As the carriage crested a final hill, the City of Purewood came into view. For Gareth, the sight of the city stirred a deep sense of nostalgia. The familiar outline of the wooden palisades, the modest stone buildings, and the narrow winding streets brought a pang of longing to his heart. For Luke, however, this was an entirely new experience. The city lay sprawled out before him, less grand than the cities of his world but rich with a unique charm.
The wooden walls surrounding Purewood were sturdy, yet unpretentious, bearing the marks of years of repairs and reinforcements. They stood as silent sentinels, a testament to the city's resilience against countless threats from the east. Beyond the walls, the city's rooftops were an uneven patchwork of thatch, wood, and the occasional stone chimney puffing out wisps of smoke. The city, more like a large town by Luke's standards, bustled with activity.
The streets, though narrow, were alive with the sound of daily commerce and chatter. Vendors called out their wares, children chased each other through the alleyways, and the clatter of horse-drawn carts echoed off the stone and wooden facades. The market square, visible from their vantage point, was a hive of activity. Stalls overflowed with fresh produce, meats, and handmade goods, while townsfolk haggled over prices with a familiarity that spoke of a close-knit community.
The air was thick with the scent of baked bread, roasting meats, and the earthy aroma of freshly turned soil. Intermingled with these were less pleasant smells—dung from the livestock, the sweat of labourers, and the faint stench of the nearby river, which flowed sluggishly along the city's edge. Despite this, there was an underlying freshness to the air, a sharpness that hinted at the dense forests that surrounded Purewood.
Gareth took a deep breath, allowing the scents and sounds of his home to wash over him. It had been too long since he had last walked these streets, seen these faces, and felt this sense of belonging. He glanced at Luke, whose wide-eyed wonder at the scene before him was unmistakable. This was Luke's first real glimpse into the world of Purewood, and it was clear he was trying to absorb every detail.
The buildings, while sturdy, were not grand. Many were made of timber, their thatched roofs a testament to the simplicity and resourcefulness of the city's inhabitants. The stone buildings, fewer in number, were mainly civic structures: the mayor's office, the small chapel, and a couple of inns that served the occasional traveller or merchant. The city's modesty was evident, but so was its warmth. There were no grand palaces or towering spires here, just homes and shops built close together, fostering a sense of community.
As they drew nearer to the city gates, Gareth could see the familiar faces of the guards stationed there. They stood a little straighter at the sight of the returning knight, their expressions a mix of respect and curiosity. The gates themselves, though solid, were simply adorned, swinging open to welcome the weary travellers.
Luke, still taking in the scene, asked quietly.
"Is this it? The City of Purewood?"
Gareth nodded, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Yes, this is it. It may not be grand, but it's home. And it's worth every effort to protect."
The carriage rolled through the gates and into the heart of Purewood. The sights, sounds, and smells of the city enveloped them, marking the end of their long journey and the beginning of a new chapter in their shared adventure.
As they made their way further into the city, the clatter of hooves and the rumble of the carriage wheels were suddenly interrupted. A man, appearing to be in his forties, stepped onto the road, his presence commanding attention. He was clad in the same knightly armour Gareth had worn when he and Luke first met, a familiar yet striking figure.
Tora came to an abrupt halt, his large paws skidding slightly on the cobblestones. The tiger's nostrils flared as he sniffed the air, then lowered his head submissively as the man reached out to pet him. It was a gesture of mutual respect and recognition, one that instantly dispelled any tension.
Gareth, peering out from the carriage, broke into a smile.
"Sir Carrick!" he called out, his voice carrying a note of relief and warmth.
The man, Sir Carrick, looked up and his stern face softened into a welcoming grin.
"Gareth! It's been far too long since I last saw you," he said, his voice resonant with familiarity and concern. As Sir Carrick's eyes fell upon Gareth's bandaged leg, his expression grew serious. "What happened to you? That looks like a nasty wound."
Gareth shifted slightly, trying to make light of it.
"Just a run-in with a Plyburg. I got lucky, thanks to this man here." He gestured toward Luke, who was watching the exchange with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
Sir Carrick's gaze turned to Luke, his eyes filled with gratitude.
"So, you're the one who saved our Gareth. I owe you a debt of thanks." He extended his hand to Luke, who shook it firmly. "I can't thank you enough for saving my most promising young knight from danger."
