“You’re a little early.”

  A black horse was tied to a wooden post near the building.

  Another horse, its hair brown, except for a white diamond-shaped stretch adorning its head, was just being led by a short, bold man. I recognized him from before.

  “Deputy.”

  “Name’s Thomas. Thomas Cleantoe. You can call me Thomas while we’re on the road.”

  “Alright.”

  I threw a glance at the horses.

  “The brown one is Cupcake. She is the sweetest, most well behaved horse you could find anywhere between this town and Silverveil.”

  He stroked the horse's neck with affection - something the horse seemed to enjoy.

  “Have you ever ridden a horse before?”

  “When I was little. I barely remember it.”

  Surprisingly, this wasn't a memory that came from Sebastian.

  When I was a child, my parents would sometimes take me horse riding. By “sometimes”, I meant “once every year or so”. The last time was somewhere around my early teens.

  Obviously, I have already forgotten almost all of it. I could maybe remember the overall sensation if I tried hard enough, as well as a few basics, but most of my meager horse riding skill was lost to time. The last time I rode a horse was closer to my birth than to my current age.

  “That’s fine. Cupcake here was chosen with this situation in mind. As long as you can stay in the saddle, and do the very basics, she will follow Gust over there.”

  He pointed at the black horse.

  “So when are we leaving?”

  “We need to pass by the smithy. It should be open in around thirty minutes.”

  The deputy, Thomas, scratched his chin.

  “Since you came this early, how about I teach you some of the basics on the way there?”

  I had no objections to that.

  First, under the deputy's guidance, I petted Cupcake, stroking her neck, while saying a few generic greetings.

  In truth, the words one said to a horse were largely unimportant – what was important was the tone, as well as the voice itself, since the horse needed to recognize it.

  Then, I saddled Cupcake. I could barely remember things like putting the left foot on the stirrup first, then swinging the right one over, but overall, even if this body lacked the instincts, my mind could recreate the basic movements.

  The voice commands were slightly different in this world, like “whoa!” - the command to slow down or stop - becoming “oi!”; However, besides that, everything else was the same.

  We made our way to the smithy over the next thirty minutes or so. Of course, it was about three times as long as calmly walking there. The reason for the duration was Thomas's instructions and exercises on the way.

  “That’s good. You may not be a prodigy, but you seem to be decent enough. At the very least, you remember the basics.”

  I did recall a few more things, so overall, I could handle the horse with relative ease. Although much of it was due to its excellent temperament.

  “Wait here. I'll go get the money.”

  Leaving me with the horses, the man went inside the Crimson Anvil, which was now open.

  I remained behind, as instructed. Me and Goronir already said our goodbyes, so seeing him again now would only be awkward. Moreover, it’s not like I was feeling too social right now.

  “There you go.”

  I caught a heavy pouch, containing 30 gold. My balance was now over 80 gold, excluding the sealed box filled with Midnight Iron debris, which could be worth at least as much.

  “Mind showing me our route?”

  “I was planning on doing a full review when we stop for a rest in a few hours, but I can give you a quick overview if you want.”

  “No need.”

  If this wouldn't change anything, I'd rather not waste time.

  Alternating between walk and trot, we made our way to the town's main gate.

  The back entrance - which didn’t even have a gate - faced the forest, and was located at the town's south-west.

  However, the main entrance was to its north-east, at the midpoint of a thick wooden wall, which surrounded around three quarters of the city.

  I've heard that this wall was built when this town became… well, a town, rather than a village, which took place around half a century ago.

  Since then, it grew from encompassing a third of the town to its current size. Every couple of years, another expansion project took place.

  Before we got to the gate, we entered a large plaza. This was simply called the ‘Central Plaza’, and it was the core of the commercial district.

  I have only been here once before, visiting a general store to buy a few miscellaneous items. Currently, the place was not too lively, but this would allegedly change during a caravan’s visit – especially on the first and last days.

  I took a look around, but my eyes didn't linger – it was more of a final farewell than anything else.

  “Hol- Oh, sir!”

  The guard at the gate stood in salute the moment he looked up and recognized the deputy. Still..

  “If you could just show me your token, sir!”

