The tailor looked up briefly as I entered, his focus quickly returning to the rich, dark cape in his hands. A small hole marred its left side, likely from an arrow. With careful precision, he threaded the needle, his glasses slipping to the edge of his nose as his sharp eyes honed in on the fabric.

I approached the counter and noticed my clothes hanging neatly on a wooden hanger next to him. They looked completely refreshed—every tear and fray gone, like they’d never been damaged in the first place. The man had clearly done good work.

“Morning,” I greeted, nodding toward the clothes. “I’m here for mine. That’s them, right?”

He gave a slight nod without looking up. “Yeah. Didn’t think you’d be this early. Just finished them a couple of minutes ago.”

“Hmm.” I reached for the hanger, inspecting the repair. “Thanks. You did a great job.”

“Don’t mention it, kid. Have a good one.”

“You too.”

With my freshly mended gear Phobe had given me in hand, I stepped out into the cool morning air. The rain had eased into a light drizzle, leaving the streets slick and reflective. For a moment, I considered stashing everything in my inventory, but I hesitated. Until I knew how common or unusual such magic was here, it seemed smarter to avoid drawing attention.

Seker was standing a short distance away, his back to me. He seemed absorbed in something happening further down the street. As I approached, I saw two men shouting at each other while a guard struggled to break them apart. One of them had a split lip, and a toppled market stall lay in ruins beside him.

“You’re back,” Seker said, glancing over his shoulder. “Didn’t even hear you.”

“What’s going on over there?” I asked, nodding toward the commotion.

“The guy with the busted lip got accused of being a… cannibal,” Seker explained grimly. “Apparently, he was a regular at Suzan’s tavern. But he’s denying it.”

“He probably didn’t even know they were serving human meat.” I said with a dull voice.

“Yeah… still, disgusting. I can’t imagine it. Glad I never stepped foot in that place.”

“Hmm,” I murmured, trying not to think about it.

Seker shook off his disgust and turned back to me. “So, what’s your plan now?”

“I’ll drop these back in my room and head to school.”

He hesitated, then asked, “Wanna tag along for a bit? My mom’s house is just around the corner.”

“I’m not great with parents. Thanks for the offer, though.”

“Come on, man.” He groaned, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t want to go there alone. Just come with me.”

I sighed, sensing he wasn’t going to let this go. “Fine. Lead the way.”

“You’re a legend,” he said, visibly relieved. “Let’s go.”

We walked past the tailor shop and turned a corner. Rows of quaint houses lined the narrow street, their cobblestone facades giving the area a rustic charm. The road itself was just wide enough for two carriages to pass. Randomly placed trees punctuated the scene, their branches stretching across rooftops or hanging low over the path.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

As someone used to the sprawling urban chaos of my world—towering concrete buildings and endless pavement—this kind of peaceful, organic layout was almost foreign to me. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d seen a tree back home.

“Hey,” I said, breaking the silence. “Do you guys have anything like… an inventory spell? A way to stash stuff magically?”

Seker gave me a confused look. “You mean, like a magical bag? Never heard of anything like that.”

“Hmm. Gotcha,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral.

After another minute of walking, Seker came to a stop in front of a modest house. Its wooden shutters were closed, but the light from inside gave it a warm, inviting glow. Someone was definitely inside, because the shadows on the curtains were moving.

“This is the place,” he said, his voice low.

“Excited?” I asked, my tone monotone.

He shook his head. “Nah. I just don’t want to see that man’s face. But… but I have to. For my mom.”

“Let’s get this over with, then.”

He nodded, straightened his posture, and knocked on the door. “Right…”

We stepped back a little and waited, watching as the shadow on the curtain shifted before disappearing entirely. The sound of uneven footsteps followed—slow and uneven, with pauses between every couple of steps. Whoever was inside moved carefully, almost hesitantly.

The door creaked open, revealing a frail-looking woman. Her short gray hair framed a kind face, and her large brown eyes sparkled with warmth despite the weariness they carried. Seker’s mother couldn’t have been more than fifty, but her movements were unsteady. Her expression brightened immediately when she saw her son, and she pulled the door open fully.

“Seker!” she exclaimed, stepping forward for a hug. Her voice was soft but filled with delight. “I didn’t expect you this early!”

“Hey, Mom,” Seker replied, wrapping his arms around her gently. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” she said, pulling back slightly to look him over. “And you? You look well.”

“I’m alright,” he said with a small smile before gesturing toward me. “Mom, this is my friend Axel. Axel, my mom, Helena.”

“Hello, ma’am,” I said with a polite nod.

“Oh, hello, Axel,” she said warmly, her eyes briefly scanning me. “Well, don’t just stand there, boys. Come inside. I just set the table for breakfast.”

“Uh, actually, we were just going to—” Seker started, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Nonsense,” Helena interrupted, her tone firm but gentle. “You’re not leaving without eating first. Come on in.”

He sighed, giving me an apologetic look. “You hungry, Axel?”

“Not really,” I said, shifting the bundle of clothes in my arms. “I should take these back to my room before they get soaked.”

“Ah, he’s just being shy,” Seker teased, grabbing my arm and pulling me inside despite my protests. “You’re eating, too.”

The house was modest and cozy. The kitchen was at the back, its white-tiled floor contrasting with the dark brown tiles covering the rest of the space. To the left was a small but inviting living room, and to the right stood a rectangular dining table near a window. Plates of food were already laid out—fresh tomatoes, cheese, bread, and vegetables, with a small bowl of steaming boiled eggs in the center.

“Sit, boys,” Helena said, heading toward the cabinets. “I’ll grab a couple more plates.”

“I’ve got it,” Seker said quickly, moving to the kitchen. “You sit down, Mom. I’ll take care of it.”

She gave him a grateful smile and sank into the chair at the head of the table. “Such a sweet boy,” she murmured before turning her attention to me. “So, Axel, are you staying in the boys’ dormitory or do you live with your parents?”

“Boys’ dormitory, ma’am,” I replied, sitting down on one of the empty chairs.

“With Seker, Leo, and Aiden?”

“No,” I explained. “I have my own room. It’s small, but it works for me.”

“Oh, I see,” she said, her tone curious but kind. “And your parents? Do they live nearby?”

I hesitated briefly. “They passed away a long time ago,” I lied. “I live on my own.”

Her expression softened, and she leaned forward slightly. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright,” I said, my voice steady.

“Alright, plates are here,” Seker announced, returning with two in hand. He placed them on the table and grinned. “Let’s eat.”

Helena’s eyes sparkled as she began passing the food around. “Well, then,” she said with a smile, “dig in, boys. It’s not much, but I hope it’s enough.”