Chapter 21 : child's request

Briswell, West Geneva.
The courier’s agency hall buzzed with the usual chatter—farmers arguing over prices, merchants haggling for faster deliveries, couriers comparing scars. Amid the noise, a small voice tugged at a man's sleeve.
“Um… Mister Delivery Man?”
A little girl, no older than six, stood clutching a wooden toy soldier. Its paint was chipped, its proportions awkward, but her small hands held it like treasure.
“My papa was taken to fight in the war,” she said. “He forgot his toy. Can you give it to him? If he has it… he’ll come back safe.”
The guild clerk almost laughed, but the healer friend stepped forward, kneeling. She brushed the child’s hair gently.
“We’ll deliver it,” she promised.
The guild clerk scoffed. “That’s no commission, it’s just a child’s game.”
“Where is he stationed?” he asked.
“At Duhleigh ”
The young girl had herself taken to the delivery service. She wrapped her package herself and filled in her details along with her father’s.
“Where’s your mother?”“At home. She doesn’t know I’m here.”“It’s not good to keep things from your parents, you know.”The little girl sighed.“She doesn’t love Dad anymore…”As the girl skipped away, the healer whispered, “Sometimes the smallest deliveries matter most.”
---
The plains of Kestern stretched wide, the path turning rougher as they neared the frontier. The wooden toy soldier bounced in the MC’s satchel, as if reminding him of its importance.
By nightfall, smoke rose in the distance. A group of men blocked the road, ragged and desperate. Their armor bore Ironhold’s insignia—but their faces were hollow with hunger.
“Couriers,” one spat. “You carry food, don’t you?”
“Only a toy.”
They laughed bitterly, closing in. One lunged, but the man infection surged—veins burning, reflexes sharpened. He pushed them back with frightening strength.
One deserter fell hard, clutching his side where old wounds reopened. Blood stained the dirt.
The healer friend knelt, hands glowing faintly, but her curse crawled further up her arm. Black veins laced her skin.
“Don’t,” the man said.
“I can’t just watch someone die,” she snapped, but her voice trembled.
The deserter stared at her with wide, fearful eyes, as if seeing death itself. She pulled back, breath ragged.
They left the deserters behind, the weight of the toy heavier than ever.
---

Duhleigh, West Geneva

After an entire week, they finally arrived in Duhleigh. The roads were swarming with soldiers who kept a close watch on every individual. One could truly feel that a war was brewing.The border fort reeked of sweat and iron. Soldiers sharpened blades, patched armor, and whispered of the desert beyond. Among them stood a man with the same tired eyes as the little girl.
The man approached, pulling the toy soldier from his satchel.“Swift feet, safe hands — your parcel finds its way, mister Kael" the man nods positively " my name is Tharion I'm a courier , and my friend here is my healer, Elyria. Your daughter asked us to bring this.”
The man froze. He reached for it… then stopped, fist trembling.
“She shouldn’t… remember me this way. If I fall, I don’t want her waiting.”
Elyra stepped forward, voice soft. “She doesn’t care about victory or medals. She just wants her father to come home.”
Silence stretched. Finally, the man took the toy, pressing it to his chest. His eyes glistened.
“…Thank you.”
Then, almost in a whisper: “If I don’t return, deliver this back to her.” He slipped his military badge into the Tharion’s hand.
As they left the fort, the healer whispered, “We carry more than packages. We carry people’s hearts.”
He tightened his grip on the badge. For the first time, he realized being a courier wasn’t just about distance—it was about connection.