"So, Travis, you're back from the crop fields. How was it?" Jessica’s voice cut through the evening air, laced with a teasing edge as her lips curled into a smirk. Her tone was light, but her eyes held that familiar glint of mischief that always left him on edge.

Travis slowed his pace, briefly meeting her gaze before looking past her. "It was alright," he replied curtly, his voice steady but his impatience evident.

"I'm in a bit of a hurry now. Can we talk later?" Without waiting for a response, he brushed past them, determined to avoid whatever trouble they had in store.

Before he could take more than a few steps, a firm hand clamped down on his shoulder, halting him in his tracks. The grip was unyielding, and Travis turned his head slightly to see Sora standing behind him, his face twisted into a mocking grin.

"Aren't you being a bit rude?" Sora asked, his voice low and deliberately taunting. His fingers tightened their hold, pressing into Travis's shoulder with a force that made him wince. "She asked you nicely."

Travis grit his teeth, trying to shrug off the hold, but it was no use. Sora’s strength was overwhelming, and no matter how much Travis struggled, the grip only seemed to grow tighter. Pain shot through his shoulder, making his jaw clench as he glared at the taller boy.

"Don't bother with him, Sora," Jessica chimed in, her tone dismissive as she flicked her hair over her shoulder. "He's not worth our time. Let’s go. We need to cash in these Cores before the guild closes." Her words dripped with arrogance, her attention already shifting elsewhere.

Sora held his grip for a moment longer, as if savoring Travis’s discomfort, before finally letting go. He took a step back but didn’t miss the chance to glare at him, his dark eyes narrowing with disdain. Then, just as Travis thought it was over, Sora leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper.

"I'm banging your crush," he muttered, just loud enough for Travis to hear.

Travis stiffened, his hands curling into fists at his sides, but he refused to give Sora the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, he kept his gaze steady, his silence the only response he could muster.

Sora chuckled darkly and turned away, slipping an arm around Alissa and Jessica’s shoulders with ease. He even gave them a playful tug on their cheeks, earning lighthearted giggles from both girls. Travis watched them stroll off, Sora’s laughter trailing behind them as they disappeared down the road.

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Exhaling sharply, Travis shook his head, the tension in his body slowly ebbing away.

'Not worth it,' he told himself, turning away from the scene. He had better things to focus on, bigger problems to solve. With steady steps, he made his way back to the stables, where his modest bed awaited him.

The familiar scent of hay and the soft rustle of the horses greeted him as he stepped inside. He threw himself onto the rough mattress, the exhaustion of the day finally creeping in. Yet, even as his body relaxed, his mind raced. He needed to grow stronger, to become someone who wouldn’t be shoved around so easily.

Lying on his back, he stared up at the ceiling, the dim light of the lantern casting faint shadows. 'There has to be a way,' he thought, his determination flaring despite the ache in his shoulder. Ideas swirled in his head—training, seeking guidance, or even learning more about this "Awakening" Eryndor had mentioned.

Eventually, the weight of the day caught up to him, and his thoughts began to blur. His eyelids grew heavy, and as he drifted off to sleep, one single thought lingered in his mind: I won’t stay weak forever.

....

When morning came, the first rays of sunlight filtered through the wooden beams of the stables, casting a golden glow over Travis’s makeshift room. He pushed himself up from his straw-filled mattress, shaking off the remnants of sleep. Today was different. He had the day off, and he already knew how he wanted to spend it. His mind was set on heading to the guild for another evaluation.

The only catch? He needed money.

Travis glanced around the stable, his gaze settling on a haystack in the corner. With deliberate steps, he walked over, crouching down and plunging his hand into the scratchy pile. After a few seconds of digging, his fingers closed around a small, worn pouch. He pulled it out and loosened the string, the faint jingle of coins echoing in the quiet morning air.

Opening the pouch, he couldn’t help but grin.

'I’m sure this will be enough,' he thought as he eyed the contents.

Inside were 50 Gleams—months’ worth of savings from his long days in the fields and the odd jobs he’d taken on for the village folk. It wasn’t a fortune, but it was his, earned through sweat and persistence. Enough to pay for the evaluation and even get him a ride to the next town by carriage if needed.

Still, a small pang of reluctance hit him as he fingered the coins. This money had been set aside for something bigger, something more permanent. He’d dreamed of using it to find a better place to live, away from the cramped and drafty stables.

But then he shook his head, resolve hardening in his chest.

'I don’t plan on staying here any longer. I just need to make sure I’m at least ready enough to survive in this world,' he reminded himself.

Survival and strength mattered more than comfort right now.

Travis tucked the pouch securely into his belt and stepped outside, feeling the crisp morning breeze brush against his skin. The village was just beginning to stir, and the sound of roosters crowing echoed in the distance as he made his way toward the Guild Association.

The Guild Association wasn’t just a local establishment; it was a cornerstone of life across Ashvenmoor. A sprawling, world-wide organization that managed adventurers and their exploits, it served as the backbone of countless towns and villages. Their reach was undeniable, with guild stations planted in almost every corner of the world, no matter how small or remote.

For adventurers, the guild was a lifeline. It provided resources, connections, and most importantly, jobs. Anyone in need of assistance—be it protecting their lands, gathering rare materials, or dealing with dangerous creatures—could post a request to the guild. These jobs were categorized by Class, a ranking system that determined the difficulty and pay. The higher the Class, the more dangerous the job, but also the more lucrative the reward.

Travis had spent enough time around adventurers to know the guild’s reputation. It was a place of opportunity, but it was also fiercely competitive. People of all kinds passed through its doors, from seasoned veterans to fresh-faced rookies. Those who thrived within the system could carve out a name for themselves, while those who failed often disappeared into obscurity—or worse.

As the guild building came into view, a sturdy structure of stone and timber with the guild’s emblem hanging above its doors, Travis felt a flicker of anticipation in his chest. He didn’t know what the future held, but today would be another step toward finding out.

TO BE CONTINUED