Book I, Chapter I

The Wanderer

“I am a wanderer,

A wanderer am I.

My road stretches very far,

Until the day I die.

For I am a wanderer,

Gazing at the sky.

I follow the sun and the moon

Awaiting my death and doom.

I pray to Martel

That they will not come soon.

I wander ‘til my clothes are ragged,

My beard grow long and gray.

My hat disheveled and dirty,

My staff on the ground it lay.

I wander ‘till my bones are weak,

My skin old and wrinkled.

But for now,

I live for another week.

For I am a wanderer,

A wanderer am I,

Until the day I die.

I am a wanderer,

A wanderer…am…I.”

The Wanderer sang the song with great gusto. He lived to wander the land. The wanderer was a man in his mid-thirties. A shaggy mop of light brown hair shielded his head. A short beard hung from his chin. He was dressed in green and yellow mage robes, a brown sash around his waist. Black boots covered his feet and a green pointed hat sat on his head. He sat, driving a cart; his staff lies in his lap. The staff itself seemed to be made by a master craftsman, a dwarf perhaps if they indeed made staffs. Its shaft was smooth and fine earthy color. At it’s crown was a blue-green gem, glistening magnificently in the fading day’s light. This man, this Wanderer; was obviously a spell caster or mage if you’d like a simple term. Whether he was full-blood elf or half-elf he wasn’t going to tell anyone. Not during these hard times.

Two horses, both a nice tanned hue, were pulling the cart itself. They were a little smaller then usual horses but just as strong. They needed to be to pull the cart’s cargo. In the back were various boxes, sacks, pouches and all kinds of things being shipped to Triet via this Wanderer.

Wanderers themselves are a mysterious group. They are known and yet they are not known. They are seen and yet not seen. Wanderers are miracle makers. At least that’s what the people they help claim. In retrospect they truly do make miracles. They can help cure many diseases, save you from a mana-mad monster, even do the most impossible tasks. But, they’re numbers aren’t as many as people would like. They can’t be everywhere at once either, so they don’t always appear in times of need. Sylvarant is a very big place.

The landscape was very…well you could call it enriched. It actually looked like two different types of landscapes were mixed together. There were patches of sand, here and there, but grass and trees were still abundant. Up ahead you could see the road melting into the hot desert. In that desert was the Wanderer’s destination: Triet. To the northeast stood a tall, proud beacon of hope. The Tower of Salvation.

You see, many years ago, a great war was fought. We refer to this war as the great Kharlan War. In the process of this war, a tree was destroyed. This tree was the source of all mana for the world. Mana is the very life force of the world. It what keeps us all alive. So with the mana tree dead the world was in great peril. The War however, was ended by Mithos. He was heralded as a great hero and even to this day is still praised for ending the war. However there were some…drawbacks, repercussions if you will. The goddess, Martel, the one we all worship disappeared into the heavens and went into slumber.

That’s where the Tower of Salvation and the Chosen comes in.

Every few generations or so, the world begins to fall into decline. Mana is starting to slip away so to speak. So with a special crystal born in their hands, Chosens are meant to unleash the seals on the elements across the world, and go to the Tower of Salvation to regenerate the world.

Simple enough right?

Life is never simple. The Chosen’s task would be easy if it wasn’t for the Desians. The Desians are a group of half-elves bent on making every human in the world suffer. No knows why, or even how. They don’t even want the world to be regenerated. Most people blame them on causing the decline of the world.

Enough history, time to get back to the Wanderer.

Two small specks appeared on the horizon as the sun started to droop in the sky. Trees started getting more and more spread apart. The grass was uneven in places.

Welcome to the desert.

The specks on the horizon turned out to be a human and an elf. Both were still considered young with their own respective cultures. The human was clad in a red shirt lined with many buttons and black pants. His brown hair was spiked and looked as if a great wind had blown it to one side and below his hair peeked out brown eyes. His boots matched his pants, and gloves on his hands matched his shirt. On his left hand glowed a bright red gem. An exshpere. A sort of machine to enhance your capabilities. Two dual swords were attached to his belt. They looked like fearsome weapons in their sheaths. The lad looked to be about seventeen or so. If not, he was somewhere in his late teens.

The other boy was much younger then his human companion. He was about twelve or eleven, still untouched by puberty too, if elves even have puberty. He was dressed in the summer clothes of a shirt with short sleeves and short. The entire outfit was a mix of black, white, and a very light blue. The elf had blue eyes, which, currently was looking at the Wanderer curiously. Long, and very shaggy silver hair was covering the elf’s head.

“Evenin’ strangers,” greeted the Wanderer stopping his horses by them. His voice was loud, and sounded merry. It had a slight accent much like a dwarf’s. “What are two boys like you doing this far from civilization? You on a pilgrimage or something?”

“You could say that,” answered the youthful voice of the elf.

“Where you headed?”

The mature voice of the human replied this time. “Uh…Triet I guess.” He glanced at his Elvin companion who nodded.

The Wanderer jerked his head. “Hop in lads. I’ll give you a lift.”

The two youths complied eagerly. They were footsore after a long day’s walk. The Wanderer clicked his tongue and the horses started at a trot.

“Uh…thanks.” said the human. “Why are you helping us?”

“Dwarven vow number two lad. Always help someone in need.”

The elf smirked. “See Lloyd, why can’t you use the Vows like that?”

“Shut up Genis!” snapped the human.

The Wanderer chuckled. “While we’re on the subject of names, I’m Aberos; a Wanderer.”

“A Wanderer?” asked Lloyd. “What’s that?”

“I’ve heard of them,” Genis spoke up. “They wander around Sylvarant helping people. Not many acknowledge what they do.”

