The Lost Voices (OLD VERSION - New Version to Come)

CHAPTER 3... HUNTER

FILE 15,292,800 (-1,036,800): Tarx Regime

8-9-1620 A.R.

Location: Elios, Terrarin 

An older man of the crowd approached Ithrayel and sat next to him on the wagon, seeking something resembling a conversation. "So, what's your story?"

He didn't look at the man. "Don't have one." He wasn't worth an analysis.

"C'mon, it's a long trek. Ya gotta talk about somethin'." Ithrayel didn't respond as his eyes trailed off to examine the full moon. "You runnin' from something?" The man leaned closer, but a single sideways glance from Ithrayel was enough to banish the man's attention. "Alright, suit y'self." The two sat in silence, tagging along with a convoy of families, merchants, businessmen, possible vagrants, and other inscrutable persons on their way to Terrarin's capital: Rivix. Fortunately, Ithrayel's speed bump was coming up soon and he intended to hit it hard.

A chilly gust danced through the carriages and pushed back Ithrayel's jet black hair as his cobalt eyes squinted against the breeze. Summer was barely over and fall was eager to set in. He glanced over his shoulder at the string of buggies and horses slowly keeping in line, their lanterns keeping them on course. The major leading this tired procession would most likely call it a night as they approached the outcropping up ahead. That is, he would if he wanted to keep the herd happy. 

Fortunately, movements like these were often aided by state officials, in some capacity, in order to ensure safe commerce for the everyday person. Then, almost on cue, the major stepped off the road to raise his voice to the crowd. Using yellow magic, his bellows easily carried over the sleepy line and directed the people toward a stony outcropping. 

The ledge was surrounded by a short, but dense, grove that overlooked a forest with light speckles of changing leaves. It eventually stretched out toward crop fields and elegant deer on the dimming horizon, but Ithrayel's eyes were like scopes trained on a wisp of smoke rising from somewhere beyond the cliff.

As the carriages and other vessels drew onto the natural encampment, Ithrayel slid himself off the wagon he had commandeered and slowly made his way toward the edge of the grove. He turned his wearied, leather collar up to the wind and limped with a fakely stiff arm at his side to kindly blend in with the decrepit drove. Once an hour had passed and most of the travelers were settled against the howling breezes, the major posted himself and a handful of younger comrades at the grove's entrance. 

They even planted larger torches near theirposted positions on the road, forming a spotted line of golden flames. Cog-beasts rarely ventured toward the main roads due to their excessive human activity, but it was smart to place guards in the worst case scenario. Ithrayel crept to his feet and, with the roughness of a feather, sifted through a nearby wagon of food and drinks. He collected enough to fill one of his satchels and silently moved it over his shoulder before disappearing into the tree line. 

He crept through the grove, dodging branches and slinking past thick bushes, until he reached the edge of the cliff. As he picked off the burrs and small thorns, the wind was quick to snatch them into its wild grasp. Elios' state line wasn't more than a hop away now.

Looking back through the tiny holes in the grove, now that he was separated from the convoy, it was clear that no one heard or saw him. Knowing this, Ithrayel lifted his two satchels and laid them on the ground beside him as he pulled out a green apple and leaned against a crooked tree. Before further inspecting the bags, he picked between the two items in his pocket and extracted an icy platinum coin. 

It showed signs that it was denser at one point, but it had been stretched from when a bullet struck its face and failed to break through. Despite this, it held the size and shape of a half-dollar with an ouroboros adorning the opposite side. Ithrayel fiddled with it, looked it over, flicked it up, caught it, and revealed it to himself: Ouroboros.