The two of them spent several days in the ruined village. While Dover restocked his bolts and tended to his equipment, he told Cynder a little of the village's history. The people of Anabathmis Village largely kept to themselves. They had their own farmland around the village and led fairly simple lives. They very rarely welcomed any strangers, and had no inns or taverns. In fact, as they were several miles from the nearest trade route, few even tried to visit. They maintained a small outpost next the road, and that’s where virtually all their interaction with the outside world occurred. The outpost is still there, though it's now controlled by one of the local Lords.

  Dover was one of the few outsiders who’d been accepted, and that was solely because he just appeared there at the right time. The villagers had been struggling to harvest one of their fields due to a sickness running rampant in their settlement. Apparently some of the local wildlife had gone mad and their infections spread to those they attacked.

  Dover spent several days helping with the harvest, eating with the workers, and even sleeping with them in the fields. It wasn’t until a beast attacked and he drove it off that anyone realized he wasn’t supposed to be there. Of course, once they realized he didn’t belong, they brought him to the village and locked him up.

  His prison was an uninhabited house, so escaping was trivial. As he was leaving though, he got distracted by the sick and gave them some simple medicine before heading on his way. The next time he was in the area, this time using the proper trade roads, they politely requested his presence and declared him an honorary villager.

  He’d swing by every few years and help out a bit, with the harvest or various illnesses that he knew how to treat. Though it has long since decayed, they even built a small shack for him near the fields. Knowing he wasn't much for socializing, it was their way of ensuring he knew he was always welcome.

  Then one year he found the town abandoned, no signs of what had happened. Nature had already started to encroach by the time he got there, so there were no clues either, not even a message carved into a tree. Seeking answers he headed to the trading post and found it poorly staffed by strangers. Travelers had found it empty and people started using it as a camp. Over time it grew into a small, independent village.

  What happened was a mystery which would likely never be solved.

  Once Dover finished resupplying, and Cynder finished what repairs she could on her own gear, they headed towards the trading post. Again, Dover simply walked in a straight line, slow enough for Cynder to follow, but not doing anything to mark the path. He wanted to let the memory of the village rest in peace. It’s what the villagers would have wanted.

  These days the trading post is fairly lively. Rather than simply appearing inside the settlement, Dover led Cynder along a roundabout route, bringing them to the well maintained trade road. Pausing to neaten their appearances, they approached the trading post like traditional travelers.

  Due to its remoteness, the location had a spiked wall around it. Each shoulder high spike was a single piece of wood driven into the ground. Though tightly packed, and carefully bound together, the fence wouldn’t deter a serious attack. It was built more to keep the animals and monsters away. Bright green banners flew at each corner of the settlement with the symbol of the Lord of Cedar Creek. The only entrance into the outpost was a simple wooden gate which was flanked by two guards in steel armor with the Lord’s crest on the chest.

  There was a small shack just outside the entrance for a single clerk to record the comings and goings of the village, though he didn’t ask more than their name and purpose. Past the fence there was an open air market with various merchants shilling their goods, a fairly large tavern and inn, as well as a handful of houses for the permanent residents. With the exception of the tavern, everything was made of wood. The tavern had stone walls and was one of the few buildings that had been around before Anabathmis disappeared.

  Once they were standing before the tavern, Dover turned to Cynder and simply said “We’re here.”

  “Thank you for escorting me Sir Guide, I know you declined payment, but will you allow me to pay for your room and meal tonight at least?” Having found civilization, Cynder quickly returned to her more formal mode of speech.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Dover shrugged, grunting a half-hearted “If ya insist m’lady.” He still wasn’t entirely sure he should leave her alone. They headed towards the tavern door and in an uncharacteristically polite gesture, Dover held it open for her, allowing her to enter first. Watching her enter, he carefully looked past her and studied the tavern's interior. There were a handful of merchants at the tables, several groups of adventurers, and a couple barmaids running about. It was a fairly standard tavern, though it was interesting that there were no signs of the Lord’s guards. Either the village was poorly guarded or they simply didn’t associate with the adventurers.