  Thomas did not take offense to the request – instead, he nodded in approval, procuring a small metal cylinder from his pocket, with a tiny crystal embedded into its center.

  The guard took out a glass sphere, the size of his fist, and Thomas held the cylinder to its surface.

  Suddenly, a dim light, its color a mix of yellow and red, illuminated the sphere from within.

  I could also make out a few digits and characters floating inside, although they were impossible to see properly from my angle.

  “Safe travels, Sir!”

  Thomas nodded, and as the guard stepped aside, our horses made their way through the gate.

  “That was an ‘identification sphere’. It's used in conjunction with every type of official identification token in this kingdom.”

  He seemed to have caught my gaze.

  “I see. That’s the same type of token every citizen has?”

  My question was met with a chuckle.

  “Those things cost around 30 gold, so if we demanded every citizen get one, we'd have a riot on our hands.”

  “Oh.”

  “Instead, citizens in cities and towns are issued certificates at birth, which are exchanged for another certificate once they reach fourteen. Afterwards, they are free to purchase an identification token.”

  “If it costs so much, why would they?”

  “Some positions require it. For example, anything above a squad leader at the town watch requires one, and so does any merchant who wishes to register their caravan or trading company – or anyone who wishes to register a guild, company or family business, for that matter.”

  It sounded like anything important in this kingdom required such a token.

  “You’ll also need it for most missions in the Adventure’s Guild, past a certain level.”

  “So I have to get one of those?”

  “Don’t worry. The cost of a true interrogation already covers it, at least as long as you pass.”

  While we were talking, I took in the sight of the surrounding fields, washed in the morning light. The road stretched to the north-west and to the opposite direction. We followed the former, which, so far, continued along the wall.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  To my right, which was the north-east, beyond the near-endless fields and grassy planes, I could see a few forest hills – the tree crowns were dark green, in stark contrast to the bright crimson pines I've been seeing ever since I came to this world.

  Looking at the beautiful scene, I felt a modicum of wonder, if only for a moment.

  Once we rode for a few more minutes, reaching the town wall's northernmost point, the road continued on, curving slightly as it led uphill. To my left, I saw the Red Pine Forest, more distant than I was used to.

  As we went farther, the tree crowns in the distance came closer and closer to my eye level - until I could see the massive mountain ridge that lay far beyond the forest's edge.

  “This is the Iron Ridge. Its southern part, that is. It ends a bit farther south, right before the Gloom Swamps.”

  I could indeed see the last mountain to the south descending below the treeline.

  “It stretches all the way to our northern border, hundreds of kilometers from here. In fact, those mountains constitute Valoria's western border.”

  That was quite impressive. Well, I did remember the longest mountain ridges on Earth stretching for thousands of kilometers, but the Iron Ridge mountains were still quite massive – some of the peaks were shrouded in white snow even now.

  I couldn't make a proper estimation, but it seemed they were at least a couple kilometers tall, given this was the middle of summer.

  “The highest peaks, farther north, can reach 6 kilometers. The highest ones here are 4 to 5.”

  My curiosity was sated by the local guide for this sightseeing trip.

  Was 6 kilometers a lot? I honestly only remembered that Everest was over 8 kilometers. I supposed three quarters of Earth’s highest mountain was indeed respectable.

  I threw another glance at the majestic mountains, but after a moment, my eyes turned back to the gray, dirty cobblestone comprising the road. I just couldn’t bring myself to care about those sights, striking as they were.

  We continued onward, as the forest’s edge disappeared below the cliff, which was a few dozen meters left of our road. To our right stretched a mix of plains, wild groves, and the woods in the distance.

  The horses walked on, one hour after another, occasionally breaking into a trot under Thomas's guidance. At noon, we finally had our lunch break, and the deputy explained the plan for this journey, showing me our route on his map.

  “So basically, if I get this right, we should be there by Mercy, night?”

  To summarize, today was Mercy as well, which was Saturday on earth.

  The Crimson Stream road lay near the edge of the Red Pine Forest, passing through two small settlements, and eventually reaching Pine Peak – a town near the northernmost edge of the forest, which was one riding day away from the city to its northeast.

