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Fantasy Call of the Wyld (with tiffybone92)

Finn smiled. The idea of the Luminous Chancellor crying over a splinter was ludicrous. He had healing magic, of course. Finn imagined something like a splinter was next to a joke to someone with such power as he had.

At Sabina’s much more warm greeting, Finn raised an eyebrow. He shook her hand, glancing between her and Percy. Was this the secret to Sabina’s good mood?

He chewed on his lip at the next question, glancing between the three high elves. “Erm. Yes. I think so. Although I would recommend we keep some extra clothes. Nights in the mountains are, erm, quite cold.”

Finn cleared his throat. He waited, expectantly. But, since the three of them were still staring at him, he grimaced and loaded his own things into the wagon before mounting one of the horses.

“Shall we go?” he said, his voice far too uncertain even for his liking, and led the way out of the city.
 
“Extra clothes?” repeated Sabina, looking back towards the chests of Cedric’s attire they had moved off of the wagon. “Ah, well,” she said eventually, shrugging. “I’m sure he’ll live.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Cedric muttered, rolling his eyes. “I’m not that fragile.”

“Sure…” answered Sabina, grinning. “Who wants to bet that Cedric complains about the cold in two nights time?”

“One night,” Percy interjected quickly. “I’ll bet you five gold pieces he’s a shivering mess by tomorrow night.”

“I’ll take that bet!”

Cedric gritted his teeth. “Yes,” he said hastily to Finn’s question. “Please, let’s get on the road.”

Cedric could hear Percy and Sabina snickering behind him as he sat- rather closely, he realized- next to Finn near the front of the wagon. He was rather relieved that Finn had chosen to take the reins himself as Cedric, naturally, had never had to navigate a wagon. Or anything, really.

He felt a surprising pang of heartache as he watched the city he had known as his life become smaller and smaller as they pressed ahead. Would he ever see those cobbled streets again? He would be glad to never see his father’s stony face, but to never see those dungy walls of The Starfall Haven Tavern again?

He hadn’t realized until it was far, far out of sight that perhaps the place he had so truly loathed had also been a place of sanctuary and safety.

And leaving it behind left him feeling more vulnerable than he ever had in his entire life.

Attempting to ease his anxiousness, Cedric cleared his throat. “Well,” he started, his voice a little higher in tone than he had been expecting. “Where is the first location we will be focusing our efforts on?”
 
Finn looked back to the others. They seemed…amused by Cedric’s discomfort. His brow furrowed. Perhaps it was more than that, though. Perhaps there was a history behind their teasing.

“I have some clothes you can borrow if you need,” Finn said easily, “but it shouldn’t be that cold just yet.”

He leaned forward, elbows on knees. Beneath the shadow of the trees, Finn felt more comfortable. Relaxed. The tension that had risen his shoulders and clenched his fingers lifted with the breeze in the branches.

“I thought we might start at Moonshade,” Finn said, breathing deep of the fresh air. “Rumors of strange hallucinations from travelers and locals alike. Dead relatives roaming around. Animals looking a bit…wrong.”

Finn shuddered. He shook his head. “I hope we can identify the problem.” He straightened, then turned to Cedric.

“You all right?” Finn asked, frowning as he noticed the Chancellor looking a bit strange. What was that expression on his face? Finn had trouble placing it.
 
“Oh, I’m fine,” Cedric lied quickly, clearing his throat once again. “Of course,” he added, with a slight shiver going down his spine, “‘dead relatives roaming around’ doesn’t exactly sound like a good thing.”

Cedric noticed how tan and muscular the wood elf’s forearms were as he leaned forward to steer. Cedric hastily turned to his right, watching as the trees passed by them. “So… Moonshade…” he repeated, observing as the woodland birds flew from their branches. “I’m not as familiar with that city… Do you know if it’s mostly inhabited with wood elves or high elves?”

“Urgh, I hope it’s not a bunch of high elves,” commented Percy, crossing his arms. “I’m so relieved to be out of that pretentious city I would hate to think we’re heading right to another one.”

