A week has passed since I arrived here. The snow has started to settle on the ground, and it feels like the later months of the year are creeping in. The chilling air has grown sharper, and the mornings are making it increasingly difficult to get out of bed.

I've kept up my morning workouts, and I can already see some improvement—it feels good. I've also been practicing magic daily, and even there, I notice small but steady progress.

Right now, Orin just announced that we're going to drink. He recently gathered some money, only to throw it all away the moment it hit his hands. Still, I can't complain too much—he seems to be enjoying himself, and honestly, the whole party could use some fun. It's not just wasted money; it's for a good cause. At least, that's what I keep telling myself.

The tavern buzzed with life, a warm haven of noise and light against the biting cold outside. The fire in the hearth popped and crackled, casting dancing shadows across the wooden walls. Orin stood at the head of the table, a wide grin on his face as he raised his tankard high into the air. "Drink up, everyone! Take as many as you want—it's all on me tonight!" he said, his words meant only for his party, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he looked at each of them.

Farren stood up hastily, already heading toward the bar. "That's our Orin for you," he said, clapping Orin on the back as he passed by, an amused smile on his face.

"It's all on you tonight? Well, you're the one holding all the money after our quests… So of course it's on you," Althea said casually, her tone light but teasing. She stood as well, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear before offering a calm smile. "Whatever. I'll take some too, then."

"Finally!" Ronan grinned, stepping forward and giving Orin a hearty slap on the back. "Thanks, man! I was waiting for this. Bet we're having a drinking contest tonight, huh? Hahaha!"

Sela watched the scene unfold, a smile of amusement on her face. Her gaze drifted over to me. "So… Kaito," she said with a playful tilt of her head, "are you going to have a drink this time? The drinks here are actually pretty good, you know. Hehe… Don't be shy! Come on, let's go."

Before I could respond, Sela grabbed me by the arm and started dragging me toward the bar desk.

"Huh? Sure…" I muttered, caught off guard but letting myself be pulled along.

Sela leaned casually on the counter, glancing over her shoulder at me as she spoke without a moment's hesitation. "Kaito, what are you having?"

"Uh… I'm not sure," I said, scratching the back of my head. "Hey, Ronan? What did you get?"

Before I could say anything else, Ronan chimed in with a grin. "Alright, I got you. I'll order the same for you. Hey, Leona! One more of these, please," he called out, his tone uncharacteristically polite, like he was trying to make a good impression. A rare moment for him, honestly.

Leona turned around at the sound of his voice, her movements smooth and practiced. She carried a tankard in one hand, her brown hair tied back neatly, with a few loose strands framing her sharp, cheerful features. Her emerald-green eyes glanced toward Ronan, then shifted to me as a small, knowing smile played on her lips.

"Coming right up," she said warmly. Grabbing two bottles of amber-colored liquor from the shelf behind her, she moved with the ease of someone who had done this countless times before. She tipped the bottles over the tankard in a synchronized pour, her hands steady and deliberate. The liquids mixed together in a swirl of color, and she gave the tankard a quick swirl before setting the bottles down.

With a small flourish, Leona slid the tankard across the counter toward me. Her voice was soft, almost soothing, as she spoke, "Here you gooo. Enjoy."

There was something about her demeanor—friendly and composed, yet confident—that made it clear she knew how to handle people. Her kind smile didn't seem forced or out of habit; it felt genuine, as if she truly enjoyed her work and the company of the people around her.

"Thank you, Miss Leona," I said, reaching out to grab the tankard. The weight of it felt odd in my hand, like…

"Of course, you're welcome, Sir Kaito," Leona replied, her voice lilting with playful emphasis on the title. A soft giggle escaped her, light and teasing, as if she couldn't resist adding just a touch of humor. Her green eyes sparkled with amusement as she watched me, clearly enjoying the interaction.

Damn this habit…

Trying not to give it too much thought, I turn to Ronan. "Thanks, Ronan. Let's see if I end up liking it…" I offer him a small smile before lifting the drink to my mouth and taking a sip.

"Hope you do, man," Ronan replies with a grin, raising his own tankard and taking a sip as well.

