The road led on, seemingly extending for as long as the eye could see, giving no indication of stopping any time soon.

Vyra would have preferred that perhaps there had been some indicator, having been upon this path for what felt like days now.

Barely several hours in reality, the circumstances leading to this point, to her traversing through the forests that just barely sit among the outskirts of Hosenka on her were hardly those of what she had first anticipated. Meant to be an eventless couple of hours, the Demi-Human being afforded the finest sort of transportation towards the bustling city of the eastern part of Fiore, afforded what would be considered a genuine vacation, the first of her kind.

Quickly that idea was thrown awry at an unexpected snag in the road. Literally. A run-off of large rocks that had careened downwards upon the main road leading into Hosenka; not locking the city off from those looking to otherwise venture in or out, but at the minimum impeding caravan travel coming in from the south, a burden that was neither anticipated by either Vyra or the carriage-driver having been tasked to take the new Blue Pegasus Mage there.

Though persistent in looking to find a way around, to maneever through, it seemed a lost cause; little cause for effort being displayed upon by the driver, an overworked man whom despite being paid a handsome sum by Alisa to ensure that Vyra were to get to Hosenka safe and unharmed, was not interested enough to put either themselves or their carriage at risk trying to navigate through the more unkept wilds that littered the road on either side. With the only solution being that of turning around and seeking out a different route – an option that stood to take several days at minimum to achieve – or otherwise further the venture on foot, Vyra found herself left with an illusion of choices.

Now some several hours later, she found herself wishing that she could have reconsidered that ultimatum presented.

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It was not an inherently bad trip, nor one that she even found herself regretting doing entirely, but it was one by which seemed to go against the idea of this trip. If she were to relax, to have a chance to enjoy herself, then navigating through the rough wooded regions of the East admit the early weeks of the summer season were certainly not what she had in mind.

Though she had found herself wanting a chance to get out more, this was not her vision of it. To genuinely see the world, to not find herself as much forced to drag herself along a road due in part to someone else’s incompetence; for whatever delight that she may have wanted to take out of this venture, the nature and the atmosphere nothing to gawk at or otherwise turn a blind eye towards, it was still hard to separate the manner by which she arrived versus now.

Unable to do anything about what had happened, Vyra simply tried to appreciate what she could out of this trip. And even she could not deny that if Hosenka was anything close to as glorious as it was described by by Alisa and others who happened to hear about the plan for Vyra to spend a little bit of time there, it seemed to have been a sentiment that was mutually felt. That anticipation actually helped a great deal with the travel, making this venture speed through by comparison to what it perhaps otherwise could have been. Time still lingered, but the sense that each step made along the rough, hastily made route that came by way of often walked trails over generations, carried far greater weight. Progress towards a pampering that had been grossly overdue for what seemed like a lifetime’s worth of delay came closer and closer with every step.

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It was hard to say entirely for how long she had been walking now. Perhaps several hours? Time seemed to simply blur together as she continued along, there being little deviation in the area save for the occasional tree that had been felled and lay upon the ground. With the occasional obstacle aside, it was a fairly straight forward path, one that happened to have the Demi-Human wondering just what it was that left the carriage driver so adamant against traversing this way. She was certainly able to manage through it just fine, but upon such an obstacle seemed to bring to light perhaps a more reasonable reason why; though she could have gotten past a downed tree, what was to suggest that a horse, or even a horse-drawn carriage would have been able to?

To even attempt such a venture would have been impossible. The outcome all but certainly would have led to the exact same situation presented now, if not one that was even worse with how the carriage driver may have responded towards her. The minimal benefit present was the small sack of jewels which she carried on her person, the remainder of the fee to the trip that the man was not able to provide for; an unexpected but appreciated gesture.

It was foolhardy to believe such charity would have been extended had Vyra forced the man to try to navigate through this foliage carriage trap.

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Long, certainly. Boring, perhaps. An anticipation builder? Certainly. Vyra was all but ready to be done with all of this travelling when something broke her out of the mindless route that she had been walking.

A sound.

More specifically, the sound of fighting.

She had only heard glimpses of it, Hargeon being a largely safe place save for some moments of aggressive nature amongst the drunken kind and the guards, but these were few and far between. Even among the worst instances of fighting that she had heard within the port city, it did not seem to be anything like that of what she was listening to now. It radiated throughout the forest, the sounds of swords and other weapons clashing against armor and flesh alike, war cries and screams of agony flooding what had been a calm – if not tranquil – silence.

Torn, Vyra found herself not quite sure how best to approach. On one hand, she wanted nothing to do with the idea of engaging in combat. Her Magic, though something in which she felt like she had a loose grasp of control over, it still left her terrified at the idea that it would be something that would serve her no benefit, instead only putting her at greater risk. Within the battle field, no doubt she would have been no different than an innocent civilian in capability, but instead would be that of a combatant.

There were a time in Hargeon that she could have relied on being close to Alisa Vollan, or even more recently use her claim as a mage in Blue Pegasus for her protection, but she was nowhere near Hargeon anymore. Whatever respect and protections the Demi-Human may have had, she was far removed from there.

It should have been something that gave her as much pause as to simply just keep walking, to ignore what was going on and not worry about it. She seldom every had ventured out beyond Hargeon save for Marigold, the town which immediately bordered Hargeon in the southern parts of Fiore, but that hardly had given her a wide breadth into the nature of the world and the country as a whole. This violence, who was to say that it wasn’t something that was common? Telling it to herself, it hardly convinced her either, and though she knew it was wrong, for the brief moment in which she started towards where the sounds had originated from, the sound of a blood-curdling scream seemed to avert her desires entirely, prompting the Demi-Human to simply return along the original route.

