Wosche waited on the edge of the treeline for her this time, content that he’d become as familiar as he wanted to with the flora of the Dark Forest for the day.

The Breisachian forests had their own issues, with the Paladins of the Court working full-time to keep their country safe in the Wild easternlands and the lawless sea to their north. Wosche had visited a lot of the country during his teenage years.

He’d railed against how they’d asked him about how racist they were when they found out he was from Weidenland. They asked about the barbarians that plagued the north of his homeland or the dangers of the jungles to their south. Then, as he got older, it became annoying more than outrageous. Then, funny with how many nobles in both countries were so ignorant.

The bad mouthing of other folk was a constant through all of his travel if he was honest about it. Through all the northern human lands Wosche had been to, every folk had jumped at the chance to give an opinion or two on lands they’d never been to and folk they’d never met. His parents told him not to worry about it; all folk simply loved to talk, especially simple folk. Wosche didn’t mention how often he heard the two of them judging others while they sat at the dinner table.

Wosche kept pace with Riu while she fought through the undergrowth. With a cursory look to the other side of the path, he noticed nothing that particularly sprung out to him.

The sun was still low in the sky but its intensity was now warming up to the standard heat that was to be expected in the south. Haran Hill had vanished from Wosche’s view, lost somewhere in the thick treeline behind them.

They’d been walking for perhaps two hours since they’d left the West Gate but at a much slower pace than what they normally would. Another factor to consider was the turns they’d made earlier in the forest. Riu had an uncanny sense of direction about her but Wosche hoped that she’d been keeping a better track of their pathing.

He’d be better off just enjoying the tranquility of the quiet bird songs and long stretches of blessed quiet that engulfed him.

A sizable bush of dill poked out from the side of the road, begging to be plucked. Wosche was happy to acquiesce as he pulled a small portion of its outer branches. As he dropped the dill into his basket, he raised his voice for Riu to hear, “So, this is nice.”

Riu gave no indication that she heard him as she scoured the forest floor several steps out. In the gentle morning light, her high cheeky bones and freckles shone against her pale skin in a way that confounded him. While she was shorter than what was typically desirable, she was unconventionally beautiful with her short, cropped hair and sharp facial features. He wouldn’t call her skinny but she lacked the typical muscle and firmness that most Houseladies worked hard to develop. The word fae went some way to describing her ineffable attraction but he preferred to think of her as vexingly enchanting.

Riu shot him a sideways glance and pursed her lips. Wosche’s eyes flicked away to watch the path ahead of them, conscious that he’d been caught staring.

He let her take the lead and slowed down his pace again. He was starting to sweat but it couldn’t take away how much he enjoyed being out in the woods again, especially a strange new one that he didn’t recognise. The mushroom picking ruse had been a mischievous ploy on Riu’s part but Wosche was chuffed that she’d thought to trick him so.

On the right, a shape zipping silently through the underbrush shattered his calm. Riu was not ten metres away from where it had been and Wosche rushed to pull her back.

As he reached her, Riu turned around, startled at his sudden intensity, “Fi’s Grace, Wosche! What the hell?”

Wosche hesitated before grabbing her arm, checking the forest around her and finding only the  silent shadowy forest waiting for him.

“I thought I saw something.” Wosche stepped back and checked his knife, “I swear it was glowing slightly. And it moved crazy fast.”

“Maybe it was a will-o-wisp.” Riu suggested without a hint of humour as she looked out into the forest.

“Surely not.” Wosche looked across to her, “A will-o-wisp?”

“They’re common folklore in this region.” Riu told him matter-of-factly, “Some say ghosts but others think fae but they’re meant to be exceptionally rare.”

“A-and you think they’re coming for me?” Wosche tremored as he replied to her, face paling in fear.

“I don’t think they’re anything to fear. They’re generally thought of adrift and confused more than nefarious.” Riu comforted him with a strange look, “And you are messing with me, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely I am. They’re fairytales, Riu.” Wosche scoffed, “The lost dead souls of the forest is a ridiculous thing to believe.”

“Will-o-wisps are definitely real.” Riu countered, indignation flashing across her face, “And souls can get lost after death; we know that from the ancient script.”

