“So you are basically merchants?” I ask my parents at the sight of the ridiculous sign on the ground floor of the Merchants' Emporium.

Enterprise of Adventuring Activity

There are some awkward glances traded between my parents about how theyshould explain this to me.

“It’s mostly located here to sell any materials or other request-related items much easier.” Dad answers, pointing out the obvious. “Adventurers don't really belong in any category. The plethora of jobs people are willing to take is just too wide to determine whether we are fighters or even grave robbers or sewer cleaners and so on.”

“You desecrate graves?” I look at both my parents, flabbergasted.

“No no no, not us and not like that.” They shake their heads and Mom explains. “The vaults of some prominent figures throughout history can contain riches and secrets that are far more valuable to the living than their dead makers. Priceless artifacts of legendary artisans, riches of tyrannical rules, or tomes of long-vanished mages who dedicated the rest of their life to their craft.” She explains with growing excitement.

Still sounds like grave robbing to me. Well, you aren’t basically stealing from a person so it's more like finding a coin on the streets. Okay, no it’s still somewhat stealing…

“And what are we here for?” I avoid further escalation of that conversation.

Despite Mom working as an adventurer for most of my life I never once visited… her workplace? The guild? What is this building really? A shop where you inquire what’s in demand and provide exactly that… Eh, not that the definition matters.

“To look for areas with some extermination needed.” Mom grins. “Somewhere mildly dangerous. You two can still easily become a meal to almost anything and even your father and I are no different.” She points at Dad and herself. “The wilds are unpredictable and we have our limits to pulling you out of danger.”

Ouch. So even though this whole vacation is about us learning a little more about how the outside world works and how to camp and travel properly we’re still somewhat of a deadweight. I mean, we can defend ourselves, we’ve survived out there for weeks and that has to amount to something.

“The pay will be miniscule but stuffing our pockets was never the goal to begin with.” Dad adds and ushers us inside.

The interior is nothing like I imagined. No rough-looking dudes or the smell of sweat mixed with blood and booze. The entire place looks more like a massive warehouse with counters separating the staff and people looking for some money to earn. The adventurers gather before the mammoth-sized bulletin boards plastered with notices, discussing the advantages and difficulties of certain offers.

All in all, everything is a lot less… wild and free than I imagined. This looks like a respectable business and not rowdy freelancers fighting for the best deal to make a living.

“Wipe the surprised look off your face,” Mom takes the lead. “it makes you look like an unprofessional rookie.” Maybe because I am? Not to mention I’m clearly the youngest in the entire building, bar Valka.

I try to put some swagger into my steps to mask my nervousness and rely on that certain aura of confidence we got used to while terrorizing the streets. Even without looking, I can feel a good number of eyes fall on us and linger a little longer than I’d like but that only confirms what Mom said. Val and I are what they like to call fresh meat.

We waddle through the crowd and approach the board to scout for a job suitable for our skills and by just reading a few I begin to understand why adventurers don’t exactly belong in any category.

Myuron Bison Hide, Drug Testing, Ape Tooth Berries, Spider Infested Catacomb…

“Look for anything that’s about murdering hordes of critters or a few slightly dangerous beasts.” Dad narrows down our search.

“Bandits?” Valka suggests.

“No!” Mom shot her down instantly. I’m also not too keen on hunting humans.

“But just humans-”

“I said no!” Mom holds her ground. “You’re not ready.”

I shake my head for Val to see. It’s not an argument she could ever win so she better give up.

Goblin Raids. I’d rather not. They are the embodiment of ‘disgusting’ and the noises they make when dying… Bleh.

Sewer Slimes. Val would be helpless against them or the stench down there.

Mutated Rabbits and Irregular Creatures.

Huh?

“Dad.” I nudge poke him in the side and point at the contract that caught my eye.

I don’t have anything against rabbits. Quite the contrary, I like the little furry fuckers with the fluffy fur and cute twitching noses. I like cute noises and I like them both cooked and roasted.

Dad’s eyes rest on the piece of paper for a second then he politely pushes his way through the crowd and snatches the pamphlet off the board.

“I don’t like it.” Mom declares after reading through the offer.

