“So because bad things happen, The Dragons must be bad too, eh? Lightning destroys your home, and that’s The Dragons’ will? Then so, too, is the community that mourns and rebuilds with you. It’s all The Dragons’ will, or none of it is.”

  —Syndra Chaehorn, Book of the Masters

  The sunset’s fire on the tall grass faded as the Diamond orb slipped beyond the western horizon. Darkness settled. The stars and moon asserted themselves and gently illuminated the face of the world. The wind blew softly, bringing a chill to the night air. The sound of crickets slowed as the night cooled, though the Pilgrims hardly took notice. Aided by a circling hawk, Vadania had secured a pair of rabbits for their supper. Together, Zara and Vadania had dressed the animals and secured them on a spit over the fire which Iss had prepared after his return, using the wood Mugen and Tizhaus had collected. Dinto had gathered and sorted all their other rations, including his own which consisted mostly of fruits and vegetables. Apart from the sounds of the night and the meat sizzling over the fire, there was naught to be heard. And so they all sat uneasy in the company of their fellows, each waiting for one of the others to break the awkward silence which had grown between them.

  JOHN: Okay, god, we’ll start talking.

  DM: Thank you.

  NICK: OOH! OOH! I can go!

  “So,” Vadania began, “we should probably—”

  “I’m so glad you asked!” Tizhaus interrupted. “After all, how can we all become best friends—especially Mugen and I—if we don’t know everything about each other?”

  Stunned, the others could not collect themselves in time to object before Tizhaus continued.

  “My story begins like any other—with my egg being unloaded with a bunch of melons on the docks of Thieves' Port. Naghid eggs are roughly the same shape and color as melons, you see. Anyhoo, I obviously have no idea where I came from, who or where my family is, or how my egg ended up on the docks in a fruit crate. My first memory is of hatching in the fruit stand and looking up into the eyes of Granny.”

  “‘Granny?’ I thought you didn’t know who your family was or where you came from?” asked Zara.

  “Oh, I don’t. I don’t know who my parents are, or if I have siblings. It’s not like they ever came looking for me.”

  “But, you just said your grandmother was there when you hatched?” asked Vadania.

  “Granny isn’t my grandmother, she’s just Granny.”

  JOHN: OH MY GOD.

  CHARLIE: Yeah, I’m so confused right now.

  Tizhaus looked around at the confused expressions on the other Pilgrim’s faces. He took a deep breath and patiently explained, “Look, I’m sorry. I know none of you are really all that bright—I’ll start over: As an egg, I ended up in a cart of melons—”

  “No, we understand all that,” Vadania interjected, “Who is Granny?”

  “Granny is like my mom. She adopted me.”

  “Your grandmother adopted you?” asked Zara.

  “No! Granny isn’t my grandma, I already told you that. Her name is Granny. And she adopted me, so she’s like my mom. She raised me, gave me magic, all of that.”

  “Okay, so a kindly old woman, conveniently named Granny, found you as you hatched in a fruit cart in Thieves’ Port?” asked Zara.

  “Well, I wouldn’t say she was always kindly. But, maybe that’s because I wasn’t always a good kid—I certainly kept her busy.” Tizhaus pushed back a small, dramatic tear and continued, “She’s in a better place now… but the last time we spoke she made me promise that I’d be a good boy, even when she couldn’t be around.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” said Vadania, “I know what it’s like to lose parents.”

  “Thank you,” Tizhaus sniffed, “that means a lot.”

  “How long ago did she… when was that last conversation you had with her?” asked Zara.

  “I spoke to her yesterday, why?”

  “What? She died yesterday?!” asked Zara.

  “DEAD?! Who said Granny was dead? I never said that! I said she went to a better place.”

  “OH, GODS!” Mugen groaned.

  “So… if she’s not dead, where did she go to?” asked Vadania.

  “She went to the Fae Realm.”

  “She just… up and left for a different plane?” asked Mugen.

  “Well, yeah. She is an Archefae. I guess she was just due back home or something.”

  “I’m sorry… I’m gonna need a second…” Mugen took a long, slow breath. “Do you mean to say that you were adopted by extraplanar royalty?!”

  “I mean, I guess? I never really thought about it like that.”

  “…How?!”

  “How what?”

  “How have you never thought about this before?”

  “I dunno, it never really came up… Gasp! If Granny is royalty, does that make me a handsome prince!?”

  JOHN: I don’t know how much more of this Mugen can take. I imagine at this point he’s feeling violently ill.

  Mugen stood then, turned, and walked away into the darkness without a word.

  “Is… is Mugen upset?” asked Tizhaus.

  “No, no… I’m sure he just needs minute. It’s—this is all very new,” said Vadania reassuringly.

  “New? C’mon, I can’t be the only one with a story like this.”

