then reach for a slice of bread before my brothers can eat it all.
It’s still warm.
“What took you?” asks my father. “You’ve been gone longer than I expected.”
“I went to say hello to Frederick.”
Father chuckles. “What did he have to say?”
“He punched me and told me to give it to Gunther.”
“What for?” He’s still got an amused grin on his face.
“Well, uh… for not bringing you grandchildren.”
Father laughs loudly, but Mother turns slightly pink. “Give him another one from me, won’t you?” he says.
“Kadmus…” Mother says sternly. She’s not talking to me; she’s talking to my father, my namesake.
“Alright,” he says. Then he takes another bite of his stew. He gives me a look that says, “I was serious about that.”
I nod and eat.
“When are you planning on leaving tomorrow?” asks Mother.
“Early.”
She rolls her eyes at me, but only says, “Just get me up so I can see you off.”
I nod. “Of course.”
After I finish, Nicholas and Ethan finally notice where I’m sitting and manage to get me off my chair and onto the floor. Mother saves both from a headlock by saying simply, “Time for bed.”
Everyone obeys. “Kadmus, stay,” she commands. I stay.
“You’re going to Terrace tomorrow with Ethan?”
I nod.
“Okay. I’ll give you a little something tomorrow morning.” I give her a questioning look but understand almost immediately afterwards. “Who else is going with you?”
“Percival and James.”
She smiles. “That’ll be fun. I’ll be sure to get some food ready for you to take. Now go get some sleep. You’ll need to be well rested for the road.”
Terrace
The following morning, I and Ethan wake Mother, who gives us each a pack of food to ration for the trip and hugs us each multiple times. Finally she lets us out the door and Ethan and I start our journey.
We follow the dirt path to town, where we meet Percival and James at the stone bridge and tower.
“Ready?” says Percival with a small smile. He’s tall and skinny, though muscular, with a careful nature that makes him indecisive and a little stubborn, but also makes him reasonable and sensible. His bright blue eyes shine with intelligence and wisdom; he’s very down-to-earth and presents a deep understanding of life on a plane almost none else can reach. He wears a humble brown tunic that slightly hugs his form. He’s my age and a baker, and a good one at that.
“Took you long enough,” says James with a hint of sarcasm. His blonde hair sticks up like the statue of Khaoth, but despite all the years I’ve known him I still have not figured out how he does it. He’s not very tall: a few inches less than six feet. He’s got a medium build and is slightly stocky. James is also the polar opposite of Percival: reckless, and most of the time extremely stubborn and hot-headed. He also considers himself a ladies’ man.
I ignore James and answer Percival, “Only if you are.”
He nods. “Let’s be off then!”
The bridge spans just more than twenty yards of water, but is wide enough for two carriages to travel side-by side, even though Virfith hasn’t seen one of those in at least six years. It’s made completely of stone with built-in crenellations, and I marvel at how the builders of the bridge could have constructed such a thing centuries ago.
On the other side of the bridge, we find ourselves outside of the village and on a dirt road that turns right, to run along the riverside. There’s not much conversation along the road; we just enjoy the clear air and the severe verdant beauty of the world.
As the day progresses, the road climbs up a rocky mountainside and away from the river, which continues to flow violently over everything in its path. The opposite side of the river is a titanic cliff face, with fallen trees and dark green growth along the bank. Large boulders from somewhere far up the cliff have made their way into the river, whether over hundreds of years or in only a few moments.
Pine trees grow everywhere. Either side of the path is overgrown. Great boughs hang like arches over the road, welcoming us into their domain. Enormous stumps, at least five or six feet in diameter, mourn silently for their lost luster, which lies either dead and crumbling next to the path or at the bottom of the ravine, lost in the swell of the roaring river. The fallen trees are enormous, with boughs sticking out every which way like a