Unexpected kick from an old tall knight seems to be fatal. We are flabbergasted. That kick was powerful, and the pointy, heavy steel boot adds massive and possibly mortal damage to the fragile body.

Pocco’s lifeless body flies so far in the direction behind the knight that I cannot comprehend what just happened. My sight lands on the steel boot with a spike on top, now covered in blood. Astrid is immediately broken and slumps down; Mike has to drag her to the side as fast as possible.

I scream and growl. Dual-wielding my two broken sticks, my sight keeps fogging. The feeling that I’m just moments or gestures away from unimaginable pain or death pumps massive amounts of adrenaline into me. My eyes dance around the target, checking for any opening where I could bury one of my sharp broken sticks.

There is none.

The knight walks around in a circle, and we switch our positions. Mike drags Astrid through the tall grass away from the knight, toward the crossroads behind him.

The knight manages to move towards me.

I back away a few more steps as fast as possible. Surprised by his lack of speed, all my fear dissipates.

He is too slow. Too slow to be a match for young people wearing clothes and sneakers. His armor must feel like a greenhouse. I turn around, grab the carcass of the cat with a blood-stained belly, and we run.

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The knight stops following us after a few seconds of straightforward running. His name over his head disappears, and he returns to his position.

Mike is comforting and dragging the mourning Astrid all the way. Meanwhile, I decide to bury the small brave warrior in the loose soil that I can easily dig with my bare hands. His small grave lies near the path that leads up to the small mountain pass in the distance.

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The sunset is coming; our sneakers are muddy and dirty. My mouth feels like biting into a dry towel. The only liquid that touches my dry lips is my own salty sweat. Hungry and exhausted on every level, I can finally see something in the distance. It's a shack with a wacky sign: “Provisions.”

I head to the location without thinking twice and open the creaking door. Mike and mourning Astrid follow me inside. It is a tiny store with food and basic medieval-like items on display. My stomach responds immediately after seeing the pastry. There is an old, skinny, scarred man with only one arm and no legs sitting on a wooden chair. He looks bored and completely uninterested in us.

“He... Hello...” I say with uncertainty, shocked by his appearance. “Can you give us any directions? Where are we?”

He looks me in the eye and responds calmly, as if this were standard procedure.

"This information will cost you 10 gold."

"Well, we don't have any, old man. So?" Mike interjects, standing confidently with his shoulders squared.

I look at him, confused. What the hell is this guy trying to achieve? Intimidate an old cripple after he was almost slashed in half by the knight?

“Any other way to pay or help?” I interfere.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The merchant rolls his eyes and responds, “Let me think.” He makes an intentional pause and then continues,

“No.” He measures us up and down afterward with his bulging eyes.

“Actually, maybe you can do something.”

He points his only tendinous hand to the left and says, “Up the hill is a small castle ruin, between the rocky formations, sealing the route further. Go through and open the blocked front gate. Then you can have whatever you want from the store. Do you accept it?” He almost lost all his breath telling us this.

That's it? Just open the jammed gate? I think quietly, salivating over the piece of bread. Is this the first quest? We look at each other, a little worried. Mike nods at me.

“Yes, we accept.”

Rolling my eyes up and to the side, I await some notification, but nothing happens. Mike slides away through the half-closed creaky door with Astrid. I leave last, looking at the expression of the old man. He lets out a small grin as I leave the shop; small details like this leave me concerned.

Astrid asks suspiciously, “Are we really doing this?”

"It's getting really dark. I'm tired, hungry, and thirstier than ever," Mike says, counting off his needs on the fingers of his left hand.

“The least we can do is go to that ruin, maybe?”

“Where else can we spend the night? Returning past the knight is risky at dusk and in our state now,” I suggest.

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We walk up the narrow rocky road, Mike using his smartphone to light the way.

“Raise the light; I see some structure,” I ask him. The narrow opening between two steep rocky hills is sealed with one square tower without a roof. It looks highly damaged. A small yet scenic entrance with one room is connected to that tower. The stone staircase leads inside; we step carefully and vigilantly inside.

Completely empty and dimly lit, I look up and am startled. Patterned carpet, wooden chairs, cabinets, dining table with all the cutlery, candlesticks, food, and bottles are upside down on the ceiling. The wax from burning candles drips down. Even the flame burns opposite.

“Is this the magic in this world?” says Astrid while Mike stares up with a slightly opened mouth.

I can’t take my eyes off those circular bread buns.

“Maybe we can throw something up and test if it will...” Before even finishing my sentence, I see Mike's stick swinging up in the middle of the table. All the things knocked down by the stick fall down.

One bottle of some kind of liquid breaks and spills, while others remain intact. Astrid touches it with her fingers and gives it a sniff.

“It's like beer, maybe weathered a little.”

Even the thought of old beer makes my stomach growl. I start throwing my broken half sticks up in the air, mindlessly trying to hit something else. The bread, plates, candlesticks, and cutlery—everything falls until the table is completely clear. One chair falls down too after I accidentally hit it with my stick. It breaks to pieces.

Other heavy furniture does not move even a little if we hit it, so we leave it.

“Let's feast,” says Mike, holding the bread and one bottle victoriously.

“Ugh, that pastry is really hard, almost impossible to eat, but still better than nothing,” he notes while crunching loudly.

I eat half of the dry bread, moistening it with bubbly ale. I’m either desperately hungry, or this combination is delicious. While almost losing all my teeth nibbling the bread stick, I save all the extra in my inventory.

Counting up the stuff on the ground, we decide to evenly distribute food and beverage between us.

I end up with one extra loaf of bread and one full bottle.

Astrid, meanwhile, picks up a small sack of coins that fell from the table and counts them. There are 36 coins inside.

She splits them evenly and throws 12 coins with a satchel at me. The rest she divides with Mike.

“It’s okay; they store together as a small pile in one slot.” She gestures at me not to return the empty satchel.

Decorated edges with uneven dents. A dragon head on heads and dragon body with a large spiky tail on tails. “This is literally perfect for a coin toss.”

“Ugh, isn't it always the ruler on the coins?” I ask.

“I guess, but if dragons exist, we are done,” says Mike.

“Don't guess; now we can buy the knowledge about this world from the merchant,” notes Astrid.

I ask in a tired voice, “Are we doing the gate thing or sleeping here and waiting through the night?”

“Opening the gate is not a big deal. Let's do it first and then come back here,” Mike is adamant.

Astrid stays quiet, and I consider this as her agreement.

The only way to continue from this room is through an opening like a small tunnel in the stone wall in front of us. It is lined with wooden beams, and an old dirty cloth covers it like a curtain.

I decide to crawl through first; Astrid follows, and Mike backs her up.