  Cynder approached the counter where the innkeeper waited. “Good Sir, we are travelers seeking rooms for the night.”

  Dover groaned internally, she really had no common sense. The owner was a robust individual, someone who had clearly worked his way up from the bottom to purchase this inn. Simply looking at his scarred hands made it clear he was someone used to working, and fighting, for what he wanted. While he likely wasn’t evil, he certainly wasn’t running the inn out of the kindness of his heart.

  With a broad, predatory, smile he welcomed her. “Welcome m’lady. We just so happen to have one room left. It’ll be one gold per night, plus...”

  “Cut the crap Graco.” Dover bellowed from the entrance, his voice loud enough to stop the conversations in the room. He let the door slam behind him after entering. “I’m her Guide.”

  With everyone’s attention on the loud mouthed individual who entered, some of the greener adventurers tensed and readied their weapons. They looked towards the innkeeper to see how he’d react.

  He visibly swallowed, probably remembering the last time Dover came by. The damage had been extensive. He cleared his throat, his eyes changing from those of a predator to prey, “my apologies, I misspoke. That will be two silver, plus another for your meals.”

  Cynder looked back and forth between the innkeeper and Dover, and then carefully placed three silver coins on the counter. The innkeeper's eyes widened when he saw the coins. Anyone who dealt with money knew that Dragon Coins were worth more than typical silver pieces. His eyes flicked towards Dover, as if seeking permission, and was relieved to see that Dover had already turned his attention elsewhere.

  “Here’s yer key. I’ll send up some water and wine to help you settle in.” The unexpected generosity caught Dover’s ear and he turned his attention back to the counter. Cursing inwardly he remembered how ignorant of money Cynder was. He'd likely have to lecture her about money again, as well as inspect any food which was sent up. He also realized he had inadvertently agreed to share a room with her, even in the abandoned village he’d given her a room of her own.

  As they headed past the innkeeper towards the stairs, Dover hissed a final warning “I expect we’ll have a quiet stay Graco.” Then the pair disappeared up the stairs leaving the now mildly sweating man behind them.

  The rooms upstairs were fairly simple and small. They had two beds, a window, and nothing else. There was a nearby outhouse, and a bucket for any nighttime needs. When they got upstairs, Dover dropped his pack on the floor by the far bed while Cynder looked around the room. After she carefully placed her bag on the bed, he spoke with a sigh. “Show me yer coins.”

  Startled by his demand, she did. She was surprised by how readily she followed his instructions, just now realizing how quickly she had come to trust him. Unsure what to expect, she looked at him intently. There was no greed in his eyes, instead she saw a mix between caution and curiosity. Taking one coin from her hand, he held it toward the light entering from the window and looked at it closely. The coin was similar to those issued by Driks. The star was the same, but the symbols on the winged side were completely different. He then bit it, hard, and inspected it again.

  Apparently satisfied he flipped it back towards her, with it landing on her bed. “I won’t ask where ya got those, it doesn’t matter, but ya should at least know their worth.”

  “What do you mean?” Cynder was puzzled. She had noticed the innkeeper was happy to receive the coins, but she’d given him what he asked for, and Dover hadn’t objected to the price so it was presumably reasonable.

  “I’m not gonna teach ya about money. I don’t waste my time with it. Still, I’m gonna give ya advice. Dragon Coins are rare. Silver coins like those, treat 'em like gold. And know that people will kill for ‘em. A couple copper dragon coins, if ya got ‘em, would have covered our needs. Careful who ya show those too, and as soon as ya get to a real town trade ‘em at one of the guilds.”

  It made a lot of sense to Cynder, and explained some of why her siblings had returned in such poor condition. She also realized something, there was a lot more that she didn’t know then she thought. “My Guide,” she began, “would you continue to accompany me at least as far as a city in which I could exchange my coins?”

  Dover grunted his assent saying “not like I have a choice...”