As Viktor and Arelos made their way back to the familiar streets that now formed the backdrop of their day-to-day lives, the excitement from their unexpected windfall lingered. They walked together through the bustling city, feeling lighter, as if the weight of the cold winter had lessened with each step.
"Viktor," Arelos began, his tone a meditative hum that suggested thoughtful consideration, "What should we do with the money? We can’t exactly just hide it and pretend today’s luck is an everyday thing."
Viktor chuckled, the laughter sparking in his eyes, still riding the thrill of fortune. "I think we should treat ourselves to a nice meal, to celebrate a little, you know? Something with real meat. Maybe bacon—oh, how long has it been since we had some proper strips of bacon?"
Arelos gave Viktor a sideways glance, half-amused by the suggestion, half-serious. "Bacon? Have you seen the price of bacon lately? Might as well buy out the butcher with that appetite."
Viktor feigned a pout, turning his gaze to the sky with exaggerated introspection. "Alright then, fine—no bacon. What about chicken? Surely a couple of coppers for some good chicken isn’t too extravagant, right?"
Arelos sighed, the sound only half-exasperated, with a hint of amusement threading through. "Fine, chicken," he agreed, his voice touched by the humor of Viktor’s insistent indulgence. "But just some, we shouldn’t overdo it."
Having reached that compromise, they laughed, sharing a moment of lighthearted ease, the warmth between them rekindled by the hopeful spark of newfound possibilities.
“Still,” Arelos continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone, “we need to think bigger picture. This kind of money doesn’t just fall from the sky—”
“Or a nobleman’s pocket,” Viktor interjected dryly, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.
Arelos chuckled, the tension of their long day relieved through shared humor and camaraderie. “Point taken,” he conceded, the laughter lightening his countenance. Yet his focus quickly shifted back to the matter at hand. “But really, the biggest threat we face right now isn’t just lack of food—it’s the cold. Winter’s still got us in its grip, and we need to be smart about this.”
Viktor nodded, his grin softening as he saw Arelos’ point. "You’re right about the cold. We can’t keep going like this with clothes this thin, especially you—you need something sturdier than those rags and boots that barely hold together. But," he raised a finger, a teasing glint in his eyes, "food first. A man can’t think straight when he’s starving, and I refuse to make life-altering decisions without a full stomach."
Arelos rolled his eyes, but his lips curved into a faint smile. "Fine. We’ll eat first. But no splurging on fancy meats, alright? Something filling and warm, not frivolous."
"Filling and warm sounds perfect," Viktor agreed, clapping a hand on Arelos’ shoulder. "After that, we’ll find a tailor or even just a peddler with good wool cloaks and sturdy boots. We’ll get the best we can afford, and then—no more freezing at night. Deal?"
"Deal," Arelos said with a decisive nod.
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The boys arrived at The Outrider's Den, but this time with a different sense of purpose. They pushed the heavy wooden door open, stepping into the familiar warmth of the bustling tavern, but not as workers. Today, they were patrons, and a buzz of excitement lingered between them at the prospect of tasting the fruits of their unexpected fortune.
Normally the ones making their way to the kitchen or setting tables, Viktor and Arelos felt a slight awkwardness at their current position, bringing with them that hint of unfamiliarity within the usual space. The rich scent of savory dishes wafted through the air, setting their stomachs rumbling in eager anticipation.
Bryna, bustling between tables with her usual efficient ease, caught sight of them and approached, her eyebrows raising in faint surprise. "Look at what the cat dragged in! Back again so soon, boys? I thought I told you it didn’t look good for work today," she said, her voice layered with both curiosity and amusement.
Viktor grinned broadly, charm lighting up his face as he met Bryna's gaze. "You could say we had some success," Viktor replied, a playful tone threading through his words. Yet even as he spoke, Arelos nudged him lightly, signaling with a discreet sharpness that now was not the time to overshare. Viktor caught the warning, his grin turning sheepish as he smoothly redirected the conversation. "But really, we’re here to taste your establishment's fine cooking from the other side of the counter for once. Thought we’d enjoy a decent meal today, relax a bit."
Bryna, amused by their unusual circumstance, chuckled as she folded her arms. "Brave words, young man. So, what can I get for you today?"
