"Huh?"
For a moment, I froze. The sheriff… isn't that the chief of the local police force?
So basically, I need to report myself to the head of guards?
Weren't Luskar escapees a regular thing here? Plus, I hadn't caused any trouble, so why-
"I know you must feel confused, but I'm saying this for your own good."
"..."
"Putting our mission report aside, quite a few people have already heard about you. Also, we heard on that clearing… where you escaped from."
"..."
"You also told Harold that you came from the swamps. I doubt he personally cares enough to dig into that, of course. But now that both Thomas and the sheriff are back in town, one of them will launch the standard background check. A very quick investigation will reveal enough suspicious information about you to warrant a summons."
"..."
"Of course, if you were to disappear, nobody would even know you were alive. Your face would probably be put on a low-priority wanted list, and soon forgotten. But, if you were ever to return back to any big settlement, this could come back to hunt you – and the situation would be nowhere near as good as right now."
"...why?"
"I know this might feel unfair, but-"
"No. I understand you're saying this to help me. But why? Aren't you going a bit too far out of your way to help someone who could as well be a Luskar spy?"
Bern just looked at me, his face completely unreadable, before replying.
"First – I don't think you are any kind of spy. Some things are just way too sloppy for that to be the case, and others don't even make sense. Second…"
He paused for a moment, then continued.
"...I feel like you could have a bright future in this kingdom. Never hurts to be owed a favor."
Both reasons seemed logical. I mean, with the memories I regained, I realized there were many far less conspicuous ways to plant a spy in a neighbouring nation. And being owed a favor for little to no cost is also a good incentive. However…
"What's the third reason?"
The way he spoke, the structured and well thought out answers… They looked too much like pre-made excuses.
Bern just looked to the side, his eyes looking somewhere beyond the dark horizon. At this moment, he reminded me of the half-elf.
Just as I thought he was not going to say another word, an answer came, albeit a very vague one.
"You just… remind me of someone. He also got caught up in something. Back then, I felt I should have done something - anything - to help him.. but didn't. Now I won't get another chance."
Another long silence followed.
"Anyway, the choice is yours. Also, here's your share."
I raised my hand to catch a small pouch flying my way. It was lighter than my own, but not by much.
"3 gold for the wolf pelt. One fourth of a share from the emergency commission, since that wolf attack was cutting it a little too close for comfort. 1 gold for a round number."
I didn't bother counting the contents. By both his words and the overall weight, I could guess it had 10 gold coins, bringing my finances slightly above 30 gold.
"Now, I believe we're even. See you around, kid."
With those parting words, Bern walked back into the dining room, not looking back.
***
'...uch time. You need to wake up.'
"HUFF- HUFF- Huuuu"
I woke up, stabilizing my breath. This time, I wasn't drenched in sweat – however, the ominous sense of urgency remained, same as before.
I threw a quick look around my room, weakly illuminated by the dim light of the rising sun, which was probably only barely peeking from below the horizon.
I also took a look at something else - a line that ended with the number '1045'.
My head was a little foggy after yesterday. I didn't even drink that much ale – must have been in part due to my mental fatigue.
I remembered not going to the dining room again after parting ways with Bern - that'd just be awkward.
Instead, I left most of my stuff in my room, and went to the bath.
It was basically a single large stone pool with hot water. There were also a few small buckets filled with soapy liquid near the pool, as well as a single pipe with a valve, leading upwards through the roof. I noticed the faint sound of running water – the pool was slowly being refilled from the pipe, and drained from somewhere near the bottom at the same time. I wasn't sure whether that's how pools worked back home, but I honestly didn't care.
There were also a few tiny changing cabins with pristine white towels, and what seemed to be a laundry bin for those towels.
All in all, this wasn't the personal bathtub I was used to, but it was much better than nothing.
After taking a bath, I remember going to bed, and thinking about some stuff before falling asleep.
What was it, though?..
'Ah, right!'
First things first, I had to go see the sheriff.
Next – visit the guild to get my new credentials, but most importantly… no, not look at the new requests.
I knew I'd have to start taking those requests soon – both for the money, and for the combat experience.
However, I decided to do two things before that:
First, gather some information about the nearby dangers.
Hopefully, the guild had a library, or some form of local bestiary.
Second, I decided to properly train with the sword for a day or two.
I could now sense the stiffness in some of my movements, and the delays between wanting to use skills and actually using them.
I knew there was a way to eliminate those delays and inefficiencies – and while I wasn't sure I'd manage in just a few days, I had to get a better feel for the sword, as well as understand what I was currently lacking.
Another thing l needed to do in the Guild, when I could catch him again with free time on his hands, was to ask Harold more about Paths and Techniques.
