The Glitched One

The carriage drew closer to the bridge, the horses now trotting with more speed and energy, relieved of the weight from the corpses we’d left behind. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm orange glow across the landscape. I could feel the stares of the nearby farmers as we passed. They glanced at me curiously, their eyes lingering on my muddied clothes and the mess of dried mud that streaked across my face. My hair, still damp from earlier, clung in clumps.

I lowered my gaze, trying to smooth my hair into some kind of order with my fingers. It was a lost cause—my appearance screamed "out of place." More than anything, I just wanted a long bath to wash away the grime and my growing unease.

"Where would I find a world map?" I asked, hoping to gather some sense of direction.

"Every tavern has one. Why do you ask?" Mortan's eyes were still on the road, his voice casual.

"Just… wanting to get one," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant, though my mind was racing with thoughts of how to find a way back home—or anywhere that made sense.

"You don’t have a place to stay, right?" Mortan continued, his tone shifting slightly. "You’re going to need a job. Maybe try the Guild?"

"The Guild?" I repeated, the word unfamiliar.

"Yeah. It’s where people pick up quests, make a living," he explained.

As we rode on, we left the last farm behind and continued along the road. To our right was a small stable, and to the left, a few guards stood at ease, chatting with each other. Their leather armour looked basic, protecting only the essentials, allowing them to move freely and efficiently. They seemed more relaxed than I expected, their swords sheathed, but they still kept a vigilant eye on the surroundings.

Mortan brought the carriage to a stop in front of the massive double doors of the city gates. Two guards stepped forward, their eyes sweeping over us, assessing in a way that made my skin prickle.

"Hey, Mortan. What’s inside the sack, ingots?" one of them asked with a familiar tone.

"Yep," Mortan said, nodding casually.

The guard took a quick peek inside the sack, satisfied with what he saw, and then gave the nearest horse a friendly pat. He turned his attention to me, his gaze lingering as if trying to figure out why I looked so out of place and dishevelled.

"Who’s this?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"I found him near a village that was attacked by goblins," Mortan replied. "He’s the sole survivor of that place."

"Goblins?" The guard's face softened slightly. "Damn. Sorry for your loss, kid."

"T-thanks," I mumbled, unsure of how to react.

"All clear," the guard announced, signalling to the other. Together, they heaved the gates open, revealing the city beyond. "Welcome to Kinowa."

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NOTIFICATION

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* Location Discovered: Kinowa

* Map Updated!

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+ XP Gained: 10

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| Current XP: 30 / 100

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| Progress: █████░░░░░░░░

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As the gates swung wide, I got my first glimpse of Kinowa, and the sight was breathtaking. The city spread out before me like a vision from another era. Cobblestone streets wove their way through clusters of quaint, two-story houses with thatched roofs and wooden shutters. Smoke rose from chimneys, mixing with the fading sunlight to cast a soft haze over the town. Market stalls lined the streets, vendors already setting up for the evening rush, their goods spilling out in a riot of colors—fresh produce, shining metal trinkets, and fabrics in every shade imaginable.

At the heart of the city stood a grand tavern, its dark timber and stone structure bustling with life. Warm light spilled from its windows, and a wooden sign with a foaming mug swayed gently above the entrance. Flags bearing the city's emblem fluttered from the upper floor, adding colour to the scene.

In the distance, a bit to the right, I could see a blacksmith hammering away at a forge, sparks flying with each strike, and nearby, a group of children darted through the narrow alleyways, their laughter echoing in the air. To my left, just a few metres past the city gates, was a building with two guards flanking the front entrance of it. The sign that was swaying in the air had a sword icon, and under that it read, ‘Guardhouse.’

"Wow," I muttered under my breath, the words slipping out before I could catch them.

"Yeah, wow indeed," Mortan said with a chuckle. "I’ll drop you off at the Guild. Then—you’re on your own, kid. No heartbreaks because I can’t take you to my home."

"Of course," I replied, nodding slowly. "You’ve done enough for me. I can… manage."

The road split in three directions. To the left, a zigzagged path climbed a gentle slope. Straight ahead lay a massive tavern, seemingly the busiest part of the city, teeming with life and noise. To the right, a narrow lane stretched on, too tight even for a cart, ending with a statue of a kneeling woman, her eyes obscured by a snake. She held a vase, and water flowed from it into the fountain at her feet.

Noticing my gaze lingering on the statue, Mortan pointed toward it. "Goddess of Death. Rowe," he said, his voice carrying a hint of reverence. "That’s the graveyard site.”

“Goddess of Death,” I repeated thoughtfully. “Hmm.”

“We’re getting close,” he continued, slowing the cart. “I’ll drop you off here.”

“Okay,” I agreed, glancing at the surroundings.

