“So this is it, eh?”

Garrick, with Ember perched alertly on his shoulder and the painted box in his arms, found himself gazing upon the new road for the first time, his eyes tracing the neatly laid stones that stretched into the distance. Dashiell had mentioned that Maretown was already connected, but this was the first time he’d seen it from up close. The road, reminiscent of the ancient Roman roads he'd read about back on Earth, was definitely a marvel of engineering in this world—straight, durable, and designed, he assumed, to last through the ages.

Dashiell had spoken of this grand project, but seeing it in person brought a new sense of reality to Garrick. Maretown was pressed on one by the mountains, and surrounded by trees and streams—the only more eastern settlement before more mountains was the Village of Princes (which Dashiell had alluded to as already having been connected.) The stretch north was open, but for miles upon miles there’d be nothing until places like Brackenfall, which was—he could imagine—hardly an area Montrose Structures would be interested in daisy-chaining to other settlements with their current sights. Perhaps in the future?

If the project succeeds.

In any case, this road was purposeful, and connected Maretown to other larger towns within Bastion, facilitating travel and trade in ways that would have been unimaginable in Garrick's early days in this world. Yet, as he stepped onto the road, he couldn't shake off a feeling of unease. Not the existential dread he’d been feeling in the lead-up days. No, this was a more present feeling.

The problem was not the road itself but the throngs of people it attracted. Travelers from what appeared to be all corners of the province, carts heavy with goods, carriages, and countless pedestrians—it was a sea of activity and noise. Garrick was reminded of a day long ago, in his childhood, when a new Zippy's opened and, despite everyone in town having been to a Zippy's before, the novelty had drawn a massive crowd. The road had a similar effect; it was new, and therefore everyone had to experience it, irrespective of the inconvenience.

As Garrick navigated through the bustling crowd, his attention was abruptly captured by an odd sight.

Directly in the middle of the road sat a young woman, legs crossed, gazing around with an expression of bewildered fascination. Her short blue hair fluttered slightly in the breeze, and a rucksack brimming with mining tools lay beside her, as though she'd decided to take a break from an expedition to the center of the earth right here on the cobblestones.

Garrick paused, curiosity piqued.

Is she alright? Hopefully this isn’t a hopeful scam artist waiting to attempt to fleece a kindly old Good Samaritan.

Ember tilted her head, equally intrigued. Approaching cautiously, Garrick cleared his throat, attempting to get the woman's attention. However, she seemed utterly oblivious to her surroundings, lost in whatever marvels she perceived in the bustling chaos.

He tried again, raising his voice slightly.

"Excuse me, miss? Do you need any assistance?"

Still no response.

It was as if she was in a trance, her eyes darting from one invisible point of interest to another, a silent observer to a spectacle unseen by any other.

Shrugging to Ember, who seemed to suggest he try harder with a pointed look, Garrick stepped closer, waving a hand gently in front of the woman's face. Finally, her gaze snapped to his, a look of surprise flashing across her features as though she'd just noticed the world around her for the first time.

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"Oh! I'm terribly sorry," she said, her voice tinged with embarrassment. Slowly standing, she began to brush the dust from her clothes, a sheepish smile spreading across her face. "I was... well, I suppose I was daydreaming. Lost in my own little world there for a moment."

Garrick couldn't help but smile. There was something about this woman that reminded him of Twyla.

"It's quite alright. But may I ask, what were you so engrossed in? I tried to see what you were looking at, but couldn't make heads or tails of it. The road, perhaps? It’s pretty…marvelous, isn’t it?"

The young woman chuckled, a light blush coloring her cheeks.

"Oh, it's rather silly. I was…uh, imagining the underground networks that could run beneath this road. The veins of minerals waiting to be discovered, the ancient ruins that likely lie forgotten. This road is a marvel, yes, but think of the mysteries that await just below our feet!"

Garrick chuckled. Something about the woman’s response made him think she was perhaps being a bit guarded about what she’d actually been doing, but he wasn’t one to call someone out just because they were being mysterious. People were allowed to have their secrets.

"Well, when you put it like that,” he said instead, “it does sound quite fascinating. You're a miner then, or an archaeologist?"

"A bit of both, I suppose," she replied, hoisting her rucksack over her shoulder. "I'm always on the lookout for the next great discovery. The surface is just the beginning—true adventure lies in the depths."

Shaking his head in amusement, Garrick offered a nod of understanding.

"Well, if you’re alright then, I’ll let you get back to it—don’t want to stifle anyone’s creativity. I wish you luck in your future underground endeavors. Just, maybe find a safer spot to daydream next time?"

The woman laughed, a sound as clear as a bell.

"Agreed. Safe travels to you and your... is that a vulpid on your shoulder?"

Garrick smiled, looking at Ember—who simply wiggled her nose at the woman.

“Good eye,” he said. “You’re familiar with her kind?”

“Oh, only from tomes,” the woman said. “Never actually seen one—and wasn’t sure if they were even real until just this moment. Special creature, this one.”

“Indeed,” Garrick said, then looked up at the sun. “Well…I suppose I should get going. Once again, nice to meet you—and good luck.”

However, the woman didn’t respond, her attention drawn to the ground again, her mouth agape in fascination. Garrick smirked and just let her be. Far be it from him to make himself the center of attention. He turned and continued moving along with the crowd.

As he meandered down the road, Garrick's initial fascination with the road began to wane. The constant jostling, the abrupt stops by others that forced him to halt or divert his path, the need to occasionally step off the road to allow a particularly large caravan to pass—it all began to grate on him. When visiting Maretown, if the crowds grew to be too cumbersome, he could step into a lower-traffic business or find a quiet alleyway to cross through, or—if worse came to worst—simply leave and return home. Here, he knew, that wasn’t possible. His options were either facing the surging deluge of bodies or taking his chances going off-road.The quiet solitude of Respite for the last two decades had perhaps ill-prepared him for this level of hustle and bustle.

Twenty minutes into his journey, the charm of the new road had thoroughly worn off. The constant bumping into people, the incessant chatter, and the sheer volume of strangers were a stark contrast to the peaceful life he had grown accustomed to.

Garrick sighed. It had been less than an hour, and already he found himself missing the tranquility of his garden, where his biggest concern was whether his shrubs were getting enough sunlight and not whether he'd accidentally step on someone's toes in this people river. The road, a marvel of engineering undoubtedly designed by someone who had never actually had to use it, was packed. It was a constant reminder that the world was moving on—probably to more crowded places.

He tried to adjust his pace, weaving through the crowd with the grace of a three-legged duck. Ember nuzzled against his neck, probably trying to offer comfort—or perhaps just aiming for a better seat to enjoy the show of Garrick's awkward ballet through the masses. It wasn’t that he was experiencing true discomfort—far from it. Garrick rarely felt anything other than at-ease in any situation. However, experiencing traffic for the first time in half a century had a way of dragging him back to that confined feeling he’d often felt before coming here. Sure, he'd navigated through mobs of people in busy cities before, but there was something about it being a stretch of road off into the distance that had a profound psychological effect on him.

Worst of all, if he had to continue at this crawl, he knew it would take him ages to get where he needed to go. He couldn’t exactly use some of his more…sophisticated travel methods with so many in attendance. His eyes found a meandering trail off to the side that led to trees about a quarter-mile away and he could feel the weight of the tortoise shell pendant against his chest. Then, as he sidestepped a particularly enthusiastic group taking up the entire path for what seemed to be a slow-motion race, Garrick mused that maybe, just maybe, his garden had spoiled him.

Alright, he thought, making a decision. Enough of that, then.

And without another consideration, he stepped off the road and toward the trail into the forest.