Kneeling in the biting cold, Asdras felt his hands numb from the frigid snow as he scrubbed away the remnants of their failed trap. Each stroke of his hands was more than just an attempt to erase the physical evidence of their misadventure — it was a futile effort to cleanse himself of the lingering sting and the harsh reality of their actions settling in with every movement.
He glanced over at Brian, whose own face mirrored his frustration and regret. What had begun as an evening filled with laughter and excitement had quickly devolved into a moment of quiet reflection beneath the pale winter sun. The yellow liquid seeped into the pristine white snow, creating a stark and unsettling contrast. Asdras couldn't help but feel the weight of responsibility pressing down on him, a burden that was slowly dawning upon his youthful shoulders.
"This," Asdras said sternly, his eyes fixed on the spreading stain. "Never again."
The cold reality of their situation gnawed at him, but so did the pangs of hunger. Their bellies grumbled loudly.
The savory aroma of ham wafted through the air, mingling with the fresh, earthy scent of greens. The satisfying crunch and hearty flavor were always a welcome reward after their grueling workouts, offering a brief respite from the relentless demands of their training.
Brian's face twisted in disgust as he scrubbed the ground, eager to finish the task. "You really want to go there?"
Without a hint of hesitation, Asdras replied firmly, nodding in agreement. "Yes."
As they scrubbed and scraped away the evidence, their conversation naturally drifted to thoughts of the uncertain future that lay ahead — like a winding river with many branches, each representing a different path they could take.
"It's the best place to discover myself," Asdras mumbled, lost in thought, his mind racing with possibilities and fears about what the future might hold.
Brian paused, spreading his arms and looking thoughtfully at Asdras. "Y'know, Asdras, I've been thinking. How about this? When we grow up, we become adventurers, explore the world, have epic battles, and uncover wonders, just like Miss Ellena, huh?"
A grin spread across Asdras's face as he playfully elbowed Brian. "Sounds like a plan. Miss Ellena, huh? You've got guts, fancying a lady in her late twenties when you haven't even grown a proper beard yet!"
Brian puffed out his chest, a smug look on his face. "Aw, c'mon, Asdras, you'll never grasp the fine art of a refined fella like me. Guys like us are as rare as hen's teeth, and Teacher Ellena is one fetching lady, no doubt about it!"
Asdras chuckled, shaking his head. "I wish you luck then," he said, glancing over at the church in the distance. "By the way, is it true we're heading to Baurus next week? I miss it."
"There or that lady?" Brian asked, examining his friend. "With her flowing, curly golden hair, a face that could charm the birds, a body that'd make Cupid blush, and a grin that could melt an iceberg!"
Suppressing a laugh, Asdras retorted, "Shut up, idiot!"
The memory of their recent rescue weighed heavily on Asdras. After being saved from the failed trap, his health had declined rapidly. With no alchemists in the village to tend to him, they had all headed to the city in search of help.
While being examined in the alchemist's store, Asdras felt a strangely familiar yet distant sensation when a girl his age entered.
During the examination in the alchemist's store, Asdras had felt a strangely familiar yet distant sensation as a girl his age entered the room. He had never seen her before, but his instincts told him she could help him. Learning that she was enrolling in the academy solidified his decision that day.
"And you?" Asdras asked, standing up and stretching.
Brian shrugged nonchalantly. "No change of heart here. I'm heading to the military. The old man might want me to go to the academy, but my sights are set."
As the church bell tolled through the courtyard, its deep chime slicing through the crisp midday air, Asdras and Brian exchanged quick glances, their expressions a mix of surprise and amusement.
"Finally," Brian sighed in relief. "And, oh, yes! Once the Deliverer arrives, we're hitting the city, my friend! We'll be filling our mouths with our own two hands at last!"
With the bell's echo fading, Asdras turned his attention back to the freshly cleaned courtyard. The wooden traps and lines they had set earlier were meticulously restored, and the faint scent of the stinky herb had completely dissipated.
"Let's eat," Asdras said with a satisfied grin, nodding towards the village pub.
The familiar gathering at the Waystone Inn was a comforting sight. Though only twenty in number, they represented more than half the village's population, their presence filling the room with a warmth that contrasted sharply with the cold outside. The air buzzed with hushed excitement, anticipation palpable as they awaited the Deliverer's news.
As the crowd settled, the anticipation grew with the arrival of the Deliverer. Clad in thick, weather-beaten leather garments and dark cloaks that blended seamlessly with the shadows of the wintry night, the Deliverers were formidable figures. This rare breed, chosen by the church, braved perilous terrains to bring essential goods and a breath of the outside world to isolated communities.
Raffin, a seasoned traveler with tales as vast as the skies, held the title of Deliverer. His rugged face was etched with lines that spoke of countless adventures, and his sharp, knowing eyes had seen the farthest corners of the realm. Each wrinkle and scar told a story; his presence exuded a wealth of untold tales.
He was not just a carrier of goods but a bearer of news, a storyteller who transported the villagers to places they could only dream of.
"So there's this farmer, right? Good ol' Tom. Tom had a cow named Daisy, but Daisy wasn't like the others; she had a hankering for apples!"
Curiosity sparked in Asdras's eyes as he listened to the ongoing story.
"Apples?" a kid asked, wide-eyed.
