Everywhere in Sedaia, from the Snowlands to the Scorchlands, was washed in a summer glow. Warmth was spreading throughout the nation, and people were roaming the countryside. The last busy days of Spring were over. During the day, families sang of happiness and freedom. At night, stars streaked across the sky carrying the wishes of the people to their loved ones in the Afterrealm.
Parades of wagons made their way down roads throughout Sedaia, trailing festive banners and converging in the center of the country. Wherever music played, a passionate voice would join in. Lovers reunited for summer romance, and children ran wild and free in the grass.
Life was good.
There were poeple in Sedaia that were happy to enjoy the warm months at home.
Then there were people that took to the road...
People like…
♬♩ Heading out of the Midlands in search of a powerful holy artifact:Eliza Chayre
“Do you think she’ll be alright?”
“Who?”
“Paladin Chayre.”
Two young men were knee deep in stable muck, meticulously braiding the tails of great white horses. One was dark haired and sour faced, while the other was blonde and burst into laughter.”Paladin Chayre! My gods, that was a good one. You - oh, you weren’t joking?”
The serious expression on his companion’s face told him as much. The man coughed into his fist to compose himself while the other stablehand went on.“I know she’s strong, but I heard the other paladins talking. They said it was a wild goose chase…”
The blonde man shrugged, turning his eyes back to the task in front of them. Two locks of horse hair in each hand - over, under, over, under. “Remember when she bested Paladin Kouch in a mounted race even though he’s the fastest rider in the Midlands?”
“That’s not really the same.”
“Remember when she cleared the whole hillside of monsters when everyone claimed they bred too fast to be rid of?”
“...”
The stablehands worked in silence for a while after that. By the time it was past noon and the sun was just starting it’s descent, a dozen horses had their tails neatly tied. They flicked them lazily and waited for the men to start on their manes. The stablehands inspected their work for a few moments. Some weren’t braided as tightly as they should have been, but the flies were starting to swarm about the animal pens and the summer heat wasn’t going to let up any time soon.“I hope that thing she’s chasing is fake.”
“Why’s that?”
“Would you really want her around to tell us to start over? ‘You are disgracing the Cathedral with such lazy braiding!’ Bah, I can imagine that all too well. The longer she's away, the better!”
–——————— ❂ ——————–
So it was that the paladin found herself away from the Capitol and on the cusp of the Midlands, on a dusty road that ran through a field of wild grass. In her hand was an old parchment map, with a vague drawing of a stone castle and a heading of North. The priests in the Cathedral hypothesized that “the artifact,” an unknown phenomenon that could allegedly heal any ailment, could have belonged to some ancient civilization and was lost after the Godking unified the country.
That must be why we have so little information about it. Only tales, one priest shared with Eliza while she was preparing for her journey. Whether this was true or false, it mattered little. All that mattered was that a paladin was entrusted with a mission to find this artifact, and she would see this mission through.
The oldest ruins in Sedaia were dotted throughout the Highlands and the Snowlands. All kinds of old things slumbered there; cultures, magi, beasts. Where other regions saw their history ploughed and planted over, the rougher terrain of the Northern reaches of the country preserved through the sheer inconvenience it would have caused men to try and tame it.
A cart passed Eliza by, rumbling down the dirt path and shifting dust into the air. From the back of the wagon three pairs of feet dangled. A man with a cloth over his face, and two women - one older and one younger. The girl waved at Eliza as they passed.
♬♩ Crossing into the Croplands in pursuit of a mystery monster:Cassius Vance
Every first hand account of the “Woodard Plantation Monster” was different. The creature was huge, but human sized. It had glowing eyes, or sunken ones, or no eyes at all. It had rows of razor sharp teeth and sometimes even three mouths full of them. It was bipedal but walked on four legs more often. It had huge claws and wings and claws for wings.
It also had two heads. Sometimes.
However, there was one consistent feature about the monster through every report.
