Albin had walked for a few meters before the letters formed words. Mistelbrunn was now as far away as it had been when he woke up.
"I've read about levels…"
"I didn't know you could -"
Albin looked at the text. His eyes lay on it with a calmness he had missed. "Level 2, hm? And two abilities even!"
Shadow circled around Albin's legs. His tail wiggling and touching him occasionally while Albin inspected the news. "Never heard of those."
"You've studied for 300 years and have never heard of those?"
"Even the wisdom of your Familiar is limited."
Albin waited for a description that came with his Summon Familiar ability when he woke up, but nothing appeared. The words lay calmly in the air. "I feel nothing…"
Shadow seemed to dig in his memories for a moment before he said, "You'll figure it out."
Albin swiped the text away the same way he had about a week ago. His eyes went from the text over to Shadow, who - despite being a cat - appeared to have gotten more self-confidence. "Let's keep going. It will be a few days before we enter Caldrin. We should find a place to sleep."
He checked a small bag he had carefully prepared. On their way out of Mistelbrunn, he had bought a small loaf of bread with his last copper. Bread and meat sat together in the bag. Some spare clothes as well.
That was it. Clothes. Meat. Bread. A knife. "And a cat…"
"Excuse me?"
"I'm sorry, a Familiar, I mean!"
Shadow blew a short hiss in Albin's direction, who raised his arms playfully and fell a step back.
The two walked north, following the river alongside Harlik's fields and the place where it happened. Now, there stood two pillars connected by a rope along the river bend. When Albin looked over, he increased his pace. The farmers in the field were busy with their work and didn't notice him anymore.
Road and river went through a forest. It was noon by now, and the sun was at its highest. Albin opened a few buttons of his shirt to cool down from the breeze.
When they reached the forest, Albin could see thick, old needle trees that reminded him of the forest where he used to pick mushrooms when he was a child. He had always liked picking mushrooms. It was the perfect balance of an outdoor activity mixed with the feeling of going for a hunt when he was little. The fact that he was not hunting and rather gathering was something he only found out later in school.
It smelled like a sweet pine resin when he stepped toward the first tree. The ground underneath was no longer field or grass, but had become covered by moss, wild plants, messy grass in some places, and bushes in others.
He touched the birch of the first tree and noticed how warm it was from the sun shining. The road through the forest became less wide, and he had to focus on the path to make sure they stayed on it. From outside, he could tell that this forest was a large one.
As they entered, the sunshine was dimmed by the needles, only letting it through in some places. A breeze brushed through the trees, making them shake loudly. After the sound had settled, Albin could hear other things. Tiny animals are moving in the coppice under him. A bird chirping and another one answering by singing its song. The river that continued to run, dead pieces of wood that drifted away with the flow, and made a dull sound when they bumped into stone. After a while, Albin looked back and saw the entrance getting out of sight as the two walked around a bend.
In the late afternoon, they stopped to fetch some water for drinking and washing. As Albin got down next to the river, he noticed a larger stick that lay on the ground. He grabbed it, examined it, and decided that this made the perfect walking stick. He pulled out his knife carefully and sharpened the end that faced the ground. He looked at Shadow, who fetched a small fish out of the water. "I assume you prefer it here rather than cities?"
"Depends. Sometimes, it's not the worst thing to just be a cat."
"Huh, what about your pride?"
"That's the price I have to pay. No one asked about my pride when you called me."
Albin looked at his stick. Nice and pointy. He pointed in Shadow's direction. "Watch out."
"Or else?"
"Else… you'll be sleeping on the ground tonight," a laugh escaped his mouth as his shoulders went up and down quickly. "But we should find a place to sleep soon. Keep your eyes open."
They walked for a few hours until Albin could see the light getting dimmer and decided to slow down. They were still in the middle of the forest, and there was no clear point of direction aside from the river.
After a while of evaluating his surroundings, a place near a large pine seemed suitable. The ground was covered in dry moss, no bushes around, and enough space for a small fire.
"FIRE!"
"Yes?"
"I've never made one."
"Should have thought about that sooner."
"Thanks, as always."
