Alleyn sat up with a yawn. He didn’t remember when he’d fallen asleep, but looking through the forest canopy made it clear that he had slept longer than intended. The sky was tinged with the warm colours of evening. He had obviously overtaxed himself greatly recently, so he wasn’t surprised that he’d from late morning until late afternoon. Alleyn hadn’t realised how much he had needed that sleep until now; his mind felt clearer than before, and his body didn’t ache anymore, so any would-be feelings of regret were quickly snuffed out.

 

He should get a move on. The faster he got to Battsek the faster he could figure out what to do next. Or, perhaps the smarter choice, he could think about it while walking. Packing up what little he’d set out, Alleyn slung the sack over his shoulder. He hadn’t taken more than a couple of steps towards the road, however, when a feeling that he’d forgotten something struck him. The dagger, he thought. Turning back, he quickly found it in the high shrubbery, the polished blade having caught a bit of light. 

 

Alleyn reached for it but hesitated. Should he still bring it with him? It was obvious to anyone who saw it, and him, that he wouldn’t own anything of such high quality, not that he expected to run into anyone on this road. Bury it, then? That felt… wrong, somehow, although Alleyn wasn’t sure why. He was too close to the village, he reasoned. It was a plausible explanation for why he felt the way he did, even if he knew it was incorrect. Still, it was a valid point, and there wouldn’t be any harm in burying it later.

 

He’d do that, Alleyn decided. He’d bury it tomorrow. Now, he really should go. He didn’t know how long he had to walk before he reached Battsek, but night was on its way. Yesterday was a full moon, so that wouldn’t be an issue. The moonlight should be more than enough to illuminate the road ahead, allowing him to walk throughout the night. Then, he could hopefully fix his schedule and wake up with the sun as he was used to. It would get chilly as night came, sure, but he had Gareth’s old cloak to help stave off the worst of it.

 

Alleyn picked up the bladed weapon and made for the road. He’d walk until he was tired and then a bit more. It shouldn’t take many days before he reached Battsek in that manner.

 

Setting foot on the dirt road, he looked back towards the direction of Trudid, and couldn’t help the nostalgia welling up inside of him; it had been his home for sixteen years, and now he was about to leave it behind. Maybe that’s for the better. The vast majority of the Trudid people didn’t like him but still had to provide for him, something he had often thought of as unfair, even if he knew he couldn’t live without what they gave him. He’d live his own life from now on...

 

He noticed something, looking back down the road: there was nothing but forest. He didn’t think he’d walked so far past the last bit of farmland that he would be unable to see the forest’s end if even just as a slight difference in colour. He shook his head and turned away, rationalising that, since he had walked during nighttime, it would’ve been easy for him to miss judged for how long he’d travelled. In the end, it was a good thing if he had walked further than expected; that just meant he would arrive sooner, if even by a little.

 

Now finally on his way, Alleyn thought about what he would do upon making it to Battsek. He didn’t have anything to offer back in Trudid, much less a larger city like where he was going. His most remarkable skill would be what little he had been taught by Gareth when it came to herbalism, but even that ‘skill’ wasn’t an actual ‘Skill’. Alleyn was confident that, even if he hadn’t done it before, he could make a couple of salves, even if their efficacy wouldn’t be anywhere near what Gareth could manage, so why wasn’t it recognised as a Skill? 

 

Tens of seconds passed, but Alleyn still couldn’t come up with an answer. So, he turned to the one entity that could, hopefully, enlighten him. (“Why don’t I have a Skill related to herbalism listed on my Status?”) he asked the voice.

 

The voice answered almost the moment his thought had faded, its tone the same inhuman cold as always, [It seems that you’re missing one or more requirements.]

 

Great. Then he truly had nothing to offer. Well, he had killed a man, so that was something. For a moment, he humoured the thought that he could somehow make a living off of killing people. It was a chilling thought, one that sent a shiver up his spine. Thinking back, it was obvious that Powell hadn’t been sober. The only explanation for how he had even managed to live through that event was that Powell had drunkenly stumbled into Alleyn’s dagger. Realistically, he didn’t even know how to kill someone without getting himself killed along the way, although he didn’t want to live by killing, even if he could.

 

Bringing his straying train of thought back to the start, Alleyn came to a simple conclusion: he had no idea what to do. Letting a silent sigh past his lips, he shook his head and forced a smile on his face. He had to make it to Battsek before anything else, so why even think about the future before then? It was his first time outside in too long, and Alleyn wanted to enjoy it as best he could. The sounds of the forest, the birdsong and the leaves’ rustling, was a novel experience. Yes, he could hear the same sounds from his home back in Trudid, but the surroundings made it something else. And, come to think of it, ‘Fate’ did seem to have plans for him, right?

