They had dinner from the food stalls and rented a room in a tucked away inn called the Juggling Whale. Rethia mentally added to the money she promised to pay back to Isatha someday.
The following morning, Isatha accompanied her to the jungle and watched as she gathered those herbs. None of them saw the red bear, and by the afternoon, they were back in Nitia, delivering the herbs.
Rethia held her first two silver Rhamp with a bright smile.
“I think you’ve got the hang of it.” Isatha patted her head. “Then I will stop mothering you. I have errands to run and people to visit. I do hope you come back for all the solstices, but the winter solstice is the best. Us Travelers always try to return for it. And remember: You can always return to the flock, no matter what happens.”
“Thank you Isatha, for everything.” Rethia hugged the owl, taking a deep breath of the familiar wind-mixed musky scent.
Isatha hugged her back, then pushed her away: “May the winds always carry you through the skies.”
“And you.” Rethia sniffled at the goodbye.
Isatha turned and vanished into the crowd, Rethia staring after her for a long time, watching as, finally, a white harpy flew into the sky and vanished southwards.
That’s it, eh? I’m a true adventuring harpy now, right? It… it feels kind of lonely without Isatha there…
A small furry head rubbed against her cheek. She chuckled. “Right, I still have you, Sven. Let us gather some more herbs, to pay for our next meal.”
Rethia went back into the guild building to peruse the request board.
“Hello?” Rethia walked up to a human working their fields.
The person looked up at her. “Yes?”
“I’m searching for Elder Baria, can you show me where he is?”
“Ah, the Elder. He should be working the herb garden, this time of the day. On the other side of the village.” The person vaguely pointed into the village, then returned to pulling weeds.
“Thank you.” Rethia nodded her head, which went unnoticed, and walked straight through the village. A group of children ran across her path, chasing each other. They skidded to a stop on the other side of the road and stared at her with open mouths.
Ruffling her feathers in slight distress, she did her best to ignore them, stalking her way to the herb garden. Tiny feet plodded after her.
“Hello? Elder Baria?” she asked loudly, when she reached the herb garden. Two men were there, pulling weeds and watering the herbs.
“Yes?” one of them straightened, stretching his back. The other went back to his work after a cursory glance. “Oho, haven’t seen a harpy in these parts for a long while. What lucky wind brought you here?”
“I’m Rethia. I’m here to deliver a letter. Please sign here that you received it.” She pushed the letter, together with a wooden board and a stick of charcoal towards him.
“A letter? Probably from Momori, eh? Hmpf. What’s he up to now?” grumbling, Elder Baria took the letter and signed the wooden board.
“Thank you. May you have a bountiful harvest.” Rethia bowed slightly, then searched for the quickest way to walk out of the village. People became hostile, if she landed or took of in the middle of their village. Learned the hard way, when she was greeted by armed farmers and house wives – one even with a sizzling hot pan in her hands.
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“Wait a moment! Can you deliver a return letter to this idiot? With payment, of course,” shouted Elder Baria after her.
“Well, sure. It’s on my way, I guess?”
“Wonderful. Come along then. My wife will give you a small bite and a drink while you wait. And you kids run along now. It’s rude to stare at guests.”
Squealing and giggling, the children ran away.
They walked up to the only two-story building in the village. Receiving a bowl of soup and declining the piece of bread, Rethia squatted down in front of the building, slurping the soup straight from the bowl.
Gazing at the villagers going about their day, she thought back.
Hardly believable that I’ve been outside of the flock for five weeks. It feels like only a day, and an eternity. I wonder what everyone is doing? Are maps of this area even interesting to the flock? I guess merchants fly over this area regularly, right? Because it’s really close to home. The plateau is still visible from here.
“Here you go, the return letter and your payment.” The Elder had returned, handing her a new letter and some coins.
“I’ll deliver it as fast as possible.” She tucked it into a pouch, then left the village before taking flight. Circling once over the village, she finally returned to Nitia. It was the last stop in a chain of delivery requests.
“I think I understand why people say deliveries don’t pay, Sven. Most of the reward money is used to pay for transport, food and guards. Or to maintain weapons. There are always some kind of aggressive beasts around, and who knows how many bandits are hidden in these small forests. And they’re tedious.”
Sven chittered into her ear.
“No. You know that humans can’t fly. They have no wings. They have to use those roads with all their holes and follow their winding path. Whoever designed roads like this was an idiot.”
She felt the increasing moisture in the air and picked up her speed, landing in respectful distance to the walled city a few heartbeats after the rain started falling.
Grumbling, she pulled the cloak out of a pouch and draped it around her shoulders.
Uncomfy, restricting nuisance. At least it keeps the rain away.
“Welcome back, Rethia. How did your deliveries go?” asked the cat lady receptionist.
“Tedious,” sighed Rethia, leaning on the counter. “I finally understand why no one wants to pick them. If I could hunt one of those feral wolf packs or red bears that pop up every week, I would pick that over deliveries any time. It pays better and you can sell the corpses. Wholesale or as separate materials. Did anyone find out why they suddenly pop up? It seems unnatural to me. Wolf packs don’t just spawn. With how many I have seen in the dismantling hall during these past five weeks, they should be extinct around Nitia.”
“Sadly, no. It’s still a mystery to us. Though those Wanderers don’t seem to notice. Contrary, they seem either sad or angry when they can’t find a feral beast, muttering something about abysmal spawn rate. Whatever that means.”
Sven pushed her tag and the collection of signed wooden boards over the counter. The cat lady checked it all, then put a crystal on the stack and the tag on the crystal. It shone briefly, then went inert.
“There you go, all seven deliveries registered to your tag as complete. And congratulations! With these, you have completed enough requests to reach rank E. You can now take on requests with a difficulty of up to D, if they fit your skillset, and you’re eligible to a small, permanent discount in our guild owned shops.”
“Thanks. Oh, nearly forgot it. There was a return letter from Elder Baria. Can you hand it over to the client?” she put the letter on the counter, letting Sven climb up her outstretched wing with her tag.
“Sure. He’ll get it together with the completion report. And here is your payment.”
With another thanks, she swipped the coins into a pouch and left the building in search for a late lunch.
At least that was the plan. But with how thick the rain was outside, she decided to sit down in the tavern part of the guild for once. Most people were still out and there were seats available.
Picking up two bowls of warm stew and a plate with grilled meat, she grabbed a spot close to the hearth.
They devoured the food instantly, Rethia still nibbling on a bone while staring into her notebook.
Sven equally peered at her scribbles. A list of all the requests she had done so far, what they paid, as well as the amount of herbs she had additionally sold. Without expenses, it made a pretty sum.
The other pages were filled with maps of villages and their surroundings. Only one was so tiny that it could fit Nitia, the Harpy Village and all the villages within a days flight of Nitia. But it wasn’t as detailed as the other maps.
She sighed and tapped the table with a claw, switching the bone to the other side of her mouth, gnawing.
“Gigi?” Sven stared up at her, little paws behind her tapping claw.
“I don’t know, Sven. It feels like I’m missing something. I wanted to search for my memories, but I don’t know where to go. I’m stuck.”
“Gii.”
“Of course I can just fly in any direction. But what if it’s in the completely opposite direction? Then all the time I spent was for naught.”
“Gii gigii gi”
“Haaah. Are you sure? I don’t know…”
“Gi gii gi!”
“Fine, fine. We’ll go home and ask the shaman. I really hope they like my maps. I have nothing else of interest to give back to the flock.”