The moon was up there somewhere. Full, apparently.
Old man Gerard had mentioned it with particular satisfaction a few moments ago, but the clouds had swallowed it whole, and now all we had was rain, darkness, and the distant promise of a roof.
Our carriage rattled and splashed through the downpour as we passed through the town gate.
I peered out through the narrow side opening.
Stone walls rose ten meters on either side, thick and old, the kind you'd built to keep monsters out. The streets inside were empty. Everyone was indoors, behind their shuttered windows, warm and dry.
No street lamps. Just the faint glow bleeding through cracks of closed window shutters, barely enough to see by.
"Where are we?" I asked.
Old man Gerard sat opposite me, rubbing his short white beard.
"Kabel. The small waypoint town that was founded between the cities of Leonis and Enif."
My eyes lit up.
Noticing this, Gerard smiled with gentle helplessness as crow's feet formed at the corners of his eyes.
"We were supposed to be heading straight to Leonis, but the storm had other ideas. It was off route, but it was the closest town, so we'll be staying here for the night. Young Master, it seems you and this town are fated."
I couldn't help but think back to when this fussy old guard had adamantly said we wouldn't be stopping at Kabel, too long a detour, and he'd promised my mother he would escort me to Leonis as soon and safely as possible. It was unexpected, but it looked like the rain had done something right.
The carriage slowed and stopped. Through the window, I could see one building still showing light. The driver's voice came muffled through the roof. "You can rest here. I'll have us moving again by first light."
In my excitement, I stepped out and immediately regretted it. Cold rain hit my face and found every gap in my cloak with surgical precision. I squinted up at the sign above the door ahead.
The Kabel Tavern.
Ding!
The bell above the door announced us.
Warmth hit me before I'd fully stepped inside: fire, candle smoke, and the smell of something cooking in the back.
I stood in the doorway for a moment just absorbing it.
The tavern's common room was as still, lively, and bustling, unaffected by the storm outside. A pair of rough-looking men at a corner table were arguing loudly about something neither of them understood. Someone laughing too hard at a joke only they'd heard. An old man by the fire who looked like he'd been there since the building was constructed.
The barmaid appeared from behind the counter, blonde and bright-eyed.
"Welcome!" She looked between Gerard and me with a wide smile. "Dreadful night, isn't it? You two look absolutely soaked. Can I get you something hot? The stew is nothing fancy, but it'll warm you up."
"Rooms first," Gerard said pleasantly, already moving toward the counter. "Do you have any available?"
"Just the one left, actually." She leaned over and produced a key from under the counter, setting it down with a small clink. "Last door on the right, first floor. Two beds. The window sticks a bit, but the roof doesn't leak, which puts it ahead of most places on this road."
She glanced past Gerard toward me. "Will that do?"
"It'll do," I said.
"And the stew? Or maybe a drink?"
Gerard looked at me with expectation. It had been a while since we'd eaten, and it had been even longer since he last had a drink.
"I'm fine," I said. "Thank you."
The barmaid smiled and nodded. "You can always come down if you change your mind."
Gerard paid for the room and picked up the key, and we headed down the hall.
"You should eat," Gerard said, the moment the room door closed behind us.
"Not hungry."
"You said that at lunch too."
He set the rucksack down and turned to look at me.
"And at breakfast. And at dinner yesterday."
"Then I've been consistently not hungry. That's almost admirable."
"Young Master, the body does not ask permission indefinitely. At some point, it will stop asking and fail you when you need it the most."
"That was almost poetic."
He made a sound through his nose, the exhale of a man who has lost this argument enough times, but not enough times to have stopped trying.
"I'll go back down for a drink. We'll be back on the road by morning. We lost time today, so we won't be making any more stops till we reach the Academy. We need to make it before the opening ceremony. Rest well tonight."
"Right."
He paused at the door and looked at me. It seemed like he had something else to say, but couldn't find the words.
"Anything else you want to nag about, old man?"
Gerard sighed.
"The library you wanted to visit, we won't have much time, but it won't be an issue if you stop by in the morning before we leave."
Then he left.
I dropped onto the nearest bed without undressing and stared at the ceiling.
The candle on the nightstand threw unsteady shapes across the wooden boards. Rain hammered the shutters in irregular bursts, the kind of rhythm that should drag you under if you let it.
Four days ago, I had been home.
My mother had held me for a long time before letting go. When she finally stepped back, she straightened my collar with both hands and wished me well on my journey.
My sister, who couldn't even stand, just eight months old, had grabbed my finger with both as if staking a claim. I'd let her hold longer if not for Gerard's gaze burning holes in my back, counting each second.
I said my final goodbyes and walked down the road without looking back.
I knew if I looked back, I'd see my mother still standing there watching, and if I saw that, I'd start hesitating.