ERIC
Eric shivered and tightened his cloak. The countryside air was bitterly cold, its unique aroma combining pine with damp. He didnât care for it, especially not in Porkwood. He swayed gently with Daisyâs strides and considered getting off to give her a break, then looked at the state of the muddy road and thought better of it. His boots were barely holding themselves together, and a new pair was a luxury he couldnât afford.
The branches obeyed the windâs command, moving overhead with a gentleness only the trees understood, and that was because they didnât have much else going on. The thick undergrowth made Eric uncomfortable. The warped limbs and dense foliage provided far too much cover for lurking highwaymen. Such things were a cliche, but bandits were staunch in their traditions and clung to the same old methods - like hiding in the bushes. The Bandit King ruled Porkwood, and he was said to be predictably ruthless and ruthlessly predictable. Eric looked back to check on Rose, but she seemed gleefully oblivious.
After a dayâs ride north, Eric had almost become used to the chug of Roseâs metal contraption, which had rumbled the entire way from Porkhaven. But every now and again it would violently splutter, making him wince. He was surprised that they hadnât drawn more attention to themselves.
âWhy canât you just use magic and enchantments like a normal person?â he said. âItâs not natural.â
Rose smiled. âYou need to get with the times Eric. Technology is the future.â
Eric mumbled something about a trollâs nether regions and turned back. He patted Daisy on the side as if to reassure her that her job wasnât threatened by metal gadgets. Roseâs chuffer was pulling the usual wagon that was full to the brim with equipment, which meant an easier job for Daisy, but also made her less essential.
âWonderful day isnât it?â said Rose.
âNo, it ainât.â Eric scowled. âCanât you turn that thing down a bit?â
Rose patted the metal shell. She sat at the peak of her machine, operating levers either side while its little legs scurried obediently under the great dome. âIâm afraid this is as quiet as it gets.â
Eric had managed to find a spare banner for it, which made it stand-out a little less. However, the signâs words of: âno dragonsâ had been crossed out with a hasty blot of paint.
âI think we should call it a day,â Eric squinted at the last of the daylight trickling through the leaves. âKeep a lookout for a clearing to camp for the night.â
Rose called out from behind him. âExcellent! Iâm starving.â
Shortly after the sun set, a glade opened up beside the road, a great circle of dark green. High above, stars twinkled through the awning of the trees, and below, the marks of old fires pitted the floor, ones probably made by adventurers rather than honest folk. This was confirmed when Eric saw the array of discarded Elixir vials, their Adventurerâs Supply symbol blending into the twigs and mouldy leaves.
Eric led Daisy over to a tree and tied her to it, being careful to ask permission. The tree didnât reply, so he took it as a yes.
Rose leapt down from her chuffer, which hunkered down and went blissfully quiet. She stretched and pulled off her goggles, then casually picked up one of the many wrappers littering the forest floor. âAdventurerâs Supply ration,â she read out loud, âA days sustenance guaranteed with only two small bites. Warning, do not consume more than six bites.â She turned it over in her hands. âWhat happens if you eat more than six bites?â
Eric smirked. âTry to imagine having six full meals magically appear in your belly all at once.â
Rose grimaced and put her hands over her stomach. âIn spite of that thought, Iâm famished. Have we got adventurer rations too?â
âNo bleeding chance.â
Eric stopped.
There was something in the mud, something living. A shivering patch of green fur amongst the litter. He hurried over and knelt beside the poor creature.
âWhat is it?â asked Rose, coming up behind him.
âA dire-badger.â He noted the puddles of bile matted into its fur. âHeâs been drinking up all these bleeding leftover Elixirs.â
âSo isnât that a good thing? Doesnât Elixir heal you?â
âYes and no.â Eric gave Rose his best stern look. âHighly addictive. Adventurers canât get enough of this damned poison, itâs probably why theyâre so loopy. They leave their old vials all over the place, so a little guy like this could have gotten addicted fast. Now heâs got The Flux.â Eric caressed the creatureâs grey fur. âToo much too soon can kill you. Poor fella.â
âWhat can we do?â
âIf he survives âtil morning, he should be fine. But I should induce more vomiting. Go and get some bark from those greywillow trees. Thatâll ease his pain.â
Rose nodded, then hurried away.
Eric put his fingers into the dire-badgerâs mouth and caressed the back of his tongue. Green ooze shot out, along with flashes of lightening. Eric jumped back in pain, wiping his hands on his overalls. The animal remained unconscious and his breathing became deeper, but still not regular. Itâs eyes became less green. Eric knelt back beside him and stroked his head.
A scream pierced through the forest.