It was so terrifying that the entire plantation’s staff was threatening to quit.“The worst part is the staff is spreading the nasty news around,”
Kalar Woodard growled from behind his desk. “Every new hire gets scared off as soon as they arrive. If the whole staff quits I’ll lose hundreds of gold in produce before I can replace them all.”
Woodard stroked his mustache as he regarded Cassius at his estate, all those days ago. His frown was deep, but his pockets were deeper and he set a large bag of jingling coins on the dark wooden desk. He raised an eyebrow at his newest mercenary.“All the men I’ve hired to hunt the monster have run off too. I hope you’ll find this payment
very generous Mr. Vance. I’ll send you to the Croplands with a portion of it, and the rest will be waiting for you here when you bring back good news for me.”
Perhaps the fact that Woodard hadn’t even entertained the idea of an “if” weighed on Cassius’ mind as heavy as the coins weighed in his purse as he neared the last leg of his trip across the Scrublands. Cropland Pass was a popular destination in the summer, and this area of the country was crowded with people of all types. There were nobles on holiday heading towards their second properties in the Croplands, as well as peasants from all over Sedaia intending to maintain those properties for pay. It was a system that seemed to work, but even the largest of farms only had need for so many people. By late summer it was a competition to get hired for the lowliest positions, let alone farm or house work.
Most people were heading South just as Cassius was, filling the road ahead with chatter. Some we headed the opposite direction with their possessions strapped to their back and haunted looks in their eyes.“C’mon, hurry hurry! We don’ wanna get stuck workin’ the pig pen!”
A stocky woman brushed past the monster hunter, dragging a scruffy man behind her. As they hurried away, more of their conversation drifted over the talk of the crowd.“If yer that worried we can jus’ go t’one of the bigger places, they’re always hirin’. Eastern part o’the place got lotsa big farms. Grupeir place, Baker place, Wood--”
“Not that last one! My cousin’s friend’s brother said
his cousin worked nearby the Woodard place and they got some huge animal tearin’ the place apart!”
“Oh, yer cousin’s friend said that?”
“No, my cousin’s friend’s
brother, y’know the tall skinny one? Actually I dunno if ya would’ve met him...”
Their words tapered off the farther away they got, but their conversation had already steered itself into vague family drama. News of the monster had indeed spread, but to think it had made it out of the Croplands entirely…
People continued to fill the road and the space around it before eventually spreading out through the Cropland Pass. Although the town's entrance was congested, the crowd parted for a few people from time to time. A girl who seemed to be traveling alone, and a young man with a hoe secured to his back to name a few. And though most also parted for Cassius after a glance at the sword strapped to his hip, some refused to give up their spot in line at the gate. Two men took up space just waiting there, their eyes leering after every young girl that was heading out of town.
♬♩ On the way home after receiving a vague letter:Nea Honeyforge
It wasn’t exactly an extravagant send off, but still a small crowd gathered around Nea on the dawn of her departure from the estate. The kitchen staff she’d worked closely with pressed dried fruit, herbs, and roots into her palms and whispered well wishes into her ears. Housekeepers smiled and gossiped about the reasons Nea could be leaving them, but passed her sturdy hand me down cloths all the same. A few of the field workers even stopped to say their goodbyes, clapping the girl on the back or shoulder and asking for promises to return soon.
One boy about Nea’s age quickly stuffed a ripe, round grapefruit into her satchel. He put one finger to his lips to plead the girl’s silence, then slipped away and back to work. The fruits of Karstein’s orchard were good quality, but there was so little opportunity for his own staff to savor them. It was only right that Nea get one last taste, and the other people gathered turned their eyes away just this once.“Ahem.”
The estate’s manager and head servant approached, quieting the chatter. After a few moments, the old man cleared his throat again and gave a pointed glance to each and every person gathered, finally dispersing the staff and leaving only Nea and himself at the property’s edge. It was a beautiful piece of land, with greenery as far as the eye could see. High topiaries in the shape of serpents stood tall over the two of them, their leafy faces pointed out as if to watch Nea as she left.“You’ve done good work here.”
