Chapter 8.3: Lake Gendarr

For the next two days, the traveling party stuck entirely to the roads. First, it was the road that ran several miles south from Ascalon Settlement toward the eastern side of the Lionbridge Expanse. There they rejoined the main thoroughfare that ran west-to-east through the Gendarran region. This was a conscious decision on the part of the sergeant, who’d aimed to thread a needle between centaur slave-traders to the west and north and pirates to the east and south.

According to reports, the Jackdaw and Cutthroat pirates had inhabited the Brigantine Isles at the center of Lake Gendarr for years. The two bands occasionally had their feuds, but for the most part, they were able to coexist, holding different sections of the lake and not encroaching on one another. That, of course, was not as beneficial for the inhabitants and travelers of the area, who were at risk of either being robbed and killed by the Cutthroats or kidnapped and ransomed by the Jackdaws.

Though the group could have skirted the southern edge of the lake and saved several hours of travel, Sergeant Ventyr had explained to Jindel that he planned to take the hit on time in order to keep to the safety of the road. Thus, they took the road south through the Broadhollow Bluffs. In truth it mattered very little to Jindel one way or the other, except that it was the sergeant’s orders.

The morning of the second day, they picked up camp in their usual manner, eating a quick meal from their rations, packing their belongings, and slowly beginning eastward again while Jindel worked to clear their tracks and all evidence of their campsite. It was a security measure Ventyr always held to, just in case any other travelers were curious enough to follow tracks they might have left.

Breaking into a light jog, Jindel left the spot that had been their camp. The pans hanging from the side of her pack clattered to the rhythm of her step as she caught up with the others a few minutes down the road.

“No trace?” Ventyr asked as she slowed to a walk beside him.

“No trace, sir,” she confirmed.

Still walking she bent down to rub her aching calf. The bullet wounds were a few days gone now, thanks to Minkus’ healing work, but every night as she slept, the muscles tightened, leaving her cramped and stiff the next morning. Even late into the days, serious exertion would leave her in pain, pain she hoped nobody would notice, even though Minkus always did.

“Still hurts?” he asked from behind her. She didn’t see his face, but she could hear the concern she’d become so familiar with.

“Not as bad, but yes, it still hurts.”

“The soreness will just take time, Minkus,” Ventyr commented. “Even the best healers can’t avoid it.”

It was the third time he’d said it in as many days, but each time the matter came up, it was clear the asura needed to hear it again. According to the sergeant, that lingering soreness was something no healer could get around. As intricate a thing as a body was, there would always be recovery, both for the shock of damage and the shock of rapid healing.

“And your shoulder?” Minkus asked, rolling up onto his tiptoe as he stepped, as if to look over her shoulder, which, even on his tiptoes, was a good foot taller than he was.

Jindel, now walking upright again, put a hand to her shoulder again. She’d felt that wound so many times. “It’s fine,” she lied, biting off the words.

“I—” the asura began, pausing. “I could still finish. I mean, I could heal the rest of the scar if you—”

“No,” she retorted, increasing her pace to extend the distance between them. “I told you, I want the scar.” Minkus slumped a little as he slowed, falling farther behind.

Arkayd stepped up beside Minkus. All morning she’d been noisily tightening the bolts that held her slipshod pistol together. “Biggie,” Jindel heard her say, “lay off. Soldier girl told you three times she doesn’t want your help. If she wants to wear that scar like some kind of badge, then fine, let her.”

There was a pause in talk, but only for a moment before Jindel suddenly stopped and turned to Penny. “No. You know what? You lay off.”

Penny stopped, within feet of the woman now facing her. Not a hint of shock on her face, she raised her eyes from her fidgety work and brushed black hair out of her face.

