Unbabe's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Unbabe pushed through the wet brush of Outpeak, tracking the warlord who had burned his clan to ash. His boots sank in cold mud. River Wanderer walked close behind, her small fluffy dog trotting at her heels. The trail had gone cold for weeks. He would not stop until it ran warm again. They came upon a dark cottage smothered in vines. The windows glowed faint, like something inside still breathed. River Wanderer stepped forward and hissed, lifting her boot. A jagged shard had cut her sole. She knelt. A broken horn lay in the dirt, shimmering blue and gold even in the gloom. Beside it, half-buried in leaves, sat a folded scrap of paper. She picked it up with careful fingers. Her dog sniffed the horn and whined. "Unbabe," she whispered. "Look." Two place names were written in shaky ink, the second smeared with a dark thumbprint. Blood, dried brown. He took the paper. The door of the cottage hung open a crack. Inside, slumped against a heavy stone hearth, a man lay folded over himself. Unbabe crossed the room in three strides and dropped to one knee. The stranger's eyes flickered open. His lips moved. "He rides for—" A wet cough cut him short. His head fell sideways. Gone. Unbabe stared at the paper in his fist. Two locations. One name finished, one swallowed by a dead man's throat. He stood slowly. "We split the difference," he said. "We pick one. And we ride."