A New Light (The Astral Wanderer Book 1), D'Artagnan Rey [best romantic novels to read .TXT] 📗

open curiosity. It was sheathed in a scabbard of darkened leather but the hilt was silver and wrapped in a similar black leather binding. The handguard had a pointed tip, but only one way. In fact, despite its size and shape, it looked almost like it was half of a larger blade, even in the sheath.

“Boy, that sword…” he began, and the boy glanced at his weapon. “That’s a unique weapon you have there.”

“I know, right?” He grinned and gestured at it with his thumb. “It’s the reason I’m out here. It’s a magical sword.”

“That so?” The man chuckled. “An exotic weapon? Those can be quite pricey.”

“I don’t think it’s an exotic,” the boy admitted. “Or at least not a typical one. It merely…appeared one day.”

“Merely appeared?” he asked and stroked his chin in thought. “I’ve heard of warriors getting runes on their exotics that allow them to teleport the blade to their hands. Is it something like that?”

“No. Up until about a month ago, I’d never seen it before.” The youngster shrugged and finished his drink. “I’m going to meet someone who can hopefully explain what it is.”

The proprietor nodded and peered at the map again. “I see. About that…” He placed his finger on the dot marking Bluebell. “From what I’ve seen of your current path, you’re not heading west, are you?”

Devol frowned a little in confusion and focused on the map. “Unless I read it wrong, that is the quickest path, right?”

“In distance, sure, but also to an early grave,” the innkeeper warned and folded his arms. “That leads to the Wailing Woods. As you can probably guess by the name, it’s not a great place to take a stroll through.”

“Huh.” The boy moved the map closer to the lit candle and studied it carefully. “You’d think they’d mention that here.”

“It’s more of a local name but one well earned.”

After a moment, Devol looked away and out one of the inn’s windows “I thought I saw a road in that direction.”

“It splits and heads down another path around the woods,” the innkeeper clarified. “They tried to make a road through it but the crew sent to chop it down only got part of the way in.”

“They get scared off by something?” the boy asked as he tapped his fork on his plate.

“Some did and got right the hell out,” his companion said with a grim nod “Others… Well, they didn’t make it out. The ‘wailing’ part of the name comes from those who have been lost within or left to die or be killed by the beasties there. There is something off about those woods and the beasties are a big threat—snakes, giant rodents, flesh-eating insects, and even flayers. Some people have claimed even imps and likan roam the forest. Can’t say I’ve seen them myself, but if it were true, this village sure as hell isn’t far enough away from it.”

The boy pursed his lips, leaned back, and tapped his chin in thought. “I should probably buy a torch before setting off, then.”

The innkeeper’s stern face melted into one of bafflement. “Do what now, boy?”

“Hmm?” He looked up. “A torch. Most of what you have described are creatures that live in darkened areas. It must mean that the forest is dark enough for them to be there so it would probably be wise for me to take a torch.”

The innkeeper wanted to holler in the boy’s face that he simply didn’t understand, that if he wanted to be ‘wise,’ he wouldn’t go there at all. But his skepticism made him stutter his words before one of his daughters ran to him and tugged his shirt. “Daddy, Mommy says we have more customers and you need to get back to working the bar and main parlor.”

“Huh? Uh…sure, darling. Tell her I’ll get right on it.” He stood, slid his chair in, and turned to point at his young patron. “Stay right there. I need to tend to something before I come back and smack some sense into you, boy.”

Devol cocked an eyebrow. “Why would I wait for that?”

The innkeeper shook his head as he went to tend to his new customers. The youngster pushed to his feet and waved goodbye. “Thank you for the hospitality, Mr. Bernard!” He smiled with his silver eyes wide, sat again, and adjusted his blue-and-white jacket and black slacks. After a moment, he decided to close the coat over a white shirt.

Bernard sighed. He should probably have smacked the auburn-haired boy to put an end to his craziness before he left him. A little anxious, he hurried to finish his tasks as quickly as he could lest the hospitality go to waste when the boy got himself killed.

Bernard took the last orders hastily and passed them to his wife. That done, he told his kids to clean the tables of the guests who had finished eating while he took a map off a shelf near the bar, found a pen, and marked it to show a clear path around the woods. Maybe this would help to persuade the boy to not venture through that accursed place. If he needed more convincing…well, he had said he would smack some sense into him and only slightly in jest.

When he came out from behind the bar and entered the side room where the youngster had been seated, however, his place was empty. On the table lay a note and the cobalt splinter. The man looked at the hastily written letter with a scowl.

Mr. Bernard,

Thank you again for the room and food. Sorry I could not say goodbye to you and your wife and children, but if this forest is as bad as you say, I probably want to make the journey through it with as much sunlight as possible. Please keep the splinter for being so nice to me. Hope to see you again if I come through.

Devol Alouest

The innkeeper ran a hand down his face and released a deep sigh. He wondered