“No, don’t be ridiculous. I thought only Carl, may he rest in peace, had dumb ideas like this. And take that damned spear out of his face. You barely know how to use it.”

  The guard jerked his arm back, letting the spear tip drop to rest by his ankle. On top of the wagon, the speaker, an old woman, shook her head and continued her speech, muttering under her breath. Somehow the sound still traveled to us.

  “When I said take the spear away, I didn’t mean take a vacation! Riftspawn could jump us at any moment. Keep that spear ready!”

  The guard straightened at once, snapping the spear tip back into the air. His eyes flicked past me, scanning the forest with renewed urgency.

  Now that I had a moment, I took a sharp inhale, then exhaled slowly, trying in vain to steady my heartbeat and still my trembling legs. I stole a glance at the guard. He clearly had some problems if he was jumpy enough to kill anyone who emerged from the woods. No guard would look at me and think dangerous. I shuddered to imagine what might have happened if the old woman hadn’t intervened. I could have met my end with no one the wiser. It would have been an execution with him as my executioner.

  The guard in front of me wore a fuzzy black fur hat that perched atop his head with an air of unpracticed formality. His light brown wool tunic flowed nearly to feet. A dark leather waistband cinched his outfit, and a muted gray cloak draped over his shoulders, the fabric swaying slightly as he shifted. His almond-toned baby face was unblemished and youthful. It struck me, then, that he was likely around my age. Perhaps he was even younger.

  The old woman, by contrast, was nearly as old as our own town’s wise one. Her wrinkled skin spoke of a lifetime of untold stories, while her eyes, sparkling with laughter, suggested that that very lifetime might have been one long, amusing joke. Though a massive blanket draped over her shoulders obscured her clothing, I imagined they must have been as practical and unassuming as the guard’s. Even now, her finger jabbed aggressively in our direction, and I braced myself, expecting her sharp tongue to strike yet again.

  “You can relax those shoulders, Dougles! How do you expect to hold a spear all day with a grip like that? Honestly, maybe I should…”

  Her words were cut off as an older man approached, laying a steadying hand on the guard’s shoulder. He shared a brief look with the younger man before turning to me and offering his hand.

  “Let me be the first to apologize for both my nephew’s enthusiasm and Nana Glob’s infamous tongue,” he said, his calm tone putting me at ease. “My name is Dreth. It’s been a long road for us, and tensions are higher than they’d be back home. What brings you to this part of the forest? There’s nothing for miles.”

  His appearance mirrored his nephew’s: almond-toned skin, a thin nose, and light eyebrows. Yet, his short, neatly groomed hair as well as his confident expression set him apart. His clothes were of the same style, but he wore them with a grace that suggested he would be at ease anywhere in the world..

  I shook his hand. “You can call me Vidal. My friend and I were hunting in the woods when we got lost and stumbled upon your caravan. It seems we gave you a bit of a scare.”

  Dreth’s forehead creased for only a second. “It’s a dangerous road that makes dangerous men. The Hounds no longer have the manpower to patrol the roads in a satisfactory manner.”

  He sighed. “Say, we’re looking for a place to stay the night before we continue on our way. Do you know if there is a clearing we can aim for roughly a day’s journey from here?”

  A sudden idea struck me. If I could convince them to stay at Tristvale, it would give me an opportunity to ask for some advice on how to use a sword. I could tear their brain for information about the Redcloaks, the Claw, and any Riftspawn movements. In fact, there was even a chance they might be going to the Capital.

  “Tristvale isn’t far from here,” I said, leaning forward slightly eagerly knowing he wouldn’t be able to say no. “I’m sure the mayor would offer you a comfortable spot at one of the nearby farms. You could even do some trading while you’re there. The beer at the bar is excellent, and the Redcloak patrols always bring the latest news. It would be the perfect spot for a good night’s rest.”

  Dreth’s eyes instinctively darted toward Nana Glob before he caught himself. His eyes narrowed in thought as he considered my suggestion, and I wondered what doubts might be holding him back. They clearly needed a proper rest, and there was nothing but upside to spending a day in Tristvale.

  “I appreciate the suggestion,” he began, “but we can’t waste time resting in a town. We’d be happy to give you a ride if we’re headed in the same direction, but time is of the essence for us.”

  “Oh, shut up, Dreth,” Nana Glob cut in, her voice sharp as a bullwhip. “Your decision-making might be half as bad as Carl’s, but you’re still an idiot twice over. We’re stopping in Tristvale so us old folk can rest, the children can play, and you can fret in a pub for a bit. Ten days of non-stop travel is enough! We’re safe here.”

  She gestured for me to hop onto the wagon with a wave of her wrinkled hand. “Come on, Vidal. Keep an old woman company and show us the way.”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Dreth shook his head in disbelief, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he gestured for me to climb aboard.

  “My friend is still in the woods,” I said quickly.

  Nana Glob rolled her eyes and made a shooing motion. “What are you waiting for? I’m getting older by the second. Go fetch him already!”

