One week had passed since we decided to journey to the capital. Today is the day we finally set out. The morning sun is just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a golden glow through my bedroom window. I finished packing the essentials for the trip and made my way downstairs. The scent of breakfast still lingered in the air, a comforting mix of bread and warm soup, and the faint chatter of my family filled the house.
Downstairs, I found Father, Mother, Aunt Lyshia, and Chris busy with preparations. They were diligently organizing our supplies, their faces showing a mix of excitement and nervous energy. As they noticed me, they turned with smiles.
"Will, you're up early," Father remarked, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Are you really that excited about heading to the capital?"
I couldn't help but chuckle. "Aren't I the one who should be saying that to all of you?"
Their laughter filled the room, a comforting sound that eased some of the tension I hadn't realized I was carrying.
Father gave me a nod. "Well, since you're up, why don't you give Chris a hand with the food supplies?"
"Sure," I agreed, moving to help Chris, who was struggling with a bag of provisions almost as big as she was.
"We only need enough for five days," Father continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "We'll stop in the city of Craud to restock, so there's no need to overpack."
Chris and I began organizing the food supplies, packing dried meats, bread, and some preserved vegetables Mother and Aunt Lyshia had prepared. The kitchen was filled with the smell of fresh bread, and the sight of neatly wrapped food gave a sense of order amidst the chaos of preparation. When we finished and the others were done with their tasks, we prepared to depart.
Outside, the morning air was crisp, and the sky was a clear blue, promising good weather for travel. We loaded the supplies onto the carriage, its wooden frame creaking slightly under the weight. The carriage itself was modest but sturdy, its wood polished to a dull shine from years of use. Father headed to the shed to fetch Pride, our horse.
Pride wasn't just any horse. I named him Pride because he was known for his, well, pride. He wouldn't let anyone but Father ride him. I remember the first time I tried; he bucked me off without a second thought. It felt like he had given me a disdainful look afterward, as if to say, "Know your place, human." Since then, I couldn't help but admire his spirit. Father led him out with a firm grip on the reins, and Pride seemed almost regal as he stepped into the harness.
With the carriage prepared, it was time for farewells. Mother and Aunt Lyshia stood side by side, their eyes glistening with a mixture of pride and sadness.
"Chris," Aunt Lyshia said, her voice wavering slightly as she placed a gentle hand on Chris's shoulder. "Don't cause any trouble while traveling, okay? And don't give Will any headaches at the academy. Behave yourself."
Chris looked up at her mother with a pout. "I know, Mama. I'll be good."
Aunt Lyshia's expression softened. "We're not going to see each other for a year, so take care of yourself. Always remember, I love you."
"Yeah, I love you too, Mama," Chris replied, her voice small as she hugged Aunt Lyshia tightly.
Mother turned to me, her eyes intense with the authority of the Sword Saint. "Will, you must protect Chris. Promise me you won't let any harm come to her."
I nodded, feeling the weight of her words settle on my shoulders. "I promise, Mother."
Her stern expression softened into a rare, warm smile. "Also, take care of yourself. Follow what you believe is right, and remember, I love you."
"I love you too, Mother," I replied, feeling a lump in my throat.
After our farewells, Father and the two women exchanged a few words of parting, their conversation laced with unspoken concerns and hopes. Then, it was time to go. The carriage started to move, and I watched as Mother and Aunt Lyshia's figures grew smaller in the distance, their hands waving until they were nothing but tiny specks against the vast sky.
Inside the carriage, Chris and I sat on the floor, our bags beside us. Father took his place at the front, holding the reins with a steady hand. The carriage swayed gently as we moved along the dirt road, the wheels crunching over small stones. For the first hour, the view outside was nothing but endless grassy plains, a sea of green under the bright sky.
I glanced at Chris, who seemed just as bored as I was. "Want to practice magic to pass the time?" I suggested.
Her eyes lit up immediately. "Sure!" she exclaimed, excitement bubbling in her voice.
We spent the next few hours casting spells out of the carriage's window, small bursts of light and energy that faded into the open air. Father occasionally turned around to give us advice, his voice carrying a note of nostalgia as if our attempts reminded him of his younger days.
By noon, we stopped under a large oak tree to have lunch. Father carefully guided Pride to a halt, and we laid out a blanket on the grass. The shade of the tree offered a cool respite from the sun. We unpacked the meal Mother and Aunt Lyshia had prepared, their cooking filling the air with a mouthwatering aroma. We ate in a comfortable silence, enjoying the taste of home in every bite.
Afterward, we continued our journey, the afternoon sun casting long shadows on the road. Chris and I resumed our practice, while Father occasionally chimed in with more pointers, his voice keeping us company as the hours passed. When night fell, we pulled the carriage off to the side of the road and set up camp. Father gathered firewood while Chris and I arranged a small bonfire.
Dinner was a simple affair, the warmth of the fire warding off the chill of the night. When we finished, we returned to the carriage to sleep. Chris and I laid down on the floor, now covered with a blanket to cushion our rest. Father, however, chose to sit at the door of the carriage, his back straight and eyes alert.
"Are you not going to sleep?" I asked, concerned by his rigid posture.
"I'll sleep while sitting," he replied calmly, his gaze fixed on the darkness outside. "That way, if anything happens, I can react immediately."
"Isn't that hard?" I pressed, unable to imagine getting any rest like that.
He gave a small, reassuring smile. "Not at all. I'm used to it from my days on the battlefield. You learn to sleep lightly when your life depends on it."
There was a quiet strength in his words that made me see him in a new light. This wasn't the frail, unreliable father I was used to; this was a man who had faced danger and come out the other side. As I lay down, I couldn't shake the image of him sitting there, ever vigilant, protecting us. For the first time in a long while, I felt a deep sense of security, knowing he was there.