Reincarnation in Another World, and I Seek to Build My Own Kingdom

[ir3dx]

As soon as the castle walls appeared on the screen, Rigar pulled his chair closer to the desk and placed his fingers on the keyboard. His soldiers were waiting in front of the eastern gate, which he had failed to breach in his previous two attempts.

"I'm not attacking the gate again."

He moved his character to the hill opposite the wall, then opened the command menu. He left a small number of soldiers in front of the gate and hid the rest in the passage alongside the hills. When his men began to retreat, the defenders came out to pursue them. He kept his finger on the key until the last enemy knight had passed the bend.

"Now."

His men charged from both sides. He closed the command menu and rushed his character down the hill into the battlefield. The clash of swords rang through his headphones, and the screen filled with dust. He dodged a strike from the enemy commander, moved around him, then pressed the button twice in succession.

The commander fell. The word "Victory" appeared above the walls, and the red banners began disappearing from the map.

"Finally!"

He raised his fist, then leaned back in his chair, laughing. It had taken him two days to conquer that territory, and now it was part of his kingdom. He moved the cursor over the new lands, examining the locations of mines and villages, and began issuing construction orders before the victory music had faded.

He would repair the bridge first. As for the stone tower at the border, he would deal with the monster guarding it himself.

A long growl came from his stomach. The cursor stopped over the tower. He looked at the empty cup beside the screen, then at the clock, and tried to remember the last thing he had eaten.

"All right... The tower will still be there."

He saved his progress and took off his headphones. When he stood up, his legs felt heavy, so he stretched a little before picking up his phone and wallet and leaving.

The restaurant was close enough to reach on foot. He pushed open its glass door, and the smell of grilled meat greeted him. His hunger increased as he walked between the tables. He chose a seat beside the window and picked up the menu from the edge of the table.

The waiter arrived before he could turn the first page.

"What would you like to order?"

"The meat platter with rice, and a bottle of water, please."

"Would you like anything else?"

Rigar lifted his eyes from the picture of the dish.

"If the portion is like the picture, that'll be enough."

The waiter smiled as he took the menu.

"You won't leave hungry."

Rigar waited, turning his phone over in his hands. He opened a saved image of the game's map and zoomed in on the tower. He had lost to its guardian once before: a massive stone creature that struck the ground with both hands, leaving its back exposed for a few moments after each blow.

The food arrived, and he immediately put his phone aside. The first bite was hotter than he expected. He swallowed it with difficulty, drank some water, then resumed eating more slowly. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he found himself gathering the last grains of rice from his plate.

He paid the bill, thanked the waiter, and went out into the street.

As he walked, he rearranged the battle in his mind: he would move away when the monster raised its arms, wait for them to strike the ground, then rush behind it. Perhaps he needed a faster weapon, or perhaps he needed to stop attacking whenever a small opportunity presented itself.

He took a deep breath, then slowed his steps. There was a strange smell. He inhaled again. The smell of wet soil, green leaves, and damp wood. He glanced at the decorative flowerbeds in front of the shops, then at the dry road beneath his feet. It hadn't rained, and he hadn't seen anyone watering the plants.

He raised his head and saw the trees.

They were far away, at the end of the street, where the intersection was supposed to be. Tall trunks stood close together, with dark spaces between them and branches swaying above the cars. A car passed through one of the trunks without being obscured by it. Then the trees disappeared for a moment and returned.

Rigar stopped and rubbed his eyes.

"Am I imagining things, or has playing too much made me start seeing a forest?"

He looked at the storefront beside him, then back at the intersection. The scene was still there, faint as an image reflected on glass.

He let out a short breath and shook his head. He would go home and wash his face, and perhaps put off the tower until tomorrow.

He continued along his usual route. He was trying to make out what he was seeing, expecting it to disappear as he approached. The scent of leaves reached his throat, and he felt a chill pass over his arms. He reached into his pocket, thinking of taking out his phone to capture a picture.

And with his next step, his shoe sank into the soil.

He stopped. Beneath his foot was a layer of decomposing leaves. He slowly lifted his shoe, and a strand of mud clung to its edge.

He looked ahead. A tree trunk stood close enough for him to touch its bark. Behind it was another trunk, then tangled rows of trees stretching into the pale light filtering through the branches.

He spun around. The street had disappeared. There were no glass storefronts, no streetlights, and no restaurant he had left a short while ago. The forest stretched behind him as well.

"Where am I?" His voice came out louder than he intended. He waited, as though someone might answer from behind the trees.

"Is what I'm seeing real?"

He took two steps backward, then walked quickly in the direction he had come from. He passed a bush and pushed a branch away from his face. He should have reached the sidewalk by now. He went farther, then began to run.

He found nothing but more trees. He stopped, panting, and looked behind him. He was no longer even sure where he had entered.

He took out his phone. The screen lit up in his hand, but the signal indicator was absent. He tried to make a call and waited several long seconds before a message appeared saying the call could not be completed.

He tried again. The result was the same. He put the phone back in his pocket and wiped his palms on his trousers. His fingers were trembling.

He raised his hand and slapped his cheek. The blow stung, making him gasp and close his eyes for a moment.

"Get a hold of yourself, Rigar." He said it aloud, then swallowed.

"Try to understand what's happening first. Look around... You have to find a way."

He placed his hand on the nearest tree trunk. He felt the roughness and coldness of the bark beneath his palm. He bent slightly, examining the spaces between the trees and searching for footprints or cut branches.

He heard a cracking sound behind the bushes. He immediately raised his head. A brief rustling followed, then another from a different direction. The leaves of a bush to his right moved, and a small green face appeared between them.

Rigar remained still. The creature was much shorter than him, with a hunched back, pointed ears, and a wide mouth from which uneven teeth protruded. A dirty piece of leather hung around its waist, and it held a thick club in its hand.

A second creature emerged from behind a tree. It carried a short knife.

"Goblin...?"

The name almost sounded ridiculous when he said it. He recognized these faces from games, but now their pungent smell reached him, and he heard the knife scraping against the bark as its owner moved alongside a nearby trunk.

Two more appeared. Rigar took a step backward.

The one carrying the club let out a shrill cry and charged toward him. Rigar turned and ran.

He forced his way between the trees, pushing branches aside with his forearms and jumping over roots. He heard their footsteps behind him, light and rapid, interrupted by short sounds he couldn't understand.

He didn't dare look back.

The edge of his shirt caught on a thorn, so he pulled until it tore and continued running. The air began to burn in his chest. He tried to run faster, but the trees forced him to turn again and again, and the sounds were getting closer.

He spotted a gap between two trunks and rushed toward it. His foot caught on a protruding root. He lost his balance and struck the ground with his palms before his knee hit a stone. His arm slid across the dirt, and his mouth filled with the taste of dust.

He tried to stand, but his leg failed him. They had arrived.

The goblins spread out around him, watching as he crawled away. The one holding the club approached and struck the ground near his foot. Rigar flinched and pulled his leg toward his chest.

"Stay away!" The words came out hoarse.

His hand searched the dirt behind him and struck a stone the size of his fist. He grabbed it as the creature raised its club again.

He threw it with all his strength. The stone struck the goblin in the eye. Its head jerked backward, and it dropped the club, howling as it pressed both hands against its face.

Rigar took advantage of the opportunity and staggered to his feet. He heard movement beside him, then felt something tear through his shirt at his back.

The pain came immediately afterward; sharp and spreading, it drove him forward. He fell to his knees and reached behind him. When he brought his hand back, his fingers were covered in blood.

He kept staring at them. A drop slid between his fingers and fell onto the dirt. He felt warmth spreading beneath his shirt, and the pain increased whenever he tried to move his shoulders.

Footsteps approached him. He opened his mouth to take a breath, but his chest tightened. He tried again, but the air came in short, rapid breaths, and it wasn't enough. He bent forward, clutching the front of his shirt, and began gasping.

He couldn't stop.

His heartbeat quickened until he could hear it in his ears. His vision narrowed, and the edges of the trees began to merge. He tried to remember what he should do, how to breathe, how to stand, but one thought kept returning whenever he caught sight of the knife:

He was going to die here. No one would come.

His fingers dug into the dirt, and his entire body shook. Then he felt the heat.

It began deep in his abdomen and spread toward his chest, then surged into his shoulders and arms. His eyes widened. Something was moving inside him, flowing beneath his skin and pressing against his limbs from within.

He lifted his hand from the ground. It was trembling violently.

One of the goblins approached, raising a rusty blade. Behind it, the one injured in the eye was still howling.

The heat intensified until Rigar felt as though his chest would split open.

"Stay away..."

