The Summoner of Sanctuary

Edwin Glade

When I pushed open the door back into the evening light, a familiar voice greeted me.

"Need a ride?" it asked.

I squinted up in the direction of the voice. It was twilight at the time, but that just meant the luminous paving that made up the main streets of most major towns in Telegard was burning brightly already.

"Where to?" I responded, blindly, in the rough direction. The shape of something large was starting to form but I couldn't tell what it was; I was also having difficulty placing the voice.

"I'm off to Lakeside. I was told you need a ride to Capitol?"

"I do..."

Finally the picture was coming into focus. The large shape belonged to a caravan, a covered wagon designed for the social transport of goods; the speaker was the driver of the machine. He was tall and skinny, but that was about all an observer could make out. Typical of many transporters trying to avoid prying eyes, he was wearing a nondescript trench coat complete with gloves and tall boots, a long scarf wrapped over his mouth and nose, a brimmed hat, and some sort of dark glasses. While dust brown was the typically chosen color, this merchant wore ashen grey.

"Oh," I exclaimed, finally recognizing the man, "good evening, Edwin."

"Took you long enough, Graff," he responded. "Are you getting on or not?"

I nodded, unsure if he was even looking, and clambered up into the back.

"What are you moving?" I asked idly looking around at the barrels that filled the space.

"Ale, what else?"

Edwin removed his hat, tossing it in the back, and brushed back his short, golden hair. Soon after, his glasses and scarf were discarded as we left the city's lights behind. Edwin Glade was a "dark" elf. He wasn't really much different than any other elf, he simply grew up in Sanctuary. His skin was dark grey not the usual pale white of the others of his kind and his eyes were larger as to be adjusted to the dimmer light of Sanctuary's dark forests, but that was about the end of the differences. His manor was more rough and tumble than smooth and elegant and he chose to cut his hair short, but that's more about his personality than his race.

"Oh," he said suddenly, "Almost forgot. These are for you."

He handed a cloth-wrapped package and a canteen back to me.

"What is this?" I asked holding up the package. It was very heavy.

"Well that one's food," he said pointing to the package in my hand, "and that one's water. Have you forgotten what they look like?"

"Very funny, but that's not what I meant."

I untied the knot holding the package together, revealing two thick slices of bread with about a half-foot cubed of various meats between.

"Seriously, what is it?" I asked.

"It's a sandwich."

"Made of...?"

"Meat; I don't know, I don't eat the stuff."

"Clearly," I muttered. It was impossible to tell what meats were used, probably ones that didn't mix well though, but I suddenly found myself too hungry to care. I hear him snickering as I practically inhaled the first meal I had in a week.

"You should probably get some sleep. Well, unless you've forgotten about that too," is what I thought I heard him say, sounds like something he would say, but I don't remember too well. In a few more moments, I was fast asleep.