James squinted at the horizon, the faint outline of a city rising like a mirage against the golden light of the twin suns. The sight stirred something deep in his chest—hope, mixed with a wary apprehension. He adjusted the scythe strapped to his back and tightened the straps of his pack, feeling the reassuring weight of the Heart of Eldarath inside. The expanse of open field between him and the distant walls was both a relief and a vulnerability. No trees to shield him now, but no shadows to hide enemies either.
"Just keep moving," he muttered to himself, stepping forward. The grass whispered against his boots as he walked, the wind carrying the distant hum of the city. His body ached, each step a reminder of the toll the forest had taken on him. But the sight of those distant walls kept him going. A city meant people, resources, maybe even answers. Or it meant new dangers. Either way, staying out here wasn't an option.
As he walked, James couldn't help but glance over his shoulder periodically. The forest loomed behind him, its dark edges seeming to watch him leave. He shivered despite the warmth of the suns. The field stretched on, seemingly endless, yet every step took him closer to his goal. He focused on the rhythm of his movement, the soft crunch of boots against soil grounding him in the moment.
Hours passed, the city growing larger, its features slowly sharpening into view. High stone walls encircled it, towers rising at regular intervals. Even from a distance, James could make out the movement of figures along the battlements. Guards, no doubt. The gates were massive, reinforced with dark iron that glinted in the sunlight. From this far out, the city seemed alive, a stark contrast to the silence of the forest.
His stomach growled, a sharp reminder of his dwindling energy. The rations from the elven caravan were gone, and the thought of food made his steps falter. He shook his head, forcing himself to focus. Food would come later. First, he had to get inside.
The sun began its descent, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. James quickened his pace, the city now close enough to make out details: merchants' carts lined up near the gates, travelers waiting to enter, and guards inspecting everyone who approached. He slowed, his heart thudding in his chest. The last thing he needed was to draw attention to himself. The scythe on his back wasn't exactly subtle, and neither was the faint aura of Riftborn energy he suspected still clung to him.
"Blend in," he murmured. Easier said than done.
He approached the line of travelers, keeping his head down and his movements casual. The scythe drew a few curious glances, but no one said anything. Most people seemed too preoccupied with their own business to care about a lone wanderer. James studied the guards as he waited his turn. They wore polished armor and carried spears, their expressions bored but alert. Each traveler was asked a few questions, their belongings given a cursory inspection before they were waved through.
When his turn came, James felt his pulse quicken. A guard stepped forward, his gaze sharp as it swept over James.
"Name?" the guard asked, his voice flat.
"James," he replied, keeping his tone steady.
"Purpose of your visit?"
James hesitated for a fraction of a second. "Looking for work. Maybe a place to rest."
The guard's eyes lingered on the scythe. "You a mercenary?"
"Something like that."
The guard grunted, motioning to another who began inspecting James's pack. James tensed but kept his expression neutral. The Heart of Eldarath was well-hidden, tucked into a compartment that looked like part of the pack's lining. The guard rifled through his belongings, pausing to inspect a small vial of alchemical powder.
"What's this?" the guard asked, holding it up.
"For treating wounds," James replied quickly. "Ran into some trouble on the road."
The guard raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. He handed the pack back and nodded to his companion. "He's clear."
James exhaled silently, stepping through the gates as the guards waved him on. The city unfolded before him, its streets alive with activity. The air was thick with the scents of roasting meat, fresh bread, and the metallic tang of a blacksmith's forge. Vendors shouted over one another, hawking everything from trinkets to weapons. People moved in every direction, their voices blending into a chaotic symphony.
He paused just inside the gates, taking it all in. The city felt overwhelming, a stark contrast to the isolation of the forest. But it also felt…normal. Like a piece of the world he used to know, before everything had changed.
James adjusted his pack, stepping into the flow of the crowd. He kept to the edges of the street, his eyes scanning for anything useful. Inns, shops, alleyways—anything that might provide shelter or information. The weight of the Heart of Eldarath pressed against him, a constant reminder of the secret he carried. He couldn't risk anyone finding out about it, not yet.
A sign caught his eye: a wooden board hanging above a door, painted with the image of a bed and a steaming bowl. An inn. James hesitated, glancing at the coins in his pouch. The elven caravan hadn't exactly left him rich, but he had enough for a night or two. And right now, rest was more important than saving coin.
He pushed open the door, stepping into the warm, dimly lit interior. The scent of spiced stew filled the air, and the low murmur of conversation created a soothing backdrop. A woman behind the counter looked up as he approached.
"Need a room?" she asked, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Yeah," James replied. "How much?"
"Five silver a night. Meals included."
James nodded, fishing the coins from his pouch and placing them on the counter. The woman took them with a practiced hand, sliding a key across to him.
"Second floor, third door on the left," she said. "Stew's fresh if you're hungry."
"Thanks," he said, taking the key.
The room was small but clean, with a narrow bed, a wooden chair, and a basin of water. James set his pack down carefully, his gaze lingering on the scythe as he propped it against the wall. The weight of the day hit him all at once, his body sinking onto the bed as exhaustion took over.
For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt safe. The city walls were strong, the room secure. He didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but for now, he allowed himself to rest. His eyes closed, the murmur of the city fading into the background as sleep claimed him.