This isn’t what I expected.
The Warrior village is truly small, affirming everything that I’ve read on it. It’s a little place that has a single town nestled along the single main road, the rest of it surrounded by the Black Forest and not used for anything else. The buildings here look like small cottages and barely rise above two stories in height, while half of them don’t even look lived-in or used. Yes, there’s some cottages with smoke rising from their chimneys, and yes there’s a few torches lining the road that I saw from the bend, but everything else about this village is just eerily quiet, the lack of people and presence mind-boggling.
I shake my head as we ride down the single road and stare in stupor at the small village. If this the first thing that foreign travelers see when they cross into our Kingdom from the west, then it’s the most humblest of places to ever greet them. Fumagalli has no gated walls surrounding the village and no outposts or soldiers to stand as lookout or greet those coming in. In fact, the only two people I’ve seen walking by are well into their elderly age.
So where is everybody?
There’s no commotion in this village. No drunken ballads being sang behind pub doors or any neighbors going for a walk. There’s just a long road with cozy buildings that are already turned down for the night, thepeople here,wherever they are,having no desire to disrupt that calming aura.
Our ride takes us towards another single-story cottage, this one spreading long in width and hosting five windows on each side of a single wooden door. This must be the inn we’re staying at, though by the looks of it, our traveling group will be occupying all of the rooms.
A stable boy comes out to greet us when we ride into the courtyard. He runs to the Princes first and takes their reins, the brothers shouldering their travel packs as everyone else starts to dismount. I take my time with Millie at the back of the group and wait for the boy to situate everyone else’s horses first, then walk my girl to the side of the stables to take a look at the Black Forest beyond. It’s deserted and quiet, pitch black. There really isn’t much to the village if you venture off the main road.
“Miss?”
I turn and smile at the young boy who looks exhausted.
“I have your stall ready.”
His hand reaches out in a command for Millie’s reins, the gesture too mature for his age.
“Thank you, young one,” I smile again, handing them over.
The boy nods and leads the way into the stables.
“Where is everyone?” I ask.
“Everyone?”
“The townspeople. Or is the village always this quiet at night?”
The boy’s lips tip into a small grin, “it’s always quiet day and night, miss, and we’re okay with that around here.”
I chuckle at the proud tone in his voice.
“What about things to do? Is there anything notable here to see?”
“Do and see?” he looks back in confusion.
“Any attractions or places in this village that stand out or are worth a visit?”
The boy quickly shakes his head and stares straight ahead, “not here, miss. We’re a small town. Nothing special or attractive here.”
His reply makes me frown.
“This stall, miss,” he leads us to an empty space for Millie.
I hand him a cinerin in farewell and take my time getting Millie settled in for the night.
“Rest up, girl,” I pat her neck with a yawn.
Millie snorts at my back when I leave the stables. I yawn again and walk towards the inn, uncorking Golem’s jar in the process. The magical creature meets me at the front door and stares at the building, both of us looking it over in quiet assessment.
“It’s older,” I ponder, “built of standard stone and wood like the rest of the village. In fact, I haven’t seen any black granite since we’ve arrived…”
Golem’s eyes flick to the main road and the small town beyond, nodding in agreement.
“An old and defenseless Warrior village,” I look at him quietly, “does that seem right to you, Golem?”
