May Fortune Guide Us
The island of Patch was breathtaking in a nostalgic, comforting way that Clover struggled to verbalize. From the moment he climbed up the long, steep road winding around the cliff side to take him to the main forest level, Clover found himself immersed in a sea of greens. The sunlight filtering through the canopy of airy trees filled him with joy, lightening the burden of the pack of supplies he carried upon his back; the idyllic surroundings made him almost forget the length of the journey awaiting him.
After all, his path would not be an easy one. After spending the morning scouting out the area and stocking up on last-minute essentials, he knew that his best bet would be to examine the small mountain at the southernmost tip of the island; dragons loved creating dens within mountains, but shifters enjoyed solitude, serenity where they did not have to maintain a guise for too long. If there was anywhere that was unpopulated, according to the innkeeper and the few servants Clover had managed to bribe into talking to him, that area of the island was his best bet in finding and creatures which longed to be alone.
Clover gulped, thinking back on the words Elm, Harriet's quartermaster, had shared with him halfway through their journey upon the Winter Maiden. "Yer huntin' down a shifter, aintcha?" the burly, confident woman had guffawed, hands on her hips with sweat shining on her brow, hair pushed up out bright eyes. "I've dealt with one, back when I was a kid."
He had perked up, awaiting her response; however, as she began to speak, it had taken all of his strength to not sigh and wave off her words, for they weren't helpful in the slightest. "That creature was a mean one," she had cackled, "and so easily able to transform- that one liked the form of a snake, so it was always slithering around, gobbling up the local kids- and when we finally managed to land an axe on it…" She shook her head, the memories clearly amusing despite the gruesome words spilling from her lips, "It got stuck halfway between transformations, and let me tell you, half-humans-half-snakes that aren't lamia are disgusting. The bones don't make sense, especially when Aura runs out or mana lines are cut!"
The woman had stopped her rambling thoughts only when Marrow had pleaded with her, the young man's dark skin holding a greenish tint thanks to her visceral descriptions.
Of course, this one ends up being a shifter. Does it just enjoy turning into a dragon? Clover sighed, shaking his head. There was no point fretting, not while he still had the entire length of the island to cross. There were no paths coming around the south side of the isle to go directly there, so he had little choice but to traverse all of Patch from the north. Thankfully, the land was an easy trek, the ground level, the dirt roads packed and clearly maintained in order to sustain carriages and foot traffic alike; the beaten path felt safer than many areas Clover had explored around Argus on previous missions, that was for sure.
As time passed, the only problem he began encountering was not the wrath of fiends, but rather the sweltering heat. Even when protected by the rustling canopy above, the temperature which pervaded the island was something he would likely never become accustomed to; and, as he was on a journey to scout out the den of the beast, he was dressed in his plate armour, his greaves and boots clanking with every step he took. It quickly grew to be too much, and he found himself wishing that the inn had been located upon the main level of the island rather than by the port. That way, he would have at least been able to assess the shifter's lair and then come back to retrieve his gear. As it was, he was forced to take it all with him, for the only way in which he would be able to reach the southernmost point of the isle is if he walked nearly nonstop for the rest of the day.
He wasn't one of the greatest knights in Atlas for nothing, however; he quickly bit down on his annoyance and straightened himself up, plotting his route upon his map as he went. It was fruitless to complain, nor was this the most arduous journey he had ever undertaken; he would never really forgive the king for taking advantage of his innocent squiredom years ago and dragging him along on that godforsaken trek through the sands of the southwestern kingdom of Vacuo. Clover had never again been able to replicate the high of seeing the kingdom of Shade's high walls for the first time, promising shelter from the desert demons and scorching sandstorms.
It was only when the sun began its downward arc that Clover realized that he was nearing some active homes. Along his journey, he had encountered numerous cottages and halls tucked between the trees; there were even a few signs leading to a larger village upon the northeast and central point of the isle. Clover didn't bother stopping in, already having stocked up before his departure; according to the innkeeper by the port, there were no inns nor rest stops up there anyways, so all he could do was soldier on.
