[The Twining] 22. The Settlement (Patreon)

After coming upon a small river, Isen had followed it upstream to a rockier ground that steadily sloped up into an imposing chain of mountains covered in a mix of evergreen firs and the same trees that dominated the forest.

The first sign of human activity he encountered was an unguarded mountain pass that cut through a steep valley, leveling it off for easier passage. It was narrow, an old footpath, large enough for horses to traverse single file. The path forked at a large bluff, both paths leading downward. Isen thought there might have once been a wooden sign with town markers, but the small wooden plank that had fallen to the rocks was scratched and muddied, whatever words once marking its surface worn and illegible.

Each path might be as good as any other. He could pick one at random. It’s what Ros would make him do, Isen was certain. But the vulpine beast seemed to have more faith in Isen’s inexplicable ability than Isen himself.

Isen didn’t feel anything when he regarded the two paths. Which was probably good—neither path was a bad choice. But he disliked choosing one at random just because maybe his special sense was subtly, imperceptibly guiding his steps.

So Isen decided to climb. It was so much easier to scramble up the mountain than scaling the wickedly sharp, slick rocks that had enveloped the Compass of Legacy’s spire. Soon, he stood over a hundred feet above the footpath.

The two paths disappeared from view, other parts of the mountains obscuring them, but he considered what lay off in the distance to the right and left.

Left, he saw more mountains, then an expanse of trees. Right, he saw the same—mountains and trees—but also, a column of smoke. He doubted it was a natural wildfire like the kind that sometimes blew through the plains.

The choice of direction was obvious. Isen followed the path rightward, a new spring in his steps as he imagined the source of the smoke. A burning building? A blacksmith?

The smoke wasn’t close—Isen traveled for another day over mountain and forest, the uneven and unfamiliar terrain slowing his passage. During that period, he finally met more monsters, though they were tier one beasts that fled when he approached, growling defensively. The number swelled the closer he got to the smoke, which had remained a constant throughout his journey.

He ignored all of them. Tier one monsters were a minimal threat, and they kept their distance, not attacking him—a smart decision. But their presence put much of what he’d always thought normal into question. In Dawnbreak, the presence of any monster was considered a rare and dangerous event. That’s why the Twining had been guarded so closely. But here, monsters just… were. Isen had no idea where they came from, but clearly they weren’t enough of an issue for people to eradicate them.

I wonder how normal farmers and travelers survive.

He almost couldn’t believe his eyes when he finally identified a dusty dirt road, one big enough for a carriages. It cut diagonally across his path, pointing vaguely in the direction he’d already been heading. Under the moonlight, he had only noticed it from a few feet away.

He followed it toward the smoke, which was still visible in the moon’s illumination, a dark smudge on the stars.

With a proper road, his speed significantly increased, though he liked to think that he’d gotten pretty good at running through the forest. What really helped was that he could show off his strength, each stride carrying him several feet ahead. In the forest, he’d just smack into a tree.

It was still dark when the settlement came into view. It reminded him of a nicer Goldbounty, with large earthen walls—probably cast by a mage—surrounded by sharp wooden spears facing out. A tall wooden gate was barred shut where the road disappeared into its walls, and a pair of soldiers stood out front. The smoke spooled from the town center, billowing high into the dark sky.

Isen almost approached the gate then, but the sixth sense held him back. It would be better to wait and watch.

The forest wasn’t nearly as thick so close to the settlement, but trees were still all over the place. Isen settled down in the crook of one, resting his head on its trunk while laying his arms on its curved roots. He cycled energy.

When channeling energy with his hands and his mouth, he could do so because he had at least two points of contact for the energy to flow between. If he expelled energy from his skin, it buzzed slightly. Useless for creating an energy ball, but something about the energy expulsion repelled bugs. Mosquitos weren’t strong enough to pierce his skin—and even if they could, he was confident his blood would be toxic to them—but he found the sensation of bugs crawling across him while he cycled terribly distracting. Lack of tiny insects was one thing he’d miss about the depths.

At some point, he must have nodded off. When he woke, the sun was early in its rise. It was morning. Isen stretched, limbering himself for what would doubtlessly be a noteworthy day—the day he returned to civilization.

Refreshed from sleep, he considered more seriously how he’d enter the town. He didn’t have a mirror, but he knew his appearance was rough.

