Alwyn was silent for a moment. Galred was certainly capable of teleporting himself, if not all the way to Drol Kuggradh, at least most of the way there. The thought made him wonder again how the teleportation rune he’d made for Commander Petkas had turned out, though hopefully he never needed to use it. While the elf commander had admonished him for his distrust of the orc healer who had saved him, he had still been the one to rescue him from the rebels, so it had seemed an appropriate show of gratitude.
He had been ruminating on teleportation for most of the day—between the bawdy orc songs Krujha had been trying to teach him—and he thought he could get the two of them decently far. With luck, they would appear close enough to Drol Kuggradh that they were unlikely to run into any other bands of rebels. The only issue was how he would explain the magic to Krujha.
“Since he is alone, he’ll probably use his magic to get himself there quickly,” Alwyn finally said. “He is strong enough to manage teleportation.”
Krujha’s eyebrows raised. “I had heard rumors elves could teleport across longer distances, but I didn’t think it was true.”
“It is,” Alwyn said. “But it is still quite taxing. If you’re only teleporting yourself, it is a bit easier.”
“Can you do it?”
“I was thinking about it earlier, actually,” Alwyn admitted. “Us and the horses would be challenging. I could get us closer if it were just the two of us, but I don’t think the risk is worth leaving them behind. I think I could get us and the horses about halfway there, but... It drains a significant amount of power. I worry that if we encounter any danger on the road afterward, then I would be unable to help. And it works best if you’re aiming for somewhere you’re familiar with. And, well, I’ve been to Drol Kuggradh, but just once, and not for any significant length of time. So we might not end up exactly where I want us to.”
Krujha grinned at him, seeming amused at his admission. “I’m shocked to hear there’s something youaren’tcapable of doing.”
Alwyn scowled, but it was to keep himself from smiling in return. Though it was teasing, he found he liked the orc complimenting him, perhaps more than he should. “Well, we all have our limits. And there are some things only the gods can do.”
“Well, we’re not going anywhere more tonight,” Krujha sighed. “Help me set up the tent.”
They would now be sharing Krujha’s tent, as Alwyn had given his to Fionia and her group. That made his stomach flip-flop all over again. He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d shared so small a space with anyone; but sharing a tent was far better than trying to sleep out in the open air, and at least the orc’s tent was big enough for them both to stretch out comfortably.
He kept his thoughts to himself as he held the stakes in place, while Krujha placed the thick canvas over top. After, Alwyn started a small campfire, then set a pot of water to boil so they could eat some tubers that they’d dug up that afternoon, along with their slim rations of salt beef and hard bread.
When they had each eaten their portion and were sitting near each other in front of the campfire, Krujha turned to him. Alwyn expected some kind of quip, but instead Krujha said,
“So, have you thought about my question?”
“Question?” Alwyn asked, frowning. Then he remembered the orc had asked him what he would do with himself if he was free of all other obligations with the power to go anywhere. He’d given it some thought, but it felt more like an impossible puzzle—how could he possibly imagine a life apart from the only thing he had ever known? “Oh, I—well, a bit, but we’ve obviously been busy, so...”
Krujha smirked. “That’s fair. It’s been a hectic few days. Let me ask you something else, then.”
He paused, and Alwyn watched him expectantly, waiting.
“When we were deciding what to do, you were resistant to the idea of returning to Aefraya,” Krujha finally said, his golden eyes illuminated by the firelight. “If we had all decided to go there, would you have stayed back and gone on to the camp alone?”
The question took Alwyn by surprise, and for a moment, he couldn’t quite formulate a response.Wasthat something he would have done?
It would have been a doomed effort, but he would have done it, he decided. If he thought that was the only option he had, then it would have been better to die in the attempt than to return to Castle Aefraya in disgrace. How to explain that to Krujha escaped him.
“Yes. I would have tried,” he finally said, his voice soft. “If it were the only way to complete the mission, then there’d be nothing else but to try.”
“Nothing else?” Krujha pressed. “Surely there would have been other opportunities. We could have gone back, gotten reinforcements—we had information. That alone is valuable. Are you really so eager to be a hero?”
“I...” Alwyn started, then trailed off. How much of this did he really want to share, painful as it was to remember?
But he had started to think of the orc as, if not his friend, at least a confidant. Krujha had shared personal things with him, after all. Maybe he couldn’t tell Krujha everything, but some of his burden would be lifted if he gave just a bit of it away.
“My failed mission, the one I told you about before… I should have died. It was only through luck I survived,” he finally said, the words coming out stilted. “The rebels had captured me and kept sedated the whole time. The... the way those other elves were. That was when I started having the waterfall dream I told you about. I was asleep for a long time, so...”
“I remember,” Krujha encouraged softly when he trailed off. Alwyn shook himself. Though the dreams disturbed him, they were not the point.
“But I think knowing I had disappointed my mentor was even worse,” he bit out. “Tessarion, the one I told you who recruited me, he’s one of the most respected mages in Aefraya. And for as long as I can remember, he has personally guided my studies. I can’t explain to you the honor—the privilege—he has bestowed upon me; and before then, I had never let him down. This mission is my second chance to take back the life I built in the—in my order. I’m lucky to be alive, but I’m even luckier to have received this mission as a way to redeem myself. So I can’t fail again. If everyone else was going back to Castle Aefraya, then I would have continued alone. I can’t go back until I’ve succeeded…until I’ve proven to everyone that his trust and belief in me is not unfounded.”
“Alwyn, you just said you almost died,” Krujha’s voice was low, but there was an undercurrent of force in his tone that made Alwyn sit up straighter. “And you were only worried about disappointing your teacher? It sounds like he didn’t even care about what happened to you. His trust and belief should be the least of your concerns when your very life is on the line.”
“Of course he cares about what happened to me,” Alwyn protested, frowning. “But he’s got a job to do. And obviously there isn’t much room for sentimentality in our line of work.”
“Caring about the well-being of one of his students isn’t sentimentality,” Krujha said. “I can understand why you think so highly of this man, as a mage and a mentor. But from what you described, I don’t think his respect is worth buying with your life. It sounds like you returned from a dangerous mission, and all he cared about was squeezing some further use out of you.”
