The sun hung high in the sky, casting golden rays over the rolling hills and distant forests. Kalem and Onyx continued their journey at a steady pace, the cart rattling gently as it moved along the uneven dirt road. The days of travel had settled into a routine—wake, eat, travel, rest—but the monotony didn't bother Kalem. Every mile brought him closer to Arcathis and the mysteries that awaited him there.
Onyx, as usual, remained an ever-reliable companion. The bull occasionally stopped to sniff at wildflowers or paw at the ground, but otherwise, he plodded forward with a sense of quiet determination that Kalem found oddly reassuring.
"You're really the best traveling partner I could've asked for, you know that?" Kalem said, patting Onyx's side as they crested a hill.
The bull snorted, his ears flicking back briefly, and Kalem chuckled.
As they descended into a shallow valley, Kalem heard a faint melody carried on the wind. The sound of a lute, accompanied by a clear, melodic voice, grew louder as they approached a bend in the road.
Curious, Kalem urged Onyx onward until they came upon the source of the music—a young minstrel seated on a moss-covered rock by the roadside. The man's hair was a tousled mess of auburn curls, and his clothes were patched but vibrant, adorned with intricate embroidery. His lute, though well-worn, produced a tune so enchanting that Kalem found himself pausing to listen.
"Ah, a fellow traveler!" the minstrel said, noticing Kalem. He plucked the final notes of his song and stood, bowing theatrically. "Jorren, at your service. Wandering bard, teller of tales, and occasional jester."
Kalem nodded politely. "Kalem. Just a craftsman on his way to Arcathis."
"Arcathis, you say? A noble destination!" Jorren exclaimed, slinging his lute over his shoulder. "Mind if I walk with you for a while? The road can be terribly dull without a bit of music and conversation."
Kalem hesitated for a moment, then gestured toward the cart. "Sure, hop on if you want. Just don't break anything back there."
Jorren grinned and climbed onto the cart, settling among the tools and weapons. "Much obliged, my friend. You won't regret it—I promise to keep you entertained."
As they traveled, Jorren played lively tunes on his lute and shared stories of his adventures. Some were clearly exaggerated, but they were entertaining nonetheless.
"And there I was," Jorren said dramatically, "facing down a dozen bandits with nothing but my lute and my wits. Naturally, I outsmarted them all and escaped unscathed."
Kalem raised an eyebrow. "You're saying you defeated twelve bandits with a musical instrument?"
"Well," Jorren admitted with a sheepish grin, "perhaps it was more like three. And maybe I ran away before they could catch me. But the point is, I lived to tell the tale!"
Kalem chuckled, shaking his head. "You've got a talent for storytelling, I'll give you that."
"Thank you, thank you," Jorren said with a flourish. "And what about you, Kalem? Surely you've got some tales of your own. What's a craftsman doing on the road to Arcathis?"
Kalem hesitated before sharing a brief version of his journey so far—the Ironworks, the ruins, the battles he had faced, and his hope of learning more at the Academy.
Jorren listened intently, his usual playfulness replaced by genuine curiosity. "Sounds like you've had quite the adventure already. Arcathis will be lucky to have someone like you."
The pair's conversation was interrupted by a low growl from the nearby bushes. Onyx stopped in his tracks, his ears swiveling forward as he let out a warning snort.
Kalem grabbed his spear and stepped forward cautiously. "Stay back, Jorren," he said, scanning the undergrowth.
A moment later, a pair of wolves emerged from the shadows, their eyes glinting with hunger. They were lean and scruffy, likely desperate enough to attack travelers in broad daylight.
Jorren scrambled off the cart, clutching his lute like a shield. "I don't suppose they'd be interested in a song?" he quipped nervously.
Kalem didn't answer. He positioned himself between the wolves and the cart, his spear at the ready. The first wolf lunged, but Kalem sidestepped and struck with precision, the spear's blade grazing its side. The second wolf tried to circle around, but Onyx bellowed loudly, stomping a hoof and forcing it to retreat.
The confrontation didn't last long. The wolves, realizing they were outmatched, slunk back into the forest, their growls fading into the distance.
Jorren let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Remind me never to complain about the monotony of the road again."
Kalem smirked, lowering his spear. "Let's hope that was the worst of it."
By the time they reached a crossroads, the sun was beginning to set. Jorren hopped off the cart and bowed once more.
"This is where we part ways, my friend," he said. "Thank you for the ride and the company. If you ever find yourself in a tavern needing a good story or a song, look for Jorren the Magnificent."
"Magnificent, huh?" Kalem said with a grin.
Jorren winked. "The name's a work in progress."
With that, the minstrel slung his lute over his shoulder and disappeared down a side path, humming a jaunty tune. Kalem watched him go, then turned back to Onyx.
"Looks like it's just us again, buddy," he said, patting the bull's side. "Let's keep moving."
As the cart rolled onward, Kalem found himself smiling. The road was unpredictable, but it was never boring.