“Might I remind you,” Cedric replied, rolling his eyes, “that you too are a high elf?” He shrugged. “Plus, am I really so bad?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” Sabina interjected. “Or do you honestly want us to answer that one?”

“Okay, okay” Cedric conceded, waving his arms. “I may be a touch pretentious at times, but considering how I was raised, I think I turned out as well as I could!”

“That’s true,” admitted Sabina. “Perhaps even if it is full of high elves, one or two of them may be decent.”

“Let’s just hope they’re willing to take our help,” Percy said. “And that they’re welcoming to outsiders.”
 
Finn didn’t think Cedric was being honest with him. Not that it mattered. Asking had been a show of concern, not to gain intimate details about what Cedric was thinking.

It didn’t mean he wasn’t curious, though.

“Moonshade is about three days’ travel away,” he answered, sighing. “Inhabited by mostly wood elves—mostly those who have been ostracized from high elf society. Those who live on the outskirts of high elf cities in order to get by.”

At least, that was what Finn had been told. But with three seemingly friendly, helpful high elves joining his cause with few questions, he wasn’t so sure.

Indeed, these few seemed to be just as critical of their kind as Finn was. Was it a ruse? He had no idea.

Finn glanced with uncertainty back at Percy. “I’ve no idea how welcoming they’ll be. But if I speak for you, perhaps they’ll listen.”
 
“Ooo, yeah…” commented Percy, grimacing. “It doesn’t exactly sound like many will particularly enjoy our company in Moonshade.”

“I mean, can you really blame them?” Cedric frowned, thinking of someone like Finn struggling everyday while someone like himself played courtesan and ate until their stomachs could hold no more. It made him even more glad he was finally escaping from that disconnected, unfeeling world.

“I suppose not,” Percy replied, smirking. “I barely enjoy your company as it is.”

“Oh, ha ha.”

“Three days travel, eh?” remarked Sabina, watching the trees pass beside her with boredom. “I suppose that isn’t such a long time. We’ll be there before you know it.”

“In the meantime,” said Percy, leaning against the back of the wagon, “perhaps I can get a little nap in while we ride.”

“Lazy,” Sabina called him, but she smiled slightly as he relaxed beside her.

“So,” Cedric addressed Finn, attempting to ignore the passing glances happening behind him, “have you ever dealt with anything like they’re mentioning in Moonshade?” He picked nervously at an errant thread on his pants. “You know… the ‘animals looking a bit wrong’ or the hallucinations?” He didn’t want to even think about the undead bit.
 
Finn couldn’t help but feel a little…lonely, listening to the three friends banter back and forth. They were all high elves, all from the same city, all connected by their backgrounds and experiences. He had known it wouldn’t be an easy journey and yet…he had forgotten what it was like to feel alone.

He blinked in surprise when Cedric addressed him.

“Oh. Um.” His mind scrambled to retrieve the question. “Not exactly.” Finn idly wrapped the reins around his long, calloused fingers. “I’ve served mostly as a scout. Finding these anomalies, reporting them back.”

He swallowed in discomfort. “I…have had to kill a few animals. It was like they were rabid.” His face went pale with the memory. “I didn’t dare touch them. They bled this strange…blackness, like their blood had gone wrong.”

Most people, even most wood elves, might not have been so disturbed by it. But killing an animal and not using it…it had felt like such a waste. He remembered the heat in his blood, how his vision had gone too bright, too narrow, at the injustice.

“I trust we will be fine with the four of us,” Finn said to reassure the Chancellor, and said nothing else as their wagon rolled along the well-maintained road.

By the time dusk settled over the sky, the road had turned bumpy. A few times Finn had had to jump off and move a few felled trees, each one scarred with a strange black blight where it had been severed.

Soon after, Finn nervously announced they should make camp, since no one else had spoken up. He immediately got to work in cooling down the horses, then helped gather firewood, deftly sparking a fire with flint before returning back to the wagon to prepare camp.

