Soulbound: Embers of Defiance

Chapter 3: A Secret Delivery

In the months that followed, Kass and I worked side by side, delivering books together to earn our keep and put food on the table.

In the quiet hours of dawn, we rose from our shared bed, the crisp morning air stirring around us as we prepared for another day. Despite the cramped quarters, a silent understanding had blossomed between us. I learned that Kass preferred the quiet murmur of falling rain to the boisterous chatter of the marketplace, and that beneath her fiery exterior she harbored a secret love for poetry, her voice dropping to a soft whisper as she recited her favorites.

Our bookstore was a well-known landmark, its weathered sign swinging gently in the breeze above the entrance. Chronarch Books, it proclaimed in faded gold lettering. The shop was nestled among a row of quaint, half-timbered buildings on the very edge of the town, next to a crumpled watchtower. Here, the ancient city walls rose high, their weathered stones etched with the stories of a thousand battles. Wildflowers, defiant bursts of color against the grey stone, sprouted from cracks in the wall. A vibrant climbing vine, its emerald leaves clinging to the rough stone, snaked its way up its facade, reaching towards the sunlight filtering through the battlements above.

We usually set out on foot, our satchels heavy with the weight of knowledge waiting to be shared with eager readers. We skipped through the streets, two mops of blond and red hair bouncing with each step.

Kass, despite her gruff demeanor, possessed a surprising knack for remembering names and faces. As we delivered books, she'd engage in lively conversations with the townsfolk, inquiring about their families and recommending stories based on their interests. I, on the other hand, found myself drawn to the solitary figures, the ones who lingered by the shelves with a melancholic air. To them, I offered tales of adventure and daring escapes, hoping to spark a flicker of joy in their eyes.

Eldoria itself, with a population of around 15,000, was a vibrant hub. However, our journeys took us beyond the city walls. The first place we would visit was always Sunhaven, a quaint village of about 200 known for its rolling wheat fields and a magnificent old windmill that dominated the skyline. The villagers there were known for their warm smiles and easy laughter.

Next on our route was Blendale, a village of skilled stone masons nestled at the foot of Mount Celestia. Atop the mountain resided the reclusive Order of the Whispering Wind, rumored to possess ancient knowledge. The village itself was famous for its awe-inspiring stone archway, a testament to the masons' craft.

Our paths then took us past quaint cottages with flower boxes overflowing with colorful blooms and bustling market stalls in villages like Fairhaven (known for its annual harvest festival) and Riverbend (famous for its skilled fishers). Our voices mingled with the sounds of daily life that echoed through the air like a symphony of hope and resilience. Along the way, we encountered familiar faces and strangers alike, each encounter a fleeting reminder of the fragile bonds that connected us to the world around us.

Kass, with her shaggy hair and calloused hands, stood out amongst the villagers, yet they welcomed her with open arms, recognizing the fierce loyalty and unwavering spirit that shone in her eyes. Me, they saw as the quiet daughter of the bookseller, a dreamer with a head full of stories and a heart brimming with empathy.

But amidst the hustle and bustle of the villages, there were moments of quiet reflection, stolen glimpses of respite amidst the chaos of our daily lives. Whether it was a stolen moment shared over a simple meal or a quiet conversation exchanged in the shadow of a towering oak tree, Kass and I found solace in each other's company, drawing strength from the unspoken bond that united us in our shared struggle.

On our journeys we carried hearty loaves of bread, wedges of cheese, and slices of cured meat, along with a few pieces of fruit for a touch of sweetness. Sometimes, if we had extra coin to spare, we indulged in freshly baked pastries or savory pies from the bakery, savoring each bite as a rare treat amidst the rigors of our daily routine.