“We are merely guests. May we come in?” - Traditional greeting from the secret police of the Northern Kingdoms.

  Martin’s mansion was big. Leo never did feel like he belonged near it. He walked up the path, passing the quaint orchards and gardens he maintained. The homestead was more extensive than Leo’s but more or less the same. Faint tan stone walls and a crimson tile roof. It was tall, with two stories and large glass windows, all well-kept and clean. Despite how overwhelming it felt, he found it quite captivating—a glimpse into another world that wasn’t his own.

  By the door was the man himself, examining the plants in the garden closest to his abode. He was short and stocky, draped in fine silken garments of Murexen stock, complete with his family’s sigil. He wore glasses, and his eyes had an inherent inquisitiveness to them. Always wondering, always curious.

  “Leo!” They embraced heartily. “My word, how long has it been?”

  “Too long.”

  Martin grinned. “Oh indeed. Do you have any new stories to tell?”

  “You know me too well. When you’re on the campaign for so long, one finds comfort in old friends and familiar places.”

  “Indeed. Say, are you still with that guardswoman, the Northerner?”

  “No.”

  “My apologies. I guess it’s been longer than we thought, huh?” Martin lit up. “How ’bout we go to the river? You did mention old places, and that is definitely one for us.”

  …................

  It was a serene and unchanged locale, even after all this time. The water was blue and clear and managed to flow at the perfect pace. Flowers bloomed in scattered thickets on the banks—yellows, whites, and purples filling the pasture with color and beauty. All under the watch of old and robust trees dotted around the periphery, almost protecting the meadow from unworthy intruders.

  Martin’s hands held a piece of parchment and quill, moving with fanatical grace. “So, after the dread-wasp princess was killed, the fires rekindled all by themselves?” He had taken a seat by the river edge.

  Leo was knee-deep in the river’s outer current, stabbing at fish with a spear.

  “Yep, and thanks to our courageous efforts, Venito is liberated,” said Leo, his voice booming with exaggerated boastfulness.

  “You jest, but that is an incredible victory against Morgash.”

  Leo spun toward Martin. “Must you say her name? It only invites trouble.”

  “I’m not afraid of her. Not with people like you around.”

  Leo leaned in. “We’re only human, Martin.”

  “There are other powers at work in this world. Benelim, Gods.”

  “The greater powers must not be tested.”

  “The Gods were here before us, and they’ll be here after we’re gone. As long as Mighty Terra presides over this world, then by Her wisdom and will, we shall always be safe.”

  Leo snorted. “You sound like a Benelim.”

  “Guilty as charged.” Martin shrugged. “Now, was there anything else to the story?”

  Leo shook his head. “You better give credit to me in your book.”

  “Of course, it’s the least I can do. I think I have the title planned out. The Adventures of Leo!”

  Leo laughed. “I said I wanted credit, not to have the damn thing named after me. Besides, naming it after the guardia would probably get more readers.”

  “That’s true. People talk about them in schools all the time.”

  “How are things in the schools anyway?”

  “They’re fine. We have been going over La Saga degli Dei.”

  “Which version?”

  Martin chuckled. “Glad you remember our lessons. It was the post-God edition.” Leo rolled his eyes. “It was the only edition I could find; if I want something better, I must go to the Island City.”

  “What’s stopping you from doing that?”

  Martin sighed. “You know how hard it is for a teacher to access that kind of knowledge when you aren’t a Godshard? Bastards think they know everything. I’ve been thinking about working at the temple. That might give me a way in.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Padre Angelos isn’t so easily fooled.”

  “We’ll see.” Martin put his book down, grabbed another fishing spear, and waded into the river. “Any luck?”

  “Nothing big enough to catch,” Leo said, grunting.

  Martin scoffed and said, “I bet if we had a Godshard here, they’d tell us when to put the spears in.”

  “Maybe we should get Padre Angelos to come with us next time.” Martin glared at him. “If it makes you feel better, they don’t know everything. That Maga Avalon woman who accompanied us at Venito kept getting worked up. She insisted her spell didn’t work.”

  “What? But you said the town was lit on fire! What more could she want?”

  “That’s what I was thinking! I don’t understand it.”

  The two men stared intently at the river. At last, a flicker of light got Leo’s attention. With swift motion and a hiss in and out of the current, Leo held a fish on his pole. In a quick motion, he grabbed it off the stick and threw it into a basket well away from the coast. Martin quickly followed suit and caught a fish himself, flinging similarly.

  “First to ten owes the other an ale,” taunted Leo.

  Martin snagged another fish in response. The two of them went at it, vigilantly watching the current. Sometimes they missed their mark, and other times the fish leaped back into the stream. An hour went by, and both of them had nine fish each. With a swift strike, Leo impaled his tenth one, a big bass that flopped on top of the pile with a wet thud.