Eric whipped the poisoned darts from his belt and ran towards the sound. Hopping over twigs and brambles, he followed the noise of Roseâs hissing backpack. He found her cowering, backpack-claw outstretched in an attempt to cover her face.
He glanced around. âWhatâs the matter?â
Rose jumped at his voice. âThe tree! It spoke to me!â
Eric laughed. âOf course. You never spoken to a tree before?â
âNo!â she stammered. âI didnât think they actually spoke. I thought it was a metaphor.â
âDonât they talk in The West?â
âOf course not!â
âHow do they communicate then?â
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âWhy do they need to? Theyâre just trees!â
âJust trees?!â boomed the tree. Its two main branches folded into crude crossed-armed shape.
Eric swatted Rose on the back. âShe didnât mean that. Did you Rose?â
Rose trembled and shook her head.
The tree shook its leaves. âDamned foreigners. Youâre as bad as all these adventurers.â
Eric looked up to the tree. It was hard to tell which way they were facing when they didnât have a face, but there was usually more moss on their backside. âSorry about that Mrâ¦?â
âBarkwellington Thunderbranch. But all my friends call me Barkwell.â
âFriends?â said Rose, startled.
Eric laughed. âTrees are very sociable, you know. Barkwellâs probably got more friends than you do.â
Barkwell rustled his leaves with pride. âHeâs not wrong, Iâve got loads.â
âIâm not his friend,â chimed in a nearby tree.
âNor me,â said another.
âOh shut up, the both of you,â Barkwell blurted. He twisted his trunk slightly towards Eric. âYou see what I have to deal with round here?â
âTime for a move, maybe?â Eric suggested.
âDonât you think I tried that? These two keep following me around. Itâs taken me two months to move from over by the road. All this rushing around is doing my bark in.â
The trees around them sniggered, resounding into the forest. It sounded as if the wind was joining in too.
Beads of sap started to seep from Barkwellâs trunk.
âDonât listen to them Barkwell,â said Rose. âWeâll be your friends.â
âI donât need your pity!â Barkwell sniffed. âEspecially not a Westerner. Youâre more machine than human.â
âThereâs nothing wrong with a bit of technology.â Rose shuffled her pack. It gurgled and emitted a whiz of steam.
Eric clapped his hands together. âItâs been lovely chatting guys, but we were really only looking for deadwood. Mind if we take some?â
The trees murmured.
âBy all means.â
âSure.â
âEnjoy my dead bits you pervert.â
âNo problem at all.â
Eric bowed in acknowledgement, grabbed a few handfuls of twigs and walked back into the clearing, making sure he had enough extra for firewood.
Rose followed suit, but noticeably neglected to use her mechanical arm and struggled with her small bundle of twigs. âWhyâd you ask them permission like that?â she said, bending down to pick up the branch sheâd dropped.
Eric threw his bundle down beside the dire-badger. âItâs just polite. Also, trees can be jolly annoying, theyâd be moaning at us all night. Nothing worse than a moaning tree.â
He began to set up a fire but struggled with the damp wood. Rose simply watched, scribbling notes in her book.
Eric frowned at her. âWhat are you writing? Donât you know how to light a fire?â
âOf course, I do. I just wanted to see how you did it.â
Eric stood up, flustered by his failed attempts. âWell, why donât you show me how you do it in The West then?â
Rose smiled, put on her goggles and produced a small metal disc from her bag. She twisted the device and tossed it onto the pile of wood. It erupted in a spurt of white flames, sparks and smoke.
Eric coughed and fanned his face. âVery clever. Couldnât you have done that in the first place?â
âI thought you didnât like technology? You said it wasnât natural.â Rose put her hands on her hips, her face illuminated by the now roaring fire.
âIt ainât. But I never said it wasnât occasionally useful.â
Eric set to work brewing a concoction of greywillow bark, ash and a little Elixir residue. Once it was done, he spooned it into the dire-badgerâs mouth. It wasn't long before the creatureâs breathing was regular again. He wrapped it up in some canvas and carried it over to the fireside. Eric pulled out the camping gear from the wagon and dragged them over to the least muddy looking patch in the clearing. Under normal circumstances, Eric would have been sure to stay at actual lodgings like a normal traveller, not camp in a forest like a filthy vagabond adventurer. But he had to save in any way that he could, which included forfeiting warm beds and tasty dinners. He didnât understand how adventurers could enjoy their lives tramping through the countryside. Sleeping rough was worse than sharing a bed with a were-mole.
