Chapter 4

Nick stirred awake, the damp ground beneath him reminding him of how little rest he'd truly had. The faint crackle of a fire caught his attention, and he sat up to see Silas crouched by the flames, turning a skewer of meat over the fire. Morning light streamed through the trees, painting the scene in a warm, golden glow.

"Finally awake," Silas said without looking up. "Meat's almost ready."

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Nick shuffled closer to the fire. "You've been up long?"

"Long enough," Silas replied, cutting a chunk of meat and tossing it onto a makeshift plate made of a flat rock. He handed it to Nick. "Eat. You'll need it."

Nick hesitated before taking a bite. The savory taste melted on his tongue, a stark contrast to the bland, packaged food he'd grown up with. They ate in relative silence, the occasional crack of the fire filling the void.

As they prepared to leave, Nick glanced at Silas. "How much farther to the village?"

"Not long now," Silas said, slinging a bundle of leftover meat over his shoulder. His tone shifted, almost wary. "Before we get there, though, you should know… the villagers aren't exactly forgiving."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Silas sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "They're strict. Too strict. I was there for three days before I got hungry and stole a piece of bread. They locked me up for two months—or at least, that was the sentence. They forgot about me. Left me in that cave until now."

Nick frowned, the weight of those words settling in. "That's insane."

"It is what it is," Silas muttered, then glanced at the horizon. "Let's just hope he's not there."

Nick paused mid-step. "Who's 'he'?"

"Nobody you need to worry about," Silas replied curtly, picking up the pace. "The less you know, the better."

Though the response irritated him, Nick decided not to press further. The landscape around them gradually shifted, the rocky terrain giving way to softer, mossy ground. The air grew heavier, thick with the earthy scent of decay. Soon, they found themselves in a swampy expanse, where strange, insect-like creatures darted across the water's surface.

By the time they reached the village, the sun hung high in the sky. It was a modest settlement, with wooden huts clustered around a central well. Villagers bustled about, carrying baskets of crops or leading bizarre animals with six legs and bright, fur-like coats. Despite its size, the village seemed lively and orderly.

To Nick's surprise, the villagers greeted them warmly. A woman with a woven basket offered them fresh fruit, while a man fixing a cart gave a nod of acknowledgment. "Welcome, travelers," he said, his voice gruff but kind. "Been a while since we had visitors."

Silas, however, kept his head low, muttering under his breath, "They don't remember me, but he might."

Nick caught the comment but chose not to react. Instead, he smiled politely and thanked the villagers for their kindness.

As they moved deeper into the village, Nick glanced around. "They seem pretty chill for strict people."

Silas's expression darkened. "They've changed," he murmured, almost to himself. "Something's different."

Nick wanted to ask more, but Silas cut him off. "You go do your thing. I've got… business to take care of."

"Business?" Nick asked.

Silas smirked. "Can't walk around looking like I've just escaped a cave. Time to get fresh."

With that, he headed off toward a small building marked by a crude sign depicting scissors and a comb. Nick watched him go, then turned his attention to the villagers. He needed answers.

Approaching an elderly man tending to a patch of odd-looking plants, Nick asked, "Excuse me, have you ever heard of something called portal goo?"

The man squinted up at him, scratching his beard. "Portal goo? Can't say I have. Sounds like something from the old stories."

Disappointed but undeterred, Nick continued his inquiries. Most villagers shook their heads or gave vague answers. Finally, a middle-aged woman paused her work to eye him suspiciously. "You're not from around here, are you?" she asked.

"No, I—"

"Don't tell me you're a spy from the Ironclad Kingdom," she interrupted, gripping a pitchfork tightly. "We don't take kindly to their kind."

Nick raised his hands defensively. "I'm not a spy! Just… lost."

Her gaze lingered for a moment before she relaxed. "Alright, but watch yourself."

Silas stepped out of the barber's shop, the sharp tang of soap and freshly cut hair lingering in the air. His once unruly locks were now neatly trimmed, and his scruffy beard had been reduced to a clean, well-groomed shadow.

