The sword flashed silver in the light. Eradin grunted as he blocked, his own blade ringing out from the hit. He stepped backwards, drawing his arm up in a desperate counter. Alan saw it coming. His friend smiled, dirty blonde hair flying as he struck. His wooden sword caught Eradin right on the knuckles. He yelped, dropping his weapon as he clutched at his injured hand. He crouched as he bent over, his sword clattered as it hit the ground.

“Gods damn, Alan. That hurt like hell!”

Alan grinned, sheathing his blade, “It’s the only way to learn Eradin. Better a sore hand than losing a limb.”

Eradin glared daggers at his friend. Alan was tall for his age, standing at least a full finger above him. His body was well built, the well defined muscles of his arms a clear sign of his years spent training. His face bore a set of strong angular features, his nose bent slightly to the left.

“Well I lasted a bit longer that time didn’t I?”

“Yea it was a good try.”

Eradin scowled, rubbing his knuckles.

“I’m sorry Eradin,” Alan said, his smile falling flat. “To be honest, I don’t think this is working. You’ve already got the basics down. I think if you just found someone closer to your own level, you’d be able to advance much faster.”

“I know,” Eradin sighed, allowing himself to fall back. He placed his hands behind him, feeling the stiff crunch of leaves beneath his palms. He looked up into the forest canopy above. It was early autumn and the trees had already begun to change. Rich shades of red and orange filled their branches, glowing rays of light sneaking past to illuminate the forest floor.

“So how’s life at the academy treating you?” he asked, his heavy breaths making his chest rise and fall. He felt the leaves shift as Alan sat down next to him. “Live up to your expectations?”

Alan’s eyes lit up, “It's been a blast so far! I think I told you already but I’m rooming with Kal.”

Eradin nodded, remembering the face of his childhood friend. “He wants to be a mage right? Guess they don’t separate based on class.”

“Yup, our dorm is pretty mixed. We got all types of people.

“You enjoy move-in? You talked about quite a bit the past summer.”

Alan grinned, “Yea, move-in was great. It was really fun meeting the others living in the dorm and our resident assistant, Kota, is super chill. Most of the students living there are first year’s like me and even though we have a ton of different specializations, we end up taking a lot of the same classes. I’ve gotten to know them pretty well.”

“Well, you always were pretty good at making friends.” Eradin plucked some of the grass growing up beside him. He twirled the blades between his fingers. “Dorm life seems pretty fun, did you guys end up having some type of initiation?”

“Did we ever!” Alan’s face lit up, his mouth chattering excitedly, “You won’t believe this Er! Kota

took us out to the marsh behind campus and made us strip naked. Imagine this! Twenty guys running naked through the swamp while rubbing their balls with fire grass! Took maybe twenty seconds before the screaming started. By the end of it, we were practically diving into the muck! You should have seen us afterwards, hobbling back to our rooms clutching our nuts. I wouldn’t be surprised if we woke up the entire campus.

Eradin’s smile had grown into an ear splitting grin over the course of the story. By the end of it, he found himself clutching his sides, his body rocking as he tried to stop himself from laughing. It took him a full minute before he had the breath to speak. He wiped the tears from his eyes, still chuckling, “Hells, Alan that sounds amazing! How did Kal like that? He’s so introverted, I can’t even imagine him doing it.”

“Oh he did it alright! I forced him to! Told him it was a super important bonding exercise.”

Eradin chuckled. “I wish I could have seen it. I didn’t really think the initiation stuff was true. Not with that crazy mud flapper story going around.”

Alan held up his hand, his smile growing even wider, “Not only is it true Er, Kota saw it happen first hand! Says he could see the thing flapping in the guy’s stomach!”

Eradin continued to smile, laughing along as Alan told him more about his adventures. As the high left him however, his thoughts began to take a turn.

Once again, he felt that familiar feeling of emptiness settle in his stomach. It expanded, filling every part of him. He had fallen behind again. It was the same in every part of his life. He had never been good enough - always lagging behind the others. No matter what he did, he would always be the one struggling to catch up.

Alan continued to drone on about his new life at school. Eradin tried to listen, but he couldn’t really pay attention. He found the words passing over him, their meaning lost to his ears.

While Alan had fun learning the skills to become a successful adventurer, he would be stuck counting coins and reading numbers. He and his new friends would be living the life he had always dreamed of, yet here he was, forced to look after his father’s shop.

