Raffin was the first traveler that Asdras and Brian met. His mannerisms were a fascinating blend of customs from distant lands, and he spoke with a cadence that seemed to mix languages as naturally as the winds whistled through the evergreen trees. He was a true nomad, well-versed in the basics of his trade: psychology, storytelling, geology, botany, and hunting.

As they journeyed along the pathway blanketed in pristine snow, the crunch of their footsteps accompanying them, Raffin's tales acted as a beacon, his voice weaving warmth through the chilly embrace of the air.

The horse, with frosted breaths in the frigid air, trudged onward, its hooves crunching the snowpack, while the wagon creaked like a tired old man settling into his favorite chair, seemingly attuned to its owner's stories. Its hooves left a faint trail in the snow, and fading away, the snowflakes hid their tracks, tailing the distances they had already covered.

Asdras listened intently, seeking to glean wisdom from Raffin's stories. His eyes, as keen as the sharpest blade, absorbed every detail and every nuance of his words.

Brian, on the other hand, was a bundle of pure enthusiasm. His eyes sparkled with each twist and turn of the narrative, his infectious energy fueling their journey. To him, Raffin's stories were like hidden treasures waiting to be discovered, each one a thrilling adventure waiting to unfold.

And the spark of their excitement happened when Asdras asked him what it was like to be a deliverer.

He gave him a thoughtful look. "Have you ever known a hunter?"

"I've heard rumors," Asdras said, shaking his head. "The ones about their missions, fighting beasts, and so on."

Raffin made a dismissive gesture. "Nah, kid. I'm talking about the real deal. Not the poor ones who work their way back and forth across the face of death, trying to keep fresh their earnings."

"What's the differ'nce, then?" Brian angled his head as he scratched his arms.

"Scale!"

"Scale?"

"Beasts, eh? Some so massive they make these trees look like twigs," Raffin said as he stretched his arms wide as if to embrace the road itself. "Dangerous places that could kill you just for breathing. Strange encounters that you would rather end yourself for the sake of peace. This is what the real hunter faces."

Raffin paused for a moment, studying their whisperings. "But the real battle is that the more you see, the more you hear as a hunter, the more you want to leave. At least, that was what my cousin told me."

"Your cousin is a hunter?"

"No," Raffin chuckled. "But he swore to me that what a hunter is. In truth, in this region, it is very difficult to spot one. You can watch as many winters and falls as you could count in your hands, and yet, not see a hunter."

"Why?" Brian asked while he took an apple from a nearby basket.

"This here region," Raffin paused, letting the wind's howl underscore his point. "Is as tame as a summer garden."

"Safe?" Asdras voice carried a hint of doubt. "Even with those beasts lurking in the forests?"

"Ah," Raffin smiled. "No offense, but if even you guys can fight one or two, then what's the use of a hunter here? True, this region could have some ranked beasts, but none that would make it worth for someone risk their life for a reward. And even if it were ranked two, I have faith I could deal against it."

"In which goes back to your question," he took a deep breath. "Deliverers, my boy, are hunters of a softer world — our beasts are the elements, our quests are the roads more traveled, and if we're lucky, we grow old with tales taller than the trees.. It sounds good for me, and that's why I'm here."

This small prompt was all the excuse Brian needed to ask. "And what about the awakening? You've been through it, ain't ya?"

"Well, like hunters and deliverers," Raffin shrugged. "Awakening isn't as glamorous as you may think. It has its magic, I know, but the deeper you go, the less likely you are to even get married."

"And how is it?" Asdras asked mindfully as he took another apple. "I mean, to be awake."

"No tales for that, boy. There is a good will to not tell anyone who will undergo the awakening about the process."

Raffin gave a tired smile as he continued. "Think like this; do you like milk?"

"Milk? Maybe."

"Gosh, I reckon I just love me some warm, fresh milk!"

"Then, if I offer you one cup and tell you that the taste will be so sour that even a piece of bitter melon would be better. It will still taste the same?"

"Hmmm." Asdras nodded to himself. "So, you're telling us that by talking about your experience, it will make our own experience worse?"

"Yes," Raffin began, but he paused and then corrected himself. "Well, actually, it could go either way. See, the thing about awakening is that it's all about how you view yourself and the world 'round you. So, if I start speaking on about my own vision, you might end up spending more time searching for the things I mentioned instead of discoverin' your own. Do you get it?"

"I guess!"

"And what 'bout yer own power?"

"You've got an appetite for questions as insatiable as a wolf for the hunt," Raffin teased, his gaze meeting the stars with a shared wanderlust. "Well... Isn't nothing special, since I never advanced realm, so my power is from the dark element, night vision."

"Well, that's somethin'! How's it feel seein' in the dark, then?"

"As clear as day, in fact, even better, and it makes the night more welcoming," Raffin said as he directed his horse to a corner.

"And what about advancing realm?"

"Nay, the night is upon us, and my stomach yearns for sustenance," Raffin said tiredly. "So, for another day, boys. Other days."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the last tendrils of light clung to the sky, casting a purplish hue over the snow, the kind of color that whispered of the day’s end and the secrets of the night ahead, they began to set up their temporary camp beneath the trees that lined the roadside.

From the wagon, they unearthed the tools of shelter: canvas, weathered and stiff from the cold; wooden poles that carried the scent of resin; and ropes that felt like coiled snakes, frozen and heavy.

