The Traveler
Joseph trudged onward, heading east with no destination in mind.
Days had passed since he'd parted ways with the priest, and he hadn't crossed paths with a single living soul. Not a person — not even a beast. It was enough to bore a man to tears.
I suppose this is what travel is usually like.
In this world, most people never left the village they were born in. Crossing paths with anyone in the middle of a lonely road was anything but common — which meant that stumbling across bandits by chance, on land this vast, wasn't easy either. Of course, if you did meet them even once, that single encounter could be a one-way trip to the afterlife.
I'm exhausted...
That said, Joseph was thoroughly worn down by a journey he was making alone, through country he'd never seen. The stone-studded path chewed at the soles of his feet, and his crude leather shoes trapped sweat until he had to air them out at regular intervals. At night he couldn't risk a fire, not while he still had to keep watch, and meals were nothing but dried meat and a splash of liquor. Sleeping on bare stone was its own special misery; there wasn't a spot on his body that didn't ache.
At this rate I'll collapse before I even reach a city.
He decided that the moment he found a village, he would stop there and rest. And I need information, whatever I can get...
Meeting that priest had driven the point home. He knew far less about this world than he'd imagined. If he walked into a city carrying an orb that leaked Divinity the way the priest had described...
Whatever happened, it wouldn't have been pretty.
Turning that over in his mind, he crested a densely wooded pass — and a wide plain unfolded before him.
"Oh..."
Far in the distance, a small village strung itself along the road. A crude palisade ringed the outskirts with a certain stubborn dignity. Beyond it lay small fields and livestock, and farther still, a handful of houses large enough to catch the eye. It was no city, but it was a good deal bigger than Bari Village, that mountain-slope backwater.
This place actually looks livable.
It was a thought he'd never had in Bari Village, where tomorrow's survival had been the only thing on anyone's mind.
As he drew near the palisade, two men with spears came into view, approaching from a distance.
Guards...?
Calling them "guards" was generous. They were just men standing around holding spears. Even so, this was the first time Joseph had encountered anything of the sort in this world. A place as small as Bari Village had, at most, someone watching a lookout post.
"Who goes there? Identify yourself."
One of the pair raked Joseph from head to toe with a sharp look, then glanced back the way he'd come. The edge in the man's voice made Joseph flinch, but he shook it off a moment later.
This is normal.
An unfamiliar outsider was, of course, someone to be wary of. In a world like this, a stranger's visit was rarely welcome news — and if that stranger was traveling alone...
They'll figure I'm trouble.
He might have caused an incident. He might have been driven out of whatever village he'd come from. There was no other good reason for a man to be walking these roads by himself, and from their point of view, caution was the only sensible response.
I walked out on my own two feet, thanks.
Joseph didn't consider himself that sort of person, so he didn't tense up over it. He dipped his head slightly and spoke in a level voice.
"I'm a mage, just passing through."
"A mage?!"
From what Joseph had gathered, mages commanded considerable status in this world. Learning magic required inborn talent, and ordinary people could go their whole lives without ever meeting one. Sure enough, both guards visibly flinched when he named himself. They traded uneasy glances, apparently unsure how to respond.
"How are we supposed to—"
"—Hey. Shut it."
The one with the shaved head had started to say something, only to take an elbow in the ribs from his companion. His eyes had been fixed on Joseph's clothes.
Ah. Right.
Joseph understood what the man had been about to point out. He was wearing tattered clothes under a battered leather jerkin. At a generous estimate, he looked like a down-at-heel mercenary. Hardly the picture of a mage.
He formed a small Mana Orb and set it floating in the air. Their eyes went wide.
"...M-Master Mage, what business brings you here?"
The long-haired one stammered, his tone shifting all at once. The voice that had been so sharp a moment ago was now wound tight with nerves. Mages, after all, were said to be uniformly high-strung and authoritarian, and neither of them wanted to give offense.
"I'm merely passing through. But if possible, I'd like to stay in this village for a few days."
Joseph kept his voice as mild as he could. The two of them glanced at each other again, and the long-haired one spoke up.
"There's an inn in the village."
"An inn?"
Color rose in Joseph's face at a word that sounded almost civilized. This place was better appointed than he'd expected. The long-haired guard, not content with that, went on to give him detailed directions.
"...Head right from there and keep going. You'll find it toward the center of the village."
Joseph bobbed his head and walked past them. They stood there with awkward expressions and said nothing more until he was well out of earshot.
That worked better than I expected.
He'd only wanted to keep the guards from brushing him off. The effect had been far beyond anything he'd imagined. When I need to, I should just come out and say I'm a mage.
Farther in, the village itself came into view. The houses weren't so different in shape from those in Bari Village, but they were considerably cleaner. Nothing here was on the verge of collapse, the way his old house had been.
As he walked toward the inn the guards had described, villagers glanced his way now and then. Their eyes held the usual mix of curiosity and wariness toward an outsider, but no one came over to speak to him.
Doesn't matter.
Near the village outskirts, a weathered little signboard came into view, lettered with almost comical honesty — and the building behind it was two stories, a rare sight in itself.
My first inn.
Bari Village had been too much of a backwater to have anything of the kind. The occasional outsider of any importance stayed at the village chief's house; anyone else slept rough in an empty shack on the outskirts. A proper inn with a sign hanging out front was a novelty to Joseph.
The door creaked open, and the smell of cooking rolled out to meet him. Off to one side, a handful of men were killing time over food and drink. Joseph gave their clothes a discreet once-over. The ones in worn but serviceable cloth armor were plainly not villagers.
"Doesn't look like a traveler... new mercenary, then?"
A bald, middle-aged man stirring a pot of stew behind a long table had taken one look at Joseph's appearance and spoken up. The innkeeper, by the looks of it.
