Chapter 770: The Stranger in the Red Tent

The sun’s light heated the sand until it burned as the grains slipped through Titania’s sandals. The air itself was so dry that it sucked the moisture from her mouth with every breath. They had traded a cave full of cool air and water for a horizon of endless sand dunes and air so hot that it shimmered in the distance.

And yet, for all the discomforts, Titania was not perturbed. She had hated the absolute darkness of the cave and was glad to be walking under the light of the sun. But more than that, for the first time since she had set out from her home in Olduun, she wasn’t worried.

Anxiety had crept its way into her heart when she had traveled with the Clarus caravan. Naomi had tried to reassure her every night. And for the most part, Titania had felt safe with her guardian, but there had always been some level of worry that something could go wrong so deep in the desert.

When the Midnight Sun had struck, Titania’s worst fears had been confirmed. All the words of reassurance Naomi had tried to instill in her had fallen apart like dust in the rain.

“How are you holding up?” Stryg glanced back at her.

“I’m great.” She wiped the sweat off her brow and saluted.

“Yeah… If you need to take a break, just tell me.”

“No, I can keep going, I promise.”

“Kid. You don’t need to impress me.”

“But I can do this,” she insisted.

He looked up at the pale blue sky and his pupils dilated while his irises expanded until they covered the whites of his eyes. It reminded her of a painting of an owl back home. “We’re not too far from an oasis, I think. An hour or so. Think you can make it?”

“Definitely,” she nodded, though her legs were aching for a bit of respite. She was going to match his pace, no matter what. Only a few weeks ago, she wouldn’t have minded taking a break or letting down her tutors. She had grown accustomed to the disappointment in the eyes of her teachers and parents, but now, even the thought of disappointing her new—albeit temporary—teacher twisted her stomach. He thought she was extraordinary and Titania would be damned before letting down his expectations.

“Good.” He tilted his head and stared at an unremarkable blue spot in the sky. “This way.”

“What are you looking at?” She couldn’t help but ask as she followed him up another dune that appeared no different than the rest.

“The stars,” he replied off-handedly.

“What stars?” She looked up and squinted, wondering if she had somehow missed one.

“They hide in the daylight, but the stars never truly leave. They’re still there.”

“You can see them?”

“And read them, too. That’s how I know where the oasis is.” He shrugged, “That and I have a knack for finding my way even when lost.”

“That’s so cool.” She beamed.

“...Yeah, I guess it kinda is,” Stryg said as if he had never quite thought of it like that before.

As the minutes passed by, Titania found herself staring at Stryg’s back as they walked. The Tribe Slayer had seemed scary at first. Somewhat cold. Distant, certainly. But now she knew better. Even if he tried to hide it behind a brusque exterior, she knew he was kind.

“Hey, Master?”

“Kid, I already told you, I’m not your master. Just Stryg is fine.”

“But you're my magic teacher and I’m your apprentice.”

“I’m teaching you a little magic, that’s it. That doesn’t make me your master or you my apprentice. Didn’t you have tutors back in Olduun?”

“Yeah, but they weren’t prime mages. I bet you could beat them all up by yourself.”

“That’s not the point.”

“You didn’t say you couldn’t.” She grinned at her small triumph. “How many mages could you fight at once?”

“A lot, I don’t know. Does it matter?”

“What about 100?”

“A 100 mages?”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded.

Stryg paused for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing slightly in thought. “It depends how strong they would be. Adepts? In the dark with the element of surprise… I could pick them off one at a time. Half would be dead before they would even notice I was there.”

“I bet you would be like kashaw!” She punched the air. “And then wham!” She kicked an imaginary enemy. He corrected her form, straightening her leg and posture without even thinking about it. “And then you’d use that cool sword to beat up the rest.”

“Krikolm doesn’t really beat up people.”

“Kree—what?”

He smiled wryly. “Krikolm. It is the sword of my ancestors. My family’s legacy.”

“It’s the sword of the gods?” Titania stared at the sword hanging from his hip. The white hilt seemed to almost shine in the sunlight.

“Different side of the family.”

“Oh. Like other gods?”

“My mother isn’t a god. Well, one of them is.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“You have more than one mom?” She stared at him wide-eyed. “How?”

“It’s complicated. I guess all gods kind of are. Technically, I suppose she is my step-mother.”

“That’s so cool. I wish I had a goddess step-mother,” Titania said, gold eyes bright with excitement.

“Is that right?” He scoffed, though there was only warmth in his voice.

“Hey, how do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“That.” She pointed at his feet. Stryg had opted to forego sandals or boots of any kind. His bare feet sank into the sand with every step he took, but they never left a footprint behind.

“I don’t know. I sort of just do.”

“Can you teach me?”

“Not something that can be taught.”

“God stuff?”

“God stuff.”

“Oh.” Titania tried to hide her disappointment but failed.

“Sorry, kid.” Stryg ruffled her hair, eliciting a small giggle from her. When he was sure she was alright, he turned and kept walking.

