Support my main contracted novel and winner of Writing Prompts #26 - The Legendary Mage!
Desolate Mage: A Legend Reborn!
https://www.webnovel.com/book/12013957905760805/Desolate-Mage%3A-A-Legend-Reborn!
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As they were bidding their goodbyes at the edge of town, Sam rushed up to hug them one by one - gently, this time. Caitlyn had chided her firmly and knocked her on the head, saying, "Are you trying to show affection; or give us an early funeral?!? Be gentle!"
Then she had to rub her sore fist; Sam's head was harder than steel...
She ran up to hug Sebastian, but he quickly held her shoulders and kept her at arms length; the trauma still fresh.
"From here until level 5, why don't you join the adventurers guild in Rome? That's the best way to strengthen your Dao-heart, and gain practical and combat experiences - much faster than enrolling in an academy."
Continuing like a freight train, even though he was unsure whether the girl understood him, Sebastian gritted his teeth and prayed as he continued; hoping she would remember at least one word he said.
"But once you're level 5, make sure to choose a class that suits you. Even if you don't have mana, the path of martial arts has no limit to its Dao. The only limit to our strength; is our own hearts."
"Adventurer's... Class... Okay!" Sam gave her usual clueless smile and nodded blankly; as the grey-haired and moustached man joined Sir Jacques and his semi-divine guardian paladin; Jacques was tapping his feet and constantly keeping track of the time; waiting at the town's northern gates impatiently.
Sam had nodded at Sebastian's words; but did not understand anything - just as she had been clueless the countless times the older man tried to speak of his beliefs.
Sam then stood before Romilda, and they bid one another farewell; to meet again soon.
As Sam hugged reached out to hug Romilda, Sam pressed the princess firmly against her chest; and savoured her hairs smell for a moment; causing the shorter Princess no small embarrassment. She blushed and squirmed in an attempt to free herself in an unlady-like manner due to her discomfort.
Once she extricated herself from Sam's hug, she held Sam's hands firmly and said, "Sam, strength comes not only from you. Runes, equipment, followers, status, money. All these are your power as well. Use them well; and you'll have power beyond your level and strength!"
Then she felt awkward once again; as Sam's face was flushed like a girl in love... Romilda quickened her pace to join the rest of the departing party.
Caitlyn now stood before her. Sam was cautious as she reached out to give the middle-aged, brown haired woman of mixed descent a warm embrace. As they parted; Caitlyn tapped Sam's forehead and then her chest - saying, "Knowledge and wisdom, and a passionate heart - these will be your strength as well. Alright...? Don't worry so much; you're still so young! Live freely!"
She ruffled Sam's hair, like how she would ruffle Baron Novius's hair, then caught herself and coughed in embarrassment; before she too stepped away and joined her waiting traveling companions.
Finally it was the Principal's turn. He stepped forward to hug her.
While she stood at a distance and bowed politely.
*cough cough* he returned the bow; trying to recover from his faux pas.
"Young girl, I know I've not been much of a teacher. But if there's one thing I want to share, it's--"
"It's time to leave, hurry up." Paladin Roland reminded.
"--Ahem, one thing I want to share is that; pursuing strength and power is not everything. Even if all you want is to protect those close to you...? You'll eventually realise that there is no amount of power that can always protect everyone."
He sighed.
"I... I don't mean to discourage you, no. What I mean is... Well..." As someone who rarely needed to wax poetic or touch his emotional side; the Principal struggled to find the words.
Finally, as he realised time was ticking away; he spoke: "Sam, those you want to protect...? They want to protect you too. Let them share in your journey; let them be your strength."
Stunned that wise words could leave the perverted old bald man's mouth (all his hairs had fallen since the battle); Sam and the other traveling companions looked on with mouths agape.
Principal Snow had a cocky look on his face; satisfied that he had outdone the others with his parting advice.
Then he remembered something - "Paulos is leaving tomorrow; alright...? Don't forget the letter! Remember to pass it to Principal Azoth." He gave her a last smile. "Study well! Don't be late for the autumn semester!"
