On the wagon, the rhythmic clatter of wheels against the stone road filled the silence. Kharnek sat opposite Ludger, looking far more alive than he had at breakfast. A full meal and a flask of water had revived the giant northerner’s spirit, though his stomach didn’t seem to share that enthusiasm.

  “Ugh,” he groaned after the third bump in the road, one hand gripping the side of the cart. “I think the ground’s still spinning…”

  Kaela, lounging lazily beside him, smirked. “That’s what happens when you trade half your blood for liquor, mountain-man.”

  “Bah,” Kharnek muttered. “Worth it.”

  She laughed softly and leaned back, arms folded behind her head as the wind caught her hair. “Still, I’ll say this, that was a fun trip. New sights, new people, and no one tried to arrest us for once. I could get used to this.”

  Ludger didn’t look up from the small notebook in his hands, the pages filled with messy sketches of runes and half-finished notes from his experiments. “You could?” he said absently.

  Kaela grinned. “Sure. If it means traveling around like this, I wouldn’t mind letting the Lionsguard borrow my good looks and sharp mind.”

  That made Ludger glance up, one eyebrow raised in his usual dry skepticism. “Generous of you.”

  “Mm-hm,” she said, smirking. “I’m a giver.”

  He shook his head faintly and returned to his notes, the faintest hint of amusement tugging at his expression. But his thoughts had already drifted elsewhere.

  The League, the runes, the strange bridge between magic and machinery, he’d seen more in a few days than most scholars did in a lifetime. But what waited back home mattered more. Reports to file. Shipments to manage. Training to resume. And the quiet, gnawing need to test everything he’d learned before the memory dulled.

  He closed the notebook and looked toward the horizon. Lionfang was far away, but the thought of its familiar stone walls steadied him.

  “Plenty of work waiting,” he murmured under his breath.

  Kaela tilted her head. “What was that?”

  “Nothing,” Ludger said, eyes on the road ahead. “Just thinking.”

  The wagon creaked forward, rolling through the mist and into the growing light of the day, the first stretch of the long road home.

  Two days later, the wagon crested the last rise of the border mountIns and crossed back into Imperial soil. The faint mist of the Velis League faded behind them, replaced by the crisp, dry wind of the western frontier.

  It should have taken three days, maybe four, given the distance and terrain. But Ludger wasn’t patient enough for that.

  The first day had gone as expected: steady pace, short rests, and long stretches of road that blurred together under gray skies. But when the horses began to slow, their breath misting heavy and tired, Ludger decided he’d had enough of the League’s endless roads and their “proper” schedules.

  He stepped off the wagon, pressed a hand to the dirt, and let his mana flow. The ground shuddered. From beneath the wheels rose a broad slab of compacted earth, lifting the entire wagon, horses and all, several feet off the ground. The startled animals neighed in confusion until Ludger murmured a brief calming pulse through the reins, steadying their panic.

  “Stay still,” he said simply, voice calm but commanding.

  He reshaped the stone under their hooves, forming a shallow platform that moved upward and was sturdy enough to keep the horses from touching the ground. Then, with another pulse of mana, he coated the wagon’s wheels in a layer of fine, rotating earth. The makeshift gears began to spin.

  The wagon lurched forward. Slowly at first, then faster, until the wind whistled past them again.

  Kaela had leaned halfway out of the cart, hair whipping wildly in the breeze, laughing over the noise. “You’re driving the ground,” she shouted. “That’s insane!”

  “I call it Stone Surfing 2.0,” Ludger corrected, his tone as flat as ever.

  Kharnek gripped the side rails, eyes wide. “You sure this is safe, boy?”

  “No,” Ludger said. “But it’s faster.”

  From then on, the rhythm never stopped. When the horses tired, he lifted them onto the moving platform, letting them rest as the earth itself carried the wagon forward. When his mana began to drain, he sat cross-legged inside the cart, eyes closed, letting his breathing slow into the calm pulse of geomantic meditation.

  The faint blue glow of his amulet shimmered against his chest, feeding his mana regeneration at twice its normal pace. His earth gloves, kept the platform stable even while he meditated. The system flowed in perfect balance: the gloves reinforcing control and power, the amulet restoring power, and his mind maintaining the flow with mechanical precision.

  Kaela and Kharnek had given up trying to understand it after the first few hours. She napped in the back, humming occasionally, while Kharnek muttered prayers to whichever Northerner gods handled gravity.

  By the second sunset, the horizon changed. The metallic haze of the League gave way to open plains and clean wind, the Empire’s air.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Ludger finally lowered the platform and let the wagon touch real ground again. The horses stirred, shaking themselves awake, eager to move on their own.

  “We’re home,” Kaela said, stretching with a satisfied grin.

  “Home,” Kharnek echoed, rubbing his shoulder. “Still prefer the ground staying still, if I’m honest.”

  Ludger didn’t reply. He just looked out at the fading light across the fields, the faint silhouette of Imperial watchtowers on the horizon. They’d made it back a full day early.

  He let out a slow breath, mana still humming quietly under his skin. “Good,” he said simply. “Now we can get back to work.”

  Two more days on the road brought them to the capital.

  The familiar skyline rose from the plains, marble spires, high walls, and the faint shimmer of the barrier wards that encircled the Imperial City like a ghostly dome. The hum of life reached them long before the gates came into view: the distant clang of smiths, the cry of merchants, the layered murmur of ten thousand people moving at once.