Rose sat down beside the fire on one of the strategically placed logs. âSo whatâs for dinner?â
âPorridge and oatcakes.â
Rose raised an eyebrow. âDo all Easterners eat such bland food?â
âThe poor ones do.â
âItâs that bad huh?â
Eric hung his head and sat down in front of her. âTheyâre going to take the shop and Iâll have nothing. I canât exactly afford chimaera tail soup.â
âIs this to do with those bailiffs?â
He took a deep breath. âI had to borrow a lot of money after there was⦠an incident.â
Rose made a knowing look. âWas that with a dragon by any chance?â
Eric felt a pang of fear at the thought. âNone of your business.â
Rose continued to stare at him with her irritatingly kind eyes, eyes that didnât possess even the slightest malice. Eric had never seen anything like it. No one in Porkhaven looked at him like that, not in the forty years heâd lived there. People who looked at people like that got their teeth kicked in if they werenât careful.
Eric sighed. âWhen I was a teenager⦠I wanted to be an adventurer.â
Rose drew an intake of breath. âReally? Why?â
âI thought being a hero was exciting, and that everything my father did at Beast Be Gone was a boring waste of time. That you should be out slaying demons, not catching them. Iâd never been so wrong in all my life. He tried to take me as an apprentice to teach me the right way to do things, along with Freddy Glorp.â
âYour pest control rival?â
âThe very same. Anyway, my father got a job to stop a dragon. As soon as me and Freddy heard about it we snuck off with our adventuring gear to slay the dragon the fun way. Father was only going to put it to sleep. This was years before Adventurerâs Supply, mind you, so I stole the crossbow from our shop and bought some potions from the Alchemy District with my pocket money. We wanted to show my father we were men, not boys. Then maybe heâd listen. We even left him a note.â
âDid he come after you?â
âThank The Mole he did. Heâd already laid traps and sedative-coated sheep around the dragon's lair a few days before. The dragon was weakened. Even so, by the time father got to us Iâd been burned pretty bad. Luckily Iâd drank a cocktail of potions to keep me alive. My father hadnât, that was for adventurers. The smell of Elixir makes me feel sick even today, Iâve never had a potion since.â
âSo what happened to him?â
âHe died. As he was roasting alive, he screamed at me to fire my crossbow, screamed like Iâd never heard before, âShoot it in the eye!â The only weak spot. But⦠I was too late.â Eric took a deep breath and wiped a tear from his cheek. âDid everything I could to get a resurrection to work. But my dad, he⦠was beyond it. Burned to a crisp. I spent all of our savings on failed resurrections, no refunds. From then on there have been more and more adventurers, fewer and fewer jobs, and less and less money.â Eric paused, staring deep into the fire. âAnd that was that.â
âThatâs awful Eric.â Rose shifted in her seat and there was a moment of silence. It lingered as the fire flickered it's comforting melody. âWell, I look forward to giving this one a good thrashing.â
Eric held back a sudden wave of emotion. He pushed it back deep down until he felt normal again, clearing his head. âDragons ainât anything to look forward to. Theyâre not romantic like they are in the tales. Theyâre nasty things thatâll burn you up and slice you to ribbons in seconds.â
Rose gulped. âI see. Well, at least itâll be exciting. Iâve never seen a dragon before.â
âAnd theyâre real ugly too.â He could still see the dragonâs face. The one which tore into his father. The man who taught him everything he knew, gone in a flash of teeth and cinder.
âWith me by your side, Iâm sure we can sort out this big ugly dragon. Then weâll save your shop and buy you a new door.â
Eric emptied the oats into a pan over the fire. âIâm not sure this job will be enough to cover the debt. And even if it was, all these adventurers take the good work from me. I canât even get a contract clearing out goblins from caves, that used to be my bread and butter.â
âSounds like we need to put an end to this adventurer craze.â
âAnd how do you expect us to do that?â
âIâm sure we can think of something.â
Eric poured water into the pan from his waterskin and gave it a stir. âItâll figure itself out eventually. Weâve just gotta weather the storm.â
Rose stood up. âWhat kind of attitude is that?! Itâs all happened with too much coordination, it can't be just a coincidence. We need to take action! Fight back! Do you just want to roll over and take it? Let them kill their way through every creature in the land? Theyâre going to make everything extinct!â
It was infuriating what the adventurers had done to the world. Maybe she was right. What he wouldnât do to go back to the way things were. When people were compassionate to monsters, when you could walk down the street without a threat of violence, when the world was a quieter, more peaceful place. Perhaps there could be a way.
âIâll think about it,â he conceded, âBut first things first, letâs stop this ruddy dragon. Alright?â
âAlright.â Rose sat back down, content. âThank you for taking me on, Eric. I want to help as much as I can.â
âDonât mention it.â
In the background, the trees mumbled their approval, but it was lost in the sound of the wind.