He tried to move backward, but his legs propelled him forward. He suddenly stood and rushed toward the nearest one, screaming. He didn't know what he was doing. He stretched his hands in front of his face as the blade descended, and his body tensed in anticipation of the blow.

Fire exploded.

Flames burst outward from around him in a violent wave, striking the goblins before the blade could reach him. Their bodies were lifted off the ground, and their weapons scattered among the trees. Red light engulfed the trunks, and the roar of the explosion drowned out the screams.

He was thrown backward and landed on his palms. His ears were ringing. He raised his head with difficulty. The nearest creature was engulfed in flames, and another thrashed beside a tree before falling still. Beyond them, the remaining two lay on the ground amid blackened leaves drifting slowly through the air.

Rigar gasped, then coughed. The air carried the smell of burning flesh.

He looked at his hands. They were covered in soot, but the skin was not burned. He moved his fingers, then looked back at the bodies.

"I...?" His voice came out weak, barely audible.

The heat in his body quickly faded, replaced by a heavy cold. He tried to lift himself, but his arms trembled. He felt the ground tilting and something warm sliding from his back toward his waist.

His shoulder struck the dirt. Between the branches, he saw a small patch of sky. He tried to keep his eyes fixed on it, but it began to fade.

Then he lost consciousness.

A short while later, the branches at the edge of the burned clearing moved. A figure wrapped in a dark cloak emerged from between them and stopped near the corpses. The tip of a boot came to rest beside a discarded knife, then stepped past it toward Rigar.

The newcomer knelt beside him and placed two fingers against the side of his neck. After waiting a moment, the figure slipped one arm behind his shoulders and the other beneath his knees, lifting him from the ground.

Rigar's hand hung down, swaying with each step, until they disappeared among the trees.

 

[ir3dx]

Chapter 2: A Strange Place

Reigar opened his eyes a little.

The ground shifted beneath him, drawing closer and falling away with each jolt of his body. He saw grass passing nearby and the hem of a garment swaying in front of his face. Something firm pressed against his stomach. His arms hung limply, barely responding when he tried to move them.

Someone was carrying him.

He tried to lift his head, but a dull ache spread from the back of his neck into his shoulders. A faint sound escaped his throat, swallowed by the footsteps.

"He moved…"

The words reached him distant and muffled. He wanted to ask who was speaking and where they were taking him, but his eyes closed before he could make out the face bending toward him.

He lost consciousness again.

When he woke, his body was still.

He lay staring at the ceiling. Dark wooden beams stretched between lighter planks, and a small bundle of dried herbs hung from one of them.

He blinked slowly.

This was not his bedroom ceiling.

Turning his head to the right, he saw a table with an earthenware pitcher and a cup, and a chair with a folded garment draped over its back. To his left stood a low cabinet against a pale wall. The room was quiet, though mingled voices drifted through an open window.

He pushed the blanket off his chest and sat up. A sudden wave of dizziness forced him to grip the edge of the bed. He waited for it to pass, then felt through his pockets.

His phone.

He quickly pulled it out and pressed the side button. The screen lit up, and he let out a slightly relieved breath, but then his gaze settled on the signal indicator.

No service.

He tried making a call anyway. It failed. He tried again, then stared at the screen for a moment before getting up.

Bracing himself against the wall, he approached the window.

Outside, a narrow street ran between houses with sloping roofs. Wooden beams stood out against their facades, and painted signs hung above some of the doors. A horse-drawn cart passed by. A man carrying a basket stepped aside to let it through, then resumed arguing with a woman at a vegetable stall.

Reigar looked farther down the street, searching for a car, a streetlight, even an electrical wire.

He saw none of them.

The buildings, clothes, and cart resembled pictures of medieval European towns, but the street did not look like a film set. Dirty water trickled beside the paving stones. A barefoot boy ran after the cart, and a woman shook out a cloth from a window across the street.

He gripped the windowsill.

"Where in heaven's name am I?"

The door opened behind him.

He turned quickly, then had to catch himself against the wall as the dizziness returned. A woman entered carrying a small tray and stopped when she saw him standing.

"You're awake, thank God."

She set the tray on the table and approached him.

"Easy. You don't look ready to be on your feet yet."

He looked at her, then at the open door behind her.

"Is this your house?"

"Yes. Sit down first."

She guided him to the edge of the bed and poured him some water. He took the cup in both hands and drank, only realizing how thirsty he was when it was empty.

The woman sat in the chair opposite him.

"What were you doing alone in the forest?"

He lowered the cup from his lips.

Fragments came back to him: the road outside the restaurant, the strange scent, the trees he had mistaken for a mirage. Then the forest, and what had happened there.

"I… I honestly don't know."

She frowned.

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"I was going home. I was walking down the street, and then… I found myself there."

She waited for him to continue. When he did not, she leaned forward slightly.

"Did you lose your way? Was anyone with you?"

"No. I was alone."

He rubbed his face, then looked up at her.

"Who are you? Where am I? I need to get back to my city. Is there a phone I can use? Or somewhere I can—"

"Calm down. One question at a time."

"How am I supposed to calm down when I don't even know where I am?"

His voice came out louder than he intended. He fell silent and looked down at the cup in his hands.

"I'm sorry… I just don't understand what's happening."

The woman remained silent for a moment, then spoke more slowly.

"You're in the city of Amraj, in the Kingdom of Dorth."

He looked up.

"The Kingdom of what?"

"Dorth."

"What country is that in?"

Confusion crossed her face.

"Dorth is the kingdom. We're on the continent of Istoza."

Reigar stared at her.

"Istoza… Dorth… Amraj…"

He repeated the names as though trying to remember where he might have heard them, then shook his head.

"I've never heard of any of those places."

She glanced at his unfamiliar clothes, then back at his face.

"What country are you from?"

He did not answer.

He was thinking about the trees that had appeared in the middle of the road. At first, he had blamed exhaustion. Then he had thought he had lost his way. Now the window overlooked a city whose very existence he could not explain.

A thought crept into his mind, making his fingers tighten around the cup.

Had he been transported to another world?

He almost laughed at the absurdity of it, but no sound came.

"Do you have a map?" he asked abruptly.

"A map?"

"Yes. Please, let me see it."

She studied him for a moment, then stood.

"Wait here."

When she left the room, he opened his phone again. He tried the maps app, but the screen would not show his location. He kept swiping his finger across it and trying again until he heard her footsteps returning.

Without thinking, he slipped the phone into his pocket.

The woman carried an old rolled map. She moved the pitcher aside and spread it across the table, placing the cup on one edge to keep it from curling up.

Reigar approached and bent over it.

The map was drawn in ink, with the names of cities and kingdoms scattered across it. A long mountain range stretched through its center. His eyes followed the coastlines, then moved to the landmass opposite.

Nothing looked familiar.

No Arabian Peninsula. No Red Sea. None of the continents he knew.

The woman pointed to a small spot.

"This is Amraj. And the forest where we found you is here, to the west."

He silently followed her finger.

"Is this a map of the whole world?"

"The known lands, at least. It isn't recent, but it serves its purpose."

He scanned its edges again, searching for anything that might give him a reason to object. Perhaps the map was made up. Perhaps this was some strange trick, and an explanation would eventually leave him feeling foolish.

But who would build an entire city for a trick? And how had he gotten here?

He stepped away from the table and sat on the bed.

"I really am in another world…"

"What did you say?"

He looked up at her, then shook his head.

"Nothing."

He was not ready to explain an idea he could barely believe himself.

The woman slowly rolled up the map.

"We haven't introduced ourselves. My name is Aris."

He looked at her as though he had only just remembered she was there.

"Reigar. My name is Reigar."

"Well, Reigar, where are you from? Perhaps we can find a merchant who knows your homeland."

He opened his mouth, then hesitated.

A few hours ago, the name of his country would have been a simple answer. Now he did not even know whether it would mean anything to her.

"The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia."

Aris repeated the name carefully, then frowned.

"Where is that kingdom?"

He lowered his gaze to his hands.

"I think it's… very far from here."

He waited for another question, but she merely nodded and moved the tray closer. It held bread and a bowl of soup.

"Eat now. We can talk once you've rested."

He picked up the spoon but kept staring at the food without taking a bite.

"Thank you for helping me," he said quietly.

"We couldn't very well leave you in the forest."

She stood, then turned back at the door.

"And don't try going out alone. If you feel better after eating, I'll show you around the neighborhood myself."

By the afternoon, his dizziness had eased enough for him to go out with her.

Reigar paused on the doorstep, watching the street he had seen through the window. Everything sounded louder outside, and the air smelled of bread, smoke, and damp earth. A man passed close by carrying a cage of chickens, forcing Reigar to step back and make room.

