Repentance by Moony1 | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil

Chapter 79

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Exiting the narrow gap, they finally landed themselves in new terrain, a valley with lush green grasses and trees. The landscape was also comprised of mountains in the distance, but that isn't what their main focus was after leaving the scorching desert.

Scattered houses surrounded by small farm fields and animal pens filled the area, while the village itself acts more like a city due to how large it is despite being a feudalistic place to live. Nevertheless, the sight caused everyone to smile fondly, happy to be near civilization once more.

Many people walked throughout the streets wearing either Renaissance or medieval clothing—a variety of colors and designs that varied depending on wealth and status. Some wore expensive outfits with silk, while others wore plain tunics and trousers. Everyone seemed busy with their lives until they noticed the wagons entering. Curiosity washed over them, for they had never seen these foreigners before.

Solomon sighed in response, relieved to be in a place that isn't a deserted wasteland. "Finally! A real place! I swear, that journey is like forever! I never thought we'd see the likes of people or places and all that crap!" He exclaimed as he stretched out his limbs, cracking his bones to relieve some of the tension in his muscles.

Seth giggled at the boy's antics. "Good to know you're in high spirits now," he said while glancing at his three friends, who had looks of relief on their faces. "It is nice to see everyone in good spirits," he said, smiling warmly at them before turning back towards the village, "but it seems like we have attracted some attention."

He observed a small crowd of people gathering around them on the sidelines; their expressions were a mixture of confusion and curiosity in regards to their being outsiders here as the group of wagons continued to approach deeper into the community itself.

Looking around at their surroundings, Seth noticed many different kinds of buildings lined up along both sides of the street: shops selling various goods, from food and clothing to weapons and tools. The villagers watched them intently, whispering among themselves as the visitors made their way down the cobblestone path.

Some of the residents recognized the young man in white garb and asked, "Is that him?" A question was whispered by a teenage girl to her friend beside her, who shrugged her shoulders in response. They gave off nervous looks in regards to unknown visitors coming into their village, while a few were curious as they followed suit behind.

Bruno tilted his hat forward as he scanned the crowd of people who gathered around their caravans. "This reminds me of the times when I traveled around the land with my family during vacations; there's something nostalgic about it," he noted wistfully as he reminisced about those days.

"You have family?" Genno asked in surprise while raising an eyebrow at the poet, "What happened to them?" He asked in a respectful tone of voice, not wanting to sound rude or inconsiderate about the other's personal affairs.

Lowering his head slightly, he avoided eye contact with the monk as he mumbled quietly under his breath, "It's a long story, but to break it down to the basics, I—" His sentence was cut short shortly after the wagon they were in fully stopped in its tracks, halting their discussion altogether.

Parking at the center of town, the person riding ahead of them turned his head back and said, "Alright boys! It seems we have no choice but to stop here," he declared loudly, gaining everyone's attention instantly while drawing curious looks from the crowd. "For the time being, feel free to explore, but remain vigilant, especially of any thieves around! And remember, if you get yourselves killed, it's not my fault!"

Hearing the signal, the group of four nodded and left the wagon to begin their exploration as the rest of the priests exited their own to explore, walking through the paved streets that led through winding alleys and rows of houses.

Genno, Solomon, Seth, and Bruno stayed together while examining every inch of the village's architecture, their eyes wide with wonder as they admired every detail, from the beautifully designed buildings to the vibrant colors decorating each building.

"So what now?" The boy asked, scratching his head awkwardly while staring at the unfamiliar territory before him, "We can't stay here in the open," glancing around to see a couple of people eyeing the holy man with a mixture of emotions plastered on their faces, "especially when everyone is practically drooling at the sight of our sorry asses," snorting at their expressions in disgust.

Seth frowned at the language Solomon was displaying. "Be polite child," he scolded gently before continuing, "Now come all of you; I know a place to rest," beckoning the others while walking forward, heading towards a tavern located at the side of the street.

The tavern was a large, spacious building with a wooden door and a window on each side, facing the road that led to it. Its exterior was painted white with a sloped roof, and its front was framed by two stone pillars with torches burning brightly inside, creating a warm, inviting atmosphere. Above the entrance hung a sign with letters that read 'The Blue Fox.' The door was open wide, letting in a steady flow of customers who came and went as they pleased.

"Let us rest there; I have a feeling the holy spirit has shown us the way leading to this establishment," Seth proposed, pointing towards the building itself. "Remember to stick together and don't stray; I do not want any of you getting lost out there," he reminded his allies who listened attentively to their leader's instructions.

Solomon scoffed at the idea: "Bah! I can take care of myself!" He proudly declared as he marched towards the door while the others followed behind him, albeit with worry evident on their faces at the sudden action he just demonstrated.

Entering inside, they noticed how rustic and cozy the place is, with wooden walls that are decorated with hunting trophies and old, dusty paintings from decades past. The floors are stained a deep brown from years of use, and the tables are scattered haphazardly with no apparent rhyme or reason. The chairs are not matching; some are taller than others, and some are more faded than others.

Its place smells like wet sawdust, smoke, and alcohol—a combination that is strangely comforting in a way, like a home that is familiar even though it has changed over the years. In contrast, the atmosphere is chaotic and loud, with people talking and shouting over one another, making it difficult to hear anything else.

"Hey!" A bartender yelled over the noise, catching the group's attention as they approached closer, "Over here," gesturing them towards seats available at the counter while holding up a rag to clean glasses with, "First timers, eh?" He guessed correctly, recognizing that these individuals aren't from around these parts judging by their attire alone.