I barely have clothes. I look like I’ve been out in the wilderness for who knows how long. I don’t even know what language is spoken here, or what currency is used.

Isen frowned. Didn’t these kinds of towns usually charge an entrance fee?

If it were the Isen of a year ago, he’d just sneak in, but that was in Goldbounty, where he blended in and knew his way around. Even if he cleared the fortification with his tempered body and a well-timed energy ball blast, he’d be surrounded by guards in a heartbeat.

He considered just approaching the gate and giving the guards a sob story—he was just a little boy stranded in the wilderness—but again, he was too self-aware to really believe that would work.

Isen didn’t look like a “little boy.” He was obviously still a young teen, and his voice hadn’t dropped, but his physique was exceptional and the scars that covered his body—barely covered by his rough garments—made him look like a ruffian. And he still didn’t know what to do about his one gold-ringed eye.

Finally, he worried what they’d do about his dagger and pack. Isen had been fairly ignorant about monster materials before entering the Twining, but he figured adults in a settlement where tier one monsters were a common sight would be better informed.

What if they attacked him and stole his belongings? What if they just tried to kill him?

Should I hide my pack, hide the dagger?

But if he left the dagger behind, he’d be weaponless. He was a cultivator, so in a sense his body was a weapon, but Isen had no idea how strong people were here.

He’d only been a cultivator for a year. He had always had a knack for fighting, but he had never been able to gauge the power level of the soldiers guarding Goldbounty. He hadn’t even known there were different tiers of power aside from mage and non-mage. For all Isen knew, Goldbounty’s soldiers were cultivators. After all, they had to be strong enough to defend the common people from monsters.

This settlement might have cultivator guards. It would make sense for them to at least be at the first tier. Even if Isen was the only tier two cultivator in the entire settlement, he didn’t like his chances against a horde of tier-ones, especially if some of them wielded ranged weapons.

He really, really wished he had more information.

Then just be patient, he thought, rebuking himself. Someone will enter or leave the settlement eventually. If they enter, observe what they do. If they leave… well, maybe pull them aside. Ask them some questions.

It was the best plan he could think of. He ran back up the road, putting some distance between himself and the town, then sat and cycled.

An hour later, a trio of armored riders left the settlement, their horses galloping past where Isen hid in the shadows of a tree. Isen held off on approaching, deciding to wait for a party on foot—ideally, a group of two, though he figured most would travel in a larger group for safety.

Around noon, a caravan rolled down the road. Isen had ample warning—the procession of a caravan was loud—so he positioned himself in a tree close to where the wagons would pass. His goal was to observe and listen while remaining unseen.

He held his breath as they rolled close, the procession guarded by a team of five. The guards wore leather armor reinforced in key areas by steel. Each bore at least one weapon on a belt, and an additional weapon or shield on their back. They looked relaxed and unworried, possibly because their destination was in sight.

The guards were quiet, but the merchants in the caravan weren’t. Several were moving about the carriages in a flurry, calling out to one another and making last minute preparations.

Isen’s stomach dropped. He didn’t understand the language. It was smooth and languid, pretty, almost melodic. He reasoned that they might be from a far off land, traveling to a city that spoke the common tongue… but somehow, he doubted it.

That was when he noticed a rather obvious, but important detail. He couldn’t see the ears of the guards, who wore helmets, but the merchants all had slightly pointed ears.

Isen’s breath caught and his hands tightened on the tree bough. He felt so constricted by his limited view of the world, his ignorance. What were these people? Humans mutated by partaking of the blood of living monsters?

The idea was ludicrous. These people seemed to be normal. Besides, what were the odds of a mutation manifesting in the same way for all of them?

These people were just… different.

Suddenly, his sense of danger flared. He twisted to the side, narrowly avoiding an arrow whose shaft quivered from the force of hitting the tree. Someone had obviously noticed his presence—fantastic.

Should he flee? His goal was to investigate without revealing himself. He didn’t even know where his adversary was.

Ultimately, he decided running was the best option. He’d probably been caught by a scout.

He jumped from the tree, then ran as fast as he could away from the road, dashing through the grove of trees that covered the rolling hills.

After a minute of sprinting, he stopped. He didn’t see anyone, so he returned to a seated pose and cycled. He’d go back to watching the road once the caravan was gone.

He only cycled for a minute before another arrow threatened to skewer him from the side.

[ Here's another potential cover... Isen looks too old but I think it looks vaguely cool. ]