“You’re a smart kid,” remarked Aberos. “That’s the easy, watered down way to say what we are.”

“There’s more then one of you?” Lloyd was getting confused.

“Of course not Lloyd.” Genis felt like hitting Lloyd for his stupidity. “There’s…oh…I’d say maybe twenty or thirty of them.”

“No there are fifty of us.” Aberos corrected him. “There used to be a hundred of us but a battle with the Desians cut our numbers in half.”

“You guys had a battle with the Desians!?” Lloyd sounded shock. This wasn’t sarcasm.

“Lloyd did you even pay attention what Raine told us!?” scolded Genis. “The Wanderer’s are the number one enemies of the Desians.

“Aye lad. Listen to your elf friend here.” The Wanderer butted in. “He’s right.”

“As usual.” muttered the young swordsman. He was getting tired of Genis always being right about everything.

“But enough about me laddie.” said Aberos, changing the subject. “What about you two?”

“Uh…what about us?” Lloyd replied nervously.

“I mean what are you two really doing out here?” The Wanderer turned around and gave the boys critical looks. “Dwarven Vow number eleven lads; lying is the first step to the path of thievery. I know what you two are really doing out here.”

“You…do?”

“Aye. A few days ago I ran across the Chosen’s group on the road. They said they were headed to Triet. The Chosen herself was…concerned about two friends she left back in Iselia. She commented on how Lloyd Irving and Genis Sage would be following her for her entire journey.

“Uh…erm….um…heh heh heh?” They both laughed nervously.

Aberos turned his attention back to the road. “So, Lloyd Irving and Genis Sage eh? Well the least I can do, as a Wanderer is to help you find them. Even if it is against the wishes of the two group members.”

“But there are three members in Colette’s group.” mentioned Genis.

“I believe the third was collecting firewood. He was a mercenary. I didn’t catch his name I’m afraid.”

“Oh.”

“Well lads. The sun is almost fully down for her rest. We should be too. We’re stopping here for the night.”

The sun slowly disappeared and all light faded until tomorrow’s dawn. Aberos pulled the cart to the side of the road, stopped and got out to feed the horses.

“You lads can set up your tent or whatever shelter you decided to bring. I’ll make a fire and start on supper.” He took out wood form the cart and started piling it up neatly. Lloyd and Genis worked on setting up their tent. It did not take long for them to start to bicker.

“Genis the pole goes here.”

“No it goes here. Now look Lloyd you’re tying that rope up all wrong!”

“No you are! Hey! I’m fully capable of doing this my-AHH!”

Aberos had done well in starting a fire. He made it on the sand, away from the few grass patches and even fewer trees to prevent a wildfire.

“Help!” the two boys called. “We’re stuck! Help!”

The Wanderer turned to find the boys tangled in the rope and tent canvas. “How in the name of Cruxis did you two manage to do that? Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

He sighed and yanked on one end of the canvas. The boys were pulled free and Aberos began setting up their tent. “I hope you two are good at cooking, because while I’m doing this you’re making supper.”

One tent set up, dinner and hour later, the three fellow travelers sat in front of the fire.

“A good meal.” Aberos commented. “Genis you can really cook!”

“Unlike my sister,” grumbled the elf. “I got the cooking genes in the family. But when Raine cooks…ugh! It’s torture.”

Aberos chuckled as he took out a dark brown wooden pipe. Half the size of his face, its chimney was the width of his thumb. It had a homely feeling to it. The Wanderer took herbs from a pouch inside his robes, crushed them up, filled his pipe with them, and lit it with a match.

“You do know smoking is bad for you right?” said Lloyd.

“It isn’t that type of smoking with the drugs and the like. Nay, this one has the opposite affect of drugs. It also leaves your breath minty fresh!”

He breathed deep and closed his eyes. “So what weapons can you boys use? It isn’t safe to be unarmed these days.”

Lloyd responded. “I have my swords and Genis has his…like…slingshot…thingy.”

Genis sighed. “It’s called a kendama Lloyd. It helps me with casting magic!”

“Like my staff does.” added Aberos. “Aye, I be a mage too.”

“Can you use a sword at all?” asked Lloyd.

“I’m quite proficient to some degree when the need be.”

Lloyd nodded. He was about to ask another question when a white bird fluttered on Aberos shoulder.

“Ah good. Nerl is back. He has a letter too! I was wondering when my old friend would reply.” The bird, Nerl, dropped a letter from his talon into Aberos’ hand.

“Nerl? And what does it say?” asked Lloyd with curiosity.

“Nerl is my bird companion. He delivers messages and the like. We’re good friends. The letter says that…Oh…just that two people were banished from Iselia for somehow causing the Desians to attack. Pity. Iselia is such a nice village too. It doesn’t say who was banish though.”

Lloyd and Genis breathed sighs of relief. They knew who had been banished.

Aberos yawned. “Well lads. Bedtime. Tomorrow we’ll be up bright and early. We’ve got desert to trek through.”

“Well. OK then. Good night then.”

“Night boys! If you need me I’ll be sleeping by this tree.” he put out the fire and leaned back against the tree he had gestured to. Nerl flapped into the branches of the tree.

Aberos quietly contemplated his new companions as he drifted to sleep.

Well. So Lloyd Irving has finally left Iselia, thought Aberos. He goes out of Dirk’s care and into mine at last. This time I am not just a helpless teenager! How I wish Dirk had sent Nerl back to me sooner. I suppose it cannot be helped.

Aberos breathed deeply as his last thoughts before sleep entered his mind.

I wonder how the adventure with the Chosen will go? Things have been quite dull lately. Perhaps Wanderers will become more known if I help them…

And with those final thoughts, Aberos drifted off to a peaceful slumber.

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