Stormlord, Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

The sky was tinted orange by the time the merchant team entered Seras. Isaac watched the Storm above, transfixed by the streaks of blue-white light dancing across the orange background. It was a beautiful scene, one which he could watch forever.

With only an hour of daylight left, Master Hamm’s first goal would be to secure lodgings at one of the city’s inns. Already, some of the residents—mostly children—were watching as the team made its way down the main thoroughfare. Master Hamm would only start selling his wares once he knew he had a place to stay for the night. Isaac waved cheerily at the youngsters who tagged along with the wagons.

Seras was much the same as he remembered. Houses lined the street, giving way to shops as they went further into the city. Other buildings, mostly two-story structures, stood along smaller roads and back alleys. Some houses appeared to be taller or shorter than others due to the rise and fall of the land. As with most small cities, the buildings here were not packed too close together; Isaac felt like he could suffocate in the larger cities because of the close proximity of the buildings. He liked open spaces; too many people in one place unnerved him.

The center of the city was a clear circular area, paved with swirling patterns in the cobblestones. It was more decorative than functional; its real purpose was to allow all the people of the city to gather in one large, open area. Already, lanterns hung from posts around the circle, illuminating the staging grounds for what would later be the place for festivities.

Isaac glanced at a house standing on a rise bordering the circle. It belonged to his old friend Marlow, the man who had taken him in so many years ago. Isaac had shown up on the man’s doorstep one night ten years ago, his only possessions being the clothing he was wearing and a small memento from his father.

Marlow had been like a father to Isaac since then. Isaac had regretted leaving him behind in Seras. He had other friends from his adolescence here as well, namely Claire. He still did not know how he was going to approach her.

The wagons pulled to a halt outside a wide building. A stable had been built next to the main building. A sign depicting a blue bird sitting on a tree branch hung above the doorway. It was the Bluebird Inn, generally regarded as the best in the city. It was not only a place of rest, but also served as a pub. People from out of town were not the only ones to frequent its common room.

Master Hamm huffed as he climbed down from his wagon and entered the inn. Brand sat like a statue as they waited, giving no indication of his thoughts. The man rarely made extended conversation, especially in unfamiliar territory.

After several minutes of waiting, Master Hamm and another gentleman of roughly the same shape and size emerged. The innkeeper, Heb, was a jolly fellow, letting out a deep-bellied laugh nearly every time he spoke. Isaac remembered him well; he was the one who allowed Isaac his first taste of ale, although Marlow had had a fit when he later found out. Still, Heb was a sincere man with good intentions.

“All right boys,” Hamm began, “we’re staying here tonight. Master Heb here will send out some of his workers to take care of the horses and wagons; Jensen, I want you to supervise them.” Isaac knew that Master Hamm simply did not trust anyone who did not work for him, but Heb had probably not noticed.

The rest of the team dismounted from the wagons, bringing their packs with them inside. The common room was filled with the familiar scent of ale, as a handful of men had already settled in for the night. Booths sat against the walls while circular tables dominated the center of the area. A long, polished counter stood against the wall to Isaac’s left. Across from him was a door leading into the kitchen, and the staircase was situated in the far right wall. A small, portable stage stood to one side and could be moved for a performance.

“All our rooms are on the second floor,” Heb pointed out. “The last four rooms on the left side of the main hallway will belong to your group.” Several of them groaned; no one liked sharing a room after traveling for so long. Isaac, however, had no intention to stay in the inn. He had a real home to go to.

The rest of the group headed up the stairs to get their things settled. Isaac made no move to follow them. Master Hamm shot him a glare.

“I suppose you think you’re staying somewhere else tonight, hmm?” Hamm questioned.

Isaac nodded. “That’s correct,” he answered. “If that is all right, of course.”

“Yes, yes, it’s fine,” Hamm said, waving a hand nonchalantly. “This is your home, after all. Just don’t cause any trouble for me.” Isaac suspected the man was also glad to have one less person to pay for.