They waved goodbye as they started their running journey to Paris - far faster than going by horseback or by carriage. Still, they could only cover 300-400km due to their wounds that had yet to fully recover.
Sam waved goodbye, trying hard to keep smiling; as she considered whether to go to Rome to study; or to join the adventurers guild.
Then she realised.
"What letter...?"
* * * * *
Sam wandered aimlessly around the town for a while; mind vacant - or distracted, thinking about her own next steps [Author's Note: for Sam, thinking = blank... Same thing...]
She'd paced her beat around practically the entire town; including back alleys, sewers and small lanes (and people's houses...).
(Maybe I'll just go home and have lunch at Mrs. Emilda's place...? Oh!!)
The sun had set?!? It was completely dark?? Where'd the time go?
Sam rubbed her head in confusion; not realising that she had walked the city's entire circuit multiple times by now. Since the 3rd round, the children with nothing better to do had been counting how many times she passed by.
Then the kids had begun to follow her around; copying her pose of "hand on chin and forehead down", wondering what she was doing. Until it was time for dinner, and their parents shoo'd them off the streets and back into their houses.
But though she had been almost everywhere; there were some places she'd never been into - until now.
Raucous laughter. The smell of sweat. Sour ale. Plump barmaids, good daughters in the daytime, flirting as much as serving; in the hopes of a tip or to sell another beer. Rough travelers and traders, though rarer in these troubling times, were the main customers; along with the young single men, and the older married men who might as well be single with how often they were here.
The bar.
Sam loved it!
She was laughing out loud, surrounded by a mixed group of men young and old; cheering her on as she valiantly quaffed her mug of milk. She choked; coughing from laughing while drinking - bringing forth a fresh round of roaring laughter from the crowd around her.
Milk, you ask? She's underage still, you know...
Apart from the usual hardened mercenaries and the occasional shifty looking trader who everyone kind of knew was in the shady business; there was someone else who had caught her attention.
An oriental-looking young-ish man with long black hair, covering halfway down his back. He was wearing a cloak with the hood pulled back; showing off model-like looks.
(Handsome...) Sam began to drool.
He was surrounded by a mean-looking group of mercenaries; it was clear they were gambling from the money laid out on the table. Mostly in front of the other men; the oriental man had barely a coin left.
"Well, arr ya gunna play er not...?" The 2nd toughest hired hand seemed to be the spokesperson, if not the leader of the thug-like band. He was shorter than the rest, but built like a beer barrel; and with a face-covering voluminous beard, he looked like a slightly taller dwarf.
Thud!
He spoke these words as he slammed a bluesteel dagger blade-first into the table; the long blade still wobbling from the force which he had used to slam it in.
The black-haired man hesitated; then picked up the dagger for a round of Mumbley-peg; each player taking turns to lay his hand flat on the table, palm down, then to stab the dagger in quick succession between the gaps of his fingers. A dangerous, blood-letting game - one highly frowned upon in Pari.
But with the size of the band of thugs; it was unlikely anyone would speak up.
Except Sam.
Sam began to stand up - but she wasn't quick enough. She was swallowed up in the crowd of sweaty, burly and beefy labourers and farmers; and didn't want to injure anyone in her attempt to help Mr. Handsome #2.
She gulped - Mr. Handsome #2 had picked up the knife and, without warning, stood up and began to play.
Thunk/screech! Thunk/screech! Thunk/screech! A sound different from the sound of metal hitting wood resounded. It was more like metal hitting another much harder metal - and bending from the impact.
The handsome man handed the blade back to the dwarf-like man. The blade was dented and squashed into multiple "Z" shapes, now only 1/4 of its original length.
As the mercenaries stood, mouths agape at the stupendous scene; the handsome man scooped up their coins and ran.
He hadn't actually won; he'd just shocked and awed them into losing focus.
But as some of the younger, more enthusiastic men made to give chase; the dwarf-like man stopped them.
"He dent'd bluesteel with but his skin an' fing'rs - do ya really thunk ya can take some'un like that...?" Khadir, the leader of the band of mercenaries, asked his new members.
