Even after being cared for, for the next few days, I drifted in and out of consciousness, my body refusing to obey me at first, making me stuck in bed, slowly recovering. Maybe because it felt as if the world around me was warm and safe—unreasonably so. And I couldn''t really tell why. It just did, and it made me start thinking about whether it was the effect of something. An artifact? A spell? Although I didn''t see any sign of mages existing yet, I couldn''t throw the idea away. Something was... different here. Yet, as much as my instincts told me to stay alert, my body demanded to drop it and enjoy its rest.


    When I finally managed to pry my eyes open one morning, I found myself eerily refreshed. I mean, all the pain was gone, and I felt like I was back to normal. Even when I moved, my bones didn''t hurt, my muscles reacted as they should, and my mind was out of its groggy state. All in all, I knew I was healed. And just like that, the feeling of wanting to rest was gone, too, my body prompting me to get back up and start walking.


    "You''re awake, then," came a gruff but amused voice from the doorway, making me flinch for a moment.


    After I turned my head, I watched as an old man leaned against the doorframe, a small smile visible behind his short, silvery beard. He was broad-shouldered and tall, but more than that, he had a presence that was commanding. Even despite his weathered age, I somehow felt as if he could mop the floor with me if he wanted. Weird... but I trusted my instincts. His white beard and hair were well-kept, contrasted by the deep lines on his face, telling a different story than what should fit an innkeeper. There was a deep scar cut across his left cheek, and somehow, I didn''t think it was from a barfight or a misjudged swing of a breadknife.


    "Thank–"


    "No need." Before I could finish, the old man cut me off as he stepped inside, carrying a wooden tray with a steaming bowl of stew and a cup of what smelled like spiced tea. "Reckon, you should eat before you start asking questions."


    "Thanks..." I muttered, finishing my original sentence and sitting up. The moment he put the tray in my lap, I realized how hungry I was, beginning to wolf the whole meal down without holding anything back. The old man clicked his tongue, watching me eat without reservation. "Easy there, lad, nobody will take it away!" He laughed before his eyes moved to the scar I will now have, reminding me of the close call I just had. "That bolt was buried deep—would''ve lost that arm if you''d wandered the forest much longer. You were lucky."


    "I am lucky..." I exhaled, knowing the man was right and that it was my second go at life. I was indeed one lucky bastard, weren''t I? "Lira…?"


    "She is helping my wife with the Sleepy Squirrel," the old man replied, sitting down on a chair next to my bed, pulling out a pipe from his vest''s inner pocket and lighting it up. "Name''s Garron, by the way. My wife, Mirra, is the one who patched you up. Mostly. So next time, thank her."


    Just as if summoned, the old woman entered the room carrying fresh linens in her hand. Her presence was much softer than Garron''s, but there was something in her gaze I couldn''t really read. It was a type of quiet strength, a hidden sharpness that could only originate from experience. As for what kind of experience? Probably a killer one. Her similarly gray hair was streaked with some black, holding onto her lost youth, pulled back into a practical braid. Moving my eyes, though her hands looked delicate, I could tell they had the type of calluses that showed she wasn''t used to delicate work... that is for sure.


    "You were half-dead when you stumbled in," Mirra said without allowing me to speak up, setting the linens down. "Poor little Lira nearly had a heart attack."


    "Thank you..." I let out a breathless chuckle, shaking my head. "She worries too much."


    "She worries exactly the right amount," She corrected me with a snap, giving me a pointed look. "I take it this isn''t the first time you''ve come close to dying?"


    "Err..." I hesitated, choosing to be honest. I had the feeling they would know if I tried to lie. "Not exactly."


    "Kids." Garron chuckled, handing me the tea, seeing that I was finished with my meal. "Then you''re either very unlucky or very stubborn."


    "Bit of both," I admitted, taking a careful sip, feeling how hot the cup was. The warmth spread through my body instantly, easing the remaining tightness in my muscles... damn. This was more than good. This was superb. I wondered... how much will this cost me?


    ...


    ....


    ......


    Over the next few days, I found myself recovering faster than I expected. I mean, my body was fine already, but I found some issues with my thoughts and my mind. I felt a bit harder to keep up with my recovered fitness, knocking things over and dropping utensils without wanting to. Garron said I simply needed some time to adjust and regain my reflexes, telling me that my mind still thought I should be injured, yet my body was healed, causing a mismatch between my perception and reality. This indeed seemed to be the case as I began improving as the days went by.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    It also made me think... That was thanks to our caretakers. I mean, there was something more than just patching me up. Mirra''s cooking was more than just food. Honestly, it felt infused with something more, something that helped my mind recover just as fast as my body did. I wasn''t foolish enough to think it was pure magic, but there was an unmistakable quality to the way she and Garron prepared our meals. Could this be related to potions? A type of alchemy? I was getting sure of it, but I wouldn''t be rude enough to ask it. But I was crude enough to suggest to Lira to keep an eye out and try to see if there is more to it... maybe she can pick something up while shadowing Mirra in the kitchen.