The moment the liquid hits my tongue, my face twists into an involuntary grimace. I can't tell if it's because it's bad or if the taste is just… odd. I don't dislike it, I think, but it's definitely strange. "Ugh… ah. It's… different," I manage, setting the tankard down. "I'm really not used to it, but I don't think it's bad. I think."

Ronan chuckles, the sound warm and amused. "Alright, nice. Well, it is your first time drinking ale, right?"

"Yeah, first time," I admit, glancing down at the tankard with a mix of curiosity and caution.

"Leona, can I have the same as them?" Sela calls from behind, leaning casually over the counter with her hands pressing against the wood. Her tone is light, playful, the same mischievous energy she always carries.

"Yes, of course. Give me a minute," Leona responds, turning toward her from behind the counter, already preparing the drinks.

"Thank you, Leona!" Sela chirps, flashing her a bright smile before turning to us with a playful grin. "Sooo... Guys," she begins, her voice dramatically drawing out the words as she leans in closer, eyes glinting with excitement. "Wanna join me in some games?" She pauses for a beat, letting the tension hang in the air. "Hehehe, we'll win money." Her tone takes on a more devious edge, and both Ronan and I are caught off guard.

"What do you mean?" Ronan and I ask in unison, confusion lacing our voices.

"You see those tables over there?" She gestures toward the far side of the tavern, where a few groups of people are gathered. "Heh, we can join them and play for money. I've played with them before, but this time, I won't lose. Last time, I almost lost everything," she says with a mischievous grin, though her tone turns a bit sharper. "They ended the game early because they felt bad for me—pitying me, really. I almost lost all my clothes, but that's not the point." She scowls slightly, her voice tinged with annoyance. "They called it quits just because they couldn't handle me getting close to winning. I would've gone all the way, but they chickened out and let me off easy. It's just… annoying, you know?" Her grin returns, but now it has a sharper edge to it.

"Are y'all talking about gambling?" Farren suddenly pipes up, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "If so, count me in! I want revenge on those guys over there. They almost won my sword last time—I had to give them my clothes instead." He scoffs, shaking his head in mock frustration. "Let's show them who's boss and beat their asses this time."

"Yeah! Join us, Farren! We'll show them who's boss together!" Sela hollered, raising her drink high above her head, the froth spilling over and dripping down her hand as her energy spiked. Her grin stretched wide, eyes practically glowing with excitement.

"Hell yeah! You bet I will!" Farren bellowed, slamming his tankard against hers with a loud clink before hoisting it above his head. Without hesitation, he threw an arm around Sela's shoulder, and she did the same, the two swaying slightly as they stumbled forward like comrades on a mission.

They marched toward the tables with deliberately silly, exaggerated steps, each trying to outdo the other in ridiculousness. "Let's gamble!" they shouted in perfect sync, their voices echoing across the tavern as onlookers chuckled at their antics.

Orin gives them a slightly embarrassed look from across the table. Althea, sitting beside him, seems to share his sentiment—though there's a spark of amusement in her eyes as she watches Sela being her usual self, as unapologetic as ever.

Ronan glances over at me, his expression resigned yet amused, as if to say, Yeah, this is just how they are. "Welp, let's follow them, then…" he says with a shrug, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

"Hah… yeah, sure. Do they not feel any sense of embarrassment?" I mutter, glancing over at the two as nearly the entire tavern turns to stare at them. The secondhand embarrassment is enough to make me want to disappear into the floor. Still… they're having fun, so who am I to judge?

"Yup. They're a special breed, all right," Ronan says, scratching the back of his head as he watches the duo saunter through the room like they own the place. "Honestly, I think they might be breathing a whole different kind of air than the rest of us."

A quiet laugh slipped from me as I replied, "Heh, yeah, agreed." Ronan answered with a small smile, and without another word, we both started walking toward the two idiots.

Ronan and I arrived near the gamblers' table, where cards flipped effortlessly through the players' hands, landing on the wooden surface in smooth motions. The ones seated around the table picked up their hands, some keeping their reactions carefully guarded, while others cast disappointed glances at their cards, already itching for a fresh deal.

At the adjacent table, where two men sat nursing their drinks, Sela slammed both hands onto the surface with a sharp thud. Farren followed suit, mirroring her energy as he smacked his palms down beside hers.

