His eyes opened slowly.
He couldn't help but recognize that unique scent, as soon as he woke up.
It was raw, and a bit calmed down, filling his nose, and making his brain tingle.
Bear Belly.
The bed was harsh, but it was comfortable for his injured form since it didn't sink or shake, and was very big.
The ceiling had sausages hanging off it, likely a storage closet repurposed in the heat of the moment.
The last moments, came back to him at once, as he stood up.
He grabbed his coat off the chair next to him, and realized that everything was torn apart, all his clothes save for his boots, which had survived, were destroyed.
His pants were tattered but somewhat intact, but his top was just gone.
He looked around and found that the pouch, enchanted with magic, was still intact.
Stood up now, he put on his hat, to create an illusory set of clothes, to at least look decent, if he couldn't actually be so.
He grabbed the little pouch, and carried it out of the room.
He was inside of Rodrick's home.
The doors were gigantic, but luckily the doors always somewhat opened, precisely for that reason.
He walked a door down and across, glancing inside, Constance was in a deep sleep, wrapped up like a chipmunk in her blanket, snoring quietly.
He passed it and arrived at the living room, like a ghost.
Rodrick stood with his back turned, his cleaver in his hand, looking at the Bear Belly, and cutting it apart in several places.
He crossed the floor, and grabbed his real coat off the rack.
"How're you feeling?" His voice was low, almost, soft.
Rodrick's cleaver slowed.
He felt horrible after the three moons, "Hello."
He always did.
Argo nodded.
His physique was focused on battle, and regeneration, with his blood thicker than most who had some traits from their ancestors, here and there, it made sense he would be nearly fully healed already.
"You know that doesn't matter. But." Argo knew he wouldn't respond to it.
No matter what he said, Rodrick always felt terrible in the end, for his inability to control himself, on these nights, when his blood turned against him.
But, he was glad that he was already fully healed.
Argo waited, but, he was right, and got no reply, and so, he let out a short sigh, shaking his head, he opened the pouch. "I got you something."
Rodrick's nose twitched, and he turned around.
Argo gently set down the pouch on the table.
Rodrick put down the cleaver and reached for it, but stopped, and cleaned his hands quickly, drying them on his clothes, before reaching in, and picking it out.
It was a stone ring, with cracks on it, and some wear and tear, but it was still most certainly a ring.
Though, it looked like more of a collar, if it was made for humans.
Rodrick held it as if it was a long-lost family member, since, in some ways, it was.
"I had to chase it down all the way up to Civoma, but, we managed to find it, in the hands of a rogue. They didn't tell us too much, except that the seller was a Seasal Merchant, who was heading back home, but we lost him. I'm sorry." He had received it from the caravans that had come from Conch, back then, but he had been doing extensive tests, to be certain without a doubt, that it was real.
He knew exactly how much this meant to Rodrick, and so he had to be doubtless, to not hurt him.
That ring was a Life Ring, that is exchanged between husband and wife, this one, belonged to his mother, given by his father, who would have had the death ring.
The Life Ring signified, that the Husband would not throw his life away, staying with her forever.
The Death Ring signified, that she would love and support him, until the end of her days.
When one died, the other would shortly follow.
An ancient tradition, between warrior families.
When they passed, those were meant to be their only momentos, to be passed down in memory of their lives, and a testament to their love and loyalty.
An unbroken pair, carried the labor of countless years.
It was invaluable.
And Rodrick cried.
He held the ring gently, and cried.
It had not broken, even after all this time.
Argo gave him the room, looking away.
Rodrick had shown him, his father's Death Ring a long time ago, he had been taking very good care of it.
That was how he was able to find the Life Ring, since he could trace his mother's blood, which was also his own, through magic, as well as chasing down lead after lead, until across the breadth of the Karlan Empire in the northernmost region's town of Civoma, it was found after four years.
But the Seasal Merchant who had it, was gone.
They couldn't find a trace of them.
The people who killed his family, they had no way to find them.
Argo stepped out, to give Rodrick his space, to grieve, and whatever else he required to do.
He didn't know how long he'd been asleep, but, when he saw the tree's leaves had begun turning more yellow than green, he knew it was high time to be on his way.
Rodrick would return when he was ready, and he was not one to dilly-dally.
Argo changed the illusory image that his hat cast, to an older gentleman, with a right proper attire, and a cane.
His whole body ached, but it was not unbearable, Constance's miracles, had done great work.
He noted it in the back of his head, that perhaps, she had a use after all, and began walking away.
His demeanor changed, as he stepped out of the area of the cottage, from here on, till he left the forest, it would be filled with beasts, but, though it was unlikely they would approach, he nonetheless didn't discount the possibility.
He dropped a wayfinding stone and broke the other under his nose.
Scent trails appeared in his senses, as if he could see, them, he began through the woodland, following it as his way out, and the stone he left at the edge of the cottage, his way back, for his next visit.
Unlike Rodrick, who somehow simply knew this forest well enough to move around without a guide, in the near complete darkness, he had to use some more human means.
"...Leaving so soon?"
He slightly turned.
Constance was stood there, her clothes a little disheveled, as she had clearly ran out from the cottage, racing to catch up to him, with her sword in tow, she was still adjusting her belt.
"How are you tracking me?" Argo flicked a look back and continued walking.
She had potentially saved his life.
He was indebted to her.
Constance caught up, and walked beside him, "I don't know. When I follow the terrible feeling, you just appear at the end of it."
He almost wanted to wail, at how unfair it was.
How was he a 'terrible feeling', that she could just follow and find him?
Was there no way to get rid of it?
"When we exit the forest, you should head back to Loch. The first sign is almost complete. The Bishop will be looking for you." He ducked under a low-hanging branch, his vision piercing the dark, at the rustling not far away.
