*Author's Notes*: Thanks for your patience while I'm still writing and setting things up for Book 2, if you're interested in reading a couple of chapters ahead though, I've made a Patreon.

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            “Annnnd stretch,” said Keldon, lowering his stance in flowing forms.

  With a deep breath, Keldon lunged forward, feeling the burn in his hamstring. It had been almost a week since Salem’s passing and although there wasn’t anything left to do in the forest, he wasn’t quite ready to leave.

  But what the hey, not as if he had anywhere else to be immediately right?

  The first day of Salem’s passing had been rough. Keldon sulked in the safety of his bedroll, too drained to do anything productive that day. It was surprising in a sense. He’d expected heavy guilt, sadness, blinding confusion, or any of the above really. But rather than a crushing tsunami of grief, it was more like a smothering wave of numbness. The emotionally charged events of yesterday’s events had all but sucked the life from Keldon’s soul. Only sleep provided him any semblance of real comfort.

  At first, ironically, he had trouble falling asleep that night. The fear of having to confront death and whatever that thing was back in that dark abyss tormented him. He had zero confidence in being able to handle another encounter, not right now at least. He’d even avoided making a campfire, instead choosing to sleep in the cold and eating hard bread. Though in fairness, at his core Keldon didn't campfires and unconsciousness were the reason for his visions.

  In the end, fatigue got the best of him as Keldon gave in to the weariness. The second and third day had passed by with little to no change, as Keldon had spent most of his time unconscious. That or wishing he was asleep.

  But as days passed by, Keldon's once-numbed emotions crept back bit by bit. He'd burst into tears at random, overwhelmed by a chaotic brewing of loneliness and throbbing grief. These bouts happened even when doing something as simple as warming sticks of jerky.

  It wasn’t Keldon’s first time dealing with loss, but it never got any easier.

  This time, it was a bit different though. He’d expected the relentless torment that he’d come to know and hate to tug at him in their entirety. Yet, things seemed a little softer that morning. Though still groggy, Keldon had awoken in surprise to the sound of chirping birds and rustling trees. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't noticed them for days now. He flexed his stiff joints, mustering the energy to crawl out of bed for the first time in ages. Keldon sauntered over to his belongings, rummaging for his sack of coffee beans.

  They were bitter and gritty, just like he liked them. Keldon leaned back, picking bits of espresso beans from the gaps in his teeth.

  His eyes wandered around the campsite, eventually landing on Salem’s belongings.

  A sharp pain throbbed in his chest, but he couldn’t look away. The guilt of not being able to do anything despite a literal apocalypse had finally caught up to him. But Salem's words echoed in his mind.

  “Sometimes, guilt is enough to get you started… Blaze the winding path.”

  This time… this time it wasn’t like the rest. This time, he got to say goodbye.

  Prying his eyes away, they wandered to the dusty pieces of scattered clothing and food scraps that had piled up all around him. Trails of ants swarmed discarded breakfast tins as two squirrels fought over crusts of stale bread.

  “Ew,” thought Keldon, getting up and starting to clean.

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  “Well. That’s that.”

  Keldon smacked the dust off his hands, burning away the last of the garbage in the firepit. With a loud groan, he stretched his arms over his head, scattering a few curious woodland animals. Although his joints were still a bit stiff, he happily welcomed the hard work and a busy mind. Slinging his belongings over his shoulder, Keldon pulled out Salem’s pocket watch, rubbing it with fondness.

  Keldon marched up the cliff that overlooked the sea of trees that made up his home for the last week and a half. Each step he took was heavy and solemn, as he steeled himself for the journey ahead. At the top of the cliff, Keldon closed his eyes to feel the wind rustle his hair as the sun bathed him in warmth.

  “At least I have you,” said Keldon, looking out over the horizon.

  Keldon fished out the last of Salem’s belongings, placing them with reverence on the peak of the cliff. He laid down Salem’s cloak, a flask, a small pairing knife, as well as other bits and pieces of equipment. Keldon hoped that these items wouldn’t be disturbed in Salem’s final resting place. But, if they could help someone in their time of need, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. With a flick of the wrist, Keldon scattered Salem’s whisky into the wind completing his memorial. He placed the flask with care next to Salem’s cloak and knelt.

  “Valhairre Salem, you will be missed.”

  But as Keldon turned to leave, something fluttering in the wind caught his eye. He let his eyes drift across as the cliff as he spotted a red ribbon flickering in the light of the sun. However, on closer inspection, something was off. The ribbon wasn’t just caught in the wind. It was tied to a branch that poked out of the ground. Someone had been here.

  Keldon’s eyes widened as he inched closer to the ribbon, one slow step at a time. Pulling the branch out from the ground, he unfurled the red strip of fabric in his hands. The scent of lavender wafted from the ribbon, but the message written was much more ominous.

            Hurry up. Entrance exams at the Grand Academy have already started.

  Another question to the list.

  Keldon dropped the branch like it was on fire. He whipped around, looking for any signs of another person. Had someone been watching him this whole time? How much did they know? How did they even find out? His heart pounded in his chest, eyes darting from bush to branch.

  Nothing.

  No footsteps. No broken branches. No tracks.

  Nothing.

  Keldon gazed into the distance, looking past the edge of the forest to the very limits of his vision. There, at the edge, he saw a line of carriages creeping out of the forest in single file. For a second, panic flashed in his chest as Keldon thought that the prison cart crew and the rest of the merchants had caught up with him. But, on closer inspection, the line of carriages bore different colors than the majority of the ones that he had traveled with.

  “Shit,” thought Keldon, looking between the ribbon in his hand and the streaming row of carriages off in the distance. If what the ribbon said was true, there was no time to investigate any further.

  “I’ll deal with it later,” thought Keldon, stuffing the ribbon into his pocket.

  True or not, the risk of missing the entrance exams was far too great. Snatching his belongings off the ground, Keldon threw them over his shoulder and took off in a sprint to the horizon.