Vol. 2 Ch. 21: Tough names, ugh...

Author's Note: Recurring Characters: Peter: The protagonist of this novel. Mariah: Peter's mother. You can find her picture in Art collectio

Author's Note: Recurring Characters: Peter: The protagonist of this novel. Mariah: Peter's mother. You can find her picture in Art collectio

Author's Note:
Recurring Characters:
Peter: The protagonist of this novel.

Mariah: Peter's mother. You can find her picture in Art collection.

Edited and Proofread by SnazzyCub.
Recap:
Peter gave a faint nod, eyes still locked on the looming city. “Then let’s not waste time.” It was the first time he was visiting a settlement outside of his village. He couldn’t help but feel a bit overwhelmed.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t waste the time,” said the man standing in front of them.

…End of Author's note...

...

Peter turned around and looked at the man, Peter’s eyes holding silent curiosity.

“Solace isn’t far. Rosefall is the Eastern commercial capital. It has the greatest celebration this side of the kingdom. People travel for weeks to experience it.” The man smiled . “No matter which gate you visit, you’ll find the same traffic.”

“Of course,” Mariah muttered, slapping her forehead. “Summer is at its peak. How could I forget?”

The man laughed, “It’s alright. Happens sometimes. I once forgot my wife’s birthday.” He said before examining their figures. “Where are you two from? You don’t look familiar.”

“We’ve travelled from afar. I grew up here, but it’s been decades since I visited.” Mariah said, dismounting from the saddle.

“Just two of you?” The man asked, a confused expression on his face.

“No…the others are running behind.” Mariah shook her head, a slight smile on her lips. “This—my naughty child—couldn’t wait. He kept complaining, so I decided to rush forward with him.”

Peter remained quiet. The man laughed, nodding repeatedly while looking at him. Mariah thanked him for reminding her.

They waited in line through the morning, the queue inching forward sluggishly. Each time Peter glanced back, it seemed longer as more travellers, merchants, and peasants kept trickling in until the line had tripled in length.

His eyes kept returning to the city gate ahead. The entrance towered above them, wide enough for two carriages to roll through side by side. On either end stood guards, spears in hand, their leather armour patched with steel plates over their chests. They watched the crowd with disinterest, like men long used to monotony.

Every so often, the group at the front would be waved ahead and ushered into narrow doors flanking the main gate. Peter noticed how thick the wall was—wide enough to house rooms within it. That alone spoke of craftsmanship and time. The wall stretched around the city like a stone collar, rising four stories high. He couldn’t help but wonder how many years it had taken to build something so massive.

“Why are they moving inside the rooms?” he asked, his tone sounding naïve and innocent as he looked both ahead and behind him with curiosity-filled eyes.

The lady standing behind him answered first. “To ensure that no bad person enters the city,” she said, her lips curled upwards in a gentle smile.

“How do they know that someone is a bad person?” Peter asked, tilting his head.

“By checking their titles and karma,” She said, still very patient.

“How do you know that?”

She laughed. “Because I exit and enter regularly.”

“Why?”

“Peter!” Mariah barked in admonishment. She offered the lady an apologetic smile.

The other woman shook her head and waved her off. Facing Peter again, she said, “Can’t you tell from my clothes? I’m an adventurer.”

The leather jerkin she wore was worn but well-kept, with faded straps and scuffed edges. A green scarf draped around her neck, its ends tattered from wear. Her trousers were stained with dirt from travelling, tucked into weathered boots. She carried herself with the ease of someone used to danger.

Pointing behind her, she said, “And these are my team members.”

The three stood just behind her in line, each offering a small wave, their gear and quiet confidence marking them as no strangers to the road.

“Adventurers just like Old Sam from the caravan?” Peter asked, with sparkling eyes.

She chuckled. “Don’t know who Old Sam is…but sure? Though we only go dungeon diving.”

Peter continued to ask questions until the queue had moved enough that it was their turn.

They followed the guard's guidance and entered the room on the left. Peter surveyed the room, holding hands with Mariah. It was large enough to have two king-size beds. The room was empty, except for a table and a few chairs placed at the very centre.

A woman sat in a chair, flanked by two guards on each side. She looked up at them. “I’ll be checking each of your statuses,” she said, her lips pressed into a thin line afterwards.

“It’ll cost a copper. If you don’t have an ID, it’ll cost another silver for it to be made.”

Mariah nodded, walking forward along with her son. She offered her hand to the woman, who quickly drew a drop of blood from her finger and inserted the needle into the artefact.

“What’s your objective for visiting Rosefall?” she asked, while it worked to display the results.

Mariah hesitated, casting a glance at Peter before meeting the woman’s eyes. “My son says I was attacked by something—a creature—and now I can’t remember years of my life. My status shows some kind of mental ailment, so… we were hoping the priests here might be able to help.”

Silence followed her explanation as the guards offered her pitying looks, while the woman noted it down on a parchment.

“Priests are as greedy as any merchant,” she said, glancing at the status display above the artefact for confirmation. “It’s going to cost you a fortune to get that done, and judging by your clothes, you don't look like you have that kind of money.”

“…one can only hope,” Mariah said, biting her upper lip. “We’ve some savings…if it isn’t enough, I'm hoping my parents will contribute some. They own Brooks on the Guild Street.”

“…I see.” The woman nodded, noting it down as well. “May Avaris show her kindness to you,” she said, before turning toward Peter. “Show me your hand, child.”

Peter obediently offered his end.

…

Peter stood silently beside Mariah, his expression unreadable as the artefact reached for his status. Alongside it, he felt two other familiar intrusions brushing against his soul.

