The trio seemingly made it up the rest of the hill with little trouble. There was no movement or noise form back in the town indicating that the forest beast was still alive or coming for them which was a good sign. There was no inclination of any bandits in the area, also, which was a blessing. Once they made it to the top, the riverbed was in clear view bellow them. It seemed a little damp and muddy, but, it seemed like they'd be able to travel to the other side of they were extra careful.
Bernon looked relieved. "Good. I was kinda worried that the riverbed would be flooded after all the weather we've gotten over the last week." He led them down the slope and started picking his way along the bank, looking for a safe place to drop in. "Huh. I think this river was man-made. See how the sides are built up with rocks? And this sandy bed isn't really natural-looking. Maybe that's why the water eventually quit using this path."
Mike shrugged, consulting his map before heading off to the right along the deep channel. "Who knows. Just watch out for snakes and badger holes. And people, of course."
"I love how snakes was you're first priority there, Mike and not people. I feel like they might come high on the list of dangers then snakes and badger holes." Tanrial raised a brow with a small laugh, making sure not to fall as she followed the other two.
"Humans can be reasoned with. Snakes and badgers can't." Mike shrugged. "I am probably being over-optimistic about the humans, though."
"No no, don't discourage yourself from the idea," Bernon said. "I still think even bandits can be friendly if you know what to say."
Mike grimaced. "Maybe…..but the villagers warmed me about the bandits on the south side of this river especially. Apparently they're some kind of cult, and very warlike. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that you can't talk sense to cultists."
"Damn right you can't," Tanrial agreed, "Some people in those things get brainwashed and then they're stuck there for the rest of their lives. You know, once I heard a story about this girl who's family was in a cult and her mum prank called her saying that their family was dead which wasn't true. Who the hell does that kinda thing?"
"That's horrible," Bernon said. "Yeah, let's avoid the cultists."
The river took a turn up ahead, and Mike cautiously peeked around the corner of the bank to make sure no one was there. What he saw made him narrow his eyes. "Welp. Unfortunately, there's only so much we can do to avoid them right here. Looks like this is the start of their turf."
He pointed at a dead tree that had fallen across the riverbed in front of them. It didn't completely block the path, but it was clearly a boundary marker. A human skeleton was lashed to the center of the trunk an had been "decorated" with long buzzard feathers and tarry black paint. Nasty-looking symbols and words were carved into the rotten wood, spelling out in no uncertain terms that the fate of this tribe's enemies was never pleasant.
Bernon looked like he was trying not to gag. "Let's…be…..very careful now. I never want to meet these bandits."
"Don't jinx us now Bernon," She mumbled, grimacing at the sight of the skeleton, "Let's just get through as quick and quietly as we can, yeah? I'd rather not end up like that guy."
Mike nodded, sidling to the right and inching under the fallen tree, staying as far away from the grimy bones as possible. While he waited for them to join him on the other side, he quickly consulted his map. "I think, if we really hustle, we can get to the other side of the danger zone by nightfall. We should all feel pretty motivated to make that happen now, right?"
Bernon nodded firmly, his face a bit green. "If we do have to camp out here, how do you feel about staying on the north side of this river, so in theory the cult can't get to us? Or….are the bandits on that side just as bad?"
"The villagers said the northern group is pretty reclusive and relatively non-violent, but I wouldn't want to push our luck too far. Again, let's plan on not letting it come to that."
“But, if we do have to camp out here for the night, staying on the northern side sounds much better then on crazy cult territory. Making it to the other side is the ideal situation so we really have to get moving.”
Both Bernon and Mike nodded and set off down the dried-out channel. "You're right, let's hurry."
As the sun rose over the trees and the temperature started to rise, they reached a part of the river where the forest on either side was mostly dead. They didn't see or hear any people, but there were plenty of signs that the area was occupied: footprints in the mud, trash on the banks of the river, and more "decorated" trees here and there to the south. Buzzards circled high overhead, and flies and mosquitos filled the shady parts of the river bed with their oppressive buzz.
"Even if this place wasn't filled with bandits, I don't think I'd stick around for long," Bernon muttered after a while, seeming weighed down by the late morning heat. "It feels like the only creatures living here are the ones that feed off dead things."
"It's too muggy," Tanrial sighed, picking up large stick to help herself walk through the mud even though she didn't need it, "And I mean the dead things are definitely a downer too but why would you wanna live somewhere where there isn't even a lake in sight? The river is just mud."
