Chapter 8: Beyond the Fence.

As Emil stepped out of Mr. Herbert's quiet room filled with tension, the soft hum of the library whispers came back. He turned the corner into the central lounge when something above caught his attention. At the far wall above the archway, a grand clock revealed itself, ticking. The sound lingered in his periphery all morning, like a subtle beat in his mind. Now, it stood tall before him.

Tall, old, finely carved, its frame was wood like oak, but different. Crowned with symbolic ornaments Emil has yet to decipher. Its clockface was furnished with classic roman numerals, the black iron hands moving slowly with precision. The hour hand hovered past X, while the other stood at VI.

10:30.

Emil's breath raised slightly. There was something deep, that felt eerie about the clock. It was so familiar. Earthly. It was as if the flow of time itself wasn't bound to any world, but instead a language that even the Gods didn't dare to alter, or perhaps they didn't understand.

He waved the thought away, and continued his walking. Lumier was still seated into the velvet cushion, but her posture had changed, less immersed. She noticed Emil and smiled a bit, stretching her arm above her head, while letting out a soft groan.

"I'm halfway through it," she said, gently closing the book of the Love Goddess. "Didn't think I'd enjoy it this much." She tapped the golden-trimmed spine. "It's got more tragedy than I thought…"

Emil nodded with a ghost of a smile. "We can come back tomorrow," he offered, careful not to let the thoughts of the forbidden method or Mr. Herbert's words bleed into his voice.

She nodded excitedly and stood up from her seat, tucking in the book beneath her arm. "Yeah. That sounds good! Let's head back to the square! Let's see what the festival gives us!"

"Festival?" Emil asked. Confused.

"Don't act like you forgot," Lumier tilted her head. "You've been so excited about it since the month of Athereon came." She grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the exit.

They stepped out of the library halls, and the change struck Emil almost immediately.

The streets became livelier. The square now hosts more people than what it had earlier. The stalls bloomed with colors, and noise. Crowds thickened, voices overlapped the chattering and laughter. Trinkets and scrolls hung outside the stalls. Ribbons twisted in the air like enchanted serpents. The scent of roasted nuts, oiled leather, and strange spices clung to the air.

Jugglers balanced glass orbs, clowns giving children balloons, vendors calling out customers to come in their stalls to try their goods.

Rising above it all—a massive banner suspended across the square, gently swaying in the summer breeze:

"FESTIVAL OF KNOWLEDGE — MONTH OF ATHERON"

Painted in flowing ink with magical accents that shimmered faintly in the sunlight.

Emil slowed his walking pace. His eyes scanned through the Old Square. Emil took notes of the layout of the whole place, the hidden alleys, the vendors, the robed man that held a long staff with a gem on its tips.

A festival…huh? Celebration of Knowledge.

The sun tipped its way toward the peak of the sky. Emil and Lumier finally left the bustling town square behind. They wandered through the streets, passing herbal vendors with various leaves twined with each other, charms dealers selling "God-touched" talismans, and stalls with smoking meats inside a giant hot pot that smelled very much like barbeque in Emil's nose.

By the time they got home, the sun's heat was at its peak. Just past mid-day. 

The creak of the wooden door welcomed them, followed by the soft aroma of root-braised meat and toasted greens. The warmth of the meal filled the air, but Zasha was nowhere to be found.

"She's tending the fields again," Lumier said, as she sat down by the table. "Said she'd be late."

Emil simply nodded. They sat together and ate. After the meal, as the plates were cleared and Lumier disappeared upstairs with her book in hand. 

Demio stood and motioned toward the door. "Outside," he said, his voice neither a command nor a request

The air outside was crisper than before. The sound of birds wove with the distant rustle of field grass. A faint wind tugged at the hems of their tunics.

Then, from behind a bench near the tool shed, Demio lifted something wrapped in cloth and bound with a simple leather cord.

Though carved smooth, its shape bore an undeniable weight and intention. Its edge was rounded, but the tip carried a point. The grip was wrapped with a rough hide for better handling.

It was nearly a third the size of Lugira's body. About 28 inches.

Demio handed it to Emil without a word.

