Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Aurya 11th 468 AC

Kimmel Anderson

Kimmel watched Raena's retreating figure, her light footsteps barely disturbing the quiet hum of the guild hall. Thirteen years had passed since he'd found her, a trembling, orphaned child, and nursed her back to health, a bond forged in shared grief and resilience. Before that fateful encounter, Kimmel had been a mercenary, his life a blur of contracts and coin. But a year prior, he'd returned from one final job, eager to embrace his wife and toddler, only to find their home shrouded in sorrow, their lives claimed by a merciless illness. The loss had extinguished the fire in his mercenary soul, leaving him adrift, wandering from town to town as an adventurer. It was during one of these aimless quests that he stumbled upon Raena, a fragile spark of life amidst the ashes of tragedy. In her, he found a purpose, a chance to mend the broken pieces of his own heart. Over the years, they had become each other's family, their bond forged in shared loss and unwavering loyalty.

He had watched her blossom into adulthood, a silent guardian as she navigated the complexities of life. He had seen her first love, Harold, a young blacksmith with a charming smile and a quick wit. Their romance had bloomed with the promise of lasting happiness, but fate, as it often did, had other plans. Harold, lured by the allure of easy coin, had fallen in with the Court of the Hand, fencing stolen goods and running petty errands. It was nearly a year into their relationship before Kimmel uncovered Harold's double life, a secret Raena had miserably pleaded with him to abandon. He had agreed, promising to sever ties after one final job, a decision that sealed his fate. Raena had found him in their secluded meeting spot, his lifeless body suspended from the gnarled branches of an ancient tree, a grotesque testament to the Court of the Hand's brutality. The sight of his tortured form, the echo of her heartbroken cries, still haunted Kimmel. It was during this time, as she transitioned into adulthood at sixteen, that Kimmel's protective instincts reached a fever pitch. He had hunted down the thieves responsible for Harold's death, delivering swift and merciless justice. He then sent a chilling message to the Court of the Hand, a stark warning: if they ever dared to lay a finger on Raena, he would dismantle their organization, brick by bloody brick.

He had always done what he could to shield her from harm, a paternal instinct that ran deep within his soul. Yet, he also recognized the delicate balance between protection and stifling her growth. Raena was an adult, a capable woman in her own right, especially since she had officially joined the guild at seventeen years. She had proven her resilience time and again, carving out a place for herself with diligence and skill, content to take on the simpler quests that allowed her to hone her abilities and earn a steady living. He knew he had to let her forge her own path, even if it meant watching from the sidelines, his heart aching with a silent worry.

With a mental shake, he banished the lingering memories, refocusing his attention on the quest board. His party, Stepping Wolf, awaited his guidance, their next adventure hanging in the balance. He scanned the parchments, searching for a challenge worthy of their skills. Just as he spotted a promising lead, he paused, offering a warm wave to Raena as she exited the hall, a silent acknowledgment of her departure.

Raena Silverthorne

Raena made her way through the bustling streets, heading towards the south gate, the gateway to Nestir's Forest. Eagle Point, a circular town nestled amidst the wilderness, boasted two main gates, north and south, each leading along the well-worn path of the main road. The town's layout was a marvel of practicality, with the town square at its heart, a vibrant hub of commerce and community. From this central point, roads radiated outwards like the spokes of a wheel, connecting the residential districts that formed the town's outer ring. A sturdy log palisade, a testament to the constant threat of the surrounding forest, encircled the town, offering a measure of protection against the dangers lurking within. Eagle Point, strategically located, lay three days' journey from the vast expanse of the ocean and week from the towering peaks of the mountains. Beyond the town's walls, fertile farmland stretched towards the encroaching forest, a patchwork of fields and pastures that provided sustenance for the town's inhabitants.

Nestir's Forest was a vast, untamed wilderness, stretching from a day's journey to the west, all the way to the towering mountains in the east. Within its shadowed depths dwelled a menagerie of wild beasts, fearsome monsters, and enigmatic fae creatures. Scattered settlements, small pockets of civilization, clung to the edges of the forest, including the desolate husk of Myne, her former home. Kimmel had told her that the town's destruction was a preventable tragedy, a consequence of the local Viscount's callous indifference. The bitterness of that betrayal still festered within her, fueling a deep-seated distrust of nobles. Rumors whispered that the Viscount's inaction was no accident, that he had deliberately withheld his forces, seeking the demise of a specific individual within Myne's walls. The thought of such calculated cruelty sent a shiver down her spine.

