The Hero's Gaze

The well-worn trade road wove its way into the forest. Streaks of light pierced the canopy. After two days of travel, they had reached the midpoint of the Eldermist mountain range. The journey had been mostly quiet. During the day, there was no traffic to speak of, and at night the crackling of a campfire interrupted the silence. Whenever Alaric asked Elara about her duties to her Lady, she would give vague, disinterested replies.

Life on the road. It never lived up to the hype of ballads. There was always something bound to go wrong. Whether it's breakdowns, bandits or worse, awkward silences.

The rhythmic creak of the wheels and birds chirping filled the silence between them. Another hour or so had passed; Alaric wasn’t sure. Alaric glanced at Elara, her eyes fixed on the dirt road ahead, her expression unreadable.

“Elara,” he began, trying to sound casual, “I don't know about you, but I like to get to know the person that I'm travelling with. Passes the time quicker. And seeing as we’ll be travelling together for a while...”

Elara turned her head, scanned Alaric for a moment before staring back at the road. “There’s not much to know.”

Alaric shook his head. “Surely there must be something. What about your family? Where do you come from?”

The road turned a bend. The forest parted for a moment to reveal a valley bathed in sunlight. Elara sighed as she took in the view. “My family is gone. I come from a small village. You wouldn’t have heard of it even if it had a name.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Alaric said, “It must have been hard.”

“It was a long time ago,” Elara said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve moved on.”

Alaric nodded, sensing that pushing further might only make her retreat more. “Well, if you ever want to talk, I’m here. Sometimes sharing can lighten the burden.”

Elara gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. “Thank you, Alaric.”

They continued in silence, the forest around them alive with the sounds of nature. Alaric hoped that, in time, Elara might open up more. For now, he was content to let her set the pace.

“Tell me,” Elara broke the silence. Alaric almost jumped off the bench. “What’s it like to be a god?”

“I’m no god.” Alaric scoffed. “Technically my father is, or was. I was a child when the gods left.”

“You never met him?” Elara turned to face Alaric.

“No.”

“I’m sorry,” Elara placed a hand on his. Alaric felt his heart beat a little faster. He smiled at her. Elara’s eyes softened as she returned one. The wagon rattled as the road turned another curve and the wagon didn’t

“Say,” Alaric said. “Have you driven one of these before?”

“No,” Elara’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t know how.”

“It’s easy,” Alaric slid to the side and raised an elbow high. “Scootch in and grab the controls.”

Elara let out a playful scream as she ducked her head under his arm.

“Got the controls?” Alaric laughed as he let go of the levers.

Elara jerked at the controls, causing the wagon to swerve sharply to the left. Alaric quickly wrapped his arms around her, his hands sliding over hers to steady the controls and bring the wagon back on course. The wagon straightened, then lurched as it sped up and slowed down. They both laughed. Alaric couldn’t remember the last time he smiled this much. Alaric softened his hold on Elara’s hands as she kept the wagon’s speed steady. The road started to bend into a series of ridgebacks on a steeper incline.

“Umm,” Elara said. “Can you take your arm off me?”

Startled, Alaric released his hold. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

“No, it's not that.” Elara’s brow furrowed as she concentrated on the road ahead. “It's just that, you stink.”

Alaric raised his other arm and gave it a quick sniff. His eyes winced as he recoiled from the sting at the back of his nose. He leaned over to Elara and smelt her robe. His nose twisted at the mixture of sweat, dirt and magic. He squeezed his throat.

“What?” Elara cocked an eyebrow at him. “I'm not that bad. Am I?”

“No,” Alaric slid to the edge of the bench. “Not that bad.”

She whacked him on the arm. Alaric laughed as he rubbed his arm.

“You know,” Alaric said, with a mischievous glint, “there’s a hot spring not far from here. We could take a break and freshen up.”

Elara’s eyes lit up. “A hot spring? That sounds amazing.”

They continued along the road up a slight incline. The canopy broke and Alaric’s gaze rose to the snow-capped peaks above. Alaric pointed above and Elara gasped. Soon the trees swallowed the sky. Songbirds squeaked their tunes in the distance.

“It’s just a short hike from the next bend.” Alaric pointed with his chin. “The water is warm and clear, perfect for washing away the grime of the road.”

Elara smiled a rare sight that made Alaric’s heart skip a beat. “Lead the way, then.”

Alaric gestured to a gap between two giant trees. Elara guided the wagon between them and eased the wagon to a stop. They climbed down and stretched their weary limbs. Alaric removed the keystone that started the wagon and led Elara through the woods until he found the narrow path that led to the hot spring. The sound of bubbling water grew louder as they approached, and soon they emerged into a small clearing where a steaming pool awaited them.

“Godsdamnit!” Alaric threw his hands in the air.

Sweaty, bloated families crowded the hot spring. Screaming children ran with wild abandon throughout the glade and stretched their delight before jumping into the water. A few shirtless overweight fathers, sucking down jugs of mead, stood around a fire pit taking turns flipping over slabs of meat. Horses and wagons cluttered a widened trail that Alaric guessed linked further up the main trading road. Alaric could have sworn he felt a few of his teeth crack under the pressure. He felt Elara’s hand on his shoulder.

