Amukelo: The Burdened Path

The next morning, the group gathered outside the Rusted Lantern inn, dressed in more casual clothing. Bral wore a simple beige tunic and dark trousers, looking far less like a warrior and more like any other man in the town. Idin had on a dark blue long-sleeved shirt with a leather vest over it, paired with sturdy boots. Bao wore a fitted, sleeveless dark green top with brown trousers, a knife still strapped to her belt, though she had left her bow behind. Pao, without her flowing mage robes, now wore a light blue dress with a simple leather belt around her waist, her long black hair tied back loosely, making her look more like a noblewoman than a magic caster.

Amukelo, however, still had on his cloak—the only real piece of clothing he owned aside from his borrowed pants. It was practical, but compared to them, he definitely stood out, looking more like a stray wanderer than part of the group. The others had left behind their weapons and armor, but Amukelo had also done the same leaving his sword it the inn's room.

Bral crossed his arms, smirking as he looked at Amukelo. "Alright, rookie, I've been thinking. Since you saved all our lives back there," he nodded toward Pao specifically, "and since we've already decided you're one of us, I think you deserve something."

Amukelo blinked, caught off guard. "Huh? What do you mean?"

Bral grinned. "You have a blade that's a masterpiece, maybe even a legendary blade if the old stories are true, but you have no armor. Not at all. Nothing that protects you from blows." He leaned in slightly, his expression becoming more serious. "And because of that you almost died when that landwyrm hit you."

Amukelo shifted uncomfortably at the reminder, his fingers twitching slightly at the memory of the impact. He said nothing, but Bral wasn't finished.

"So, we're gonna fix that. We'll buy you something nice, both for daily wear and for combat."

Amukelo stared, feeling an unexpected warmth in his chest. "Tha… thanks, that's… a lot."

But before he could get too sentimental, Bral suddenly clapped his hands together. "But…" he glanced at the group, "I don't have enough money for this alone. We'll have to split the cost."

Idin groaned slightly, and Bao sighed dramatically, clearly not thrilled at the idea of spending more money. "Oh, great," Bao muttered, "so we're paying for his entire wardrobe now?"

Bral scoffed. "Oh, come on, he saved you just as much as he saved me. Don't be like that."

Pao smiled brightly. "I don't mind at all."

Bao and Idin exchanged glances before rolling their eyes in unison and giving in. "Yeah, yeah, we know. Let's just get it over with."

Bral grinned victoriously. "See? You two should take an example from her." He gestured to Pao, who just giggled in response.

"Alright," Bral continued, "first things first, let's buy you some actual clothes. That cloak makes you look like a thief."

Amukelo gave him a flat look but didn't argue. It wasn't like he had any other clothes.

The group moved through Llyn's streets, weaving through the busy morning crowds. Merchants were already set up, shouting about their wares. A man selling fresh bread waved a loaf in the air, calling for customers, while a blacksmith displayed newly forged blades on a wooden stand, their edges glinting under the morning sun. The air carried a mixture of baked goods, burning coal, and the occasional less pleasant scent from a livestock cart passing by.

Amukelo walked slightly behind them, still taking in the overwhelming sights. He could hear street performers playing stringed instruments near the town square, children darting through alleyways laughing, and the constant chatter of townsfolk. This place was so full of life, so different from the quiet of the wilderness he had grown used to.

Though none of them said anything, Bral and the others were watching him out of the corners of their eyes, clearly amused by his amazement.

After a short walk, they finally reached a small but well-kept shop with a wooden sign reading "Tailor's Craft." The windows displayed neatly folded tunics, coats, and durable travel wear, with a few mannequins dressed in more expensive garments.

Bral pushed open the door, and a small bell rang overhead. The shop smelled of fresh linen and leather, with bolts of fabric stacked neatly along the walls. A middle-aged man with a measuring tape draped around his neck looked up from where he was folding a vest.

"Ah, welcome! Looking for something specific?"

Bral motioned toward Amukelo. "Yeah, we need to get this one some proper clothes."

The tailor's brows lifted slightly as he looked at Amukelo's tattered cloak, clearly judging his entire existence. "Oh, I see. Well, you've come to the right place."

Amukelo felt a little out of place, standing there while everyone else picked out clothes for him. He never had the luxury of choosing what he wore, and now, suddenly, people were handing him tunics and coats, discussing what would suit him best.

Bao held up a dark gray shirt against him and frowned. "Hmm. No, you need something darker. Otherwise, you'll stand out too much."

Idin grabbed a thick leather belt from the side and tossed it at Bral. "He should get this too, otherwise his pants will fall off."

Pao, on the other hand, seemed more invested in making sure the fabric was comfortable rather than practical. She ran her fingers over a navy-blue tunic and nodded approvingly. "This one's soft. I think this would suit him."

Amukelo just stood there as they practically built his wardrobe for him.

Bral smirked and nudged his shoulder. "You good there, rookie? You look a little overwhelmed."

Amukelo blinked and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "I just… I never really thought about what to wear before."

Bao snorted. "Yeah, we can tell."

Eventually, they settled on a set of dark, durable travel clothes—a black tunic, a sturdy leather vest, a fitted pair of dark trousers, and boots that were far more comfortable than the ones he had been wearing. A short cloak, smaller than the one he had before but still practical, was added to the mix.

