“Despite the frugality of their resources and the unlucky position of their planet, the Wrothclad managed to rise surprisingly quickly in our rankings after the post-acclimation period.

  This was a particularly contentious point of discussion for many of my colleagues, for they also didn’t showcase much of their potential during the integration process.

  It was speculated that their actual baseline prowess was enough to cruise through the trials due to the accumulation phase alacrity, but this is another point of debate, for other similarly featured races had instead parameters well within the median measurement points.

  Thus, we begin my thesis: they succeeded not despite, but due to their lack of resources and less than stellar geological placement. The few resources meant that an integration showered them in raw power, and many opponents to test themselves against made for a good whetstone once they reached out from their homeland.

  This led to the event that everyone now knows as the Dawnfall.

  An entire civilization united as one, simply because a stray artillery hit glassed a convoy of nonmilitant personnel? Preposterous, historians say.

  In the endless expanse of the universe, very few civilizations seem to maintain sight of ethics, morality, right, and wrong. Cold pragmatism is often the winner.

  And yet, here comes the Wrothclad. Dangerous in battle, but disjointed, insular, and primitive. Honorbound to defend their old and their young. Displaying traits unsuited to thrive on a bigger scale.

  Nothing to write home about.

  Then why am I writing about them?

  Because when the ashes of civilizations fell on the ground, nobody else was alive in their cluster.

  Not their enemy, puppeteered to gain a fleck of power for the one owning them.

  Nor their master, Dawn, a demi-ascendant that by all rights should have been enough to wipe out their race on his own.”

  History of the Outer Wars, by Tessi Raven, Headmistress of the Chroniclers.

  The spectators' crowd thinned as quickly as it had formed, the hardy townspeople already getting back to their tasks now that a victor had been chosen.

  Omri followed their example, walking towards Eric to claim his rightfully won prize, and winced a bit at the sight of Sebastian, who had sat back on the ground, forlornly looking at a distant spot in the sky, while one of his friends patted his back, trying to comfort him.

  Newly crowned and magnanimous, the young hunter decided instead to approach his foe's father to make good on their bet, and the man was more than happy to take on the task.

  While he already knew that Ormi’s bear hunt was a good enough showcase of his skills, the young man's latest feats had impressed him even more, renewing his interest in the mysterious newcomer.

  And apparently, his way to show respect was simply to follow the bet’s terms to a tee, quickly weaving between stalls while leading the younger hunter on his quest.

  His shopping list was nothing complicated, and they managed to find everything Omri was looking for: a good amount of seeds, to add some variety to his and the hermit's diet, a set of steel tools, an immediate and tangible upgrade considering his previous means, and a supply of soap and spices that would hopefully last until his next trip to civilization, alongside a few knickknacks he thought would make a good gift.

  They also visited the town seamstress to grab some undergarments he sorely needed.

  His makeshift leather vest had served him well, but when it came to comfort, cotton beats hide every day of the week, and after a few days spent in the niceties of civilization, the boy's chafing armor desperately needed the addition.

  And while he did not think they would see much use while in the wilds, he also bought a couple of sets of sturdy clothes that would, hopefully, serve him well in his next visit to town.

  With the first round of shopping done, it was time to haggle, and this time Mabel wasn’t there to help him.

  The shoemaker and his daughter, Beth, were already behind their stall working when the duo arrived.

  Spotting them, the man rose from his seated position, first greeting Eric and then settling his gaze on Omri with an expression that breathed anticipation.

  "Eric! Good to see you, and with you, if I'm not mistaken, is the cause of all the commotions of these past few days, no? Ahahahah. Times are changin'! Ours is a boring little place, and now you can't even get sick for a week without missing an impromptu festival," he concluded with a note of cheekiness in his voice.

  “Good to see you healthy, Kenneth, and if things keep going this way, by next week, you won’t be able to skip a day without some shenanigans happening!” he replied with the same cheerful energy.

  The cobbler's brow rose in surprise, smiling widely at the bantering man before focusing back on his client, “Omri, right?”.

  “ Well, I guess everyone already knows me, then. Nice to meet you, Mr Kenneth, glad you've recovered, your daughter was very professional with me when I first met her,” he replied with a little bow.

