CLEO – Ankratur

  After stowing the tin of lozenges in her pack, less one that she pocketed, Cleo and Rosalia said their goodbyes to the apothecary and headed further down the street. It wasn’t long before Cleo realized they were moving in the direction of the main gate they’d entered Ankratur by.

  She took out the lozenge and unwrapped it, squinting at the squarish dark-brown blob that looked like mashed-up dates. Shrugging, she shoved the lozenge into her mouth and chewed, grimacing and wrinkling her nose at the old sweaty sock taste that no amount of honey could disguise.

  “How does it taste?” Rosalia asked.

  “Terrible,” Cleo replied around a mouthful of sticky mush. There was a herbal and astringent taste to the lozenge, but it was easy to chew and it took no time at all to swallow.

  “Then you’ll need something to wash the taste out of your mouth.”

  Rosalia found a market stall catering to shift workers and bought them both a sweet bun filled with fruit and nuts, which was delicious. Cleo bought a few more buns for a copper drab to have as a snack on her journey.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask, if it isn’t too rude… are you and Kalak… you know… seeing each other?” Cleo asked as she chewed.

  Rosalia coughed and almost choked on her bun. “No! Definitely not! We make a good team, but he’s not my type. Too… coarse, I guess, is the best word to use. He’s nice enough in his own way, but too rough and not intellectual enough for me. Though rough and hard men have their uses, if you get my meaning.”

  Cleo blushed and looked away. Because of her lupus, she was totally inexperienced with boys and doubted that she’d find anyone who’d look past her illness. Not that she’d have time for a relationship anyway, with everything she had to learn in order to try to get back home. How long would that take? Years? The thought was daunting and made her head ache.

  Soon, they entered a huge square close to the gates filled with wagons and merchants and guards and laborers. Cleo took her hat off and wiped sweat from her brow with the sleeve, and then found a nearby shady spot near a warehouse. She took a few moments to take her canteen from her pack and drink a few mouthfuls of water, then offered it to Rosalia. She really wanted to wash the dust off her face already, but that was probably not wise. She’d end up with streaks smeared all over her face.

  “That’s good!” Rosalia said after a mouthful. “Make sure you refill the canteen before you leave.”

  “You can never be too prepared.”

  “Right! We’ll make an adventurer of you yet! But a word to the wise: avoid adventuring if you can. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I thought you said that’s where the loot was?”

  “It is, but it’s still too dangerous. If I can’t persuade you, wait until you’re at least D-plus tier and try to find someone experienced to party up with.”

  “I will. I’m not sure I’ll get a chance to go adventuring for a while, anyway. I still have so much to learn. And right now my focus is on making it to Lethanas and joining the Institute. From there… I don’t really know. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, or—” Cleo shook her head and broke off, not wanting to unload her frustration or break down in tears in front of Rosalia and everyone on the street. She bent her head and took a few deep breaths.

  Rosalia patted her on the shoulder. “The best advice I can give you is to focus on the next step. One thing at a time, and it won’t seem so daunting. Look ahead, by all means, since it’s good to have goals, but take things step by step. And at the Institute, building a solid foundation is extremely important. Especially when it comes to cards and using spells. Make sure you practice your mana cycling, Cleo! Do it every day.”

  “I will. I promise!”

  “There will be instructors at the Institute who can explain mana cycling better than I can, and offer tips. With your mana reservoir, and what I saw from you when you tried to cycle, I think you’ll improve quickly. You’ll be in expert hands if you can afford their fees.”

  “That’s my first goal,” Cleo said. “Make some money. If, as you said, I shouldn’t sell my… beads.” She didn’t want to say too much out loud, as anyone could be listening. Her armbands and torc were probably the obvious items to sell, and she didn’t think they were made of orichalcum, or Kalak’s eyes would have bulged out of his head. She’d see when she got to Lethanas.

