With the estimate that Low Crag Pass was within the reach of four or five days, we quickened our pace. The faster we reach Arlond, the better. Time was something that I desperately needed and as always, I lacked.
Karlienne, counselled by her hawk-like intuitiveness, rode ahead with Colby. Syrune trailed behind, covered in pensive thoughts. The mage lost a lot of vigour and resembled a battered and discarded ragdoll.
Deep dark circles beneath eyes, distorted the radiant gaze of the scholar. Syrune, occasionally bit lower lips and grinded teeth while silently muttering under breath.
It came as a relief and surprise to all three of them when I made the call to camp for the night before the pitch darkness of the wilderness descended.
While I went around to refill the waterskins from a nearby stream, the large draft horse of Captain Hilam trailed behind to drink its share. The half-elf took the responsibility of kindling the campfire. Aided by enthusiastic Colby, she started preparing dinner.
Thanks to the courtesy of Viridian Dawn Rangers, the dinner was grand compared to the previous days. Mostly Salted and preserved bugs and worms. The expected complaint issued from Colby, but Karlienne had the guile to set aside a few dried fruits, which she served the young gnome with a generous quantity of water.
“I take it that, there is some bad blood between Arlene and Merowyn?” I slowly asked.
Karlinne’s eyes squinted and flames of the campfire flickered in her eyes for a brief moment.
“Merowyn is interested in Arlene and she is not,” Karlienne gave a small giggle. The first time, I saw her mischievous side.
“Poor lad,” I sympathised.
“There is more. Merowyn, got it in his head that only Arlene’s feistiness could match his passion and would take no counsel from anyone,” She leaned closer and dropped her voice to a whisper.
So she does like to gossip. A new facet of her personality.
“So Merowyn tried to woo Arlene,” She uttered the word ‘woo’ with a sneer.
“And she refused him each time and Merowyn took that as a sign of courting ritual,” she scoffed openly.
“Sadly, Merowyn for all his good abilities lacked intuitiveness when it came to love,” she giggled again.
Tell me more about a person who is clueless in a relationship.
I gave a wry self-deprecating smile.
“He tried to do small favours for Arlene to get on her good side,” she continued.
“Like bringing flowers?” I asked.
“Arlene is not the type for flowers,” scoffed Karlienne and she was right, “wood for fletching, cured leather gifts that sort, the practical ones.”
“And?” somehow my curiosity piqued.
“Normal girls would have simply refused but not Arlene,” She said with a grimace, “One fine starry night, Arlene set his parent’s barn on fire.”
A surprised ‘Oh’ escaped my lips unconsciously, followed by a chuckle.
“And I couldn’t recall, how did you know Arlene again?” I asked.
“Crafty, aren’t you?” said Karlienne, “Take a guess.”
“I would say, same age, mixed elven heritage and an itinerant childhood,” I guessed, “so probably grew up together.”
She nodded with another of her mischievous smirk.
“We knew each other from a very young age for the reasons you stated. Though we are not close. Our personalities are widely different,” She said in a calm voice.
I added a few more twigs to the dwindling campfire and it flared up in response.
“Elphene meddled. She thought since we are both girls of the same age, we would get along well,” Karlienne yoked her anger, “Arlene cannot get along with another version of herself.”
“Elphene used to take us occasionally to do chores together, that is all. Apart from those, we are strangers,” concluded Karlienne.
A still silence settled in our midst, only interrupted by the occasional crooning from the nightflyers.
“A word of advice,” the half-elf cautioned, “do not mention Viridian Dawn Rangers and more importantly Elphene or Raelion to Arlene.”
I wordlessly raised an eyebrow.
“She lacks the ability to channel her anger. Her hatred is not directional, it is explosive,” said Karlienne.
“She cannot distinguish between the object of her hatred and the institution they represent.”
“Raelion?” I asked.
She nodded in silence.
“Please keep this conversation between us,” she finally requested. One that I obliged.
The day’s excitement sapped the energy from Colby and the young gnome slept soundly before Karlienne retired. I did one more casual stroll of our surroundings to ensure our slumber remained undisturbed.
Syrune stirred restlessly on the crude bedroll. Sleep did not welcome the mage.
I squatted near the scholar.
“I know you are not asleep,” I said in a low voice, “Would you care for a walk to clear your mind?”
Syrune rose mechanically and followed.
“The last few days have been difficult for you,” My statement was something between a question and an observation.
The mage answered with silence.
“The fieldwork was never your forte, right?” I asked with unsuppressed laughter.
The scholar maintained silence.
We walked further and Syrune wallowed in reticence. The willpower of the mage held steadfast.
With the scholar erecting a rigid barrier of isolation around, I resorted to the only other method available to me.
“I must confess, I haven’t been exactly honest with you,” I said, “I do know Vangere.”
Syrune became more restless at my revelation.
“When I was really young before I even became a matriarch, Vangere saved my life a few times,” I proceeded further, “He was ancient, even then and I have lived a long time.”
A small giggle escaped Syrune and the palpable tension dispersed slightly under the shared mirth.
“I got the leadership, more responsibilities piled up on my shoulders. My relationship with Vangere sort of drifted apart, like many other relationships in my life,” I said with befuddlement clouding my thoughts.
“You became a different person,” said Syrune finally breaking the vow of silence.
The sound of a few dried twigs breaking under of our slow deliberate steps interrupted the peace of the wilderness.
“I definitely did,” I responded, “I wish I could have maintained my friendship with Vangere. In hindsight, things would have been a lot more different.”
“If it helps, friendships go both ways,” consoled Syrune.
The pale moonlight reflected on the mage’s visage revealing a return of lost vitality.
