CHAPTER 29
~Date Unknown~
With the ruins of Westhigh, Archivist's dwelling place for years, quietly smoldering in their wake, Storyteller and Archivist traveled north in search of a new home. The road was a smooth one compared to Storyteller's previous forays, but the fire had extinguished much of their excess supplies and what they had was not adequate for two travelers. Storyteller filled the gap by gathering food from the riverside when he could find it and trading durable goods with merchants when he chanced to meet one. Every day or two they came across a new settlement, offering a new ray of hope. Some of the settlers knew Storyteller - they remembered him from his time with Lifebringer and were happy to offer what hospitality they could. What these settlements lacked was any space for Archivist. Storyteller quickly discovered a grim truth - absent any tangible proof of her skills, most people viewed Archivist as a liability. They had no choice but to press on, with the hopes of better opportunities in the larger trade centers.
In the meantime, life was a daily struggle as Archivist proved ill-suited to the rigors of wasteland life. She had led a sedentary life in Westhigh, sheltered from the hazards of the outside world by the obscurity of her home, and this had left her with a frail physique. She could scarcely walk more than a mile without needing rest and her inappropriate footwear made even that mile a sore one, traits which slowed their progress to a crawl. Nights were no less a challenge. Archivist had never slept outside, and the darkness and strange noises only magnified the fears she already held about the wastes. The food Storyteller found for them often disagreed with her stomach, accustomed as she was to a more stable and bland diet. She ate what she could, but if they couldn't find anything suitable she would simply go hungry. Between exhaustion and hunger, Archivist spent her days in a haze, fighting just to keep her feet under her.
Day by day, Storyteller watched Archivist's limited supply of hope dwindle with each whimper of pain. At first she could endure, drawing strength and joy from Storyteller's accounts of his life, asking countless questions. That enthusiasm faded with each settlement, with each week on the road, and she spoke less and less. The wordy girl from Westhigh was gone. Eventually she was consumed by an almost childlike timidity, clinging to Storyteller's sleeve as though she feared he might leave her behind at the first opportunity.
After one particularly ugly stretch, Storyteller and Archivist arrived at a large outpost, a settlement linking numerous other villages and camps - a trade artery for the less civilized reaches of the wastes. To Storyteller, this was cause for renewed hope, with the promise that a more prosperous and stable place would be more likely to take in someone of Archivist's unique talents. The center of town was dotted with ramshackle stalls, like a miniature version of what Storyteller had seen in the Common Market of Nexus. At one end was a large group of travelers energetically discussing some issue or another. Most of the men were redeemers, their capes faded and torn from their extensive time on the trade roads and beyond.
"This is a good sign," said Storyteller. "A redemption group would be fortunate to have you on their side. Surely one of these groups would be willing to give you quarter."
"Oh, what's the point?" Archivist slumped to the ground. "No one wants me. You should just leave me behind and go on your next journey."
"Nonsense." Storyteller knelt next to Archivist. "Guiding you along this road is my journey. I will not leave you behind."
"What's left to try?" said Archivist.
"Well...we haven't tried the direct route." Storyteller hopped onto a nearby stone and addressed the square. "Excuse me, friends. I know that I am but a stranger to you, but for those who will listen I have a most rare business opportunity. My traveling companion has a skill set that can be very useful to the redemption company with the wisdom to employ it. A special understanding of the devices of the old world, and a knack for recovering them. Now-"
"Storyteller!" There was a shout from the crowd.
"Ah! An offer already, and from one who knows me no less." Storyteller held his arm out to the crowd. "Would you come forward so that we may speak?"
A woman elbowed her away, shoving aside men twice her size. "Holy shit! I knew you were alive!"
"Pathfinder?" Storyteller stepped down from the stone. "What a blessing to find you! It's so good to see you again."
"Only you would be so calm in a situation like this." Pathfinder put a hand on Storyteller's arm and gave it a squeeze. "So you are real. After a few weeks chasing ghosts, it was getting hard to tell."
"I had heard that you were searching for me," said Storyteller.
"Everything from here to the edge of Conqueror's lands," said Pathfinder.
"Surprising," said Storyteller. "I'd think there were few willing to waste their time chasing a fool like me."
"Of course we did!" said Pathfinder. "Or at least I did. Those raiders grabbed two other men, and we found their bodies very quickly. The rest of the crew figured you were no better off and called off the search. I kept looking on my own, but all I found was a camp and a dead raider. What happened?"
"I ran into some trouble. It's a long story. But right now..." Storyteller gestured to Archivist, still sitting on the ground. "...right now, I'm trying to help someone I met in my travels."
Pathfinder took a step towards Archivist. "And who might you be?"
"Archivist, of Westhigh." She hopped to her feet, throwing out an awkward attempt at a salute. "...My home burned down."
