So he didn’t know what Korik was really doing, at least. That was a small relief, though it made Korik wonder if secrecy was worth causing the mage to be so distrustful of him, having seen firsthand how dangerous he was.
“Thank you for... defending me,” Korik stammered. Varen only smirked.
“Well, the last thing I need is a sorcerer trying to kill you,” he said, and Korik couldn’t quite tell if his tone was joking or not. “But... You’ve done much to help us. He’s an idiot not to recognize that. Your business is your own, just as his business is his. No one’s asking him what he was doing out here that allowed him to get captured, after all.”
That was true. Curious as Korik was aboutwhatthe mage had been up to, it didn’t seem like anyone had outright asked the elf, or planned to. It seemed obvious to him that Alwyn was more than just a mage and wouldn’t have given the truth even if asked directly; but he supposed it might not seem as evident to the others, who had not felt first-hand how finely honed and purely destructive his magic was.
He did not say this to Varen. Instead, he only nodded in agreement. After a beat, the elf sighed and folded his arms across his chest.
“Maybe hold off on scouting for now,” he said, now sounding guilty. “We’re close enough to Aefraya I think we’ll be alright, since you haven’t seen anything so far. I don’t want him trying to ambush you while you’re alone and vulnerable again. Best not to give him any reason to be suspicious for now, right?”
He considered this; it was true that they were nearly out of the more dangerous parts of their journey, and Korik had seen no sign of any other orcs so far. But they weren’t entirely out of danger yet; and if he wasn’t scouting, they would be more vulnerable to any third party that they might encounter between here and Aefraya.
Varen seemed to anticipate his concern, though, and added, “I’ll just have to make some time to scout and enlist some others to help me. I’ve been trying to avoid it, let everyone have the chance to decompress after... everything. But I don’t think we have much of a choice now.”
“Are you sure?” Korik asked, unsure of what else to say.
“I’m sure,” Varen said, smirking. “I’m flattered you’re worried about me, though.”
Korik’s face burned with heat. “That isn’t—I’m not—”
Varen laughed and turned away, waving a hand dismissively. “Right, right. Anyway, we’re about to start packing up camp, so come back and get some breakfast before we head out, alright?”
Korik watched him go for a moment, still stunned and rather baffled at the exchange. When he could no longer hear Varen’s footsteps crunching through the brush, he finally shook himself into action and made his way back to camp. He found Enriel waiting for him, standing by his bedroll and holding a bowl of porridge.
“Varen asked me to give this to you,” she said, offering him the bowl, which he took. “Is everything alright?”
Korik nodded absently. The entire exchange had been puzzling, but it seemed nothing would come of it now.
“Yes,” he replied, sitting down to eat. “Everything’s fine.”
With no need to scout, the next several days were somehow even more monotonous than the ones before. Korik ached all over from walking from sunrise to sunset, and they still had a week to go. The landscape had changed gradually around them, the weather growing more mild as the rocks and brush gave way to trees and grass—yet the change was so slow it provided little interest. The elves often chatted with each other or sometimes sang songs to pass the time; they were all elven folk songs that he was unfamiliar with, but they were pleasant to listen to and simple enough to pick up. But he hesitated to do more than hum along quietly; while his presence no longer seemed to frighten any of the elves, it was really only Enriel and Varen who spoke to him.
So he kept to himself, with only his own thoughts and the occasional conversation with Enriel as they walked. Varen would sometimes chat with him when they were camped for the night, or in the morning before they set out, but once they were on the road, they saw little of each other—Varen led the group, while Korik remained at the tail end.
He wasn’t sure when, exactly, they crossed what had once been the border; but he did notice, one late afternoon, a swell of chatter and activity moved through the line of elves ahead of him. He couldn’t hear what they were saying to each other, so he quickened his pace a little to get closer to the group. The next closest elves ignored him, so he passed them to catch up to Enriel, still riding on her horse.
“What’s going on?” he asked her quietly, when she caught sight of him.
She smiled. “We’re in Aefraya now. There’s an elven estate not far from here. Varen says we won’t make it before sunset, but if we can push for an hour or so past it, we should reach it. It’s a large orchard. The family is on pretty good terms with the elven militia, since it’s so close to the border—or, er, where the border used to be—so Varen says we’ll probably be able to rest there tonight instead of out in the open.”
Korik nodded, but what was clearly a comfort to the elves only made him more nervous. This elven estate was probably the closest of any in Aefraya to the orc wildlands; would they immediately be distrustful of him, or even refuse him shelter? Enriel seemed to detect his hesitance, and she added in a softer tone,
“Don’t worry, Korik. They’re nice people. They were one of the first big families to show public support for the unification.”
“I see,” he replied, still not entirely convinced; but her words helped a little. Between that and—hopefully—Varen vouching for him again, maybe things would be fine after all.
He slowed his pace and let the others pass him by again, taking up his usual place as the rear guard. Looking around, things seemed a bit more forested and...magical, somehow, which seemed silly. But elves were known for their innate magic, and it was said to suffuse their land in abundance, which Korik had never quite believed but was now less sure.
About an hour after the commotion had died down, Korik noticed Varen walking through the line of elves—toward him. He felt a lurch in his chest, seeing the commander searching for him. Perhaps he had come to warn Korik that he would not be welcome at this elven estate after all.
“There you are!” Varen called, gesturing him to draw closer. “Don’t fall behind, now. Listen, we’re in Aefraya proper, and I wanted to tell you that we’ll be pushing a bit past sunset to reach the Trisfiel estate to rest there.”
“Enriel told me,” he said.
“Good. I don’t expect they’ll refuse us any aid,” Varen continued. “With their location, the Trisfiel family has provided supplies and shelter to elven forces from time to time, and I’m sure they see a lot of trade caravans passing through now, too. Tomorrow, several of the group will split off to head their own way. Our group will be smaller and hopefully faster. I’m going to try to trade one of those orc horses for something more practical, hopefully a decent pack mule, but the other I’ll keep for you.”
Korik blinked dumbly. “For me?”
