A few days had passed since that morning. Karolus was doing all he could to push it to the back of his mind. He wasn’t yet ready to accept it.

Connor walked a head, or ran a head depending on how he was feeling in that exact moment. He was eating berries and hunting evil Fae creatures, or so he told Karolus. 

“Why didn’t you stay back and Glen came with me, you are rubbish at hunting monsters.” Connor threw a berry at his older brother followed by a high pitched laugh.

“I told you, they are scouting ahead.” The lie was weak but Karolus couldn’t see any distrust from Connor as the boy just shrugged his shoulders in reaction and returned to his imaginary hunt.

“For two days?” scoffed Connor.

Karolus was angling their trek towards the valley rivers, he knew there were villages along them. He had travelled to some of them as a child, helping his father sell sheep wool. It was always a long trek and normally they travelled the merchant roads through the hills. 

Trying to remember the way was hard from their current position. Then there was trying to figure out where the Douén might be.

He had developed a habit of constantly checking his sword was at his hip. With every touch he saw Glen in his mind's eye, smiling in a glade, staring back at him. Mourning would have to wait.

The forest started to thin. The trees were less clumped and more and more streams started to appear. They weren’t far from the larger rivers. 

Either side of them were the long slopes of the valleys reaching up and away. Both brothers had acknowledged at some point just how massive the hills were. 

With Connor mostly ignoring him and eternally distracted by his own imaginations it left Karolus to dwell. Their home in ashes, friends likely dead, their mother and now Glen, gone. The Calvarians had rounded up those of Grey Rock for who knows what mad reasoning.

It wasn’t raining anymore at least, however the ground was still soaked through. The grass and heather the brothers walked made their trousers wet and heavy. Connor, as with any youth, was loving the aftermath of the rain, as it led to adventures in the mud. 

A quick supply check told Karolus they had next to nothing to keep them sustained out in the wild. 

He had taken Glen's hunting bow, he was a terrible shot, but it was worth having. After an insane amount of luck he had managed to down a rabbit and in the process lose several arrows. 

Pleased with himself he had prepared his prey ready for the evening. It wasn’t the greatest of meals that night but it was something. 

Connor as the day had gone on had begun to tire and had started asking to go home. More often as the day came to its end.

Karolus had promised him they were heading in that direction. He wasn’t lying but it would be a couple more days before they got near their settlement. It would be a couple more days with nothing but foraged berries to eat and the trickling becks to drink from. 

The change of the landscape meant they needed to rest in different places, rocky alcoves and on the last night a small cave. It wasn’t as comfortable as being among the trees but it did protect them from the valley winds.

He had already dried Connors clothes by the fire and his brother was fast asleep in said dry clothes whilst he turned his own around in front of the fire. Camping out in the wild in the spring and summer was one thing, but it was fast becoming winter. 

Karolus prodded the campfire with a stick which led to a tug of war with the fire spirits who thought it playful.

The earth spirits had spent their time following Connor about the surrounding flora, joining in his games. There was a different number each time the brothers tried to count them. Anywhere between one and dozen.

He reached out his hand, fingers stretched and palm facing the heat. He moved his hand in the same gestures as the Douén had, attempting to mimic. Eyes on the flames waiting for them to perform the same dances he waited. A heartbeat or two passed and nothing happened.

Karolus chuckled to himself. The Douén were able to instruct the spirits but those present right now were behaving as they so wished.

“What are you doing Karolus?” he asked himself out loud and despite the spirits having no facial features he knew the flames were smiling at him.

The brothers had managed to climb the steep gradients of the hills and get a vantage point out across the valleys. There were several hamlets and villages dotted for miles and miles. The closest maybe a day or two away. 

It was westerly from where they were. But it meant a decent meal and a bed. At least that was the hope. Karolus had looked for signs of the Calvarian forces and was content there was none.

It was late in the afternoon when the small plumes of smoke went from being visible to being smelled in the air. The brothers were close, and a good thing as both were worn and tired.

Ruffling his hair and pulling his  younger sibling in for a half hug every so often, more of a way of making sure both knew the other was there they carried on together. 

Having miss judged the distance the village had been Karolus ended up carrying Connor in a piggy back. It was far easier than just carrying him in his arms but the lad was definitely going to grow up big. 

The closer they got the more Karolus noticed the earth and fire spirits were no longer with them. 

“Hey Connor.” he gestured ahead.

