The Tales of Miriela: Shadowborn

Chapter 35: Odwin

Odwin had been traveling with the Knights Emerick for days. He was weary, but fed. Although they had little, it was much more than Odwin had ever eaten at the Grounds. They had given him a spare weapon and a bearskin coat to keep warm. The days grew colder as the Southern Pass ascended the Valendale Mountain range, and snow became a familiar sight. Traveling through the mountains was becoming more difficult with each step they ascended, but Odwin favored his company.

"Know how to use it, Odwin?" Sir Benjamin asked as the company walked the winding road.

"The sword?" Odwin replied.

"Ever driven steel through a man's cold flesh?" Sir Benjamin continued.

"Let him be, Benjamin. The boy is a craftsman. He doesn't need to know how to drive a sword through a man, only how to sharpen one," Sir Harold said.

"May be true, but not out here. Not in the Southern Pass. More Uri than usual seem to have made their way South. Not enough food for them in the Unknown North I suppose," Sir Charles said.

"Better learn to use the steel or you'll be food for them before we make our way through. The Uri will eat anything, including men," Sir Benjamin said.

"Especially men," Harold added.

"Aren't they men themselves?" Odwin asked.

"They are. Sick men, at that. There's a special place in the nine Hells for men like the Uri. Eating another man alive is no forgivable act," Sir Daniel said.

"Well, I can use a sword," Odwin argued. He drew it from his hip and swung the steel in a wild slash.

"Wow! Careful there, killer. Use that for Uri, not us," Sir Harold said as he backed away laughing subtly.

"That's enough, young Odwin. Of course, a craftsman can use a sword, it's in his blood. You spend all day with something you'll figure out what to do with it, whether you realize it or not." Sir Charles set his pack down to the ground and let out a sigh of relief. "It's getting late. This will be our place for camp tonight."

"Just off the road, there. I'll start a flame. Night will bring a chill cold enough to kill us all if we're not ready," Sir Harold said.

"Odwin, you and Benjamin go gather some wood. I will go find us a rabbit or two. If not, its bread and beans again," Sir Charles said.

"Gods, I hope for all our sakes there's a few slow rabbits hopping about tonight. Another meal of bread and beans may kill us all before the cold or Uri get another chance," Sir Harold said.

"Odwin," Sir Benjamin tossed Odwin a sack. "Let's go find some firewood."

The two set off, into the woods, just near the road. They had almost reached the peak of the Southern Pass, and were high in the Valendale Mountains. Mist surrounded them often, and the clouds seemed within an arm's reach. Odwin never imagined he would climb into the skies. He imagined that only the Gods stood so tall. But now that he was there, the only thing he could think about, was returning to the ground.

Odwin began picking up sticks and small logs and tossed them into the sack. "Where'd you learn to swing a sword? The way you wielded that blade, I could tell you've trained before. Seems odd for a slave," Benjamin said.

"A slave? Never said anything about being a slave," Odwin responded.

"Didn't need to. A Ferenorian craftsman, of your age, you must have come from the Grounds. Last time I checked, only two things come from there. Overseers and slaves. And you don't look like any Overseer I've ever met."

"I practice with the weapons I make. Swing them around a bit each night," Odwin said.

"I believe that just about as much as I do you claiming to be a free man. Any Overseer who saw a slave doing anything but working would strike them dead." Benjamin had stopped searching for wood. "Someone taught you to use a blade. Didn't they?"