The Haunted Traveler Vol. 2 Issue 1

who didn’t particularly like the Party; being a member was
the only way to advance in life.
Presently, it was close to eight ’o’clock. At eleven, he
would leave the inn and set out for the clearing. The dossier
indicated that it was on the other side of the bridge into town,
nearly a kilometer into the wilds.
Now, the wait.
***
At eleven sharp, Alexandru left the inn and began
walking toward the edge of town. The streets were empty
save for a few men staggering home from the tavern. They
didn’t seem to take any special notice of him as they passed.
Past the lights of Zela, darkness crashed down around him
like black sea water. The sky was still overcast, so neither
moon nor stars lit the way.
At the bridge, Alexandru paused for a moment to
get his bearings. The clearing was to the east, which, after
a quick calculation, was to his left. The papers said it was
rather large, and so shouldn’t be too difficult to find.
The brief stop lasted roughly ten minutes, and by the
time he was ready to get back underway, the sound of voices
in the night stopped him cold. Someone was behind him,
walking the same route he had. For a beat, he was paralyzed.
How would he explain being here, at this hour?
Just as quickly as it set in, the paralysis broke, and
training kicked him; moving quickly yet quietly, he ducked
off of the road and into a cluster of reeds at the water’s edge,
startling a frog into flight.
The voices drew nearer. Footfalls came on the bridge.
Clunk-clunk-clunk.
“...night.”
“I know. I know. I hate it too. But we must in order to
keep His blessings.”
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