The Wandering Witch VOL. 1 - The Prelude Arc (COMPLETED)

1.2| An Arrival of Snow

"This is as far as I can take 'ya, lil' one." The old man halted his wagon a few minutes later in the middle of a crowded square. Chatter and babble rang around them. 

"I can't take ya further in. 'Pologies, child."

Chell shook her head and bowed in gratitude. "No... It's already enough. Thank you... for your kindness."

Once again, the old man smiled warmly at her. Chell was already starting to grow comfortable with it, although she reminded herself that they were about to part. 

"It's a'right, it's a'right," he assured. "Happy to be 'o help to someone like ya... say, have I told ya that ya look a lot like my daughter when she was a young'un? No? Well, you really do. Maybe that's the reason why I took a sudden liking to ya."

Chell blinked when she heard that, not quite sure to respond. She  simply bowed again and moved to get off the wagon. 

"—Ah, and lil' one," the old man called out as Chell stood there. "I have one tip for 'ya. Avoid the pubs n' taverns 'round this place. Witch hunters usually go to them, and they're serious trouble around 'ere."

Chell made a firm nod. 

"Thank you...," she said with gratitude. "For everything."

The old man tilted his straw hat to her, a soft look in his eyes. Then, with a final wave of his hand and a parting smile, he steered his horses in a different direction and proceeded elsewhere, gradually receding into the jostle of the crowd. Chell remained standing there for a moment, watching his retreating figure slowly disappear. At the back of her mind, she imagined how peaceful the world might have been by now if all the people were like him. Even though the two had only been together for a few hours with most spent in silence, she had taken a deep liking to the old man. The thought that she would most likely never see him again saddened her.

A passerby bumped into Chell, jolting her back into reality. She inwardly scolded herself. This was not the time and place for stray thoughts.

She pulled her hood up, making sure that it hid most of her hair and eyes, since she had been told they were the traits that caught others' attention the most.  Warily glancing at the crowd of faceless people that pressed around her, Chell made sure to avoid any direct contact as she started walking. Even if the dead weren't there to guide her this time, she knew which place she needed to go first: somewhere away from people.

She silently darted through the streets. Although it pained her to admit it and angered her if someone pointed this out, Chell was short. There was, of course, a reason for this. However, her height still had its perks, seeing as she could easily blend in without much trouble. As she weaved in and out, Chell agreed silently that Uldard was indeed as populated as rumored, though not as much as the capital, Aurden. The mass of people she encountered seemed endless and suffocating. Usually, she would ignore them, but as this was her first time in the kingdom, she spent careful seconds studying her surroundings and familiarizing herself with her path, even though it was already an established fact among those who knew her that her sense of direction was worse than a child's. 

Still, Chell found herself craning her neck in different directions, analyzing the unfamiliar kingdom as much as she could.

It seemed like the old man had let her off next to a marketplace, which explained the considerable amount of people. Merchants were loudly advertising their products and offering deals to passersby. Vendors were shouting their wares. Buyers were clinking with gold in their pockets, patting their wallets occasionally to make sure it was still there. Chell lowered her head as she saw a few soldiers walking around. The rest were chattering among each other, children, men and women alike. Around her, high multi-colored bricked buildings lined the streets. Pubs, weapons & armor shops, restaurants, and inns were only a few of the establishments that littered the sides of the path. Overhead, clotheslines and flags bearing the kingdom's insignia were criss-crossed haphazardly along with damp clothes that swayed in the midday breeze.