Isaac grinned, nodded to Heb, and exited the building. More people were beginning to gather in the circle, although the festival would not begin for another hour or more. Isaac strode confidently toward Marlow’s house, ignoring the scowling eyes that tracked his progress. Apparently there were some who did remember him quite well.

He walked up the path leading to the front door and stopped. He knocked and waited; silence greeted him. He knocked again, pounding the door with his fist. Marlow was not growing any younger, and Isaac wanted to make sure he was heard.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” yelled a voice from inside. “Whatever the problem is, I’m sure it can wait a few more seconds.” Isaac waited for the familiar sound of locks clicking. Finally, the door opened away from him, revealing a tall man using a cane for support. His hair and beard were completely white, but his wrinkled face showed the strength of a younger man.

Marlow stood still for a moment, appraising the man standing before him. “Isaac?” he said slowly. A grin split his face, creating more furrows in his skin. “You’re back. I can’t believe it.”

Isaac opened his mouth to speak, but was suddenly gripped in a fierce hug. Marlow had surprising strength for a man of his age.

“It’s good to be back,” Isaac said through clenched teeth. Finally, Marlow released him, and Isaac could breathe again.

They stood in the doorway for a moment. Isaac could see Marlow sizing him up, judging how much Isaac had changed with an experienced eye. Marlow had always been one to examine the actions of others; it was a habit that he had picked up in the past, though he had never told Isaac exactly how he had.

“Well come in, boy,” Marlow said, grabbing him by the arm. “Don’t stand in the street gawking all day.”

Isaac followed the older man into the house, moving through a spacious living room into a well-furnished dining room. Not much had changed in the house, although the extra chairs that had once surrounded the dining table were now gone.

He took a seat and waited as Marlow walked into the kitchen. He limped slightly on his right leg, although Isaac suspected the cane was more out of propriety than real necessity. He had seen the man be quite spry in the past.

Marlow reemerged with two glasses of a dark red liquid. Isaac cocked his head quizzically at the sight.

“What?” Marlow asked.

“I never knew you drank much wine,” Isaac answered.

Marlow snorted. “Just because I don’t drink the stuff doesn’t mean I can’t own it. Besides, this is a special occasion: You have returned, and the Summer Festival is tonight. I have cause to celebrate.”

Isaac accepted the cup and took a sip; it was quite rich. Marlow had always frowned on drinking, finding it a rather unrefined activity. Isaac found the irony of wine being unrefined quite amusing.

“So,” Marlow said at last, “how have you been, Isaac?”

It was a simple question—for anyone but Marlow. He would want to know every detail of Isaac’s journey since leaving Seras.

“I’ve been well,” he said. “I’ve learned a lot these past three years. Not just about trading, but other things. Important things.”

He idly reached into his pocket and pulled out a smooth round object, no more than an inch and a half across. He often rolled it around in his hands when pressed into conversation.

“I see you still have that memento your father gave you,” Marlow said, nodding to it. The gemstone had a polished blue-violet surface, ingrained with white lines radiating from the center. It reminded him of the Storm, like someone had captured its essence in this piece of finery.

Isaac nodded absently. “Of course. I haven’t been able to let it go, not yet.”

“Did you find anything out about your parents out there?”

“No,” Isaac said solemnly, shaking his head. “I don’t really know what I expected to find; we didn’t even spend much time in Aldera. Seras is one of the first stops now that we’re back. Master Hamm intends to make his way north, to Therin.”

“Will you go with them?” Marlow asked.

“I don’t know yet,” Isaac replied. He returned the memento to his pocket. His father had never told him what it was, only saying that it was important. Soon after, his parents had been killed in one of the first conflicts of the war. Isaac still remembered, ten years later, his mother’s lifeless gaze staring up at him….

He shook his head, determined to put such thoughts out of his mind. He did not like to dwell on the past. Still, Isaac had harbored a tiny hope that maybe, even after all this time, that his father might still live.

