When night fell, a different guard approached them and told them the ferrymen were taking off for the evening. They had made it far in the line, being three away from heading over the river, but this would be it for the night. The entire cart groaned.


    The guys hopped off the back of the cart and began setting up a small camp, while Keila hopped down to tend to the oxen. Abad, having nothing to do, decided to head down to the river to clean himself up. He hadn''t been so disgusting in a very long time. Grabbing the small sack that Keila had given him to replace his ruined pack, he wandered down to the riverbank and quickly found a private spot, just past the bend, where the river was shallow and calm enough to clean himself up. Stripping off the clothes that Keila had given him, he walked down to the water and finally made an effort to peel off the bracers he had worn since he left the vault.


    His skin was red and blistered all around the metal bands. As he carefully tried to pry them off, the bronze stuck to his skin. After some gentle working, the metal began to peel away, but some of his skin peeled away with it, revealing oozing flesh beneath. He hissed at the sudden pain as they finally wrenched free. Giving himself a minute to recover, he set the bracers to the side and took careful note of his wounds. While red and weeping, they weren''t overly inflamed, and there were no signs of infection. He felt a wave of relief.


    After several minutes of washing his wounds, he picked his bracers back up. They were blackened and charred on the outside. Turning them over, he noted that the sigils and runes that were engraved on the inside had faded completely. Looking down at his arms, he realized that the runes had been burned onto his skin. However, besides being interesting, he didn''t think much of it. A wave of disappointment hit him. The bracers had become junk. They weren''t particularly strong or worth much, but they were one of the only things left from his old life.


    Sighing, he threw them down into the mud.


    Giving himself a few minutes to indulge in self-pity, he finally recovered and decided he''d try something out. He stretched out his arms and pulled out a small amount mana from his spirit, careful not to draw very much from his tattered inner self. Forcing the mana into the runes decorating his skin, he was surprised to see the runes shimmer for a brief moment before going dim again. He had heard of tattoos being used to enchant people''s bodies, but he had never heard of branding being a viable option. He''d have to explore this new discovery later.


    Sitting on a large rock in the mud, he listened to the crickets chirping and water trickling around him. It was peaceful here. Serene. Part of him wanted to enjoy this simple life of travel and relaxation, but he knew that, as always, it wouldn''t last. It never did. He would inevitably be drawn back toward whatever chaos was brewing in this age. Whatever thread in the tapestry of fate that allowed him to come back wasn''t done with him yet. He could feel it. It might be a day, or a week, or a year, but it would come for him, whatever it was.


    As the night got darker, he stepped into the cool water, letting it sink into his aching bones. He soaked for a while, desperate to clean the grime of the past weeks off of his skin and wash the stink from his hair. He smelled like ox shit, dirt, and burnt troll. The water only magnified his stench, so he knew he''d need more than water to cleanse himself. He returned to the riverbank and retrieved the small bar of soap that Keila had given him the day before when they had found a stream. He returned to the water and began scrubbing. Failing to reach his back, he wished yet again that Angra were there. She always loved baths, and she could reach the center of his back. He also missed her presence. He hadn''t ever realized how much she comforted him, always being there.


    However, despite her absence, he felt relaxed for the first time since he had left his vault.


    "Thought I''d find you out down here." A woman''s voice. It was Keila.


    "I''ll admit it. I''ve never been one to enjoy being filthy." He didn''t stop scrubbing.


    "I figured as much when we hit that stream yesterday. You looked mad trying to scrub the road off of yourself."


    He laughed. "I''m sure I did."


    She tiptoed up to where he had placed his sack, then set her own down beside it. A moment later, she began to strip. He looked away, but she giggled. "Don''t worry. You don''t get by on the road by being modest. Plus, I don''t mind if you look." A moment later, he heard small splashes as she stepped into the water. It wasn''t long until she swam up to him. "This is nice." Her words came out as soft breaths.


    "It''s not a proper bath, but it''ll do." He looked toward the lights in the distance that likely marked the town they''d reach in the morning. Realizing he was souring the mood, he added, "Yeah, it''s nice."


    She swam close to him. Looking toward her, he saw that her eyes were locked on his. "It would be nicer if you held me. I can''t touch here, and its cold."


    Keila''s floated up and draped herself against him. Her breasts, firm and full, pressed against his chest. He hesitated for a moment but decided to let his instincts guide him. He wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her close. When he did, she shifted, and her lips pressed against his. He felt himself tense for a brief instant, but her hands weaving into his hair made him melt. Their tongues intertwined.


