That night, as I settled in on the caravan for the first stretch of the trip, I realized several things. The past few hours had been a blur of blind obedience, unexpected and strangely comforting; I was actually leaving Vehl; and that I was leaving Vehl the same way I came in, on a merchants' caravan.They had smiled kindly when I asked how far it was to Center, to Trelania. This caravan wasn't going that far, but they'd see me off at an exchange point that would continue on the journey. I vowed to myself I wouldn't pick any pockets from those I travelled with, so long as they didn't start anything. But I would still need to keep my skills up. The chalk would be unreplaceable on the road, so I kept it tucked away in an inside pocket of my vest. Instead, I had picked up a bright stone, small enough to palm, large enough to be a challenge. I amused myself by making it disappear and reappear in my hands, my clothing, anywhere I could reach that didn't disturb my fellow passengers. Anything to keep my mind blandly occupied. I wasn't certain I wanted to sleep until I reached Trelania.She'd asked about parents. I couldn't keep that thought at bay any longer. No one had so much as blinked about anything I had done in so long that the question took me by surprise, and I hoped I hadn't given anything away with my expression or answer. And here I was, probably going past... I didn't even know the name. Or where it was specifically. Or whether it was still a ruin. Certainly, it wouldn't still be there, smoking in the ground, the scent of blackened timbers and charred flesh filling the air-"Hey boy, dinner's cooked. Better tuck in while it's hot." One of the other passengers scuffed a foot near me, not touching.I shook my head, thankful my hood was covering my face. A quick pass with the back of my hand told me my eyes were damp but not wet. How long had we been stopped for the night? Long enough. I should have been out helping, keep the others from thinking I was a freeloader. There was no way I'd be able to eat with the rest of the wagon. The man chopping wood for the night was eyeballing the fire and food as if it were the first of either he'd seen in a month. I silently took over the chopping for him, and he practically floated over to join the circle. After I was done chopping, I slipped a cut potato onto the coals. After everyone else was done eating and gone to sleep, it would be cooked and ready. And I hoped I would be able to stomach it.That first night, I was completely unable to sleep. Helped keep watch with a grizzled trailhand who enjoyed silence as much as he enjoyed his pipe. We exchanged no names, it would have required more than the polite, cursory grunts of greeting we traded. He shooed me off to sleep after midnight, and went to wake the next watch. I sat up in the corner of the wagon I'd staked out, eating my potato slowly to stave off both hunger and sleep as long as possible. Exhaustion overtook me shortly before dawn.She'd asked about my- Well, and why wouldn't she? Most people had them, or so I heard. Even if they were neglectful or in jail, married to the sea or working constantly to try and survive, everyone had them. I wondered if her parents knew what she did. They'd probably be happy to hear she had the extra True just to pay someone to travel from one end of the continent to the other. To find her again. What if she weren't there in Leringard when I got there? I'd keep looking, I decided. It would be another test.I had to believe she actually wanted to see me again, that it wasn't just on some lark she decided to give a stranger a bag of money and instructions on how to find her. Shifting slightly, I felt my rolled-up spare clothes behind my hip, the comforting shape of the bag of beans within, and the majority of my secret stash from her inside that bag, hidden under the beans. There was enough True from that bag stored away in my hidden pockets and clothing to cover the trip to Trelania, and a little besides, because only a fool leaves all his money in one place. Even still, extra caution never hurt.The caravan rolled on, and I watched the road wind behind us.
Some days, she doesn't speak at all. Those are the hardest. Have to throw myself into absorbing everything she throws at me. She accepted me as a student, have to prove it wasn't a mistake. I'm not some useless street brat. She said it was my future to make, I want it to be... Well. I know what I want.I haven't given it to her yet. I still have it. The longer I learn from her, the more certain I am I want her to have it.Poetry, of all things. Going to see if I can find that book.(Some lines are written in miniscule writing, then meticulously scribbled out.)Bathe, then eat.Can barely move, most days. She doesn't show any of it, just wipes the sweat away, tells me to get a drink, eat lunch, and come back and practice until sunset. Dark to dark.Some days, she calls it bladedancing. Some days, she doesn't speak at all. Those are the days I don't dare step foot in the bath afterwards. I wash up in my room and collapse on the nearest surface. Woke up leaning against the desk more than once. Couldn't have told how I ended up there, except it's closest to the basin. Didn't want that much water near the weapon rack or books. If these pages get watered, well. No one's mistake but my own. Not like I try to write anything of consequence down.Couldn't possibly put into actual words how she moves, anyways. Deliberate lightning? Anything I can think of doesn't do the sight justice. I'm not even a shadow next to her. But I think I'm getting better, a little. I catch spots I need to improve more easily than I used to.Thought about leaving my hood down the other day, just while we were downstairs. She hasn't said one way or the other about it. Not yet. Burn that bridge when we get to it, I guess.Some days, she is silent. I try to match her for it, some days, and just absorb. Other days, feel like I can't still my tongue, and those days I bite it hard enough to bleed so it doesn't say something stupid. Throw every bit of energy I have into not saying anything, just training.Thankfully, some days, she can manage a word or two, and those days are easier.Haven't had time to do more than collapse for a few hours a night in weeks. I don't think I've slept this well in my entire life.Some nights, I still feel restless. I don't want to end this, but. This silence is going to be the death of me.