He grit his teeth, imagining the life that awaited him: Every day he would wake up- he would roll down the blinds of his shop, welcome customers, count out the proper amount of coins...

Just thinking about it made his blood boil. He hated it! Every day would consist of the same routine. Over and over again, a never ending loop of utter boredom.

He felt an arm clasp onto his shoulder. Blinking, he found himself looking into Alan’s concerned green eyes. “Are you okay Er? You kind of spaced out there for a bit there.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Eradin shook his head, clearing it. He lightly pushed away Alan’s arm, standing to his feet. “Yea, sorry about that. I’m not sure what happened there. I think I’m gonna call it quits for today. Thanks for helping me out.”

“Yea, no prob,” Alan said, though his tone remained not entirely convinced. Should I meet you back here tomorrow then?”

“Sounds good,” Eradin picked up his practice sword and handed it to Alan. Waving a quick goodbye, he headed towards the path he knew to lead towards the city.

The morning air was crisp, but not cold. Its light touch left Eradin’s skin energized. It would be a long time still until winter truly set in. Eradin hopped over a fallen log, the surface of the rotting wood sprouting a varied collection of moss and fungi. Andar was a mild country, sitting well inland and far from the sea. Though they occasionally got snow, it never stuck around for long.

Spying the beginnings of a proper dirt path, Eradin left the forest.

He stared out from the forest edge, gazing down at the endless stretch of farmland that lay before him. The rolling sea of golden yellow spread out around Andar’s city walls, their stalks bending to the whims of the wind.

He sighed, letting the cool breeze blow past his face. The wind carried away his stress, his built up emotions leaving him. The uncomfortable feeling in his stomach settled back down.

Idiot. He metally slapped himself. He had already come to terms with not becoming an adventurer. So why was he still like this? It was too late for him now, he had already turned eighteen.

He sighed looking upon the city's walls, the grey monstrosities dwarfing everything around them. Andar was an old city, built long ago by the hands of the ancients. Even with their creators long dead, the stone walls still stood strong, protecting the people within from the dangers of the outside world. In all its history, the city had not once fallen, the walls proving too much of a hindrance for would-be attackers.

Alan was so damn lucky! Born into a family of adventurers, he had been practically groomed to continue the tradition. Having received training in the sword since birth, he had practically breezed through the academy’s entrance exam.

He clenched his fist, a flare of annoyance spreading across his features. It lasted for just a second. Just as quickly, the flame died. His fingers loosened, a dull feeling of hopelessness filling him.

He couldn’t stay classless forever. He had already held off for too long.

Though there wasn’t necessarily a rule stating he needed to take a class related to shopkeeping, Eradin knew better. He was weak, ungifted in both magic and combat. Even as an adventurer, he would be forever doomed to a life in the low ranks. To be classless was to live life crippled. It was akin to placing a handicap on oneself.

The past few months had been the toughest of Eradin’s life. He had thought he had come to terms with being a merchant, running his dad’s shop. He would never amount to anything as an adventurer afterall.

So why was it that he couldn’t bring himself to gain a class?

Annoyed, he watched from above as a line of merchant caravans and travelling farmers made their way towards the city’s massive gate. Their wagon bed’s were filled with the recent harvest, sacks of heavy grain filling their carts.

He tore away his gaze, beginning his trek down the steep hill. Wild grass brushed against his legs, the cold dew drawing goosebumps as it met bare skin. He slowed his pace, scared of having his feet slip out from under him.

Soon enough, he found himself on flat ground, the murmur and buzz of human voices filling his ears. Dust filled the air, creaking wagon wheels rolling past him.

The gates of the city towered above, massive slabs of wood held back by what could only be described as tree trunks. He passed through the open gates, unable to stop himself from staring at the stone archway above.

As the faint warmth of sunlight fell upon his neck once again, he found himself standing in a new world.

Human voices filled the air, the chaotic din of the crowd filling Eradin with a sense of comfort and familiarity.

Eradin walked down the busy streets of Andar, his gaze roaming the assortment of various street stalls. The city bustled with life. All manner of people roamed the street. He moved out of the way as a noble’s carriage clacked its way past him, its wooden wheels clicking on hard cobblestone.

The air smelled of roasted meat, the mixing and mingling of scents causing his mouth to water. Spotting a booth selling Corund rolls, his heart picked up. He sidled up to the wooden stall, for a moment forgetting about his problems.

