The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

Mikhailis and Cerys rode into the village, their horse trotting slowly on the narrow dirt path. They were greeted by the sight of quaint cottages with stone foundations and wooden frames, each with thatched roofs and small gardens full of colorful medicinal herbs and vegetables. The village was lively, even at this early hour—women with sun-kissed skin carried woven baskets filled with freshly harvested herbs, while children with dark brown eyes chased each other around, their laughter echoing through the cobbled village square.

"So, this is the village at the easternmost edge of Silvarion Thalor," Cerys said, glancing around. She was smiling, her eyes softened, her expression far from the stoic look she wore most of the time.

Mikhailis glanced around, taking in the details. The people here had skin that ranged from a deep bronze to a lighter sun-kissed tan, with hair tied back with practical cloth bands. Their clothes were simple—earthy fabrics with embroidered leaf patterns, hinting at their connection to the forest. He noticed the luminescent flowers in the gardens, glowing faintly despite the daylight, and the strange multi-legged chickens strutting about.

"I have to say," Mikhailis began, tilting his head as he watched one particularly fat chicken, "I've never seen a chicken with that many legs. It looks like a mistake of evolution."

Cerys laughed softly, nudging his shoulder.

"That's a Crockapite. They're common in these areas—quick on their feet and good for eggs and meat."

She's getting comfortable, Mikhailis thought, glancing at her. He enjoyed seeing her like this, the hard edges softening, the warmth breaking through.

<Analysis completed, Mikhailis. Population density indicates a village with roughly 150 inhabitants, predominantly engaged in agriculture. The presence of luminescent flora suggests nocturnal illumination capabilities. It would be advisable to approach the village head for supplies and information regarding local threats.>

Always efficient, aren't you, Rodion?

Cerys led them deeper into the village, pointing out landmarks—the stone well at the center, where people gathered to draw water, and the small shrine dedicated to a forest deity. They were soon greeted by a guard who noticed the knight badge pinned to Cerys's armor. He saluted them, his spear clinking against the metal of his armor. Your journey continues with My Virtual Library Empire

"You must be travelers," he said, his voice gruff but respectful.

"Follow me. The stables are this way."

The guard led them to the stable area, where a grizzled old stable master greeted them. He had leathery skin, tanned from years of work under the sun, and his face broke into a kind smile as he took their horse.

"Been a while since we've had visitors from outside," he said, patting the horse.

"She's a beauty. Take good care of 'er, will ya?"

"We'll come back for her soon," Cerys replied, giving the horse a gentle pat. The stable master nodded, leading the animal away, and Mikhailis turned to Cerys, giving her an amused smile.

"Now, what's next, my dear Lone Wolf? Shall we see about finding some provisions?"

She gave him a sideways glance, her lips quirking up slightly.

"Lead the way, Your Highness."

They entered the village market, a bustling place filled with stalls and shops—vendors selling freshly harvested vegetables, dried meats, handmade goods, and exotic fruits with vibrant colors and strange scales. Cerys eyed one such fruit, its skin covered in tiny, iridescent scales, glinting in the morning light.

"Ever tried one of these?" she asked, holding it up.

Mikhailis shook his head.

"No, but it looks like it's either delicious or will kill me instantly."

She laughed again, and they moved from stall to stall, taking their time to explore each one thoroughly. They gathered provisions—wild bread, dried meat, and a flask of the unique local drink the shopkeeper called "Thalorian Brew." Cerys marveled at the colorful variety of herbs available, and Mikhailis couldn't help but joke about some oddly shaped fruits, drawing more laughter from Cerys. They picked up some smoked fish wrapped in leaves, dried herbs for seasoning, and even a small bag of candied nuts that caught Cerys's eye. As they strolled, they admired the villagers' craftsmanship—woven baskets, leather pouches, and intricate carvings of forest animals. The vibrant atmosphere seemed to draw them in, making them forget, just for a moment, the challenges of their journey. They filled their arms with supplies until it came time to pay.

Mikhailis reached into his bag, rummaging around for a moment before he paused. His eyes widened slightly, and he glanced at Cerys.

"Uh, Cerys," he began, his tone sheepish.

"Do you have… any coin with you?"

She blinked at him, then mirrored his actions, patting down her bag before her face turned an embarrassed shade of red.

"I… might have forgotten mine," she said quietly.

We did left the rest of our things with Vyrelda and the others since we fell from the cliff, aren't we...?

Mikhailis let out a soft sigh, an awkward smile crossing his face.

"So, we're broke, is what you're saying."

They exchanged glances, both clearly feeling the embarrassment settle in as the elderly shopkeeper watched them, her gentle eyes filled with amusement. She let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head.

"Seems like you're in a bit of a pickle, aren't you, dearies?" she said, her voice warm.

"Uh, yes, you could say that," Mikhailis replied, scratching the back of his neck.

The shopkeeper smiled, nodding toward a cottage near the center of the village.

"Why don't you go see the village head? He might have some work for you. If you help him out, I'm sure he'd be willing to see that you get what you need. You folks seem to be mercenaries, after all,"

Cerys and Mikhailis exchanged a look. Mikhailis shrugged, giving her a small, lopsided smile.

