The surroundings almost distract me from the very likely possibility that the five of us could be marching to our deaths. We walk, subdued by rope, along the cobblestone path. To our left is a lake with a waterfall of crystal blue water, glimmering with rays of sunshine. To our right, more trees than the trained eye could see the end of. At the head of our party is Chief Raeis Fawra, Orbona sitting on his broad shoulders, and the other six Navaen nomads marching behind them. One of the Navaens drags a large bag behind him, carrying all of our weapons.

  “This entire thing could’ve been avoided by learning when to close that mouth of yours, Zadahn.” Charlie groans. “Oh well, live and learn, right? Although, we’ll see about that ‘live’ part...”

  Charlie sighs, his black dress shoes now covered in an amalgamation of blood and dirt.

  “Let me do you one better, Charlie.” I speak up. “How about this entire thing could’ve been avoided if that brat didn’t lead us into a death-trap. We should be at a whirlpool right now, swimming in women and treasure.”

  Alexandria chimes in.

  “Gross, Zadahn.”

  Antarc can no longer hold his tongue.

  “Thanks to you, I reek of blood and grass. How dare you blame this on Orbona? The poor girl just wanted to find her father. I’ve truly had it up to here with your shit. You need to learn some class before I pound it into that pretty little face of yours, you stupid, brainless basta-”

  “If you don’t want your arms to be the only thing restrained, I suggest you guys shut up.” Zahra interrupts Antarc’s seething.

  “Yes ma’am.” He swallows his discontent, pouting like a little girl.

  Standing tall above everyone other than the Chief, I look further down the path to see a wall of wooden spikes, fortified with metal plating. In its center, lies a gate, and at the top, sits a watch tower occupied by two scrawny Navaen Nomads.

  We steadily approach the gates, stopping in our tracks as the Chief comes to a halt.

  The chief motions his hand down towards his waist, flicking the bell-shaped contraption on his hip. My guild and I are taken aback by just how loud it rings. We cover our ears the best we can with bound hands.

  “I HAVE RETURNED, MY CHILDREN!” The chief rumbles, slamming his golden spear onto the path.

  An ecstatic cheer emerges from beyond the wall. What savagery dwells beyond these fortifications? How many corpses inhabit these floors? I’m tired of this. At first we were going to die of starvation, now we’re likely to be eaten or tortured by tribesmen– No, I can’t let that happen. Not until I’ve seen Celtor. My gaze hardens, preparing for the worst.

  A screeching noise is heard as the massive gates slowly creak open, the two watchmen Nomads pulling two large levers on each side. As the gates open fully, we’re met by the sight of a dozen beige tents on both sides, all serving different purposes. One says blacksmith, another says food hall, and I also notice an Antiquarian shop. The outpost’s ground is uneven, and covered in mud. I see countless weapon racks, mounted with hundreds of Gremorian Longspears, some still stained in the dried blood of their enemies.

  The atmosphere is even colder here, the very heart of frost beating in this camp. This Navaen safe-haven bustles with Gremorian men, women, and children numbering a few hundred, at least.. They line the streets, preoccupied, unbothered by our presence. They warmly welcome their party back, cheering as Raeis lifts his spear in the air, smiling. Orbona hops off of Raeis’s shoulders, running to a tent that says ‘Pater’s Fish’. Lying at the very end, in the middle of the two dozen tents, is the Chief’s War-Tent. It eclipses all other tents in size exponentially with its black in color and grainy in texture. At the top of the circular roof, a stone-carved spear lies mounted with a flag of Children of Navae’s emblem, a purple snowflake with two spears crossing through it.

  We march through the busy city towards the intimidating tent.

  I notice Charlie, Antarc, Sevilla, and Alexandria’s eyes wandering among the camp in awe, unfocused on our destination.

  “Guys.” I whisper, getting their attention, gesturing in the direction of the tent.

  “Sevilla, how do I smell right now?” Antarc asks quietly, Sevillas eyes locked onto the Navaen restaurant.

  “Great, Antarc. Anyways, do you know about Navaen cuisine? I don’t think I’ve ever had any.”

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “Whatever.” Antarc whispers, annoyed.

  “Don’t catch an attitude, Antarc. Just because there are strangers around doesn’t mean I won't backhand you.”

  “What do you think Orbona is saying to the chief?” Alexandria interrupts the two.

  “Good question, we’re probably about to find out.” I say.

  Chief Raeis Fawra pushes the flaps to the tent open, leading our group of thirteen inside.

  A council of five wrinkly Navaens sit in a circle, on a flat bamboo mat. Each has horns as long as a sword, and a flowing gray hairstyle. They are adorned in red robes that host a streak of black running through them.

  “Ah, to what do we owe the Bloodfrost Imperator? Have you located Pater, or have you just brought another group of distasteful Home-landers to our sacred grounds?”

  “I apologize, Elder Narza.”

  I’m taken aback by the shock of the Bloodfrost Imperator apologizing to a measly old man. Tradition and honor must truly be the top of the agenda for these savages, or that’s what I’d say if I knew they weren’t about to execute us.

  “Apologies are but words, and words are but wind.” Narza, an elder with a long, gray braided beard speaks. “It is such wind that carries Pater as we speak, Raeis.”

