"Damian," Andrew said softly, his voice tinged with sorrow, "I know you won't be able to understand this, but if we stay with you any longer, trouble awaits us."
"But… alright," Damian said dejectedly. As he spoke, Elara stepped forward and said, "Good job for surviving this far." With a pout, she immediately turned and started walking west
"That was the first time she ever complimented me," muttered Damian.
Seeing this, Andrew burst into laughter and gave Damian a hearty slap on the back.
"Ouchhhh!" screamed Damian.
"Looks like she's taken quite a liking to you," Andrew said with a cheerful grin.
"You think so?" Damian asked.
"Absolutely! Until we meet again, Damian. May fate bring us together once more," Andrew said, then dashed off to catch up with Elara.
As the sun blazed high in the sky, casting sharp shadows, Damian waved off at Andrew. Once Andrew was out of sight, Damian's demeanor shifted dramatically.
"Finally," he hissed.
"We've separated."
"It's such a pain to pretend to be nice and friendly with them," Damian muttered, his voice now chillingly cold.
"No way am I going to trust anyone again. Not after what she did," he growled, Emma's image haunting his thoughts.
"Emma, I swear on my name, Damian Blackwood," he vowed, his eyes dark with vengeance. "I shall not rest until I find you. No matter what world you're in, no matter which dimension you hide in, I will find you and end you."
"Now, from what I've been told, this world known as Elaria is completely different from the world I come from, and so is their society. If I want to survive in this new world, I have to get familiar with my surroundings."
Damian recalled his conversation with Andrew the previous night. Andrew had mentioned that heading north from here would lead to the kingdom of Aranthia, a place known for its towering castles and bustling markets. Damian knew that if he wanted to blend in and gather information, Aranthia would be the perfect starting point.
So he picked himself up and a bag that Andrew had given him before he left. The bag contained supplies such as beasts meat gotten from the beasts killed
and a storage container filled with water from the stream they found inside the forest when they were running away from the beasts.
To be honest, Damian didn't know where they had gotten the materials to create the bag and the container from, he had just looked way because he thought he heard something and when he looked back, the bag and container came to his view and when he asked Andrew and elara where they had gotten it from, they straight up ignored him. After that, Damian didn't care anymore about it's origin as he needed the container to remain hydrated.
"They really are good people, aren't they?" Damian thought, a pang of sorrow in his heart. "Well, too bad."
"It's people like them that don't survive in this world," he mused, feeling a deep sense of pity for their kindness in such a harsh reality.
Nowwww, back to the main story. Damian set off on the dusty road, the midday sun beating down on him.
As he walked, he took in the scent of nature, the type of nature that was free from the smell of beasts and horrific incidents.
Four hours later
"What the hell!!!" Damian shouted in frustration. "No one told me the journey would be this long!"
"I've been walking for four hours straight and haven't seen a single thing! Not even a beast roaming around."
He kicked a rock in annoyance. "Andrew said that while there are areas where beasts tend to stay, some of them wander off in search of prey. So where are they?!"
"Anyway, I'm surprised this body can hold out for so long without rest," he muttered.
"But that can't be said for my food supply," Damian sighed, feeling the weight of his dwindling provisions.
Just as he was about to give up hope, he stumbled upon a small village nestled in a valley. The sight of it brought a mix of relief and apprehension. He could see smoke rising from chimneys and hear the distant sounds of people going about their daily lives.
"Finally," he thought, his steps quickening. "Maybe I can find some answers here"
But just as he entered, all the locals in the village suddenly stopped what they were doing. Whether children or adults, they all halted and turned to look at Damian, their eyes blank and devoid of emotion. The silence was as eerie as a graveyard.
This type of silence was like torture to Damian, and he wanted nothing more than for it to break.
It seemed his prayers were answered, but not in the way he hoped. A low, guttural growl echoed from the shadows, sending a chill down his spine. The villagers remained motionless, their eyes still fixed on him.
Damian's heart pounded as he scanned the area, trying to locate the source of the sound. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the darkness, cloaked in tattered robes.