Banishing his thoughts, Isaac took a deep breath, preparing to ask the question that had been weighing on his mind for the past few months.

“Marlow,” he said, “how is Claire?”

The other man sat still for a minute, idly swirling his wine. “She’s fine, last I knew,” he said. He caught Isaac’s eyes. “She left, Isaac. Almost a month ago, she decided it was her time to see the world. Like you, Isaac.”

“I see,” Isaac murmured, looking into his wine. He really had not known what to expect. He and Claire were the same: restless, curious. He should have realized she would not stay for long in Seras.

“Did she go alone?” he asked.

Marlow sighed. “I’m afraid she did, son. She left a note for her parents and was simply gone one morning.”

“That foolhardy girl,” Isaac said, gritting his teeth. “She should have known better. There are always dangers out there: bandits, animals, the war. Why would she do something so foolish?”

“Oh?” Marlow said, raising one eyebrow. “You mean to tell me you wouldn’t have done the same? I recall quite well how insistent you were to leave when you were her age. I barely got you to wait a year longer before you took off with that merchant.”

Isaac felt his cheeks growing hotter. He went back to looking at his wine. Marlow was right, of course. If the old man had not stopped him, Isaac would have left Seras many times in the past by himself. Finally, when he had turned twenty, Isaac had been able to convince Marlow to let him go.

“I just wish she could have waited a little while longer,” Isaac said. “Do you know where she’s headed?”

Marlow nodded. “She said she wanted to go to Therin, to try to make a difference there. She wants to travel, yes, but that girl has big aspirations too. Sometimes it seems as though she wants to help the whole world.”

Isaac smiled. Claire’s passion for helping others rivaled that of her temper. She had always been small, and more often than not had gotten into fights over her size. However, she could not stay angry for long and would always end up apologizing for her actions.

“You said you’ll be traveling that way too, didn’t you?” Marlow asked.

“Yes,” Isaac said. “But it will probably be a good three months before we make it to Therin.”

Marlow rubbed his chin, thinking. “A man from Therin just arrived here several days ago, actually; a soldier, from the look of him.”

“What is a soldier from Therin doing here?” Isaac asked, scowling. Soldiers were never a good sign. “And why is he alone?”

“I’m not sure. He came in from the south, just as you did. I suspect he is on his way back to Therin. He was fairly secretive about his purpose here, but I don’t believe he means us any harm.”

Isaac’s scowl deepened. He knew that soldiers from the south had been the ones to destroy his home, but he found it hard to trust any of them. Many of the soldiers he had met fought for the pay, not their king or country.

“I know that look,” Marlow said. “Don’t be thinking about getting into any trouble with that man. He’d chew you up and spit you out in a heartbeat.”

“I would never go that far,” Isaac said. “You know I would rather have a debate than a brawl.” It was true. Brand had taught the older members of the team the basics of fighting with a sword. Isaac had picked it up fairly quickly, but he still preferred finding a solution through conversation, not sheer force. Unfortunately, it always seemed that not many people shared his opinion.

He turned and looked out the window behind him. The sun was dipping behind the horizon, casting elongated shadows across the land. The Summer Festival would begin in an hour or so. He wondered if they were having the same celebration in Therin. They most likely were not; the rumors said that groups of refugees were trickling into Therin daily, and it was growing increasingly difficult to find a place to live there. He only hoped Claire was safe.

He downed the last of his wine and stood. “I’m going for a walk,” he said.

“All right,” Marlow said. “I will see you later then, Isaac. Make sure you enjoy yourself tonight. Don’t be wallowing around now.”

Isaac stopped at the door. “I’ll do my best,” he said, stepping out into the street.



Marlow stood in the doorway for a time after Isaac had left. The boy—man, rather, although he found it hard to view him as such—had always been reckless and headstrong. Although, Marlow could not fault him for being so; he too had been like that in his youth.