“The Old Souls of the Testament were not exactly normal folk like you and me and they weren’t wasting time flying through the forest to scare people. Normal folk just move on when they, ” Wosche scanned the forest again for any sign of what he saw, “die.”

“Well, if it comes back, make sure to ask it then.” Riu reproached him playfully.

“Good Gods have mercy on me if it comes back.” Wosche felt his eyes bug out at the idea before it was an even more pressing idea blinked into existence in his brain, “Although, imagine how much money we could get if we managed to capture it.”

Riu gave him a death glare and continued walking, “Trying to catch one is ridiculous.”

“If it flew over head, I think I could snatch it out of the air. I have good reflexes.” Wosche bragged shamelessly, “I think I could catch it.”

“Wait, so how much do you actually know about them?” Riu whacked him with her basket.

“What do you mean?” Wosche tapped her gently back with his basket, “And, seriously, how did you forage so much stuff?”

Riu bumped him with her basket as she replied, “And will-o-wisps are incorporeal, that’s why people think they’re a ghost.”

“Which would make it hard to catch.” Wosche acknowledged, his mind whirring at how cool ghost hunting would be.

“Stop. If you did manage to touch it, you’d get paralysed. For, I have no idea how long.” Riu stopped and turned towards him, “And then, I’d have to carry you home.”

“But you would carry me home?” Wosche reached.

“Don’t bet on it. Especially if there is a wisp flying around.”

“Rude.” Wosche shook his head disapprovingly and held out his hand towards her, “How about you let me carry that basket for you? As a way of thanks for this morning.”

Riu kept the basket at her side and waited patiently for him to finish his bit.

“And to ensure you come back for me.”

“And you can filch my mushrooms when I’m not looking. You rogue.”

Wosche flashed her a grin and pushed on into the forest, “I would never.”

Wosche huffed and strode forward indignantly. He’d not considered stealing her mushrooms but he bookmarked the idea as a good way to annoy her. With another forlorn look back, he ignored the little voice in his head that advised him that they needed to head back and refocussed on more important matters that he needed to attend to, ‘So, the will-o-wisp could paralyse me for life?”

Riu raised her eyebrows and said nothing until she reached him. When she did, she handed him her basket and she passed him by.

Wosche happily accepted her basket, juggling the two basket so he had one in each hand. With a gentle swing of each, he watched their treasures shift and settle.

They walked in silence for a while longer, the forest swallowing them in its timeless canopies. Riu had stopped looking on the edge of the road and happily strode down the centre of the road, looking completely relaxed as Wosche lugged the baskets behind her. Even with the near total shade on the secluded trail, sweat began to form on his lower back as he walked. The baskets weren’t overly heavy but they were cumbersome and now their foraging was over, Riu was setting a far brisker pace.

Wosche shifted his basket further up his left arm and reached behind to rub the sweat off with the back of his hand. He grimaced and flicked the sweat off to the side of the road before Riu could see, “We’re starting to get pretty far out.”

Riu didn’t respond, instead continuing to walk further into the forest with her hands behind her back. His voice got stuck in his throat as he went to get her attention. Her short auburn curls bounced on the top of her head as she wandered, catching the light when it managed to break through the trees above them. The side of her head was shaved with several crescents and stars delicately shaped by her most recent visit to the hairdresser. She called her hairstyle her only indulgence as she hired the hairdresser to shave new patterns in her hair whenever it grew out.

It was a new hairstyle for her and Wosche thought it suited her well. Finding a hairdresser that was happy to cut her long hair off and shave her sides was one of her first priorities when they’d arrived in Ol’Haran and she’d had four or so patterns cut by the same gentleman.

Yet another example of her being awesome was Wosche’s opinion. Yet another surprise from the shy heir of the First Family of House Wethea.

Plenty of time to wander. If they were late to get back, they could skip lunch or be late to class. Suddenly both of them seemed less important than spending quality time with one of his favourite folk. A change of shirt would be good but he could manage that easily.