  A hint of mirth became visible on the shoemaker's face as he squared Omri from head to toe before he gently patted his lass on the shoulder.

  “She’s a good kid, and I’ll be happy to leave her my shop someday. But from what she told me, I half expected to see a beastman looking straight out of a knight’s tale, and instead, here we have a well-behaved squire in training politely shopping for his liege.”

  A red-cheeked Beth quickly slapped the older man’s neck with a squeal.

  “ Father!”

  Kenneth, unrepentant, heartily laughed, still addressing the boy.

  “ So, how can we be of service today?”

  Omri, faintly amused by the byplay, smiled before looking at the various footwear showcased.

  Grabbing a pair of sturdy-looking leather boots, he pointed at their bottom.

  “Well, for starters, I would like something like this, with a riveted sole more suited for the forest terrain, and then I would like to leave you some pelts to make me a custom job.”

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  Kenneth, looking at a nearby crate, quickly answered.

  “Mmmh, let me check if we can help you. Grab a seat, I’ll have to take your measurements. Beth, please fetch me the double-soled goatskin pair.”

  Omri sat down on the offered stool, took off the borrowed shoes, and let the man do his job, relieved when he appreciatively nodded a couple of times.

  In the meantime, Beth had retrieved the boots for her father and was now standing behind the counter, scribbling on a ledger while talking with Eric.

  “ Yes, as I thought. Try those on, and explain what you need on the other pair.”

  Shrugging, he slipped both on his feet and got up, appreciating the comfortable sensation.

  Despite his playful personality, the craftsman seemed to take pride in his job, showing it with the quality of his products.

  Truthfully, Omri did not need to change much from the original design, but a couple of tweaks would go a long way for his needs.

  “ Yes, well, the biggest thing is the material. I’ve met with several beasts that I would say were…peculiar, and I found that their hide is generally tougher, more flexible, and more resilient. I would provide you with this high-quality leather, and in exchange, you would fit me and pay me for the excess pelts. For the boots, I would need something similar to these, a bit larger in the front, with reinforced soles and a couple of buckles. And an inner sheath on the calf, if possible.”

  The man, who was almost salivating as he described the “monstrous” beast's leather, became more thoughtful as he went on, before settling his gaze on Omri and answering his request with a firm handshake and a promise.

  “Well, count me in, Omri. It’ll take some time to make you a proper pair, but I guarantee you I’ll make something worth your wait.”

  Looking at his daughter explaining something to a white-looking Eric, Kenneth gave a satisfied laugh.

  “ Beth should have already put your purchase on Eric’s tab, I swear she knows our inventory better than I do. We’ll talk more shop once you’re back from your travels. I need to take a good look at my ledgers because honestly, I wouldn’t know what to pay you for something like that bear.”

  Wiggling his toes in his new purchase, made twice as comfortable by knowing he wouldn’t need to pay a dime for it, Omri nodded and gestured at his feet.

  “Those are already a proper pair, but I get what you mean. And I don’t have a clue either, but I’m sure we can arrange something that will make both of us happy. Now, I still have a stop before I leave, and I don’t want to make my landlady wait. Until next time. Mr Kenneth, Beth.”

  The cobbler’s father and daughter power-duo wished him good luck on his travels and waved him away, while Eric, his purse now conspicuously lighter, was busy muttering curses intertwined with his son’s name as he fumed on a nearby stool.

  “Uh. It seems like violently dissociating is their family defense mechanism,” idly mused Omri, not willing to disturb the older man's ritual.

  He quickly and sneakily half shouted a thank you, followed by a goodbye, to the raging hunter, before moving towards Mabel's house to collect his things.

  He still had a few hours before midday, leaving him plenty of time to say goodbye to the kind old lady who had looked after him for the last few days.

  As usual, she was in the kitchen, intent on preparing a bundle of some kind.

  He cleared his throat and began talking with a steady voice.

  “Maple, before leaving, I wanted to thank you for your hospitality; you welcomed a stranger into your house without question, you fed me, and you clothed me, giving your loved one possession without asking anything in exchange. A gesture I will never forget,” the young man said with a deep bow.