Constance grinned, a sharp undertone he hadn't seen in quite some time, flickering in her eyes, "The Bishop thinks I'm at a dungeon right now! That'll take a week at least, to clear! And you need protection, you're injured and unarmed, it would be against the tenants of the Church to let you go alone."
"Ah-ha." Argo shook his head.
There was no shaking this carelessly curious child.
She scrunched her nose, "I am not a child."
"Mastered mind reading have you?" Argo stopped just behind a tree, and quietly turned his head.
Constance smiled, "I learned from the-"
She felt a chill run up her spine.
Her eyes moved, and caught Argo's look.
She didn't say a word more.
There was something around.
She felt it in her feet.
It was big.
Bigger than Rodrick, even.
A giant veiny eye peered past them in the dark ahead.
It was easily forty feet up.
A monstrous thing, she couldn't see it's outline, but based off it's steps, it was four legged.
She heard something flap a few times, and then, the steps grew further, and further away.
"...what was that…?" She looked at Argo, who had lost the tension in his body, and was beginning to move again.
"Giant Stag. It's a remnant livestock of the Giants, who live in the mountains southeast of here, near Hacury. People couldn't hunt them. And they still exist in the oldest places around the world till this day." Argo quietly looked around, before he began moving again in earnest.
A thought crossed her mind, and she asked as they moved, almost at a run, "How do you know all this stuff anyway?"
"I liked to read."
"You don't anymore?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Nothing good comes from knowing too much."
"Tell me stuff."
"Like what?"
"Anything."
Argo looked back.
"Are all heroes this noisy?"
"I wouldn't know. I haven't met the others yet."
He looked back forward, the woodlands were vast, and stretched east along the cliffs of the cape, for a long ways, before opening into a road, that would lead them to Creedon.
Constance suddenly screamed, "GIANTS ARE REAL?!"
Argo resisted the urge to laugh, and just let out a little breath that was neither a laugh nor a chuckle, "Their descendants, are the ones who live in the South East mountains. They aren't a hundred feet tall, but expect people a bit shorter than Rodrick, and those with thicker blood, to be about double his height."
"How big were actual giants?" Constance's eyes were round.
They didn't teach these finer details in the church, at all.
The stories were already known, and the things she learned, were all to enhance her chances of becoming a hero, and a good one, at that.
Unnecessary things were left out of the curriculum.
"Eighty or ninety feet tall, for the average skeleton found. But the record largest was one hundred a forty. Before thirty years old, they would be around the size of a regular human but then would begin undergoing very fast growth until they died. They were among the longest-lived, and last to integrate into human society. But, eventually, they too, died out."
"What happened?"
"No one knows for sure. Some say, they just simply vanished. Alongside the other races."
Constance looked a the ground, as it passed quickly under her.
The Church taught that eventually, over the course of a long time, they became human, as they mingled more and more, leaving Humanity as the dominant form of the Goddess of Life.
She had a terrible feeling, and didn't pursue it anymore verbally, but couldn't stop thinking, all the way until they had made it out of the forest.
There was a crossroads, with a sign, that read.
Durleigh.
Creedon.
Bayezaid.
Loch.
Those taking the road, could find their way to those places, from here.
Loch was more than a days travel away now.
Bayezaid was about the same.
Durleigh, on the other hand, was the closest.
A town even smaller than Loch, with less than two thousand inhabitants, it's lord was a weak man, with a weak constitution, his wife, in charge of all affairs in his place, as he slowly wasted away.
Survived by only one young son, it was a desperate place, that few came to, despite it being the first town to stop in, between Karlan and Hacury.
Though, that brought it's own troubles.
Argo couldn't help but think of the things in Durleigh.
There was a reason, he hadn't expanded into there, until recently, when Rouge had been destroyed.
The turf wars there, were still going on strong.
But, no one knew who Sin's Boss was, and with his hat, no one would recognize him as the Lord of Loch, either.
To get a carriage, and leave to Creedon, was the goal.
As he stood there, looking at the sign, and idly making plans, the corner of his vision drifted over to Constance, and he suddenly felt a head ache coming on.
Illusion magic cast by an item was subtle and contained, but the magic she cast and miracles, were still amateurish, having holes, if someone looked close, they'd spot her.
And because of the Bishop's decision, there was no guard that wouldn't recognize her in all of Karlan.
He took off his hat, undoing his disguise and revealing a naked upper half save for a long coat, alongside torn pants and shockingly good-condition boots, he didn't look very noble at all, or proper anymore.
Constance looked at him with a suspicious look, he slapped the hat onto her head, forcing her head down a little, she looked up at him with complaints.
He shook his head.
"Don't lose it. It was very expensive."
The illusion was cast around her.
She looked somewhat like him, a head taller to boot, but her face was fully obscured, a fake one layered on top.
She stared at him, "So this is how you sneak around?"
"I don't sneak." Argo started walking the path to Durleigh.
Constance scrunched her nose, stifling a laugh, "Then, what do you call this?"
There were bandits that littered the roads along this four-way crossroads, since all the major traffic passed through here, it was only natural.
"Security." Argo was reminded of why this whole region, was abandoned.
Sin didn't involve itself in common banditry, nor did it involve itself in this place, for good reason.
An idea crept into his head.
"Have you ever killed anyone, Hero?" Argo couldn't help the edges of his lips curving upwards.
Constance looked at him, with a very suspicious look, her lips barely parted, a small voice leaked out, "...No?"
Good evening everyone.
I'm cooking something very nice, for dinner tomorrow.
I hope you all enjoy it.
Thank you for the support, and have a wonderful day,
Yours,