Author's note: This chapter has no sex scene just yet. But it introduces a character, who'll we get to know more down the line.
There will be plenty of sex scenes in later chapters. For now, I'm just trying to set the foundation and the tone of the story.
Thank you for continuing to read these stories.
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John left his post as soon as the near absolute darkness was tinged with the oncoming sun, making it but a heavy shade of blue. He left so hastily that he did not have the heart to douse the flames. Which had meant that he venture out so far out of the map's edge up to Lamppost number thirteen.
The fog that crept encouraged his early departure.
The village was mostly composed of small squat houses. The watch tower is located on the westernmost edge of the village's boundary.
If it had been scrawled on any official map, the tower would just be a near teetering dot where it would be heavily contested that it even exists. And beyond it lay the absolute unknown.
He trailed past sleeping houses, a few of these already had their chimneys smoking, signaling the wake of some of the older family members to prepare for the day. He made his way as more and more houses were replaced by actual wooden structures, these were not squat stone holdings but rather made in the fashion popular in the faraway cities. Purely made of wood, save for the foundation in which was cobbled stone.
He passed through these outlook of buildings, which made for the center of the village, and out the other side and into the eastern half of village.
Should anyone keep at this direction and out of the bounds of the village, they'd find themselves to more and more settlements. At about a month's journey, so John had heard anyway, one can arrive at first of the cities.
Built upon near the crossroads, fit for the coming traffic from the fur trappers in the high forests and towards the other outlying towns.
Now more than ever he needed a drink. He was never much of a drinker.
The town tavern was located on the other side of town. It took a bit of a walk.
There was a girl working the tavern. Everyone else had either gone home. He could hear the clatter of the kitchen, probably preparing for the breakfast to serve.
They didn't really know one another but it was a small village. And word gets around. Her name is Irmina.
The tavern was a massive barn like construction. It somewhat resembled the more popular style, even accommodating a couple of rooms for any worn travelers.
He went in, and settled himself on a table.
He toyed with his thumbs and fingers. He wrung them out, trying to coax the blood to run through them. His hands was unbelievably cold and frozen, the only way a man does, when he stood face to face with something he had feared.
He finished the motion by running his hand on his face. His eyes felt heavy, having spent the night on the watch.
This mark another first for him.
For as long as the tavern had stood, he had never once entered it. It always seemed like an adult activity. He was nineteen, a man by the village's norm. An adult
But still, John did not feel quite like an adult. It all seemed like yesterday when he was but a child, heedless of the responsibilities and weight of reality. He could still remember it all so vividly his, memories as a child.
To John, being an adult meant one had a firm hold of one's responsibility and self. Confident of whatever direction one might take and hold true to its course.
He didn't even know what he was to do with his life. Every step he took was riddled with doubt and indecision, even now he is uncertain of the supposed path that he had taken by continuing his family's legacy of Lampwatcher.
It was too much for him. His grandmother did remark that he think too much.
Irmina saw him. And made her way towards him. He remembered Irmina to be a daughter of a travelling merchants. He remembered instances of her staying her in the village only to go with her parents on their trading route. And once more to stay back in the village. This pattern kept on till the years went by.
