CHAPTER 67: THE ROAD EAST

The cheers of the villagers faded into memory long before the sound itself disappeared, leaving Apollo with an unfamiliar ache in his chest as they crested the first gentle slope beyond the settlement.

He glanced back once, watching the cluster of thatched roofs grow smaller beneath the brilliant morning sky, smoke from cooking fires rising in lazy spirals that blurred the line between earth and heaven.

Apollo adjusted the weight of his pack, feeling the wooden flute shift against his spine. The gift felt heavier than its physical form warranted, laden with something he couldn’t quite name, expectation, perhaps, or memory, or the simple truth that kindness was often more difficult to bear than cruelty.

The path narrowed as it wound upward, the cultivated fields of the valley giving way to wild grasses that brushed against their legs. Nik had been uncharacteristically silent since their departure, but as the incline steepened, his restraint finally broke.

"Gods above and below," he groaned, staggering dramatically to one side of the path. "I’m being crushed. Absolutely crushed. They may as well have packed stones in here instead of provisions." He slumped against a young birch tree, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. "Tell my mother I died as I lived, selflessly carrying burdens too great for ordinary men."

Thorin snorted, not even breaking stride as he passed the prostrate performer. "Carrying burdens? Your pack’s half the size of mine, and I’d wager a quarter of it’s that ridiculous silk scarf you conned out of the weaver’s daughter."

Nik clutched his chest in mock offense. "It was a gift freely given! She recognized quality when she saw it."

"The quality of your lies, maybe," Thorin muttered, shifting his own considerably larger pack to a more comfortable position. "Now get up. We’ve barely started."

Lyra paused beside them, her green eyes glinting with amusement. "If you two are finished with your little theatrical performance, perhaps we could cover some actual ground before nightfall? Unless Nik would prefer we fashion a litter and carry him like the delicate royal he pretends to be in his stories."

"Now there’s an idea," Nik brightened, then withered under her steady gaze. "Fine, fine. Onward to glory and sore shoulders."

Renna, who had moved ahead to scout the trail, looked back with poorly concealed impatience. "Less talking, more walking. We need to reach the oak groves before midday if we want to make decent progress through the hills."

Her spear tapped a steady rhythm against the ground as she moved, marking their pace like a heartbeat.

Apollo fell into step behind her, the gold in his veins warming pleasantly with exertion. The path grew steeper, cutting across the face of the hill in a series of switchbacks that revealed increasingly dramatic views of the valley below.

With each turn, the village receded further into the landscape, becoming just one element in a tapestry of fields, streams, and distant settlements that stretched to the horizon.

’Strange,’ Apollo thought as sweat began to gather at his temples, ’how quickly comfort becomes memory.’ The ease of the village, warm beds, abundant food, friendly faces, already felt like a dream from which he’d reluctantly awakened.

By midday, the landscape had transformed completely. The open hillsides gave way to scattered copses that gradually thickened into proper woodland. Ancient oaks spread their massive limbs overhead, filtering the sunlight into dappled patterns that shifted with each breath of wind.

The air grew richer here, heavy with the scent of moss and fungus and the indefinable sweetness of growing things.

They paused in a small clearing to rest and eat. Lyra distributed bread still fresh from the village ovens, along with slices of hard cheese and dried apple.

The simple meal tasted of kindness, a final gift from people who had asked for nothing but stories in return.

Renna knelt at the edge of the clearing, her fingers tracing marks in the soft earth that Apollo would have missed entirely.

"Boar," she said, glancing up at them. "A large one, from the depth of these prints. Passed through here yesterday, maybe the day before." Her fingers hovered over a particular depression in the mud. "See how the front hooves dig deeper? They carry more of the animal’s weight."

Nik leaned over her shoulder, squinting at the unremarkable patch of disturbed earth. "I don’t see anything but mud," he admitted. "How do you know it’s not just a deer or something less... tusk-equipped?"

Renna pointed to a nearby tree where the bark had been scraped away about two feet from the ground. "Boar rub against trees to mark territory and remove parasites. Deer don’t do that. And look here—" she indicated another set of tracks, smaller but similar, "—young ones. Probably a sow with piglets, which means she’ll be especially aggressive if cornered."

Thorin crossed his arms, eyeing the tracks with newfound wariness. "So we avoid them. Simple enough."

"You’d be the worst hunter," Nik declared suddenly, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. "You’d get impatient after five minutes of waiting and start hammering something just to make noise."

"Me?" Thorin’s eyebrows shot up. "You’re the one who can’t stop talking long enough to breathe, let alone stalk prey. You’d be telling the deer your life story before you remembered to nock an arrow."

"I’ll have you know I’m extremely stealthy when the situation calls for it," Nik protested, demonstrating by taking an exaggeratedly quiet step that still somehow managed to snap a twig loudly underfoot.

