Raffin was the first traveler Asdras and Brian encountered. His mannerisms were an intriguing mix of customs from distant lands, and he spoke with a cadence that seamlessly blended languages, much like the winds whispering through evergreen trees. A true nomad, he possessed extensive knowledge in various fields, including psychology, storytelling, geology, botany, and hunting.
As they trekked along the snow-covered path, the crunch of their footsteps punctuating the silence, Raffin's tales served as a beacon, his voice weaving warmth through the cold air.
The horse trudged onward, its hooves crunching the snowpack, while the wagon creaked like an old man settling into his favorite chair, resonating with its owner's stories.
Asdras listened intently, eager to glean wisdom from Raffin's stories. His eyes, sharp as blades, absorbed every detail and nuance of his words.
Brian, in contrast, was a bundle of pure enthusiasm. His eyes sparkled with each twist in the narrative, his infectious energy fueling their journey. To him, Raffin's stories were hidden treasures, each a thrilling adventure waiting to unfold.
Their excitement sparked when Asdras asked Raffin what it was like to be a deliverer.
Raffin gave him a thoughtful look. "Have you ever known a hunter?"
"I've heard rumors," Asdras said, shaking his head. "Stories about their missions, fighting beasts, and such."
Raffin dismissed the notion with a wave. "No, kid. I mean real hunters, not the ones constantly flirting with death just to make a living."
"What's the difference, then?" Brian asked, tilting his head and scratching his arms.
"Scale!"
"Scale?"
"Beasts, so massive they make these trees look like twigs," Raffin said, stretching his arms wide as if to embrace the road. "Dangerous places that could kill you just for breathing. Encounters so strange, you'd rather end it all for peace. That's what real hunters face."
Raffin paused, listening to their whispers. "But the real battle is, the more you see and hear as a hunter, the more you want to leave. At least, that's what my cousin told me."
"Your cousin is a hunter?"
"No," Raffin chuckled. "But he swore he knew what a hunter is. In truth, in this region, it's rare to see one. You could count the number of winters and falls on your hands and still never spot a hunter."
"Why?" Brian asked, taking an apple from a nearby basket.
"This region," Raffin paused, letting the wind underscore his point, "is as tame as a summer garden."
"Safe?" Asdras's voice carried a hint of doubt. "Even with those beasts in the forests?"
"Ah," Raffin smiled. "No offense, but if you guys can fight one or two, what's the use of a hunter here? True, this region might have ranked beasts, but none worth risking a life for a reward. And even if it were a rank two, I believe I could handle it."
"Back to your question," Raffin said, taking a deep breath. "Deliverers, my boy, are hunters of a softer world — our beasts are the elements, our quests are the well-traveled roads, and if we're lucky, we grow old with tales taller than the trees. It sounds good to me, and that's why I'm here."
Brian seized the opportunity to ask, "And what about the awakening? You've been through it, haven't you?"
"Well, like hunters and deliverers," Raffin shrugged. "Awakening isn't as glamorous as you might think. It has its magic, sure, but the deeper you go, the less likely you are to even get married."
"And how is it?" Asdras asked thoughtfully, taking another apple. "I mean, to be awake."
"No tales for that, boy. There's a rule against telling anyone about the awakening process before they experience it."
Raffin gave a tired smile. "Think of it like this; do you like milk?"
"Milk? Maybe."
"I love warm, fresh milk!"
"Then, if I offer you a cup and tell you it will taste so sour that even bitter melon would be better, will it still taste the same?"
"Hmmm." Asdras nodded. "So, you're saying that talking about your experience would make ours worse?"
"Yes," Raffin began, then paused and corrected himself. "Well, actually, it could go either way. Awakening is about how you see yourself and the world around you. If I start talking about my vision, you might spend more time looking for what I mentioned instead of discovering your own. Do you get it?"
"I guess I do!"
"And what 'bout yer own power?"
"You have an appetite for questions as insatiable as a wolf for the hunt," Raffin teased, his gaze meeting the stars with shared wanderlust. "Well, it's nothing special. I never advanced realm, so my power is night vision from the dark element."
"Well, that's something! How does it feel to see in the dark?"
"As clear as day, even better, and it makes the night more welcoming," Raffin said, guiding his horse to a corner.
"And what about advancing in the realm?"
"No, the night is upon us, and my stomach yearns for sustenance," Raffin said tiredly. "So, for another day, boys. Another day."
As the sun set, its final rays bathed the landscape in a purple glow, illuminating the snow as they set up camp under the roadside trees.
From their wagon, they extracted the essentials for shelter: a canvas camp bed, stiff and weather-beaten from the cold; wooden poles faintly scented of resin; and ropes, rigid and heavy like frozen snakes.
Efficiently, they raised the canvas, which fluttered in the cool breeze as they fastened it to the poles and anchored it securely into the frosty ground.
Meanwhile, Asdras took charge of building the bonfire. He gathered dry twigs, brittle leaves, and small branches, arranging them carefully into a tepee-like structure.