Despite its modest size, Eagle Point served as a vital crossroads, a bustling waypoint for travelers journeying to and from the capital city of Haven. Haven, the heart of the kingdom of Graelyn, lay a month-long journey to the north, nestled just beyond the imposing Drexia mountain range. This strategic location ensured a steady flow of traffic through Eagle Point, enriching its economy and fostering a diverse community. The town boasted a variety of essential services, including the renowned Golden Feather Inn, a haven for weary travelers; a well-equipped blacksmith, where sparks flew and metal sang; a farrier, tending to the needs of horses and other beasts of burden; a skilled tailor, crafting garments of both practicality and elegance; a miller, grinding grain into sustenance; and a tanner, working with hides and leather. To safeguard its citizens, Eagle Point maintained a small garrison of forty-four full-time soldiers, supplemented by dedicated volunteers and the ever-present adventurers from the guild, a formidable force against the dangers of the surrounding wilderness.

It was a search party, comprised of local volunteers and led by Kimmel, that had discovered Raena, a lone figure wandering aimlessly along the road. She was found a day's journey north of the desolate ruins of Myne, and two days south of Eagle Point, her eyes vacant, her spirit broken.

As Raena strolled along the well-worn road, the canopy of the overgrown forest enveloping her in a verdant embrace, her thoughts drifted to her life in Eagle Point. She scanned the undergrowth, searching for the telltale sign of an old game trail, a hidden path that would lead her to a secluded clearing where Wings of Light flowers bloomed. Finally, her eyes landed on the familiar sight of a sizeable, fractured rock, marking the entrance to the trail. A sense of anticipation stirred within her. She paused, inhaling deeply, allowing the symphony of forest scents to fill her senses: the rich, earthy tones of damp loam, the sharp, clean scent of pine needles, the musky aroma of decaying vegetation and damp mushrooms, and the subtle tang of wet rocks carried on the cool air from a nearby stream.

Reaching the weathered rock, she slipped onto the game trail, its winding path a familiar route through the impenetrable undergrowth. The forest floor, a tapestry of fallen leaves and damp earth, muffled her footsteps as she moved deeper into the woods. Soon, the trees parted, revealing a sun-dappled clearing, a tranquil haven bathed in soft light. A crystal-clear stream meandered through the clearing, its banks adorned with the vibrant blue petals of the Wings of Light flowers, their delicate forms shimmering in the sunlight. With practiced precision, Raena drew her dagger, its sharp blade glinting in the light, and carefully severed the flowers from their stems, ensuring only the blooms were taken. She gathered the delicate blossoms, wrapping them gently in a soft linen cloth before placing them safely within her pack. With her task complete, she retraced her steps, the familiar path leading her back to the main road.

With the Wings of Light flowers safely tucked away, Raena shifted her focus to the boar hunt. Her eyes scanned the roadside, searching for any sign of the beast's passage – deep hoof prints, disturbed earth, or broken branches. She continued down the road, moving further from the town's protective walls, her senses heightened. The boar had been spotted near this area, but wild animals were unpredictable, and it could have easily retreated into the thick forest or wandered further afield. The hunt was on, and Raena was determined to find her quarry.

The ancient track unspooled before her, a timeworn ribbon of earth threading through the emerald gloom of Nestir's Forest. Raena's gaze, sharpened by years spent deciphering the whispers of the wild, meticulously charted the undergrowth, seeking the crude signature of the boar. A crowded canopy, a cathedral of interwoven boughs and rustling leaves, veiled the forest floor in shadow, yet Raena pressed on, her resolve a quiet fire within her. An hour bled into the stillness, each fruitless step seeding a tendril of doubt, and the lure of turning back tugged at her resolve. Then, her focus snagged on a series of unmistakable prints etched in the damp earth. Boar. Heavy and splayed, they gouged the soil with a primal weight, a clear testament to the proximity of her quarry. With a practiced grace, she drew her war bow, the polished wood cool and familiar in her hand, and nocked a shaft, the fletching a soft caress against her skin. She moved with the forest, a silent hunter following the deepening shadows.

A raw, shrieking bellow, a sound ripped from the very heart of the earth, shattered the forest's hushed tranquility, jolting Raena to rigid alertness. She stilled, her breath held captive in her lungs, the bow a steady extension of her will, the arrow poised. Precision was not merely skill; it was survival. A carelessly loosed shaft could unleash the fury of the wounded beast. Through the tangled undergrowth, the boar materialized – a hulking brute of muscle and bristle, its massive head downcast as it rooted through the leaf litter, its ivory tusks, each a formidable scimitar, carving deep furrows in the soft earth. Raena drew the bowstring taut, her vision narrowing to the boar's exposed eye, a bead of black obsidian gleaming amidst the coarse hair. She inhaled deeply, anchoring her focus, and released. The arrow sang a silent song of death, finding its mark with brutal accuracy, piercing the vulnerable orb. The boar convulsed, its powerful frame shuddering, before it crashed to the earth with a resounding thud, the ensuing silence broken only by the whisper of disturbed leaves and the distant sigh of the wind through the ancient trees.

