Date: April 7, 542 years since the Fall of Zanra the Dishonored.
Three weeks. Three weeks they had walked where Sobra's compass pointed, and in that time, the world around them had changed beyond recognition. The forests where they'd begun their journey were far behind. Hills covered in rough grass gave way to wide plains, plains to low mountains, mountains to valleys where the air was so pure it made your head spin.
Sobra's compass led them unerringly. It didn't show direction like a normal device — it seemed to pull them forward, making them turn right, then left, then go straight through the most unexpected obstacles. And they followed, because they had learned to trust.
Three weeks they crossed lands Datuk had only heard of in travelers' tales. They slept under the open sky when stars were the only roof, and in cramped caves when clouds covered the sky. They ate what they could catch — Sobra hunted, Datuk cooked, sometimes they swapped, and there was a special harmony in that. Though Sobra was a terrible cook.
Sometimes they met people. Herders moving flocks from summer to winter pastures. Merchants hauling goods between cities. Old hunters who lived in the woods and knew every stream, every trail. They looked at the dwarf and the bear walking side by side, and in their eyes was surprise, sometimes approval. But no one asked where they were going. In these lands, it was customary to respect another's path.
And today, as the sun sank toward the horizon, painting the sky crimson, they crested a hill and stopped.
Below, as far as the eye could see, stretched a valley. It was like a bowl filled with green — so lush and bright it seemed the earth itself glowed from within. Tall trees with wide crowns, unlike any Datuk had seen, soared toward the sky, their branches intertwined so densely that sunlight pierced them in rare golden beams. In the distance, a river sparkled — narrow, swift, its water so clear you could see it rolling over the rocky bottom.
The air smelled of pine and flowers, and Datuk wanted to breathe it again and again.
"Wow," he breathed.
Sobra stood beside him, his usually bristling fur now smooth. He stared at the valley, and in his eyes, in that strange, fixed gaze, Datuk read what he couldn't put into words. They had arrived. This was the place.
The compass in Sobra's fur had stopped glowing. Its light, which had pulsed steadily and confidently, was now calm, barely visible. The task was complete. They had reached.
"Well," Datuk clapped his friend on the shoulder, feeling the tension of the three-week journey begin to ease. "Shall we go down? See what all this beauty is about."
Sobra nudged his chest and led the way down. Datuk followed, each step lighter than the last. For the first time in a long while, he didn't think about what lay ahead. Didn't think about trials, battles, why the compass had led them here. He just walked, breathing the incredible air, watching clouds' shadows slide over the green bowl of the valley.
They reached the river as the sun was nearly set. The water was cold and clear, and Datuk, unable to resist, scooped a handful, drank. It tasted so good he drank more. Sobra lay on the bank, putting his muzzle in the water, drinking long and contentedly.
Then they found a spot for the night — a small clearing under a spreading tree whose roots formed a natural shelter. Datuk built a fire, Sobra brought wood, and soon a small flame flickered in the gathering darkness, casting shadows on the tall trunks.
They sat by the fire, and Datuk watched the stars, which here, far from cities, seemed especially bright. Sobra lay beside him, his warm, heavy body the only thing keeping the dwarf from wanting to leap up and go on, right now, into the darkness.
"It's beautiful here," he said.
Sobra nodded.
"Did you know we'd come here?" Datuk asked. "Could you feel it?"
The bear didn't answer. Just looked at him — a long, steady look that held everything. That he knew. That he didn't know. That they would learn together, when the time came.
Datuk grinned, scratched behind his friend's ear. "Alright. Tomorrow we'll see. Tonight, sleep."
He threw the last branches on the fire, settled against Sobra's warm side, and closed his eyes. Somewhere in the distance, the river murmured, the sound so soothing that sleep came instantly, dreamless.