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Traveler's Will: Chronicles of the Lost Worlds

Attention: The writing really improves after the chapter 20. I'll set myself the task to rewrite the early chapters to match the writing quality of the late chapters. I'll write in the header if the chapter was rewritten. This is the tale of the Traveler, a man driven by a quest for meaning and a thirst to define his own worth. Follow him, as he journeys through a world shrouded in darkness. As his story is told, he shall confront his deepest fears in a relentless battle for survival. His path is fraught with cruel sorrow, wandering, and the relentless pursuit of freedom from a cruel fate. Bear witness to a journey fueled by unmatched will, where one man’s struggle shall be the catalyst to ignite a legend! ~ Synopsis, courtesy from #BrokenAmbition.  Copyright - 2023 Michael Willian Santos (vorlefan) All rights reserved. This notice indicates that the work is protected by copyright, identifies the copyright owner (Michael Willian Santos, vorlefan), and indicates the year of publication (2023). The phrase "All rights reserved" further emphasizes that the work is protected and that no one may use it without permission.

vorlefan · Fantasía
Sin suficientes valoraciones
50 Chs

Blessings from Father Joe

The shared room in the church exuded rustic charm. Each wooden beam was smooth from years of use, and the air was thick with the aroma of aged oak and beeswax candles.

Asdras and Brian lay sprawled on their beds, blankets rumpled. Soft candlelight danced on the wooden walls, casting a warm glow that traced the cracks and crevices in the oak. The distant murmur of morning prayers whispered through the air, adding a layer of comforting routine.

Father Joe entered the room with measured steps. His presence was soothing, and his eyes crinkled in a benevolent smile as he cleared his throat, speaking in a fatherly tone.

"Good morning, lads," he greeted them. "It looks like you're late for the coffee break."

Asdras stretched languidly, yawning groggily as he woke. Brian snorted softly and rubbed his eyes, grumbling as he woke.

"Coffee break already? It feels like we just went to bed."

"Time waits for no one, boys." Joe chuckled warmly. "And by the smell of it, a quick dip in the river wouldn't hurt before heading to the pub."

Brian's eyes sparkled with anticipation as he swung his legs off the bed.

Asdras, more reserved, rose from his bed, stretching deliberately as the stiffness of sleep melted away.

"A dip in the river should freshen us up," Brian admitted.

"Here you go, lads. Don't forget to scrub behind your ears," Joe said, handing each of them a cloth made from fur and rough-spun fabric.

The friends nodded, draping the clothes over their shoulders. They exchanged a glance, a playful, knowing smile passing between them as they recalled their promise from the night before.

As they left the room and headed toward the river, a jovial farmer greeted them with a hearty laugh. "Morning, lads! Off for a dip in the river?"

"Just aiming to clear the cobwebs, sir," Brian said, smiling as he waved.

"And the barn smell from yesterday's chores," Asdras added with a chuckle.

The farmer's laughter echoed in the morning breeze, his cheerful jests trailing off as the friends walked toward the river.

When they reached the riverbank, Asdras hesitated, cautiously testing the water with his toe and grimacing at the chill.

"By the saints, it's freezing!" Asdras said.

Brian shrugged and plunged headfirst into the frigid waters, emerging with an exuberant laugh. "A little cold never hurts anyone!"

Asdras, though initially hesitant, soon joined Brian in the cold waters, scrubbing himself quickly. Brian took his time, washing away the weariness of the night before. The faint scratches on their nails left thin marks on their skin.

"I could eat a cow now!" Asdras said, patting his belly jokingly.

Brian chuckled and clapped Asdras on the back. "Let's hope the pub serves a feast fit for two hungry lads like us!"

They pushed open the creaking wooden door to the pub, and a rich, familiar aroma enveloped them. The hearty scent of sizzling pork fat, warm bread, and the hum of conversation filled the air.

The pub's interior was well-worn and rugged, with old tables and chairs marked by countless rings from mugs and tankards.

A narrow balcony overlooked the main area, scattered with bundles of paper, bottles of ale, herbs, and well-folded cloths.

A bell dangled above the balcony, a simple iron contraption that Asdras couldn't resist. He slapped it, and the clear sound echoed through the pub, drawing a grin from him.

There was a thump in the back, and Narder came through the curtains leading to the kitchen. He was a substantial man with a long, bushy beard flowing like a waterfall from his chin. Narder's simple clothing was clean and crisp: light trousers, leather shoes, and a white cotton shirt with sleeves rolled up to reveal his thick forearms.

"Boys," he said with a patient smile. "Did you come just to play, or is there something else?"

Brian and Asdras approached the counter, grinning as they greeted him.

"Mornin', Narder! We're starvin' for some coffee," Brian said, his voice filled with mock desperation.

"Coffee break was an hour ago, boys," he grumbled, crossing his arms. "You know the deal. You can have breakfast, but you'll be washing dishes after."

"Alright, Narder, you drive a hard bargain," Asdras chuckled.