The bartender was a tall man with dark, tanned skin and a rugged face, which was covered with a thick beard that grew on his chin. He wore a brown leather vest over a white tunic, along with grey pants and black boots. A dirty apron wrapped around his waist, making it appear larger than normal. His messy black hair was tied back into a ponytail, and his eyes gleamed with diligence.

"The name is Frank, owner of this fine establishment. So, what do you guys want?" He introduced himself, setting down a pair of cups in front of them while filling them with a strange liquid before pouring his own with a similar substance. "Have one in the house; they are free for newcomers," he said, grinning at them cheerily as he held up his own tankard. "Cheers!" Taking a big gulp of his own.

Solomon was the first one to grab and drink it all in one go, causing his friends to stare at him in shock and ask, "What?" Putting it down with confusion on his face, "Why are you all looking at me like that?" He was blinking innocently while tilting his head slightly to the side.

Bruno chuckled at the scene. "We've never seen a kid like your age drink the whole thing," he pointed out as he took a sip of his drink, savoring its sweet flavor on the tongue, "although I can't deny how addictive these brews are," taking another swig from his tankard afterwards.

Genno shrugged lightly while bringing his glass to his lips, sipping from it cautiously, unlike his companions. "This indeed tastes rather odd," he stated plainly, frowning slightly at its bitter taste. "However, it is quite refreshing nonetheless," he commented on it as well.

But Seth was dissatisfied with seeing a boy drinking alcoholic beverages, but knowing how common it was in medieval times, he was willing to make an exception for such things. "I believe water is better for your age," he told the boy, who then rolled his eyes in response.

"Oh, fuck off! You're no fun!" Solomon complained, slamming his cup on the counter angrily while crossing his arms petulantly, making the others cringe inwardly once more at such foul language that shouldn't come from a child's mouth: "There are so many things I can enjoy right now, and you're ruining them all," huffing in frustration at the unfairness of everything.

Frank couldn't help laughing hysterically as he placed another filled tankard on the table. "Well, damn boy, you certainly have quite an attitude on you! How old are you anyway?" He inquired curiously, unable to resist his inner compulsion despite knowing he shouldn't be asking questions in regard to strangers, especially since most travelers like these people tend to be secretive about who they are.

"Fourteen years old."

The bartender was surprised to hear that but nonetheless sighed, "Ah, that explains the sword," glancing at the boy's back, "You killed a man before?" I wonder what kind of life this youngster might've lived through despite being so young.

Not wasting a beat to answer, "yep," he said so casually much to Seth's discomfort while he tried to keep a straight face during their exchange, "a lot of guys I did too; they deserved it though," shrugging nonchalantly at it, "by the way, could I get another one?" Solomon requested as he gestured towards his empty tankard.

Taking another glance at the kid, Frank shook his head disapprovingly and reached underneath the counter before producing a pitcher full of fresh, cold water. He placed the container down and slid it over to the boy, who thanked him for it, while Genno and Seth exchanged glances briefly before returning their attention to their drinks.

"So, I'm guessing you fellas wanted a room to stay?" Frank asked as he refilled their cups with more alcohol, "Because it requires some payment beforehand though," reminding them of rules as he grabbed a gold coin from inside his pocket before laying it flat on the surface of the counter.

Seth nodded in understanding. "How much?" He asked politely, his tone calm and polite despite having some doubts over the fact that neither of them had any money to begin with. "We are in a dire situation as it is," he confessed openly without hesitation while noticing Bruno hiding a smile in amusement. "And if it is too much, I can try and find an alternate solution if necessary," he offered.

Leaning against the counter, the owner considered their request for a moment before deciding what to do. "Well, seeing that yall don't have anything valuable on you, I wanted something else that is more important," he announced to four travelers while smirking wickedly at them.

"Are you the Son of God people are talking about nowadays?"

Frank questioned bluntly, catching the four off guard when hearing such a remark coming from their host, who stares directly at the holy man without blinking, "Because if I'm correct, then consider yourselves lucky as I have been eager to meet you." His wicked smirk turned to a genuine smile of welcome as he waited for their responses.

A shocked expression flashed across Seth's face momentarily; however, it disappeared within a split second as he regained composure.Yes, I am," he replied without hesitation or doubt in his voice while placing a hand over his chest, where his heart resides.

Receiving confirmation from the holy man, the owner's grin widened furthermore. "I heard you were able to do some miracles, as the saying goes," he said, taking out another tankard filled with water and passing it to him. "This is just water, but I wanted you to change it to something else as a sign of proving you are truly what they claim you to be," Frank instructed, waiting patiently for the demonstration.

Having no objections, Seth took a hold of the mug, and with his force of will, the water turned into red wine, much to Frank's surprise and satisfaction. "Well, what do you know? They weren't lying after all," he murmured to himself, studying the contents closely before tasting them, "not bad if I may say so," praising his guest's talents as he poured himself a glass for himself.

Seth smiled in return. "Will you allow us to stay for a few days? We promise to leave as soon as possible," he offered generously, earning nods of approval from the other three in the group. "I'm not asking for much, merely just temporary shelter from harsh elements outside," he said, bowing his head respectfully to the bartender.

Waving his hand dismissively, Frank smiled happily at this request: "Definitively, stay as long as you want," accepting the offer as he picked up a tray full of tankards from the countertop. "I gotta serve the rest of them; you kids make yourselves at home, but behave well, or I'll kick you out personally, understand?" Warning them sternly with a serious expression plastered across their faces.

They then nodded in acceptance, their faces mirroring each other's expressions. "Thank you very much, sir; we appreciate this greatly," Seth expressed sincerely, causing Frank to laugh heartily at his reaction.

"Anything for the man who claims to be the messiah!"

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