  “All right,” Rosalia said. “Let’s not lose any more time. A few caravans leave Ankratur every day. And they all make stops at villages along the way to wherever they’re going, to resupply and such, and they bring the latest newssheets to keep people informed of what’s happening in the Empire and with the wars. It’s not the fastest way to get to Lethanas, but I think you’ll enjoy it, and it will give you time to get used to your cards and practice mana cycling.”

  “And I should always wear my Adventurers’ Guild badge, right?”

  “Definitely! In the caravan you’ll be, well, not among friends, but not enemies. There might be a few childish idiots that hassle you for their idea of fun, but you’ll be relatively safe.”

  “Are caravans regularly attacked by scavs or anything else?”

  “Not really, though they sometimes run into trouble. A good caravan will have enough guards to drive bandits or scavs off, and then there’ll always be a carded or two to help out. But there have been incursions by the Corrupted Scourge, using some portal technology that the Empire’s best mages can’t fathom, which is concerning. Although I don’t think you’ll need to worry about those. They happened a long way from here, and weren’t publicized in the newssheets.”

  The Empire didn’t want its citizens panicking, Cleo guessed. Like all governments, they tried to control the information everyone had. Until they decided to use fear to keep people in line. Maybe she was too cynical, but she’d kept up with the news and seen what went on in other countries.

  Of the five merchant trains, Rosalia pointed out one that looked to be better maintained and crewed.

  “You’re in luck! That’s Rivett Amyand’s caravan. I’d recognize his wagon anywhere.”

  There was an almost garishly painted roofed and walled wagon that was large enough to almost qualify as a house on wheels. The curved roof was painted dark-green, the walls cherry-red, and the windows and door had white trim. At the back, there was even a round metal chimney protruding from the roof. Rivett’s wagon was at the head of eight others, all harnessed to the muscular plains-elk, except for the middle wagon, which was drawn by four overly-large furred… sheep? They must be the Ovis, Cleo decided. The animals looked a lot cuter than regular sheep, apart from being as tall as she was, with their dun-colored short woolen coats, blunt noses, and triangular-shaped heads. There were also a few lines of oversized goats, though these only came up to her chest, laden with leather packs and waxed cloth bundles tied on with rope.

  All of Rivett’s wagons were well built, with sturdy iron-rimmed wheels, and the other eight with durable canvas coverings stretched over wooden bows, much like settlers’ wagons. The guards standing around were professional and armored with leather much like Kalak’s. Though they were wearing short swords, Cleo’s gaze was drawn to long spears stored on the sides of all the wagons. The guards’ eyes scanned the crowd through the dust stirred up by so many feet. They all had kerchiefs tied around their necks, but weren’t using them to filter out the dust yet. Cleo could see a few women among the guards, and two of the drivers were as well. I wonder if any of them are carded? I can’t see any Adventurers badges though.

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  “Let’s go,” Rosalia said. “They might be about to leave. You are in a hurry, aren’t you? We can wait another day or two if you’d like?”

  Cleo shook her head and adjusted her new hat. “No. I need to get moving. There’s so much to learn, and I have a great many things to do.” She regretted not being able to spend more time with Rosalia and Kalak. She needed information, and training, and a hundred other things. And she didn’t know what she didn’t know, which made it all the harder for her.

  “Care to elaborate?”

  Cleo sighed and shook her head and then gave Rosalia an apologetic smile. “I can’t, sorry. Maybe one day.”

  Rosalia frowned at her, but let the matter drop. The mage approached one of the guards at Rivett’s wagon train, a tall man with dark eyes and graying hair cut rough and short. “Excuse me, please, but is Rivett around? And when are you leaving?”

  The guard looked Rosalia up and down, his eyes lingering on her Adventurer badge for a moment. “We could use a carded on the trip. Can never have too many around.”

  Another guard came up behind him, this one shorter and younger. “Yes, you can!” the newcomer said. “They eat too much and don’t do any work, and complain like old women.” He had a cockiness that rubbed Cleo the wrong way.

  “You’re just jealous. This lady here’s seen action enough; you can tell by her gear and her bearing. Make a note of it, young Blister.”

