Chapter 112: Crossroads

Chapter 112: Chapter 112: Crossroads

"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both." — Robert Frost

The heavy wooden wagon rumbled along the open road, its wheels grinding against the packed dirt. Dust drifted behind the convoy, and the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the surrounding fields.

Riven sat in the back of the rearmost wagon, leaning against a stack of feed sacks. Nyx rested across his lap, her obsidian scales gleaming faintly whenever sunlight slipped through the canvas.

He had spent the better part of the journey sleeping.

It had been a quiet trip so far. The merchants were cautious, but after the ambush at Gorgon’s Throat, they had become considerably more comfortable having Riven nearby. A few had even tried to strike up conversations with him.

He had politely declined most of them.

There was only so much enthusiasm he could muster for discussions about iron prices and wagon repairs.

The wagon slowed.

Then it stopped.

Riven opened his eyes as the canvas flap shifted.

Garet leaned inside, squinting against the dust.

"Well, kid? We’re coming up on the split."

Riven glanced toward him.

"Already?"

"Been a few hours since the last stop. You sleep through most of the journey?"

"More or less."

Garet shook his head with a quiet chuckle.

"Must be nice. Anyway, the road divides here. South goes toward the imperial capital and the. East cuts through the foothills toward the elven borderlands."

He pointed toward the road behind him.

"We’re taking the eastern route. Which way are you dropping?"

Riven didn’t answer immediately.

He looked past Garet, toward the fork in the road.

The southern route stretched across a wide, open plain. It would eventually lead toward the imperial capital, where the Academy stood and where Lyra would return when the next term began.

The eastern road was narrower. It wound through the foothills before disappearing into a stretch of distant woodland. Beyond those forests lay the elven borderlands.

Two roads.

Two destinations.

And one decision he had been putting off for longer than he cared to admit.

Riven lowered his gaze to Nyx. His fingers moved absently over the smooth scales along her neck.

He could go south.

It was the most direct route to the capital, and there was little reason to delay his return. He had spent enough time away from the Human Empire. His transit pass was valid, his affairs in the Demon Empire were settled, and he had a promise waiting for him.

Lyra.

The thought brought a faint warmth to his chest.

He had not forgotten her. Not for a moment.

The princess was currently staying within the ancient sanctuary of the Elven Forest. The place was protected by powerful wards and guarded by the elves themselves. With his Transit Pass and his record, he would have little trouble gaining entry.

He could visit her now.

He could stand beside her again, see her face, and make sure she was safe.

But Riven knew that she was already safe.

The sanctuary was one of the most secure places in the known world. Even if he went there, he would not be able to change much. He could spend a few weeks visiting her, perhaps longer, but eventually she would eventually go to the capital.

The Academy term began in six months.

She’s safe for now, Riven thought. And I’ll see her again when the Academy term begins.

His fingers paused against Nyx’s scales.

There’s no point rushing east just to reassure myself.

The decision seemed simple enough.

He should go south.

There was another promise.

One that had been sitting in the back of his mind since the moment he escaped the Abyss.

Elara.

Riven’s expression changed slightly.

Not enough for Garet to notice, but enough that Nyx lifted her head and looked at him.

He remembered the cold alcove where he had first found her. The woman who had been trapped in the Abyss for years, yet still possessed the strength to help someone else. The one who had dragged him back from the edge when his mind had begun to unravel.

He remembered the training.

The relentless strikes.

The correction of every careless movement.

The way she had forced him to control his breathing, to keep his posture steady, and to stop treating pain as an excuse to abandon discipline.

He remembered the moments between those lessons, too.

The quiet conversations.

The warmth of her presence.

The trust they had built while surviving in a place that seemed determined to devour them both.

And he remembered the promise he had made.

He would find her.

He would repay the debt he owed her.

Riven leaned back against the wagon.

It did not need to be complicated.

He could not walk into the capital and begin making plans while leaving that promise unfulfilled. He could not ask himself to become someone dependable while ignoring the person who had helped him survive.

Lyra was safe.

The Academy would come in six months.