The contents are in short: A caravan got attacked by rabbits with gangly bodies and erratic behavior. They caught sight of other unsightly creatures and heard disturbing howls echoing from a nearby forest. Quantity: substantial, Danger: minimal, Reward: minimal.

Okay, not the words written on the paper but that’s how Dad summed it all up for us in short. It’s a little pathetic but the main goal of our short adventuring career before autumn is to learn about this entire system with all its intricacies. The reward and difficulty are abysmal but I somewhat like it that way.

“The description is too vague.” Mom explains, and at the same time explains nothing.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“At least it's close.” I observe.

“All of them are. Anything more than six days’ walk gets posted in a different city depending on the content. Tasks too difficult or on a different scale are of course exceptions.” Mom adds, clearly aimed at educating the younger generation.

“Dear, would you rather spend another ten minutes in this crowd to maybe find something slightly more appealing? We can also go after wild oxbears for all I care or even better, I saw an offer to hunt goliath bats. Fancy any of those?” Dad counters.

A healthy argument is always the best solution, or at least that’s how it goes in my family. And even now, despite the mood I know damn well my parents love each other… It’s reassuring.

***

They argued. A lot.

Mom remained adamant and refused to accept a job with a description that ambiguous. No clear details about the targets’ level or species, their location and number… not to mention their description was also closer to how children explain what they’ve seen under their bed.

Dad tried to stay calm and explained that if we were faced with anything twice my level we could just leave. There was literally nothing forcing us to see through the request to the end. Even better, the meadow described in the contract was only a day or two away by foot in the first place so even if it's a bust we lose out on minimal time.

Things got heated really fast so Val and I just sided with Dad to end the debate. Partly because the argument drew way too much attention and also because we didn’t want to listen to the whole thing every time a pamphlet caught someone’s eye. We packed within the hour and left to avoid talking about the whole topic again, as responsible adults should.

It’s been half a day since then and currently, we’re on route dead east. Neither side of the married couple holds any grudges but there’s still a spark of conflict in the air. It’s so typical.

“Are you starting to regret following me?” I ask Val as it has been about three months since she got freed from slavery.

She peeks behind us, at the adults, and sighs. “Could be worse. If not for Bennett then I would’ve preferred the Elder Line back in Turan to help me grow stronger. The last few months would’ve been a waste if not for him.” Then her eyes settle on me again with a judgmental gleam. “Not like I had much of a choice with you clinging to me like that you know, I too have a heart.” She blushes while lying through her teeth but I’d still love to hit her now. “Anyway, just worry about yourself! Pick a second Class already and make our next duel less onesided.”

Oh, you can be sure of that. Ever since she beat me by a hair’s breadth her bossy personality surfaced. The same argument is brought out every time she tries to prove a point. So yeah, I’ll be sure to rack up some levels.

With that said I definitely should stop dilly-dallying and wasting an entire Class slot. That is if I knew what to do with it.

“So are we stopping in a town nearby or just gonna sleep under the open sky,” I ask, silently praying for option one,

It was a bit before noon when we last left a settlement behind and have been on the move for most of the day. Considering this job isn’t just about taking a quick look and then walking back, we need to find a place for more than a single night.

“Well, the location is vague so we’ll definitely have to set up camp.” Dad speaks up first, earning a huff from Mom.

“Yeah, sure. We have no idea what’s lurking out there, besides some rabbits, and you want to sleep out in the wild?” She chuckles, her voice laced with sarcasm.

I feel another argument brewing and decide to intervene before things become too heated. “If we find a village or something before sunset then we stay there, otherwise just keep looking and sleep wherever. Deal?” I propose to the surprise of everyone.

One nod, two, and reluctantly the third.

***

It was a dumb idea. I kinda forgot how empty the lands can be between even towns, not to mention proper cities, so… it's gonna be another uncomfortable night in a bedroll.

It’s not the worst, it really isn’t but when the idea or rather the hopes of something better is floating this close to someone’s mind the situation does feel a little grating. All of us have had our fair share of wilderness survival meaning this little trip should be a walk in the park however it feels anything but.

