Chương 12: Journey to the City

Gorn urged the horse forward, its hooves drumming a steady rhythm against the packed earth. William clung to his back, the rough weave of Gorn's tunic scratching at his cheek. It wasn't the most comfortable mode of transport, but it was infinitely better than trudging through the mud on foot.

"Apologies for the cramped quarters, lad," Gorn rumbled, glancing back over his shoulder. "This old mare's all we've got."

"No worries," William replied, grinning. He was just glad to be off his feet.

For hours, they followed a narrow track that wound through dense woodland. The air hung heavy with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, and branches whipped at their faces as they passed.

Finally, the trees thinned, giving way to a wide cobblestone road that stretched towards the horizon. Relief washed over William; this must be the main road Gorn had mentioned, the one that linked the scattered villages and towns of the region.

"What's the city like?" William asked, curiosity piqued. "How big is it? And how much farther?"

"The city is called Alderanth," Gorn declared, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "It's a few days' ride, but it's where we need to go."

William nodded, the terrifying image of the corrupted wolf still vivid in his mind. He'd read about all sorts of fantastical creatures – griffins with their sharp talons and piercing cries, sprites that danced in moonlit glades, even dragons that breathed fire and terrorized kingdoms.

But none of those tales had prepared him for the horrifying reality of the wolf. Its fur was the color of a moonless night, its eyes burned with an unnatural crimson fire, and a foul stench clung to it like a shroud.

Even the goblins he'd encountered in the forest paled in comparison to this abomination.

"How big is Alderanth?" William asked, forcing himself to focus on their destination.

"It's no capital," Gorn replied, "but it's a sizable city. We'll find someone who can help us there."

They pressed onward, the well-worn cobblestone road leading them through a changing landscape. The dense woodland gradually gave way to rolling hills, where farmers tended their fields and shepherds watched over their flocks. They passed a group of merchants leading packhorses laden with goods, their bells jingling softly in the afternoon breeze.

As twilight cast long shadows across the land, Gorn guided the horse off the road and into a hidden clearing. It was time to make camp.

"Traveling at night is a foolish risk," Gorn warned, his voice thick with the weariness of a long day. "We need rest, and there's no telling what creatures might roam these woods after dark."

William nodded in agreement. Even though he was used to camping in the wilds of Earth, the thought of encountering something unknown in this magical world sent shivers down his spine.

"Are there any inns along this road?" he asked, longing for the comfort of a warm bed and a hearty meal. "A place where we can rest properly?"

"Don't worry," Gorn reassured him, "there are taverns ahead. We won't have to rough it for more than a night or two."

Gorn, with the efficiency of a seasoned hunter, quickly gathered dry leaves and branches, coaxing a small fire to life in a matter of minutes. The flames crackled and danced, casting a warm glow against the encroaching twilight.

He then unfurled a simple tent, securing it with sturdy stakes driven deep into the soft earth. It wasn't much, but it offered a welcome respite from the elements and a sense of security in the heart of the wild.

"I'll be back shortly," Gorn announced, grabbing his bow and quiver. "There should be some game nearby."

William nodded, watching as Gorn melted into the shadows of the forest. He felt a pang of apprehension as he was left alone, the silence of the woods amplifying every rustle and snap.

Less than an hour later, Gorn returned, two plump rabbits dangling from his belt. He quickly skinned and cleaned them, the practiced movements of his hands betraying years of experience. Soon, the enticing aroma of roasting meat filled the air, mingling with the scent of pine needles and damp earth.

William watched Gorn work, a mixture of admiration and guilt swirling within him. Gorn moved with the fluid grace of someone intimately familiar with the wilderness, his every action precise and efficient. William, on the other hand, felt utterly useless.

"I feel bad just sitting here," William confessed, picking at the roasted rabbit. "You're doing everything to set up camp."

Gorn chuckled, a deep rumble that echoed through the trees. "Lad, you're still mending. Besides, someone needed to keep watch over our belongings. That's a vital task in itself." He paused, tearing off a chunk of rabbit with his teeth. "You've got a good heart, wanting to help. But sometimes, knowing when to rest is just as important."

"You're right, Gorn," William conceded, a hint of resignation in his voice. "I'll try to rest." He knew pushing himself wouldn't help anyone, and he trusted Gorn's judgment.

The night was filled with the symphony of the forest – the rustling of leaves, the hooting of owls, the distant howls of unseen creatures.

William tossed and turned, his sleep punctuated by vivid dreams of the corrupted wolf and the looming threat to his village. Gorn, however, seemed to slumber peacefully, the sounds of the wild lulling him into a deep sleep.

Dawn broke, painting the sky with hues of gold and crimson. Gorn was the first to stir, rising with the effortless grace of a seasoned hunter. He rekindled the campfire, its warmth chasing away the lingering chill of the night.

Soon, they were packed and ready to continue their journey.

As they journeyed further along the cobblestone road, the landscape around them steadily transformed, again. The dense forests thinned, giving way to rolling hills dotted with farms and pastures. They began to encounter more travelers – merchants with their laden wagons, pilgrims on foot, even a knight clad in shining armor, his sword gleaming in the sunlight.

The once quiet road became a bustling thoroughfare, evidence of Alderanth's growing influence. William, accustomed to the solitude of the forest, found himself both fascinated and unnerved by the increasing activity.

He observed the people they passed with a keen eye, noting their attire, their mannerisms, and the subtle ways in which this world differed from his own.

Suddenly, Gorn reined in the horse, his gaze fixed on a figure lying crumpled in the middle of the road. "Someone's hurt," he muttered, dismounting quickly.

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