Apex 004 (Patreon)

Luckily for Richard it seemed as though there was a merchant heading off to the next city, and such things are always better with company. He had made a simple enough offer. He wouldn't take watch or any such things, but he would fight when they were attacked. His pay would be the same as the other mercenaries.

Considering his rank and experience, the merchant was forced to accept such a great deal. Even if no fight was to occur, the presence of such a valuable individual would be too useful, and he'd get to gloat that he was able to get such a good deal.

They had taken a peculiar route in order to make it to Ashcrawl. Ashcrawl was another large city, though instead of going from town to town, the merchant wished to cut through and head to a town that was halfway in-between them and Ashcrawl, stock up and rest there, before continuing on, however they would take a much harsher route in order to decrease the journey time from a couple of weeks to a few days.

As they neared the top of the hill, Richard helped pushed the carriage over so the mules did not need to struggle.

"It's alright, it's alright," he said to the mules as he brushed the sides of their necks. "You've worked hard, haven't you?" Richard pulled out an apple and began to slice it before feeding each of them. The pair ate from his hands and looked up at him for more praise and attention before they were allowed to roam a little ways away.

"New guy, when do you want to take watch?"

"I don't," Richard said.

"I don't care if you don't," the serious looking youngster said, "I'm asking you when."

"I won't take watch at all," Richard said as he sipped his wine out of his wineskin, "I'm not getting paid to take watch."

The serious looking guy stared at him. "Is that so?" He marched off to speak with the merchant, and after confirming such a thing, he walked back to his group. He returned a short while later.

"Alright, we have our watches sorted out," he said. "Pitch up tent near the merchant so we don't have to split our focus."

"You don't have to worry about me," Richard said. "Though if it makes your work easier, I'll pitch up beside the merchant."

"Thank you," he said.

"You're a serious youngster, aren't you?"

"In this line of work, I think being serious works better."

"I can see how you could think that."

"You're serious as well," the young man said.

Richard smiled. "Am I?"

"You have checked the perimeter with your eyes, and know just how far the river is from us. I've seen your eyes and ears shift around for them."

Richard remained smiling. "You're observant."

"I try to be."

"Why?"

"I don't want to die."

"Ah… someone back home?"

"No."

Richard raised his brows. "No?"

The young man shook his head.

"So why are you so unwilling to die?"

The young man looked at the flames. "Is that not normal?"

"It is, but there seems to be something else."

The youngster nodded his head. "I… I would like a family one day, once I'm done adventuring."

Richard smiled. He nodded his head and looked into the flames himself.

"Do you have a family?" the young man asked as he looked back to Richard.

Richard continued to stare into the flames. "I have a wife."

"Any children?"

Richard shook his head. "Not yet, she's…" He paused for a long moment. "She's a mage."

"Ah."

"Yes."

The pair shared a long moment of silence, the inaudible grief coming from the youngster accompanied them. For everyone knew what it was like to be married to a mage, for every mage believed themselves to be the greatest in all regards.

Apprentices found their masters old and too conservative for their tastes, and the older masters found their apprentices too liberal with their ways. Yet it was only a balance of these that truly allowed life to be in the way that it was, what with its delicious fruits aplenty, its ups and downs, and turns this way and that way.

Still, a mage wife, that was a new level of tension. Women were rarely mages of any kind, for the seed of magic to grow within a woman was a long and arduous process, but whenever that seed bloomed, the magic that a woman possessed shadowed even the light-singers of the east, with the way they sung and wooed magic to their very whims.

In fact Esmeralda of the Noon, who did rule of the light-singers and the bronze-skinned Nimmineans to the east, from the golden mountains of Aza'ii, to the fertile river valley of the Ambol, where the highly tempered iron-skinned Jovv, she was a powerful sorceress of great renown, ruling for almost half a century now, and would do so for a half century more.

"Alright, well I'm going to hit the hay then," Richard said as he waved his hand. He wasn't feeling sleepy, but he didn't want to keep the others on edge with him still up and about.

The younger nodded and Richard slipped into his tent. He then reached up and pulled a cord before the world around him transformed. He was now in a small room, with a bed, a small kitchen, and a small bathroom that he could use to shower and attend to the more delicate matters too.

He rolled over onto the sheets and then took a long whiff of them. Fresh as the ocean, as it always was. It was times like these where he was glad for his mage wife, even if the price to pay for such an item was a little too great sometimes.

Yet his thoughts then fell to the bread that was only a moment away, and so he gathered himself out of his bed to go and  make some bread for himself. He was sure the others would appreciate the bread, but they probably would ask questions about it.

Oh well, the more bread for him.