Chapter 12: Onwards to the Capital
The carriage rocked steadily as it rolled down the uneven dirt path, the wheels creaking softly with each turn. Inigo sat with one arm braced against the side wall, the other resting atop his knee. Outside, the forest blurred past—green and gold, patches of light filtering through the canopy above.
It had only been an hour since they departed Valebrook, and he was already feeling it.
"This is... rougher than I thought," Inigo muttered.
He leaned back against the padded wall again. It wasn't exactly painful, but the constant vibration beneath the wheels, the occasional jolt from potholes, and the general lack of suspension made it a far cry from anything he was used to.
Back home, he'd ridden buses with air-conditioning, caught rides in taxis with smooth suspension and Spotify playlists. Even the worst traffic in Manila came with honking horns and street food at every stoplight.
Here? The soundtrack was creaking wood, rustling trees, and oxen snorting with effort.
He looked around the interior again. No cup holders. No phone charger. And definitely no Wi-Fi.
Yet... it wasn't all bad.
There was something strangely peaceful about watching the world go by without a screen in front of him. Birds called from the trees, and the sky was as blue as a digital wallpaper—but real. Unfiltered.
No billboards. No exhaust fumes. Just the wilderness, raw and sprawling.
Still, his legs were beginning to itch for movement.