“He’s just being nice,” Jindel went on, pointing at Minkus. The asura’s eyes were always so kind, which was at once disarming and infuriating. She dropped her hand. “I’m sorry if I sound ungrateful refusing you.” He nodded, clearly thankful, and she continued, returning her attention to the other human. “But you. You may be OK forgetting your failures and losses—I’m sure you have tons—but I’m not. I’m not forgetting. I failed.” She fell silent for a moment, tangled in a web of thoughts. “What’s it to you if Minkus keeps trying to help me, anyway?” She looked back at Minkus for a moment. He seemed to listen as attentively with his big eyes as he did with his even bigger ears. “If he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t have to stop asking just because I say ‘no’.”

The two women exchanged a charged stare for only a few seconds. Penny lowered the weapon in her hand back into its holster but didn’t take her eyes off Jindel. Each human held her back erect and head level. Penny was finally the one to speak, with a shrug that didn’t even begin to bely the fire in her eye. “Look, I don’t care what either of you do. Let’s just keep moving so we can get this little vacation over with.”

They walked on in relative silence as the hills of Broadhollow leveled out, rising into a grass-topped ledge some thirty feet up that ran parallel to the road just to the north. Though they couldn’t see it beyond the bluff, the patchy but thick clouds congealed into a large stormfront many miles to the north, over the lake. Only the peals of thunder cracking in the distance told them of its presence, but those soon faded away, replaced by the much nearer hunting calls of a flock of raptors up on the hillside above. There was a drizzle late in the afternoon, but it was also light and quick, doing little more than sprinkling their heads and shoulders with the tiniest pinpricks of a chill. With each bit of nature distracting them one after the next, the four strode farther on, toward their objective and away from their losses, finally reaching their intended inn late in the day.

Applenook was a small village, a day’s travel nearly due North of Lion’s Arch. It was home to the families that ran the farms of Cornucopian Fields, the largest farmer-owned and farmer-run plot of land in Gendarran Fields, and perhaps all of Kryta. With the sun already setting, most of the farmers and traders were well into packing up and heading home. The couple who were still at their stalls, however, were quick to greet the strangers, quicker to engage in friendly conversation, and perhaps quickest to invite them to see their wares in the trade gazebo. Jindel nearly ignored it all, still fingering at the scar in her shoulder.

What she couldn’t ignore, though, were the repeated, inquisitive glances at Ventyr. Along the road, at the trade stalls, and even in the common room at the inn, it seemed everyone in town wanted to sneak a look at him. No one else in the party received such attention, not even Minkus. At the inn, it was finally explained to them.

According to the innkeeper, it wasn’t every day a sylvari passed through their village. In fact, it wasn’t even every year. Some years prior, an asura had come to make a home among the farmers, researching ways to leverage magic and technology in agriculture, so the humans there had grown accustomed to the mannerisms and philosophy of the asura. It seemed there were also a couple of norn in the hamlet and a charr cub being fostered by a local woman. Coincidently, there had even been another asura traveler who’d passed through town earlier that very day. He was smaller than usual and rather curt, the innkeeper mused as he shared the story, but not stingy with his money. All in all, the long-winded innkeeper’s point was that the humans of Applenook were well familiar with a few other of Tyria’s races, but not sylvari. Jindel was grateful when the history lesson ended.

They got an early start the next day, rising before dawn and continuing on out of town to the north. The day before, their eastward road had arched north around the great Cornucopian mill, just south of the hamlet, and on this day’s leg, it bent back eastward again a few miles beyond the village, leading right up to a bridge that crossed the canal between Lake Gendarr and Lake Bounty.

By the time the sun was approaching the height of its course across the sky, all of the previous day’s cloud-cover had vanished, and the heat of the sun balanced the remaining bite in the air. Penny almost found herself feeling warm.

She unbuttoned the high collar of her coat and decided to just keep going, unbuttoning the long, fur-edged coat from top to bottom. She walked ahead of the two Vigil members, with only Minkus in front of her. The sun seemed to have sparked even more life in the asura. His steps seemed bouncier, his ears and arms floppier, and his childish grin wider as he strolled toward the end of the stone bridge across the canal. He took in the broad bodies of water on either side of the bridge as though he’d never seen a lake before. Penny rolled her eyes as she watched him, but she couldn’t stop a gentle grin from crawling across her lips at the same time. “What’s got you so peppy?” she asked, nearly catching up with him.