"Hey, let us join… please," Sela demanded, her voice taking on an uncharacteristically soft and sweet tone. The sudden shift broke through the men's stoic poker faces, drawing their eyes to her in surprise.

"You heard her," Farren added, his tone firmer, accompanied by a piercing stare at the pair.

The older of the two men leaned back, taking a leisurely sip of his ale before responding. "Huh? Oh… you two again…" He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "You remember what happened last time? Are you sure about this? You know you don't stand a chance. Your luck's terrible, and your skills aren't much better. But hey, if you're dead set on losing your belongings, be my guest."

He sighed deeply, his tone carrying a mix of exasperation and amusement. "Fine. Take a seat, kids."

"Hey! We're not planning to lose this time… Hmph!" Sela puffed out her cheeks, crossing her arms tightly over her chest in a dramatic pout.

The man muttered under his breath, his words just audible enough to catch. "So you planned to lose last time… I see."

Sela's pout deepened, but she seemed to miss—or ignore—the remark. "Whatever! We're going to win this time! And I am not a kid! I'm eighteen now… Hmph!" Her defiance was punctuated with a sharper pout as she stubbornly grabbed a chair, plopping into it with a soft thud.

"Yeah, we'll show you! We've got these two with us today, so no chance we'll lose! Kaito, Ronan, make your entrance!" Ronan says, swinging his arms back as he steps aside, motioning for us to join. But no one moves. The entrance is… nonexistent. "Huh?"

Ronan and I step forward from the side, gently placing our drinks on the table before taking our seats beside Sela.

"Hi, good to meet you, sir." I extend my hand for a proper introduction, offering a polite smile, though a quiet wave of embarrassment burns beneath my calm exterior.

He grabs my hand, a bit confused, and we shake gently. "Huh? A polite kid, huh? You sure you're in the same party as these dorks?" he asks, tilting his head toward the others before returning his gaze to me. "My name's Garrik Drevon. Nice to meet yaa."

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

I nod respectfully, releasing his hand and reaching toward the other younger man. He meets my gesture with a firm, quick shake.

"Good to meet you, Kaito. I'm Dein Valder. Let's have a great game of cards," he says, smiling warmly.

"I'm glad to meet you, Dein Valder. I wish the same," I reply, keeping the nervousness in check, though his kindness loosens the tension in my chest just a little.

"Alright, let's get started then," Garrik says, smoothly shuffling the cards in his hand. "Here's how we'll play: it'll be one-on-one. One of you against one of us, and we'll have two matches. For example, Ronan against me, and Farren against Dein. We'll play best of three, and of course, the loser pays. After one of you loses, one of the others who's free will switch in with the loser. We're only two, so if we lose, we won't switch—we'll just keep going."

Sela leaned forward, cracking her knuckles with a sharp grin that spread across her face. "Sounds good. Come on, let me start against you, tough guy. I'll take my revenge for you pitting me last time."

Garrik smirked faintly, his hands moving deftly as he shuffled the deck with a smooth rhythm. "Sure… but I only helped you. If you hadn't stopped, things would've gotten awkward for you." He flicked the top card to test the shuffle, then shrugged. "Whatever, we can play."

"Yay! Alright, let's go!" Sela's grin widened, her energy spiking as she clapped her hands together, the sharp sound echoing around the table.

Nearby, Farren dropped himself into a chair with a heavy thud, leaning his elbows on the table. He gestured toward Dein with his tankard, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Alright, then I'll go against you, Dein! You up for it?"

Dein blinked, looking momentarily caught off guard, but nodded as he adjusted the cards in front of him. "Uh, sure, we can play," he said, his brow lifting slightly as if trying to gauge Farren's sudden enthusiasm.

As they get who's going to play this first match, Garrik slides two cards to each player, placing the rest of cards in the middle of the table, "Alright, let's start then. Sela, you choose how much money we will play with."

"Oh, I get to choose?" Sela's eyes sparkled with mischief as she tapped a finger to her chin, feigning deep thought. "Mhm… Farren and I didn't bring much with us—he he he." Her mischievous grin widened as she leaned toward Farren, who eagerly dug into his pouch, his face lighting up with the same playful energy. He pulled out a small handful of coins, holding them out like a trophy.