“There’s a more secluded one further up the road.”

They trudged back to their wagon and were soon back on the road. After a few miles, Aleric veered off and weaved the wagon between trees and shrubs. Eventually, the woods thinned, and they emerged in a large, lush green glade bathed in sunshine. A kaleidoscope of flowers sprinkled the clearing, and a few butterflies flapped their multicoloured wings as they bounced in the air. A few feet away deer stopped grazing to inspect the new arrives before it bounded off. At the centre was a bubbling hot spring surrounded by a stone ring, just big enough for two. Tendrils of steam rose into the air and drifted away on a chilled breeze.

Alaric jumped out and extended a hand to Elara. She placed her hand in his and landed gently on the soft grasses. They strolled to the centre and Alaric shed his travel-worn clothes and slipped into the hot spring, the warm water soothing their tired muscles. He sunk into the hot spring, letting the water cleanse his whole body. Slowly, he sat up, the water bubbled around his chest. His skin prickled at the sensation of the cool air claiming the steam rising from his body. For the first time in days, he felt truly relaxed, the weight of the journey momentarily lifted.

Alaric leaned back against a smooth rock, and Elara stood with her arms folded.

“Turn around.” Elara spun her fingers in a circle.

Alaric turned his back and waited to feel the splash of water from Elara slipping into the hot spring. When he did, he twisted back around to see Elara’s head emerge from the water. She ran her hands through her hair and let the water cascade over her shoulders. “This was a good idea.”

“We both needed this.” Alaric arched his back and rested his head on the stone ring. He let out a deep sigh, his breath mingled with the crisp mountain air. The icy silence between them melted away, replaced by the warmth of shared laughter. They talked about anything and everything that wasn't related to the daily grind of their service—fun memories and the little joys that made life bearable. Alaric didn't want it to end. He savoured every moment, each word, as if they were precious gems, knowing that this rare respite from service was a gift

Elara leaned back, her eyes closed and enjoyed the warmth. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this relaxed.”

Alaric’s gaze lingered on her, the way the steam framed her face, the way her hair clung to her neck. “You look… different when you’re not on duty.”

Elara opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. “Different how?”

“More at ease,” Alaric replied, his voice softening. “More… yourself.”

Elara’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she looked away. “It’s easy to forget who you are when you’re always on duty.”

Alaric moved closer, the water rippling around him. “You don’t have to be on duty now. You can just be Elara.”

She glanced at him, her eyes searching his. “And who is Alaric when he’s not on the road?”

He smiled a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Someone who’s still trying to figure that out.”

Elara’s hand brushed against his under the water, sending a jolt through him. “Maybe we can figure it out together.”

Alaric felt his breath catch as the tension between them became palpable. “I’d like that.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the air thick with unspoken words. Alaric leaned in, his lips almost touching hers. A brown blur streaked between them. He turned to see an arrow embedded in the ground just behind them, the shaft still vibrating from the impact.

“Sorry to interrupt.” A voice called out from the direction of their wagon.

On top of the covered wagon stood a lean man dressed in tight green cotton pants, and a green cotton shirt covered in a hide vest. A green chaperon shrouded the man’s face, only his blonde, manicured beard was exposed to the light. He pulled another arrow from his quiver and notched it in his bow. A hulking brute of a man sat behind the controls.

“What the asshole?” Alaric shot to his feet. The spring water bubbled around his waist. He glanced at his gear and cursed himself for leaving the keystone in the wagon.

“Now, now,” the archer aimed at Alaric. “No need to be a hero trying to impress your lady friend. We’re just going to drive this wagon off into the sunset and nobody has to get hurt.”

“You’re robbing me while wearing a hood? You’re a coward!” Alaric clenched his fists.

“It’s a cowl, not a hood!” The archer barked. “Legally distinct. Besides, maybe you’ve heard of me. Bobbin Snood. The lovably rouge that steals from the rich to give to the poor.”

Bobbin unnotched the arrow and returned it to his quiver before giving an exaggerated bow. He threw back the cowl and gave Alaric a big smile.

“Yeah, I’ve heard of you,” Alaric stepped to the edge of the hot spring. “I’ve heard how you steal from the rich, but I have never heard a poor person say you’ve given them anything.”

“Well,” Bobbin sighed. “Poor as in, poor me. I want what you have.”

Alaric leapt out of the hot spring, snatched up his magical pouch, and pulled out his mace. A dozen archers emerged from the trees, all aimed directly at Alaric

“Woah,” Bobbin laughed. “I can see you’re excited...”

Alaric glanced down, then stared back at Bobbin.

“But you might want to sit back down,” Bobbin continued. “We wouldn’t want a stray arrow to hit the lady now, would we?”

Alaric tightened his grip. His shoulders slumped, and then he dropped his mace.

“Good lad,” Bobbin’s grin grew wider. “I’d love to stay and chat, but we must be off. Driver!”

The brute grunted and the wagon lurched forward. Bobbin swayed to the side and then regained his composure. The archers melted back into the foliage. The wagon, with the goods Alaric and Elara planned to use to infiltrate the Magenta Hand, disappeared. Alaric cursed under his breath as he turned to see Elara retreat behind some bushes to get dressed.

A cold wind froze the blood in his extremities.