It was as much of a compliment as the younger servants ever got from Mr. Nathaniel. The man handed her a small pouch of money, nodded to her, then turned away and went back into the manor.That had been two days ago. Karstein’s estate was on the further edge of the Croplands, but travel within the region’s borders was quick and constant. Farmhands moving from estate to estate, merchants picking up supplies to peddle, nobles traveling to and from their own spacious properties to that of neighboring ones to gloat and gossip. There were always two or three wagons on the road willing to trade a ride for some company.
One such small caravan ushered Nea and a couple of others out of the back of the cart at the turn-around just outside of Cropland Pass.“If you’re going far, make sure you stick to the main road!”
The wagon driver called out. A couple of the passengers waved the man off, gripped their packs tightly and headed straight out of town. Croplands Pass was just as lively now as it was two years ago when Nea first arrived there. Just as before, there were more people heading into the region than out, and this time Nea found herself in the latter group.
There were a couple of others headed away from town. A blue clothed man carrying a hoe, who fit right in with the crowd. A couple of scruffy looking men, who didn’t. Men armed to the teeth walked the other way, most likely more mercenaries hired to clear out problem areas to make room for more farmland.
It was a warm, clear day. A cold grunt cut through the hum of voices, and a hand landed on Nea’s shoulder. One of the scruffy men from just before had a loose hold on her, and his partner pushed off from a post and started making his way over.“Where you headed?”
The man gruffed.
♬♩ In search of any leads to cure his curse:Ori Tabel
Well, that had been a bust.
The capital city had little to offer Ori other than food, drink, games, music - okay, it had a lot to offer the young man. Nothing he needed, though.
Nothing that would save his life.
Haydrin’s Seat was deep in preparation for the Celebration of Kings. Vendors of all kinds were running sales and less than eager to speak with anyone that wasn’t a customer. Students and scholars in the area were taking a break from their learning and drinking in all kinds of mead rather than words on a page. Even the members of the Cathedral, usually so welcoming, were harried with requests from locals and visitors to the city. Where the clergy shied away from Ori’s talk about a bloodline curse, offered him condolences, advised him to make peace with his life and ultimately turned him away… the Hungry Sow Tavern welcomed him with open arms.
So did the Drunken Hound, the Whistling Dragon, and the Old Oak.
Public officials gave Ori unhelpful platitudes, while pub patrons handed him interesting information of all kinds. People were friendly, handsy, talkative. Even the most sullen of drunks couldn’t help but be infected by the holiday cheer spreading through Haydrin’s Seat. Men and women sighed rumors into Ori’s ears, drew crude maps on his palms with their fingers.
You have to eat the heart of a dragon, one said. Actually it’s a phoenix heart, someone else corrected.
There’s a tribe of people in the South that still use the cursed magic, a woman whispered with a nervous glance at the guardsman at the bar.
I heard there was a spring in the Tidelands that could heal wounds just by bathing in it, an older man said. He leaned back in his chair and scratched his chin. My mother told me that story. Probably isn’t true, though.
Eventually the stories were repeating themselves, and alcohol all started tasting the same. It was time to move on.–——————— ❂ ——————–
“There, that’s everything. Let’s get going. Jona, can you take the reins?”
“Sure, momma.”
A scrawny boy patted the side of the family horse, a painted mare, as he climbed up into the driver’s seat of their wagon. His mother, a tall woman with braided blonde hair trailing down her back, lifted her daughter into the cart’s back. The girl’s leg was bandaged, but otherwise she seemed excited for a journey.
She turned to Ori and smiled at him softly. Even through the cloth bind covering his eyes, she knew he could see her expression.“Let us give you a ride Ori. It’s the least we can do to repay you. Please.”
The woman’s words were earnest and hopeful, although she left room for Ori to refuse her offer. Her daughter peered after the blind man, and her stare was less compromising. It was a look that clearly said “I’ll never forgive you if you don’t come along with us,” and so Ori found himself traveling Westbound out of the Midlands.“The Scrublands get so hot this time of year,”
the matriarch sighed, fanning herself with one hand. “Where are you going next Ori?”
