It has been three days since my hunt back then. After two full days of storms, the sky finally shines bright.
"Well, it's a bright day to start a journey."
During the storm, I prepared the things I would take to the capital.
Well, even though I couldn't bring much. Just some clothes, a map, weapons, and money.
Oh, I also made sure to bring the badge and a letter from Grandpa Gorath for his friend—what was his name again—Zaroth?
If I'm not mistaken, that's his name.
Their names—somehow—sound unique. As if they have a strong impact.
"Sigh"
I sighed and looked around the house for the last time. So many memories had been created here with Grandpa.
When I was seven, he brought me here. He raised me, an orphan, with everything he had. Although the training he put me through was so tough that it often made me want to cry and scream every day, those were beautiful times.
Grandpa might have seemed intimidating and aloof, but behind that face was a genuine love. He understood when I struggled and always knew how to make me laugh.
Rather than a grandfather, he felt more like a father to me. Now, as I prepare to leave, my heart is filled with gratitude and sadness. The memories we shared will always be cherished, giving me strength to face the outside world that awaits.
I stepped out of the house and began walking to Uncle Gord's bar.
"Good morning, Eira."
"Good morning."
Along the way, several people greeted me warmly.
After walking for a while, I finally arrived at the bar and opened the door.
Creak
"Good morning, Uncle Gord."
"Eira, you're here. Sit over there and wait a moment."
"Alright."
I sat on a wooden bench while waiting. The atmosphere in the bar was very quiet in the morning, with only faint sounds coming from the kitchen. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, providing a bit of comfort amid the silence.
As I gazed at the walls adorned with old photos, my thoughts drifted back to the beautiful memories at home. It felt strange to be here, as if I were waiting for something uncertain.
"Good morning, Eira. Are you sure you want to go to the capital? You can stay here."
"Morning, Aunt Maria. Hehe, Grandpa told me to go, so I will."
"I see. I'll miss you, dear. Oh, and hurry and give this to her."
"Yes, yes, I was going to give it to her even without you telling me."
Uncle Gord handed me a paper bag and a pouch filled with money.
"That's food for you to eat on your journey to Gothel. I cooked it myself, so you don't have to worry about whether it will taste good or not."
"And this is from me, extra pocket money for you."
I looked at both bags in my hands and alternated my gaze between the two of them.
"Thank you so much, Uncle Gord, Aunt Maria."
"You're welcome."
"Be careful on the road. Do stop by occasionally or send a letter."
"Yes, definitely."
After saying my goodbyes to both of them, I hopped onto the horse-drawn carriage to head to Gothel.
The journey would take half a day, so right now I just needed to relax while waiting to arrive at my destination. The carriage moved slowly, and the gentle breeze refreshed my face.
I opened the food package from Aunt Maria and saw some sandwiches and potato and chicken croquettes. The aroma made my stomach growl. As I enjoyed my meal, I admired the beautiful winter scenery of the forest.
.
.
.
After several hours of traveling by horse-drawn carriage, I finally arrived in Gothel City.
This city is the largest in the Northern Lands, serving as the main trading hub with access to railway transport. The surroundings were bustling with activity, filled with merchants, visitors, and horse-drawn carriages passing by.
Wait—was that a car?
"Amazing," I whispered, fascinated by the new vehicle I had never seen before.
Dong dong dong
The sound of the clock tower's bell echoed in the air, marking six o'clock in the evening.
"Oh no!" I muttered in a panic.
Without a second thought, I hurried through the bustling streets of Gothel City. My steps felt quick but not quick enough. Merchants were closing their stalls, market visitors were thinning out, and gas lamps began to light up one by one along the cobblestone streets.
My eyes scanned for a sign of an inn. I only had a few hours to rest before the long train journey the next morning. Finally, at the end of a narrow street illuminated by lamp light, I saw a wooden sign swaying in the wind: White Ivory Inn.
"Finally," I breathed a sigh of relief and stepped inside.