  “I think you are, actually,” Vadania said, after scanning the confused faces of the other Pilgrims.

  Tizhaus sat quietly for a moment, deep in thought. Then the realization struck. “Oh! Mugen’s not upset, he thinks I’m special! He doesn’t have a Granny so he’s—oh no!” he said, standing suddenly as another spark of realization struck, “He’s jealous! What have I done?! I must go to him! I have to let him know that I don’t care if he’s not handsome, or not a prince, or wasn’t given magical powers by an Archefae—he needs to know that I’m still his best friend!”

  “Tone it down, sweetheart,” Vadania said, taking Tizhaus by the arm and pulling him back down to his seat. “I don’t think Mugen is done… uh… with his walk.”

  Tizhaus sighed and nodded in agreement. “You’re right. I’ll just have to be extra super nice to him and give him plenty of attention until he understands how important he is to me.”

  “So, you said Granny gave you your magic powers?” said Iss, changing the subject. “How does that work?”

  “Oh! It’s not that complicated. She just had me sign a contract, promise to uphold my end of the bargain, etcetera.”

  Zara’s mouth fell open in shock. “You owe a divine debt to an Archefae?! What did you have to promise to get your powers?”

  “I… uh… I already told you,” said Tizhaus, suddenly a bit sheepish.

  “No, I don’t think you did,” said Zara.

  “I… had to promise to be a good boy even when she wasn’t around.”

  A loud groan from Mugen, somewhere in the darkness not far beyond the campfire, startled the Pilgrims.

  “Is Mugen okay? Maybe I should—” began Tizhaus.

  “He’s fine,” Vadania interrupted. “I think he’s just… let’s move on to something else. Dinto, you’ve been awfully quiet.”

  Dinto, who had been munching contentedly on carrots and ginger roots, swallowed and looked around at the faces of his fellow Pilgrims before he addressed Vadania, “I’m sorry… what are we talking about?”

  “We’re just getting to know each other bit better. Tell us about yourself?”

  “Oh! Well, there’s not much to tell. I was born not far from here. My family and I travelled all over the lowlands. We would gather food, weave, visit towns to trade what we had found and made, and keep traveling. This was our way, and we were happy.”

  “‘Were’? Where are they now?” asked Vadania.

  “Dead.”

  “Oh! I’m so sorry…”

  Dinto shrugged.

  “It was a long time ago, I was just a calf then.”

  Zara moved closer to Dinto and put her hand on his knee. “Is it alright if I ask what happened?”

  Dinto looked down at Zara. Her large, soft eyes were looking directly into his. Unable to keep eye contact for long, Dinto sighed and turned, staring into the fire as he spoke.

  “They found us at eventide, while we ate supper—several men and even more clockwork soldiers. My father stood tall and offered to share what we had with them, but they attacked us. My mother ran away with me while the others fought. She hid me in the roots of a tree surrounded by long grass and told me not to make a sound no matter what happened. Then she left me. I waited as long as I could. I was quiet all night, and the next day, and the night after that. But I was hungry, and so the next morning I went looking for my family. I…,” he flinched at the memory, “still wish I hadn’t found them.”

  Zara began to cry and she hugged Dinto tightly. Dinto was surprised, but he put his arms around Zara and sighed contentedly.

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  “That’s nice. Thank you,” he said, burying his pain again.

  “That is terrible, Dinto. Whatever did you do after that?” asked Vadania.

  Dinto shrugged again and answered, “I just kept doing what we had always done. I traveled all around the lowlands. I gathered food, I weaved, I visited towns to trade, and I kept traveling. This was our way… and now it is my way.”

  While Zara and Vadania sat feeling the weight of Dinto’s words in the silence, Iss took the chance to ask, “Dinto, are you saying you’ve been alone since you lost your family?”

  Dinto looked over at Iss as he answered, “Yes. In all my travels I have never seen another Pah-Khi. I think I might be the last of our kind… But many people are alone, that is just the way of things. It’s alright. I will apologize now if I seem strange to anyone—I am just not accustomed to being around so many people.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that, friend,” Iss said, smiling. “You’re not even the strangest one here.”

  “Well, Mugen’s not back yet so he might be,” added Tizhaus.

  “HUSH!” Vadania quickly interjected. “Don’t pay attention to him, Dinto. And you don’t have to worry—you’re not alone anymore.”

  As Dinto smiled at the thought, Mugen quietly returned to his seat at the fireside. Tizhaus waited a moment before clearing his throat and asking his next question.

  “Vadania, you said that you knew what it was like to lose parents. What’s your story?”

  “Oh, I lost my parents to storm at sea. I, also, was very young when this happened. I don’t remember where we came from, or why we were on boat. I just remember the terrible wind and cold. I washed ashore near Krook—”

  DM: Kryuuk.

