The caravan rattled along the winding dirt road under a warm morning sun, the air alive with the faint chirping of distant birds. Kalem walked alongside his cart, occasionally exchanging idle chatter with Teren, who rode a sturdy horse near the head of the caravan.
"And then," Kalem continued, gesturing animatedly, "she just looked at me and said, 'Good luck.' As if she knew exactly what I was thinking."
Teren chuckled, adjusting his wide-brimmed hat against the glare of the sun. "That sounds like magic, alright. Mind-reading is one of those things that either impresses you or unsettles you. Could've been some kind of innate ability. Moonfolk are known for having tricks like that."
Kalem furrowed his brow. "So it's common?"
"Not common, no," Teren replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "But not unheard of, either. Magic like that—it's not just about power, you see. It's subtle, like a spider's web. Either it helps you weave something extraordinary, or it catches you in a trap you can't escape. Useful, sure, but not the kind of thing most folk want to be on the receiving end of."
Kalem mulled over Teren's words, his mind turning to Seris. She had seemed more amused than threatening, but the idea that someone could peek into his thoughts unsettled him. He made a mental note to read up on mental magic when he got the chance.
The caravan pressed onward, the landscape shifting from dense woodland to rolling hills dotted with wildflowers. The road grew quieter, and Kalem found himself reflecting on his time with the group.
A few days later, the caravan reached a fork in the road. Teren pulled his horse to a stop and turned to Kalem, his face marked with the weariness of a seasoned traveler.
"This is where we part ways, lad," Teren said, gesturing to the path branching westward. "We're heading to the coast. You'll want to keep heading north if you're bound for Arcathis."
Kalem nodded, his grip tightening on the reins of his cart. He had known this moment was coming, but the thought of continuing alone brought a pang of apprehension.
"You've been good company," Teren said, offering his hand. "And you've got the skills to make your mark out there. Just remember, the road's not always kind. Keep your wits about you, and don't be afraid to lean on the people you meet. Even strangers can surprise you."
Kalem shook his hand firmly. "Thank you, Teren. For everything."
With a wave and a parting smile, the caravan trundled off, leaving Kalem at the crossroads. He watched them disappear over the horizon, the sound of their wheels and chatter fading into the wind.
Kalem sighed as he turned to his cart and the massive black bull tethered to it. The animal stared at him with its deep, placid eyes, chewing idly on the remains of some grass it had snagged earlier.
"Looks like it's just us now, big guy," Kalem said, running a hand over the bull's thick black fur. It let out a low snort in response, shaking its head.
He chuckled and scratched behind its ears. "You know, you're surprisingly quiet for something your size. I was expecting more... stomping and snorting. Vornar really didn't tell me much about you."
The bull blinked slowly, as if unbothered by Kalem's musings. It gave another snort, almost as if agreeing that Vornar's instructions had been vague.
"Right," Kalem muttered, glancing at the northern road. "Well, I guess we'd better get moving. Can't stay here forever."
He climbed into the cart and gave the reins a light flick. The bull began to lumber forward with surprising ease, its massive hooves barely making a sound on the dirt road.
The next few hours passed in quiet solitude, the rhythmic creak of the cart and the steady plod of the bull providing a calming backdrop. Kalem found himself talking to the animal more than he expected.
"So, do you have a name?" he asked, glancing at the bull. "Vornar never mentioned one. Maybe I should give you one."
The bull huffed, its breath visible in the cooler air of the shaded forest path.
"Let's see," Kalem said thoughtfully. "Something strong. How about... Boulder? No, too obvious. Thunder? Hmm, not quite right."
The bull shook its head, almost as if dismissing the suggestions.
"Alright, alright," Kalem said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I'll think about it. Don't rush me."
As the day wore on, Kalem felt a growing sense of companionship with the bull. It wasn't just its size or strength that impressed him—it was the quiet reliability, the calm presence that seemed to steady his own nerves.
"Y'know," Kalem said as they paused by a stream to let the bull drink, "you might be the best traveling partner I've had so far. Don't let it go to your head, though."
The bull dipped its massive head into the water, drinking deeply before letting out a satisfied grunt. Kalem smiled and leaned back against a tree, the sound of the flowing stream and the rustling leaves lulling him into a rare moment of peace.
For the first time since leaving the Peak of Ash and Fire, Kalem felt a glimmer of excitement. The road ahead was uncertain, but he wasn't entirely alone. With his cart, his tools, and his stalwart companion, he felt ready to face whatever lay ahead.
As they resumed their journey, Kalem glanced back at the bull with a smirk. "Alright, big guy. How about 'Onyx'? Strong, dependable, and it suits your color."
The bull let out a low, approving rumble, and Kalem laughed. "Onyx it is, then."
With a renewed sense of purpose, Kalem and Onyx pressed onward, the northern road stretching endlessly before them.