Chapter 2:
The next morning, we awaken before dawn and prepare to embark on our journey westward to the city of Corona. My head and neck ache tremendously, but it is actually not as bad as I had thought it would be. As we hike across the harsh landscape, Fiana asks me why I did not take my helmet off to sleep.
"I was in a terrible house fire when I was just a child," I answer, making up the story as I go along (and doing a fine job of it, if I do say so myself), "It nearly claimed my life, but I barely managed to make it out. Over time, the burns on my body healed, but my face was left horribly disfigured. I prefer not to show my face to anyone."
"Oh, I see," Fiana answers, and I see genuine sympathy on her soft features, "Forgive my indiscretion, friend. I didn't mean to bring up such a painful subject."
"No, it's no problem," I say, feeling guilty for having to lie to her. I am glad she cannot see the guilt etched on my face, "Really, it's no big deal. You didn't know; now you do. Don't worry about it."
We continue on in relative peace. Occasionally, we encounter some of the beasts that tend to roam this land and cause strife for weary travelers. Large two-legged reptilian creatures with uncanny agility are especially abundant, but the three of us manage to repel any trouble that comes our way. Mero tells me that they are called kagouti, and they are perhaps the most abundant creature in the mountains. They tend to travel alone, but they have been known to group together during mating season (which he tells me has just passed, thank the gods). I discover that these creatures are aggressive but not very smart; twice we have been attacked by kagouti that were so disfigured from fighting other beasts that they are barely able to strike out at us. I feel a certain level of sympathy for these mangled beasts, even though they clearly act on instinct alone.
We also encounter some more familiar creatures that I have run into before: wild rats, cliff racers, bell rays, zebblogs, and even an ogrim or two. Most of these creatures are smart enough to flee when they see us, but an especially brazen beast will occasionally try to ambush us. This is an unfriendly land, and I am glad that I am going through it with companions for a change. Fighting all of these dangerous beasts by myself was becoming very taxing on my body and my mind.
Throughout the day, I am also given the opportunity to watch my partners in action. Fiana's skill with a bow and arrow is superb, and the occasional spell she conjures shows a great deal of talent in the art of magic. Likewise, Mero shows me that he is also a formidable fighter. When he swings his mace, it appears to be a mere blur. I have spent a lot of time around fighters to see that this man certainly knows what he is doing.
My earlier feelings of detached indifference are beginning to fade. Against my better judgment, I am beginning to grow fond of these two. I know that relationships are dangerous for someone like me, but I just cannot help but feel a certain undeniable connection between myself and these two. Perhaps it is just because I have spent so much time on my own that I have grown especially receptive to a little company; perhaps it is because it is against my nature to be by myself for too long; or maybe it is simply because I share so much in common with these two. Whatever the reason may be, I am beginning to grow attached to Fiana and Mero, even though I know damn well that doing so will only bring grief and misfortune to all of us. As long as this bounty on my head remains in place, I will never be able to have people around me without putting them in danger. And since the last thing I want is to have someone I care about put in danger on my behalf, it has always been better for me to simply remain alone. That is how I have lived for years; I see no reason to change that way of life.
Why, then, am I going against this creed now?
For the first time in recent memory, I have decided to ignore my instincts, knowing full well that I will regret this decision sometime in the near future. After much deliberation, I have decided that the only rational explanation for this breach in protocol is my inherent weakness when it comes to dealing with people. I have always had friends and people I cared about; to suddenly have all of it taken away from me came as an incredibly great shock to my way of life. I suppose it is a weakness that may never go away; as long as I am alive, I will never get used to an existence spent alone. That is why I so desperately crave companionship; that is why I have decided to open up and become friends with Fiana and Mero.
We continue to travel together for several more days. After a while, I notice that they are opening up to me as well. Fiana seems to trust me exclusively, and although Mero is a bit more shrewd when dealing with these kinds of situations, I believe he is beginning to trust me as well. I realize that Mero is the kind of man that has a difficult time trusting others; he seems to be more of a loner who prefers his own company. In a way, I guess you could say he is the kind of guy that I am trying to avoid becoming. Surprisingly, this realization doesn't make me like him any less. In a way, I begin to admire him for being able to tolerate a lifestyle that I abhor.
Fiana, on the other hand, seems much more willing to open up and share her feelings. Overall, I find her to be quite likeable. She is energetic, optimistic, and incredibly intense whenever she speaks of something she cares about, like alchemy or magic. I am also beginning to feel the slight tug at my heart which suggests that my feelings for her may be a bit more than companionable, but I banish those thoughts from my mind almost immediately. I am already taking enough of a risk by being friends with her; I have to draw the line somewhere.
Although it can sometimes be difficult for me to do so, I endeavor to hide my feelings of conflict from the pair. It is at times like these that I am especially glad that I am wearing this restrictive helmet. The story I used about being disfigured in a house fire seems to be quite effective in staving off any more inquiries about my face; I must remember to use that excuse again in the future.
As time passes and our journey through the mountains becomes more and more difficult, I find the bonds between us begin to strengthen. It is amazing how quickly one learns to trust others when put in such a grueling situation. By now, I know that even after our exodus is complete, my two companions will most likely remember my company for a long time to come. I can just imagine them camping out under the stars around a strong campfire, sharing a bowl of stew and talking of old times. Perhaps they will speak of me and the time we spent together crossing the hazardous landscape on our way to reach Corona. I wonder what they will say about me.
It was a mistake to come with them.