“How are you faring?” Finn asked Cedric as he tugged out the tents. He wasn’t sure Cedric had ever pitched a tent before, and—frankly—wasn’t sure how to ask without offense.
 
“They bled this strange… blackness, like their blood had gone wrong.”

Finn’s ominous words had been echoing in Cedric’s mind ever since he had uttered them. What did he mean their blood had gone black?

Visions of rabid, crazed animals- foaming dark frothy ooze from their muzzles- was enough to make his stomach flip uncontrollably. Those images, combined with the knowledge that he, Cedric, was a very poor, weak mage, made him feel even more ill. He had believed Finn when he had talked about the blight- but he had not realized how dangerous it could truly be. He felt foolish- naive, even- that he had not asked more questions before suggesting bringing Percy and Sabina along.

Had his stupidity and selfishness brought his closest friends to their awful, untimely deaths?

He shook his head vigorously, attempting to dispel the awful images as he began to lay out his tent for the night. The rough, scratchy canvas material rubbed at his delicate skin, and he could tell that, despite only having worked at the tent for mere minutes, he would already have blisters on his hands from the rope.

Panting, sweat dripping down his back, Cedric stepped back to survey his hard work.

It looked awful.

Of course it did. He had never needed a tent before, and even if he had, he wouldn’t have been the one to raise it. He was relieved, therefore, when Finn came walking over to him, asking how he was coming along.

“Well…” he started, scratching at the back of his neck, “as I’m sure you can tell I’m a bit of an expert at tent pitching…” He motioned to the sad, sorry mess of rope and fabric, which looked more like a disorganized bird’s nest than a tent. “But I’m humble enough to accept a few pointers.”
 
The Luminous Chancellor was not an expert at pitching tents.

In fact, Finn would have categorized him as entirely incompetent. The canvas fabric draped awkwardly, and the tent poles struggled valiantly–but in vain–to form a proper shape. A light breeze would have been devastating.

“A few pointers,” Finn repeated thoughtfully, scratching at his chin. He nodded. “Sure.”

Finn did his best to instruct Cedric in a way that seemed like he was just tweaking the tent instead of completely disassembling it and starting over. Finn masterfully threw the canvas, easily hammered the stakes down, and casually raised the tent poles. He had done this hundreds of times–because even if he preferred a canopy of stars above him at night, sometimes it was thunderclouds glaring down at him instead. And instead of a warm, summer breeze caressing him to sleep, sometimes it was an icy chill.

When he stood, arms akimbo to admire their finished work, Finn frowned.

“This isn’t your tent, is it?” he asked, only now realizing how…normal it looked. It was a simple tent–one meant for traveling. It was modest. Nice, and well-made, yes, but unsophisticated. Finn would have expected something more…grandiose for the Luminous Chancellor.
 
Cedric blinked as he looked from the now properly assembled tent to Finn. “Is this… not supposed to be my tent?” He frowned, thinking of all the trunks and luggage they discarded before leaving on their journey. Perhaps they had left one with his behind?

He glanced around to see Sabina and Percy's tents already pitched. It certainly seemed like everyone had their own…

“Well, anyways, thank you for your help,” Cedric said to Finn shyly, trying his best not to stare too long at how wonderfully the pinkish-orange hue of the setting sun looked upon the wood elf's olive skin. “I'll get the hang of it eventually…”

He suspected that he would be apologizing for his shortcomings many more times before this journey was over. Although he had known he would be a stumbling, bumbling fool in regards to survival skills, he had not been prepared for just how embarrassed he would feel. While Finn had most respectfully and politely guided him through setting up his tent, he had still felt like a small child first learning to buckle his shoes.

Was there truly anything Cedric brought to the proverbial table? Finn had his tracking and survival skills, Sabina her strong combat, and Percy his wonderful cooking… What did Cedric have? A decent-looking face and cheeky commentary?

And Sabina and Percy would probably argue he didn't even have those.

Putting his depressing thoughts to the back of his mind, Cedric smiled warmly at Finn. “I suppose you're likely hungry after having to deal with the likes of us high elves all day. What do you propose we do for dinner?”
 
