5. Chapter 5

Chapter five

G ecko and I navigate the forest together for two days. He imparts valuable knowledge about edible fruits and berries, cautioning me about those that could lead to unusual consequences or worse. Every lesson he imparts is either put into practice or diligently documented in the small book Corvu gave me. The realization that so many people deceived me and that my naivety played a role weighs heavily on me. We pause at Gecko's concealed shelter to gather supplies, and for the first time, I feel adequately prepared for the challenges ahead.

Gecko resides on the side of a small hill, where he's fashioned a shelter to shield himself from the elements. Despite his youth, the dwelling is surprisingly spacious, almost imperceptible from the outside. His skills impress me, and I learn that his parents departed from the Northern Thack Hideaway, the Pixie group that usually stays together. Disagreeing with some teachings, they left to ensure Gecko could grow strong and learn survival skills. Despite his young age, he harbors sweet intentions, planning to search for his parents with the belief that a Wizard might help him in this quest. While his agenda isn't solely focused on assisting me, the purity of his heart reassures me.

I reveal my plan to travel to Wanbourne, the city on the map replacing New York, also known as the Capital. Gecko approves of this choice, suggesting it as a suitable location dominated by humans, Elves, and other creatures. With the city's size, as indicated on the map, there's a good chance of finding a Wizard.

Day Five arrives, and Gecko interrupts my thoughts, asking about my parents. As we walk through the forest, the vibrant foliage creating a canopy above us, I confess that I'm an orphan. I elaborate on the family of brothers and sisters who cared for me, teaching me various skills to get by.

"They taught me all sorts of things," I say, my voice tinged with nostalgia. "Like how to perform magic tricks. I used to busk in Central Park, doing sleight of hand and other little illusions to earn some money. It was my way of contributing, you know?"

Gecko's eyes widen with interest. "Magic tricks? Can you show me one?" he asks eagerly.

I smile and pick up a tiny rock from the ground. "Sure thing. Watch closely." With a few deft movements, I make the rock disappear and then reappear in my other hand. Gecko's excitement is palpable, his face lighting up with awe.

"Wow! Are you a witch?" he asks, his voice filled with innocent curiosity.

I laugh softly. "No, I'm not a witch. Just a girl who learned some tricks. But if you want, I can teach you a few." Gecko nods enthusiastically, his determination reminding me of the younger kids at my orphanage. I teach him a basic trick, showing him how to make a small pebble disappear and reappear. His enthusiasm and focus are heartwarming, and I can't help but feel a sense of pride as he masters the trick. "You're really good at this," I tell him, ruffling his hair. "Just like the kids back home." As we continue our journey, the realization hits me that I may never visit the orphanage again. The thought is bittersweet, but I push it aside, focusing on the present moment. Gecko and I continue practicing tricks, laughing and sharing stories.

Suddenly, vibrations beneath us disrupt our routine. Gecko's ears twitch, his eyes narrowing with concentration. His heightened senses pick up something I can't detect.

"Shh," he whispers, grabbing my hand. "We need to be quiet and walk quickly."

My heart pounds in my chest as we move cautiously, trying to avoid making any noise. I have no idea what might be nearby, but the urgency in Gecko's actions tells me it's something we don't want to encounter. The forest around us feels more ominous, the usual rustling of leaves and chirping of birds now filled with potential danger.

We continue walking, each step carefully placed to avoid drawing attention. The suspense is almost unbearable, but I trust Gecko's instincts. His grip on my hand is reassuring, and I know he's doing everything he can to keep us safe.

And then, we make a mistake.

Before me stands the colossal creature – big, the first word that comes to mind. His entire body is adorned with tribal markings, clad in animal skins that strategically cover his form. Bulging black eyes glare down at me, accompanied by teeth resembling tusks and scars hinting at decades spent in the woods. In his hand, a thick tree trunk fashioned into a proportional club, metal chunks embedded for maximum impact. My heart drums in my chest. I stand frozen.

"Run!" Gecko yells as the creature lunges, swinging the club between us. In a typical situation, I'd trip over a shadow and tumble face-first into the dirt, but, surprisingly, I maintain my balance as Gecko tugs my hand, urging me to run. The monster bellows, closing the distance with each colossal step. I feel the ground shake beneath me. A quick side glance reveals it's on our tails, ready to swing the club.

Summoning unexpected bravery, I shove Gecko to the side, landing on top of him and rolling into a slight ditch. The club narrowly misses us. The creature, mouth agape, looms over us. I'm not adept with Daemonaria, but I sense its anger. Is it my fault? Because I'm human? Leave it to the klutz to end up in a world where everyone despises humans.

