This story begins en media res, with the old man Johannes encountering a traveling merchant's camp. There he makes friends, and tells the tale of his journey up to that point. He started his journey after his family home burned down, and he was given permission by the local lord to leave town.

The setting includes the fictional lands of Harland and Ardonia, which draw inspiration from eastern and western Europe in the middle ages. Feudalism rules that land, as lords defend their land and juggle the influences of church and state.

Throughout the novel, Johannes' strong faith is tested, as he encounters the dangers and truths of a cruel world. Faith is both a driving force that gives him confidence, and a crutch that holds him back, depending on the situation.

An old man out in the wilderness was a strange sight. Nonetheless, he was openly welcomed into the caravan’s encampment. He would be foolish to be deceitful in the unforgiving frontier, where friends were few and far between. So the huntsman, who kept watch around the camp clearing, let the old man through with instructions to speak with Penactus.
The old man drew looks from the merchants as he walked into the camp. He moved without hurry, and seemed to pay little mind to the stares and whispers from those around him. Around his neck hung a simple necklace of five dangling prayer beads, and a firm oak walking staff gave support to the hobble that betrayed his old age. His beard was likely disheveled from the journey, and his robes likely torn and muddy. To any casual observer, he would be mistaken for a beggar.
This was not in contrast to the camp he now entered. Before arriving in a town, these trading wagons were scrubbed and cleaned, but here in the middle of a journey, they bore dirt and goods in equal measure. Four wagons made a semicircle, in the center of which a large campfire was being assembled in preparation for the setting sun. Opposite the wagons, a square tent had been erected, with canvas walls and a small banner sat out front, woven with the form of a hound. Unto this tent, the old man made his way as instructed by the huntsman. Before he had passed the campfire, however, he was interrupted.
“Hold it, mister. Who gave you right to stroll into our camp and start begging,” said a square woman who was stacking wood for the campfire.
“Pay me no mind, madam. I haven’t need of coin out here. I seek only to speak to Penactus,” he said in slow reply.
“Well, he is occupied in yonder tent at the moment, which puts me in charge in his stead. The name’s Mildred, and I’d ask your name and business.”
“Johannes, at your service. I am a gardener, servant to house Llanoway in Eidelsville. At least that was my station, but I am now a humble pilgrim, seeking the Temple of the First Sight.”
“An Eidolian, huh? Shame to tell you, but our troupe is headed to Western Ardonia. Your temple is in Eastern Ardonia. I commend your progress so far, but it is unlikely one with hair as grey as yours could make the rest of the journey.”
Johannes knew quite well that the worst was yet to come. In the kingdom of Beldarus, he had been quite welcome, and knew the rolling hills and oak forests well. Here in the south, in Ardonia, he would be a foreigner, and unfamiliar with the sudden mountains and rocky cliffs of the land. While there had already been danger to this point, he had kept faith in his god, and survived. Faith would be his only tool in the journey ahead.
“Ah but you must be tired. You stumbled upon the right merchant caravan; not all Ardonians share our hospitableness. Regardless of what our leader Penactus tells you, I give you my invitation to share a meal and rest with us tonight. Isn’t that right lads?” she said looking back the the other folk working the camp, and was met with shouts of support and merriment.
As everyone returned to their work, Johannes continued to the tent, and found the aforementioned Penactus snoring inside on a sleeping cot. A loud, deliberate cough from Johannes was able to awaken the sleeping man with a jump.
“Wah! Who are you? What are you doing in here?” he said insistently.
“My name is Johannes. I came across your camp during my pilgrimage. Your huntsman bade me speak with you,” Johannes said calmly.
“I’ll have to speak with him about this later. For now, state your business here or be on your way. It may not look it but I am quite busy of late.”
“I would merely ask your permission to spend the night in the company of you and your companions. There is safety in numbers out here on the open road. A meal would also be greatly appreciated, but I have my own modest provisions if you can not spare any.”
“Very well old man, you may stay with us, but these paths are haunted by highwaymen and thieves. Mind your manners and keep away from the supply wagons if you value your fingers.”
Johannes, with permission to remain in the encampment, took leave of the tent and made his way to a small mossy rock. With the support of his walking staff and a hand reaching behind for the stone, he sat down to rest his feet. His leather sandals were nearly worn through, and he wondered with a furrowed brow if they would survive the rest of the way to the temple. He relaxed his brow as he remembered then that Eidolon bade his sandals to fade as they have, so if they break, it is not without good reason.
Thoughts of the journey ahead drove Johannes to reach for his necklace, a twine cord with five yellow wooden prayer beads strung along it. He decided it was Eidolon’s will that he make this journey. Otherwise, he would not have been able to survive the journey thus far. He chuckled at the strange irony of his pilgrimage; he does it in service to Eidolon, but it is only with their help it can be done. Mayhaps the judge of man simply pities my old frame, and wishes to give me a sense of purpose at the end of my life he thought, bringing an unsure mix of comfort and disturbance. Content to ponder no further, he let his eyes shut, his hearing fade, and a quiet nap take hold.
He awoke to a crackling fire, and a rowdy group, including Mildred and Penactus, preparing camp meal under the starry night sky. With little sound, he ambled into the circle, to draw warmth from the campfire. Mildred was in the midst of a story about a knight and a goose, so the group waited a moment to greet him. It turns out the knight had been chasing a swan the whole time, and the goose was nowhere to be seen. Johannes chuckled quietly to himself.
“I’d wager you’ve never heard that one in Beldarus, have you old man?” Mildred said after concluding her story.
“No, even in all my long years, I’ve never heard that tale. It is good to know Ardonians can have a sense of humor,” he said with a smile hidden under his grey beard.
“Well, Johannes, my men have convinced me to share some supper with you. Unfortunately, supplies are tight, so you will only be spared a single cut of pork,” Penactus said, “Take your pick, and after you’ve eaten I would like you to speak of your travels. I should hope there is a good story as to why someone as late in years as you would decide to start on a pilgrimage now.”
The merchants and their entourage had stuck a number of vegetables and slabs of porks on sharpened sticks. These were either stuck in the ground or held in the hand to keep over the fire. Johannes beamed at the long-forgotten smells of flavorful and salted food. He was weary of the bland and monotonous traveler’s rations, and eager to taste fresh vegetables once again. The slice of pork he was given disappeared quickly, along with the carrot and cauliflower which gave it additional flavor.
Once his belly was sated with his heartiest meal in weeks, Johannes cleared his throat to address the throng before him. They looked to him eagerly as they chewed and tore at their spigoted meals.
“I see you are all eager to hear of my travels. I beg your pardon in advance, as I tend to be quite long-winded in my age, so this story may last most of the night. My journey began much like you see here” Johannes said, motioning forward and moving to find the most comfortable position on his sitting log. He quietly clutched his necklace of beads.
“In fire.”

I don't currently intend to write anymore chapters. This submission is extra credit for my writing class.