Land of Mirriam

Chapter 3 :: The Traveller



Simon enjoyed the wind, rowing under the warm sun, a smile playing on his lips as he caught the scent of the salty sea. Despite its serene appearance, the area he traversed, known as 'Alimpuyo-an' to local fishermen, was notoriously treacherous. While larger ships often passed through without incident, smaller vessels like his were vulnerable to sudden whirlpools that appeared out of nowhere.

Having crossed this perilous stretch with the Old Man before, Simon was somewhat familiar with its dangers.

The Old Man, with his keen understanding of the sea, had taught Simon how to navigate these waters. Instead of scanning the surface for whirlpools, they relied on sensing the wind's subtle cues. The journey typically took between 12 to 16 hours, depending on the whims of the swirling currents.

<--->

There was a cove along the southern beach of the eastern continent. Using a small oar, Simon guided the boat onto the sandy shore of the cove. It was a spot where he and the old man had once stayed for a while, leaving behind a few crates that still served as makeshift tables.

He wore a leather backpack, heavy with all his necessities inside. His jacket, fashioned from green leather, showed signs of amateur stitching, yet it served its purpose well, shielding him from water, cold, heat, and exposure. His clothes were cotton, and his boots, though unevenly made, were durable, crafted from monster scales. Patches of the same scale adorned the elbows of his jacket.

Next to Simon's destination was a small fishing village to the west of the cove. He followed a familiar path, worn rugged by many footsteps. The journey to the village took about four hours, but Simon didn't mind the trek. Upon arrival, some of the villagers recognized him, and he exchanged greetings as he bartered some salt for a few dried fish. Throughout the interactions, he kept his eyes closed, lost in thought.

Opting to stay in the north outskirts of the village, where merchants and carts gathered, Simon settled in for the night. Feeling hunger gnawing at him, he began to cook the dried fish over a small campfire.

The savory aroma soon attracted the attention of passersby, drawn by the allure of this delicacy. As merchants flocked to his fire, they expressed interest in trading for a taste of the fish.

Simon recognized the villagers' attempt to be frugal, so he decided to request something he urgently needed at the moment.

Fortunately, luck was on his side when he spotted a cart destined for the main roads the next day.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Simon hitched a ride on the cart. The driver, content with the dried fish Simon had offered him as a meal the night before, welcomed him aboard. It was a fair trade, considering the value of dried fish. Although Simon had to perch atop a pile of seaweed during the journey, he didn't mind the discomfort.

However, after less than half a day, he found himself disembarking to continue the journey on foot. The cart was bound for Elford territory, while Simon's destination lay further to the east. Walking the rest of the way, he arrived at Creek Village by midday.

<--->

Creek Village.

As far as the boy remembered there were new buildings and storage house’s and it seemed that the village had expanded. It’s a village that made its living ferrying travelers and shipments on the Black River. He was a bit familiar with the village but he doubted that the villagers still knew of him.

The village upstream is called East Mouth Village; the road there connects to Simon’s destination and was the easiest and fastest way.

This was his first choice for going further, the same way he and the old man went, or simply walking into the black forest.

He also had the idea to use the small boat to ride all the way to the south side of the eastern continent, but that was probably the worst idea he ever thought of; the current would break the small boat in half.

He went straight to the small dock and asked for the fare, even though he didn’t have any money on him right now.

“Two slivers, kill a thief or four goblins, how old are you, kid?” the sailor asked scanning him from head to toe.

He was trying his luck on the ragged plank in the port of the Creek Village.

“Just... 14,” Simon answered truthfully. He had an idea of how to earn some money, he could go the adventurer route.

“You are too young... and clearly can’t see. Go back where you came from,” another sailor, busy with his routine, said.

Of course, the old man would be the one who usually took cared of the guild matters, now that he had remembered it, he didn’t have any problems with money. “How about trading salts?” Simon persisted.

“Hmm... pink salt... hey guys!” The sailor's call attracted people around them. Pink salt had a unique flavor, and Simon was carrying around five kilos of it. Connoisseurs and famous chefs liked it.

“Three silvers,” a merchant who was attracted by the call offered. “Three silvers for three cups.” The merchant finished his sentence.

“Seven silver for all of that,” a sailor countered. It seemed they were haggling over the price of the salt.

“Are we sure it's really pink salt?” another sailor questioned.

Simon could tell they were trying to reduce the price of his salt, although he had no idea of its value. He started packing up the salt.

“Hey! Where do you think you're going, boy?” the sailor said this with authority, making it sound deeper to intimidate the boy.

Of course, it didn’t affect Simon, he rather finish this early, and he immediately drew his sword. Though his eyes were closed, he exuded a bloodlust beyond his age. “I’m not going to say it again... I’m gone,” Simon threatened.

The crowd was instantly dissolved, and the bloodlust directed at the sailor who tried to stop him made the Sailor shake in his boots, the boy was satisfied and sheathed his sword, and he began walking away.

<--->

He walked away out of the town. Out of its wooden gate, his eyes gazed into the path but he opted to go off-road and changed his heading into the green forest.

His mind lingered, the feeling of familiarity and nostalgia overwhelmed his mind as he began to make plans.

It would take one to two days to go up north, spanning the length of the Black River that was on the east side. The one where he should have crossed if he had the money. Had some good memories there it's sad that he didn’t have the chance to cross there again by the ship.

