“Yes,” Haymi replied. “Seems they dug too deep and opened a network of tunnels lost to time. Rumors say it’s a relic from the Age of Gods.”
Vir immediately thought of the Prana Swarm. “Is that true?”
“Who can say?” Haymi replied. “The monsters bursting forth from there certainly lends credence to that theory, though they seem to be on the lower end of the Ash Beast strength scale.”
“Everyone’s talking about it,” Tia said. “They’ll be offering rewards per animal killed. If we can take out a half dozen… well, none of us will be worrying about money for some time to come. Not to mention we’ll be swimming in Brotherhood karma. They’re offering a lot for this one.”
It wasn’t the money that interested Vir as much as the karma. With it, he’d be able to ask the deep questions about the Pagan Order.
“So!” Tia said, clapping her hands together. “We may not officially be a party yet, but seeing as how we’re bound for the same destination, I think we oughta work together, don’t you? As traveling buddies.”
Vir chuckled. The blonde party leader was dead set on being his friend, and Vir had no reason to refuse.
For the first time in a very long time, Vir began to look forward to traveling.
Vir was proven right. He’d never expected it, but even such mundane tasks as procuring supplies were so much better with a friend. In many ways, Tia reminded Vir of Maiya. They both had that headstrong, confident attitude, yet neither was overbearing. The freckled blonde felt like a slightly rowdy elder sister to him. Someone who’d support you when you fell, but was equally at home chatting and relaxing. Or arm wrestling—she’d entered a competition at Eshana, pulling the rest of her party into it.
Including Vir. He lost, electing not to use Empower, but so did she. Only Vason won anything, leaving them a couple of coppers less wealthy.
Vir hardly noticed it. All he remembered were the riotous laughter and the cheering. The claps on the back when he failed. Without realizing it, a grin had crept up on his face, and he was just a little too late wiping it off. The ever-observant Tia saw his grin and smiled.
Things really are better with friends, eh Maiya?
They headed out the next morning at dawn. While the trip to Eshana was slow and arduous, the rest of the journey, despite traversing well maintained roads, was long. Eleven hundred miles long.
At a fifteen-mile-an-hour trot, the journey would take just over a week, sending them east across the Eternal Plains before veering south onto the Avian highway. They passed wagons, caravans, and even some Ranian patrols.
At first, Vir felt more like an outsider. The party did their best to include him in conversation, but he simply missed too many of the jokes and references to really get into things.
That changed after about six hours of conversing. Though the Legion Mountains made for beautiful scenery, their companion to the east on their long journey south, mountains didn’t make for great conversation partners.
The four chatted about everything under the sun, from clothing and armor preferences to favorite colors to politics, and they even played icebreaker ‘get to know you’ games. Vir nearly did a double take when Haymi entered the conversation in force.
“She does that,” Vason had said. “She’s a bit shy, but get to know her and that mouth of hers doesn’t ever—o-oh, that’s quite enough.” Haymi’s death stare was enough to silence even a grown man.
The hours flitted by in no time, and soon it was dusk.
Now they were huddled around a large campfire. The fire had gone up quickly, with Vason, Vir, and Neel fetching standing dead wood and Tia and Haymi tending to the camp. They even pitched Vir’s tent for him.
Only then did Vir realize how much more effort he’d been wasting doing everything himself. Making and breaking camp went many times faster with three other sets of hands to help.
And it wasn’t just that. The company turned what would’ve been endlessly boring hours into an enjoyable blur. Monotony became joy.
“Alright, Param. Your turn,” Tia said, passing her knife to him—a symbolic gesture. Their latest game had them hold the knife and say two falsehoods, mixed in with one truth. Each person would take their turn guessing the truth, and the one who got it right got the knife. If there were two winners, the knife holder would go again, but this time only the participants who guessed correctly could guess.
“Let’s see,” Vir said, contemplating. “I grew up in a poor city. My best friend has flaming red hair, and I was close with my mother.”
“Oof, that’s a tough one,” said Vason, scratching his head. “Growing up in a poor city… I honestly can’t tell. Red hair isn’t especially common, but that one’s oddly specific. Then again, what son isn’t close to their mother? Hmm.”
“He doesn’t strike me as a city dweller,” Haymi said, peering deeply into Vir’s eyes. “He hides it well, but his mannerisms strike me more as someone who emigrated to the city. And recently at that. Rough around the edges? A bit too straightforward? Something like that.”
Vir forced himself to remain neutral. After losing handily for a few rounds, he’d realized they were reading his reactions. Sometimes they’d even make a provocative statement just to get him to react a certain way.
So he did what he was best at—he learned.
“Tch,” Haymi said. “You’re getting good at this, Param.”
Vir felt guilty about hiding his real name, but for now, it’d be more awkward to correct them, so he left things as is.
“You never knew your mother, did you?” Tia said, staring into the fire.
That got a reaction out of Vir, despite his best effort. “What makes you say that?”
“I’ve encountered a lot of orphans in my time. As a Matali, it’s kinda unavoidable. They have certain quirks, I’ve noticed. They’re all self-sufficient. Guess they had to be, so that one’s pretty obvious. And they’re all distrusting. They only open up after a long time, if they ever do. You’re not that extreme, but I sense tragedy in your upbringing.”
Vir fell silent for a moment before clearing his throat. “So? Guesses?”
“Red-haired friend,” Vason said confidently. “Tia’s got an incredible nose for this kind of thing. I trust her instinct.”
“Hmm. I have to agree,” said Haymi. “The redhead is the truth here.”
Tia flashed Vir a grin. “Sorry. I’m going with that too.”
Vir threw his hands up. “Yes, yes. My best friend’s a redhead.”
“What’s she like?” Tia asked.
Vir narrowed his eyes. Whether she deduced Maiya’s gender from their earlier conversation at Zorin, or whether this was again her incredible intuition, he had to appreciate how sharp she was.
“She’s… actually a lot like you. One year older than me, she used to protect me from the bullies in the village.”
“Ha! So you did grow up in a village,” Haymi said proudly.
“I did. Maiya was… well, she was pretty much my only friend, apart from Neel over here.”
The bandy perked up at hearing his name. He looked up at everyone, pleading with his big eyes for food that wasn’t going to come.
Vir rubbed the bandy’s back, which seemed to placate him.
“She was as stubborn as the Ash and obsessed with Fire magic despite having no aptitude for it. I feel like the best way to get her to do something is to tell her she can’t do it. Works every time. She used to—” Vir stopped, suddenly realizing he was rambling. “Uh, sorry. Got a little carried away there.”
“You miss her, don’t you?” Tia murmured.
“I do. Just wish I knew if she was safe. Never thought it’d bother me so much, but… well, time apart makes you realize some things.”
“Like how you’re maybe more than just best friends?” Haymi asked, a glint in her eyes.