The tailor packed everything neatly and took the money, leaving Amukelo staring at the bundle in his hands.

Bral grinned. "Go on, try them on. Let's see if we wasted our money."

Amukelo nodded and disappeared behind the small curtain of the fitting area. When he finally stepped out, the others gave him an appraising look.

Bral smirked. "Well, at least you don't look like a stray anymore."

Pao smiled warmly. "It suits you."

Idin nodded approvingly, and even Bao gave a small nod. "Yeah, way better."

Amukelo felt a little strange standing there, but he couldn't deny that the clothes fit well. He adjusted the belt, feeling the sturdy leather against his waist, the warmth of the cloak around his shoulders. It was a strange thing—to be wearing something that wasn't falling apart and something that really suited him.

Once they chose the clothes for Amukelo, Bral said to Amukelo, "So, now that you have proper clothes for the daily use, let's actually get you something that will protect you from blows." And with that, they stepped out of the shop, and headed towards an armory.

The armory was a small but well-stocked shop, with weapons and armor neatly displayed along the walls and on wooden racks. The scent of oiled leather and polished steel filled the air, and the faint clanging of metal came from a back room, where the blacksmith was likely working on new pieces. The lighting inside was dim, save for a few lanterns flickering against the stone walls, casting long shadows across the armor sets and weapons.

As the group stepped inside, the shopkeeper—a bald, stocky man with a thick mustache and an apron stained with soot— looked up from a counter where he had been inspecting a freshly crafted dagger. His sharp eyes scanned them quickly before he spread his arms in welcome.

"Ah, customers! Welcome, welcome. What can I do for you today?"

Bral stepped forward, nodding at Amukelo. "We're here to get some armor for this young one."

The shopkeeper studied Amukelo, his eyes flicking up and down as he took in the boy's lean but muscular frame, his new clothes, and the way he stood—like someone used to movement rather than bulk. He hummed thoughtfully, then stroked his mustache. "Hmm… I see. He's not too tall, but I have a few armors that might fit him. What are you looking for, young man? A full heavy armor? Or something more mobile?"

Amukelo hesitated, glancing at Bral as if looking for guidance. "I… don't know. Something that won't limit my movements too much."

The shopkeeper nodded approvingly. "Ah, you're one of those. Light but protected. That narrows it down." He motioned for them to follow him deeper into the shop, where several armor sets stood on mannequins or hung neatly on reinforced stands.

He stopped in front of two sets. "I have two armors that might suit you." He gestured to the first one—a well-crafted leather and reinforced chain hybrid, with light steel plating over the chest and shoulders. "This one is a very fine piece. It's light but offers great protection, though it might be a bit big for you."

Then, he turned and motioned to another simpler set—sturdy, well-made, but with no extra plating, just durable leather reinforced with padding underneath. "And this one is more standard. Reliable, nothing fancy, but it'll do the job."

He stepped aside and placed his hands on his hips. "So, which one do you want? Or would you like to try them first?"

Amukelo studied both for a moment, then pointed at the first one. "I'll try this one first."

The shopkeeper nodded, rolling up his sleeves as he carefully removed the armor from its stand, placing it on a nearby wooden table. "Alright, let's get this on you, then."

As Amukelo started fitting into the armor with the shopkeeper's help, Bral wandered off to look around the shop. The armory had more than just armor—it also had a variety of weapons displayed on wooden racks and hanging from metal hooks. Swords of different lengths and styles, bows and quivers of arrows, shields stacked in a corner, and even a few staffs that looked out of place among the more martial gear.

Bral raised an eyebrow at one of them and muttered, "A staff in an armory?" before shaking his head. He kept walking, eyes scanning the equipment, when something caught his attention.

On a low wooden shelf, among several pieces of forearm protection, he spotted a familiar-looking set of bracers—almost identical to his own, but newer. His own had been worn down over time, softened by use and heat exposure, and after the landwyrm's fire attack, it had lost its rigidity.

Curious, he picked them up and slipped them onto his forearms, adjusting the fit. The leather was firm, not yet broken in, but comfortable. He flexed his wrists, feeling the way they moved with him.

Idin, who had been eyeing some weapons nearby, turned to see Bral testing the bracers. He sighed and walked over. "Are you seriously thinking about buying those?"

Bral grinned slightly. "Yeah. After that landwyrm's fire, I feel like I need a new pair. My old ones are starting to feel too flexible."

Idin crossed his arms. "Come on, you don't need to waste your money like this. We already spent a lot on Amukelo's armor. You should be a little smarter with it."

Bral turned his arm, looking at the way the new bracers fit. "You're only saying that because yours are reinforced with steel. Mine are full leather. They took a beating back there."

Idin gave him a flat look. "Yeah, but you still don't have the money for that, do you?"

Bral sighed, rubbing his forehead. "You're right. As much as I want them, there are better things to spend my money on right now."

He unfastened the bracers and set them back on the shelf, giving them one last glance before shaking his head and stepping away. Idin patted his shoulder as if to say, 'Good choice,' before turning back to check on Amukelo, who was still getting fitted into his armor.

The shopkeeper was securing the last few straps, stepping back with a critical eye to inspect how the armor sat on Amukelo's frame. The others turned to see how he looked, waiting for his reaction.