  "Oh, come on, I thought we were over all the formal speeches by this point! Instead, here we go again...And then, pray tell me, why are you talking as if we will never see each other again? Will you live a long, happy life knowing you left Old Mabel behind, never showing your pretty mug?" she replied with her raspy, cheerful voice, but this time, some real insecurity bled through, her mirth not enough to hide her concern.

  Smiling widely, Omri calmly said, “No. No, of course, I'll visit you, but I can’t really give you an exact timeline. I still have a lot to do around here, and I don't know how long I'll stay in the archipelago. But whenever I’m in Olfsend, I’ll take the chance to come and spend some time with my favorite lady ”.

  "Ugh, I get it, boy, I get it! Just like my son, eager to strike out in the world. But you best not forget your words! In two months' time, we’ll be hosting our annual festival. We may not have much in the way of things, but we surely know how to party hard. It’s a wonderful time and you shouldn't miss it.”

  Omri thought about his goals back on the island, sketched a mental timeline, and nodded, not seeing any particular downside to agreeing. More time spent eating properly was never a bad thing in his books.

  “Don't worry, I won't miss it.”

  One of her weird grunts of assent echoed in the small room, and satisfied, she handed him the bundle, neatly prepared and secured during their conversation.

  “Here,” she gruffily said, “at least you’ll have something good to eat for the journey.”

  It seems she was determined to give him the sniffles. The boy gladly accepted the gift, a now familiar warmth spreading in his chest. It would be useless to refuse, he thought, and probably if he tried, Mabel would force him to eat it in front of her. He definitely was not looking forward to the treat.

  Omri carefully laid Mabel’s husband's clothes on the bed of his guest room, feeling a little sting at the edges of his vision, before setting down the borrowed boots, and they said their final goodbyes, the elderly lady's also glistening eyes following the boy as he gathered his things.

  The sky was clear, and a faint breeze kept tussling with his locks as the boy walked back into the jungle, to the other side of the island, to eventually reach his boat, still carefully hidden from anyone but himself.

  By now, midday was left well behind, and without wasting time, he loaded the vessel with goods before setting off on his return trip.

  For the second time, he was blessed with a very boring voyage, and after two days of rowing, he was once again close to his home.

  Unbidden and unannounced, the tug on his chest appeared again, this time almost as strong as during that first night, that first fight for his life against the sea itself.

  That same call again, always present at the back of his mind, and now much sharper than before.

  The jugged coast in the distance was a familiar sight, and as he approached, a strange sensation struck him.

  His chest rose and fell, relaxed and steady, his lungs filling fully for what felt like the first time in ages.

  It was as if he had been stuck high on a mountain, the thin air not enough to properly fuel him, and now, back home, he rediscovered what it felt like to properly breathe.

  Just a few days away from the weirdness of his home was enough for him to feel the difference between this strange place and the rest of the archipelago.

  He would probably have to readjust his theory about all the wilderness being as dangerous as it was here. Something was afoot, and the youngster was eager to discover what.

  “I have to find out what's going on around here. If I wasn’t certain before, now it’s clear. There is still more boiling beneath the surface; animals and plants are just a piece of this equation. But now I have something even more pressing to worry about,” he thought as he headed back to his camp.

  After a few hours spent jogging at a steady pace, he arrived at the passage leading to the hollow and cautiously pushed his way into the cave.

  The boy was back on high alert; he had been absent for a few days by now, and the chance that another animal had started using the cave could not be ruled out.

  Fortunately, this was not the case, and reaching the hermit proved to be nothing more than a walk in the park. Or well, in the jungle, so not as relaxed, but still not something that would worry Omri too much.

  Soon, the cries of his avian hosts sounded through the sky, and once he reached the familiar clearing where Herbert resided with his brethren, he was excitedly greeted by the man who was already waiting for him.

  Omri cast an accusing glance at the birds watching him, perched high in the branches of the giant tree, knowing they were the ones responsible for ruining his surprise.

  “CA CAWW, welcome back, boy. Happy to see that you made it out alive and in one piece! Your tale told me of your mettle, but you never know! For what it’s worth, you could have slipped on a rock and died.”

  The hermit nodded to himself before adding.

  “ But I was sure, Craah, that nothing barring death could have affected your return! After all, how could you resist the siren melody of my majestic brothers?” said the feathered man, before giving him a wide grin.

  “Welcome back, lad.”