Raena approached cautiously, her dagger drawn, its sharp edge gleaming in the dappled sunlight. She remained vigilant, ready to deliver a swift, decisive strike if the boar showed any sign of life. The massive creature twitched, its powerful legs mimicking the motion of running, a final, involuntary spasm before it lay still. A sigh of relief escaped Raena's lips as she stepped closer, her senses still on high alert. She knelt beside the boar, the weight of her success settling upon her, and with a practiced motion, she sliced across its neck. A surge of dark, crimson blood welled up from the wound, flowing out and pooling on the damp forest loam. The air filled with the sharp, metallic tang of blood, mingling with the earthy, musky scent of the forest floor, a primal aroma that spoke of life and death in the wilderness.

With practiced efficiency, Raena set about preparing to transport her kill. She scanned the surrounding area, her eyes searching for suitable materials. Finding a collection of sturdy, straight branches, she quickly set to work, snapping and trimming them to create a makeshift litter. From her pack, she retrieved a length of rope, expertly weaving and knotting it to secure the branches together, forming a sturdy platform. With a grunt of effort, she heaved the boar onto the litter, its weight a testament to her strength. She then secured the boar to the litter with more rope, ensuring it wouldn't shift during the journey. Finally, she tied the entire contraption to her waist, the weight of the boar pulling against her as she began the long trek back to Eagle Point, the forest path winding before her like a green and brown ribbon.

Upon reaching Eagle Point's South Gate, she was greeted by one of the guards, Steven. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows, stretching across the cobblestone path, and Raena could feel the weariness settling into her bones.

“Back from a hunt, Raena?” Steven asked, his voice warm and familiar. He leaned against the gate's thick wooden frame, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Looks like you've brought back quite a haul.”

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Raena nodded, a bead of sweat trickling down her temple. "Yes, I took care of the boar that's been harassing travelers on the road," she stated, glancing back at the impressive carcass.

Steven looked over her shoulder, "You packed that beast in from very far away," he asked curiously.

"About six miles," she stated, though the strain was evident in the set of her shoulders.

"That beast must weigh a small mountain," Steven exclaimed. "Let me get you some help!" He whistled sharply, and two more guards appeared from behind the gate. "You men take the carcass from the lady and help her get it back to the guild.”

With a practiced ease, Raena untied the rope from her waist, handing it off to the two guards. "Thank you, Steven. I appreciate the help," she told the first guard, who nodded his brown head, a friendly grin spreading across his face, and winked.

"With the help you give, it's no problem. That boar has been creating quite a ruckus on the road. It took out a merchant's wagon yesterday," Steven informed her honestly.

"It did? It wasn't hard for me to take him out; I only used one arrow," Raena told him. "Maybe the merchant's guards weren't good with a bow?"

Steven laughed. "Only you would say such a thing. Not everyone is as gifted with a bow as you are, Raena. Some might even call it magic." Raena slightly winced as the word magic left his lips.

"Well, I'd best be getting back so I can turn in my quests," she said, a slight weariness in her voice, waving to Steven and following the two guards already pulling the litter with practiced ease toward the guild. Raena hurried to catch up, her legs feeling as though they'd shed a heavy burden now that she wasn't hauling the carcass.

"You did good, Raena," Chad said, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he strained against the weight of the carcass. "I'm surprised you managed to haul it as far as you did." He gulped for air, his shoulders hunched as he put his full weight into hauling. "This beast has to be at least 200 pounds.”

Raena nodded, her expression grimly acknowledging the effort. She knew how hard it was to pull the dead weight, and she agreed it must weigh at least 200 pounds. It took them a little over twenty minutes to haul the carcass to the guild. Once there, the guards dropped the rope, the heavy thud of the carcass echoing in the guild's receiving area.

"Here you are. We'll be headed back to the gate now. You take care, Raena," Chad said, brushing sweat from his brow and running a hand through his black hair. "We're going to go get some water before heading back to our post." The second guard nodded his head in agreement. They gave her a final nod and headed back toward the gate.

"Thank you, Chad and Kendrick," she called out to the two, a wave of relief washing over her. "I appreciate the help. I was about exhausted when I reached the gate. I don't know if I would have been able to get this carcass here without your help." They nodded, friendly grins on their faces, and waved goodbye as they continued back to the south gate.

