As we sat at the small wooden table, waiting for Clara to bring our food, I leaned back in my chair, watching Nessa as she took in every detail of the restaurant. Her earlier joy still lingered in her expression, her eyes bright and full of energy.
"Do you like the city?" I asked, folding my hands on the table.
"Yes," she said immediately, her voice brimming with excitement. "It's really full of people... and dreams!"
Her answer caught me off guard for a moment, but then I smiled, nodding. "Glad you like it," I said. "But listen, I need you to understand something."
Her focus snapped to me, her hands resting on the edge of the table. "What is it?"
"I can pay for your Academy tuition," I said, my tone serious but kind. "But that's it. You'll have to stay with your sister while you're here. Make sure you're nice to her. Help her out when you can. Think you can manage that?"
Nessa nodded her head quickly, her eagerness practically radiating from her. "Of course! I'll help her with anything! Cleaning, cooking—whatever she needs!"
"Good," I said, though I couldn't help but chuckle at her enthusiasm. "We'll rest up tonight and head to the Academy tomorrow morning to get you enrolled."
Her eyes widened, her excitement bubbling over again. "Tomorrow? Really? That soon?"
"That soon," I confirmed. "And you better be a good mage when you finish, Nessa. Or else..." I pointed a finger at her, trying to put on a stern face.
Instead of looking the least bit intimidated, she burst out laughing, clutching her stomach as her giggles echoed in the small space.
"You're really not good at being a bad guy, Mr. Harith," she said between laughs.
I couldn't help but laugh along with her, shaking my head. "Guess not," I admitted, the warmth of the moment settling over me. For all the challenges ahead, there was something about Nessa's unwavering spirit that made it hard not to feel hopeful.
Not long after, Clara returned with our meal—a hearty bowl of stew accompanied by warm, crusty bread. The aroma of the broth, rich with herbs and tender chunks of meat and vegetables, filled the air, making my stomach rumble in anticipation. It was a simple meal, nothing extravagant, but the warmth of the food and the company around the table made it feel like a feast.
We dug in, the stew warming me from the inside out with each bite. Nessa, seated between Clara and me, was eating so eagerly that I chuckled under my breath. Clara smiled at her, tearing off a piece of bread to dip into her own bowl.
Midway through the meal, I cleared my throat gently to draw Clara's attention. "Clara," I began, setting my spoon down. "I need to tell you something."
She paused, her gaze shifting to me. "What is it, Mr. Harith?"
"I'll cover Nessa's tuition for the Academy," I said, my voice steady. "But that's all I can manage. She'll have to stay with you while she's here. Is that okay with you?"
Clara's expression softened, and for a moment, I saw a deep gratitude in her eyes. She nodded, her hand reaching out to gently pat Nessa's head. "Thank you so much for all your help, Mr. Harith. I really appreciate it."
Nessa looked up at her sister, her eyes shining.
Clara continued, her voice warm with affection. "And yes, it's more than okay. I miss my Nessa," she said with a smile, tousling her little sister's hair.
I smiled at the exchange and took another bite of bread, feeling a weight lift from my chest.
But Clara turned to Nessa, her tone shifting slightly. "I do wonder, though," she said, tilting her head curiously. "Can you even conjure magic, Nessa?"
Nessa froze mid-bite, her spoon hovering just above her bowl. She set it down slowly, turning to look Clara in the eyes with a seriousness that surprised me.
"Must be hard carrying all of that burden by yourself, sis," she said softly, her voice gentle but piercing.
Clara's face faltered for a moment, the emotion flashing across her features too quickly to hide. I could see it—how her hand trembled slightly, the way her lips pressed together as though holding something back. If I weren't sitting right there, I was certain she would have broken down, her shoulders shaking under the weight of years of struggles.
Instead, she took a slow breath and managed a small, fragile smile. "You really can conjure magic," she said, her voice a whisper.
Nessa smiled faintly but said nothing, her gaze holding steady. It was a quiet moment between the two of them, something unspoken passing in the air, and I stayed silent, letting them have it.
Sometimes, words didn't need to be said out loud to be understood.
After we finished our meal, Clara picked up the empty bowls and plates, carrying them to the counter with practiced ease. As she returned to wipe down the table, she looked at me curiously, her expression thoughtful.
"So," she began, her tone light but inquisitive, "what brings you to Aldenholm, Mr. Harith? Pretty sure you don't have anyone waiting for you here."
I chuckled softly, leaning back in my chair. "You're right—I don't. My daughter is getting married next month. I'm on my way to her wedding."
Clara froze mid-wipe, her head snapping up to look at me. "Ellara is getting married?" she asked, her voice laced with disbelief.
Before I could respond, Nessa chimed in, her face lighting up with excitement. "Yes, to a King!"
Clara blinked, her hand still resting on the table. "Ellara is marrying a King? That same girl who used to climb trees like a squirrel and scare the daylights out of her mother?"
I couldn't help but laugh, the memory as vivid to me as it was to her. "Yes, Clara. That same girl. Hard to believe, isn't it?"
