Chapter 22
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We’re off to see the city, the wonderful city of…fake relationships?
I have never been pampered before, yet I can find no other word for how Samson has been treating me since Slate and I opened up access to the Mystic Forest.
Immediately following that event, he began preparations for our trip into Amecrest. Which involved ordering the pink lemonade dress from Ines.
He insisted that standing out was a bad idea, and no one would be in farmer’s wear.
He insisted that he pay for the dress. He insisted that there would be plenty of things I’d want to buy in the city, so I should keep my savings.
He’s been doing a lot of insisting lately.
I’m not certain how I feel about it.
“Come here,” he says when I leave my bedroom for the first time in my new pink lemonade dress, and my legs are abiding before I register the words, so maybe I’m not entirely miffed in the face of Samson taking authority.
The moment I’m arm’s length away from him, he lifts a headband that perfectly matches the dress and slips it into my hair.
“Perfect.” His smile fuels the heat in my cheeks. “Do you have everything you need?”
“I think so?” I do a mental check of what I have: my hygiene bag, which graciously only takes up one slot in my inventory; a different beautiful dress, which Samson also bought, for tomorrow; my pjs; my sword. “Are you sure it’s safe to bring my void bag?”
“Yup. Void bags are soul-linked. Only you can access the contents of your bag unless it binds with someone else, and if it gets lost, you should be able to track it down. It’s a very complicated and convenient magic. Most know not to mess with anyone who has been granted ancient blessings.”
I chew my lip. “Are you sure we should spend a night in the city? You say it’s not entirely too far to walk from here. We could do a round trip in a day. Save the money on an inn.”
“The night markets are interesting. I think you’ll enjoy them.”
There are night markets in the plans now?
I make a mental note not to appear invested in anything available at the stalls.
This crazy beautiful man is adamant about spoiling me to no end, and it absolutely does not bode well that I saw him make sure he had an entire empty bag in his supplies when he sorted them in the living room last night.
His arms fold. “It’s not the safest to travel open distances at night. Even if monster dens don’t usually open up in this area, monsters still wander after dark. It’s better not to chance it.”
“How come there aren’t any monsters that wander around here after dark?”
“Pyro.”
Ah.
That’s right.
In the game, part of his routine involved patrolling the entirety of Gem Ridge’s map, every single day. Learning that schedule was exhausting. But I did it. Because anything worth doing is worth doing obsessively.
Slinging his pack into place, Samson heaves a breath. “I can’t stress enough how important it will be to stay close to me once we’re in the city. I haven’t been there for years, but even back then, it was crowded. The last thing I want is for us to get separated.”
Were he anyone else, I’d suggest we hold hands. But unlike with Slate in the Mystic Forest, I might combust if I attempt to verbalize that request to Samson.
I’ve been falling asleep to the memory of him cuddling me on the couch every night—as a method of desensitizing myself in an effort to obtain future cuddles—but I still can’t recall the sensation of his lips against my neck without overheating. So, I say, “I’ll stay close.”
“Okay.” He visibly fortifies himself. “Lia will handle the animals…we’ll be back tomorrow afternoon…then we’ll prepare for the Sky Dungeon and rescuing these puppies of yours.”
I’m so stoked that my puppies are in view. I’ve always wanted a pet, but my parents treated me like one, and I could barely afford to take care of myself after I moved out, so having a pet has never been in view before.
A second after my spike of puppy excitement dulls, it occurs to me that Samson—the man who insisted I go to bed at a stupid time last night so I could be up at a stupid time this morning—is stalling.
“Samson?” I broach. “Are you okay?”
He looks back at me, and tension works its way out of his body.
It’s beautiful, the way he unwinds as our eyes meet. The gentleness that takes hold of him makes my heart trip over itself in a lame, futile effort to reach him.
His arm lifting beckons, so I go to him. He cups my cheek, then kisses my forehead. “I don’t like people,” he murmurs against my skin.
“I hadn’t noticed.”
A wry smile lifts one corner of his mouth. “I think it’ll be easier with you there.”
I nod. “Because I’ll obliterate anyone who’s mean to you with my sparkly sword.”
“Murder is highly discouraged,” he says through his smile.
He remains smiling as he, unprompted, takes my hand and leads me outside.
Due to the resulting static in my brain, I miss the trek across fields, around the outskirts of town, and toward the main road leading beyond the glen harboring Gem Ridge. It’s only when the trees break to reveal a rolling expanse that I look up off Samson’s stable grip.
