I sat in front of the fire, which I thought I’d start since it didn’t matter much anymore if anyone found me, and ate the food that I had taken out of Des’ saddle bag when first establishing the camp. Des’ presence was nowhere to be found however, and even though my first impulse when discovering that someone had stolen my horse, along with most of my belongings, was to chase after them on foot, I realized that I wouldn’t be able to keep up a fast pace for a long time with wind sorcery, and it was already dark enough that I would have trouble even seeing where I was going.

I thought about how I could have avoided such a scenario, but even as I thought about what led me to lose my mount and my money I couldn’t spot one specific thing I could have changed to alter the outcome, and assumed this is all just an unlucky situation I encountered. The bread I ate no longer tasted as good, and knowing this was the last of my food I had and me no longer having any more money to purchase more of it.

I rode for at least half a day on horseback south of Verorum, and to my knowledge it would have taken me at least a few more days to get south enough to reach the city where I originally intended to pick up a few commissions, and that was on a horse. Would it be better to just turn back to the capital? But then it would certainly take me longer than a day to make it there than half a day on foot, which was a prospect I wasn’t all that keen on.

If I at least knew how to hunt, or knew what things were safe to eat in the wild then I wouldn’t be as worried as I was now, but this was knowledge I was not aware of which just added complications to my predicament. The other thing that was annoying was that my pot and waterskin were both in the saddlebag, so even though a human being could survive for a few days without eating, I couldn’t go that long for fear of collapsing from thirst.

I was already quite tired from the day's events, and the mental toll of losing nearly everything suddenly made me fall asleep very quickly. I'd think about this more with a well-rested mind. The animals and beasts that were most definitely present in my vicinity decided to leave me in peace that night, which was at least one good thing that has happened to me recently.

In the morning I re-evaluated my options, I still had my two swords and leather armor, a cloak, and the tent that I had set up originally but wouldn’t have any way of carrying with me if I wanted to have my hands remain free. I decided that at least for now it would be best to see if the thief who stole my horse returned to Verorum like I did, and decided to head back the way I came.

Since the road was known to me, I remembered seeing a small stream a little bit further away from the main path, which would have to be where I quenched my thirst. Even though I couldn’t boil the water properly without a pot, I thought it was worth risking one drink from a stream and remaining at least somewhat hydrated, rather than risk collapsing from exhaustion. I had no food left with me after eating some bread last night, but one day without eating was something I’d have to suffer through.

I asked a few travelers that were heading the opposite way if they saw a brown travel horse with a saddle bag pass them on the road, and although most just feigned ignorance with the attitude of ‘not my problem’, one good samaritan actually told me that he saw a horse matching that description enter Verorum just as he was about to leave, although he couldn’t recall the appearance of its rider.

This news at least gave me some hope, and made me move even faster than I did before that. Since I didn’t wish to announce the fact that I could use sorcery to everyone around me, I switched between walking at a fast pace when my vision was restricted by trees or when I could see that there were people around me, but accelerated with wind sorcery and sprinted for some stretches of my journey in order to decrease the time it would take me to arrive in Verorum.

I could feel it in my chest that such magical exertions would be difficult to maintain for long periods of time, but doing so for about ten minutes was something I could manage. I drank my fill like a camel at the stream I remembered seeing prior, and even though the water didn’t taste funny I knew that it wasn’t a guarantee of it being uncontaminated. I knew that it would not be easy for me to find another place to rehydrate myself safely for quite a while yet, so I forced myself to drink more than I usually would, pushing thoughts of illness out of my mind.

The sun had begun to set, and I was still only about three-quarters of my way back to the capital of Targis, so I forced myself to move away from the main road and towards a group of larger looking trees. I had already discarded thoughts of comfort in spending the night, and instead focused on safety as a priority. I reasoned that since I wouldn’t be setting up a tent anyway, then it was probably a better option to sleep on one of the sturdier looking branches of a large tree, which would at least put me out of reach of things that couldn’t climb them.

Although wind sorcery had aided me in horizontal leaps in the past, I wasn’t eager to experiment using them to launch me upwards without any practice so I climbed it carefully the conventional way, using my limbs. In order to avoid falling off in the middle of the night, I took off my sword belt and tied myself to the branch, while leaving my swords dangling off the belt like some brutalistic chandelier.

The sounds of the birds and insects in spring provided a very strange background for my rest, and everytime when I thought they’d finally shut up I’d hear some creature make another sound some distance away from me. My grumpiness must have been affecting my mental state as every time I’d try and clear my mind to get at least a few hours of sleep I’d have thoughts of burning down the entire forest to make them quiet once and for all. My sorcery couldn’t be activated by just idle thoughts though, so the forest remained intact when I departed at the break of dawn, having got perhaps two hours of sleep, and not in one go either.

