Allan, with his new rewards in his hand, felt an adequate mood. With the majority of the day still before him, he decided to make a small celebration and get to eat out. That was a rare occurrence for him, as his father rarely had money to spare, and he, himself, was stingy with his hard-earned money.

Not to say that his father was greedy, per se, because he invested most of his revenue in his shop. It was a never-ending cycle of profits, buying, trading, and spending. Even the basic trade routes and mines in surrounding cities and villages had some materials that weren't generally used by the public. Some money, connection, and effort with them had to be maintained.

Since Allan’s good behavior and hard work, he was quite pleased with how the shop was going. Zigmund decided 2 years ago to give Allan a fixed salary for helping him out. On top of that, he was getting a major cut in his sales of knives and repairs. Last year, he finally gets his father's permission to make more gold by himself with that. That even includes recent swords and smaller blades with repairs, which he had to find and manage himself.

His work paid off, so he had some savings, but not enough for some huge purchases. It was enough for practicing his blacksmithing and a visit to the library. During his visits to them, he loved them from time to time. It was something that he loved to do every week if the forge didn't have too much work.

“What a good day today,” Allan hummed a song of happiness, walking towards the street after closing the shop. He stored his new book away, getting some coins instead. “It is the 40th day of spring. That is about expected, but I wonder what will Autumn be like, or even Winter this year.” He wondered, watching the sun still crawling in the sky.

The City of Waan is the name of Allan's home for quite some time. It's named after the second ruler of the kingdom, which rules this land. About 20 kilometers south of the shores of the Windy Sea, It is one of many major trading cities in the kingdom of Grusha. Many roads connected many cities through many roads. Nor big nor small, it had about a few dozen thousand permanent citizens. A warm environment almost all year round was part of its appeal, as this isn't a far north place in the continent. Still, it doesn't mean winters are that great. Apart from the winter, it is a very popular city.

A pub on a side of side street named Lonely Tiger is Allan's expectant visit. Walking through the wooden door, he was greeted by the familiar warmth and smell of this place. It was both a bar, restaurant and a king of places where all kinds of folks gathered. In truth, it was one of the better pubs in this part of the city. Especially the big bar at the very front of the entrance that almost welcomed any incoming guest. There were seating areas at the front and around the well-decorated walls. A rather good-looking restaurant area was further back, for up to a hundred people's worth of sitting spaces.

It's the working place of one of his better contractors. The kind he found at random, with occasional trades and businesses between them. Some knives and repairs for the kitchen were prime examples. Right now, it was about the end of lunchtime, so many customers and families were still gathering there. Few made weird looks as he walked towards the bar as if they wouldn't expect a kid to go there. It was not up to their taste, but not like Allan cared about whether they liked it or not. It was not too shabby of a place, but there were better places in the central district.

Taking a seat in a rather high chair, he greeted a familiar person beyond the bar. “Good day to you, mister Thomas.” He sat there alone for now since it wasn't nighttime when was the best time to sell some alcohol.

The older gentleman looked at him with a questionable gaze but chuckled, as he knew him quite well. “What are you doing here, brat? Job? I don't sell alcohol to kids.” Thomas, who was wiping glasses clean behind the bar, asked in a mocking tone. He was an older gentleman with a neat black shirt, vest, a long beard, and a slightly winked face. It was clear that he knew Allen for a long time.

“I have some time off and decided to eat out. Is buffet fine to reserve?” He asked, not helping to glance at the restaurant in the back.

“Main chef is here so he won't allow it. It isn't the 7th day yet for the buffet to open up.” Thomas explained.

Grunting in displeasure, Allan rather asked a more intricate question. “Is Berg here?” He wanted to make his time worth the effort, and he was about everything that can accomplish that.

“Yes. He is here, but you can wait for about 30 minutes and the main chef will leave. It's about that time, after all.” Thomas answered as if he knew Allan’s intention.

“That long?” he said, “I should have brought some book. No. That would be unnecessary. I will make some deals with employees and get some contracts instead. That sounds like a plan,” Allan decided for himself, leaving Thomas's accompany and walking towards the kitchen, where he found the particular doo.

