Chapter 7

Sons of Ara

Thrush had pointed toward the north. He had said the three fat men weren’t too far away. I was curious to hear about this and went to scout them out. They ended up being quite a bit away from the cottage and I stayed hidden and waited until they passed me by.

They were traveling monks, it seemed. Each one had barley colored robes with a thick rope for a belt. From the way they ambled forward, I thought they seemed a bit new to traveling. Their faces were weary and exhausted, but their bodies had perfect posture and they kept going without pause. Their stride was exact and powerful.

Most astonishing was the amount of gear they each had. They each wore what must have started as a backpack. Piled upon each backpack were at least ten more backpacks worth of items, strapped together with precision. I spied bed rolls, furniture, several chests, stools, bundles of cloth, and a variety of items one wouldn’t normally travel with.

As they neared my position, I put my back to the large tree I hid behind. Not wanting to risk being seen, I stayed out of sight and listened.

“There’s no such thing as lost, Arnad!”

“Don’t ‘Arnad’ me. Whenever you’re the one leading, we’re always lost. Your shortcuts are never short, you know? Tell him, Joul!”

“Sorry Heldin, I’d have to agree with Arnad on this one. We’ve taken nearly a dozen of your shortcuts so far. None of them have worked.”

“Preposterous,” Heldin said. “A dozen shortcuts should be enough to tell you that we’re a dozen shortcuts closer to our destination!”

“Except they’re not shortcuts,” Arnad said. “They’re simply cuts. They’re missing the ‘short’ part. We always have to march faster to catch up to where we should be, after being slowed from getting snagged on bushes, trees, and squeezing through tight terrain!”

“...and climbing mountains,” Joul said.

“You two have been complaining an extraordinary amount since we left the Vale of Ara,” said Heldin. “At least you’re getting it out of your system. Therefore, I won’t let it bother me one bit! Venting is good! Until we reach the Peak of Ara, you might as well let loose a little bit and indulge in your frustrations!”

“You’ve got it backwards,” said Joul. “You’re not the one bothered, we are! Arnad and I are the ones bothered by you.”

Heldin grunted.

“Say, I have to remind you that our time is up for the day. Let’s start looking to camp for the night. We shouldn’t worry too much about snowfall for the next week. I have reason to suspect we’ll see a small warm spell.”

So they’re monks. Given their trajectory, they’re bound to come upon my cottage. Even if they veer off from their cardinal direction, they’re likely to run into one of the many trails and follow those to my cottage. Whether they’ll come knocking on my door, or not, is another matter.

It only took me a few more minutes to comfortably arrive at my decision. I would invite the monks to spend the night. Why not help peaceful travelers? ‘Peaceful’ was the key word there. I would be quite hesitant to offer that to any other travelers. I didn’t sense any malaise from the three men, but I would, of course, stay vigilant and prepared for anything.

I stepped out from my hiding place and quickly made my way after them. I had to jog to catch up with their impressive speed. I made ample noise so they’d hear me following.

“Sorry to startle you men!”

In an instant, all three men had moved from where they'd been. Heldin was in front of me, Arnad had moved at least two dozen feet to my left, and Joul had moved two dozen feet to my right. They had made their moves in the blink of an eye and kicked up quite a bit of snow in the process. Their wakes of snow drift rose up until blowing away.

Powerful men. Their speed is quite alarming. Their packs must weigh upwards of 400 pounds. The fact they ran such a distance so quickly…

“Hullo,” Heldin said, taking a sideways stance. “We are Sons of Ara, who are you? Friend or foe?”

“Hawkin Ballow. I’m a systemless hermit, one might say.”

The Sons of Ara visibly relaxed.

“That’s quite the feat, Hawkin. To sneak up on us like that.”

“I’m protective of these woods. When strangers are near, I’d like to know they won’t be a problem.”

“Awfully bold for someone who is systemless,” said Arnad.

“I wasn’t always systemless. I used to be on a quest path until I escaped into these woods a long time ago. I disabled my system. Left it all in the background to enjoy some peace and quiet. The adventuring life wasn't for me.”

“Alright. What can we do for you?” Heldin said.

“I overheard you. My cottage is just yonder. You’re welcome to stay the night. I’ve got some food I’m willing to share. A roof. Fire and warmth.”

The Sons of Ara shared glances and a silent conversation. I didn’t feel threatened by these men. They were obviously on a quest, and I didn’t think killing random hermits was part of their goals as monks.

Heldin turned to me and gave a warm jolly smile.

“That sounds alright to me, Hawkin. I’m Heldin. This is Joul and Arnad.”

I shook each one of their hands before leading them to my cottage. Thrush was absent. I had the feeling he didn’t want to be in the company of men. That was just a hunch, though.