"They must have some kind of clean water source," Mike speculated. "But it's probably farther south. Hopefully their camp is farther south too. We'll be less likely to run into them if that's the case—oh shoot." He suddenly ducked to the side, pushing them along with him into the shelter of the bank. "Keep your voices down, I think I saw someone up ahead."
"You had to say something, didn't you," Bernon whispered nervously. "Is it just the one guy, could you tell?"
"I'm pretty sure. I think he was just walking by….let's give him a minute, maybe he'll leave soon without noticing us."
"If there wasn't someone walking by I'd thrown sand at you Mike," Tanrial mumbled, "Why is it that whenever you try and come up with a conclusion to something you end up jinxing us? Honestly I might as well put a spell on you to stop you from doing so."
"It's probably just karma punishing me for my generally negative outlook," Mike responded, not sounding like he planned to change his ways any time soon. "Bernon, take a peek and see what he's up to over there."
Bernon very carefully edged around and peered over the rocks, then hurriedly ducked back down. "He too a seat by the bank. I think he's a sentry or something."
"Great." Mike set his jaw in determination, swatting away the flies crowding around them. "If he doesn't leave in another five minutes, I say we jump him and run for it."
Then, one of the flies spoke. "Tanrial? Is that you?"
Tanrial blinked, glancing between Mike and Bernon for a moment before clearing her throat quietly, “I uh… yes? Quite possibly? Do I um.. know… you…?”
"Well unless you've contracted a case of amnesia since we last met, then yes, you know me!" the fly exclaimed. "It's me, the spirit in the mirror! Weren't you staying with that bandit tribe? I take it you managed to escape. Oooh, are these your friends?"
Mike and Bernon were staring at her. "Um….Tanrial? Who are you talking to?"
“Oh shit! Yeah sorry I completely blanked there,” She chuckled softly, “Right yes, Mike, Bernon, don’t kill any of the flies. They’re a… friend? Sorry I didn’t catch your name last time.”
"Oh, it's wiser not to speak my name. In the meantime, you may call me Whisper." The flies converged into a single humming mass, making Mike and Bernon flinch away in alarm. "Who are your companions? They look….interesting."
"You're friends with a mob of flies?" Mike asked in flat disbelief. "When did this happen?"
“Okay Whisper is not just a mob of flies, Mike,” Tanrial rolled her eyes, “Back at the bandit camp I was asked to help out with one of the bandits injuries after they came back from a raid or whatever. Turns out that the injuries that the boy received were basically the same as Blue’s so Boar-Back asked me to check it out. One thing led to another and then we found this mirror and inside was Whisper. A spirit,” She explained, “Whisper this is Mike and Bernon, Bernon and Mike, this is Whisper.”
"Pleasure to meet you both!" Whisper must have adjusted his voice so that everyone could hear it, because the boys jumped in surprise. "Hmm, seems like you're in a bit of a pickle here. Is that dear bandit keeping you from going wherever you're wanting to go? I know him very well–I've been having o much fun with this tribe over the last few days. He's a dangerous one, you can be sure of that. One look at you, and he'll sound the alarm." A pause. "I could help, if you like. For a price of course."
Tanrial raised a brow, “Really? You’d help us? What’s your price, I don’t think that guy is gonna move anytime soon.”
"He'll move, trust me. As for what I'd like in return, well….how about a memory? A nice interesting one. It can be from any of you, I'll let you decide."
Bernon glanced at Tanrial. "I'm sorry, but I'm getting a real strong sense that this isn't the kind of spirit we should really be making deals with. Are you sure we can trust it?"
She sighed a little, “I mean what’s the other option? Try and jump the dude and what? Maybe miss and he goes and alerts the others? All we need to give is a memory in return, that’s it, I don’t see why we don’t accept the deal.”
"This seems really sketchy," Mike muttered, turning back to Whisper. "What kinds of memories are the most 'interesting'? And how do we give them to you?"
"Memories of strife, suffering, and loss are preferable, since you asked. They don't have to be pivotal, life-changing memories or anything, but the more emotions tied to them, the better. And you give them to me by picturing them in your head so I can take them from you. Any takers?"
"I'll do it if no one else wants to," Bernon volunteered bravely. "Although I don't know if any of my memories are nasty enough."
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