The shopkeeper was a large man, his pudgy face bearing a thick mustache. He smiled as Eradin approached. “Welcome! care to try a corund roll? This batch is fresh.”

Eradin watched as the sugared bottoms of the rolls sizzled on the tray of flat iron. Their bottoms had turned a golden yellow, the sugar melted and crisp. He inhaled, taking in the scent of fresh bread and cinnamon. “How much for a roll?”

“Three coppers.”

Eradin fingers dug into his pocket, searching. Pulling out exactly three coppers, he handed the man the money. “Thanks, you want a specific one?”

Eradin nodded pointing to a large roll, with a thick brown base, “I’ll take that one.”

“Good choice.”

Eradin watched with eager eyes as the shopkeeper picked up the roll with a pair of wooden tongs and wrapped it in paper. He presented the package to Eradin, “Enjoy.”

Eradin thanked the man, unwrapping his meal. Oh that smell!

He bit into the treat, his eyes closing in contentment. Mhmmm... That sweet taste of sugar, mixed with the perfect amount of cinnamon and just a hint of nutmeg. He sighed, this was heaven.

Continuing his walk down the street, he savoured his snack. It wasn’t long before Eradin found himself in front of his father’s shop. The building was relatively new, housed between a tailor shop store and a bookstore. The large front glass windows sparkled, freshly cleaned by Eradin’s own hands the day before.

He looked up, reading the sign hanging above the door.

Amon’s Emporium: The Adventurer’s One Stop Place to Shop.

He sighed. Moving his snack to his left hand, he pushed open the glass door. A bell tingled, signalling a new customer.

“Welcome to Amon’s Emporium!” Eradin’s father’s voice rang out from the back of the shop. I’ll be with you in just a moment.

“Eradin rolled his eyes. “It’s just me dad, I'm back from my visit with Alan.”

His father’s face poked out from behind a shelf of lanterns, his oversized spectacles hanging precariously off the tip of his nose.

Amon Vastille was an eccentric man, his personality having long been a source of embarrassment for Eradin. Though Eradin often found his father’s personality infuriating, he still loved his father. He was endearing in an annoying way.

“Ahh, Eradin! I was wondering when you’d return. Perfect timing, I just received a new shipment of leather from old Garth. I was wondering if you could run over to Mrs. Aldwin’s and commission a few new sets of vests and leggings.”

Of course he had a job for him. He sighed, but nodded, “Alright, do you have a copy of the order?”

Amon’s eyebrows shot up, his index finger pointed towards the sky “Ahhh yes, I suppose you would need that. Just give me a moment-

The bell jingled again.

“Welcome to Amon’s Emporium! How can I help you?”

Eradin turned, watching as a man clothed in a black cloak entered the shop. His hair was long, dark flowing locks falling past a face covered in heavy stubble. A large one handed dagger sat at his side, a varied assortment of smaller throwing knives laying in the holster hanging from his waist.

The door shut closed behind him, cutting off the noise of the crowd. The man’s eyes scanned the shop coming to rest on a pair of skill books locked behind the counter. His voice was low,

“Do you buy magical items here?”

“Amon smiled, “why a matter of fact, yes we do! Keep in mind, it does depend on the type of magical item though. We actually sell a set of magic fire starter kits. They’ve ended up being one of our top sellers! Great for adventurers who-

The man took out a bundle of cloth from under his cloak, placing it on the counter. His voice was raspy and low. How much will you pay for this?”

Amon walked up, carefully undoing the wrappings.

“Alright, let’s take a look-see at what we got here first-

His voice froze, a look of disbelief spreading across his face.

He shot a quick glance at Eradin before looking back towards the newcomer. His voice took on a hushed whisper.

“Where did you get this?”

“My party looted it from a dungeon chest. Thought we’d sell it and split the money.”

Amon’s face had gone pale, a bead of sweat tracing its way down his neck.

“Do you mind if I cast an examine spell on it?”

“Go ahead.”

Amon’s seemed to focus, staring intently at the object. His gaze could have burned a hole straight through it. From what Eradin could tell, it was just an old book, its cover bound in a dark black leather. Pale white symbols were carved into the material, a mixed composition of curling lines and squiggles.

With a thought, he cast his own examine. His jaw dropped.