Greenvale

“There, there,” said Sybille. “Hold it steady!”

I held open my hand above the bonfire. Sybille picked up a large egg off from the ground, smacked it against my thumb, and let its contents pour into my palm. It did not take long for it to start fizzling with bubbles.

“It worked, it worked!” said Sybille.

“Are you sure this is sanitary?” I asked her. “I use these hands to kill monsters.”

“That is why I washed your hands first, remember?” she said. “Ah, it smells so good! I can’t wait to try it!”

She picked at the white edge of the egg but bounced back upon touching my hand.

“Ouch!” she yelped.

“At least wait for it to be finished cooking,” I said.

“I know…”

She sucked at her burnt finger, probably rethinking her life choices.

“This is a pretty big egg,” I said. “Where did you even get it?”

“Oh, I found it lying around by the river!” she said. “It is a goose egg, I think.”

“Ah. Poor mamma goose.”

“What? Oh, no, no! I made sure it didn’t have a chick first. Besides, it wasn’t in a nest, so the mother probably just tossed it out and left.”

“I see. Did it follow you?”

Sybille tilted her head.

“Who?”

“The goose. They are territorial.”

“Oh, no, no! I made sure no one was following me. At times like this… we can’t… slip up…”

She was salivating over the egg in my hand. Just how hungry was she, anyway?

“I think it is done,” I said.

“Time to try!”

She took out a fork and stuck it into the egg, and twirled, using the edge as a makeshift knife to break off a chunk, and brought that one into her mouth.

“Sho gud!” she smiled.

“Do not talk with your mouth full,” I said.

A noise rustled from among the bushes. 

Sybille gulped down what she had on her mouth, picked up her staff, and stood up. She aimed her staff at whatever was lurking near...

A goose. It was a goose. It stepped out from the bushes and stared down at us with its deep, black eyes.

“Oh, just a birdie,” said Sybille. “Come here, birdie, psst, psst!”

“It’s not a cat,” I said. “Also…”

Its head was low, and neck stretched out. The goose stepped closer to us, giving a subtle flapping of its wings…

“Its about to attack,” I said.

“How do you know?” said Sybille.

The goose flew towards us.

“HONK! HONK!” it went.

“Wah!” Sybille screamed.

The goose jumped to Sybille, pulling at her hair, and honking all the way.

“I told you so,” I said.

“Why is it doing this?!” Sybille yelled, trying to pry the goose off her face.

“You stepped on its territory. Now it wants revenge.”

“Get… off me!”

Sybille cast a small wind spell, forcing the goose away.

“HONK HONK!”

Then, it landed on my face.

“Guh!” I groaned. I instinctively tried to reach it with my hand, and slipped down the egg on my hand by accident.

Sybille screeched.

“My egg!” she said. “Why did you do that?!”

“This… bird!” I tried to explain.

At least she stopped me before I grabbed the goose. My hot hand would have hurt it. I did not want that.

“Get of me!” I said, struggling against the ceaseless smacking of its wings.

I slid my spare hand down the goose’s belly, then forced it away.

Unhappy about its eviction, however, the goose left a certain mark on my face. 

“My breakfast…!” Sybille lamented.

She went on all her fours, picking at the dirt-stained egg on the ground.

“HONK HONK HONK!”

The goose, relentless as ever, pulled at her hair as she wept.

***

Going back to the Kingdom of Akhronna was no longer an option. It was only a matter of time before Master Croghan figured out what Sybille had done and then send word all across the country with a bounty on our heads. Staying in the Ranolkian Empire was not a good idea either. I did, after all, cause one of their fortresses to fall.

What remained viable, then, was a neutral country to the west. It was the Kingdom of Holy Brenna.

From what Sybille told me, it was a relatively small, but healthy kingdom. It was protected by mountains and had well over a million people. Although there was a long history of distrust with both Akhronna and Ranolkia, the Kingdom of Holy Brenna was not at war with either of them. It remained neutral on their conflict. So, if there was anywhere, we could escape to, that was the place.

Sybille and I marched through the mountains together. The path was narrow, but it was paved. Merchants used this road, after all. We took the horse, the wagon, and what supplies Sybille had managed to stash into it.

It took us practically from dawn to dusk, but just as we reached sunset…

“There is is…” said Sybille. “The Kingdom of Holy Brenna.”

It was a radiant vista of green, adorned with the orange tinge of the falling sun. From the mountainside where we stood, we caught the sight of cities and towns sprawling across the wide fields, and to the distant horizon, the sea.

“It is beautiful,” I said.

“Yes,” said Sybille. “It is. Shall we go?”

***

The first place we found by the border road was a quaint little village right between two mountain ranges. The place probably just had a few hundred in population and divided in half by a river. Crossing the field, we approached the central area of the village, where all the buildings were. It was guarded by pike-like fences jutting outwards, meant to fend off monsters.

There was only one entrance to the plaza. It was guarded by a lone old warrior wearing metal armor and a cloak. He was sitting down on a rock, relaxing as he watched the road and ate an apple.

“Visitors,” said the guard. “What is your business in this place?”

“We are looking for shelter!” said Sybille. “And some food too. I’m starving!”

