Everwinter: The Forerunner Archives

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somewhat infectious. I mean, we're on a quest just like in a story! But I've never read a story quite as boring as this one. Once we were well away from Krakelyn and our pursuers, the days became an endless parade of marching through endless tracts of the Sentinel Forest, the brush often so thick it was a wonder Altair knew where he was going. We'd stop only briefly for meals, and sleep only when Altair said so. Also briefly.
    I'm exhausted.
    Altair urges us to our feet ten minutes later. I look down to see I've only taken two bites of my sandwich, too tired to take any more. My stomach rumbles angrily and I quickly take two more, packing the rest away. I've lost my appetite anyway.
    There's still a long way to go.
    I keep my eyes on the white of the road as we descend the grassy embankment, realizing for the first time that I'm now as far from home as I've ever been. Jude's been further; he's been all the way to the southern cities on ore runs to the markets. Not for the first time, my thoughts fall to Jude and how much I could use his help right now. Not just as a guide, but as a source of comfort. Altair, stalking the grass ahead of me like a predator, is about as comforting as a butter knife in shark infested waters. And Traylor, my brother, lumping along close behind me, well, we've never really been that close. 
    It's the age gap, I think.
    "What do you think are the chances Jude cut and run south?" I ask, inching a little closer to Altair. "I mean, when I told him to go into hiding, he was pretty damn terrified the Deacons would find him." I pause, considering. "Maybe he was so scared that he skipped town altogether before the Final Judgment even happened. Maybe he headed east. I mean, nobody in Krakelyn's heard anything about him. And like my Father said, there's no reason for him to stay in hiding now that everyone's–"
    "Shut up!" Altair silences me with a quick hand gesture. I'm taken aback by his rudeness. I come up to where he's crouched low in the grass, peering dead ahead.
    "What is it?" I whisper as low as I can.
    "SHHH!" Altair returns with an even ruder gesture.
    "Yeah, Juno, shut up!" Traylor smirks just behind me. I want to elbow him but don't.
    Altair guides his right hand up before him, nudging a few blades of the tall, wiry grass aside, opening a surprisingly adequate hole through which to spy. I see the road, but that's all I can see. I wait patiently for a full minute to go by, and still Altair hasn't moved. He's just staring forward. I fidget uncomfortably, lightly clearing my throat.
    I can't take it anymore.  
    "What are we –" I start to whisper, but am cut off as Altair deftly slips two fingers around my lips, actually pinching them shut. I'm so taken aback that I can do nothing but scowl at the man. The funny thing is, Jude used to do this same thing to me when he’d want me to shut up. For us, though, it was a romantic thing. With Altair, it's just plain weird. He lets me go and puts the same fingers to his own lips, indicating silence. I'm about to make a rude gesture at him when I hear it coming:
    C la-clop cla-clop cla-clop...
    Ten seconds later, my breath is frozen as a large cloaked figure ambles by on a massive black destrier. The man coughs heavily as he passes, seemingly oblivious. I see red cracked sores on an emaciated hand as the man brings a kerchief up to his mouth. He appears to have the wasting disease. 
    Rot, some people call it.
    His horse, similarly, has lumpy tumors all over its body, but they seem not to hinder the creature. The man gets a few good paces away from us and, surprisingly, Altair urges me forward. I inch up directly beside him.
    "Watch the horse's ears," he says calmly.
    Mystified, I do. Altair reaches to the ground and picks up a small , thin twig, dried out and fossilized. I keep watching the horse as it continues to wander away.
    Altair snaps the twig.
    Nearly instantaneously, the horse's ears twitch in the direction of the sound. The man coughs loudly

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