Chapter 18 - Leaving

The next day, they packed the little they had. Putt felt the familiar knot of worry tighten in his stomach. He craved stability, something he had tasted briefly over the past few days—the longest period of calm since his parents had died. But now, they were about to leave again.
He had never felt more like a burden. He had tried to prove himself over the last days, taking care of his grandmother the best way he could. But still, she could see no talent or purpose in his life.
As they reached one of the city's main roads, someone behind them called out for Avia. Putt turned and saw a tall figure approaching. He pulled Avia's sleeve urgently.
"It's him!" Putt exclaimed, not remembering the man's name. Avia frowned and turned to look.
"Bahadur?" 
Bahadur caught up with them, his presence as imposing and comforting as ever.
"You're leaving," he stated.
"Yes. Thank you for your care for us, but now it's time for us to move on," Avia replied.
Bahadur nodded, not seeming surprised. Putt and Bahadur exchanged a look. Putt knew Bahadur had a newborn daughter. How he wished this tall, strong man could be his father as well. Bahadur radiated such comfort and safety, a stark contrast to the uncertainty that plagued Putt's life.
"What are your plans? If I may ask," Bahadur inquired, his eyes flicking to Putt.
Putt sensed the underlying question: What will happen to the boy? He looked down at his feet. There was no plan.
"I'm a nomad. I take the day as it comes," Avia said.
"Go in peace, Avia."
"Live your life well, Bahadur."
The adults exchanged goodbyes, and Avia continued walking. Putt lingered, looking back at Bahadur. There was something about the man he couldn’t quite understand. Why did he care? Avia and Bahadur had fought in the arena, trying to kill each other. Shouldn’t Bahadur hate Avia?
Putt missed the life he had had with his parents. It wasn’t just a longing for his dead mother and father; it was a longing for a life that made sense, a life he could grasp. People were so complicated outside his home village.
They walked along the main street. Putt breathed in the dust, the heat, the smell of sweat and feces. He knew he wouldn’t miss this. The delicious smell from the potion maker's first bottle had reminded him of the world outside Posita. He looked ahead and saw where the city ended, abruptly. He had been rushing ahead, and Avia had to slow him down. Finally, the town came to an end, but the road remained wide and populated, the air thick with dust.
How long before they were alone on a path again? He had spent so much time among strangers. Now he longed for solitude. It was something he seemed to share with his grandmother. She didn’t stop to talk to people unless she had to. She didn’t engage in small talk, unlike Sinik and Pho, who chatted incessantly at night. They filled the air with talk, unable to sit in silence.
He and his granny could sit in silence and still enjoy each other’s company. If he had had to talk like Sinik and Pho every night, he probably would have left Avia for any other option if he could. As it was, his granny was his perfect company.



Osapi watched from a distance as Avia and Putt prepared to leave Posita. He had seen both of Avia's fights and felt a deep admiration for her skills and tenacity. He had also observed Bahadur's gesture of care and respect, feeling a pang of guilt that he couldn't join in the effort to help her. If only he had the means, he would have gladly paid the fees alongside Bahadur.
As they made their way through the bustling streets, Osapi felt a mixture of emotions. He was embarrassed about their encounter in the woods, where he had been outwitted and shown mercy by a warrior far superior to himself. Avia had treated him with a mix of scorn and pity, and he couldn't shake the feeling of inadequacy that lingered from their confrontation. It had been a humbling experience, one that made him question his own path.
He followed them at a safe distance, not wanting to intrude but needing to see them off. He noticed the heavy load Avia carried, not just physically but emotionally as well. Her grandson, Putt, looked up to her with a mix of admiration and concern. Osapi envied the boy's connection with Avia, wishing he could have something similar.
When Bahadur joined them briefly, Osapi felt another wave of regret. Bahadur had done what he could, extending a hand of friendship and support. Osapi, on the other hand, had remained in the shadows, unable to contribute in any meaningful way. He watched as they exchanged words, Bahadur's presence a comforting one for both Avia and Putt.
As Avia and Putt continued on their way, Osapi's mind raced. He wanted to approach Avia, to express his gratitude for the lessons learned and to apologize for his earlier actions. But he knew it was improper to ask to become her apprentice now. Avia already had Putt, and he had no place in their dynamic. Besides, his own failures loomed large in his mind, and he couldn't imagine imposing himself on them.
The streets of Posita seemed to close in around him as he stood there, watching them disappear into the distance. He felt a deep sense of loss, not just for the opportunity to learn from Avia but for the path his life had taken. He was an orphan too, wandering through life with no clear direction or mentor to guide him.
In the end, all he could do was stand there, feeling the weight of his own inadequacies. He knew he needed to find his own way, to carve out a path that was uniquely his. Avia's departure was a stark reminder that he couldn't rely on others to define his journey. He had to find his own strength, his own purpose.
As the sun began to set over Posita, Osapi turned away from the fading figures of Avia and Putt. He resolved to become better, to prove to himself that he was more than the sum of his past mistakes. It was a daunting task, but he knew it was one he had to undertake alone. With a heavy heart but a determined spirit, he walked back into the city, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.



