Chapter 4
The morning sunlight spilled flawlessly across Stonehollow's heavy western gate as Adrian adjusted the leather straps of his travelling pack for what felt like the absolute tenth time. He wasn't nervous. At least... that was the specific lie he kept continuously telling his own analytical thoughts to maintain his baseline focus. The heavy leather sat comfortably enough across his broad shoulders, carrying little more than a couple of spare changes of clothes, preserved trail rations, a rolled bedroll, several regional maps, and enough raw coffee beans to comfortably survive what Elena had confidently described earlier as "at least three minor, localized diplomatic incidents." Adrian had actively decided it was vastly safer for his immediate sanity not to ask how she professionally measured the parameters of a diplomatic incident. Some mysteries across the dimensions were simply healthier remaining mysteries.
The grand western gate stood completely open before their path. Beyond the wooden threshold, the dirt road completely disappeared into a series of rolling green hills that were beautifully bathed in the warm, liquid light of the early morning sun. For the very first time since stepping through the reality-bending thresholds of the Door of Viscera, Adrian was leaving the safety of Stonehollow not as a lone, detached mercenary adventurer searching for a quick guild request, not as a panicked newcomer desperately trying to survive the night, and not even as a standard card-carrying guild member. He left the frontier outpost as its official, legally recognized Mayor. That profound realization felt strangely, vastly heavier than the physical pack resting on his spine.
Behind his shoulder, familiar voices echoed clearly across the stone gatehouse courtyard.
"Ye packed enough food for the trek, laddy?"
Borin's booming voice carried effortlessly across the stone walls as the old dwarf master marched proudly toward their position, carrying what appeared to be an entire smoked ham balanced casually across one broad shoulder like a trophy.
"I did," Adrian answered, his voice deadpan.
Borin looked thoroughly unconvinced by the claim, his bushy eyebrows narrowing into a single ridge. "Hm."
Without another single word of verbal prompting or negotiation, the dwarf reached forward and unceremoniously yanked open the main flap of Adrian's traveling pack. Adrian blinked, his posture locking up. "Borin."
The old blacksmith ignored his protest completely, peering deep into the bag's inventory. "Hm." He frowned deeper into the dark canvas. "Hm."
"What exactly are you doing to my gear?"
"Fixing it," Borin stated flatly.
Before Adrian could formulate a proper counter-argument, Borin unceremoniously shoved the enormous, heavy smoked ham directly into the backpack, forcing the clothes down. Then followed a massive loaf of fresh crusty bread. Then a heavy, wax-wrapped wheel of aged cheese. Then three thick, compressed packets of dried venison. The traveling pack somehow became significantly, terrifyingly heavier within a matter of seconds.
"There," Borin noted, dusting off his thick hands with a satisfied nod of complete approval. "Now ye've finally packed enough to survive a real journey, laddy."
Adrian shifted his weight, attempting to lift the newly bulked bag off the ground with one arm. "I think you've accidentally packed enough resources to sustain a full military campaign across the valley, Borin."
"Aye," the dwarf smiled broadly beneath his braided beard. "Travelin' through the western provinces burns calories, Mayor."
"It also apparently burns my lower spine."
Kael approached their circle from the shadow of the gatehouse tower, his hand resting near his hilt as he desperately suppressed what looked suspiciously like genuine amusement. "I considered stepping in to stop his packing methods, Adrian."
"You didn't."
"No. I thoroughly enjoy watching you deal with the logistics."
"You're an absolute traitor to the office, Kael."
"I've been called significantly worse things by better men," the captain replied smoothly.
Even Elena's usually stoic lips twitched slightly at the corners as she adjusted her position. She quietly tightened the leather strap securing her own dark traveling cloak before glancing out past the gate toward the open thoroughfare. "The incoming trade caravan should be arriving at our coordinates soon."
Almost the exact microsecond she finished speaking the words, the distant, rhythmic sound of heavy wagon wheels rolled gently across the quiet valley. A massive merchant caravan slowly and systematically appeared over the crest of the nearest hill. There were three large canvas-covered wagons, two smaller utility carts, and nearly twenty independent travellers moving in a loose formation. Some of the mercenaries wore heavy iron armor on patrol, while others traveled simply as civilian families seeking new opportunities on the frontier. Children peeked out excitedly over the wooden wagon sides to watch the town approach, while boisterous traders laughed among themselves, completely and utterly unaware that they were currently approaching the standing Mayor of Stonehollow.