Clara shook her head, a mix of amazement and disbelief crossing her face. "Oh my. I can't believe it. So... who's this King she's marrying?"
I leaned forward slightly, my voice steady as I replied. "King Aeryndel of Iverithyn."
For a moment, Clara just stared at me, her eyes widening. "The King of the Elves?" she said, her voice rising slightly. She looked as though she were about to pass out, one hand bracing against the table.
"That's the one," I said with a nod, amused by her reaction.
She sank into the chair across from me, her face still a picture of shock. "I... I don't even know what to say," she murmured. "Ellara... Queen of the Elves?"
Nessa grinned, clearly enjoying her sister's surprise. "That's what happens when you climb enough trees, Clara," she said mischievously.
"Anyway," I said, pushing back my chair and standing up, "I've got places to be. Need to buy some supplies for the road later on." I glanced at Nessa and gave her a small smile. "I'll leave her with you, if that's alright?"
Clara nodded immediately, her hand resting lightly on Nessa's shoulder. "Of course, Mr. Harith. Don't worry, I'll take good care of her."
I turned to Nessa, pointing a finger at her with a mock sternness that only made her grin. "Be nice, Nessa. I'll meet you at the Academy tomorrow morning, alright?"
"Got it, Mr. Harith," she said, her tone light but filled with that same excitement she'd carried since we entered the city.
As I started to gather my things, Clara looked at me curiously. "You don't want to stay with us tonight? I've got room. It's a bit cramped, but it's better than being out there on your own."
I gave her a reassuring smile, shaking my head. "It's okay, Clara. I'll manage. Been on the road long enough to get used to it. Besides, you two have some catching up to do."
Clara looked like she might protest, but then she glanced at Nessa, who was still beaming beside her, and nodded. "Alright, if you're sure. But if you need anything, you know where to find us."
"Thanks, Clara," I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder. I gave them both a small wave as I headed toward the door. "Take care, and I'll see you tomorrow."
"Bye, Mr. Harith!" Nessa called after me, her voice bright and cheerful.
As I stepped outside, the cool evening air greeted me, carrying with it the faint hum of the city's endless energy.
The market of Aldenholm was as lively in the evening as it had been during the day. Lanterns hanging from poles and stalls bathed the streets in a warm glow, casting dancing shadows over the bustling scene. Vendors called out their wares, their voices mixing with the clatter of coins and the murmur of bargaining shoppers.
I wove my way through the throng, my eyes scanning the stalls for what I needed. I'd already made a mental list, though I knew from experience that it would grow with every conversation and suggestion I heard.
The first stall I stopped at was run by a middle-aged woman with a kind face and sharp eyes. Her stall was neatly arranged with packs of dried goods and jars of preserved fruits and vegetables.
"Evening," I greeted with a smile, running my fingers over a bag of dried figs. "What's good for a long journey?"
She gave me an appraising look, her hands deftly wrapping up an order for another customer. "Depends how far you're going," she said. "These figs keep well, and they'll give you a bit of energy on the road. Got dried beans, too—good if you've got a pot and time to cook."
"Beans sound good," I said, picking up a small sack.
"Add some rosemary," she said, pointing to a bundle of dried herbs hanging from the side of the stall. "You'll thank me later. Makes even the blandest stew taste decent."
I nodded, adding the rosemary to my pile and making a mental note to try it out with the rest of my provisions. As I paid, I asked, "What about bread? Something that won't go bad too quickly?"
She pointed to a basket filled with dense, round loaves wrapped in cloth. "Hard bread. It'll last you a week if you keep it dry. Might get tough, but soak it in soup or stew, and it'll soften right up."
I added two loaves to my bag, thanking her as I moved on.
The next stall caught my eye with its display of tools and camping gear. A wiry man with a thick mustache leaned over the counter, polishing a small hatchet.
"Evening," he said, giving me a nod. "Looking for something specific?"
"Something practical," I replied, eyeing the tools. "A good knife, maybe a spare cooking pot. I've got a long journey ahead."
He picked up a sturdy knife with a leather sheath, running a thumb along the blade. "This'll do you well. Good for cutting rope, slicing bread, or whittling wood. Not much use in a fight, though, if that's what you're thinking."
"Not much of a fighter," I said with a chuckle, taking the knife and testing its weight. It felt balanced, reliable. "But I'll take it."
He nodded approvingly, then reached for a compact pot with a folding handle. "Lightweight and durable," he said. "Good for boiling water or making a quick stew. Doesn't take up much space."
I handed over the coins, making a mental note to test the pot out as soon as I could.
As I moved further into the market, I spotted a small shop tucked into a corner, its windows glowing with the soft light of enchanted lanterns. Inside, an old man sat behind a counter covered in trinkets and charms, the air smelling faintly of sage and something metallic.
"Looking for something magical?" he asked, his voice raspy but friendly.
"More like something practical," I replied, eyeing a simple amulet carved from stone. "Anything to keep unwanted trouble at bay?"
