"Dad, that's what they call forgetting," I said, a bit annoyed.
Before Astraya could also reply, a voice drifted toward us.
"Headin' to Blackroot?"
We turned. The sight of them a family standing silently beside a weather-beaten notice board made my heart hammer. How had we not seen them?
The father was a rugged man with a thick, braided beard and a worn, forest-green cloak that perfectly matched the surrounding foliage. He leaned heavily on a long-handled axe. Beside him stood his wife, a vision in a deep, earthy red dress, her thick braid resting over one shoulder. She held the hand of a blond boy, maybe eight or nine, who timidly peered up at us. The father's coat looked visibly worn, a telltale sign of long, hard travel.
My father's entire posture stiffened. His gaze locked instantly onto the axe, an unspoken question of intent passing between the two men. Both seemed to understand the silent language of the road, as the stranger suddenly realized he was openly brandishing a weapon.
"Oh, my apologies, how rude of me," he murmured, quickly moving to lower the axe out of sight. His wife and son immediately followed suit, bowing their heads in a gesture of courtesy and respect.
Dropping the subject as quickly as he'd drawn it, the man introduced himself, his wife, and their son. The boy gave a tiny, awkward wave and then stared, a truly timid child.
"Thought you might be trouble," the father admitted, pointing toward a line of foliage. "We hid ourselves in those bushes there." The growth was indeed tall and thick, easily reaching the waist of an average man. It made perfect sense now how they'd vanished from our sight. "It's not safe out here while travelling."
My father's own guard visibly softened. He relaxed his tense shoulders and let his stern gaze soften. "Why so tense? We aren't any trouble. Just on our way… though we're a little unsure of which way that is."
"We just came from the left side of the paths," the woman said, steering the conversation voluntarily.
"Yes," her husband confirmed with finality.
My father smiled, hopping lightly down from the wagon seat. "Ah, perfect timing! My good sir and family, you wouldn't happen to know which road heads to Blackroot, would you?"
The man glanced up at the notice board an old, half-rotted slab of wood plastered with a few faded, peeling papers.
"Left," he said slowly, his tone suddenly shifted with a clear hint of warning. "But I wouldn't go there if I were you. Not unless it's strictly business and a one-day trip."
Father raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And why's that?"
The man turned to face his wife and son, gathering them close. Whatever he was about to say clearly shook the entire family. He rested his cheek briefly against his wife's temple before turning his gaze back to us a deadly serious, straight face, his eyes heavy with a tired kind of grief.
"Because people go missin' there," he stated flatly. "You get too comfortable in that godforsaken town and poof, someone you know and love just disappears without a trace. It happens every month."
He gripped his wife's hand, which in turn held the boy's. "My wife and I lost our eldest son there three months ago."
Astraya's smile faded instantly. Even Morad fell quiet, his fins stilling.
The man's wife stepped closer, her voice trembling.
"They say it's nothing serious that those who vanish just ran away," she whispered. "Most were young folk at first, children or teens who wandered off, or so they claimed. But lately… it's been anyone. Men, women, even elders. And still, no one investigates. People vanish, and the town just " she swallowed hard, " carries on. Like it's normal."
She gripped her husband's arm, her eyes wet and burning. "We couldn't stay in a place that treats our son's disappearance like a rumor like it never happened."
She pointed toward the notice board. I leaned closer, focusing on the grim collection of papers, just as my father and Astraya did.
Paper after paper, each bearing a photograph or drawing of a face. Men, women, even children. Every single one was stamped MISSING. Every single one was from Blackroot.
Father's eyes darkened as he took in the wall of tragedy. "I see…"
The woman continued, "We're heading to Sabah. It's safer, though they don't welcome outsiders. But I'd rather sleep at the gate there than vanish in Blackroot."
Father nodded thoughtfully. "Hmm… You're wise to follow your instincts."
The man gave a strained smile. "If you value your family, turn back. There's something deeply wrong with that town. That's the best advice I can give a family man like yourself."
He turned away, adjusting his son's small coat. He didn't speak again on the matter, but the silent weight of his grief hung in the air.
"Well, we will take our leave now. We'll be taking the right path, as that leads to Sabah."
The family started walking, gave a final wave, and soon disappeared into the distance while we remained standing by our wagon. Father's hand went to his chin.
"Hmmmm. This might be a problem, alright. Kids, I have a confession to make: I know I gave you the impression I had been to Blackroot, but that's not true."
"What, Father? You're serious?
No wonder you didn't even know the correct path!" astrayed said looking abit stressed.
My father was already getting on my nerves. Our first day outside the barrier, and him as our guide was already showing so many levels of incompetency. Sigh.
"So what are we going to do now?"
Morad immediately spoke his mind. "We turn back. That's what we should do." He was visibly concerned.
Father's only response was a drawn-out "Hmmmm," as he remained lost in thought.
Father finally turned back toward us. "We're still going to Blackroot," he said, his voice calm but resolute.
"But I won't be the only one making that decision today. I believe you two are smart enough to have a say in this as well. What do you think about my choice?"
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
"But before you answer, let me be clear on one thing: I am your father, Vulgabread, son of the Fula household. And when I give you my word that your safety is in my hands, I mean it. I will protect you with my life. This place Blackroot—is where we will find the help we need. It's where the next step forward resides."
Father had charmed me again with his words. He was right about one thing: he was our father, and while he joked about many things, he never, ever compromised our safety. If whatever people we were meeting in Blackroot were the real deal, then I saw no reason why not.
"I agree. Let's go."
Morad and Astraya looked utterly shocked.
"What, Astraga?" Astraya blurted. "You want to go? I thought you were against leaving the barrier!"
"I thought you were in support leaving the barrier?" I countered. "Father has assured us our safety is in his hands. I trust him."
Astraya let out a big sigh. "We make sure we send Mother a message immediately when we reach Blackroot. At least she deserves to know."
"Deal!" Father said, his expression softening. "You two… thanks for putting a little faith in your old man. I may not look it, but your old man isn't all books and no fist."
I could already feel my fishbowl of fright starting to tremble.
"You okay, Morad?"
"O-o-oh, me? I'm go-go-good! If Brother's going, then I'm going!"
"Alright!" Father cheered, hoisting himself back onto the wagon. "Straight to Blackroot!"