It was clear that Isaac had grown much over the course of the past three years. He was still his usual self, but Marlow could see the signs in the way he spoke and acted. Yes, Isaac had grown out of the boy he had been. Marlow wondered how, and when, it had happened. Maybe traveling across the lands with that merchant had been a good idea after all.

A figure appeared in the doorway of the Bluebird Inn across the square. It began moving about in a seemingly random, inconspicuous manner, but Marlow discerned that the stranger was making its way toward his house. From the way it walked, he knew it was a man—an old friend of his, no less.

“Welcome back, my old friend,” Marlow said as the man drew closer.

Brand grunted, his gnarled face showing a scowl, meaning he was pleased. People had always mistaken Brand for a grumpy fellow, but Marlow knew the truth about the man.

“Marlow, you old dog, you’re still alive?” Brand joked, giving a raspy chuckle. He gripped Marlow’s hand firmly and shook it.

Marlow smiled. Brand was a friend from days long gone by, when they had been young men traveling the world, much like Isaac. “Well, don’t just stand there. Come in already.”

He led Brand to the dining room and offered him the seat Isaac had recently vacated. He poured a glass for the other man; he still had some of his left from before. With a grunt, he lowered himself back into the chair.

“So, how have you been my friend,” Marlow asked, sipping his wine.

“Well enough,” Brand replied. He took a large swig of wine and managed a smile. “I’m not getting any younger, that’s for certain.”

Marlow nodded. “Neither am I. I trust Isaac hasn’t given you any trouble over the years.”

Brand sat quietly for a moment. “That boy is something else, Marlow,” he said finally. “He’s one of the most polite young men I’ve ever met, but he won’t hesitate to give his opinion. He may be too clever for his own good, sometimes.” He paused. “He’s a good man, though. I’ll be sorry to see him go.”

“I’m not quite sure what he will do,” Marlow added. “I think he wants to go to Therin immediately. How he intends to do so, I haven’t a clue.”

They fell silent, each to his own thoughts. “The world is changing, Marlow,” Brand said grimly. “I have seen it. This civil war in Aldera is just a start. There is tension in other countries as well. There has been talk of strange things happening in the night. I’ve even heard rumors of rogue Vorkyr leaving their herds and attacking people. It’s crazy, I tell you.”

Marlow frowned. “I’ve been hearing the same things, although I am more concerned about the future of this nation at present. What have you heard about the war?”

“There have been whispers of a new weapon in the south,” Brand said. “The northern forces have been holding the frontlines, but something has changed recently, according to my sources. These are not good times to go out alone.”

Marlow wondered how Claire was faring. He cared for the girl greatly; her closeness to Isaac had made her something of a daughter to him. He could not let Isaac go alone to Therin. Maybe, if he could get another word in with that soldier, he could persuade him to go with Isaac….

He glanced out the window. Darkness had descended on the city, and a bright orange glow was emanating from the square as men prepared for the coming festivities.

“Well, we can gossip and worry like a couple of elderly ladies later,” Marlow said, rising with some effort. He really was feeling old today. “I say we go enjoy the Summer Festival like we used to.”

Brand chuckled, standing and following his friend to the door. “I always did like coming to Seras at this time of year. The people here are always so friendly.”

They stepped outside, and Marlow pulled the door closed behind them. Lanterns ringed the square, and tables and chairs had been set up around the edges for the feast that would take place. Like Isaac, Marlow enjoyed the atmosphere of a small city; almost everyone knew each other, making for a safer and healthier environment.

He took a deep breath of the warm night air. “Well, let’s get moving,” he said. “We wouldn’t want to miss the opening.” He started forward, Brand at his side. On nights like this, Marlow felt it was appropriate to stop worrying for a while and just enjoy life.

After all, he would have plenty of time to worry later.

Stormlord, Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

Lightning flashed across the sky.

Wind howled, rolling across the grassy hills. The noonday sun shone high above, peeking through the passing clouds. Bright flashes arced among the clouds. The wind and lightning were common most days, although rain was not as abundant.

