Chương 11: No Sleep

pation. Unfortunately for her, her fears came true. Despite Gemma's quiet, sleepy breathing on the far side of the bed, Bella slept not a wink the entire night. Fortunately for her, this body did not need that much sleep. But after the shocking morning revelations, the events in the bathhouse, being trapped into dinner with actual nobility, and then a full night staring at the ceiling trying to not move a single muscle, Bella's nerves were frayed to the utmost. It's only been a single day!

I'm taking a gods-damned nap today, she thought to herself as she slipped from the bed and tugged out some clothes from her storage. Today's outfit was a little more gracefully put together than the revealing dress from yesterday: a long skirt dyed a dark forest green that fell to her ankles in soft cotton. It was paired with a deeply purple blouse gathered at the edges of its quarter length sleeves.

The blouse was held in place with a leather bodice that had delicate embossing of deer and other forest animals on its panels. As she laced the bodice together her eyes drifted towards Gemma, still sleeping soundly on the far side of the bed. She always did say she slept like a rock. A small smile crept onto the catkin's face and she watched the blankets gently rise and fall with her breathing, admired the glitter of golden hair sparkling in the first rays of morning sun.

A slight flush crept into her cheeks and she shook her head to dispel it. She closed the door behind her carefully and quietly as she snuck out of the room. Downstairs, a familiar little girl greeted her. The young innkeeper's daughter, Joane, bounced on the balls of her feet, face split in half by her smile.

"Hi miss Bella! Are you ready for breakfast go have a seat I'll get mom thanks!" She was bolting to the kitchen door before Bella could even form a response. Lacking the opportunity to reply, the catkin shook her head and slipped into one of the chairs at a corner booth of the inn's dining room. Her forehead rested against her hands and her eyes slid shut in a facsimile of rest. Soon a platter thumping onto the table awoke her from her daze and she glanced up at the half-orc innkeeper.

"Thanks, Khudu." The woman just grunted in response, as if she recognized Bella's desire for solitude. She gave the briefest nod before vanishing back into the kitchen, bringing Joane with her. Bella appreciated it. Almost as much as she appreciated the mountain of food before her. Crusty brown bread fresh from the oven, eggs served scrambled with diced vegetables mixed into them, and thick sausages ready to burst competed for space on her tray.

The whole thing was ringed once again by the same spiky fruits as the morning before. She was halfway done with her meal when Gemma finally came down the staircase to join her. The catkin smiled faintly at her companion before tucking back in to her food. A brow raised, Gemma settled into her own chair with a quiet 'good morning' and watched Bella eat until another platter showed up in the hands of little Joane, deposited with as much enthusiasm as ever.

They shared the silence until both had finally eaten their fill. Breakfast nor Gemma's company wasn't enough to soothe her frustrations from the night… but it did help. With a heaving sigh, Bella pushed out of her seat and ran her fingers through her hair, combing out what was already laying smoothly in a sort of soothing ritual.

"We should get going," she said halfheartedly. Most of her wanted to crawl back into bed, cover her head with blankets, and sleep the day away. The rest of her wanted to test out her magic. Thankfully for the farming village, the latter won out. They spent a few moments settling up their bills with Khudu and promised Joane they'd stay there again if they were ever in town. Then they stepped outside to face the sunrise.

It was still chilly from the night before, the cold hanging in the air as a reminder summer had yet to set in. Bella sighed quietly and pulled a cloak from her storage and it draped over her shoulders, its dark green wool thick and warm. In the game it had provided little in terms of stat boosts, but its item description had detailed a series of enchantments layered into the cloth that boasted ever-present warmth and infallible rainproofing. She was grateful that the enchantments carried true now.

Next to her, Gemma watched with a small amount of amusement and satisfaction. The elven paladin was dressed similar to her attire from the day before, a simple set of tunic and breeches. The outfit was hardly appropriate attire for the cold and yet she was seemingly unaffected. It took too long for Bella to realize that she could have just cast a spell to keep herself protected from any sort of environmental temperature. Some habits, like dressing more warmly, were hard to break. Her nose wrinkled with frustration.

Hardly the proper actions of an archmage. Still, personal comfort had been achieved, she turned towards the presence that was waiting anxiously beside the door to the inn. The same nervous-looking guard that had interrupted dinner the night before was standing beside a bored looking horse, shivering slightly despite his heavy cloak. He was wringing his hands anxiously, watching the adventurers like they might leap into action without warning.

Once they'd turned towards him he bowed deeply, bent until he was practically parallel with the ground.

"M-my ladies! I, uhm, am Harold. I am to join you, ah, on your journey to Greensheaf?" The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Gemma stepped forward and nodded in greetings, for which Bella was incredibly grateful.

"Well met, Harold. Considering the situation, it is probably best we leave immediately. Lead the way." The elf gestured forward, indicating for him to start on.