Aris turned to him.

"Stay close. These alleys all look alike when you're seeing them for the first time."

He walked slowly beside her.

She showed him the well the neighborhood used, then the road to the market. At a street corner, she pointed out a small bakery and told him its owner closed early. Then she indicated a stone tower rising above the rooftops.

"If you get lost, look for that watchtower. Our house is on the street behind it."

He tried to memorize the route, but his attention kept catching on everything around him: the coins in a customer's hand, the swords at the guards' waists, the way the vendors called out their wares.

He understood what they were saying.

He had not noticed how strange that was while speaking with Aris. Now he could hear dozens of strangers, and he understood them all. He almost asked her about the language, then stopped. He had no idea how to phrase the question without making her even more puzzled by him.

At the market, Aris handed him a small fruit she had bought from a stall.

"You look as though you've never seen a market before."

He took it and glanced around.

"I've never seen one like this."

She smiled and continued walking.

That night, Reigar lay in bed with his phone resting on his chest.

He opened an old photograph and studied the faces in it. Only a short time ago, he could have reached those people with a call. Now he did not even know whether the sky above them was the same one he had seen through Aris's window.

He typed a short message.

"I'm okay."

He pressed send.

The failure icon remained beside it.

He turned off the screen before the battery could drain and slipped the phone beneath his pillow. Then he turned toward the window. All he could see outside was part of a neighboring roof and a narrow strip of sky.

He remembered his room, the game he had left running, and the monster he had planned to defeat when he returned from the restaurant. Those thoughts felt painfully close—things that belonged to this very day, yet were now beyond his reach.

Was anyone looking for him? Had he left anything on the road that might show where he had disappeared?

He pulled the blanket up to his chest.

He had loved the idea of going to another world when it was a story he could read or a game he could close. Now he wished he could hear a car beneath the window, his phone ringing, any sound he recognized.

He closed his eyes, then opened them once more to the wooden beams.

He was still here.

He listened to the sounds of the house until they faded. As exhaustion settled over him, his thoughts began to break apart. Just before sleep took him, he reached beneath the pillow and closed his fingers around his phone.

 

[ir3dx]

Chapter 3: Earning Money

Reigar woke with his hand beneath the pillow.

He took out his phone and pressed the side button. The screen lit up, showing the message he had tried to send the night before, with a failed delivery symbol beside it. He stared at it until the light dimmed, then switched the phone off before draining what remained of its battery.

He sat on the edge of the bed. The pain in his neck had eased, and the room no longer spun when he moved his head. Outside, he could hear the creak of a wheel and a vendor calling out to sell bread.

He wanted to understand where he had ended up and how to get home. Staring at his phone every few minutes would tell him nothing new.

He found Aris setting a kettle on the table.

"Good morning. Is there a library nearby?"

She looked at him, then at the empty chair.

"Good morning to you, too. Sit down first."

He sat, and she pushed the plate of bread toward him.

"What do you need from the library?"

"A better map, something about the history of this land... and magic."

"You'll find it near the market square. A stone building beside the scribes' shop."

She explained the route, and he repeated the turns to help himself remember. When he stood to leave, he asked her for the directions again.

She smiled.

"Turn at the well. Don't enter the alley behind it. That will bring you back here."

"Then at least I know the way home."

He pushed open the library door and stepped into cool air that smelled of paper and leather. Shelves stretched to the far end of the hall, with tables between them whose edges had worn smooth from years of use.

An elderly man looked up from behind a desk.

"Looking for a particular book?"

"I'd like some books to start with. The history of Istoza, the fundamentals of magic, and the monsters that live near cities."

The man studied him briefly, then led him to a low shelf. Before reaching for a book, Reigar asked quietly:

"Does it cost anything to read here?"

"Reading is free. Borrowing books is not."

Reigar breathed a little easier and took three volumes.

At the table, he paused over the title of the first. The letters were different from those he knew, yet he understood the words. He ran a finger beneath the line and read it again. He had no idea how he could do that, just as he had no idea how he had understood Aris from the moment they met. Slowly, he turned the page, searching for something that might explain it.

A map of the three continents spread across two pages. He found Istoza in the southeast and traced its mountains, forests, and coasts with his finger, continuing as far as the deserts. The author described it as the most beautiful of the continents, rich in farmland and resources, but its crowded borders seemed less reassuring to Reigar than that description.

Eight great kingdoms, and beside them, a name repeated among broken borders: Kadna.

"The Fragmented Kingdom," he read under his breath.

He searched until he found Dorth, then tried to locate Amraj within it. That was where he was now—a tiny point on a map he had never seen in his life.

The history chapter began with the arrival of the Norm people on the continent's western shores, where their ships had landed in a region called the Neck. There, they had founded the kingdom of Monten Beis, bringing knowledge and weapons that changed life across a continent inhabited by primitive humans, the Druk, and other creatures.

As the book described their expansion, an illustration showed an enormous warrior facing men armed with spears and iron shields. He read the caption beneath it: one of the Druk.

He lingered over the image. What had seemed, on the previous pages, like the story of a kingdom's founding was beginning to look like the hunting of another people. He placed a paper marker at the beginning of the chapter, then turned to the book on magic. He was searching for something more closely connected to what had happened to him.

In its opening pages, he found a term that appeared repeatedly in the explanations: Wahaj.

It was the energy a mage used to perform magic. The ability to direct it, however, and the amount a body could withstand, varied from person to person.

"Like mana..." he murmured, then continued reading.

Fire, water, earth, and wind formed the foundations of elemental magic. A mage controlled and influenced an element according to their knowledge and skill. Understanding the description, however, was not enough to use it. The following pages were filled with exercises for sensing and controlling Wahaj, along with warnings against pushing the body beyond what it had been trained to endure.

He looked down at his palm and stretched his fingers beneath the table.

He waited.

Nothing happened.

He returned his hand to the book before anyone noticed.

In the contents, he found chapters on less common arts, including metal shaping, healing, and protection. Divination caught his attention. Its description was not limited to seeing the future; it also included perceiving things beyond the reach of ordinary senses and suggested the possibility of looking into other dimensions.

He pulled the book closer.

Other dimensions.

He read the passage twice, then carried the volume to the librarian.

"Is there anyone in Amraj who knows this kind of magic?"

The man looked at the passage beneath his finger.

"No one I know. Those who possess it are rare."

"Are there more books about it?"

"There are references in travelers' accounts. I can look for them, but don't expect every tale to offer a sound explanation."

Reigar thanked him and returned to his seat. He had not found a way home, but he had found something he could ask about.

Before leaving, he opened the monster guide. He passed over the large illustrations that occupied entire pages and stopped at a chapter on pests found near farms. They posed smaller threats, but they were closer to him than a dragon living on a mountain he could not even locate.

He read about burrow rats: rodents the size of cats that gnawed through wood with their fangs and ruined seed stores. Their skulls were tough, but the underside of the neck was less protected. They avoided open ground and preferred to run alongside walls.

When he looked up, the sunlight had moved to the other end of the table.

He found Aris at home around midday, carrying a small basket. He took it from her and set it on the table.

"Did you find out what you wanted?" she asked.

"Enough to realize how little I know about this place."

He told her about the books, then hesitated before asking:

"How can I earn money here?"

She looked up at him.

"So soon?"

"I'll need food, books, and somewhere to stay. I can't leave you to pay for everything."

"I haven't asked you to leave."

"I know. But..."

She was quiet for a moment, then sat down.

"You could sell things at the market. Or register at the Wayfarers' Hall."

She explained that the Hall bought slain monsters and whatever useful parts could be taken from them. It also offered jobs that people paid to have done, from escorting merchants to moving supplies and helping with everyday tasks around the city.

"And don't start by escorting a caravan to the other end of the kingdom," she added.

"Why?"

"Because this morning, you needed the directions to the library explained twice."

He opened his mouth to object, then laughed.

"That's a fair point."

The Wayfarers' Hall was much noisier than the library. A man stood arguing over the price of a hide at a side counter, while others crowded around notices posted near the entrance.

Reigar looked through the jobs. He paused at the payment offered for escorting a merchant, then saw how long the journey would take and put the notice back. There was work carrying crates, too, but that would last several days. He wanted something nearby that he could finish in a day, a way to test what he could do without straying far from Amraj.

He found a request to eliminate three burrow rats in a seed store near the eastern fields. Beneath it was a reward of twelve copper coins.

He read it a second time, then took it to the clerk.

"I'd like to register and take this job."

"Your name?"

"Reigar."

She entered it in her ledger.

"Have you fought burrow rats before?"

"No. I read about them today."