Titania ran after him, for despite the heat and the ache in her legs, she knew that so long as she was with him, everything would turn out okay.

~~~

Sure enough, Stryg had been right. The oasis sat nestled at the base of three dunes. The sand mounds protected it from the harsh winds, allowing several trees to grow at the edge of the water. The shade of the trees in turn allowed smaller flora to flourish.

It was a perfect shelter from the sea of sand and the scorching sun. The only problem was that they weren’t the only ones. A small caravan had stopped at the other edge of the oasis. Stryg counted almost thirty or so fully garbed women and men setting up camp and watering their horses.

Though they tried to appear harmless, without a weapon in sight, Stryg noticed the details. The way they glanced at their blind spots as they crouched down. How they always kept their hands close to their sides, where no doubt they carried concealed weapons. But what tipped Stryg off the most was the scent of alchemy that wafted from several of them. They had dabbled with various alchemical ingredients recently. Yet no one gave the red mages any deference, which hinted at the fact that they were all equals. Battlemages, the lot of them.

The underground river had taken Stryg and Titania far off their course to Olduun. They were still a few days away from the Great City, but it would still take a day or two before they crossed any major roads. So why was there a caravan full of battlemages all the way out here in the middle of nowhere?

Stranger still, at the center of the small army of tents was a large tent made of deep red fabric. It attracted the attention of any who laid eyes upon it, yet no one had come out from the tent since Stryg and Titania had arrived. Though that didn’t stop the battlemages from keeping a subtle patrol around the tent. Whoever was in there was somebody important. The only question was to whom.

“Water!” Titania ran to the oasis the moment she laid eyes upon it.

“Kid, wait!” Stryg called out, but Titania was already running down the hill.

The black-garbed battlemages tensed at Titania’s abrupt appearance. She reached the edge of the oasis and dipped her head in the water before pulling back and breathing in relief. “I’m alive!”

Titania turned to call out to Stryg at the top of the dune, but was surprised when she found him standing right behind her, his eyes glued on the tents across the oasis.

“The water is so clear, you’ve gotta have some,” Titania said.

“Kid, remember that talk you and I had about what to do when we encounter strangers?”

“Yeah. Listen to you no matter what and don’t give out our real names,” she rattled off from the top of her head.

“Good. Now’s that time.”

“Oh.” She glanced at the strangers approaching them. “Got it. What am I supposed to call you?”

“Just call me Noct.”

“And who am I supposed to be?” she whispered.

Stryg regretted not coming up with proper names beforehand. “Gwyn,” he said, the first name that popped up in his mind.

“Gwyn?” Titania made a face. “Who is that?”

“You’ve got a problem with the name?” Stryg cocked an eyebrow.

“I mean, Gwyn doesn’t sound very strong.”

“Gwyn was a blademaster and the protector of my ancestor Stryga. When Stryga went into a forest of monsters to face a god, Gwyn didn’t hesitate to follow. She died a hero.”

“She died?” Titania said incredulously.

“Quiet,” Stryg said as the battlemages arrived.

The three strangers showed them their hands, palms face-up to show their lack of weapons, before slowly bowing. “Greetings, traveler,” they bowed in unison.

“What do you want?” Stryg said, stepping in front of Titania.

The strangers rose in unison and the woman among them stepped forward. “Our master wishes to extend their greeting to you, traveler, and your small companion.”

“And why would your master want that?” Stryg asked.

“I do not pretend to comprehend the intricate and deep workings of my master’s mind. All I can say is that which was spoken to me. ‘Bring the traveler here. I would like to speak with him. It has been a long time since I have hosted a divine.”

“Oh. That kind of Traveler,” Stryg said.

“This way, if you please,” the woman gestured towards the massive red tent.

“Stay close, Gwyn,” Stryg whispered.

“Huh? What?” Titania blinked. “Oh, right.” She straightened her back and walked next to Stryg with the most rigid gait he had ever seen, almost as if she were a golem.

He sighed and followed the mages. When they arrived at the tent, one of the mages pulled back the burgundy fabric, while the others bowed.

“I take it you three are not joining us,” Stryg guessed.

“Such is our master’s will,” they replied in unison.

“Right…” Stryg said dryly. “Come on, kid.”

Titania pointed at herself. “You mean me? ‘Cause I’m Gwyn.”

Stryg shook his head and pulled her inside. The interior of the tent was even more lavish. Various mirrors were lined across the fabric walls, each with delicate filigree made of gold and covered with enough jewels to make even the wealthiest merchant prince envious.

Pink plumes of sweet-scented smoke filled the air. Stryg scrunched his nose, the aroma too strong for his sensitive nose. A voluptuous woman in loose, scant clothing lay across a bed of pillows at the center of the tent. Her long, dark hair was decorated with bright orange flowers, and tied in a single braid that lay past her shoulder and down to her hips. In her hand, she held an ebon wood pipe, pink smoke drifting from the bowl.

Her lips, painted a dark muted purple, curled at the sight of Stryg and Titania. “Hello, Traveler—”

“Who are you and what do you want?” Stryg demanded.

She laughed, a sultry sound, and leaned back on her array of pillows. “My, how I’ve missed that. The domineering attitude. Eyes that can steal your soul. You walk where you choose and the world itself bends around your will, not the other way around. Gods, it sends shivers down my spine just looking at you. I can see you thinking of how to kill me even now as I speak. It’s electrifying,” she shivered in delight and took another puff of her pipe. “It almost makes your kind worth the trouble.”

“We’re leaving,” Stryg said.

“So soon? Look at me, blathering on. Where are my manners? Please, have a seat. Enjoy a quiet respite from the sun, if only for a moment,” she patted a couple of pillows next to her.

Stryg ignored her and turned to leave, but Titania tugged his hand.

“I’m hungry,” Titania whispered.

“Hungry, are we? I’ll have my servants prepare us dinner,” said the mistress of the tent.

Stryg held back a groan before turning back to her. “If you try anything, I will kill you.”

Her eyes crinkled with pleasure. “I’m certain you will.”

“Who are you and what do you want? I won’t ask again,” Stryg said.

“Who am I? This one’s name was once Sarai,” she gestured to herself. “And that is the name I adhere to these days. But for you, hm,” she smirked, “You can call me Wren.”