As Elara and the group emerged from the forest, the sight of a hilly field stretched out before them, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. Across the landscape were wooden houses, nestled closely together along narrow dirt paths. The arrangement of the dwellings created a sense of intimacy and community. Elara's eyes wandered over the varied structures, taking in the modest cottages with their thatched roofs and the larger, more imposing homes that stood proudly among them. The exteriors of the houses were adorned with vibrant bursts of color, from the painted shutters to the flower boxes that graced the windowsills. The sight brought a smile to her face, reminding her of the simple joys that could be found in such a quaint village.
Her gaze was drawn to the wooden wall that encircled the village, a protective barrier that stood tall and strong. As they approached the village, Esme took the lead, her confident stride guiding them forward. As they drew nearer, Esme spoke out, "it's strange," she mused, her eyes scanning the seemingly deserted village from a distance. "Why isn't anyone outside?"
Elara considered the possibility, her gaze drifting over the empty paths and quiet homes. "Maybe it's dinnertime," she suggested, trying to find a logical explanation for the eerie stillness that hung over the village.
Esme hummed in agreement, but Elara could sense the skepticism in her tone. The warrior's instincts were clearly on high alert, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease as they approached the wooden gate that marked the entrance to the village. Just as they reached the gate, a voice stopped them in their tracks. Elara froze, her heart skipping a beat as she glanced at her companions, trying to gauge their reactions.
Esme, ever the leader, stepped forward and addressed the unseen speaker. "We are a team from the Adventuring Guild," she declared, her voice calm and assured. "We're looking for a place to stay and food to eat. We would be fine sleeping in a barn, and we're willing to pay for our accommodations."
There was a moment of silence, and Elara strained her ears to catch the low murmur of voices, as if the unseen speaker were conferring with someone else. Then the young voice spoke again, this time with a hint of suspicion. "Can you confirm that all of you are indeed from the Adventuring Guild?"
Elara's eyes darted to Esme, wondering how the warrior would respond. She herself was not a member of the guild, and she worried that this might cause complications.
But Esme, without missing a beat, replied with unwavering confidence. "Yes, we are all part of the Adventuring Guild," she lied smoothly. "We're here to take care of the dungeon."
As the gates creaked open, Elara's eyes were drawn to the two young men standing before them. The one in front stood tall, his hand resting on the hilt of a short sword at his side. Despite his attempts to appear confident, she could see the nervousness in his eyes as he took in the sight of the adventurers. His eyes jumping from person to person. Beside him stood another boy, slightly older but still not quite a man. He, too, seemed unsure of how to react to the group's presence.
Esme stepped forward. "Lead the way," she said to the first boy, her voice calm and authoritative.
The boy nodded, his nervousness still evident in the way he moved. He hurried along, gesturing for the group to follow him. Elara fell into step beside Esme, with Tirn and Ignatius trailing behind them. The village itself seemed eerily quiet, with no sign of any other inhabitants. The only sounds were the crunching of their footsteps on the dirt path and the occasional rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. Elara glanced at Esme, trying to gauge her reaction to the situation. The warrior's face was impassive, but she could sense the tension in her muscles, as if she were ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. As they approached the outskirts of the village, Elara caught sight of a large wooden structure that could only be a barn. It looked old and weathered, but sturdy enough to provide shelter for the night.
The boy came to a stop in front of the barn, turning to face the group. "This is it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You can stay here for the night."
Elara watched as the boy bravely held out his hand, palm upwards. "It will cost 5 copper coins per person," he said, his voice wavering slightly.
The mention of copper coins caught her attention. It was the first time she had heard of any form of currency in this strange world. Her mind wandered, wondering about the value of these coins and how they were used in this society.
Esme grinned, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "That's quite expensive for a barn," she remarked, her tone playful.
The boy's nervousness seemed to intensify, and he looked ready to change his mind. But before he could speak, Esme reached into the satchel at her side and pulled out a drawstring purse. With a deft movement, she extracted 20 copper coins and handed them to the boy.
Elara noticed the sheen of sweat on the boy's forehead as he accepted the coins, his hand trembling slightly. "Someone will come with some food later," he mumbled before turning and running away, his footsteps echoing in the quiet village.
Esme chuckled, clearly amused by the boy's reaction. Elara found herself smiling as well, finding the warrior's playful nature endearing.
"Are you done tormenting the boy?" Ignatius asked, his voice tinged with exasperation. Esme's laughter rang out, clear and joyful. "He gave some cute reactions," she said, her eyes twinkling.
Tirn, seemingly uninterested in the exchange, walked past them and entered the barn. Elara followed, leaving Esme and Ignatius to their bickering. As she stepped into the barn, she took in the musty scent of hay and the soft rustling of straw beneath her feet. The space was dimly lit, with shafts of light filtering through the gaps in the wooden walls.
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She turned to Tirn, curiosity shining in her eyes. "Do you do this often?" she asked, gesturing to the barn around them. "Sleep in barns, I mean."
Tirn, his back still turned to her, nodded. "Yes," he replied, his voice gruff. "It's cheap, and usually safer than bunking with strangers."
A warmth spread through her chest at his words. She couldn't help but wonder if they no longer considered her a stranger. The thought brought a small smile to her face as she watched him continue his inspection of the barn.
Esme and Ignatius walked in, coming to stand beside Elara. They took in their surroundings, and Ignatius remarked with a hint of sarcasm, "Cozy."
Esme merely smiled, seemingly unfazed by the rustic accommodations. She strode forward, gesturing for Elara to follow. "Since you've never slept in a barn before," Esme said, her tone light and playful, "I, the self-appointed master of making the most comfortable bedding, will show you how it's done."
