Chapter 5: Paths Crossed

The sun begins to dip low on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of amber and crimson as Kaien and Lyra continue their journey through the hills. Their surroundings have shifted from dense forest to sparse, rolling grasslands, where the occasional cluster of trees offers scant shade. Lyra lags behind, her small steps uneven and her breaths shallow. Kaien glances over his shoulder and slows his pace.

"Let's rest for a moment," he says, kneeling to her level.

Lyra shakes her head stubbornly, though her weary eyes betray her exhaustion. "We have to keep moving… what if those soldiers find us?"

Kaien places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We're far enough from Sevryn now. They won't bother chasing us this far, not with the city in ruins." His voice softens. "You're tired, Lyra. Let's take a break. We'll find water soon."

She hesitates but finally nods, sinking onto a patch of grass. Kaien scans the horizon, his gaze catching the faint glimmer of sunlight reflecting off metal in the distance. At first, he tenses, fearing it might be the glint of armor, but as the shape becomes clearer, he realizes it's not a battalion of soldiers.

It's a caravan.

The caravan comes into view within the next hour—a modest procession of wagons, their wooden sides reinforced with bronze-colored plates etched with intricate Tide Shaper markings. Brightly colored banners flap lazily in the breeze, advertising the wares of a traveling merchant.

As they draw closer, Kaien's eyes are drawn to the central wagon, larger and more ornate than the others. Its exterior is carved with detailed sigils of the Sea of Essence, the patterns glowing faintly with stored tide energy. A pair of sturdy draft beasts, their hides shimmering like polished stone, pull the wagon along the dusty trail.

Standing beside the largest wagon is an old man, his gray beard flowing down to his chest like cascading waves. Despite his weathered appearance, there's a vitality in his eyes, sharp and perceptive. Beside him stands a teenage boy, perhaps sixteen, with hair the color of sunlit sand. He carries a satchel across his shoulder and a curious expression on his face.

Kaien hesitates, his instincts screaming to avoid unnecessary interaction, but Lyra tugs at his sleeve.

"They might have food," she whispers, her voice hopeful yet cautious.

Kaien sighs. "Stay close to me. Don't say anything unless I tell you to."

As they approach, the old man notices them, raising a hand in greeting. "Well met, travelers!" His voice is warm, carrying the weight of a seasoned merchant who has seen much of the world. "You look like you've been walking for days. Care to rest your feet?"

Kaien studies the man carefully, noting the calmness in his posture and the lack of visible weapons. The teenager, while alert, doesn't appear hostile either. Kaien nods, forcing a polite smile.

"We've been traveling for a while," he admits. "The little one is tired, and we're low on supplies."

The old man strokes his beard thoughtfully. "A tough road, then. I'd wager you've come from the south, near Lytharion's borderlands?"

Kaien stiffens at the mention of the kingdom, but he keeps his expression neutral. "Something like that. We're just trying to find a safe place."

The merchant's eyes flicker to Lyra, who clings to Kaien's side, clutching the wooden box protectively. His gaze softens. "You have the look of a Tide Shaper," he says, gesturing toward Kaien's worn clothes. "Though you don't seem to carry tools or crafted gear. Am I wrong?"

Kaien's heart skips a beat. The man's perceptiveness is unnerving, but he forces himself to remain calm. "I'm a Tide Shaper," he says evenly. "But I lost most of my belongings during an attack. We're lucky to be alive."

The old man nods, his expression one of understanding. "Ah, that explains it. Unfortunate times for many these days." He gestures toward the wagons. "I'm Eldrin, a merchant by trade. This is my son, Corin."

The boy, Corin, offers a small wave. "You're heading north, then? There's not much out here in the grasslands except more road."

Kaien hesitates before answering. "We're heading wherever it's safe."

Eldrin tilts his head, his sharp eyes studying Kaien for a long moment. Finally, he gestures toward the wagon. "You're welcome to join us for a while. We're heading toward the Kingdom of Ardanth, about two weeks' journey from here."

Kaien is taken aback by the offer. "Why would you help us?"

Eldrin chuckles. "The world's hard enough as it is. A little kindness can go a long way. Besides, you look like you could use a proper meal. No sense turning away honest folk."

Lyra tugs at Kaien's sleeve again, her wide eyes silently pleading. Kaien glances down at her before meeting Eldrin's gaze. "We'd be grateful for the ride," he says cautiously.

The wagon is more spacious than Kaien expected, its interior lined with shelves holding jars and vials of various colors, each one labeled with elegant script. The air inside carries a faint, salty tang, reminiscent of the Sea of Essence itself.

Eldrin explains as they ride, his voice animated and full of pride. "All of this," he gestures to the products, "is infused with sea essence, crafted by skilled Tide Shapers. Potions for strength, tools for travel, even simple charms to ward off illness. There's a market for everything, you see."

Corin, seated near the front, chimes in. "We pick up goods from all over. Some kingdoms specialize in certain crafts. Lytharion, for example, is known for their Tide Shaped weapons."

Kaien listens carefully, storing the information for later. "And what about you?" he asks Eldrin. "You seem more than just a merchant."

Eldrin chuckles, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "You're observant. I have the Traveler Tide—makes crossing great distances a bit easier. Comes in handy for someone in my line of work."

Kaien's interest is piqued. The Traveler Tide was a rare ability, one that allowed its wielder to traverse not just physical distances but even slip between dimensions or across realms if skilled enough. Eldrin's kindness made more sense now; a man with such a power would rarely fear the dangers of the road.

Lyra, who had been silent until now, finally speaks. "Do you make all these things yourself?"

Eldrin smiles warmly at her. "Not all of them, little one. I leave the crafting to the experts, though I know a thing or two about regular crafting. What about you? Do you have a tide of your own?"

Kaien tenses, shooting Lyra a warning glance. She hesitates before shaking her head. "I have one… I mean, it's nothing special."

Eldrin nods, not pressing further. "Well, everyone has their own strengths. You're lucky to have someone looking out for you."

As the sun sets, the caravan halts near a small grove, where a campfire is soon lit. Eldrin prepares a simple meal of dried meats and bread, sharing the food without hesitation. Lyra eats ravenously, while Kaien forces himself to eat slowly, his mind churning with thoughts of their next move.

Eldrin's kindness is genuine, but Kaien knows better than to trust too easily. Still, the man's knowledge of the road ahead and his power could prove invaluable. For now, Kaien decides to stay with the caravan.

As the fire crackles and the night deepens, Kaien sits on the edge of the camp, staring out at the darkened plains. The Negative Current stirs faintly within him, a reminder of the power he now wields—and the danger it brings.

"We'll keep moving," he mutters to himself. "One step at a time."

Lyra's soft snores reach his ears, a small comfort in the vast, uncertain night.