"You guessed it," Rain replied to Anya with a faint smile, leaning back against the sofa's soft cushions. "We came for glory, wealth, and, of course, adventure. My name is Rain, and this is my friend, Bell."
His tone was relaxed, devoid of youthful timidity, which seemed only to fuel the catgirl's curiosity. Her tail, which had been wrapped around his arm, now tapped playfully against his shoulder.
"Rain and Bell, nya... Pretty names for pretty boys!" Anya purred, scooting even closer until their thighs touched. "Since you're rookies, you probably need some help, right? We can tell you where to get the best gear or which Familias are recruiting right now!"
Bell, meanwhile, was frozen in a stupor under Syr's steady gaze. Her ashen eyes studied him with such warm, enveloping interest that he felt the blood rushing to his face, while his tongue stuck fast to the roof of his mouth. She wasn't as overtly aggressive as Anya, but her quiet attention felt far more pervasive.
"We… we would be very grateful for any information," he managed to squeeze out, trying to avoid her eyes and instead drilling his gaze into the pattern on the tabletop.
"Of course we'll help," Syr said gently, her voice like silk. "The city can be very unkind to those who do not know its secrets."
Their conversation, barely begun, was cut short by a shadow that suddenly engulfed their table. The powerful, stocky figure of a dwarf woman in the severe dress of a tavern hostess appeared out of nowhere, hands planted on her broad hips. Her face, framed by fiery red braids, was stern, and her brown eyes flashed lightning.
"Anya! Syr!" her voice thundered, making not only the guilty waitresses flinch but a good half of the patrons as well. "What the hell are you doing lounging around with customers? There's a mountain of dirty dishes in the kitchen, and the orders aren't going to serve themselves!"
The girls jumped up as if scalded.
"Mama Mia, we were just..." Anya tried to explain.
"'Just' wagging your tongues and shirking work!" the hostess, evidently named Mama Mia, cut her off. "Both of you! March to the kitchen! And I don't want to see you in the hall until everything in there is sparkling!"
Syr and Anya, casting guilty and slightly disappointed glances at the boys, bolted for the kitchen. Mama Mia watched them go with a withering look, then turned to Rain and Bell. Her expression did not soften.
"And as for you, lovebirds," she rumbled, as two huge plates of steaming stew and two foaming mugs of ale landed on their table with a dull thud. "Since my employees were distracted because of you, you're going to compensate for the damages. This is your order. And you're going to eat it. All of it."
"But we didn't order..." Bell began.
"Refusals not accepted!" the dwarf woman snapped. "Consider it a fine for disrupting the workflow. Bon appétit."
Without another word, she turned and marched toward the bar with a heavy, confident gait. Rain watched her go, a crooked smirk playing on his lips. When the hostess was a few steps away, he leaned in to the stunned Bell and whispered so quietly that only he could hear:
"Women like her, who value the clink of coins over a man's shoulder, usually end up with nothing but coins in a cold bed... in the company of fifty cats."
Unexpectedly, Mama Mia's powerful figure froze. She was standing with her back to them, but Bell saw her shoulders tense and tremble ever so slightly. Slowly, with terrifying inevitability, she began to turn. Her face was twisted in fury, and a veritable inferno raged in her eyes.
"Why, you... little puppy," she hissed, her voice low and vibrating with such anger that the air in the tavern seemed to drop in temperature.
Rain froze. Cold sweat instantly broke out on his forehead. He didn't understand. How? How could she have heard his whisper from that distance through the roar of the tavern? He shot up from the table, raising his hands in a placating gesture.
"I apologize, that was extremely inappropriate of me, I..."
He didn't get to finish. Suddenly, his entire being howled in terror. The noise of the tavern, the smells of food, the lamplight—everything vanished, replaced by one all-consuming sensation. Danger. Not the sharp, understandable threat of a goblin or wild beast. This was something else. A crushing, absolute presence, as if he, a tiny ant, were caught in the shadow of a collapsing mountain. All his instincts, honed in a past life, screamed not of battle, but of flight, of survival. He felt absolutely naked and defenseless before a force he could neither comprehend nor measure.
Time slowed for him, stretching like molasses. He saw Mama Mia standing by the bar, her fists clenched. She wasn't moving.
And in the next instant, she was already in front of him.
There were no steps, no dash. Just a disappearance there and an appearance here. The air cracked from her movement. Her palm, which seemed the size of an anvil in Rain's slowed perception, was hurtling toward his head. It was a simple slap, but he felt that this blow could split his skull wide open.
Thoughts vanished. All that remained was the body, guided by pure, primal instinct hammered into him over decades of training. His spine arched, muscles exploding with energy. He didn't just move his head to the side—he threw his entire body back and sideways, pouring all his speed, his entire life, into that movement.
The palm passed a millimeter from his temple. He didn't feel the impact, but he felt the stream of air she tore up slice across his cheek like a razor blade. A thin red line instantly appeared on his skin.