The second time I arrived in Verorum my appearance was a lot more rough-looking than before, and the guards actually detained me for a while at the gates and wouldn’t let me pass peaceably. I tried to explain to them that my horse was stolen and described in detail how Des looked, and the appearance of my saddle bag as well.

The guards clearly couldn’t be bothered with someone who had already lost everything, and their reactions ranged from disinterested silence, to comments on ‘This damn Jenusian wants our help? Fat chance!”. Even though I wasn’t actually Jenusian, having learned Rahlian in Jenusian my accent must have come off that way, and after getting no help from them whatsoever they finally let me in, without charging me a toll since I wasn’t carrying anything.

My grumbling stomach guided my course of action as I immediately went to the mercenary guild and picked up a commission that I could accomplish within one day. This commission was more like an odd-job than actual mercenary work, with some free hands required at a construction site in the northern part of the city. I followed the directions of the clerk at the guild and arrived after only a twenty minute walk, and found that while I wouldn’t actually need to build anything, myself and a few others who picked up the same commission would be unloading construction materials that would arrive on a wagon throughout the day, and then load those same wagons with the earth that was being dug up by the actual builders.

This was not the most enjoyable thing to do having had nothing to eat for over a day-and-a-half, and even though the foreman at the construction site for some sort of building suggested I take off my cloak and armor since it would make my movements easier, my paranoia didn’t let me part for even a moment with what I still had.

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The back-breaking labor lasted all the way to sundown, after which the foreman sent someone with the names of those who did the work to the guild, and told us to head there as well with his man to pick up our payment. The pay for a whole day of work that didn’t actually pay that well was only one ‘head’ of silver, which was the name for the Targis currency. As soon as I was handed the coin at the guild I had the desire to sprint to the nearest tavern and gorge myself on whatever I could buy.

I restrained myself however, since I knew the places closest to the guild would be more expensive, and I didn’t have enough to blow through the days’ earnings in one evening. I walked on unsteady feet to the southern part of the city, my throat parched and my stomach tied in a knot all the while. I spotted a shabby looking tavern that I remembered being crowded before, and entered in search of some drink and food.

There were multiple tables still free, but I didn’t have the energy to deal with other people who would most definitely occupy the spare seats should I sit there, so I saw two barrels near the stone wall and made myself comfortable there. The male servant who came to take my order didn’t show the same kind of courtesy I got used to in prior establishments, and crudely walked up to me and asked what I would be ordering.

I didn’t have anything specific that was in mind so I asked him for a suggestion for what I could order a lot of but at the same time wasn’t that pricey. He managed to answer what I thought would be an unusual question quite easily, perhaps I wasn’t the only one struggling in the city. Drink-wise I knew that ordering a cup of water had a high chance of me falling ill and dying so I settled for the cheapest alcohol they had on offer, with the alcohol-content sterilizing most illnesses.

When a large bowl of soup arrived on the barrel in front of me, its aroma seeming much more enticing than it probably was, I had to pay before I could even start eating. I handed the man my one silver coin, to which he gave me back the change of two copper heads. The man returned less than a minute later with my ale, during which half of the soup disappeared from the bowl into my stomach. Seeing him and the mug I thanked him politely, before returning my attention to the food in front of me.

But before I could continue engorging myself on my meal of stale bread and soup, a thought in my mind reminded me that it probably wasn’t a good idea to eat so quickly on an empty stomach, and it took almost all of my willpower to sit there quietly while slowly sipping on my ale. Its taste was horrid, but it served its purpose wetting my tongue and I began to think of how normal people could even stomach drinking this kind of thing daily.

I remembered reading in history class about how even children in medieval Europe would drink weaker alcohols as it was seen as a healthy alternative to water that might contain disease. This ale I am drinking now was probably similar to that, since in the brewing process only the first batch is the good-quality stuff with higher alcohol content. What I was drinking certainly wasn’t good-quality, and a more appropriate term for it would probably be ‘barley soup’.

I ate the rest of my meal much slowly, hoping that the calories I just ate would be enough for someone like me to last yet another day. After finishing my meal my stomach felt like it was three times its usual size. I turned slightly so I could lean against the stone wall behind me, and observed the rest of the tavern’s patrons while having certain thoughts of my own.

Since I was now objectively poor, my first task would be to earn enough money to not have to worry about my daily meals and accommodation. When I could achieve that, then I’d begin saving up for a horse, and only once I could purchase a good enough horse would I have the leisure to think about more complex things.

Doing these very ‘cheap’ commissions on the daily would not contribute to such a goal, so I began to think about what other choices were available to me. Better paying options usually entailed long-term employment, with very little mobility. I didn’t want to commit to living in one place since that would make it much easier to be found by the Jenusians. My thoughts went around in circles for quite a while longer before I remembered the people recruiting mercenaries in front of the guild, looking for those with fighting experience to enter their bands. I didn’t know anything about the bands specifically, but some of the tales that Gaspar would regale myself and Gero with after training certainly gave off the impression that it was all ‘sunshine and rainbows’.