The logic was fallible but he didn’t overly care. He was having too much fun to worry about things like tardiness and time management. Getting to know Riu was something he’d wished he’d done all the way back when he’d rejoined the Academy. She was Ellen’s bookish House friend more than anyone in Wosche’s social circle and that had hidden how cool she was. He’d thought she was the nerdy type, always in the workshop or the library. A First Family who had no time for his nonsense.

A description she’d probably agree with as she tutted him, no doubt. She had a dry wit about her that Wosche couldn’t get enough of and she saw the world for what it was, but chose not to comment on it unless pressed. She wasn’t some rich First Family girl who did whatever her mother told her to do nor was she someone he could charm with sweet words and idle promises.

During their first week in Ol’Haran, when he’d tried to get to know her, she interrupted him and dressed him down with little decorum. She’d told him to stop being so banal and spend his time becoming notable rather than trying in vain to make her notice him. Wosche smiled at the memory. He could still remember the shock when she had read him so easily just to leave standing in the cafeteria, dumbstruck.

And that wasn’t even the best part; the more time he spent with her, the more he enjoyed the tiny, crotchety old lady in a young person’s body that was his new friend Riu.

Raised on the rough western coast with a life pre-destined from the moment she was born. In a few years, she’d have the Lead mantle wrapped over her shoulders to tie her to a life in the courts. She’d do well but Wosche felt a pang of regret as she saw just how happy she was drifting lost in the Dark Forest, “Heavy is the head...”

Hearing his own voice startled himself out of his fugue. Riu looked back but didn’t question his weirdness. She probably hadn’t even heard him. He was just falling behind like normal. With her hands behind her back, she continued, unbothered.

It was frankly embarrassing to Wosche that he was the more up-tight one of the pair. He was outside, footloose and carefree. He needed to just enjoy it while he could. In the spirit of enjoying himself, he poured the contents of his basket into Riu’s and increased his pace again.

Carefree. Carefree was a word that had been bouncing around his head for the last few months. A souvenir of another time that he was read like a book by a powerful woman.

Carefree was what Viera had called him when they had their first meeting in Kudraul. She had suggested they meet when his parents had mentioned his desire to join the others in Ol’Haran. His parents had happily agreed and, within an hour, she had analysed and reprimanded him for his wasteful youth and rash decision making.

Wosche had wanted to complain but Viera had admonished him for gaining his accomplishments through his raw talent rather than his drive or grit. In front of his parents, she scolded him for being average in what he wasn’t inspired by; magic and geography were her examples and she told him that his parents deserved better.

You can join the others down south but you will be there to learn, young GrenPolm.

When he’d agreed, he didn’t realise he was going to have tutorials scheduled for his arithmetic, geography, while he learnt Eastern Common in private time as well. Studying so much was exhausting but he refused to complain. If Viera wanted to challenge him then he would show her he was petty enough to become driven.

He’d tell her he’d become a famous adventurer and that he’d been working hard to be the best adventurer she’d ever seen. He’d learnt how to pick locks and all the junk she’d made him learn had primed him to be exceptional. He could take on the most dangerous contracts of all the nations, fight dragons, delve dungeons and find the Fohoven Wizards on the eastern coast and do it all for the glory of Weidenland. Then, when she tells him no, he’d tell her that he’d become a fantasy writer. See how she felt about him wasting his potential by writing about imaginary things like people flying in giant metal dragons and worlds where folk could communicate their thoughts from one side of the world to the other instantaneously.

She’d hate that even more but there was nothing to be done about it. Viera wanted him to say he’d become a mage. It was what everyone wanted him to do. Both of his parents were incredibly gifted mages and he was a decent hand at runesmithing with botane and electrical mana. Having people pressured him to be a mage was so played out. He would tell them he just wanted to enjoy life and they’d go on about how good he would be if he just tried.

As he swung the baskets, they bumped into his leg with a pleasing consistency. Bonk, bonk, bonk. All he wanted was in the south. In the forest with him. Becoming a mage would mean he would sit in a workshop all day, hanging out with the same three people every day. He’d seen his parents sit in their shed all weekend to try and get their projects finished on time and he wanted nothing to do with all that much stress and that many late nights.

No, he would stick with the three nerds he knew and the promise of adventures. Even with the early morning, spending time in the fresh air while he carried Riu’s belongings was the good life.

