Data and Magic

The night at the Sharwood Adventurers Guild, though brief, offered a welcome respite from the constant tension of the forest. William slept soundly, his body exhausted from the previous days' ordeal, his mind still processing the whirlwind of new information and experiences. He woke feeling refreshed, the aches and pains in his body significantly diminished, a testament to both Mendal's care and the mysterious accelerated healing he'd experienced.

As the first rays of dawn filtered through the cracks in the wooden shutters of the common room, William, Julia, and Edward gathered their belongings, preparing for the long journey to the capital city of Aver. They spent a short time at the town's market square, a surprisingly well-stocked area despite Sharwood's precarious situation. Julia and Edward, with practiced efficiency, selected provisions: dried meats, biscuits, dried fruits, and sufficient water for two weeks travel. William, still feeling like an outsider in this world of practical necessities, observed their choices, noting the emphasis on portability and longevity.

While Julia and Edward focused on provisions, William was directed towards a gruff, burly blacksmith who also served as the town's armorer. He was presented with a set of basic adventurer's gear – a far cry from the tailored suit he'd arrived in, but infinitely more practical. The armour was light, consisting of a padded leather jerkin reinforced with metal plates at the shoulders and chest, offering a degree of protection without hindering movement. He was also given a sturdy pair of leather boots, a belt with various pouches for carrying essentials, and, most importantly, a weapon.

"Choose what suits you," the blacksmith grunted, gesturing towards a rack of swords, axes, and spears.

William hesitated, his gaze sweeping over the array of weapons. He had no experience with any of them, his previous life having been devoid of any need for physical combat. He remembered Edward's sword, the way it had moved with such lethal grace, the crackling lightning that had surrounded it. He reached out and tentatively grasped the hilt of a simple, straight-bladed sword. It felt surprisingly heavy in his hand, the cold steel a stark contrast to the familiar weight of a keyboard or a mouse.

"A sword, eh?" The blacksmith raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Not the easiest weapon to master, lad. But a good choice for a beginner. Versatile, balanced. Just remember, it's not a club. It's about precision, about control, not just brute force."

William nodded, feeling a mixture of apprehension and determination. He would learn. He had to.

With their preparations complete, the trio bid farewell to Sharwood, passing through the fortified gates and heading east, towards the distant glimmer of hope that was the capital city. The road ahead was long, stretching for over a week's journey on foot, a daunting prospect even without the ever-present threat of the Dark Legion.

The first couple of days were spent in relatively rapid travel, putting as much distance as possible between themselves and the known goblin activity near Sharwood. They moved with a practiced efficiency, Edward taking the lead, his senses constantly alert for any sign of danger, Julia flanking William, her hand never far from the small pouch at her belt where she kept her spell components. The landscape was a mix of rolling hills, open fields, and patches of dense woodland, a testament to Aver's once-bountiful nature, now shadowed by the encroaching war.

Despite the urgency of their mission, there were frequent stops, dictated by William's still-recovering leg and the need to conserve their energy for the long journey ahead. During these breaks, Julia and Edward took the opportunity to begin William's training, a crash course in survival and combat, a crash course that would likely continue to evolve on their journey.

The first order of business, after ensuring William's physical well-being, was language. Julia refreshed the translation spell, the familiar golden glow emanating from her fingertips, but she also emphasized the importance of learning the common tongue of Aver.

"The spell is a temporary measure, William," she explained, her voice patient and encouraging. "It's useful for immediate communication, but it's not a long-term solution. If you're going to stay in Aver, if you're going to fight alongside us, you need to understand our language, our customs, our way of life. It's a matter of respect, but also of survival."

And so, their journey became a mobile classroom. Julia, with her surprisingly natural aptitude for teaching, introduced him to the basics of the language: common greetings, essential phrases, the structure of sentences, the nuances of pronunciation. Edward, though less verbose, would occasionally chime in with practical advice, demonstrating the use of specific words in context, correcting William's pronunciation with a gruff but helpful hand.

William, to his own surprise, found the language lessons surprisingly easy. Perhaps it was the lingering effect of Julia's spell, creating a subconscious bridge between his mind and the new language, or perhaps it was his own analytical mind, his ability to recognize patterns and structures, that allowed him to grasp the fundamentals with unexpected speed. He treated the language like a complex code, deconstructing it into its component parts, identifying the rules that governed its grammar and syntax, and then reconstructing it into meaningful sentences. He memorized vocabulary with a relentless focus, repeating words and phrases until they became ingrained in his memory, his mind a vast database storing and processing new information.

There were similarities between the language of Aver and English, subtle echoes of shared linguistic roots, that aided his learning. Verb conjugations, sentence structures, even some individual words, bore a faint resemblance to his native tongue, allowing him to draw parallels, to make connections, to accelerate his comprehension. It was like learning a dialect, a variation of a familiar language, rather than something entirely alien.

Within a couple of days, William had progressed from complete ignorance to a basic level of conversational fluency. He could understand simple sentences, ask basic questions, and express his needs and intentions, albeit with a heavy accent and occasional grammatical errors. It was far from perfect, but it was enough to communicate, to connect, to begin to bridge the gap between his old world and this new one.

Julia and Edward were both impressed by his progress, their initial surprise giving way to genuine admiration. "You have a gift for languages, William," Julia said, her eyes sparkling with encouragement. "Most people take weeks, even months, to reach this level of proficiency."

Edward, ever the pragmatist, simply grunted in agreement. "Good. The less we have to rely on that spell, the better."

But language was only one aspect of William's training. He also needed to learn how to defend himself, how to survive in a world where danger lurked around every corner. And so, alongside the language lessons, Edward began to teach him the basics of swordsmanship.