  “—Kryuuk, where Orcs found me. They raised me as if I was one of their own. I learned how to ride, how to hunt, and how to wrestle. I learned a little magic too! The Orcs are good people, and I am lucky to have them.”

  “It looks like they taught you how to talk, too.” Tizhaus observed.

  “Ha! Yes, I have little accent. All Orcs speak this way. Orcs are simple and direct—they do not hide how they think or feel.”

  “I can appreciate that,” interjected Iss. “I never really flew far from home before this adventure, but I’ve already observed that people follow certain customs in communication—customs that my tribe would find very silly. Small talk. Subtle judgements and insults. They mask their intent or desires behind different words—but if you don’t know how to play the game and take what they say at face value, you’ll be totally lost.”

  “You get a lot of that in the city,” added Zara. “I think it started with people just trying to be polite, but then the games started. Politeness and niceties were weaponized by people with no intention of being kind.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think you’re far off, actually,” Mugen added. “That type of language is used to gauge the class or caliber of the person you’re speaking with. It’s how nobles and aristocrats maintain their influence and protect their social circles.”

  “Huh,” Zara smirked, “that’s pretty clever. And where did you learn that?”

  The question brought Mugen a sudden awareness that he was participating in the discussion. He scolded himself silently, coughed, and replied, “You first—a city girl, eh? Didn’t I hear Lucien say you were from Venicia?”

  “That’s right,” Zara replied, deciding not to press Mugen at that moment. “I’ve lived in the city all my life. I stick mostly to the parks and city outskirts, sometimes the docks where I can do a bit of fishing—I’m not a huge fan of the hustle and bustle. Plus, I’ve got a thing for critters, so I tend to stay in places where they can find me.”

  “You stay in places with critters? Do you not have home?” Vadania asked.

  “Not really. Home is wherever I can find a place to sleep that night. I’ve never really enjoyed being inside for very long anyways.”

  JOHN: So, you’re an outdoor cat?

  AMY: More or less.

  “No family?” Vadania asked.

  “No. I was raised in Venicia’s orphanage, but left as soon as I could fend for myself. I still visit from time to time—they’re very nice people. Venicia’s actually not very far from here according to Iss. I don’t know what our next move is, but we could always stop there first. I’d be happy to show you all around.”

  The Pilgrims sat quietly for a moment in realization. They had been so absorbed in their conversation that they had neglected so far to discuss the next steps they must take on the long road which lay before them. Venicia lay closest, and in that fair city stood the Temple to the Eternal Sapphire Dragon, Atnatia. Moreover, they already had one in their company who could guide them about the city—

  MELISSA: But we’re not done with backstories yet! We still haven’t heard from John and Charlie!

  —and yet, the night was young. Much time remained to the Pilgrims before the dawn of the sun would require them to settle on a decision regarding their next objective. And so their fireside conversation continued.

  “Thank you, Zara—it is good idea,” Vadania offered. “Iss, you saw Venicia from the sky, yes? How long must we travel tomorrow before we reach it?”

  CHARLIE: Hey, DM, I saw Venicia from the sky, so how long—

  DM: Two or three days—four at most.

  “I’d say it’s about two or three days’ walk from here—four at most,” replied Iss.

  “Good, thank you. And Dinto, what else is nearby?” Vadania asked.

  Dinto had been chewing again, but he stopped, swallowed, and looked around at the moonlit land all about them. Then he asked, “What’s nearby?”

  “Yes, that’s what I’m asking. Venecia is northeast, are there any other cities or settlements nearby? What about Raulstein—”

  DM: Raulstenne.

  MELISSA: Ugh! I’ll get it eventually, I promise!

  DM: You’re fine—I’m just trying to help!

  —Raulstenne?” Vadania asked patiently.

  DEVON: Hey, DM?

  Dinto closed his eyes, reflecting on his travels across the continent. After a moment he answered, “Raulstenne is even farther north and it is west. I anticipate that it would take us a week or more to reach it if we tried.”

  “Ah, so twice as long. Maybe more. Is there a Temple in Raulstenne?” Vadania asked.

  DM: Nice.

  MELISSA: Thanks!

  “Diamond,” said Mugen.

  “I see. So, we will have to go there eventually,” concluded Vadania.

  “True,” said Iss, “but we could take a boat. Less walking.”

  “I vote for the easier way!” offered Tizhaus.

  “Second,” said Zara. “might as well take the shorter road and the longer boat.”

  “My opinion is same,” Vadania added. “Dinto? Mugen? Iss? How do you feel about this plan?”

  Dinto nodded, Iss shrugged, and Mugen offered a disinterested, “Sure…” while looking off into the night sky.

  “Good. That’s settled. Now, Iss—tell us your story.”

  “Ah, I don’t have a story…” Iss pleaded.

  “Nonsense!” Tizhaus interjected. “We can’t be friends if we don’t know the mysterious details of your past.”