For the first time in months, Silas almost felt human. Stretching his arms above his head, he cast a satisfied glance down the narrow, bustling street. Villagers milled about, carrying baskets of produce, tending to animals, or chatting with one another. Silas' transformation seemed to have worked—no one gave him a second glance.

As he made his way toward the market stalls, a burly man with a bundle of firewood balanced on his shoulder stopped in his tracks and greeted him. "Morning," the man said, squinting at Silas.

"Morning," Silas replied casually.

The man cocked his head. "New to town, huh?"

"Something like that," Silas said with a faint smile, his tone betraying nothing.

The man nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Well, welcome back, stranger." With that, he trudged off, leaving Silas to continue his journey unbothered.

The market was a chaotic symphony of haggling voices and clinking coins. Silas maneuvered through the crowd, stopping occasionally to inspect wares. He bartered for a loaf of dark bread and a small sack of dried fruit with goods he stole, exchanging polite banter with the elderly woman running the stall. She squinted at him suspiciously at first but eventually warmed up to his charm.

"You've got a quick tongue," she said, handing him his change. "Don't let it get you into trouble."

"I'll keep that in mind," Silas said with a smirk, tucking the food into his bag.

Eventually, Silas reached the edge of the village, where a small, weathered house stood partially hidden by overgrown vines. He knocked twice on the door and stepped back, waiting. The sound of hurried footsteps approached, and the door creaked open just enough to reveal a wiry man with sharp, darting eyes. The man's face went pale.

"Silas?" he whispered harshly, his voice filled with disbelief and panic. "Are you insane? What are you doing here? Do you want to die?"

Silas leaned lazily against the door-frame, his expression unreadable. "Good to see you too, Kael."

Kael glanced around nervously before yanking Silas inside and slamming the door shut. "You shouldn't have come back. After everything—"

"Relax," Silas interrupted, brushing past him to survey the dimly lit room. "I'm not here to stir up trouble. I just needed a place to rest."

Kael's hands trembled as he ran them through his hair. "You shouldn't be here at all. You know who's still looking for you. If he finds out…"

"He won't," Silas said calmly, turning to face Kael. "I don't care about him anymore."

Kael's mouth tightened, and for a moment, neither man spoke. Finally, Kael exhaled and sank into a chair, his shoulders slumping. "You've got a death wish, Silas."

"Maybe," Silas admitted, leaning against the wall. "But I'm still here."

Kael's eyes narrowed. "Why did you come back? After everything… I couldn't risk—"

"You didn't come to help me," Silas cut in, his tone flat but heavy with unspoken accusations. "Even after my sentence ended."

Kael flinched as though struck. "It wasn't safe," he said weakly. "You know that."

"Safe for you, maybe," Silas said, crossing his arms. "But not for me."

Kael's gaze fell to the floor. Silence stretched between them, thick with unresolved tension. Finally, Kael looked up, his voice softer. "It's good to see you alive, Silas. Even if it's the last time."

Silas gave a faint nod, his expression unreadable. "We'll see about that."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the village, Nick wandered aimlessly through the winding streets. The vibrant simplicity of the villagers' lives fascinated him.

He passed a blacksmith hammering away at a glowing piece of metal, sparks flying in every direction. A group of children giggled as they chased each other around a well, while an elderly couple meticulously tended to a patch of vegetables. Everything felt so different from the cold, impersonal city he'd left behind. Here, life seemed slow and purposeful, unburdened by the constant rush of modernity.

Nick stopped near a stall selling colorful fabrics. The vendor, a woman with weathered hands and a warm smile, held up a swatch of deep blue cloth. "This would make a fine cloak," she said, her voice tinged with pride. "Keeps the wind out on cold nights."

"It's beautiful," Nick replied, his fingers brushing the soft material.