Viktor's eyes glinted with anticipation as he exchanged a glance with Arelos, excitement mirrored in their faces. "We’d like to try some grilled chicken with roasted potatoes," Viktor requested, echoing the decision they’d made earlier together. "Something fit for a king, you know!"
At this, Bryna’s eyebrows shot up, a hearty laugh escaping her lips. "Fit for a king, indeed! That's 3 coppers a plate, boys. You sure you want to be spending that much in one go?" she asked, her tone playful yet laced with a hint of concern for their recent means.
Viktor looked at Arelos for confirmation, and upon receiving a nod of encouragement from his friend, he turned back to Bryna with renewed assurance. "Yes, we do," he affirmed, a confident gleam in his eyes. "Life’s short, and it’s not every day that we can dine on meals made by friends, right?" he added, ladling on his characteristic charm.
Bryna chuckled, clearly delighted by Viktor’s ever-present knack for lightening the moment. With a nod, she gestured toward an empty table near the hearth. "Alright then, have a seat. I’ll have Soros prepare the finest chicken you’ve ever tasted!"
The boys settled at the table, anticipation knitting in their hearts as they marveled at the novelty of their situation. For once, they weren’t merely surviving— they were truly living.
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Their patience was soon rewarded as Bryna returned with two steaming plates, setting them before the boys with a flourish. The tantalizing aroma of grilled chicken and roasted potatoes drifted upward, enveloping them in a comforting embrace. Without hesitation, they dug in with gusto, relishing each flavorful bite, the meals exceeding even their keenest expectations.
When the last morsel vanished from their plates, Bryna approached to settle the matter of the bill. "Alright, now, let's see about that price," she teased, her eyes twinkling merrily. "Usually, I’d say three coppers each, but considering your hardworking history here, let's say a copper each will do, call it an employee discount."
Viktor and Arelos exchanged grateful looks, their hearts swelling with appreciation for Bryna’s kindness. " Thank you – really, thank you," Viktor expressed sincerely, Arelos nodding in agreement beside him.
"Enjoy the rest of your day, boys," Bryna bade them, waving off their gratitude with an affectionate smile that was softened by the gentle tones of understanding etched in her voice.
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The boys left the warmth of The Outrider's Den with their spirits high, the satisfaction of their shared meal filling both their bellies and their souls. Their laughter seemed to carry them down the bustling streets as they made their way to the nearest tailor, eager to invest their newfound fortune in clothing suitable for the harsh winter.
The tailor's shop was tucked into a corner of the marketplace, marked by a modest sign swinging gently in the chilly breeze. As Viktor and Arelos approached, the shop's interior was visible through the windows—bolts of bright fabric lined the walls, while garments hung neatly from racks, each piece begging to be touched.
Upon entering the shop, they were greeted by the tailor, a man of short stature with graying hair and a gentle demeanor. 'Welcome,' he said with a friendly nod, his eyes briefly studying them. 'New faces in these parts, I see. My name is Remi,' he added, introducing himself.
A young man, presumably Remis' attendant, moved efficiently among the fabrics and garments. The room was warm from a small stove in the corner, and the scent of wool and leather permeated the air, offering a comforting contrast to the biting chill outside.
Despite Remi's affable introduction, a notable hesitation lingered in his eyes as he took in their tattered attire. His initial words were measured. "How might I assist you today?" he greeted, his voice polite, though tinged with uncertainty.
Noticing the subtle doubt reflected in Remi's eyes, Viktor stepped forward, meeting his gaze with a reassuring smile. "Good day, Remi," Viktor replied confidently, his voice warm with genuine friendliness. "We've come to purchase some winter clothing. It's been a harsh season, and our thin tunics barely keep the cold at bay." He gestured to their worn and threadbare attire, casting an amicable expression meant to put the tailor at ease. "No need to worry about coin today. We can pay and expect a fair deal—no swindling, alright?"
Remi's demeanor softened, relieved by the forthright nature of Viktor's assurance. "Of course," he agreed, his voice relaxing into a tone of genuine warmth now that his concerns were laid to rest.
