I woke up as a rock in the road made the cart bounce. The cargo, piled in with me in the back of the cart, shifted in place, ruining my resting spot. Pulling my straw hat lower to block out the sun, I glanced toward the front of the cart. Sitting there was David, the friendly merchant who was nice enough to take me to Kent’s crossing. He whistled as he drove the cart through the hilly terrain.

The hills were still green from the last rain. Unlike Xalir, it rained often on this side of the Ruby Mountains. Three mountain ranges met in a circle surrounding Kent’s Crossing. The Emerald Mountains were to the northwest. The Ruby Mountains to the south. And my future destination, the Sapphire mountains, were in the northeast. 

The locals were outside enjoying the nice weather and beautiful scenery. Folks of all kinds waved at David as he commanded the beasts of burden forward. I pulled out my mandolin and strummed it lazily. Trying to get my fingers used to the motion. It had been a while since I last played.

David turned around to look at me. “Say, Mr. Benson, it’s a beautiful day today, isn’t it? Haven’t seen the hills this green since I was a boy.”

“And how long ago was that?” I asked.

“Longer than you can imagine I bet. ‘Course, I haven’t been in these parts in quite some time,” said David.

I glanced up at David’s face—long and pointy. One of the tell-tale signs of elvish ancestry. It was hard to say how much though. Pure elves didn’t usually live this far south. His brown eyes and red hair told me that he had at least some human, though that could also be signs of wood elf parentage. His large straw hat blocked his ears, so I couldn’t use that as a guide.

Without David, I could not have made the journey north to Kent’s Crossing. Walking up and down these hills and over the mountain would have killed me. I thought about Henry and Arienne and wondered how they were doing. Did they have to walk? Were they still alive? Then my thoughts turned to my family in Xalir. Once I arrived in town, I planned to send them a letter. No need for them to worry twice.

“How far to the next town, David?”

“Not too far now, Mr. Benson. A couple of hours at the most.”

I leaned back on the boxes that held David’s wares. My biggest worry about the journey was money. But it would hopefully be easy with my musical talents. My first stop would be the local tavern. Most towns had a tavern with a distinct lack of performers. At least, that’s what my old master Piopus used to tell me. If there was one thing that I knew, it’s that drunks love music. And where do drunks hang out? Drunks are always more than willing to spend a couple of pieces of gold for their new best friend. I grinned as I lowered my hat to block the sun again.

Kent’s Crossing was full of miners and their families. David planned to stay for a week to do business. I hadn’t asked about what he sold exactly, but it didn’t matter to me. We hadn’t made a deal to share our profits, so I had no problem with staying only a week. A week was plenty of time to learn where Henry and Arienne were in the Sapphire Mountains. Plus, most people ran out of money after a week of heavy tipping.

Going into the Sapphire Mountains without a plan was foolish. I wanted to run there immediately and try to find Henry and Arienne, but the mountains were too big. There were hundreds of caves and other holes in those mountains. Maybe someone in town knew the area and could become my guide.

As we rode into town, I tried to take in all the people and buildings. Most of the people walking through town were covered in a thick layer of soot. Their faces were permanently set in a frown. The air was thick with dirt from all the miners walking around. Each time we passed by someone I guessed to be a miner I unconsciously held my breath.

The buildings were two stories tall and made of brick. They had sloped ceramic roofs for water to run down. There wasn’t a clear distinction between where people lived and people worked. I guessed that most that owned a shop lived above their store. A thick layer of soot also covered the lower level of the buildings.

As I looked around, I remembered what Piopus used to say, ‘Sing to the culture.’ Mining songs weren’t uncommon, but they weren't my specialty. Statutes or churches were better signs of what music to perform. People loved heroes and they loved their gods. They especially loved hearing about them.

In Xalir, people loved to hear songs about the harvest deities. They didn’t like to hear me sing about them, but they rarely complained. At least, to my face. After a year of trying to perform at the tavern, I gave up. I hoped the people in Kent’s Crossing were less picky.

I thought I saw one church, but I couldn’t tell which deity it was for. The symbol hanging above the door was an apple, with a snake twisting around the fruit. I was so focused on looking around the town, I almost missed David talking to me.

“...And my cousin owns a house outside of town. That’s just one of the benefits of traveling this route. You couldn’t even imagine how lucky I am.”

“Yes, of course. Ah, I think I’ll get off here then,” I said pointing outside the cart.

David slowed the cart down in front of the town square. A large stone statue stood tall in the middle of town, depicting a bearded man holding a pickaxe. His other arm extended out, with his hand making a fist. For sure the founder of the town. People passed back and forth through the square. Some of them miners, others merchants.

“Don’t forget, one week then I got to go. Can’t wait any longer for you,” said David sternly.

