Calla’s journey to the capital had begun.

Her parents had wished her good luck in an emotional affair. Her father was sobbing and wailing phrases about how his baby is growing up, while her mother simply placed her hand on her daughter’s shoulder and said, “Give it your all, and make sure to write to us.”

When Calla reached the capital, she would submit her application to Nimbus. For now, there was a long way ahead of her. Her family had requested a carriage service, one that took anyone with money that could fit on the vehicle. Calla assumed it wasn’t glamorous, but she’d only ever ridden in a farmer’s wagon, so it was the fanciest cart she’d ever been on. The route was long, but not arduous. 

They’d first travel to Rove, then through the ruins of Journey. There, they would have to deal with border control. Calla carried onto the letter from the department of magic for proof of reason. After that, they’d pass through the edge of the Central Range, a mountain range in the middle of the country, and successfully enter the empire. Calla wasn’t sure of the names of the stops past that.

Calla was sitting next to an old woman in a blue cotton cloak with a cane laid across her lap. She was a fine enough passenger, not making a fuss, simply staring out the window as the trees traveled passed. 

This was the farthest she’d ever gone out of the village. A foreign feeling filled her chest, though it was probably just nerves. From books, she’d heard of a feeling called “homesickness,” perhaps it was something like that. Calla wasn’t familiar with it, and her mother didn’t feel it for Voyage, if anywhere at all. Her father almost never left, though he was always extra emotional when he returned from a stint just a mile out.

To pass the time, she’d brought along a book, one that her father had been reading about mages, but it was more of a story book than informative. She’d also discovered that reading in a carriage made her terribly nauseated.

The old lady suddenly, though it was slow for anyone more youthful, turned towards her, looking up into Calla’s red eyes, “Dear, where are you off to?”

Prior to her leave, her parents had given her a long spiel about ‘stranger danger.’ In this instance, though, she felt little harm informing the small, wise-looking lady, “I’m off to Laurel,” she said, smiling.

The lady’s eyes were a milky white, though she seemed to get some value out of studying Calla’s face. “That’s quite the trek for one as young as you. Off to serve?”

She assumed the old woman was referring to a warrior’s required military service. “Ah… no, not exactly.”

“Damn shame,” the old woman chuckled shakily, “You’ve got some good muscle on your arms,” she nodded approvingly.

Calla tilted her head inquisitively, “Are you from Laurel?”

The woman shook her head carefully, “In a way… I come from Alta, a village hidden in the valleys of the Central Range. Some call us Centralites.” 

“Wow! I had no idea people lived in those mountains,” Calla grinned. “Is it super cold?”

She nodded her head, laughing low in her throat, “Very. If it weren’t for our many fire mages, we would not be able to settle there. I happen to quite like the cold.”

Calla shuddered, “I hate the cold. I’m at my best basking in the warm sunlight!”

“Hmm, well, you’ll have a hard time in the Laurel winters. They’re much harsher compared to here. In the mountains, it’s winter year-round.”

“I don’t even own winter clothes,” she frowned.

The old woman placed a wrinkly hand on the girl’s knee, “You’ll get used to it in time, dear.”

. . .

The wagon slowly and nauseatingly made its way to Rove.  A wooden sign signaled their arrival into the city borders. It wasn’t a big enough city to have walls, instead it was surrounded by a simple fence. Two guards stood near the gate they were approaching.

The wagon driver, Calla hadn’t asked his name, handed one guard some sort of permit. The guard nodded, pulling the gate open for them. Once they were inside, the driver turned around and addressed them, “I’ll be ready to depart from Rove at the 2nd late out. Please be at the North Gate by then.” The riders agreed and exited the cart.

“Finally!” Calla exclaimed as she stretched her arms. It felt incredible after sitting for so long.

The old woman glanced at her, “Kid, have you ever been to Rove?”

She shook her head, gazing inquisitively at the short lady.

“It’s a real boring place,” she huffed disapprovingly, “It’s got nothing but rocks. This place makes money from fishing and the mine, nothing else.” 

Calla laughed, “I happen to think rocks are quite interesting!” It was now the fact she didn’t know the old woman’s name entered her mind. “Say, what’s your name, ma’am?”

“I’m called Era,” the now-named old woman answered, “You, dear?”

“My name’s Calla, like the flower!” she grinned, standing proudly.

Era gained an odd look on her face, “You’ll get some stares for that name in Laurel.”

“Really, why?” Calla asked, leaning in close.

“Nobles there like naming their kids after flowers,” she explained. “But you’re obviously not Laurel nobility,” Era chuckled, “Quite the opposite, in fact.”

