Arthur continued his walk through the town of Lornwick with an apple in hand, taking lazy bites as he strolled around. The day was calm and peaceful and most of the townsfolk were busy with their lives.
Arthur chewed slowly, looking around. 'Man I'm bored' he thought. Maybe I should explore outside of town for a bit.' which then he took another bite of the apple, nodding to himself.
With that, he made his way toward the town gate.
A soldier stood watch at the gate, dressed in the familiar Rosendahl armor. His spear was planted in the dirt, and his helmet sat crooked on his head. The man looked to be in his mid-thirties, with short dark hair and a bit of stubble beard.
Arthur gave him a small nod as he approached. "Mind if I head out for a bit?"
The guard blinked, straightened up, and nodded. "You're free to go. Just don't wander too far."
Arthur, feeling a little more sociable than usual, extended his hand. "Name's Arthur."
The guard raised a brow, a little surprised by the gesture, then shook Arthur's hand with a faint smile. "John Del. Aren't you the one who helped with the Dreadmane? The guy that left this morning, he was with you, right?"
Arthur scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, that's us."
John grinned, his tone light. "Thought so. Is he your friend?"
Arthur let out a short laugh. "Yeah. He's quite the smooth talker."
John chuckled, shaking his head. "Figures. He was chatting up half the guards at the garrison before sunrise."
Arthur smiled faintly. "Sounds about right."
John nodded, the grin fading into something more genuine. "You two did the town a real favor. I've got a daughter at home… can't help but think what might've happened if that beast was still out there."
Arthur looked down for a moment, then met his eyes. "You don't have to thank me. I'm just glad it's over."
John gave a quiet nod. "Still, I'm grateful. Not many out there would've risked it."
Arthur gave a small smile. "Guess I'm just stubborn."
John huffed a laugh and stepped aside, gesturing to the open road. "Well, enjoy your walk, Arthur."
Arthur nodded and stepped past the gate, then followed the dirt road for a while before veering off toward the edge of the woods. The wind picked up, carrying the faint scent of flowers and grass.
After a few minutes of walking, the trees began to thin. Sunlight broke through the branches, painting the ground in patches of gold. Then, just ahead, the forest opened up into a wide stretch of land.
Arthur stopped in his tracks.
Before him stretched a wide field, painted in soft hues of blue, white, and pale yellow. The flowers swayed with the wind, bending and rising again like waves under sunlight.
He stepped forward, boots brushing through the petals, and found a flat rock near the edge of the field. Sitting down, he leaned back on his hands and looked toward the distant outline of Lornwick's walls, small and hazy against the horizon.
"Huh," he muttered.
He reached into his bag, pulled out another apple, and took a slow bite. The crunch echoed faintly in the quiet air.
"This is actually pretty nice," he said, a faint grin tugging at his lips. "Maybe I'll make this my spot."
The wind brushed through Arthur's hair, carrying the scent of grass and wildflowers. The field moved gently around him.
He stepped off the flat rock and walked a little farther in, the flowers brushing against his boots. Then, with a small sigh, he lowered himself onto the ground and lay back, staring up at the sky.
Lacrimosa rested beside him. He gave it a quick glance before letting his eyes drift shut. Then his mind began to wander.
…
Two years ago.
Arthur was twenty then, still living in his village of Lumin, a small place just outside the borders of Aetheria. The air smelled of pine and smoke from morning fires. Somewhere in the distance, dogs barked, and the forest rustled with the noise of life.
He stood at the edge of the treeline, a spear slung over his shoulder, a leather satchel on his back.
"Boar hunting again?" a man called out from behind him. It was old Renard, the village smith, wiping sweat from his brow.
Arthur turned and gave a short nod. "Yeah. Maren said this one's been tearing up the fields again."
Renard grunted. "Be careful Arthur, they can be quite aggressive ."
Arthur smirked faintly. "I know, I know. Don't worry Renard"
Renard barked a laugh and waved him off.
Arthur adjusted his grip on the spear and stepped into the woods. The ground was soft underfoot, and shafts of light broke through the canopy above. He moved quietly, listening to the sound of rustling leaves, distant birds, then Arthur heard a pig grunt.
"Gotcha," he muttered, crouching low.
Through the brush, he spotted the huge boar chewing on roots near a fallen log. Arthur took a slow breath, steadying himself.
"Alright," he whispered, " just one clean throw." He pulled back the spear and threw.
The boar let out a loud squeal as the spear struck its side. It turned sharply, eyes locking on Arthur.
"Oh, hell."
The beast charged, dirt flying from its hooves but Arthur managed to swiftly dodge to the side, rolling through the leaves. Arthur then grabbed a rock from the ground and hurled it, hitting the animal across the snout.
"Go down already!" he shouted, grabbing the spear again and thrusting it forward.
The boar stumbled, legs giving out beneath it, before collapsing with a heavy thud.
Arthur stood there for a moment, chest rising and falling, then leaned on his spear with a breathless laugh. "You almost had me there…"
He stared at the creature, shaking his head with a tired grin.
"I hope Maren makes me some good barbecue out of this," he muttered to himself, nudging the boar with his boot. "Or at least pay me the 50 copper coins this time."
He laughed under his breath, the sound small against the quiet forest air.
"Arthur…"
The voice was faint, almost like the wind slipping between the trees it was soft and Ethereal. It didn't sound close, but it cut through the stillness in a way that made his heart skip.
Arthur straightened, his smile fading. "What?"