“My name is Simon Alsworth, I’m a level 35 Honest Merchant.” Simon said after Mel fed him a spoonful of soup. He wasn’t able to sit up, but Mel planned on taking him and the wagon to Langston tomorrow. Which would likely be an ordeal.

“Well, I’m Melphis Hargold. I’m a level 2 Traveler. What happened with you and that man?” He asked morbid curiosity eating away at him. Had he been in the right?

“He was a beggar I saw on the side of the road. Offered him a ride to Langston. I was planning on buying some clothes to sell when I got back home in Wrion. Maybe get a couple dresses for my wife and daughters. I asked him not to look in the back, ya know, didn’t want him to get greedy. Probably should have just kept my mouth shut about the whole thing.” The man looked grief stricken. At least they felt similarly about what had happened. “Thank you, for saving me. I told you already, but I'm a Honest Merchant. If you ever need anything, anything, let me know. I would give you my own house if you asked.”

The idea of someone being so grateful, or even in his debt felt odd so he deflected. “Wrion is pretty far away huh? Don’t they mine a bunch of crystals up there? And gemstones right?”

The man offered a wiry smile. “Oh yeah, you looking for a good ring for a lady? Your way too young for that though, only level 2.”

“I'm fairly certain I’ll level up soon enough. Isn’t it something like two or three hours after earning the level that you receive the actual notification?”

“I’ve never been much for the Scholars theories on leveling. I couldn’t tell you.”

They chatted a while longer, mostly making small talk to keep the conversation going. But eventually, they both settled in a quiet reverie. Mel sat in the quiet for a moment. It felt nice to be calm and still. He was still upset, but talking to the man had soothed him. The horse, whose name was Darby, had been joined by his brother, Darby Junior. Simon was clearly not the most creative when it came to naming conventions. As he rested he eventually heard Simons pained snores, and decided that sleep was the right idea. He was so, so very close to drifting off to sleep when he felt, saw, heard the words.

Traveler Class Level Up! Traveler Level Three.

Skill Gained: Journey’s Fruit

Traveler Class Level Up! Traveler Level Four.

Skill Gained: Hardy Constitution

Mel nodded a small sort of acknowledgement and then laid back on to the hard ground of the tent. Simon slept on the drivers bench on the wagon. It apparently folded out into a coffin-like enclosure, and the man swore up and down it was the best sleep he ever got. Mel would have slept in it, if only to escape the painful ground, but he was concerned that Simon would just die in his sleep. Now that he thought about it, if he went to sleep, how would he notice if the man just ceased breathing. His blood was mostly potion right now....

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Melphis stood vigil, watching Simon like a hawk. Everytime the man took a slightly longer period of time to breathe he panicked a little. At several points he was certain that Simon had just died without any warning, before watching his chest rise and fall like it had all throughout the night. He drank a sip of water, not wanting to drink so much he would have to go to the bathroom while the man was kept alive purely by the blood like potion coursing through his veins.

Eventually day came and Simon woke up perfectly fine. Mel, surprisingly, wasn’t incredibly exhausted. He packed up everything, then as carefully as he could sat Simon on the bench of the wagon. He listened carefully as Simon explained what to do and then he was off. The Darby brothers were the epitome of prize horses, as far as temperament went. The horses gave him no trouble whatsoever, from feeding them, to keeping a steady pace and staying on track.

The trip took until sunset but they arrived at the city with no more trouble. The city was truly an amazing sight. The walls were a piece of art, in and of themselves. Murals covered every inch of stone brick and mortar. Some parts had faded away, while others seem so bright that they must have been painted only days ago. And it wasn’t unorganized either, the paintings flowed perfectly into one another, not quite telling any story but still making a wonderful first view of the city.

The gate had a painting of an immense beast being slain to the right of it, although it was done with children in mind so although spears and arrows covered the beast there wasn’t a speck of red paint anywhere near it. To the left was a series of colorful bubbles that transitioned into the same weapons being used to slay the beast. It seemed like some sort of subtle message that although the walls were pretty they were still powerful… or maybe it was just his imagination. The bubbles were amazingly detailed though, if they weren’t so stationary he would have thought them real. A small part of him still did.

They rode the wagon up to the gate, where he stopped by a woman whose greying hair was tied back into an oddly tall tower of hair. Or really, it wasn’t oddly tall but odd in every way. “Here's the list of goods we need to declare, could you point me in the direction of a healer as well please?” He asked while handing the officer of tax, or whatever they were called. It varied far too often for him to keep track of it.

“Take the second left and then the fifth right, then look for a big sign that says ‘Delphi the Healer’. You go in, Delphi, who is a Healer, will help your friend. Now, have you committed any crimes against humanity or the king in the last month?” The woman asked dryly.

“Mel, you don’t have to answer that question. And please don’t. Sitting here and stewing while she interrogates you for five hours before acknowledging it was the right thing to do might actually kill me.” Simon

He took a moment to think, before offering a small shrug at the frowning woman. She just motioned for him to just go, looking exasperated. Why ask if the person could just refuse to answer? It reeked of bureaucracy and backwards logic. But, it was better than the rule of tyrants. He was happy to let councils bicker about laws that would change nothing, screw things up, and make things needlessly complicated, so long as they did so with the people's best interests at heart.

But they entered the city, and Mel slowly moved with the traffic until he stopped outside of the small clinic. The whole building was made out of stone, which seemed odd because Mel had never seen a building made out of stone. It was too expensive to get stone all the way out in Carston, which had up until very recently officially been a village province under Langston. The windows of the shop showcased a myriad of remedies. Mel had never heard of half of them, let alone of the ailments they were designed to treat. One was a small vial of clear fluid made for ‘blood sugar imbalances’. Why was there sugar in blood? Did the blood need to eat?

Mel put it out of mind as he headed into the shop to get treatment for his new… friend? Simon was twenty years his elder but Mel thought the label fit. After all if he was going to be traveling the entire world, and he couldn’t be friends with someone a few years older than him, what was going to do if he met a dwarf or an ent? Yeah, he was going to get medicine for his new friend.