He stood resolute and firm, gaze fixed ahead, back straight. The afternoon heat was terrible but it would not break him, oh no. Nobody had entered the store in three hours, but that didn't matter. Mother and Fathers latest rule was clear: Always look professional and ready to help. Vittorio thought that might make sense in a fancy shop in a big city, but less so in a farming town. He kept that opinion to himself. Yesterday he had abandoned his pose to go and tidy up after a [Farmer] dragged mud onto the floor - Father had not liked that. Father had liked it even less when Vittorio tried to point out that another rule was to keep the store clean.

So Vittorio remained standing, pushing through the aches. He tried not to think of how long he would need to stay after closing to tidy up - the floor was dirty and one of the shelves was a mess. The one upside to all this was that having nothing to do, he for once heard the hurried steps outside before the door slammed open. No jumping this time!

“Hey Vee!” Gloria called out. Her mischievous smile faded looking at him behind the counter. “Why are you standing like that?” Vittorios best friend was slightly shorter than him, and the difference in how they spent their days had made their mark. She was tanned and lean, with muscles from an active life. He was paler - though still a shade of olive - and scrawny. One spent her time outdoors working her body, the other stood inside staring at a door.

“New rule”, Vittorio replied. “I’m supposed to stay like this when the store’s empty. It looks ‘professional’.”

Gloria broke off from scraping dirt off her boots. “Seriously? Looks like a waste of time to me. I’ve been helping old Zaccheo Farmer weed, and let me tell you, there’s no standing around with him.” She looked around the store before glancing back at him.

“I know it’s messy, but I’m not allowed to tidy up. Mother made that very clear yesterday.”

Gloria got that look that she always got when Vittorio’s parents were mentioned. “I’m sorry, are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. Honestly it’s just as well I’m not allowed to sit, I’m not sure that I could.”

“I know I’ve said it a hundred times, but… it’s not right, Vee.”

“They’re my parents.”

“All the more reason it’s not right. If a stranger hurts you it’s one thing, but family…”

“It is what it is. Besides, I doubt they’ll change now.” He did not mention that his parents had made it clear they considered Glorias upbringing to be hurting her. They were firm believers in discipline. Glorias mother was not.

Gloria smiled then, a small, deeply satisfied smile.

“They might not change, but you will. That’s why I came over. Three days! Three days and we get our classes! Ugh, I haven’t been able to sleep all week, that’s why I went to Zaccheo to try and get worn out. He may be old but trying to keep up with him and his Skills weeding the fields is exhausting. Three days, then we’ll be adults and they can’t do that to you anymore.”

Gloria's enthusiasm was infectious and Vittorio had started to smile. It came to an abrupt end when she finished talking. He looked down at his feet.

“I don’t know… Father gave me a bill yesterday. ‘The cost of raising you and paying for a [Class Guide], with interest’ he said. Told me that when I get my class they’ll start paying me, but keeping the money to pay off my debt. One silver a week for each level I have. 3 410 gold 2 silver right now, but then there’s interest and they’ll keep charging me to live with them.”

“No.”

“What?” Vittorio looked up to see Gloria carrying the broom to the door and starting to sweep.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

“No. You’re not going to do that. You are going to go to Imone, see the Guide, get a class other than what they want, and then you’re going to be free of them. This is it, Vee. This is when you get out.” The sweeping grew more aggressive. “They can’t make you stay. They can’t make you pay. They can’t choose your class. And they for damn sure cannot keep beating you!”

She turned to look at him, and for the first time in years she showed just how angry she was.

“They never should have, but this is the end of it. They’ll never lay their hands on you again or by Casyn I will make them regret it!”

That made Vittorio blanch. Commiserating and complaining about his parents… methods was one thing, but invoking Casyn? That was a very different thing. The God of Liberation was not gentle.

The two stood in an awkward silence for a few moments longer before Gloria spoke again.