Knocking for some time, the door opened and a man around 18 years of age in a white apron appeared. Surprised to see the kid before him, he asked in some surprise, while glancing behind his back too.

“Allan? What are you doing here? The head chef is here, so wait a bit.”

“I know. Thomas told me, but let's not worry about that business. Can you ask around for some deals for me? I came for the buffet, but it seems I will have to wait for that.” Allan said, tossing him 2 silver coins worth 10 silver each.

As he did so, behind Berg, a man with a white hat on his head saw what was happening. Not that clearly, for him to notice the coins which ended in Berg's pocket.

“Hey! Berg, who is it?” he shouted in a tone that perhaps sounded angry all the time no matter his emotions.

“Oh, head chef.” Berg scratched his head, wanting to figure out how to solve this issue. Shit. “It is a friend of mine. It's for some business.” He found the excuse while knowing the chef before him quite well. Known in this kitchen as Hell's chef, no one wanted to piss him off, because he was quite closely relegated to the owner of this place.

“Get back to work. Whatever this is, will wait later.” He shooed Berg away, and while he was at it, “Get lost brat!” he barked at Allan.

“Alright. Alright. No need to get angry.” Allan backed off, as he has done what he wanted.

Sometime later, as the head chef was gone from today's prime day shift, Berg took Allan into the main kitchen. This was one of the well-known places, which consisted of quite a fest. Plates of meat and a grill with some charcoal were just the beginning. Plates of thinly cut pieces of fat-marbled meat, a chunk of pig leg, freshly baked bread, and some seafood on the side were the main course.

“Have a seat,” Berg instructed, taking a seat by the bar as he was facing Allan's seat. Cutting pork and prepping some fish, he worked with efficiency and enjoyment.

“Ohhhhhhh! That's more than I thought.” Allan cheered as he watched this feast.

“It is what you paid for,” Berg added, preparing the meat for the grill.

Roasted pieces of meat on a grill were a pleasure for both the nose and the future mouth. Feast like this was truly blissful for Allan, who loved It was much better than his homemade lunches. Even if he and his father went hunting a few times a season, It wasn't every day that he had meat of such quality.

In about an hour, the plates were wiped clean by a single guest around this buffet, which consisted of some seats around a place for a private chef experience. It was quite luxurious, as everything would be fresh to the bone and delicious to the tip of one's tongue.

Patting his stomach in satisfaction, Allan gave a long sigh. “That was absolute bliss. Thank you for doing this, Berg.”

He knew very well, that this was a facade on his part. The head chef wouldn't allow the opening of a buffet salon. His reasoning was quite stupid if Allan would be honest with his words. Some excuse about exclusivity, and making it rare, and every once in the 7th day or whatnot. It was to make long reservations, while the prices for these things went with that, probably. It was open only every 7th day for higher society and for groups of people who were rich in gold coins.

As for Berg and this private, and rather questionable, the decision of his, it was rather simpler than it seemed. Allan was an approachable kid, for the most part. Befriending older than himself, Berg was done with him, while it only started as a partnership for his business. It eventually turned to once in a while, feast, but he still had to pay for the food, which he did. As long as the food would be paid for, Berg didn't mind this sort of thing. For one person, 20 silvers for a meal was a lot, and Allan wasn't that often here.

“It is fine. You come here at least twice a season, anyway.” Borg waved his hand, dismissing whatever worry Allan had. After finishing the cleanup of the empty buffet, he pointed to the other table. Knives and a note were there, which indicated Bergs' next words. “Here is what you wanted. Knife sharpening, little loose handle, and order for a gift for the wife of my friend.”

“Nice. Good. That's gonna be at least 10 silver. Half of this meal!” Allan guessed, believing that it could be even more.

“Alright then. Have a good rest of the day Berg and today's meals were excellent as always!” Swiping them under his armpit, Alan told him goodbye in n excellent mood.

Leaving the kitchen from the side door, he walked toward the bar. There were more people here, than before. Lunchtime passed, but quite a few customers were sticking around for a drink or two. Chattin' with their friends and families, they wanted to spend time on this nice day.

Finding an unoccupied chair in the bar, Allan jumped up at the high-seated chair.

“Satisfied?” Thomas asked as he was preparing some drinks for customers.

