A Day on the Town

Val stepped out into the streets of Birchwood, the little town that sat at the halfway point between The Republic and the Western Settlements, was always abuzz with activity. The unpaved roads were littered with horses hitched to posts, shopkeepers calling out their wares, and bartenders tossing out patrons who couldn't hold their liquor.

Val always enjoyed walking through town. Something about the crowds of people made her feel less alone.

Val stopped in front of a weathered bulletin board near the sheriff's station. Her eyes seemed to fall towards two distinctive-looking men with matching mustaches and suits.

"Bond Brothers: Wanted for Murder, Robbery, Illegal modification of Core technology. Reward: 10,000 Dead or Alive."

Val couldn't quite place it, but she felt she had seen their faces somewhere before. With a shrug, she banished the thought and continued her walk through town.

Val soon found her way to the border where Birchwood ended and the untamed wilderness of the west began. The world seemed to slow and go quiet, the symphony of desert sounds providing the background music. Val took a deep breath, enjoying the peace. It was in these brief moments she considered leaving it all behind. The dresses, the "family," the loneliness, she knew if she could find the strength to take one more step, she'd never look back, resigning herself to face whatever challenges that awaited her out there, alone. Her foot hovered over the imaginary line that divided the known and the unknown, both sides waiting for her to find the strength to make a decision. Ultimately, her foot fell back to where it had been before, and she turned on her heel, heading back towards Birchwood, where the safety and the familiar awaited her.

Nestled near the outskirts of town was a shooting range that had seen better days. It was nowhere near as busy as the ones in the town, but it had its charms, the one most important to Val was, of course, the privacy.

Val entered and was greeted by the familiar creak of the door and the smell of core powder. A bearded elderly man acknowledged her with a knowing tip of his hat.

With that, Val began her routine. She flipped the open sign to its closed side and placed the money Thomas gave her earlier on the counter. The money wasn't just for practice; it was also for privacy. Shooting cannons, after all, wasn't deemed 'ladylike.' Every dollar she spent ensured she had the establishment to herself. She had suspicions that if Thomas ever found out, he'd be far from pleased.

What started as her father trying to turn her into the son he always wanted quickly turned into a hobby that she fell in love with. The smell of the core powder, the weight of the cannon in her hand, the feeling of excitement she felt when she hit her target. This was one area in her life she was the complete master of.

Reaching behind the counter, Val's hands found the two intricately designed cannons. Weapons powered by the elemental stones native to the west called cores. These particular cannons had ice blue stones embedded into the handle, signifying the type of reaction they would produce. These were ice, her favorite element and the one she felt the most connected to.

With the weight of the cannons in her grip, she smiled and proceeded to the range in the back.