The sun had barely risen over Finhaven Island when Raphael strolled into the village, hands tucked into his pockets.
The salty breeze from the sea mingled with the warm scent of freshly baked bread drifting from the baker's stall, creating a comforting aroma typical of early mornings.
A normal day for most, but not for him.
For the past three days, he had wandered the village, listening, watching, waiting for any sign that someone was searching for the baby he had found.
Yet, nothing.
No whispers of rumors.
No worried parents.
No missing child notices.
It was as if the baby had never existed.
"This is strange… too strange,"
He murmured to himself, furrowing his brow.
He needed answers.
It was time to investigate properly.
As he walked through the square, he heard the thunderous sound of steel pounded rhythmically by a hammer.
The blacksmith's stall was alive with activity.
Leaning on the wooden counter, Raphael watched as the blacksmith hammered away at a glowing horseshoe, the sparks cascading like fireflies in the morning light.
"So,"
Raphael began, tapping his fingers against the counter impatiently.
"Heard any strange rumors lately? Someone missing a kid? Maybe a baby that washed up on shore?"
The blacksmith paused, wiping sweat from his brow, and eyed him suspiciously.
"Nope."
Raphael nodded slowly, suppressing his disappointment.
"Right, right. But if, hypothetically, someone found a baby?"
The blacksmith stopped mid-swing and narrowed his eyes.
"You found a baby, didn't you?"
Raphael coughed, startled.
"I—what? No! Who said anything about me?"
"You just did,"
he replied, pointing his hammer at Raphael with an accusatory gleam.
Raphael paused, realizing his misstep. With a dramatic wave of his hand, he cleared his throat.
"Ehem, forget I said anything. You saw nothing. Heard nothing."
The blacksmith sighed and returned to his work, his hammer striking down with a definitive clang.
"Get out of my shop, Raphael."
Raising his hands in defeat, Raphael retreated and made his way toward the baker's stall.
The warm scent of fresh bread filled the air, wrapping around him like a comforting embrace.
"Morning, old man,"
the baker greeted, kneading dough with practiced hands.
"Morning,"
Raphael replied, leaning against the counter, his mouth watering at the delicious aroma.
"Say, hypothetically—"
The baker interrupted immediately.
"Raphael, if this is another one of your dumb 'hypothetical' questions, I swear—"
"Hey! No need for hostility!"
Raphael raised his hands defensively.
"I'm just asking if anyone's been acting strange. Maybe looking for a baby?"
The baker narrowed her eyes, her face a mask of suspicion.
"Did you find a baby?"
Raphael scoffed and crossed his arms.
"Pfft. Me? No. That would be crazy."
The baker pointed at him with a finger like a gavel.
"You really found a baby!"
"Okay, okay, fine! But keep your voice down!"
Raphael hissed, anxious glances shooting around the bustling square.
The baker chuckled softly.
"You're terrible at this."
Raphael groaned, rubbing his temples in frustration.
That afternoon, Raphael slumped on the wooden fence, watching a crow soar overhead, its caw echoing mockingly.
A day of fruitless searching had left him feeling defeated.
"Another day, another failure,"
He sighed deeply.
Then two drunken buddies stumbled past him, arm in arm, their laughter filling the air like an unwelcome noise, awakening a spark of inspiration in Raphael's mind.
"Wait, why did I forget that place?"
Without wasting another moment, Raphael headed to the tavern, slumping onto the counter and ordering a drink.
This time, he needed to listen instead of ask.
The tavern buzzed with life, the air thick with overlapping conversations and lively debates.
He leaned back, sipping his drink, ears sharp for anything useful.
"…Heard the Vanderick Empire's been increasing patrols,"
one patron said.
"Tsk, what else is new?"
Another replied dismissively.
"No, it's different this time. Someone important got killed, I heard."
"Bah! It's probably just another noble. They kill each other all the time."
Raphael perked up slightly.
"That was… interesting. But still, nothing about a baby."
From a nearby table, a voice cut through the chatter.
"Did you hear? Old man Raphael's been sneaking around asking weird questions!"
Raphael nearly spat out his drink, choking on the words.
"Yeah! I saw him bothering the blacksmith earlier. Probably looking for free stuff again."
"No way, I bet he's in trouble with the priestess again!"
"Hah! Poor guy's probably trying to cover up whatever mess he made this time."
With a sigh, Raphael pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You know, I could be a dangerous man, gathering intelligence for a secret mission,"
He muttered under his breath, feeling more sheepish by the moment.
"No, you're just an idiot,"
The bartender said, placing another drink in front of him with a smirk.
Raphael groaned.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Everyone's a critic."
His investigation was officially a disaster.
Defeated, Raphael had no choice but to return home.
Pushing open the wooden gate, it creaked loudly, as if echoing his disappointment.
The familiar scent of roasted fish and warm bread embraced him as he entered their small cottage.
Marjorie was already setting the table, humming softly an old adventurer song.
"Find anything?"
She asked, glancing up with a hopeful smile.
Raphael dropped into his chair with a heavy sigh.
"Nothing. Not a single person mentioned a missing child. But apparently, everyone thinks I'm up to no good."
Marjorie chuckled, placing a bowl in front of him.
"Because you're terrible at being subtle?"
"Is not that easy you know,"
he retorted, a smirk creeping onto his face.
Marjorie turned to the baby, now swaddled in soft blankets near the hearth.
"Then we keep him."
Raphael blinked in surprise.
"Just like that?"
She sat beside him, her gaze soft yet resolute.
"No one is coming for him, Raphael. We could ask a thousand times, but in the end, he's still here."
Raphael exhaled, the weight of her words settling in.
"You've already decided, haven't you?"
Marjorie smirked playfully.
"I knew the moment you brought him home."
Her eyes drifted to the fish drying by the fire, their shimmering scales catching the warm light and revealing the simplicity of their life on Finhaven.
"We should give him a name."
Raphael leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"What do you have in mind?"
Marjorie's smile widened, and she glanced at the sleeping infant.
"Fin. Short, simple, and full of life. Just like the island."
Raphael chuckled.
"Fin, huh? I like it. Let's hope he grows as strong as the fish that swim these waters."
The baby, now named Fin, stared up at them quietly, as if he understood the love surrounding him.
For the first time in days, Raphael allowed himself to relax.
Tomorrow, they would begin a new life.
As Raphael and Marjorie sat together, their hearts warmed by the joy of their decision, the day began to fade into twilight, painting the sky with hues of orange and deep purple.
The soft crackle of the fire resonated in the cozy cottage, a stark contrast to the chaos brewing just beyond their serene island.
To be continued...