Chapter Text
Well, Yuder didn't take into account the fact that he could be learning about how efficient ravens are with tools, but seeing Marka yank his dagger out of a bandit's palm using his beak to drop it into his screaming mouth is definitely… something. Once he was sure the robber wouldn't be chasing after him, the young boy cleaned the blade of his dagger and unstring his bow before hastening his steps out of the dark and gloomy area of the forest.
Maybe Yuder should have borrowed a horse from the village at the foot of the mountain, but that didn't cross his thoughts when he went down. He was used to walking everywhere he needed to be, and the journey doesn't even exhaust him most days (except for when he's trying to evade being robbed while on the road). And Marka was acting like his watchdog anyways, circling the air whenever he made a stop and pestering him for bits of food that Yuder had to catch another fish to grill for him. But considering how the raven had alerted him to the robber and also assisted him in taking them down, maybe Yuder should give him some slack.
After the raven hurtled past him to avoid the attack from a bipedal monster he woke up and forced Yuder to kill it, he wondered if it's too late to retract his compliments.
It took him over a month to reach the capital, and Yuder filled his days with hunting small game and collecting medicinal herbs while on the road to keep himself afloat. His grandfather hadn't given him any timeframe for his arrival at the capital to find a contact of his living at the Seventh Wall so Yuder is going to make the trip worth it. He's also learning a lot of things about himself, like how he hates fishing and prefers to capture those slippery bastards with his dagger or his bow and arrow. Or how people would flirt with anything with a face and Yuder has to be aware that some people don't take rejection as calmly as others. His life on the Airic mountains sheltered him from encountering nobles and the likes, and Yuder's first impression of them was to shoot an arrow through the hand of one of the village lord's knights for trying to force himself onto a young woman. That incident delayed him by a few days due to Yuder getting the full story from the sobbing girl (who happens to be the lord's youngest daughter) and exacting justice himself by mowing down a good chunk of the lord's knights with the villagers and starting a coup d'etat with his wife and children to overthrow his tyranny over their village. It was worth it though, because the village gifted Yuder a horse along with the appropriate riding hood that cuts his remaining journey to the capital by half.
The capital, though, is another beast itself. Yuder was intimidated by the sheer amount of people bustling in the plaza, carts going around those walking down the same street, vendors yelling for the attention of passing folks to have a look at their wares, creating what he could only describe then as a chaos-fueled symphony. He was getting overwhelmed by everything happening around him fast and he reached his threshold, Yuder's face immediately shut down, making people give a wide berth around him while he led his horse to a waterhole to quench her thirst after their long journey. Good; Yuder wasn't in the mood to entertain anyone without food in his belly, and Marka hiding under his riding cloak shares the sentiment.
Yuder should have brought one of his neighbors for the trip to the capital, at least he would have someone that understands how… too much of everything in the capital is. But none of his neighbors knew about the assassination attempts he avoided every three to four months for the past two years, and while it's common to find bodies deep in the mountains, Yuder doesn't know how to explain that they were put there by him and was not, in fact, a product of a monster rampage. For the first time in his life, Yuder was stuck in a bind of someone else's works, and he despised even the notion of it.
His horse was placed in a stable that belonged to an inn; his choice for a place to stay for the next few days for him to track down his grandfather's contact, a pharmacist living in the capital who goes by Enon.
=+=+=+=
Yuder ends up doing minor chores around the Seventh Wall to pick up any hints on the whereabouts of the pharmacist. He opted for the commissions that allowed him to complete them once the sun sets on the horizon, which means there would be less people around for him to bump into. Also the late night patrons at the inn he's staying would have lower inhibitions due to the alcohol served in the tavern, giving him more opportunity to catch onto new rumours and complete his assigned task.
There are, of course, whispers of the man's existence here and there in the slums, offering help for the poor folks without asking for remuneration. Yuder was confused by the contradicting stories of him being a man with short temper with his selflessness to aid someone without asking anything in return. There's a lot of those making up the picture of Enon in Yuder's mind: a prickly yet kindhearted pharmacist, a youthful young man with wisdom beyond his years, a chivalrous soul living amongst the poor folks in the slums. He'd been advised by his grandfather that meeting the pharmacist would broaden his horizons on how the world works, as his grandfather had felt during their acquaintance.
Yuder would prefer to experience it himself, before he could offer his input.
Manning the tables at the tavern most nights, Yuder was also exposed to the gossip of the common folk about the nobles and the royal family of the Orr Empire. There are nights where he even joined the talk at some of the tables, listening to the damning scandals shared by fired servants and hired muscles of the duchy living in the capital. Yuder made sure to not linger once his senses picked up even the slightest presence of magic being used at certain tables to better protect himself, but mages or those with magical tools were far in between for regulars at the tavern he's working.
