Episode 126 - Son of the Village Chief

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Previously:

While writing a letter to her fiance, Nelaira thinks about the events that led to her current predicament. She remembers how her squad of ten found a hidden entrance to a long staircase climbing through the mountain, first discovered by Zor Arite. There they find a green valley filled with wildlife and ruins of a village. Nelaira uses her day off to explore the ruins and finds a diary hidden inside a pillar. While picking herbs Luki finds a patch of land where a large quantity of ash is buried under the soil. He finds it suspicious but his comrades disagree. Nelaira stumbles onto a hidden cellar in the ruins of the village that contains food.

* * *

Quickly, she backtracked towards the pots and jars and stared at their contents in wonder.

If this village was destroyed in the Great Mage Wars, it would mean that all this food was more than fourteen hundred years old!

So then...

How come that the dried fruit was still quite recognizable? It looked a bit old, but still edible?

How come the cheese looked like...cheese? A bit dry and hard, but still very...cheesy?

* * *

Episode 126 – Son of the Village Chief

Nelaira grabbed the nearest jar of dried plums.

As soon as she opened the lid a familiar scent of prunes assaulted her nostrils.

With shaking hands, Nelaira returned the jar back to the shelf and took out a single prune out, holding it between her fingers so stiffly one would think she was worried she would get burned.

Then she reached into her pocket to pull out her agometer, a strange looking pocket watch. Like a normal clock, it had three hands of different lengths. However, the numbers on the dial didn't go up to 12 or even 60 – they went from 0 to 99.

She placed the plum underneath the agometer, where there was a small hole, and pressed the button located on the top of the agometer.

From the small hole extended a small, dim ray of light and the hands of the watch started to spin.

No, that's wrong.

The hands didn't start to spin.

Only a single hand, the shortest one, spun, quickly stopping on the number 16.

Nelaira almost dropped the expensive apparatus, half from the shaking of her hands, half from the sudden weakness in her limbs.

* * *

The sky was painted in the red hues by the time Nelaira made it back to their campsite, a deep frown etched on her pale face.

Unlike her, the rest of her comrades were in a rather good mood. Those that weren't holding a piece of meat in their hands were holding a piece of paper, reading.

Nelaira slumped down and grabbed the nearest meat skewer, digging into the meat with the ferocity of a rabid lupax.

Luki, who was about to address her, changed mind and put back the glass vial he had almost pulled out of his robes. He concluded it was better to wait with his request until she was in a better mood.

Unlike him, the redhead wasn't as perceptive to Nelaira's foul mood. Although Laica was Nelaira's best friend, the redhead's emotional intelligence was not high, to put it mildly.

As loud and spirited as ever, she sat down next to Nelaira and shoved a piece of paper into her face. "Look, look! It's the translation of the diary you found."

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