But Elara was somewhere beyond his reach, and he had no idea what had happened to her after the emergency gate scattered them.

That uncertainty bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

He had spent months in the Abyss, fighting to survive. He had lost friends in the Demon Empire. He had returned to the surface with a body that was stronger than before and a mind that still carried the weight of everything he had endured.

Yet there was one thing he had not done.

He had not kept his promise.

Riven exhaled slowly.

"South," he said.

Garet raised an eyebrow.

"South?"

"That’s right."

The caravan master glanced toward the eastern road.

"That’s not where we’re going."

"I know."

Garet looked back at him.

"Then you’ll have to get off here."

"That was the plan."

Garet gave him a puzzled look.

"You’ve been riding with us for days. You could have mentioned this earlier."

"I wasn’t sure which way I was going."

"Until now?"

"Until now."

Garet studied him, then gave a low grunt.

"Well, at least you’re not asking me to turn the entire caravan around."

Riven gave a faint shrug.

"That would be inconvenient."

Garet snorted.

"You’re telling me."

Riven gathered his belongings. There wasn’t much to take. His sword, his dagger, a few supplies, and the small collection of things he kept tucked away in his spatial storage.

Nyx climbed back onto his shoulders as he moved toward the wagon’s opening.

Garet stepped aside.

"Be careful out there. The foothills aren’t exactly safe. There are still bandits in the region, and the closer you get to the elven borderlands, the more likely you are to run into trouble with the local patrols."

"I’ll manage."

"That’s what everyone says."

Riven climbed down from the wagon.

His boots touched the packed dirt with a soft thud. The tailored vest settled around his frame, their dark fabric absorbing the sunlight. Nyx adjusted herself around his shoulders, her tail curling loosely against his chest.

Riven looked toward the eastern road.

The distant foothills were partially obscured by a thin veil of mist. Beyond them lay the forests and cities.

Somewhere beyond that, he hoped, was a trail that would lead him to Elara.

He had no clear idea where to begin.

He didn’t know which settlements she might have reached, which roads she might have taken, or whether she had even returned to the surface.

But he had to start somewhere.

Garet watched him from the wagon.

"You’re really going alone?"

Riven glanced back.

"Nyx is coming."

The creature gave a small hiss, as though agreeing.

Garet rubbed his beard.

"That’s not quite what I meant."

"I know."

For a moment, the caravan master looked as though he wanted to say something else. Perhaps he wanted to warn the boy again. Perhaps he wanted to ask what sort of promise could send someone into the foothills alone.

In the end, he simply sighed.

"Well, good luck, then."

Riven gave him a small nod.

"Thanks for the ride."

"Don’t mention it. And if you ever need another ride south, find the Sterling Mercantile Company. Just make sure you tell me before you fall asleep for three days."

"I’ll try."

Garet laughed.

Riven turned away.

The caravan began moving again, its wheels groaning as the wagons rolled toward the southern road. The merchants waved to him from the passing wagons, and a few called out their farewells.

Riven raised one hand in acknowledgment.

He watched the convoy continue down the road until the dust began to settle.

There was a promise to keep first.

Riven adjusted Nyx on his shoulders and started walking.

The southern road stretched ahead of him, winding between the hills before disappearing into the distant forest.

He had no map of Elara’s location.

No reliable information.

No guarantee that he would find her.

Riven didn’t particularly care.

He had searched for ways to survive the Abyss when survival seemed impossible. He had crossed the Demon Empire, endured six months of waiting, and fought his way through battles that should have killed him.

Finding one person couldn’t possibly be more difficult.

At least, that was what he told himself.

Nyx nudged his cheek with her head.

Riven glanced at her.

"What?"

She stared at him with her violet eyes.

He sighed.

"Yes, I know. We have a long way to go."

Nyx settled comfortably against his shoulder.

Riven continued down the eastern road, leaving the southern turnpike behind.

For the first time since returning to the surface, he had chosen a destination that wasn’t tied to a contract, a guild, or a political obligation.

He was going because he had given his word.

And he intended to keep it.