With a determined grip, Raena lifted the rope and hauled the carcass around the corner of the guild to the butcher, receiving a chit to give to Xera the following day once the boar was butchered. The smell of raw meat and steel filled the small processing area. Heading into the bustling guild, she approached the front desk and Xera; she set her pack down, pulled out the bag of Wings of Light, and showed Xera the chit she'd received. Raena handed over the two completed quests.

"My, my, did we have a fortuitous day," Xera exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she quickly tallied the numbers. "Let's see how much we owe you so far. That's two silver and thirty copper for the Wings of Light, and eight silver sixty-five copper for the boar—that's just for bringing it in, mind you. With a hunting bow, no less! You continue to surprise me, Raena. Be sure to stop by tomorrow and get what we owe you for the meat, hide, and tusks," Xera told her, tapping her quill against the ledger. "Would you like to pay your dues and room fee as well? Or take it from what we will owe you from the boar?”

"Take it from what the guild will pay for the boar, please," Raena replied, her voice tinged with hopeful anticipation. "And for the record, Xera, it was a war bow, not a hunting bow. Is there any word on the request I put in for a teacher? I know it hasn't been long, but..." Raena scooped up the coins, quickly glancing at the total before securely tucking them into her coin pouch. She now had sixty silver and seventy-five copper, a considerable sum for everyday needs, especially considering most commoners only made three to six gold in an entire year. While most goods could be easily bought with copper and silver, only special or rare items ever commanded prices in gold or mythril.

Xera nodded, her expression softening with understanding. "The request was sent to outlying guilds as well as posted here, but no, we haven't heard back yet. It will likely take a few days," Xera responded. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise as a realization dawned on her. "Oh, that's right! I keep forgetting you use a war bow. My apologies, dear." Raena's shoulders slumped, a wave of disappointment washing over her. "Cheer up; these things take time," Xera said, noticing her posture. The guild hall buzzed with the usual evening activity. "I'm sure we'll hear something back this week. It just takes time for the request to reach everyone.”

Raena nodded, a flicker of disappointment still lingering in her eyes. "I know, I just couldn't help but hope," she said. Just then, her stomach let out a loud, echoing rumble. "Well, I might as well get some food," Raena said, forcing a smile at Xera. Xera nodded, a small smile of her own forming.

"Don't forget to bring me your chit tomorrow," Xera reminded her.

"I won't," Raena responded, her eyes already drifting toward the serving line, eager for the rest of her payment. The smell of stew and fresh baked bread was calling to her, and her stomach rumbled again. She navigated through the bustling crowd, the murmuring voices and clinking utensils creating a warm, lively atmosphere. The smell of wood smoke from the fireplaces mixed with the savory aroma of the stew. The warm glow of the hearth fires cast long shadows across the serving area. She waited patiently in line, and before long, it was her turn to receive a steaming bowl and a small, warm loaf of buttered bread.

Once she had her meal, she went back to the central area of the guild, where all the tables were, and looked for an empty table. She spotted one against the far wall, nearest the crackling fireplace by the quest board. The warmth of the fire radiated against her back. Sitting down, she began eating, the savory aroma of the stew filling her senses along with the general noise of the guild. Before long, a large shadow appeared, abruptly blocking the flickering light from the fireplace, and the warmth it radiated. She looked up, a slight startle in her eyes, to see Kimmel and the other three members of Stepping Wolf.

"Mind if we sit with you, Rae?" Kimmel asked, waiting for her nod of approval. Raena smiled warmly up at him, her green eyes meeting his weathered gray ones, familiarity passing between them. She nodded. The group of men began to situate themselves around the table, pulling up chairs and making themselves cozy.

"How did your quests go?" Kimmel asked as they sat down, his eyes filled with anticipation. Raena nodded, giving him a thumbs-up as she swallowed a mouthful of the warm stew, savoring the flavor. The other men leaned in, their expressions eager to hear about her day.

"Good. I took out the boar, giving travelers issues on the road," she said, a note of pride ringing in her voice. "With only one arrow," she added, pausing slightly for emphasis. The men exchanged impressed glances, a few murmuring their approval.

"The one that took out a merchant wagon yesterday?" one of the men, Jonathan, asked, his voice laced with a hint of concern. He leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Raena, waiting for confirmation. The other men around the table paused their conversations, their attention drawn to the topic.

"The very one," Raena replied, nodding, a warm feeling of camaraderie spreading through her as she looked at the group. She sat back for a moment, taking them all in.