He turned back, looking excited enough to burst. “It’s almost warm enough to go barefoot!”

“Well, glory be to Dwayna,” she mocked.

“Perhaps tomorrow it will be,” he went on, unhindered. “Boots are fine, but the best part about them is taking them off, feeling the ground beneath your feet, the tickle of cool grass. Don’t you just love that feeling Penny?” He spun back around. “There’s nothing like it.”

“I’m fine with my boots, thanks.” She shook her head but couldn’t shake the faint smile. “How in the world can that make you so happy?” she asked.

He grinned up at her. “It reminds me of all the best parts of Metrica. Chasing sparkflies at dusk. Sneaking off with Jinkke to swim in the loch. Oh, and watching the annual skelk-skelk-ooze competition at the plaza!”

“It’s not like here,” he continued. “There isn’t a winter in Metrica. It’s always warm, nice and warm. No one wears shoes if they don’t have to.” He trailed off, bounding on ahead of her again, and she simply watched him.

Where the bridge met the sand on the other side, though, Minkus’ jovial stride came to a sudden stop. “Oh my ears,” he gasped, staring down at something just around the edge of the stone wall that ran along the north side of the bridge. He dropped his bag and kneeled to the ground, just out of sight.

“What is it, Biggie? Did you find a hurt squirrel?” she asked with a wry smirk.

As she rounded the end of the wall, he came back into view, along with something else. No, it was someone else: another asura, lying almost motionless against the stones. The dirt around him was tinted red in spatters, as was the left side of his body. His eyes were closed, and slow, shallow breaths were his only visible movement. “Gods—” Penny exhaled. “Ventyr, get up here now!”

Minkus leaned over the bloodied asura, taking in the massive bruises and cuts peering out from beneath the stranger’s tattered clothing. The victim was a great deal shorter and more slender than Minkus was. His hair was a dark crimson, much like the puddle of blood beneath him, and from what Penny could tell, his complexion behind the wounds was a darker gray than that of her friend.

“Hello?” Minkus said gently, watching intently for any kind of response. “Can you hear me?”

The smaller asura’s eyes burst open, causing both Penny and Minkus to jump.

“Ah!” the stranger yelped. “Please— please just leave me alone!” He scrambled to push himself away from Minkus but found himself blocked by the stonework wall. His eyes were wide. Not as big as Minkus’, maybe, but wide with fright. And, those impossibly large irises were the brightest yellow Penny had ever seen. Were they somehow reflecting the sun?

Minkus extended his hands in reassurance as he leaned back. He was as shocked as the other asura. “Oh, no. It’s OK. We’re here to help.”

By now, Ventyr and Jindel had caught up, and Penny watched the asura’s eyes scanned them each, one by one. He took in his surroundings, and the frantic expression slowly faded from the asura’s eyes. “You— you’re not pirates?”

“Pirates?” Minkus asked, taken aback. “No, not pirates.”

“Was it pirates who did this to you?” Ventyr questioned, standing over Minkus.

The asura still looked at them from behind a wary scowl. “Yes,” he said, reaching for his left arm, the sleeve of which was soaked in blood. He winced on contact. “At least I think so.”

“May I?” Minkus asked, gesturing to the arm. The other asura nodded, then grimaced as Minkus, gently as he could, peeled away the ripped fabric.

“I’m sorry,” Minkus said, continuing to separate the woolen sleeve from the coagulating blood. As he worked, he remembered his bedside manner. “Forgive me. I’m Minkus the Large. My friends are Penny, Ventyr, and Jindel. What should we call you?”

Still wincing at Minkus’ touch, the other asura met Minkus’ gaze with those bright, yellow eyes. “My name is Skixx.”