“Erm, what, oh yeah. Good.” Connor mumbled half asleep on his brother's back.

Karolus shrugged Connor further up to stop him slipping off, it was like carrying another adult. As they followed the rocks down to the path that led into the village they lost sight of it around a high bend. 

When it came back into view the candles lit within homes looked like static fireflies, oil lamps were being lit in the street to help villagers see their way.

As they entered the sounds of folks settling the village down for the night were the most welcoming sounds he had heard in days. Much more to his delight it was a clan village. The tartan they wore was black and brown, that of Clan Fuine.

A few looked on at the wild forest man carrying the large youth on his back. Some smiled, others looked cautiously. 

Karolus kept moving into the village ignoring the onlookers for now and aimed for a halfling woman up a ladder with a small flame in her hands for the lamp. Grey hair hung about her shoulders in three thick braids, flashes of auburn hinting to her hair colour as a youth.

“Evening to yer, are you ok you don’t look so goo?” She stepped down from the ladder and towards the two new arrivals with a beaming smile.

“Hi there, just a bit weary. Looking for a place to rest and maybe food and drink.” Karolus made sure he was polite.

“Yer look like yer need more than that youngster. Come with me. Names Stella.” She gestured to follow. 

“Karolus.”

“What?”

“My name, my name is Karolus, pleased to meet you Stella and thank you.”

“And you Karolus, and the sleepy one?”

“My little brother, Connor.” He didn’t answer immediately but didn’t want to look suspicious.

Stella leaned and eyed the youth.

“If you say so.” she laughed and walked on.

Karolus was going through the different clans he knew of and their tartan colours. The northern villages were not so much clans and tribes but in the south it was still the way. The black and brown of Fuine was familiar.

Stella led them through the village to a long hall with a thatched roof, a dripping wet sign, wooden and painted, said Giants Walk Inn across it. There was nothing special about it but it felt like the first Karolus was before the fabled Inn of the Drydakka glades.

The recent events in his life had momentarily been pushed aside. More so when the noise of the folk within roared into his ears. Much merriment was going on inside. Singing, dancing, and a lot of baked goods. 

Smells of ale and sweet dough assailed anyone nearby. It was now Karolus remembered. The tartan was that of a clan very well known for its baking, the Fuine Bakeries carried a well earned reputation.

“In we come lad, i’ll get first round in. I’m guessing something soft for you not so little brother?” Stella grinned and waved at a few of the patrons who clearly recognised her.

“Thank you, it’s appreciated.” 

“Grab a table then and ill be right over.” she pushed her way to the bar which looked to be made from a single, albeit large, piece of wood.

Karolus nodded and lowered Connor who was pretty much awake as soon as the noise hit them. He was beaming at the scene of the Inn. There were a lot of halflings it seemed. Almost everyone that acknowledged them did so with a smile and or wave.

“Where are we Karolus?” Connor pulled his chair closer to the table.

The Inn was well lit with wall torches and the few table candles that were lit. Two wooden candle chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Karolus was tall enough to reach the ceiling if on his tiptoes and so he made a mental note of where the chandeliers were.

“We have ale and honey water.” Stella put the drinks down giving Connor a playful slap on his hand as he reached for the ale. 

Karolus had to stop himself from finishing the ale in one, he was far thirstier than he first realised. Connor couldn’t down the honey water as it was too thick. But he seemed to be enjoying it.

“Stella, forgive me but I have no coin to return the favour. We are in a bit of a predicament and looking for somewhere to rest up.” he left the ale a quarter full, maybe water from here on he thought.

“Yer do look rougher than the badgers behind. I could have a word with the landlord to see if there's any work you can do around her for a bed and breakfast.” she gestured back towards the bar.

“That would be perfect, thank you.” He then paused.

“Why be kind to strangers?” he asked.

“Why not? Yer don’t look threatening, yer have soft eyes and a child on yer back. If yer were here to cause harm yer would ‘av failed.” Stella smiled and rubbed his shoulder.

“Fair point.” he said with a tired half smile. 

“Wait here, finish your ale and i'll go have a word with some folk.” Stella got up again.

A handful of musicians playing lyre’s and flutes sang songs of working the bakery and swimming the rivers, quite loudly, and folks danced merrily.

Karolus nodded and sipped at the remaining ale in his mug. Connor had already made his way to a table with sweet baked goods on it and was tucking in as any hungry youth would. Those about him were laughing and ruffling his hair. 

