The night had ended, and the village was empty.
Today was the day in which the friends of the village, the Bear Merchants, had arrived—as per a tradition practiced since the early days of their inception.
Everyone was in the local pub, the sounds echoing throughout the otherwise empty town.
Inside, wooden tables were pushed close together, with every seat occupied by men and women whose voices mingled into a vibrant symphony of laughter, conversation, and the occasional clatter of mugs and cutlery.
The warm, flickering light of lanterns cast a soft glow over the room, illuminating faces flushed with joy and camaraderie.
The rich, savory aroma of stew and roasted meats filled the air, mingling with the sweeter scent of freshly baked bread.
Near the entrance, children darted between tables, chasing each other in a game of tag, their shrill laughter a high note in the chorus of the pub.
At the center, a group of older men toasted loudly, their tankards sloshing with mead as they celebrated some half-forgotten story of past glories. To the side, a young couple sat closely, whispering quietly to each other, lost in their own world amidst the chaos.
Amidst this sea of familiar faces, the Bear Merchants had settled at a large table near the hearth, their presence commanding attention without them needing to speak.
The leader of the group, a hulking man in his signature bear coat, sat at the head of the table. He laughed heartily, his deep voice booming over the noise as he tore into a roasted leg of lamb with the gusto of a man who had seen many harsh winters and appreciated every bite of warmth.
Beside him, a thin man leaned back in his chair, his keen eyes scanning the room even as he nursed a glass of red wine. The silver monocle perched on his right eye gleamed in the daylight, giving him an air of sharp, calculated intelligence.
The woman of the group, elegantly dressed with her fiery red hair cascading down her back, engaged in light banter with the villagers who approached, offering her compliments and warm smiles.
She handled each interaction with the practiced ease of someone born into nobility, her words flowing smoothly, turning every encounter into a pleasant exchange that left the villagers charmed and the Bear Merchants' reputation bolstered.
Across from her, the portly man in fine clothes, who oversaw the group's finances, enjoyed his meal with a contented sigh, his cane resting against the table.
He savored every morsel, occasionally chuckling at the conversations around him, his jovial nature infectious to anyone nearby.
To his right, the young swordsman, still in his leather armor, ate quietly but with a visible appetite, occasionally casting appreciative glances toward the barmaids who hurried past.
The Hunter family, seated at their own table not far from the Merchants, observed the scene with a mixture of curiosity and contemplation.
William's eyes, sharp and attentive, flicked between the various members of the Bear Merchants, assessing them just as much as they were assessing him.
His father, James, seemed more relaxed, watching the villagers interact with their new guests, occasionally nodding in approval at the sense of unity and festivity that filled the room.
Julie, though quieter, found solace in the lively atmosphere, her gaze occasionally drifting toward the red-haired woman, admiring the poise and confidence she exuded.
It was a brief but welcome distraction from the weight that had been resting on her heart since Emily's departure.
After yesterday's discussion, and a good night's sleep, the family had decided to enjoy the company of the villagers for one last time.
Their conversation with the Bear Merchants would happen only after this welcome morning meal.
Time slowly passed, and before they knew it the pub was empty.
It was now time for the women and children of the village to return to their regular morning routines, whilst the man would trade in the favor of the morning meal for necessary supplies with the merchant group.
James, Julie, and William each patiently awaited the men to conclude their transactions. They were assured the merchants approval by Rheala, however the truth would soon be known.
As the men retrieved boxes of goods from the carriages of the merchants, they returned to their families, and so the Bear Merchants prepared to set off.
"Excuse me," James yelled, attracting their attention.
Facing James, the bear coat man waited curiously.
"Would you mind us accompanying you? We're foreigners to this village and were advised by Rheala to join you." James explained.
The large man appeared slightly surprised, before replying, "Rheala told you? You mean the quiet old mage in the crooked tower?"
James nodded suspiciously.
The man stared at his side, receiving a nod from the silver monocle wearing man.
"Guess we might as well, since Goldfield agrees." He said, before beginning to introduce his companions.
"I'm Bjorn, the proud founder of our group. This here is Goldfield, don't mind his absent-minded gazes, he only has the best at heart," he paused, facing the women to his left.
"This here is Miss Cassandra Fairwyn, the only noble-born of our group," then he gestured at the armored young man packing their things.
"He's Leon, a new hire. He'll be protecting us until his contract ends," finally, he pointed towards the inside of one of the larger carriages from the three they had.
