Passion of the Liger

Chapter 15

Three and a half weeks later…

A lone figure, walked down the quiet backstreets of Firgenduke, the grand city which was the capital of Tuscan. This person was a stranger to town and had just arrived earlier in the evening, appearing not long after the sun had set. He wore a thick, warm hooded robe, that was the colour of blood. The hood was pulled far over his face and at this late hour, it was impossible to make out his face.

Whoever it was, it was obvious he was trying to be inconspicuous and stuck to the shadows as he made his way deliberately through the city. It was a quiet part of town, and there was hardly another soul on the streets. There was a fine mist of rain coming down; unlike most rain, this light drizzle was rather pleasant.

The stranger stopped when he encountered the fountain. It was in the middle of a large intersection. Exactly as he had remebered it. Locals called it the ‘Guy on the Horse’. It was a large statue of a man on a horse that was reared up on its hind legs. The man looked like a warrior and had one hand on the reins, and the other holding his greatsword high up in the air.

The stranger just stood there and took everything in–the statue, the moonlight above and the faint trace of rain. It had been a long time since he had seen this statue. He had almost forgotten it. Seeing it now brought back many memories.

He sighed.

He had grown up in Firgenduke, and had not been back in over twenty years. Being here now, he felt a heavy weight on his chest. He realised he missed this city.

From a leather pouch at his waist, he pulled out a golden coin and threw it into the fountain. He closed his eyes and made a silent prayer. He did not need long to choose his wish–there was only one thing he wanted.

He took one last look at the statue, and then turned and continued his journey. He walked silently along the cobblestone road for a little while longer–even though it was dark, he had no trouble knowing where to go–it seemed his feet remembered where to go, even if his mind had forgotten.

Finally, he came to a stop. He had reached his destination.

It was a large building, made of stone bricks. There was a big wooden door at the front and a sign above it, that read:

“The Encumbered Adventurer”

It had been so long since he had seen this building. It was like seeing an old friend again. From behind the door, he could hear the jolly sound of boisterous voices chatting away, and his nose picked up the delicious smell of food.

Without further ado, the hooded stranger pushed open the door, and entered the tavern.