Albin prepared their camp to the best of his knowledge, which came from books and documentaries. The fireplace had to be in the dirt, nowhere near anything flammable. He gathered a few stones and formed a circle, then collected dead wood that lay on the ground. At last, he gathered some moss and piled it up to build an improvised bed for himself and a small one for Shadow.
Lastly, he found a thin and long stone. Piling up the wood, he gathered some small sticks and dry fiber from a plant to create a nest. He placed his knife inside the nest and slid the stone along the back of the knife.
A short spark appeared and vanished inside the nest. Then, nothing.
He continued the process several times, but nothing happened. Again. And again. And again. Maybe one out of every ten strikes resulted in a spark at all.
It was getting darker, and his lower arms started to tighten, fingers slowly going numb, when -
Albin felt the same unusual sensation he felt when summoning the shadow. Something flicked in his inner eye, and he put the knife in exactly the right angle, hit it again as… a spark appeared. It fell exactly where it was supposed to fall, and instinctively, Albin carefully blew onto the nest until he had created a flame.
With calm hands, he put the nest into the middle of his woodpile and kept blowing. The wood started to crackle as the flame increased in size and brightness. Soon after, they had a small but comfortable fire. When he was confident, it would not extinguish anytime soon. Albin jumped up, breathing the fresh air mixed with smoke. Deeply.
"I did it! I made fire!"
"So you did."
Albin stood in front of his fire and watched the flames dancing around.
"When I hit that last strike, I felt something."
"I know."
"Was this one of my abilities?"
Shadow lay down next to the fire and looked up at Albin. The dancing flames were reflected in his green eyes. "I think so. I felt it as well."
"So, one of my cool new abilities is making fire? Fucking shit."
"You don't like it?"
"I mean… I thought about something more interesting, to be honest."
Shadow crawled up and eased himself. His head was lying on his paw, eyes closed. "It is up to you to make it interesting."
Albin sat down next to Shadow, whose breathing turned into a purr quickly.
For a few more minutes, he watched the flames, chewing on a piece of bread and carving his stick. He then turned his bag into a pillow and crawled on top of his moss-bed and watched the needles dance the same dance the flames did. His bed was hard in the back, and an adjustment had to be made. Nothing itched today.
Tonight, he dreamed of the first time they had met. How he had fallen in love the moment he met her and her not showing interest at all. She thought he was rather creepy. Tonight, he chuckled himself to sleep.
XXX
When he opened his eyes, he noticed his shivering body before noticing the smoke from the burnt-out fire. A small glimmer in the ashes was all that was left from his warm and comforting creation.
It was still night, light only coming through from a moon that was about twice the size of what he remembered from home. It was the first night outside he had really experienced since arriving involuntarily. And despite it still being summer, it was surprisingly cold.
His next sense woke up. It was a sound right behind him. Sticks cracking, something brushing through the grass, and then a little gnawing sound.
Albin turned around quietly and stared into the darkness. The bushes around their provisional camp were moving in the wind that gave him goosebumps when it touched his skin.
Then, a little silhouette. Then another, and soon the third one followed. Tiny animals that walked around their camp. One of them walked too close to the glimmer so that Albin could see some similarities to a mouse. In size and appearance. Short fur, a tail, and the size fit the description. If it wasn't for these large pointy ears…
"Shush," Albin whispered in their direction, but the animals didn't move.
"Rootrunners," he heard inside his head. It drew his attention from the mice to two green eyes. "They won't do you harm. Sleep."
"What do you mean? Sleep? How am I supposed to sleep with these fucking things around?"
"Isn't that what you decided to do?"
Albin looked back at the rootrunners. Happily sneaking around his legs and sniffing on his shoes.
"Get. The fuck. OUT!"
When he shouted, the rootrunners started to run faster than they had before, almost confusingly without a clear path in mind until one of them got too close to the fireplace and tumbled directly into the hot ashes. A shriek he had never heard before stung in his ears and drew its path into Albin's jaw, where his teeth started to hurt. The little rootrunner lay on its back, shrieking, hysterically shaking its body while trying to get up on its feet.
Albin walked toward the hot ashes and tried to grab them, his hands missing due to their movement. He pulled his hand back at the last try after it got too close to the hot ashes. His ears ringing, jaw tightened, he searched for his walking stick next to his improvised bed, grabbed it, and started to push the rootrunner out of its misery. After two pushes, the little animal landed on the ground next to the campfire. Albin took it and brought it to the river to prevent deeper burns.
