Epsilon Twilight
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10. Caravans and Blisters
🕑 Added 2025-07-23 11:26:44 +0000 UTCAgatha wasn't forced to make all the journey to Knight's Ascent by herself, but that was far from a saving grace. First, her mother and a handful of villagers accompanied her to the closest city of Cors. At some point as they walked down the dirt road, it became clear that her mother was more nervous about her journey than herself. Yes, it was scary having to tour the whole kingdom to make it to her destination, but at the same time, Agatha was excited about finally being free of the invisible chains that were the village of Malachite and its inhabitants.
When they arrived at Cors, which was already quite the walk as it took them around three hours, her mother and the villagers guided her to a caravan. One of the villagers had to sell some things, and because he had family on Carduza – a city halfway through her destination – he was to accompany Agatha all the way there. All in all, this was the best outcome anyone could have wished. Agatha had expected to be alone all the way there and she… was thankful that at least a familiar face was to keep with her for that long.
"I want you to remember one thing," Esmeralda told her daughter as the caravan was about to depart. "Skyscraper Academy might be a military institution and nobiliary titles might not mean much there, but they still do. Don't antagonize any nobles, Agatha."
"I won't, Mom," the girl told her mother as she grasped the seamstress' soft hands.
"Promise me," the blond woman pressed her forehead against the dirty-blond girl.
"I do," Agatha replied softly, and Esmeralda kissed her on the forehead.
"Good," she smiled at her. "Now be sure to keep that scholarship. A year at Skyscraper will be better than a whole education at most academies, but you should try to hold on as much as you can. If your arms fail you, you should use your legs. If your legs fail too, then use your teeth. Keep latching on till the last minute. This is a curse, but also a boon. With blood, sweat, and tears, you can push through everything."
"I know," the daughter smiled back at her and hugged her with all her might. "I will show everyone how I can do everything they can and more with a single agate."
"Show them how bright your little sapphire can shine," Esmeralda added once they broke their embrace.
"That's a given!" Agatha said with her pendant-bound agate in hand before rushing to the already moving caravan. "You will hear about the greatness of Agatha of Malachite before we see again, Mom!"
Agatha didn't allow herself to hear her mother say goodbye. That would have made everything too real, and she preferred to think she was still in a dream.
The expectation and fear of the departure quickly faded into repetition. As a poor villager, she and the other man actually couldn't afford to ride the carts. The only reason why she had been carried all the way to Malachite before and after the statal examination was because those carts were commissioned by the kingdom. And this was an independent merchant convoy, so if she wanted to hitch a ride, she was expected to pay.
At least the merchants weren't absolute monsters and they would allow them to ride the carts during the night so the caravan could still keep moving, but that still meant she would have to walk for fourteen hours per day after taking into account rests and whatnot.
"You know, I'm quickly regretting my decision," Agatha told Cristobal – the villager of Malachite she was travelling with – during the morning of the second day a bit after they woke up. "My feet are already full of blisters, and I can't feel my legs."
"I'd say the latter is a positive," the man chuckled. "Travelling is never easy. Even more so without a ride, but hey, safety beats discomfort, does it not?"
"I guess…" The girl sighed. "But I feel like only a corpse will make it to Knight's Ascent by this point instead of me."
"If you manage to survive at least we can guarantee that you will have powerful calves," Cristobal continued to smile. "A military institution it might be, but most students are nobles or those nouveau riche that you see as of late from the mines. They might have money or contacts, but they don't tend to have great bodies. Considering everything you have gone through and will continue to go through, I'd say you have an edge there."
"I hope you are right, 'coz I have no idea how much physical prowess will carry me through years of lackluster education or my handicap."
"Isn't that handicap the only reason why you have been summoned in the first place?"
"You are quite the bright person, aren't you?"
"Me? Nah," the villager slapped the air. "You just need to be clear where you come from. That agate," he pointed at her collar, "is a handicap, yes, but never in a thousand years a child from a village like Malachite would have been summoned to Knight's Ascent without it. Good and bad are just matters of application, and you've applied your agate in the best way possible."
"…I'll have that in mind."
Hours and days blurred together as they continued to walk. Her feet stopped hurting at some point, and Agatha took that as a bad signal, but she was too scared to remove her boots and look at what was brewing down there. Only when the caravan stopped near a stream to rest and wash themselves was she able to muster enough courage to do so.
All the women in the caravan had bunched up together, far away from the savages of the men, alongside the youngest of children who couldn't be left alone.
"Sacred be the earth!" Agatha heard a matronly woman curse as she removed her boots.
Truth be told, she also wanted to curse the moment she saw the disgusting and pulsating mess that were her feet. Though more than cursing, she wanted to puke first. Now she understood why Cristobal had said not feeling the pain was positive.