  We would continue at a standard pace, covering around 50 kilometers per day, camping on the road on Respite (Sunday), and reaching the first village by sunset on Rise (Monday). That’s where the paved road would turn into a regular dirt one, too.

  We would then push our horses to cover around 70 kilometers straight to the next village by the end of Labour. From there, Harvest, Strife and Perseverance would be traveled at our regular pace, and we would be able to reach Pine Peak around the afternoon.

  Over the next day, Mercy, we'd cover the last 60 kilometers to Silverveil.

  “If everything goes well – yes, a week and half a day. Although you must remember what I told you – this road is not without danger.”

  “I understand.”

  Beyond the few bandits desperate or cowardly enough to plague this road with no caravans and occasional patrols, there were also plenty of wild animals, and a few dangerous monsters.

  “Good. Then let us move on.”

  Hastily gulping down the last pastry in my hand - one which would be replaced by chewy jerky until we reached our next destination - I climbed onto Cupcake, who showed no resistance at all, and followed Thomas, riding onwards into the distance.

  ***

  Our journey during the day was silent, with nothing but the monotonous sound of hooves hitting stone keeping me company, giving me something to focus my mind on. It ended with no surprises.

  The first two would actually be the least dangerous days, due to the high (and extremely long) cliff separating us from the nearby forest, and the excellent vantage point the road itself was, making it impossible for bandits or monsters to approach unnoticed during the day.

  Of course, if we would get unlucky enough, a stray harpy tribe, coming from the faraway mountains on an unusually long hunting trip, could turn this journey into a deadly struggle for survival.

  Alternatively, some desperate bandits could decide to hide here for days, sometimes weeks, only to ambush a single courier, who might not have carried anything other than useless letters, which he would burn anyway if he saw no chance of escape.

  However, the possibility was extremely low. That, and I didn’t believe in luck. If it would happen, it would happen. That’d just be how it is.

  Still, this was the wilderness – as such, we would remain diligent.

  Today would be the first time I stood watch during the night – until now, every journey outside the town walls concluded before sunset, and the one that didn't ended with me losing consciousness.

  At least Thomas had mercy on me, volunteering to take the second shift, letting me sleep during regular hours. Apparently, he was used to the shifting sleep schedule.

  After setting up camp and eating dinner, Thomas quickly disappeared into the tent. His breath was so quiet and steady, I couldn't even make it out from this distance. Instead, I just assumed he fell asleep.

  The moon was large and the sky was clear tonight, so we decided to avoid lighting a fire – it could attract unwanted attention.

  Sitting under the moonlit sky, I contemplated what to do next. No, rather , I contemplated the order in which to do the two things I planned to do tonight.

  Standing watch didn't necessarily mean doing nothing. One obvious thing I wouldn't give up was my sword training. The other…

  I took out a certain piece of parchment from my potion case.

  During our journey today, we had two more short, fifteen minute breaks. I used most of that time to quickly skim through the two-sided page.

  It described a certain meditation technique, called [Arcane Meditation] – one which potentially allowed any human to unlock the ability to interact with arcane particles, directly via their will.

  Of course, if it was that easy, everyone would do it. Judging by that mysterious wizard's story, learning this technique in a month, from a torn page, without a mentor – that was a feat that required immense resolve, talent, and time.

  I knew nothing about my talent. Perhaps it was decent. Maybe, if this was considered a Skill, my passive trait - [Inspired Creativity] - would further help with this challenge.

  However, I was under no illusion - with three, or even six hours per day, there was no way I could achieve the same result as Blackwood did in a month of complete and total dedication.

  That being said, I would at least try to follow the instructions. Even if it would take me a few months, I still had to start at some point, and as the saying went: “The best time to plant a tree is ten years ago. The second best time is right now.”

  ‘Alright, so I should just sit like this..’

  I took off my sword, putting it beside me. I had also taken off the chainmail earlier – riding a whole day in it was tiresome enough, but having to sleep in it was basically impossible. I still wore my leather armor, though.

  ‘Now, I need to relax my body, close my eyes, and focus my senses on feeling something all around me. I should feel nothing at first. Then, it should be an elusive feeling, like trying to realize a dream is a dream while still asleep...’

