Part One : Ghorana
You will learn things about me that you'll wish you'd never known.
You will find things I've made that you'll wish you'd never seen.
- Parable of Regret, Unknown
~~~
Hekate Albedo was many things.
He was a warrior, a proven martial expert and tested master of a dozen disciplines.
He was a protector, having bared his blade in the defense of the populace with no shortage of scars and trophies to show for it.
Hekate Albedo was not a traveler.
He hated every facet of the cursed hobby, and lamented every time he was made to trek any distance longer than a leisurely stroll. He'd often get homesick, and was known to become irritable towards his traveling companions when away from his hometown of Bastly for more than a few days.
That said, Albedo traveled extensively, more than most could ever, even if given a dozen lifetimes. Not because he wanted to see the sights, or because of an inherent curiosity of the unknown or incurable wanderlust.
Albedo travelled as often as he did and as far as he did because of another man, one called Marcus Hekate.
Albedo met Marcus when he was a budding young sellsword. He'd been working as a part of the security detail in service of the mayor of Bastly when Marcus, far removed from any familiar territory and utterly lost, wandered into the small town in search of lodging.
Marcus convinced Bastly's mayor that he was a world renowned cartographer, having explored and mapped some of the world's more feral and primal land and published journals detailing his expeditions. Falling for his ruse, the mayor accommodated Marcus the best he could. One of his gestures of goodwill was assigning Albedo to be Marcus's "retainer", a glorified term that the mayor used to mask Albedo's real responsibility: being Marcus's personal servant until he left the town.
Marcus spent the better part of three months in Bastly pretending to be a cartographer, and the entire time, Albedo was at his beck and call, though it was a service Marcus used sparingly, preferring to be left alone. Eventually, Marcus would begin to legitimately pursue cartography, and used the town as a base of operations while he charted his first maps and filled out his first journals. A chance encounter with a knife-wielding rogue in the dark of the night lead to Albedo saving Marcus's life, and for months after, Marcus would personally contract Albedo to serve as a "researcher's aide" during his journeys into uncharted earth.
A few months of contracted work turned into a few more months, which turned into a year, which became a decade-long partnership. Eventually, Albedo stopped accepting payment for his work altogether, developing an undying loyalty to Marcus and even becoming somewhat tolerant to travel as a whole, even if only for Marcus's sake.
Even still, Hekate Albedo was not a traveler.
So, when a cryptic and somewhat-ominous letter from Marcus told him that he'd gone off on the adventure of a lifetime— the "big one" that would finally answer all of his life's questions— and instructed Albedo to board the next ship to the port city of Ghorana and trek north, past the Far Reach Forest that Albedo didn't believe actually existed until the vast mountains of Far Reach's northern border stopped him from going any further, all because Marcus had landed himself in a "minor" predicament and needed help out of it— and all without Marcus to make the trip bearable for him— Albedo was somewhat displeased.
Marcus had been away for a long time, but it wasn't particularly uncommon for him to disappear for months at a time without even a letter, so Albedo initially thought nothing of his absence. He was fully prepared to do nothing about Marcus's disappearance, justifiably expecting him to return as though he never left by the time the leaves changed color.
But, because Marcus called for him, and only because Marcus called for him, Albedo made for Ghorana.
While serving his best friend as a bodyguard while he chases fairy tales and maps uncharted lands wasn't the most lucrative occupation, Albedo had enough spending money to afford passage on a traveling merchant ship.
The oceans of the world of Vatuur, especially around the greater nation of Darka where Bastly and Ghorana lie, are tame. The seaborne monsters that lurk the oceanic deep don't wander near the coastline, and the waves remain tame throughout the seasons. However, tame waves will still rock a boat, even if only slightly.
Hekate Albedo had slain monsters the size of small houses, felled beasts strong enough to topple city walls, and suffered enough cuts and broken enough bones to kill any lesser person. The one hour-long voyage from Bastly to Ghorana thoroughly convinced the grizzled veteran that the seasickness born of this boat-rocking would be what finally cuts him down.
As Albedo leaned queasily against the upper-deck's railings, he read over Marcus's short letter to himself:
My dearest friend,
I find myself in a minor predicament that only I could've landed in, and require aid that only you could lend me. Sail for Ghorana, leave the country north into Chorus City, continue through the plains through Aurora, trek through the Glades of the Orchid Chorus, and brave the canopies of Far Reach Forest. There, where the mountains stop you from going any further, you will find me.