“It’s not polite to ask personal questions like that.”
“Aaaw, momma!”
Mother and daughter sat in comfortable silence after that, but it didn’t last for very long. The older woman hummed softly just before speaking again.“We’ll be happy to take you anywhere you want to go, though. Or part of the way at least, if it’s very far.”
Beside them, the daughter listened in but was already more interested in what was around them. Her eyes grew wide as they passed a woman in armor. “A knight,”
she whispered to herself, waving at the knight.
♬♩ On the road North seeking any and all help:Kendra Damyar
The dull crackle of fire. The shaking of dead seeds in a carefully blown glass jar.
A bone deep sigh echoed around the camp.“You old timers sure like to sit around feeling sorry, hm?”
Various eyes turned toward the man seated by the bonfire. He was young, strong, and this wasn’t the first time he attracted looks of annoyance. In the face of their squinted gazes, the man merely raised a bushy eyebrow.“I’m right,”
he stated.
It was the middle of the day, but the campfire was still lit since one of their own left just before dusk the day before. In the Scorchlands, it was safer to travel by night in the summer. Roaming monsters were dangerous but uncommon - the sun was an ever present threat. Tazia’s heat took life just as easily as her light gave it.
People approached the fire every now and then, throwing what little they had to spare into it. A tradition to pray for the safety of their missing member. They threw scraps of food to wish her well fed, herbs for luck, small chunks of mineral for protection. They all ignored the haughty man lounging on the dried earth. “You know, I’ve been thinking. Of actually
doing something.”
“Chapa, thinking? I don’t believe it.”
A woman so old it looked to be a miracle she could still move laughed at her own joke, and those within earshot laughed with her. Slowly, she moved toward the small pile of flames and dropped a misshapen stone into it.“We were all scared. To leave our home behind, but we did it. Then we were scared to leave our family, but Kendra dispersed that fear for us. She is a brave woman who needs our support. Send positive thoughts to her, instead of spreading negative ones around here.”
The man, Chapa, pinched his eyes closed and sighed out through his nose. He flopped onto his back with a dark tint to his cheeks. After a few moments he opened his eyes and stared into a cloudless blue sky.“I’m already worried about her.”
“We all are.”
–——————— ❂ ——————–
Upon the crest of a hill, a wide open plain spread out in front of Kendra. Short, dry clumps of grass dotted the land, and further in the distance shrubs and bushes grew large and squat. Even further, short trees could be seen. The Scrublands weren’t all that dissimilar from the Scorchlands, especially in the areas where they bled together. The whole of the region was available to Kendra, wherever she decided to go.
Scorchland Pass was just a small trading post, and unlike most of the other “Passes” in the Scrublands, not every path ran through it. Perhaps that was the reason it was so small in the first place. It did provide valuable food and drink to travelers through the desert though.
Kendra’s horse snuffled idly at the ground. After only a night’s travel, it was still in good condition and waiting it’s rider’s order. On horseback, traversing the Scrublands wouldn’t take long at all - at least, in some directions. Stretching nearly the entire length of Sedaia, the region was long but it would give her access to the rest of the country.
The answer lies beyond us, a vision told one of the elders of Kendra’s village. This premonition wasn’t distressing news, but the opposite. There was a way to bring life back to their native land. Even if the answer was far away, it existed, somewhere out there.
Everyone that helped load supplies onto Kendra’s horse had a different theory for her. Some suggested she try the Cathedral in the capital, hoping that some higher power would have the solution. Naturally, others strongly recommended against this. Gods or not, the Midlands was home to many people with powerful minds, wallets, and influences.
Of course, there were also those suggested - somewhat bitterly - to go after that mining company that invaded Tailend and started this mess in the first place. Where that group operated from was unknown to the Scorchlanders, but they certainly spoke like Northerners.
A shadow passed overhead, accompanied by a sand eagle’s screech.