The cart halted in front of a blacksmith’s workshop. A young man, probably around my age, was hard at work, his brow glistening with sweat from the heat of the forge. His build was solid, with broad shoulders and the kind of muscular arms that spoke of years of swinging a hammer. His hair, a wild mess of dark curls, framed a face that was both rugged and kind. His eyes, sharp yet warm, flicked up as he noticed us arriving. A small smile crept across his lips, and he gave Mortan a respectful nod before turning his attention to me with a curious tilt of his head.

“Hey, son,” Mortan called out, hopping off the cart with a grunt. “How was the day?”

“You were late,” the young man replied, a crease of concern forming on his brow. “I was worried about you. What happened?”

Mortan’s face darkened slightly as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “The villa where I bought the equipment was attacked. Goblins. Had to haul the bodies to the graveyard—couldn’t just leave ‘em there. The gods would’ve judged me.”

The young man shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Yeah, but risking your life like that... it’s not worth it, Father.” He paused, then glanced my way. “Who’s this?”

“The village I was buying the equipment from?,” Mortan said, gesturing to me. “Goblins attacked. He’s the sole survivor.”

I jumped down from the cart, landing lightly. “Hello,” I said with a small nod. “I’m Axel.”

“Aiden,” he responded, his expression softening. “Nice to meet you. And... I’m sorry about your folks.”

“Oh, I was living there alone,” I said with a dull voice. “My parents passed a long time ago.”

“Ah... gotcha.”

Mortan pointed toward a worn staircase across the street. “You see the stairs? Go up and turn right. Walk a bit, and you’ll find the Guild building.”

I followed his gesture and saw the weathered stairs sandwiched between two houses, each with a small backyard. Turning back to Mortan, I nodded in gratitude. Without his help, I'd still be lost in that forest, unsure of what to do next.

“Thank you,” I said, sincerity clear in my voice. “For everything.”

“No problem, kid. Take care of yourself.”

“Hmm.”

“Oh, and,” he added, as if suddenly remembering, “head over to The Diamond Eyes. Tell ’em I said hi. You can get cleaned up there.”

“Thanks, I’ll do that.”

I turned and began climbing the stairs, feeling the weight of the city’s eyes on me. My clothes were a mess, caked in mud and grime, and I could sense people whispering behind my back as I passed.

At the top, I turned right as Mortan had instructed. The streets here were wider, enough for two carriages to pass comfortably with plenty of room for pedestrians. The houses looked sturdier, with large backyards that suggested a more affluent area. In the distance, I spotted the Guild building. It was a large, imposing structure with a weathered wooden sign that creaked slightly in the breeze. The emblem on the sign depicted a shield and sword crossed, symbolising unity and strength.

“That’s gotta be it,” I muttered to myself, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension.

But first, I needed to clean up. The Diamond Eyes was just next to the Guild building, its windows revealing patrons inside, enjoying drinks and hearty meals. The sign above was simple yet inviting, marking it clearly as a tavern with a simple beer icon.

“Wouldn’t hurt to try my luck,” I said under my breath, pushing open the door.

Inside, the tavern was warm and lively, with the scent of roasted meat and freshly baked bread filling the air. Wooden beams stretched across the ceiling, draped with old banners and lanterns casting a soft glow. The tables were packed with travellers and locals alike, their laughter and chatter mixing with the clinking of mugs. In the corner, a bard strummed a lute, his fingers gliding over the strings as he played a soft, melancholic tune.

I approached the counter, a little hesitant, and nodded politely to the woman behind it. She had a stern face but kind eyes, and she crossed her arms as she looked me over.

“What happened to you?” she asked, one eyebrow arching. “You’re muddying up my floors.”

“Yeah, sorry,” I said, scratching the back of my neck awkwardly. “Mortan said I could get cleaned up here... I, uh, don’t have any gold, though.”

She eyed me for a moment, her expression unreadable. “Mortan, huh? How’s he doing? I heard he was late today.”

“Yeah, he ran into trouble,” I explained. “The village he was getting equipment from got attacked by goblins.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and she let out a low whistle. “Goblins, that close? That’s... troubling.”

“Yeah,” I said with a nod. “It’s pretty bad.”

“What’s your name, kid?” she asked, leaning on the counter.

“Axel, ma’am,” I replied.

“Phobe,” she said. “Alright, Axel, go down that corridor and take the second door on the left. There’s a bath in there. Get yourself cleaned up.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” I said, relief washing over me.

As I made my way down the narrow corridor, the noise from the main room faded, replaced by the quieter hum of my own thoughts. I reached the second door, pushed it open, and stepped inside. The room was small but cozy, with a large wooden tub in the centre. Steam rose from the hot water, and a stack of clean towels sat neatly on a chair nearby.

I stripped off my mud-caked clothes, tossing them to the side, and lowered myself into the tub. The hot water stung at first, then gradually eased the tension in my muscles. I let out a long breath, leaning back, closing my eyes. The grime and dirt of the past few hours seemed to melt away into the water, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt almost... human again.

"This is good,” I said, leaning my head back against the tub. “Finally… something positive for once.”