“Look. I’ve been needling you about joining me when I become an adventurer. I know you’re hesitant, and I don’t blame you. I just… I want you out of here. And I want to know that you are. And I would love to have you with me when I join the Free Company. But whatever you choose, it should be your choice. Not theirs.”

She’d been talking about him being “her healer” since they were kids. He’d always deflected - not because he hated the idea or because he was opposed to the idea of being an adventurer, but because he didn’t want to get his hopes up. His parents had been very clear for as long as he could remember about what his future was to be. They wanted him to gain a mercantile class, ideally [Assessor] or something similar, then he would work for them and improve their business. He was beginning to suspect that's why they'd had a child at all.

Many of their rules were about guiding him towards such classes. He’d been forbidden from playing physical games, using a tool, cooking, or doing anything else that was even remotely similar to a non-mercantile class. The harshest punishment he’d ever gotten was after helping Antonia Seamstress carry home her goods after she’d hurt her hand. He was not to become a [Labourer], Mother had said.

He knew Gloria was right. Of course he did. But he was afraid his parents had been successful.

“What if”, he started and broke off. “What if I don’t have a choice?”

Gloria snorted. “Of course you’ll have a choice, that’s the whole point of seeing a Guide.”

“I know, but I mean… what if I only get stuff like [Merchant] and [Assessor] and [Shopkeeper]? I don’t know how to do anything else. I’m not like you, I’m… I’m not good at anything.”

Gloria broke off from tidying up a shelf. She walked up to Vittorio, leaning on the counter, bringing her face close to his. “You”, she said firmly, “are great. At so many things. You’re clever, funny, kind, you have a great memory and everyone likes you. Besides, you think everyone was good at their class before they got it? You think [[The Archmage]] was a great spellcaster before studying?”

“Well, she probably knew a bit…”

“Probably, sure. But not much. You’ll be fine, and you won’t have to-”

The door in the back of the shop opened, and a middle-aged, smiling man stepped through. “Ah Vittorio, how- oh, it’s you”, Vittorios father said, sneering at Gloria, his friendly demeanour dropping. “Don’t you have something better to do? Rolling in the mud, perhaps?” Vittorio gave her a pleading look, silently begging her not to get into a fight.

“I was just visiting Vee to talk about getting our classes.”

“I don’t see how that’s necessary. Vittorio knows his duty. If you’re not here to buy anything, please leave. You’re scaring off the customers.”

Gloria glared at him before turning much gentler eyes on Vittorio. “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

Then she left, closing the door.

“Good thing she’ll be off getting herself killed in a few days. One less distraction for you. Now, an exercise.”

“Yes, Father”.

“How many sacks of rice do we have?”

“Eleven, Father.”

“How many kilos to a sack?”

“Twelve, Father.”

“How many kilos of rice in total then?”

Vittorio hated doing sums in his head. “Uhm…”

“That is not a number.”

“No, Father. 132 kilos, Father.”

“On average, how much rice do we sell in a week?”

“I-I don’t know, Father. Less than a sack?”

“That is not a number.”

Vittorios mind raced. It was hard to guess. Maybe two sacks every three weeks?

“8 kilos, Father?”

"Is that a question or an answer?”

“A-an answer, Father.”

“Wrong. 7 and a half kilos. How long until we need to order more?”

132 000 divided by 7 500 - too hard. Multiply 7 500 first? Times 4 gives 30 000. 30 times 4 is…

“How long?”

“One moment, Father”.

30 times 4 is 120. So 4 times 4 is 16 and there’s 12 000 left. So we need it in 18 weeks. How long does shipping take?

“How long, Vittorio?” Fathers voice was firm and displeased.

“Erm…”

“That is not a number. How long?”

“We’d need to order at the latest in… 15 weeks, Father?”

“Is that a question or an answer, boy?”

“15 weeks, Father.”

"Wrong. Go and tell your Mother her son cannot count and needs to be punished.”

“Yes, Father”, Vittorio said, slinking through the door in the back. It was going to be another night of sleeping on his stomach.