The Sons of Ara complimented me on the grounds and the cottage when we arrived. The evening was just beginning to set and I resolved that we should share a drink together.

Perhaps a bit of sage or chicory tea?

“There’s not a lot of room in the cottage,” I said. “Might be best to leave your packs out by the wood pile around the back, or beside the door. Wherever you’d like, really. Would any of you like any tea? I’ll bake us some squash and put together a little salad.”

“Tea sounds quite right,” Heldin said. “I think we’d like to share some food and drink with you in return.”

“Let’s call it a feast then,” I said.

“Hardly a feast,” Joul said.

“I don’t often have visitors,” I said. “Might not be a feast for those bellies, but it will be for me.”

The Sons of Ara guffawed and slapped each other on the back. I led them inside and moved the table to the far end of the cabin by the bed. Then I gave each of them a thick folded wool blanket to sit on.

I stoked the fire in the stove and prepared some squash to cook. Then I set some water to boil while I prepared a salad to share.

“I’m a baker,” Arnad said. “Level 770 baker. I’d like to share a boulder loaf with everyone.”

“A boulder loaf!” Joul said. “This may just turn into a feast after all!”

“A feast of bread,” Heldin said. “That’s going to be a lot of bread. We can’t all possibly eat that in one sitting.”

“It’s a gift for Hawkin, in return for his hospitality,” Arnad said. “You do like bread, Hawkin.”

“Haven’t had bread in quite some time actually. I’ve got some nut flours, but I’m a little sparse on grain flours. Grasslands are a little far from me and I seldom make it out there.”

“Understandable,” said Heldin. “You’re going to have your fill of bread then.”

The Sons of Ara talked amongst themselves while I prepared a salad of garlic cress, leafy mustard greens, cracked touch-me-not leaves, and dried and aged sprouts. They each had their own bowls and I filled them as high as I could pile the salad. Then I poured everyone a nice hot cup of tea.

“Since this is a special occasion, I’ve made us some roasted chicory and sassafras tea,” I said.

Steam rose from each of our mugs and collected in a tangle on the ceiling. The smell of sweet root and roasted sugars filled the cottage. As we ate, each of the monks shared some of their favorite sights of their travel through these woods. The valley that ran parallel to the coast was the most popular topic, reminding me I should give it a visit before winter really sets in.

“Alright,” Arnad said. “Give me a moment here.”

He retrieved a few items from his pack outside. A burlap sack, a small jar, and a glass bottle. Heldin and Joul rubbed their hands together with excitement.

“Here we go!” Joul said.

Arnad took a moment to silently pray before beginning. He opened up the burlap sack, and waved a hand over the opening. A fountain of flour erupted from the sack and poured into mid-air, where it hovered. He closed the sack, then opened the bottle of water. He repeated the same gesture and water fountained out into mid-air and hovered separately from the flour. Then he opened the stone jar and waved a single finger over it. A small bit of powder—yeast—floated out and joined the water in mid-air.

We waited for a few minutes while the yeast and water formed a sphere and a foamy layer bubbled at the top. Then Arnad waved his hands together and incorporated the yeast and water, with the flour.

Then the show really began. Arnad rolled his hands round and round until the flour, yeast, and water started to become dough. Sufficiently pleased, Arnad began to make martial arts gestures with bursts of abrupt shouting.

“Ha! Hey! Huh! Ha!”

With every strike he made with his hands, the dough was folded over, rolled, and kneaded. AS the process continued, the dough started changing texture. Arnad’s eyes kept shifting focus between the dough and what I realized must be his system screen. He was using abilities and techniques he’d mastered over the years and accomplishing the system prompts to complete his task.

Heldin, Joul, and I sat back and watched in amazement and wonder. When he’d finished, Arnad wiped sweat from his brow and settled down into a meditative state. At that point, the dough began to proof. In only ten seconds, It nearly tripled in size. Arnad exited his meditative state and performed a few more kneading maneuvers.

Heldin leaned over and whispered, “Here comes my favorite part.”

Arnad then sat very still with his hands on his lap while he concentrated on the floating dough. He took a few deep breaths. I started to feel a warmth fill the room. The air around the floating dough wavered from heat. The warmth grew until it felt as hot as the stove. The intense heat washed over my face as I watched the bread bake faster than I’d ever thought possible. In just one short minute, a beautifully brown crust had formed around the dough.

Arnad held out a stretch of his robe and caught the boulder loaf when it fell. Joul and Heldin cheered him on and Arnad’s smile was so big it forced his eyes closed.

Incredible! Look at the size of it! No wonder they call it a boulder loaf!