There was true joy in the Inn, folks were blissfully unaware of what was a few days' travel north of them. He relaxed into the wooden chair, and the sound of the tavern dimmed a moment. For a moment he thought he saw Glen walking through.

He knew it to be the vision of grief. But still he followed their stride until they disappeared behind the furthest pillar, Karolus raised his tankard to the memory. 

“If you are fine with washin up after this lot then theres a room and decent breakfast for thee and your brother.” Stellas words snapped Karolus out of his staring.

“I am, and thanks again.” he shook her hand and looked for Connor.

It was a breath of fresh air out how open and welcoming the Fuine Clan had been. This was by no means the whole clan but they had represented well. Karolus had spoken with Donald, the landlord of the establishment, and quickly been put to work. Collecting empty mugs and tankards, clearing the trays once Connor and his new halfling best friends had finished.

Hot water sat in an enchanted wash bucket, which made the washing up easier. This was not like Grey Rock. 

People were quick to have a conversation with him and pay for drinks and food for him and Connor. Some even helped with the work for no other reason than why not.

Karolus found himself putting on a fake smile and laughing when others laughed. He needed time to himself but wasn’t going to get it until the eve was over. So he did his part.

Stella had already left when Donald called for last orders. There was a mocking boo from the patrons. Connor was in the middle of arm wrestling for the tenth time. Betting pastries on the outcome. 

It was a small step up from the bedrooms back home. The furniture was better looked after. The bed cots had thick winter blankets on them and a feather stuffed pillow. 

For Connor it was like sleeping in the bed of the monarch. Pretty much as his head hit the pillow he was asleep. His first night in a tavern. Peaceful and clutching a strip of brown and black tartan he dreamed of hunting fairies with Glen.

After tucking him in, Karolus returned to the chores that were paying for the room. With everyone out it was quicker. The Inn was at peace, no music, just flickering candle light as Donald put out the wall torches and candle chandeliers.

Donald, was adept in minor cantrips which he quickly put to use cleaning up the drinking area and the mess left by the small feast that had been laid on. 

Karolus was quietly impressed, he knew of magic of course, but in Grey Rock it was very unheard of.  

“Well earned rest me thinks.” said Donald, finishing a glass of sweet mead and rubbing his bald head.

“Would it be ok if I stayed up a while? I’ll make sure the fire is out before retiring.” 

“Not a bother lad, feel free. Here, finish the rest if yer feel the need.” Donald passed the half full bottle to him.

“Thank you.”

“Oh and get a wash in the morn, you stink.” Donald patted him on the back and retired for the eve.

“Aye so I'm told.” he took the bottle and raised it in thanks.

Karolus took up a chair by the hearth and after a long look about the empty candle-lit tavern slumped into it and breathed out a long emotional sigh.

He took a large glug of the mead. It was sweet and warm but very welcoming. The fire wasn’t roaring but low and ambient. 

Tears made their way slowly down his cheeks, the beard soaking them up. It felt as if so much time had passed since they ran from Grey Rock. Their mother dead, Glen dead, and a force of Samos wandering the highlands, possibly in search of Connor.

It was the first time he had come up for air, and how it was needed. 

Seeing them lay on the floor as Iomadh-Ghlac burrowed beneath. A silky embrace reaching up around Glen and the look in their eyes, from one of strength and determination to one of docile and charmed.

Seeing Glen slowly pulled beneath the earth, wrapped in the promised death of Iomadh-Ghlac nearly broke him. He couldn’t get it out of his head. The look of fake happiness in their eyes as the enchantment of the fey creature took hold of them was frightening.

More mead was drunk, and deeply so. Since the fire his dreams had been filled with the smell of smoke, the smile of his mother, the copper eyes of Glencora and the bright blue of the wolf, Galwyn.

Tonight would be no different but at least it would be beneath a thatched roof and warm walls.

The tears stopped, it was strange, he didn’t feel as though he had been crying. He took a long deep breath and reached for his sword. No one had mentioned it all evening. Karolus didn’t unsheath it, now was not the time. But he felt its offer of comfort.

Come the dawn he and Connor would wash. Eat a hearty breakfast and then he would tell his younger brother everything.  

He sat until the bottle was finished and his head felt cloudy. Putting the fire out Karolus returned to his shared room and as soon as he lay upon the cot bed his tiredness was revealed. 

Moments later he was asleep, he dreamt at first of Glen and shared a kiss, but soon it turned and the nightmares took over.