Several metres ahead and closing in, Wosche noted Riu several steps inside a large blackberry bush. Wosche moved up to join her, pausing at the trail’s side to hold out his basket for her.

She hesitated before she passed them over, “If that is your basket with all of my mushrooms,”

“Then, I am in big trouble,” Wosche finished for her, “But it is not. I put my mushrooms and herbs in with your collection. You are welcome.”

“Hmm,” Riu dropped the blueberries into the basket and looked up into the tree canopy, “We should head home.”

“I was thinking the same thing. Want to meet for lunch before classes?” Wosche asked as he backed up a few steps for her. The chivalrous thing to do in his mind but also the pragmatic one. He could sense that he was starting to work up a stink that he preferred to keep to himself.

Riu stayed in the blackberries and watched him carefully, “I thought we could go straight to the market and then get some tarts.”

“Oh, that would be great.” Wosche backpedaled happily, “I was planning on switching shirts before we went out again.”

“Because of your B.O.” Riu nodded thoughtfully, “But we will be training tonight anyway.”

“Oh, well.” Wosche’s tongue stumbled as the heat rose in his cheeks, “Yeah, markets sound good. Training sounds less good.”

Riu grumbled in agreement. They’d all agreed that the extra weekend training sessions were the worst. They’d not only had to change the sparring from the morning to the evening to compensate for Ellen and Teon’s tournament preparation, but added more training for all of them as some cruel unjustified punishment.  Seven days a week for Riu and Wosche and thirteen for Teon and Ellen. Wosche felt for them with their double sessions. He remembered the days of being perpetually sore well.

Not that they both weren’t slightly to blame. Both Teon and Ellen had jumped at Viera’s offer to endorse them for the junior tournaments in Dark Hold. She’d given them her conditions and a few days to consider but both of them had barely waited for Viera to finish her question before they’d agreed.

Wosche knew better but had no chance to tell them. He’d been fooled with the same offers many times over and the junior tournaments weren’t worth all the hassle. It was always so much drama and if the most Viera asked of Ellen and Viera was for them to do extra morning training sessions, then they’d gotten off easy.

“What are you thinking about?” Riu prompted him as she stepped back onto the path.

“The tournament. And the other two.” Wosche replied, pleasantly surprised she asked.

Riu stood up and looked up the path before them and turned back towards him, “It’s next week.”

Wosche stepped aside and motioned for her to begin walking back to town, “Yeah, I can’t wait.”

“Hmm,” Riu looked at him suspiciously and started walking, “There’s still time to join.”

“No no, I am excited to watch the bouts, not join. I can’t wait for the spectacle of the tournament. As a spectator.”

“Ah, crystal clear.” Riu nodded impishly, “You’re there for the revelry.”

“Exactly!” Wosche grinned back, “Some well-earnt down time. Do you know how long it has been since I attended a tournament instead of participating?”

“Why would I know that?” Riu responded and looked him dead in the eye.

Wosche felt the blood rush immediately to his head, “I, ah, it was when I was six years old. Such a long time ago.”

Riu shrugged, “You might find it boring when you are in the audience; it’s mostly just a load of drunken idiots.”

“One more this year,” Wosche grinned wolfishly and puffed up his chest.

“Lucky audience.” Riu rolled her eyes and went back to checking the trail’s edge for more mushrooms, “And so we’ll lunch?”

“Absolutely, I can just be smelly.” Wosche reaffirmed, eager to lock the extra time in, “But you’ll need to sit next to me in class to buffer the smell from the others.”

“I am also smelly.” Riu offered back as she crouched down and disappeared into the fernery again, “Perhaps Ellen can sit next to you and then I will take the corner table.”

“She’ll probably be stinky too.” Wosche laughed.

Riu joined him before slowing down to look at yet another find in the forest.

“Riu…” Wosche began but ran out of steam.