"Girls, c'mere!" The woman shouted and waved her hands around toward Agatha. Then she took out a sickly green poultice.
"I-I can't pay for it," Agatha stuttered through her nausea.
"Nonsense!" She was clearly a woman who accepted no for an answer as she immediately started cleaning the girl's feet. "I can't have a girl as cute as you walking with such war-torn feet! The sun would incinerate my soul if I did that!"
For a moment, Agatha thought to ask about the whole 'soul-incinerating' business, but quickly dismissed it as an idiom that she hadn't heard before. Crocheta was big, and she was far from home, after all.
The girl bit her underlip as the matronly woman cleaned her feet. Not only were they ridden with blisters, but also wounds, so it didn't matter if they were soft caresses or not.
"How can this even happen?" The woman murmured to herself.
The blue-eyed girl squinted at that question as she originally failed to understand it, but then realized that this woman wasn't only riding a cart all day long, but she had also joined the caravan somewhat recently.
"I've kinda been walking for two weeks straight with only rests for sleep," Agatha revealed with a wry chuckle to hide her pain.
"Oh, you sweet thing!" The woman made a feint to cover her gaping mouth with her hands before she realized they weren't exactly clean at the moment and just continued washing the feet. "And why are you doing that? Why would such a young and beautiful girl make such a grueling journey on her lonesome?"
"Well, I'm not exactly alone…" Agatha didn't bother denying the young and beautiful claims for they were objective, impervious truth. "I've been traveling all this way with a man from my village, but he will finally leave the caravan the next city we reach so… I guess I'm kinda on my lonesome, yes." She chuckled dryly this time.
"Oh, the more you speak, the greater my headache becomes," the woman placed her forearm against her forehead in mild distress. "Having said so," she focused her gaze on Agatha and her eyes sparkled in need, "you still haven't told me why you are making your journey?"
"Oh well… it's nothing you don't suspect already…"
Her age alone was clue enough, but still, Agatha didn't want to tell her the actual reason for her journey. Her mother had thoroughly lectured on their way to Cors about not speaking of her destination.
"Never show your special summons to anyone, Agatha," Esmeralda had spoken with one of the harshest tones the teenager had ever heard. "You are just a girl and they are really valuable, so if someone heard you had such a thing in your possession, they would do anything to get that letter, even if it would be easily disproven as no one would have an agate of the quality of your little sapphire. Human greed is that shallow and stupid."
That 'anything' had really scared Agatha and she was still thinking about it even two weeks later. Her mind was already imaginative enough to picture the worst, and yet she still feared that imagination wasn't enough.
"Ah, yes. You are in that age, right?" The matronly woman interjected after Agatha had left the subject open. "It must have been a good academy if you are making such a long journey."
"I don't know if to say it's a good academy just yet, but my statal examination scores went well," decent at best, "and it was stupid to let this chance pass by even if the journey is proving to be such…"
"Fucking shellshit?" The woman grinned.
"Sactly," the girl chuckled, though now with renewed vitality.
It had struck Agatha how coarse and foulmouthed she had been, but that made it more endearing. As the girl laughed, the matronly woman finally started applying the poultice on the feet as now they were clean. Or as clean as they could get with only water.
"Ah!" Agatha yelped as the woman's thick hands rubbed her small feet.
"Did I hurt you?" She exclaimed with worry.
"Not at all!" Agatha vigorously swayed her hands in negation. "It's only that the poultice was colder than I expected. Not even the stream's water felt that cold."
"Ah, that's great then. If it feels cold, it means that it's working."
The woman kept applying the poultice until Agatha's feet became a slimy mess, more coating than flesh. In the meantime, they kept talking and a handful of other women and their daughters joined the conversation.
"That will be it," the matronly woman said, clasping her hands together once she finished. "Now, keep your tootsies out there until the caravan begins moving. They'll need as much fresh air as they can get."
"Thank you so much," Agatha awkwardly bowed as she had her legs extended in the air. "I don't know how I can repay you for this."
"Repay me?" She let out a mighty chuckle as she cleaned her hands on the stream. "Girl, you should be hounding the caravan for letting your precious feet get skewered like a hog, not repaying anyone."
"It's not like I can afford riding a cart. And they are already doing a lot for me by letting me sleep on them at night, haha…" the girl nervously laughed as she scratched her chin.
"Doing a lot? That ain't compassion. That's shoving a stick up their arses and calling themselves saints. Lemme tell you a thing, girl. For the duration my husband and I remain in the caravan, I'll let you ride it."
"Really?" Agatha's eyes shone as brightly as the agate that hung on her neck.
"Of course!" After giving the girl a hearty smile, the woman offered a hand. "Nerea."
"Agatha," and the girl took it.
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The3rd
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