    They tested one another as they kissed, probing and teasing and finding a rhythm. She tasted good, like honey and alcohol, and her lips were soft. For several minutes, he forgot about the rest of the world and focused solely upon exploring her. Her heavy breaths suggested she enjoyed his exploration. Her fingers worked their way through his long damp hair, then slowly crawled toward his face as they kissed. Before they rose too high, he grabbed them and brought them back down to his neck. He didn''t want the moment to end because of his horns, hidden beneath his spell. She pulled away and looked confused for a moment, but he ran his fingers along her cheek, snaked them to the nape of her neck, and pulled her face towards his. Their lips came back together, and she kissed him deeply, moaning as she did.


    He needed this.


    She pulled away again. "Want to make a good memory with me?"


    He gazed into her eyes. He knew this was nothing. They were two travelers seeking comfort in one another. It was nothing but a diversion. He kissed down her neck. She arched backward as his kisses traced across her throat, tracing the curve of her neck down to her collarbones. Wrapping his hands around her firm buttocks, he lifted her upward, helping her wrap her legs around his waist. Her body trembled.


    She leaned into him, lowered her head onto his shoulder as he returned to her neck, and whispered in his ear. "I think you''re beautiful. Sad, and beautiful."


    With that, she melted into his grasp. He lowered her, letting her wrap her arms tightly around his shoulders. Their chests met once again, bare skin sliding across bare skin. He let go completely, allowing himself to sink into the girl''s embrace as she gave herself to him. Even if it was nothing, he''d allow himself to fall into this brief moment of relief in his otherwise bitter existence.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ***


    That morning, the four travelers packed up early and quietly got in line for the ferry. Luckily, they were up before the other carts and wagons and were able to board the ferry first. They prepared breakfast on the way, and other than a few good mornings, none of them talked as they crossed the river. The brothers were both hungover, and Keila gave no indication that anything had happened between her and Abad the night before. He decided to honor that choice. He felt much the same way.


    Before long, they were unloaded and rolling down a paved road toward Farnfoss. A few crossroads marked paths to other towns and villages in the area. Once they had passed a few, Rhys noted they would be there soon, and sure enough, the cart rolled over a large hill, and there in the distance was a small walled town.


    "Can''t wait to take a few days off." Rhys grumbled.


    "Can''t wait to hit the brothel more like." She smirked at her brother.


    "That too, yeah." He smirked back. "Not all of us get what we need on the road."


    She shot a look more deadly than any spell of Abad''s.


    Farnfoss wasn''t much to look at. It had a simple wooden palisade that seemed to be more for keeping livestock contained and marking borders than for actual defense. There were some fields and farms surrounding the settlement as well as some large buildings along the riverbank. Most of those seemed to be warehouses and an occasional mill, but one looked more official. It bore banners of green, black, and silver. Abad could make out a few guards going to and fro around the building.


    Before long, the cart rolled its way up the gate. There were a few carts and wagons ahead of them. The guards lazily checked each wagon before it entered, and before long their cart was next in line.


    "Papers." The guard asked with yawn, his eyes surrounded by dark circles under his ill-fitting helmet. Another guard approached Abad on the other side of the cart, looking even more tired.


    Keila fished out the papers she had given to Gregor the day before. Handing them over, the guards did a quick once over of the cart, looking as if they had done so a thousand times.


    "Who''s your patron?"


    Keila pulled her shirt away to reveal the brand on her neck. "Bolton."


    The guard''s eyes narrowed on her, then settled on Abad for a moment before they walked backward and waved them through. A moment later, they were through the low wooden walls of Farnfoss and onto a busy road.


    Inside the wooden fence, the town wasn''t much more to look at from the inside as it was from the outside. Hundreds of buildings were placed here and there with no discernible pattern or order, animals and people filled the narrow streets, and the smells of bread, urine, and horse mixed together to create a truly unique bouquet of pastoral fragrances. The smell reminded him of his travels around the countryside in the past. It was oddly comforting to be somewhere that reminded him of his own time. He had never particularly enjoyed the country, but he didn''t hate it either. It was an acquired taste.


    "What now?" He asked aloud as they rolled on.


    "We''re headed for an inn called The Green Lady. We''ve got business there first, then we have to resupply. After that, we''ll be staying here two weeks. At some point, our boss will be in town. Odds are, he''ll want to meet you, then you''ll be off to new frontiers... unless you plan to join the patronage?" Her eyes lingered on his. "We''d have to ask Bolton, but he might be okay with it. Might be better to have a connected patron than to go it alone. Bad things happen to loners around here. You said you''ve left your old group, so this might be the opportunity you''ve been waiting for." Her tone suggested she''d like this outcome.


