The word wanderer

Feeling the tension in the air, the Elven girl, Kaitlynn, glanced between the two men nervously. She could sense the underlying currents of conflict between them, and she wasn't sure how to diffuse the situation.

"Come on now, let's not ruin the camaraderie around the campfire," she interjected, trying to ease the atmosphere with a forced smile. "Illeron, I'm sure he's was just teasing."

Illeron raised an eyebrow, seemingly amused by the sudden change in dynamic. "Oh, I know," he said, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "I can handle a bit of teasing, can't I, my friend?" he directed at Azrael, seemingly unfazed by the tension.

Azrael chuckled. "What was that you said that happened to you again?"

"Ah, it's a long story but I suppose we've all the time in the world, don't we?" He titled his head and flashed the girl a charming smile and then whispered to her. "Move closer. You might not want to miss my story."

Illeron leaned back, adopting a dramatic posture befitting his storytelling nature. "Ah, it's a long and wondrous tale," he began, his voice soft yet captivating. "A tale of daring adventures, treacherous encounters, and encounters with mystical beings beyond imagination. It all began when I got an letter..."

As Illeron began narrating, his words took on a rhythmic quality, almost as if he were weaving a spell with his voice. The crackling of the campfire seemed to dance in harmony with his tale, casting shadows that seemed to mimic the characters he described.

Kaitlynn's eyes sparkled with wonder as she listened, completely enthralled by the bard's storytelling prowess. Azrael couldn't help but feel a sense of captivation too, despite his initial skepticism.

The night wore on, and Illeron's tale unfolded like a tapestry of enchantment, drawing the three of them into a world of wonder and magic. With every word, the bard's vigor seemed to intensify, as if he drew strength from the very stories he spun.

As the stars painted the night sky with their celestial glow, Azrael found himself surprisingly at ease in Illeron's presence. The tension that had hung in the air earlier now dissipated, replaced by a shared sense of camaraderie and curiosity.

In that fleeting moment, under the starlit canopy of the forest, three souls bound together by fate found solace in the power of storytelling. And as Illeron's voice intertwined with the whispers of the night, they knew that their journey had only just begun.

At the end of Illeron's captivating tale, both Azrael and Kaitlynn exchanged uneasy glances. They couldn't deny the bard's skill in storytelling, but Azrael remained cautious, still suspicious of the circumstances that had brought them together. Illeron, noticing their discomfort, couldn't help but give them an amused look.

"You two don't have anything to say about my story?" he questioned with a playful grin.

Kaitlynn smiled awkwardly. "That's not it. Your tale was truly remarkable, Illeron. It's just that... we can't help but wonder about the circumstances of your arrival here. The woman who summoned you, did she specifically tell you to come to this place?"

"Indeed," Illeron confirmed, looking thoughtful. "But I must admit, things took an unexpected turn as soon as I arrived. I was attacked by a bunch of bandits at the entrance of the forest, and they stole my lute before stabbing me." He shook his head, recounting the unpleasant encounter.

Azrael's suspicion only deepened. "And you never thought for a second that this whole invitation might be some kind of trap?" he asked, his voice tinged with caution. "She could be a witch or something, luring you here to sacrifice you."

As Illeron contemplated the situation, his expression shifting from playful to serious, something seemed to click in his mind. His eyes widened, and he turned to look at both Kaitlynn and Azrael, as if a revelation had struck him.

He opened his mouth dramatically, his finger pointing at them in surprise, just as he did in his grand performances. Kaitlynn smiled knowingly, nodding her head in affirmation, while Azrael raised an eyebrow, curious about what the bard had realized.

Illeron's voice quivered slightly as he uttered the unexpected words, "Wait, you're a witch!" His face paled once again, realizing the irony of his previous lack of caution.

Kaitlynn couldn't help but facepalm in response to the bard's over-the-top reaction. She shook her head with a mix of amusement and exasperation, wondering how she had gotten herself into such a comical situation.

Azrael chuckled at the sight of Kaitlynn's facepalm, finding her reaction to Illeron's theatrics just as entertaining. "Don't worry," he reassured the bard with a smirk, "she won't turn you into a toad, or at least, not yet."

"Are you stupid, or are you acting?" Kaitlynn asked, shaking her head.

"I will have you know, my lady, despite the popular rumor among the people that I'm stupid, I am a very intelligent man," Illeron retorted in a pompous tone, crossing his arms across his chest. "Why, because my mother had told me that I, Illeron, the great bard, am, in fact, smarter and more intelligent than anyone she had come across."

"I guess your mom was bedridden for the last century then, because she had to be crazy to think that," Azrael interjected, earning an amused look from the girl.

Illeron's eyes widened in mock offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Ah, my dear friend, such cruel words! But worry not, I shan't let your lack of appreciation for my wit and intelligence deter me from gracing you both with my presence."

Kaitlynn chuckled at Illeron's theatrics, finding his playful banter rather endearing. "Oh, we're truly blessed to have the great Illeron by our side," she said with a hint of sarcasm, earning a playful bow from the bard.

For a moment, Azrael let his guard down. He knew full well that he could easily handle this quirky duo without any need for preparation. Under the canopy of stars and the crackling fire, he laughed again—a laughter that welled up from deep within him, a heartful and heartfelt sound that he had forgotten since that fateful day.

In the warmth of the campfire's glow, he felt a fleeting sense of peace and camaraderie. For this night, he wanted to pretend to be his old self—a man young and carefree, unburdened by the weight of his past and the shadows of revenge that had consumed him.

For this night, he was free.

Kaitlynn and Illeron exchanged puzzled glances as they saw the change in Azrael's demeanor. His eyes, which were once guarded and wary, now sparkled with genuine mirth. The hardened lines of his face seemed to soften, and he appeared more approachable, even friendly.

"I have to say," Illeron remarked with a grin, "that laugh suits you quite well, my friend. You should do it more often."

Azrael raised an eyebrow, amused by the bard's observation. "Oh really? And how often do you suggest I should burst into laughter?"

The bard shrugged playfully. "As often as your heart desires! Life is too short to hold back, my friend."

Kaitlynn smiled at the sight of Azrael's rare display of vulnerability. She had sensed the weight he carried, the darkness that surrounded him. But now, in this moment of shared laughter and camaraderie, she saw a glimpse of the boy he once was—a boy who knew how to embrace joy and freedom.

And so, they spent the night laughing and sharing stories around the crackling fire, each of them finding solace in the company of the others. For this night, the haunting memories and the looming darkness were held at bay, and Azrael allowed himself to believe, even if just for a moment, that there was hope for a brighter future.

***

As the morning star shyly peeked through the opening in the canopy, Illeron stirred from his slumber. The first thing he noticed was the cold morning air brushing against his skin. He shivered, sitting up and noticing that the fire had already burnt out.

He quickly sat up and rubbed his hands together before pressing them to his cheeks. "Aah," he melted at the warmth. "So supple and warm," he commented, looking around to find his companions.

He spotted the Elven girl curled up at the base of the tree, and he couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. She looked so peaceful, as if nothing could rouse her from her slumber.

Turning his attention to the other side, he noticed Azrael lying on the ground with his back facing him. He too was sleeping like a child, his mouth slightly open, snoring quietly.

The sight amused Illeron, who couldn't help but wonder if this was their normal sleeping position. He didn't dare to interrupt them, but it was time for their departure. With a playful grin, he decided to test the waters.

"Rise and shine, my slumbering warriors!" Illeron announced in a melodious voice, his words carrying through the morning air like a song. "The sun is up, and it's time to greet the day with all the vigor of a charging bull and the grace of a dancing butterfly!"