A search for corn took me across the continent. Met death at the fangs of a wolf and walked through the peaceful nothing until I returned. Ran the next time I realized I was outnumbered, only to have the wolf follow me into Center and snap my heels until death grabbed me a second time. Came back from that and saw the wolf's carcass limp and bloody near the chickens.Chickens in Center must come from hardy stock.The climate wasn't ideal for corn, it only grew sparsely near Center. There were good amounts of corn in Cor'ys, especially near Vehl, but I refused to take another caravan along the spine of the continent. Sailed around instead, ending up remembering why I used to avoid the docks there the moment I stepped offship. Kept my head down, moved quickly through the masses, remembering the old paths and walking patterns.It took a good amount of time, hunting enough wild corn to fill two boxes.Had to stomach the docks in Vehl once more to get back to Leringard.The Arms was as close to a home as I'd had in years, but I couldn't stay until sorting rent out. Had a long talk with Steel on matters unrelated to rent, and a long talk with Viper. Ended up on the road again, looking for practice.Ended up traveling with a spellcaster for a while, fighting our way down into goblin-infested depths, and back out again after liberating two potions from a trapped chest and a head from a goblin. The reward from that head was enough that I wouldn't need to worry about rent for a while, if I were careful.We parted ways at the Saddlebag Pawn shop, with a promise to have each other's backs again, should the opportunity arise.
The bed had never looked so tempting. Was near dawn, light starting to filter in through the windows of the Arms. The ache of practice last night was misery when added to cleaning afterwards. Armor wasn't so bad to clean, but apples had exploded everywhere in the practice room. They'd browned and partially dried during exercises while I'd been learning to dodge more effectively.Then she'd had me strap into plate, of all things. Plate. It weighed half as much as me, I'd bet. Then had me do katas in it. Felt close enough to sweating to death after all was done. Never look at a loaf of bread quite the same way after this.Cleaned the armor after, glad to know at least that much from a job I'd done a lifetime ago. Gathered up the apples, sorted them into bruised, mush, and 'not worth saving'. Took all but the last pile up to the kitchen with the bag she'd brought down. Got a heavy sigh from the cook and a request to come back afer cleaning to fix those.Scrubbed the basement to within an inch of its life and the skin of my knuckles to within a hair's width of theirs. Hands were pale and waterlogged as a rat at the docks by the time I got back up to the kitchen. The mangled apples were still waiting, with a scrawled note as to what was to be done with them. Another hour found me at the tail end of that task, weary beyond belief.After the last necessities, I looked at the bed, and collapsed on the other side of the room, so there wouldn't be a temptation to climb on it half-asleep. My last thought before sleep overtook me was that she will still teach me. The smile was the last thing I remembered before falling asleep.
If I wrote poetry, what would it be about?Wouldn't write poetry. Words aren't something 'm good with. But if I had to? Be about blades and silence.She refused the candle and flower. That stung worse than the you'retooyoung-you'reconfused-youdon'tknowwhatyouwant speech ever could have. Meant nothing else by them, said as much, but it wasn't good enough. Not important to her, she keeps nothing that is not needed. Rarely changes her mind about important things. Probably never does for unimportant things. Should have guessed she wouldn't be interested in some old, half-forgotten memory.Threw them in the fire after she left. Had meant it when I told her they were extra. Put mine in the chest with the untouched dried fish. Probably wouldn't bring luck anyways. Just an old wives' tale.Pining doesn't help a thing. She was right about that much. That doesn't change anything, either.Blades and silence. Going to practice katas and contemplate the Axioms.
Finally cleared out the sewers in Hempstead, with expert help from a halfling named Kenzie. She also knew where to find the kobold camp that Captain Trent was asking after, and helped clear that out as well. Learned better tactics as a result. Kenzie lured the kobolds one at a time, so I could sneak behind them and attack while they were distracted. That must have been what Viper was referring to, ages ago. It was a good experience, and a good chance to learn. She mentioned something about scarecrows near Fort Homestead on Alindor, where my next job will take me.Going to take time to prepare for that, don't know how easy it would be to get back to Leringard.Exhausted, dragged myself back to the Arms. Had some drinks and a talk. Realized the answer to a question she had asked for, and told her. Was summarily told off, but it's important enough to me to keep up on, no matter what.