"She has a remarkable range of abilities," said Storyteller. "Tinkering, bookbinding, an assortment of pre-disaster knowledge. Maybe there's someone in Nexus who could serve as her patron?"
"I'm keeping my distance from Nexus. Since I took off from the redemption crew, I'm not on great terms with them." Pathfinder looked Archivist over, her eyes landing on the backpack. "What do you have in the bag? If you have something you built that you can show the traders, that would be enough."
"Certainly not!" Archivist wrapped her arms back around the bag. "All that stuff burned up. These are storage discs for a computation machine. I had one working for a little bit."
"A computation machine?" said Pathfinder.
"A computer," said Storyteller.
"You had a working computer? Seriously?" Pathfinder crossed her arms and whistled. "Impressive. But if your old camp burned down, there's not much reason to carry that stuff. Outside of Scrapland, I can't think of any place that might have a salvageable computer."
"They have that kind of thing in Scrapland?" said Storyteller. "A complete machine? Are you positive?"
"If you want to believe the redeemers," said Pathfinder. "I've been to the edge of the ruin plenty of times, but I've never been inside. And those guys aren't necessarily reliable."
"Do you think you might escort me to Scrapland?" said Storyteller. "There are mysteries I have yet to solve, and the answers could be on these discs. If there is truly a computer there, then that might be the only place where I can find the answers."
"Are you crazy? The last time we went out there, you were kidnapped." Pathfinder shook her head. "I saw that stunt you pulled in Nexus, so I realize you're fearless, but I'm not going to let you get killed. Those raiders are getting too smart, and I can't promise that I'll spot them every time."
"This is very important." Storyteller scanned the square. "Perhaps I could travel with one of these groups? Surely there is one that is headed to Scrapland."
"That's where you'd be wrong," said Pathfinder. "These men are headed home, wherever that might be. Word is that a couple of active war parties were seen just south of here. Conqueror's men are on the march, and some of the redeemers claim that the man himself was with them. No one wants to be around here in case he's looking to expand his borders again. You need to turn around and head back west. Conqueror isn't interested in that area."
"But he can't do that," said Archivist. "Conqueror is after him because he broke out."
"That's no-" Pathfinder flinched and froze as she tried to process the absurdity that she had just heard. "He escaped from Pinnacle? That's not possible. No one's done that."
"One man has," said Storyteller. "I am a marked man, Pathfinder. I realize that the northern wastes are dangerous, but I am in far greater peril if I stay here."
Pathfinder stared off to the south, twisting her walking stick in her hands. "...Fine, I'll take you. We'll have to move quick and head for Scrapland. The raiders will have a harder time spotting two people."
"You mean three, right?" Archivist hopped up and down, trying to draw Pathfinder's attention. "Because I'm coming. I have nowhere else to go, and I have to see thing thing through."
"I can't take you," said Pathfinder.
"Why not?" Archivist ran in front of Pathfinder. "You're taking him. I've got the same motivation."
"But not the same endurance," said Pathfinder. "I can tell from here that you're no wanderer. Every day we're out in the wastes, we're at risk. I know that Storyteller can match my pace, but there's no way you can."
"You're not even going to give me a chance?" said Archivist. "Look, if I slow you down, just drop me off at the nearest settlement, and I'll wait like a good little girl. Okay?"
Pathfinder rubbed her face and sighed. "I don't know. Storyteller? You've been with her longer."
"As much as she's been through, I don't think it would be right to leave her behind," said Storyteller. "I will keep an eye on her. Consider her my responsibility."
Pathfinder gazed at Archivist. "You're willing to take that kind of risk?"
"Absolutely!" said Archivist. "I'll do whatever you say. I'm good at following orders, just ask Storyteller. Good little soldier, that's me."
"Fine," said Pathfinder. Get your things together. My camp is right outside of the settlement, we'll leave from there."
"Righteous! You won't regret this!" Archivist grabbed her bag and sprinted for the settlement gates.
"Wait a second! I haven't even told you...never mind." Pathfinder turned back to Storyteller. "Do you actually think she'll make it the whole way?"
"Probably not, but she has lost everything she ever knew. She gave me a glimpse into my past, and for that I owe her a debt."
"A glimpse into your past, huh?" Pathfinder chuckled under her breath. "Funny. You always seemed like you remembered better than any of us."
"Were that the past so clear," said Storyteller. "Lately, I've had some doubts. There are things that I thought I knew that now seem hazy, even alien."
Pathfinder tapped her finger on Storyteller's temple. "Then I take it you don't trust this anymore?"
"Oh, I still do. But only a fool trusts his mind fully." Storyteller rotated to the path leading out of the settlement. "The full story is a long one, but I suppose we'll have time on this trip. Perhaps I can explain it."
"I'm looking forward to it," said Pathfinder.