part 2

It had been around noon when the two of them had set out and was hours passed dusk when they finally arrived at the small village in the valley below his old cottage in the mountains. Days were short this far south and they had only been traveling for about 6 hours. Dusk however last for hours and much of their traveling had been in a twilight glow, their path light by the swirling rainbow of colors that lit up the sky before the moon finally made its appearance.

Although the villagers were used to short days and had to do much of their work during the soft light of dusk, there was little light in the village that wasn’t coming from the glow of hearths. Open flame outside was harshly punished since the entire village, including the 10 foot walls surrounding it, were made of wood.

The wagon trundled up slowly to the gate and a Villager that stood atop the wall called down to them. “Is that you Faral? We were afraid you wouldn’t make it down before full nightfall.” Faral waived and called back a greeting. The wagon still moving at its slow, plodding pace approached the gate, which began swinging outward. Ares thought the villagers a bit paranoid, as the gate began to close before they had even gotten all the way through, clanging shut just a few feet behind the wagon. It wasn’t like a bear was going to charge through right after them, was it?

Although he had not spend a lot of time in the village, Ares was not a complete stranger and little had changed since his visit last fall.

“We’ll have dinner at Marls and can sleep in his hayloft, then we’ll be setting off to Graystown first thing in the morning. If the weather holds we’ll be there in a little over a week.” 

“A week?” Ares asked, startled at how long it would take. “Is that the nearest village?”

“Nae boy!” Faral cackled, enjoying being able to cure Ares of his Ignorence. “ It’s a proper town it is, not a little village like this! More people in Graystown than a country lad like you can imagine, living your entire life up in that shack in the mountains with your granpa.” He shook his head ruefully at Ares’ misfortune, although Ares did not find his upbringing misfortunate.

Ares knew the village had about a hundred people living here at any one time, although it swelled to almost 200 during the winter when all the trappers and hunters came to escape the winter snows. 100 seemed like plenty, Ares didn’t even know the names of everyone since he and grandpa had never stayed the winter, only coming down to the village a few times a year to trade, and that was mostly as a go between for Baruvius and Galadur, who were afraid the villagers would think they were monsters if they showed up to trade themselves.

Faral continued to regal Ares with how amazed he would be at the sites of a proper town like Graystown. Ares only half listened to the old man. He had been told about the great cities of the north where his grandfather had grown up, like Ranthanon, the holy city of Dion, that had spires that reached up almost to the clouds, or Verador, that spread out across the vast valley it was in and took hours to walk from the gates to the palace. There was also of course, the Crimson stronghold. It was not a great city but grandfather said it housed thousands of servants and craftsmen in addition to the knights. Its blood red walls towered into the sky as high one of the great trees of the forest,

It did not take long to get to Marls. Ares took care of Farals mules while he went in out of the cold night to negotiate dinner and a place to sleep. Even though winter was weeks over, snow was not uncommon even in summer nights and Ares had long since grown accustomed to the frigid weather of his home. He only donned proper winter clothes in the dead of winter when snow drifts could tower twice as tall as him and trees were known to burst from being frozen inside.

Faral chatted with Marl about the village, the weather and other things Ares found rather boring. Although he had lived nearby his entire life, the life of a villager was rather alien to him. He had grown up learning swordsmanship, hunting and survival. His cottage did not have walls around it like this forest did. Since he was 8 summers old, if a bear or wolves came it was Ares’ job to defend their cottage, and then they ate well for weeks, after a few years though the creatures of the forest had learned to never venture near.

In the morning they did not linger. Faral had already done all his trading before picking up Ares and was eager to get on his way. His wagon was not full by any means, he brought a lot to the village they could not make themselves and left with animal pelts that would be worth a lot to the townspeople who would not believe that animals could grow to the size they did in far wilderness.

They did not even stop to eat breakfast, leaving in the twilight of predawn and eating as they road. Although eager to see this Graystown Faral talked so grandly about, Ares curbed his enthusiasm. For the first few hours Ares sat and listened to Faral talk about his travels but soon restlessness built up in him and he hoped off the wagon. Faral protested at first but Ares could walk far faster than the mules and had spent years hunting in the mountains, where he walked and even ran through the dangerous mountain terrain, keeping up with his giant mentors for hours and sometimes even days if their quarry was particularly stubborn. 

For the rest of the journey Ares would ride for a few hours in the morning, listening to Faral. He remembered Faral was supposed to teach him about towns and cities and had many questions to ask. Faral taught him how money worked, a concept new to Ares since he had always just bartered for goods. He learned about inns and taverns where you could purchase food, drink and even a place to sleep, as well as stores where you could buy all sorts of things, clothes, shoes or even weapons. Ares had traded furs and wild herbs for his current clothes and boots so the idea of purchasing goods was not alien to him, but thinking of all of those things in a single store where you could just walk in and buy it was definitely odd.

After his lessons in the morning, Ares would run out into the surrounding forest to hunt. At first Faral was worried about him getting attacked or lost, until Ares brought back a great hunting cat that was easily as big as Ares himself and tossed it up the wagon. Faral asked about how it was killed since there was not a mark on it and Ares explained that if you strike one just right at the base of the skull, you can kill it easily without a sword. Faral gaped at him for a bit and then decided to let it go. The boy had grown up in the mountains after all, he obviously could take care of himself. 

They ate cat for meals until finally reaching Graystown.