The dawn broke over the mountains, a reluctant light spilling across the jagged peaks like a thief sneaking into a darkened room. I rose from my thin mattress, the chill of the morning air creeping through the cracks of the old cabin. The world outside was a swirling mass of mist and shadows, remnants of the night clinging to the ground like forgotten memories. I welcomed the familiar routine, the monotony a comfort in a life otherwise steeped in uncertainty.
I shuffled to the hearth, stoking the embers that glowed dully, coaxing them back to life. As the fire crackled and roared, I retrieved my kettle, filled it with water from the tarnished basin, and set it atop the flames. The scent of damp earth wafted through the air as I prepared my sweet tea, the only luxury I allowed myself in this solitary existence. Each sip was a moment of clarity amid the chaos of my thoughts.
With the kettle whistling, I poured the steaming liquid into my chipped mug, savoring the first taste that warmed my insides. I took a seat at the weathered table, where my testorium lay waiting. Its pages were filled with the weight of memories and visions I have witnessed, reflections of a life lived on the edge of a forgotten realm. The ink had bled in places, mirroring the turmoil within me, but the act of writing grounded me.
My simple breakfast awaits, a fresh loaf, fried eggs, grounded cheese and some of my perfectly brewed tea. As I ate, I began to glance through my testorium, deep in thought I wondered “from time to time, I see the past, records of time lost to the inhabitants of this realm. If only I gained these knowledge sooner then. Although in all honesty, I don’t think it will be of any use with these level of info I have seen so far. *sigh* say…..you promised to show me everything, do your best to uphold that promise”. And so I continued with my breakfast, the morning sun began to rise and shine its golden light upon the peaks around me, truly a magnificent and peaceful sight.
Suddenly, a noise broke the peace and quietness in the whole room, the door creaked open, and in strode a young elf. Her name was known as Caelith, she was lively as the wind, contrasting sharply with my subdued presence. She wore a wide grin, her laughter ringing out like chimes, a stark reminder of the vibrancy of life. “Morning, old man!” she teased, her voice a mixture of mischief and warmth. “Old man? Do you have any idea how old I am??” “Umm yeah, aren’t you around sixty or something?” “Sixty?? Did you just say sixty? I’m still mid twenty? Also stop calling me that”?) I replied, my tone flat, but the hint of a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. She was relentless in her banter, her spirit unyielding even as the world outside was often grim and unforgiving. Caelith moved with a grace that belied her size, her hands deftly rearranging the meager kitchen as she prepared for the day ahead. Her short, blond hair shimmered in the dim light, and she possessed an energy that was almost infectious, even if I often felt undeserving of it.
“I’m still convinced you’ve taken pity on me, even tho you shouldn’t” I said, watching her bustle about. There was truth to my jest; she had come into my life when I had little left to offer anyone. It was clear she felt indebted, though she never spoke of it directly. Instead, she channeled that debt into chores and laughter, filling the empty spaces I had carved out for myself. “Pity? Hardly! You’re lucky to have me around, if not for me you would have probably died on that chair of yours” she quipped, tossing a dishrag playfully at my head. “Who else would keep your old bones from turning to dust? Besides, I need you to help me sell these herbs of yours don’t you? They’re not going to deliver themselves.”
We often gathered the exotic mountain herbs that grew in the craggy landscape around us, the mountain aptitude provides rich flows of aether that increases the herbs properties. Selling them was a way to make living for myself as for this time, although my old occupation provides way more income than this but often places risks on my very life. As we prepared to set out, I couldn’t help but admire her calm and playful energy she gives off, something I have lost a long time ago, though she was often loud and unreserved, there was a kindness in her that I couldn’t ignore. I felt a strange sense of purpose in our routine, the back-and-forth teasing a balm for the scars of my past. Yet, beneath the laughter and camaraderie, I sensed the weight of our shared existence, the looming shadows that always felt one step behind us.
“Ready, old man?” she called, her voice bright, yet there was a flicker of something else in her eyes—an awareness of the world outside our fragile bubble. It was clear the moments of that very time she spent there will be forever be engraved in her mind.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, the words tinged with a grim reality. Together, we stepped out into the mist, our breaths mingling with the cold air, a fleeting reminder that even in the darkest corners, there was still light to be found.
“Urgggggg… this is exhausting, my back hurts”, “aren’t you the one who was eager to get to work? We are almost there so don’t complain anymore” I replied as we both gathered baskets full of exotic herbs from the shimmering and cold mountains, strapped to our back, we were a long way from home and heading to the local market within the off skirt town, it was a conjunction between the coast and the territory of Arcania. We often take the long route along the hills to avoid in-road interactions, at least that what I told Caelith. I personal avoid the actual road that leads to the town due to personal reasons.