Calla could recall hearing that the Emperor of Laurel had very rich, dark skin. She wasn’t sure where, though. “Oh well!” She brushed it off, “It’s my name. I guess I could go by Callie?”

The old woman shook her head fondly, “It’s your name, dear Calla, wear it proudly.” She glanced at the clock town poking out into the sky, “I’ll be off now. See you at two.”

“Bye,” Calla waved. She went towards the center of the city, taking in the unfamiliar sights. The roads were cobblestone, something that was exclusive to Voyage’s center square, and the buildings two-story. The building style was similar enough, brick-mud walls supported by wooden beams. It was still Daphne, after all. She hummed as she ‘ooh’-ed and ‘awh’-ed at the sights. According to the clock tower, it was just past the eleventh hour. She had a few hours to sight-see.

She made it to the city center fairly quickly. In the middle sat an ornate stone fountain, surrounding it were some market stalls with multicolored cloth coverings. It was like something Calla’d only seen in picture books. “Wow…” she whispered to herself, red eyes almost sparkling. She walked over to one of the stalls, one with a blue tarp over it. A man sat behind it, a leather hat covering his eyes as he rested in a wooden chair. The wares seemed to be rocks, just like Era said. They were nicely smoothed, likely found in the North River which was nearby. “Hello, sir!” Calla greeted him.

The man flinched, then slowly sat up with one hand while the other took the hat off his face and set it on his head. “Talk a little softer, wouldn’t you?” He huffed, “You nearly scared me half to death.”

Calla apologized. “My bad! I just wanted to ask you about what you’re selling. I’ve only ever read about rocks like these,” she said as she picked up one of the shiny stones.

“You’re not from the river area, are you?” he asked.

“Nope! I’m from Voyage,” she replied. “What’s this purple one?”

“That’s an amethyst. It’s a bit durable enough for jewelry and people enjoy the color,” the man explained. The man met Calla’s eyes, “Hm. I’ve got just the one for you.” He bent down, rifling through what appeared to be boxes full of extra stones. He pulled out a rock in a perfect, smooth oval. It had red, black, and a nice turquoise interspersed. “This is called Sonora’s Sunrise. It matches your eyes and contrasts well with your… warmness, I suppose.”

Calla picked it up, inspecting it in the light. “It’s quite nice!” She agreed. “My grandmother always said I should wear more turquoise.” She turned back towards him, “How much is it?”

“You got anything to trade?” he said instead.

She hummed, taking her bag off her back and digging through it. “I’ve got this leather bracelet I made,” she offered. It wasn’t anything that special, just a braid of leather with three glass beads sewn on. Per her mother’s instructions, she’d made a few to barter with on her journey to Laurel. 

The man nodded approvingly, “I’ll take that and throw in a few extras for you.” He grabbed the sonora sunrise, the amethyst, and a few other smaller stones from his selection and put them in a cloth pouch. “Have a good day, miss.”

“You too!” She smiled, grabbed the pouch, and waved as she left.

. . .

It was now ten minutes before the second late hour, and Calla was making her way to the North Gate. She’d gone to a restaurant and had a very satisfying meal, then stopped by the library to see if they had any books about mages. Apparently, mages don’t like gloves because they were historically used to suppress their power.  Exo-magic, as it turns out, generally flows out from the hands. It was similar to how warriors would spread their mana throughout their entire body, but it had to travel out of the hands first. Calla’d tested it just a little, and discovered she could make a slight breeze, but didn’t feel comfortable going any farther than that.

“Ah!” she called out, “Hi again, Era.” She walked over to the old woman.

“Hello, Calla.” Era smiled, “Did you enjoy your time in Rove?”

Calla nodded, “I did! It’s a lot busier than my hometown.” 

“Good, good. You’ll have a lot more to see, especially if you go to Honor,” the old woman patted her back.

“Honor?” Calla asked, “Is that the capital?”

She nodded, “Indeed. It’s one of the largest cities in Edelweiss.”

“Wow!” the younger one smiled, “I’m excited to see it! A little intimidated too, though…”

Era laughed, in that comforting, old-person way, “You’ll get used to it in due time,” she assured her.

As they chatted about their doings in Rove, their horse-pulled wagon arrived at the gate. “Glad to see both of you made it on time,” the driver nodded approvingly, coming to a stop to let them get on.

“I’m just glad there’s a clock tower!” Calla said, “In Voyage, there’s only the bell at the hour.”

And with a brief exchange with the gate guards, they set off to the ruins of Journey.