Garrick's night was restless, but not from the evil that drips into the sea of his soul; instead, he was excited, at least he construed it as excitement. His mind struggled to set itself on a singular feeling, almost as if the mix of all his emotions warped together, and in the end, excitement was the most dominant and took precedence as he stared into the darkness of his room, so dark he couldn't see the walls or ceiling, so dark it felt like the room stretched on endlessly.
Time was not wasted in his room as he lay in bed. With the little magic he has learned, Garrick focuses on a burnt-out candle and uses his novice grasp of telekinesis to shift it millimetres back and forth as his fingertips emit a subtle glow of blue, tiring him out. An impressively high-tier magic used so pathetically would still be considered insignificant by any aspiring mage for its uselessness. Still, for Garrick, it regulated his mana and helped him avoid another potential magic detonation that lingered on every second of every day.
But the time has arrived. The echoes of pattered footsteps eke down the corridor and join the near silence of the room, and with it, Garrick's heart gets warm and beats fast as he launches himself upwards to his feet, itching for adventure... or perhaps something else. Opening his bedroom door to that familiar blinding light, he squints his eyes as they adjust like last time, and he walks down the hall to the reading chamber of the Sanctum, where everyone stands again. Being the most eager, Garrick is surprisingly the last one to arrive.
"The walking rune dictionary has arrived. Glad you could make it!" Kyra sarcastically shouts as Garrick continues the walk of shame to reach the party.
"Kyra and I are taking different boats to Hjalthor, right?" Garrick raises his eyebrows, verbally jabbing back at Kyra.
"An amusing pair you two are together, and it's very nice to see you in better spirits today, Garrick. Everything is set for your departure." Vyn chuckles as he walks over to Garrick, handing him a small yellow gem-like rock. "This is the item I spoke about yesterday. Keep it safe, and when you locate the primordial artefact, you must smash it against the ground."
Garrick rubs his fingers against the smooth gem as Araval chimes in.
"A captain called 'Dex Bartholemew' will be at the docks. He and his ship will transport you both to Hjalthor."
Garrick picks up the specific wording as he looks in Meetle's direction. He holds his child in his arms, looking at Garrick with a smile that has sadness behind it.
"You look after yourself out there, Garrick. I wish I could save the world with you, but I must stay here with my family." Meetle chuckles as he kisses his daughter on the forehead.
"I hate to admit it, but without the Gnome being there, this idiot will get into too much trouble and I don't feel like being in charge of cleaning that up by myself."
Meetle chuckles at Kyra's comment while she stares deadpan at Garrick, serious with every word she says.
"That's surprisingly kind of you to say, even if it is at the detriment of Garrick." Meetle hands his daughter, Symeera, over to his wife, reaches out to Garrick and shakes his hand as he wipes away a tear from his eye while Jessolyn looks on with a sad face. "You take care of yourself, Garrick. Don't let the Elf pick on you too much."
"Three months stuck with her will be hell, but It's for a good cause." Garrick nods and chuckles with Meetle. The last hearty laugh Garrick will enjoy with his good friend before his departure.
"Friendship is always a pleasure to see. Such a strong bond you two mages have!" Vyn chimes in as Kyra looks at him with confusion.
"They barely know each other! The journey to Hjalthor will be longer than they've been friends for!"
"You sound a bit bitter. Someone one day might like you enough to be sad to be apart from you, but right now, they couldn't be happier to get away from you! I think Meetle's having the vacation of dreams getting away from you!" Garrick giggles with a smirk as everyone has a little giggle at Kyra's expense, who is less than amused.
"Okay, enough laughing. You won't keep up that attitude when everyone's gone. Let's get going already." Kyra snaps back as everyone's giggling slowly stops.
"Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Araval, Lillian, can I take a weapon from the training area to take to Hjalthor?" Garrick curiously asks as Araval opens a portal to the weapon rack, inviting Garrick to take his pick.
"Of course, that's what they're there for. Collecting dust isn't good for a weapon. It goes against what they're designed for." Araval replies as Garrick reaches into the portal and drags out the greatsword he used to train with. Lillian's demeanour shifts partially before settling back down quickly. Araval turns his head and looks at her before returning and closing the portal once Garrick retrieves his chosen weapon.
Lillian opens a portal to the courtyard of their residence, showing a bustling street of citizens as she speaks. "The portal will take you to the street outside our home. We figured reaching the docks and boarding the ship would be a good introductory quest for what will come."
"Are you bringing that sword? You know what? It doesn't matter. Let's go, kid." Kyra shakes her head and grabs Garrick, dragging him to the portal as he waves goodbye. Everyone reciprocates, even Meetle, with his sad face, gaining notice of Jessolyn again as the portal closes.
The sun intensifies on the cobbled street outside as the wind billows fiercely-a perfect day to sail for Garrick and Kyra.
"Okay, let's go!" Garrick roars excitedly, itching for action. "Uhh... which way is the docks?" Garrick's excitement washes away immediately as his sense of direction in this stone maze of Volmyr is less than ideal.
"Just follow me... and to think you wanted to do this journey yourself. You're useless without me guiding you." Kyra jokes, but only partially.