Elara's brows furrowed in confusion. Why did Esme assume she had never done this before? Deciding to satisfy her curiosity, she asked, "What makes you think I've never slept in a barn?"
Ignatius, having overheard the question, turned to her with a condescending look. "You're a capital girl," he stated matter-of-factly. "One look at you tells me you've never been in the thick of things, never had to fend for yourself out here."
He gestured toward her hair, smooth and shiny despite their circumstances. "Expensive hair products," he noted with a hint of sarcasm. "And those hands, they look as soft as silk. No calluses, no roughness from wielding a tool or weapon."
Elara was taken aback by his astute observations. The shampoo she had salvaged from the sky fortress explained her well-kept hair, but as for the rest, she found herself at a loss for words. It was true that she had never wielded a weapon before. The first time had been a mere 21 days ago.
Ignatius continued, his gaze sweeping over her face. "And your complexion," he added. "No sunburns, no scars. You've led a sheltered life, haven't you?"
Elara remained silent, feeling a pang of self-consciousness under his scrutinizing gaze. She had never realized how much her appearance revealed about her upbringing until now. Her mind began to wander as she pondered his words. Upbringing? Did her appearance truly reveal so much about her past? She tried to recall memories of her childhood, but to her surprise, she drew a blank. Panic rose within her as she realized she couldn't remember any specific details about her early life. When she had been conversing with Flamebeard, thoughts of her friends and parents had flitted through her mind. But now, as she actively tried to grasp those memories, they seemed to slip away like wisps of smoke. The more she reached for them, the more elusive they became.
Before Elara could delve deeper into the unsettling realization, Esme's gentle touch on her shoulder interrupted her spiraling thoughts. The warrior's voice was reassuring as she spoke, "It's alright to be a bit more naive about the world, Alira. We won't judge you for your lack of knowledge."
Esme's words brought a sense of comfort to her, and she found herself grateful for the warrior's understanding. With a deep breath, she pushed aside the troubling thoughts about her missing memories and focused on the task at hand.
Esme guided Elara's attention to the pile of straw stacked on one side of the barn. "Let's focus on making a comfortable bed out of this straw," she suggested, her tone light and encouraging.
Elara nodded, eager to distract herself from the lingering unease. She followed Esme's lead, watching as the warrior demonstrated how to arrange the straw to create a cozy sleeping area. As they worked together, she found herself immersed in the simple task.
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As she settled onto her own makeshift bed for the night, she felt the weight of exhaustion wash over her. The events of the day had taken their toll, and her body yearned for rest. She leaned back, allowing herself a moment to observe her companions. Elara watched as Tirn meticulously arranged the straw, creating a comfortable bed for Ignatius, having already finished his own preparation. The mage sat on a nearby crate, his eyes closed, lost in thought or perhaps meditation. She couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind.
Her gaze was drawn to Esme, who was in the process of removing her armor. The warrior's movements were practiced and efficient, but Elara couldn't help but notice the heaviness of the armor. Each piece looked like it carried a significant weight. As Esme continued to shed her armor, she found herself transfixed by the warrior's form. Beneath the metal plates, she wore a high-necked black top that clung to her body like a second skin. The fabric accentuated the curves of her biceps and triceps, revealing the defined muscles that lay beneath. Her eyes traced the lines of Esme's arms, marveling at the strength and power they conveyed. The power she had witnessed.
Lost in her observations, Elara didn't realize that Esme had caught her staring. The warrior's dark eyes met hers, and a playful wink followed. Heat rushed to Elara's cheeks, and she quickly turned her face away, embarrassed at having been noticed.
Despite the innocence of her gaze, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of self-consciousness. She had merely been admiring Esme's physique, appreciating the warrior's strength and dedication. Yet, being caught in the act made her feel like a child with her hand in the cookie jar. Her mind wandered, trying to make sense of her reaction. She had never been one to shy away from admiring beauty, whether it be in nature or in people. But something about Esme's presence, her confidence and raw power, made her feel a mix of awe and intimidation. Is that the aura of a seasoned adventurer?
She risked another glance at Esme, who had resumed removing her armor. The warrior seemed unfazed by the exchange, her focus solely on the task at hand. She couldn't help but admire her composure and the ease with which she carried herself. She wanted to be more like her.
The sound of footsteps echoed outside the weathered wooden walls of the barn, followed by a woman's voice. "May I enter? I have the promised food with me," she called out.
Elara watched as Esme, now free of her armor, responded to the woman's request. "Yes, please come in," the warrior invited, her voice warm and welcoming.
The door to the barn creaked open, and a young woman stepped inside. Elara's eyes were drawn to her brown hair, neatly braided and cascading down her back. The woman wore a dark green dress that swayed gently with each step she took. On her arm, she carried a woven basket, presumably containing the promised food. Ignatius and Tirn remained where they were, their eyes following the woman's movements but making no effort to approach. Elara, however, felt curious enough to rise from her makeshift bed. She walked closer, wanting to get a better look at the newcomer.
Esme, ever the gracious host, strode up to the woman with a friendly smile. The woman extended the basket towards her, and Esme accepted it with a nod of gratitude. As Elara observed the interaction, she noticed that the woman lingered, her eyes darting between Esme and the others. It seemed as though she wanted to say something, but was still mustering the courage to speak.
Esme, perceptive as always, picked up on the woman's hesitation. "Would you like to stay for a bit?" she offered, her tone inviting and warm.
The woman's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected invitation. After a moment's consideration, she nodded, a small smile gracing her lips. Esme gestured for her to come further into the barn, and the woman cautiously stepped forward, her gaze flickering around the dimly lit space. Elara couldn't help but feel a sense of intrigue as she watched the woman's tentative movements. There was something about her demeanor that suggested she had more to say.