With a practiced hand, he struck flint and steel together, coaxing sparks that soon ignited the kindling. Flames danced to life, casting a pale, flickering light that painted the surroundings with an otherworldly glow.
As night fell, the trio gathered around the fire, finding solace in its warmth against the cold air. Shadows flickered across their tent, cast by the firelight, while the surrounding forest buzzed with nocturnal wildlife sounds.
Smoke from the fire spiraled upward, intertwining with the night air as if ancient spirits were weaving through the darkness, tracing tales in the starlit sky.
"Boys, I think we need something..."
"Check the surroundings?"
"More tales, ya?
Raffin, swaying slightly, gestured toward the bonfire. "We need to get some food in us, lads. This area's pretty safe because they've got some fancy protection under the main roads. But stories won't fill our bellies. We need some real sustenance, some meat, and I don't have any in my wagon, so..."
He stretched his arms before grinning at the boys. "If you guys catch some meat for us, I'll tell a story later."
"And," Raffin added before they could reply, "if you catch some rabbits, I'll share a secret about Joe. Sounds like a fair deal, doesn't it?"
"Oh, that's gonna be interesting! Come on, friend," Brian said, turning to Asdras. "Let's see who catches one first!"
"Why rabbits?"
"The right herbs, my lad, the right herbs," Raffin said, recalling the taste. "Rosemary. Bay leaves. Use them right, and you'll remember that flavor for a lifetime!"
As darkness enveloped the forest, Asdras and Brian hastened to a promising hunting ground, each driven by different motivations. Asdras was drawn by the thrill of the hunt and the lure of hidden stories, while Brian was determined to win their friendly competition.
Asdras navigated through the underbrush, his senses finely tuned to the natural world around him. He breathed slowly, minimizing his presence, keenly aware of every rustle of leaves and every earthy scent that might signal prey.
Brian, embodying the patience of an aspiring hunter, meticulously surveyed their surroundings. His gaze was sharp, searching the terrain for animal tracks, and his ears were attuned to the faintest noises that might betray the presence of game.
Out of the corner of his eye, Brian noticed a flicker of movement. His heartbeat quickened as he spotted a rabbit darting across the snowy landscape. With reflexive speed, he gave chase, spear poised and ready, his body taut with the thrill of the hunt.
While Brian chased his quarry, Asdras detected movement in the underbrush. Relying on his instincts, he executed a flawless ambush. In one fluid motion, he captured a rabbit, his movements precise and lethal. Holding his catch triumphantly, a sense of accomplishment filled him.
Asdras's triumph was abruptly interrupted by Brian's voice slicing through the air. With a surge of concern, Asdras pivoted and sprinted toward the source of the call.
In a small clearing, he found Brian standing over a fallen man. The middle-aged merchant had an exotic presence, complete with a pronounced mustache and attire suggesting origins from a distant culture.
Asdras and Brian quickly moved to the merchant's aid, urgency driving their actions. Asdras balanced the rabbit in one hand while helping lift the merchant with the other. Together, they shouldered the man's weight and transported him back to their campsite, their minds swirling with anxiety and curiosity.
As they approached the tent, Raffin's initial excitement at seeing the rabbit turned to concern upon seeing the unconscious stranger. Raffin's expression grew serious, his eyebrows knitting together as he knelt to assess the merchant's condition. "Who is he?"
"I don't know," Brian replied, helping Asdras place the man closer to the fire. "I found him while chasing a rabbit. Is he alive?"
"He should be," Raffin said, examining the body. "He's still breathing, and his temperature is normal."
"He looks like a merchant," Asdras said, pointing at the man's clothes. "I've seen something like this in the city."
"A merchant, indeed," Raffin replied matter-of-factly. "Well done, kids. You've got yourselves a proper tale now, one to spin in the taverns. Rescuing a merchant and hitting the jackpot."
"Now, more importantly," Raffin said, examining the fat rabbit. "Right now, I care more about it than some unfortunate man. Before a candle burns to its holder, this beauty will be our finest company for the night."
With a practiced hand, Raffin set to work preparing the rabbit. He carefully seasoned it with fragrant herbs, their aromas mingling in the evening air. His knife sliced through the meat effortlessly, skillfully portioning it into manageable pieces.
Nearby, the stewpot awaited its contents, perched over the campfire, bubbling and simmering in rhythm with Raffin's movements.
As the savory scent wafted around the camp, Asdras and Brian could hardly contain their hunger. Their stomachs rumbled in unison, but their concern for the unconscious man tempered their appetite.
In the dying light of the campfire, the tantalizing aroma of the finished dish filled the air. At that moment, as the bubbling stewpot held its savory secret, a subtle shift in the atmosphere caught their attention.
The unconscious man stirred, his senses awakening to the irresistible scent of a hearty meal. "Meat? Rabbit? Rabbit with rosemary and potatoes? Is this heaven?"