Kre tried to ask more, but he never got past drawing a breath and giving a questioning look before Kersath waved him off with that look of his. The topic clearly weighed heavily on the mind of every member of the company and though curiosity burned in his heart, he knew better than to push the topic considering that the lives of two of their comrades were in grave jeopardy.
‘Rakshasa. Shapeshifters,’ he thought to himself. It was the thing he had left to do since he couldn’t’ speak aloud and since he had to keep himself for the watch. ‘Things of legend and nighttime stories… no one back home would believe the things that have happened even up to this point, let alone the fact that I’m about to go and fight demonic creatures capable of changing their shape to suit their murderous needs.’
Images of each of his hometown friends flashed in his mind’s eye. Some of their features were a bit blurred at the edges and he wondered if this was just exhaustion settling in or if he was truly forgetting things about the people that he grew up with. Both were unsettling, but the latter was far more so.
Still, as he thought about Syonette, he felt that she would likely believe his fantastical story. She’d been to other regions and probably heard stories more far-fetched than his own would seem. She was always one to really listen, as well, so he knew that even if she found it all hard to believe, she’d at least hear him out.
Jem too, would believe him. At least, he hoped she would. Sometimes it was hard to tell with her. She’d certainly let him tell everything, but it wasn’t easy to tell what she actually heard as she let her mind wander sometimes. Usually, it wandered towards music and Kre smiled as he envisioned Jem putting his story to a tune like the epic sagas that visiting bards sometimes played.
‘Noj wouldn’t believe me,’ Kre chuckled to himself, earning a sharp look from Kersath for daring to make too much noise. ‘If it seems awesome but didn’t happen to Noj personally, he wouldn’t think it was real.’ Whether that was because Noj only thought that the truly great and heroic stories could be his and no one elses, or if he was just cynical about others when it came to hard to believe stories… that was always the eternal question with Noj. Kre admired the older boy and his natural skill with just about everything he played a hand at, but sometimes that ego was just too much to handle.
‘…and Landar…’ Well, Landar might believe it, but he’d also have a story to top it. Whether that more impressive story was real or not was always the debate, but there it was. It was never done maliciously or with the same ego that Noj had, which was the scholar’s saving grace. Instead, Kre felt that Landar did it just to keep the conversation and friendship going at an even level, without either side having to feel bad about the successes or failures of the other.
A light touch on his shoulder brought him back to the here and now. “Eat this and then get some rest. Talimar will likely have us ride hard tomorrow until we reach the road.” A small block of something brown sat in the dark Ylveryan’s hand. Knowing he’d receive no answer, Kre simply took the small bit of what he assumed was food and popped it into this mouth.