Despite his somewhat chaotic life jumping from one odd job to another at the Seventh Wall, Yuder was determined to introduce himself to Enon before leaving the capital for his home in the mountains. He wrote back regularly, updating them about his search for the pharmacist and the sights he'd seen at the capital. And after the blacksmith had read it for all of them, they would take the time of their day to pen back their replies, sharing with him the story of harvests and sightings of rare exotic birds. It is rare for Yuder to feel anything else beside his determination to explore the world, but perhaps after the disappearance of his grandfather, he had grown close to his neighbors to harbor a kinship with them.
He was preparing to leave the seventh Wall for a commission to gather a large amount of medicinal herbs in the forest, when the owner of the inn he's staying at halted him in his tracks. “Are you going out, Yuder?”
He gave the burly man a nod. “I've accepted a commission for a basket of hawthorne blooms, to the east of the capital. An apothecary is making them into sleeping aids for their customers, and I know which one is the best to harvest.”
“Yeah, I remember you mentioned coming from the mountains,” the innkeeper nodded with a serious expression. His expression shifted into unease, before he unfolded his arms crossed over his chest. “It's nearing the quarterly meeting for the nobles to discuss matters of their territories, so robbers and bandits are hiding in the well-traveled paths in droves. You watch over yourself, alright? I don't want to lose my best waitstaff yet.”
Yuder took his advice into consideration. He's heard about the uptick of robbery by the traveling paths around the capital, other mercenaries advising each other to travel light and to arm themselves. Perhaps he should keep vigilant as well, Yuder nodded at the suggestion.
The innkeeper's scarred face smoothed with relief. “I'm glad. Young boys like you tend to be hotblooded and think they are better than to listen to their elders. Will you be gone for long?”
“Perhaps for a few days. It is a large order.”
“Very well, then. I hope your absence would empty my corner table for other customers than the one that kept staring at you while you work.” His comment made Yuder freeze. Not knowing the reason behind Yuder's sudden shift in expression, the innkeeper droned on. “It's not like I would kick him out of my tavern since he's a paying customer, but if he's after you for some kind of bounty put on your head, I hope you can solve it away from my business, you hear me? Though what could amount to the head of a born and bred mountain boy with barely any meat to his bones?”
“I would appreciate it if you drop the dig at my weight,” Yuder interjects blandly, but his mind is running through all possible theories of the mysterious man watching over him. Why didn't Yuder notice his presence before? “If you don't mind me asking, what does he look like?”
Next morning, Yuder set off for his destination past the walls around the capital for his commission, wracking his brain for any face he could pin on the description of his stalker by the innkeeper. A tall man, broad-shouldered with messy brown hair and a normal face. He's been to the tavern a few times before Yuder starts working there most nights, but since has returned almost every night he's worked while gathering for clues on the whereabouts of Enon. Yuder could tell right away that he's a mage (those with little mana cannot discern magically-distorted features), but why would he be hunted down by one of them? His grandfather is one, and they tend to mind their own business rather than search for their nemeses’ family members with the intention to harm them. And although it is a rare occurrence, mages almost never take on bounties, preferring to continue their research rather than spend their days hunting down people.
What makes him special? Can Yuder discard it off himself, so he can continue living his life in peace?
For the first couple of days, Yuder kept his dagger close to his side while he collects hawthorne blooms from top of trees (they are parasitic in nature, but instead of siphoning the trees’ nutrients, it is more of a symbiotic relationship) and placed them gently inside the basket he's provided with. Marka never strayed far from his camp, but when he started making calls into the shadows that he hadn't made in front of him, Yuder untied his horse from the tree and started heading deeper into the forest.
He's been graced with more fish than he could stomach to eat in one sitting, and while Yuder was contemplating on bringing them back fresh or eating the grilled fillet piece by piece on the ride back, something growled from behind the bushes. His swiftly released arrow struck down on a hunting dog, its dying whines spurring him into action.
He has been found.
“Marka!” Yuder let another arrow loose, slicing the eyes of another dog and piercing the maw of another before he leapt onto his horse and started galloping away from the glade. He heard the raven call out to him, and offered an arm for it to land. His sharp talons shredded his sleeve when he shoved the noisy raven under his cloak, but Yuder can fix it later.
He needs to outrun his hunters first.
But the terrain of the forest is unfamiliar to him, making Yuder slower than his usual nimble self trying to avoid tree stumps and galloping over streams. The snarls of hunting dogs nipping at his mare's heels forced Yuder to snap her reins, making her sprint faster across the forest. Even Marka had stubbornly wriggled out of his riding cloak, pecking the dogs’ eyes and cockscrewing through the air past snapping maws. Yuder soon saw a familiar river in front of them, one that he'd fished in with the berry bushes he'd picked for his mare, and snapped her reins towards the small cliff a few steps from the edge of the river. He recited a small prayer to the Sun God he's skeptical of, and flattened his body on the back of his trusty ride, letting her leap across the rushing rapids.
