The midday sun was unrelenting. He plopped down on the stump, and then pulled off a boot to rub his aching blister covered feet. It was bad, awful, black luck is what it was. That beastie chomping in the help like that, Father couldn't afford anymore, since they were stretched lean as it was. It hurt to pay in food instead of coin. 

He arched his back and stretched. Self pity wasn't going to fill his or anyone else's belly's, two more leagues to go. Perhaps could find a job here and buy a horse? 

A woman screamed; echoed far off ahead shattered the quiet of the forest; a second one came-it was closer now-rang in his ears. Then the pounding of hoofs neared. He stood up, over there?

Half a breath later, a twig snapped. A tall young elfin woman stepped out of the forest on the side of the path, breathing hard. Her eyes wide and face far too pale for her kind. Her leather armor pierced throughout and apt to fall apart any moment. She held her left side with a hand; blood trickled over her thin fingers.

Her streamlined hair lashed around her face, like a pale blue floating spirit; she looked at him; her long ears twitched as she scanned the area.

The seconds that passed dragged on. She tried to run past him, almost in a blur. He caught her wrist, and she stumbled and fell. Reaching out he caught her. She squirmed and kicked just missing his stomach.

"Let me pass!" Her breath quickened while she pulled back and twisted her arm in his grip. She gave him a look that would put the undergods to shame.

“You're injured! Come with me. I-” “Be quiet, human; they'll hear you,” she said, her tone low and deep. 

There was shouting of men on horseback in the woods on both sides. She thrashed under his hold and pushed him off. Not as weakened as she looked.

“They'll kill me if they catch me. Let me pass now.” 

He stepped away. She ran leaping away, and streaked down the path. Admiring her slender shape for a moment as she melted away into the forest like a wisp of smoke. Who or what would want to harm such a creature? The Elven were rare these days. 

Behind, two soldiers thrashed through the underbrush on horseback at the edge of the path. Had they heard that last shout of the woman? 

A guard pointed at him. “Has a vulgar Elven woman ran by here?”

He took a moment to scan the guards features. “And whom do think you are ordering?” 

He adjusted his emblem on his shoulder with slow and exaggerated movements. 

“You will address me with respect or not at all.” How dare they treat me like a commoner! His eyelid twitched. 

The guard's lids become slits. “You honestly think that anyone will care if a third rank goes missing?”

“My father-”

He leaned forward. “You would do well to remember, young sir, that there are many violent bandits about, who care little about rank.”

A lump stuck in his throat, but he ignored it and stood up straighter.

“I saw no one.”

No one more vulgar than you, that is. He kept his hand on top of his scabbard. The woman appeared more frightened out of her wits, than a trouble maker. 

“If I find out that you have lied, even Olenus won't protect you.” The man's eye lines tightened.

Pulling back the horse, he spat on the ground. His face shadowed. A wave of negative energy bubbled from his aura. He stepped back. It was too hard to tell as the aura was suppressed from sight a second later. 

The other men raced off following behind the lead guard. 

He sprinted toward the town to reach it before sunset. Grandmother's tales of the creatures that came out at night brought images of piles of gleaming bones to mind. He slowed down. The woman, I should go back and try to find her. A pack of wolfren howled. Still, she didn't seem too keen on his help. He shrugged. She'll be fine. 

####

Hours later on the road, he found a ride from a traveling merchant. 

Two gentle beasts pulled it forward. Graluvs, not many of them left nowadays.

They had tall stick like legs and round bodies on top; the fur that covered the torso was a soft fluffy white on the one on the left. The young had fur of calico with spotted blotches stood seven feet tall and weaved in and out of the adult's legs as they played. When it rolled over another large rock, the wagon jolted and stood on two wheels. 

He gripped the sides and hung on. The wagon whopped back down a second later. The old man grabbed his straw hat before it flew away in the updraft.

“Must you have that three-legged walking stick going over every rock you see? That must be the twentieth time today.”

His back itched; he tried reaching the itchy spot but was vexed by the hard armor. Should have gotten something more mandible.

The grizzled man leaned over the seat. “Don't get snippy at me young man, considering that you are getting a free ride.”

“Sorry.”

“As I said before, we will be at the town sometime tomorrow, so get some rest.”

The old man reached over to the Graluv, and patted it as it turned along the path.

####

The beasts that pulled the cart became spooked from a pack of running wild wholly Acrnohairs. The trip had taken longer than planned; he did not arrive to the town until midday. 

“By the way, take care the bandits around here like to ambush travelers following along the road to the city.” He pointed to several carved runes. 

“Thank you for your concern; I have a protective ward carved into my cart. It's potent, and bandits have never bothered me. Catch you around, later on. I need to head off soon to the market city of Luna-jer.”

He waved. 

“Fair travels be with you and may the sun shine bright!” He waved at him, as he walked further up to the town gate. 

In the town, he wiped the sweat dripping from his brow due to the heat. Stopping for a moment under the refreshing shade of a tree near the entrance. His stomach growled for the second time that day. 

His mouth was dry. Now, where was the inn? That's assuming there is one. A woman exited her house nearby; she tripped over a rock near him and stumbled. Stinking, rank water splashed him soaking him to the skin. 