The quill stopped.

"Do you know how to use a weapon?"

Aris spoke from beside him.

"I'll train him before he goes, and I'll accompany him to keep him safe."

The clerk looked at them both, then explained the conditions: they were to deliver the carcasses through the rear inspection gate, along with confirmation from the storehouse owner. The registration fee could be deducted from his first reward, together with the cost of renting a simple sword from the Hall's storeroom.

Reigar left holding the sword away from his body, as though afraid he might stab himself.

He spent the rest of the afternoon practicing in the yard behind the house. Aris corrected his grip and the placement of his feet, having him thrust into a sack stuffed with straw, withdraw the spear, and recover his balance. Those few movements would not make him a fighter, but at least he was beginning to understand how to keep the weapon from pulling him forward.

After a few attempts, his shoulders began to ache.

"It takes less time in books."

"A book doesn't get tired," Aris said.

When his next thrust went awry, she made him try again.

They reached the fields the following morning. The storehouse owner led them to a small building beside an old irrigation channel and showed them the gnawed bottom of the door and the scattered seeds.

"I saw three of them go under the wood. I tried driving them out yesterday, and one tore the leg of my trousers."

Reigar examined the piles of planks against the wall. Gnaw marks led toward them, while on the other side lay a stretch of open ground that ended at the road.

He turned to Aris.

"They run along walls when they're frightened. We can leave them only one way out."

They used the intact planks to block the gaps, leaving a narrow passage beside the irrigation channel. Aris braced the last board while Reigar took his place at the end of the passage. Then he asked the owner to disturb the wood with his stick from the opposite side.

A rustling sound reached him, and he tightened his grip on the spear.

The first rat emerged with its head close to the dirt. It was larger than he had imagined from the drawing. Its yellow fangs appeared as it squeezed between the boards, then it rushed toward him.

Reigar thrust too soon.

The spearhead struck the ground, and the rat reached his boot before he could pull it back. He stumbled away in panic, his heel catching the edge of the channel.

"Plant your feet!"

He lowered the spear across the passage, pushing the creature back with the wooden shaft. Its fangs scraped against the wood. This time, he waited until it raised its head, then drew the spear back, turned the point toward it, and thrust beneath its neck.

The animal's body convulsed. Reigar nearly let go of the weapon, but he pressed down with both hands until it stopped moving.

He remained where he was, breathing quickly, his eyes fixed on what he had done.

"Reigar. Look at me."

He raised his face toward Aris.

"Can you keep going?"

He swallowed, then nodded.

"Wait a moment."

She did not hurry him. She kept the board steady until his hands stopped shaking.

With the second rat, he kept the spearhead low and left more distance between himself and the opening. His first thrust missed its mark, but this time he maintained his balance and killed it with the second.

The third did not enter the passage. It lunged at a gap behind the board Aris was holding and struck it with its weight. Her foot slipped in the dirt, and its head appeared beside her leg.

Reigar moved toward her.

"Stay at the opening!" she said, pressing her knee against the board.

He stopped. If he left his position, the way would be clear.

He readied the spear again and waited. The rat recoiled from the board, then charged through the open passage. Reigar met it with an angled thrust and had to push it off the weapon before it fell onto its side.

Silence settled around them, broken only by his heavy breathing.

Aris lowered the board. He went to her at once.

"Your leg?"

"A scratch from the wood."

He looked at the small tear in her sleeve, then at her dusty knee.

"I should have braced the board with a stone."

"We'll do that next time."

She said it simply, then bent to pick up the rope. Reigar moved the board out of her way before helping her.

The storehouse owner gave them a sack for the carcasses and signed the job slip after they checked the area for more rats. When they reached the Wayfarers' Hall, Reigar returned the spear, then they emptied the sack at the inspection gate. The worker checked and counted the carcasses, adding the value of the usable hides to the completed job slip.

The clerk placed the money in front of Reigar.

"Twelve for the job and three for the hides. We deduct two for registration and one for the spear rental. That leaves you twelve."

He gathered them slowly. They were small, dark coins, some with visibly worn edges. He turned one between his fingers, remembering how badly his hands had shaken only hours earlier.

Outside, he counted out six coins and placed them in Aris's hand.

"Your share."

She looked down at the money.

"I wanted to help you get started."

"And without you, I would have had to put down the spear and hold that board."

She examined the splinter caught in her sleeve, then closed her hand around the coins.

"All right. But you're carrying the shopping home."

"As long as it doesn't bite."

They bought bread, lentils, and a few vegetables. At a small cart near the market, Aris slowed in front of some honey-covered pastries.

Reigar noticed her glance and bought one.

"I was going to save the rest of my money," he said as he divided it between them, "but this seems like a reasonable investment."

She took her half.

"In what?"

"In your patience with my questions tomorrow."

She laughed, then pointed to the larger piece he had given her.

"For this much? Only two questions."

Back at the house, she insisted he sit when she saw how much trouble he had lifting his arm. She prepared the meal and left him to clean the vegetables at the table. He asked about the first money she had earned, and she told him about delivering clothes to a tailor in the market—and the bundle she had dropped in a puddle before reaching his door.

"Did he pay you?"

"After I washed them."

"Then my rats were kinder than your tailor."

"Ask your shoulders tomorrow."

While she tended the pot, he took his phone from his pocket. He did not switch it on; he only rubbed the dust from its edge with his thumb.

Aris placed a bowl in front of him and sat down.

"Thinking about your family?"

He nodded.

"I keep thinking that they don't know where I am."

He stared at the black screen.

"Even if it takes me a while to get home... I want them to know I'm all right."

She did not answer immediately. She moved the bread closer to him, then said:

"Tomorrow, we'll go back to the library and ask about the books the man mentioned."

He looked up.

"You'll get bored sitting there."

"Maybe. You can read something to me."

He looked at the food between them, then set his phone beside his plate, screen down.

"About what?"

She thought for a moment.

"A monster we can kill without having to hold up a heavy board."

Reigar laughed, and she pushed the pot toward him so he could fill his bowl. This time, he reached for it without waiting for her to invite him again.

 

[ir3dx]

Chapter 4: The Journey

"Relax your shoulders. You won't draw the Glow out of your body by squeezing that poor thing."

Reigar looked down at the glass orb in his hands and loosened his grip.

Aris stood opposite him in the training yard. Between them was a narrow table holding four engraved plates and a wooden box she had yet to open. Behind her, straw dummies bore the marks of countless blows, and wooden swords leaned against the fence.

"Close your eyes and try to feel the warmth I told you about."

He obeyed.

At first, all he felt was the sun on his face and the grit beneath his feet. He took a slow breath, then another, and tried to ignore the creaking of the gate.

Little by little, he sensed a faint warmth beneath his chest.

He frowned.

The more he focused on it, the clearer it became: something moving with his breath, flowing into his arms in a way he could not explain.

"I think I can feel it."

"Good. Guide a little of it toward your hands. Just a little."

He imagined the warmth spreading into his fingers.

The orb lit up.

He opened his eyes to see red spreading through the heart of the glass. Smiling, he turned to her.

"Fire?"

She did not answer.

A blue thread wove through the red, then widened until it covered half the orb. An earthy hue followed, and a pale green shimmer curled around the other colors. The glass trembled between his palms, and the plates on the table began to ring intermittently.

Aris stepped forward abruptly.

"Stop channeling it."

"I'm not—"

She caught his wrists.

"Reigar, look at me. Let the feeling settle. Don't try to hold on to it."

He let out an unsteady breath. The light dimmed a little, but it did not go out until she took the orb from his hands.

Silence fell.

He looked at the plates, then at her.

"Did I break it?"

She was staring at the orb.

"How much Glow did you channel?"

"I don't know. I only did what you told me."

She carefully set it down and opened the wooden box. From it, she took a flat stone engraved with delicate circles connected by interwoven lines.

"Put your hand here."

"Will the same thing happen?"

"That's why I'll be holding your hand this time."

Aris repeated the test three times.

Each time, she wiped the engravings with a cloth, repositioned the stone, and asked him to try again. When she finished, she sat on the edge of the table and watched him in a silence that made his smile fade.

"Aris?"

She lifted her head.

"Usually, the body has an affinity for a particular kind of magic. Some people have an aptitude for more than one, but…"

She looked at the stone in her hand.

"Every path I tested responded to you. The basic elements, the derived forms, even the rare paths."

"You mean I can learn all of them?"

"Your body has the aptitude for it, yes."

He stared at her, waiting for her to qualify that statement or tell him he had misunderstood.

She added, "And you have enough Glow to overwhelm the testing instruments. I've never seen this before."

