Adventure of Octavius 1

Four days beyond Harrowmere, the party follows a forest road beneath damp green branches. Octavius forages just beyond the road’s edge, bow nocked across his palm, while Patter noses through fern and leaf litter.

The shout carries sharply through the trees. Octavius abandons the forage and hurries toward the road, bow still nocked but not drawn, Patter bounding close behind.

Edrin stands beside blood-darkened leaves, a broken pack strap, and earth churned beside the trail. Mara and Guard Tessa hold position several paces away, watching the silent forest beyond.

Patter stops at Octavius’s side, ears angled toward the trees. Ahead, the road bends beneath shadowed branches, offering no movement, no voices, and no explanation for the violence marked at its edge.

Octavius lowers his bow and studies the disturbed leaves without touching them. The blood drops narrow toward the trees, while a heel mark and a broken fern show someone limped away under haste.

He follows the signs fifty paces into the forest, finding a torn dark cloak snagged on bramble and a shallow hollow where its wearer paused. The blood trail continues east, lighter now, toward the ravine.

Octavius returns to the road with the direction fixed and the evidence undisturbed. Tessa has kept the party secure; Mara and Edrin remain untouched by surprise, while Patter watches the trees at her side.

Tessa passes him a wrapped roll of linen from the travel stores. Octavius enters the forest again, following the thinning blood trail east while Patter stays with the guarded party.

The trail ends beneath a leaning ash. A young adult man, a lean human with a narrow face and a frayed gray tunic beneath, lies in the leaves, one hand pressed to his side, his dark cloak torn and his face pale beneath cropped brown hair.

Octavius kneels, checks the wound, and binds it firmly with the linen. The bleeding slows under his practiced hands, and the stranger’s breathing steadies instead of failing.

When Octavius finishes, the wounded man can be moved with care. His life is no longer immediately slipping away, and the knife remains safely sheathed at Octavius’s belt.

The wounded stranger keeps his hand pressed to the bandage and meets Octavius’s gaze without flinching. Consent replaces panic, giving the rescue a clear shape.

Octavius stays beside the stranger, one hand steady near the dressing without pressing it. His voice carries through the trees toward the road, while the injured man watches him with exhausted trust.

Tessa’s answer comes with the first rustle of returning footsteps. The stranger closes his eyes briefly, still conscious, while Octavius remains at his side and the promised help reaches them.

Octavius offers the apology with an embarrassed laugh, making himself the awkward one in the exchange. The wounded man’s guarded expression eases as Tessa’s approaching footsteps draw nearer.

The name comes without resistance, and the stranger’s shoulders loosen against the ash’s roots. He keeps one hand over the bandage while the other opens briefly in trust.

Tessa kneels beside Savin and checks Octavius’s binding without disturbing it. Behind her, Mara steadies the cart while Edrin brings the padded bedroll forward.

Octavius rises and takes position beside Tessa, supporting Savin’s shoulders while she steadies his wounded side. They lift him together, keeping the bandages undisturbed.

Savin’s breath catches during the first step, but Tessa adjusts her hold before the movement worsens it. Mara clears the path while Edrin brings the cart close.

The party reaches the cart without signs of pursuit. Tessa keeps Savin supported as they lower him onto the padded bedroll, while Octavius watches the forest and the empty bend beyond it.