The next morning, Millhaven looked almost too peaceful to be real. Sunlight stretched over the rooftops, painting them gold. Aki leaned on the town gate and breathed in the smell of fresh bread drifting from the market square. His stomach growled loud enough that Ren snorted.
"Okay," Ren said, tugging at Aki's sleeve, "step one: bed. Step two: food. Step three: don't starve."
"Solid plan," Aki muttered, rubbing his eyes.
They found an inn near the square—a timber-framed house with a painted sign of a steaming mug swinging gently in the breeze. The Wayfarer's Rest.
Inside smelled like cider and old wood. A portly man with a beard so neatly trimmed it looked suspiciously magical leaned on the counter.
"Welcome," he said warmly. "First time in Millhaven?"
Ren raised a hand. "First time anywhere, honestly. Got any cheap rooms?"
The man chuckled, deep as rolling thunder. "Name's Jorren. And lucky for you, I've got a slow season. Room Three, two beds. Two copper a night."
Ren elbowed Aki. "We don't even know what copper's worth."
Jorren laughed again. "Pay me when you earn some. I'm not worried." He slid two cloth tokens across the counter. "Show these upstairs to Maribel. She'll fuss at you, but she means well."
The room was small, with two narrow beds, a window, and a chest that creaked like it was older than Tokyo itself. Aki sat heavily, staring at the empty street below.
"We need to figure out how this world even works. Currency, work, food…"
Ren opened the chest, pulling out folded blankets. "And jobs. Unless you wanna live off squashed rice balls for eternity."
Back in the square, a carved oak door caught Ren's eye. Across it, a bulletin board fluttered with parchment.
"Guild Hall," Aki read.
Ren grinned. "Tutorial mode unlocked."
They scanned the notices: escort caravans, herd sheep, deliver letters. Most looked way out of their league. One, however, stood out:
"Herb sorting for Mrs. Cornwright — Reward: 5 silver."
Ren jabbed it. "Finally, a quest where we don't get stabbed."
---
Mrs. Cornwright's cottage smelled like someone had stuffed the air itself with lavender. She was spry and sharp-eyed, spectacles perched halfway down her nose.
"You're here for the herbs? Good. Sit." She shoved baskets into their hands before they could answer. "Leaves in one pile, stems in the other. Don't mix them up—unless you want a very explosive headache."
Aki nodded seriously and began sorting with surgical precision. Ren, meanwhile, made small talk.
"So, uh… seen any dragons lately?"
Mrs. Cornwright didn't even glance up. "My granddaughter swears she saw one by the river. Personally, I think she's exaggerating. But then, I've never trusted geese either."
"Geese?" Ren blinked.
"Mean as demons, geese are," she said briskly, snapping a stem in half.
Aki stifled a laugh, nearly dropping his pile.
Hours slipped by. By the time their fingers were stained green, the baskets were perfectly sorted. Mrs. Cornwright counted out their pay with surprising precision: a few dull copper coins.
"Come back tomorrow if you've still got fingers," she said, shooing them out with surprising strength for her age.
---
Back in the market, Ren jingled his coins like treasure. "We're rich, Aki. Copper barons. Drinks on me."
Aki rolled his eyes but smiled. His gaze caught on a stall lined with glowing vials. The sign read: Elixirs & Tinctures — Alchemist Anwyn.
An auburn-haired woman with soot on her cheek waved him over. "First time seeing real alchemy?" she teased.
"Uh—yeah. This is incredible. Could you… maybe teach me?"
She leaned forward, lowering her voice. "Show up tomorrow afternoon. I'll give you a lesson. First rule: if you blow up my shop, you're cleaning it yourself."
Ren muttered, "Guess who's definitely blowing something up."
But Aki was grinning too wide to care.
---
That evening, the Wayfarer's Rest glowed with lantern light. They sat at a corner table with steaming bowls of stew, coins clinking softly in their pockets.
It wasn't much. But it was theirs—the first step, the first tiny victory.
Aki raised his spoon like a toast. "To surviving day one."
Ren clinked his spoon against it. "And not being eaten by geese."
They laughed, and for a moment, Millhaven felt less like a strange dream and more like the beginning of something real.