♬♩ Lost but not alone, looking for a friend's family:Tala Wranvyre
Far away from Talanashta’s lonely tower, the Croplands were bustling with travelers. In the town right outside her abode, people smiled politely at the mage but otherwise avoided her. On the road, most strangers did the same. Tala’s long hair, strange robes, and avian company had many thinking that she must have been a noblewoman of some kind.
Of course, when she stopped to ask directions the situation changed, and people stumbled over their words in their eagerness to point Tala in the right direction.
More than once passing carriages pulled up alongside Tala, and actual noblemen peeked out from inside to inquire about the bird she carried on her shoulder.
Wicket was a gorgeous animal, but if birds could growl he surely would have whenever the envious eyes of wealthy men swept over his golden plumage. Needless to say, each and every prospective buyer went on their way Wicket-less.
It took a few days of travel up and down the region, but eventually Tala arrived in what might as well have been the largest city in Southern Sedaia: Cropland Pass. It was only through the goodwill of passersby that Tala made it here, but she was here nonetheless. Currently she stood in the center of town, near a large signpost with angular shaped wood pointing in dozens of directions.
There were people all around, moving with purpose. Most were coming from the direction of the massive gate separating the Croplands from the Scrublands, but there were a few headed out as well. On the edges of the streets, there were a relative handful of inns, an armful of taverns, and a barrelful of merchants trading goods with each other and the general populace. Though most were selling the early summer produce of the year, some sellers with clothes the likes many Croplanders had never seen were peddling fabric, jewelry, and animal parts. Children screamed and laughed, family dogs barked and horses brayed, customers haggled loudly and a merry band played music out of sync.
It was lively. Maybe even a bit overwhelming. Thankfully the commonfolk gave Tala space, preferring to brush shoulders with each other rather than risk the wrath of an eccentric lord that preferred travel by foot.
Of course, now that Tala had made it here to Cropland Pass… the question was where was her next destination?
It had been a long time since Tala liberated Wicket from his captors. Wherever the smugglers had come from, as well as their destination, was information Tala had no way of knowing now. Perhaps it was time to consider her options. There was no shortage of people leering at the beautiful hawk perched on Tala’s shoulder, maybe those that were in the market of buying animals knew where they were sold from. There were also plenty of men and women that looked well traveled: traveling salesmen, nomads here for summer work, and many mercenaries stuck at the gate waiting to get in. It was possible any of them knew what Wicket was, and where he came from.–——————— ??? ——————–
“What in tarnation do you mean
we musta missed her?”
“Look, by the time we finally found the damned place again, she - “
“
Look nothin’, if you lot don’t find that woman soon, I’m gonna drag y’all to the Afterrealm myself!”
♬♩ In search of what it means to be a true hero:Derrick Lowborn
The sound of pleasant humming filled the little swamp hut. It was mostly wooden, with an outer layer of mud and clay that formed a domed roof where moss clung, blending the house’s silhouette into the forest around it. The home was even partially sunken into the murky water, but nothing stank or molded inside - at least in places the woman didn’t want it to. There were some uses for a good mold, after all.
Usually there was a rudimentary bridge connecting the mage’s hut to the nearest piece of solid land in the Great Swamp, but today it was mysteriously gone. The woman - dark eyed and short haired - closed herself into her home a few hours before.
Sometimes her humming transformed into song. She softly mouthed the lyrics of a spoken poem from a bygone era, swaying back and forth in the small kitchen that doubled as her work space. For once the sun was shining bright on the Lowlands, and the light cut through the canopy overhead and into the house. It was a warm day, same as yesterday, but it was never unbearable there in the Northern parts of the region. Fragrant flower buds lay on wooden countertops, joined by pungent leaves and the corpses of small animals.“I have such a good feeling about today,”
she sighed to herself. Last night, as comets passed over the Great Deer constellation, the swamp mage had a vision. A premonition, even. A big, bumpy, brown bullfrog inhaling a rush of water, and swallowing its own tadpoles as it did so.
Though she couldn’t say for sure whether it was a sign for caution of celebration, the vision pleased her all the same. “It is my favorite time of year when the spirits fall to the Earth. Lots of potential. For good things, for bad things.”