Isaac perched on a large rock jutting from the hillside, shaded by the Seras Woods behind him. Below, a group of men moved about a circle of four wagons, preparing the midday meal. Bird songs drifted through the trees to him, combining with the sounds of horses whinnying and men cooking. As always, Isaac felt that there was a certain music to the noises around him, and the lightning overhead seemed to dance to the rhythm.

He returned his attention to the tattered and faded piece of paper he held delicately in his hands. As he had done every day for the past three years, Isaac read through it, tracing the flowing words that he had committed to memory long ago. He remembered well the hand that had written it, and the girl to whom that hand belonged. Of course, she would not be a girl any longer. She might not even be his friend anymore, after the way he had left.

With a sigh, Isaac carefully refolded the note and tucked back into the pouch hanging on the side of his belt. He should have been helping the others set up, but they had newer, younger assistants now. He was not lazy, but he had needed a few minutes alone to think before they arrived to their destination.

A pudgy man stood in the center of the group of wagons, pointing in different directions and giving orders. Master Hamm—suitably named, in Isaac’s opinion—was a merchant of some renown. Three years ago, just after Isaac’s twentieth birthday, the man had visited his home city, Seras, selling his wares. At that time, Isaac wanted nothing more than to see the world, and so he decided to join the man’s team.

Now, they had come back to Seras. He wondered if Master Hamm remembered leaving the city with a surprise new apprentice. Isaac was an odd case; he had no aspirations to be a merchant. It would be a stable living once people knew who he was, true, and he could travel all he wanted. But the life of a merchant did not suit him, he felt.

He stood and stretched, watching again as lightning danced among the clouds, giving the perpetual appearance of impending rain, although such was not the case. It was the Storm, Isaac had been taught; the innate life force that ran through the world and all things in it. Very rarely were the skies ever completely clear—not that he would want such a thing. Days without the Storm’s presence were odd. Everything seemed to lose a touch of color, making the world look almost bland; lifeless, even.

Sometimes, he wondered what it must be like to be lightning, to be completely carefree, not worrying about what he was going to eat or where he was going to sleep. It was an odd thought, he knew, but he had always been something of a dreamer. His daydreams had gotten him into trouble before, when he was younger, but he had always had Claire then to back him up.

Now, he was not so sure he still had her. She had been his best friend growing up, despite the fact that he was four years her senior. They had been like siblings, reinforced by the fact that Isaac himself had no parents. He knew he had hurt her when he ran off, and so she had simply left a note for him. Reading over the note had become a ritual for him, a reminder of the life he had left behind.

He broke out of his reverie and started down the hill. The meal would be almost ready by now, and Isaac wanted to get a few things in order before they entered the city tonight. Master Hamm would not like it, but Isaac had no intention of staying with the rest of the team for the evening.

As he approached the group, he took note of the other members of the team. Master Hamm’s second, Brand, was a large, grizzled man. Isaac suspected that he had once been a soldier, but Brand never spoke of his past like others in the crew did. Out of the seven other members, most were around Isaac’s age, although the youngest, Kabe, was just over sixteen. He was the most recent addition, and so the more menial tasks fell to him.

They were a close-knit group, for the most part. Brand generally tried to keep up his grumpy appearance, but sometimes he let a smile slip through. Master Hamm was content to let Brand keep the apprentices in line, although he sometimes joined them at night when they conversed about the day.

Brand and Kabe stood in the center of the camp, tending to a pot standing on a grate above the fire. The older man glanced toward Isaac and grimaced; it was almost a smile from him. He spoke softly to Kabe, and then approached Isaac.

“Did you enjoy your break?” Brand asked sarcastically.

“Why, yes, I did,” Isaac replied. He was accustomed to this kind of banter with Brand—preferred it, in fact, to the posturing Master Hamm was prone to sometimes.

“Go help the other lads make sure everything’s in order,” Brand said. “Can’t have our products looking like they’ve been sat on.”

“Right away,” Isaac said, moving to enter the back of the covered wagon closest to him.

