"-rus. Cyrus. Wake up, it's time to go."
Cyrus groaned as Berrodin pushed a steaming bowl into his hands. His back cracked as he sat up, and blinked his eyes. Sunlight streamed through the cave entrance, sparkling off the puddles of water.
"What's this? Porridge?" Cyrus asked, glancing at the oats. He took a bite, and the corner of his mouth twisted. "I feel like it could use a bit of cinnamon."
"I agree. Perhaps I'll buy some when I'm restocking my herbs."
Berrodin climbed to his feet, and hobbled to the entrance. The sunlight caught on the bandages wrapped around his leg as he poked his head out. The once white cloth was now stained a dark red, and surrounded by pale grey skin.
"How does your leg feel?" Cyrus asked, poking at his porridge.
"Better than it looks," Berrodin said, patting his leg. "A bit sore, perhaps, but it could be worse. I can still move it at least."
"That's a relief. I was worried I'd have to carry you into Galeden," Cyrus said. He finished his breakfast, then stored the bowl and his mat. As he stepped outside, he paused and glanced around. Small clusters of purple flowers encircled the clearing, growing around the pines. "Hey, what type of plants are those?"
Berrodin scratched the grey stubble growing along his chin. "Hmm, if I'm not mistaken…."
The old man winced as he knelt next to one of the flowers, and prodded it with a twig. After a moment, he pulled it from the ground, and shook the dirt off the roots. A wide grin spread across his face as he handed it to Cyrus.
Cyrus wrinkled his nose as he took the strange plant. The smell was much stronger than the dried herbs hanging around the cave, but it was undoubtedly the same.
"Selavain?"
"That's right. Although I would have never guessed that they bloomed this late into the year," Berrodin said. His eyes flicked around the grove. "I've been trying to plant them here all year, but they never took root. I wonder what changed. With so much growing, I doubt any wild animals would think of getting close."
"That's good to hear," Cyrus said, tossing the plant into the bushes. His fingers tingled as he brushed them off. "Shall we get ready to head out then?"
"Yes, I'd like to be at Galeden by the end of the day, if possible. Why don't you gather a few sticks to replace the ones we used, while I finish packing."
As Berrodin made his way back into the cave, Cyrus walked through the grove, collecting the branches that had been knocked free by the storm. As he neared the edge, he noticed a trail of hoofprints sunken into the mud.
Cyrus shivered, and hurried back to the cave with his armful of sticks. "I think there was-"
Berrodin leaned against the wall, gritting his teeth as he grabbed his leg. Cyrus threw the branches down, and ran over, helping the old man sit down.
"Hey, are you alright? What happened?"
Berrodin waved him away, and took a few deep breaths. "I'm fine. Fine. My leg just gave out on me, is all. I think I tripped over a stone or something."
"Are you certain?" Cyrus asked. He glanced at the blackening bandages. "Perhaps we should take a look at your wound. It might be infected."
Berrodin shook his head. "Even if it is, there's nothing we can do out here. I don't have any medicine to treat it, and I've already used all of the clean bandages I brought."
"Then we should hurry to Galeden," Cyrus said. He hurried around the cave, throwing the sticks into a crate, and grabbing their belongings. Slinging his pack over his shoulder, he knelt in front of Berrodin. "Can you stand?"
"I'll need a hand getting to the cart," Berrodin said, nodding towards the wagon.
Cyrus slipped his arm under Berrodins, and lifted him up. After checking the cave one last time, they shuffled through the hanging roots. With a grunt, Cyrus helped Berrodin into his seat, before ducking under the elm branches, and untethering Starvhost.
"Are you going to be able to steer?" Cyrus asked, hooking Starvhost in, and tightening the knots.
Berrodin stretched his arms as Cyrus double-checked the straps. "I believe so. Nothing wrong with my arms."
"Let's go then," Cyrus said. The wagon creaked as he hopped into the back. He eyed the lumpy tarp, goosebumps running up his arms as he imagined the beast beneath. With a snap, the cart lurched forward, before slipping through the trees. As the clearing vanished behind the bushes and branches, he thought he could just hear the faintest whisper, calling to him.
"If we keep at this pace, we should reach Galeden in the early evening," Berrodin said, drowning out the noise. "When we do, you should head to the Redfloor Tavern. It serves as an inn as well, so you'll be able to sleep there for the night."
"What are you going to do?" Cyrus asked, settling back on his pack.