"Ah. Yes, uhm. Right away, my Ladies, once you have your bags and horses?" Harold seemed uneasy, as if they might snap at him for daring to make requests. Bella cracked a faint smile, which only made the guardsman wring his hands even more.

"We're fine, Harold," the catkin chuckled without providing any further explanation.

"Lead on." The young man opened his mouth to protest, seemed to think better of it, and nodded obsequiously.

"As you wish, my ladies." He carefully untethered his horse from the hitching post in front of the inn and mounted with practiced efficiency. Pointedly looking nowhere but forward, he gave his mount a gentle nudge and clopped down the street. After a look behind her at the Witch's Flagon, Bella shook her head and joined Gemma in following the guard out the gate. It wasn't long before the cobblestone road ran out and turned into dirt, which quickly melted into mud under their boots as the day warmed up.

About at the same pace the patchwork of farms that clung to Elkstone's walls turned into deep forest, the same untouched old growth that spread deep across the unexplored lands to their west. Conversation was stilted. Bella was in no mood to give more than short answers, and Harold seemed far too nervous to be in the presence of the two heroes to do more than stammer. Eventually Gemma felt forced to lapse into silence, but not before insisting they increase their pace.

Harold could only comply, uneasy, and urged his horse into a gentle trot. The adventurers kept up easily, jogging alongside the horse and never running out of breath. It took just under three hours to reach their destination. Bella could see the smoke curling from behind roughhewn palisade walls off in the distance as they approached. The wooden gates were closed, as if they could stop a full tribe of trolls, and a handful of farmers-turned-militia milled about in the crude watchtower behind it.

They spoke in hushed tones, as if any noise could cause a disaster. The villagers watched them approach warily but opened and ushered them through as quickly as they could. Luckily there's no troll trying to sneak in with us, Bella thought wryly. Harold, thankfully, had grown up in Greensheaf before moving to Elkstone. He organized a runner to fetch the mayor and led the adventurers, plus an ever-growing crowd of nervously whispering villagers, towards the mud-and-grass clearing that passed for a village square.

Bella allowed herself a small groan as her fingers laced together and stretched towards the sky, causing her back to pop satisfyingly a few times. Around them clustered pockets of nervous villagers, whispering amongst each other in concern at the sight of a lone guardsman and the two young women that were supposed to fight off an entire tribe of corrupted trolls. Thankfully they gave plenty of distance, which suited Bella's mood just fine. The monotony of their travel hadn't helped improve things.

She loved being out in the woods, but hours of leaving bootprints on muddy roads and staring at an endless sea of trees could only be so exciting. They hadn't even been accosted by bandits that vastly underestimated them! What a waste of a staple trope. Although I shouldn't trivialize that too much. She knew vividly the other half of that trope, defeating a bunch of people in combat and then realizing with horror that they were actual people and having to deal with the consequences.

She sighed, heavy, deciding that such quandaries were a problem for future-Bella. Her fingers combed through her hair again as she glanced at Gemma. The mayor had just arrived before her with the runner. He was a ruddy-faced dwarf in clothes far too fine to suit the mud-daub walled homes that surrounded him. His hair was slicked down with oil and jewelry adorned with glass beads clung to his neck a little too tightly.

Every ounce of him carried unwarranted arrogance, and indignance rolled from him in a haze, which she assumed from his ranting was at the idea that only two adventurers had been sent out to protect his town rather than the Countess's army. Gemma, for her part, was doing her best to placate the obstinate man, but even from here Bella could see the frustration creeping into the lines around her eyes, marring the face that should carry a warm smile. This is a waste of time. I could be napping.

She stomped over to the mayor and smashed her staff down into the ground of the village square with a thunderous KRA-KOOM that split the air louder than any storm ever could. The mayor and Harold both stumbled back several steps, hands covering their ears and eyes shooting open in panic. Villagers scrambled back, darting towards cover. Gemma just rolled her eyes at Bella's antics but didn't say anything. Apparently, she had been close to her limit too.

"Point us to those blasted trolls. If we're insufficient, we die and you go back to Bart for your army. If not, your problem is solved." The dwarven man's face grew redder by the second and he seemed ready to unleash a tirade before noticing Harold. The guardsman was standing behind Bella and Gemma, looking horrified and shaking his hands frantically in an attempt to dissuade the mayor from doing so. With an audible clack the mayor snapped his mouth shut and curled his lips back in his best attempt at a smile.

It clearly came out as a sneer.

"Fine. It's your lives and the Lord's taxes at stake. They were spotted in the forest behind the Jorgannsens' farm. Follow the western road until you hit the field at the end of the timber." Bella didn't even deign to respond; she spun on her heel and started marching in that direction. Gemma had the grace to murmur an apology on the catkin's behalf and offer some assurances – and a comment to not mind any explosions - before following her.

Per their agreement, Harold stayed in the village and out of their way, clearly uncomfortable about, well, everything that had just happened.