Finally, I still had to speak to Amelia about my two biggest issues, and after a few hours in the morning, she wouldn't be in the shrine til late afternoon.
I could technically talk to the old priest, but I just could bring myself to trust him.
I knew a part of my distrust might have been the fruit of baseless paranoia and exhaustion, but that wasn't the whole reason for it.
I trusted Amelia, but just because she was who she was, didn't mean every single priest of her religion was that way, too.
I've heard way too many stories about corrupt priests back at home – some seeking material gains, others committing far darker acts.
I did not wish to carry my prejudice regarding clergy to this world, but regardless, I decided to keep the old priest at arm's length for now.
After dressing up, I went downstairs, only to see the reception desk empty.
I threw a glance at the dining hall. The door was closed, but I could make out faint sounds of metal rhythmically hitting wood – it was the familiar sound of chopping vegetables with a knife.
Since it was too early for breakfast, I decided to fill my time with the most efficient thing I could think of.
I circled the inn, to arrive in a small alley situated between its rear, and the solid side wall of the nearby stables (which I suspected might have belonged to Arthur as well).
I pulled out my sword, and swung a few times. By now, the sense of familiarity increased, but I could still feel the minor awkwardness in some of the movements.
I continued swinging the sword, subtly changing its angle, my leg movements, and a few other minor details.
Eventually, the swing felt just right – the sword fluidly severed the flesh of the invisible goblin in front of me, stopping at the precise position to transition into either another diagonal slash, or an upward thrust.
I continued swinging the sword, repeating the previous process, until at a certain point, the stance I was in felt a bit awkward.
I tried think of a solution, when suddenly-
'Stop. You're doing that again.'
For a moment, I froze in surprise, even though the familiar, deep voice I heard so vividly only existed in my mind.
'Your movements are like mechanical cogs – they have direction, and move in tandem, but the direction is predictable, and the gaps between the movements are glaring. Here, look at me one more time…'
Unlike the previous memory, this one was far less intrusive, and far less intense.
Sebastian's father, taller than in the last memory (or was 'I' shorter?), was swinging a large wooden sword, its elegant strikes fluidly transitioning into each other, his massive muscular body surprisingly matching that elegance.
'Your movements, body and sword both, need to be like the water. Do not try to force their flow - seek a natural path.'
Another contrast to the previous memory were Sebastian's feelings – a mix of focused passion, and barely concealed admiration.
'Why are you just standing there with that face, Seb? If you're done for the day, we can go chop some firewood.'
Sebastian swiftly shook his head, the grip around his own wooden sword tightening once more, and his body getting into a stance.
At that time, I also shook my head, returning to the present.
'Phew. Don't feel anywhere as drained as last time, at least.'
While I previously tried to avoid unlocking this many memories at once, this particular time wasn't so bad.
Most crucially, it made me notice the subtle mistakes in my training.
At the moment, my own movements were closer to those of the father rather than teenage Seb, although I still had a long way to go before their power and fluidity could even compare.
However, my current training, while increasing my familiarity with this body and fighting style, was also nudging that style in the exact direction Sebastian's father told him to avoid.
Unconsciously exhaling in relief, I tightened my grip on the hilt once again.
After some time, which rushed past me in a blur, I suddenly heard the sound of creaking door hinges, and farther ahead, near the corner of the inn, a small back door opened.
A familiar figure came out, holding a bucket filled to the brim with vegetable peels and other organic waste.
When her head turned in my direction, she momentarily recoiled in surprise, before blinking in confusion.
"Sebastian? Are you training here?"
"Erm… yes… sorry?"
I slowly put my sword back in its sheath, as a mix of understanding and subtle relief appeared on her face.
"No, it's fine. Just… when you're training, better do it outside the town, or in the Adventurer's Guild. If you go around with your sword drawn in alleys, most people will… misunderstand."
"Ah… yes… Thank you for the advice."
I could physically feel my face gradually starting to match the hue of the pine trees outside of town.
"It's fine, I'm glad you understand."
Martha flashed a kind smile, before dumping the bucket into a large wooden box nearby, which, judging by the smell, was probably a compost bin.
"Anyway, breakfast will be ready in a few minutes, and the bath water should be heated by now."
"Thanks. I'll be going in, then."
Vowing to never again train on the town streets again, I made my way back inside.
After a quick bath, I went on to have breakfast.
There wasn't anything remotely near the level of the soup from yesterday, but the vegetable porridge with a fresh, steamy loaf of white bread, was more than decent.
I paid for the meal - 5 copper coins - and also dropped a gold coin for a 10 night stay at reception, where Arthur was already sorting through some documents.
With everything taken care of, I took a deep breath, left the inn, making my way to a certain tall building in the distance.