Mama Mia froze, her hand suspended in the air. Genuine surprise flickered across her face. She hadn't expected the boy to dodge. Even though she hadn't put her full strength into the blow, her anger had made her serious, and her speed was far beyond that of a normal human.
Rain, meanwhile, stood doubled over, hands bracing his knees. His chest heaved convulsively, gasping for air, his heart pounding somewhere in his throat. He raised his head, and everyone watching held their breath. The youth's face was deathly pale and covered in sweat, but his eyes were the most terrifying part. The amber irises seemed to burn against the backdrop of reddened whites—the tiniest capillaries had failed to withstand the extreme, explosive strain and had burst.
"W-what was that?... Rain, are you okay?" stammered Bell, jumping up from his seat. He had seen only a blur of motion and his friend nearly losing his head.
Rain didn't answer him. He took a deep, trembling breath, drew himself up to his full height, and, meeting the astonished dwarf woman's gaze, bowed low.
"I offer my deepest apologies," his voice was hoarse but firm, devoid of any irony. "My tongue proved faster than my mind. It will not happen again."
Silence hung over the tavern. No one expected this turn. First a cheeky joke, then an incredible dodge, and now—a complete and unconditional apology. Mama Mia looked at him silently for a few seconds, her anger slowly giving way to something resembling respect.
"You've got good instincts, puppy," she finally rumbled, lowering her hand. "And a sharp tongue, too. Fine, let's drop it. But you're still eating that food."
Time passed, and the tavern gradually filled with the hum of voices. Adventurers returning from the Dungeon, tired and hungry, took up tables, and soon the Hostess of Fertility was packed. Rain and Bell, having finished their "penalty" dinner, moved to the bar so as not to occupy a table.
Bell tiredly poked at the remains of a pie on his plate with a fork. The day had been so eventful that he had no strength left even for emotions. He felt like a squeezed lemon. Syr sat down on a high stool next to him, placing a glass of milk in front of him.
"It's on me," she smiled softly. "You need to regain your strength."
"Thank you, Syr, you are very kind," Bell smiled gratefully in return. He was too exhausted to notice the peculiar glint in her ashen eyes or the way she casually brushed his hand as she passed the glass. To him, it was merely a show of friendliness and care. "It's just… everything is so sudden. We only arrived in Orario this morning, registered at the Guild, and here we are."
He sighed heavily and glanced to his right, where his friend was chatting animatedly with Mama Mia. It seemed the recent incident was not only resolved but had served as the start of a strange friendship. The tavern hostess laughed loudly at Rain's jokes every now and then, slapping him on the shoulder with such force that Bell flinched every time.
"We still needed to find an inn," he continued, speaking more to himself than to Syr, "but now it's probably too late. Everywhere is full."
He yawned and dropped his head onto his arms crossed on the counter, nearly falling asleep right there. Syr looked thoughtfully at him, then at his friend, deciding something for herself.
"I need to take an order," she said quietly and, slipping lightly off the stool, disappeared into the crowd.
Bell didn't even notice her leave, slowly drifting into a doze.
The scene shifted to Rain. After the apology, the ice between him and the hostess had broken. Appreciating his character and boldness, she had switched from anger to mercy, and they had unexpectedly found common ground. Rain, with his past life experience, knew how to approach people of any age or station. He told her amusing, albeit fictional, stories from their "village" life, asked about tavern business and famous adventurers, and Mama Mia, who had a soft spot for good conversationalists, answered him with unexpected candor.
At one point, Anya popped out of the kitchen, whispered something quickly in the hostess's ear, and nodded toward Bell. Mama Mia grunted and, once the waitress had run off, turned to Rain.
"Hey, kid, I hear you have nowhere to sleep?"
"That's about the size of it," Rain didn't deny. "Thought we'd manage during the day, but misjudged the time."
"You can stay here for the night," she offered matter-of-factly. "There's a spare staff room on the second floor. It's sitting empty anyway. Consider it compensation for my... excessive zeal. Besides, you dropped a lot of coin here, and it looks like you'll be coming back."
She looked meaningfully at the nodding Bell, approached again by Syr, now holding a warm blanket. Rain followed her gaze and smirked.
"Looks like it. Thank you very much, Mama Mia."
Later, when the noise in the tavern reached its peak, the hostess led them up the creaky stairs to the second floor. The room turned out to be small but clean and cozy, with a single bed and a small sofa by the window.
Rain settled on the sofa without a word, though it was a bit short for him, while Bell collapsed onto the bed without undressing and instantly passed out. Rain lay with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. He didn't want to sleep.
The kaleidoscope of the day's events rushed through his mind. The grand, bustling city that had met them with noise and indifference. The majestic Guild, where they, two village boys, had been washed over by a wave of others' ambitions. And, of course, the tavern. A place where, in a few hours, he had experienced more than in the last year in the forest. The girls' overt curiosity, the unexpected kindness, and the terror.