“Of course. Premium service in this restaurant is the best. Can I get some cherry mix with water?”

“12 copper,” Thomas said after finishing their drinks. Taking a jar with a red thick base, beyond the counter, he mixed a few spoonfuls of that red base and added water.

Allan tossed him two coins to him, which he caught with two fingers. “Nice catch.” Allan praised his skill.

Filled with the satisfaction of a meal and his favorite drink, he listened to the pub's atmosphere. At the front of the pub, there was a group of rough-looking men sitting around a table. Adventurers or sailors of a rough sea were about Allan's guesses from their appearance.

“This dogshit-ass situation is over the top. Do they think we can't stand against them?” Shouting, one of them asked the others. He didn't even consider his manners in this place. Some unhappy gazes turned him, but he didn't give a single crap about them.

“Information may be wrong. We are in unknown territory, after all. North nation is getting unsteady with conflicts and that's a simple fact.” An old man in a hat with a sharp-looking face answered, trying to calm this madman who couldn't even remain coolheaded in a public.

North nation was known for its harsh environment. It is home to many tribes and people lived there for as long as one could read the history. It's not a kingdom, nor much of a nation either. It wasn't led by a single-family hierarchy like Grusha, or by the council of government officials, and so on. It was much simpler than all of them combined. The strongest tribe was in charge of the rest, and that was the single and most brutal truth of the North.

Noticing this uproar, Allan turned to Thomas. “What is it about?” he asked him in curiosity. That group was loud and couldn’t help but notice it.

Sighting, Thomas was considering whether to go to this topic or now, but choose to, otherwise, he wouldn't shut up about it. “Some rumors of invasion from the north. Baseless information from northern villages, so pay no attention to them. Up there, it's always some conflict or another.”

“Really? Father never mentioned that about the North.”

“Clayton is a simple man. His shop matter to him more than some worries about things that are outside of his interest. Don't worry too much about it alright?” Thomas explained as if the matter of fact didn't even matter.

Allan looked at this group of men who sat in the corner. Not sure about their logic. “Alright, I guess I won't as any further. Is there something else that would be more interesting?”

Thinking for a moment, Thomas finds the right topic that may be perfect for this curious boy. “There is something of your interest that happened last year in winter. You like sea stories, right?” Thomas asked, not seeing new or old customers approach, he sat beside Allan for the time being. Grabbing some piece of a small paper, Allan noticed it was a sketch of a map. A rather big one, but not enough to depict the whole continent. For a start, it depicted the surrounding nations and kingdoms around the Kingdom of Grusha.

Without words, Thomas pointed towards the south of Grusha. Down there were writings with big letters. Kingdom of Dormant Sea with a royal symbol of the hammock which hugged the ship's anchor.

“It is believed that down there in the south is a calm sea. One that you can swim at, unlike ours. Windy Sea, is quite chaotic, with many deads of sailors all year round. A lot of brave ships sailed onward into the sea. Be it In search of islands or new continents. Most made it around 1000 kilometers in before coming back, or not returning at all. Sea either changed their opinion or leave theirs for itself. It is like a beast in disguise. Quite unrelenting and shameless.” Thomas told in a befitting tone for this kind of story.

Allan nodded to himself, sipping from his drink since he knew some of this already. He got premium geographical books from the local library. It gave significant details about the past tens of thousands of years of the general history of many regions. Names and situations of some nations and changes of kingdoms. He also knew that the Kingdom of the Dormant Sea is the oldest unchanged kingdom. That was impressive since that meant it had a huge amount of history.

Even though this research only depicted a single continent, yet there were some hints about others. Thousands of years in the past, someone discovered something about the second one, but it was nonspecified, and unknown to the general public. Unfortunately, such pieces of information were lost in time. Leaders of nations strictly confiscated the confidentiality of such information, because it could have a major impact on them. Imagining knowledge about the continent could be a significant point of future contact and business. That meant resources, and possible new trade routes across the sea. That would be massive. However, important fugues of nations decided, for whatever reason, to let that be. The hint said that you need to travel to the vast sea in order to reach it, which would guess even a kid.

