Chapter 12: The Starboy And The Merchants

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"You are safe."

The wind seemed to work with Enel, blowing the winds along with his red cape as he stood in front of the scared citizens of Aldwyn.

The older gentleman who'd been swinging his cane finally dropped it. He took one final glance at Enel, then bowed so deeply that his silk coat almost touched the bloodied ground.

It did touch it, but only the smallest and most stubborn of dirt remained on his garments—anything else just slid down from how soft and smooth it was.

“Hero,” he said, voice shaking. “Hero, you saved us.”

“I am not a hero,” Enel said, sheathing his sword as he glanced at the woman still pressing a cloth to a bleeding man. “Please tend to the wounded.”

That woke the others from their shock, and they quickly rushed to help the woman. The younger man dropped his knife and nearly collapsed beside the guard, and Enel could also hear people crying inside the coach.

The older gentleman, however, stayed bowed.

"Good sir, that is enough." Enel motioned for him to get up, but the old man wasn't budging.

"Let me do this, please. Had... had you not come, we would have—" His voice cracked, which only made him almost hit his forehead on the soiled ground. "Oh... My name is Ulric Goldhand, Hero! I am a humble merchant of Aragos. Whatever you ask, whatever repayment is within my power, I will give it!"

"Please, Goodsir Goldhand." Enel started to crouch, which immediately made Ulric get on his feet.

"Again, I am not a hero," Enel said. "I am from House Blackwood of Widow's Wall, his Baron Robert's son."

"Widow..." Ulric's face changed.

Enel didn't notice this shift, but he did notice the younger man behind Ulric.

How could he not? The young man's eyes widened, his face slightly twisting—the very same subtle expression everyone had when mentioning his city.

"Widow's Wall?" the young man muttered. "That place filled with begga—"

"Ivar!" Ulric raised his voice, quickly lowering his apprentice's head.

Ulric turned back to Enel, his smile returning. “Forgive us, Lord Blackwood.”

Enel ignored them, then looked toward the wounded man. The other uninjured guard was now the one pressing his wounds, while the woman was now writing in the air.

[Tidefather, lend me your divine breath and heal the servant in front of you.]

The smokey words lit up, turning blue.

"A Priest," Enel whispered, in awe as he watched the woman grabbed the words. The other guard removed his hand, and she quickly plastered the words onto the gaping wound—the words wrapped around the gash, compressing and closing the wound as it did so.

It didn't take long for the man's complexion to return to normal, and his Breath returned to him.

“Esteemed Priestess." Enel approached them, bowing his head to the woman. "Is he... able?"

"With help, M'lord." The priestess also bowed.

“Then we should return you to the road," Enel said, passing by the priestess... and then casually lifting one side of the coach with a single hand. "Your coach is broken, but I am sure the caravan can help."

"This..." Everyone's eyes turned even wider as they saw Enel pull the coach by himself with ease. Ulric stared at this in bewilderment for a moment, then quickly motioned for his people to follow, while he chased and walked beside him.

"House Goldhand will remember this, Your Lordship," he said to Enel, his head still lowered. "We will send gold, grain, food—whatever House Blackwood requires."

“That is not necessary.”

“But it is, M'lord!" Ulric raised his voice. Pleading, almost.

Enel tilted his head.

Ulric lowered his voice. “Please allow an old merchant to repay a debt. If not for you, then for the people under your banner. Widow's Wall."

Enel was quiet for a moment, then nodded.

“Thank you. Our people, as I am being made aware of in my journey, are... in need.”

"No, no! Thank you, M'lord." Ulric's relief was obvious. “Thank you, Lord Blackwood. Thank you...

...House Goldhand and all of its family will never forget this debt.”

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"Tiny!"

By the time they reached the road, Ulf and Tiny were preparing to enter the woods. Ulf had his sword drawn, while Tiny had a... stick.

“M-m’lord!” Tiny ran toward him, then stopped when he saw the blood on Enel’s sword and the people following behind him. “You… found the people.”

“Yes.”

Ulf stared at the rescued travelers, then at Enel.

“Of course you did,” he muttered. "I'll tell the conductor to leave some men to send help."

"Ah! Please, let Ivar come with you to introduce us." Ulric pushed his apprentice, and Ulf just smirked as he motioned for the boy to come.

"Goodsir Goldhand," Enel turned to Ulric as Ulf and Ivar had gone. "I believe this is where we part ways. We are on our way to war, I do not wish to delay these honorable people any further."

"The war...?" Ulric looked past him. His eyes moved across the carts, the recruits, the tired horses, and finally back to Enel. Then he bowed his head.

“Then the war will surely end once you reach the battlefield. Together with Lord Commander Duncan, your strength together would wipe out the barbarians.”

"I... do not wish to wipe out the barbarians." Enel shook his head. "They are people, too. They have innocents waiting for them at their home."

"That..." Ulric was taken aback, literally. He lost his Breath for a moment, and a smile gently came to his face. "Of course, M'lord. It is as you say."