The creature yells, dropping its club and clutching its head. A small stone that drops beside me reveals the source—a familiar rescue. Could Corvu truly be here? Relief and a hint of excitement wash over me .

"Go back to your dwelling, Shorg!" A woman's voice commands. As I stand, I observe a woman and three others surrounding the Shorg with weapons drawn. One of the men wields a slingshot, but it's not Corvu. No, this man is unmistakably a Clawhop. The Shorg looks down at everyone, I can only assume contemplating how easy it would probably be to squash our skulls with its giant bare hands. After a minute of silence, it picks up the club beside it and slowly retreats between everyone, their swords and bows never facing away, not even for a moment. Minutes pass as the sound and vibrations of its footsteps are no longer heard. Looking around I see these people relax, a pair that were easily identifiable as twins chuckled sheathing their weapons, very proud of themselves. The two boys punched each other in the shoulder and retreated back to the main group, their long plaited hair pulled back slickly behind their ears, which were actually normal to my surprise. In fact, they may be completely human.

The woman that had shouted turns toward the Clawhop and gives him a peck on the cheek. A wave of gratitude washes over me, although worry lingers about what will transpire when they discover the amulet's power concealed beneath my shirt. I check, ensuring it's still safely tucked away, before emerging from the ditch with Gecko holding my hand.

"Thank you," I express first. The Clawhop turns to me, sporting a wide smile. It becomes evident that his upper half looks more human than the first Clawhop I encountered. Perhaps there's another species I'm unaware of, adding to my mounting exhaustion.

"No worries," his deep voice cheerfully responds. "We were heading this way and heard the noise. Couldn't very well just stand by." His friendliness provides reassurance. "I'm Luca. My wife, Bella, and my two sons Theda and Yunda." The twins appear close to my age.

"I'm Tia, and this is my friend Gecko. Honestly, I don't know what we would have done if you hadn't shown up."

"Get flattened?" Yunda remarks.

"Yeah, that was a given," I smile.

Bella chuckles, "We are glad you're okay. What are you both doing this far out without a cart or wagon?" Stunned and confused, I let Gecko answer.

"We got lost. We are just trying to get to the next city."

"Would you like a ride with us? We're performers, and this area has a lot of bandits. Being on your own, as you are, is dangerous." About fifty paces away stands a tall and wide carriage, golden doors, and dragon and vine paintings decorating the red exterior. As we approach, Gecko nudges me with approval.

"If you're offering, we would love to come with you," I respond.

"Wonderful!" Luca exclaims, arms thrown toward the air. "You shall ride with my wife inside, boys—" He's interrupted by the twins roughhousing, reminiscent of my childhood. I miss those days—the simplicity where the only worry was adoption. "Boys!" he shouts, "get the horses moving." The twins cease their antics and attend to the two grey horses, heightening my excitement. Perhaps these people are offering assistance purely out of kindness.

However, I can't expect safety, regardless of the situation. Luca, I learn, is a Clawhop, but only half. Daemonaria often mix and match species, even with humans. Grateful for his parents' union, Luca assumes he wouldn't have met his wife or had the twins otherwise. The twins, amusingly, bicker over every detail, even the size of an apple. Politely declining, I opt for berries gathered by Gecko and me. It's a refreshing change—I don't feel so helpless for once.

Later that day, we camp by a skinny river, where the twins teach me an unconventional fishing technique. They throw rocks to block the stream, toss a net over it, and watch the fish attempt to jump over. It's impressive, making fish retrieval for dinner incredibly easy. Gutting a fish for the first time, however, ruins my appetite.

The next day, our carriage ride is smooth, progress evident in the speed we travel. Excitement builds as we approach another village, anticipating the new discoveries awaiting me. I diligently update the journal, uncertain when I'll need to refer back to information. Bella, during the journey, teaches me to sew patterns into a satchel bag. Despite pricking myself with the blunt needle, I'm genuinely proud of the not-so-pretty flowers I create. Everyone finds it amusing, and Bella insists I keep the bag as a reminder of my starting point. Her curly hair triggers memories of my manager at the convenience store, a trying woman who disliked change but was always encouraging.

It was almost dusk when one of the twins popped his head inside the carriage window and announced that we were half a day's ride from the next village, but they would have to stop to make camp in about an hour. I didn't sleep well the night before. I had tried to get used to being cold and sleeping on the dirt but it just wasn't a capability I was picking up easily, so while riding in a carriage with slightly padded seating, I took the opportunity to close my eyes and rest.