Sword

Child of Starlight: I.3 – P.4: Walking Death P.2

Jacobus turned around to the empty clearing now only littered with possessions and the few corpses. “Grim though it may seem, it would be a shame to leave it all. They may come back and re-arm themselves.”

Aliene handed him his pack and nodded as the two began collecting up the supplies. Jacobus dressed, adding the Schillian armor and sword, as well as a pair of heavy boots from a pile. Aliene found a purple tunic without sleeves as well. She took a recurve bow, testing the draw; satisfied, she smiled. The two picked up as much as they could and began walking, never catching sight of the other bandits.

Within an hour, the two reached a large road made from smooth stone. It stretched far into the distance in either direction. The Fuschian Road, as it was called, became a bridge of equal splendor reaching over the river they had been following. Aliene knelt down, rubbing her hand over the stone. “So this is the great pathway carved by an old Divine Mage.”

“It is the safest way to travel; some think that the magic the Divine used lingers. This keeps the beasts at bay to a degree,” Jacobus said, looking around along the tree line.

“You think magic could last that long? It was hundreds of years ago.” Aliene rose as she asked the question.

Jacobus inhales loudly. “Lesser intentions can persist; magic of such magnitude could as well. Every action ripples out regardless of origin.” The monk began smiling as he pointed down the road at a growing form on the horizon.

“A trade caravan.” Aliene guessed as she shaded her eyes with her hand.

“A prime target for that group of bandits; taken by surprise at night, they would be easy prey.” Jacobus adjusted his pack as he said, “It is good to see that our actions have a pleasant impact for others.”

Aliene smiled softly as she started walking towards the caravan. “The new stuff doesn’t hurt either.” They both laughed a little.

By the time they arrived at the caravan, it had veered from the road onto the grounds of an old waycastle. The two-dozen manor-carts had built a small village around the old stone building. Aliene took in the many voices, the sights of craftsmen working, and the smells that ranged from a pleasant scent of baking to the sour aroma of exhausted people.