The Journey Ahead （Part 3）
That night, while the others slept, Gareth sat awake by the fire, eyeing the pale elf that sat under a tree, leaning against its trunk. Silverfox was quiet, staring down at the flames, his wide silver eyes reflecting the firelight, and his mouth turned down in a cold frown.
He appeared to be lost in thought.
Or scheming.
Either way, Gareth would not close his eyes knowing this suspicious rogue was still awake.
He yawned and added another log to the fire, pausing when he realized the pile was getting dangerously low.
He glanced warily into the darkness, then back at the elf, whose eyes darted away the second their eyes met.
He stared back at the flames, unmoving, the same cold expression on his face as before, as if he had never moved at all.
Gareth's lip curled, and he snickered. "Something on your mind, fox?"
Silverfox did not bother to look up. "If I had something to share, I would not waste my words on you. But your mind never seems to rest, does it? I can see your nerves from here."
"You do not fool me." Gareth growled, "Whatever you are planning, I would think twice—unless you are eager to part with your head."
Silverfox smirked, seeming unfazed as he retorted, "Do I unsettle you? Truly, there is no need for threats. If I was here for blood, you would have been the first one choking on it."
"That is bold talk coming from someone who fell unconscious in the middle of a fight."
"From what I have been told, you were little more than a smear on the floor, yourself. So much for the stories... As it turns out, you are just as breakable as any other."
Gareth hesitated, searching the elf's unreadable expression. "What is it you think you know about me?"
"Nothing of consequence, I am sure. Just that you are... infamous in Etheria—or rather, the Greater Empire now."
Gareth raised a brow, unable to resist flashing a cocky smirk. "You are referring to Rumlok the Gladiator, I assume."
Silverfox's eyes narrowed and his voice became low and venomous "I am referring to the bastard son of Varek Aelthros."
Gareth's heart wrenched and he froze as horror tore through him, disintegrating his bravado in a split second. His mouth hung open but his voice was lost. He clenched his fists and stared wide-eyed at the elf, who was watching his reaction with a gleam in his eye and a smirk on his lips.
Silverfox continued, his voice smooth but sharp, "As I heard, the Supreme Governor has all but declared you the real champion of the Empire—though only behind closed doors, of course.
He attributes his triumphs to your more...
unsavory talents. I wonder, Gareth—how many nobles did you gut for him?
How many families were devastated so the Governor's schemes could succeed?
Did you even try to blackmail them into compliance first, or did you just skip to the bloody part and kill their wives and children?
I ask out of professional admiration, of course.
Even I was impressed by the stories. Not to mention all that you were able to accomplish.
It is not easy to turn an entire kingdom against their own king. "
Gareth tried to explain. "You do not know anything. I did not want to be a part of those atrocities—"
Silverfox cut him off. "But you were. You were there when they happened. You were the one who broke down the door. You held them still while they were tortured."
A wave of dread swept over Gareth, tightening in his chest as he glanced down at Rowena, grateful to see her still sound asleep. His hands trembled as he fought back waves of memories and regrets.
There was nothing he could say.
He could not change the past any more than he could run from it.
Gareth's eyes burned with fury as he sat before the fire, wrestling with his thoughts and glaring at the elf beneath the tree.
Silverfox whispered, mockingly. "Is something the matter? Do your friends not know who you really are? Even the girl?" He clicked his tongue, "Your feelings for her are obvious, though I doubt they would be reciprocated if she knew the truth."
"She will never find out if you no longer have a tongue to wag." Gareth seethed, shooting to his feet and grasping the handle of his sword.
Silverfox remained still, barely seeming interested. "Please. I do not care about your secrets. I just wanted to watch you squirm. Your panic is far more amusing than watching the fire."
"How do you know all these things? Who are you really?" Gareth demanded, lowering his voice when he noticed the volume of his sharp tone.
"Unlike you, I did not lie about who I am.
I am a mercenary, and a damn good one. Which is the reason I know what I know.
I do my investigation and dig into my quarry because I like to make sure there are no surprises.
That is why I no longer chase contracts—clients come looking for me, by name.
This time, it was the Empire that came calling.
As it happens, Varek Aelthros very much wishes to be reunited with his long-lost son.
He has offered a handsome reward for your return.
Your safe return— which is unfortunate for those who seek to find you, since dragging a corpse is always easier than hauling a prisoner.
But against all odds, he does not wish to see you dead.
Even after you betrayed him before the coup.
It is shocking, considering the nature of your disagreement and what he did to you after your little... outburst."
Silverfox gestured to his own shoulder, tracing a line across his chest, hinting at Gareth's ragged scar just visible from under his shirt.
"I cannot imagine why he is still willing to claim you.
Perhaps the love of a father can be genuine after all...
Or not. Either way, there are probably many others out there still searching for you. "
"So that is what brought you to the swamp? You were searching for me?"
"Not directly. I tried to search for you years ago, but even I could not figure out where you were hiding. I was actually busy on another, unrelated job when I ended up in that prison in the swamp. I was never expecting to stumble upon you, of all people. I suppose you could call it blind luck."
Gareth sneered skeptically, "Luck? Is that what it was?"
Silverfox smirked, "Of course."
"You can wipe that smile off your face. I would sooner die than be claimed by that monster. I will not be returning to Etheria, dead or otherwise." Gareth said defiantly.
Silverfox rolled his eyes, "There is no point in getting so worked up. I have no interest in taking you back, nor do I have the means to do it, even if I did want to."
"Then why are you still here? Do you not have another job to do?"
Silverfox shrugged, "I told you. My interest is in gold. The girl has made me a better offer. As soon as your people are in Tide Gate and I am paid, I will be out of your hair. It will be as if this encounter never happened."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I suppose you will just have to trust me." Silverfox replied, pulling his cowl over his head, crossing his arms, and leaning back against the tree as if he was about to go to sleep.
Gareth scoffed, "Trust a treacherous snake to keep his word? Not likely."
Closing his eyes, Silverfox muttered, "I do not believe I am the only treacherous snake in this camp tonight."
Gareth lingered by the fire long after the embers disintegrated into hot ash. He felt swallowed in the shadows around him, and every creak of the forest seemed to whisper accusations.
He could not sleep, nor was he tired, as his mind churned with memories he could not suppress.
He felt sick as his stomach twisted in knots.
It all came flooding back to him in the dark.
All the things he had buried away after years alone in the mountains.
He could not stop himself from seeing the faces of his past. The eyes of those who had pleaded for their lives. The eyes that had been filled with terror and shocked by betrayal. They all rose uninvited in the darkness within the shadows.
He could see the stains on his hands.
And he felt the weight of each unforgivable deed.
And Silverfox's words echoed in his mind.
He was a treacherous snake.
Gareth could not deny it.
And the truth felt like poison.
He clenched his fists and his heart pounded in his chest. He was terrified that at any moment the others would awaken and see him for what he really was. His secrets felt like the ash at his feet, ready to scatter at the slightest breeze or touch.
How much longer did he have until the truth was uncovered?
Would the elf hold his tongue?
He stared at the dark ashes until sunrise, hoping helplessly, desperately that he would be able to deliver the boy and Rowena to the prince soon, so that he might disappear.
The haunting memories of his past were already too much to bear.
If he saw the horror of his own past reflected in the others' eyes, he knew it would break him.
But the thought of Rowena...
Her gaze turning cold again...
Her trust evaporating...
Her recognizing him, not as her protector, but as the monster he truly was...
The one who took everything from her...
That was more terrifying and more suffocating than any punishment he could imagine.