Five days passed in a blink. One after another, like leaves carried by the wind.
Mom didn’t rest for a mont, making sure everything was ready for the journey: from food to gear, from blankets to scrolls with alternate routes in case of bad weather or difficult terrain.
On the first day, we went to the market, and I was surprised at how organized Mom was.
She didn’t just buy dried at, she chose the ones with the least fat content, as they lasted longer.
She bought wheat, barley, dried fruit, and honey cookies, all designed to provide energy with little weight. Every purchase was calculated, every coin used wisely.
She even hired a rchant to get dicinal salt, useful for treating wounds and preserving food. Claire and I ran behind her with bags, trying to keep up. It was exhausting, but exciting.
"Mom, are we really going to be away for that long?" I asked while she wrapped a packet of rice.
"Yes, sweetie. Two weeks there, two weeks back. And probably a month, maybe two, in Salikar" she answered without stopping. "So we must be prepared."
I kept thinking. Two months. Maybe three. That was a long ti.
What would the days away from ho be like? What would it feel like to sleep under different skies, in unfamiliar places?
We also rented a carriage, a sturdy, covered one, with enough space for four people and supplies.
Dad would drive it, seasoned by years of travel and rough roads from his days as an adventurer. He had scars on his hands, but an easy smile. He said he had carried all sorts of people in his wagon along with his group.
"Good luck" said the rchant who rented us the cart with a laugh. "Never underestimate the roads. Sotis, the roads are more dangerous than the destination itself."
There was sothing in his words that made think.
We were four travelers: Dad, Mom, Claire, and . Two adults, two children. Claire and I were physically weaker, so we planned multiple stops to rest, eat, and if necessary, find shelter.
The journey would be long, exhausting, but Mom insisted every detail be considered.
The night before departure I barely slept. I stared at the ceiling of my room, hugging the blanket Claire had embroidered for with Mom’s help.
I thought about everything we were leaving behind. Our ho. The sll of the kitchen. The warmth of the oven. The sunrises in the backyard.
My chest ached… but I also felt a fire burning inside. Expectation. Hope. Fear.
The morning of our departure was calm, not a cloud in the sky. Claire and I were the first to climb into the carriage.
We wore light cloaks, and each had a small backpack with personal items. I carried a notebook to record what I saw, a handkerchief from Mom, and a small mirror.
"Sister, what are you thinking about?" Claire asked, sitting next to .
I sighed.
"Nothing… just anxious to leave."
"Mom and Dad are taking a long ti…"
"I’m sure they’ll be here soon. Want to play sothing while we wait?"
"Yes! Let’s play the clapping ga!"
So we spent over an hour laughing, singing silly songs, and playing hand gas. Ti flew until, finally, Mom and Dad appeared.
Dad was carrying sothing wrapped in cloth, with a strap. At his hip hung a sword.
"What’s that, Dad?" I asked curiously.
He approached with firm steps. He looked at with that expression he only used in important monts, when he wasn’t just my father, but also my teacher.
"Lotte" he said. 'You’ve proven your talent. Your skill. But now it’s ti to show your courage and responsibility."
He unwrapped the cloth.
A sword, small, elegant. Its blade glead in the sunlight, casting glints on the carriage walls. The hilt had carved patterns, almost floral. It was a work of art.
"Is this… for ?"
"Yes" he replied, carefully placing it in my hands. "There are many dangers on the road. Not just wild animals. Also thieves, bandits, creatures lurking in the woods. If sothing happens… if Mom or Claire are in danger… I want you to have the strength to protect them."
My hands trembled as I received it. Not from fear. From emotion. From the weight. The weight of a promise. Of a responsibility.
The blade was about fifty centiters long. For an adult, it was almost a dagger.
But for , it was perfect. I felt its balance. Its edge. Its purpose.
"It’s beautiful…" I whispered.
Dad nodded.
"It was forged by one of my forr companions. We thought it was ti to give it to you."
Claire looked at with sparkling eyes.
"Sister! You look like a real knight!"
I laughed, and with a mix of pride and humility, I sheathed the sword in the belt Dad had also given .
"Thank you, Dad. I promise to use it only when necessary."
He nodded. And without another word, we all climbed into the carriage.
And so the journey began.
A journey that, without knowing it then, would lead to et those for whom I’d give my all, and who would push to reach the greatest heights.
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