Seeing them shake their head blankly; he slapped them on those dumb heads and shouted at them, "Then value yer lives and si'ddown! Imbeciles! Yer gunna die inna week, I tell ya..."
The scene having passed, the noisy atmosphere of the bar returned.
So Sam decided to leave too, bidding good-bye to her friends, before slipping out the entrance and making her way home.
She'd decided to call it a night.
Tomorrow... She'd start the journey to Rome; and register as an adventurer.
As she walked away, she began to hear someone shouting; running after her and trying to call her attention.
She quickened her pace and swiftly disappeared around a corner; leaving the pursuing heavy bartender panting and confused.
"You..." He puffed. "You haven't paid..."
* * * * *
The next morning.
Sam packed her hide-bag once more (replacement for the one she had lost); and bid her housey goodbye once again.
Cat on her head (Sam: You're getting a bit heavy and thick, Snowie...) and wearing her new/ old dress; Sam bid farewell to Stella, Aunty Helga, Mr. Michelin and Aunty Emilda. They shared a tearful goodbye for a good 15 minutes, urging her to take care of herself on the journey east to Lyon.
Sam brought with her in her backpack a well-laden pack of foodstuffs and a water canteen; something she had not remembered to bring on the last fateful journey south.
Wary of being late, she dashed through the town, nimbly avoiding the bustling people filling the streets; and arrived where Paulos' caravan was waiting.
"Ahh! There you are young lady!" Paulos was a jovial, slightly overweight man with a bulging round nose; giving him a very honest look for an ex-mercenary.
Yet despite his rough and tough background; he looked nothing like a seasoned killer, with nary a scar anywhere on his body. He seemed born to be a traveling merchant; exuding the aura of a scamster and salesman... I mean, honest trader.
Also, since Sam had taken to wearing more feminine clothes; people could actually tell her gender - that she was a girl.
"Just in time! Oh, but we have a new addition to the caravan, I hope you'll be alright sitting slightly tighter with Mr. Albert Castro here." Paulos introduced the oriental tall man with long black hair; already seated in one of the cars of the caravan; a travel-weary carriage with many adhoc repairs done to patch it up.
(Oh... He's really handsome...! Even more handsome from up close...) Sam smiled at the new friend and waved; the man waved back at her.
"Hi! I'm Sam! You were at the bar last night, right...? You're really strong! Let's have a great journey together!" She ran over to greet him cheerfully.
"I'm sure we will, Sam. I'm sure we will." The handsome man smiled enigmatically as Sam climbed up to sit beside him in the carriage - the carriage creaked as she climbed up, causing her to feel awkward at her ever-increasing weight.
"That's an adorable kitten you have!" He maintained the smile on his face as he reached out to pet the kitten on Sam's shoulder.
Paulos was performing a last inventory before the caravan set off, while Khadir, the head of the caravan escorts, performed a roll call and assigned guard duties.
As the caravan prepared to depart, Snowie avoided Albert's hand and bit him, hissing.
"Heh heh... Guess she doesn't like me...?" The man laughed sheepishly as Sam gave him a questioning, strange look.
(It's the first time Snowie doesn't like anyone...) Sam was now suddenly suspicious of the man...
Of course, she forgot the first day when Snowie "played" with biting her hand; and ripped apart her steel gauntlets... But that's a story for another day.
And so the merry band of Sam and the travelers, traders, mercenaries, adventurers and smugglers made their way to Lyon; and from there to take a steam train to Italy and Rome.
* * * * *
[Further east; along the train tracks from Lyon to Turin, barely 2 days after Baron Novius and Reeve's group had passed through the narrow mountain pass]
It was a scene of carnage at Saint-Jeoire-Prieuré; the last settlement on the west side of the mountain pass; separating Gallia from Italy.
Dragons.
From a clear sky morning; to the descent of terror; the unprepared citizens of the small town had been scattered and culled like cattle.
Within an hour, the winter and green dragons had flattened the town; and collapsed the entire mountain pass.
They were searching - and they would not cease before finding it.