Jadoog spotted them resting on some boulders along the path. They sat opposite each other, taking a break from their climb. Down in the valley, the road south had narrowed to a cart's width before he left it behind. Once they chose the unlikely path up the hill east, following them had been easy. Finding someone in a crowded place was much harder. He stopped beside them on the path.
"I wish you long and happy lives," he greeted, smiling. The old woman, Avia, looked displeased immediately.
"The same to you, stranger," she replied, making it clear they were not acquainted.
"My name's Jadoog," he said gently. "May I sit down with you?" The child, Putt, moved aside, allowing him to sit on the same boulder.
"Much obliged." He removed his backpack and took a seat. Avia didn’t approve, but she didn’t protest either.
Jadoog unpacked some freshly baked bread, the aroma still rich and inviting. He cut it up and offered a piece to Avia. She took it, though he sensed her suspicion. The boy, however, was easier to reach and accepted a slice gingerly.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." Jadoog took a bite of the bread, considering how to start the conversation.
"I heard you're on your way to the wizard's school," he began. Avia tensed up before he even finished. "I know you don't know me, but you know Bahadur. He was the one who told me."
"I don't remember telling him such a thing," Avia replied sharply.
"I did," Putt confessed. "I told him." She growled in frustration.
"What? What's the harm in telling?" the boy defended himself.
"No harm at all," Jadoog sided with him. "If you hadn't, I wouldn't be here."
"Yes. And?" Avia snapped back, her patience clearly wearing thin.
"I'm a wizard. If Putt here shows the right talent, I'll take him on as my apprentice. If it pleases you, of course."
"You can ask your gods for something more realistic next time," Avia hissed. "Do you think I'll leave my grandson to any stranger claiming he can care for him?"
"Of course not," Jadoog replied, smiling. "I'll follow along with you, and when we've evaluated each other, we can decide how to arrange it."
He watched Avia and dialed down his smile, knowing a big smile caused her distrust.
"I promise I'll be quiet and respect your need for solitude. Wizards tend to need it, too."
This made her relax enough not to appear hostile. Jadoog couldn’t have asked for a better sign.
"Can't stop you from walking along the path now, can I? I'm Avia." They shook hands. "And this young man is Putt, but apparently you knew that already."
"Bahadur told me your name too. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"We'll see about that. You'll likely change your mind. How do you know Bahadur?"
"He's my younger brother. I came to town when I got the message he was about to become a father. And me an uncle. Babies are cute, aren't they?"
"Shall we?" She rose and put on her pack. Putt followed her example, and so did Jadoog. When Avia walked away along the path, Putt lingered.
"Go ahead, young man."
Putt followed Avia's lead but stayed close to Jadoog, clearly wanting to say something.
"What is it?" Jadoog asked.
"You know, I won't become a wizard," Putt said, worry evident in his voice.
"So? Why is that?"
"I was tested, and I failed." There was something defeated in the boy's voice. Jadoog was quite sure there was no one in the city qualified to tell if Putt had potential or not, except for him.
"Tested? What kind of test?"
"I had to smell two bottles."
Jadoog sighed. That test was as stupid and unreliable as predicting rain based on a deer crossing the road.
"I can't tell if you'll become a wizard or not yet, son, but I do know that the smelling test doesn't tell you anything except that you have a functional nose."
"Really?" There was a hopeful spark in the child's voice.
"Really."