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Upon our arrival, we meet with our merchant that often buys our exotic herbs for at least a decent price. “ FINALLY…” she said as she dropped the basket full of herbs on the ground, she stretched out and caught her breath, “what??” she said to me while I stood by and stared at her at the corner of my eye “As usual, looks like you can’t keep up with this old man you keep referring to” “Oh spare me, apologies for me not having the stamina of a horse. Is a two hour journey with a basket full of herbs while walking bear footed a joke to you? Also I get we are trying to minimize in-road interactions but still, taking the main route is a lot faster, we can even board an ark-rail system while we are at it.” with no response I made my way through the throng of town folks and traders that filled the square leaving Caelith behind to haggle over herbs with the local vendor. “Did he just…??? *sighs* wished he didn’t keep to himself. Hay Mr. Merchant you still buying?” Just as I turned the corner, the heavy drumbeat of a parade rolled through the streets. It was an anniversary, a tribute to the heroes who once bled to save this realm by uniting the races once more against a common enemy, if only it was such a simple fairytale.
Banners hung above the streets, their faded colors catching the sunlight as humans, elves, and solarians marched in unison, the echoes of their synchronized footsteps reverberating down the cobbled streets. There was a solemn beauty to it, a reminder of the strong bond we all share as one. People around me cheered and threw flowers into the street as Sovereignty knights from the capital passed, each carrying the insignia of the legendary individuals that placed everything on the line, their soul, sanity and will was no exception. Yet, as I watched, a pang of something darker gnawed at me, a familiar ache that reminded me of what corruption still lingered around, beneath all that gleaming metal and polished bravado lies some with hearth of darkness.
I knew well enough that not all battles are fought on open ground. Beneath this parade of unity, the murky currents of corruption still ran deep, political entanglements twisting like roots in the soil. I could see it in the polished smiles of the magistrates on their horses, their presence almost mocking in its grandeur. They sat above the people as if untouchable, reminders that the real power lay in the shadows, the few heroes I trust are still the only ones holding what’s left of our race together, without them, we might as well met our ends.
“This marked our races survival against an impending threat” “Yes, it does, but…weren’t there six great heroes who saved and reunited the races?” “Why yes, there were six but there were rumors that the sixth disappeared” “I heard, the sixth was the one who singlehandedly defeat you know who and disappeared afterwards” “Really? The sixth must be one heck of a powerhouse, praise zoltak the sixth was on our side”
I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation of the townsfolks behind me, their continue chatter was hard to ignore but if what they say is true, I wonder where the sixth is right now? As I returned to the marketplace, I found her waiting near the herb stall, arms crossed, with a sharp look that hinted at both frustration and impatience. Her voice, as always, had an edge to it, and before I could even say a word.
"So, decided to return, have we?" she began, tone sharp but eyes glinting with the faintest trace of amusement. "I’ve only been left here, haggling with mountain-folk and travelers for nearly an eternity. Do you realize what you missed while you were off doing… whatever it is you do?" nodding with a mock solemnity, i glanced over her collection. “I can see you managed just fine,” examining a bundle of herbs she’d arranged with an almost unsettling precision. “Sold a fair bit to the merchant, too. Impressive.” I hoped a mild compliment might ease the sharpness of her gaze, but she rolled her eyes, unfazed.
“Of course, I managed,” she said with a shrug, lifting a bundle of crimson-leafed Aranon root. “More than managed. This lot practically sells itself, though I had to remind more than a few that good mountain herbs don’t come cheap.” She leaned in, voice dropping. “And no, before you ask, I didn’t take the first offer like you always do.” “Wait, you mean you didn’t sell it to the first merchant we meet and this aren’t just leftovers from his purchase?” “His prices were low so I found someone else who is willing to buy them for a good price, nothing wrong with that?”
We began to make our way back, winding through the narrow paths of the market, past stalls hawking everything from relics to relics to strange potions in clouded bottles. I looked over at her, admiring her ease in this setting, her quick retorts that never failed to amuse and frustrate me. But something in her demeanor, her resilience, stirred a more profound reflection within me, a sharp reminder of the harsh undercurrents running through this world.
I knew, perhaps better than most, the sort of weight that corruption could inflict. She was here, living in my small mountain refuge, carrying herself with a pride and tenacity that I could only respect, because of the twisted entities that had left her few other options. She was one of many caught between survival and circumstance and even beyond, one whose resilience was born of necessity rather than choice. Thinking back brings nothing but pain to my heart, if only I…*sigh*
As we walked, I couldn’t help but think of the path she might have had if her world weren’t tainted by those who inhabits corruption, the invisible force that held power and burrowed deep within our very civilization. The silence between us grew, but it was a shared silence, heavy with unspoken understanding. And despite her earlier frustration, she gave me a faint, almost knowing smirk, as if sensing my thoughts.
“Something on your mind, old man?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
I shook my head, the slightest smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. "Just... glad you’re safe, that’s all." “Safe??” “Uhh..I mean, I’m glad you are here, here…right here”
“Pfft…Hahhahahahahah!!! Oh, please," she chuckled, her voice rising with each word, a sparkle in her eyes. "You? Glad? Now that’s rich!" He shook her head, shoulders shaking as she stifled another laugh, though a few more snickers escaped. The sound was light, almost contagious, her usual wit softened into a genuine, mirthful laugh. She took a deep breath, trying to regain composure, but her smirk betrayed her. "Honestly," she managed, still catching her breath, wiping away a stray tear from the corner of her eye. “I know what buzzing through that head of yours, but I’m telling you to forget it, it all in the past, as long as I am here, I’m fine the way things already are. So move it old man” only to hit me in the rear and took a sprint forward.