“Last one, have a look at this one.” Riu skidded down a slight slope on the side of the path to retrieve a small, pale mushroom from the fern fronds, “Voila.”“Oh very nice.” Wosche replied cheerily, “It’s a mushroom.” “An interesting one. Give me a hand?”Wosche jumped at the chance to help her. He held out his hand and Riu happily dropped the mushroom into his hand before wiping the back of her shirt. Wosche took the mushroom and gave it a careful, considered inspection while Riu scrambled back up the slope. She pressed against his side to get a closer look at her find and clicked her tongue in thought. It was similar to the field mushrooms that Wosche had cooked in the capital but smaller and more sickly looking. It was white with a slightly yellow complexion on the top of its cap. Under his cap were thin gills with bits of fleshy skin hanging off its edges. He put it up to his nose and breathed in its earthy, slightly sweet aroma, “Maybe it is the southern version of the field mushroom.”“Maybe, or its poisonous cousin.” Riu countered as she stepped past him.“What?” Wosche started and pulled the mushroom away from his face.“Well, it kind of looks like one of the mushrooms that Madame Tygil showed us in Botany class.” Rui said, deep in thought, “I’d give it a fifty-fifty chance.”

Wosche’s mouth went dry at the idea, “Fifty fifty?”

“Fifty fifty.” Riu smiled evilly, “It could just be a field mushroom, fifty percent is a good chance that it wouldn’t kill you.”

“Well, shit.” Wosche carefully rolled down his sleeve to cover his right hand so he could switch the mushroom from his left, “Is it poisonous to touch or just to eat?”

Riu took a few steps back towards town before she turned back to look at him, “Oh, I wouldn’t want to be wrong.”

Wosche took a few steps behind her before dropping the mushroom with the blackberries, “Riu, this is cruel and unusual punishment, are you messing with me?”

“Why would I mess with you?” Riu waited for him to come closer and inspected the mushroom as it rolled around the bottom of his basket, “It definitely could possibly be the southern variant of the northern field mushroom potentially.”

“That is no help.” Wosche muttered darkly. The mushroom didn’t appear particularly malevolent. He could have sworn poisonous foods were always a bright colour, not dull like the weird little mushroom.

Wosche dawdled behind again and elected to pick the mushroom back up in his sleeve. The gills looked suspicious but he didn’t know what signified poisonous mushrooms. What he needed was a little label that said Do not eat on its stalk.

As he turned it over to check its stalk, the mushroom fell from his grip. His sleeve shifted with the mushroom and he dropped his left hand to snatch it out of the air before he returned it back to the basket. The damned thing could be yet another curiosity for Maive if Riu agreed.

Wosche caught Riu’s slow ambling pace quickly and Wosche began to rue just how quickly their morning had passed.

“Electrical rune binding today.” Wosche commented absentmindedly, “Should be fun.”

“Msr. Asher said we will learn the mana’s applications after we run through safety protocol.” Riu replied as she floated happily down the forest path.

“If we get through all the safety protocols. He’s been so intense about safety since Teon’s mishap.” Wosche complained while he kept an eye on the mushroom rolling around his basket, “It’s crazy that we have to spend so long on runes in a final year class.”

“Rune binding is an essential part of being a mage,” Riu tutted with a stern look.

“Can’t do magic without it,” Wosche agreed heartily with a smirk, “Though, Viera gives some folk a pass when it is convenient it seems.”

“Only during her tutorials when we’re focussed on using bijous. In normal classes, Teon has to bind like the rest of us.” Riu rebutted as she rolled her eyes, “Plus, she is different.”

Wosche leapt at the chance to discuss the enigma that was Teon the mage, “I am just shocked that everyone just lets her not bind her own runes. My parents would throw a fit if I asked to buy store-bound runes.”

“Your parents would be happy if you bought store-bound if you dedicated yourself to magic studies. Regardless, she is different.” Riu corrected him.

“Is she really that good?” Wosche asked astonished, “So good that she gets to skip the basics?”

“Not anymore. Not in the south,” Riu replied happily, “But yes. Better.”

“Better?” Wosche asked, working hard to keep pace as she started to increase their pace.

“Better than you think. Better than you can imagine.” Riu stated matter-of-fact despite how insulting the implication was, “She can wield a huge amount of magic with a better handle on four of the elements than most of the teachers at the Institute. At the age of sixteen.”

