The sun was well into the sky as Kael and Rell resumed their journey, the disturbing discovery of the slave trader's wagon remained in their minds.
Kael couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. "Sooo," he started, breaking the silence, "we're about three hours away from the capital, right?"
Rell nodded, he wasn't grinning as usual. "According to the map, yes. Shouldn't be much longer."
As much as he was excited, Kael was confused. "It's been six and a half days. Didn't lady Seraphina say we'd reach there in a week and two days."
"That's an assumption Kael. She had to take in factors that could delay the trip." Rell answered, "also, it's better to assume we will be late and be early, than assume we'll be early and arrive late."
"Oh, I see," Kael said, relieved. "I can't wait to leave this forest and finally sleep on a bed after a week."
But an hour later, they found themselves pulling up to the same wagon they had left behind earlier. The donkey was still there, its head hung low lazily as it ate grass. Kael's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Rell," he said slowly, "we've already been here."
Rell frowned, scanning the surroundings. "That's impossible. We've been heading straight for Regalith."
He hopped off the carriage and checked the wagon. Everything was exactly as they'd left it. The wagon was of the brick path and on the side where they had moved it to, the crates were overturned and scattered around, and even the ashes of the slave collars Kael had destroyed in disgust were there, slightly scattered around from the light breeze.
Kael folded his arms. "So why are we back here? Are you sure you know where you're going?"
Rell glared at him. "I've driven this route a dozen times. I know where I'm going."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "Clearly, you don't."
With an annoyed grunt, Rell pulled out his map, double-checking their path. "This doesn't make any sense," he muttered. "We're heading the right way. We are supposed to bee reaching a grassy meadow by now."
"Right way, wrong result," Kael remarked. He gestured at the wagon. "Let's try again. This time check where you're going properly."
Another hour passed, and once again, they arrived at the wagon. This time, Kael leaned forward frustrated. "Rell, what in the god's name is going on?"
Rell's hands clenched around the reins. "How should I know? Maybe there's something wrong with the map." He paused, glancing at Kael. "Or maybe we're dealing with something unnatural."
Kael snorted. "Unnatural? You mean like the corrupted or... weird people who like fragments too much?"
Rell didn't respond immediately. Instead, he guided the horses into a different path, not following the same direction on the map and intending to tale a roundabout way.
The silence between them grew more awkward as they continued through the journey.
Yet another hour later, they arrived back at the wagon. Kael threw his hands up in frustration. "That's it. I'm taking over."
"Be my guest," Rell angrily snapped, handing him the reins. "Let's see if the great hero of Ravenhold can do any better."
Kael ignored what he said and took the reins. Flicking them, he urged the horses to move forward, determined to break the damned cycle. But as the sun went higher in the sky, an hour later, their path once again led them to the same cursed wagon.
Rell smacked Kael lightly on the back of his head. "Nice work, genius."
Kael sighed, finally loosing his patience. "Fine. Let's try waiting here for a bit. Maybe whatever's happening will reveal itself or ware off."
They got off the carriage and while Rell examined the area for clues, Kael busied himself with his training. He took out Ignis, the katana-like blade gifted to him, from it's sheath and began practicing his swings. Following the captain's instructions to complete one hundred swings daily.
He raised the blade in a smooth arc over his shoulder, and swung from his right shoulder area to the left hip.
Resetting the blade above his shoulder, he repeated the swinging motion and by the time he reached his eightieth swing, his muscles were exhausted, but he kept going.
Rell returned from his scouting out the area, shaking his head. "Nothing's changed... much," he said. "This place is off. It's like something is messing with us."
Kael didn't respond immediately, he focused on finishing his last fifteen swings. When he was done, he sheathed Ignis, wiped his forehead, and put on his shirt. "What do you mean by off?"
Rell, annoyed by Kael's delayed response, gestured towards the forest. "It's like the trees are moving. The path changes when you're not looking."
Kael frowned. "You think it's some kind of illusion?"
"Maybe," Rell admitted. "But there's something else. Follow me."
Rell led Kael back to the spot where the slave traders' bodies had been. The sight that they saw made Kael stop in his tracks shocked and sucked in a log breath. "What... What happened here?"
The bodies were gone, but the was so much blood where the bodies had been, much more than the blood they had coughed out when dying.
The blood was all fresh and still moving through the grass as if it had just been spilt, with pieces of flesh scatters around the area.
Rell crouched beside the scene with a dreadful expression on his face. "This wasn't here earlier."
Kael didn't know what to make of the sight, but his stomach churned and he began too feel nauseous. His tightened his grip on Ignis and looked around cautiously. "Something is here, it's close. And it's playing with us."
The air around them felt thicker, it was almost suffocating. Kael shifted into a defensive stance while he scanned the area, his instincts were on high alert as he tried to steady his breathing. "We're not alone," he muttered.
Rell nodded, rising to his feet. "No kidding! Stay sharp. Whatever's out there, it's not friendly."