"It was nothing. Just sheer luck," Luke felt a bit embarrassed by the praise.
Sir Carrick laughed heartily, clapping Gareth on the shoulder.
"Luck or not, you've done a great service. But Gareth, how is it possible that you obtained your knighthood yet still manage to find trouble so easily?"
"I suppose I've still got a lot to learn, Sir," Gareth winced slightly, both from the jolt and the teasing.
"Well, it's good to see you back. Both of you. Let's get you both settled. We'll need to have that leg of yours looked at properly," Sir Carrick shook his head, smiling fondly.
"Thank you, Sir Carrick. I appreciate it," Gareth nodded gratefully.
With the carriage fixed and their journey nearly complete, Luke and Gareth were finally on the last leg of their trek. The city of Purewood welcomed them with open arms, and the presence of Sir Carrick was a comforting reminder of the safety and camaraderie that awaited within its walls.
As they continued their way through the bustling streets, Luke couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging start to take root. This was a new world, but one that he was beginning to understand and become a part of, all thanks to the friends he had made along the way.
The carriage came to a halt outside a wooden building with a sign above the door displaying a symbol that Luke assumed was the Iatspich equivalent of a clinic. The structure was unassuming, its wooden planks weathered and sturdy, giving it a rustic charm. The air was filled with the scent of herbs and the faint antiseptic tang common to medical facilities.
Sir Carrick took the lead, assisting Gareth as they made their way inside. The interior was clean and orderly, with several beds lining the walls, each occupied by patients in various stages of recovery. Nurses bustled about, tending to the wounded and ill with practised efficiency. As Sir Carrick entered, the atmosphere shifted. Heads turned, and the staff's attention immediately focused on the new arrivals.
"Sir Carrick," one of the nurses greeted with a respectful nod. "What brings you here?"
Carrick gestured to Gareth, who was leaning heavily on him.
"Gareth needs attention. His leg's taken a nasty hit."
The nurse nodded and quickly moved to help Gareth to an empty bed. The other nurses and a doctor hurried over, their concern evident. Luke observed the scene with growing admiration. It was clear that Sir Carrick commanded great respect here.
The doctor, a middle-aged man with greying hair and a kind face, introduced himself as Doctor Noble.
"Let's have a look at that leg," he said, carefully unwrapping the bandages.
As the wound was exposed, Dr. Noble's experienced eyes assessed the damage.
"You've done a good job keeping it clean," he noted, glancing at Luke and Gareth. "It looks like it started to heal before getting aggravated again. Nothing too serious, but it will need proper care to heal completely."
Gareth winced as the doctor gently probed the area.
"I had a run-in with a Plyburg. Got a bit too close for comfort. And then the carriage broke and threw me off, making the wound reopen."
"Yeah, those creatures are no joke. You're lucky it wasn't worse. We'll clean it up and get you some fresh bandages. You should be back on your feet in no time," Dr. Noble nodded, his expression sympathetic.
As the nurses began to work on Gareth's leg, Sir Carrick stood by, watching with a protective eye.
"Thank you, Doctor," he said, his tone reflecting his gratitude.
Luke, standing nearby, felt a sense of relief wash over him. The journey had been arduous, and the constant worry about Gareth's injury had weighed heavily on his mind. Seeing Gareth receive the care he needed brought a newfound sense of hope.
The doctor continued to work efficiently, cleaning the wound and applying a fresh bandage.
"There, that should do it," Dr. Noble said, stepping back to admire his work. "Just make sure to keep it clean and avoid putting too much strain on it for the next few days."
"Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate it," Gareth nodded.
Dr. Noble smiled.
"It's my job. Take care of yourself, Gareth. And you too," he added, looking at Luke. "You both have been through a lot."
"Let's get you home. The City of Purewood awaits," Sir Carrick clapped Gareth on the shoulder.
As they prepared to leave the clinic, Luke couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. They had overcome numerous challenges, and now they were on the brink of reaching their destination. The sight of Gareth being cared for and the respect shown by Sir Carrick and the medical staff reinforced Luke's belief that they were not alone in this world. They had allies, and they had each other.
The journey to the City of Purewood had been long and difficult, but it had also been filled with moments of camaraderie and kindness. As they stepped out of the clinic and prepared to continue their journey, Luke felt a renewed determination. The City of Purewood was within reach, and with it, the promise of new beginnings and the hope of a brighter future.