"Looks like a good hunt, Raena," Jonathan commented, a slight smile on his face. He was a lanky man with light brown hair and keen brown eyes, a former ranger whose hands still moved with the practiced ease of a bowman.

"You're getting stronger with every outing," Kimmel added, his voice a low rumble of approval. The group's seasoned warrior, his black hair was peppered with gray, and his gray eyes reflected years of battles and wisdom. His many weapons were always within easy reach.

"So when will you join our party?" Jimmothy teased, a playful grin spreading across his face. "We need a mage." Jimmothy, another warrior and Jonathan's younger brother, possessed blonde hair and bright blue eyes that radiated a cheerful energy, his longsword skills renowned throughout the guild.

"I’d welcome a reliable mage," Darius chimed in, his voice quiet but firm. The scout, with sandy brown hair and sharp green eyes, his daggers and bow always at the ready, his movements as silent as a shadow.

They were her found family, these men she had known for the past thirteen years, the few she was somewhat close to. Though she was closest to Kimmel, a bond forged in shared trials and quiet understanding. The others had helped her as well, offering guidance and support as she grew into adulthood. Together, they made up the party Stepping Wolf, a constant in her ever-changing life.

Raena smiled and shook her head, "When I learn to properly focus and use my magic, Jimmothy." The men all laughed except Kimmel.

"That's enough teasing, Jimmothy," he said, his voice firm, cutting the laughter short. "She has a valid point. She's useless to us until she can control her magic."

"But she can already do a number of things with her magic," Jimmothy protested on her behalf. "She's come a long way since she was a kid we found on the side of the road!"

Kimmel nodded, his gray eyes fixed on Raena with a serious intensity. "She has come quite far, but she still needs training." He looked at Raena, this was an old argument. "Once she gets proper training, she'll be a force to behold."

Raena ducked her head, paling, as she ate her stew, the rich, savory broth warming her from the inside. She dipped her bread in the thick gravy, the warm, yeasty smell mingling with the aroma of the stew, before taking a bite. She knew the men meant well, but the mention of her past and her uncontrolled magic always brought a wave of unease. She longed to control her abilities, to prove herself, but the fear of what she might unleash held her back.

Kimmel gave her a knowing look, his gaze filled with a quiet understanding that mirrored her own unspoken thoughts. He'd witnessed her struggle, the flickering uncertainty that belied her outward confidence. It was precisely why she needed a mentor who could guide her magic beyond his own rudimentary grasp. He'd taught her all he knew, but channeling, the very heart of magic, remained a mystery to him.

The air buzzed with their familiar banter. Jimmothy's sharp wit crackled, a constant stream of playful jabs. Kimmel's quiet observations, punctuated by the occasional dry remark, anchored the conversation. Jonathan's laughter, bright and infectious, filled the space, while Darius's low, rumbling voice added a touch of brooding intensity. The easy camaraderie, a tapestry woven from their distinct personalities, wrapped Raena in a fleeting warmth.

For now, she let the warmth settle over her, answering Jimmothy's barbs with her own sharp wit, her laughter joining theirs as she caught him off guard with a well-placed retort.

As the hours slipped by, the night deepened, and the air filled with tales of past adventures. "Remember that basilisk in Vale?" Jonathan chuckled, stirring the embers of their fire in the fireplace behind them, with a stick.

"Oh, darling, how could I ever forget?" Jimmothy swooned dramatically, leaning back against his chair with one hand on his forehead. "My perfectly styled hair almost turned to stone! Imagine the horror! I mean, who battles a beast that could turn you into a garden statue? It's just so... gauche." He shuddered playfully.

Kimmel grunted, a faint smile playing on his lips. "You were surprisingly quick, for all your dramatics."

"Well, naturally! My agility is unparalleled, especially when my stunning visage is at risk!" Jimmothy retorted, then added with a more serious, though still exaggerated, tone, "But honestly, the sheer ugliness of that thing! Those eyes... it was like staring into a broken mirror, reflecting all the bad decisions I've ever made. For a moment, I thought my new boots were going to be permanently accessorized with my petrified self."

Darius, ever stoic, nodded. "It was close. Kimmel's weapons work was what saved us. He kept its gaze locked, bought us the time we needed."

"Indeed," Kimmel affirmed, his gaze distant as he recalled the fight. "Its speed was deceptive. One wrong move, and we'd have lost someone."

They recounted their escapades in Vale against the Basilisk, the chilling confrontation with the Lich of Kinberg, and how, time and again, it was Kimmel's steady hand that had pulled them from the brink. Each story, a testament to their bond, and Kimmel's unwavering resolve.