Alma's house was deep within the village, within sight of the larger building Arin had seen towering in the middle. He couldn't help but take a few more glances at it. Its hulking form seemed so out-of-place silhouetted against the sky.
'Our ceremonial hall,' Alma explained, 'once used for gathering all the offerings made to the land. I believe it had great significance in the past. However, we haven't had a priest in many years – not since I was born, in any case. As such, besides hosting the occasional celebratory banquet, it primarily serves as a communal storage hall for excess grain these days.' She shrugged. 'I'm afraid there's nothing to see there anymore.'
Arin nodded slowly. They had approached a modest wooden front door. As Alma reached out a hand to push it open, he belatedly realized that he hadn't asked her about her family at all.
Alma had simply mentioned having a spare room for him to spend the night. What if her family didn't feel comfortable with him being there? It was quite late already, and the village didn't have any inns or hostels for travelers. Not that he would've had the money to pay for a room anyway. He had followed Alma like a dumb puppy – taken by her kindness – without considering anything else. He wouldn't have to spend the night curled up with the chickens, would he?
Seeming to sense his sudden panic, Alma glanced back at him over her shoulder with a smirk. 'I live alone, Arin,' she said, before turning and entering her house.
*
Dinner was a warm stew, carefully heated over another small fire Alma had conjured up. Arin's offer to help with its preparation had been gently rejected, so he'd taken it upon himself to do the dishes instead.
As he scraped their bowls into a trough and washed them clean in a basin of cold water, Alma stood by and maintained a steady flow of conversation with him.
'The occasional visitors we've had over the years have all been hermits or runaways. Or in one case, a traveler who was simply very, very lost. So, forgive my curiosity,' she tilted her head, 'But what brings you here?'
'I am also a traveler, I guess,' Arin said uncertainly.
'Not also lost, I hope?'
'No! I'm headed to…'
Alma leaned closer, a glint of curiosity emerging in her beautiful eyes. 'Headed to?'
'There's a… tower. Deep in the forest, to the east – '
'The House of Grace!' Realization dawned on Alma's face. 'The magician's tower that was established by that noble from the capital city!' Shifting closer to him, she asked, 'Arin, are you also from the capital?'
'I'm not.' Arin put down the bowl he'd been scrubbing. He realized that he should take this opportunity to dig up some information.
'But of course,' Alma nodded. 'It wouldn't make sense if you were. We heard something about a fallout from the previous traveler – some three years ago. He said that the noble had given up his title to live in a kind of voluntary exile. It had apparently been a major event – widely discussed in the cities back then!'
Three years ago? Recalling the tower's crumbling façade, Arin pressed his lips together. He couldn't help but feel some pity for that white-haired man. Not only was he a recently fallen noble, but also a very poor one at that. Surrounded by weathered material and shoddy construction, it was no wonder he hid away in that glade-dimension-thing of his.
And it was no wonder that his personality sucked so damn bad.
Shaking his head, he put away the last spoon, then stood up to stretch. Alma continued her chatter beside him. 'Then, are you an admirer of his? Or a student, perhaps, hoping to seek his guidance?'
'Oh. The latter.'
'But why pick the House of Grace?' Alma asked.
'Uh…' Arin paused. He didn't really know what other options there were.
Seeing him hesitate, Alma winced slightly. 'You don't have to say, of course!'
Holding up her hands in a disarming gesture, she continued, 'I'm sorry for asking all these questions. It's a rare treat to have someone new to talk to, and I let my curiosity get the better of me.'
Arin relaxed his shoulders. He didn't actually mind her inquisitiveness. He even found it quite cute. He truly just didn't know what to say.
Turning to face her with a soft smile, he said, 'Looks like you're not quite as content with living a secluded life as you said earlier, Alma.'
The lady pouted slightly, turning to look away. There was silence for a few seconds.
'My mother and father live with my youngest brother's family, in the larger house nearby,' she said suddenly. 'I remained to take care of my grandparents while they were still here. Now that they are gone…'
Alma walked to sit at the table before continuing in a softer voice, 'I've been avoiding any talk of marriage these past few years. I am not opposed to settling down, but a part of me has always wondered about the world I've only ever heard of from travelers.'
Arin walked closer to her. 'Haven't you ever considered leaving Lullwater, if only just to travel? Even if you decide that your life is better here and ultimately choose to return, at least you won't be stuck wondering about what could have been.'
'And how would I travel, Arin?' Alma looked up at him with a sad smile, the dimple in her cheek shallow. 'I have no mount, nor any money to spare. I know nothing of survival in a world beyond this village. I don't even have any friends on the outside…'
Arin sat down before her. 'And here I thought we were becoming friends.'
Alma blinked at him.
Arin suddenly felt a little impulsive. 'I'm going to be honest; I don't know too much about this world either,' he said. 'I am going to that tower – The House of Grace – to learn. I can't make any promises, but maybe…'
Alma laughed. 'Are you offering to bring me along on an adventure, Arin?'
'Maybe you could join me on a short trip to the tower. There's nothing worth seeing along the way - or so I've heard, anyway - but we might meet some interesting people there. We might even find someone willing to share stories about their travels!'
You might see how that 'noble' is living and decide life in Lullwater is better by far. Still...
Arin didn't know why he was offering something he couldn't be sure of. He himself was a stranger to this world, and in a predicament far worse than Alma could've ever imagined.
He just couldn't bear to see the sad smile on her face.