“Ruenr, why have I been primarily trained against multiple people if I can still barely beat any of the guards in a one-on-one?”

Ari broached the question as the two were getting ready for their departure. With a plan for a goodbye breakfast, Ruenr woke Ari up extra early to double check everything so they could get on the road immediately after eating. Ari wanted to pack up the night before, but Ruenr said it was his last day to train in a safe environment and that he needed to put on a good show to alleviate Miss Colette’s worries.

“Because you won’t be encountering skilled solo combatants outside of an arena or duel. You aren’t a good fighter, hell you aren’t even average by my standards. That means you won’t be dueling or fighting in any arenas, especially not where we are going. Your little play-fighting was primarily to train you against a mix of larger and smaller monsters that will try and overwhelm you with numbers. They shouldn’t be an issue ‘one-on-one’.”

Ari activated the runescript tattoos that Ruenr put on his back and chest, storing some supplies in the space created by the magic. Cyrus insisted he still carry some supplies in a bag to allay suspicions but since Ruenr had to carry all of his gear excluding his scythe, Ari argued he could just claim Ruenr had his supplies. The explanation that Ruenr would be hiding anytime a Henos native approached meant that he still was forced to haul around some basic travel gear in a leather backpack that Miss Colette commissioned for him.

“You claim to be a shepherd, but you live in a mansion. You claim to work with the land, but you don’t tend the fields or orchards. You have your little garden and your sheep, but that seems more of a hobby than a profession.”

“Umm. Why are you pointing this out? I already explained that Miss Colette took me in at a young age and tried to pamper me even worse than this.”

“Because on our travels you will meet real farmers and real shepherds. If you try to associate with them and fit in, you are going to be surprised when you see how real peasants live in rural areas. This is one of the wealthier regions of the false emperor’s lands and even here you lived like some noble bastard who was relegated to go play as a landworker to be removed from the affairs of some lord’s true progeny.”

Ari stopped packing and stared up at the man with a quizzical expression.

“Are you okay Ruenr? You don’t normally talk this much unless it’s about fighting or instructions on your language.”

Ruenr performed his barking and yelping laugh, which Ari still got shudders when he heard.

“How often do you visit the village over the hills?”

“Once or twice every few months why?”

“How many people know you there, Ari.”

“What do you mean?”

Ruenr shook his head, clearly displeased with Ari’s lack of understanding.

“How many people consider you more than a stranger who arrives every once in a while to sight see? This house has servants who perform the shopping and who sell the wool and fruits you gather. Name the villagers there and their occupations.”

“Well obviously I can’t do that I only know the local Judge, what is the point of this Ruenr?”

“The point is that you aren’t a war orphan or a landworker in their eyes, you're a minor noble or perhaps some noble's lover or close friend. When you meet other people who live like the villagers here, they will make the same conclusions. The problem is that when you meet someone of your perceived standing, they are going to hone in on the reality of your station and look down on you or not acknowledge you at all.”

“You are well informed for someone who grew up in a swamp with no nearby villages or towns within several days' walk.”

“I spent a few years in a kingdom like this, I made some close friends there. One of them was a noble that fled her family to be free, the other was an assassin trying to become a hero, and the last was a war machine that wanted nothing but to be a farmer. Through them I learned a lot about society. I learned that it is filled with people who want to be anything but what they are or became, and that people who know how will spot it and use it against you.”

“Did they manage it?”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Manage what?”

“Did they reach their goals? Did the noble woman become free from her family’s influence? Was the assassin redeemed? Is the other one a farmer now? Did they manage to do what they set out to do?”

Ruenr remained silent for a moment, his usually unreadable expression showing fondness and sadness in equal measure. He then looked at Ari, who was waiting for a response instead of packing, and smacked him on the side of the head.

“Less talking, pack up.”

The lumbering titan then made his way out of Ari’s suite leaving the young man alone. Ari knew he was going to be at odds with the environment, both socially and in a more literal sense. He recognized he was a bunch of walking contradictions. He was a poor orphan with no property to his own and no real income to speak of, yet he lived wealthier than many successful merchants and scholars. Never attending a school or having official tutors to grant him certifications or degrees marked him as uneducated, yet he was skilled with many languages and was competent with the seven liberal arts. He lacked knowledge of most social norms and understandings of the upper and lower classes of society, he was bound to stick out as odd no matter where he went. At least he could be thankful they planned to travel primarily off of paths and roads, and were headed to the most uninhabited regions within country. Ari would certainly miss Colette, Cyrus, Vandron, Amsre and some of the nicer guards, a few of the servants, and of course his sheep.

