Day 14

"Keep quiet will you," Sarah hissed as she grabbed the handle of the bag and hoisted it up over her head with one jerk. The luggage pivoted around her shoulder and slid on to the top of the carriage, "In case it was unclear, there is a reason monster slayers do not signpost our abilities, lest it will be used against us."
"How exactly would anyone use a power like that against you?" Leo asked, as he climbed the ladder attached to the carriage and strapped his bag in.
Sarah pinched the ridge of her nose and shook her head, "Why on Earth would I ever tell anyone that, unless I had a very good reason? Now, please. Drop it. We have a long trip ahead of ourselves."

Wilmore slipped a pair of shimmering gold coins from his pouch, and handed it to the carriage rider; a lanky, baby-faced man in a bowler hat, a pair of round glasses affixed to the tip of his nose.
"The three of us, to Luragell." Wilmore said.
The dreary, grey eyes of the driver glanced beyond the frames of his glasses at the gold coins in his white-gloved hand, "Gentlemen... M'lady... I cannae take ya there. The path there be not safe. Bandits be lurkin' in the shadows of the woods... As do monsters. Life 'n limb be weighin' heavily against a few dukat."
"That is precisely why I am here." Sarah said, presenting her Order crest, "This emblem should suffice as proof of my ability. As long as you are with me, no harm shall come to you, nor any of your other passengers. This I swear, as my honour as a monster slayer."
The young driver's eyes scanned the emblem, and beheld the gold coins in his hand now covered by a layer of water droplets.
"Ti's true what they say? The sky beasts be risin' against mankind? That our time of reckonin' be upon us?"
"...All I can indulge is that if they are, I have no intention of letting them do so."
"...Gonna need another dukat to make ye trip." The driver extended his hand.
Wilmore sighed and placed a third dukat in his hand.
The driver wrapped his fist around the coins and slipped it into the pocket of his oversized coat, which made all the portions of his anatomy up to his chin look like they should be an inch lower than they actually are.
"Right, then. Git inside, and we'll be on the road momentarily." The driver picked up the reins and his whip.

With his folded umbrella hooked to his arm, Wilmore opened the door to the carriage and stepped aside so that Sarah could enter the wagon first. As she stepped on to the steps, she unhooked her scabbard from her belt, and placed it across her lap when she sat down.
When Leo stepped in, he turned towards Wilmore and fished up a brown paper bag from his coat pocket, "So, Wilmore... I was just thinking here, that if you really are so hungry I might tempt you with a handful of sweetmeats?"
Sarah leaned to look at them, "When did you get those, Leo? I do hope you are not suggesting you had those since before we boarded."
An awkward smile sprung to his face, "Ah, welll... Sure, not like I was in a condition to keep them down while on the ship. But really, they're not gonna be spoiled any time soon. Trust me on that."
Leo tried pulling one of them up for emphasis, and hoisted every single piece of hard candy from his bag with it, which had all been merged into a single cohesive clump of colourful, sticky treats. Leo looked surprised and disappointed, though a little impressed, at the big, slimey mess he fished up.
"But of course. They do however melt and clump very easily." Sarah confirmed.
"Ah... Would you still like some, Wilmore? I'm sure if you smashed the bag against the doorframe you could get some of them edible shards."
Wilmore backed away as much as he could while holding on to the doorhandle, as if merely being in the presence of that amalgamation would risk staining him, "I... Thank you, but no thanks. We have to stay focused during our investigation. So many strong flavours at once would surely only serve to distract our senses. I will simply have to make do, so keep them until needed will you?"
"Sure, sure... But if you change your mind..." Leo slipped the candy back into the bag, and the bag back into his pocket as he rubbed his palm along his coat as he seated himself inside the carriage.
Wilmore followed closely with his tophat in his hand, and shut the door behind him. He seated himself next to Leo with his umbrella and tophat resting on his lap, sweeping the top of the silk crown with his hand so as to wipe away any excess droplets.