"Both of you would starve in a week," Lyra said dryly, repacking their food with efficient movements. "Thorin would scare everything away with his stomping, and Nik would get distracted by his own reflection in a stream."

Apollo smiled, enjoying their banter. The gold in his veins settled into a comfortable rhythm that matched his heartbeat, content to remain dormant in the absence of immediate threat.

They continued through the oak grove, the path now little more than a game trail that wound between massive trunks and over exposed roots. The forest floor was thick with fallen leaves that whispered beneath their boots, occasionally revealing glimpses of more tracks, deer, rabbit, fox, and the now-familiar impressions of boar hooves.

The first warning came as a subtle shift in the forest’s ambient sounds. The birdsong that had accompanied their journey faltered, then ceased entirely. A heavy silence descended, broken only by their own breathing and the soft crunch of leaves underfoot.

Renna froze, her hand raised to halt the group. "Something’s—"

The underbrush to their right exploded in a fury of movement. A massive shape burst through the foliage, bristling, tusked, and moving with terrifying speed directly toward them. The boar was larger than Apollo had imagined possible, its coat a mottled brown and gray, yellow tusks curving wickedly from its lower jaw.

"Scatter!" Renna shouted, already dropping into a defensive stance, her spear braced against the ground to receive the charge.

Apollo leapt sideways, narrowly avoiding the boar’s initial rush. The creature veered toward Nik instead, who stood frozen in shock, mouth open in a silent scream. At the last possible moment, Thorin barreled into Nik from the side, sending them both tumbling into a thicket as the boar thundered past, its tusks slashing air where Nik had stood an instant before.

The boar wheeled with surprising agility for its size, pawing the ground as it prepared for another charge. Its small, dark eyes gleamed with territorial fury, fixed now on Renna and her threatening spear.

Apollo felt the gold stir in his veins, responding to the danger. It would be simple to call forth just enough power to drive the creature away, a flash of light, a surge of divine energy. But the memory of their last encounter with his power, the wariness that had followed, stayed his hand. ’Not yet,’ he thought. ’Not unless there’s no other choice.’

The boar charged again, this time directly at Renna. She held her ground until the last possible second, then pivoted smoothly aside while thrusting her spear toward the animal’s flank. The tip scored a shallow cut along its side, enough to draw blood but not to slow its momentum.

Enraged, the boar spun toward Lyra, who had drawn her knife but looked painfully vulnerable against the creature’s mass. She backed away steadily, maintaining eye contact with the beast as she reached for a fallen branch with her free hand.

"Hey!" Thorin bellowed, having extricated himself from the thicket. He slammed the flat of his axe against a nearby tree trunk, creating a thunderous boom that momentarily confused the boar. "Over here, you overgrown pork chop!"

The distraction worked. The boar turned toward the new threat, giving Lyra time to circle away from its line of sight. Thorin stood his ground, axe raised, a grimly determined set to his jaw.

Apollo moved carefully to the dwarf’s left, trying to position himself to help without drawing the boar’s attention. From the corner of his eye, he saw Nik scrambling up a tree with surprising agility, his usual grace returning now that the initial shock had passed.

"Somebody do something!" Nik called from his perch, helpfully.

The boar charged Thorin, who waited until the last moment before swinging his axe in a powerful arc. The flat of the blade struck the creature’s shoulder, deflecting its charge rather than wounding it. The boar staggered sideways, momentarily disoriented but quickly regaining its balance.

Renna seized the opportunity, darting forward to thrust her spear toward the animal’s hindquarters. The tip found flesh, sinking deeper this time. The boar squealed in pain and fury, twisting away from the weapon with such violence that the shaft was wrenched from Renna’s hands.

For a heartbeat, they all froze, the boar with Renna’s spear protruding from its haunch, the companions scattered in a rough circle around it. Then, with a final agonized squeal, the creature turned and crashed back into the underbrush, leaving only trampled foliage and spatters of blood to mark its passage.

Silence descended once more, broken only by their ragged breathing.

"Is it gone?" Nik called from his tree, peering down with exaggerated caution. "Truly gone, not just hiding and waiting to disembowel the first person who moves?"

"It’s gone," Renna confirmed, though her eyes remained fixed on the spot where the boar had disappeared. "But so is my spear."

"Better the spear than your insides," Thorin grunted, lowering his axe at last. His hands trembled slightly with the aftermath of battle tension.

Nik descended from his tree with considerably less grace than he had ascended it, landing with an ungainly thud that belied his earlier claims of stealth. "Did you see that? It came straight for me! I swear it looked me in the eyes first, like it knew I was the greatest threat."

"The greatest threat to what? Its sense of smell?" Thorin snorted, checking his axe blade for damage.