The bard's voice carried effortlessly over the lively murmur of the inn's early morning patrons. His lute sang alongside him, creating a melody that danced in the air, its playful notes lifting the spirits of everyone within earshot. Lyra, seated near the warm glow of the hearth, found herself caught up in the energy of his performance.
"Oh, the adventurer roams where the brave dare not tread,
Through forests of green and where monsters have fled.
Their blade strikes true, their courage renowned,
In the heart of danger, their glory is found!"
His words painted vivid images of daring quests and triumphant heroes. The bard's animated delivery and knowing winks to his audience elicited laughter and cheers, the room alive with camaraderie. Even Lyra, who had arrived feeling burdened by the whispers of her armor, found herself smiling faintly.
"And when the day's trials finally give way,
To the comfort of friends and the close of the day,
We'll raise up a glass to adventures untold,
And dream of new stories, both fearless and bold!"
The bard finished with a flourish, bowing to an eruption of applause. Lyra clapped quietly, appreciating the light-hearted moment. As he stepped down from his makeshift stage, he moved through the room, basking in the praise of his audience. When he reached her table, she inclined her head.
"Thank you," she said softly, her tone genuine.
His grin widened. "Songs are meant to lighten heavy hearts, miss. If yours feels a bit less heavy now, then my work here is done." With that, he moved on, his lute slung casually over one shoulder.
The song lingered in Lyra's mind as the morning bustle of the inn carried on. It wasn't just a distraction—it was a reminder that life wasn't all about battles and danger. Moments of levity, of connection, were just as important.
After finishing her breakfast, Lyra stepped outside into the crisp morning air. Ashmore greeted her with a chorus of activity. Merchants called out their wares from wooden stalls, and villagers hurried to and fro with baskets of goods. The town was modest, its cobblestone streets lined with sturdy homes boasting thatched roofs and flower boxes. Yet, despite its simplicity, Ashmore felt alive.
Emmy walked beside her, carrying a small basket of vegetables she had purchased from the market. The younger girl had settled into life in Ashmore remarkably well, helping the innkeeper's wife with cooking and cleaning in exchange for their room.
"Do you really have to head out to the forest so soon?" Emmy asked, her voice tinged with concern.
Lyra nodded. "The ruins might hold answers, or at least clues about what's happening. The sooner I start, the better."
Emmy frowned but didn't argue. "Just… be careful, okay? I know you're stronger now, but you're still…" She trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought.
"I will," Lyra promised. She glanced at her sister, whose expression softened. "And you? Are you settling in alright?"
Emmy's face brightened slightly. "The innkeeper's wife said I'm a natural in the kitchen. I think she was just being nice, but it felt good to hear."
"She's not wrong," Lyra replied with a faint smile. "You've always been good at making things work."
They strolled through the marketplace together, the bustling sounds of trade and chatter filling the air. Lyra couldn't help but admire Emmy's resilience. Despite everything they'd been through, she was finding her own way to contribute.
"I'll manage things here," Emmy said as they reached a stall selling dried herbs. "You focus on what you need to do. I'll make sure there's always a place for you to come back to."
The words settled warmly in Lyra's chest, a quiet reassurance that steadied her resolve.
After dropping Emmy off at the inn, Lyra made her way to the adventurer's guild. The wooden building was small and unassuming, but inside it bustled with activity. A handful of adventurers huddled around tables, exchanging stories and tending to their gear. Lyra approached the guildmaster, a stout man with a graying beard who looked up from his paperwork as she approached.
"You're new," he said, his voice rough but not unkind.
"Just arrived," Lyra replied. "I'm looking for information about the northern forest. I heard there are ruins there."
The guildmaster leaned back in his chair, frowning. "The northern forest is no walk in the park, lass. It's dense, shadowed, and easy to get lost in. Those ruins? Bad news. People talk about strange happenings there—whispers, shadows moving where they shouldn't. Most who've gone poking around come back empty-handed. Or worse."
"That doesn't scare you?" a voice chimed in from behind her. Lyra turned to see a tall woman with a bow slung across her back, her sharp eyes appraising.
"Not really," Lyra replied evenly.
The archer smirked. "Good luck, then." She walked off, her confidence palpable.
The guildmaster chuckled. "You'll need more than courage out there. Best stock up on supplies."
"I will," Lyra said.
She spent the rest of the afternoon preparing for her journey. She purchased fresh provisions, extra bandages, and a new waterskin. Though the ruins were only a few hours away, she wasn't taking any chances. The whispers from her armor had quieted since their arrival in Ashmore, but the foreboding feeling lingered.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, Lyra returned to the inn. Emmy greeted her in the common room, her apron dusted with flour from the day's work.
"Long day?" Emmy asked as Lyra sat down across from her.
"Busy," Lyra replied. "But productive. I'll head out tomorrow morning."
Emmy frowned but nodded. "Just don't push yourself too hard."
They ate together in comfortable silence, the crackling of the hearth filling the room. Emmy spoke of her day in the kitchen, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of pride and exhaustion. Lyra listened, the warmth of the moment easing the tension in her chest.
As the evening wore on, the bard's cheerful tunes drifted through the air, a reminder of the lighter side of life. Lyra found herself gazing into the flickering flames of the hearth, her thoughts turning to the challenges ahead.
Tomorrow, she would step into the unknown again. But for now, she allowed herself a moment of peace, surrounded by the quiet comfort of the inn and the steady presence of her sister.