 

He would manage just fine.

 

Despite his positivity, it didn’t take long for boredom to set in. (“So uh… what do I call you?”) Alleyn asked. He had been referring to it as nothing more than a voice, but it was obviously more than that, so it seemed somewhat unfair to not treat it as such.

 

[As I have already told you, my name is Project: Cleanse] the voice responded.

 

Of course, Alleyn could remember that; such a name was almost too weird to forget. But that was the issue on Alleyn’s mind: (“That just doesn’t sound very human.”) 

 

[I’m not human.] Alleyn shook his head; he knew that even if he didn’t know exactly what it was. He wanted to somehow connect with the voice, something he felt the ‘very’ uncommon name stood in the way of, to some extent. And, having a conversational partner would surely help when it came to passing time.

 

(“Can I call you ‘Cleanse’, instead?”) Even if the name was still ‘inhuman’ to some degree, it felt more natural, if only slightly. Who knew, perhaps being called Cleanse was actually commonplace somewhere else?

 

[Yes.] Alleyn smiled. That was one issue out of the way. Now he just had to somehow make Cleanse ‘sound’ more human.

 

Perhaps being friendly would help? (“Let’s get along.”)

 

[Naturally.]

 

Apparently not. The taciturn nature of Cleanse wasn’t something he could deal with, not with his own crippled conversational skills. Maybe he should work on himself first, then. Alleyn cleared his throat awkwardly and brought his attention to something else: the dagger.

 

He didn’t have a sheath for it, and nowhere else to put it, so he had been carrying it in his free hand since he woke up. Adjusting his grip, Alleyn experimentally ran his thumb over the blade, gently, leaving a thin trail of red while getting an itchy cut. The edge was sharp, almost impossibly so, he couldn’t help but remark, sharper than anyone of the knives he’d ever owned. Relief washed over him when he thought of what would’ve happened had he pressed down on the blade.

 

Turning it over, he examined the engravings on the flat of the blade: there were patterns, symbols, he realised, that gave him the vague impression that they served some use other than just being pretty. He counted three symbols in total. Alleyn felt a slight ache at the back of his eyes, although it disappeared the moment he stopped studying the symbols. The momentary pain was enough for his interest to wane, at least for the moment; right now didn’t seem like the best moment to cultivate a headache.

 

Alleyn dropped his arm down to his side and adjusted the sack slung over his shoulder. He winced. It was getting heavy, mostly due to the water jars, and it had been digging into the same spot on his shoulder for the last couple of hours. Pausing for a moment to swap shoulder, he continued on his way. Battsek was still a ways away…

 

***

 

Night had fallen, and his surroundings had grown quiet; the only sound present was the occasional night’s breeze blowing past the tree-tops, rustling the light branches at the top.

 

Alleyn continued walking, largely unimpeded by the darkness. It had been as he had hoped: the sky was clear, letting the waning full moonlight up his path in a gentle glow. That was, however, all he could see; the forest’s undergrowth was sheltered from the light, covered in the canopy’s shadow.

 

He was tired and ready to rest, but that wasn’t the plan. The path was lit well enough tonight, yes, but it would only get progressively worse as the moon waned. He would have to fix his sleeping schedule unless he wanted to fumble his way along a dark and unfamiliar road. No, he would have to continue walking until the afternoon or, at the very least, late morning. That would hopefully be enough to tire him out so he could sleep until morning. He could’ve tried to sleep through the night, but he had a feeling that he’d be unable to fall asleep.

 

At this rate, however, that seemed unlikely. Alleyn stifled his umpteenth yawn while rubbing his eyes. Letting his eyes wander along the forest-line Alleyn thought about what to do; he’d have to somehow stay awake for another eight or so hours. A glimpse of light from the shrubbery caught his attention. With another step, it was gone. Likely the moonlight reflected in a puddle.

 

Or something else. Who knew who, or what, called the forest home? It could’ve been a Beast, one of those Gareth had told him of. Alleyn suddenly found himself to be very awake, every sound magnified in his ears. The sound of rustling vegetation from the left made him jump, his heart racing erratically. He’d only been fantasising to keep himself entertained, but what if it was true? What if, the moment he turned around, he’d be face to face with the gaping maw of some unspeakable creature? A cold breeze flew past him, making it clear what the sound was: the wind. There was nothing out there; just his fantasy.

 

A calm settled over Alleyn, and with it came weariness; both in body and mind. His legs were just as sore as they had been yesterday, if not more so, and the travel had drained him. It shouldn’t hurt, resting for a moment. Just to rest his body and fill his stomach. He could feel his stomach grumble at the thought of food, even if he couldn’t hear it. So be it. He’d rest, eat until he wasn’t hungry and wet his parched throat, then continue onwards.