All at once Alder woke up. He wasn't sure where he was, or how he got there. All he knew is that he was laying on something very comfortable and there was a warmth in the air. It reminded him heavily of home.
"What happened?" He thought to himself, snapping a quick look around. He was in a small room, where a couple candles were ablaze. They flickered a dull orange and cast large shadows over the sparsely furnished bedroom.
Alder sat up in shock. He was certain that he was just in the forest. The last thing he remembered was escaping the life to death struggle with the goblin and making his way towards the village.
He remembered it all. The whole ordeal from start to finish. And he cried. He cried for his family, his friends. At never getting it back. The bed he was on was the most comfortable he had ever experienced, but it was nothing compared to his home. Nothing compared to the bedtime stories with his father or the cuddles with his mother when he was scared.
He looked down at his hands, surprised to see that his wounds had already begun to heal. Some of the smaller ones were fully healed already, leaving behind faint white lines or holes where the goblin had scratched or bit him.
He threw his legs over and stood, his feet dangling off the tall bed as he looked for his shoes. Someone had taken them off. Sure enough, they were next to the door, covered in dirt and dried blood.
Alder stood and made his way to the rickety wooden door, putting on his shoes before opening it to step out into the hallway. It was narrow, and from the stairwell to his left he could tell he was on the second floor of a building.
Laughter and loud voices came from downstairs, mingling with the smell of alcohol and food. An intoxicating combination that made his stomach growl all the harder. It had been days since he ate anything. His hunger pushed him to move downstairs, taking slow careful steps, as if he was entering a forbidden area.
He was all too aware he was a child. A fact that had been crushed over the past couple of days but children weren't typically allowed in taverns or inns. It was a place for the adults. A place for people like his dad...
The light of many lanterns and a large open flame hearth filled his eyes, showing a scene of boisterous debauchery. Men and women mingled together, huddled around small tables. They laughed and talked. Some of them seemed angry, or sat eating or drinking alone. There must have been thirty or so people in the small tavern, almost every chair filled. The bar maid worked diligently, dashing here and there to fill tankards or bring out food. Some of the more drunken patrons tried to make a pass at her to which she would deftly dodge or smack aside.
He stepped from the stairs, dodging around a large fat man who reeked of cheese as he made his way upstairs. Alder's heart beat fast. He was in shock. He didn't know who brought him there or why. Hell, he didn't know where the hell this tavern was. He didn't know anyone in there as far as he could tell.
He was used to seeing the same few faces of his village, and from the looks some of the adults were starting to give him he could tell they were used to the same.
A loud female voice called out nearby, drawing his attention. She yelled, "boy! boy! come here!"
Alder turned and his heart lifted slightly, seeing a familiar face. It was the stranger who had given him the dagger. Who sent him off on his own. He wasn't sure whether he should feel anger or gratitude towards her. It was clear she had brought him here, had likely saved him. But, she had sent him to a likely death to begin with.
He didn't have anywhere else to go so he approached the table she was sitting at. There were a couple other people at the round wooden table but they were having their own conversations, and she near pushed a bearded man off his chair telling him to make space for Alder.
The man grumbled and was about to bark back when he met her eyes, and he relented, picking up a large tankard to move elsewhere. Alder avoided the gaze of the man as he took his spot, looking up to see the blue eyes of the woman staring down at him.
"Aah, look at you!" She said, jovially, giving him a firm grasp on the shoulder, "With your wounds I would have thought you would be out for days. She looked him up and down, eyeing the faded scratch marks and bites, spending a particularly long time on his shoulder, where the goblin's blade had cut deep.
She seemed lost in thought for a moment, as if she had had a revelation of some kind, before an ill fitting smile crossed her face and she said, "worry not. You are on the path to being a true warrior child.. Not many your age have killed a goblin. Let alone a grown ass man."
Her loud statement drew the attention of several patrons seated nearby. They all turned to listen, most with disbelieving faces. They all eyed Alder, as if sizing him up in some way. It made him uncomfortable.
She pressed on though, "My name is Helda. An Adventurer. You are lucky lad. You almost died."
Alder didn't need to be reminded. The vision of the gnashing teeth and beast like eyes trying to kill him sent a shiver down his spine. He didn't say anything for a moment and Helda asked, "And your name kid?"
He replied with, "Umm.. Alder.."
"Alder.." she echoed, nodding as she took a large gulp of Mead, "A fair name... Alder Goblin Bane eh?.. well little Alder, your belly is telling me you are hungry. Dinner is on me tonight, as well as the room. But don't expect this sort of treatment forever... Oi! A nice plate for the lad here!" She said, beckoning at the bar maid loudly.
Alder felt good that he was getting food. That someone was taking care of him. The day before he was sure that he would have to scavenge through the village for spare potatoes or something to get by.
Instead, the bar maid brought out a platter of bread, cheese, and a lamb shank for him. He stared in awe at the meal. He had never had such a large piece of meat before. Something as fine as that was a luxury to his family, only the blacksmith or tavern owner could afford such a thing regularly.
