Kre knew that shortly after he was arrested, Pete had been sent to the nearest Courier Station to dispatch a message to the outpost at the Jayde Line. He also knew that such a message would take weeks to make it there and it’d be another month before they could make it back to Mintas, given the expected delay for the paperwork involved if they were even allowed to depart their post early. The greater likelihood would be that the military would graciously inform them that their son had already departed for the Citadel, there’d be little to no chance to catch up to him, and the best most reasonable course of action would be to remain at post and await further news from the military’s attaché at the Citadel.
Even though it was the most logical course of action, it still hurt that Kre might not see his parents until after he was sentenced for two murders. Even then, he might be denied visitation rights based on the severity of his crimes. ‘Stop it,’ he scolded himself. ‘You won’t be charged with murder because Terry was a Dragon Knight, and you were acting on his order and in defense of his life.’
Blinking away the fog of his inner thoughts, Kre saw Landar about to push open the Lodge door. Kre tried reaching out to stop his friend. He tried forming the words that would tell Landar that he wasn’t quite ready to face the townsfolk. He tried to force his ears to stop hearing the familiar sounds of people talking and eating from within the Lodge. But he failed to do any of those things.
As soon as the door opened, all of the heads turned and the traditional din of the evening meal stopped. The silence was practically unbearable. It felt like a physical force trying to shove Kre back, away from the peaceful people of his own hometown. It felt like it was trying to tell him that he didn’t belong here anymore. He almost took a step backwards but felt Landar’s arm holding him steady around his shoulders.
His friend gave him a soft yet reassuring squeeze and then smiled for the crowd. “I know right! I’m back! I gotta tell you guys, no one has ever finished their Archivist apprenticeship as fast as I did. I’m pretty sure I set a record there.”
Landar pulled Kre inside with him as the townsfolk started to return to their previous activities. Despite his proclivity for boasting and his competitive streak, Landar was a stellar friend.
It didn’t take long before Kre found himself seated at a table near the fire with two full plates in front of him. Mrs. Hadam and Mrs. Koraski were tut-tutting about the state that poor Kre was in and lamenting that he obviously didn’t eat enough given all of the nonsense that had been going on for the last few days. They carefully avoided mentioning that this might be one of the last meals he would have in Mintas for quite a while, but Kre could tell that the underlying sentiment was there.
Every now and again, folks would come over to the table and just pat Kre on the shoulder, as if reassuring him that everything would be okay. In reality, it seemed more like they were reassuring themselves, as if they were wishing him well so they could close this dark chapter in their town’s history and move on with their lives. Kre was thankful that Landar was there next to him. In most every case Landar took up the entirety of the conversational duties, deftly turning every topic back to something that referenced him or his accomplishments.
Kre said no more than a dozen words the entire night, all of which were dinner-based. Even though everyone refused to acknowledge it, he wanted his last meal here to be noteworthy. Mr. Koraski had even poured Kre a few mugs of his sweet apple cider, a treat he typically saved for celebratory events and holidays.
The young man probably had more cider than was good for him, but he didn’t care too much. Cider of any quality would be something he wouldn’t have access to for a long while. It was prohibitively expensive in other regions, since most of the apples were harvested from Mintas’ own Milo region. Since this region was relatively newly explored and settled, cider had not yet become a large export product and so had not yet become as popular in the other regions.
It was only a matter of time though. Settlements throughout Milo were growing fast and citizens of the other regions were starting to trickle in as tourists. ‘Perhaps,’ Kre pondered, ‘when next I step foot in Mintas, it will be a city completely unrecognizable to me. This Lodge will be replaced by a proper Inn and my friends will have all moved on and forgotten about me.’
These thoughts plagued his mind and, though he found only a small amount of comfort from the food and drink in front of him, it was comfort nonetheless and he welcomed it. He had no idea when he might next find that same comfort again.