During lunch, the central hall wasn't as crowded as it was at night during dinner. The warriors and sorcerers of the village spent their days hunting monsters and animals in the forest. This was mostly men's work, but there were also female warriors and even more sorceresses.
Most of the women and some of the older men worked in the fields. The farming system was quite different from what I was used to. There were no vast open fields with crops stretching to the horizon, like in the rural regions of the empire.
The roças, as they called the cultivated areas, were made in several clearings opened in the woods around the village.
In fact, the roças seemed like an extension of the forest itself. An untrained eye would probably struggle to tell where the woods ended and the crops began.
The arrogant scholars of the empire, faced with this farming system, would likely call it primitive—the result of the simple nature and inferior intellect of the dark-skinned people of the southern continents.
But here, they served three meals a day. Fruits and other treats were available all day for anyone who wanted them. The complete opposite of what I had often witnessed in the streets of Andaluz, the capital of the Duchy of Iberus, where I grew up.
Here, they lived at a completely different pace. Not that they didn't work hard, but life was so much lighter that even hard work felt enjoyable.
I suppose that's how it is everywhere when you work to sustain the people, not to enrich a boss.
After lunch, everyone found a spot to lean back. The long nap to aid digestion was sacred.
So were the baths. Two, sometimes three times a day, they bathed in the streams near the village.
This was a custom I quickly grew accustomed to. I didn't want to risk being known as the smelly one in the group.
I could easily see myself spending the rest of my life there. But I knew it wasn't possible. I had a mission to fulfill.
Up to that point, I still had no idea how or exactly what I was supposed to do. I didn't even know exactly where I was or where I could go from there.
That afternoon, Juraci called me to talk. As we had agreed the night before, we discussed what I expected for the future and how long I would stay in the village. But first, she wanted to know more about me—who I was, what had happened to bring me there.
I had been welcomed so warmly that I had no reason to hide anything. I told her everything. It even felt therapeutic to put into words everything I was feeling at that moment.
Juraci, in some way, had that effect on me. She was the village matriarch, and I truly felt embraced like a son by her.
"You're welcome to stay here for the rest of your life if you wish, but that's not your destiny."
She spoke with an almost prophetic certainty.
"But you'll have to stay here for at least another year. We're surrounded."
She began to explain:
"To the north, by the ocean, and to the south, by a mountain range. So there are only two ways out of here: by sailing or crossing the mountains."
"Sailing isn't a good option for you. We could try building a vessel, but honestly, my people don't have the knowledge to craft something that can withstand the dangers of the open sea."
"Some ships occasionally anchor on our shores, but they're usually pirates. Unless you're willing to become a slave, I don't think boarding a pirate ship is a good idea."
"Your best option is to cross the mountains to the south. However, that's a journey only possible during a few weeks of the year, at the height of summer, when some of the mountain passes thaw."
"Every year, the various villages of all the clans organize expeditions to the other side of the mountains, taking advantage of that narrow window of time."
"This year, that window closed a few months ago. So the next expedition won't be organized until a year from now."
"So I have at least a year to enjoy my stay here."
The fact that I was stuck there for another full year didn't bother me at all.
"Yes. In that time, I hope you'll live as one of us. In a few weeks, we'll hold the coming-of-age ritual, and I expect you to participate."
I didn't want to think too much about the ritual at that moment, at least not in front of Juraci, so I quickly changed the subject.
"What will I find on the other side of the mountains? In the empire, we don't have plenty of information about the northern regions of this continent. Our scholars call this area the 'savage lands.'"
Only after speaking did I realize the term might be offensive, but Juraci seemed more amused than insulted.
"What the scholars of the north mean as an insult, we take as praise. They're not wrong: we are savages. After all, our existence is in balance with the world around us. Our way of life is sustainable, not destructive. But I suppose you're not necessarily interested in an academic debate about our customs."
On the contrary, everything I had learned so far was utterly fascinating.
"If you cross the mountains through the pass closest to our village, you'll reach a place your people call 'Fool's Eldorado.'"
Of course, I had heard of that place before.
"Ah, right. So we're near Eldorado. That would actually be perfect for me as a starting point. The family that controls that region is abolitionist and banned the slave trade in their territories. I wouldn't risk being mistaken for a runaway slave."
"Yes, that's one of the reasons why we send most of our expeditions there."
Now that a plan was beginning to take shape, the path forward became clearer.
For a year, I would focus on my training and spend my time among the elves to overcome my grief