Narder went to work, moving behind the counter with practiced efficiency. He sliced thick pieces of bread, added two strips of smoky bacon, and placed a generous slab of ham on each plate. Then, with a flourish, he poured fresh water into their mugs.

Brian and Asdras soon sat at a table, devouring their breakfast.

Father Joe entered the pub, spotted the boys, and made his way to their table. He greeted them with a warm smile and pulled up a chair to join them.

As they continued to eat, Joe observed them quietly, his gaze a mix of fondness and concern. Their initial hunger faded, replaced by the discomfort of being watched. Both boys paused and glanced at Father Joe.

Brian had crumbs of bread around his mouth, and Asdras sipped water, his throat parched. Their questioning gazes converged on Father Joe, and they asked if something was on his mind.

"I have news, boys," Joe said, leaning forward slightly. "After your coffee, you two will be traveling to the city."

"Today?" Asdras asked, almost choking.

Brian's face showed a mix of excitement and concern. Leaving the village was a significant step, and he felt a surge of emotions at the prospect.

Joe chuckled, breaking the tension. "It's not as if you were born here, boys. The opportunity you've been waiting for is here. In two weeks, you can enroll in the Academy or the Military. It's time to take that step forward in life."

"That's true," Brian sighed. "I still recall the day we landed here, felt like a world away from home, way out in the boonies.."

"And you held your tongue for three weeks," Joe chuckled, tapping his finger on the table. "Because you were mad at me for picking you back then. But look at you now, can't stop talking!"

"Cut off, pfft," Brian mumbled with his mouth full, hastily chewing a piece of bacon. "Back then, I was just a kid."

"You're not an adult now, Brian," Asdras said, winking at Joe.

"You!" Brian exclaimed, pointing at Asdras and Joe, eyes wide, with a mouthful of food. "Both of you against me? That's hardly fair!"

"Manners, lad," Joe said, gently tapping Brian's head. "Eat first, then talk."

As their conversation tapered off, Brian and Asdras finished their meal, leaving behind clean plates. As they rose and headed to the pub's exit, Joe's voice halted them. "Don't forget to gather your things. I'll be waiting at the village entrance with Raffin."

Asdras sat on the edge of his bed, carefully packing his belongings into his backpack. He folded a piece of cloth, pausing to recall the day he arrived at the church, a memory filled with gratitude for Joe and Brian.

He gingerly placed his broken lute into the bag. Warm light from the window highlighted the instrument's details as he tried to recall memories of his past, but they remained elusive. With a sigh, he finished packing and glanced at his friend.

Brian was also packing his things. He neatly folded a piece of clothing and added an old book to his bag titled "The Spells of the City — How to Charm a Lady with Spoken Words: A Guide for Newcomers to Formal Language."

"Still reading it?"

"With words as honeyed as these, sir, you'd surely win any noble maiden's favor," Brian paused for effect. "Good, right?"

"Sure is," Asdras said, avoiding his gaze.

Brian finished packing and gazed at the last item in his hand, a silver-plated necklace with the letters "Crystallos."

Asdras, sensing Brian's shift in mood, tapped his shoulder and smiled. "Let's go."

After finishing packing, they went to the village entrance, where Joe and Raffin waited by an old wagon. The wagon was weathered, with a brown-haired horse harnessed to it and bags of supplies neatly arranged inside. A purplish herb adorned the wagon's beam.

Curious, Asdras pointed at the herbs and asked Raffin.

With a warm smile, Raffin explained, "Ah, those are a traditional superstition among travelers in the North. It's called Lillian, believed to protect travelers from evil. Legend says the empress Lillian swore to safeguard travelers in her final words."

Asdras nodded. "That's fascinating. It's always interesting to learn about these traditions."

Brian, intrigued, chimed in, "I wonder if it really works. Either way, it's a nice touch."

Joe called Asdras and Brian over, his weathered hands holding two items. He handed Asdras a steel sword with a slight pattern etched into the blade's edges and a faint yellow church cross on the hilt, symbolizing faith and protection. Asdras marveled at the sword's simple elegance, its weight reassuring in his hand.

"Oh!" Asdras' eyes glinted as he examined the details. "Thank you, Joe!"

Joe presented Brian with a retractable spear. When compacted, it resembled a dagger, but with a quick flick of the wrist, it extended to a standard spear.

Brian admired the spear's ingenuity and practicality, making it ideal for a traveler.

Joe gave his final blessings, his voice heavy with hope and wishes. "May you find success and fulfillment on your journey, my sons. Remember, you carry the spirit of this village with you."

Brian tightened his grip on the spear and looked earnestly at Joe. "Promise me you won't leave this world before I get back. Wait for me to graduate and return, so you can tell me the story of my mother!"

Joe chuckled, his eyes twinkling with warmth. "You have my word, boy. But you better graduate in the first batch. I'm not getting any younger."

Brian grinned, his determination renewed. "Deal. I'll make sure of it."

"Raffin," Joe said, smiling. "I'm counting on you, son. May the blessings of Saint Rose guide your journey."

"It's a deal!"