Dashyl's Quest

It was clear that Dashyl and Fretly were not going to make Anchorwatch by the end of the day. Traveling through the brush on the other side of the river from the road took much longer than they had expected. They would often find their way blocked by vegetation or rocks and would have to go out of their way to get around each obstacle.

“Let’s make camp soon,” Dashyl said to Fretly, “We’re not going to make the city before night, but there’s still a good amount of light left.”

“We don’t need that much light to make camp,” Fretly replied. “You just want to read more of your father’s journal. I saw you reading it this morning. Anything good?”

“It’s mostly stuff I remember about the journey. No big secrets yet,” Dashyl admitted. “It would be nice to rest some. I’m bushed from all this bushwhacking.”

“Ha, you’re funny,” Fretly chuckled. “Okay, let’s make camp at the next spot we find. We can relax some tonight.”

The two walked on, smashing their way through the brush. Their hands and clothes smelled of green sap, everything about them was sticky. Fretly constantly rubbed his hands together to get them clean. “Hey Dash, “ he said clapping his hands together and pretending they were stuck together, “I’ve been wondering.”

“What?”

“What’s waiting for you back home,” Fretly asked, peeling his hands apart and pushing more branches out of the way.

“I dunno. Just home, I guess,” Dashyl answered after thinking about it some.

“Yeah, I mean, you don’t have your mom or your dad, no other family there, right?”

“No. Nobody. Once my father was exiled, I lost all of my friends, too.”

“Well, Dash, I think you should come with me to Fairewood. There are many kids like you there.”

“Kids like me,” Dashyl asked.

“Yeah, kids like you with no mom or dad. But they do have a family; it’s called the Urchyn’s Clan. I’m part of that family.”

“Urchyn’s Clan? Sounds fishy.”

“No, no. Well, you become slippery as a fish.” Fretly explained, “You see, the Urchyn’s Clan gives you a home, a family and a living. People come to Fairewood from all over Veratar for entertainment. Those people are wealthy and they come to lose that wealth in Fairewood. Whether they lose it by paying for tickets or meals or art or it is lifted from their person, any way you slice it, they don’t take it home with them. The Urchyn Clan is a tight group who live free, but live for each other and for the good of the Clan. You would be welcome to join.”

“Maybe,” was all Dashyl could say.

“It’s an exciting life,” Fretly persuaded. “Maybe not the life of a chemist, but every day can be an adventure in Fairewood,”

“If it’s so great, why did you leave?”

“Ah, well, there comes a time when you get too old to be part of the Urchyn’s Clan. Most people take various jobs at Fairewood, acrobats, radia jugglers, pirolyns; or they leave. I left to seek wealth and glory. I heard about the tournament from an Ithilian who was visiting Fairewood. He offered me a fair share of the prize if I would join his team and help him win. So, I joined his team with my friend Farley and we left Fairewood for Trader’s Haunt.”

They had come to the crest of a small hill. Fretly stopped walking and turned to look southwest towards the Tournament Plains where Farley had died. He drew a deep breath and his voice cracked when he spoke again. “I didn’t think I would be returning to Fairewood so soon...or alone.”

Dashyl clapped Fretly on the back. “Well, it sounds like a fun place, Fairewood, you’ll have to tell me more after nightfall. It looks like there’s a clearing up ahead where we can make camp and I can read more of my father’s journal.”

Fretly nodded silently, staring off into the distance. Dashyl smashed his way through the last bit of foliage as he trotted down the hill into the clearing. “Come on,” he called to Fretly, “let’s go.”