He looked up at Helda with a look on his face that said, "Is it really okay that I have this?" She looked at him for a moment questioningly before realizing what he was worried about, saying, "Aah yes I told you it was on me.. Eat!"
She turned back to a conversation she was having with another woman, who was far daintier than she. Alder listened as he picked up the cheese first, nibbling on the hard chunk as Helda rattled on.
"Aah but of course I'm an Adventurer! I am on my way back to River Farly, to turn in a contract." The other woman gave a surprised, "really!" As Helda continued, "By my blade I say.. Of course That city is thirty miles away, but is a straight shot from here have you been? No? Best apples this side of the Great River."
All the talk of Geography piqued Alder's interest. He had heard scant tales from his father of the places beyond the village but even he knew little about the actual land itself. All he knew was that the Tax collectors of their Kingdom of The White Blade would show up yearly to collect from the villagers. Everyone hated them, especially his father who would curse under his breath and get into arguments with his mother about the amount they had to pay.
A single tear fell into his food as he remembered those days. Such vague memories. He tried to hold onto it. But the image of them both dead in the dirt kept resurfacing.
He fought back crying. Fought it back so he could eat, so that he wouldn't cause a scene amidst the sea of adults all around. He just wanted to have his meal and go to bed. He just wanted to have his family and friends back.
...
Helda saw it all. She saw the way Alder carried himself. The way he coped with the extreme loss. It reminded her a lot of herself when she was his age. She had faced something similar, but it wouldn't do to tell him about it. To try and comfort him too much. That would be doing him a disservice. She knew that.
Instead, she drank and ate. She gave him food and a bed. A simple comfort that meant more than whatever words she could give him. She wasn't his parent nor ever could be. Nothing could replace his loss. She knew that all too well.
Still it shocked her. Alder sat eating his meal quietly. He was tired, and beneath it all was a dying kid. Dying in a way that normal people couldn't Get. His childhood was dying, his essence, his foundation. It may be more apt to say that he was changing.
But something worried her as she watched out of the corner of her eye. The scar... She had never seen a wound heal that fast ever...
...
Alder finished his meal and sat relishing in the feeling of a full belly. The aftertaste of the seasoned meat hung in his mouth and he washed it down with large gulps of watered down alcohol. A weak mulled wine to be exact.
He had gotten used to the atmosphere, in all its rambunctious chaos. A man nearby struck a mild conversation, more condescending than anything, about the goblin he killed and where he was from. "Oh GlenBury eh? Small town I hear. Simple folk." He said in response to Alder telling him where he was from.
It was all he could do not to scream at the fellow, to lash out. His words ignorant, that carried with them a disrespect for the dead. Not that the fellow knew the entire village had been massacred.
Even with the goblin he seemed skeptical and questioned the validity of it. Who wouldn't when they hear an 8 year old has slain a monster? Especially one from GlenBury...
Instead he kept his calm. he curiously asked about the area, retorting with childlike questions of the scenery, the food, and whether there was some sort of ancient ruins nearby.
The idle chatter kept him going, as the minutes passed and his eyelids grew heavier and heavier. He learned a lot from the older fellow and every answered question changed his perspective on the world a little more.
The world itself was a lot larger than he originally thought. A lot bigger. The area he had grown up in was but a dot on the map for the kingdom, let alone the continent. The man didn't know much beyond the other nearby cities though.
In the middle of it all a sound silenced the room. A long figure seated in the middle of the room had struck a chord on a lute.
"Aah, this bard is good. Have a listen kid." The man said to Alder, beckoning towards the elaborately dressed man. He was sitting on a table, overlooking the crowd all around. He tuned a couple strings and played a few more notes before his lure began to sing.
It was a slow, but gleeful melody that was accentuated by his tenor singing tone as he began,
"Far west,
Past the sea lies a land,
Of riches and splendor untold,
And in the middle a continent of sand,
Of a heat both emblazoned and bold.
Where a king of an empire once ruled
A leader kind and true of heart,
But cruel was life as he was fooled,
By his brother and stabbed in the heart!
In dying breaths he reached for his crown,
And let out a curse on his brother and kin,
That the kingdom would crumble, fall down,
And desolation would come from within.
The brother paid him no mind,
And lifted the crown on his head,
Then the castle crumbled and left behind,
But a pitiless mountain of dead..."
The cold meaning of the words rung true with Alder. He wondered about the story of the song but didn't get to wonder long as the bard broke into a catchy tune that had the people in the tavern singing along loudly.
He got up then and approached Helda, who was dancing around a table and said, "Can I sleep now?"
She didn't stop to look as she said, "Do what you want!" He nodded and turned, escaping away from the noise and the chaos.
He made his way up the creaky stairs back to the bedroom he came from, opening the door to see the comfortable bed. He sauntered over and kicked off his boots, plopping down on the thin mattress that felt like heaven to him.
He laid there, thinking about his world for a moment. He thought about his friends and how they did not get proper burials. He had to do that. But then the ballad the bard sang drifted into his thoughts and it filled him with questions, and was the last thing on his mind as he fell into a dreamless sleep.