96. An ordinary alcove
Despite feeling as if he were balancing on the edge of a knife, nothing untoward happened for the rest of the day. As the sun moved closer to the horizon, painting the sky in shades of crimson, Kalzin felt his worries ease slightly. That perhaps he was just being paranoid, after all, there was no indication of anything that could actually be threatening.
In these parts of the forest, the largest predators were the odd bears and they were easy enough to deal with. The logical conclusion of their safety was something he inevitably reached each time he ran through what he saw. Everything but that tree...and the smell of smoke.
Bandits couldn't possibly make it this deep into our territory; not without us being aware of them. And to see the tree at the same time just...feels wrong.
Shaking his head to rid himself of the unnecessary thoughts, he came to a stop, the carriage following his actions behind him. Looking around briefly, he walked back and addressed the nobleman through the open window.
"My Lord, it is time that we make rest for the night. There is a small clearing further up ahead that travellers often use when moving along this route."
"Ohhh," the nobleman brought his hands together excitedly. "The traditions of these wild areas are so fascinating...does this place have a name?"
Kalzin firmly made sure not to make eye-contact with Jeropher who was in the midst of suppressing his laughter, and replied in his attempt at a scholastic tone.
"Ah, yes, a wise question. This is an old route, before being paved it was the migration pattern of our ancient, more nomadic past. Even further, it was said that great beasts of old followed this trail further north to escape the frigid wastes near the equator. That said, the rest stop is one rich with the history of our culture for thousands of years. We call it..."
He paused for dramatic effect, and also to stall for his mind to race through possible ideas. When he spoke, it was in a solemn and venerating tone.
"Alcove of the Ancient Traveller."
A flash of inspiration hit him and he added after a few seconds.
"They say that on some nights, when travelling alone, people have met with a strange man resting there. Roasting a deer of a fire, they share in his food and all describe it to be delicious. And yet, when morning comes, he is gone, and the deer is all but bone, and the fire is naught but stone."
"A ghost.."
The nobleman whispered in a hushed tone, eyes darting around in nervous excitement.
"You think we could get to see such a thing?"
"Hahaha, well these are just stories my Lord. Myths and legends, such a thing couldn't possibly be real.....or could it? Well, it's best we make our way there before nightfall, it'd be helpful to have at least a little light to help set up camp."
Returning to the front, the cheerful chatter of the nobleman and his cold, quiet guard faded into the background. He wasn't wrong and it had barely been fifteen more minutes of walking until they reached the so-called Alcove.
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Here, the trees to the right of the road were cleared in an obviously artificial way, creating an empty semi-circle. It was fairly large, enough that several of the single carriage could fit. The large, oddly shaped and softly luminescent crystal that led it in the front, attached by a harness, didn't take up much space.
Or food, I suppose. The carriage-beasts eat enough for fifteen men in a day, but paying that for ten years wouldn't even cover half the cost of that thing. Well, magicians always gave me the creeps, is it some side-effect of exposure to these things that it drives them a little sideways?
Leading the carriage into the opening, he set it to the side with plenty of room in the centre.
"We have arrived, my Lord, to the Alcove of the Ancient Traveller."
With a flourish, he presented the rather anti-climactic clearing. The nobleman jumped out of the carriage excitedly, clearly eating up every word. He held in his hand some kind of strange, block-shaped stone and was bringing it up to his eye, pressing a button at its top while pointing it in all directions.
Kalzin, having been with the chatterbox of a noble for at least a week, had heard about the new invention enough times he felt he now could work as a manufacturer if this escort business didn't work out.
Still, it seemed miraculous to him. The ability to capture a frozen instance of time? Were those mad magicians really that advanced? As he thought that, his gaze wandered in the direction of that strangely pulsing crystal and he corrected himself mentally.
Yeah, if we've got glowing rocks pulling carriages, why not? Life's more fun when you're not a skeptic, that's what grandfather always used to say. Well, he ended up believing he could fly despite everyone telling him he was wrong, and threw himself off of Hell's Peak. I guess he wasn't wrong, for about ten seconds at least.
Shrugging his shoulders, he walked around to the back of the carriage, where the compartment stored all of the extraneous equipment the nobleman had brought along for his expedition. Truly, him and his brother could live here fine with just the clothes on their back, but Kalzin supposed nobles were used to their little creature comforts.
Retrieving a few dry logs and matches, he gestured to Jeropher with a jerk of his head. He brought out the food while he started on setting up the fire. By the time he had it going, the sun had truly set, the shadows dancing between the orange-red lights of the flame.
The nights in this part of the world were fairly temperate, but it would be too chilly to spend without some kind of warmth at least. And the light was always useful to ward off any curious animals in the night.
Jeropher began setting up the roast - he was far and above the better cook between the two of them - while Kalzin sat on the soft grass. The noble had brought out a folding chair, his attendant standing behind him like a shadowy mass, and was sipping coffee from a metallic container.
Peaceful nights watch over our journey.
The stars above twinkled merrily in response, hiding naught behind their hollow facade.
***
"We approach hallowed ground, cricket. Be wary, for there are spectres here that are old, ancient. I had not thought to see them here of all places, perhaps that is a sign...how long as it even been? I can hardly remember...the void in my mind itches and scratches and pains me, I must regain what I have lost!"
Jeffbob's voice felt old, as if it was weighed down by uncountable amnesiac aeons, while Ziriothrax's thoughts whirred silently.
Ancient even by his standards? Surely not, but if so, then it means my theories about this world may be wrong. No, not wrong. Falling short of the truth. The scale exceeds imagination, oh how exciting!
"Hallowed ground?"
His voice, in comparison, was shrill and squeaky. Like an insect's. More specifically, like a cricket's. That is because he is a cricket.
"I am surprised you know of it not, little cricket. Perhaps your self-touted wisdom falls short in at least this matter compared to me."
"Just answer the question," Ziriothrax snapped. Jeffbob chuckled good-naturedly before replying.
"It is called the Alcove of the Ancient Traveller. He Who Travels Across The Sea of Flames. Who shall appear in shadows of angels, to Chronicle the End of Days."
He paused and the suspension built, even the wind stilled as if the world itself yearned to hear.
"The Voyager."