He climbed inside and found Jensen, a man the same age as Isaac, carefully arranging large bags of seeds. Seras relied on merchants to bring seeds for growing crops; the soil in these parts was inadequate for growing most things.

Jensen turned and frowned at Isaac. “Nice of you to join me.”

“I can’t let you have all the fun, now can I?” Isaac said cheerily. He and Jensen had butted heads several times over the years, but Isaac usually let any disparaging remarks go.

“Well, I’m just about finished here,” Jensen said. “Why don’t you go see if Hamm needs any help in the other wagons?”

“Suits me.” Isaac leaped out of the wagon and started around the circle, stopping to pat one of the horses on the side. He was in no hurry; Hamm would not move until he had eaten his fill, and Seras was not going anywhere. He almost wished he could put it off, but it was his home, after all.

At least, it was the closest thing he had to a home. Despite his cheerfulness, he was unsure how the city people would react to his homecoming. Would they even remember him? If they did, would they welcome him back? Or did they think he had left to follow a foolish dream? That seemed to have been the popular opinion when he had left. Even Claire had been opposed to the idea, although he knew she would have gone with him, if she had been older.

He could not afford to worry about the past; it would only make him more agitated and uncertain, something he had been feeling a lot recently. Moving on to the back of the lead wagon, he found Master Hamm rapping his knuckles on the wooden frame, supervising two apprentices as they arranged products in tidy rows. Beyond seeds, Master Hamm sold a variety of other items, including wines and clothing from distant lands, as well as a dozen or so “treasures,” as he called them. They were, in fact, souvenirs he had acquired along the road, but some people, like Isaac, liked to collect useless ornaments.

“Make sure those labels are visible, boys,” Hamm ordered. He turned to Isaac and frowned. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out, sir,” Isaac said, flashing a smile. The portly man’s frown deepened.

Hamm shook a finger at Isaac. “You had better keep that wit of yours in check today, boy,” he grunted. Isaac wondered why Hamm always addressed those younger than himself as “boy.”

“I don’t want you angering any of my customers,” he went on. “I need a good sale here, or else I might have to let a few of you go.” The statement was, of course, an empty threat, but Isaac took it in stride and did not respond like he normally would. The merchant was not a bad man, but he certainly was not very amiable. Except to customers; those he could always be cheery with.

“Don’t worry about me, Master Hamm,” Isaac replied. “I won’t say a word to anyone I don’t know in the city.” For once, he was being completely honest with Master Hamm. Isaac had no intention of drawing too much attention to himself. However, despite his best efforts, attention always seemed to find him.

Hamm shook his head. “Tell me when the meal is ready,” he said, turning back to the men working in the wagon.

Isaac walked away from the wagon. It appeared that there was nothing for him to do at the moment, besides sitting on his hands waiting for lunch. His attention began to drift to the Storm overhead again. He never could understand what was so intoxicating about it; perhaps it was the mythos behind it.

Taking care to be quiet, he started up the slope on the south side of the camp. The landscape here was hilly and rocky in some parts, but grass covered the majority of the ground. It was difficult getting wagons through, for even with the road they had to go up and down constantly. Too much of that activity could put strain on the horses.

In the distance, Isaac could see the city. It had been built in a relatively flatter location, but parts of it still rose and fell with the land. It was not a large city by any means, but it was the most populous town for many miles in this region of south-eastern Aldera.

More clouds hovered above the city; the Storm was stronger where there was life. One would think that larger cities would be completely shaded, but sunlight always managed to shine through. It was as if the Storm knew that light was required for life to continue, and so it achieved an unnatural balance.

Movement to his left caught his attention, and he turned to see what it was. A large group of creatures was moving rapidly across the hills, heading northward. They were not too far away to make out the distinctive blue-green scales, red feathers, and hunched forms.