  There was no real reason to stop here. Their cargo was in Lionfang, and the sooner they send it, the better. But Ludger had two tasks that couldn’t wait.

  He needed to confirm whether Lord Torvares was still there and to pass a message to Rufas Dalmoren regarding the route he had carved through the mountains for the Velis shipments. A shortcut like that could change trade patterns across the border, and it was best the right people heard it from him first.

  The thought of another round of noble politics made his shoulders tighten slightly. When the capital walls finally came into view, tall, polished white, glinting faintly under the afternoon sun, Ludger released a slow sigh and loosened his grip on the reins.

  He’d been pushing the horses hard since dawn, but with the city ahead, he let them slow and take the lead. They didn’t need his geomancy to move now.

  Kaela, who had been leaning lazily on the wagon’s side, turned her head toward him and frowned. “You look like someone just told you to plow the city walls by hand,” she said. “What’s with the sigh?”

  Ludger didn’t look at her. “Just thinking,” he said.

  She tilted her head. “About what? You look half-dead.”

  He rubbed his temple, eyes still on the road. “That’s because I did the horses’ work with my head for several days straight.”

  Kaela blinked, then let out a short laugh. “You’re serious?”

  “I am.”

  “Saints…” she muttered, shaking her head. “You actually dragged the wagon with magic instead of resting like a sane person?”

  Kharnek, half-dozing in the back, gave a low chuckle. “Aye, and he wonders why he looks like he wrestled a mountain.”

  Ludger’s lips twitched, almost a smile. “It was faster,” he said simply.

  Kaela leaned back, grinning. “You and ‘faster’ are going to get each other killed someday.”

  “Probably,” Ludger admitted.

  The wagon rolled on, the sound of hooves echoing against the cobbled road as the capital gates loomed closer. The guards straightened when they saw the Lionsguard insignia on the wagon, quickly waving them through without inspection.

  Beyond the gates, the streets opened in all their chaos and noise, banners fluttering, merchants shouting, soldiers marching in neat formations.

  Ludger let the horses continue at their own pace, the sigh he’d given earlier still hanging in the air. He wasn’t tired of the journey, not exactly. He was just tired of how familiar it already felt. Duty never waited long, even when home was still a day away.

  By the time the wagon reached the Torvares estate, the afternoon sun was already dipping low, casting long shadows across the empty courtyards.

  Ludger slowed the horses and frowned. The place felt… hollow. Normally, the estate buzzed with quiet discipline, guards at every gate, servants moving between the main hall and the garden, banners bearing the bull crest fluttering in the breeze. Now, the courtyards were silent. The front gate stood open, and only a handful of guards remained posted along the walls.

  When Ludger stepped down from the wagon, one of the remaining guards straightened immediately and hurried forward, his armor scuffed but his stance sharp.

  “Sir,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “Apologies for the state of things. Lord Torvares departed five days ago.”

  “Five days?” Ludger repeated, tone even.

  “Yes, sir. He left with Captain Darnell and ten of the capital guards as escort. They said they were returning North, back toward Meronia.”

  Ludger nodded once, processing. That explained the quiet. Torvares never lingered anywhere longer than necessary, and with Darnell and ten trained guards, the old man would be safe enough.

  “Understood,” Ludger said. “He’s probably already at home. I have a message for you to deliver to Rufas Dalmoren.”

  The guard nodded, relief visible in his posture as Ludger turned back toward the wagon.

  Kaela was leaning against the railing, watching the exchange with raised eyebrows. “So the old bull already left, huh?” she said. “Guess that means we’ve got time to rest then?”

  Ludger looked up at her, deadpan. “No.”

  Her smirk faltered. “No?”

  “I don’t have time to let you get drunk again,” he said, climbing back onto the wagon. “And the fewer chances we give for something in the capital to slow us down, the better.”

  Kharnek, who was sitting cross-legged near the back, let out a grumble. “You’re allergic to breaks, boy.”

  “Kind of,” Ludger corrected, taking the reins again.

  Kaela sighed dramatically. “Efficient, stubborn, and boring.”

  “Pragmatic,” Ludger added, flicking the reins.

  The horses started forward, hooves clopping against the stone as the wagon turned back toward the western road.

  Kaela crossed her arms and leaned back with a mock glare. “You really are no fun.”

  Ludger’s expression didn’t change. “That’s what keeps the rest of you alive to have fun.”

  Kharnek chuckled slowly, shaking his head. “He’s got you there, girl.”

  As the estate disappeared behind them, the fading light caught the bronze edges of the city’s towers, glinting like distant embers. The capital had been just another stop, nothing more, nothing less.

  Ludger urged the horses into a steady trot as they approached the western gate, his focus already set on the road beyond. The sooner they left the capital behind, the better. He’d wasted enough time confirming Torvares’s movements, now it was all about getting the shipment on Lionfang before anything delayed it.

  But the moment the gate came into view, he spotted a familiar figure standing near the archway.

  He sighed quietly. “Of course.”

  Kaela tilted her head from the passenger bench. “Problem?”

  “Troublesome one,” Ludger said under his breath.

  As the wagon drew closer, the man turned toward them, clean-cut coat, sharp boots, and not a speck of dust on him despite standing on a road full of movement. His blond hair caught the light like polished gold, and his smile was just as well-rehearsed as ever.

  Rufas Dalmoren.

  He looked completely out of place by the gate, far too refined to be standing where guards and traders passed all day.