“Maaan it’s hot out,” Corrin complained, pouring some of the leftover water from his flask over his head.
“Yeah, no kidding,” Wyn said, “And it’s not even summer yet, imagine how hot it’s going to be in a month.”
“Don't remind me... Ugh, it was nice and cool in the cave too, maybe I’ll go back.”
Despite Corrin’s praying every night for the nice cool air of spring to remain longer, it seemed they were in for an early and hot summer. Damn spirits must hate him.
“I’ll be sure to let the spirits know they should push it back next year.”
“Please do, I miss winter already.”
Wyn's face crinkled in disgust, “Never say that again, you must’ve hit your head clearing earlier. Want to get some food? My mother's busy tonight and I don’t feel like cooking.”
Corrin chuckled awkwardly, “You paying?”
“What do you mean? We just got our stipend not two weeks ago, you should have plenty of money,” Wyn said.
“Well, see… I kind of maybe blew it all.”
“Already?” Wyn exclaimed, “Is that why you keep saying I should treat you when you win duels? What did you even spend it on?”
Corrin held up his beautiful new sword, “Did you think this thing was cheap? Plus, I bought a nice new set of robes, which burnt through the rest of our first one. Then I tried a bunch of restaurants, oh and I reserved the next lightstone that comes into town.”
Wyn put his face in his hands, “I’m best friends with an idiot… Fine, I’ll pay, but you’re paying me back as soon as we get our next stipend.”
“Thanks man, you’re the best!”
“I hate you.”
“Want to hit the lake afterwards? Might be a nice way to cool down.”
“Ah, sorry,” Wyn grimaced, “I already made plans with some other people, I’m sure there’ll be plenty of other days like this one though.”
“No worries, I’ll take my siblings or something,” Corrin said.
Chatting idly the whole way, the two boys walked back to town, the sun beating down on them at every step, and Corrin lamented what would surely be a boring, sweltering summer.
***
Wake up, go back to sleep, wake up, try to go back to sleep.
You’re going to be late. Corrin could practically hear Wyn chastising him.
Corrin rolled out of his rock-solid bed, landing on the wooden floor with a dull thud as his day began.
Half asleep, he managed to throw on his cloak, grab his leather armor–he’d have to put it on later–and sheath his sword around his waist before stumbling into the hallway, barely managing to avoid waking his siblings sleeping in the main bedroom.
He stumbled into the kitchen where Fenfreth was making breakfast. It was one of the larger rooms in the orphanage, with brick floors and walls. The slanted roof allowed for a skylight to be put in and fill it with plenty of natural light in the morning. Most of the kids ended up eating around the same time when Fenfreth woke them up for chores and school, which necessitated a large wooden table in the middle of the room. Since he was up early though, Corrin sat alone in the seat closest to the cooking pot, appreciating the comforting aroma of breakfast cooking.
“Running late again, are we?” The older man teased, already scooping up some food for him: scrambled eggs and porridge. It was simple, but cheap, and Fenfreth could make a lot of it easily to feed so many hungry mouths.
Corrin sat down and began to devour the meal, faintly enjoying the cinnamon Fenfreth had been adding recently. Apparently, he’d positively scammed a merchant out of several pounds of it, and it did wonders for the morning porridge. “I’m too tired for your crap right now.”
“Where does all that food go?” Fenfreth wondered aloud, “I know boys your age need to eat, but you do take it to a bit of an extreme.”
Corrin downed a glass of water as Fenfreth exchanged one plate for another, and then continued to eat.
“Have you thought any more about your living situation?” Fenfreth asked.
“Are you trying to kick me out?” Corrin replied through a mouthful of food.
“Not at all, the others love you, and despite the amount of food you eat, it’s not that bad in the grand scheme of things so long as you keep helping around the church. I just want to make sure you’re thinking about the future.”
Corrin set down his fork, “The future huh?”
“You used to talk so much about it: your plans, your dreams, all the things you wanted to do, the places you wanted to see. I just want to make sure you’re doing what you want to be doing, and you’re right where you want to be.”
“It’s easy when you’ve got nothing to lose," Corrin mumbled under his breath, "It’s a lot harder once you do.”