Yours always,
M. H.
Albedo sighed and folded the letter again, sliding it back into the satchel strapped around his shoulder.
"First time on a boat, stranger?"
An unfamiliar voice spoke from behind Albedo.
"Not one for the ocean, then?"
With a groan, Albedo willed his seasick body up and off the railing, and sluggardly raised his head until his eyes met with the voice's. Before him stood an older man of humble stature that wore a damp velvet coat that hung on his shoulders while his hands rested in the pockets of tattered pants. A weathered and worn captain's hat covered his balding head.
"No..." replied Albedo. "No, s'pose not." Try though he may, he could not fight back his body's cries for help. With a wretch, Albedo turned and doubled over the ship's railing, alleviating his nausea into the shining waters.
The stranger chuckled and scratched his chin. "Then why sail at all?"
Albedo weakly turned back to the man. "I was told to." His knees proved too weak to support his weight, and he slumped against the railings.
"That right?" The man raised an eyebrow and stepped closer to Albedo's frail form, and leaned a mite closer to him. "You just do what others tell you, then? No question?"
Albedo raised his head to look up at the man, and, pushing himself back onto his knees, said, "For certain people, certain people would do anything." He quickly stood up and gathered himself as best he could, though his unkempt hair and the dark circles around his eyes betrayed him.
The man took his hat off to scratch the top of his head, and laughed. "Yes..." he said as he put his hat back on, "...yes, I suppose they would."
Albedo trudged past the man, dragging his feet with every uneasy step. "You'll call out when we reach port, yeah?"
"Aye," replied the stranger, glancing over his shoulder. "Shouldn't be more than an hour's time."
Albedo nodded, and lumbered into the bowels of the ship.
The crew hold of the merchant brigantine was hardly a retreat from the main deck's fresh air. Foul odors permeating from the various exotic goods being hauled across the sea and the poorly-paid deckhands hired off the streets for little more than goodwill wafted and lingered through every room, a harsh assault on the senses of any person and one that seemed to worsen with time. However, Albedo had found that his seasickness somewhat subsided as he descended further into the ship, and he was willing to withstand any number of strange smells if it meant any amount of relief.
Having paid very little for passage aboard a ship that already struggled to adequately accommodate its existing passengers, Albedo's quarters were limited to a loose bedroll that had been sprawled across the ground in the far end of the crew hold.
The rest of the crew hold was virtually empty. Albedo was alone, save another lone traveler that wore a cloak that covered their entire body, complete with a hood that obscured their entire face. Albedo wrote it off as another vagrant that paid the captain for passage. The traveler sat alone and quiet in the corner farthest from Albedo's setup, so he paid them no mind.
Content, but hardly comfortable, he laid down to rest on the damp bedroll, and closed his eyes. He had no hope of actually getting any sleep, but he figured that if he could convince his mind that his body was unconscious, he'd lose track of time and be on dry land even sooner.
The constant creaking and moaning of the ship's hull as it was battered and abused by the ocean were Albedo's lullaby. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to ignore the faint squabbles and arguments from the top deck, but every time he came close to falling asleep, the captain would bark another order or another sailor would have a near-death experience, and he'd have to start all over again.
Between shouts and hollers and exceptionally rough waves, Albedo was afforded time to allow his mind to wander, and these moments, however scarce and finite, were somewhat therapeutic for Albedo; the mental eye of his inner and outer storm.
During these times of true respite though sleep remained out of his reach, Albedo thought of home, of Bastly.
Bastly was a humble town, but one Hekate Albedo loved very much. He thought of the coarse cobblestone paths that winded and snaked between buildings; he thought of the chattering merchants in the market square, that came from different lands and spoke different languages but all understood gold; he thought of his small but sturdy home, of the night birds that sang him to sleep, and the single pink orchid that sat on his windowsill.
Thinking of home, however far it was and however farther it became, was usually enough to keep Albedo grounded, to slow down his errant mind when the world, and how truly big it was, became too much for him.
Even then, he could not sleep, and the groaning wooden boards that separated him from the abyss became his only friends.