Chapter 2: The First Step and the Night of Departure

I slung my backpack over my shoulders, rested a hand on the sword at my waist, and passed through the gates of the regional capital.

The moment I stepped from the familiar cobblestones onto the dirt road, I felt as if the tension had drained from my shoulders.

Any lingering sentiment over losing my position as a guard was swept away by anticipation for the journey ahead.

Just beyond the gate, I spotted a familiar face.

It was Gil, my fellow guard.

He was a little older than me, the dependable older-brother type.

He had a wife and child, and he used to tell me all sorts of stories about the struggles of supporting a family.

“Yo, Ed. I figured I’d come see you off after all.”

“Gil, huh. Sorry to make you come all this way.”

“What’re you saying? It all happened so suddenly. We couldn’t do anything about it. Sorry about that.”

Gil scratched his head awkwardly.

I knew he had been among the guards who protested.

It wasn’t his fault.

It was the decision of the noble who governed the regional capital.

“Don’t worry about it. If anything, I feel freer now that the ties are gone. I’ve been wanting to travel for a while anyway.”

It wasn’t a lie.

It had been my dream since childhood.

If I thought of this as a reset of my relationships, it wasn’t a bad deal.

“Is that so? You’ve always been like that. Hard to tell what you’re thinking, but you take good care of people in your own way. I figured you were someone I could rely on.”

Gil spoke with a hint of sadness.

He probably didn’t know anything about my real abilities, but after working together all these years, it seemed he had at least evaluated me decently.

If that was how he saw me, then hiding my strength had been worth it.

“Oh, and this is from my wife. She said it’s a little farewell gift. Dried fruit, so it’ll keep.”

He handed me a cloth pouch filled with apples, berries, and prunes.

“Guess I made your wife worry too. Sorry, but thanks. This helps.”

“Don’t mention it. I don’t know where you’re headed, but be careful out there. You don’t look as tough as you probably are.”

I gave a wry smile at his words.

Despite appearances, I’d never once fallen seriously ill, and even my injuries had only looked bad because I made sure to “lose” just enough.

In truth, they’d barely been scratches.

But that was a secret.

“Yeah, thanks. You take care of your family too.”

“Yeah. Maybe we’ll run into each other somewhere again someday.”

After a short exchange, we parted ways.

I didn’t look back as I began to walk.

I took a dried apple from the pouch and placed it in my mouth.

It was sweet and tangy, and for some reason, my eyes felt slightly hot.

It tasted like the kindness of a thoughtful wife.

The gates of the regional capital grew more distant behind me.

This was the true beginning.

I opened my notebook and looked at the map I had drawn inside.

Maybe I’d head south for now.

My first destination would be the next post town.

The highway wasn’t paved like the streets inside the capital.

If it rained, it would turn muddy, and dust would surely rise on dry days.

But as a guard, I hadn’t only patrolled the city.

I’d often gone on rounds outside as well, so I was used to roads like this.

The strain on my legs didn’t bother me.

From time to time, I passed people traveling along the road.

A merchant caravan covered with large canvas.

A stagecoach with the crack of the driver’s whip echoing through the air.

Travelers dressed much like myself.

Everyone was heading toward their own destinations.

Walking alone beneath the wide-open sky wasn’t a bad feeling at all.

I wondered what kind of inn I’d stay at tonight.

Would the food be good?

As I walked thinking about such things, time passed in the blink of an eye.

My pace was steady, nothing remarkable.

It wasn’t a hurried journey, so I took my time, admiring the scenery and the flowers blooming by the roadside.

As the sun began to dip, several buildings came into view along the road.

A post town.

Perhaps because it was the closest one to the regional capital, it looked quite lively.

There were many people and carriages, and the place brimmed with activity.

Now then, I needed to find an inn.

I had a fair amount of money, but considering the future, I didn’t want to waste it.

Somewhere affordable and quiet would be best.

Near the entrance of the town, I approached a stagecoach driver waiting for passengers.

“Excuse me, may I ask you something?”

“Sure thing, traveler. What is it?”

“Do you know of any decent, reasonably priced inns around here?”

The driver stroked his chin and gave me the names of several inns.

He even told me about their atmospheres, whether the food was good, and what sort of guests they usually had.

The information was surprisingly detailed.

I headed to one of the inns he recommended, located slightly off the main road.

The exterior was modest, but it had a calm feel to it.

It didn’t seem bad.

I entered the inn and paid for a night’s stay at the counter.

I was shown to a room on the second floor.

It was simple, but clean and well kept.

When I set my backpack down on the floor, it landed with a dull thud.

It felt like the weight of the journey, or perhaps like I had finally set my feet firmly on the ground.

Before I could relax, my stomach growled.

It was already time for dinner.

I headed to the first-floor dining hall, where lively voices echoed.

The dining hall was crowded with drivers, merchants, and other travelers.

When I took a seat, the innkeeper brought me a menu without much expression.

The offerings were standard fare—meat stew, hard bread, bean soup—the sort of dishes you could find anywhere.

It wasn’t much different from what I’d eaten at the guard barracks in the capital.

As long as it tasted good, I had no complaints.

I ordered the stew, bread, and an ale.

Listening to the surrounding chatter, I ate in silence.

I wasn’t fond of noisy places, but it helped that it was lively enough for me to blend in even if I kept to myself.

After finishing my meal, I returned to my room.

Outside the window, it was completely dark, and I could hear someone singing faintly in the distance.

I lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

It was firm, but not bad.

Perhaps because I had walked quite a bit today, my body felt pleasantly tired.

The journey had begun.

Nothing about the future was decided yet, but my curiosity outweighed any anxiety.

Where should I go tomorrow?

What should I do?

As I ran my fingers over the pommel of my sword, I closed my eyes.

The first night of my journey quietly deepened.