《The Abandoned Sorcerer》38. Kajan
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Orion walked half-dazed, the soil squelching under his boots. It had been a month since the Seekers had left Visgamar, and the time spent in the wild showed on his body. His skin was tight, and his body was thin, burning through the food he had eaten a day before to keep his legs moving. There were dark bags under his eyes and he had a bronze tan.
A howl washed over the party, then another, and another. Orion stopped, listened, then continued trudging through the Kajan rainforest. Over the course of the journey, he had toughened and learned to use his limited energy effectively. The most important aspect to this skill was judging what was threatening and what was merely fear-inducing.
The surrounding rainforest was teeming with life. Battle cries and mating calls were alike the breath of the forest, as common as the droplets of rain sliding off leaves - rushing to arm yourself for each one was foolish. There were many smells around them, berries releasing crisp, sweet scents while the mud gave off an overwhelming tasteless scent. To a Westerner like Orion, the damp and heat together were a constant pain, condemning his thoughts to barely coherent passages.
His fellow Seekers around him reacted similarly to the howl, apart from Cyae. She somehow had the willpower to stay both vigilant and march over mud and branches alike. Orion had begun by respecting her for it, but after they had to butcher their horses for quick supplies, he began to hate her continued diligence.
Either way, it was little comfort but comfort nonetheless to know Kora and Lilith hated this trip as much as him. On the other hand, Joiroa tread through the mud with ease, his expression as passive as always. Maybe that was the benefit of being tortured, Orion thought, smirking a little.
As they toiled through the forest, the distant howls grew close. Scanning his surroundings, Orion slung his bag off his shoulders and onto a dry patch, nodding to Kora as she gave a thumbs up. Digging through his quiver, he picked several arrows rough with dried blood and put one to his bow, pulling the string and holding his stance. His breath slowed, and his heartbeat faded from his mind, his focus solely on the bushes in front.
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He heard a howl from his side but didn’t stir. It didn’t surprise him the pack had circled them, and as much as he hated and envied Cyae’s mind of steel, he equally trusted her to act as a deadly buffer in case of such a flank. Suddenly, a dark figure burst out of the wet clump of leaves in front; he released the bowstring, the arrow zipping through the air. He drew a second arrow and turned, releasing at another Tawny wolf as it emerged.
In his rush, he jabbed his finger against the shaft of an arrow but ignored the pain and kept firing, incapacitating the wolves. Moments later, he grasped at the quiver and grabbed thin air: he had held off making new arrows due to his daily exhaustion and now felt its price. Grinning manically at his fortune, he pulled his longsword and sidestepped an open-maw lunge. He struck as the wolf retreated, before rushing to end all the wolves he had crippled.
It was a matter of minutes before the forest grew momentarily quiet, Orion huffing as he skinned the fur off a wolf with his knife. Lilith joined him in this task while Kora leaned against her greatsword and Cyae surveyed the area. Joiroa eased down the tree he had scrambled up, coming to watch over Orion and Lilith as they got on with their task.
In less than an hour, they left the bloody area with enough meat for a day. Conversation had drawn to a still a long time ago so they followed the weather-beaten directions in the forest in silence.
While they got into two more minor fights along the way, Orion’s wish for weeks came to fruition several hours later as they were trying to decipher which way the wooden post had pointed before being clawed down by a cruel beast. A young man with strands of ginger in his beard, alike Flynn from long ago, strode from the bushes, a taut shortbow in his hand, the arrowhead gleaming in the light.
“Seekers?” he called in a friendly manner, his slitted eyes telling a different tale.
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“Yes, we’re here for the Awakening,” Cyae replied, meanwhile her hand edged towards her shield.
“Good,” the ginger man said, lowering his bow. He ignored the party gripping onto their weapons as he continued, “It’s best you follow me – these posts are far too old and broken to get you there,”
“And you are?” Kora asked, voicing the concern they all held.
“An instructor, I guess,” he replied. “And it’s best if you don’t test me – I don’t show mercy to idiots,”
“And where’s the proof?” Kora said.
He shook his head. “You’ve already been lucky to get all the way here without running into anything dangerous, you might as well trust that luck a bit longer. Now, come on,” He paced away from them.
The group looked at one another, each asking the same silent question while Joiroa stared into blank space. Lilith nodded and the others slowly came to, jogging to catch up to the ginger man who sped through the rainforest as if it was his garden. The man replied to their questions with short answers, keeping them on hold for tens of minutes until they came to a wide clearing in the forest.
In the clearing were several wooden huts with few people around. There was a large flag in the centre with the Seeker’s logo, a silhouette of a figure holding a sword. The ginger man led them towards another older man. This old man was clean shaven with heavy jowls under his neck and a large belly. He had been staring intently at the newcomers since they had entered his sight.
“Who are these, Leo?” asked the fat man. “Fresh blood?”
“That’s what they say, Jowler,” answered the ginger man.
“Where are you kids from? Who sent you, eh?” Jowler asked.
“Smith from Visgamar,” Cyae answered.
Jowler burst into laughter, all too similar to Smith. “Oh, that idiot. He gave you a letter or something, yeah?”
Cyae dug through her pack and gave him the letter.
He stared at it for several moments before smiling at them. “I knew the dark one wasn’t with you. Why’s he here?”
Joiroa, who had gotten bored waiting, was now looking around. The other Seekers turned to Orion at the question, including Kora.
“Uh, he’s a friend,” Orion said.
“What is he? A desert raider who spent too long in the sun? Does he speak the common tongue?”
Orion gulped and shook his head, the impulse of his earlier action now striking him as stupid.
“Well, the closest I’ve seen to such dark skin is from the Metoles and he certainly ain’t no Metole. And his eyes, I’ve never seen red eyes from anyone, not even the savages,” Jowler continued.
The emotions in their voices had attracted Joiroa back to the conversation, and he figured they were talking about him from the way they looked at him. He passively stared at Jowler, who scrutinised him back. Deep inside, Joiroa knew he should have let them kill him: better to have died than have entered this foreign land with no hope and no knowledge.
“Normally I wouldn’t let anyone in, but you know what, I’m interested in this guy. How about this, I’ll let him stay if you order him to stay with me over the period,” Jowler said.
Orion looked at him incredulously, wondering why he needed Orion’s permission for that. If Jowler was the boss here like he seemed, it wasn’t like Orion could deny him. Eventually, though, he regained his composure and nodded, to which the fat Seeker grinned.
“Good lad. Anyway, Leo, take them to their rooms. Let’s show them some hospitality after their tough journey,” Jowler said, to which the ginger Seeker grinned as if sharing a joke.
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