He picked up the amulet, turning it over in his hands. "This one's enchanted with a minor ward," he explained. "Won't stop a rampaging beast, but it might deter smaller creatures. Keeps bad luck away, too—or so they say."
I wasn't sure how much faith I had in charms, but the craftsmanship was solid, and I figured it couldn't hurt. I added it to my growing collection of supplies, thanking the old man as I left.
By the time I finished, my bag was heavier, but I felt better prepared for the road ahead. Food, tools, and even a touch of magic—I had most of what I needed, though I made a mental note to double-check for spare socks and something to patch up my boots if they started to wear.
As I made my way back toward the inn where I planned to stay, the sounds of the market fading behind me, I allowed myself a small moment of satisfaction. The journey was far from over, but at least for now, I was ready for whatever the road might throw at me.
As I pushed open the door to the inn, the warmth of the room enveloped me. The soft glow of lanterns lit the modest space, and the hum of quiet conversation mixed with the faint clink of dishes from the kitchen. I was exhausted, ready to find a quiet corner to rest and let the day's weight lift off my shoulders.
But then I saw her.
Sitting at a table near the center of the room, her profile illuminated by the lamplight, was someone I hadn't expected to see again in this lifetime. Lillian. My heart gave a strange, unfamiliar jolt as I quickly turned my gaze to the floor, hoping to pass unnoticed.
I should've known better.
"Harith?"
Her voice carried across the room, warm and full of recognition, and before I could take another step, her hand was on mine, pulling me gently but insistently. "My oh my, what a coincidence!" she exclaimed, her smile wide and genuine.
I barely had time to respond before she led me to the nearest table and gestured for me to sit. "Come, sit. It's been... how many years now?"
Reluctantly, I sank into the chair opposite her, trying to suppress a sigh. My exhaustion begged for a bed, but Lillian's enthusiasm made it clear she had other plans.
She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "What are you doing here, Harith? Last I heard, you were settling down in some village. What was it called? Willow... something?"
"Willowshade," I muttered, managing a small smile. "Still there."
"Still the same old Harith," she said with a soft laugh, her voice carrying a touch of fondness. "You haven't changed a bit."
I wanted to say something, to steer the conversation to a polite end, but Lillian's energy filled the space, leaving little room for escape. She asked about my life, my health, the village—each question layered with genuine curiosity.
I answered sparingly, my replies short but not rude, hoping she'd sense my fatigue. But Lillian had always been persistent, and tonight was no different.
Finally, she leaned back slightly, tilting her head. "But really, what brings you to Aldenholm?"
I saw my chance and seized it, eager for an exit. "My daughter is getting married," I said simply.
The effect was immediate. Lillian's smile faltered, her expression shifting into something unreadable. She straightened in her chair, her fingers tapping lightly on the table's edge.
"Oh," she said, her tone softer, almost distant. "You have a daughter already."
"Yes," I replied, sensing the change in her mood but unsure how to navigate it.
Silence fell between us, heavy and awkward. She glanced away, her gaze lingering on the far wall as though lost in thought.
Finally, she broke the silence, her voice quieter now. "Well," she said, standing abruptly, smoothing her dress with quick hands. "I've got things to do. It was... nice to see you again, Harith."
She gave me a tight, fleeting smile before turning and walking away, her departure as sudden as her approach.
I sat there for a moment, the remnants of our conversation lingering in the air. Shaking my head slightly, I rose from the table and made my way toward the innkeeper, ready at last to find a quiet corner to sleep.
After a brief conversation with the innkeeper, I slid the coins across the counter, securing a room for the night. The price was fair—typical for a place like this in a bustling city—and I thanked him before heading for the stairs.
My legs felt heavier with every step as I climbed, the weariness of the day settling in fully now that I had a place to rest. Reaching my room, I unlocked the door and stepped inside, the space small but clean. A modest bed sat against one wall, a wash basin and pitcher on a wooden stand nearby. The window offered a view of the dimly lit street below, the glow of lanterns flickering like fireflies.
I dropped my bag beside the bed with a quiet thud and stretched, my joints protesting the movement. The prospect of sleep was tempting, but the chill of the evening clung to me, and I decided a warm bath would do me good.
The inn had a small bathing area downstairs, and I made my way there, letting the heat of the water ease the tension in my shoulders and back. The steam rose around me, carrying away the grime and exhaustion of the day, and for a brief moment, I let myself relax fully, my mind quiet.
When I returned to my room, I barely had the energy to change into fresh clothes before collapsing onto the bed. The mattress was firm but welcoming, and the blanket was thick enough to ward off the night's chill.
As I closed my eyes, the events of the day swirled faintly in my mind—Nessa's excitement, Clara's gratitude, the strange reunion with Lillian—but they drifted away like smoke as sleep claimed me.
In no time, the quiet hum of the city faded into nothing, and I slept, deeply and dreamlessly, letting the night do its work to restore me for the journey ahead.
To be continued...