The First Proposition
BOOK ONE: The New World
CHAPTER 5: The First Proposition
The family of three was gathered around the fire when Arkyn approached. The youngest was sitting against a stump while the older two were sitting on crates they pulled from the cart. They had begun preparing supper before Arkyn first appeared from the road.
All of them were surprised at his detour to their camp and greeting the three in a rather formal tone. The only one unfazed was the horse behind them. They had tied the reins to a tree and it was currently preoccupied munching on the grass.
"Uh, hello. I am Jehdin and these are my sons." The father introduced himself back. "What brings you to our campsite?"
'Good, He questions because he is wary of the unknown, but they are not prone to murder at first sight of a stranger.' Arkyn watched their reactions closely as he approached, noting that only the older son looked displeased at his appearance.
Arkyn felt his ploy was working, so he didn't step any closer and began the next step of his plan.
"I uh, I saw the leaning wagon off the road there and the fire nearby. I thought I might join you three for the night, in exchange for repairing the broken segment of course."
Akron phrased his explanation as a self-invitation and favor, hoping to entice Jehda into letting him stay, and hoping to ease in some 'casual' discussions later the night.
He hoped to gain a bit of trust by giving them a hand, and then he could draw a lot of information out of them. Arkyn just had to make this all seem natural.
The old man looked at his kids for a moment before meeting Arkyn's eyes again. He was rather suspicious of the lone traveler, but Arkyn did in fact seem alone.
So after a moment of contemplation, he agreed.
"Uh sure, if you can spot a problem like that at a glance, then clearly you know what you're doing. Although how do you intend to repair it with just the contents of your small travel pack there?"
Arkyn had not thought of his traveling assortment as small, but then again, he had no need for food, water, or a tent to sleep inside at night. From a normal person's point of view, he must've seemed strange for carrying such a small bag
"Oh I don't have much left after my rather grueling experience from the mountains, but I am confident I can do a lot with a bit of this."
Arkyn raised a hand up to eye level and ignited a single strand of fire mana from his palm. If he used [Mage Sight], he would see an ethereal red string burn like a candle wick that stretched out of his circuit. Having so many years of practicing magic, it was hardly needed.
"It should only take me a mom-"
When the flames appeared, all three pulled something from their coats, reflecting light from the campfire. Blades were brandished in their hands, causing Arkyn to freeze.
The rugged-looking daggers were now ready to defend at a moment's notice. Even the young boy seemed ready to cut him if he got any closer.
Jehdin suddenly lost any trace of familiarity and spoke in a demanding tone. "Are you one of those Baron boys?! Here for more tribute? We said that's over now!"
Arkyn quickly extinguished his small flame and raised both hands up in surrender.
'I did not expect magic to be a trigger, especially to this degree.' Arkyn started to take a step back, but stopped as he didn't want to appear guilty for something and expose his backside to them at the same time.
"I don't know who this Baron is, but I swear I'm just a traveler. I mean no harm."
Jehdin read Arkyn's face to see if he was being genuine. He honestly could not tell, all the old man could see in the darkness of the night that Arkyn was dirty, weary, and fearful of what happened next.
The father let out a long sigh that seemed to make him deflate and age even further. Clearly he was in no better condition and sheathed the knife back onto his belt.
"Put them down, boys. I supposed if he was sent out here to maim us, he'd have started attacking from the start. Damn bastards, those hired thugs." Jehdin spat on the ground as he recalled the Baron's men and they sat back down on the crates and stump.
Arkyn let out his breath, not realizing he had been holding it the whole time. The tension seemed to drop once Jehdin said so, but noticed that the older son was still tightly gripping the handle. There was a slight tremble in his fingers that did not seem to fade.
'Okay, I'll try to not make that mistake again. He didn't tell me to leave yet, so I can still try to win them over. I will minimize the showy aspects of magic and fix that axis at least.'
Arkyn carefully set his bag down and started thinking. The forest was full of ingredients for making short-term repairs, he just needed to draw them out. Arkyn scanned the clearing and drew up a simple plan in his head.
He grabbed some dirt from and snow that had not melted entirely. By discretely mixing it with some heat from fire magic, he matted it around in his hand a few times. The watery mound in his hand transformed, becoming bouncy and almost clay-like.
He started infusing more fire into his hands, stopping when the temperature made his palms sweat. The makeshift clay became rougher and more firm after more handling.
Arkyn walked over to the cart, taking a glance over to the campfire to see they were still keeping a close eye on him.
The tension seemed to ease up, but any sort of niceties were gone now. The weapons now sat across everyone's laps, signaling they were not to be trifled with.
Arkyn ignored it and crouched under the wagon. While he was no longer in sight, he took the chance to use magic to a much greater extent.
Small pillars rose from the earth and lifted the wagon's weight off both the front and rear axis. While suspending the cart, Arkyn let the clay slide off his hand and used magic to make it wrap around the breaking segment.
It looked as though the clay came to life, latching on and shaping into a cylinder that tightened its grip until the axis appeared aligned. It looked as though the cart was unbroken now, but Arkyn knew it would fall apart after a few hours. The ring made of tough dirt was only meant to act as a bandage while he made something much stronger to hold it in place.
'Now I just need some glue.' Arkyn touched the still tacky droplets of sap on his shirt from hiding earlier and began looking for another tree that oozed the sticky substance.
He found a thick tree that was heavily leaking sap in between the cracks of bark. Arkyn took a slab of bark off the tree and began using it to catch sap into a pile. By scraping a rock against the exposed tree, he managed to gather multiple drops at a time.
The process was going to be long and arduous, so he let his mind wander while he worked.
After a few minutes though, he heard a twig break nearby and saw the youngest boy had left his stump and watched him closely. His knife was still clutched closely to his side, but he seemed more curious than anything.
Concerned of what Jehdin would think, Arkyn looked back to see he was actually by the cart now, inspecting Arkyn's progress so far. Only the oldest son did not move from his box, he seemed to be watching from the crates with a grim look on his face.
Arkyn turned to the boy, who took a step back but did not flinch at him. Arkyn showed him what he was doing with the rock and bark piece, giving a clear view of what his goal was.
The boy seemed fascinated and began to do the same on a nearby tree, using the back of his knife to scrape as Arkyn did. Pretty soon after, they pooled a handful worth of sap together and the boy showed off his work.
"I'm Pilm." The boy said while handing Arkyn his share with childlike pride and no fear.
Arkyn had to admit the boy had him beat, the knife had cut deeper into the tree trunk and made quicker work than him.
"Thank you Pilm. Can you grab the hammer from my bag and bring over your father? The handle is sticking right out the top of my bag."
Pilm did not question the request and did exactly that. He returned with his father and carried the hammer with both hands. Pilm had to carry the hammer by the head, utilizing all of his arm strength because of how young he was.
"You asked for me and for my son to bring a hammer?" Jehdin asked. His tone was flat and not exactly distrusting, but rather curious now too.
The longer he watched Arkyn work ceaselessly on the wagon, the less suspicious he felt at Arkyn's true motives.
Magic was a tricky thing to learn, even if it was a matter of powerful bloodlines. Arkyn showing off such constructive skills meant a lot of effort was placed in creating, not attacking others.
Skills in the craft could not lie.