Farmouth

The wooden bed creaked slightly as Sorin moved around, his dark green eyes. His black hair contrasted with the sun beaming into his room.

Three days, that's all I have left in this place.

He stood from his bed onto a wooden floor. The wood was of normal quality like any other acluraria tree; his room had a basic wardrobe, a bathroom, and a kitchen area. It was a pretty good inn, but still compared to having a maid at his stone two-story tower. It lacked the spice.

I really am getting tired of wearing these commoners' clothes; the same pants make me bored just looking at them. But with my hair and eyes changed and the clothing. Not once have I been questioned to be Sorin, and using magic to suppress my magic like the books described makes it seem impossible for me to be a mage from outside.

Walking over to the kitchen area. He takes out a bit of fresh bread and a cup of ulto milk. Both were average commoner food. Hersh bread, grown from thresh wheat, was plentiful in the acluraria where the war hasn't hit; the sunny and overall less rainy weather allows them to blossom. Ulto, on the other hand, was almost a small animal of white fur. It originated from the northern continent of Fahdyot; the fur is also used for higher-tier clothing options that two silver pieces would never afford.

The smell of the bread was nothing, but the milk had a potent awakening smell to it that instantly made Sorin sneeze himself awake before he gulped down the cold milk into his throat, following up with the plain bread.

Walking away from the kitchen area, he took to the door where he leaned his leaning staff near the wall. His inn outside was made of brick and wood. It was like every other commoner house in the city, but this one had five floors and housed over twenty people. It was a truly profitable business.

On the bottom floor, he left the building onto one of the main streets. The village wasn't big, and its design choices made it easy to navigate; it had cross-shaped roads in all four directions and buildings on both sides. Each varied in size. Sorin, however, only moved towards the end of the city.

“Hey mister Hachi! The axe you made has been working great.” A burly man shouted across from a small bar. He had a wide smile as Sorin walked past with a small smile to himself.

The more I really am here, the more it makes me want to stay, three days before the east makes its move here. I'm going to check on the barracks later today. I can't have Vanir shouting at me off in the morning.

As he walked. It only took a minute to reach the end, where he saw a fully bricked smith building. It was of pure stone without wood for obvious reasons. “Finally you're here, Hachi! Get your ass over here and start the fire already.” The man kept using his hammer, striking down a hot piece of metal into the shape of an axe. It was the most demanded good considering that this city had no mages other than Sorin in disguise. They needed wood for building. Heating everything, which is why they even made man-made forests around the village.

Sorin took out his staff, pointing it at the furnace spot underneath where Vanir was hitting. In a mere moment, he instantly set his fire blazing underneath, heating the axe further. A small sweat spot formed on his face.

Trying to use magic with a staff while avoiding the regulation system is harder than I thought. I figured I would learn while working while I still have time, but the staff itself tries to regulate it, so I'm not only fighting that staff but also the flow. I have to find a spot to store my magic, as Ino said.

Sorin focused on his body, the way magic flowed, the way it travelled, and over time, in the span of hours. He kept trying to test each spot to see which felt natural. Vanir never talked to him; they were friends for sure, but Vanir wasn't the type of person to talk during work. Sorin's only job was to heat the furnace underneath, but he was fine with this, as it was two birds with one stone.

The cost of wood steadily rises; it's cheaper to hire him than buy wood for the furnace. Vanir was grateful too, but he wouldn't voice it anyway. Hours passed in silence. Until the sun started to lower, nearly below the horizon line. It was the last day of work for Sorin. He wouldn't tell Vanir, as he would find a way to convince him to stay, but he had to help the daughter's chief tomorrow.

“Thanks for the work, Hachi! You did great today. We got some heavy work done. Tomorrow, do you mind coming in for some extra pay?” Vanir patted his back.

“I can't, I'm helping the chief's daughter. We can next weekend.” That was a full, and Sorin knew, but what else could he do? Vanir just laughed to himself without saying another word and walked off into the village.

He's truly a unique man. Now's the time to check on what's going on in the barracks.

Sorin went into a dash using his wind magic; there was no one around anymore after all, so it took only twenty seconds with the added boost of walking. The barracks of the east were a fresh installment at the other end of town; they made a small shack with sleeping quarters and a little post to keep scouting out. Nobody is allowed near this area.

He jumped into the trees surrounding the village overlooking the post. There was no one stationed, not on the roof. Not around the area, but there was a light inside the base. People were chatting; they all seemed to be either in high spirits or intoxicated.

Sorin rushed down to the side of the post; the building itself was made of steel and straw. It was put up in under a day just for this occasion after all. This meant there were gaps in the walls to peek inside. With the use of his wind magic, he silenced his footsteps, and he felt with his hands for any abnormal walling.

Just a tiny gap… how many are there, what do they have? Could I take them?

He kept searching, then his fingers caught onto something. A hole; he went closer, getting his face right next to it. On the inside, he saw it all. There were around eight people armed with what seemed to be projectile weapons. It had a grip like an axe with a pointed end. There was no projectile… or not even ammunition in sight.

How do those weapons even work?

He kept looking around as the people inside muttered about useless things, relationships, or how the war is going for them. Sorin was mentioned a couple of times, met with laughter; the east wasn't clueless. It didn't bother him, however. His body was frozen in place. There wasn't anything inside, but his sensing magic screamed elsewhere. Someone was behind him.