A few day's later…
Morning sunlight poured through the diner's windows, spilling across the wooden tables and the simple meal laid out before them. The aroma of warm soup and toasted bread mixed with the soft clatter of spoons — a peaceful start to another day.
Woon sat at the head of the table, eating quietly. Arth and the others were midway through their breakfast when his calm voice broke the silence.
"Arth," Woon said, setting his spoon down. "After you finish, take Tina, Jake, and Tyson with you and get them registered at the Adventurers' Guild."
Arth looked up from his bowl, straight-backed and attentive. "Understood. I'll take care of it."
"Good," Woon replied. "It'll be easier for them to start working once they have their licenses."
Tina straightened a little in her seat, her eyes lighting up. "I'm so excited — I can't wait!"
Jake and Tyson exchanged a brief look and nodded silently — both steady and focused, showing quiet agreement without words.
Arth glanced at them with a faint smile. "We'll head there right after breakfast, then."
Woon gave a satisfied nod. "And while you're away, I'll go restock ingredients for the next few days."
As plates emptied, Sabrina began gathering the dishes. "We'll take care of the cleanup," she said, her tone practical but kind.
Misha stood beside her, tying up her hair with a cloth strip. "Yeah, leave it to us. We'll have the place spotless before you're back."
A few moments later…
Arth stood, adjusting his coat. "Alright. We'll be off."
Tina quickly tied her hair back, her excitement barely contained. Jake checked his belt pouch, and Tyson gave a polite nod to Woon.
The door opened, letting in the crisp air and hum of the waking city outside — carts rolling, voices blending, sunlight spilling across the cobblestone street.
The diner quieted again, filled only with the faint rhythm of cleaning and stacking dishes.
Woon finished his tea, stood, and stretched his shoulders. "Alright… time to get some shopping done," he murmured, taking his coin pouch and stepping outside.
The street was alive with motion — vendors calling, customers bargaining, the aroma of baked bread wafting from nearby stalls. Woon took a slow breath, blending into the flow of the crowd.
"Once I'm done with the supplies…" he muttered under his breath, half-smiling, "maybe I'll walk around a bit."
__________
The morning streets of Bahamara were already alive when Woon stepped out. The air carried a mix of baked bread, fresh produce, and the faint sting of smoke from the blacksmith's row. The marketplace stretched ahead — noisy, crowded, and full of motion.
Woon slipped into the current and let it carry him. Merchants called out prices, buyers haggled, carts rattled over stone — the rhythm of trade filling every corner of the square. He didn't rush or linger, moving with quiet focus as he gathered what the diner would need for the next few days.
By the time he finished, the cart beside him was loaded — sacks tied down, crates stacked neatly. He pulled a few coins from his belt pouch and handed them to the driver.
"Take these to the diner in the west district," he said. "Ask for Misha. She'll handle the check-in."
The driver nodded, snapping the reins as the cart rolled into the crowd. The sound of wheels faded quickly under the hum of the market.
Woon lingered, watching people move in and out of the stalls. The sunlight hit the upper walls, but the alleys below stayed in shadow.
He could go back now. That would make sense.
But his eyes drifted toward a narrow path branching off from the main road — quieter, dimmer.
Without much thought, his steps turned that way.
The noise faded behind him as he walked deeper into the side streets. The stone beneath his feet grew rough and uneven, the air heavier, carrying the scent of damp wood and rust. The bright banners of the market gave way to cracked walls and faded paint.
Children sat near a broken fence, watching him silently. A stray dog nosed through a pile of torn sacks. No one here called out prices or smiled at passersby — only the quiet rhythm of survival.
The slums.
He wasn't sure how far he'd wandered until he noticed how still the air had become. Then—
A sharp cry. A dull thud.
He turned his head toward the sound.
Down the adjoining alley, two men loomed over a small figure crouched beside a wall. One grabbed at her shoulder while the other yanked something from her grasp. A short sack — rough cloth, bulging slightly at the bottom.
"Please!" the girl cried, voice trembling. "Give it back! It's medicine— I need it!"
The thinner man sneered. "Medicine, huh? Looks more like coin to me." He shook the sack; the faint jingle of metal confirmed it.
"Picked herbs, didn't you?" the other said, his voice thick. "Can't blame us for collecting a toll."
The girl tried to reach for the bag, but the man shoved her back, sending her to the ground. Her knees scraped stone, a streak of red on her skin.
Woon's expression didn't change — but his eyes narrowed slightly.
The thinner man noticed him first. "What're you staring at, brat?" he snapped, taking a half-step toward him.
The heavier one turned, annoyed. "Ignore him. Let's just grab the—"
He didn't get to finish.
A sharp crack split the air.
Both men jerked violently as faint blue light flashed across their chests. The first hit the wall with a heavy thud; the second collapsed forward, smoke rising faintly from his coat. The whole thing lasted less than a second — no warning, no buildup, just a blinding instant and silence after.
Dust settled. The girl stayed where she was, trembling, her eyes wide in disbelief.
Woon lowered his hand slowly, his fingers still tingling faintly. He stepped closer, glancing at the men to make sure they weren't dead — then turned to the girl.
"You okay?"
She nodded quickly, still catching her breath. "I—I think so…"
Her voice was small, trembling. He crouched slightly, his tone calm. "They didn't hurt you?"
She shook her head, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "No. I was just scared."
His gaze drifted to the small cloth sack lying in the dirt nearby. He picked it up and handed it to her. "This yours?"
She nodded quickly, hugging it to her chest.
Woon studied her for a moment. "What were you doing here?" he asked, his voice steady but not unkind.
The girl hesitated, glancing toward the end of the alley as if expecting the men to move again. "I… I was going to the church," she said softly.
"For what?"
She clutched the bag tighter. "Medicine. My mom's sick." Her words came out in a rush, eyes darting up to meet his. "I didn't mean to come this way. I just— it looked faster."
Woon's gaze flicked down the narrow street, then back to her. "And they spotted you."
She nodded, trembling.
He let out a slow breath through his nose. "Come on," he said after a moment. "I'll walk you there."
The girl blinked, uncertain. "Really?"
He gave a small nod. "You shouldn't be walking around here alone."
Her grip on the sack loosened just slightly, and she took a cautious step closer to him.
Woon turned toward the street, his tone quiet but certain. "Stay close."
She followed without another word, the faint scuff of her shoes the only sound echoing down the now-empty alley.
To be continued…..