    He knew he wouldn''t accept being anyone else''s vassal. "I think I''ll have a go on my own, but thanks." Her eyes grew dark for a moment, but a smile crept back over her face just as fast.


    "Sure you don''t want to try? Could be worth your while" She was really trying to sell him on the idea.


    He didn''t even know what went into it. "What would becoming claimed entail?"


    "Well, you''d sign a contract agreeing to the conditions of claimancy. You''d do a ceremony, he''d brand you with his brand, and you''d be claimed. You''d be able to gain a class that he''d choose for you, but you already have one, so that doesn''t matter. More importantly for you, you''d have access to resources, connections, and allies. And, really, you''re pretty lucky. The odds of meeting someone who will sponsor you like Bolton does is pretty rare. Most patrons are choosy, but he''s strong enough that he doesn''t have to be. He just prefers the strong, and really talented newbies like myself." She shot a look over at her brothers. "And those idiots, even if they don''t look it."


    "Hey! Look who''s talking." Serus was finally coming around. He had drank far more than the others last night and was proportionately more hungover.


    "I appreciate the offer, but I am not one to serve. It''s not in my blood." He bared is teeth in a smile.


    "Ah, okay. I understand." Her face dropped, if only barely. "If I had been able to earn a class, I probably would feel the same way."


    "Is it really so difficult to gain a class now?" It hadn''t been too difficult in the past, for mortals or for his kind.


    She looked away from him and back at the road she was navigating. Her brain was working behind her eyes. After a moment, she spoke. "Not everyone is so fortunate these days. There aren''t that many class quests offered by the system, and too many people are doing them. Plus, lots of people unlock their class, then can''t keep training it. Losing your levels is worse than not getting them at all. People get desperate." Her jaw clenched. "I don''t think Bolton will take a mercenary. Looks like we''ll be splitting up soon." She looked away from the street and back toward him for a moment. "Hopefully, not too soon though. I''d like you to stay long enough to have an audience with him at least. Plus, I''d like the company."


    They drove for a time, weaving off the main road and onto a few side streets. Farnfoss wasn''t particularly well laid out. Abad couldn''t make much sense of it. After a few more minutes of silence, she perked up again and spoke. "So, you''re a mage? What''s that like."


    "Overrated." He laughed a single, cold laugh.


    "Are you strong?" She gave him a funny look.


    "Not particularly. At least, not anymore."


    "I see." She left it there.


    They turned down an intersection and rolled up a large hill and eventually ended up in front of an old building made of thick wooden boards and stone. It was in decent shape compared to many of the other huts in the town, which didn''t say much. The exterior showed signs of repairs, though they seemed half abandoned at this point. The sign, The Green Lady, displayed a woman clad in ivy leaves reclining upon a tree branch, a crown of thorns adorning her forehead.


    "This is it!" Keila''s voice was cheerful, even if her eyes weren''t. "I need to meet with some suppliers, and the guys have to get down to the warehouses on the far side of town to unload and stock up." She hopped off the cart and turned to him. "So this is where we''ll say goodbye, at least for now."


    Abad turned to exit his side of the cart, but, looking down into the thick mud below, decided to get out the other way. The brothers were waiting for him to climb out so they could jump into the cart''s bench, so he grabbed the sack Keila gave him and hopped down to the woman.


    Stretching his weary limbs, he decided to capitalize on the moment. "Thank you for your charity. All of you. I appreciate you coming out to pick me up, even when I didn''t have anything to offer. And while I can''t say you two were much to look at," he nodded at the brothers, who smirked, "I certainly appreciate you letting me sit up front most of the time." Keila smiled widely at that remark, pushing his chest playfully.


    Rhys snickered. "Did a bit more than sitting, I think." Serus elbowed him, causing him to yelp, and Keila blushed.


    She gathered herself a moment, and when the cart started to roll away, she said, "Come up to my room tonight. Room 302. We''ll grab some dinner, ''kay?" Her eyes were an invitation he knew he would take.


    "I will."


    "Oh, and Abad." She took out a small bag and threw it to him. "You helped us with the cart on the way. Here''s some pay. It''s not much, but it should get you a bath and a couple meals. Gotta be presentable now that we''re in town, and I know how bad you want a real bath."


    A bath. That''s what he needed. More than life itself.


    With that, she broke off, disappearing into the inn. Looking around, he didn''t see anything of interest in the vicinity, so he made his way down the street, hugging the shoulder as he did to avoid the numerous potholes and other unspeakables littering the dirty cobblestone road.