Night had draped its dark shroud over the Whispering Woods, the trees whispering ancient secrets under the silver glow of the moon. Alex moved silently through the cool shadows, his breath steady but mind racing.
I have to return to the Imperial Real, he thought, clutching the worn leather satchel at his side. Old Clif's house holds gold coins—eight of them, I remember. Enough to see me through the Western Realms… if I can even make it that far.
The gates of the empire loomed ahead, stark against the night sky. Two guards stood posted, their silhouettes sharp and still beneath flickering torchlight. Alex melted into the darkness near a gnarled tree, watching.
"I'm dying to get home soon," Guard One muttered, voice rough as gravel. "My shift's nearly over."
"Same here," sighed Guard Two, shoulders slumped.
Alex's pulse quickened. I have to get inside. If they raise trouble, I'll have no choice but to fight.
He stepped out, clearing his throat softly. "Good evening."
Guard One's eyes snapped to him. "Your document—adventurer's card if you're a warrior, or a bronze coin if you're a traveler."
Alex swallowed, steadying his voice. "I have a house inside the Imperial Real. I only left briefly… for work."
The guard furrowed his brow, lips tightening. "Rules say every person pays one bronze coin, no exceptions."
Alex's stomach dropped. "I… I don't have any money."
"Rules are rules."
The cold edge of inevitability bit at Alex's resolve.
No way around this. His hand closed around the hilt of his sword, drawing it with a low hiss. Pointed steel caught the torchlight as he advanced.
The first guard raised his shield just in time, deflecting the blow. The second guard lunged, but Alex sidestepped, retreating instinctively.
Damn this anti-magic seal, Alex cursed inwardly. His limbs felt heavy, sluggish—but worse was the ache inside, lingering from hellish days past. These guards were mere shadows compared to that pain.
Locking eyes with his foes, Alex gritted his teeth, grounding himself. Right hand firm on the sword's crossguard, he pointed the blade at the earth beneath him—a calm before the storm.
The two guards split, flanking left and right, faces set in grim determination. They charged simultaneously.
Alex closed his eyes, breath deep and steady, waiting till the last heartbeat. Then he leapt backward, dodging blades that grazed past. With a swift pivot, he rushed the guard on his left, dodging a sweeping strike before driving his sword straight into a gap beneath the armor, chest to heart.
The second guard's blade swung out in fury, but Alex slipped past the edge as if the sword sliced only air. Finding an opening, he caught the tip of the opponent's sword with a quick deflection, and before the man could recover, Alex's fist drove into his gut. Drawing his blade again, Alex plunged it mercilessly into the guard's chest.
I have to vanish before the king doubles the Imperial Real's patrols, thought Alex as he vaulted onto the nearby roofs, limbs fueled by desperation. House to house—it's the only way to vanish into the night.
From high above the streets, he kept moving.
Why didn't I gain any special abilities from the guards? he mused. Did they have none? No matter…
Back in the quiet stillness of Clif the Mage's house, Alex retreated to his old room. Moonlight spilled softly through the window as he rifled through drawers and cupboards, his fingers closing around a small sack.
Found it. Eight gleaming gold coins nestled within, treasures left behind by Clif's passing. This should keep me afloat… for a while.
He moved on to Clif's own chamber, searching for the black outfit the old mage had used to wear.
"Where are you?" he muttered, peering beneath the bed. To his surprise, his hands brushed against a small wooden trapdoor hidden beneath the frame. Lifting the panel, he uncovered a narrow staircase spiraling down.
Descending cautiously, Alex found himself in a secret library—walls lined with tomes, a sturdy table, and a chair. Clothes hung from hooks along one wall.
So many books… but I don't have time to read now.
He sifted through the clothes, but none fit his smaller frame. "No choice… I'll buy something new once I find the nearest town."
The Whispering Woods stretched on as he pressed farther west, leaping gracefully from branch to branch.
Too risky to go ground-level now. Monsters could find me, or worse… soldiers.
His eyes caught a vast expanse of the forest devastated—trees felled, earth torn.
"This place…" Alex whispered bitterly. "It reminds me of where old Clif left his legacy, far east."
Coming at last to the woods' edge, relief mixed with tension. Now to find shelter and a map. His clothes clung damp and stained.
Pinetop—a frontier town nestled between jagged hills and wild woods—held more life than Alex had expected.
For a border settlement, it's bigger than I thought… I need rest, and maybe some answers.
Spotting a passerby, Alex hailed him. "Excuse me, where's the nearest inn?"
The man eyed Alex up and down, curiosity flickering. "Keep straight for about 250 meters—Pinetop Guildhall stands there. Another 250 meters beyond, you'll find The Wayfarer's Rest. The adventurer's guild has its own inn, but you don't look the type to join yet."
Alex nodded, gratitude quick in his voice. "Thank you."
Quickening his pace, Alex headed to the guildhall, hope stirring.
Inside the taproom-like building, adventurers laughed quietly over mugs of ale. Behind the counter stood a tall man, dark-blue hair falling into a single eye beneath a black eyepatch.
"Hello, young man. What brings you here?" the man asked.
"How do I get a guild cloak?" Alex asked, fingers itching for that symbol of belonging.
The eyepatched man shook his head. "They're free—if you're an adventurer registered here."
Alex shifted, undeterred. "Could I at least get a map? Mine's been lost."
"Of course." A crisp parchment was pressed into Alex's hands.
"Thank you."
Stepping back into the streets, Alex pulled the map from his satchel. Walking is wearing me down—I'll need a horse soon.
The Wayfarer's Rest bustled with quiet life. A young woman with fiery red hair swept the tables near the hearth flame, her cotton dress simple and worn.
"Do you have a room?" Alex asked.
She smiled gently. "One silver coin per night, or two with all your meals—breakfast, lunch, and dinner."
"I'll take the room with meals."
"How long will you stay?"
"Only until tomorrow afternoon." Alex placed a worn gold coin on the counter. "I don't have smaller change."
"No worries." She gestured to a colleague for assistance. "You can pick it up tomorrow."
"Thank you."
Key in hand, Alex climbed the creaking stairs to his room. The bed was modest, the window framing the busy street below.
Settling onto the bed, he unrolled the map, tracing the borders with tired fingertips.
Four great nations... Frostmantle Confederacy to the north, Sunstone Steppes south, the Imperial Real east where I was, and to the west, the Theocracy of Lumen.
His gaze lingered on the myriad villages dotting each kingdom's borders, the Theocracy's satellites numerous and sprawling.
Strongest kingdom, maybe. A knot tightened in his stomach.
Lying back, hands folded beneath his head, Alex stared at the ceiling.
Tomorrow, my journey truly begins. I won't stop until that damned king falls.
A yawn escaped him, heavy and slow.
Sleep claimed him swiftly, carrying him into dreams where the path ahead stretched long and fierce.