"Aye, you heard me right, kiddo. Apples! Tom would wake up each morning, go to the barn, and what'd he find? Daisy munching on apples like she was at a pub!"
Brian giggled, nudging Asdras. "Hey, ol' Raffin! How'd she get them?
"That's the mystery, little one. No one knows. Some say she found a secret treasure. Others blamed ol' Tom for lying," Raffin sighed. "But here's the kicker: every night, Tom would hear a strange sound outside, like a low growl, and he'd find Daisy mysteriously disappearing! Now, where could she be going?"
"It's a creature of the night, I tell ya!" A farmer whispered fearfully to his friends.
"Well, seems like we've got a storyteller among us," Raffin winked at the farmer. "But don't you worry, folks, Tom has a plan! One night, he's out there, and what does he see? Daisy wandering in the dark woods, a big juicy apple right on her noggin!"
"An apple on her head?" Asdras mumbled, confused.
"That's right! But not just any apple, mind you. This one was special — it had eyes! Can you believe it?" The deliverer spread his arms dramatically. "Tom thought he was losing his mind. He said, 'Daisy, what in tarnation are you doing with an apple on your head?' And you know what she did?"
"What, what?" the children urged him to continue.
"She turned and dashed at ol' Tom," Raffin raised his voice. "Now here's where it gets even wilder. That apple, folks, wasn't an apple. It was a worm! A sneaky critter that lures you in with that juicy apple, then... Well, you'll see, you become like Daisy!"
"Like a cow?" Brian asked, incredulous.
"No, idiot," Raffin grinned. "You become an aimless figure, with no thought other than wandering among the trees, searching for herbs to serve as food for the worm!"
Asdras couldn't suppress a chuckle, shaking his head.
"It's a creature of the night, like I've been sayin'!" the farmer hollered, spilling his ale over the table.
"Raffin." Joe coughed discreetly.
Raffin gestured for silence with a hush and a raised hand, signaling something important to share.
"Listen," he tapped on the counter. "The Church predicts the next Eruption may occur this solstice. The military will come and enlist the youths to go to Baurous, either joining them or the Academy."
As Asdras absorbed the news, a chilling silence swept through the room. The jovial atmosphere turned somber, and laughter abruptly silenced, replaced by hushed whispers of concern. The weight of the announcement sank in as the villagers grappled with the looming shadow of war.
Father Joe looked over the young faces in the crowd, stopping on each with measured intensity.
"Do you understand what this means? It's a difficult path, I know. But it's also a chance to better your lives and change the fate of this village."
Asdras watched as Father Joe's face became a canvas of conflicted emotions, his eyes bearing the heavy burden of unspoken fears. He had heard about it before, the necessary evil, a bitter pill they had to swallow for a chance at a better future.
"I still recall," Father Joe sighed. "Numerous figures rose, and with that, several places benefited from improvements and hope for a better life. As everyone knows, our distant neighbor was rewarded and transformed into a town because one person received the title of champion, Gravious."
"Can you imagine it?" Father Joe's eyes sparkled with a glimmer of hope. "Better seeds, tastier milk, and no more need for the Deliverer to bring us pills. This is what we need to aim for."
The silence in the room grew heavier, suffocating every breath. The women, hands trembling, set their mugs down gently. The weight of sending their loved ones to war pressed upon them, their hearts burdened by a mix of defeat, anger, and uncertainty.
They understood the gravity of the situation and the unyielding power the military held over them, leaving them grasping for words and actions to change their fate.
"Uncle Raffin, are you aiming to stop coming around these parts?" A boy interrupted the solemn air.
Raffin chuckled, addressing the young boy with a light-hearted tone. "Oh, it's you, Cabbage Boy. Yeah, I guess. The Deliverer must be replaced at each full moon. Someone else will bring the goods and news."
"Don't we have any say about sending the young ones away?" a woman asked shyly.
"You know it isn't up to us, Bettie," a man said gravely. "If we hide, we'll lose the goods and tonics, and we won't make it till winter. That cursed fog will take the young ones if we don't go through with it."
Asdras watching the people he knew felt a knot form in his stomach, the reality of their situation pressing down on him like the heavy winter snow. He saw as Father Joe and Raffin exchanged a knowing glance.
"You all know, I've been talking about this every week," Father Joe said, scratching his beard. "Sure, there's danger, but the good it brings can change our village. This isn't the usual draft. This time, they'll make sure our village is safe and even send a medic to stay with us until the eruption is over."
"Purty words, preacher, but we know the odds of kickin' the bucket 'fore we get hitched are plumb higher," someone shouted from the back.
Asdras watched as Father Joe quietly made his way to the exit, motioning for Raffin to follow. Despite the priest's eloquent speech, he couldn't ignore the threat of war creeping into the peaceful village. It felt like massive boulders rolling down a mountain — and that made his mind alternate between himself, his lost memories, and the people inside the tavern.
As the door closed, a stir rippled through the gathering. Heated discussions and debates erupted, filling the room with energy. Fists pounded on tables, echoing through the night. The shattering of glass signaled the late hour, ending the young ones' day. The adults couldn't contain their emotions and voiced their thoughts.
Brian poked Asdras with his elbow, eyeing the door. "Come on, buddy, let's go!"