One foot in front of the other. Again, and again, and again. Travelling by foot may have been good exercise but it was certainly an exercise in tedium. The occasional vista elicited an appreciative nod, but otherwise the road winding through the countryside remained largely devoid of substance or interesting circumstance. Sometimes we had to stand off to one side to allow a carriage to pass.

  Riveting stuff.

  After the first few days of the journey, I insisted we jog a portion of it, much to Lionel’s amusement. I needed something to keep me occupied, and recreating portions of my usual routine was the most obvious solution. I hadn’t realized how much I’d come to depend on my exercises and practice, how much I relied on it to fill days where once that role was dominated by a plethora of short-minded internet content.

  A part of me still missed it. Not the grind of underappreciated work and ever mounting costs of living, but the small luxuries and ambient comforts. I hadn’t eaten chocolate in over a decade. I didn’t know if it even existed in the world I found myself in, but I held onto hope that it did. Boundless entertainment, the cumulative knowledge of humanity at my fingertips… I never really took advantage of it all the way I could have - should have.

  What I wouldn’t have given to be able to research The System in a search engine.

  Dwelling on my first life was a dangerous practice, though, likely another reason I so often sought to keep myself and my mind preoccupied with other matters. For as much as I missed junk food and my computer, it was the people I left behind that haunted me.

  It had been a while since I allowed my mind to truly linger on thoughts of my fiancé. Perhaps that was why the wound, the loss, still felt so fresh. Whenever it flared, I shied away, and so it continued to fester even as I drew strength from it like a twisted leech that fed on my own sadness.

  Unfortunately, the days of travel failed to afford me my usual escape. Even as I endeavoured to clear my mind of memories of home, it was instead filled with thoughts of Bella that snuck in through the cracks.

  I wondered how she was faring. I wondered how she was feeling. Her life would likely never be the same again, and every passing worry or hypothetical carried with it the sting of guilt.

  It gnawed at me, and through the roughly chewed holes I saw my fiancé's disappointed face. She was a bastion of altruism if ever there was one, a woman who would give up her time and convenience for the sake of others, strangers and all. Once, we missed most of a concert caring for a stray sheep she happened to spot on the side of a country road en route to the event. It was ridiculous, really, but it was her and I loved her for it.

  When Bella was taken, I didn’t speak up. I didn’t even try. It was a pragmatic choice; there was almost certainly nothing good that could have come from sticking my neck out on her behalf. Still, no matter how much I threw my own brand of logic at the matter I could not help but feel certain my fiancé would have tried anyway, and would feel disappointed to learn that I didn’t.

  I’d once heard that a person often regrets the things they didn’t do more than the things they did. I was starting to agree with the sentiment.

  -0-0-0-0-0-

  “Were I to abandon you tonight, Will, are you confident in your capacity to navigate back to Elbura?” I was giving Fudge an idle scratch behind his ears when Lionel asked the question. We’d set up camp for the evening and we usually passed the time in companionable silence. For whatever reason, Lionel was opting not to bombard me with inane chatter on the road and I was too proud to ask for it.

  He’s doing it on purpose, I surmised, forgetting for a moment that I still hadn’t addressed the question. I took a moment to think about my answer.

  “Yes,” I said slowly, “but only because it would largely be a matter of following the road back in the opposite direction.”

  “What if the road were to suddenly vanish?”

  “My chances of success would probably plummet,” I admitted. “Dare I ask why you ask?”

  “Do you?”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  I swear to fucking-

  “Why do you ask?” I saw a glint in Lionel’s eyes and quickly snapped before he could seize my error. “Why do you ask about my ability to navigate back to Elbura?”

  Lionel shrugged and took a bite from the dried beef that made up the majority of our travel rations recently.

  “No reason,” he said nonchalantly.

  He definitely does this on purpose, I thought dryly. The vindication I felt almost enough to calm my mounting frustrations.

  “However, your ignorance does present an opportunity.” Lionel pointed skyward. “Did you know it is possible to navigate by reading the stars?”

  I did, broadly speaking, but hadn’t heard reference to it as Will before so I played dumb.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “Really?”

  Lionel shot me a nod and grinned. “Really. Unfortunately, I lack the relevant skill set, so I cannot impart upon you the trick to it.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Why do you sound smug?”

  “That, young Will, is an excellent question. My reason is thus; while navigating by the stars is beyond my expertise, I did not say I was without methods of my own. Would you like to learn?” He reached down to throw a small handful of twigs into our modest fire.

  “Definitely,” I said without hesitation.

  “Then learn you shall,” he crowed, arousing an unamused look and snort from Fudge. “First, though, geography.”

  It was all I could do to suppress my groan. Geography was not my favourite subject my first go around and that particular facet of my identity remained blissfully unchanged. Lionel must have caught the displeasure on my face, though, and had the audacity to tut at me.