The lead merchant raised one gloved hand cheerfully toward the gates. "Morning, masters!"
Borin answered the greeting before Adrian could even draw a breath to speak. "Ye late, ye human bastard!"
The merchant threw his head back and laughed loudly over the clatter of the horses. "We're exactly on time by the solar clock, master dwarf!"
"For a human, maybe!" Borin shouted back, entirely unrepentant.
Adrian let out a slow sigh, shaking his head. "I completely forgot that dwarves measured temporal clocks differently from the rest of us."
"They don't," Kael replied from his side, his voice flat. "Borin simply believes with absolute certainty that everyone else in the universe is wrong."
"I usually amnot," the dwarf grunted.
"That is definitively not a real word, Borin," Adrian pointed out dryly.
"It is now, laddy. I've decreed it."
Warm laughter spread naturally among the gathered group, the ambient mood remaining incredibly light and comfortable. It was exactly the kind of peaceful, hopeful note Adrian had desperately hoped this monumental journey would begin with on the timeline. He turned his body back toward the interior of Stonehollow one last time, committing the architecture to his memory. Morning sunlight reflected warmly from the newly repaired terracotta rooftops across the blocks. Children chased one another playfully through the dirt streets, hard-working builders already worked with a steady purpose atop fresh wooden scaffolding, and faint trails of wood smoke drifted peacefully from dozens of chimneys into the blue sky. It looked alive. The territory was no longer merely surviving day by day in the shadow of a crisis; it was actively growing.
The sight filled Adrian with a quiet, profound sense of pride. It wasn't because he believed he had personally rebuilt Stonehollow with his own magic; it was because everyone in the community had chosen to stand together. He had simply helped them remember that they could hold their own weight.
Beside his shoulder, Elena noticed exactly where his eyes were lingering. "You'll be back before the winter sets in, Adrian."
Adrian gave a slow, solemn nod. "I know I will."
"The town will still be standing right here when you return."
He smiled faintly. "I know."
Kael took a firm step forward then, extending one muscular forearm in a silent gesture. There were no grand, rehearsed political speeches delivered at the gatehouse, and there was no formal civil ceremony. It was just the crisp, traditional greeting of soldiers who trusted one another. Adrian clasped his forearm firmly, their grips locking.
"Keep them safe while I'm away, Kael."
Kael's hardened expression never changed a single muscle, his golden eyes clear. "I fully intend to, Mayor." Then, almost as an afterthought, his grip tightened a fraction before releasing. "You make sure you do the same out west."
Adrian let out a soft laugh. "I'll try."
"You usually don't bother with caution."
"Fair point."
Borin stepped forward next in line. Instead of offering a standard human handshake or even a military forearm clasp the massive dwarf wrapped Adrian in a crushing, bone-snapping hug that was powerful enough to lift his boots clear off the dirt ground. The remaining air vanished completely from Adrian's lungs as his ribs compressed.
"Borin... can't... breathe..."
The dwarf threw his head back and laughed a belly-shaking laugh, finally setting Adrian back down on his feet. "Don't die out there in the emerald woods, laddy."
"I wasn't exactly planning on it."
"Good." The blacksmith grinned broadly beneath his braided beard, crossing his arms. "'Cause municipal paperwork's incredibly annoyin' to sort out without a Mayor."
Adrian blinked, a dry look crossing his features. "I thought you'd at least say you'd miss my presence, Borin."
"I will miss ye, laddy," Borin shrugged cheerfully. "But the paperwork's still undeniably annoyin'."
Even the stern Kael chuckled at the absolute truth of the statement. Adrian shook his head, a genuine smile breaking through his Stoic defenses as he adjusted his heavy traveling pack against his spine. "I've somehow managed to gather a circle of remarkable friends in this world."
"Aye," Borin folded his massive arms over his chest, his eyes shining with complete validation. "Ye damn well do, Adrian."
Adrian turned his body toward the west once more, his eyes locking onto the horizon. The open road waited for his boots. Beyond those green hills lay entirely new kingdoms, unknown people, ancient primordial forests, and somewhere far ahead on the timeline... a grand political theatre that had never closed its doors to a Sovereign.