The caravan arrived at mid-morning, right on schedule.
Elias stood at the edge of the village square, his new pack sitting heavy on his shoulders, his short sword belted awkwardly at his hip. He'd spent the last hour saying goodbye to neighbors who'd known him his entire life, accepting advice he'd probably forget and well-wishes he wouldn't.
Now he watched as three large wagons rolled into Millbrook, pulled by sturdy draft horses and driven by people who looked like they'd seen every road in Valdris at least twice.
"That's them," his father said unnecessarily.
"Yeah." Elias's stomach was doing complicated things. Excitement, nervousness, fear—all mixed together into something he couldn't quite name.
The lead wagon came to a stop, and a woman hopped down from the driver's seat with practiced ease. She was maybe forty, with sun-weathered skin, dark hair pulled back in a practical braid, and the kind of build that suggested she could unload an entire wagon by herself if needed.
"Morning, Millbrook!" she called out cheerfully. "I'm Caravan Master Della. We're headed to Silvercrest, departing in about an hour. Anyone traveling with us, make yourselves known!"
Elias raised his hand, then felt foolish and lowered it. But Della had already spotted him and was walking over, her eyes taking in his new gear with an experienced glance.
"You're the Scout?" she asked.
"Uh, yes. Elias Thorne. Just awakened a few days ago."
"Fresh as they come, then." But she didn't sound dismissive, just matter-of-fact. "You paid your passage fee to Elder Miriam?"
"Yes, ma'am. Five silver."
"Good. You'll be riding in the third wagon with the other passengers. We've got two others joining us—a merchant heading home and a woman visiting family." She looked past Elias to where his family stood. "These your folks?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"You've got time for goodbyes. We need to load some supplies first. Just be ready to move when I call." She nodded politely to Marcus and Anna, then headed back to supervise the loading.
"She seems nice," Lily offered.
"She seems efficient," Marcus corrected. "Which is exactly what you want in a caravan master." He turned to Elias. "Last chance to change your mind, son."
"Not changing my mind."
"Didn't think so." Marcus pulled him into a hug—brief but tight. "Be smart out there. Trust your instincts. And remember: there's no shame in retreat."
"Yes, sir."
Anna hugged him next, and this time the tears flowed freely. "My baby boy," she whispered. "When did you grow up?"
"Ma—"
"I know, I know. You're seventeen and a Scout now and practically an adult." She pulled back, cupping his face in her hands. "But you'll always be my baby boy. Write to us. Please."
"I will. I promise."
"And eat properly. Don't just live on travel rations."
"I won't."
"And find a good inn, not some cheap place where you'll get robbed—"
"Anna," Marcus said gently. "He knows."
"I know he knows, but I'm his mother and I'm allowed to worry!" She pulled Elias into another fierce hug.
Lily had been hovering, uncharacteristically quiet. When Anna finally released Elias, his sister stepped forward.
"So," she said, and her voice was suspiciously thick. "This is it."
"This is it."
"You're really leaving."
"I'm really leaving."
For a moment, they just looked at each other. Then Lily threw herself at him, hugging him around the middle.
"I'm going to miss you so much," she said into his shirt.
"I'll miss you too." Elias hugged her back. "But I'll write. Every week if I can. And I'll tell you about everything I see."
"Even the boring stuff?"
"Even the boring stuff."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
She pulled back, swiping at her eyes. "You better. And when I'm older, I'm going to become an awesome mage and join you, and we'll have adventures together."
"Deal."
"Passengers, mount up!" Della's voice carried across the square. "We're moving out!"
This was it. Really it.
Elias shouldered his pack, gave his family one last look—his father stoic but proud, his mother crying, Lily trying not to cry—and walked toward the third wagon.
Two other passengers were already there. One was a portly man in merchant's clothes, fussing with an improbably large bag. The other was a woman in her thirties wearing traveling leathers, who gave Elias a polite nod as he approached.
"First time leaving home?" the woman asked.
Was it that obvious? "Yes, ma'am."
"Thought so. You've got that look." She smiled, not unkindly. "I'm Teresa. Heading to Silvercrest to visit my sister."
"Elias. Heading to Silvercrest to... well, to become an adventurer."
The merchant snorted. "Another one. The Guild's going to eat you alive, boy."
"Herman, be nice," Teresa chided. "We were all young and idealistic once."
"I was never that young or that idealistic," Herman grumbled, but he offered Elias a hand to shake. "Herman Wickes. Textile merchant. And I'm not trying to be cruel, just realistic. Adventuring's a hard life."
"I know," Elias said, climbing into the wagon. "But I'm going to try anyway."
The wagon bed was half-full of supplies, leaving just enough room for the three passengers to sit somewhat comfortably on benches along the sides. Elias claimed a spot and turned to look back at the square.
His family was still there, waiting.
"All right, people!" Della's voice rang out. "We're heading out! Next stop, Riverside Inn, about six hours down the road!"
The wagons lurched into motion.
Elias watched his family—his mother waving frantically, his father's hand raised in farewell, Lily jumping up and down despite her tears. He watched Millbrook's buildings roll past, the square where he'd been Awakened just days ago, the fields where he'd spent seventeen years learning to farm.
He watched it all grow smaller and smaller as the caravan rolled onto the main road.
And then they rounded a bend, and Millbrook disappeared behind the trees.
Elias turned forward, heart pounding, and looked at the road ahead.
It stretched out before them, wide and well-maintained, cutting through farmland that slowly transitioned to wilder country. In the distance, he could see hills rising up, covered in forest.
He'd never been more than a few miles from Millbrook in his entire life.
Now the world was opening before him.
"First time's always hard," Teresa said quietly. "Leaving home."
