At this point, I have stopped asking questions.
This decision has improved my quality of life considerably.
For approximately fifteen days, Ryn has somehow arranged free meals.
Free rooms.
Comfortable rooms.
Suspiciously comfortable rooms.
The kind of rooms merchants normally describe using words like investment.
Or opportunity.
Or operational expense.
I no longer investigate.
I simply enjoy the pillows.
Today we arrived at another inn.
Royal Palace Inn.
The name sounded exaggerated.
Then I saw the building.
Apparently it was not exaggerated enough.
The common room alone was larger than some village halls.
The furniture looked expensive.
The staff looked efficient.
And every available room had already been booked weeks in advance.
According to Ryn, accommodations become increasingly difficult to secure the closer one gets to Dunskar.
At this point, half the continent appears to be traveling in the same direction.
Personally, I remain uncertain whether everyone is attending an auction or preparing for a small war.
This morning, Ryn asked to see my White Fox Mask.
A surprising request.
I assumed she had lost interest in it months ago.
Still, I handed it over without hesitation.
She examined it carefully.
Turned it over.
Studied the details.
Then asked a strange question.
"Does it bother you when someone else touches it, Miss DeLuna?"
I blinked.
"No."
She nodded.
Then asked another.
"What about wearing it?"
Again, I answered honestly.
"It feels like a normal mask."
Ryn nodded once more.
Then left.
That was the entire conversation.
I remained seated for several moments afterward.
Holding absolutely no additional information.
Sometimes speaking with Ryn feels like discovering the middle chapter of a book without access to the beginning or ending.
The rumors continue evolving.
Or perhaps mutating.
That may be a more accurate description.
The artifact sought by the Caravan Master has apparently gained several new abilities.
According to current rumors, it can change lives.
Command armies.
Reveal hidden truths.
Possibly alter the future.
One merchant insisted it once belonged to a goddess of beauty and fertility.
Another claimed it originated from the Isle of Gods.
A third confidently agreed despite contradicting himself three times within the same conversation.
Meanwhile, the mysterious princess accompanying the Caravan Master has become even less believable.
According to one rumor, she serves the First Veil directly.
I nearly laughed.
Humans invent the strangest stories.
First Veil is terrifying.
The idea of her working alongside humans sounds absurd.
I met her only once.
The experience ended with me becoming her Chronicler.
And spending a considerable amount of time questioning reality afterward.
If someone claimed they regularly worked with her, I would assume they were hallucinating.
Strangely enough, Ryn appeared quite pleased when she heard this particular rumor.
I did not ask why.
Experience suggests I would regret the answer.
Later in the afternoon, I asked Old Shard about Uncle Kael.
This turned out to be a mistake.
Or perhaps a success.
I still cannot tell.
According to Old Shard, they first met him in the southern straits.
At the time, he was a military cadet.
And trapped in troll territory.
Apparently some sort of operation had gone disastrously wrong.
When they found him, he was the only survivor.
I felt immediate sympathy.
Then Old Shard continued.
"He was punching trolls."
I stopped writing.
Looked up.
Then looked back down.
"Punching?"
"Punching."
"With his fists?"
"With his fists."
I stared at him.
Old Shard stared back.
Neither of us moved.
Eventually I continued writing.
Sometimes accepting information is easier than fighting it.
According to Old Shard, the Caravan Master helped him escape.
Then brought him toward Dravenholt Fort to report the failed operation.
Though apparently every troll involved died.
Which raised some uncertainty regarding whether the mission had technically failed.
Old Shard described Kael as impossible.
According to him, calling Kael fat resulted in violence.
Calling Kael handsome also resulted in violence.
Disagreeing with him resulted in violence.
Agreeing with him occasionally resulted in violence.
At one point an Orc matchmaking wrestling event required additional participants.
Kael entered.
And won.
I accepted this information without comment.
The alternative seemed exhausting.
What truly challenged my faith in reality, however, came later.
During one journey, the Caravan Master apparently fell asleep while driving a wagon.
The wagon entered the ocean.
This somehow led to a confrontation with a young leviathan.
The Caravan Master cannot swim.
This detail pleased Old Shard greatly.
He repeated it several times.
The rescue operation quickly became complicated.
Mostly because Kael attempted to save Sondre.
And somehow ended up wrestling the leviathan.
Barehanded.
According to Old Shard, the leviathan died.
From being strangled.
I spent several moments considering whether Old Shard had secretly started drinking during daylight hours.
Unfortunately, he had not.
The conversation somehow became stranger.
Because eventually they reached Dravenholt Fort.
Where Kael was greeted by a young woman.
Small.
Beautiful.
Polite.
Soft-spoken.
Warm smile.
Everything one might expect from a proper noble lady.
According to Old Shard, she approached Kael.
Sat on him.
And began punching him repeatedly.
Apparently because he had worried her.
The woman in question was Sera.
I accepted this information immediately.
For reasons I cannot explain.
Old Shard claimed this was likely the exact moment Master Roderick fell in love.
Again—
I accepted this information immediately.
For reasons I also cannot explain.
At this point I have heard enough stories about the older generation to realize something important.
They sound less like legendary figures.
And more like a collection of disasters somehow keeping each other alive.
The Caravan Master continues becoming more mysterious.
The rumors continue becoming more absurd.
The artifact continues becoming more powerful.
The princess continues becoming less believable.
And every story Old Shard tells somehow makes the previous story sound reasonable by comparison.
Dunskar grows closer every day.
I suspect answers are waiting there.
Though based on current evidence—
The answers may prove even stranger than the rumors. 🌙
Komentar
Posting Komentar