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With a sense of guilt within her mind, she continued along, but for as much as the Demi-Human had begun to doubt herself as to whether the route were one that she should have taken or not, it became clear that it did not matter.

The road, barely a couple hundred meters from where she had had her mental deliberation, was blocked. A carriage of some sort, crushed by a pair of large trees that had been felled. A trap if she had ever seen one, but one that was effective, completely blocking out any hope of venturing through this way.

Effectively forcing her to go back and – with great reluctance – travel into the apparent battle field if she were to want to continue along towards Hosenka.

Sighing deeply, Vyra began back, with each step wishing less and less to have begun this trip. A break, a vacation, that was all she had wanted, and now it seemed like before it even began that it was throwing her into as close as possible towards the exact opposite.

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When she had finally finished backtracking and making her way towards the region, she realized that the damage had already seen the worst, the battle – as vicious as she could have only imagined it being – was one that was scarcely remaining. Bodies lay about in all directions, the two apparent sides being clearly enough identifiable by the garbs worn; some of them adorned in heavy armor, shades of crimson varying across those that lay upon the ground. While the rest were adorned in what could have only been described as robes, a deep purple in color and appearance.

Between them, the apparent soldiers, and just littered about the battle field were plenty of weapons and shields, a singular banner imprinted upon them.

Vyra gasped. The scene before her was not one that she could have envisioned at first. Worse even, the flooding of questions that came upon even the shortest of glances. What prompted this? Who were these people? Why did this happen? Could it have been prevented?

A part of her wished to weep, but the idea of sadness towards others had sadly become something lost to her. Only to those whom she cared for could she had shed tears at this point, too much having happened to rob her of the sense of pity and empathy for the world as a whole.

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A weapon. A small sword. It was not much, but it was something, something that she felt at least comfortable enough to wield lest one of those nearby try to strike upon her. She felt that there were not much chance of that, but that did not change her nervousness about it. All around her lay the bodies of either those dead or those dying, few of which she expected being willing to actually fight against her if prompted.

What she could tell at least from looking around the battle field were that aside from some of the obvious things including the two respectives sides fighting were the thing that they were fighting for.

A large crate.

Large enough and secured upon a small carriage to indicate that it had been something that was being transported. Judging by the dead horses and unarmored men that seemed to be amongst the dead, it similarly looked like they had gone the route that Vyra had at first hoped for, but rather than her carriage driver that had turned away from venturing into the forest, it seemed that this group had.

Thus, whatever was in this crate, it was hard to imagine that whatever it were was important enough for them to get to wherever it was going, bad roads or no roads be damned.

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Venturing towards the crate, she moved slowly towards it, closing her eyes as movement from any of the bodies that lay scattered about prompted her to response aggressively, swinging down the sword with reckless abandonment, not stopping until the immediate exhaustion overcame her and she opened her eyes again to see no further movement coming out of the body.

This must have been repeated several times, the last will of those still upon the battle field willing to attempt to stop her from reaching the crate, as foolhardy as it may have been.

Finally though, the bodies seemed to cease moving, the resistance that may have been able to be mustered no more.

All that was left was Vyra and the crate, heavy chains binding the lid in place, leaving no capability for one to simply take a peek lest risk the lid crushing whatever appendage may be beneath it. Yet, the Demi-Human found herself as much curious the longer her eyes rested upon it, curious of what it would have been that could have prompted and made it worth all of this carnage over.

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Her first attempts at opening the crate proved to bear no fruit, the lid simply remaining sealed while the chains, as much as she would have hoped to be able to move them, were securely fastened upon the top of the lid.

Truly, whatever was in there was not intended to be viewed upon save for whomever had the key.

The realization of a key led her to begin searching the bodies, hoping to maybe find something that on their persons that could unlock it, but after maybe an attempt or two of searching through a body, she realized that the pure scale of the battle field made this task one that she had little interest in further going about this.

Once the second body did not seem to provide any key for the crate, Vyra had to figure something else, but then the idea seemed to come to her. Taking the sword in hand, she began to swing wildly at one of the chains, hoping that the blade made contact with either the chain itself or the loop that held the chain in place. Though many of her swings went awry and simply glanced off or otherwise sent a reverb through her as it made contact with the crate itself, some did connect.

After only a small couple of strikes, the cracks began to show and after a short time, it further expanded before eventually shattering, loosening a chain, but being enough to where the lid could have been moved.

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Peering into the crate, Vyra could not see anything at first, it taking a bit of time before her eyes were as much able to adjust to the darkness within the crate. Upon the bottom of it lay something, a stick of some sort, perhaps a staff even, wrapped within a wild sheet or something.

It hardly looked impressive, certainly something that would merit this kind of violence. However though, that was so far beyond the concern of hers at this point. The sounds coming from the battle earlier, it was hard to imagine that she were not the only person who heard them, and that there were others having arrived left her worried.

Not looking to spend any further time here than what she had already been here for, she looked into the crate with some level of reluctance, but ultimately gave up on whatever hesitations she had and took the item with her. Holding it in her hand, she realized the staff was something that was a bit impressive, if nothing else than at least in terms of its craftsmanship. But weighing it against that of the dead littered about, she still was loathed to think worth it. The only sort of solace she could have taken was that she was not the one who killed them, but it did not do much as far as making her feel better.

She muttered some words, not quite a prayer, not quite a tribute, but something maybe to give her the illusion of respect towards the fallen. It was all that she found herself capable of doing, perhaps more than deserved even.

But it would be the last that she would have of this battle.

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