The armor he held clattered to the ground. Picking it up he brushed soaking wet hair away from his cheek with a free hand. 

“Dang it, woman; watch what you are doing!”

“Ooh, apologies. I didn't realize you was there.” The woman cringed. 

He bit his tongue. Yelling at her wouldn't fix anything. 

“It is all right.”

He picked the armor up and continued toward the inn. Shouldn't have snapped at her, it was partly my fault; day dreaming again. 

Inside a small inn, he plopped down on the nearest stool. 

“So, what's your name?” An innkeeper washed the counter with a rag and looked up as he entered.

He averted his gaze from the mass of facial scars and pretend to fiddle with his cloak.

“Sir Parcival of the third district of Luna-jer.”

The man's lip twitched and he grinned. He looked to be a veteran of the last war. 

“ I'm Ulpar.” Ulpar's eyebrows arched up and his nose crinkled. 

“Young man, if you be served here, you bathe first! We talk more later.” A deep scar that split the edge of Uplar's lip, made the words whistle.

“Yes of course.” Parcival pulled at the wet padded under armor; the water weighed it and it kept sliding down. He leaned and placed the breastplate on the floor.

A moment later, he waved to a barmaid nearby. 

“Take him upstairs and draw him bath; he stinks!”

“Come on, the sooner you're clean, the better.” Her hips moved to and fro with that feminine gait only women possessed. 

Up to the second floor a room had a large white-footed bathtub. She dumped cold water into it, then tapped a flat gray heat stone that turned bright red. She picked it up wrapped it in a thick cloth. The cloth started to smoke; she tossed it into the tub. After several seconds, steam rose from the tub. 

She swirled in some soap agitating it into a froth of bubbles. As she walked out the door, she handed a long-handled scrub brush to him. 

“When you're clean, come down and eat sir. Chamber pot,” she said. 

She closed the door.

“Sure, thanks,” he grumbled.

After, he found his clothing folded on a bench in the hallway. She must have washed and cleaned it. That was nice. After he dressed, he went downstairs. 

Ulpar smiled at him. “Well, now what were we talking about before you 'perfumed' my inn? You mention being journeyman Paladin. How long before train' in the intermediate grounds?" 

“Not much longer.” More like another five years. "And, your name?" He tapped the counter absentmindedly.

Ulpar filled a mug with ale, and pushed it toward him. “Ulpar. Now, do you want something to eat?”

“No thank you, keep the ale coming. It's been a long day.”

He placed ten coins on the counter, which Ulpar quickly scooped up. 

####

After several hours, his vision blurry, he stumbled up the stairs. He fell asleep, spread out on the bed.

Early the next morning the sunlight filled the room with a golden hue. After dressing, he left a few coins near the wash basin.

On his way outside, a middle class man played a violin, coaxing a soothing tone from it. It made him think of the leaves that danced in the trees on a warm fall day, as they floated to the ground.

“You are very good; here's a pence for you.” 

He took the gold coins, dropping them into his untied pouch. He then bowed with his arms outstretched.

“Thank you, sir.”

The warm sun, ah it felt good. The scorching heat had finally eased off. He stretched his arms behind his head as he walked around the town. 

Children ran through the streets playing a relaxed version of Orb Ringer. One of the more energetic children overshot the target with his red orb; it missed its intended mark, the green orb that floated in midair between all of them. 

It zipped free and stopped near his nose. He held his hands out in front of him and controlled the orb sending it back into the boy's hands. 

The boy jumped up to grab it.

“Thanks, mister!”

“Be more careful next time.” 

“Yup.” And, he ran off with his friends in the small town park. 

Children. He groaned. Have to find a wife, have a son. It was never what he wanted. To start up an alchemist shop and learn new potions, or research the fabled Elixir of Life. 

Yet the idea wasn't so bad; it's just that there was plenty of time. Could be worse, could have been born as a royal. At least making the attempt would stop Fathers incessant lectures about carrying on the bloodline.

Wandering around the town, he found a modest pavilion in the middle of the town. On it were several lutes and violin players. 

Among them was, a woman dressed in a transparent outfit that hinted at her lithe form. Her wispy veils shimmered and flowed around her as she swayed and leaped to the alacrity music. She did an effortless somersault and landed light on her feet. 

The crowd standing before the pavilion clapped and whistled at her. She flashed a smile and leaped into the air. She then landed on a wooden bench, tilted it up with her feet and balanced on its end on the pads of her feet. 

Ask her? People would take me more seriously if he had a wife looking after the land, and to give advice at the Elder meetings. Sigh. Should have ran away with that cute freckled farmer girl.

Hopefully, the people here were not as barbaric as those who lived on Crescent Island a month's ride away. 

The crowd clapped louder and the most affluent spectators tossed gold coins into a large bowl in front of the pavilion. 

The sun lowered in the sky, casting shadows marking the end of the day. The entertainers bowed, then packed up their things and wandered off. 

Back to the inn, the homes had candles and lamps that gave a warm pale effulgent glow. After a quick supper of roasted vegetables, he climbed into the soft bed. An image broke his peaceful thoughts. Why were they after her?

Crickets chirped, filling the night air with their song. He snuffed out the candles and watched the smoke as it yielded to the window draft.