Alphecca wore rugged clothes; his cloak hung at his shoulders, his body still toned by years of activity. A sword in his waist, where he clutched the handle by habit as he walked the path to the vilge chief’s house.

  The cluttering and walking sounds echoed in the vilge. The vilgers were preparing for the coming spring, and as their storage began to diminish, the need to replenish became urgent.

  Passing by the Doctor’s Hut, he saw a girl who was washing bloodied clothes ‘Something must have happened st night?’ he waved at the girl, and the girl waved back.

  ‘Maybe I will visit for my shoulder pains,’ writing a to-do list in his brain, he continued on.

  As the old man arrived at the vilge chief’s house, he could smell familiar herbs and incense; those were the herbs that aging folks used to keep their sores in check. He knew he was in the right pce. He knocked on the door. It opened, and an old woman wearing a duster and a coat appeared.

  As far as Alphecca could remember, she had been old ever since. “Lady Zhisata, you haven’t changed at all!” he greeted the old woman.

  A man was already inside; he wore bright yellow clothes. He bowed to Alphecca and to Lady Zhisata, “I will leave now,” he said, and moved.

  “Are you busy?” Alphecca asked as he was trying not to be rude.

  “No, it’s okay, Janus. You may leave. Thank you for the report!” Lady Zhisata tapped Janus on the back as he exited the house.

  Alphecca watched the man’s back. There was an eerie air hanging on the man’s shoulders, but Lady Zhisata pulled his attention back.

  “You said the same thing the st moon when you arrived and yesterday too!” She was compining, but there was no strain of annoyance in her voice. “Come in! How can I help you?” she asked with a light smile on her face. It was dear for her to see an old face she had known a long time ago.

  “I just want to catch up, this might be the st time I will ever be seeing you,” Alphecca leaned into the wall, and the old woman walked out the door.

  “I see, so you are looking for a pce to die,-” she also leaned into the wall of the house, “-It seems that the goblins didn’t even pose a threat,” was her conclusion, seeing the old man’s refreshed face. “Where are you going next?”

  “I’ll be going into the northeastern mountains and join the Explorer there,” the old man was looking far into the horizon; he had already made that decision a long time ago.

  “I see, when was the st time you visited the north?” The old dy sat on the bench near her doorway.

  “20 years ago or something like that, I’m not good at remembering things anymore,” the old man answered, scratching his head.

  “You should stay, it’s hard to die alone,” an honest suggestion from Zhisata.

  The vilge’s voice was a tone of peaceful normal life, but Alphecca knew it was not for him. “I’d have to say no to that!”

  “I knew you’d say that, but I had to ask anyway,” Lady Zhisata said with a smile. Their conversation then veered into something more nostalgic, touching on life’s nuances and memories from years long past.

  After a while, the old man abruptly ended their talk. “Then I will be going now, take care,” the old man said, tapping the old dy’s shoulders.

  The old dy watched his back with a sad smile. She knew this would be the st time he id eyes on him, but she still had to go on, so she threw words in her mind, ‘Goodbye old friend,’ and she went back inside her house.

  Every vilger he passed by greeted him. Well, everyone was in the PUB st night. It put a smile on his face as the vilgers would call him ‘Sir Hero!’ ‘Hello, sir Alphecca the Sword of Light!’ ‘Sir Bottle Buster,’ the st one was a new alias that was given to him because of his ability to down a whole bottle of alcohol.

  His destination was the shabby entrance of the vilge. His steps were unhurried as the warriors guarding the entrance greeted him; he replied with a nod. He continued past them and walked outside the vilge. The ground was a bit muddy, which lowered his mood a bit. He looked at the white and gray horizon and felt the loneliness.

  It was time to head to the Explorers’ base, but he yawned. ‘I still need to sleep,’ he thought, recalling the doctor's warning that the pills he had taken would make him drowsy.

  ‘Damn! That pill is effective!’ he moved his shoulders, double-checking that the pain was gone. The pill was made by the vilge doctor’s student, the girl with the butterfly knot hair who was cleaning the bloody sheets.

  ‘She will be a good doctor!’ An honest evaluation from Alphecca.

  Feeling rexed, he pulled a metal tumbler from his pocket, tracing the carvings on its surface. The familiar action stirred a sense of nostalgia. Almost by habit, he opened the tumbler and inhaled its scent. The aroma rekindled his energy, pushing away the sleep the pills demanded. His gaze shifted toward the east, to the mountain known as Mosspeak, just beyond the vilge.

  ‘It should still be there,’ he thought of the hut he made ages ago. There should still be a bottle of alcohol buried there, and alcohol helped him sleep. ‘Just a bit, I have all my time to myself now, I will be gifting the rest to the PUB owner,’ he smiled as he remembered his drinking buddy.

  The incentive of drinking and sleeping again made the old man’s feet gravitate in the direction of the mountain. Then again, a shadow in the far horizon caught his attention.

  It was the shadow of a person walking. As he watched it move, he noticed the figure heading toward the eastern mountains. ‘Explorers are hard workers!’ he thought, though he was merely guessing—no one sane ventured into the true frontiers, or his eyes were just pying with him. ‘Well, I’m getting old!’