  “I told you not to call me that, Aldar. My name’s Mikkel.”

  “Everyone’s gotta have a nickname.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “Tough.” The older guard, Aldar, turned to Rosalia. “Forgive him, he’s young. Anyways, you’ll be welcome.”

  “I’m not asking for me,” Rosalia said. “My friend here is on her way to Lethanas, and I know it’s Rivett’s primary route. Is this caravan heading there?”

  “Yeah,” Aldar replied. “But this skinny thing? She’ll have to pay full fare if Rivett says he has a spot.”

  Cleo drew herself up straighter and pulled her shoulders back. “I’ll pay for my food, and that’s all,” she said sternly, looking Aldar straight in the eye. “I’m carded, and a member of the Adventurers’ Guild.” She tapped her badge with two fingers.

  “I saw it, lass. I ain’t that old yet. But you look inexperienced to me, and at the first sign of trouble I think you’ll run.”

  Rosalia rolled her eyes and coughed into a fist. “You’re not the one who’ll decide. Where’s Rivett?”

  “Wait here,” Aldar said. He gestured for Mikkel to keep an eye on them and disappeared around a wagon, one hand scratching his armpit.

  Mikkel, who Cleo noticed had a few strands of scraggly hair sprouting under his nose like he was trying to grow a mustache but couldn’t, scowled at her in a sorry attempt to look intimidating. He was thin, too, and she wondered if he could even lift the heavy, iron-banded spears stored on the side of the wagons, which were obviously there to fight off larger creatures. Hopefully once they were on the way she could safely ignore him.

  Aldar returned with a middle-aged man with spiky black hair and a pale scar on his face from under his left eye down to the side of his jaw. He was dressed in stained travel leathers, with five featureless rings adorning his fingers, and a workmanlike sword in a wooden scabbard suspended from his belt. To Cleo, he looked less like a merchant and more like a warrior. He wasn’t wearing an Adventurers’ Guild badge, but perhaps he was carded?

  “Rosalia,” he said with a curt nod, then turned to study Cleo. “Looking for a place on my wagon train, are you?”

  Cleo nodded. “Yes.”

  Rosalia placed a hand on Cleo’s shoulder. “She—”

  “Can talk for herself, I presume?” interrupted Rivett.

  Mikkel sniggered, and Cleo bristled with indignation. “I can. I need a spot on your caravan, assuming you’re going to Lethanas.”

  “We are, and leaving soon. As a matter of fact, you’re holding us up.”

  “All I need is food and a place to sleep. I’ll keep out of your way, and is there anything I can do to help out?”

  “I don’t know, girl, is there anything you can do?”

  Prickling again, this time at being called girl, Cleo affected a confident air and sniffed. “I’m carded, and I survived in the Blighted Lands with Rosalia and her partner Kalak. We fought through packs of undead to survive, and five of the Silent Legion.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “It’s true,” Rosalia said. “All of it. We brought back their daggers and sold them.”

  Mikkel was now staring wide-eyed at Cleo as if she’d grown a second head, while Alder remained expressionless. Rivett gave Rosalia a disbelieving look and then shook his head.

  “How much coin do you have?” Rivett asked.

  “How much is it for the trip?”

  “This ain’t an outing, girl, it’s a merchant train and we don’t have to take passengers. What do you think is a reasonable price?”

  He was trying to gouge her. Rosalia hadn’t covered this, and from the way the merchant had interrupted the mage before Cleo knew he’d do so again, and she couldn’t look uncertain.

  “I’ll cover food and that’s all. If we run into trouble, I’ll help.”

  “And how exactly will you help? I need to know your capabilities.”

  Cleo glanced at Rosalia, who pursed her lips and tilted her head indecisively.

  “She’s an Aura Mage,” Rosalia said.

  “A shitty Aura Mage!” scoffed Mikkel, which earned him a slap in the head from Alder.

  “Ow! What’s that for?”

