The first thing the lady had said once they climbed to the back of the carriage was her name.
"Melissa Hill. I usually run a tavern near the center of Serene Harbour."
A tavern. A ticket—something that they so desperately needed at the moment. Grace looked at Miller for a moment, his eyes glancing over at the Golden Eye that he had.
Due to it being in the possession of Miller, one would not be able to observe its artifact window information if he did not grant it to them—consciously and unconsciously.
Fortunately, Miller had unconsciously permitted them to see its information.
[Truth Seeker]
[Grade: 7]
[Description: They witnessed 'her.' A figure, with each step, creating imaginary strokes of gold. When 'her' figure dispersed—they saw it. An eye that, too, sparkled like gold.]
[Effect: Look into the future. A possibility. Or a certainty. One time use.]
To look into the future—Grace wondered, how would it look. His eyes drew away, pulled by the horizon that stretched beyond the canvas.
This world was a novel; he did not read it, but he knew for certain that there was a danger inevitable, lurking.
It could strike at any moment, the moment their guards were lifted—when the fuel of victory diminished, vanquishing into nothingness.
Could he be lax?
He wasn't the protagonist, as well he was ignorant to the extent of his importance to the story. But, just as much he thought this, Grace knew full well the truth that was unmistakably resounding in his bones.
Stillness was not something he can truly embed. As it would prove to not only be useless for him to do, but also serves as a contradiction.
Without the strength — as a Walker — he would not live.
And that was what mattered.
To live.
Melissa broke the silence, her eyes momentarily drawing to them before looking back upfront.
"You three look like you got out of some dungeon," she spoke plainly. "That, or I just let in some dirty bandit thugs onto my wagon."
There was no laugh. Not even a soft chuckle—perhaps the soft gust of wind was sufficient in replacing it.
Grace broke the silence.
"We were held captive by Gabe Laughlin."
Melissa widened her eyes.
"The Gabe Laughlin?"
That infamous figure that plagued the eastern forest of Serene Harbor. He had planted himself into their society just a year ago, though he never made any outlandish moves except for the monopolization of the eastern-most side of the eastern forest.
"How? How did you escape?"
For moment, there was only silence. Grace wondered if the others would say it—they didn't. He went on ahead, speaking for them.
"His fortress—a dungeon formed in the middle of it and it swallowed us into it. We managed to complete the dungeon, but Gabe had died in the process of fighting a dungeon entity."
David had informed him of Gabe's fate in a whisper hours ago. How he had essentially been slain by a mage who wielded great fire.
And how, even if Miller hadn't finished him off with unrestrained brutality, his fate had been exacted.
"And you three," her face scanned them momentarily before looking back to the road. "Escaped that same dungeon?" She finished.
She could not see it, but Grace nodded his head on a whim.
"Yes," he responded. "Although we did hide and run for a majority of it." Melissa hummed.
"And you added that last part—why?"
"We were snakes," Grace told. "But we are not liars." Melissa did not respond, letting the silence of the words that Grace spoke settle amongst the clattering of the wagon.
"Alright. I'll believe you."
However, they knew—one wrong move and that belief would shatter in an instant.
"Where are you guys from anyway? Here?" Melissa asked them.
"I was born in Ergo. Central City." Grace turned to David and Miller. "I don't know about these two, though."
For the amount of time they had spent with each other the past week, much of their knowledge regarding each other was very much surface level.
Miller's eyes flickered, his gaze gaining luster.
"Miller Turner. Countryside of Ergo. The western side."
Grace and David perked up slightly.
"So you're familiar with the mountains, yeah?" David asked.
Miller's eyes — softly, quietly, slowly — flickered to David, who was right beside him. He proceeded to nod sluggishly.
"Somewhat," he responded. "I haven't climbed to the top, but I know my way around the base of the mountain. Though I've never gone too far out north, beyond the train station."
The train station… Grace sifted through his memories, recalling the information that unveiled what this train station was if he had any knowledge of it.
And he did.
His thoughts shifted from the blankness of a canvas, to the words of his history teacher that explained the existence of this train.
The World Trains. The word rolled from his imaginary tongue that existed in his mind quite nicely.
The World Trains was a mana-powered train system created by the first emperor of the Jade Family. It connected all of the continents together, with the eternal protection spells of the highest order planted on the entirety of the train and rails.
It was the main transportation system that everyone used universally.
However, a majority of the islands — the ones that had erected after the creation of the trains — can only be traversed to via sailing. While attempts could be made to extend the trains to these islands, there was a problem.
There was yet to be a person who could fully decipher the incantation for the protection spell in order to recreate it. Without anyone to recreate it, extending the trains was impossible.
David turned his head to Melissa.
"David Plor. Born and raised in Ergo. Just in the northern outskirts of Central City."
Grace said nothing, slowly turning his head away into the distant horizons once again. But, inwardly, the words sung quietly into his head like a careful thread.
The northern outskirts... Grace couldn't help but frown.
The northern outskirts was just a fancy way of saying: the slums. Deep in his memories, Grace was able to catch a glimpse of what the slums looked like—a disastrous place.
Dilapidated structures that could compete with the dilapidated fortress that the cohort were just in. The constant smell of old metal—rusted, and barely able to hang on to their dear lives.
Grace leaned back, the back of his head brushing against the wood that surrounded them.
"Grace Walker of the Walker Family. Born and raised in Central City."
The following discussion incited by Melissa went about as expected—the wonder, the surprise, and the confusion of him being in this sort of predicament despite his royal status.
Regardless—
The passage of time continued onward, light chatter flooding the wagon as the four discussed amongst one another. The air around them — once tense, terribly tight like a screw — had eased slightly, the soft expressions of smiles and occasional chuckles escaping them.
"We're almost here—Serene Harbor."
Like mindless minions, the three instinctively looked outside of the wagon. The first thing they witnessed was the ocean. The dark-navy swaying back and forth like a rocking chair.
Next was the main attraction—Serene Harbor.
Surrounded by stone walls that was the size of two tree put on top of each other. From their point of view — a steep hill — they were able to see a slither of the actual town resort.
Brick buildings, some of which were almost half the height of the walls. Further down, they saw the street lamps and the faint figures of men and women on carriages.
For the first time in his new life, Grace was entering civilization.