else to do.
He took the vials with a trembling hand and started taking swigs of them. He grimaced at the taste, just as bad as Malagant and Teal’s medication.
“Thank you,” Ben managed to say. His mind was starting to fight the fog that had turned his brain into mush. He didn’t even feel like a hibrid, or a person, just a gathering of mucus, phlegm, blood, and goo.
“Aye, Anea smiled on you,” the elf said, his pink lips spread in a smile. “He brought me to you. I was just saying to Gummy, that’s my mule.” He motioned behind him. “That I was lonely and hoping for a travelling companion, and there you are. The gods served me up a friend on a rock platter.” He laughed and grabbed a bundle wrapped in salted cloth, as he opened it Ben could see it was half a skinned rabbit.
Like my apology rabbit…
The elf lay an iron grate onto the fire and put the rabbit down on it.
“See? Look how well set up I am! Got you a spit and everything. Salt? Want salt? I have that too. From the seas of Darancove, best sea salt in Elron.”
Ben blinked; the elf was rather set up for travel. He must’ve thought Ben was an absolute idiot for travelling without even a cloak. “I… I fell into the river…” he said quietly.
“Did you? The Jarron? Damned gods, you made it quite a ways on your own. Where are you heading?”
“Birch. My… I lost my friends,” Ben said, watching the rabbit start to smoke. As the elf sprinkled coarse salt onto it Ben’s stomach gave a churn. He had to resist the urge to just grab the rabbit and eat it raw; he was so hungry. “I fell in. Got swept far far away, I think.”
The elf nodded intently, warming his hands on the fire before handing Ben a bag of dried apples from the canvas sack he had rested beside him. “I thought something bad must’ve happened to you. You’re far away from any town or village, my friend. Off track to Birch too, but I’ll bring you as far as I can.”
“Where are you heading?” Ben asked, his lips puckered as the sweet and sour taste of the apples shot through his taste buds. Food seemed like a shock to his mouth now.
He tore off a chunk and tried to mash it with his teeth, his eyes started to water.
“Arasbor, it’s a town near Birch. Do you have family in Birch?” the elf asked. He reached over and flicked the reins of the mule; the mule started walking without direction.
The elf sat back down and offered Ben some cranberry juice. Ben obliged, the sourness once again making his face scrunch. He shuddered. It was a good feeling though, the sugar was almost giving him a rush; much better than chewing on plains grass.
“My friend does. I… I hope they’re there when I get there. I don’t think they know I’m alive,” Ben said guiltily. “Am I going to survive?” He still felt horrible, though his body seemed to slowly be working through the muck.
The elf nodded, his kind face momentarily muddled by the smoke rising from the rabbit. He turned it over with a quick hand and leaned back as the purple flames licked his fingers. “You will, my friend. I got to you in time.”
“I can’t thank you enough.” Ben drank from the skin again, longer and deeper this time. He could feel the life flowing back to him. The sugar and energy were reaching every dark, dying part of his body, breathing life back into his sick and weakened state. He even found himself closing his eyes for a brief moment, just enjoying the feeling of warmth, food, drink, and surprisingly… good company. “I don’t have coin but my friend does. He’ll reward you…”
The elf gave a scoff and shook his head. “Anea frowns on doing a deed for a reward. In the dark times of King Zahn, the Serpent Knights of Alcove, and black magic, what follower of Anea would I be if I asked payment for saving the life of one of Anea’s children?”
I hope this elf never becomes as jaded about travellers as me and my friends have become. Ben thought to himself.
“Thank you… I owe you my life. I want to just well…thank you, that’s all. My friends will be grateful.”
“Here.” The elf once again reached into the canvas sack and pulled out a loaf of white bread wrapped in a cloth. He broke off a chunk for Ben and one for himself. He then picked up another wineskin.
“When you break bread with a traveller and drink with him, you are bound to protect each other until you part ways,” the elf said. He touched his bread with Ben and took a bite out of it. Ben did the same.
“This is an Alcove custom for travellers, bound by honour. Did you know that?”
Ben shook his head and took a small bite of bread. “I’m… I’ve been on my own before I met my friends. I’m from… Galan.”
“Well, hibrid from Galan. We’re bound by honour to provide each other good company and hospitality. I’ll nurse you back to health, you keep me company. Perhaps when you’re well, you can contribute but until then, rest and be well.”
Ben welcomed a slice of rabbit on top of his bread. “My name is Ben,” Ben said, forgetting that they usually changed his name. Oh well, the traveller didn’t seem to want to do him any harm. He just seemed overjoyed to have someone to talk to besides his mule.
“Jonquil Korbray.” Jonquil inclined his head; he cut off a piece of sizzling rabbit for himself. “Traveller from the beautiful orchards of Redcrow Valley east of Valewind, carrying seeds and apples for Arasbor. Travelling with just myself and ol’ Gum here for weeks now. I was going a bit stir crazy only having an ass to talk too.” Jonquil laughed. He shoved the bread into his mouth and rose to make sure the mule was still walking in the right direction.
“Oh, look he’s heading the right way. Smart thing, hearty too. Half
Mason horse of Rhastt,” Jonquil said. “Firemane horses for strength and size, and Kaudy donkeys for durability and endurance. Great mix.”
Ben yawned in spite of himself and started taking pieces of the rabbit off of the spit. “I had a Mason horse once, great for the Valewind snow.” Ben smiled, coughing again, his lungs still crackling. “I really do feel better already; I really thought I was finished.”
“You’ll be fine, Ben,” the elf said. He took the rabbit off of the spit and rested it on top of one of the wooden planks in the cart. “Eat, but slowly. We’re approaching a steep hill, grab on and try not to let the fire burn the cart. I need to make sure ol’ Gum can make it up himself.” With a wink, the elf hopped back onto the cart, before grabbing the reins and continuing on.
Ben lay back down on the furs, his eyes transfixed on the purple flickering flames. He had never seen them purple before, they looked beautiful. He wondered what other magic the elf could do.
Ben wrapped his arms around himself, his face twisted in pain as his back gave a jolt. Though it seemed different now, tighter. It felt like it had been stitched up and bandaged. Ben did owe the apple merchant a lot. It seemed odd that an apple merchant would be such a good mage though.
Ben yawned again, still feeling dirty, sticky, and gross, but his stomach had food and juice and his nose and lungs were working through the mucus and whatever else disgusting he had in him.
I hope they know I survived. Ben sighed. He didn’t even want to imagine how bad Teal probably was at this moment. The incident at the bridge seemed far away, he had so much else to deal with since he fell, he had barely thought of it.