Seeing him not voicing anything, Thomas continued. “Someone leaked a rather intriguing topic that happened the last winter. A fleet of 4 reinforced grand ships left their shores. In charge was someone from the primary royal family of Dormants. They had communication with people on land. Some form of a new invention, or a treasure of Immortals. Legendary stuff, you know? That fleet made it past the 5000-kilometer mark by their calculations. Afterward, they lost contact with it ever since.”

Listening, this sort of thing was right up at Allan's alleyway. Through the way Thomas was telling this story, he could imagine there was much more to this, which was unknown to the public. Thomas was very good at this sort of talking, as he had sharp ears. After all, he was the owner of a bar.

Gulping down the rest of his drink, Allan thanked Thomas for a good time.

“It sounds really exciting, even though it is about their sad demise and death.”

“That is true. The world isn't a warm place. You should be glad for your father and his care. I know lots of struggling people in villages and poor souls in poverty that even lives in cities. Trying to overcome their struggles is a daily thing one could see.” Thomas told, folding the paper in his pocket.

“Stop with these philosophies, mister Thomas. I know about it quite a bit.” He said to Thomas in return.

“Right. You came here about 9 years ago. I wonder where you were with your father before.” Thomas commented, sounding interested, as he didn't know the answer to that.

“I don’t remember. I was too little.”

“Obviously you don't. You are clever, Allan. You should have persecuted your father about joining some school or institution. It’s not that what you are doing is wrong. I personally don’t believe the need for weaponry will ever disappear.” Thomas explained to Allan a piece of advice of his own.

“I like blacksmithing and forging. What is to say that it's a dumb profession? I will make it clever one day.” Allan argued back, appearing in great convictions and beliefs.

All of a sudden, the entrance to the Lonely Tiger shot open. Revealing a figure clotted in fine blue fabric, before that figure staggered into the pub in the following steps. With a bottle of some liquor in hand, it was a young fella, around 20 years old.

“Oh, no… Not again.” Sighing, Thomas got up from the chair as another situation from the past was once again here. Walking against this young man, he forced him to stand straight, grabbing his both shoulders with his hands. “You had enough, mister Timber,” he told him with a serious lack of any manners since this young man had long enough.

The man struggled, before noticing the annoying face of the man before him. “Get your hands off me right now! I am totally fine” He shoved away Thomas' attempt to help him. “What bartender is kicking out potential customers? Huh?” Shouting, the young man retorted with logic, before noticing the bar where was Allan.

“Look! You even serve little kids. Ohhh! Isn’t it a little Allan? Why a family-less bastard like you is sitting here?” Timber clumsily approached Allan. Almost falling over the chair. “What will you say? You little piece of shit?” he points with his finger, not caring one bit about the gazes of the surrounding people.

“Good day mister Timber.” Answered Allen with a smile, finding this piece of a person quite drunk and stupid.

“I heard my father made some big contract with your father. Isn’t it nice? Why are you sitting there like this?” Timber asked while trying to get over his seemingly nonexistent headache and dizziness.

Noticing his battle, which had poured nothing down his throat, he shouted. “Hey! Thomas! Get me some fucking bottle. This one is empty.” Then, he turned his attention back to Allan, who he seemed to target the most.” Why are you not answering, you little shit? Where is your manner?”

“You reek of alcohol.” Complained Allan, not even knowing what sort of question or answer he was even talking about.

“What? You serious?” Timber asked as he angrily swung his empty bottle at Allan. He stumbled as he hit empty air. Allan crouched down under the chair before a single punch to Timber's guts ended all Timber's problems.

“You piece of…” Timber collapsed to the ground. He was done for an unforeseeable future.

“Family-less my ass Tim Timbers. I may have no surname, but I can kick you in the butt.” Allan vulgarly added to Tim, who can't answer shit, as he couldn't do so.

His own words of the Family-less described people without surnames. Those are the people or families with no history. People who wanted to hide their past, refugees, and poor people with no worth to their name. They were people who were looked down upon by upper-class citizens, or even the middle-class.

“Let me take care of him, Allan,” Thomas said because he didn’t want Allan to further worsen this situation.

“Person must have his pride too. Even if I am young.” Allan glanced at some people who were close to apprehending him for assault and, rather, left this place after thanking Thomas for a pleasant talk.