I waved off his concerns. “Don’t worry, David, I never forget. And if I do, let’s hope it’s because I found them.”

David nodded. “Good luck, Mr. Benson.”

I jumped off the cart and watched him ride away. Once he was a good distance, I walked up to the statue. On the bottom, inscribed on a bronze plate, were the words, Fight not for yourself, but for your community. Under that was carved the man’s name: Kent Sellsword.

The tavern was across from the statue, with a wooden sign hung above the door. On it was a beautiful woman filling the mug of some burly man. It was only midday so the tavern would most likely be empty.

I took a look at my clothes. Dirt covered almost every inch of them. What wasn’t covered in dirt was stained and wrinkled. I smiled, not a problem. 

After spending some time cleaning myself off with magic, I walked toward the tavern. Hot air blew against my face as I pulled open the heavy wooden door. It smelled like fresh bread and pipe smoke. Still better than the rest of the town.

It took me a little bit to adjust to the dark interior. Once my eyes did, I saw the empty tavern in full. Round tables surrounded by several wooden chairs filled most of the building. In the back was a large counter with shelves of colorful bottles behind it. Small red stools were stacked on top, most likely because of the lack of customers. Beside the counter was a doorway, marking the entrance to the kitchen. On the sides of the tavern were stairs, leading to what I assumed were rooms for rent.

A bored-looking man leaned on the counter. He had short red hair and a face covered with freckles. His finger drummed on the counter as he examined a bit of dirt stuck in one of his glasses. When he saw me enter, he straightened and put on his best face. His mouth stretched into an uncomfortable smile. The man’s dark brown eyes looked me up and down.

I walked up to the man, taking a mental count of how many tables filled the building—fifteen by my count. Once I was further inside, I noticed a fireplace on the eastern wall. A good place for me to stand for my performance. During cold nights, people loved to sit next to fireplaces. Which forces them to be close to me while I perform. A win if I ever saw one. I took one of the stools and sat down face-to-face with the man.

“Good afternoon, sir! What can I get for you today?” he asked, picking up the glass he was looking at and gesturing to a plethora of drinks that lined the wall.

“Name’s Norman. Norman Benson. I was hoping to perform tonight in your pleasant tavern.”

The man eyed me up and down again before extending a hand. “Samuel. What kind of performance?”

I took his hand and firmly shook it. I winced from his much stronger grip, shaking my hand off to the side once he let go. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he saw my pained expression.

“Music my good man. My mandolin and I are the talk of my town down south,” I said. A lie, but he didn’t need to know that.

Samuel folded his arms. “Give me a taste and then we can talk.”

I stood up from my chair and brought my mandolin out in front of me. After testing the strings to make sure that they all sounded good, I played a simple melody. To show how good I was, I switched from fast and happy, to slow and somber, with everything between. I was about to add some lyrics to the tune, but he waved his hand to stop me.

“Alright, you’ve shown me you can play,” he said. Samuel brought out another glass from the bar. It was stained brown from years of use. He pointed to a large, green bottle he pulled down from the bottom shelf. “You drink?”

I shook my head. “Water for me, thanks.”

Samuel shrugged. “Alright, suit yourself.” He poured himself a drink that was a dark orange color, closer to brown than orange. After setting his drink down, bubbles started to form at the top creating a satisfying head to the drink. Samuel walked towards the door to the kitchen and poured water into my glass from a small metal faucet. That type of plumbing was new in the kingdom, a sign this was a wealthy tavern.

He walked back towards me and placed the glass in front of me. I raised my glass and met him halfway. “To a great night! May our profits never end!” I said. 

We both drank from our glasses. My water was a bit warm, but not too bad for a tavern in a small city. I was worried there would be a bit of a metallic taste, but it tasted like well water. Samuel seemed to take great pleasure from his drink, which I tried to ignore. I needed to stay focused. Getting drunk wouldn’t help me find Henry and Arienne.

Once he was done he slammed his glass on the counter. Wiping the foam from his upper lip, he sighed deeply. Once Samuel finished his small celebration, his brow furrowed. He counted on his fingers as he tried to figure out how much profit he could make off me.

“How long are you planning on staying here?” he asked.

“A week at the most. So let’s say five days to be safe.”

He nodded, still deep in thought. “Alright, here’s what I think. I’ll give you free room and board, and you perform every night while you’re here. You can keep over half the tips you make if the room is full every night. If not, I keep over half. Deal?”

I thought about it for a bit. It seemed fair to me since I would only be performing at night. The deal gave me plenty of time to explore the area during the day, which was something I looked forward to. If I could find a guide to lead me through the Sapphire Mountains, I could leave immediately. Or I could use the free time to look for information about the harska. Satisfied, I extended my hand toward his.

“Deal.”