The Forgotten Kingdom

Chapter 2

    Desmond had imagined working the forge alongside his sister, the sparks flying off metal being shaped into whatever tool was needed, the heat burning his skin, the weight of the hammer in his hand. All of it seemed at least somewhat appealing – but none of it was what he would actually be doing. His father had told him Gilford needed someone to transport the tools, but Desmond didn’t realize that meant hauling heavy crates full of tools to the edge of town. Apparently, Gilford’s mule had died last week, and no one else in town had one. He now understood why he was needed for the day; he was only just reaching the gate after an hour’s work.

    He stopped a few yards from the gate, sat on the box, and dropped the rope attached to it as he caught his breath, awaiting someone to open the gate for him. He was pleasantly surprised when he saw the man coming out of the guardhouse was his friend, Argent.

    Desmond met Argent when they were six and seven, respectively. Desmond had been playing alone in town when a stray dog started creeping up on him without him noticing. It was close to pouncing, when Argent appeared out of nowhere with a bucket lid and a large stick and scared the dog off. They’d been best friends ever since.

    “Morning, Desmond,” he said with a charming, bright smile. Desmond never understood how Argent never seemed to stop smiling.

    “G’morning, Argent, can you open the gate. I have two more of these things to take to the camp.”

    “Camp?” Argent’s icy-blue eyes clouded with confusion as he reached beneath the leather cap that constituted a helmet in Cynder, revealing a few strands of his pale blond hair.

    “Yeah, the one for the men who’re going to clear the forest?” Argent stared at Desmond without response. “For the expansion.” Desmond stood up and stretched, getting ready to return to his hauling duties.

    “Oh, that’s right they came through the gate a little while ago,” Argent said, grabbing the rope and propping it on his shoulder.

    “What are you doing?”

    “Helping you, of course. You look like you’re about to keel over.” Argent started dragging the crate towards the gate.

    “You don’t have to do that,” Desmond said as he followed Argent, not really upset that at least some of his burden was being shouldered by someone else.

    “I know, but I want to.” Argent retrieved a key from a satchel on his hip and unlocked the gate, “You know, technically I’m supposed to check that crate for contraband.”

    “So why aren’t you?”

    Argent turned to smile at Desmond, that same sparkle in his eyes that reminded Desmond of freshly-fallen snow. “I trust you.” Desmond cleared his throat, retrieving the rope from his friend.

    “Thank you for helping me,” Desmond said, avoiding Argent’s gaze, “and for opening the gate.”

    There was an awkward pause as neither moved, broken by Desmond finally looking at Argent.

    “And the trust,” he almost whispered, “I’ll see you when I get back from the camp.”

    “See you when you return.”

    With that, Desmond started lugging the heavy box down the dirt road that led from Cynder to the river that served as the border between Ignis, the kingdom Cynder belonged to, and the Eternal Forest. A vast ocean of trees in the center of the six kingdoms that was filled with ruthless bandits, monstrous creatures, and untold horrors. The river is said to be the only thing keeping back the more vicious elements of the forest, a gift from the Mare family to the rest of the kingdoms.

    At least, that’s what all the legends say. Even if the stories about monsters weren’t true, the bandits certainly were. That was the whole reason Cynder had walls in the first place.

    Walls that needed guards.

    Guards like Argent.

    He’d decided to become a guard because when he was a child, his father had been killed by bandits. Remembering that fact brought Desmond back to his surroundings, hauling a much-too-heavy crate down a wooded path with no protection. By this point the gate was out of sight, and the path was getting less clear. He dropped the rope for a moment to pull out the crude map that Gilford had drawn him to show him where to find the lumber camp.

    “Okay… so…” he followed the drawn path with his finger past the first curve – he assumed he’d passed that already. He looked around, trying to compare the surrounding scenery with the map. On the border between the forest and the dirt path, he saw a strange rock that looked a little too angular. Forgetting for a moment why he was out in the wilderness, he bent down to inspect it. He picked it up and was surprised to find it was a brick. He looked around but couldn’t see any foundations nearby. Cynder was the only town nearby, it was nearing its centennial anniversary. He wondered if the town had been bigger, or if someone had tried to make their home out here before then. He placed the brick back where it had been, deciding it was best not to disturb the environment too much.

    Also, it was heavy, and he still had to find the lumber camp.

    When he stood straight, he looked for any signs of where to go. He smiled when he saw a few sets of footprints heading down the path. He decided that was his best bet at finding his way, grabbed the rope, and continued following the path. He couldn’t stop thinking about the brick. Something about it felt older than anything he’d ever seen, but he couldn’t quite figure out what was so unusual about it. Maybe it was just that he’d found it with no others near it. It was covered in dirt though, which means there might be more hidden, he thought as he approached the lumber camp. It was much closer to the river than he’d thought it would be.

    He stopped once he was inside the camp, watching the men as they finished setting up tents and going over plans, until a particularly burly man he recognized approached him.

    “What are you doing here, Desmond?” He asked, examining Desmond closely, “I don’t remember you signing up for clearing the forest.”

    “I’m not sir, I’m just here to deliver tools for Gilford.”

    “We were wondering where those were, don’t have near enough axes for everyone. Is this all of it?”

    “No sir, there’s two more.”

    “And you’re taking them alone?” The head logger asked, more like scoffed.

    “Well, since Gilford’s mule died-”

    “Take a couple of the men back with you, they’re getting too comfortable sitting around and we need the supplies.”

    “Thank you, I would appreciate the help…” Desmond trailed off, looking back at the path he’d approached the camp on, “have you found any bricks out here?”

    “Bricks?”

    “I found one on the way up here.”

    The man crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow, seemingly both skeptical and curious. “Can you show me? We might need to clear out some old foundations. I haven’t heard of any building plans out here, though.” He whistled for two of his men who’d just finished setting up a tent to join them.

    “What do you need, boss?” the taller of the two asked.

    “You’re gonna help Desmond here with the supplies, but first he’s gonna show us something he thinks he saw on the path. Have you two seen anything out in the forest?”

    “Just some fire wolves,” the shorter said.

    “That was on the other side of the river though, not on the way in,” the taller added.

    The head logger nodded, before motioning for Desmond to lead the way. Suddenly he felt anxious about it but led them down the path until he got to the place he’d stopped to rest. After some looking, he pointed out the brick for the men to see. The head logger knelt down to inspect it himself, then out towards the forest, then behind him. “I’ll send a few men to check for foundations. Thanks for telling us about this, Desmond,” he said, though he didn’t seem to be acknowledging him anymore.

    “Something the matter, boss?” The taller logger asked.

    “It’s nothing. Just never seen a brick like this before. It’s too… perfect to be a rock.”

    “What’s that mean?” The shorter logger asked.

    “Go and get the supplies.” He ordered the three, still looking out into the forest almost stoically as they turned away from him to return to the town.