"First, I'll need to request a meeting with Lord Galbren, so I can be rid of this damn beast," Berrodin said, rolling up his sleeves. Sweat beaded along his brow, despite the crisp morning air. "Then, I'm going to visit the marketplace, and try to find the herbs I need. If I can't, I suppose I'll try to find an alchemist."
"An alchemist?" Cyrus asked.
"Yes, you know, someone in the medicinal field that deals with the magical aspects of herbs and animals," Berrodin said. He frowned. "Although they don't use magic themselves, I still don't trust them much. I'd rather rely on my herbs and medicines than their potions and poisons."
"Have you ever considered looking into their methods?" Cyrus asked.
Berrodin scowled. "No. You'll never find me practicing alchemy. It's far too dangerous for those involved."
Cyrus's ear twitched. "Do you think one of their potions might help me regain my memories?"
Berrodin pursed his lips. "I suppose it's possible, but I'll give you a warning. Every alchemist should be approached with the utmost caution. If you blindly trust one, they may just give you a vial of sweet water and call it the elixir of life. You never know for certain."
"I'll keep that in mind," Cyrus said. He fell silent for a bit, lost in his thoughts as the towering pines passed by.
As it grew closer to noon, they came across a fork in the road, splitting to the west and the north. An old redwood sign stood in the middle, cloaked in ivy. Cyrus hopped down, and used a stick to move it away, squinting his eyes to make out the words.
'Galeden or Faldersel?'
Cyrus glanced at Berrodin. "Faldersel… That's the kingdom further north, along the eastern coast, isn't it? You mentioned it last night."
"That it is. I'm glad you remember. It's also a merchant kingdom, with one of the largest harbors in Arkendel," Berrodin said, squinting at the sign with bloodshot eyes. "If you can't find any hints about your past in Galeden, then I'd advise you to go there next."
"I'll keep that in mind," Cyrus said. He climbed back into the carriage as they continued down the road to Galeden.
The clop of hooves echoed through the forest, mixing with the rustling branches. Cyrus frowned, and scanned the empty trees, both high and low. A nest here and there, with hollows in the trees. Yet there were no animals to be found.
"Say, have you seen any birds today?" Cyrus asked, twisting around. The bare branches waved at him, their leaves like beckoning fingers,
Berrodin stiffened. "Now that you mention it, no, I haven't. How odd. These woods are usually filled with wildlife. I've never seen them empty before."
"I think we should hurry," Cyrus said, gripping the wood.
Berrodin's knuckles whitened as he snapped the reins. "You don't need to tell me twice."
The next hour passed in silence, as both Cyrus and Berrodin kept an eye out. Only when the forest of pines fell away to a field of wheat and corn did they relax. Beyond the crops, the high stone walls of Galeden rose, casting a shadow over the clattering carriages and wagons waiting to get in. Three grey mountains encircled the kingdom, with pointed white peaks towering above it all.
"We should part ways here," Berrodin said, pulling the wagon off to a small clearing where the road split.
"What do you mean?" Cyrus asked.
"The gate I must take is on the other side, and it will take a few hours while they check my identity. It will only be longer if you go with me, since you don't have anyone here who knows you," Berrodin said, stretching out his hand. "Here, help me down."
"That seems a bit much, doesn't it?" Cyrus asked, dropping to the ground. "Surely, we can go a bit further together."
"No, it'll be better this way," Berrodin said. He took Cyrus's arm, and slid off his seat, his leg cracking as he landed. With a grimace, he straightened his back, and shook his foot. "There. That's better. I was getting a bit stiff from all the riding anyway."
"Will you be able to make it into the kingdom on your own?"
"You've no need to worry. I'm not so weak that I can't walk on my own," Berrodin said, chuckling. "Now then, you remember what I told you about the redfloor tavern, right?"
Cyrus shouldered his pack. "You mentioned that I could find food and board there."
"That's right, and if you don't mind, would you get two rooms? Once I finish my business, I'll meet you there," Berrodin said. He pulled out a purse of coins, and retrieved a handful of coppers. "This much should cover both rooms, and your supper. If there's anything left, you're welcome to keep it."
"Do you think you'll be back in time for supper?" Cyrus asked, pocketing the coins.
"I certainly hope so," Berrodin said, scratching his stubble. "I'm looking forward to a decent meal, but for now I'll make do with the remaining jerky. It may not be very filling, but I've suffered worse."
Berrodin held out his arm. "In case I'm not able to make it there tonight, I wanted to let you know I enjoyed our journey together."
"As did I," Cyrus said, gripping the old man's arm. "I'll see you tonight, then."
The old man grinned and gave a slight nod. "If you say so."