Don't do it! (Pure)

What the hell are you thinking? You weren't the best of friends, with Mila always talking about how she will live in a big house or even castle when Dave finishes his training, becoming a proper knight, but that doesn't mean you have to **** yourself on her! Shaking your head you look up seeing the girl reaching the door.

"Thanks for stopping by Mila, I will see you soon"

You give her a small wave when she opens the door and looks back, waving back with a smile of her own before leaving. Deciding that you should start packing, better now than later, you make your way to your bedroom. Slowly taking a look around, memories of your past flood your mind.

Your mother playing with you when you were little, always that loving smile on her face when she looked at you. Your father wasn't an affectionate man, instead of showing you that he cared with actions. Giving you basic training in handling a bow, how to hunt, and moving stealthily in the forests. Sometimes he would even train you in swordplay and footwork, a mix of different styles he picked up as an adventurer in his younger years.

You wouldn't be able to fight a knight head on mind you, but a few bandits? With the right terrain and surprise on your side, you could probably take them. Your first - and only - kill years ago was a bandit, after all, saving Mila from being **** in the forest while she was picking herbs. That's how you know each other - and while you didn't have much in common she was always grateful for that day, maybe that's why she kept around these past few days?

You shake your head losing these thoughts, no need to complicate matters. You wanted to leave way earlier, try to make a big name for yourself in the capital, but your parents needed your help. With them now gone, nothing is holding you back, no girl and no real friends your age, acquaintances at best.

You pull a sheath from under your bed, containing one of the only valuable things your father left you besides his leather armor and bow. A simple iron sword, but of good craftsmanship from the local smith in the next big town down the road. Weapons aren't cheap, so while old your father and sometimes you took good care of the blade.

With a small smile, you fasten it to your hip, before slinging the bow and arrows leaning against the wall, right next to the door, over your shoulder. You are already wearing leather armor over your plain cotton tunic, you knew you were going to leave today after all. With one last, fond smile you drink in the sign of your room, before leaving right through the kitchen and out of the front door.

You make haste, you hate goodbyes and hope no one sees you leaving. The mayor knows of your plan, so he shouldn't be surprised when he finds you missing the next day and your connection to Mila isn't strong enough for you to care. Dedicated to making a good chunk of your journey in one go, you follow the simple well-used dirt road out of the village without looking back.

The capital was waiting, after all.