We walk along the stone-paved road that will lead us all the way to the high town of Ravos. The road passes between two steep hills, their yellow rocks sharp and sparsely covered with small green bushes. The sky is cloudy, casting a thick shadow over us, but no rain falls yet. We frequently pass travelers and traders journeying south to Nirip. Most of them are friendly. The trader who took me—the one Tigo paid—is named Tork. He seems to know most of the traders we encounter, waving at them and sometimes even stopping the whole group for a brief chat with what appear to be old friends. The three other traders traveling with him are his younger cousins, who accompany him to learn the art of trading in Ravos. One of them mentions that it's his first time traveling north on this road.
The traders keep their distance, rarely starting a conversation with me or Aiul, who walks alongside me. They prefer to chat with Tork. The three guards—one in front and two in the back—remain silent, barely uttering a sound. They only look annoyed when Tork makes us stop. Lightly armored with only chain mail chest plates, they've tied their steel helmets to their hips. The two guards behind eye my sword and Aiul's with wary glances.
Aiul is not the silent type. He hasn't stopped talking throughout this entire expedition. I like him, but sometimes he can be quite annoying. When I asked him why he was heading north, he told me he wants to become a royal knight—guardian of the Emperor himself. His parents were soldiers, and he aspires to be like them. His sword, secured at his haunch, is shorter, duller, and heavier than mine. "Your sword must be quite costly," he tells me, attracting greedy looks from Tork and his cousins. During our lunch break, he proposes a sword duel using wooden sticks we find on the ground. He wins every duel we have. His swings are fast and coordinated, while mine feel slow and clumsy. He moves lightly on his toes, always dodging my strikes. "You swing like a farmer," he smirks mischievously each time he wins, before challenging me again. I really hate losing, but I cannot back down from his challenges.
I'll win eventually.
The road ahead begins to rise after being flat for some time. Tork ties one of the remaining two horses to the long carriage, fearing that just one will not be enough and the carriage will slide down the incline.
"Let's tie the last horse too," suggests the cousin who is traveling for the first time. "Just to be safe…"
"It is safe," Tork replies, visibly annoyed. "I've topped this rise a thousand times. Did we not go with just two horses the last time?" He glances at the other cousins, seeking their nods of agreement.
The clouds darken, and the air begins to smell like rain. It's wise to tie a third horse. The pavement becomes slippery when wet, which could cause the horses to slip and send the carriage crashing down the rocks, damaging the goods inside. If that happens, we'll have to turn back to Nirip. I cannot go back. Fearing this will happen, I step forward, urging Tork to tie the last horse.
"You are not here to share your opinion, child," he hisses angrily, wrinkling his nose. I fall back, working my jaw in frustration. He will want my help when the carriage tumbles and breaks. I will not help him.
We are halfway to the top when the rain begins to pour. The water soaks our clothes, making them heavier. Drops trickle down from my forehead into my eyes, making it harder to see. The angle of the road tires my legs, causing them to ache. It's not long before my boots fill with water, and I start to slip. Aiul falls a couple of times, soiling his face, palms, and clothes with the dirt and sand that have gathered between the wet paving stones. When he gets up, he spits mud from his mouth. The guards anchor themselves with their long spears, sticking them into the road's gaps. They remain silent, showing no signs of weariness, while Tork and his cousins curse at the rain unstoppingly, even begging it to stop. This rain takes me back to my father's farm—my old home. We always welcomed rain there. Not only does it water the ground and enrich the soil, but it also refreshed our sunburned shoulders and cooled our heads, filling us with life. My brother and I loved playing in the rain, not caring how muddy we got. But those times are gone now. The rain, once my friend, has now become an obstacle.
"We are almost there," Aiul says hopefully, shielding his eyes with his hands so he can look ahead. He clings to the carriage, trying to support himself after falling multiple times. I wave my hands, signaling him to stop; he's making the carriage heavier, increasing the chances of the horses tripping. He doesn't understand my gesture and continues to hold on. I shout at him to remove his hand, but before he can do so, one of the horses stumbles. Thankfully, the horse doesn't fall. The moment Aiul pulls his hand back, he slips and falls again. I snort out a laugh at the sight before I slip and fall myself.
Aiul doesn't hesitate to laugh before standing up and offering me a hand.
We finally reach the top of the road, and we all take a big gasp of relief. The road ahead widens, becoming flat once more, and the horizon reveals the distant tall mountains. They are mighty, thrusting through the far gray clouds. This is our destination. The high town of Ravos sits atop those mountains. We are only three days away.
We stop at a shoulder on the side of the road, preparing to camp for the night. I hastily change into the clothes Tigo prepared for me. They are a little damp, but better than what I had before. Surprisingly, they fit me well. While the others change and prepare the camp, Aiul, still in his wet clothes, sits by the carriage, watching me with an energetic smile on his face.
Once I finally change, he approaches me. "Let's duel again!" he says, gripping a stick in his right hand.