The tea was strong, bitter, but comforting. Steam danced above the worn ceramic cups, winding through the air like the last ember of a dying fire. Lukasyl drank in silence, his eyes fixed on the dark liquid as he absorbed every detail of the account.
Finally, he sighed. "So that's what happened..." he murmured, turning the cup between his hands. "Knowing my boy was right... means a lot to me."
His voice sounded broken, an old grief mixed with a subdued pride. He rose, moving slowly to the back of the house. When he returned, a pouch of coins rested in his calloused palm.
Unceremoniously, he tossed the payment into Colin's hands. "As promised. You deserve it."
Colin stood up, followed by his companions. He weighed the pouch, feeling the heft of the reward and the victory. "I'd like to stay and enjoy the place, but it seems that lair had some sort of time warp spell."
Lukasyl nodded, as if the revelation barely surprised him. "Of course, of course... Thank you, once again."
Colin raised the pouch with a crooked smile. "This is thanks enough. Take care, old man."
As they left the house, Colin tossed the coin pouch into the air, catching it deftly and repeating the motion. "That went better than I expected. Are we rich yet?"
Safira huffed, crossing her arms. "Hardly. Everything in Ultan is expensive, and our stay at the One-Eyed Dwarf doesn't come cheap either."
Brighid, walking beside him, tilted her head slightly, tucking her hair behind her ear and revealing her delicate face under the late afternoon light. "As soon as we pass the test, we'll have a bit of breathing room financially," she pondered. "If we join a guild, we can earn much more. I heard they make a fortune with jobs like this."
Colin stopped, thoughtful, and then smiled. "Actually, what if we started a guild? You two are strong, and I can hold my own."
Brighid nodded slowly, weighing the idea. "It's a good strategy. The soldiers might stop hassling us."
Colin shrugged, his eyes shining with enthusiasm. "They won't stop. We'll always be a problem for them. No noble house. No surname. No fortune. But that is exactly what will set us apart."
Brighid stopped, facing him. "Colin... do you really want to be a part of this? The soldiers of Ultan... you know how they are."
Colin glanced at her sideways, his expression softening for an instant. "We won't be like them. Trust me. And if you don't want to... we won't do it."
Brighid felt a strange warmth in her chest. She looked away, uncertain. "I want to. I'm just... thinking."
Colin watched her, as if wanting to ensure she was being sincere. "Do you trust me?" he asked, without looking away.
Brighid hesitated, but soon nodded slightly. "I do..."
He gave a lopsided smile and turned to Safira. "And you, Safira? Do you trust me?"
The girl broke into an excited smile. "You're our leader, right? I'll go wherever you want!"
Colin's smile widened. "Then rest easy. I've never failed you, and I'm not going to start now."
Brighid had never liked Ultan. The narrow, stifling streets, the smell of scorched metal in the air, the suspicious glares from the soldiers, and the constant feeling of being watched. Ultan was a city that chewed people up and spat out only the bones, an empire built on servitude and blood. At first, she just wanted to leave. Far away. To anywhere else.
But Colin... Colin spoke of the city with a gleam in his eyes, a fascination that disarmed her in a way she didn't want to admit. It was hard to ignore the way he saw chaos as opportunity, how he saw beyond the dirty streets and the oppression of the nobles, as if everything there were a game board waiting for his moves.
And the worst part? She had started seeing it the same way. The idea of leaving sounded less urgent. Less necessary. Now, when he mentioned creating a guild—our own guild—Brighid realized she was no longer thinking about running away.
She still remembered the time when she considered every day there as one less day in the city. But now, the days piled up without her counting. When did that happen? When did she stop planning her exit? When did Ultan stop being just a burden and start being a challenge? Maybe when she saw how the world bent around Colin. Maybe when she realized that, despite everything, this was where he belonged. And, inevitably, her too.
Brighid sighed, as if finally admitting to herself what she had been denying for days. "Alright, we'll follow you, Colin..." she said, looking away from him, her fingers playing with a lock of her hair.
◊❱───────⸂◍⸃───────❰◊
Back at the inn, they changed clothes, took a hot bath, and prepared to depart. The smell of fresh bread and roasted meat hung in the air, mixed with the comforting aroma of wood heated by the fireplace. The innkeeper, always worried, prepared generous provisions for the trip, insisting they eat well.
When they finally went out to the courtyard, they found Ivan waiting for them. He looked nervous but eager, holding the reins of a strong, sturdy horse pulling a wagon loaded with supplies and the spoils of battle.
"S-Sir! Ladies! Here it is!" he said, his voice trembling. "I did as you asked. I got the wagon and put half of the valuables inside."
Colin smiled, climbing onto the wagon with ease. "Thanks, Ivan. Take care."
The man waved, swallowing hard. "Y-You too!" He paused, as if gathering courage. "We're going to use this money to improve the village. I promise. Next time you come, you'll be impressed!"
Colin turned his back, raising a hand in farewell without looking back. "I hope so."
And with that, they set off. The wind blew hard as they followed the road, carrying with it the last traces of a village that would never be the same.