Free Web NovelChapter 60: Departure Is A Real Thing Apparently
The letter turned out to be boring.
Disappointing.
Deeply disappointing.
Seraphina had hoped for:
Ancient secrets.
Mysterious warnings.
Hidden treasure.
A dramatic challenge from Marianne.
Instead—
It was paperwork.
Professional.
Organized.
Responsible.
Everything Seraphina hated.
She stared at the page.
Then stared harder.
Then pushed it toward Kael.
"You read it."
"Why."
"It contains adult words."
Kael looked down.
Then immediately regretted it.
Because she was right.
The letter came from one of Marianne’s assistants.
A formal offer.
Future collaboration.
Access to suppliers.
Contacts in several cities.
Recommendations.
Partnership opportunities.
All extremely useful.
All incredibly boring to read.
Daren peeked over his shoulder.
"That looks expensive."
"It is."
"Good."
A reasonable response.
By the time breakfast ended, the decision had already been made.
Not verbally.
Practically.
People packed.
And when people packed—
It meant they were leaving.
The realization felt strange.
Not emotional.
Just strange.
Because the city had somehow become familiar.
The innkeeper watched them from behind the counter.
Arms crossed.
Expression unreadable.
"You leaving?"
"No."
The entire group looked at Seraphina.
She looked back.
"What?"
The innkeeper pointed at the bags.
"The bags."
"Oh."
A pause.
"Yes."
"Right."
The innkeeper nodded.
A man who had learned not to question her.
A wise man.
Atlas carried three bags.
Nobody knew how.
Tax carried absolutely nothing.
Despite contributing equally to the expenses.
A criminal business model.
The city was already awake when they stepped outside.
Workers.
Merchants.
Carriages.
Normal life.
The Fashion District stretched across part of the skyline.
Bright banners.
Workshops.
Movement. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com
For a second—
Seraphina stopped.
Not dramatically.
Just stopped.
Daren noticed first.
"What’s wrong?"
"Nothing."
A lie.
Not a big one.
A small one.
She looked toward the district.
Then toward the road.
Then back toward the district again.
Kael understood immediately.
Interesting.
Because six months ago she would’ve chased the next distraction.
Now she was leaving something she actually cared about.
That was new.
Not bigger.
Not better.
Just new.
Eventually she pointed toward the district.
"I’ll be back."
The statement wasn’t dramatic.
Which was exactly why it felt real.
Rowan glanced at her.
"You sound certain."
"I am."
Fair enough.
The road waited.
And this time—
Nobody delayed.
Not Rowan.
Not Daren.
Not Seraphina.
The city gates appeared ahead.
Guards checked wagons.
Travelers moved through constantly.
The usual flow of people entering and leaving.
One guard recognized Seraphina immediately.
A terrible development.
"Fashion Lady."
The title struck again.
Relentless.
Unstoppable.
Seraphina sighed.
A rare event.
"I am losing this battle."
"You really are."
Kael sounded far too amused.
The group passed through the gates.
And then—
The city was behind them.
No ceremony.
No dramatic farewell.
No speeches.
Just a road stretching forward.
The atmosphere changed almost immediately.
Cities had noise.
Roads had space.
Daren breathed deeply.
Then stretched.
Then nearly got hit by a cart.
A complete recovery.
Professional.
Rowan unfolded the map again.
Because of course he did.
The man treated maps like emotional support animals.
Kael walked beside him.
Actually discussing routes.
Actual investigation.
Actual progress.
A shocking development.
Meanwhile—
Seraphina had climbed onto Atlas.
The bear accepted this without complaint.
Like always.
Tax sat on her shoulder.
Like a tiny feathery crime advisor.
Normal.
Completely normal.
Several hours passed.
The landscape slowly changed.
Farmland became open fields.
Fields became hills.
The road narrowed.
Travelers became less frequent.
The world felt larger out here.
Less controlled.
More honest.
Around midday they stopped near a stream.
Lunch.
A sacred tradition.
Mostly because Atlas considered every meal sacred.
Daren sat on a rock.
Bread appeared.
Nobody knew from where.
Not even Daren sometimes.
Rowan was studying the compass again.
Still.
The needle had changed direction twice since morning.
Not north.
Not south.
Something else.
Something moving.
Or something drawing closer.
That bothered him.
A lot.
He stared at it long enough for Daren to notice.
Again.
"You’re doing it."
"What."
"The face."
"I don’t have a face."
"You absolutely do."
Seraphina immediately joined.
"He’s right."
A pause.
"You’ve got mystery face."
Rowan slowly lowered the compass.
"Mystery face."
"Yes."
Daren nodded.
"Different from merchant face."
"And different from getting annoyed face."
Kael looked up.
"Those are both real."
Rowan looked genuinely offended.
The others immediately took that as confirmation.
A terrible system.
An effective one.
Then—
Something unexpected happened.
Seraphina sat down beside him.
Quietly.
No speech.
No chaos.
No singing.
Which was honestly suspicious.
Rowan waited.
And waited.
Eventually—
"Do you think he’s alive?"
Simple question.
No jokes.
No deflection.
No audience.
Just a question.
