Hero's Journey

Chapter 13

Kagon looks at his old family friend strangely.

Those words remind me of someone. Kagon ponders for a moment before it comes to him. Ah, yes. Delia said something similar to me awhile back. I wonder how she is doing? That is if she's alive. Ha! But if course she is! The Fates are not done with their entertainment quite yet!

"What is it, boy." Lelk asks, noticing the weird look on the blonde's face.

He waves it off. "I just remembered something is all."

〰〰〰

The sun is a bright wake up call as it seeps through the brown sack-cloth walls of the tent. Delia blinks rapidly, blinking the light out of her eyes before getting up with a yawn.

She rubs at her stormy colored eyes before glancing over to where Kipdale sleeps. The boy is usually already up at this time from nightmares so he just sits on his bed mat and waits for Delia to awaken.

Alas, when Delia looks to where the boy should be all she sees is an empty spot. The bed mat and pillows are gone, including the small sack of belongings he'd collected during their stay here. Dread fills Delia to the core.

She gets up, not bothering to lace up her worn boots before peering out of the tent. Through the bustle of preparation for the trip to Lanthos she sees nothing but dust and booted feet.

The writer crawls out of the tent and gets to her feet for a better view. She looks from side to side quickly. No one pays her any attention through their haste.

"Kipdale!" She calls.

No one answers.

And that's when it hits her like a ton of bricks. If Kipdale did have some connections to what is going on like she speculated, then surely he wouldn't of wanted to return to the very place of his pain.

"I'm so stupid." Delia groans, smacking her forehead with the back of her hand.

"That you are girl." Nandef says coming up beside her.

Delia scowls, she hadn't spoken to the man since he almost robbed her and worse.

"What made you finally admit it?" He asks, creeping nearer to her.

Delia takes a step away, ignoring the pain that shoots up her leg as the flesh of her foot slices on a sharp rock. She bites her lip, willing away the pain.

"Have you seen Kipdale?" She asks instead of speaking the clever rebuttal perched on her silver tongue.

Nandef sneers. "No." Then realization dawns on him and a sly smirk flits on to his face. "What have you lost your lost puppy?" He makes a show of looking around her. "It appears you have."

Another cunning reply swallowed back. "Can please you tell me if you see him?"

Worry fills her like brandy in a mug. He was barely able to take care of himself before and it is doubtful he has any provisions. Delia once again scans the crowd to no avail.

Sticks and stones, this is all my fault. If only I had been more considerate...

"Of course not. It is far too troublesome. I have people to look after, you know. And now with all the rebels gone I can run this place without a hitch."

Delia openly gapes at the male. "A-are you saying you want them to die?!"

"No, no, don't be silly. I'm just looking on the bright side. There is no way they'll return, you realize."

"No, I don't realize. What I do realize though, is that you're a traitorous coward. I am not even part of your village and I'm going to help them."

Before Delia can finish Nandef interjects. "Oh, I see you are going to be committing suicide along with that idiot Iglesias? How fitting for a naive girl as yourself. Quite a tragedy really, one I can see in a book. The pretty, brainless heroine follows her instincts blindly into the middle of crossfire, only to get shot right through the heart that lead her there."

"Pretty words." Delia comments. "Maybe I'll write something like that one day."

Not wanting to waste anymore of her time she breezes past the corrupt man back into her tent to finish getting ready to leave, hoping against reality that Kipdale will be there to meet her.

But it is not to be.

"I am ready to leave, Iglesias." Delia says to the leader of the group of rescuers after a thorough search for her silent friend.

Iglesias smiles at her. "Good, you are just in the nick of time."

As their procession makes their way over the rocky terrain Delia throws one last glance over her shoulder. She sees a flash of bright amber from the green foliage surrounding the camp and then nothing at all.

Before the writer can go to investigate, the small crowd carries her along like an unstoppable current. Or who knows, maybe it is the fates pushing her in the right direction, or the wrong one.