Tracks in the Cold

[Reference map for this story]

[Previous Chapter]

When Atoi awoke, she was alone. She searched for a note, or any trace of Azapoit, but found nothing. Her companion had vanished. She spent the first half of the day investigating the town of Hoion. No one she spoke to had seen  him. She deduced he had left in the night, or in the early hours of the morning, either to avoid attention, or to avoid unnecessary sunlight.

She ate alone, in a tavern along the main road. As she ate, a tired-looking woman walked in, garbed in the leather cuirass of the town watch. Atoi waved her over.

“What tidings, watch-woman?” she asked. The warrior shrugged as she sat, the axe on her belt clinking softly.

“Few pass through the Parimx Ro this time of year, in either direction. It is too cold for the pack beasts of the desert country, and southerners rarely go north when the winds begin to keen.” Atoi nodded. It was common wisdom among her people that the whistling of the wind could lead travelers astray in these strange lands. “Of course, that means leaner times for the mountain towns,” she continued, “ and lean times engender bandits of all sorts. I have grown to be warier of my fellow folk than of any wild beast. Though last night, as I was watching over the wall, I saw something that was neither man nor beast; and I still do not know what to think of it.” Atoi nearly choked on her stew, and struggled to keep her expression calm and level.

“What did it look like, this man-beast?” she asked.

“It was the size of a man, but it loped along the ground at the pace of a wolf, at times on two legs and often on all four. It was carrying a heavy pack strapped to its back, and it carried it with care, such that I do not believe it was stolen. Frankly, I do not quite believe I truly saw it. It was late, and I might have simply dreamed it up.”

“Were it not for your clear competence, I would not believe it myself. Which way did the creature head?”

“It was watching over the northwestern gate when I saw it, so I expect it was heading northward.”

“*Noadina*, thank you, for both your company and your tale, comrade,” said Atoi, as she stood to leave.

“Safe travels, sister,” answered the watch-woman.

Atoi walked out of the tavern, but as soon as she was a few streets away from it, she began to run. She stopped at the inn, gathered her possessions, and left hurriedly. Then she headed to the northwestern gate.

The watch-woman had spoken the truth: Atoi’s keen tracker's eye could easily spot the distinctive tread of Azapoit’s shoes by the grid of holes they made in the damp soil. She followed them as far as they led her, some octants beyond the town’s wall. There, the tracks became less distinct, and further apart, like those of a running animal. Those too she followed, over dekant after dekant.

For several days she followed the tracks, foraging for food and camping in the cold forests of the foothills of the Parimx Ro. She was slowly gaining on them, and the man who had made them. Azapoit may have supernatural speed and long years of experience, but Atoi had endurance.

She crept carefully through the underbrush, edging closer to the campsite, half a dekant beyond the small town of Hoiparod. It was not long after dawn, and the  fire was out. She could not tell whether Azapoit was there, sleeping, or whether… She turned when she heard the noise, subtle though it was. She reacted instinctively, flicking her blade out from its sheath. He deftly caught it between his palms, and swore under his breath.

“You’re not here to kill me, are you?” he asked, the pain evident in his voice. A small bead of blood formed where the knife had cut into his flesh, and then the cut closed itself.

“No, no- I just came to find you.” She tugged the knife away from his grip, and sheepishly pushed it back into its beaded sheath. “I was angry, alright? You left me alone, with no supplies, in a small town, in the middle of nowhere, in winter- why?”

“Because I didn’t want to reckon with you trying to kill me. Either you’d succeed, which would be unpleasant, or you’d fail and it would taint our relationship. I hope you can forgive me.”

“I- I hope you can forgive my actions, as well. I spoke rashly.” By silent agreement, they both walked to the remains of the fire and sat across from each other.

“Well, if you came to find me, I assume you no longer curse my name and my nature?” She again took in the pallor of his skin, and the prominent canines that he no longer hid when he spoke.

“No, I don’t. Though sometimes I am afraid I am being a fool, and I can do nothing but hope I have not chosen ruin by coming so far from home in your company.” She chuckled. “Maybe I should have expected this turn of events. I left when the veil between worlds was thinnest, but  never for a moment did I believe I would be the one to go between worlds, into this place where nothing makes sense.” Azapoit grunted.

“I’ve been traveling for a long time, and it still feels like I’m wandering through some kind of *pano doakoat*, a fairy-tale land. All you can do is keep going forwards, and do what you think is right.” He grumbled for a moment. “Now, since dawn has broken and I doubt either of us can get any sleep, should we get going?”

“No reason not to; we might as well gain ground while the weather holds.”

“In that case, we head towards Vitan. Vitan is a real city, not one of these mountain towns. It’s nestled between two lakes, and it’s beautiful. It’s also the gateway to the Amodaronra, and beyond them the Toc Paronra Sxiaij. We might even see some of those *taitrako*, the drake-riding gem traders from the other side of the mountains. They’re a sight to see, I assure you.”

“Then I look forward to reaching it, elder. Let us make haste, and leave any quarrel behind us.” They both stood, and Atoi smiled. Azapoit smiled back, revealing his fangs, and hoisted his pack.