"I'm not a mercenary. Just looking to stay a few days."
Unlike at the gate, Joseph did not introduce himself as a mage. There was no need to go advertising it in a village he'd only be passing through.
"You said 'new mercenary,' though. Are there a lot of mercenaries in this village?"
He asked it lightly as he sat down. This was unfamiliar ground, and caution came naturally.
The innkeeper shook his head and pointed toward a cluster of men drinking in the corner.
"Not really. Just that more of 'em have been showing up lately, chasing rumors. Like those lot over there."
"Rumors...?"
The innkeeper's eyebrow climbed at that.
"You don't know much about these parts, do you?"
"No. I've been on the road for quite a while..."
"Came from far off, then. Where from?"
"West, I suppose."
"West? Pierre Domain? With those bandit gangs settled in over there, we haven't had anyone coming from that direction in a while."
"Ah — a bit farther than that."
Joseph kept the fact that he was from Bari Village to himself.
"Farther west than Pierre Domain... well, no wonder you wouldn't know."
The innkeeper nodded, as if he'd decided not to press. It had the practiced ease of a man who'd been receiving travelers for a long time.
"Every last one of the lot coming here these days is looking to get hired for the war up north and make a killing."
"A war?"
"That's right. Don't know the details, but the local lord — Count Valois — had a falling-out with Count Poner up north, and they've been at it for over a year. Word is you can make a fortune if you throw yourself onto the battlefield."
"Huh..."
The news drove home, all over again, just how small a hole Joseph had been living in. A war... Back in Bari Village, whether he'd catch any meat that day had been one of the great questions of his life.
"What, you interested?"
"No. I was just a bit surprised to hear there's a war going on."
Joseph, of course, had not the slightest intention of throwing himself into a deathtrap. He'd only just crawled out of the muck — he wasn't about to go leaping onto a battlefield where people got killed for a living.
He asked something else instead.
"Are there mages on the battlefield, by any chance?"
"Mages? Why are you looking for those?"
"Just curious. There weren't any where I used to live."
Joseph's dream was to master magic and win himself a comfortable life. But he still didn't know, precisely, how mages were regarded in this world. All he had to go on were scraps of conversation from Bari Village's chief and the merchants, and the way those two guards had just reacted. How well were mages treated? How high could they rise? And where did that put him, right now? He needed to figure that out as soon as possible — and if the prospects looked too grim, start thinking about another way to survive.
"Well, I heard there's a fire mage on the battlefield."
"A fire mage?"
"That's right. Apparently backed by Count Poner."
A count's patronage!
Joseph swallowed. A mage who'd made it could receive the backing of a noble. For someone from the very bottom, like him, even the idea had been unthinkable. If I succeed, that's the kind of standing I could have. A mage important enough to have a count behind him would find becoming a village notable easier than breathing. It meant a straight climb from the gutter to a luxury penthouse.
He felt, with sudden clarity, that choosing to become a mage had not been a mistake.
"Is he really that formidable?"
"From what I hear, he can rain fire from the sky, or spark a blaze the size of a forest fire out of thin air. Whether that's actually true, I couldn't say."
"That's certainly extraordinary."
At the same time, it gave him a sense of how far a capable mage could go. If the innkeeper was right, a single mage might be able to sweep an army off the field.
"And Count Valois is somehow holding his own against a mage like that."
"Well — Count Valois has a number of knights under him."
"Knights..."
Joseph had no trouble accepting that. A knight was the sort of existence you lost your head for crossing, if you weren't careful. One knight against ten mercenaries was the baseline; depending on the man, some were said to cut down dozens on their own.
Count Poner in the north, with his fire mage. Count Valois here, with his knights at the fore. They were fighting harder than Joseph would have guessed.
"What's the reason they're going to war with mages and knights and all?"
"Couldn't tell you. All I know is what the mercenaries go on about."
The innkeeper shrugged and closed his mouth. He didn't seem inclined to say anything more about the why of it.
Fair enough. Say the wrong thing and you could end up hanging for it.
Joseph nodded, more or less satisfied. It wasn't as though he was curious enough to go digging.
He ate the thick, flavorless stew the innkeeper had brought him and turned the conversation over in his mind. A fire mage... That, in particular, had been unexpected. Joseph had never seen a mage other than himself. The fanatic priest had demonstrated Holy Magic, but that had seemed like something else entirely. In that light, the existence of a mage who'd actually made it was more than enough to catch his interest.
Not that I'm about to go to a battlefield for it.
He wanted to see the fire mage, yes. Throwing himself onto a battlefield to do it would be insane. He wasn't even at a level where he could call himself a mage with a straight face, and he doubted he'd find the man easily just by showing up. If anything went wrong, the whole plan would fall apart.
His original goal had been to settle in a proper city and find new magic books. Changing course north — onto a battlefield, no less — carried far too much risk.
This is still a time for growth.
He didn't know enough, and he didn't have enough, to step onto a stage as large as a territorial war. He had no intention of becoming the kind of fool who threw his life away for a moment's craving. He'd rest here for a while, then leave for a larger city in search of magic books. That would be enough.
The door creaked open.
Someone came in, and every eye in the room drifted toward the entrance. The man was dressed much like the drinkers in the corner — though a closer look showed his armor was of slightly better quality. He stood in the doorway and swept the room once, slowly.
"Is the person who arrived in this village a short while ago here?"
Every gaze in the inn turned, quite naturally, toward Joseph. He realized a beat late that the man was talking about him.
Hm?
The stranger came straight over. There was something oddly careful in the way he carried himself.
"Would you happen to be the mage who entered the village today?"
He asked it with a cautious bow at the waist.
"The head of the Roph Merchant Guild, Master Seymo, requests an audience with you."