The woman gingerly lifted a raven’s skull, cooing at it as if it were an old friend. “Let us check in, hmm~?”
Gently, but firmly, she took the skull in both hands and pressed in until the bone snapped and crumpled in her grip. She set the pieces down in a dull ceramic dish, and repeated the crushing motion with a speckled grey egg. The yolk ran yellow and red over her fingers and down until it settled on the bone fragments below. The woman’s face was serene. She smiled and returned to humming as the contents of the dish slowly began to move.–——————— ❂ ——————–
Before Derrick stood a truly insurmountable task. It was an obstacle that separated the the heroes sung about in ballads and the wannabes. A place that put many great men to shame, sending them home with their tails between their legs.
A crossroads.
Well, to say the place where Derrick stood was a true crossroads was disingenuous. On his right was the path out of the Lowlands that everyone took. It was well worn; the divots of carriages gone by prevented the grass from reclaiming the trail anytime soon, and what trees that could be culled had been a long time ago, making the road seem more friendly and spacious. To Derrick’s left was the beginnings of a thick, imposing forest. For anyone else, it would be impassable. However, for those few Lowlanders that spent their lives weaving in and out of the dense swamps it might be possible to cross. Derrick was one such Lowlander.
The swamp witch laughed when she told Derrick about the troubles of peasants that came to visit her. The more powerful people knew better, and it was only as a last resort that they came to her part of the swamp. When they talked about great beasts, she passed the information along to the Scourge. Aftering fighting through what the Lowlands had to offer, Derrick had a few leads outside of the region: a cryptic beast terrorizing the Croplands, where he could quickly arrive if he cut through the forest, a great serpent spotted on the coast of the Tidelands, moving in closer every day, and the exodus of monsters throughout the Scorchlands.
There was no easy way to tell which claims were true or not, or how old they were without seeing for himself: the woman never shared that with him.
Birds squawked at the monster slayer from both directions.
♬♩ Out of the Capitol looking for a permanent escape:Kayliss Lambert
The last few days were hard. When Vashen convinced everyone that Kayliss was a national threat that needed to be eliminated, no one questioned it. With the Celebration of Kings so close, the royal family decided not to panic the civilians with the thought of a dangerous traitor in their midst - but even so, the search for Kayliss was just short of a public manhunt. Guardsmen, royal knights, and Kayliss’ fellow spies were swarming Haydrin’s Seat in pursuit of the woman they’d worked alongside for years. It seemed like every street hawker had a guard in his shadow, and under every festive lantern was the ornate helmet of a knight.
The capitol was covered, but any good sneak knew there would always be a few stones left unturned.“Is that fuckin’ Kayliss?”
One such stone was the performing troupe of one Baldrick Fisher. They were a hard group to pin down, with a member size and base of operations that constantly changed. It also didn’t help that the only crime that stuck to them was public nuisance, so keeping track of the group was considered a low priority. Despite that, many peacekeepers were convinced that behind their badly put together music acts, they were a cunning group of thieves and con artists with branches that reached well outside of the Midlands… but with only coincidences, no hard evidence, it gave the “Fishermen” the freedom to move about Haydrin’s Seat.
Yes, they were hard to find - but Kayliss was a professional.
Was.“Wow, it is. Heard through the lilaberry vine that every tinhead in this place is after you.”
The duo of men snorted with laughter as they took in the pitiful sight of a woman on the run. As far as master thieves went, these two actually looked like stereotypical fishermen - wide hats, light clothes, poles held loosely in their hands and a bucket of dead insects between them. The river that ran through the edge of town was an odd spot to cast a line, but fish did swim the waters, and it wasn’t unheard of that a man could catch his dinner there. Kayliss knew better, though.“Sorry hun, we ain’t hiring right now.”
“Plus we don’t do business with wanted criminals.”
The irony of the first man’s statement brought a smirk to his companions face. “What’d the King ever do to you anyway?”