Almost thoroughly lost in *Alindor*, but it's only been a handful of days since I got here. *Paths* aren't as defined as on *Mistone*. Was able to find a walnut *tree*, but only because I happened to have seen the walnuts on the *ground*, broken open and eaten by the local animals.Didn't walnuts get used for dye? Funny, the things you remember. Wouldn't have the slightest clue how to do it now.Trying to practice the cards she gave me. Maybe someday we'll have an actual conversation that way, without my having to spell it all out.Happened across some rangers in a *wood*, but they didn't bother me, so I didn't bother them.Got thoroughly *lost* shortly after finding the rangers. Found a few truly mysterious *places*. *A temple*, of sorts, with nymphs all around. A huge, old *battlefield*, with a *white* dragon and a *black* dragon, and *glowing* *pillars*, and a *stone* scorpion, and strange figures across an expanse of *water* I was certain I did not want to cross to examine further.And a *sign*, "Beware, beyond this sign lies the lands of Milara."Heeded the *sign*, and continued trying to get both *more and less lost*. One or the other would happen, and at times getting *more lost* shows the *path* to *follow*.Found a *temple* of Elements, and a series of *waterfalls*, and a *long, red river*. Picked *apples* there to replace what I've taken. Found giants, and left the *area* slowly, even though I saw almond *trees* nearby. Too risky. Accidentally wandered into a *swamp*. Left after finding trolls and before they spotted me.Wound up back at *Katherian*, where I'd *docked* in the first place. Was pondering the riddles posed to me about a slaver near a slave *marketplace*, when an unlikely *guide* appeared. It was so utterly unexpected, we'd been headed to completely different *continents*. Stared in confusion while I followed her without a second thought.We headed into the *swamps* deliberately, and I tried not to embarass myself or cause more trouble. Can only think she was expecting to find me, she had enough *supplies* to keep us both patched up while we fought and slogged our way through the *swamps*.She showed me the *path* to *Fort Homestead*. Probably would never have found it deliberately on my own. *Roads* in *Alindor* are more complicated than in *Mistone*.
Had words.
Maybe she's right, a little bit. Not about everything.
Left a note and an apple in the *chest* in the *basement*. Borrowed some gear for practicing. Not going to use any of it in combat, shouldn't be hard to keep in good enough repair until I come back.
Heading out for a while. Check out some new *roads*, look for new perspective.
Thought about leaving her a note, but I wouldn't know what to say or when to stop.
Finally feels like the practice has paid off. Months now. Armor on first thing, run through the drills, armor off, polish, put away, clean up and head out from camp, travel to wherever, armor on at the end of the day, run through the drills, armor off, polish, put away. Shield, weapons, all get their turn. When on the *road*, though, keep to what I'm best with, leather and short swords. If I end up in a fight, try to hit the opponent in places where weak points in armor would be, if it is not wearing any. Good practice for when an opponent is wearing armor, and helps tie in my practice.Tried fighting an actual opponent with a quarterstaff, just to see. It went less well than hoped. Flipped back to my swords as soon as I could. Luckily, they're always close to hand.Thought about whether I should name them. Decided not to. Likely to find better ones sometime. No sense getting all sentimental about this pair.Found interesting information in scrolls at the *Silver Arms Inn*. And a *statue* by Razeriem, will have to ask Zari about that. Slightly less interesting than the other pieces I found, though. And something similar in *Fort Vehl*, of all *places*. Coincidence? If not coincidence, why *Fort Vehl*? What is, or was, there that made it so important?At night, I don't let myself sleep long. Don't need that trouble to come back. Bad enough it started back up before I left *Leringard*. How long has it been now since I left? Months, by my count. Not half a year, but not far from.Hope is all I have left now. Useless, wild hope. It might not keep me warm at night, but it keeps getting me up in the morning.When the *road* provides too much distraction, the *crafting halls* and *kitchens* have *places of interest*. Have tried cloth-making, bread-making, and an ill-thought attempt at tanning. Went badly. Cloth and flours seem to be best for now.Met an interesting person named Magnar in the *Fort Vehl* *crypts*, while trying to complete a task set by the *caretaker*. Magnar was very devout in his dedications, very skilled with a blade, and very free with his prayers. Certainly, he livened up the *crypt* and *travel* during our time together. Also gave me a loaf of dwarven bread, for which I gave two scrolls I hadn't quite figured out how to use. Had also acquired an overwhelming number of skeleton knuckles, so I gave him half my supply, and received a very fair trade of one potion for every three knuckles.Ran out of scroll.