  “At least she’s carded, Blister,” Alder said. “And that means she’ll be useful and you’ll be glad she’s with us if there’s trouble.”

  “Doubt it. She don’t look like much.”

  Cleo clenched her jaw and wondered if she was petty enough to not shield Mikkel if it came down to it. “Neither do you. I’m a good Aura Mage. Rosalia can attest to that.”

  All three men looked at Rosalia, and the mage nodded. “Saved both Kalak and me, and we’re in her debt. Now, Rivett, time’s wasting, and I’m sure you want to head out.”

  “All right, then,” the merchant grumbled and rubbed the stubble on his chin. “An Aura Mage is better than nothing, I guess. But I should let you know that we’re making a brief detour to the Gravelands, if you don’t mind that?”

  Rosalia cleared her throat and stepped closer to Cleo. “Why the detour, Rivett? From what I recall, you’re not one to take risks.”

  “Just a supply run for the researchers there, and we’re escorting another one of them on this leg just so they don’t get into trouble on the road. There’s rumors of scavs and bandits, and worse along what was once a safe stretch. I ain’t one to look for trouble, but the pay was too good to pass up.”

  “So that means you won’t need to charge Cleo here for food either? After all, she’s carded as well.”

  Rivett wrinkled his nose and sniffed. “I’ll charge only for food. And it’s nothing special, mind you. She, you, can eat from the communal pot like everyone else. Except for the researcher and his team, they’re… how should I say… a bit snobby. But we’ll be rid of them soon enough. So, three talents, meals included. Cleo, was it? You sleep under a wagon like everyone else. If we’re attacked, you use your auras and stay out of the fighting.”

  It seemed that he knew a little about Aura Mages, and didn’t think much of their offensive capabilities, if they had any. Cleo could see how an Aura Mage would focus on defense and support, but it would leave them vulnerable if they were on their own. She vowed to break the mold.

  Cleo stuck her hand out and they sealed the deal. She handed over the three silvers, and then asked where she should go.

  “Second last wagon. You can sit up front with the driver when we’re on the move. Any other time just keep out of the way, if you can. I hope you have a kerchief or a scarf. Gets dusty at the back.”

  “Er, no, I…”

  Mikkel snorted as Rivett turned and hurried back to his wagon. Alder shook his head at the younger guard and dragged him away, no doubt to take care of final preparations.

  Rosalia fished a pale-yellow kerchief from a pocket and handed it to Cleo. “A parting gift,” she said with a smile.

  Cleo found herself smiling as well. She took the kerchief and tied it around her neck, feeling a little like a cowgirl, or a bandit. “Thank you! You’ve both done so much for me, Rosalia. I… I know you’re the one who summoned me, but I don’t blame you for that. You did what you felt you had to do, and if you hadn’t, then you wouldn’t have made it back. I’m just sorry you didn’t get a proper hero, like you expected.”

  “We may not have summoned a hero, Cleo, or maybe you sell yourself short. We three made it back because of you, and don’t you think that’s a little heroic? When we first met, you said that you technically were a hero. And I think if you reflect on your actions and the results, then you’ll find you’re a lot less technically a hero and a lot more actually one!”

  Cleo only shrugged, unsure how to cope with the unexpected praise. “Thank you, Rosalia. Thank you for everything. I feel steadier now, more prepared, and it’s because of how you’ve treated me, and what you’ve done for me. I’ll never forget it, I promise.”

  Rosalia gave Cleo a hug, which the mage broke off earlier than Cleo would have liked.

  “Sorry,” Rosalia said. “I’m not good with touching sometimes. Anyway, you’d better get settled or they’ll leave without you. Goodbye, Cleo. And make sure you practice mana cycling!”

  “I will! Farewell, Rosalia.”

  Cleo watched Rosalia walk away, and was surprised to find tears in her eyes. You’re not getting tougher if a simple goodbye brings you to tears! But there would be time enough to mold herself into a stronger, harder version.

  A real hero Cleo.

  A Legend.