Chapter 12: Travels and Trials

“Get up. We have slept long enough.” Junia shook Mylo violently and kicked Pierre.

The swordsman pawed at her leg, but his sleep-addled reflexes missed her entirely. “A basket of roses, you are.”

“Just get up.” Junia raided the remains of the waystation to find the scraps left behind by the bandits. The noise made it hard to fall back asleep.

Mylo stretched. A collection of hazy clouds muted the early morning light. Frost kissed the grass and left frozen puddles behind. He shivered and shrugged his fur-lined coat on. It was stiff with the cold. Hopefully, the sun would burn off the cold mist and warm the world once it fully rose.

“I found a handful of worn blankets, mismatched medical supplies, a spool of rope, a firestone, and a torn hammock.” Junia set everything on the remains of the table.

“Don’t forget the water canteens and weapons I found yesterday.” Pierre stifled a yawn.

Mylo folded and tied the worn blankets into makeshift packs for each of them to carry a handful of the supplies. “At least you both have weapons.”

“I think I saw another sword, a bit banged up, but usable against monsters.” Pierre patted his sword hilt.

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m not a swordsman.” Mylo imagined the trouble he would get into with a blade like that. “I’m more likely to cut myself than someone else.”

“I can teach you to make a spear.” Junia offered but took a second glance at him. “I don’t think you will have the strength to use it.”

“How do you usually fend off monsters?” Pierre asked.

“My tactics usually involved outrunning, outsmarting, or hiding from whatever wants to kill me.”

Pierre laughed, “Your honesty will get you killed.”

“You relied on your powerstone to save you.” Junia grimaced. “I will fix that.”

Mylo didn’t like the sound of that.

Pierre crossed his arms. “Oh, you’ll ‘fix’ him, huh? I think you have very little to teach him. He has the frame and speed to be a sword fighter.”

“He lacks the coordination. A staff requires only strength and muscle memory.”

“Hold up, don’t I get a say in this?” Mylo pushed the two of them apart. “If you are willing, I will learn both. I never say no to a new skill.”

“We will train at first break. For now, I want you to carry both of our packs to build your strength.” Junia led them at a brisk pace. The bandit’s tracks were easy to follow at first. They had left the way station en-mass, breaking through the underbrush, leaving a hundred footsteps in the mud.

The trees changed from pine to leafless. Every snap and crackle made Mylo jump. Perhaps taking the first watch last night hadn’t been the best idea.

Mylo constantly prayed to the Preserver for wisdom, bravery, and willpower to go through with his plan. He had to take the healing powerstone from the Bandit King. Then someone could kill the Bandit King and the whole scheme would be done with.

But if he took the powerstone back in front of an audience of a thousand bandits, everyone would know his name and mask as the one with the healing powerstone. Every power-hungry fool in the Outlands would hunt him. He would have to reinvent himself. Zephyr, he might even have to fashion a new mask and bury his patah’s possum mask. The only thing his patah had ever given him.

A numb acceptance was all that he felt, and for some reason, that made him sad.

Junia planted her feet and swung her staff toward Mylo’s head.

He ducked the blow and stumbled back. The weight of the supplies made him collapse to the ground. “What?!”

Junia offered her hand to help him up. “Your reflexes are good, and you are paying attention to your surroundings.”

“A bit barbaric, don’t you think?” Pierre said, leaning up against a nearby tree.

“And bandits are perfect gentlemen.” Junia countered with a sneer.

“I am.” Pierre distributed the water canteens. “But then again, I am not your average bandit.”

A swikel flew through a tiny portal, singing a cheery song which turned to confusion at the new surroundings. The little water sensing bird was a very desirable pet in the Outlands. Before Mylo could lure it over, it returned through the portal to find it's master. Junia and Pierre didn't seem to notice the bird's appearance or disappearance.

“Oh!” Junia exclaimed, looking at the base of a tree. There was a sign hastily carved into it. “My grandfather is leading the bandits for the Foggy Valley. This will give us the time we need to catch up with them, but we must hurry!”

“I thought we were hurrying!” Pierre grumbled, struggling to get through the foliage in Junia’s wake. Every branch seemed to hit him in the face or tug at his once-white shirt.

Mylo brought up the rear of the trio and dealt with each branch and leaf more carefully.

“Hullo!” The unknown male voice brought Junia to a halt.

Pierre almost didn’t stop in time. “A bit of warning...”

“State your intentions.” Junia changed the grip on her spear, her stance changing to defensive.