He lowered his gaze to his palms. He clenched his fingers, then spread them, as though expecting to see something different.

Every kind of magic.

Slowly, his smile returned.

"Then I can become a spellsword."

Aris raised an eyebrow.

"That's the first thing you thought of?"

"Fighting with a sword and using magic alongside it. Isn't that possible?"

"It is. If you learn to hold a sword without cutting your leg off, and to use the Glow without passing out."

He glanced at the orb on the table.

"I thought you said I had plenty of it."

"Plenty of water won't help you if you don't know how to drink without choking."

He was quiet for a moment. Then he stepped back and bowed to her.

Her expression changed.

"What are you doing?"

"Thanking you."

"You've already thanked me."

"I know. But you gave me a place to stay, fed me, and helped me when I knew nothing about this place."

He raised his head a little.

"And I want to ask you for another favor."

She folded her arms and waited.

"Teach me what you know about swordsmanship and magic. I'll do as you say, and I'll keep working. I won't ask you to cover my expenses."

Aris studied him, then looked at the swords leaning against the fence.

"Lift your head first."

He straightened.

She walked to the fence, chose a wooden sword, and returned to hand it to him.

He took it eagerly. She pointed at his hand.

"First lesson: your grip is wrong."

The next morning, Reigar discovered that having a rare talent did not make holding the same stance any less painful.

Aris would walk behind him and nudge his knee with the tip of her sword, lift his elbow, or move his foot back into position.

"Don't put all your weight on your front leg."

He adjusted his stance.

"Like this?"

She gave his sword a short strike. He lost his balance and had to hop a step to keep from falling.

"If you had it right, you wouldn't have moved like that."

He gave her an irritated look. She smiled.

"Again."

For the first few weeks, his training was limited to stances, footwork, cuts, and parries. She would not let him use the sweeping movements he tried to imitate, and whenever he raised his arm too far, she tapped his chest with her sword.

His magic training began with a flame no larger than the tip of his finger.

Igniting it proved easier than he expected. Keeping it the same size was another matter. Sometimes it went out at once. Other times it flared high enough to singe his eyebrows.

Aris laughed for a long time that day.

"I said a small flame."

He wiped his face with his sleeve.

"It was small at first."

He learned to release a measured amount of Glow and stop its flow when he wanted. He lifted water a little way out of a bowl, moved soil into narrow lines, and pushed dry leaves with gusts of air. Fire responded most readily, so he devoted more of his training to it without neglecting the other elements.

When he tried to rush into strengthening his body with the Glow, he ended up lying beside the fence, his leg trembling with a cramp.

Aris sat beside him and handed him some water.

"Will you listen to me now?"

He took the cup, avoiding her eyes.

"Probably."

"Reigar."

"Yes. I'll listen."

He worked, then came to the training yard, and returned each evening with dusty clothes and hands that hurt when he held a spoon. Some nights, he fell asleep over his open book before finishing the page.

Weeks passed, then months.

He became able to parry blows he could barely follow at first. He learned to retreat without tangling his legs, to keep his balance after an attack, and to stop watching only his opponent's sword.

His magic grew more precise as well. He could light firewood without burning everything around it, gather water into a cup, and raise a low earthen barrier. He also learned to strengthen his arms for brief moments, then ease the flow of Glow before straining his muscles.

Combining swordsmanship and magic remained his greatest challenge.

Whenever he focused on a spell, he left part of his body exposed, and Aris's sword found the opening.

"Your opponent won't wait for you to finish."

"I noticed."

"Then stop giving them the chance."

Five months later, Reigar stood before her in the same yard.

Aris moved first.

He parried her strike and retreated half a step. The second came toward his shoulder. He leaned away, then released a short gust of air that stirred the dust between them.

He moved to the side and thrust.

Wood struck wood.

Before he could draw his weapon back, he felt the tip of her sword settle beneath his ribs.

He froze.

She looked at him through the dust.

"Good idea."

He glanced down at the sword touching his body.

"Bad ending."

"Because you stopped to check whether your plan had worked."

She withdrew her weapon, and he stepped back, catching his breath.

"Am I ready?"

She knew what he meant. Her gaze moved to his hands, where calluses had formed at the base of his fingers, before she returned her sword to the fence.

"You've learned the basics. And you can protect yourself in some situations."

"Some?"

"If you're looking for someone who can guarantee your safety for the entire journey, you won't find them."

He nodded, his smile fading.

She added, "But I'm no longer afraid you'll hurt yourself every time you pick up a sword."

He laughed.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

The following day, Reigar emptied his savings onto his bed.

He arranged the coins in rows, then divided them into three portions: equipment, food and lodging, and unexpected expenses along the road. He studied the first portion for a while, then moved a few coins from it to the last.

When he entered the market this time, he did not stop to stare at everything.

He began at the weapons shop.

The owner offered him a sword with an ornate hilt, but he handed it back after hearing the price. Instead, he chose a plain longsword, testing its grip and weight several times and inspecting the blade as Aris had taught him.

He bought light leather armor reinforced with metal plates at the chest and shoulders, then a pair of sturdy traveling boots and a cloak that would keep out the rain.

In a small shop selling magical tools, he paused before a dull silver ring.

"It's for lighting," the shopkeeper said. "Channel a little Glow into it, and it will light your way."

"How long does it last?"

"As long as you keep supplying it with energy."

Reigar tried it. A steady white light appeared above the stone. He covered it with his palm, then moved his hand away and smiled.

He could afford it.

He completed his purchases with a waterskin, rope, a whetstone, bandages, dried food, and a map of the nearby roads.

When he returned, Aris made him empty his pack and arrange it again.

She lifted the bandages from the bottom.

"Are you going to ask whoever attacks you to wait while you unpack your clothes?"

He took them and put them in a side pocket.

"I was going to try reasoning with him."

"Take more food. He might be less kind than I am."

On the morning of his departure, Reigar woke before she called him.

He folded the blanket, checked that his pack was fastened, then took his phone from beneath the pillow. He pressed the button, bringing to life the screen he now rarely turned on.

He studied it for a moment, then switched the device off, wrapped it in a piece of cloth, and tucked it among his clothes.

Aris was waiting by the door with a small bundle.

"Bread and some cheese. Eat them today."

He took it and placed it in his pack.

"I think I have enough food."

"And I think you'll forget to eat once you get caught up in your journey."

He did not argue.

She accompanied him to the city gate. Carts, merchants, and travelers passed beside them, while beyond the guards, the road stretched out between the fields.

Reigar stopped near the gate and adjusted his sword belt.

"I'll follow the main road to the next city. And I'll ask about the road conditions before going any farther."

"And you won't go into the forest looking for a shortcut."

He smiled.

"And I won't go into the forest."

She glanced at the buckle on his pack and tightened it one last time, though it was already secure.

He watched her fingers for a moment.

"Aris."

She looked up.

"I won't forget what you've done for me."

She opened her mouth, but he continued.

"I know you're going to say I've thanked you enough, so hear me out this time. When I arrived, I had no one here. If it hadn't been for you…"

He stopped, then gave her a small smile.

"I'll repay your kindness someday. I promise."

Her expression softened.

"Come back safely first."

He nodded, then drew a breath as though preparing for another duel.

"And when we meet again, I'm going to marry you."

She kept staring at him.

Then her face reddened.

"That's what you choose to say just as you're about to leave?"

He felt warmth rise into his own face, but he did not look away.

"If I waited any longer, I might not have had the courage to say it."

Aris clasped her hands in front of her. She glanced at the road behind him, then back at his face.

"You idiot… Take care of yourself."

Her voice faltered for a moment.

"And don't forget your promise."

His smile widened, and he let out a short, relieved laugh.

"I never will."

He stepped back and raised his hand in farewell.

She remained by the gate, watching him. He waved again before turning and setting off down the road.

He intended to travel across the continent of Istoza, to see the cities whose names he had learned from maps, and to discover what neither books nor the training yard could teach him.

But when he looked back one last time and saw Aris still standing there, his steps slowed a little, and a pang of sadness settled over him.

Yet the journey was not over. It had only just begun.

 

[ir3dx]

Chapter 5: The Monsters' Den

Rigar was walking alongside the fields when he came upon a crooked signpost. An arrow carved into the wood pointed north, with a name beneath it: Botsdar.

He stopped to tighten the belt holding his longsword. There, in the capital of the Kingdom of Dorth, he would look for work that would put his training to the test—and a teacher who could take his magic beyond the basics.

Eight days had passed since he left Amraj. He had slept beneath trees and in barns whose owners allowed him to stay the night. The rub of leather armor against his shoulders had become familiar, though it still left him aching by evening.