The stream continued flowing.
Birds crossed the sky.
The world kept moving.
Rowan looked at the compass.
Then at the road ahead.
Then somewhere farther than both.
A place only he could see.
When he answered—
The words came slowly.
Carefully.
Like he’d thought about them too many times.
"I don’t know." freēwēbnovel.com
Not dramatic.
Not tragic.
Just honest.
And somehow—
That sounded much heavier.
For once—
Nobody rushed to fill the silence.
Nobody made a joke.
Nobody changed the subject.
They simply sat there.
Four people.
One bear.
One crow.
And a question nobody could answer yet.
The mystery wasn’t waiting anymore.
They were already walking toward it.
The moment ended naturally.
Not because someone interrupted.
Because life rarely allowed people to sit inside serious conversations forever.
Atlas sneezed.
A fish jumped out of the stream.
Tax attempted to steal the fish.
The fish escaped.
Tax looked personally betrayed.
Reality resumed.
Daren pointed.
"See?"
"What."
"That’s why I like traveling with you people."
Nobody knew how the fish connected to the conversation.
Not even Daren.
He continued anyway.
"Normal people don’t have crow-versus-fish rivalries."
"Normal people don’t carry bread everywhere."
Daren looked offended.
A grave mistake.
"That’s survival."
"You brought bread to a formal fashion competition."
"Preparation."
"You brought bread to a mystery meeting."
"Preparation."
"You brought bread to an argument."
"Emergency supplies."
Kael nodded.
Reasonable.
Daren immediately looked smug.
A terrible outcome.
Lunch eventually ended.
The road returned.
The sky remained clear.
For now.
The group moved at a relaxed pace.
Not because they lacked urgency.
Because rushing rarely helped.
Especially when nobody knew exactly where they were going.
The compass remained strange.
The map remained incomplete.
The clues remained frustrating.
A familiar pattern.
Several hours later, they reached a crossroads.
A real one.
Not a metaphorical story crossroads.
An actual road splitting in two directions.
One sign pointed east.
Another pointed north.
The paint had faded years ago.
Time had not been kind.
Seraphina studied the sign.
Then confidently declared:
"We should go left."
Rowan immediately asked:
"Why."
She pointed.
"The sign looks cooler."
An excellent reason.
A completely useless reason.
Kael checked the map.
Daren checked the compass.
Rowan checked both.
The answer turned out to be—
Left.
The correct route was left.
Silence.
The worst kind.
Because now Seraphina looked pleased.
Deeply pleased.
Dangerously pleased.
"I was right."
"By accident."
"History remembers results."
"History shouldn’t."
"It will."
Tax landed on the sign.
Then pecked Rowan’s shoulder.
Twice.
The merchant frowned.
"Why."
Tax immediately flew away.
A meaningful exchange.
The road narrowed after that.
Less traffic.
Fewer travelers.
More forest.
Not the same forest from before.
Different.
Older somehow.
The kind of place where sounds carried strangely.
The kind of place where people naturally lowered their voices.
Even Daren noticed.
"Okay."
A pause.
"I officially don’t like this road."
"Why."
"Feels suspicious."
An honest answer.
Kael actually agreed.
There weren’t any obvious dangers.
No monsters.
No tracks.
No warnings.
Yet something felt... empty.
Not abandoned.
Unused.
Like people preferred other routes.
The feeling stayed with them.
Mile after mile.
Until finally—
They found evidence.
Not monsters.
Not clues.
A wagon.
Broken.
Half-hidden among tall grass beside the road.
Everyone stopped.
The group became alert immediately.
Not dramatically.
Professionally.
A habit built from experience.
Rowan approached first.
Kael covered him automatically.
Daren moved to the opposite side.
Atlas stood.
The bear didn’t growl.
Which was interesting.
Very interesting.
The wagon wasn’t recent.
Weeks old.
Maybe longer.
Weather had already started reclaiming it.
One wheel shattered.
Several crates broken.
Nothing valuable remained.
At first glance.
Then Rowan crouched.
Examined something.
Frowned.
And crouched lower.
Kael noticed instantly.
"What."
Rowan pointed.
A symbol.
Small.
Carved into the wood.
Not decoration.
Intentional.
The same symbol from the compass.
The same bird.
The same mark.
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Not because they were shocked.
Because this was the first real thing they’d found themselves.
Rowan touched the carving carefully.
The merchant’s expression changed.
Not dramatically.
Subtly.
The difference between hearing a story and finding proof.
Daren saw it.
So did Kael.
So did Seraphina.
The mystery suddenly felt closer.
More real.
More dangerous.
And for the first time all day—
Seraphina didn’t make a joke.
She stared at the carving.
Then at the compass.
Then at the road ahead.
Thinking.
Actually thinking.
A dangerous activity.
Eventually she looked at Rowan.
And asked quietly:
"How many people knew your uncle used this route?"
A better question than anyone expected.
Rowan paused.
Then answered honestly.
"Not many."
That answer wasn’t comforting.
Not even slightly.
Because suddenly—
The broken wagon wasn’t just a broken wagon anymore.
And the road ahead felt a little less empty than before.
