The forest cleared to reveal a calm stream of water. Finn had been eager to finally inspect the last details of his person. He hunched over by the river and displayed a clear lack of amazement. A stern looking young man peered back at him. Just like Sithri, his skin was soft and pale, the likes of a young master of nobility. Their appearances were well-groomed, requiring more time to maintain than he could bother. His gaze was sharp and serious, a look completely unsuited for his personality.

“It may not be of your taste, but I’m rather fond of your appearance” Or rather she was fond of Finac's appearance. Sithri was clearly struggling with complementing a stranger.

“Oh?”. Slowly he approached with a crooked smile as if asking for more compliments she wouldn’t be able to make.

Realizing it was a losing battle Vi had turned and started walking upriver. “Well, it’s yours now so tend to it as you see fit” Finn grinned as he celebrated his first strategic victory.

**********************

A commotion trailed the couple into the town. Even beast of labor eyed them as they walked up into the Inn. A quick self-inspection reminded him that neither could pass for simple townsfolk. Gossip would be made from the most menial impressions.

They had planned to momentarily settle half a day’s walk north in the town of Redding, where they would reside until he could function as an ordinary citizen. Finn followed half a step behind Sithri as she opened the wooden doors. A scrawny, fidgety man had appeared from under the counter. He brandished a large mustache, a common trap aging men fell into as their hairlines receded. The mustache was brown and burly and proved a comical juxtaposition for a figure of his size.

Noticing the young couple, the men had locked eyes, despite Sithri clearly leading the way. His guard visibly raised when he noticed that Finn would be taking a backseat in introductions.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“We require food and lodging for several days,” She said commandingly, as the Inn-keeper had still been shifting his eyes to Finn.

“Right” The scrawny man had started leaning back in defense. Their approach had been way too brazen. “Will that be one room or two?”

Realizing her mistake, she looked back to exchange glances. Her voice softened “My name is Sithri and this is Finn. We are adventurers who are looking for work in the midst of our travels. We have gold to pay for a room, but are willing to work for our keep as well”

The inn-keeper loosened up and proceeded with negotiations for lodging. It was then that Finn had begun to understand how vastly he underestimated the effort expected of him in his journey.

They spent mornings gathering gold and supplies. Money was short, and the town was fortunately low on manpower. Often the farmer’s wife requested help with rebuilding broken aspects of her land and the inn-keeper with cleaning during the more traveled part of the year.

Evenings were reserved for learning magic. Finac had been capable and trained as a magician, but his mastery failed to transfer over. It would be no different from starting from scratch. Spells required concentration and mental preparation unprepared by his previous life.

Magic training wouldn't last long. It didn't take many spells for his mind to lose its sharpness. Often, a collapsed Finn would be carried back to the Inn for lessons of language and culture. While the language was familiar enough, almost mimicking the pseudo-medieval speech seen in late night campaigns of dungeons and dragons, the written language was almost runic. Reading had proved easy enough. Letters were simply sounded out in order. Writing, however, could only be challenged with experience. There were multiple sequences of letters that shared the same sound, and only by memory could one learn the proper form.

Night would finally come, and he would relish its release. They shared a bed in a small wooden room in the corner of the Inn. He had hoped for a separate room but considered how accustomed Sithri would be to Finac’s company in bed. He still knew little of the young woman brushed up against his back as well as her relationship to the man he had replaced.

A sense of agitation welled within him towards his growing expectations. Sithri was little more than a stranger to him, yet she asked for so much. Even worse, he had yet grown attached his new life. To the villagers, everyday task were bestowed a significance denied to him. He had already died and cared little about dying again. Simply put, he felt as if he was playing another person’s save file, having to deal with outcomes of choices that he’s never made.

He would continue nonetheless. Only a fool quits before the journey starts.