Although the path to Rublyn is misty, the road is plain and straightforward. The only thing that unnerved us is that the farther we go, to lesser the travelers on the path are. For Aylwin, it’s better. Fewer humans mean fewer pests he can deal with. But I reminded him why he’s returning to civilization again.
“More humans means you can adapt better.”
“More humans more chances of getting myself killed.”
“You’ll get killed if you go around prancing as a face stealer.” Carim butted in. Both of them stared daggers at one another, enough to melt a steel beam. And the reminds me,
“Aylwin, no stealing of faces. Unless necessary.”
It’s a good thing that Aylwin listens to me. I’m like his father and he’s my son. Carim acts like a brother at most times but there are cases where he is as childish as Aylwin. Such as that time where they got into an argument whether Smithee’s beef jerky is delicious or not. Aylwin insisted that leather tasted better than. Smithee is Carim’s friend so it is natural to protect his friend’s cooking skills. Their argument reached new heights and they were about to slice each other’s necks. It’s lucky that I just finished bathing and I stopped them before their blade and claws could reach another.
“Aylwin, you know you can say your opinion without hurting anyone.”
“Like how?”
“The jerky is under spiced and it could use a little bit of work. I’ll remind the cook next time. Or we’ve been eating beef jerky for a week now and I suggest we find another palate?”
“We’re on the road for a week now?” Carim asked. A week is a rough estimate. It’s tough to see whether it’s morning or night while we’re in this glowing mist. “A week is far too long. The road to Rublyn will only take us three days, at most five.”
“That is true,” Aylwin added. Finally, they are agreeing about something. “Is it just me or have we seen that tree before?”
The tree in the distance is as white as ivory but twisted and deformed in parts. A wide gaping hole sits in the middle as if it’s an eye peering at looking into our soul. A crow is perched on one of its three branches. It’s the blackest thing I’ve seen but its eyes were the most crimson.
“I’ll check it out.”
“Be careful,” both of them said.
I walked closer to the tree with the crow’s eyes following my every step. Once I reached the tree, I found there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s just a tree that looks like a tree, except for how white it is. I pulled out my dagger and carved a sign in the bark then returned to my companions.
“I didn’t know you took a fancy for runic manipulations?” Carim said.
“That’s not a rune,” I looked back at my sign and I’m sure that isn’t a rune. “It’s a gang sign taught to me by a friend. I carved it so we can know if it’s the same tree.”
With that done, we continued our way for another day. During that time, I’ve learned more about the sword and the different styles I can parry. When I finished the short-sword, I must practice the longsword. Then broad and back to the start. Do this multiple times a year and I can be half as good as Carim. Or a quarter as good as Haafgar.
On the next morning, a familiar sight caught us by surprise. It’s the same tree with the same gang sign on it. But there’s something different about it, there are two crows in the branches and there’s a note between the gang sign.
“Defilers!” The note said. The crow looked at us and said the same thing in a raspy woman’s voice.
Aylwin jumped from the wagon, grabbed both crows and proceeded to bite both of their heads. Blood splattered everywhere but they turned to dust as soon as they got in contact with our bodies.
“Witch!” Carim shouted.
“Not a Witch,” Aylwin said. “A vampire. An Elf Vampire.”
“Sanaedhel,” Carim cursed.
“What’s a Sunday hell?” I asked.
“Sanaedhel, an accursed creature born when a male vampire impregnates an elf.” Carim readied his sword and so did I.
“Other than sucking blood, Sanaedhel can conjure powerful illusions because of their Elven blood. Creepy crowd if you meet them. They won’t stop talking about blood.”
“Focus!” Carim shouted. With our backs in the tree, we aimed our weapons in the mist that mysteriously turned into a red fog. A laugh screeched everywhere as if it were mocking our plight. There are movements in the distance, a fast-moving body made of the blackest robes. It got closer and closer until we heard its call. Caws. They are cawing. It’s no man in black robes, it’s a murder of crows that are heading straight for us. Carim swung his sword and caught a few of the crows. He couldn’t burn them because the crows were fanning away the flames. Aylwin managed to grab a bunch and proceeded to rip their avian bodies to shreds. I tried to do my part but there are too many crows and they seem to be growing in size.
“What are we going to do?” I asked. Slicing them won’t work. Maybe an area of effect type of skill? I asked Carim if he has one. All he has are enchanted slashes and strikes. Aylwin doesn’t have any either.
This is probably it. The end of the line of my life once more. It’s all because of this stupid tree. Wait. The tree! This is probably it. “Everyone, destroy the tree.” Both of them were confused but soon realized what I’m trying to say. Carim plunged the sword deep into the heartwood and released all of his stuck up flames. With his mercenary body, Aylwin punched and shredded the tree bark with his muscles and claws. I sliced whatever I could until I found something inside the hole in the tree. It’s an orb embedded in the heartwood. With one decisive strike, I stabbed the center of the orb, sending a million shattered pieces into oblivion. The tree collapsed in of itself and disappeared into nothingness. The world around us cracked and shattered like glass, revealing the true world outside.
The outside is sunny contrary to the mist we’ve experienced for a week and in the distance is the town of Rublyn, a place shrouded with thicker mists and even thicker mystery. Aylwin has never been there as he skipped it on his way to Belfiore. Carim visited before but didn’t stay long. The town back then isn’t this gloomy. On the town entrance, we headed straight for