  Leo raised his arms. “I win!” Martin wasn’t paying attention. He was looking downriver. “Don’t feel too bad; you did alright for a scholar. I’m sure the money you’ll get from your catches will compensate for the beer we have tonight at the celebration.” Leo turned and finally noticed his friend’s distraction.

  “Do you see that?” whispered Martin.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Leo peered over and instantly saw why his friend was enraptured. A boat, coming downstream fast.

  It wasn’t a large boat, but still enough to hold at least twoscore men. Too big of a vessel to be on these waters, even if it was narrow and sleek. Long oars were jutted out, two rows of them dipping in and out of the water. As it got closer, faint drumming was heard, no doubt drowned out by the water until now.

  The hull was a goldish brown. It had a single small mast and sail. The sail beheld the livery of a golden-leaved tree on a white field. At the bow, the wood gave way to a fierce metal ram forged in the shape of a snarling manticore. Despite the shallow waters, the ship seemed to have no difficulty maneuvering, appearing as if it was floating on top of the water more than being in it.

  “Benelim!” cried Martin. “I’ve never seen them around here before.”

  The ship was nearly on top of them now. Faint blue and yellow glowing eyes stared back at them. Half the crew were manning the oars. They were hard at work; sweat had stained their brown shirts. Their skin was nearly as golden brown as their livery, and their hair was as black as a raven’s.

  Not all of the crew were rowing; more hard-eyed crew members walked among them. They were armored, with chainmail tunics covered with blue surcoats. Their shoulders were covered in plates and tassels and their silver helmets flickered in the sunlight. Some had crossbows; some had long spears. Upon seeing the weapons, Martin paled and backed up slowly.

  “Relax.” Leo placed a hand on his shoulder. “If they wanted to attack us, we’d be dead before we even knew they were here.”

  Martin nodded. Leo heard a command on the ship in the Benelim tongue. The vessel slowed to a stop right before them. A Benelim, more decorated than the others, walked over to the side. Glowing white streaks glided through his scaled armor and a green cape trailed down his shoulders. His helmet was open more at the sides to make room for what Leo could now see were antlers, like a deer. His eyes glowed faintly white as he eyed the two men curiously.

  The two parties stared at each other. Neither one knew what to say or do. Martin decided to speak first. He attempted a greeting in the Benelim tongue. His pronunciation was far from perfect, and the crew laughed at him.

  “Do not trouble yourself, Signore,” the Benelim commander began. “I can speak your tongue.”

  Martin bowed and said, “Thank you.”

  “What are you doing here on these waters?” asked the commander.

  “We’ve always come here,” answered Leo. “This has been a place of calm and solace amongst us and our friends. It has been ever since we were kids.”

  “These rivers are to be guarded by the navy of Regnum Nemus Aureis, or as you call us, the Realm of the Golden Wood. We have never seen humans here before.”

  “The feeling is mutual; we’ve never seen Benelim on these waters until now,” said Leo.

  “I mean no disrespect,” Martin began, “but isn’t your realm too far northwest for this to be under your jurisdiction?”

  “It wasn’t always, but we’ve dealt with Maelim attacking our realm through these very same rivers. Sneaking through your realms to attack my people from an unexpected quarter. As a result, such actions must be taken. Signore Alessandro of Raveno gave us his blessing.”

  “That is most unfortunate,” said Leo. Would they drive them away? As far as Leo was concerned, they were there first.

  “Don’t worry. This place is yours; we are merely visiting. I don’t recommend you stay here, however. These lands are getting dangerous.”

  “We appreciate your concern, but we are content to stay,” said Martin.

  “As you wish. Let’s just be sure we do not get in each other’s way.”

  “Indeed,” said Leo. “What is your name, if I may ask?”

  “My name is Petro Fertur Aquis. You can call me Petro.”

  “I am Leo.” He pointed to his friend. “This is Martin. We come from Tressviae.”

  Petro smiled. “Ah, I know the place well; I have kin who undergo dealings there.” His eyes stared acutely at Leo. “Perhaps we will meet again. But for now, we must be on our way. Farewell, and may the God’s favor be upon you.”

  “And with you,” Said Leo.

  With another command in their tongue, the ship moved forward. In time, it rowed down the stream until it was barely in sight. Leo scowled at the vessel before he and Martin exited the river and packed up their fish. They’d get a reasonable price on the market, no doubt.

  Leo did not know what bugged him more, the fact that their refuge now had neighbors, or that Maelim had started coming there. Change was inevitable; the excursion already felt emptier without Gio, but this was pushing it. The commander seemed amicable despite the intrusion. At least a Benelim could be reasoned with.

  “Maelim,” Martin spat. “How contemptible of them. Is nothing sacred anymore?”

  “Nothing ever was to them.”

  …………………..

