Sal: Never Look Down on a Poor Young Man!

The four walked on for a while and spotted a traveler in a sorry state. He was soaked to the skin, looking like a drowned rat. Yet he carried a woodcutting axe in one hand and was striding toward them.

The man froze when he saw them, then broke into a delighted smile.

"Oh! Gorion! This was your doing, wasn't it?" He clearly knew Gorion and the others. "I knew there shouldn't be a thunderstorm on a perfectly ordinary night! It had to be your Spell!"

Pan Long understood at once—he must have recognized Gorion's Spell and come running with his axe to help.

Pan Long couldn't help smiling.

No matter when or where, running into a helpful friend was always a pleasure.

Faced with his friend's question, Gorion smiled awkwardly. "Khesid, I ran into a little trouble just now..."

"I can see that. If you hadn't, you'd be riding in a carriage." The man smiled too. "But you look all right. Is the trouble over?"

"Yes, it's over."

"Good." Khesid sounded relieved. "I'd better get home. If I don't change clothes and drink some hot wine, I'll be in trouble myself."

As they passed each other, Khesid suddenly remembered something. "There are two people up ahead. They don't look like they're up to any good. Be careful."

Gorion's expression shifted slightly. "Thanks, old friend. Next time I get the chance, drinks are on me."

"You'd better make it soon. My memory isn't as good as you Mages'. Give it a few months and I might forget."

Neither man looked back. They spoke as lightly as if they were discussing the weather, but once Khesid had gone, Gorion said gravely to the others, "If we meet two strangers in a moment, don't speak first. Let me sound them out."

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