The War of Gods

Chapter 4 - Part 5

"Stable – 5 Silver a day per head," the sign read.

This sign was poorly hanging from a gate of a very common house.

This must be a joke, Mavar thought, but in truth, there were no proper stables in sight, not even on the more well-built side of town, it seemed.

He sighed and knocked on the door.

A slender woman with dark hair opened the door and paused when she looked at him.

"Hum... two horses, for the stable?" Mavar said.

"The sta-... wait, really?" She said. But before Mavar could reply, she continued. "Right! Of course! That'll be ten silvers, stranger. I'll get it all setup for you."

And that she did. After regaining her composure, the woman was a hard worker, even for a job that, to this town, seemed insignificant.

"We don't get many visitors around here." The woman told him, as Mavar handed over a gold coin. "Much less Drows or... well, any sort of Pure Elf. We're mostly half-bloods in this side of the world, Pardon my manners earlier, I was caught off guard."

Right, Szofe was the country of Humans and Half-Elfs. Mavar had made a mental note of that when crossing the border, along with a small list of local dialects he could remember from the top of his memory.

"No harm done," Mavar said, trying to avoid small talk. "We're not staying for long."

"Ah, a pity. Foreigners always have interesting stories to tell. On your way to Alethei, are you?"

Mavar wasn't too keen on revealing their destination. "Just passing through."

"Right... Well, if you make a stop in the big city, Rosemary Inn is the best spot in the Lower Belt," the woman said, catching the hint, "and while you're here, the Fancy Brain over there is worth the extra coin, trust me. My name's Daina, in case you need anything."

"Thanks... Daina. I will call if I need your services again."

Daina gave an awkward chuckle and went back inside.

Mavar stood outside for a moment. He always forgot how kind people are in small villages like this. Or, rather, he often focused of the lack thereof he so often saw. 

Kindness, even when he pushes people away. Not intentionally, should be said, not most times anyway. Time and relationships simply felt different to him. He wanted to feel bad – he knew he should feel bad. The lady was just trying to be nice after all, a small chat couldn't have hurt. And yet, indifference is all he found, as usual.

Small villages like this reminded him of a different time, a different life. He rubbed his walking staff with his thumb, softly, and allowed himself to remember for a moment. The smell of mildew and livestock. The sound of laughter mixed with bugs buzzing and bird chirping. The bright light over the fields.

Her, studying with him.

Mavar flinched.

What he got in exchange for these memories was a splinter in his thumb. A sharp reminder to keep moving on. And to get a new staff, it seems.