"What do you think, Cerys? Ready to do a bit of mercenary work?"

She sighed but nodded, her lips curving into a reluctant smile.

"Let's do it. Not like we have many other options."

The elderly shopkeeper gave them directions to the village head's cottage, and they made their way over. The building was larger than the others, with ivy growing up the walls and forest creatures carved into the wooden door. Mikhailis knocked, and after a moment, the door creaked open to reveal an older man, his skin tanned and wrinkled, his white hair tied in a knot behind his head. He wore robes decorated with symbols of the forest, and his eyes were a piercing green, full of wisdom and curiosity.

"Good morning," the village head greeted them, his voice deep but kind.

"Morning," Cerys replied, giving a polite nod.

"We're travelers—just arrived from the west. We're looking for provisions but, uh, it seems we forgot our coin. We were told you might have some work for us?"

The village head's eyes glinted with amusement as he nodded, stepping aside to let them enter. The interior of the cottage was filled with the scent of herbs, bundles hanging from the ceiling, and a large fireplace crackling in the center of the room.

"I see," he said, motioning for them to sit at a small wooden table. He took his own seat across from them, studying them for a moment before he continued.

"We do have a small problem that perhaps you could assist us with."

Mikhailis leaned forward, curiosity piqued.

"What kind of problem?"

The village head folded his hands, his expression growing more serious.

"There have been creatures… Thorncrawlers, we call them—nasty little pests. They've been nesting near our farmlands, ruining our crops and making life quite difficult for the villagers."

"Thorncrawlers?" Cerys asked, her brow furrowing.

The village head nodded.

"They're small, aggressive creatures—a mix between porcupines and beetles, covered in thorny protrusions. They're dangerous in numbers, and they've been multiplying near the eastern forest edge. If you could help us get rid of them, I would be happy to provide you with supplies for your journey."

Mikhailis's eyes lit up at the mention of bugs, and he grinned.

"Thorncrawlers, huh? Sounds like a job for us."

Cerys gave him a skeptical look, but there was a hint of a smile at the corners of her lips.

"You're awfully eager for this."

Mikhailis shrugged, his grin widening.

"What can I say? I've got a thing for bugs."

The village head chuckled.

"That's a rather peculiar interest you have there, young man. Very well, then. You have our thanks. The blacksmith can provide you with some tools to aid in your task. The Thorncrawlers have been spotted near a cluster of glowing mushrooms—Starblooms—just on the forest's edge. Take care, and may the forest spirits be with you."

They left the village head's cottage and made their way to the blacksmith, a burly woman named Gretha who handed them a net made of enchanted vines and a pouch of repellent herbs.

"Use the herbs sparingly," Gretha advised, her voice gruff.

"They'll keep the Thorncrawlers at bay, but not for long."

"Thanks, Miss," Cerys said, taking the tools.

"We'll take care of the problem," Mikhailis added, giving the blacksmith a reassuring smile.

As they were preparing to leave, a young boy, no older than ten, approached them with wide eyes full of curiosity. He had a mess of dark curls and a gap-toothed smile, his small frame practically bouncing with excitement.

"Are you the ones going to deal with the Thorncrawlers?" the boy asked, his voice carrying a mix of awe and enthusiasm.

"I saw them near the Starblooms last night. I can show you the way!"

Cerys glanced at Mikhailis, a soft smile on her lips.

"What do you think? Should we let him lead the way?"

Mikhailis looked at the boy, then at Cerys, and shrugged.

"Why not? He seems to know more about this place than we do."

The boy beamed, practically jumping in place.

"Follow me! I know all the shortcuts. It's not far, I promise."

As they walked, the boy chatted animatedly, his voice filled with the innocent excitement only a child could muster. He spoke of the village, his friends, and the stories he'd heard about knights and heroes. Cerys listened, her expression softening with each word.

"You're really brave, you know," the boy said, looking up at Cerys with wide eyes.

"Like one of the heroes from the stories my grandma tells me."

Cerys blinked, her eyes widening slightly at the unexpected compliment. She glanced at Mikhailis, who gave her a knowing smile. She turned back to the boy, her voice gentle.

"Thank you. We'll do our best to keep everyone safe."

"You will! I know it!" the boy said, nodding eagerly.

"They're just over here," he added, pointing toward the eastern edge of the forest.

"I saw them last night—lots of 'em. You're gonna be real heroes for getting rid of 'em!"

Cerys smiled, ruffling the boy's hair.

"Thanks for your help. We'll take care of it from here."

"They're just over here," the boy said, pointing toward the eastern edge of the forest.

The boy beamed, waving as he ran back toward the village. Mikhailis watched him go, then turned to Cerys, his expression softening.

"Did he remind you of your life in your village?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Cerys hesitated, then nodded, her gaze distant.

"Yeah. I guess he does."

Mikhailis placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"We'll take care of this. Together."

Cerys looked at him, her eyes meeting his, and she smiled—a warm, genuine smile.

"Right. Let's do this."

They turned toward the forest, the cluster of glowing Starblooms visible in the distance. The air was thick with anticipation, and Mikhailis couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement.

"Alright, Cerys," he said, grinning.

"Let's do this quest thing. Things are starting to feel like an RPG now."