  “He is beyond our reach. It was a true tragedy. I visited the shores before I reunited with Orbona’s search party.” Raeis utters defeatedly.

  The shores? Could he be-

  “Hey, what do you mean shores! Why is he beyond your reach?” I blurt out.

  “SILENCE.” Raeis gutturally screams in my direction, as I almost feel a trickle down my black and gold trousers. Thankfully I’m not wearing white.

  Raeis, noticing my fear, continues.

  “I apologize for my outburst, Home-lander. I’ll replace your pants momentarily. You mustn't dare to speak in the presence of our Elders. I also apologize for not letting you know that in advance. A plethora of matters are at hand, and my mind is fogged-” An elder interrupts him.

  “Excuses, Raeis. You were given the responsibility of chief. Are you incapable of anything outside of brute-force? Do not make us regret your appointment.”

  “I understand, Elder Mazahr.”

  “Good. Now what chaos have you brought to our doorstep?” Elder Mazahr asks, shifting his aged eyes towards my guild and I.

  “What are your names, Home-landers?” Elder Narza inquires.

  “Zadahn.”

  “Alexandria, Elder.”

  “Antarc, Elder Narza.”

  “Pleased to meet you guys, I’m Charlie, I was maybe hoping to-” Charlie is cut off by Sevilla.

  “Sevilla, gentlemen.”

  “And where is Orbona now? Is she aware of the fate of her father?” A particularly stocky elder asks.

  “She is in Pater’s shop, and I believe she’s aware, but it seems she resides in a state of denial, Elder Azzaro.” A fourth elder scratches his unkept beard.

  “Raeis, why have you brought these Home-landers to our outpost? You are well aware of the dangers of outsiders knowing our whereabouts.”

  “These people attempted to kill Zahra and her men. Although, they did accept Orbona’s pleas for help, albeit likely not with intentions to actually help Pater, Elder Jazto.” The fifth and final elder, silent thus far, stands up, his antlers longer than all others. He stands tall, an aura of reverence filling the room. He begins walking towards us. No, he beings walking towards me?

  “Zadahn, was it, Home-lander?” He exclaims, chuckling.

  “You wish to venture into the whirlpools of Celtor? To explore the unknown? Ignorant boy. In my lifetime I’ve seen hundreds of fools leagues above you in strength and integrity never return from there.” He heartily chuckles.

  For a moment, he stops chuckling, and gazes into my eyes.

  His eyes widened, briefly, flashing with emotion. Regret? Fear, maybe?

  “Your path will be distraught. You will face enmity, and regret.”

  “Huh?” His smiling expression returns, eerily.

  “Nothing. Just messing with you, Home-lander. I thank you for your part in helping Orbona home.”

  “What should we do with them, Elder Talzar?”

  “Execute them.” He says with a stoic impression.

  My heart drops, and by the looks of their faces, so do my guild-mates. I debate running, but Raeis could probably eviscerate me before I budge.

  “Just kidding! Send them to our guest tent, and treat them with some hospitality before sending them on our way. Let's disprove some of our stereotypes, why don’t we.” Talzar chuckles, and we almost unanimously sigh in relief.

  “Thank you council.” Raeis rumbles, motioning us with his hand in the direction of the tent’s exit.

  As we exit, we are greeted by pink skies; sunset on the horizon.

  “May we speak now, sir?” Charlie asks, shyly.

  “Permission granted. As for Zadahn, I will retrieve your new pants momentarily.” Raeis says, motioning his hand in the direction of a teenage Navaen boy.

  Is he outing me on purpose? I hear my guildmate’s girlish giggles, Antarc loudest of all.

  “Mister Fawra, permission to visit the food tent?” Sevilla asks.

  “Make yourself at home, Sevilla.”

  “The rest of you, follow me to your quarters. You may leave in the morning, it is not safe at night.”

  I can handle myself, though I don’t dare vocalize this though. He’s underestimating me, and I hate it.

  Charlie, Antarc and I walk with Raeis to the sleeping tent.

  “There will be a festival tonight, Home-landers. You will see the beauty of Navaen tradition, an accolade not many can say they’ve survived witnessing. I hear we even have the Navaen Hydra of Meteor Isle on their way. Tonight is the night of remembrance. We celebrate our fallen soldiers once every three years, sacrificing a Ministry member to our god, Navae.”

  That's a lot to process, besides the sacrificial festivities. The Navaen Hydras are the prodigy warrior triplets of Meteor Isle, which lies deep in the Eastern Luminent, far from here.

  Are they truly crossing that ridiculous distance for Bloodsport? Raeis continues.

  “This is Orbona’s first festival without her father. I’d assume that is why she got you all involved in her mess.” Antarc’s eyes light up.

  “I really don’t mind it at all! She’s a kind girl.”

  “I am pleased to hear that, Antarc. To answer your question from earlier, your scent of Lavender has been replaced by an earthy musk. Your satchels are in your quarters.” Antarc goes somber again, self-conscious of his putrid scent.

  Approaching the entrance of the tent, Raeis holds me back to talk.

  “Zadahn, I’ve noticed your desire to find Celtor, but believe me. You don’t have the strength yet. None of you do. A grisly fate awaits anyone who travels beneath Lumen without taking the utmost precautions. If you’re serious about this, we will discuss more in the morning. I will see you at the festival.”