Journey to Volmyr (2)

Garrick and Meetlemire travel through the last remnants of the Redwood Forest on an overcast day. The weather is grey and dreary, feeling void of colour. Despite this, Meetlemire stays happy and in high spirits, the opposite of Garrick's attitude.

Roughly a week has elapsed since Garrick became Runecarved, which has already taken a tremendous toll on him. Sleepless nights and physical and mental trauma plague him; his being feels like just giving up, but it won't, like his body is forcing itself to carry on against his will.

Meetlemire pipes up through the near silence.

"What's going on with you today, Garrick? You seem very different, like something is bothering you."

Garrick, rubbing his right thumb over the rune on his left palm, stops.

"Yeah, you're right. It's not easy to talk about...these runes. My mind is so frazzled, but I don't think it'll ever get better."

Meetlemire can hear the exhaustion in Garrick's voice, struggling even to speak but trying to mask it to some extent.

"Do you want to talk about it? I have big ears to match my nose, so I'll take it all in." Meetlemire chuckles before stopping himself, seeing as Garrick didn't chuckle along as well.

"I was killed just over a month ago in Redwood Forest during a guild quest." Garrick blurts out.

Meetlemire stares dumbstruck.

"An arrow through my neck." As Garrick points to the scar on his neck.

"A woman named Zxeralaki ripped the arrow through and watched me bleed out and die. I don't even know her, hate her or even care about finding her, but It was the last image I saw before I died, and her face is seared into my brain for some reason."

Garrick's voice becomes slightly hoarse, becoming emotional, talking out loud about his past.

"I woke up in a prison cell after I died. This old bastard named Jarathus brought me back just to experiment on me. A month of hell and these runes are the result; a demon is supposedly in these runes."

Garrick clenches his fists tight as Meetlemire listens intently, attempting to remain stoic.

"I didn't even have any magical ability before, and now, my body unleashes these insane spells I can't control that'll end up killing me. It's why I want to head to Volmyr; I decided to learn magic, learn about these 'primordial artefacts', and try to become a person I can be happy with."

A tear rolls down Garrick's nose before he wipes it away, coughs and retains some semblance of control.

"I didn't even mean to save you the first time I met you. I tried to leave, but the runes activated on their own."

Meetlemire is silent, unsure how to respond.

"But you made the decision to rescue me from the goblins, right?" Meetlemire hesitantly asks.

"...Yeah, you have a happy, go-lucky demeanour; it keeps me in check." Garick replies.

Meetlemire chuckles.

"You're a good man, Garrick. Don't let that mind warp what is a good deed or not. You saved my life twice, accident or not, I am alive because of you." Meetlemire responds strongly.

"As for the rest of it, you are carrying a burden most of us couldn't manage. Learning to control what you have now is the best option. My parents in Volmyr will be able to help you with magic. They used to be part of the Magic Academy for a long time, but they retired in the last few years, so getting back to teaching magic will do them some good."

Meetlemire notices a clearing to the left, near a stream.

"Let's take a break and relax for an hour. Get back in the right mindset, I think." He happily suggests to Garrick.

Garrick nods in agreement as Meetlemire steers the horse towards the clearing.

They spend time relaxing, snacking on whatever is in the food basket in the carriage. Garrick takes his flask to the stream and fills it with water, gulping the cold water. He walks back over, lying down against the carriage wheel.

"How are your wounds, Garrick? You seem to be moving pretty well today." Meetlemire says, surprised at his health progress.

"It aches, but I can swing a sword if I need to. One of the few things that make the past ordeal worth it." Garrick replies bittersweetly.

"How's your arm?" Garrick adds.

Meetlemire looks at the missing arm, moving it slightly.

"Better than I thought it would. I sometimes forget It's gone, reaching for things." He chuckles with a tinge of sadness. "I'm going to start practising magic too, Garrick. I don't want people to die because of my shortcomings."

"I already said-"

Meetlemire cuts Garrick off.

"I know and accept that, but I realise I need to be something more than just a cook. I'm going to tell my family what happened and bring them down to Volmyr permanently."

A smile of acceptance shows on Garrick's face.

"You seem pretty confident in your decision. You were adamant about not moving down to Volmyr permanently a few days ago." Garrick asks, intrigued. "Guess we've both been through a lot. Makes you really consider a lot, doesn't it?"

Meetlemire notices the sun high in the sky, poking through the grey clouds.

"Right, you are. This break did us good, but we should get moving again. Cover some ground before nightfall." Meetle says with energy.

He lifts himself with difficulty using his only arm into the driver seat of the carriage, Garrick sitting next to him.

"Do you think we'll make it safe to Volmyr? I kinda wish we had Kyra with us; she's a brutal woman but knows her stuff well. Dependable." Garrick says with uncertainty.

Meetlemire does well to put Garrick's doubts at ease.

"You're more than capable, Garrick. But worst comes to worst, we be careful. It'll add days to your journey, but it's better to be safe than sorry."

Garrick relaxes, breathing a sigh of relief as they continue their journey.

The Redwood Forest is behind them now. Standard green trees sparsely dot the landscape, with mountains that tower high into the sky, piercing the clouds in the distance. The sun descends, and a vibrant orange coats the landscape, indicating nightfall is soon.

"Not much light left, Meetle. Let's look for somewhere to camp." Garrick says.

Metlemire nods in agreement. After another twenty minutes, they find a place suitable for the night. They set up their gear, and Garrick prepares the campfire while Meetlemire sets up his tent.

"You can use the tent tonight, Garrick. We'll take a night each until we can buy you one of your own." Meetlemire suggests.

Garrick shakes his head.

"It's okay, I'd feel too uneasy. Besides, the weather's nice for sleeping under the stars." Garrick says. "I'd take you up on that offer if it was winter, though." Garrick adds, laughing slightly.

They finish setting up the campsite, settling in for the night, enjoying the company, eating food and chatting.

"So, how'd you end up living in Epoch Bastion, so far away from your parents?" Garrick, trying to make lighthearted conversation.

Meetlemire stops eating and thinks briefly.

"Well, the city of Volmyr doesn't have much of a focus on culinary arts, so I travelled up to Epoch Bastion to train. I had every intention of returning after, but I met my wife, and time seemed to fly by, and before I knew it, I was living up there permanently."

Meetlemire's demeanour turns dejected for a second, with Garrick noticing this.

"Got something on your mind you wanna chat about?" Garrick invited Meetlemire to open up.

"It's just the thought of explaining this all gives me a bad feeling in my stomach." Meetlemire replies.

The wildlife is in full swing now. The noise of animals in the trees and distance is a more lively place at night. The moon is high in the sky illuminating the surroundings.

"Why'd you decide to join the guild? A big decision to do something so dangerous." Meetlemire attentively asks.

Garrick's attention turns away from the conversation and toward the vicinity, then back to Meetlemire.

"Wasn't difficult to decide. If you can swing a sword, then there's guild quests available to you. Can even pick what job you want, seemed like a no-brainer for me, who needed money and had no skills." Garrick laughs.

Meetlemire stands up and stretches, pointing to his tent.

"Time for sleep, I think, Garrick." Meetlemire tiredly says. "You have a lot to offer. Don't sell yourself short, Goodnight, my friend." Meetlemire walks over to the tent and shuts the flap behind him.

Garrick smiles warmly. "Goodnight, Meetle."

End Chapter.