The moment Emil took it in his hands, a pulse ran through his fingers.

Demio finally spoke, arms crossed, gaze unreadable.

"You'll need to build your strength again if you're serious about the patrol guard. Can't protect anyone with hollow arms."

Emil nodded slowly, hiding the way the weight stirred ghosts in his shoulders. This wasn't a rifle. This was something older. More personal.

Wood, not steel.

But even wood could kill, if wielded by someone who had tasted war.

And here, in this world of gods and scrolls, Emil knew: violence still spoke the same tongue.

The dull thud of striking wood rang through the air.

Under the big and old elm tree near Lugira's home, Demio stood firm, his own wooden sword raised. Emil held his stance across Demio, slightly mimicking his posture. Emil's breathe was shallow, and his arms trembled faintly. 

"Again." Demio said.

Their wooden swords collided.

At first, Emil's movements and stance was hesitant and nervous. Every part of his body felt stiff, yet limp. But Demio's wide attack brought out Emil's military instinct. His stance began solidifying, his foot lay flat on the dirt. Emil raised his sword with intent. He gripped the sword handle tightly. Then, he ran towards Demio, not just using his speed, but also his swift. He swung his sword. It wasn't strong but it was precise. Demio easily parried it. Emil attacked once again. Then another. All of his attacks were swift and aiming for the weak points, neck, liver, legs, and temple.

Demio raised his brows mid-parry. "Heh." He smirked and shifted his sword to attack. With one blow Emil's stance faltered. "Where did you learn how to strike?" Demio asked.

"Hm..?" Emil's voice lowered. "I.. I sometimes see other guards, how they practice."

"Hmm…" Demio's voice wasn't amused. "It's not always you see guard practice. There must be some other way you've learned." His voice grew more stern. 

"Well, I really wanted to practice." 

"Very well." Demio's voice is still full of suspicions. "Let's wrap it up for today. Instead, I want you to go beyond the fence. Run 2 kilometers east. You need to build that stamina from now on." He said pointing towards the vast plains outside the big fence. 

"Understood."

Demio grunted, folding his arms. "You'll know the distance when the wind starts smelling like a riverbed. Don't take too long."

Emil nodded again, already turning toward the field beyond the giant wooden fence. In Emil's mind this wasn't just a chance to train but to explore the massive world around him.

Emil began taking steps as his house grew smaller from the horizon. His steps followed a rhythm, a flow in which Emil used back in the military. One-two. One-two.

About 200 meters from his home, the fence stopped him. It was so massive it must've been as tall as a 3-storey building. A guard from the post came down to him. "What are you doing here boy?" He said, laughing back at the other patrol guards.

"Well, I'm just gonna collect some herbs, and exercise a bit." Emil said, softly, with a little bit of heavy breathing in between.

"Hmm…," He looked at the boy in front of him, inspecting. "Wait.. Aren't you Demios' son?" He exclaimed. "Hey, look who's here." The other patrol guard peeked below from their post. "It's Demios' son. Said he'll exercise!"

"You're finally walking down the path your father took, ay." The one from the post said, his voice was lively but it's stern and deep.

"Anyways, good luck, don't wander off til night." The one who came down said, "There were lots of goblins and dire wolves these days. It's like something's luring them here." He said, his low voice, patting Emil's shoulder. "I'm Conrad, nice meeting you boy." 

He faced the fence, pulling a small door to reveal an opening. "Wait sir, what do these look like: Fenroot, Azure Moss, and Drall Bark?" Emil politely asked. 

"Hmm… those should be easy to see. Fenroot are often seen near those big fig trees, it looks like a thin root," Conrad said, pointing his finger towards the giant fig trees. "Then Azure Moss, well you have to be careful getting those, it's near the wet lands, at the end of that trail, there should be some.." He glanced at the trail. The trail was barely recognizable. The grass was tall and thick. "As for Drall Bark… those things, I'm not sure. Try asking the merchants in the square plaza when you get back." He nodded slightly. "Why do you need these for? Making potions?"

"Something like that.." Emil said, walking over the fence. He looked back at the man, giving a small salute.