It looked like the two shady friends had more zingers lined up, but the stone wall behind them shifted. One of the stones sunk away, disappeared, and was replaced by a pair of curious - if mildly annoyed - eyes. When these eyes landed on Kayliss, they widened in surprise. From behind the stone came a muffled voice:“Is that fucking
Kayliss?”
–——————— ❂ ——————–
You want out, I can help you.
Kayliss was ushered into the hidden space behind the wall, dark save for a single sconce far down the tunnel.
I know a guy or two with the skill set you need.
At the end of the cramped walkway, there was a dimly lit elliptical room. Men and women lounged inside, tuning their instruments or otherwise making idle chatter. When Kayliss was brought into the light, they all grew silent.
But it ain’t gonna be free.
At the back of the room, a large bearded man slowly stood up from behind a table that was much too small for him. He was someone that Kayliss would recognize as Baldrick’s lieutenant, and he gave the recently unemployed spy a broad smile.
This is what we need you to do.
That was then, and now Kayliss was stowed away in the back of a family’s covered wagon, on a long dusty road accompanied by soft voices. The Fishermen gave her just one thing besides her means of escape from Haydrin’s Seat: a single golden feather, the only clue to her quarry.
♬♩ Leaving home and following his brother's trail:Jason Miller
When Jason left his family’s small farm in the heart of the Croplands, he was surrounded by people that loved him. What few neighbors were around came by to wish him good luck, and made sure to give him lots of food for the journey. These people had lived in the same spot their whole life, and while their generosity was genuine it was unfortunate that most of the food they packed for Jason wasn’t suited for travel, and would most likely spoil within a few days time.
There was a decent sized chunk of cheese that looked like it would last a while though.
Jason’s parents were as encouraging of their son’s journey as they were sad to see him go. That was to say, they were very emotional. They made sure that Jason had warm clothes, sturdy shoes, and as many coins as they could spare.
Besides the few jeers from a passing carriage when his mother insisted on smothering her taller son into her bosom, it was a touching send off.
It had been months since William’s last letter. The Miller family tried not to let their worry show through in their daily lives, but as time dragged on with no word of their other son, that worry began to eat away at them. That Jason was leaving in search of him brought relief and fear to their hearts. It brought pride too, that they had raised such wonderful boys.
The last few letters his brother sent were tucked safely away on the inside of Jason’s bag, and a woven good luck charm was swinging from the outside of it. It was clear in every line William wrote that the young man was excited at the prospect of becoming a knight. He documented every place he stopped on his way to the capital city, and every interesting thing he saw and person he met. His last letter was slightly wrinkled from wear of the family reading it over and over.
dear ma, pa, and jason,
i made it to the capital. it’s bigger than i ever dreamed of. nearly whole place is made of cobblestone. there are so many people living here too.
i found out where the knights train, but they said they don’t accept just anyone. i have to apply and prove myself. i don’t feel nervous at all actually i’m happy i found them so quick. i’m going back tomorrow to apply for real and i will let you know how it goes. until then i am going to look around the city more, it was too big to see in one day.
you know how they say the world is small? That’s true even in a city so big. i ran into sara, you know the mason’s daughter what used to live down the road? we were both so surprised, i can’t wait to see who else i will meet, especially after i become a knight.
that’s all for now, i still have some money left so i’m renting a room at an inn. hope it doesn’t take too long to get used to sleeping in a barracks!
hope you’re all doing well, love, william
It wasn’t the most exciting letter, but the most important information was there: William’s last known location was Haydrin’s Seat. He’d made it to his destination. So what happened once he got there?
It was a question for Jason to chew on as he passed through the gate into the Scrublands. When his mother couldn’t find a passing merchant to buy the family’s produce, sometimes she would make the trek here - and sometimes she brought one of her sons along with her. It was the same as ever; a loud and rowdy town where hopes floated in the air alongside the shouts of peddlers. Pushing through the crowd of farmers just like him, and some stranger looking people, Jason made it outside where a line was forming in order to gain entrance. The line of people, both civilians and mercenaries by the look of some of them, was pushed to one side. The rest of the road was open, only a girl with two men and a handful of other people heading in the same direction.