  The two men slowly approached town, the gatehouse coming into view. Leo had to ride slowly lest his wares fall off the saddle.

  “So, are you going to the celebration tonight?” asked Leo.

  “I am,” replied Martin. “More so for you than for Adam. Who wants to hear that story again for the umpteenth time.”

  “Oh, come now, it’s tradition.”

  “More like repetition.”

  “Are you really telling me that you wouldn’t want the story of your life to be told over and over centuries after you died?”

  “That’s fair,” Martin chuckled. “I just don’t care for the stories of Godshards.”

  “Don’t let anybody hear that when you’re there.”

  “I’ll be fine; I know when to keep my mouth shut.”

  As they got closer, they could see the guards deployed there. Leo saw who it was, and his heart stopped.

  She was there.

  Leo couldn’t tell at first. Her black and white uniform covered most of her pale skin, and her barbute covered her long red hair, but Leo would recognize those pale blue eyes anywhere.

  Martin quickly took notice. “That’s her, isn’t it? Elizabeth, was it? Will she give us any trouble?”

  “Don’t know; we didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Martin frowned. “But she might stir something anyways.”

  “Go ahead of me; better I get hassled than the both of us. I’ll see you at the celebration.”

  “Alright, if you insist. See you then.”

  With that, Martin rode ahead, his fish and books bouncing on the saddle blankets, nearly falling off as he trotted toward the gatehouse.

  Elizabeth wasn’t the only guard. A taller, stockier woman was with her. She was big, dwarfing her already short partner, and had a patch covering her left eye. Her brown hair was tied into a short side ponytail, and her demeanor was gruff and impersonal. Ah, Angela. The capitana herself. Poor Martin was shaking as the two of them talked.

  Elizabeth, on the other hand, was looking right at him. Leo grumbled. This was definitely going to be unpleasant. At least Martin could get past Angela as he watched his shivering form enter.

  As he approached, Elizabeth held up a gloved hand, keeping eye contact all the while. Twin pools of blue ice waited expectedly as he stopped as ordered. Elizabeth walked up to him. She said nothing at first, looking him over and to his saddle blanket where he held his catches.

  “Afternoon, Leo,” she spat, venom on her lips. Her voice was heavily accented, and her Cradlen tongue rough.

  Leo sighed. “Hi, Elizabeth.”

  She pointed behind her. “Same as Martin, I presume?”

  “Yep.”

  The two of them stared at each other. Leo hoped she would just let him pass, and the two could go on their merry ways. Her glare was cold and unbroken. “I heard your guardia is having their victory celebration tonight.”

  “Indeed. As well as the celebration of Adam.”

  “It would be a shame if one of their esteemed capitani, a man who cared so much about his career, so much that he even chose it over the people he loved, was unable to attend due to being stuck outside the city or locked up in the stockade.” Leo’s heart sank. Was she seriously going to go there, now, of all times?

  “Now is not the time to talk about this. Just let me through, and we can talk about this later, or just go our separate ways.”

  A few seconds passed. Angela walked over to them. “Everything alright?” Her voice was deep and coarse. She did a double take upon seeing who Elizabeth was talking to. Her eyes narrowed, and her hand tightly gripped her guisarme. “Should we bring him in?”

  Evidently, Elizabeth made some new friends. Great. He didn’t have time for this. “Angela, this doesn’t concern you.”

  Angela’s eyes narrowed. “I know what happened. You hurt my friend.”

  Leo sighed. “I just want to get through. I’ve done nothing wrong here; you have no reason to lock me up.”

  “It would be payback for me.” Elizabeth gave a cruel smirk. “Humiliation for you.”

  “It’s been a year, Liz!” snapped Leo. “Do you really want to explain to Padre Angelos why one of the capitani wasn’t present? Especially if it’s due to something that happened a year ago?”

  “He wouldn’t know. We could tell him whatever we wanted.”

  “You know he’d see right through it. He’s a Godshard.” Leo pressed his horse forward a couple of steps. Her smug grin faded. “It would be a dreadful look for you. Hate me for what happened all you want, but locking me up hurts you more than it hurts me. Don’t be stupid.”

  Elizabeth shared a glance with Angela. They were silent for a moment. Leo tried to hide it, but he was pretty nervous. He wasn’t wrong, and they knew it, but it would still be problematic if they took him in. Her tomorrow would be bad, but it would still ruin his night. After what felt like an eternity, they sighed in defeat.

  “Proceed,” Elizabeth said, pointing her weapon at the gate. Leo quickly complied, moving his horse forward.

  Leo took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. He looked back over his shoulder to see Elizabeth still watching him as he passed the other side of the gate. It stung to see how things had changed. He may not regret ending their relationship, but seeing her still reeling from it hurt. He hoped that one day she’d be able to move on, but he doubted she’d ever fully let it go. It wasn’t in her nature.