They worked together with a sense of purpose, the canvas billowing in the breeze as they secured it to the poles and staked it into the ground. Their tent soon stood proudly, a sanctuary worth every traveler's worship.

Meanwhile, Asdras took charge of building the bonfire. He gathered dry twigs, brittle leaves, and small branches, carefully arranging them into a tepee-like structure.

With a practiced hand, he struck flint and steel together, coaxing forth sparks that soon ignited the kindling. Flames danced to life, casting a pale and flickering light that painted the surroundings with an otherworldly glow.

As the night deepened, the trio huddled around the fire, its warmth a comforting contrast to the chilly night. Shadows stretched and danced on the fabric of their tent, and the forest seemed to come alive with the soft sounds of creatures of the night. The smoke from the bonfire curled and twirled in the air, like wisps of ancient spirits seeking stories in the stars.

"Boys, I think we need something..."

"Check the surroundings?"

"More tales, ya?

Raffin, swaying slightly, gestured toward the bonfire. "We best get some food in us, lads. This area's pretty safe, 'cause they've got some fancy protection under the main roads. But, stories ain't gonna fill our bellies, alas. We need some real sustenance, some meat, and I don't have any of that in my wagon, so..."

He stretched his arms before grinning at the boys. "If you guys manage to catch some meat for us, I'll tell a story later."

"And," he added before they could reply. "If you guys manage to catch some rabbits, I'll share a secret about Joe. Sounds like a fair deal, don't it?"

"Oh, that's gonna be interesting! C'mon, friend," Brian said, shifting his head to face Asdras. "Let's find out who snags one first!"

"Why rabbits?"

"The right herbs, my lad, the right herbs," Raffin gulped as he remembered the taste. "Rosemary. Bay Leaves. Use 'em right, and you'll remember that flavor for a lifetime!"

Amidst the growing darkness, Asdras and Brian ran toward the nearby area, their spirits fueled by the challenge of securing dinner. One had a primary focus on winning, whereas the other was interested in the stories and the secret.

Asdras slinked through the underbrush, his senses alert for any signs of life. His breath slowed as he sought out the faintest rustle and the subtlest scent of prey. The forest seemed to be holding its breath as he moved stealthily.

Meanwhile, Brian, displaying the patience of a seasoned hunter, scanned the surroundings for potential game. His eyes were sharp as he examined the forest floor for tracks, and his ears were attuned to the slightest sound that could reveal their quarry.

Out of the corner of his eye, Brian caught a sudden movement. His pulse raced as he spotted a rabbit, its brown fur contrasting sharply against the snow-draped forest. In a flash, he darted after it, spear held high, every muscle primed for the chase.

As Brian pursued the elusive animal, Asdras sensed a different kind of movement nearby. His keen instincts led him to a successful ambush, and with a swift, practiced motion, he caught a rabbit of his own. Triumph swelled within him as he held the small game aloft.

But his victory was short-lived as Brian's voice pierced the forest silence from the left. He swiftly turned and ran toward the sound, concern etching his features.

There, in a small clearing, Brian stood, pointing at a fallen man on the ground. The middle-aged merchant, with an exotic air about him, sported a proud mustache and donned distinctive seller attire that hinted at a far-off culture.

With shared urgency, Asdras and Brian rushed to the man's side. Asdras cradled the rabbit in one hand while helping lift the fallen merchant onto their shoulders. Together, they carried him back to their campsite, a mixture of anxiety and curiosity gripping their hearts.

As they neared the tent, Raffin's excitement at the sight of the rabbit quickly shifted to concern as he observed the unconscious stranger they brought with them. His brows furrowed as he knelt to examine the merchant's condition.

"Who?"

"I dunno," Brian replied as he helped Asdras put the man closer to the fire. "Found him while I was chasin' a rabbit. Is he alive?"

"Should be," Raffin said as he examined the body. "Still breathing, and his temperature is normal."

"He looks like a merchant," Asdras said, pointing at the man's clothes. "I've see something like this in the city."

"A merchant, it is," Raffin replied matter-of-factly. "Well done, kids. You've got yerselves a proper tale now, one to spin in the taverns. Rescuing a merchant and hitting the jackpot."

"Now, more importantly," Raffin examined the fat bunny. "Right now, I care more about it than some unfortunate man. Before a candle burns to its holder, this here beauty'll be our finest company for the night."

With a practiced hand, Raffin set to work preparing the rabbit they had caught earlier. He carefully seasoned it with fragrant herbs, their aromas mingling in the evening air. His knife sliced through the meat effortlessly, skillfully portioning it into manageable pieces.

Nearby, the stewpot awaited its contents, perched over the campfire, bubbling and simmering in anticipation in the same rhythm as Raffin.

As the savory scent wafted around the camp, Asdras and Brian could hardly contain their hunger. Their stomachs rumbled in unison, but their concern for the unconscious man by their side tempered their appetite.

In the dying light of the campfire, the tantalizing aroma of the finished dish filled the air. It was at that moment, as the bubbling stewpot held its savory secret, that a subtle shift in the atmosphere called their attention.

The unconscious man stirred, his senses awakening to the irresistible scent that promised a hearty meal. "Meat? Rabbit? Rabbit with rosemary and potatoes? By the by, is this heaven?"