The Fireborn Chronicles 2: The Blazing Guardian

Chapter 10: Across Fields of Fertile Fidelity

The peacefulness of plains was something Silva always enjoyed, regardless of how much she was fascinated with forests. Their simple and mellow texture was enough for relaxation, for travelers and wildlife grazing about. When paired with hot weather, however, Silva felt irritated among them.

She and Guren were traveling on the main road to Edelbanks, the capital city of Vyngard, where they would stop to rest before setting back out for Mara. They had to take the road across farmland, surrounded by valleys and hillocks. Then, they would pass the bridge through the Eddon River, ending up in Edelbanks soon after.

Silva heard that there was a southern road, one that descended along the Eddon River. However, not many people crossed it because the land was barren and unsuitable for farmland. Mara, a desolate town, lay at the end of the road, perched beside the Hunspr Sea. Rumors in Rolnik believed that if you set sail in the sea and kept going south, you would reach a narrow inlet, surrounded by swampland.

And crossing that inlet meant certain death, as you would arrive at the dreaded Hloubkŷ Marshes.

Silva felt no need to trouble her mind further, as she was focused on the scenery in front of her. The radiant sun was like a repellant to her fears, and Silva could only gaze at it to calm herself. She didn't feel too warm, wearing a long-sleeve, white button-up, and brown leggings for comfortable travels. Most of her clothes weren't fashionable, but Silva didn't mind it.

She looked ahead, noticing that the countryside was rapidly expanding. More and more farmhouses came into view, their dainty images perfect for illustration. Silva was almost tempted to bring out her art supplies and depict this beautiful landscape, but Guren's pace steered her to follow along.

They had been walking for about two hours now, with the Siegfried manor nowhere in sight. The warmth of the afternoon was beginning to tire Silva's pace, as her boots slowly trudged through a dirt pile. Or that was what Silva had believed until Guren turned his back.

"That's...a manure pile," he said calmly.

Silva groaned, walking towards a patch of grass and wiping as much manure off her soles as she could. She could still smell the stench of them, no matter how far she kept walking.

"It must be from a horse," Guren explained, covering his nose as well. "Maybe we can find a well to wash your boots. By then, the smell won't be so bad."

Silva nodded, making sure to walk more cautiously now. She was sure to watch for any more manure piles, warning any travelers coming by them. But the heat, the weight of her bag, and the stench of her boots were tempting her to cry out in frustration. She could keep up with Guren, but he walked the roads like a soldier, ornery and monotonous. Silva, on the other hand, enjoyed observing the land she passed by.

Is that a sign of being fragile? Silva thought. No, it's just who I am. When battle arrives, I know to turn off my tranquil nerves and focus.

As she kept thinking, the main gravel road was soon inhabited by frivolous wheatgrass. They had passed by a wheat field, which was so incredibly large that Silva couldn't see where it ended. A  mountain of pale yellow diverged the road, its glow reflecting off the sun.

In the distance, Silva moved her eyes to the left, noticing a green-tapered mound. On top of the mound was a house. Next to it was an orangish-white barn, with a spacious yard and plenty of fencings. Silva could see sheep and cows, munching on grass and trotting sluggishly around their pen. There looked to be a herd dog, guiding several flocks of sheep out of the pen and into the barn. What appeared to be a routine was a fascination for Silva, and she longed to watch more of it.