The guard stroked his beard as he looked at Sybille, and then at me.

“You Akhronnans?” he said.

“Yes!” said Sybille. “We have just arrived at the Kingdom of Holy Brenna.”

“Ah. And what brings you to a village like Greenvale?”

“We want to become adventurers!”

The old guard took a bite out of his apple and continued talking despite the food chewing in his mouth.

“And they don’t have any Adventuring Guild in Akhronna?” said the old man.

“Well yes,” said Sybille, “but… uhm…”

I ended up trying to answer for her.

“We had some issues there,” I said. “I hope you do not mind us.”

The old man burst out, dropping his apple to the ground, and performing religious gestures on his chest.

“By Iona’s holy... it talked!” he said.

Oh.

“Ah!” said Sybille. “This uhm, this is my friend, you see? He has something of a skin condition. It makes him look like a rock.”

“That ain’t no skin condition, ma’am,” said the guard. “Your friend has a curse. A nasty one at that.”

“It’s okay!” insisted Sybille. “Uhm, how to explain it…”

I came up with an idea.

“She created me,” I said. “I am just her golem, nothing more.”

“Bastion…?”

The guard scratched his chin.

“You are more talkative than any golem I’ve met,” said the guard, “and I’ve met my fair share.”

“How many?” I asked.

“Two,” said the guard. “They were guarding some doors and asking strange riddles. In the end we just killed them both and sold their bits. Ah, good times. Reynald, Vincent, and that snobby son-of-a-noble Heath, young times. It was then that…”

The guard rocked back and forth on his seat. There he caught us for hours, making us listen to his life’s story. He used to be an adventurer, from what he told us. After talking to us there for a good while, though, he eventually fell asleep and took his nap right there and then.

So, we both entered the village.

“We survived…” muttered Sybille.

“I thought it was an interesting story,” I said. “It is a shame his adventures were cut short by that arrow in the knee.”

Of course he had to become a guard.

“Yeah…” said Sybille. “Now, where is that Guild Hall that he mentioned?”

“There.”

We walked over to a building on the larger side. It had a hanging sign featuring two crossed swords on top of a shield.

In a world full of monsters, adventurers were a necessity. There were jobs like farmer, shoemaker, barber, innkeeper, and right beside them, the humble adventurer. Even a small village had to keep a handful.

“Welcome to the Adventurer’s Guild,” said the receptionist girl, at the far end of the tavern-like building. “How can we help you today?”

There were a couple of adventurers eating and drinking on one of the three tables, but otherwise the place was empty of clientele. Not that it mattered much.

Adventurer’s Guild Halls were some hybrid things. They were taverns, they were inns, and they were administrative places. For a small village like this, it meant it was just about the size of a small restaurant, and had its spaces all cramped as a result, but it was good enough.

“We want to register as adventurers!” said Sybille.

“Of course,” said the receptionist. “I will have to ask some questions.”

“Okay!”

“First, can you read and write?”

“Of course!”

“Good! Well, then… if you would just help me here…”

The receptionist took out a document from a small pile and presented it to Sybille. There she filled out the document, then returned it to the receptionist.

“Done!” said Sybille.

“Thank you, miss,” said the receptionist. “Mr. Tiberius should return shortly from a mission to interview you. If all goes well, the form will be submitted to Lottsbrick City, and you will be issued an Adventurer’s Guild bracelet.”

According to the old timer’s story, the bracelet was an adventurer’s means of identification. In a world with low literacy rates, symbols and emblems were just about the best they had available.

“So, what about my friend here?” said Sybille.

“Your friend…” said the receptionist. “Oh, you mean your golem, miss?”

“My golem…”

She cringed visibly at such notion.

“I’m afraid constructs cannot apply for membership,” she said.

“What?!” said Sybille. “But he wants to be an adventurer! What happens then?”

“If it is your construct, you can bring it along to your missions, but membership proper for them would not be possible.”

“No way…” said Sybille.

“It is okay,” I said. “I can just work through yours.”

The receptionist jolted back.

“Did the golem talk?” she said.

“Yes, he did!” said Sybille. “Bastion’s a person, not just some golem. That is why he deserves membership!”

“I’m sorry,” said the receptionist. “But there is nothing I can do. Even if the construct is well-spoken, it is still a non-sentient being. It cannot…”

The adventurers eating there eyed the two of us with concern.

“He has a soul!” said Sybille. “You can’t…”

The door to the Guild Hall opened.

“I have returned,” said a man.

He was wearing a set of armor, as well as a helmet. He wielded a sword and a shield, and had a cape on his back.

“Lord Tiberius!” said the receptionist.

“Shit, it’s Tiberius!” added the other two adventurers at the hall. They stood up and gave a bow, in gesture of respect.

So that was him.

“The Master of the Hall…” said Sybille, turning towards the man.

Lord Tiberius stepped forward and stopped only a few feet away from me. He was staring at my face through that helmet of his, but even though he was shorter than me, it felt like he was staring me down.

“New applicants?” he said.

“Yes!” said the receptionist. “They want to register the golem as well, but…”

“Very well,” said Lord Tiberius. “Let us take this outside. We will duel, and test on their worth.”