    Doing the same thing, I started spending my time downstairs in the common area, watching as Garron served drinks and swapped stories with travelers while Mirra prepared meals with practiced efficiency. Of course, I wasn''t just sitting around; I was helping out with everything, from cutting firewood, exercising my muscles, feeling no pain at all, or just cleaning up the inn before night. Every time we returned to our rooms, Lira always stayed close, constantly watching me with a mixture of relief and exasperation, even if I told her that I was fine.


    Then... one evening, I couldn''t hold the question down.


    "Excuse my bluntness..." I spoke up as I nursed a drink by the fire, there being only the four of us there. Maybe it was the slightly alcoholic drink that loosened my tongue. "You two aren''t just innkeepers, are you?"


    "Hm?" Garron raised an eyebrow while Mirra merely smiled knowingly. "What makes you say that, kid?"


    "Well," I gestured at them vaguely. "The way you move. The way you talk. The way Mirra treats wounds like she''s done it a hundred times before. And the way you both handle knives in the kitchen. Or the quality of the food you make. Or the drinks. Or both of your auras. Everything."


    "Took you longer than I expected! I mean, asking the question, that is." Garron let out a hearty laugh, flipping a gold coin over to his wife, making me twitch an eye... Did they bet on me? Seems like it. "Sharp eyes, lad."


    "I told you a good drink would prompt it out of him," Mirra smirked, setting down a plate of roasted meat and bread in front of her husband. "We''ve been around, yeah. But that''s all you need to know."


    "I see..." I didn''t press. If they wanted to keep their past a mystery, I wouldn''t push them. I am curious but not stupid. So, instead, I shifted the conversation to something else, wanting to use their experience to our advantage. "We''ll be heading south soon. What should we expect?"


    "Heading out? Hm. True, you are more than good to back into the fray that adventuring is. The South... huh?" At that, Garron''s expression grew more serious. "South of here, you''re heading into the Federation of Free Cities."


    "Federation...?" I frowned, glancing at Lira, but she just shook her head. I already knew that she wasn''t sure of the overall politics of the land, only living within the one city she had ever known. And some of its surroundings... but that was all. "I''ve heard the name before, but not much beyond that," I muttered, hoping that my white lie wouldn''t be taken as an offense.


    "It is different." Mirra sat down across from us, looking at me. "The Federation isn''t like the kingdoms around us. It''s made up of seven city-states, each one ruling itself, though they have a loose alliance when it benefits them. Usually against external dangers. Their laws change from city to city, and the only real rule that applies to all of them is that money and power talk."


    "So it''s lawless?" Lira asked from beside me, her arms crossed, tapping nervously with her fingers.


    "Not lawless," Garron corrected, swallowing a big bite. "Just… selective. If you''ve got coin or influence, you''ll find protection. If you don''t, justice can be hard to come by."


    "Doesn''t sound that much different... only more open about it," I muttered as I absorbed the information. "And the cities themselves?"


    "They have everything." Mirra nodded. "Also, they aren''t all human-dominated like the northern kingdoms. The Federation is diverse—humans, dwarves, beastfolk, and even some rebellious orcs and goblins have their own places among them. Some cities are known for their mercantile wealth, others for their mercenary guilds. But make no mistake—while there''s opportunity, there''s also danger. You''ll want to keep your wits about you. Everything can be legal there, with the proper backing."


    "I see..." I muttered as I leaned back in my chair, considering their words. "Sounds like our kind of place."


    "Maybe..." Mirra sighed. "That''s what I''m afraid of. Kids like you can be reckless..."


    ...


    ....


    ......


    "Kid," As Lira and I prepared to leave, Garron handed me a small, intricately carved wooden token. "If you find yourself in Silverhaven, look for a man named Kael. He''s an old friend. Show him this, and he''ll help you."


    "Silverhaven?" I asked as I turned the token over in my hands, noting the symbol of a coiled serpent etched into the wood. "What''s this for?"


    "You''ll see." Garron chuckled. "You may not need it, but it is better to have it than not when it is needed."


    "Thank you... But why...?" I asked, thinking about it for a while. Why are they helping us? I even asked what the price was for all they did for us, but they said there was none.


    "Just." Mirran smiled at both of us. "We are old. It is all that is left for us to do for the new generation. That''s all. Stay safe, kids... Okay? If you want to pay back anything, don''t waste the life we saved. That is all... Really."


    After that, there was nothing much to say. I thanked them once again before heading out. As we trotted towards the South, Lira broke the silence first.


    "What are we really looking for after we cross the border, Auriel?"


    "I don''t know yet," I answered honestly. "We will find a place and then go from there. See what opportunities we can grab and... well, start building a new life."


    "A new life does sound good..." She smiled and, nervously, reached out, holding my hand.