"Is that where the village location is?" she wondered as she noticed a cloud of smoke in the distance. "I need to check it out." She hurried as fast as she could, but was astonished and bewildered when she noticed her surroundings begin to move backward.
A brilliant light arose and was absorbed by her former spot. She suddenly realized she had returned to reality, this time in the gloomy attic.
She looked around, retrieved the cursed book, and placed it inside her bag as she slowly regained her calm. With a heavy sigh, she began to stroll down the steps. When she arrived and opened the back door, a cool breeze caressed her skin. "I'm ready," she said, walking to the main road and approaching the city gate.
Her gaze surveyed the city, taking in the grandeur of all the buildings and stores. There is a lot of history behind the people who live here. When they talk about their lives, they make you feel at ease.
When she arrived, she noticed a lot of people coming in and out of the city gate. There wasn't much traffic, so they were mostly guards or individuals.
The entrances were uninspiring. She held her cart and waited patiently in line to exit the city.
"Here she is!" a guy shouted, extending his hand to call out the small girl. "You're the last one to arrive, so move here now," said the guild staff. She drew her cart near the group of mercenaries and adventurers, then parked it next to the other carriage. When everyone had gathered, the older woman in charge gave them a brief instruction. "We will travel to our destination today; it will be a three-day trip."
------
It takes them an hour to prepare before leaving for their destination. "Where is everyone's cart?" the young girl inquired, and everyone around her burst out laughing. "Young lady, we don't have a cart; all of our luggage are inside the carriage," he said, motioning to one of the carriages where he had stored his belongings.
Another guy approached her and said, "Better leave your cart and put your bag inside." He stepped next to her cart and tried to transfer her bag inside, but she abruptly stopped.
"Wait a minute, I don't need a carriage or a horse; I'll just pull my cart," the two guys stop as they exchange glances. "Are you sure?" they inquire. "Yes," she responds.
*****
The young girl sits on her wooden cart, munching broken bread and drinking from a water flask. Her wagon was a rusted wooden wagon with faded paint and rusted iron wheels. She doesn't like the notion of outsiders using it, which is why she doesn't want anybody to pull or touch it. She truly is a possessive individual.
When the caravan stops for a quick lunch break, it's nearly noon. The caravan consists of thirty or more people of varying ages dressed in diverse styles.
Most people appear to be poor, but some appear to be affluent; everyone appears to be carrying survival gear such as weapons, tools, or food, as well as emotional goods such as a handmade doll or torn clothes.
She notices that most individuals are clad in animal and monster skin clothes, and she feels driven to buy one. "All right, break time is over; hurry up!" said the caravan's leader.
Everyone rose up and began to walk in order to resume their journey. They'd been on the road for hours, and the countryside was becoming more unlike what they remembered.
*****
The sun was setting, and it was getting dark. The woods they were passing through were becoming deeper and darker. They had no idea when they'd get to the village ahead of them. They appeared to have traveled a long distance, but the caravan progressed slowly until it reached the edge of the forest.
The caravan leader signs for them to stop, indicating that they will spend the night here before continuing their trek.
'As soon as I hear him make the signal, I realize how fortunate I am that we stopped to rest rather than continuing on into the wilderness.'
'He'd previously been in front, leading us, and now he's just had his back to look through.'
"My stomach is churning, yet I've always like camping. This is taken literally."
"But, right now, the prospect of spending the night sleeping in the woods with no tents and little food and water makes me sick."
"They gave us a day to get ready, but all I did was head up to the attic of the abandoned residence and read the cursed book of a sage, so I'm the one who should take responsibility from the start. I'll just head off to my cart and sleep."
****
There is no moon in the middle of the night, and the only light sources are the bonfire and torches. Creatures began to emerge from the trees, one by one, stealthily circling the caravan. And when they're all in place, a single howl breaks the silence.
As the wolves attacked the caravan, adventurers who were still sleeping awoke and grabbed their weapons in defense. Before the wolves got close to the caravan, the mercenaries took notice of them. Some of them were armed with crossbows, and some of the adventurers moved quickly into position before the wolves pounced.
The wolves had already entered the caravan, and a few had found their way into the wagon. They weren't particularly powerful, but their sharp fangs and claws could dispatch some of the troops.
When the wolves attacked the adventurers, the mercenaries fired their crossbows at them. The wolves would hop around, and the arrows would miss the animals by a wide margin, as if it didn't disturb them.
The couriers would also be unsure where to aim to avoid colliding with other humans, so they would have to keep an eye on everyone. They look pathetic and don't know how to fight at all.
A small child dozed inside her wagon as the conflict went on. She fantasizes about being a hero capable of slaughtering anybody and anywhere she pleases. Unknowingly, a wolf much larger than the others with crimson plumage gazed at her and scented her before disappearing without a trace. It left very little trace of itself.
When she felt a tap on her shoulder, she opened her eyes. The small girl turns to face whoever is attempting to wake her up. Her eyes widened as she noticed three males in front of her cart.
There were four more soldiers waiting behind them, swords drawn and ready to attack. She didn't know why, but as she caught their gazes, their expressions were different from what she expected. The man with red hair smiled evilly, while his buddy had the attitude of a predator looking for prey. They were both wearing crimson-bloodstained armor.
She couldn't move due to the intimidation, and they began to approach and assault her.
That's what she expected—a wolf would charge in and get slashed by one of the mercenaries. When she saw the corpse, she looked around to see what was going on and discovered that they'd been attacked by dire wolves while she was sleeping.
"We've been assaulted, but I didn't hear anything?"
"Are you okay, little brat?" the mercenary said as he searched for the remaining members of the wolf pack.
"I'm fine. Thank you for your assistance," she said, bowing her head. "It's fine; just stay there while we clean up the corpse," he said, turning away from the little girl and approaching the other caravan members to see if there was an issue.
Wait a minute; I can help," she said. "You're just a kid, so stay there," he said, but she insisted, "I can help; I'm a courier, even though I look like this." Looking at her with resolve, he eagerly welcomed her assistance.
She takes on the chore of cleaning and disassembling dire wolf carcasses and storing them inside the wagon. After completing this work, the caravan resumed its journey in order to meet the deadline.
As the sun rose high above, the sky turned a pale lilac color, its reflection rippling through the grassy plains around them. The air was clean and fresh. A pleasant breeze flowed across the ground, the trees swinging in sync with the horses galloping along behind them. Despite this, there was an underlying sense of dread in the air, like fog on the breeze.
It made her skin crawl, and the hairs at the base of her neck stood up. As she continued to walk, a cold raced down her spine. She's gone on lengthy travels before, but none as difficult as this. They'd driven practically constantly for fear of another attack, stopping only at night to recuperate.
She can't recall the last time she slept fully. When had she last had a decent night's sleep? She hadn't even had time to think about taking care of herself in the aftermath of the attack.
She'd been so preoccupied with keeping her pack supplied for their travel that she'd had little time to rest, eat, or sleep. If she'd realized the voyage would be this difficult, she may have thought about bringing some food along with them instead of just water, dry meat, and other necessities.
If nothing else, some crackers or apples from the wagon would have been welcome. She now regrets not bringing something more solid.
And after three days, they arrived at their objective, the city of Malaska.