Fenfreth placed a hand on his shoulder, “If you’re happy, that’s all I can ask for. But I want you to think long and hard about what it is you really want out of life. Oh well, you’ll figure it out, I’m sure. Just know, whatever you do, I’ll support you one hundred percent.”
Corrin finished his food in silence, staring at the empty bowl. What did he really want out of life? Were these days at the dungeon, these days in Straetum really what he wanted? He shook his head; he wasn’t going to make it if he spent all this time thinking. He stood up and headed towards the door.
“Thanks gramps,” He said, “Now, I have to get going or I’m going to be late.”
“Are you planning on winning today?” Fenfreth asked.
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Corrin flashed a thumbs up, “Always.”
***
The lazy days continued. Corrin would wake up around sunrise, go clear the dungeon, spar with Wyn, and then spend the rest of the day doing whatever mundane things came up. Life was, as always, comfortable; many would kill for the life he had and the freedom it granted, but somewhere within Corrin, a part of him was dying, almost unnoticed as it withered like a tree in the winter, slowly but surely being beaten out of him by his new routine.
Months of this daily pattern had passed quickly, even as the days seemed to last forever. And before Corrin knew it, summer was well and truly upon them. Just as every year, the coming of summer would be celebrated with a large festival, and most of the town would be taking the day off, even Corrin and Wyn. It was one of the four days a year they would get to themselves. Those days were solstices, like the summer solstice the next day, and the equinoxes, on which for some reason, the dungeon became inert and wouldn’t spawn any new monsters.
There were precautions of course, protocols in case they both became injured or sick, and there were backup guardians trained, though not as extensively, from the pool of town guards. In the worst case, the entrance to the dungeon could be caved in, which would last for a while until the tomb repaired the damage on its own. The latter option was considered a last resort however, as excessive damage to a dungeon almost always resulted in disasters, triggering several defense mechanisms the extent of which weren’t fully understood. Sometimes it would make the monsters within stronger, and in worse cases it could even cause a dungeon flood, an event in which monsters began leaving the tomb in droves. As such, tomb guards were expected to do their jobs every day, without fail. These few days they got each year were blessings.
Due to this, the two were somewhat unfocused, spending their time in the dungeon discussing the next day’s plans and looking forward to the festival ahead. Even still, they dispatched zombies and goblins with practiced ease, and quickly met their harvest quota. It was an easy job, and they were far stronger than anything on the first floor by now. This time at least, passed rather fast as they bantered back and forth, occasionally interrupted by a monster.
“You’re going to dance.” Wyn smirked, his pack filled to the brim with magic stones and monster parts.
“I’m not dancing,” Corrin maintained, chuckling a little, “It’s just not happening.”
“It’s a festival Corrin, everybody’s going to be dancing… don’t you want to invite Khaeli?” He waggled his eyebrows for effect as he mentioned Corrin’s crush.
Corrin, of course, smacked him on the back of the head, but it didn’t stop the snickering.
“I’ll ask her when I’m good and ready… do you think she’d really want to dance?”
“See? You’re totally dancing.”
“I’m not dancing,” Corrin shot back, but even to himself, he sounded less confident.
“Yeah yeah. Well, I think we’re about done here. Let’s get out of here. One day left then it’s time to party.”
“Praise the spirits!” Corrin pumped a fist in the air. “No work tomorrow! You know, we’re getting pretty fast at this. Without the long lunch break we could probably set a new record.”
“I bet we could get it down even more if we split up a little, stay in earshot but clear out areas separately.” Wyn thought out loud as they walked to the entrance.
“Maybe…” Corrin considered the idea; it wasn’t a bad one. Might spice up their time in the dungeon too, add a little edge. “Ok but seriously though, do you think Khaeli’s going to be dancing?”
Wyn broke down laughing, “There’s no way you’re that worried about it.” He clapped Corrin’s back. “C’mon man, let’s get back. I’m tired and hungry, even if we’re not working tomorrow, we’ve still got the tournament.”
Corrin smiled.
They got out of the cave while the sun was still high in the sky, breaking into a fast walk towards the village. The walk broke into a light jog, and after a moment, they were running, each noticed the other and sped up even further, without a word it had turned to a race. The stone-laden packs were like weights holding them to the ground, but the two of them had long surpassed ordinary men. They practically sprinted across the countryside as they pushed each other to the limit, the village growing nearer and nearer.