The woman's eyes twinkled. "You've got an eye for quality. Tell you what, take this." She handed him a small patch of fabric. "Consider it a gift for a traveler."

"Thank you," Nick said, tucking the cloth into his pocket. He felt a strange sense of belonging, even though he was clearly an outsider.

Further along, he noticed a group of men hauling wooden planks toward a half-constructed house. One of them paused to wipe sweat from his brow and caught sight of Nick. "Hey there, stranger! You lost?"

Nick hesitated before shaking his head. "Just… looking around."

The man laughed, slapping the plank over his shoulder. "Well, welcome to our little corner of the world. Stay long enough, and you might even like it here."

Nick smiled faintly but said nothing. The warmth of the villagers was both comforting and overwhelming. He wasn't used to such open friendliness, and part of him didn't know how to respond.

Eventually, he found himself near a pen filled with strange, six-legged creatures that looked like a mix between goats and lizards. Their scales shimmered under the sunlight, and they let out low, rumbling sounds as they chewed on grass. Nick leaned against the fence, captivated by the bizarre animals.

"You like them?" a voice asked, breaking his reverie.

Nick turned to see a boy about his age approaching, carrying a bucket of feed. The boy's clothes were simple but well-kept, and his expression was friendly and curious.

"They're… weird," Nick admitted with a small laugh.

The boy grinned, setting the bucket down. "Weird? These are drelks—some of the best work animals you'll find anywhere. Strong as prouns and smart as douns." He extended a hand. "I'm Renn."

"Nick," he replied, shaking Renn's hand.

Renn studied him curiously. "You're not from around here, are you?"

Nick hesitated before nodding. "Not even close."

"Thought so," Renn said, leaning against the fence beside him. "Where are you from?"

"It's a long story," Nick said, kicking a loose pebble on the ground. "Honestly, I'm not even sure how I got here."

Renn's eyes lit up with curiosity. "Really? Sounds like you've got a story worth telling."

They fell into an easy conversation, trading tales about their vastly different worlds. Nick described the towering skyscrapers and constant hum of technology in his city, while Renn spoke of vast, uncharted forests and ancient ruins hidden in the mountains.

"Portal goo?" Renn repeated when Nick mentioned the strange substance. His brow furrowed in thought. "Never seen it, but I've heard stories about places where weird stuff like that shows up. Old shrines, caves with glowing walls… places the elders say are cursed."

Nick's eyes widened. "Do you know where any of those places are?"

Renn nodded slowly. "A few. But getting to them… that's the tricky part. Especially these past few months. The paths are dangerous, and the weather's unpredictable. We'd have to wait a little before we can even think about going."

Nick's shoulders sagged slightly. "So, we're stuck here?"

"For now," Renn said with a shrug. Then his expression brightened. "But it's not so bad. You can stay with me until we're ready to move. My place isn't much, but it's warm and dry."

Nick glanced at him, surprised by the offer. "You'd do that?"

"Sure," Renn said, grinning. "Besides, it'll give us time to plan. And who knows? Maybe we'll learn something useful while we're here."

As they made their way back toward the village square, Nick felt a strange mix of relief and anticipation. The uncertainty of his situation was daunting, but for the first time in a long while, he felt happy not being alone.

They arrived at the square just as the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the cobblestones. Silas was already there, leaning casually against a post and watching the crowd with his usual guarded expression. He straightened as they approached, his sharp eyes flicking between Nick and Renn.

"Made a friend?" Silas asked, his tone neutral but laced with curiosity.

Nick nodded. "Renn says he might know where to find the portal goo. But it'll take time."

Silas raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. "Good. We'll need supplies if we're staying."

"You can both stay with me," Renn offered. "It'll be cramped, but better than sleeping outside."

Silas gave a curt nod. "Appreciated."

As the three of them stood in the fading light, a sense of quiet determination settled over them. The journey ahead was uncertain and fraught with challenges, but for now, they had a place to rest and plan. And in this strange, unfamiliar world, that was enough to keep hope alive.