"Inside there is Harold. He's in charge of our group's finances."
Shaking hands with Bjorn, and then with the noble lady, James introduced himself and everyone else.
"I'm James, and this here is Julie, my wife. The young man over here is my son, William," he said, gesturing to them one by one.
With the formalities out of the way, and after a quick round of handshakes with everyone, Bjorn ushered the family into the smaller carriage, explaining that they can relax there until they're ready to head off.
Each carriage had two horses at the front, with enough space inside to carry four individuals.
There was a third carriage, however it only had a single seat and was used to carry their merchandise. It would follow behind them with Leon guiding it and observing any threats.
Inside the carriage within which James, Julie, and William were in, there was Goldfield.
As Leon and Bjorn packed the remaining things, Goldfield discussed with James.
"So, what exactly is your situation?" He asked, curiously.
"We were sent here by a beast of sorts. It used magic, powerful stuff according to Rheala, and sent us to this continent." James explained.
At his words, Goldfield only grew more curious.
"Then where are you originally from? If you don't mind me asking?"
A knock was heard on the door, followed by Bjorn's stern instructions.
"Sorry to interrupt, but we're ready to go."
Goldfield sighed in disappointment, exiting the compartment with a swift farewell.
James, feeling a bit squashed at his positioning, swapped places with Julie whilst they had the chance.
Cassandra took her seat next to Julie, while Goldfield moved to the front of the carriage, grabbing the reins and guiding the horses forward at Bjorn's command, who sat atop the other carriage with Harold inside.
The loud breathes of the horses sounded, as their hooves pressed against the ground. And so, the group took off into the forest.
Cassandra was much less questioning than Goldfield, only exchanging a few simple introductions before engaging in idle discussions with Julie.
William glanced out of the small window at his side, watching the trees pass by.
Shifting his hands, he noticed a small bulge in his right-side pocket. A small envelope slipped out, stamped with a name in the bottom.
'Rheala Rose, Special Mage' William read silently.
It was a recommendation letter to the academy, slipped in without him ever noticing.
Although annoyed at the idea that he would have to take care of this object for the upcoming weeks, he was still thankful to the old mage—keeping a mental note to repay her in the future.
Finding nothing better to do, William brought his attention to Cassandra and Julie's conversation.
"It's fascinating, really," Cassandra said, her red hair catching the dim light filtering through the trees. "Every region has its own way of doing things, but what truly sets them apart are the little nuances, the unspoken rules that shape everyday life."
Julie nodded, absorbing Cassandra's words. "I can imagine. We've had to adjust to so much already—this land feels like an entirely different world."
Cassandra leaned back slightly, her expression thoughtful. "It's not just the big things, like their magic or hierarchies. It's the subtleties—how people greet each other, what they consider valuable. Even the food tells a story. You learn so much just by watching, by paying attention to those little details."
Julie smiled, appreciating the insight. "It's a lot to take in, but it's also exciting. We've had to learn on the fly, but I think we're starting to understand more each day."
Cassandra's eyes flicked to William for a moment, as if she sensed he was listening in. "You're adapting well, considering everything. Not everyone would handle it as gracefully."
William gave a polite nod, staying quiet. He didn't mind being part of the conversation without being the center of it. There was a strange comfort in hearing about the world through Cassandra's perspective—a traveler who had seen much but remained genuinely curious.
The carriage rocked gently as they continued their journey. Goldfield's voice occasionally drifted back from the front, discussing the route with Bjorn, who sat atop the other carriage. Meanwhile, Leon kept a vigilant eye on the surroundings, scanning the forest for any signs of danger.
"I once met a people who had never come upon magic, could you imagine that? Their whole culture was based upon non-magical traditions and trait-less customs. It was an enlightening experience," Cassandra shared, her voice tinged with nostalgia.
"I remember first casting 'Fireball' to light our campfire as we passed by, not knowing the significance of the act to the locals. They were amazed—it was quite humbling to see something so basic bring so much wonder," she continued.
Hearing the mention of one of the 'Three Basic Spells,' William's interest piqued, and he leaned in. "You know magic?"
Cassandra chuckled lightly. "I was taught a long time ago. My parents hoped I'd attend the Academy in our city, but I chose a different path."
"What about you?" she asked, half-jokingly.
William hesitated briefly before replying, trying to downplay his abilities. "I've managed to learn the basics, just the three spells from a book called 'Basics of Magic' by Maelis Valtara. I've only been practicing for a little while, though."