However, he was thankful to be able to experience something more akin to the solitude he craved. The only times he was ever alone was when he left with his sheep to graze, and he still considered them company despite them being animals. Ruenr was slightly more vocal than the sheep, but he could go several days without talking. The last few years left no time for introspection, and the silent pursuit of harmonizing with and understanding nature was something he had been looking forward to more and more since Vandron first arrived. Ruenr had his own goals in the south, he was sure of it, so Ari was hopeful that there would be times he could be left alone. Truly alone and by himself.

When breakfast came it was a much less somber affair than Ari expected, although Miss Colette looked perpetually on the verge of tears, she managed to laugh and enjoy the experience. Cyrus seemed a bit hungover, but he was giddy to travel himself. He told Ari before he went to bed the night before that he would be returning from his journey with more lore of their people. While he was excited about the lore and legacy of his people, he was mostly doing this out of a sense of duty he felt toward Miss Colette’s late husband. Sir Vandron arriving was seen by Cyrus as providence but Ari still wasn’t convinced of the coincidence. Sir Vandron claimed it was purely because of the flower that he arrived when he did, and if Colette was expecting him like she said it made some sense. Ari was skeptical. He wasn’t sure why, but his gut told him things weren’t as they seem.

Ari remained quiet through most of the breakfast celebrations, he occasionally asked questions to have people clarify when they mentioned something he was unfamiliar with but that was it. It was a reflection not of his unease, but of how he normally is. He is usually quiet and reserved, keeping to himself. These past few years have forced him to be more social with how frequently the manor had guests but most of the servants were aware of Ari’s preference for peace and they had an understanding in place as they left each other alone. The only person more quiet than Ari was Ruenr, Ruenr made the young man seem like a social butterfly in comparison.

Colette was still obviously uncomfortable with the beastman, but Cyrus had come to respect him for his martial ability and ability to train others. Although Ruenr focused primarily on Ari’s martial prowess, he did run a few exercises and training sessions with Cyrus as well as the merchant’s and Lady Laine’s guards. Amsre was probably the closest with Ruenr aside from Ari and Vandron, but the relationship between Vandron wasn’t one of teacher and student like everyone else. It was difficult to parse, because the two spoke almost exclusively in the elf language and Colette was the only other person that spoke any of it. The language was mostly spoken farther west, in the great forests where the last of elf civilization is. Apparently, they mostly reside around the ruins of the last Magocracy, the societies and nations that made up the Era of Magic. Sir Vandron refused to speak about it, and Colette was tight lipped too, but she often brought Ari books from the library she worked at which was where he gleaned most of his insights about it from. That along with minor eavesdropping.

Lady Colette Laine and Master Merchant Cyrus III were the first of those to depart. Cyrus gave Ari a firm handshake, one that he repeated with Sir Vandron and Ruenr, but Miss Colette gave Ari a deep hug. She hugged her uncle as well, but simply offered a nod to Ruenr that the beastly warrior returned in kind. The two carriages and the guard contingents were far down the road toward Lainebari before any of the remaining three spoke.

“Ari, I am going to give you a coin to hold on to. It will allow me to find you if for some reason you and Ruenr become separated, but with how good his sense of smell is I doubt that will happen even with all the distractions of the southern wilds. Ruenr, till we meet again. Do you best not to let the lad get killed.”

Ruenr gave a low chuckle to that, or perhaps just mimicked one since it was so different from his normal laughter. Ari wasn’t sure why the champion did that sometimes, and never found it appropriate to ask. Vandron offered the coin to Ari, it was written in what appeared to be the elf language, and was very clearly old but shined like it was recently polished. There wasn’t even a single scratch on it.

“If you come across another elf, that coin should be your last resort to attempt diplomacy if for some reason you become at odds with them. Depending on which faction the elf belongs to, they will either treat you with respect and honor or kill you on site. I won’t tell you more because knowledge is dangerous and, like I said, the coin is a last resort for an opponent you can’t beat or escape.”

Sir Vandron, one of two Junior Archwizards of the Imperial Mage Corps, materialized a scroll in front of him and performed the ritual to activate the magic. With a flash of light, the elf floated briefly in the air and slowly faded away, the scroll turning to ashes and dispersing just as the wizard disappeared. Without further fanfare, Ari the below average warrior set out with The Champion of Gor Asim.