Chapter 4

The sunset gave workers erecting stalls in the village square a last bit of sunlight to complete preparations for the Founder's Day Festival. Only the word “festival” was accurate, though, since it lasted three days, not one day. Additionally, the festival's days didn't correspond to any significant event related to the founding of The Conqueror's Empire. Initially, the festival had celebrated the start of the convoy season. Mostly local residents and workers from the season's first convoy attended the small-scale event. However, the festival steadily grew and was pushed back to the week before the first convoy. Eventually, it grew large enough to draw the Crossroads' attention, and it was co-opted to become another celebration of the empire.

The festival became the largest in the southern Lush Forest. Merchants, lords, and peasants wealthy enough to travel came from all over the southern and western regions. Minor lords and traders rented every room in the Traitor's Tavern Inn. Two convoy staging areas housed four warehouse-sized tents where peasants slept on the ground for a nominal fee. The other four convoy staging areas became sprawling tent cities for major lords and traders who brought throngs of servants and employees to see the festivities.

Karp and The Whitecoat supervised the final preparations from a veranda on the Traitor's Tavern Inn.

˝do you think a lot of people are going to come this year?”

˝I don't know. A lot of people are scared.”

Indeed, tensions hung heavy over preparations this year. The strange aging sickness first discovered at the Village of the Bog Djinn had spread. Famous shifters in areas surrounding the swamp had been found as dried husks lying stripped of all valuables.

˝Do you still think that man is involved?”

˝i don't know, but i'm sure shifting is involved, and the disease has been spreading.”

˝Why does it have to be shifting, though?”

˝well, they were all found naked, right? that means they were robbed after death. no one just walks around in their armor; shifters will leave their armor in the shift world if they are safe and shift into armor for a fight. something must have scared them enough to think they needed protection.”

The Whitecoat searched for a serving girl, made eye contact, and raised two fingers. The young woman scurried away, and The Whitecoat brought his attention back to Karp.

˝How long has it been? Since you saw that guy.”

˝about sixteen months. i've only been back a few times, but haven't seen him since.”

˝I think you might be right about them shifting and putting on armor before they died, but I'm also pretty sure you're wrong about this Wili guy.”

A serving girl brought another round of drinks to Karp and The Whitecoat as they “supervised” the final preparations. The serving girl handed The Whitecoat a tankard and winked. He blushed and turned toward the workers, now leaving the square. Karp smirked before sipping from her mug.

˝Let's go inside. And Karp... Keep your ideas to yourself, or you might scare off more people.” 

Karp nodded. They entered the tavern and moved to the table that Karp, Nort, and Slart usually shared. The inn was typically full of local merchants, farmers, and workers from The Whitecoat's compound. During the festival, though, Karp couldn't find anyone she recognized. She heard the familiar thud of the throwing board and glanced to watch the competitors. Two men wearing unblemished tailored leather threw medium-sized steel daggers at pictures of apples. Those two would have been the perfect marks in the days before Karp lived in the Village of the Traitor's Tavern. They clearly wouldn't miss a few iron coins. Chances were they had never even worked a day in their lives. The one on the right was competitive and boisterous but also unskilled. He'd likely never accept that a clumsy, ditzy young woman could beat him. 

˝No, Karp.”

Karp chuckled.

˝i was just thinking of the good old days.”

˝'Good old days?' You mean the days where you were starving, running from village to village? The days that ultimately led to your bleeding to death on the floor of my store? Those 'good old days?’”

"it had its good parts too. if i wasn't bleeding to death on your floor, then i never would have met nort or slart. ah, or you either.”

The Whitecoat wasn't most impressed by Karp's adaptability, fighting prowess, or intelligence. He loved the simplicity of how she lived and wanted to live. Every month, The Whitecoat rejected shifters of all ages who showed up at his door requesting to become his apprentice, with dreams of becoming the next merchant baron. Karp just wanted to learn and spend her time with those she loved. Korg felt a pang of guilt, knowing the world was a cruel place and that one day, Karp’s dream might be shattered.

˝How is Nort?”

˝he's good. really calmed down since the incident.”

˝After that happened, Slart came pleading to me, asking if I could stop training Nort.”

˝i remember that.”

˝Yeah, the way Slart tells it, you almost died.”

˝it wasn't that bad...”

˝Must have been bad enough. I think the whole thing really opened his eyes. Not just seeing you there...again, but also his mom's reaction. As strange as it sounds, I think he felt a little guilty afterward.” 

˝guilty?”

˝He's always been a...sensitive boy, and I don't think he fully understood the emotional impact that his being a shifter would have on his mom. I think seeing her crying made him understand why she objected. He felt guilty for pushing the issue so much.” 

˝it might be too late for him anyway. he may have another year at the most, but if he doesn't shift soon, he's not a shifter.”