Never Go Off-Script

Chapter 5 - Archer's POV

I froze, staring at the name of the starting point. I had been everywhere on the map except this place. Don't get me wrong, I would've loved to go there sooner, but I'm not an explorer. A hero has no time to travel needlessly — and no reason to, either.

A grin spreading across my face, I flicked the reins of my horse. As though feeding off my excitement, she darted forward beneath me, and just like that, we were headed off to the most feared destination on the map — the swampland.

The journey took a couple of days. First, the main path cut straight through the canyons, where I had to keep my guard up; the canyons were known for being the raiders' Number One hideout. It made sense, seeing as the plateaus made for both a perfect lookout and an unbeatable ambush. Anyone traveling through best hope they looked more threatening than threatenable.

As someone who fit into the "threatening" category, I was in no rush to get through the canyons, looking forward to beating up a raider or two. But alas, no one attacked me, and I continued into the woodlands without so much as a hitch.

After about half a day, the woodlands slowly faded into the deadlands, which used to be called the "wastes", but evidently that name didn't suit the landscape well enough. I couldn't argue — looking at the terrain surrounding the path, I confirmed that everything was, in fact, dead. The trees stood colorless, their gray branches bare. Logs lay rotting across the washed ground, and I swore I spotted a few skeletons of unknown origin lying about.

I clicked my tongue, picking up the pace to a trot. I didn't want to spend any more time there than necessary. It gave me the creeps.

Finally, after two full days of riding across the map, I reached my destination. The coast of the swamp was surprisingly grassy and green; I don't know what I was expecting — maybe something similar to the deadlands, but with mushrooms and moss everywhere?

I dismounted my horse, taking in my surroundings. Turns out there was moss, but it was clinging onto trees, which I hadn't expected to see here. They stuck out of olive-tinted water, their thin branches twisting and tangling with one another until they created a spiderweb-like canopy overhead. With a closer look, I noticed multi-colored mushrooms growing on the trunks of the trees. Okay, so at least some of my assumptions were reasonable.

Pulling out my quest scroll, I read it through carefully, trying to memorize each point in the story. Quests usually began with a story, which always sounded like some stupid prelude to a children's play, but this one felt different — almost like it was real, like an old legend. Maybe that was just because it was so damn long, but something about it resonated with a sort of ancient truth. 

The scroll read:

"Long ago, before the age of adventurers and heroes, the lands were populated by magical creatures. There were dragons, fae, unicorns, trolls, and the like. But hidden deep in the forest, protected by its natural magic, was a kingdom of elves. While the elves were considered egotistical and vain, they were also very artistic and created all sorts of beautiful trinkets in which they stored their magic for safekeeping.

"One of these trinkets was treasured above all, created for the queen by her beloved people. After the passing of their king, who had been brutally murdered by the jealous fae, the elves wished to protect the queen from all harm, magical or mortal.

"And so, the elves took a stone from the heart of the forest and embued it with their collective magic, spurred on by the love for their queen. They attached the stone to a golden chain so that the queen may always keep it with her, and thus remain safe from all which may threaten her.

"The stone worked wonders, and the queen ruled over the kingdom in perfect health; never threatened, never endangered. For its success in keeping their queen alive, the elves named the stone, the 'Lyfe stone'.