Ryn of Avonside

My feet were more than weary after the second day of trudging along that road. I saw a castle in the distance at one point, strange design, but also familiar. The castles of Earth’s history were smaller, less grand in scope than this one. The people of this land had probably been stuck in the medieval era for much longer than we had back on Earth, which I guess when combined with magic led to much larger, more impressive castles and stuff?

I hadn’t been used to walking distances like this before I got my new body, let alone this newly made one. It was a little strange that I had any sort of endurance at all, though, without any long distance training. I should have been dying after the first hour. Maybe mage bodies had a bit more endurance on that front than normal baseline human ones? I should ask the manufacturer.

As for the progress I’d made, the landscape was ever so slightly moving uphill, and I was beginning to see that we were in a sort of large basin. A great many small rivers and streams were feeding into one huge one that I could see in the distance even several kilometers away. Off to my left and right in the far, hazy distance were a pair of low mountain ranges, more like large hills than true towering pillars of rock and earth.

The rattle and clatter of a large horse drawn cart drew my attention, and I turned to watch it coming up behind me on the road. Moving to the side to let it pass, I peered curiously over at it. This wasn’t the first one to go past me, not by a long shot, but I was still interested in seeing any group of fellow travellers up close. It was a four wheeled wagon with a cover over the top and a complete lack of suspension that made the whole thing bounce around like it was some sort of theme park ride.

My eyes met those of a man at the front holding the reins. He was young, perhaps three or so years older than me, and from what I could tell, sort of handsome in that way that earnest and slightly ignorant guys were. He had a short mess of brown hair, pale skin and big dark brown eyes.

“Where are you headed, miss?” he asked, his wide eyes trying and failing to stay off my body.

I winced and looked away, motioning vaguely forward, not trusting myself to speak.

“Well, would you like to ride with us? We’re going as far as Anverkeit for now, then following the river up into Aberg to Luglastain,” he explained, his expression hopeful in that way that even I could recognise.

He wanted the company of a girl, to flirt with, make advances on, the usual thing. However, and this was so awfully stereotypical of me… he did have a ride. Damn, that was tempting.

“If it sways you one way or another, the kid’s harmless. He can barely string the words together to stammer out a flirtatious greeting to a woman anyway, I watched him try his luck with the barmaid at the last inn. I was embarrassed by proxy,” an older voice called from behind, and I turned to see a tall, athletic woman in her forties or fifties hanging out of the back of the covered wagon.

“Valda!” the guy whined, his face heating with the embarrassment that the woman, Valda had mentioned.

“Alright,” I said, just loud enough for them to hear. I hadn’t spoken in days, but my voice was clear and harmonious. Damn, I forgot that my voice was a match for my looks.

“O-oh! Uh, just… wait, should I stop and… oh, I think—” the guy stammered out, before Valda cut in over the top of him. “Here, girl. I’ll pull you up as we go past.”

I nodded, slowing my pace and raising my arm to meet the warrior woman’s strong, muscled one. I felt myself lifted off the ground, and I swung my feet up to push off the slow turning wheel and give us both some extra help. Then I was up in the back of the cart with Valda, nodding my thanks to her.

“Thank you,” I said, again in that low tone. I was honestly feeling a little shy, between the grizzled and intimidating older woman with the big ass sword on her back, to the younger guy who was very obviously interested in hitting on me.

“Not a problem,” Valda replied, giving me a casual appraisal.

I did the same, noting the rough combination of leather and plate armour she was wearing— form fitting and well worn. The huge claymore she had on her back was intimidating to say the least— held in one of those special holster things for swords like that, too long to be drawn from a traditional sheath. Her hair was almost entirely gray now, only a smattering of pitch-black remaining to show its original colour. My gaze traced further down over the few scars dotting what skin I could see. It was nothing overly intense— no giant scar across her eye or anything like that.

“You look awfully soft to be wandering the roads of Anverleik, even in trader’s season when the roads are relatively well patrolled,” she stated, clearly coming to the conclusion that I was one dark night away from being attacked and murdered by bandits.

“I am, but not everyone gets the choice,” I replied, then glanced around for somewhere to sit and rest my legs. The bumping of the cart was already threatening to rattle my scarf free from its moorings.

“Aye, that is all too true,” Valda replied, her eyes narrowing slightly in an expression that was either suspicion or respect. I couldn’t tell which.

Gesturing at the various crates and sacks that were stacked in the back of the cart, I asked, “Can I sit down somewhere?”

“Yes, sit on one of the sacks of grain— helps cushion the ride,” the older woman nodded.

“Thanks,” I said again and eased down onto one with a weary sigh.