  I walked back in the woods shouting Stoney’s name until I found him hiding in the shrubs. After explaining the misunderstanding with the spear, we hurried to catch up to the caravan. Eventually, I found myself back at the front and was brought back to Nana Glob while Stoney ended up conversing with a few of the teenagers our age. The thought to walk back on the hunting trail never even crossed my mind.

  For the first leg of the journey, we rode in silence, watching the trees slide by. The air here was thick, heavier than the woods near Tristvale. The shadows stretched deeper, and the trees loomed older, ancient witnesses to a world that had changed countless times. We were close to the untamed forest here.

  “Do you see that tree?” Nana Glob finally broke the silence, her voice steady and contemplative. “Look at it. That cherry maple started as a seed during the War of the Pretender. It grew tall and strong when the gods flourished and fell, growing to its present height at the birth of the Empire. Even through the last Rift surge during the War of the Rift, it survived.”

  She gestured toward the tree. It was majestic, towering, a testament to time. But her words stirred nothing in me. It was just a tree. It hadn’t done anything in all that time. It hadn’t participated in any of those events, hadn’t left a legacy anyone would remember when it finally keeled over and died.

  She must have sensed my indifference because she sighed, shaking her head as though disappointed.

  “Permanence, steadiness, and capability,” she said, her tone like ripples on a pond. “Those are the hallmarks of success. Think of how many seeds that tree has spread, how wide its family has grown. You? I can see you. You might be even more of an idiot than the late Carl. A candle flickering in the corner of a dark room. Quit mooning over spears and actually do something with your life.”

  “First off, I wasn’t mooning over the spear,” I shot back, heat rising in my voice. “And I am going to do something with my life. Soon, I’ll be tested. I’ll travel to the Academy, and then I’ll be captain of one of the Claws. Riftspawn will fear my name. That will be my legacy. That will be my everlasting flame. A tree could never compete with me.”

  Her finger jabbed me square in the chest, hurting nearly as much as her words. “Arrogant as well as stupid. I should have guessed.” Her eyes narrowed. “Let’s say you test and you don’t have a gift. What then? What will you do with your life? In all my years, I’ve seen less than one in ten pass the test. One in ten. There’s glory to be had in places other than the battlefield, boy.”

  I had heard the same arguments too many times before. My parents, my teacher, even other adults in the village. They were a hivemind of doubt. The same doubts crept in sometimes, in the dead of night, whispering at the edges of my resolve. But I wasn’t about to admit that to her.

  “It’s about time the imperial judge came to test our village,” I said, my voice steady and unwavering. “And I’ll pass. I know I will.”

  Her eyes gleamed with something unreadable. Amusement? Challenge? She leaned forward, her tone almost playful now.

  “Let’s find out.”

  A chill ran down my spine as Nana Glob locked eyes with me. For a moment, I wondered if I had underestimated the mind behind those eyes. But with a blink of the eyes, her half smirk was back, and I was left to wonder if I had imagined the whole thing.

  She reached behind her into the cart and pulled out a large rectangular tray, deftly locking it onto the bench between us. The edge of the tray had a shallow protrusion running along its border, as though designed to contain something or perhaps to keep it from spilling over. My curiosity grew as she reached under her blanket and produced a handful of small, smooth river pebbles, tossing them into the tray with a soft clatter.

  I picked one up, slowly turning it over in my fingers. It was a plain gray pebble, worn smooth by time and water. I could have been the one to pluck it out of the river. I let it slip between my fingers, hearing it clink against the others as it settled back into the tray.

  Before I could ask what she was doing, Nana Glob gently placed two decks of cards and a small metallic scale on the table. Her movements were deliberate, almost ritualistic. She gestured for me to pick up one of the decks, but instead, I flipped over the top card.

  The artwork on the card was stunning. I would say it was almost haunting. A massive stone giant was depicted carving itself free from the side of a mountain, its colossal form emerging amidst a sky of dark blues and swirling black. In the foreground, smaller statues littered the scene, their intricate expressions frozen mid-motion. Some seemed to be preparing for war, while others knelt in what could have been worship or fear.

  The sheer artistry left me breathless. Whoever had painted this card must have labored for days, if not weeks, to capture every detail so perfectly.

  “What is this?” I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.

  I had seen something similar once, in my mentor’s hut back in the village. His deck of cards was dusty and well-worn, its edges and colors softened by time and use. Though I’d never played with him, I had flipped through the cards when he wasn’t looking. They depicted fanciful stories, mythical beings, and strange battles. To me, they had always seemed more like a storybook than an actual game.

  “At the highest level of competition,” Nana Glob began, her voice carrying an almost theatrical gravity, “it is a duel. It is a contest to determine which of two beings incapable of fighting is stronger. For those matches, the cards are infused with dust worth more than a town and are played with precise purpose and boundless creativity until one side is defeated.”

  Her lips curled upward as her eyebrows raised. “For us, however, it’s merely a way to keep you from getting bored on this journey while you humor an old lady.”

  Bored? The longer I spent around Nana Glob, the more I realized nothing about her was boring.