I didn’t think for even one second that reality would be so great, but at the same time this was an option that I didn’t understand completely. It wouldn’t hurt to walk up to one of those recruiters and see what the ‘terms of employment’ were, for lack of a better term. But as the plans for the next day became more concrete, a more current issue sprouted up in my mind as I saw some patrons begin leaving the tavern.

Where would I spend the night? I doubt there was a single inn who’s prices matched the two copper coins I still had on me, and sleeping outside in the street like a hobo wasn’t something I wanted to experience for myself. Some of the patrons at the tavern didn’t leave like the rest, which gave me an idea. Some people drowned their day’s sorrows a little too much, and passed out drunk on the chairs, benches, and floor of the tavern. While this isn’t very sanitary, nor safe, it is still a preferable alternative to having nowhere to sleep.

The people running the tavern didn’t pay much attention to most of these customers, although some of the worst offenders who had certain ‘accidents’ in their not-quite sober states were thrown out unceremoniously by some of the tavern’s employees. Seeing that I was still sober and showing no signs of leaving, the man who served me my food a few hours ago looked at me from across the room for just a moment, before showing that there was a lock on the door that led to where the alcohol, food, and presumably where he slept was located.

I nodded, understanding that he warned me against trying to break in and stealing anything, before making my way behind the place where some patrons sat earlier, which was out of sight from others in the room. I only had two copper heads on me anyway, and it would be the height of stupidity to try and steal swords from a man wearing them, so in my tired state I fell asleep much quicker than the previous night.

The wooden floor was nowhere near as comfortable as the bed, and I woke up to sounds of people already moving around the tavern the following morning with a very sore neck. I stood up and left the tavern quickly, before dusting myself off outside where many people were already out and about.

Since the more time I wasted, the less time I would have to earn enough money during the day to provide myself a meal, I moved with purpose back north to the mercenary guild. The men shouting from time to time dressed in armor and carrying weapons were already there, trying very hard to scout out potential recruits. I walked up to the one who was closest to me, and tried to initiate a conversation, but it didn’t go that well.

As soon as it became clear to others that I was approaching those recruiting for the mercenary bands, I was swarmed by every single one of the ‘recruiters’. They all began shouting all at once in a variety of accents, trying to make me choose their band over the others. By speaking at the same time it meant that I could only comprehend the occasional word, and while I was dumbfounded by the situation I couldn’t even make my intentions clear.

Once I made contact with the brawny man on my left with a beard, who was of a similar height to me and had black hair, he interpreted it as me choosing him and put his hand around my shoulder and essentially ‘dragged’ me away from where the cacophony erupted. He asked me for my name and I responded with ‘Lev’, after which he introduced himself as ‘Al’.

He seemed to be quite socially aware, and understood that while I walked off with him I wasn’t set on joining his band just yet. He asked me if I had already registered with the guild, and after confirming it when I showed him my wooden plate with my name and number. He then asked me if I had any questions about the band he represented: ‘Backhand blow’.

I said that I had quite a few questions, since I didn’t understand the workings of mercenary bands in their entirety. He graciously offered to treat me to a drink while he answered my questions, which surprised me. My first reaction was to accept, as a free drink would ease my troubles even if I didn’t end up joining Backhand Blow. I didn’t want to be in Al’s debt though, so I declined his offer and said that talking outside suited me just fine.

He must have thought that I was scared of him, as he said that I had nothing to fear, to which I clarified that I didn’t want him to spend his own money on someone who might not even end up joining. He laughed in my face and said that the band had a part of their budget for recruiters set aside to treat them to a drink, to set a favorable impression, and although some smart fellows tried to take advantage of that by getting drinks for free repeatedly, he had never seen me before so I was someone he could treat.

Such a detailed recruiting strategy actually surprised me, and after hearing that this was the norm I accepted. We walked to a better looking tavern than the last, where the cheapest ale didn’t cost one copper, but two.

He introduced himself again, this time giving me his full name: ‘Alula’, although he insisted I continue calling him Al. I asked him some of my questions regarding pay, and also about some general stuff such as what kind of work they picked up. He said that although pay wasn’t constant in their band, it was still better than being alone, and that when no contracts or commissions were in progress the band would still provide two meals and a place to sleep for their members.

This was actually the most alluring prospect for me, so some of my prior reservations about joining a band disappeared. He then explained quite clearly that although the pay was good, a mercenary band such as theirs picked up dangerous work, and it was almost a given that I would need to be able to fight.

He asked me a few questions, commenting on the oddity of me carrying two blades. I explained that although I was most comfortable with wielding two swords, I could also fight with a sword and shield, although I didn’t own one. He laughed at such a comment and almost didn’t believe me, but I said that I would be up for a spar to prove that I was not lying.

That statement surprised him, and he took me up on my offer and gulped the rest of his ale down in one swig, before saying that their camp was just outside the city, where we could have such a spar.