Near sunset, he spotted a cluster of low houses beyond a wooden fence.

He read the sign at the entrance.

"Bird's Nest."

I'll stay for one night, then be on my way.

But the first thing he saw was a broken gate, which a man was trying to secure with a rope. Beyond it stood houses with boarded windows, empty livestock pens, and a well where women waited with small containers. A child passed him carrying a sack. When a handful of barley spilled out, the boy dropped to his knees and began gathering the grains from the dirt.

Rigar slowed his pace.

In a house that offered lodging to travelers, a woman set a bowl of thin soup before him. The door opposite had been sealed with fresh boards, but dried blood still marked the doorway.

"What happened here?" he asked.

Her hand paused beside the bowl.

"Goblins. They come out of the forest every few days."

"Isn't there a garrison nearby?"

"We sent for help. No one came."

She sat on the edge of the bench.

"They took our grain and livestock. In the last few attacks, they took seven women, too. Our men went after them. Some came back badly wounded."

He looked down at the soup. His spoon had yet to touch it.

"Where can I find the village chief?"

He found the old man repairing an axe handle outside his house. The chief listened until Rigar had finished, then set the axe aside.

"I can help you clear out their den," Rigar said. "I'll need five people, including someone who knows the forest."

The old man studied his sword, then his young face.

"How many battles have you fought?"

Rigar hesitated.

"Not enough to promise you this will be easy. But I know how to use a sword and magic. We'll scout the place first. I won't lead your people blindly to their deaths."

He held out his palm. A small flame sprang to life above it, then shrank to the size of his fingertip and went out.

The chief continued staring at his hand.

"We have no money to pay a mage."

"Just give me some food for the road when I return."

Before nightfall, five villagers stood before him: Mike, a hunter carrying a bow; Thorn, a broad man with a shield and an axe; Basto and Minak, each armed with a spear; and Liya, a young woman gripping a short wooden staff.

"These are the people we can spare," the chief said. "The others will stay behind to guard the houses."

Rigar turned to Liya.

"What kind of magic do you use?"

"Water. I can push an enemy back or block a blow, but I can't keep it up for long."

"Stay behind Thorn. Only use your Glow when you need to."

They spent the night checking their weapons and wrapping any metal parts that might clink together as they walked. Mike drew their route through the forest in the dirt, marking the valley he had seen the goblins heading toward.

At dawn, they left without torches.

A few hours later, Mike raised his fist. Everyone crouched behind the roots of an enormous tree.

Below them lay a clearing in front of a cave in the hillside. Crates and sacks were scattered across it, and a cart stood tilted beside the rocks. Two goblins guarded the entrance while others moved around the embers of a fire.

Rigar watched for a long time. He counted twelve small goblins. Then a creature appeared behind them, so large that it had to duck to pass through the cave entrance. Iron plates secured with straps covered its chest, and it carried a thick club studded with nails.

"That's the one that broke the gate," Minak whispered.

The chief went back inside.

Rigar's throat felt dry. Nothing he had faced in training had been that large.

He gathered the others close.

"Mike, take the rock on the right. Thorn, Basto—block the passage between the cart and the wall. Minak, protect Liya."

He pointed toward the cave.

"The women may be inside, so we won't use fire against the entrance. We'll draw the goblins out. No one chases an enemy alone."

"And the big one?" Thorn asked.

Rigar tightened his grip on his sword.

"Leave him to me."

They waited until the smaller goblins had spread out and one of the guards bent over a bowl. Rigar nodded to Mike.

An arrow flew, and the guard fell beside the wall.

Rigar rushed the second before it could understand what had happened. The goblin reached for a horn hanging around its neck, but his blade struck first. The horn slipped from its fingers.

A shriek rang out near the fire.

The goblins charged, knives and short spears raised.

Three came at Rigar at once.

His body wanted to retreat straight backward, just as he had during his earliest days with Aris. Instead, he forced his foot to move sideways, putting the nearest attacker between himself and the other two.

He deflected its knife with a short sliding motion of his blade, then drove his sword into its chest and pulled it free.

The second rushed him from the left.

Rigar thrust out his palm. A burst of fire struck the creature's face, sending it stumbling backward. He followed with a blow that brought it down before it could recover its balance.

The third leaped over the body.

Its knife caught Rigar's left forearm, slicing through the skin. He drew back half a step, turned his hips, and swept his sword beneath the goblin's raised arm.

It fell at his feet.

He looked at the blood running toward his ring. He had made a mistake by watching the enemy he had already brought down.

"Rigar! On the rock!"

He ducked at Liya's cry. A stone passed through the space where his head had been, and Mike's arrow struck the goblin that had thrown it.

At the passage, Thorn caught an attack on his shield and shoved his opponent onto Basto's spear. When another tried to circle around him, he brought his axe down on it.

Minak suddenly screamed.

A blade slashed his thigh, and his leg buckled. Before a second thrust could reach him, a mass of water surged from Liya's staff and knocked the goblin sideways. It slammed into the cart, where Thorn finished it with a single blow.

Three of the smaller goblins remained, retreating between the crates.

Then the ground trembled beneath a heavy footstep.

The chief emerged, roaring so loudly that its voice echoed between the rocks. It smashed a crate with its club, sending splinters flying, then charged toward Thorn.

"Move!"

Rigar shoved Thorn by the shoulder. The club caught the edge of his shield, splitting it and throwing him to the ground.

Rigar stepped between him and the monster.

Up close, the head of the club was larger than his chest.

It rose again.

He leaped aside. The nails struck the ground, and a shard of stone hit him in the side. His breath caught, but he carried the movement through and slashed the monster's right leg.

The blade cut into its flesh without bringing it down.

The chief turned faster than he expected and swung its elbow. The blow caught his shoulder, sending him rolling across the ground.

"Rigar!" Mike shouted.

"Stay with the others!"

He rose onto one knee. The three remaining goblins were pressing his companions. If they abandoned their positions, Minak and Liya would be exposed.

The chief advanced, dragging its club.

Rigar tried to gather fire in his palm, but the flame flickered with his uneven breathing.

Aris's voice came back to him.

"Breathe out. Your shoulders are too tense."

He exhaled.

The flame narrowed and steadied.

He hurled it at the monster's face. The chief raised an arm to shield itself, and Rigar stepped beneath it, striking the straps along the side of its chest. One snapped, leaving an iron plate hanging loose.

But he was too slow to withdraw.

The club came down at an angle. He threw himself behind a rock. Its edge shattered, showering his back with fragments.

He could unleash stronger flames, but he could not be certain they would hit the chief alone. And every sweeping attack with his sword left him unable to change direction quickly enough.

He wiped the dirt from his mouth and watched the monster's feet.

Whenever it raised the club, it shifted its weight onto its right leg.

He stepped out from behind the rock.

"Over here!"

The chief charged. Rigar sent his Glow into the ground ahead of it, raising a ridge of stone beneath its foot.

The ridge shattered under its weight.

Rigar's eyes widened.

But the foot stumbled for a moment.

That was enough for him to evade the blow and move toward the exposed side. His sword cut into the wounded leg a second time, and he withdrew before the club swung back.

The chief bellowed, following him with uneven steps.

Rigar did not stop. He darted in again and cut the remaining straps, sending the plates sliding off the monster's chest. He backed away from one blow and circled around another. Whenever the distance between them widened, he sent out a short burst of flame that forced the chief to raise its arm.

Beside the cart, Basto stared at him.

"He's driving it back…"

"Watch your side!" Liya shouted.

Basto tore his gaze away and raised his spear against one of the smaller goblins.

The chief retreated until its leg struck a rock. It raised its club in both hands and let out a harsh roar.

Rigar planted his feet.

This time, he waited for the shift in weight.

When the monster's right leg bore most of its weight, he pushed his Glow into the ground beneath the edge of its foot. A small, slanted block of stone rose beneath it. The ankle twisted, and the knee buckled.

Rigar's left hand released a burst of fire in front of its eyes.

The chief squeezed its eyes shut, and its club came crashing down wide of its target.

Rigar stepped in from the side. Gripping his sword with both hands, he drove it into the chest that had lost its armor.

The monster's arms went rigid.

He pushed the blade deeper, then pulled it free and staggered back.

The chief dropped to its knees. It tried to raise its club, but its fingers loosened, and the weapon slipped from its grasp. Then it collapsed forward.

Rigar stood with his sword raised, waiting for it to move again.

It did not.

Behind him, Thorn shouted, "That's the last one!"

Rigar slowly lowered his sword. His forearm had begun to tremble. He had to rest the blade against the ground.

Mike approached, pressing a hand to his bleeding shoulder.