The driver snapped his whip, inciting the two horses, one white and brown and one entirely brown, to launch themselves, "HIYA!!"
The carriage moved out of the gates, into the open fields overlooking the hills and mountains speckled with pine forest, which clearly would be a resplendant view of majestic woods, was the grey cover of the sky and the accompanying rain not rendering it so ominous and miserable. The wooden wheel splashed mud from a great puddle into the grasslands beyond the dirt road on which they travelled along towards the forests.
Finally on their way, Sarah faced the chief-clerk, "Wilmore, when we dine in Farneshold this evening, you will be presented with a feast only the likes of kings and nobles normally can partake. I believe you will find, then, that your hunger will become an asset. So please be patient."
"Oh, that's a fair point!" Leo chimed in, "Unless of course being hungry like a wolf will make him eat like a wolf!"
Wilmore raised an eyebrow, "Perish the thought! I would rather starve to **** than to resort to such unsightly behaviour, least of all in such prominent company. You will do well to remind yourselves that once we are done with our preliminary investigations, we shall be staying over at one of the most prestigious castles in Orderdom. Besides," Wilmore laughed, "It will never come to that. It is simply is not in my nature to do such things."
"It is more than that." Sarah stroked the top of her scabbard lightly with her index finger, as if petting a cat, "The mountain pass on which it is buit leads directly to Royal Makai... The hometown of the Demon Lord and her army. It is the first beacon of light against the forces of darkness. Throughout it history, the tales of countless monster slayers have begun there... Few of which have ended somewhere else. As far as training ground for slayers go, it is as iconic as the Citadell of Pallesandria itself. Many of us even call it... Home."

"Is... Is it your home?" Leo asked.
"...It is the place in which I swore my oath. And not a single step in my life since then has been taken that wasn't guided by that oath. It is a proud life. A lonely life. A life of perseverence and will... And..."
Sarah clutched the hilt of her rapier. The memories of that morning flooded back to her. The morning when, for the first time in her life, she was defeated. And what a humiliating defeat it was. "...I apologize. Talking about this subject has filled me with considerable apprehension. May I be excused?"
"But of course." Wilmore said, "It is not always easy for ones attention to wander back to the past, nor is it advicable. The work at present is where our focus is required."

Sarah looked outside towards the vast forests they were traversing. The rain had stopped, and as the horses reached the top of the steep hill they were climbing, she could behold the stretches of snow and ice reaching towards a humble village with straw-thatch roof from where icecicles grew downwards. They were nearly there, and it was there that Sarah would get her redemption. She might have fallen once, but no more. She would show that she had what it took to be a monster slayer. More than that, she would show that monster slayers is a goal worth pursuing.
She recalled how she woke up in the desert after her battle so many weeks ago. She had been taken away by a band of goblins lurking the ruins, and was in the process of tying her up to do unspeakable things with. That was when she woke up.
She had quickly made short work of the bondage, and sent the nasty goblins scattering when they witnessed her wraths. She managed to recover her blade and her cuirass... But her pride...

That would be recovered only today...

On the travelled road to Lugarell, a wagon rolled by pulled by a single old but trusted donkey, loaded with rolled up carpets, three weary travellers and a wheelchair. A long green and dark-tan apron dress hugged the modest curve of the driver, whose long hair draped over her back like a lucious curtain of spun gold, the curly hair spiralling into coils at their ends. As she held on to the reins with one hand, the other grabbed the dark amber bottle next to her, pulled her neck back and pushed the mouth of the bottle against her lips, taking a pair of deep swigs of the sweet rum. She gasped in delight, putting the bottle of firewater back against the empty seat next to hers after another job well done.

Meanwhile in the cargo, a white-haired succubus and a handsome man with blonde hair made out with one another, all the mean while their companion, his doublet and trousers covered in patches of various sizes, slept against the pyramide of rolled carpets with his hands propped up against his head.
Their hands explored each others' bodies, just as their tongues explored each others' mouths. The succubus hand reached towards the hem of her man's trouser, when she noticed the droves of snow among the grasslands beyond the road, and the layers of frost trailing up the singular blades of hay. With a frustrated sigh, she rolled off of her prince. She faced the man on her other side, watching the sleeping beauty as he made himself comfortable on the cargo. She pulled off one of the patches, finding that the tear that was under it when she attached it was no longer there. One by one, she removed the patches, until they were all gone and the man's attire was as good as new.

"Thomas...?" Simon pushed himself up and looked at his sleeping companion, "Thomas, we're almost there."
Ofelia pushed against his shoulder, shaking him, "Wakey, wakey, Sleepyhead! Time to get up!"
Thomas groaned, and blinked as he adjusted his eyes, stretching his arms in an elongated yawn, "Mmm... I wasn't sleeping, you know?"
"Good." Simon said, "Because that's what these carpets are for; they lull you into a deep sleep, and next thing you know you're rolled in one of them, on your way to the Demon Realm to be traded away like quality merchandise."
Thomas shook his head, staring at Simon with eyes spanned to the size of saucers, "That can happen? I mean, of course that can happen! That's why old Thomas is always vigilant, never sleeping on the job!"
He said that with all the confidence he could muster, but as he looked around, he had to wonder if he hadn't slept until winter fell over the landscape.