At the end of it was the Dark Forest, going around would be a journey of about a week. He had to start walking now, before attracting more attention.

The long trek would be dangerous, but encounters with thieves, monsters, and harsh conditions were the norm during his travels with the old man, it was a part of their everyday life. He just had to follow the bank on the east, and he would arrive in the black forest.

“We've traveled there before,” Simon thought, as he made his plans.

<--->

It was another long walk. Following the old man’s instructions, Simon avoided the main roads, opting instead to trek off the beaten path with a clear direction in mind, keeping the river on his right side. The dark forest loomed in the distance, its tall trees distinguishable from afar.

As he ventured closer, cluttering sounds and voices reached his ears. Mostly men, he hastened his pace, seeking higher ground or perhaps a tree for cover.

Surveying the area from a vantage point, Simon spotted the source of the noise. “Thieves?” It always stirred a thrill to encounter them: ragged clothes, an array of weapons... 'The Hood and the Mood.' It was easy to discern their intentions. The main road lay a few meters from their direction.

There were about 40 thieves in total. Simon hadn’t fought in a long time, hoping instead for monsters or beasts that could be hunted for food. But given this opportunity, he wanted to test his strength.

‘Thieves are there so you can try killing humans,’ the old man's words echoed in his mind. As long as the thieves behaved, Simon would spare them. Still, he hoped they were the worst kind; he despised thieves.

<--->

The leader of the thieves smiled; the information they received was good, and even the boss gave him the go signal. His greed and ambitions propelled him, this was a chance that he would never let go.

Though it sounded a bit shady. The only intel was: ‘A traveling caravan is carrying some important artifacts,’ and it came from a dark-hooded man. It didn’t have to be that true, their job was to ambush merchants and travelers and steal their valuables.

He heard cluttering sounds, the bushes and twigs created noises to warn them someone was approaching. It was a familiar face, it was one of them.

“There are three carriages… but there is a noble in front, bearing the crest of the Elford,” the scout returned with new information. They were already in position. The intel was somewhat both bad and good news. First of all, the Elfords were well known in the eastern continent. The good news was that the information was legit…

If they attacked, some of them would certainly perish, but if he played his cards right, he could get away with it.

“We better not mess with them,” one of the thieves commented. The Elfords: world-renowned nobles, could represent the entirety of the eastern frontier. They were the ones who maintained and managed the whole eastern continent. They were not to be trifled with.

Doubts began to circle around “Trust me, guys… you don’t have to fight them. Just buy time and try to run away if your life is in danger… we strike at night…” the leader confidently smiled.

Still, the group was silent. The leader was a known deviant; the reason he became a leader was that he used some shady, backstabbing strategies to climb his way up…

“Hey!! Who are you!!?? Aargh!!!” There was a scream from the far end of the group of thieves. The leader of the thieves was at a high vantage point, so he immediately saw the direction of the scream.

The thieves at the back started fleeing. It was a single kid, using punches and throws to incapacitate the thieves who were still conscious. “What the hell??!!!” the leader screamed in surprise.

He always made sure to take the higher ground to oversee the group he was leading. He immediately spotted the commotion and pointed it out, as far as he could see it was just a boy.

“That’s just a boy!!! KILL HIM!!!” the leader screamed.

<--->

The caravan wheels made cluttering sounds, and although they were traveling on paved roads the suspension system was not enough to cancel the shaking carriages. They are heading south back to their origin.

A princess was in one of the carriages, she had blonde hair with a color of golden yellow, and she was driveling as she was sleeping. Her tiredness canceled the noises and the shaking and kept her asleep.

“My lady… there is a commotion nearby…” The princess, who was on escort duty, was still sleeping. Her attendant woke her up by opening the window; the attendant was riding her horse near the carriage.

“What was that? Huh?” a very slobbery face, well, it was her true face; only her family and her attendants knew of this.

“A commotion is happening; the birds are flying away from the south,” her attendant reported again, her voice was clear and crisp, the sign of insurance and confidence.

Their mission was to deliver a certain artifact that was from the newly found dungeon near the dark forest up north. “I see…” She then took a map from the top of the carriage shelf. She traced the road going south; there was a sharp curve since they would have to ride around the mountains as per the main road.

“Thanks, what do you think is the distance?” she asked for more info.

“There is still no sound, and the birds didn’t spread that much… maybe around the curve since it is close to the Creek Forest east… more or less,” the attendant answered. She was probably the most experienced among the attendants that she currently had, and her input was really well received.

“We will arrive there at nighttime. Don’t change the speed; it must be thieves… Alert the caravan. Wake me up when the sun is almost down… (Yawn) I’m still tired… let me rest… thanks for the report.” The princess then instantly fell back, clearly exhausted. She probably had only three hours of sleep.

The attendant nodded and smiled, she got the order, and she then respectfully bowed while closing the window of the carriage. By no means was the princess lazy; the family she belonged to actually had a special magic trait that ran in their blood. The artifact they were transporting was a broken piece of a dungeon core.

The Elford had the magic technology to bring these pieces of dungeon cores to use as vessels of magic, much like batteries, and the eastern frontier flourished because of this.

That magic of dungeon core harvesting would take a toll on the body. Though the princess was 18 years old, she had already been tasked multiple times. This was her fourth one.

The attendant began spreading the princess’s command.


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