"You said you knew magic… You didn't say you could do that."

Rigar tried to smile.

"I wasn't sure I could, either."

They checked the clearing before entering the cave. All twelve goblins were dead, along with their chief, and their party had lost no one.

A spear had wounded Mike's shoulder. Thorn's shoulder was swollen, and a painful bruise was forming over Basto's ribs. Minak's thigh wound needed a tight bandage. Liya sat down for a while to catch her breath, having used most of her Glow.

She washed Rigar's wound with clean water, and he wrapped it in a strip of cloth. His shoulder hurt whenever he moved it, but he managed to return his sword to its sheath.

"The women," he said, getting to his feet.

His ring lit up, and they went inside.

They found sacks of grain and stolen tools first. Then they heard movement behind a wooden barrier.

When Basto pulled it aside, a woman shrank back into the darkness and raised her arms to shield her face.

Rigar stopped at the opening.

"We're from the village. We've come to take you home."

She did not answer.

Liya stepped forward and called her by name. The woman recognized her voice and burst into tears.

Five women were still alive, weakened by hunger and thirst. At the far end of the recess, beneath a tattered covering, they found the bodies of the other two.

Mike knelt before one of them. He remained silent, then took off his cloak and covered her face.

They helped the survivors drink and cut the bindings from their wrists. Basto repaired the cart's axle with what he found among the tools. They placed the two bodies and the weakest survivors on the cart, while the others walked with their rescuers' support. Most of the supplies were left behind for the villagers to collect later.

Rigar took hold of the front of the cart beside Basto, and they began the journey back.

When the gate came into view, the boy who had been gathering barley spotted them. He dropped what he was holding and ran, shouting.

People poured out of their houses.

A woman rushed toward her daughter, and the two sank to the ground beside the road, holding each other. A man lifted his wife from the cart, repeating her name as though he feared she might disappear if he fell silent.

Then those standing at the gate saw the bodies.

The cheers faded. An elderly man approached and lifted the edge of one of the cloaks. Then he sat on the ground beside the wheel.

Rigar released the cart's handle. He could find nothing to say.

The village chief stepped forward and bowed deeply.

"You came to us as a stranger and did what we could not. You brought our people back… and gave us the chance to bury those we lost."

Rigar took his arm and helped him straighten.

"Your men and Liya were with me. I couldn't have brought them back alone."

They spent the rest of the day tending the wounded and comforting the families. After Rigar had eaten, sleep overtook him before he could take off his boots.

The next morning, he was securing his belongings when the chief approached, with Liya behind him.

The old man handed him a sack of bread and provisions.

"For the road. And I have one more request."

Rigar looked up.

"Take Liya with you. She's a good mage. She'll be useful on your journey."

Rigar stopped fastening his pack.

"With me? I can't do that. I'm heading to Botsdar now, but I'll keep traveling afterward. I don't know where I'll settle."

Liya took a step forward.

"I asked him to speak to you. You won't even notice I'm there, and I won't be a burden. I can help you. Please."

"She has no family here," the chief said, "and no one who can teach her more than she already knows. She'll spend her days guarding these houses and working in the fields, no matter how much talent she has. With someone as strong as you, she may find a future worthy of her."

Rigar looked at her.

"The road won't be safe."

"I know. I was there with you yesterday."

He remembered the mass of water that had knocked the knife away from Minak. Then he remembered Aris opening her door to him, back when he had owned nothing in this world.

He remained silent for a few moments before sighing.

"All right. But don't promise I won't notice you're there. I'll need someone to watch my back."

Her smile widened.

"Then you're saying yes?"

"We're leaving shortly."

She ran off to pack. The chief watched her go before turning back to him.

"We won't forget what you've done, Rigar. You'll always be the savior of Bird's Nest."

A little later, Rigar and Liya passed through the gate. Behind them, men had begun lifting planks to repair the fence. Voices called their farewells until the distance swallowed them.

At the fork in the road, Rigar pointed to the sign.

"Botsdar is this way."

Liya adjusted her pack and fell into step beside him, heading toward the capital.

 

[ir3dx]

Chapter 6: The Capital
The crossroads had barely disappeared behind them when Liya turned to Rigar.

"Have you been to Botsdar before?"

"No."

She looked at the road stretching between the hills, then back at him.

"You pointed the way so confidently."

"I was pointing where the sign told me to."

She laughed and adjusted the bag on her shoulder.

"Good. I was afraid I'd have to guide you, and I've never been there either."

He kept walking beside her. His forearm ached beneath the bandage, and the farther they walked, the stiffer his shoulder became. Still, he wanted to put more distance between them and the village before stopping.

Before long, Liya slowed her pace.

"We could rest by those trees."

"We're not tired yet."

"You've been moving your bag from one shoulder to the other for a while."

He looked at her, then at his bag.

"You're very observant."

"You said you needed someone to watch your back."

He had no answer to that. He headed for the shade, and she followed, hiding a smile.

He sat on a rock beside a narrow stream and removed the bandage from his forearm to check the wound. Liya knelt by the water, filled a small bowl, and handed it to him.

"Did you learn magic in the village?" he asked as he cleaned the edges of the wound.

"There was a woman who knew some water magic. I used to help her gather herbs, and she taught me whenever she had time."

"And water was all you learned?"

She nodded.

"I'm not even as good at that as I'd like. During the fight at the lair, I was afraid I'd run out of Glow before I could help anyone."

"But you saved Minak."

She lowered her eyes to the bowl.

"I was close to him."

"Just being nearby wouldn't have saved him."

She took the bandage from his hand and began wrapping his forearm more carefully than he had managed.

After a while, she asked, "What about you? Who taught you to use a sword?"

"A woman named Aris."

He told her about the months he had spent training, and the morning he had thought he had finally mastered parrying—only for Aris to knock him flat on his back three times.

"All in one day?"

"Before breakfast."

Liya burst out laughing and pulled the bandage tight without noticing.

"Ow!"

She eased up at once.

"Sorry!"

He looked at his arm, then at her.

"I'm beginning to think you have the same teaching methods."

She laughed again and finished tying the bandage with a lighter touch.

Over two days of walking, conversation came more easily. He learned that she preferred traveling in the morning, that she was better at finding her bearings by the sun than he was, and that she hated the raisins the village women had packed with their provisions.

She learned that he could become absorbed in explaining a battle plan, then forget the pot over the fire until half its water had boiled away.

On the second evening, she pulled the pot away from the embers and looked at what remained of the soup.

"Is this another way of lightening our packs?"

He reached for the bread.

"Would you do the cooking tomorrow?"

"I was going to, even if you hadn't asked."

When he lay down beside the fire, he heard her stifle another laugh. He smiled as he tucked his bag beneath his head.

---

On the morning of the third day, the road widened, and wagons began passing them more frequently.

Fields appeared behind low stone walls, with narrow irrigation channels running between them. Men and women bent over rows of vegetables, while a boy drove two oxen pulling a plow, shouting whenever they veered toward the edge.

Beside the road, a woman sold milk from jars covered with cloth. Next to her, a man sat repairing a wheel on an overturned wagon.

Liya slowed beside an orchard stretching beyond a short wall.

"Does all this go to the capital?"

A farmer lifting a crate onto his wagon answered her.

"And just as much from the other directions. The people of Botsdar never stop eating."

He pointed north.

"If you hurry, you'll get inside before the midday rush of wagons."

Liya thanked him and returned to Rigar's side.

The farther they went, the more houses, smithies, and grain stores appeared. A caravan carrying bolts of cloth passed them, followed by mules laden with chests held in place by straps. A merchant shouted at a boy trying to catch up with his wagon. The boy ran with a piece of bread in his mouth, waving a shoe the man had left behind where he had rested.

Some of the passersby laughed, and eventually the merchant did too, once he understood why the boy was chasing him.

Rigar stopped at the crest of a gentle rise.

Ahead of him stood the walls of Botsdar.

The gray wall stretched in a long line broken by square towers flying the banners of Dorth. Soldiers moved along its upper walkway, their iron helmets flashing whenever the sunlight caught them. An arched gateway stood at its center, wide enough for two wagons side by side.

Beyond the walls rose other towers, taller and more slender. A white dome gleamed in the sunlight, and in the distance, a castle stood on a hill, surrounded by tiers of walls.

Liya raised a hand to shade her eyes.

"I knew it was big…"

She did not finish.

Rigar studied the road climbing toward the gate. Wagons, pack animals, and travelers passed through the guard posts in slow queues.

He remembered the gate at Bird's Nest, and the man holding it up with a rope.

Here, a line of soldiers stood at the entrance in metal breastplates, carrying long spears. Behind them, others inspected the wagons' cargo.

