When the two reached the gate, they were approached by a pair of guards, both wielding halberds. The first, a young man not much older than Mildune, blocked their path and held up his hand, indicating to them to stop. A red cape fluttered from his shoulders as he examined Mildune carefully, before turning to Perin and doing the same.
"Identify yourselves. What are your names, and your purpose for entering the city?"
Perin frowned and glanced towards the second guard, a middle aged man with a pleasant smile.
"Captain Alberch, what is the meaning of this? You know who we are."
The middle aged man chuckled, and stepped forward, patting the young man on his shoulder. "Sorry about that. Our young friend here just passed the guard test this morning, and I'm doing my best to train him. Thought the two of you would be good practice, you see. Need to have him in proper order before I retire next week."
"You're retiring?" Mildune asked, raising his eyebrow. "But you've been the captain of the guard for as long as I can remember. Why would you retire?"
"I have my reasons. The biggest of which is my wife," Alberch grinned sheepishly. "She's been pestering me for a while now, and I finally thought it was time. But worry not, I'll still be around. In fact, I'll be running the old ax throwing stall at the festival. After I turn in my insignia, of course."
Alberch tapped his breastplate, where a pendant in the shape of withered rose wrapped around a sword hung. It was the crest of the Withro royal family, and all of the city's guards were required to have one.
A wide smile spread across Perin's face, and he slapped Alberch's shoulder. "Haha! That is great news! I've been wondering when you'd listen to her."
"Yes, yes. She is quite proud about wearing me down. Well then, there are still more people to check, so we'll let you into the city. I hope you'll both come find me at the festival. I'll even give you a discount on your first three throws."
Albirch and the young guard stepped to the side, and allowed Mildune and Perin to pass, before moving onto to the next people in line. Past the city gates, the road broke off into three streets, each well lit by a series of lanterns. Stores and houses lined the streets, with candle lit windows, and people preparing for dinner. Overhead, colorful banners were strung from roof to roof, and tapestries flapped in the wind, already displaying what wares would be sold during the festival.
Perin yawned, and shook his head. "Well, I'll be off now. Being as old as I am, I get tired a lot earlier than a young man such as yourself, you know."
"Alright, then I'll see you in the morning. Have a good night," Mildune said, waving his hand in farwell. Splitting from Perin, he followed the road to the right down past the stores, and into the residential area.
Cobblestone houses led him further into the city, until at last he reached thesection that broke into two story homes, upon which he walked to the third house on the right, and made his way up the steps.
Pushing the door open, he was met by a warm room lit by a fireplace, and the smell of stew cooking in the kitchen. Mildune pulled off his pack, and set it beside the door, before making his way down a narrow corridor, and into the dining room.
"Mildune? Is that you?"
An elderly man came bustling out of the kitchen, weighed down by a steaming pot of stew. He was quite a bit shorter than Mildune, coming up to only his elbows, though his full head of hair made him seem taller.
After setting the pot on the dining room table, the old man glanced at Mildune and frowned. Pulling off his spectacles, he fogged the glass and rubbed them on his shirt, before pushing them further up his nose. His frown deepened.
"What happened to you, my boy. You're covered in dirt! When was the last time you took a bath?"
Mildune groaned. "I've been busy, uncle. Surely it's not that bad. Now, what's for dinner? I'm starving."
Mildune started towards the table, but his uncle stepped in front of him, and blocked his path. "No dinner for you. Not until you go wash up, that is. Your food will still be here once you're done.``
"But-"
A sharp look quickly shut Mildune's mouth, and he turned away with a sigh. His uncle may have been old and short, but he still possessed enough strength to give a beating.
"Very well. I'll go wash up, but please leave me something. I really am starving."
To enhance his point, the moment Mildune turned around, his stomach rumbled, loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Behind him, he heard his uncle laugh, and the sound of two bowls clattering onto the table.
"You better hurry. Your friend, Roalin, stopped by earlier, and asked me to tell you he wishes to meet at the tavern when the bell strikes nine times. He looked pretty excited, and kept figeting about, so I think he has something to tell you."
His curosity piqued, Mildune hurried to the bathroom and stripped off his clothing. One small tub of water, and a quick wipe down later, and he was free of the dirt clinging to his skin. Donning a new set of clothes, he made his way to the mirror and checked his face, which was handsomer than most, if he did admit himself.
"Hmm, what's this?"
Mildune raised his hair, frowning as he noticed two small bumps on his forehead, growing above his brow. They weren't large, and if he pulled away, they blended into his skin, almost as though they were not actually there.
"That's strange… When did I hit my head?"
Mildune tentatively prodded one of the bumps, but it didn't hurt. It was the same with the other one as well.
"Mildune? Are you almost done? If you take too long, your dinner will get cold!"
Mildune jumped, and pulled back from the mirror. After a moment's hesitation, he covered the bumps with his hair, and blew out the candle. He decided to check on them again later, and hoped they would be gone by then.
Back in the dining room, Mildune scarfed down what little was left of the stew, before grabbing his coin pouch and running for the door.
"I expect these dishes to be done when you get back!" His uncle shouted as he burst out the door.
"Alright! I'll see you later!" Mildune shouted back, before closing the door and taking off down the street. In his hurry, he missed the dark shadows, streaking across the sky.