"We've got 40 bronze coins between us," she continued, her voice carrying a playful lilt. "Let's say the winner gets five from the loser."

With a quick motion, Farren dropped 20 coins into her open palm, keeping the other half for himself. Sela grabbed the coins with a greedy smirk, expertly counting out 15 and placing them in a neat pile in front of her. Then, with a flourish, she slid five coins to the center of the table, letting them clink against one another as they settled.

"We'll go with five as well, good with you?" Farren puts five coins onto the table's center as looking over at Dein.

"Fine with me." He replies, sliding in five of his own.

"Alright, let's start then. You can pick up your cards now," Garrik starts the game by grabbing his cards onto his hand, looking at them thoughtfully. While at the other side, Sela looks at her cards, tilting her head almost looking clueless, but then a mischievous grin widens on her lips.

Garrik flipped two cards onto the table with a steady hand, his expression unbothered, almost bored, as his gaze flicked back to the cards in his hand. "Looking good for you so far," he remarked casually, his tone light but teasing.

Sela's grin faltered for a moment, her face growing more serious as she leaned closer to the table, the playful glint in her eye now replaced by sharp focus. She tapped a finger against her lips as if plotting her next move, trying to mask the mischievous edge she usually wore so boldly.

Across from them, Farren furrowed his brow, holding his cards too tightly in one hand as his free hand tapped against the table in agitation. Dein, on the other hand, looked completely calm, leaning back slightly in his chair with a relaxed posture, his fingers idly drumming the edge of his cards.

"...Fuck," Farren muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible but dripping with frustration as he glanced at the cards in his hand.

Sela eyed the cards on the table, her confidence bubbling as she prepared to call the match. With a sly grin, she placed her cards face down on the table, signaling she was ready to reveal them. Garrik mirrored her move with an unreadable expression. Then, in unison, the two tossed their cards into the center of the table.

"He he he, I win... Wait, huh—" Sela's voice, usually soft and confident, stumbled as her grin faltered, her eyes widening in surprise.

"No, Sela, I win," Garrik replied with a faint, almost teasing smile, already gathering the cards from the table and shuffling them with smooth, practiced motions. "But hey, yaa still got a chance. It's best of three, after all."

"Damn it! Fuck! I'll win the next one!" Farren's voice boomed as he shot up from his seat, slamming his cards down on the table in frustration.

Across from him, Dein remained unfazed, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to Farren's outburst. He neatly gathered their cards with an easy smile. "No worries. You've still got two more rounds to turn it around."

As Garrik dealt out fresh cards to each player with a flick of his wrist, I took another cautious sip of my ale. The bitter taste wasn't as harsh as before, but it still made me grimace. Ronan, catching the fleeting expression on my face, chuckled.

"So, Kaito," he asked, leaning slightly closer, "you starting to like it?"

"Uh, somewhat," I replied, glancing at the drink in my hand and then back at him. "I don't feel like it's bad, at least… actually, it's kind of good."

"Nice, nice." Ronan nodded in approval, pausing for a quick sip of his own drink. He set his tankard down with a dull thud. "But hey, these two idiots can't play to save their lives. I just hope we can manage to win at least one game. Hopefully." His voice dropped into a more thoughtful tone. "Let's not bet too much, though. I'd say we stick to five, maybe ten coins. That should be safe enough."

"Yeah, they aren't exactly the sharpest…" I muttered, tilting my head slightly toward Sela and Farren's table while taking another gulp of the ale. The bitter taste still lingered, but it was starting to grow on me. "Where do they even get the money from? Orin? These two are even worse with money than he is. I thought Orin was smarter than giving them coins…"

Ronan smirked, leaning back slightly in his chair with a relaxed shrug. "Yeah, for sure. If I'm honest, though, it wouldn't surprise me if Sela swiped some… or Farren, for that matter." He paused, scratching the back of his head thoughtfully. "Then again, maybe they actually did a quest or two on their own, just for this moment. Who knows with those two."

"Fair. Could be," I replied, my eyes drifting back to the table where Sela and Farren were deep in their game.