  “I can assure you, you will endure,” he said dryly.

  “It is not enduring that worries me, but yes, your point is taken.” Lionel nodded in approval and released a low whistle. The sound seemed to rumble through the ground, and I watched as a patch of earth by the fire cleared, leaving behind a segment of gently illuminated dirt.

  “Always impressive,” I said genuinely.

  “I am rather spectacular, in that your accuracy is to be commended, but the earth remains a frustratingly resistant audience. Hence, practice.” He whistled again and the dirt began to vibrate. A thick line started tracing itself through the ground, the kind of thing Lionel could have easily achieved with his finger were he not inclined to show off.

  An irregular circle took shape.

  “This is Bosquelia,” Lionel said, naming the country we lived in. I was familiar with it in passing in that Tina mentioned it once or twice in my lessons. It had just never been especially relevant in my day-to-day life.

  “I see you are quite the artist,” I commented flatly. I’d never seen Bosquelia represented on a map, but I doubted the country was so circular. The unamused stare Lionel levelled in my direction all but confirmed my suspicions.

  “Sarcasm is a rather low form of wit, young Will.”

  “Who said I was being sarcastic?” I took no small amount of pleasure in throwing Lionel’s nonsense right back at him.

  “If I were not so proud of you right now I do believe I would be annoyed,” he said, seemingly earnestly, which somehow ruined it for me.

  Well played. I gestured for him to continue.

  Another whistle, and a squiggly line wrapped its way around one side of the circle.

  “The Forest,” he said by way of explanation. “It extends beyond the borders, of course, but for our purposes know that journeying West from almost anywhere in Bosquelia will see you arriving at its edge.”

  Lionel looked to me for confirmation of comprehension so I gave him a quick nod. Fudge rolled onto his back and kicked vaguely at the air with one of his hind legs, demonstrating that he almost certainly was not following along.

  Lionel held up a finger for a brief moment then pointed off into the night.

  “That way is West,” he said proudly.

  “I take it this is the part where I ask how you know that?”

  “Correct, and since a charitable mood has struck me I will abstain from enforcing that requirement.” He chuckled and held up his finger again. “I noted ambient mana in the notes I provided you.”

  “You did,” I confirmed.

  “When a puff of unattuned mana is released into the air, it starts to disperse,” he waggled his finger for emphasis. “It is a subtle thing, but before dispersion, mana is pulled towards The Forest where the mana density is higher. Since The Forest lies Westward…” He trailed off expectantly.

  “We can use mana to find the West,” I finished.

  “Exactly,” Lionel said with a snap of his fingers. “Fortunately, your proficiency in the production of unattuned mana means it is simply a matter of practice.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “No additional advice? No explanation as to why mana behaves in that way?”

  Lionel matched my expression.

  “Most definitely not,” he said, feigning outrage. “I would not deny you the underlying mysteries.” He leaned in a little closer. “Unless, of course, you believe yourself incapable of deciphering this simple trick without explicit guidance?” I didn’t miss the questioning inflection to his voice.

  “I know what you are doing right now,” I said dryly.

  “Is that so?”

  “It is.”

  “And?”

  “Yes, I will figure it out myself. Happy?”

  “In this? Yes.”

  I scoffed but was eager to replicate Lionel’s feat all the same. My gaze drifted towards the direction Lionel indicated earlier in our conversation.

  Yeah, that’s the kind of bias I don’t want clouding my judgement for a first attempt, I thought, disappointed. I could practice while we walked.

  “How much longer until we reach the Slayer Fort anyway?” I asked, fully expecting Lionel’s usual response: ‘soon.’

  Lionel was poking at the fire with a stick and didn’t look my way when he answered.

  “We will reach our destination before tomorrow’s end.”

  It took me a moment to register the answer.

  “Wait, really?”

  “Really.” For a long moment, the crackle of the fire was the only sound as reality set in. As much as I complained, there was a certain simplicity to travelling with Lionel that I suspected would not be possible when whatever training awaited me began in full force.

  “Well. Good, then,” I said, too proud to admit I’d enjoyed myself. I chuckled in the way someone does when made uncomfortable by their feelings, a sign that it was time to change the subject. “In that case, do you have any advice for Recovery? No need to answer tonight; it is close to the bottleneck though and I figure we can make it a focus when you start training me.”

  Lionel looked back up at me, then, confusion on his face. I saw the gears turn in his head before a flash of guilty panic broke his usually relaxed fa?ade.

  “It is only just occurring to me that I have made an error,” he said stiffly. “Will, I will not be taking charge of your training. I am merely your escort.”

  I blinked.

  “Huh?”

  I loved reading the responses to this chapter over on Patreon. Some folks saw Lionel's revelation as an obvious one, others, like Will, were caught off-guard by it. How about you?

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