This world…it’s…
Vast.
Incredible.
Scathed.
Muddy paths leave scars across the land. The same river that cuts through Gem Ridge and overflowed onto half of Samson’s and my farms stretches into the distance, bank worn away so badly the water it now holds looks more like a trickling creek.
“Will the city be okay?” I whisper, squeezing Samson’s hand.
Stern, he nods, pointing at a hill in the distance. “It was built on elevated land with few trees around. Worst case, it suffered some wind damage and the pumps that brought water in to the reservoir needed repairs, but we’re far enough out from the storm now it should be all right.”
I hope so.
Now that I’m staying with Samson and a few rain showers have washed the mud off the grass and buildings, I can almost pretend a devastating storm didn’t rewrite the terrain in Gem Ridge. After all, it’s classic farm sim MO to have debris scattered around.
That’s normal.
At this point, with the biggest repair quests handled, it’s easy to think things are normal.
But…we’re not quite there yet, are we?
And, really, I don’t know what normal for Gem Ridge looks like. I’ve only seen the aftermath in the game. The rebuild. The new normal.
Vale of Gems did an outstanding job setting itself up. It built a world that worked. It fashioned memorable characters with unique histories. It offered an illusion of depth.
But still it took being here to understand real lives were rerouted in the wake of the floodwaters. Real loss happened.
And it wasn’t contained to the pocket of the Ridge.
This entire area faced a natural disaster, and it will take time for the land itself to heal.
It doesn’t take long at all for the city walls to rise fully into view, boasting something of security.
Cobbled streets and bustling vendors welcome us in as Samson draws me closer to his side.
His body works as a barrier between me and everything as he winds his way through with a finality and familiarity I wouldn’t expect him to have after so many years tucked away on his farm.
Steadily we make it to a grand building labeled as none other than Amecrest’s Adventurer Guild. Samson’s eyes roll as I take in the gable roof, balconies, and grand double-door entrance. The two-story building dwarfs those around it, including a modest armory that Samson pushes us into.
The deep chime of a bell hooked to the door heralds our entrance.
“Welcome in!” a woman calls, emerging from a back room to settle herself at a counter dead ahead.
Rows of armor stands usher us up to her, and only once we’re securely at the head of the vacant room does the tension holding Samson like a sentry around my body ease.
Planting leather-clad hands at narrow hips, the woman lifts her chin, unsmiling. “What can I do ya for?”
Hefting a sigh, Samson tucks his hand into the coin pouch at his hip and retrieves a metal card, offering it. “First off, is this any good?”
The woman’s dark eyes flick down, then back up. “Ya, Guild Cards’ll always be good here. We appreciate past, present, and future service.” She rolls her jaw. “Hasn’t been updated in a minute, though, huh? Coming out of retirement, big guy?”
Firm, Samson shakes his head and references me. “Getting her started.”
The woman’s gaze hits me, and I stand a little straighter than is perhaps wholly necessary.
Or, actually, than is perhaps sufficient, because she says, “Daughter?”
“No.” Samson gives no further information about who the heck I am to him as he begins delineating his requirements for my armor. “I want something light, but covering.”
“Any particular blessings?”
“What rank is your blessed these days?”
“Sapphire.”
Samson’s head shakes. “I’ve Ruby connections.”
“Price range?”
“No limit. I want her to have the best.”
My heart jerks up into my throat.
Samson leans his palm against the counter, towering over the woman. “But…be aware this is far from my first time buying armor, and if the quality doesn’t match the cost, I will go elsewhere.”
Her dark eyes sweep across the revealed scar at Samson’s throat. “Looks like you could’ve done with better armor at least once.”
“Off-duty night attack,” Samson mutters. “I heard the scream of a child while I was at an inn on the outskirts of this very city.”
The woman wets her lips. “My mistake.”
“Yeah.” Shifting his attention to me, Samson holds out his hand. “I’ll take your pack while she gets you sized.” Without looking back at the woman, he asks, “How long will any adjustments take?”
“You can pick up tomorrow morning.”
“That works.”
After I give Samson my pack, the woman leads me into a back room and I experience a somewhat less invasive fitting than the one Ines conducted in front of Samson before. Roughly ten minutes later, I’m freed to discover Samson and I are no longer the only patrons in the store.