“We’re just fellow travelers making our way to the Yellowdream village. Thought we should announce our presence when we saw you armed so fiercely.”

Mylo searched the trees and bushes, but the source of the voices was cleverly hidden.

“How many are you?” Junia asked.

“Just two.” Said another younger male voice.

“Perhaps we could join you if you are going the same way.” The first man said.

Junia looked at Mylo and raised an eyebrow. She spoke in a hushed tone, “The Yellowdream village is along the way to the Foggy Valley, and they would provide additional safety.”

“Let’s get a look at them before we decide,” Pierre said, his voice tight.

Mylo glanced between them. “I agree. Ask them to come out.”

“Show yourself,” Junia commanded.

The two men scrambled out of the bramble and bush, pulling twigs from their hair. A young Animalian exile and an older Mineralite exile. They looked weary and worn.

“Where are your supplies?” Pierre asked.

The Mineralite grunted, “Stolen. Some madman claiming to be king of the Outlands had his lackeys take everything since we wouldn’t join him.”

“We are lucky to have escaped with our lives.” The young Animalian intoned.

“Don’t trust them.” Pierre whispered. “Tell them to go on their way.”

“Maybe they will want to help us against the Bandit King?” Mylo said.

“Give me your word as a Mineralite that what you speak is the truth,” Junia commanded.

“If I had my powerstone, I would swear on that, but since I don’t, I swear on the breath of the Creator that what I speak is truth.” The Mineralite put a hand over his heart.

“Then it is settled. You will travel with us until we reach the Foggy Valley, and then you will continue onto the Yellowdream village.” Junia caught Pierre’s eye and waited for him to challenge her.

He frowned and crossed his arms. Junia had made herself the leader to these men and there was nothing he could do about it without making the entire group seem weak.

As they traveled together, Mylo picked berries and distributed them to the rest of the group. They were sour, but eased the growing hole in his stomach.

During each water break, Junia had him hold large stones or branches and do a series of stretches that left him sweating profusely and just as sore as if he had healed from a major injury. The worst part was the soreness didn’t fade like it usually did. It was just there; every second of every moment.

Junia pushed them to continue until the sun began to set. The twilight sent a chill down his spine as the noises of the forest changed from birds and squirrels to crickets and owls.

“I will return with something to eat. Get a cooking fire going.” Junia stalked into the forest and left them with the two travelers.

“I’ll go collect some dry wood.” The Mineralite headed the opposite way.

The young Animalian collected stones. “She’s not one for talking much, just ordering around, hmm?”

Pierre grunted, “Watch it. She’s the only reason you two are going along with us.”

“What’s your name?” Mylo dragged fallen branches to set up a makeshift shelter. He would sleep in the tree, but not everyone had mastered that skill.

The young man tensed. “I don’t give my name to strangers.”

“Most exiles don’t. My exile name is Awesome Possum.”

“How do you get an exile name?” The young man created a ring of stones and worked on collecting dry grass and leaves to fill it.

“Unlike your tribe name, you just choose it,” Pierre answered. “I chose to fashion my mask after a Croon, so I picked the name Masked Bandit.”

The Mineralite returned with an armful of dry wood. “Don’t let them pressure you into picking your name. It should mean something to you.”

“And what is your name, then?” Pierre crossed his arms.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Easier than calling you Mineralite all the time.” He made the word into an insult.

“Works for me.” The Mineralite’s eyes hardened.

Mylo shrugged. “Let it go, Masked Bandit.”

Junia returned with two skinned and gutted rabbits. Mylo roasted them over the fire until they were tender and delicious.

“I mean, they are a bit plain, wouldn’t you say?” Pierre said of the meal.

Mylo blinked at his comment as he sucked the marrow from the bones.

“How long ago were you banished?” Junia asked with amusement. “These are delicious.”

“I agree with the Croon, but I am surprised he could tell the difference.” The Mineralite poked fun at the mask Pierre wore. "A strange choice, almost as strange as a possum one might say."

Pierre grinned. “They have banished me many years ago, but I’m not a savage. If we had saved the berries from the little snack Awesome Possum so kindly provided, we could have made a compote. I bet we could find some sweet grass to thicken it and balance the sour bite.”

“A chef.” Junia bit off a sarcastic laugh. “You speak like one who knows how to cook.”

“I am many more things than I am not.” Pierre shrugged.

“What is that supposed to mean?” The young Animalian asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Pierre stretched.

“Would you cook for us tomorrow?” Mylo asked. He had never heard of a compote before, but the Mineralite seemed impressed by the word and sweet grass mixed with berries sounded interesting. He hadn’t eaten anything like that before.