"Alright, I win again. Good game, Sela." Garrik grinned as he collected the cards, leaning back in his chair with a calm, self-assured air.

"Huh!? Uh! Ah? That—that has to be cheating…!" Sela stammered, her voice rising as she flailed for an excuse. Her arms, once stubbornly crossed over her chest, fell as she slapped a palm onto the table in frustration. "Cheater, weasel… whatever that even means," she muttered, trailing off with a mix of indignation and resignation.

Grumbling under her breath, she grabbed her tankard and took a big gulp of ale, her pout barely hidden behind the rim.

"Aughhh, damn it! Next time—just you wait!" Farren burst out, jabbing a finger at Dein, who sat there unfazed, his expression calm despite Farren's fiery glare.

Dein raised an eyebrow, pausing for a moment before extending his hand across the table. "...Sure. Good game, by the way." His tone was polite, though the faintest hint of amusement played at the corner of his lips.

Grudgingly, Farren leaned forward, clasping Dein's hand in a firm shake, his frustration clear in the tightness of his grip. The weight of defeat was written all over him—and he hated every second of it.

"…Anyways… Kaito? Want to play a match?" Dein's calm gaze met mine, his voice steady.

I blinked, caught off guard for a moment, then nodded. "Uh, yeah, sure." My eyes drifted toward Farren, then back to Dein. "Farren, mind if I take that seat?"

Farren waved a hand, grinning casually. "Not at all," he said, already shifting in his seat and making space.

"Thanks," I answered, then walked over to the chair and sat down.

The game begins, and Ronan and I, along with the two on the opposite side, each slide ten bronze coins to the center of the table, the soft clink echoing as they settle. Garrik flicks the cards towards us, and I catch mine, scanning them quickly without placing them down. Ronan does the same, his eyes moving over his cards with focus.

As I wait for Garrik to lay down the first two cards, I tap my fingers against the wooden table, the quiet thud of each tap cutting through the stillness. Finally, the two cards are placed in the center of the table, and I hold my cards close, studying them carefully while keeping a watchful eye on the cards in play. A possible lead to a pair catches my attention. I sit back, trying not to give anything away, and mutter quietly under my breath, "Mhm..."

I settle back, one hand resting on the table while I hold my two cards in the other. My fingers tap absentmindedly against the wood, the rhythm automatic as I wait for the next two cards to be dealt. If I'm lucky, I might get that pair... though, to be safe, I'll hold out for two pairs. But I can't wait too long. If I do, Dein might get a stronger pair… Mhm…

"Alright, here we go," Garrik murmurs, sliding two new cards onto the table beside the others. My eyes track the cards as they land. I hesitate, then place my two cards on the table, face down, waiting to see if Dein will follow suit. He does, albeit with some hesitation.

The signal is clear. We both flip our cards face-up, scanning each other's hands for pairs.

Relief washes over me as Dein accepts his loss with a nod. "Good game, Kaito. Best of three, so you haven't won yet."

"Of course, it's not over yet," I reply, watching as Dein gathers the cards and sets them aside in a neat stack. He waits for Garrik and Ronan to finish so we can start the second match.

Ronan groans, clearly frustrated. "Wait... no... so close! Eh, whatever. Good game, Garrik."

"Close call," Garrik says with a grin, collecting the cards and shuffling them with smooth precision. He slides two cards to each of us with a practiced flick of his wrist.

I pick up my cards, glance at them quickly, and shift them to my left hand, ready to wait for the first two cards to be dealt. As I watch Garrik, my fingers begin tapping against the table once more, lost in the rhythm of the game.

"Hey, Farren, wait here. I need to refill my tankard—just in case Kaito is about to win..." Sela says, turning towards the bar.

Farren, finishing the last drop of his ale, glances at her. "Hey, I'll need some too."

"Sure, sure," Sela replies, tossing him a casual smile before striding towards the bar. Her white hair, tied in twin ponytails, bounces with each step, her movement swift and fluid as she walks with an easy, charming grace.

Back at the table, I glance down at my cards. I've already got a pair, but with a bit of luck, I could have another if I wait for the next set. So, I do.

I already have a pair, but with a bit of luck, I could get one more if I hold out for the next set. So, I wait.