Taking a chance, I pulled my hood down and then unwrapped my scarf, enjoying the way the cool air tickled across my skin. Damn, it had been getting stifling under all of that cloth. The days were cool still, but also humid from what I was beginning to think were frequent rains. It was all just that little bit too hot to be wrapping your face up like that.

As I was enjoying the cool breeze, I was startled when the cart gave an abrupt jump, followed by the sound of wheels grinding against dirt.

“Cad! Look where you’re driving this bloody thing, would you?” Valda growled, and I turned to see the guy dragging his eyes off my face to watch the road again like a scolded puppy.

Oh dear. I glanced an apology to Valda, who was giving me a look that said she was trying to judge me all over again— figure out my story.

“Those are nice clothes you’ve got. Well made, and those boots could buy me food for a month— rubber soles like them are rare,” she said after a moment, her eyes critical as she gave me a second once over, before they landed on my face. “But that face of yours, girl. That’s something else. What in the name of the gods are you doing on your own? Do you have a death wish? Or worse?”

“I had it covered for a reason,” I sighed, my tone starting out defensive, but I was too weary to put much effort into it. “Like I said though, I don’t have a choice.”

“Why is that?” she asked curiously, and I could see Cad’s ears practically swivelling to listen in as well.

Giving a shrug, my fingers found my family ring, absently twisting and pulling at it. “Reasons.”

I still felt very guarded, cautious of the world around me and more than a little scared by it. I had no idea if I could really trust these people, I had no idea what the custom was surrounding offering transport to strangers. Was it common or was I going to be murdered in my sleep tonight? It was far better to keep information about myself under wraps.

“Where are you from?” Cad blurted from up front, trying and failing to stare at me and the road at the same time. “Your accent is so different! I’ve never heard anything like it!”

“This isn’t my first language,” I shrugged, deciding that letting on that I was a foreigner wouldn’t be so bad. They could already tell from my accent anyway.

“What’s your native tongue?” Valda asked, her eyes keen as she regarded me. Damn, why was she so interested in who I was? “I’ve been all over, fought in a lot of places,” Valda continued, and I realised with a jolt that maybe she was just genuinely curious in that grizzled vet sort of way. The way where they were always suspicious of anything new and strange, always on the lookout for potential threats.

“You wouldn’t know it. I’m from outer space after all, a whole different world!” I said in English, then smiled slightly at the comfort I got simply from speaking it. I missed home, I missed my friends.

“Alright,” she laughed, nodding amused acquiescence. “Point taken, you’re from a damn long way away.”

“Why, because you know all the languages around here?” I asked, back in the Anve language, which was what they spoke in this region. “That’s pretty impressive.”

“I can speak some, recognise others,” she shrugged like it was no big deal.

“She used to be a famous mercenary!” Cad exclaimed, his eyes meeting my curious ones with excitement. “I heard she was at the Battle of Atros, when the Abers sent the Ghraigs back up onto their steppes where they belong!”

“Easy there Cad,” the veteran sighed, looking like she suddenly felt the weight of all of her years of fighting resting on her shoulders. “I was fighting for King Andras, not the Abers themselves. Those Abers are nasty business, no matter how vital they are to keeping the Ghraig Empire out of the Anverlands.”

“Yeah, but Andras and the other Tlaxans were on the Aber’s side right?” he asked, suddenly looking unsure of himself.

“They were, in the same way that the Bithells and the Bethells are on the same side when there’s wolves sighted in the forest back at the village,” she explained patiently.

I raised an eyebrow for an explanation on that one, because it sounded interesting.

“Two families back in our home village,” Valda smiled knowingly. “Come from the same stock back in the day, but somewhere along the line a letter was changed and they’ve been bickering about it ever since.”

“I know the type of feud you’re talking about,” I grinned, thinking back to the homeowner’s association back where I had grown up. They had been embroiled in the most ridiculous petty power struggle I’d ever seen, much to the amusement of everyone not involved, including my conflict averse ass. It had been the reason that the HOA had never actually functioned when I lived there. Good times.

“Indeed,” Valda nodded, and we shared the look of two people who didn’t understand the type of person who’d raise a fuss over something like that.

I decided I liked Valda, and Cad was okay too, even if he was obviously developing an infatuation as we continued on down the road. At some point, night began to fall, and they pulled the cart up to the side of the road and lit a fire, where we all continued to talk and even shared some of our food between us.

I discovered that Cad and Valda weren’t actually related, only from the same village. When he'd gotten it into his head that he wanted to be a trader, though, Valda had offered to come with him and keep him alive. Probably for his family’s sake as much as his sake. I was smiling as I wrapped myself up in my blanket on the ground. It was nice to talk to people again.