"Yeah," Elias managed.
"Gets easier. And the excitement helps." She smiled. "Where are you planning to start? The Guild?"
"That's the plan. Take some easy quests, build up experience and money."
"Smart. What's your class?"
"Scout. Just hit Level 1 a few days ago."
"Scout's good for starting out," Herman said, apparently deciding to be helpful now. "Lots of gathering quests for Scouts. Low danger, decent pay for beginners. You won't get rich, but you won't get dead either."
"That's... encouraging?"
Herman chuckled. "Kid, in adventuring, 'not dead' is encouraging. You remember that."
The conversation drifted to other topics—Herman's business in Silvercrest, Teresa's sister's new baby, the state of the roads this time of year. Elias listened with half an ear, but most of his attention was on the scenery rolling past.
Fields gave way to pastures, then to open countryside. They passed other travelers—farmers heading to market, a merchant caravan going the opposite direction, a group of adventurers who looked like they'd just come from a fight, all battered armor and tired faces.
Elias activated [Keen Eye] without thinking, trying to take in every detail.
"You're using a skill," Teresa observed.
"Oh—sorry, is that rude?" Elias deactivated it immediately.
"Not rude, just obvious. Your eyes were unfocused, looking through instead of at. Scout skill?"
"Keen Eye. Enhances vision."
"Useful. Keep practicing it. Skills grow through use."
"That's what everyone keeps telling me."
"Because it's true," Herman said. "I've got [Appraise Goods] at Level 34. Took me fifteen years to get it there. Use your skills every chance you get."
Elias reactivated [Keen Eye], this time consciously noting everything he saw. The way the wagon wheels left tracks in the packed dirt. The birds circling overhead. The slight movement in the bushes that was probably a rabbit.
His [Basic Tracking] skill seemed to tingle with interest at the tracks, trying to tell him things he didn't yet know how to interpret.
After an hour, the headache started. After ninety minutes, Elias had to stop.
Progress: Still thirty minutes before the skill became unbearable. But he was using it, training it, pushing the limits.
Level 1 wouldn't stay Level 1 forever.
---
They stopped for lunch by a small stream, the horses needing water and the passengers needing to stretch their legs. Della produced a small cookpot and started making a stew with practiced efficiency, and Elias found himself volunteering to help almost automatically.
"You cook?" Della asked.
"My mother's a Cook. I picked up the basics." Elias pulled out his own supplies. "I've got travel bread, some dried meat—"
"Save your supplies for later. We've got enough for the group." Della handed him a knife. "You can chop vegetables."
Elias activated [Basic Cooking]—he'd almost forgotten he had that skill—and set to work. The muscle memory was there, and the skill seemed to guide his hands just slightly, making the cuts more efficient.
"You've got the skill active," Della observed. "I can tell by the way you're holding the knife."
"Is it that obvious?"
"To someone who knows what to look for. What level?"
"Twelve. It's a general skill, not a class skill."
"Still useful. You'd be surprised how many adventurers neglect their general skills and then regret it when they're eating charred meat in a dungeon."
The stew came together quickly, and soon all the travelers were sitting around the small fire, eating and talking. The other wagon drivers joined them—two brothers named Tom and Bill who argued constantly but clearly cared for each other, and a quiet woman named Sara who seemed content to let the others do the talking.
Elias listened to their stories—tales of the road, of strange encounters and narrow escapes. Nothing dramatic, just the everyday experiences of people who traveled for a living.
"We once had a wheel break in the middle of nowhere," Tom was saying. "Took us six hours to fix it, and we lost half a day's travel."
"That's because you insisted you could fix it yourself," Bill countered. "I said we should wait for a proper craftsman—"
"And I was right! I fixed it!"
"It broke again the next day!"
Their bickering was good-natured, and Elias found himself smiling as he ate Della's surprisingly good stew.
This was nice. Different from home, but nice in its own way.
"All right, people, fifteen minutes and we're moving again!" Della called. "Drink water, do your business, and get ready to roll!"
---
The afternoon passed more slowly than the morning. The novelty of travel was wearing off, replaced by the reality of sitting in a wagon bed for hours. Elias's backside went numb. Then it started to hurt. Then it went numb again.
"First day's always the worst," Teresa said sympathetically. "Your body adjusts."
"How long does that take?"
"Few days, usually."
Elias groaned.
Herman laughed. "Welcome to travel, kid. It's not all adventure and glory. Mostly it's sore muscles and boredom."
But even the boredom couldn't completely dampen Elias's spirits. Because every mile of road was a mile farther from Millbrook. Every hill they crested revealed new vistas. Every turn brought new sights.
He was traveling. Actually traveling.
Late afternoon brought them to a proper road marker—a stone post with directions carved into it.
"Silvercrest: 87 miles," Elias read aloud.
"Four more days of travel," Della confirmed. "We'll reach Riverside Inn tonight, then Crossroads tomorrow, Timber Creek the day after, and Silvercrest by the fourth evening."
Four more days. Then the real adventure would begin.
As the sun started to sink toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, Della guided the caravan off the main road toward a large building that sat beside—true to its name—a river.
Riverside Inn was bigger than any building in Millbrook except maybe the communal barn. Two stories of solid construction, with light spilling from windows and smoke rising from multiple chimneys. The sound of conversation and laughter drifted out into the evening air.
"We're here!" Della announced. "Rooms are five copper a night if you want a bed, or you can sleep in the common room for two copper. Meals are extra. Be ready to leave at dawn."
Elias climbed down from the wagon, his legs protesting after hours of sitting. He stretched, looking around at the inn with wonder.
His first night away from home. His first night at a real inn.
The adventure was truly beginning.