Chapter 18 | Part 1

Balin kept a list in his head.

First time seeing mountains taller than Stonehold’s walls. First time sleeping under stars instead of stone. First time the air tasted like pine instead of forge smoke.

The list grew every day. That was the point of adventure, wasn’t it? Collecting firsts until you had enough for a proper story.

“You’re doing it again.”

Eldric’s voice cut through his thoughts. The old soldier had fallen into step beside him, eyes scanning the treeline with the constant vigilance that Balin found both impressive and exhausting.

“Doing what?”

“Cataloging.” Eldric’s lips twitched—not quite a smile. “You’ve been counting ridgelines since dawn. Seventeen, by my count.”

“Eighteen,” Balin corrected. “You missed the one behind the cloud break.”

“Eighteen ridgelines. What’s the purpose?”

“Firsts.” Balin shrugged. “First time seeing eighteen mountain ridges in a single day. It’s a new record.”

Eldric walked in silence for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was different. Careful.

“You have a list of firsts.”

“Everyone should. How else do you know you’re living?”

“What happens when a first is something you don’t want to remember?”

Balin frowned. “What do you mean?”

“First time someone tries to kill you.” Eldric’s eyes never stopped moving, watching the trees, the trail, the shadows. “First time you watch a friend fall. First time you realize the adventure stories left out all the parts that matter.”

“That won’t—”

“It will.” No malice in the words. Just certainty. “Not maybe. Will. You’re walking toward something, boy. We all are. And when we get there, your list of firsts is going to include things that don’t fit neatly into tavern tales.”

Balin wanted to argue. Wanted to say that Eldric was bitter, pessimistic, a veteran who’d forgotten what hope felt like.

But there was something in the old soldier’s voice that stopped him. Not cruelty. Warning.

Ahead, Dulint had stopped walking. Again.

“Uncle!” Balin’s frustration boiled over. “We’ve been stopped three times today. At this pace, we’ll reach Frostgard by next winter.”

Dulint turned, his face unreadable. “The ground looks wrong here. We should go around.”

“The ground looks like ground. It looks like every other piece of ground we’ve walked across for the last week.”

“Your uncle sees things you don’t,” Xandor said mildly, leaning on his staff. “Patience is a survival skill.”

“So is actually moving.”

Maris, who had been walking in silence as usual, suddenly stopped. Her eyes went unfocused—that look Balin had learned to recognize. The one that meant she was seeing something that wasn’t there.

“What is it?” Eldric’s hand went to his sword.

“Nothing.” Maris blinked, shook her head. “Just… echoes. Old violence. Something happened here once. A long time ago.”

“Helpful,” Balin muttered.

“I didn’t say it was helpful. I said it was.” Maris fixed him with those pale grey eyes. “Not everything I see is useful. Most of it isn’t. That’s the fun part of having your brain occasionally hijacked by forces you don’t understand.”

Dulint was still staring at the ground. Whatever he saw—or thought he saw—kept him rooted in place.

First time wanting to shake my uncle until his teeth rattled.

No. That wasn’t fair. Dulint had protected him his whole life. The slow routes, the careful choices, the endless caution—it wasn’t cowardice. Balin knew that. He just wished knowing felt like understanding.

“Fine,” he said. “We go around. Add another hour to the journey. Another day. What’s time to people who have nowhere to be?”

“We have somewhere to be,” Dulint said quietly. “That’s exactly why we’re being careful.”

They went around.

Balin added another first to his list: First time understanding that patience and frustration can exist in the same moment.

It didn’t make him feel better. But it felt true.

Behind them, the artifact pulsed in Dulint’s pack. Still pointing. Still calling.

First time wondering if the call was meant for him, or for whatever was listening.

He had a list of firsts. “First time killing someone” wasn’t on it.

Not yet.

End of Chapter 18.1 —> 18.2: Northbound: The Sign