  I roughly understood what I needed to do. I got into a comfortable posture, sitting on the nearby grass, and focused all of my senses on trying to feel this something.

  …At least, I tried to focus all my senses, but a certain part of me could help but focus on the nearby sounds – I was standing watch, after all.

  ‘Sebastian. Stop fidgeting and focus. You don't realize it today, but when you grow up, this will be extremely important.’

  I was instantly brought out of my meditation by a familiar voice in my head. Or, would it be better to call it a voice from Sebastian’s past?

  In this memory, the young Sebastian was sitting in a very similar position to me right now. His eyes were closed, so he couldn't see his father's face – only hear his voice.

  ‘You need to focus every sense you have on it. Try to feel something around you.’

  ‘But dad! I tried for so long, but I can't feel anything! I never feel anything! Can we just-’

  ‘I told you. If you want me to teach you sword techniques, you must train this, too. Or did you give up on learning those techniques?’

  ‘Fine!’

  Sebastian, who sounded like he was in his early teens, focused every shred of will, continuing to try and feel something.

  His efforts bore no fruits that day, and the memory ended after around 3 hours.

  ‘But… how far do those memories go?’

  Instead of focusing on the page instructed, I instead focused on the memories.

  When unlocking new memories, they ‘replayed’ in my mind. However, in reality, only a moment or two passed, and the next second or few - depending on the length and intensity of the memory - were spent on ‘digestion’.

  During that initial moment, I was vulnerable, but during the subsequent ‘digestion’, I was vaguely aware of my surroundings. I believed I would be more than capable of reacting to an intruder.

  The only problem was…

  ‘This just doesn't end.’

  While ‘digestion’ only took a few seconds, today I found out about the commutative mental drain caused by unlocking too many memories in a row.

  I unlocked around 10 memories in the first 5 minutes, 10 more in the next 15 minutes, and now, I have stabilized at around 10 minutes of rest per 1 memory.

  But the thing was…

  ‘How long did it take him to reach the next stage?’

  So far, Sebastian had been doing one meditation session per day, lasting between one and two hours. Or perhaps he skipped some days? I didn't really know.

  The thing was, I could pick different ‘topics’ when unlocking memories, but when such ‘topic’ was picked, within it, I could only unlock memories in a sequential order.

  Well, if I unlocked the topic in the ‘middle’, like with Sebastian’s swordsmanship, I could also move ‘backwards’, unlocking previous memories, at a much faster pace.

  Unfortunately, I unlocked Sebastian’s meditation memory around the middle of his very first session. Earlier that day, his father promised he'd teach him battle techniques if he agreed to do this, first.

  ‘Could he have planned this far ahead?’

  Sebastian’s father was the one who left him this sword. He was the one who taught him swordsmanship, as well as techniques. Could he have taught him this meditation technique in preparation for this very moment?

  ‘But why didn't he master it yet?’

  What I was viewing right now was the distant past. Unless Sebastian was completely talentless when it came to magic, he should have learned this basic technique over the years, one which wasn't even a spell itself, but the prerequisite to learning basic cantrips.

  ‘Either he truly was talentless… or his father stopped him before reaching the final stage.’

  Was there a valid motivation to do the latter? I didn't know. Perhaps the order in which the Skills / Abilities were gained affected the future Path? Well, even if it did, I only had one ‘free slot’ now, so I would rather learn this over anything else.

  ‘Just how many sessions…’

  The problem was - there were far too many sessions.

  After recalling 30 of Sebastian's fruitless attempts, I felt like my head was splitting apart, so I decided to give it a rest for tonight. Just a tad more than two hours have passed.

  ‘At least I know that I'm making progress. Even if he literally trained every single day until recently, it would only be a few years – which would translate to a month or two of recalling 30 sessions every day.’

  Of course, I absolutely didn't want to suffer like this for months, but I had to admit this was better than trying to train it myself, and I still held on to my hope – hope in Sebastian's past talent. At least enough talent to learn this method in under a year, which would take me 12 torturous days to recall.

  Either way, I put the memories aside, picking up my sword. It seemed like sword training would be getting an extra hour tonight.

  The symbols indicate cities (well, one central city in this case), towns, and nameless villages or similar small settlements).

  And, for today's sponsor (lol):