Isaac watched them, curious. Vorkyr were reclusive creatures, typically emerging at dusk. They traveled in herds, much like cattle, and tended to ignore humans entirely. Recently, rumors from the north said that Vorkyr had been seen attacking people, but Isaac tended not to put much stock in rumors. He had only seen the creatures a handful of times, and agreed with the idea that they were harmless.

They were exotic looking, though. Reptilian in appearance, but covered with feathers along their backs and heads, they resembled a cross between a bird and a lizard. Their beaks were lined with blunt teeth for grazing, although Isaac did not doubt that they could more than likely crush a man’s arm.

What Isaac found most fascinating about them was the reaction of the Storm. Herds of Vorkyr attracted it just as much as a large city. Isaac watched as groups of clouds clustered together, allowing the lightning in the sky to stay directly above the traveling animals. He had always wondered if, perhaps, they were more than just another strange species that roamed the world.

He heard the grass behind him rustle, and Kabe stood beside him moments later. The youth stood still for a moment, taking in the sight of the Vorkyr herd.

“What are they doing?” Kabe asked.

“I’m not quite sure,” Isaac answered, smiling at the boy’s curiosity. Isaac had always liked Kabe’s ability to question all things, something Isaac himself often did. It was not enough to see something; he needed to know the why.

“I thought they didn’t come out during the day,” Kabe continued. “What do you think it means?”

Isaac was pondering that same question. It was not the first time he had seen them out before, but that had always been an hour or so after dawn or before dusk, never at midday.

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” It probably was. He hoped. Isaac did not like to not know what was going on around him. However, no answers would be coming forth this time, so he was not going to let it eat at him.

The Vorkyr entered a patch of trees and disappeared from sight. Isaac watched the lightning high overhead, marking the path that the Vorkyr were following. At least they still avoided going near the city; he could only imagine what people would think if the herd charged down the streets.

“Come on,” Isaac said, turning back toward the camp, “let’s go eat. I actually am quite hungry.”

Kabe nodded and trotted behind Isaac. Hamm sat in an unfolding chair, eating from a fine plate; the man really did enjoy his niceties. The others sat in random spots on the grass, eating out of durable metal dishes. Brand and Kabe had prepared a simple stew for today’s meal, knowing that once they reached Seras they could eat their fill at one of the inns.

Isaac served himself and sat with his back against a wagon wheel. Kabe joined him, and the two ate in silence for several minutes. Finally, Kabe put his spoon down and looked at Isaac.

“So, is it true that you are from Seras?” Kabe asked.

“Perhaps,” Isaac answered, chuckling. The boy really was curious about everything.

“Are you excited to be going home?”

Isaac took a moment to finish his last bit of stew. “In some ways, I am. But I’m also nervous; I haven’t seen these people in a few years.” He regarded Kabe. “Where did you hear that piece of information, anyway?”

“It was just some idle talk one night, that’s all,” Kabe said.

“Well, it isn’t a well-guarded secret, so I don’t mind,” Isaac said.

Kabe nodded and quietly went back to his stew. The wind picked up for a few moments, providing a bit of cool relief in the dry summer air. Summer was important in Seras; it was a time to celebrate the lengthened days and good health. In fact, if Isaac remembered correctly, today was the summer solstice. It meant the Summer Festival started tonight.

Isaac smiled to himself. Master Hamm would benefit from the festivities that would take place tonight, as the city people would be more willing to buy more than they really needed. It would also be easier for Isaac to slip away and go about his own business.

Presently, the group finished with their meal and prepared to break camp. Kabe cleaned up the dishes as Brand supervised the preparation of the wagons. Master Hamm had already taken his place in the driver’s seat of the lead wagon, and was waiting for the others to finish up.

Isaac climbed into the seat of the last wagon beside Brand, who was already holding the reins. Master Hamm called out to the group, and the procession headed out, falling into a single file line on the winding road.

Isaac stole one last look at the grove of trees that the Vorkyr had disappeared into. The collection of Storm had moved on, meaning the herd had continued its journey north. Isaac knew the team would be heading that same direction in a couple of days.

Following the Storm.