  “Alright…” Iss began, reluctantly. “I was hatched and raised in the Blade Mountains. My tribe is small—there’s only around thirty of us left now. Our nests are high in the peaks, so we don’t often run into trouble with Goblins or Kobolds. My grandmother is our tribe’s shamanka.”

  MELISSA: Your tribe’s what?

  NICK: It means ‘no worries.’

  DM: …Shamanka Matata?

  NICK: It ain’t no passin’ craze!

  “A shamanka. It’s… the feminine form of ‘shaman.’ Our tribe has always had a spiritual matriarch, and that’s my grandmother. Somehow she knew that the Ruby Dragon had visited me—even before I told her. Even though I was the chief, she insisted that I answer the call. She practically chased me away.”

  “Wow! You’re the chief of your tribe?!” asked Zara, excitedly.

  “Well, I was—my brother is chief now in my absence. And I only became chief after my father was killed because I was the oldest.”

  “Oh,” Zara said quietly. “I’m sorry. Are you okay with sharing what happened?”

  “Yeah, it’s alright. It was a while ago… It still hurts but, we grow around the grief, you know? Aquillian patrols have been escalating all over Greater Draconia. You saw it today—they actually brought those filthy klankers into the Valley of the Temple and attacked unarmed civilians.”

  NICK: Oh my god, I love the word klankers! That’s not being racist is it? I’m not gonna have to go to some Pilgrim Diversity Training because I want to call all the TikToks klankers, am I?

  CHARLIE: I mean, they’re not alive or anything. You’re probably safe.

  NICK: Wait, the DM’s smiling—why is he smiling? Why are you smiling?

  DM: No reason.

  “My parents were hunting near the base of the mountains—there isn’t much game where we live—and that’s when they were ambushed. I was too young to go with them, but I was told that the Aquillians never even spoke to them. There was nothing they wanted. There was no bargain. There was no justice. There was no mercy. They were simply executed, and their bodies were left upon the ground where they died.”

  “Gods! That’s terrible!” exclaimed Zara.

  “It’s a familiar story. I’m sorry, friend,” offered Dinto.

  “Again, it’s alright—well, actually, it’s not alright. What I mean is that I’ve accepted it. There are some things we can’t change.”

  “Yeah, but—and hear me out—I don’t think that applies to us,” said Tizhaus. “We’re the Pilgrims! We can change whatever we want! We get a wish at the end of this, don’t we? That means we can just wish that nothing bad had ever happened to us!”

  “I… I don’t think it works like that,” said Vadania.

  “Okay… well, then we can wish for an absurd amount of money! Then we’ll all feel better.”

  “I don’t think there’s any amount of money that would satisfy Aquillia and get them to stop. They’re after something else,” said Iss.

  “I didn’t say ‘stop Aquillia,’ I said—you know what? Fine. We’ll use the absurd amount of money to pay everyone else to go fight Aquillia. That will stop them, and we’ll keep enough to stay rich.”

  “I think there’s a lot of people who would kill for a big paycheck,” said Zara. “But I don’t think there’s a lot of people who would die for one.”

  “Humph! Alright. Sure. But I’m out of ideas now,” Tizhaus pouted.

  “I don’t think we’ve walked long enough together to know what we’ll do, or what we should change,” said Zara. “We have a ways to go, so maybe we try and figure out the wish when we get closer to the end?”

  “I think you mean if we get to the end,” corrected Iss.

  Another moment of uneasy silence followed the statement. They all understood that their lives—yea, and even the very fate of the world—would be determined by the road they chose to walk together. This Pilgrimage would—

  “Mugen!” Vadania called.

  DM: Oh, fine…

  “Mugen?” Vadania called again. “Did anyone see where Mugen went?”

  Looking around, the Pilgrims realized that Mugen had again left the fireside.

  “Oh, no! Come, Pilgrims! We must find him!” Tizhaus announced bravely.

  “No,” said Dinto. Everyone turned to face him. Dinto sat calmly, staring out into the dark. “Tonight Mugen will sit with himself.”

  The Pilgrims reflected on this wisdom, and then made the decision to retire for the night. As they began moving toward their beds, a sudden flash of light filled the sky. Even Mugen, who had taken a seat on the side of the hill within earshot of the fireside, turned to see the source of the light. Looking up, the Pilgrims saw a large, flaming streak across the sky to the north. A moment later, a low rumble shook the air.

  “The hells was that?” Mugen whispered to himself.

  NICK: Aha! An omen of death!

  MELISSA: No, falling stars are good luck! This is a good sign.

  NICK: Uh-oh—the DM’s smiling again… What are you planning, you sick freak?!

  Sometimes the most meaningful moments happen when the story slows down.

  If you’re enjoying the pace and want to read ahead, the next stretch of the road is available on Ream.

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