Remi beckoned them forward, gesturing for them to present their current garments for inspection. "Let's see what we have here," he said, circling them thoughtfully as he assessed the state of their clothing. His expert eye landed first on Viktor’s garments, pausing with a nod. "This fabric is decent—a bit worn, but with some improvements, it should last you through the winter," he stated kindly. "As for your friend here"—he turned his attention to Arelos— "I’m afraid his clothes are beyond saving. But not to worry, we'll find something suitable."
Arelos shrugged, unperturbed by the assessment. "That’s alright. I expected as much," he said with pragmatic acceptance.
Remi nodded, clearly pleased by their understanding. "Very well. I suggest for both of you warmer tunics, some quality undergarments, and fur-lined boots," he said, his hands moving deftly among the fabric swatches. Pausing, he added thoughtfully, "You'll also need woolen cloaks to fend off the chill. A sturdy weave should keep you warm and last through the season."
They discussed options, fabrics, and styles, the tailor's attendant busily fetching selections from the shelves as Remi worked with practiced precision. The air buzzed with their negotiations, each side earnestly seeking a fair and satisfying exchange.
Finally, after a spirited round of haggling, they arrived at an agreement: one silver for each tunic, one silver and ten coppers for each pair of boots, and two silvers per cloak. With the addition of two wool blankets tossed in for extra warmth at Viktor’s insistence, they agreed on a final price of nine silvers, leaving them with three silvers and a handful of coppers as their remaining fortune.
Arelos looked visibly pained at the depletion of their newfound wealth, but Viktor placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, offering reassurance. "It's an investment," Viktor said, backing his words with an encouraging smile. "In ourselves and our comfort."
Remi, noticing the interplay between the two boys, smiled knowingly. "You'll find," he said, his voice tinged with the wisdom of experience, "that sometimes the greatest value is found in things that keep you warm and safe. Your journey will be all the easier for it."
Both Arelos and Viktor nodded, embracing Remi's words as a beacon of affirmation. With newfound anticipation of the upcoming days now properly outfitted for the winter, they thanked the tailor warmly, their spirits tethered to the promise of warmth and protection that these new garments offered.
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Leaving the tailor with their new clothes, Viktor and Arelos felt a tangible transformation, the worn edges of their past covered by the sturdy fabric that promised warmth and semblance of stability. The chill of winter no longer nipped as sharply at their toes, now shielded by fur-lined boots, and their bodies encased in snug layers.
Arelos carried the load of their belongings with a slight frown, his expression thoughtful as they made their way back onto the street. Their weighty investment lingered in his mind, casting a shadow over the lightness the day had hoped to maintain. "Fortunes seem to flit away," Arelos mused aloud, his eyes studying the passersby with a touch of frustration.
Viktor chuckled, unfazed by the observation. "It's just money," Viktor replied casually, adjusting the cloak around his shoulders, the material warming against the brisk wind. Yet, internally, Viktor pondered the differences in their perspectives. He had once lived a life where money flowed more freely, a stark contrast to Arelos's caution birthed from necessity. The realization that his view might become more aligned with Arelos's reality crept quietly into Viktor's musings.
They fell into a comfortable silence, each lost in the swirl of their thoughts as they navigated their way onto the familiar paths leading toward the quieter streets they often traveled. Their newly acquired garments brought an unspoken confidence to their steps, fortifying the bond of shared survival and camaraderie.
Viktor glanced sidelong at Arelos, trying to gauge his companion’s mood beneath the lingering shadow of earlier concerns.
Arelos seemed contemplative, his sharp mind dissecting the events of the day. Viktor appreciated his friend's acumen—a keen intellect that had surfaced time and again in situations that demanded reasoning beyond the mundane. There was potential in Arelos, untapped and largely unfettered—a resource capturing Viktor's thoughts.
As they ambled further, Viktor's mind spun with half-formed ideas and possibilities. Arelos’s intellect deserved more than the basics Viktor could provide through his own experiences; it warranted further enrichment, opportunities that extended beyond what Viktor had been able to cover.
Viktor walked alongside Arelos, his expression thoughtful and slightly enigmatic as an idea began to take root—one that might unlock more for his friend than he'd imagined possible. He turned to Arelos, a hint of excitement dancing in his eyes, though he hid his cards for now.
"I have an idea," Viktor announced, breaking the introspective quiet they shared. His voice carried a hint of mystery, a promise of plans yet unspoken. "About where we should head next."