At least the Chancellor had a good sense of humor about his ineptitude. If Finn hadn't known him for longer than a few hours, he would have thought Cedric would huff, would turn his nose up at being shown how to do something so simple, would fuss about how Finn still had not done a satisfactory job.

But that wasn't what he did at all.

He thanked Finn. His words were soft, gracious. Modest.

Finn blinked. "Of course. I was happy to help." And strangely, his words were truthful. He had been happy to help the Luminous Chancellor with his tent. He'd have never anticipated that turn of events.

Then Cedric smiled. He smiled in such a beautiful, brilliant, genuine way that it made Finn feel warmth inside his chest.

"Oh. Dinner." Finn scratched the back of his neck. "I reckon it's been a long day. Perhaps just some already prepared rations, then we can eat a proper breakfast tomorrow." Finn didn't want to inconvenience Percy. One, because the red-haired man was still a high elf, and two, because it felt...inconsiderate.

So, they ate a simple meal of bread and cheese and dried meat. Finn prepared some 'baked' apples by laying a few red apples on the coals, turning them so they could bake. He then gave them to each of his traveling companions, seasoning them with sugar and cinnamon.

Then, once their dinner was settled and the fire had died, they each went to their tents to sleep for the night.

+++​

Finn woke to a terrified scream.

He bolted upright in his bedroll. When he heard the scream again, echoing through the night, he tugged off his blankets and grabbed his knife, unsheathing it and rushing out into the evening.

Another yell. From the Chancellor's tent. Half-dressed and barefoot, Finn raced to the tent and threw open the flaps, prepared to gut whoever was attacking the Chancellor.

But there was no one. No one but Cedric.

"Chancellor?" Finn asked, breathless with adrenaline, his alarmed heart thundering in his ears.
 
Indigestion was something Cedric had been, unfortunately, very familiar with. He didn’t know whether it was from all the drinking he usually did in the evenings, or because of all his constant anxieties, but food- particularly at night- didn’t agree with him.

Tonight was no different. Although they had only had a simple meal of meat, cheese, and bread, it still churned in his stomach as if there was some little witch in there, brewing up a nasty potion. It bubbled and brewed, and he could almost imagine the small, pimpled old hag cackling in there as she stirred.

He tossed and turned on his bedroll, finding the ground beneath it hard and unforgiving. Of course, his body had been used to the finest mattresses and the softest down pillows, so naturally only having a slim blanket and earth beneath him was quite the change.

Despite all this, he still managed to fall asleep, his troubled, unconscious mind sending him flashes of his father’s cold blue eyes spying on him, watching and judging his every move. He could feel the hatred seeping from them as they followed him no matter how far he ran, or how hard he tried to hide.

Luckily, his uneasy stomach stirred him awake from his night terror, and as he stared up at the top of his small tent, he felt his nervousness begin to subside.

This, however, did not last long. Because just as he was adjusting his position to sleep on his side, his weary eyes caught something that made his heart almost stop with fear. There, peering between the closed flaps in his tent, were his father’s cruel, chilling blue eyes.

Those eyes weren’t just from his dreaming. His father was finally there to kill him. To be rid of his embarrassment of a child once and for all.

And though he wasn’t proud of it, knew it wasn’t the brave thing to do, Cedric did the first thing that came to his mind.

He shut his eyes tightly and…

He screamed.

It seemed like an eternity before someone came to his rescue, and, while he had suspected it would have been Sabina to come to his aid, he heard Finn’s alarmed voice call to him as he scrambled into the tent.

Cedric nervously opened his eyes, seeing the half-dressed young wood elf standing confused in his tent. “My father,” he hissed to Finn, grabbing the elf’s calloused hand and pulling him down. “He’s here to kill me, he-“

He paused, frowning as he looked towards the opening of his tent, the large, cobalt eyes now gone. “How… how did you not run into him?”
 
Finn was immediately yanked down by the hand to Cedric's level. He glanced around, confusion creasing his brows.