“I will cook for you and Junia, but these two need to move on tomorrow,” Pierre stated, putting his hand on his sword hilt.

The Mineralite put a hand on the young boy and moved him to stand behind him.

Junia glared at Pierre. “No, you don’t. You’ll travel with us until we have to go our separate ways.”

“I agreed to come with you because the Bandit King has something of mine.” Pierre said, “I’m not here to help you run your wayfinding business.”

The Animalian and Mineralite looked between the two and whispered to each other. This was exactly what Mylo had been afraid of. They would never agree to join their fight now.

Junia stood up, gripping her quarterstaff. “Do you want to have a repeat of the first time we met?”

“I think you and I both know it wouldn’t go down the same way.” Pierre narrowed his eyes, taking his sword partway out of its sheath.

“Whether they move on in the morning or go with us, they aren’t going anywhere tonight, right?” Mylo asked.

Pierre grit his teeth. “I am not a monster.”

“Then can we discuss this in the morning?” Mylo looked between the two warriors.

Junia was the first to lower her weapon. “The possum speaks the truth.”

Pierre grumbled something unsavory in Animalian under his breath. “Mark my words, this is a mistake.”

***

Mylo woke with a headache and a lump on the side of his head the size of a harnak egg. He must have fallen out of the tree while he was sleeping. That hadn’t happened since he was a young child.

The sun had risen many hours ago. Pierre hadn’t woken him for a second watch.

Mylo sat up and regretted it immediately. “Junia? Masked Bandit?”

No answer.

Junia groaned from inside the shelter, “Keep it down, my head hurts.”

Mylo stumbled around the camp, looking for a canteen.

All of their supplies were gone. The travelers were gone, and so was Pierre.

Now the lump on his head made sense. They had bludgeoned him so he wouldn’t be able to follow them.

“What has you all in a knot?” Junia asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Pierre, the two travelers, and what little supplies we had are missing.” Mylo hissed.

Junia straightened, and she spat, “Blackheart!”

She rummaged around the camp, finding the same thing he did; nothing. They had even taken her spear and shield.

Junia turned on him, wielding an accusatory finger like a weapon. “This is your fault!”

“My fault?” Heat burned his ears and his throat tightened. “How could you even think-?”

“I didn’t trust him.” Junia gestured to their abandoned camp, “And now here we are, without a single thing to our name!”

“What about those two vagabonds?” Mylo choked out the words. “You didn’t ask, you just ordered everyone around.”

Junia paused, and said gravely, “They gave their word.”

Mylo gestured towards the heavens in something between frustration and a prayer. “People lie, Junia.”

The Ambidextrous Amphibian, the Masked Bandit, those nameless thieves.

A discordant cord played in his heart, and a wave of despair crashed over him. His bluster left in a rush and he slumped, covering his face. “They lie, steal, and cheat their way through life without a care to the people around them.”

“Well.” Pierre’s voice came from behind him. “If that’s how you feel, maybe I’ll keep these supplies for myself, then.”

Mylo’s head snapped up, unsure if he actually could believe his eyes and ears. “You’re back!”

Pierre had a smug grin as he offered the spear to Junia. “I told you we should send them away.”

Junia accepted it, turning it over in her hand. Her eyes searched his face for an answer, “How? Why?”

“They were thieves,” Pierre waved off the question. “Fortunately for you, I’m a better thief.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“Oh, good, now you are suspicious?” Pierre’s smile hardened. “So why should you trust me, other than the fact I risked my neck to get your things back? I don’t want some washed-up Mineralite king lording over us any more than you do, so I have a vested interest in seeing you succeed.”

“And as soon as the Bandit King is defeated?” Junia asked. This question was important to her.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Pierre said. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

“At least I know where we stand.” Junia strapped the shield to her back. “We need to cover more ground before nightfall to make up for the time we spent unconscious.”

“If we push ourselves now, we won’t be in any shape to fight the bandits when we catch up with them,” Mylo said.

“If I’m pushing you, tell me. Until then, walk.” Junia hesitated before saying, “Thank you for bringing my weapons back to me.”

Pierre grinned and bowed dramatically. “Of course, milady.”

“How could you tell they were thieves?” Mylo asked in a hushed tone.

“If the Bandit King had stolen everything from me, and I stumbled upon a trio like us...” Pierre shrugged, “I would think the supplies would go further if there were only two of us.”

“What did you do to them?”

Pierre’s eyes hardened, and he didn’t answer.