The game goes on for another two sets, and as I glance at my hand, I find a high pair and a lower one. Just as I'm about to lay them down, Dein slaps his cards onto the table, a smug, amused look crossing his face as though he's already won.

I take my time, then casually settle my own cards down in front of me. We both flip them over to reveal what we have.

Dein grins. "I win... One more match then for us," he says, leaning back in his chair and barely sparing my cards a glance.

I let out a soft "tsk, tsk, tsk," shaking my head with a smile playing at my lips. My fingers tap the table lightly as I lean back, watching him with a calm but teasing gaze. "Look again, Dein... I win."

"Oh... You actually did it..." Dein chuckles, a slight shake of his head. "That was so close though. Well, thank you for the game, Kaito." He extends his hand across the table, acknowledging his loss with a grin.

I meet his hand with a firm shake. "Thank you too for the game."

How did I win... I've never played this before, I think, feeling a mix of surprise and luck. Guess the cards were on my side this time.

Amusement tugs at the corner of my mouth as a grin forms, and I reach for my ale, taking a long drink before confidently slamming the tankard down on the table. With a small chuckle, I grab the coins in the center, feeling the weight of my unexpected victory. Meanwhile, Dein starts gathering the cards for the next round.

Before I can settle into the win, Ronan, having lost his match, swings his arm around my neck, laughing easily. "Yo, you won!? Congrats, man!" He lifts his tankard, sloshing some ale as he takes a hearty swig.

I follow his lead, slinging my arm around him in return, and grabbing my tankard for another sip. Just as I settle back, a hand slaps my back with force. Farren's voice booms in my ear, "You really won? Damn! I knew you had it in you! Personally, I haven't won a single time..." His tone is half in disbelief, half in admiration.

The next to join the celebration is Sela. She swings her arm around my neck, her other hand holding a tankard. She takes a hasty gulp before letting out a playful laugh. "Congrats, Kaito! Show them who's boss one more time, yeah?! Hehehe!"

Farren, still grinning, slaps his arm around Sela's neck, and just then, Garrik speaks up, his voice calm but curious. "So, are you guys going to play again, or...?"

Before I can answer Garrik, I feel a tap on my shoulder, and Orin's voice cuts through the celebration, low and urgent. "Kaito, can you come outside for a minute? There's someone who wants to talk to us."

I blink, caught off guard, but quickly nod. "Huh? Yeah, sure. I'll be outside in a second." Orin nods in acknowledgment, stepping toward the door to wait outside.

"Hey, guys, I'll be back in a minute. Just need to take care of something." I try to keep it casual, but it's hard to get my words through as Ronan, still with his arm around me, just lets go. Sela, on the other hand, doesn't seem to notice, so I gently slip away from her arm.

Still stuck between them, I start to shuffle towards the exit, curiosity lingers in my thoughts.

Stepping outside, the cold greets me with a sharp breeze, brushing against my face as the door shuts behind me. The muffled warmth and chatter of the tavern fade, replaced by the faint crackle and flicker of lanterns swaying in the wind. Their soft glow illuminates the swirling snowflakes, which drift lazily to the ground, creating a quiet, almost serene atmosphere.

"Orin?" I call, scanning the dimly lit surroundings until my eyes land on him. There he is… Standing just beyond the pool of lantern light, Orin is accompanied by a man I don't recognize. My boots crunch softly on the snow as I approach them, the sound punctuating the otherwise silent night.

The man standing beside Orin seems entirely unaffected by the cold. His long, dark-blond hair is tied into a loose tail that drapes well down his back, with a few strands falling across his face, partially obscuring his sharp features. His deep blue eyes catch the light from the lanterns, vibrant yet distant, holding a calm demeanor that feels almost unnerving. There's a weight behind his gaze, something unspoken but heavy, as though he carries a curse buried deep within his soul.

He wears a long, dark-brown coat that sways lightly in the wind, its open front revealing an inner layer of equally dark fabric that flows loosely over his form. The flickering light dances across the folds of his clothing as he shifts slightly, his gaze locking onto mine—piercing, as though he's looking straight into my soul. It's as if he sees more in my eyes than I could ever see in myself, a hidden history that remains beyond my own understanding.