The Hunt for Peace

Chapter 6

It still bewildered Hiroka how terrifyingly inconsistent the land of Nalae is. One moment she and Rakni roamed the grasslands, then she crossed the border into another type of terrain. The reason for why the terrain sat there held no rhyme or reason. She wonders to herself what the elves of this land could have done, what the necromancer king could have done, to make these lands the way they are. Both she and her traveling partner walked on a long wooden pathway that sat atop the mire. The mire sat east of the Life Road, and west of what Rakni referred to as a den, a home for golems. Said den in question was known as Axelfront, and was once owned by the barbaric Wheelsen before being recently overtaken by the Wolfsen of the east. The peatlands they walked over had no name to it whatsoever, branded no different from the other most likely impermanent spectacles of nature. Through the grasses, water, and soil was a long wooden pathway that stretched from one end to another.

"So.." says Hiroka, trailing closely behind Rakni, "who built this path?"

"Not the Wheelsen, that's for sure. I've never been here before." answers the golem, "This place will ruin their wheels and gears, I'm sure they roam in the lands between this place, considering this bridge is a bit too narrow."

The elf carried a few of their belongings in a small bag. Said bag was literally just the fur of the creature Rakni killed all the way back at the gorge, the same one they've been using as a bedding-mat. It was no futon, far from it, but it certainly beat just having the earth or a log. The more she thought about it though, the more she thought that perhaps they should've skinned the camel as well. Within the bag were a few chunks of chopped wood and some animal bones that Hiroka plans to carve later. There were also a few other items, such as a balm, some bottles Rakni looted all the way back at the gorge, and three miniature cases that could fit in the palm of her hand.

"What do you think this path leads to?"

"An outpost, probably. Anyone could have left this behind."

"What makes you say that?"

"The wood we're stepping on isn't normal wood. It's skin." says Rakni, the elf gasps. "The bark of Treesen, some squadron or company must have died a couple centuries ago, give or take, and fashioned it into this pathway."

"That always perplexed me, your naming schemes," says Hiroka, "what is this sen you speak of?"

"Didn't I already tell you this?" Hiroka shakes her head at his question.

"Sen, basically meaning Son Of, implies what model we are, Like me, Windsen, indicating that the winds are under my command. I soar high in the sky with powerful gusts and blow down structures with roaring blasts of air. Stuff like that."

"Are all golems brothers then?"

"Brothers in arms"

Hiroka nods, a small smile forming on her face. She remembers friends of her own, sparring in the monastery. She remembers the clashing of two wooden swords, and the mischief of trying to steal some extra biscuits from the kitchen. Such memories quickly turn to fighting side-by-side, with the loud explosive sound of firearms and firecrackers, the sound of an arrow headed straight towards her neck, zipping through the air before the sound of wood being split into two due to the projectile coming into contact with her sword. She can even recall fighting in a bog like this, marching through the muck and water, the possibility of either vicious yokai or bandits at every turn, dreadful mosquitoes ready to riddle their bodies with bites.

It was one of the things she was grateful for when she came to Nalae. Her ears didn't have to suffer the annoying buzzing sound of any mosquito, and neither did her arms and legs. As Hiroka continues to reminisce, she then remembers the outcomes of certain battles. She remembers standing in front of a tall, muscular man, just her and him standing before each other in the rainy darkness, nothing but the soft and slippery earth beneath their sandals.