Yuder had his eyes clamped shut, forehead pressed against the muscled back of his mare when Marka's noisy tittering made him take a peek at his surroundings. The sight of men mounted on horses grumbling on the other side of the river made Yuder exhale the breath he didn't realize he's holding. None of them bore the descriptions of the mage hiding his features stalking him at the tavern, but Yuder couldn't cross out the possibility of these mercenaries being hired by him yet. There’s still so much he doesn't know about his pursuers. He couldn't detect any trace of overflowing mana coming from the group, so he braved a question towards them.
“What business do you have with me?” He asked from on top of his horse, patting her neck when she huffed at the group on the other side of the river. Yuder has an arrow aimed at one of the hunters before they could pull out their weapons, right at the chest of their leader. “I am not up to negotiations for my life. Leave.”
The hunting dogs prowled around the hunters, pawing at the ground and snarling with drools dripping down their muzzle. Yuder gave them a brief glance. “You're just a brat- what do you think you can do?” The hunter to the left shouted over the river. “You pissed the wrong people, and you're paying for it with your life. We got orders to bring your head in front of our client. It's nothing personal, boy-”
As if on cue, Marka dropped one of his arrows he filched from Yuder's quiver the moment he released the one he had aimed at the leader. It pierced the shoulder of one of the hunters, making him fall off his horse with a grunt of pain as Yuder aimed his next shot at the group.
Both groups were held at a standstill with the river between them. Yuder could feel beads of sweat trickling down the back of his neck, his breaths forced into a measured pace so as to not lose his aim on his pursuers. There's no room for Yuder to slip up here; even with one of them incapacitated on the ground, there are still two adults with three hunting dogs on healthy horses that could outrun and capture him. He gulped, keeping eye contact with the leader of the mercenaries.
He blinked when a bead of sweat dripped into his right eye, and the mercenaries took the split-second opportunity to attack him. Marka shrieked in the air, deflecting something that sailed over the river towards him, but couldn't stop the second dart from finding its target in Yuder's thigh. He let out a surprised hiss, accidentally releasing an arrow that shot through the head of their leader, before he started swaying on top of his horse.
She let out a high-pitched neigh and stomped away, forcing Yuder to cling onto her neck as she galloped through the forest. In his rapidly muddling mind, Yuder remembered the river because it is close to one of the guard posts of the capital's wall. It would take him half an hour to walk towards the appointed location with their customer. Yuder reached back for the basket, palms slick with sweat as he tucked the basket to his chest before yanking the poison dart from his thigh. Marka swooped in to swipe it off his hand, and Yuder gulped, his tongue feeling weirdly large in his mouth. He's having an allergic reaction to the poison too?
The rhythmic sound of horseshoes hitting stone-paved paths reached his ears, soon followed by commotion that was slowly growing louder around him. Yuder couldn't summon even a wisp of energy to force his eyes open to check where he was heading, arguments between the people surrounding him and orders being barked making his head throb along with his heartbeat.
The last thing he remembered is his own screams deafening his ears after something brushed against his thigh, where the poison dart from those mercenaries had struck him, before his consciousness faded to black.
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“If you move around in the bed again, kid, I'm tying you down myself,” warned a man’s voice the moment Yuder's eyes fluttered open.
The wooden ceiling is a common built for buildings in the Seventh Wall, so Yuder couldn't immediately tell where he was. It doesn't have the distinctive smell of food coming from the door, so he probably isn't back at the inn he's staying at. Dust motes danced in the air where the moonlight was beaming down through the open windows, and Yuder could pick up the sharp scent of brewing medicine cooking in a cauldron, alongside some light broth boiling in the fireplace.
Yuder blinked, fingers twitching against the scratchy but warm blanket over his chest. Could it be-
“Why do you have to make your introduction just like Melach? Both of you would be the end of me, I just knew it. Getting into trouble the moment you leave your house in the mountains, are you two thrillseekers just for the fun of it? Is that it?!” A gray-haired man appeared from behind a folding wall, grumbling while he filled a bowl with soup. His citrine eyes glanced at the blinking Yuder on the bed, and he placed the bowl on a desk before offering him a cup of water.
“You're lucky I was your customer for those hawthorne blooms. If I hadn't neutralized the monster blood in that dart right away, the damage would have been worse.” He waited for Yuder to finish the whole cup before handing him the bowl of soup. “What is it that your grandfather needs from me now?”
“He doesn't,” Yuder replied, dropping the spoon back into the bowl. “Are you Enon, the pharmacist living at the Seventh Wall my grandfather told me about?”
“Who else would I be?!”