Carefully, he washed the little thing at the river. It looked bad. Its fur was gone in most places, leaving only charred scraps of skin behind. The smell found its way into Albin's nose. The tiny feet were deformed, presenting two instead of four toes on the upper left leg. Its ears that stood straight up into the air were burnt in places.
What an odd feeling. He could hold the rootrunner in one hand. It looked so innocent and cute. While at the same time, it shivered, working hard to keep its little eyes open.
It had stopped shrieking by now, and Albin's ears could hear the forest breathe again. He gently put the rootrunner on the ground and waited. It kept shivering, apathetically looking into the distance. It walked for a few steps. Slowly. A few tiny steps, going from one paw to the other before it started limping first, then dragging itself a few more steps before its final collapse.
It breathed softly and out of rhythm before he pushed his knife into this innocent creature, silencing it forever.
Albin brought it back to where he first met the rootrunner, dug a little hole with a stone, and buried it.
Shadow sat next to him quietly, watching the sun rise slowly, coloring the sky and sending light through the tree crowns.
Albin packed the few things he took with him and noticed a small piece of bread missing. It looked like at least the rootrunner died with a full belly. He cut away around the missing piece after cleaning his knife in the river and took a bite. "So, shall we continue?"
"Indeed, we should."
"Any idea how long we are going to be on the road?"
"Not in the slightest," Shadow answered. There was a smug undertone in his voice.
Following the path, both of them walked deeper into the forest. The path now departed from the river, and Albin drank as much water as possible before leaving his source.
After a few hours, the forest started to thin, the sun started to bring more light, and Albin's skin began to warm up again. The road soon consisted of less dirt and more stone until it eventually transformed from a path to a full-on road.
The area was a lot more open now, and trees grew occasionally on both sides of the road. In the distance, Albin got a view of a large mountain, majestically leading into the sky until its tip disappeared somewhere in the clouds.
Both walked as the road went from left to right, then left again, finally leading to a crossroads. One road leads in the general direction of the mountain. Another into another direction. There was a sign that was in good shape for being out in nature for so long:
North - Greyback
West - Caldrin
South - Mistelbrunn
"Caldrin!"
"Careful, he can read," Shadow already set foot on the road leading to Caldrin.
"Shadow, why do you always have to be like this? Aren't we supposed to… You know… be friends?"
The familiar kept walking, then stood for a moment, looking back at Albin. "Are we not?"
Albin sighed and followed. The two walked, talking about the meaning of friendship and the happenings of tonight. At the end of the discussion, Albin asked Shadow what he thought of it.
Shadow walked calmly when his pace slowed down just enough to walk behind Albin. He could feel his familiar mustering him from behind. The way he walked, the way he carried himself. Shadow walked behind him for quite a while, then increased his pace, now walking next to Albin again. "I am not here to judge you. Or your actions. But if you ask me what I think of you as a person, I am content. Not proud. Content. You've become stronger already, even if you haven't noticed it yet. You are a good man, Albin."
"Thank you, Shadow," Albin said in return, his back getting straight.
"What I have not figured out myself yet is whether you being a good man is good for us."
The man looked down at his familiar, who couldn't be bothered. He wanted to think of something clever to return. The words did not come up.
For the next hour, they changed the subject, talking about their expectations of a metropolis like Caldin, the opportunities, what an academy looks like from the inside, and the opportunity of finding a way home.
It was in the middle of this conversation when they heard a scream from the road ahead. "Help! My wares! You there! Please help me!"
They looked ahead and saw an obese man wearing colorful green clothing, a hat with a large feather, and fine leather shoes. Next to him sat another one. Younger, fitter, with a short sword at his side and a strange wooden object on his back. He wore dark pants, a white shirt, and a dark green cloak. He was poking at a small crate that lay broken on the street.
Shadow and Albin looked at each other and walked closer.
"Thank you, kind sir," the obese man shouted, his hat hanging crooked on his head. "Well, I am deeply thankful for your kind help!"
Albin didn't say a word. His eyes were on the other man and his tail that peeked out behind his cloak.