Cassandra raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "How old are you? If you don't mind me asking."
"I'm sixteen," William answered, feeling a bit self-conscious. "I know it's not much, especially considering how little time I've had."
Cassandra shook her head with a smile. "Sixteen is young, especially for someone with no formal training. Most noble-borns only know the basics by your age, and they've been learning since they could read. For you to have come this far on your own, it's impressive."
William offered a modest smile, grateful for her encouraging words. "I've only been learning about magic for a month. It's still new to me."
Cassandra blinked, clearly stunned. "A month? That's remarkable. Most take months just to cast the simplest spells. It's perfectly normal to struggle—"
William quickly interjected, hoping to clarify, "I'm not perfect at them or anything. I'm still learning and refining, but I've managed to cast the three spells—though not consistently. I thought it was normal, just… lucky, I guess."
Cassandra looked at him thoughtfully, appreciating his humility.
The conversation lulled as the carriage pressed onward, the rhythm of the horses' hooves and the occasional creak of wooden wheels filling the silence.
William leaned back, the weight of everything he had learned in the past month settling in his mind. He couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and anxiety about what lay ahead.
The mention of the Criweth Royal Academy and the recommendation letter tucked in his pocket seemed like distant promises, yet they were the only clear paths forward in an otherwise uncertain journey.
"Will," James spoke up, breaking the quiet. He had been quietly observing, his mind on the future of his family. "How do you feel about all this?"
William glanced at his father, knowing that James was asking about more than just the journey.
"I'm… hopeful," he admitted. "There's still a lot we don't know, but I think we've already come a long way."
James nodded, satisfied with his son's answer. Julie, still deep in conversation with Cassandra, caught William's eye and gave him a reassuring smile.
Despite the looming uncertainties, there was a comforting warmth in her expression.
The carriages rolled on, the forest thinning as they approached the outskirts of a larger road.
Bjorn called for a brief halt, and the group took a short rest by the roadside.
William stretched his legs, feeling the cool breeze sweep past, carrying the scent of pine and distant rain.
As they prepared to resume, Bjorn approached the family. "We'll be hitting a small town by sundown. It's a trading post, good place to stock up on supplies and rest for the night."
Julie nodded appreciatively. "Thank you for letting us tag along. We really didn't have a plan before Rheala suggested this."
Bjorn shrugged. "We're all travelers here. You learn to help when you can."
With that, they set off again, the landscape painted in hues of orange and gold, despite the two suns remaining proud and still in the sky.
William watched the shifting scenery, his thoughts drifting back to Emily. He hoped she was safe and adjusting to her new reality, wherever the church had taken her.
He knew she was strong, but a pang of guilt still tugged at him for not being able to protect her in the way he wished.
As the light faded, the carriages finally rolled into the trading post—a small, bustling hub with travelers, merchants, and townsfolk mingling in the last light of day.
The Bear Merchants pulled up near the entrance of an inn, the wooden sign above creaking softly in the wind.
The inn was modest but inviting, with the warm glow of lanterns flickering through the windows.
"We'll stay here for the night," Bjorn said, dismounting and helping Harold down from the carriage. "Get some rest. Tomorrow's another long day."
The Hunter family followed the merchants inside, the inn's cozy interior providing a much-needed respite from the road.
William took a moment to appreciate the small comforts—the crackling fire, the soft chatter of other guests, and the faint smell of freshly baked bread wafting from the kitchen.
They found a table near the back, and Bjorn joined them briefly to discuss the plan for the following day.
"We'll be heading towards Millwind City. It's the westernmost city in the Criweth Kingdom, a hub for traders and travelers. A good place to get your bearings."
"Millwind?" William asked, recognizing the name from the book he had read. "It's a significant city, isn't it? We might find some useful information there."
"Exactly," Bjorn confirmed. "It's busy and well-connected. If you're looking to learn more about this land or find opportunities, it's a good starting point."
As the evening wore on, the inn gradually quieted. The Bear Merchants retired to their rooms, and William found himself sitting by the window, looking out at the night sky.
The two stars, one red and one white, hung above, radiating an unfamiliar glow, yet having no effect on the world below.
He reached into his pocket and felt the envelope, the sealed letter from Rheala resting within.
William tucked the letter back into his pocket, his resolve strengthening.
Whatever challenges lay ahead, he would face them head-on.
For Emily, for his family, and for himself.