Panting and wheezing, they collapsed at the drop-off point, letting their bags down in the wagon where they left them each day to be collected and sorted.
“I– totally– won that,” Corrin choked out.
“Not– a– chance,” Wyn forced a pained smile. “I was at least three steps ahead…”
“How about the river today instead of the baths? I feel gross.”
“Good idea, hot water sounds terrible right now,” Wyn agreed.
***
Wyn was always in a good mood right after a bath, and the soak in the cool water of the river had hit the spot. He had a few errands left on his plate for the day, so it was a good thing too. First was helping old man Otto repair his cart. His farmstead was one of the closer ones to town, so it was hardly even out of Wyn’s way to walk the dirt path out to his barn. The short, greying man noticed him approach and waved, his wrinkled face stretching into a grin. The whole house had begun falling apart, old and rotted wood marring what had once been a pristinely maintained building.
“Wyn my boy! I appreciate this help, I’m afraid my back just isn’t what it used to be.”
Wyn smiled back and approached, bending down to look at the cart, “Oh wow yeah, look at the spokes on that thing. A rock really did this?”
“I’m just as shocked,” Otto said.
“On that last note,” Wyn said as he started working to replace the old wheel with a new one, “Have you considered retiring? I don’t know how much longer your body can handle this kind of work. And I’m sure you have enough money to live comfortably.”
Otto laughed, “Wyn I haven’t made money from this in years. I just can’t harvest enough anymore, you’re right, I am too old.”
“Then why—”
“What else is there to do? I could enjoy time with the missus, sure. But I see her plenty as is, and I don’t have anybody to take over after I’m gone. If it comes to sitting around and doing nothing all day, I’d rather just tend to the fields, you might not think so, but it’s what keeps me young. When you get to my age, you have to keep working, or at least keep doing something. Otherwise, you end up an old man.”
Wyn glanced at Otto’s bald head and scruffy white beard incredulously, but he must not have disguised it as well as he thought, because the older man smacked him on the head.
“I saw that look!”
“Alright alright,” Wyn chuckled, “You caught me, but it is a pretty funny thing to say.”
“You worry about yourself young man. I long ago figured myself out. Someday I’m going to die out in those fields, and when that day comes, I’m going to die happy. I’ve got no regrets left. So, try not to think too hard about it.”
Wyn finished replacing the wheel. “If you say so. Until then though, just let me know if you need any help around here. I’m always happy to.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to pay you?”
“I make plenty already,” Wyn waved him off, “Consider the conversation your payment. I have to get going, you have a great day Elder Otto.”
“Thank you Wyn. Stop by during the festival and I’ll give you a bag of grain, on the house.”
“I’m sure my mother will be happy to hear it.”
Wyn walked back to town and on to other tasks. He helped Eldress Selene carry water from the river, he gave a few pointers to some of the newer guards, and even helped a girl find her lost cat. Though it was probably different for Corrin, being able to help people was the original reason Wyn had wanted to be a— well, it made him happy. Seeing the smiles on people’s faces after helping them made almost any work worth it. By the time he was satisfied, the sun had set, so he made his way back home.
He opened the door to a figure crashing into him. He let himself be pushed back as his younger brother Elry gave him a hug. Wyn hugged him back before ruffling his hair, the same black as his own. “Hey bro, how was school?”
Elry shrugged, “It was fine, I guess. I’m still not great at math though. But besides that, can you give me some pointers to fight? I want to start learning so I can win the tournament when I’m old enough to sign up! There’s only two years left, and you promised!”
“Winning in your first year is pretty hard...”
“You did it didn’t you? Mom was just telling me all about it! That’s so awesome! If you teach me, I can win too!”
Wyn sighed, “Well, yeah, I guess I did… Fine, I’ll give you some lessons the day after tomorrow. Tomorrow is the festival, so it’ll have to wait until after.”
Elry pumped his fist, “Yes! That’s a promise! You can’t back out on it.”
“I won’t,” Wyn laughed, “But I’m not just talking about sword lessons.”
Amid his celebration, Elry froze. “What do you mean?”
"You said you need to work on math, right? We’ll do some extra practice for that as well. Body and mind little brother. Body and mind.” Wyn grinned.