Mylo swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“The supplies would last even longer for one person.”

The day dragged on with hunting opportunities few and far between. A trap would work beautifully, but they didn’t have time to wait around for something to wander in. Mylo collected berries as they walked. Once he had eaten his fill, he collected enough to satisfy the other’s hunger as well.

As the sun dipped towards the horizon, he kept an eye out for a good place to set up camp for the night. As they pushed their way through the underbrush, they found a small cluster of trees where the brambles hadn’t overgrown. A trail of a herbivore more than likely.

“I don’t think we’re going to find a better place to set up for the night.” Mylo said.

“We still have light.” Junia pushed through the brambles on the other side.

Pierre scoffed, “I’m sorry, I think I misheard you. I could have sworn you just said we are going to keep going.”

“We keep going,” Junia said through gritted teeth.

Pierre crossed his arms. “You know better than I what kind of creatures are waiting for us if we travel at night.”

Junia spun around to face them. “Do you know what else is out there? My grandfather, your precious chieftain’s daughter, and your powerstone. All taken by a mad Bandit King. I will take the chance of encountering something dangerous if it means that I can catch up with the bandits before they make it to their fortress.”

“A fortress can be breached, but not if we die before we get there,” Pierre said.

“Let’s go for another hour and then we can set up camp.” Mylo offered the compromise. “But I don’t feel comfortable traveling at night. If only because of the Twin Moons.”

They traveled in comparable silence. Even Pierre seemed to keep his footfalls muffled. The blue twilight fell and crowded in on them from every side.

Something large and slow moved into the open. Branch-like antlers jutted out from its long droopy head. Its four powerful hoofed legs were as thick as saplings. It stood twice as tall as Mylo. He hadn’t seen something like this up close before, only at a distance.

He wasn’t a fan.

Junia gestured for them to get down slowly. “Quietly, back away. These things are highly territorial.”

Every sense was painfully heightened. His body shook with adrenaline, blood pounded in his ears.

Pierre let out a strangled cry as he threw himself into the brush.

The animal snorted, pawing at the ground and charged at them. The ground rumbled with the force of its steps.

Mylo stood frozen. Darkness washed over his vision. The world swam and tilted.

Junia cursed. "Black-hearted fool!"

"Preserver, give me strength, give me speed." She dropped her shield and took several steps back. "If I have served you well, let my aim be true!"

She charged at the animal and threw her spear.

The spear struck the animal’s chest, and it crumpled.

Junia dived out of the way as the animal’s momentum sent it crashing into the trees behind her. A sickening crack echoed through the forest.

No one spoke for a few minutes. Not even the birds or insects dared to break the silence that followed.

Junia pushed off the ground and ran over to where the animal lay. She pulled her spear from its chest. It did not move, it made no cry of pain. It was dead.

Mylo sat up, brushing the dirt from his hair. What had gotten into him? Had he fainted? Usually, he had a better sense of self-preservation. Fear had immobilized him.

Junia grabbed Pierre by his collar. “When I tell you to be quiet, you will be silent. When I tell you to back up slowly, you will move as if you were a sloth. Do you understand?”

Pierre flinched away from her grip. “Yes, please don’t hurt me.”

“How did you possibly just kill a monster that eats from the tops of the trees with a spear?” Mylo did not see a strength stone around her neck nor a speed stone.

"The Preserver has smiled upon us on this day. My years of service to him have not gone unnoticed." Junia cleared her throat. “But there is no honor in senseless death. If the Masked Bandit had done as I said, it would still be alive. It is not a predator and did not need to die.”

The Preserver. The being that spoke to him, and saved his life repeatedly with his wisdom. She called him by the same name. Could she really be a paladin of the Preserver?

Pierre cautiously approached the animal. “It doesn’t have to be a waste. Does it taste good?”

Pierre produced a leather cloth filled with various knives. Stolen from the travelers, no doubt.

Junia tilted her head to the side, surprised that the bandit would come up with such an idea. “Yes. It would be disrespectful of the Preserver's work to let this animal’s death be senseless.”

Mylo built a fire with the help of Junia, while Pierre butchered the animal.

“I want to learn,” Mylo said between bites. “How to use the spear like you did.”

Junia bit her cheek. “I can teach you to defend yourself against other exiles, but your body is in no condition to fight a monster.”

“I will treasure anything you are willing to teach me as a gift.” Mylo bowed his head, speaking the words of a student pledging himself to a new master.

Junia regarded him with a thoughtful expression and returned the bow. “The first lesson is to make a practice staff.”