They walked back the path they originally travelled up from, to the best they could remember. The snobby upper-class citizens stared and looked down their noses at the two, also at the ridiculous-sized sword attached to Garrick's back that occasionally the tip scraped the cobbles and scored them. Leaving the upper district felt like a breath of fresh air, back to their people, covered in dirt and grime, not caring what anyone else thought, a much simpler life. Passing by many shops, businesses and houses, even catching a glimpse of the Temple of Volmyr as hundreds of artisans pour in and out of it to pay their respects. Carrying on the tips of masts are seen over buildings as the salty air afflicted by the sea reaches their lips as they instinctively lick them.
"Dex was the captain we had to find, right? There's bound to be a tavern for the dock workers around here somewhere," Garrick looks around for a signpost to guide him.
"You do that; I'm gonna check the docks out and see what I can find," Kyra replies as she disappears into the crowd.
Walking through the streets, Garrick passes shipyards, where a multitude of ships, from small dinghies to massive warships of the Sovereignty fleet, are being repaired. The dust of the central city of Volmyr had gone, but the thriving craftsman was still as prevalent as ever as races of all kinds worked on creating and fixing these ships. Hubbubs, clanging metal, and thudding wood filled the streets as Garrick walked, keeping a watchful eye on signposts or any indication of a 'gathering place' for the sailors. After ten minutes of wandering, Garrick finds a rather run-down building with three stories that lean noticeably to one side, with a slanted swinging sign with 'Sailor's Refuge' written on it with patrons with beer mugs standing and sitting outside, chatting and laughing, beer foam dripping from their mugs onto the worn cobbled steps.
As Garrick walks up to the tavern entrance, the patrons stop drinking and glare at him, practically burning a hole in his head. The inside isn't any different, as the old cliche of an unknown man entering a bar causes everyone to stop what they're doing and stare with curious distaste, with even the slightest cough easily identifiable in the silence. That scenario happens to Garrick, but after the patrons size Garrick up and down, they turn their heads back to their own business, and chatter fills the bar once again.
Garrick carefully places his sword against the wall near the door and heads to the bar, where a female dwarf bartender is chatting with a human sailor. She notices Garrick walking over and speaks up.
"Never seen you before, and if that sword damages the planks, you're paying for it." The bartender speaks plainly, tapping her fingers on the wooden counter and blowing the curly blonde hair out of her eyes.
Garrick sits on a rickety stool, leaning his arms on the counter. "I'm looking for a man called Dex Batholemew."
The human sailor, whom the bartender was speaking to, chuckles and takes a swig of his drink, still laughing, causing it to spray out his nose as the dwarf bartender throws a cloth at his face.
"Clean that mess up, ya messy git! And young man, if Dex owes you money, then good luck getting it back; he owes a lot of people, me included, for running out on an entire night's bar tab for him and his crew." Her words are laced with venom, as this Dex character isn't very popular.
"He doesn't owe me money; I'm meant to be sailing on his ship today. It sounds like he doesn't have many friends around here, though." As Garrick finishes his sentence, the sailor, who spent cleaning himself up, takes another drink and spits it out, hearing Garrick's news.
"Right, numbnuts, git! Yer gonna get the counter sticky, ya idiot!" She shoos the sailor away and wipes the counter as she speaks to Garrick. "Listen closely, you got a raw deal if you gave that man any money 'cause he's a lunatic out at sea, no sense in his head, headfirst into any danger. And that isn't mentioning that he's properly fucked in the head, speaks some amount of nonsense."
"What nonsense does he speak?"
"He was found floating in that Valandras sea a couple years back, speaking a language nobody could understand, going ballistic. Didn't even know our language, had to learn it from scratch."
"Must've been some serious shipwreck to do that to him."
"That's the odd part: not a single piece of ship was near where he was found. Most of it would've sunk, but there should've been something, a plank or part of a sail or something."
"I'll admit, it's a strange story, but that's not someone I'd consider crazy."
"When you get out to see with him, you'll understand, and he attracts the crazies too for his crew, which makes me wary of people who sail with him through employment or refuge."
"You're sceptical of me? You must hate him if being associated with Dex causes you to treat people like that. Where can I find him, and I'll get out your hair."
Garrick leans back, noticing the bartender's eyes shifting to things behind him, and then realises the bar has gotten quiet... eerily quiet. As he turns his head towards the door, he sees a couple of patrons locking it as the other dozen bar patrons are all standing up and stepping closer to him.
"I'm missing something here. Going to tell me why your friends look like they're going to kick my ass?" Garrick puts his back to the counter and places a leg behind a stool, ready to kick it at whoever tries to attack first.
The sound of smashing glass breaks the silence, followed by sharp pain and finished off by blood dripping down Garrick's forehead, muddying his vision. Wobbly, Garrick turns around to see the bartender wiping her hands with a rag, glass covering the counter.
"If you do business with Dex, you're his friend, and that makes you our enemy. So let's make it real simple, and you give us whatever money you have to cover his bar tab." The bartender slings the rag over her shoulder and stares nonchalantly at Garrick, awaiting the response.
End Chapter