Wosche let out a whistle, “Quite the commendation. So better than you and Ellen?”

“By an order of magnitude more than Ellen.” Riu gave him a side eye and bumped him with her hip, “But she is the weakest fighter in our quartet so it all balances out. She’ll improve eventually, after she licks her wounds from the upcoming tournament.”

Wosche felt a wave of elation and bumped her back, “I don’t know about that. The tournament, not the magic stuff. I think we’re in for an upset, given how fierce she’s been in training. She wants that win.”

“True, but wanting it isn’t always enough, especially with so much competition.” Riu noted as she grabbed onto her basket’s handle again.

Wosche relented and let go of her basket, “So many outlanders. It is going to be brilliant.”

“You should have entered.” Riu commented nonchalantly as she settled her basket back on her arm.

Wosche shook his head, “I’ll be too busy. And if I win the tournament, I get all the same Housers asking me to join the circuits again. I’m there to watch the outlanders fight Weidenland’s best.”

“Outlanders like Breisachian nobility.” Riu dangled for him like bait for a fish.

Wosche ignored her ploy, unwilling to relive the rivalries of yesteryear, “And The Northern Isles as well. So, with Mahenia, we have the four nations alliance coming to little old Dark Hold.”

“Oh.” Riu exclaimed in playful outrage, “There is no way you believe in the four nations rumours.”

Wosche scoffed in retaliation. He wanted to believe in the four nations alliance was his answer. His mother would talk about the theoretical sometimes, incessantly back when the Northern War wreaked havoc on their country and stole her friends to fight on the frontline.

“No, but it can’t hurt to have some of our neighbours over for a little party.” Wosche responded flippantly.

“True, and if the Northern Isles can do something about the pirates in the Noh Sea, then all the better.” Riu commented and her eyes narrowed for a second before she spoke again, “The name of the mushroom Madame Tygil showed us was something like Death Top Mushrooms. But don’t be scared.”

“Don’t be scared? Of the Deathtop Mushrooms?” Wosche checked the awful little mushroom caught in the corner of his basket, “Cautious is what I would say I am feeling. Cautious of how dry my throat feels right now.”

“Mmm,” Riu hummed as her face settled back into the firm facade that Riu put on most days.

As Riu increased her speed, Wosche worked hard to keep up, knowing the real world was fast approaching again. Sadly. Back to busy streets and busier folk. Back to having to pretend he was listening to his teachers as they covered the same topics and lessons that he had listened to many times before.

Back to playing nice with the Institute teachers to make sure his parents didn’t come down to drag his ass back to Ol’Haran. Back to the passive aggressive letter he’d received from his father a few days ago, reminding him of his promise to get Lead in the next Exams.

“Shit.” Wosche muttered under his breath while he walked.

“Hmm?” Riu watched him from the side of her eye as she marched on.

“Just,” Wosche tried to figure out how he could delicately say that his parents were going to kill him at the end of the year, “I promised my parents I would get Lead in the Exams.”

Riu let out a lilting chuckle, “Oh. Oh no. Why would you make that promise?”

“I didn’t have a lot of options.” Wosche joined in on the chuckle at his own misfortune, “They really didn’t want me to join you three down south.”

“I can’t imagine why, joining disgraced final year Housers at a second rate school? Sounds like a great plan.” Venom leaked out of the word Houser as Riu said it, “Very brave to come down south to become the best student in all of Weidenland.”

“I didn’t really think it through,” Wosche shrugged and tapped Riu’s basket lightly with his basket, “I figured it didn’t make sense not to go down south if I was already going to lose to the likes of Ellen and Rean in the Exams. Either way, my parents were going to be pissed so why not?”

“Rean,” Riu scowled at their name before she continued, “but I wouldn’t worry about the Exams if I were you.”

“Oh yeah? How come?” Wosche asked, curious to hear Riu’s unique spin on his dismal situation.

“Given the way things are going, we’ll be fighting a war with Karitia before the end of the year anyway.” Riu stated frankly, “At that point, no one is going to care who is Lead at that point.”

“Oh,” Wosche felt his stomach drop at the idea, “Oh, I don’t like that.”