Chapter 70: Road Days
The road from Sareth to Halloch passed without incident.
Nathan drove the cart with the calm of someone who’d come to appreciate combat-free stretches. The landscape changed gradually. The dense southern forests gave way to gentle hills with open fields. The air grew colder. The first signs of autumn began to appear in the leaves of the trees along the roadside.
Liaraen read a small book on the driver’s seat. A different one from what Nathan had seen her reading at the start of the journey. This one was thicker, with a dark leather cover and no visible title on the spine. She turned pages with the slowness of someone taking mental notes while reading.
Nathan glanced at her approximately every half hour.
After the third time he looked without commenting, Liaraen spoke without looking up from her book.
"Nathan."
"Yes?"
"You can ask."
"Ask what?"
"What I’m reading. You’ve been looking at the book every half hour for two hours."
"I’m not looking at the book. I’m driving."
"Nathan."
"Fine. What are you reading?"
Liaraen lowered the book to her lap with the naturalness of someone who’d been waiting for the question.
"It’s an elven treatise on divine transitions."
"About what?"
"Divine transitions. The moments in the continent’s history where the Pantheon underwent changes. The reorganization of the primary cycles. The elimination of the seventeenth. The appearance of hybrid Seals like the twins’. Everything that technically isn’t taught in official aristocratic instruction but that House Vaelinor has documented for generations."
"How do you have it?"
"Vera gave it to me before we left. It’s a copy. The original is in Sareth’s library. Vera says it probably contains information I’m going to need to process after what happened with Sella and Kalen."
"I see."
Nathan kept driving.
"Sprout."
"Yes?"
"What have you learned so far?"
Liaraen thought for a moment.
"Apparently the official catalog is considerably incomplete. The Church has removed, hidden, or modified important documents over the last thousand years. And the line between official and unofficial gods is blurrier than what’s taught."
"Examples?"
"The text argues that two of the sixteen official Pantheon gods are actually fragmented manifestations of primary cycle gods, not independent gods. If that’s true, there are fewer than sixteen real gods."
"Which two?"
"It doesn’t say explicitly. Only gives technical clues. I’m trying to deduce them."
"And?"
"I suspect one is Draken. The signature you described from the extraction team doesn’t completely match the canonical documented signature. It could be because Draken is actually a minor manifestation of a primary cycle god, not an independent god."
"Sprout."
"Yes?"
"I’m officially lost in this conversation."
"Apparently."
"Yes."
Liaraen smiled slightly.
"It doesn’t matter. I’ll tell you as we go. It’ll be useful for you to have context on the categories of Seals you might encounter on the continent. Selene will appreciate you arriving in Greywall with this information already processed."
"Acceptable."
They continued.
---
They arrived at Halloch at dusk.
The settlement was the smallest they’d visited so far. Approximately twenty people. Eight houses distributed around a small fountain. No formal communal house. A central building that apparently served as kitchen, meeting room, and guest lodging all at once.
The coordinator’s name was Renric. An older man, approximately sixty, with a short white beard and ink-stained hands suggesting he spent more time writing than working the land. He received Selene’s letter with a brief nod. He led them to the central building. Assigned them a room with two separate beds and a small window.
"Dinner in an hour," Renric said. "Rest."
He withdrew.
Nathan dropped the bags on the floor. Sat on the edge of the bed. Ran a hand over his face.
"Sprout."
"Yes?"
This is good."
"What’s good?"
"This settlement. Renric. The room. Everything. It’s just good. No drama. No revelations. Nothing complicated."
"Apparently you appreciate it."
"Of course I do."
Liaraen sat on the edge of her own bed.
"After Sareth, we needed a place without complications."
"Yes."
Silence.
Then Nathan spoke.
"Sprout."
"Yes?"
"Kalen told Sella something about the two of us."
Liaraen looked up.
"Yes?"
"In two years, when I return to Sareth, apparently Sella and I are going to establish a different relationship from that of adventure companions."
Liaraen processed that for a moment.
Her posture shifted slightly. Not dramatically. Just a small adjustment in her shoulders. A small repositioning of her hands on her lap.
"I see."
"I don’t know the details. Kalen wouldn’t give them to me. He said it was information Sella had to discover on her own."
"I see."
"And Sella partly stayed for that specific future."
"I see."
Nathan looked at her.
"Sprout."
"Yes?"
"I’m telling you because I promised to tell you. Not because I want to change anything about the current dynamic."
Liaraen looked at him for a full moment.
Then, with a calm voice:
"Nathan. I appreciate you telling me. And I appreciate the clarification. And in two years, you’ll also be a free man without worries, since you won’t have to carry my presence."
"Acceptable."
