Morning came with the sound of rattling carts and shouting voices, as the masses of the city began their day. Azrael rose with far less energy than the bustling crowds on the streets.

Getting dressed, he slipped his shirt on after having taken it off to sleep. He stretched his arms up, before bending down to touch his toes. Lastly, he stretched his neck. The bed hadn’t been as comfy as he’d hoped. It might have almost been better to have slept in the stables.

After being used by many passing travellers, the straw that made up the mattress had been compressed, losing some of its inherent springiness. Still, it was better than sleeping on the cold hard ground. At least he’d had a blanket and a roof over his head.

Descending downstairs Azrael found the room almost empty, many of the travellers presumably having risen early to continue their travels. Azrael could sympathise. Already the constant noise from outside was starting to grate on his nerves.

The barkeeper, cleaning a mug despite the early hour, noticed Azrael coming down the stairs and smiled. As Azrael returned it, the big man turned to shout something to someone and by the time Azrael had reached the last step the waitress from last night was bringing out a bowl of last night’s soup with bread.

“My husband tells me that you’re quite a joker.” She said with a kind smile, as she brought his food over.

Azrael could only grin sheepishly, without quite knowing how to answer. Luckily, he wasn’t expected to and he quickly found himself seated at a table, the food served in front of him.

He turned to look at the barkeeper as his wife returned to the kitchen. The man gave him a grin, before busying himself with cleaning another mug.

Azrael shook his head as a random though replaced the last one he had. Was being buff and constantly cleaning a mug a requirement for running an establishment like this?

Instead of breaking his head by trying to think of those things, he turned his attention to the food.

After being left to settle for a night the flavours had all thoroughly sunken in, making the food more enjoyable than last night. He did wish had had another mug of ale though. It wasn’t so much that he wanted a drink than that the flavours had complemented each other well.

Still, the stew vanished all too quickly and he found himself outside with Bucky again, after having thanked the barkeeper and his wife for the meal. They hadn’t even taken any payment when he’d insisted. He shook his head and saddled up Bucky.

It took him a while as he realised that he didn’t have much of a clue how everything went on properly. Usually, in games, you just summoned a mount and it would take you where you wanted. You didn’t have to worry about a saddle, or a harness. Here though? Here it mattered.

He just hadn’t realised it, as he’d found Bucky tied up in his stall. The two boys had ridden him and the old grouch had just tied up the horse uncaring. Azrael, now that he realised it, hadn’t been much better. In the evenings he’d always just take the saddle off and the bit in the horse’s mouth out, using the reins to tie him to a tree or something. No wonder Bucky always tried to throw him off when he got back on.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“Sorry about that” Azrael said, stroking the horse’s flank.

Bucky just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Yeah, I’ll take better care from now on.”

Bucky just snorted and let Azrael lead him out of the stables.

The main street was crowded, with many people all trying to head towards their respective destinations.

Knuckles white on Bucky’s reins, Azrael tried to thread his way through the throng. Carts, other riders leading their horses and far too many people were trying to move through the street.

The limited space was only made worse by vendors on the roadsides, desperately trying to get passers-by to glance at their wares. Opportunistic players were mixed in amongst the experienced NPCs. Azrael just pulled the soul mist tighter around his spark.

Inside the walls of the city the throng somehow got worse, though carts became less frequent.

Eventually though, he managed to make his way out of the city and found the road heading west. Relieved to be out of the bustling crowds Azrael hopped into Bucky’s saddle and pointed towards the horizon.

“Onwards!”

Bucky complied and neither of them looked back, simply glad to be out of the city again.

Around late afternoon, light grey clouds rolled over heralding a spring shower. They were in an open plain, meaning there was no shelter from the light drizzle when it began. Both horse and rider pressed on.

Azrael reasoned that if they kept on moving then they’d stay warm, or at least Bucky would. Azrael just hoped that they’d find some shelter before his clothes got completely soaked.

For the rest of the day the two travelled, passing a few others on their way. The rain itself was a constant companion, though sometime the clouds would part allowing the sun to peek through and warm the unfortunate rider.

It was not like the light drizzle was that bad. The sun dried much of what fell, but when it did drizzle the fine droplets would pool on Azrael’s hair and eyelashes, before dripping into his eyes, or sliding down into his shirt. It was uncomfortable.

Before evening though the rain decided to give Azrael a reprise, the sun almost completely drying his damp clothes in the last few hours before it set. Both horse and rider were thankful and decided to call it an evening when the sun stopped gracing them with its warmth.

The moon rose as the sun set, like two watchers changing guard. Not that there was anywhere for anyone to hide. The plain Azrael was traveling on was as flat and a devoid of trees, bushes or shrubbery as could be.

A single rock pile beside a lake presented a good a place to spend the night as any. The pile, barely taller than Azrael himself presented the only form of shelter that he could see. The stones would hopefully act as a windbreak.

Leading the horse over to their destination, Azrael removed both the saddle and the bridle. A handful of grass was what he used to rub the horse down with, before settling in to watch the last of washes of fiery colour fade into the night.

For the longest of times he seemed to watch the pinks, reds, oranges and yellows reflected in the lake give way to the star spangle night sky. Even then Azrael felt compelled to watch. There was something here, something… familiar?

He ran a hand through his hair, unable to pin the feeling down. It hovered there, just out of reach. It was there. He knew it, but it refused to materialise.

Lazily he shot a [Fire Bullet] into the lake, watching it fizzle out. Ripples disturbed the smooth surface, sending the reflected stars dancing.

Nothing.

Nothing moved. Nothing changed.

Even Bucky just looked up uninterested from where he was grazing. The grassy plain was just as quiet as the lake, though he could hear insects amongst the grass. A bird of prey, barely a shadow against the night sky, swooped in for a kill. If there was a danger here that he didn’t know about then they were quite carefree.

He stretched [Soul Sense] as far as it could go, but was unable to pick up any lurking humans. He sighed in defeat. The answer, it would come in time. He knew that, but it didn’t make it any less easy to ignore.

Resigned he pressed himself closer to the rocks and pulled his clothes in tighter. Since nightfall the evening chill settled in.

Shaping two daggers from the stones behind him, he fell asleep with them in his grip.

Above him the full moon reflected looked down, even as its own reflection mirrored in the lake looked up.