Adventurer
The late-evening streets of the capital thronged with people.
It was a sight I had never seen in the countryside. Back in the village, sunset meant sleep—but here the roads blazed with bright lights that never seemed to dim.
"Whoa..."
I was still turning in a slow circle, pouring out soft gasps of wonder, when Sinel swung a huge bag onto her shoulder and leapt down from the carriage. The sudden motion made me jump; she only grinned up at me.
"See you next time!"
With that farewell she was already walking away. I glanced at Ned, still seated on the driver's bench, half-worried that she was simply vanishing into the crowd. He looked used to it; without a word he lifted a hand and waved her off.
His gaze slid from Sinel's retreating back to me.
"Didn't you have business of your own?"
"Ah."
Only then did I remember why I had come to the capital at all. The short journey with these people had almost made me forget my purpose.
I began gathering my things so I could climb down. Ned spoke again.
"I plan to leave the city in three days and head home. If you want to ride with us, come find me at the place where the wind rests."
Having said his piece, he turned away and settled back into his seat.
I did not have much to pack: a thick fur coat, the wolf-fur hood to wear over it, a bag stuffed with jerky, and the heavy iron sword I slung across my back. The leather pouch of coins I tied securely at my waist.
"Take care."
Philip offered the quiet farewell after looking me over. I only nodded and jumped down from the carriage.
Ned's wagon never fully stopped; it rolled on at a gentle pace. Partings like this must have been ordinary for them. An odd, hollow feeling settled in my chest as I watched the carriage dwindle into the distance.
I could not afford to stand there forever. Shaking my head, I set off.
No parent would sit still after a daughter left nothing but a single scrap of paper and ran away. By now they would have finished combing the neighboring village for any trace of me.
I headed for the travelers' quarter where the inns clustered together. The constant flow of people meant the street was lined with stalls selling almost everything imaginable—it would have been faster to list what they did not sell.
I made for a stall tucked into a corner. Its owner was a middle-aged woman whose hair was a startling mix of red, blue, yellow, and brown—colors that could never have grown that way naturally. She sold dyes.
"Oh, looking to dye your hair?"
She smiled as I approached and held out a small wooden board. Thin swatches of every shade were painted across it, clearly meant for choosing a color. I picked the most ordinary brown I could find.
"What a shame... Isn't that natural gold? Such a pretty color..."
She looked genuinely regretful as she studied my hair. I agreed with her, but avoiding my parents' pursuit left me no other choice.
"One silver coin."
It felt a little steep for dye, yet I did not haggle. After paying, I pulled the wolf-fur hood low over my face and walked toward a promising-looking inn.
The place was spotless; whoever ran it clearly took hygiene seriously. The crowded first-floor dining room suggested it was popular as well.
Would there still be a free room?
A price board hung on the wall.
1 night — 2 silver
1 week — 1 gold
Meals were included, of course. I stepped up to the counter, laid down a single gold coin, and said,
"One week."
"Hmm...?"
The clerk peered down at the coin, then craned his neck to look at me standing below the counter. His eyes swept the room once, clearly searching for parents who might have come with me.
"How many of you?"
"Just me."
He tilted his head at my answer, then shrugged as if it made no difference and handed over a heavy key. An old wooden tag dangled from it, marked with the number 302.
Luckily a room remained. I took the key.
"Head up to the third floor and you'll find it. Need a meal?"
"Yes."
"Then unpack and come back down. I'll have your share ready."
I left the noisy first floor behind and climbed the stairs; the clamor faded with every step. The old boards creaked underfoot, and a faint mildew scent mixed with the sharp smell of fresh paint, making my heart beat a little faster.
The hallway itself was clean enough. A modern eye might have found plenty to criticize, but after the standards of a country village it was more than acceptable.
On the third floor a wide corridor stretched ahead. The quiet suggested the walls were well insulated. I stopped at the door marked 302 and slid the key home.
Click.