"Acceptable."
Silence.
Then Liaraen lay back on the bed.
"Nathan."
"Yes?"
"I’m tired."
"I imagine."
"We’re going to sleep a lot tonight."
"Acceptable."
They had dinner with Renric about an hour later. Simple soup with bread. No big conversation. Renric spoke little. Nathan and Liaraen did too.
Then they went upstairs to the room.
They fell asleep in less than ten minutes.
And slept approximately ten hours.
---
*Day 32 since Nathan obtained his Class*
They left Halloch at midday.
Renric said goodbye with the same economy of words with which he’d received them. A brief hand gesture. A nod. Nothing more.
The cart started moving.
The road continued north. The landscape grew more rugged. The gentle hills gave way to rockier terrain. The trees changed to cold-hardier species. And on the horizon, for the first time, Nathan saw the distant silhouette of the mountains that marked the border with Aelthoren.
Liaraen pointed at them.
"There," she said. "Those are the Threshold Mountains. They mark the geographic border. After the pass, we enter Aelthoren."
"How long until the pass?"
"Approximately two days. One to Rendel. Another for the crossing."
"Acceptable."
Nathan looked at the mountains.
They were far. But visible. And the specific feeling that the journey was reaching its final stage materialized for the first time.
*Almost.*
*We’ve almost arrived.*
They continued through the afternoon.
At sunset, they found a wide clearing beside the road with a small nearby stream. Nathan assessed it with Soul Sense. No threatening presences within approximately two hundred meters. The clearing was safe.
"We camp here," Nathan said.
"Acceptable."
They parked the cart. Nathan untied the chestnut horse and let it graze near the stream. Liaraen set up the tent with the efficiency she’d developed during the journey. Nathan prepared the campfire.
They ate bread and aged cheese. The last remaining from Sareth’s provisions.
Then Nathan lay back near the campfire with his hands behind his head. Looked at the sky.
The stars were considerably brighter than in the city. No artificial light interference. No factory smoke. Just their small campfire, and the open sky over the clearing.
Nathan watched for a long time.
"Sprout."
"Yes?"
"I’m going to do something tomorrow."
"What?"
"I’m going to train."
Liaraen looked at him.
"Train?"
"Yes. Before we reach Rendel. Before we cross into Aelthoren. I want to calmly test my skills. Without combat. Without urgency. Just to know exactly what I have and what I’m missing."
"I think that’s a good idea."
"And I want you to help me."
Liaraen sat on the blanket beside him.
"Me?"
"Yes. I need someone who can observe and give me technical feedback. You have formal instruction in magical cataloging. You can watch me apply each skill and tell me if I’m using eighty percent, sixty percent, or one hundred percent of the potential effect."
"Understood."
"Acceptable."
"Acceptable."
Silence.
Then Liaraen spoke, with a different voice.
"Nathan."
"Yes?"
"Can I learn from you too?"
Nathan turned his head to look at her.
"Learn what?"
"Something. Anything. The basic techniques of human combat. The practical application of minor magic. The way you assess threats with Soul Sense. Anything you can pass on to me during the process of your training."
Nathan looked at her for a moment.
Then he laughed softly.
"Sprout."
"Yes?"
"It’s not that I can teach you much."
"Why?"
"Because I’ve had the Seal for exactly thirty days. And I know how to use Soul Reap, Soul Pulse, Soul Sense, Death’s Domain, and Pale Rider partially. And Tactile Entropy, which I learned on the fly when I freed you from the box. That’s all. I have no formal training. I don’t have decades of practice. I have thirty days, and now that I think about it, it’s not even like I’ve had real physical combat."
Liaraen sat processing that for a few seconds.
Then she spoke.
"Nathan."
"Yes?"
"Apparently you know how to do with those skills in thirty days what most official Pantheon bearers don’t learn in two years."
"Well, I have to—after all, it’s an SSS Class."
"Then you have more than enough to teach me something."
"Acceptable."
"Teach me the basics. Tomorrow. While you train. I’ll learn up close."
"Acceptable."
Silence.
Nathan looked at the sky again.
"Sprout."
"Yes?"
"Thirty days."
"Yes."
"Two months ago, I was carrying boxes in a warehouse and didn’t have a Seal. Thirty days ago, I didn’t know you. Thirty days ago, I thought life was exactly what it would always be."
"Yes."
"Apparently that was a bad estimate."
"Apparently."
"Yes."
Silence.
They continued watching the stars for a long time before retreating to the tent.
And around midnight, when the campfire had reduced to embers, Nathan closed his eyes with the calm feeling of someone who had finally accepted that the life he was living—with all its structural absurdity—was the one he’d chosen to have.
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