"What?" he whispered back. "Your father?" There had been no one else around, at least--not that Finn saw or heard. He thought, for a moment, that Cedric might be hallucinating. That he had perhaps broke into their meager amount of alcohol and had addled his mind with too much wine.

But why in the heavens would the Luminous Chancellor's father want to kill him?

Finn stood, squinting into the dark tent. And that was when he saw a night moth--a large, soft-winged insect with two large orbs spotting its wings. They looked, in the dimness of night, like two blue eyes staring down at you.

"Oh." Finn tucked away his knife. "It's just a moth." With careful feet he made his way to the back of the tent, gently scooping the moth into his hands and kneeling to show it to Cedric.

"See? You're perfectly safe." The moth fluttered its wings, as if affronted, but did not fly away. "I'm certain you've startled it as much as it startled you."

Of course, that didn't answer Finn's initial question--why would Cedric think his father would murder him?
 
Cedric blinked, staring dubiously at the large insect Finn held in his hands. He could still feel his heart hammering against his ribcage, and he took a few deep breaths before finally stammering, “Oh… oh, it’s a… a ‘moth’ you say?”

He swallowed, his mouth feeling dry. Of course, Finn said the massive insect was harmless, but Cedric had never seen a bug so enormous, and certainly not one that could stare back at you.

As his initial terror now began to subside, embarrassment now crept in. He could feel his cheeks and neck burning from the humiliation, and as his eyes became more accustomed to the dim light, he realized just how little both he and Finn were wearing.

To add further insult to injury, Cedric heard a frantic pair of footsteps scramble towards his tent, and Cedric braced himself for the ridiculing that would be Percy and Sabina.

“Ced!” came the frantic voice of Percy just outside his tent. “Ced, are you al-?”

Cedric did not have time to react before both Percy and Sabina, looking tired and distressed, came bursting into his tent.

“Oh,” Percy said, clearly forgetting the rest of his sentence. “Oh, um…” His mouth opened, and then closed, his red eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Fuck it all, Cedric,” Sabina hissed, her eyes darting between both him and the wood elf. “If you were wanting to entertain yourself tonight, the least you could do was keep quiet.” She rubbed irritably at her eyes. “Percy and I thought you were being murdered.”

If he could have spontaneously caught fire from humiliation, he would have been a roaring bonfire. “It’s not what you think,” Cedric spat out, trying everything in his power not to make eye contact with Finn. “I… I had a nightmare and thought-” He trailed off, pulling his thin bedroll cover closer to his chest. “Well, never mind what I thought I saw. I thought I was in danger and so I yelled.” He rubbed at his face, feeling the intense heat coming from it. “Finn here was kind enough to come to investigate and…” He paused. “Well, I suppose what I thought I saw was just a moth.” He gestured to Finn’s hands, which still held the insect. “I apologize for startling everyone.”
 
"A moth, yes," Finn said, smiling fondly at the insect, but his smile faded as he noted the terror in Cedric's eyes. A pang of compassion tugged at his heart. "They're really good at pollinating plants," he said, this time his voice softer. "Though I suppose you might not see them often in the city, at least not these ones."

Finn stood to release the moth outside of the tent, but then he heard Sabina and Percy outside and winced.

Oh. Oh. This was about to look very strange very quickly.

Finn, at least, maintained his composure when the two burst into the tent. His blush nearly rivaled Cedric's, but he remained calm. Under normal circumstances, he'd be a stuttering mess. Embarrassed to pieces. So why wasn't he now?

"I thought he was being murdered, too," said Finn, showing them the moth. "But these creatures can be startling to see if you're not used to them. See how their wings look like eyes? They're meant to look scary. And if it's dark, and you're half-asleep..." He shrugged. Why was he working so hard to ease Cedric's discomfort?

"Anyway," he said, sighing, "we should probably all get back to bed. We have another long day of travel tomorrow." And, hoping the rest of his party listened to him, as they seemed to want to do, he went outside. There he gently placed the moth on a fern, glanced back at Cedric's tent, then returned to his bedroll.
 

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