“You know your master well,” I scoffed, “His attention is mostly held by arcane things. He would have forgotten his own family if he had any.”
A small giggle like someone stroked a lute in a silent room issued from Syrune.
“You were worried the past few days?” I asked.
Syrune bit lower lips and interlaced fingers tightly.
“Worried about Celerim?” I asked.
Only a small nod came from Syrune as an acknowledgement.
“But there is something more?” I prodded.
“No, I am actually happy for Celerim and.....” Syrune could not manage to complete the statement.
A pool of tears welled in the mage’s eyes. The moonlight reflected off a single drop that managed to free itself of the mage’s self-restraint.
I let the silence reign for a moment, till Syrune could come to terms.
“I am going to go at a length and presume that this is your first time,” I said, “You will learn the hard way, that it takes more than pure intentions to make it work.”
Uncertainty rouse within in, as if in response to the last statement I made.
Was it an advice to Syrune or to myself?
I wondered.
“Moreover, Celerim was never the answer. Your path leads you elsewhere,” I added, “Celerim and Savvas knew from a young age what they are and who they are interested in.”
“We had this conversation before,” Stammered Syrune, “I am interested in both.”
I inhaled deeply, in an attempt to calm my nerves.
“It is not who you are interested in Syrune, but rather, who you are?” I said.
At my words, as if hit by an invisible rock fist, Syrune staggered a bit.
“This is not a bedtime fairy tale,” I put my foot down finally, “Hero goes on a journey to resurrect their honour, slays an evil dragon and rescues a princess or a prince, or gender-neutral royalty, all in a days journey.”
Syrune remained silent, suppressing inner turmoil.
“This is real life,” I scoffed involuntarily, “You cannot fight battles on multiple fronts. Solve one before you get to another.”
“I am working on it,” finally answered Syrune after mustering all their inner resolve.
“You mean, the herbal concoction from Karlienne?” A wide-eyed surprised grace Syrune’s face as their carefully guarded secret exposed effortlessly.
“Please, Syrune,” I pleaded, “It is not much of a secret. Anyone who spent the past few days with you would have noticed. Well, maybe not Colby.”
“It just pacifies me, but,” Stammered Syrune
“How did I know it? Is it what you wanted to know?” I completed the statement, “I am a woman who loved another woman.”
I stopped.
“Who loves another woman,” I corrected, “I raised a daughter. Of course, I sense your mood shifts.”
“Is it that obvious?” asked Syrune.
“More than you think,” I answered.
A sudden wave of relief washed over the fatigued mage.
“I thought, I would be alone, doomed for what I am,” confessed Syrune.
“You can always count on me, just don’t expect me for a shopping spree,” I answered.
We both would have shared a moment of laughter were it not cut short by the bone-chilling howling that pierced the stillness of the night.
“Dire wolves,” We both said in a panic.
Karlienne was already busy with packing the bedrolls when we reached. The half-elf had little success with calming the spooked horses, even the otherwise calm draft horse panicked terror-stricken.
Without much exchange, we quickly packed our meagre belongings and rode out. Karlienne took the lead guiding the two packhorses. Syrune closed in behind. I took the rear guard.
The howling still continued. A few nightflyers scattered further disturbing the silence of the night. I grabbed the reins tightly till my fists paled. The howling drew near.
“Karlienne, head straight for the road,” I instructed, “We might be able to outrun them on a straight road.”
“Our horses cannot outrun Dire wolves,” Karlienne voiced her concern.
The howling drew closer. Near enough to distinguish individual howls.
“If this continues we might need to lose the packhorses to gain time,” I said.
Colby would not love it. He had grown attached to the chestnut brown mare and I would hate to see the young gnome cry.
The hair at the back of my neck bristled as a stone ravaging howl issued at a short distance.
“Try this,” Karlienne threw a huge bundle in my direction.
“You can thank Caelor later,” continued the herbalist, “that is if we survive.”
Out of the corner of my eyes, Lupine silhouettes stirred, edging closer.
“Careful,” Cautioned Karlienne, “Spices and grounded exotic chilli powders. Will throw them off the scent, hopefully,” She added as an afterthought.
I nudged my destrier in the opposite direction, much to the horse’s reluctance. A pair of bright yellow predatory eyes stared from behind thickets. Soon, it was joined by another pair and then another.
“Warning,” Shouted Karlienne, “The horse do not like it either.”
“You could have said that first,” I screamed in frustration.
Grabbing a handful of the bright red powder, I sprinkled a bit and let the breeze do the rest. The howling subsided for a moment.
We raced our mounts, hoping to gain an advantage in the momentary lapse of pursuit.
Beckoned by our ill fortune, the howling came from another direction.
“Go ahead, I will cover our tracks,” I shouted to Karlienne.
“I will travel further along Low Crag Pass. Catch us there,” Shouted Karlienne back as she lead further.
Separated from the group, I shot like an arrow towards the direction of the predatory howls.
Even my battle bred destrier shivered as we drew closer to the howling. As the yellow eyes silhouetted by mangy fur came into view, I nudged the destrier to make a turn as I sprinkled more of the powder to keep them off track.
Our weird ritual continued. Edging closer to the howling and then withdrawing. The dire wolves persisted in their hunt. Their ravenous hunger, insatiable. My instinct to protect clashed with their primal need. Too much at stake. At loss, should I fail to reach Arlond, should we fail to reach Arlond.
Short before dawn break, I exhausted my supply of chilli powder and drenched in sweat, I galloped my mount towards Low Crag Pass.
An eerie mist covered the abandoned road. An unnatural silence oozed from Arlond and lingered on Low Crag Pass.
There was no sign of life and no trace of my companions.
