By the time Silas arrived, the roadside tavern was nearly empty. He noticed two people behind the counter, busy washing dishes in the kitchen.
"Excuse me," Silas said, his footsteps echoing inside the tavern, "can I speak with the owner?"
Silas hadn't expected the owner to be in the kitchen so early, but to his surprise, the nearly bald man washing dishes was actually the owner.
"That would be me," the owner said as he grabbed a towel to dry his hands. "Do you want a room for the day?"
People often stopped at this tavern for a room. It was inexpensive and conveniently located near the city, so many chose it to save money. Taverns within the city were more expensive and often too crowded.
Ashamed, Silas said, "I do want a room, but I don't have any money with me… Maybe I can help you with something? I know how to cook, and clean too."
Silas was telling the truth. He had learned a great deal from his father, who had raised him alone. The owner looked at Silas for a moment and asked, "Do you really know these things or are you just making it up?"
"I do. Why would I lie? You would spot my lack of skills pretty fast, right?" Silas said.
The owner was convinced by his words. "You can help us with the dishes, the breakfast for the guests, and the lunch too. After that, you are free to rest and will have a room for the night. What do you say?"
It was a good offer. Usually, owners of places like this made people work all day just for a place to sleep.
Maybe Silas's youth made the owner feel sorry for him, or perhaps the bald man was simply a kind person.
Silas didn't waste any time and went straight to the kitchen. He picked up where the tavern owner had left off, washing dishes. When he finished those, there were still more to do.
The owner went upstairs to his room to rest. He rarely had help, so he wanted to enjoy his free time and relax for the first time in weeks.
"Do you really know how to cook?" Malachar asked, "Washing dishes is something any idiot can do, but cooking is different."
"Aren't you capable of seeing my memories? You would see that I can cook well," Silas said.
"It doesn't work like that. I know some important things that have happened to you, but not everything. Well, let's say I will be watching you cook, and certainly cheering for you, right?"
Malachar chuckled. Silas could easily hear the irony in his voice.
As Silas washed the dishes, a young woman dried them with a towel. Her features looked similar to the tavern owner's, so Silas guessed she was his daughter.
"Are you here all by yourself?" she asked.
She realized that might be something private to Silas, so she added, "I'm sorry to ask you about your personal life. Forgive me."
Silas smiled. "Don't worry about it. Yes, I'm on my own. It's a little sad, isn't it?"
The woman thought differently. "No, not sad, brave. I think you are really brave to be out in this dangerous world, all by yourself. You are undoubtedly someone who will achieve your dreams."
Silas looked at her, surprised. "Thanks for saying that. Not many people are nice to me."
He was used to talking with talented acolytes from the magic academy or spoiled nobles who looked down on him. Speaking with someone like her felt refreshing, as it was a rare occasion in his life.
"I bet your work here is not easy," Silas said.
"Sort of. I like working with my family, but sometimes I wish I could do something else. Maybe learn magic. It sounds fun. If I were strong enough, I could explore the world."
Silas considered telling her that he was weak but still exploring the world, but he didn't want to encourage her to take risks. He had Malachar and the system to help him, so he believed he would soon be able to face the world's dangers on his own. But what about her?
"Do you know if you have a talent for magic or not?" Silas asked her.
"I think not," she said, "my father paid someone to test me when I was younger, and I didn't have any affinity with the main elements."
Silas had a similar experience. His father paid someone to test him, and he had a very low affinity for fire. Thanks to his father's connections, he got a spot in the magic academy, hoping he could become strong enough to earn a living and have a comfortable life.
But she didn't have any affinity with the main elements at all. She was in an even more difficult situation than Silas.
At least, that's what Silas thought. Malachar, who had been quiet in his mind, spoke to him again.
"She has some talent to practice the dark arts," he said, "I think she might be a good addition to your team."
"What? Really?" Silas said.
He hadn't expected that.
"Yes, but don't make her leave yet. You need to get to a decent level of strength so you can protect her, and teach her things," Malachar said.
Silas wasn't ready to bring her along. He chose to stay mysterious and not share much.
"Let's say I come back here in a few months," Silas whispered, "just to tell you might have an affinity for magic. Would you go with me to learn more about it?"
He was just testing the waters. It sounded a bit strange, but to his surprise, the woman was excited.
"I knew you had to be a powerful mage to be traveling alone like this," she said, "Of course, I would. I would do anything to leave this boring life of mine."
"I see," he said, "so keep living your boring life for a while, and wait for my return."
The brief stop in the tavern proved worthwhile. Silas may have found the first future follower of Malachar, the God of Death.