The door swung open with only a soft sound. I had worried after the creaking stairs, but the hinges had clearly been oiled.
The room was tidy: a bed of decent size covered by a gray blanket that would hide dirt well, and in the corner a small table with a single candle.
There would be a little time before the meal was ready. I set my pack on the table and took out the small bottle I had just bought. A scrap of paper was stuck to it—instructions for the dye.
Wash hair with water, apply the dye, then rinse after one hour.
A whole hour for the color to set. I would have to wait until after dinner.
Iron sword in hand, I left the room and headed back downstairs. The clerk pointed me toward a small table in a quiet corner. A wooden tag marked 302 sat on it—one meal per key, it seemed. I sat down.
The dining room had a pleasant atmosphere. Travelers laughed over their drinks, clearly pleased with the food. While I watched them, a young girl approached carrying a large plate. She froze the moment she saw my face.
I smiled and gave a small wave. She looked about the same age as the children I used to meet in the village.
"Ah—h-here's your meal..."
My smile seemed to snap her out of it. She hurriedly set the plate down, fidgeted with her long apron, and then bolted away.
I picked up my fork and looked at the food: scrambled eggs, a single grilled sausage, and a mound of mashed potatoes. Everything tasted pleasantly salty.
When I finished I returned to the counter and asked for water. The clerk wanted to know what for; I said I wanted to wash my hands and feet, and he nodded.
Back on the third floor I waited, struggling with flint and a small candle, until a knock sounded at the door.
Knock-knock.
"—I brought the water~"
That soft voice belonged to the same girl from downstairs. I set the flint aside.
"Come in."
She waddled through the doorway, arms wrapped around a large wooden bucket. Our eyes met and she startled, taking a quick step back.
Emily's bright looks always drew friendly stares from other children her age. This girl was no exception. Watching me carefully, she set the bucket down beside the bed.
"What's your name?"
"M-me...?"
"Yeah."
She swallowed hard and clutched her apron. Just asking her name had made her so nervous it was almost cute.
"Mary..."
"Mary? How old are you?"
"Thirteen..."
"Wow, same as me."
"R-really...?"
Her face lit up at that. I held out the flint.
"Could you light this for me?"
"O-okay!"
She hurried over and struck a spark until the candle caught.
"Thanks."
A light smile of gratitude made her cheeks flush scarlet.
"Do you know how someone becomes an adventurer?"
Mary nodded. We talked a little after that—mostly me asking questions and her answering. The conversation did not last long; she soon left, saying she had to help with the inn work.
Once she was gone I began dyeing my hair. The smell was foul enough to make me dizzy.
And so my first day in the capital came to an end.
Very early the next morning I packed a light bag, left the room, and went downstairs. The inn staff were already up, tidying the dining room; mornings here must always start early.
"Coming down for breakfast?"
The counter clerk recognized me as I stood looking around at the foot of the stairs. I shook my head; I had no appetite just then.
"I'm heading out for a bit."
"All right. Don't lose that key."
"I won't."
I checked the key in my pocket and stepped outside.
Maps had been posted throughout the city so travelers would not get lost. Thanks to them I reached my destination without a single wrong turn.
The largest street in Niflheim Capital—the Adventurers' Quarter.
Centered on the great Adventurers' Guild, shops selling everything a traveler might need had gathered naturally around it; blacksmiths were easy to find as well.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The ring of hammers on steel already filled the morning air. Adventurers appeared here and there; a few drunks still sprawled on the ground while city guards clicked their tongues at the sight.
I left it all behind and ran toward one particular building. Its large sign bore elegant lettering:
Swordsman Guild
Living in the capital required money. I had the emergency funds I brought from home and the coins the knight had given me, but they would not last forever. I intended to become an adventurer and earn my keep.
Mary had told me the first step was obtaining a proper job plaque that proved real skill. That was why I had come to the Swordsman Guild.
"Snff..."
Standing before the building, I sniffled. The cold kept making my nose run.