However, seeing completely isolated homes felt a little jarring. Clover frowned, quietly pulling out a small crystal from the talisman pouch around his neck. Without a word, he threw the shining, transparent gem upon the ground and crushed in under his heel, shuddering as the familiar pinpricks of magic coursed through him, covering him with a protecting coating. They won't see me with this, he sighed internally, continuing on his way. It was a little more reassuring to have the anonymity than to do without, and as he looked at his hands- or looked through his hands, thanks to the bought spell- he wouldn't be spotted as long as his armour didn't make too much noise.
Eventually, Clover made his way into a peculiar clearing, finding a lovely little cottage that seemed well lived-in; clothes were hung up on a drying line behind the wooden building, a small flowerbed on one side of the house and a vegetable patch growing out back. Through the opened shutters, he could spot stuffed toys and feathery drapes.
On one hand it was a lovely, pastoral little home. On the other, Clover could not fight back the creeping dread that filled him from head to toe as he walked around the house at a wide berth, taking care to be as silent as possible. After all, how could a small family like the one he presumed to occupy that home survive on their own in a forest that was, as far as Clover could tell, still susceptible to the Grimm?
His answer arrived soon, just as he was stepping back into the forest. He heard a bell ring above a door, the side door of the home opening. Two little girls streaked out to play in the expanse behind the building, giggling and cheering in the cozy afternoon glow. Behind them was a tall, handsome blond carrying a laundry basket upon his hip, the man calling to the two girls, "Ruby, Yang, help me with the linens."
Clover felt his concerns fade away as he recognized the symbol of two crossing axes surrounded by a wreath upon the man's chest; he was a part of the Huntsman's Guild in Vale. No wonder he's able to keep this place safe, he thought idly, smiling as he watched the smaller girl trip over herself, fall, then clumsily climb back to her feet with the help of the older girl. "Uncle Qwow is coming home!" the younger girl sang, a skip in her step and short brownish-red hair bobbing as she dragged a stool over to the clothesline. "Gotta make the bed, gotta make the bed!"
The older girl whooped at the other girl's words. "Finally!" she squealed in excitement. "Dad, he's been gone forever!"
The blond rolled his eyes, chiding the girls too quietly for Clover to hear, so Clover shook his head wryly and walked onwards on his path to the southern tip of the isle. The scene he had just seen could have been in a fairy tale; tranquility painted in the air thanks to the gentle, shimmering sunlight filtering in through the leaves, the light breeze ruffling the hair of the two children, the songbirds singing in the trees.
The world was beautiful. It was always a little shocking to see just how different that beauty could be outside of Atlas.
Still, he had a goal: reach the shifter's den. There was no point in dallying about. Clover squinted into the distance, looking up at the peak of the mountain ahead; he would certainly be able to reach the base of the mountain by nightfall, probably even before then, but with the telltale sign of building clouds roiling up above the mountaintop, the day was quickly going to be running out. Perhaps he would be able to slay the beast by the time the moon shone in the sky, or perhaps it would be a long, wet night in a bivouac. Either way, he had a long ways to go.
At least Clover could say that his good sense was not failing him, for the gooseflesh rising along his skin, hairs lifting across the nape of his neck, only gave more credence to the theory that he would find the creature atop the mountain of Patch. The idyllic little cottage he had seen with the Huntsman and his daughters had been the last house along this road; now that it had been a good few hours of a trek past that lone home, the narrowing dirt road had given way to crumbling gravel, dense brush blocking the path in some parts. Thick brambles snaked up trees which seemed to grow darker, more oppressive, upon this side of the isle, and the very air seemed to shift and hang heavier than before, crackling with electricity from the brewing storm up above. Clover grit his teeth, rolling on ahead, for he did not want to be caught in the rain without his bearings if he could help it.
And then, he heard it; in the distance, the crack of thunder, a flash of lightning, and a screech so unholy that prayers to the Great Brothers above left Clover's lips before he even knew what was happening. The sound was echoing from the other side of the mountain. Well, he thought grimly, pulling out Kingfisher and slicing through the stalk of a giant, man-sized fern which had been blocking the road, lucky guess for me, huh? Aim was correct as usual. He grimaced, mentally preparing himself for the journey ahead as he saw the abrupt end of the paved road before him. He would have to stomp through forest to get there. Let's just get this over with.