"Welcome, traveler," the figure rasped, its voice like nails on a chalkboard. "welcome to our village."
Damian took a step back, and took a good look at the figure.
The figure appeared to be an old man, his face etched with deep wrinkles and his body so frail it seemed as though it might collapse at any moment. Yet, the aura he exuded suggested he was the village chief.
"Umm, thanks for the welcome, I guess," Damian said, still feeling suspicious of the village.
"There's something I would like to know, and I was hoping I could get some information here," Damian continued.
"Oh, is that so?" the village chief replied. "Then follow me. I would be more than happy to answer your questions."
Damian nodded and followed the village chief, not letting his guard down for a second.
As they walked away, the villagers continued to watch them with eyes that made Damian feel like prey.
"Hey, village chief, are the people here always like this?" Damian asked.
"Oh, don't mind them," the village chief replied.
"We don't usually get many visitors, so they tend to act like this whenever they see someone new."
"Okay then, I'll believe you," Damian said, though his wariness remained.
They soon reached the village chiefs home.
The village chief's home was a stark contrast to the rest of the village. It was a large, ancient structure made of dark, weathered wood, with intricate carvings adorning the door and window frames. The roof was thatched with thick, dried reeds, giving it a rustic yet imposing appearance.
As Damian stepped inside, he noticed the interior was dimly lit by flickering candles placed in ornate holders along the walls. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and old wood. The floor was covered with woven rugs, and shelves lined the walls, filled with dusty tomes and strange artifacts.
In the center of the room stood a large, wooden table, its surface cluttered with maps, scrolls, and various alchemical tools. A fireplace crackled in the corner, casting eerie shadows that danced across the room.
Despite the home's age and the chief's frail appearance, there was an undeniable sense of power and mystery that permeated the space.
"Sorry if the space is too crowded for your liking, I didn't really have time to prepare for a guest such as your self" said the village chief as he chuckled to himself.
"Oh it's alright, I kinda like it" said Damian.
"Alright let's get started" the village chief said as he led Damian towards the living room.
"Camila!!!" The village chief called out
Out of nowhere, a young woman appeared, her presence almost ethereal. She had long, dark hair and piercing green eyes that seemed to see right through Damian. She moved with a grace that was both unsettling and mesmerizing.
"Yes, Chief?" she asked, her voice soft but carried an edge of monotone.
"Please bring us some tea and the map of Aranthia," the chief instructed.
Camila nodded and disappeared into another room. Damian couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. There was something about her that made him wary. Because even while she was talking to the village chief, her eyes never left him.
"I don't need the tea, I only need the map" said Damian as he decided to trust his guy feeling.
"Oh nonsense, how can I bring a guest into my home without some sort of refreshments" said the village chief.
Before Damian could respond, Camila returned with a tray of tea and an old, weathered map. She placed them on the table and took a seat beside the chief, her eyes never leaving Damian.
"Here is the map," the chief said, unrolling it carefully. "Aranthia is a kingdom also known as the information centre."
"It is a place where all sorts of trade can be conducted, one can trade items for information, information for trade and the norms"
"It is also a place that is welcoming to all races, whether humans, elves, even demi humans are allowed and so on"
"If you want to reach the kingdom from here, it will take approximately two days assuming you don't take any breaks."
"Thank you for the information" Damian said as he took the kingdom, stood up and was about to leave
"Wait Damian, remember Aranthia is a place where information Is traded for, and I just fulfilled my end of the deal"
"It's time for my pay," said the village chief, a crooked smile spreading across his face.
An ominous feeling washed over Damian as his head started spinning, too dizzy to see clearly.
'But how? I didn't drink the tea,' thought Damian as he tried to keep himself conscious but to no avail.
"You know," the chief continued, "this tea is a specially potent drink. When concocted correctly, it can knock down a third-tier beast with just one sip."
"But there's something you should know. The material used to prepare this drink is extremely rare."
"And even if you don't drink it, you can still be affected by its smell if you're within proximity."
"You should feel honored that I wasted such a precious material on you, something that could have been used for far better purposes."
Those were the last words Damian heard before he fell unconscious.