When their turn came, a guard asked where they were headed.

"The Wayfarers' Hall," Rigar said. "I'd like to register."

The guard examined his sword, then glanced at Liya's staff.

"Follow the main street to the Fountain of Spears. You'll see the Hall's emblem on the right side of the square."

He let them through.

Liya entered first, then stopped after a few steps. Rigar had to draw her gently aside by the arm before a wagon behind them could hit her.

"We've got time to look around."

But the moment he looked up, his own steps slowed too.

Buildings rose three and four stories on either side of the street, with iron balconies projecting from their facades. Fabrics and pots of plants hung from the windows. Above one entrance, a mason had carved an enormous lion's face, making the people passing below seem to walk beneath its jaws.

Shops selling bread, perfume, and cloth stretched beneath closely spaced awnings. The scent of roasting meat mingled with spices and new leather, while the cries of vendors blended with hoofbeats and the steady ring of a hammer in a nearby alley.

A man in an embroidered robe and polished shoes passed by, followed by a servant carrying his purchases. A laborer with bare forearms overtook him, a long plank on his shoulder forcing the man to duck abruptly.

Liya covered her mouth, and Rigar turned his face away so the man would not see them laughing.

In the square stood a bronze statue of a king holding a sword pointed toward the ground. His other hand rested on a shield leaning against his leg. Behind him rose the columns of a broad building, reached by steps running the length of its facade. On either side of the staircase stood stone statues of knights bearing the kingdom's banners.

Rigar raised his head to study the king's features and the folds of his robe, which seemed to ripple across the bronze.

Liya tugged his sleeve just before he stepped into a vendor's basket of figs.

She looked at him.

"We've got time to look around, don't we?"

He stepped away from the basket.

"I was making sure you remembered."

---

They found the Hall at the edge of the square, a broad stone building. Above its entrance was the emblem of a compass with a sword at its center.

A man carrying a bow taller than Liya emerged as a group in dusty clothes went inside, arguing over a bag one of them was carrying.

Rigar stopped beside the fountain.

"I'll register. Could you look for somewhere to stay? We need two rooms at a reasonable price."

"How reasonable?"

He told her what he could afford. She thought for a moment, then nodded.

"Shall we meet here?"

"In an hour. If I'm not out yet, wait for me by the door."

She turned back before leaving.

"Don't spend all the room money on registration."

"And don't book us a suite in the castle."

She glanced toward the distant hill.

"I'll ask the price first."

She left him and turned down a side street.

Inside, Rigar paused until his eyes adjusted to the dim light. A large board covered with papers occupied the left wall, with wayfarers gathered in front of it, pointing at requests and discussing them. On the opposite side, a clerk weighed a small bag, then paid a man carrying a monster's horn wrapped in leather.

He approached the registration desk.

The clerk looked up.

"Name?"

"Rigar."

"Specialty?"

"I fight with a sword and use fire magic."

She wrote that down, then asked about his experience. When he told her he had helped destroy a goblin lair near Bird's Nest, her quill paused.

"Do you have a statement from the village elder?"

"I didn't think to ask for one."

"I'll make a note of it, but it won't count toward promotion without a statement. You can bring one later."

She pushed a form toward him and waited for him to sign it and pay the fee. Then she took a small copper badge and engraved his number on the back.

"This is proof of your registration. You'll start with jobs assigned to Copper rank, and every job you complete will be recorded in your file."

He turned the badge over in his palm. It was simpler than he had imagined: a piece of copper bearing the emblem he had seen above the door.

Even so, he kept looking at it as he headed outside.

At the top of the steps, he noticed a man approaching the Hall and stopped to look.

He was taller than most of the people around him, broad across the shoulders, with dark plates of armor covering his chest. An enormous sword was secured to his back, and an axe hung at his hip alongside daggers and small leather pouches. An old scar ran from his temple to the bottom of his jaw. People moved out of his way before he reached them.

Rigar stepped down while fastening the badge to his belt. Just as he shifted aside to avoid someone coming up, his shoulder struck the warrior's.

He staggered back a step, pain shooting through his wounded arm.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to."

The man stopped.

Rigar looked up at him.

The warrior lowered his gaze to Rigar's face, then examined his leather armor, sword, and copper badge. His eyes paused on Rigar's dusty boots before returning to meet his gaze.

For several minutes, he continued to study him, undisguised disdain in his eyes.

Rigar felt his fingers clench beside his belt and forced them to relax. He lifted his chin slightly and tried to ignore the faces turning toward them. The silence dragged on, and he had no desire to repeat his apology.

At last, one corner of the warrior's mouth lifted. He turned away and climbed the steps, leaving Rigar standing below.

One of the wayfarers whispered behind him.

"Deron the Storm."

Rigar turned.

"That was Deron?"

The man looked toward the entrance.

"The most famous wayfarer in Botsdar. They say he killed a dragon alone."

Rigar looked back at the doorway where the warrior had disappeared.

He did not know whether the story was true. But he remembered the size of the axe at the man's hip, and the way everyone had cleared a path for him.

---

When he returned to the desk, the clerk raised an eyebrow.

"Did you forget something?"

"I wanted to ask about the ranks."

She pointed her quill at a board behind him. Sample badges were arranged on it from bottom to top.

"There are six ranks. Copper comes first: gathering herbs, delivering messages, and other jobs nearby that carry little risk. Then Iron, for guarding short routes and fighting small monsters in teams."

Rigar followed the badges with his eyes.

"Next is Silver, for those who have proved they can handle more difficult work without constant supervision. After that comes Gold. Those wayfarers are assigned to lead parties and hunt dangerous monsters."

She raised the quill to the next badge.

"Then Platinum. They're called in when ordinary parties aren't enough—to stop a monster threatening a city, or to lead an expedition requiring exceptional strength and experience."

Only one badge remained at the top.

"And the last one?"

"Legendary. A rare rank that no single branch can award on its own. It requires a record of achievements and approval from the Hall's council."

"And Deron?"

She pointed to the top of the board.

"He holds it."

Rigar looked at the copper badge on his belt, then asked, "How do promotions work? Do you need to finish a certain number of jobs?"

"Completing jobs makes you eligible for an assessment. We consider their difficulty, the reports on your performance, and your test results. Delivering messages over and over won't qualify you to lead an expedition."

He thanked her and left.

This time, he secured his badge before going down the steps.

---

Liya was waiting by the fountain, watching a child try to retrieve a coin from the bottom with a stick.

When she saw him, she came over.

"I found a place."

Then she noticed his expression.

"Did they refuse to register you?"

He held up the badge.

"They registered me."

"Then why do you look as though you paid for the whole Hall?"

As they walked, he told her about Deron. When he mentioned the dragon, she stopped for a moment.

"Alone?"

"That's what they say."

She glanced at his forearm.

"Did he hurt you when you bumped into him?"

"My arm ached a little. I'm fine."

They walked on, but he noticed that she had chosen the side nearest the wagons, leaving him the space along the wall.

The inn stood on a quieter street behind the cloth market. A yellow lamp was painted on its sign, and beneath it, the owner stood shaking out a blanket by the door.

Rigar paid the agreed price, and they climbed a narrow wooden staircase.

Liya opened one of the rooms. Inside were a bed against the wall, a small table, and a water jug. The window overlooked the neighboring rooftops. She bent to check beneath the bed, then straightened, satisfied.

"It's clean. And the owner promised us hot food."

Rigar pressed a hand against the mattress, then sat and stretched out his legs. He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a long breath.

"Excellent choice."

Liya set her bag beside the door to the next room.

"I'll go to the Hall with you tomorrow. I want to register too."

"We'll go early."

They ate downstairs. He told her about the ranks, and they discussed buying a fresh bandage and some provisions. As their weariness deepened, the conversation dwindled, and they went upstairs.

At the door to his room, Liya stopped.

"Rigar."

He turned toward her.

"Thank you for taking me with you."

He looked at her bag by the door and the staff leaning against the wall beside it.

"Who would have saved the soup if I'd left you behind?"

She smiled and shook her head.

"Good night."

"You too."

He closed the door, unbuckled his sword belt, and set it near the bed. He removed his armor slowly, taking care with his shoulder, then placed the copper badge on the table.

Outside, wagon wheels kept turning, and a vendor called out the last of his wares.

Rigar lay down and rested his arm on the blanket.

Deron's face passed through his mind, followed by the board in the Hall and the line of badges stretching from Copper to Legendary. He tried to remember some of the requests he had seen and think of one he could take tomorrow.

But the sounds of the street began to fade. His breathing steadied, and sleep claimed him before he could choose his first job.