“Elyssia, light the fire!” Orders mom, using my full name to express her dissatisfaction.

“The idea might’ve been mine but everyone agreed so stop putting all the blame on me.” I mutter but still obey all the same

Dinner is some kind of meat jerky with chewy bread and water… Yeah, this firmly reminds me why I decided against the calling of becoming an adventurer. Traveling and seeing the world is nice and all but I was born in the city and don’t feel like leaving its comfort more than necessary.

I’m just about to stuff myself into the warm embrace of my bed when Mom grabs my ear. “Not so fast young lady, you take the first nightwatch with your father!” She pulls me back.

“Why me?” I protest and try to gain back control over my ear.

Damn long ears provide a perfect grip.

“Because the second shift is worse and the less Endurance one has, the harder it is to deal with exhaustion.” She finally unhands me. “Both you and your father have the Endurance of a sheet of paper.”

That might be a bit of an exaggeration, I survived quite a few injuries in the past year. And her argument kinda defeats itself. We’ve been active all day and I’m already tired as hell. Expecting me to stay awake for a few more hours, boring ones to top it off…

“Dad?” I look for a bailout.

“Just try staying awake Eli. It’s part of your training and a lot more boring by myself.” He smirks at me and sits down on a rock near the edge of the dancing light of our little campfire.

Mom, still grumpy, just hauls her bedding closer to the gentle flames and lies down without even saying good night. Every time things don’t go her way, every damn time… Valka smirks at me mockingly before nesting closer to the warmth of the fire herself.

“Fuck.” I mutter and sit down next to Dad. It was a lot better when it was just Val and me.

***

“Did you know we’re part plants?” Dad asks out of nowhere after an untold time of sitting and chit-chatting.

“I don’t feel like growing roots or something.” I reply, followed by an enormous yawn.

“I meant that all elves are children of the World Tree and her alone.” He leans onto my head, using it as a pillow. I need to use whatever strength my exhausted body might have in secret reserves to keep ourselves from falling over. “My parents told me that once in a while, when Wyrel is in the mood, massive fruits grow on her branches. Fruits that upon ripening become elves. High elves to be precise.”

“What’s the difference, if there’s any?” I ask. An elf is an elf.

“Oh, they are very much like us, except for a few minor details.” Dad plays with my hair while basically telling me a bedtime story. “For one, they are immortal living within the bounds of the Verdant Forest.” He says casually. They what? “And also genderless.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” I push him off as my eyes pop open. “What do you mean immortal?”

He chuckles and waves for me to get back to my spot so he can get my head back as a pillow. “The mana there in the forest is so thick, so incredibly rich, that it keeps them alive forever. Like plants growing endlessly. Although I don’t mean immortal like they can’t be killed, they can with great difficulty, but what I mean is that they don’t age.”

“So then where do basic elves come from?” I ask, thirsting for more stories.

“Don’t call me basic.” Dad taps on my head. “When a High Elf leaves Sarava, our homeland, and the Verdant Forest their bodies get deprived of the vitalizing mana and go through some changes. Some turn into men, others into women, depending on the fire-to-water mana ration in the air. Then there are the different subspecies, some living in the Sarahal Desert, others up north in Koleth, or even the dark crevices in the depths of the Elder Forest, we are very diverse.” He finishes puffing his chest proudly.

“And what type of ‘very diverse’ are you?” I ask, looking for a specific answer.

“I am…”

“Basic.” I answer with a fiendish grin.

“Then so, are, you!” And he attacks my poor birdnest of a hair again.

I’m the furthest one can be from basic. For all I know I’m one of a kind. The least basic.

“Wait.” I freeze. “Does that mean that some super powerful tree is my really great grandmother?” My fingers unconsciously run across the surface of the bracelet I received on my ninth birthday.

Dad looks at me like the dumbest sentence just left my mouth before we start giggling, just quietly so as not to wake up the sleeping dragon. I tickle him a little to see how long he can hold it back when out of nowhere he shoots up and his body tenses.

He holds a finger to my lips and all the goofiness leaves the both of us in a matter of seconds. “Wake the others up!” He whispers. “We got company.”