"Hmn." Enel nodded. "May the Sovereign keep you safe from further harm, Good Sir."

"And may the Tydfaer guide your path and wash away your enemies, M'lord."

Enel nodded, then returned to the cart and climbed on. Tiny quickly followed suit.

"Continue!" Enel commanded.

Several drivers stared at him. Then, slowly, the caravan started moving again. They passed by Ulf ahead, who jumped onto the cart.

For a while, no one spoke. The cart rolled forward, leaving the broken coach behind as a few of them remained to help Ulric's group.

Soon, the trees thinned again, and the road turned rougher. It wasn't until someone spat loudly from another cart that Ulf broke the silence.

“I know that man.”

"Who?" Enel turned to him. “Ulric ? You are friends with the good merchant?”

“No.” Ulf leaned back against the cart. “No one is just friends with the Goldhand. They're the wealthiest family in the east, or close enough to it.”

"What?" Tiny’s head snapped toward Enel. "That's... convenient. M'lord."

“Yes?”

“You got something from him, right?”

“His gratitude, although not needed."

“Yes, but did you get something?”

“He offered to visit Widow’s Wall.”

"Did you get something? You, M'lord."

“I told him it was not necessary.”

"Ah..." Tiny looked like he had been stabbed. “M’lord. When extremely wealthy men offer to repay you, it is polite to let them.”

“I did let him.”

"Ulf." Tiny looked at Ulf for help.

Ulf only shrugged. “He’s your lord.”

Tiny sighed and looked at the sky as if asking the gods for strength.

The journey continued until the light began to dim. Soon, the trees opened again, and the caravan began to slow as a traveler’s inn appeared near the road. It was much larger than the tavern in Riverdown, with stables on one side, several carts parked outside, and smoke rising from two chimneys.

Travelers stood around the yard. Adventurers too, judging by their weapons and badges.

"Woah..." Enel looked at them in awe, but quickly closed his mouth and straightened his back before anyone could notice. Ulf, however, surely noticed and just snorted.

Tiny told him that Enel was thirteen, and he couldn't believe it at first—but with how he'd been acting when he thought no one was looking, he was now inclined to believe he could even be younger.

"These people have come from all over the kingdom." Enel’s eyes moved across them quickly... then stopped.

Near the entrance of the traveler’s inn, laughing with cups in their hands, stood several men wearing the colors of Duke Gawen.

The soldiers of the duke.

Enel’s hand slowly curled into a fist.

Tiny, who had been staring at the inn while holding his stomach, immediately noticed this. His eyes followed Enel’s gaze, and when he saw the soldiers, his shoulders jumped all the way to his ears.

“M’lord,” Tiny whispered. “Maybe we should… eat first?”

Enel didn't respond and started walking toward the soldiers. But Ulf stepped in front of him, carefully resting his hand over his shoulder.

"Nothing good will happen to confronting the duke's soldiers."

"I am not confronting them," Enel whispered. "I wish merely to speak with them."

Ulf looked at the back of Enel's head for a moment, then let him go. Tiny still wanted to stop him, but Ulf blocked him with his arm.

The men were laughing about something, but their laughter weakened as soon as they noticed Enel approaching. And one look at Enel, they knew he was a highborn. They gazed down, and seeing the old, faded insignia scratched across his chest, the two straightened their backs at the same time.

“M'lord,” one of them said, lowering his cup.

The others who were further back followed, some faster than the rest. None of them kneeled, but all of them dipped their heads enough to show they knew what he was.

Enel stopped in front of them. “You are soldiers of Duke Gawen?”

“Yes, M'lord.” The first soldier looked at the others, then back at Enel. He was older than the rest, with a trimmed beard and tired eyes.

“I am looking for two people,” Enel said. “Gregor, butcher of Widow’s Wall. And Ansel, brother of the great warrior Lamb. They were taken for the war a few nights since."

“W-Widow’s Wall, M'lord?” The soldier looked at his companion, and his companion just squinted and subtly shook his head.

"Afraid I wouldn't know, M'lord." The soldier rubbed his chin. “We are not part of the war efforts."

"Not... part of the war effort?" Enel also squinted. "Guards of the realm, then?"

"Y-yes, M'lord!"

Enel looked at them, and the others behind them for a moment.

"Very well," he nodded. "I apologize for taking your time of leisure. Carry on, men."

"Gratitudes, M'lord!" They all straightened up and saluted. "May the Sovereign guide your road, M'lord!"

“And yours,” Enel answered. He turned around, lightly flipping his cape as he returned to Tiny and Ulf. "To the inn, gentlemen!"

"Ugh... finally." Tiny once again rubbed his stomach as he followed Enel in. Ulf, on the other hand, stayed behind and glanced back at the soldiers, turning his ear toward them.

"That... was the heir of Widow's Wall? I heard they had one, but I haven't seen him."

"He's looking for his people? But...

...aren't most of the Widow's Wall lot dead?"

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