The sensation when Mama Mia moved against him still echoed with a chill in every cell. It wasn't just a clash with a strong opponent. It was a demonstration of the chasm between worlds—his world of honed human technique, and theirs, a world where gods granted mortals a fraction of their power. In that moment, he wasn't a wise warrior in a youth's body, but simply a puppy, just as she had called him. And that was more sobering than ice water.
Quiet, rhythmic snoring came from the bed. That trusting, peaceful sound became an anchor in the storm of his thoughts.
The weight of the lived day finally crashed down on him, too. Analysis gave way to physical and mental fatigue. Lulled by his friend's breathing, Rain closed his eyes, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The first thing Bell felt was a persistent strip of warm light tickling his eyelids. He grimaced in annoyance, trying to bury his face deeper into the pillow, but the morning sun of Orario was relentless. The sleepy haze slowly dissipated, giving way to realization. He wasn't in the forest, not at home. He was in the city. In a tavern.
"Rain?.." he mumbled sleepily, not yet opening his eyes. "What time is it?"
No answer followed. Bell frowned and forced his eyelids open. The room, flooded with bright light, was empty. The sofa where his friend had settled yesterday was neatly made up. For a moment, a slight anxiety gripped him, but it settled immediately. Rain wasn't the type to vanish without warning.
Shaking off the remnants of sleep, Bell dressed and, trying not to make noise, left the room. The second floor was quiet, but muffled sounds were already drifting up from below. He went down the stairs and froze on the last step.
The tavern hall, noisy and full of life yesterday, was now empty and silent. Chairs were overturned and stacked on tables, and the floors, sticky with spilled ale yesterday, shone with cleanliness. And behind the bar, methodically wiping a polished glass with a rag, stood Rain. He was wearing a simple apron, clearly borrowed from the staff.
Noticing Bell, he looked up from his task and nodded in greeting.
"Good morning. Have a seat, I'll be right there."
With those words, he disappeared into the opening leading to the kitchen. Bell obediently sat on a high stool by the counter. The morning silence of the tavern was soothing. He looked around, inhaling the scent of damp wood and yesterday's baking. The fog in his head finally cleared, replaced by a hungry rumble in his stomach and anticipation of the new day.
A couple of minutes later Rain returned, carrying a tray. A plate with a fluffy omelet, a slice of toasted bread, and a glass of milk landed on the counter before Bell.
"Bon appétit."
Bell immediately attacked the food. The first bite of omelet, tender and hot, seemed like the tastiest thing in the world.
"Wow... You cooked this yourself?" he asked with his mouth full.
"Who else?" Rain chuckled, returning to polishing glasses. "You were lamenting yesterday that we had almost no money left. So, I decided to save us some coin on breakfast."
"But... how?" Bell looked at him in surprise, then at the empty hall. "What are you even doing here?"
"Made a deal with the hostess," Rain answered simply, placing another glass on the shelf. "I offered to clean up the hall after yesterday's bedlam and cook our breakfast in her kitchen. In exchange, she let me use the ingredients. You should have seen what was going on here this morning. Looks like yesterday's party was a success."
He paused, his amber eyes glinting slyly.
"Besides, it's useful. Mama Mia is an influential figure in this district. Being in her good graces when you're a rookie without a penny to your name isn't a luxury, it's a necessity. We are guests here, Bell. And good guests always help with the cleanup."
Bell nodded silently, finishing his breakfast. Rain's logic, as always, was flawless. Finishing his food, he stood up resolutely.
"I'll help."
They worked quickly and efficiently. Rain finished with the bar, while Bell tackled the tables and chairs. They were putting the furniture back in place when the front door creaked open and Mama Mia appeared on the threshold. She measured their work with a critical eye, grunted, and something resembling approval flickered at the corner of her lips.
"Not bad for rookies. Washed the floors too?"
"To a shine," Rain confirmed.
Soon the other workers began to trickle in. Syr arrived first, her face lighting up with a warm smile when she saw Bell. Then the restless Anya fluttered in, followed by other girls whose names they didn't know yet. The tavern came alive, filling with morning bustle and preparation for opening.
"We need to get going," Rain said, taking off his apron. "We still have things to do before the meeting at the Guild."
They said goodbye to the girls, receiving an admonition from Syr to be careful, and from Anya—a promise to wait for them for dinner. Mama Mia, before they left, shoved a small bundle into Rain's hand.
"Here. Yesterday's pies. Shouldn't let good food go to waste."
Thanking her, they walked out into the street, already flooded with sunlight and full of people.
"First—lodging," Rain set their course. "The hostess recommended an inn nearby, 'Under the Hound and Hammer.' Says it's inexpensive and the owner is a decent dwarf."
The inn turned out to be exactly as described—a clean, solid establishment. The stocky, bearded dwarf behind the counter eyed them for a long time, but the mention of Mia's name immediately made him more amenable. They rented a small room for three days in advance without issue, leaving nearly half of their remaining money as a deposit.
Leaving their belongings in their new temporary abode, they finally headed toward the familiar majestic building with columns. Their first real day in Orario was beginning. Ahead of them awaited Eina Tulle and the first lesson on how to survive in this city.