‘As expected…it wouldn’t be so simple,’ he mused, identifying the tugging to be inspection-based skills being used on him. The woman had an identifying skill. The other came from someone else, hidden just beyond the wall ahead. Thankfully, Status Camouflage was capable of working against multiple inspection skills at the same time. Peter just needed to provide it with enough mana, and he had plenty of.

“Alright,” The woman said, standing up. “Let me bring your identification.” She said, walking towards a door behind her.

She returned with two copper, palm-sized plates, each etched with some basic information about them. Mariah paid the coins and received them.

Once they were out, the guards allowed them to enter the city, and Peter took his first step inside Rosefall.

…

(Ten minutes later)

In the western quarter of Rosefall, not far from the noble district at the city’s heart, stood the grand cathedral of Avaris. Within its quiet inner chambers, an elderly woman and a teenager sat cross-legged on the stone floor, facing each other in silent meditation.

The youth suddenly opened his eyes, a frown taking over his face.

“What happened?” The woman asked, her lips curled in a loose smile.

“Forgive me, Lady Anselma.” He bowed slightly, guilt tightening his features. “I suddenly feel uneasy. I can’t seem to focus enough to meditate.”

Anselma opened her eyes slowly, her gaze calm and steady as it settled on him. Her hands remained folded in her lap, and she spoke without judgment.

“Tell me what you’re feeling. Not just the anxiety. What lies beneath it?” Her voice was soft but clear. “What is it that troubles you, child? Speak freely. Did something happen in the morning that you’re not telling me?”

He shook his head. “Nothing happened, my lady. Everyone’s been kind to me—and even when they’re strict, it’s only because they care.” He looked down, brow furrowed. “That’s why I don’t understand. There’s no reason for me to feel this anxious.”

“Could it be because I’m close to a breakthrough?” he asked, a flicker of hope in his voice.

Anselma watched him for a long moment, then frowned. “I would have sensed it if you were close, my child. This… It’s not just restlessness.” Her voice lowered, more serious now. “If it were anyone else, I might have dismissed it. But you… You’re the Saint Candidate. The vessel our Mother has chosen, should she ever need to walk among us. This could be a sign from her.”

“Aldemar!” she barked, her tone carrying the weight of command as she turned toward the door. A brief pause followed before the door opened with a firm swing. A man in polished armour stepped inside, his white tabard marked with the insignia of the Avaris. His gaze was steady, his posture rigid, awaiting orders without a word.

“Yes, Arch Priestess,” Aldemar said, bowing his head slightly. He stood at attention, silent and composed, the readiness in his stance speaking louder than words.

“Solace isn’t far,” she said, her tone laced with a fake concern. “With all this added activity, the city guards must be stretched thin.” She glanced toward Aldemar. “Assign a holy knight to accompany each patrol. We need to reinforce public order.” Her gaze narrowed slightly, thoughtful. “I have a feeling this Solace won’t pass as quietly as the others. Best we’re prepared.”

Aldemar smirked and dipped his head once more. “If the nobles question our authority, I’ll be sure to remind them how deeply we care for the safety of their men.”

…

Peter glanced around, surprised by the sheer number of people packed into the streets. They had barely stepped through the gates, and already the main road teemed with movement. Merchants shouted over carts, children darted between legs, and travellers pressed shoulder to shoulder. From what he’d gathered, this road cut straight through the city, leading to its heart, where the noble district sat walled off behind another towering barrier.

“Keep an eye on our coins,” Mariah said as they stepped aside to let a carriage rumble past. “There are plenty of pickpockets in the city.”

Peter chuckled, but kept his hand near the pouch. “What do we do next? Visit the inn?”

Mariah shook her head slightly, eyes scanning the street ahead. “First, we need to buy manure bags.” She said. “If we let the horses dirty the roads, the guards’ll have an excuse to confiscate them.”

They walked past a row of fruit vendors, the air thick with the scent of overripe melons and sun-warmed apples. A hooded figure, only a head taller than Peter, darted between carts, brushing against him. Just before slipping into the crowd, the figure turned and shot him a tilted look before vanishing into the crowd.

Mariah’s gaze followed the figure for a beat before returning to the road. “That’s the second one I've seen trying something.”

Peter shook his head. “She wasn’t trying to steal.” He said, his eyes narrowing. “I think she expected me to stumble. Guess she’s pretty sure of her strength.”

He turned to Mariah. “Let’s get those bags and get moving. Whoever she was, she had a reason to think that way—you’d have stumbled. I don’t want to get involved in whatever she’s caught up in.”

They turned down a narrower lane where the buildings leaned in close and the clatter of hooves gave way to the softer shuffle of foot traffic. A few stalls here sold stable goods, such as harnesses, feed, brushes, and tucked between them was a cramped shop with sacks piled out front, each stamped with a hoofmark symbol.

Mariah stepped inside while Peter stayed with the horses.

The scent of hay, leather, and something sour clung to the air. An older man sat behind the counter, half-dozing until the bell above the door jingled.

“We’re looking for manure bags,” she said.

The shopkeeper blinked, then sat up with a grunt. “How many? Canvas or treated hide? Noble district is picky about what it allows.”

Mariah leaned forward. “Two. Treated. We’ll be using the inner roads.”

He nodded slowly and disappeared into the back. Soon, he returned with the goods.

Mariah didn’t bother browsing. A quick check, a quiet clink of coins, and she was back outside.

Peter took one with a nod, tying it to the saddle. They mounted up and nudged the horses forward, using the main street to move toward the guild street, with Mariah leading the path.

…End of Chapter…
Sanitation is important.