The room was bare stone, the air cool enough to seep through Rhys's chair. A single table sat between him and the two people watching him.
Two guards flanked the door, standing so still they could have been carved from the same rock.
The armored man across from him spoke first. His tone was steady, deliberate, every word clipped like it was sharpened.
Rhys didn't understand a single one.
The woman beside him, dressed in green robes, followed with a lighter voice, though her cadence was just as precise.
Rhys blinked. "…Yeah, I have no idea what either of you just said."
They both paused. The man's brow furrowed, the woman tilted her head, studying him.
"Look," Rhys tried again, gesturing vaguely, "there's been some kind of—"
The armored man cut him off, speaking briskly in his own tongue. The woman answered in kind, their words quick and tight.
"…Right. This is going well," Rhys muttered.
The two exchanged a glance, the kind that said he's not getting a word of this.
The woman sighed, reached into her satchel, and drew out a faintly glowing crystal.
Rhys eyed it warily. "…And that's supposed to—"
Before he could finish, she held it toward him. The light flared, sending a sudden spike of pain behind his eyes. He winced, clutching the table.
When the glow dimmed, her voice came through in perfect, unbroken clarity. "Can you understand us now?"
"…Yeah," Rhys said, still rubbing his temple. "Guess so."
"Good." The armored man straightened in his seat. "Let's start over. I'm Captain Darius Veylan, city watch."
"Selene Ardyn. Mage, guild-registered," the woman added.
Rhys hesitated. Even giving his name felt like a risk. "…Rhys, Rhys Morren."
Darius gave a short nod. "Alright, Rhys. First question, are you from here?"
"Sure… yeah."
A small brass disk on the table pulsed blue.
Rhys frowned. "What was that?"
"A lie detector charm," Selene said evenly. "Care to try again?"
"…No. I'm not from here."
"Is it far?" Darius asked.
"Yeah. Far."
"From the west?"
"Yeah—" The disk pulsed again.
Rhys sighed. "…Further."
Selene's gaze sharpened. "Another continent?"
He stayed silent.
Then her tone shifted, soft, almost casual. "Another world?"
The question hit like a blade tip. Rhys's chest tightened, sweat prickling along his hairline. His heartbeat pounded in his ears.
Shit. Shit.
His mouth felt dry. He could almost picture the next step being chains.
"Are you a Traverser?" she asked.
He froze.
Selene's voice eased, though her eyes didn't soften. "Relax. I'm also one."
His head jerked up. "…You are?"
She gave the smallest smile. "Yup. Been here for years now. So… are you one too?"
"…Yeah."
The air in the room shifted. Darius's shoulders lost some of their stiffness.
From there, they moved on to smaller questions, nothing dangerous. Rhys kept his answers clipped, never offering more than he had to.
Finally, Darius reached under the table and placed a leather pouch between them. The weighty clink it made was unmistakable.
"This was found in the alley with you,"
Darius said. "Is it yours?"
"Yes."
"Where did you get it?"
Rhys stayed silent.
Darius's tone cooled. "Did you steal it?"
"No."
"Obtained it in illegal means?"
"I hope not."
The brass disk stayed dim.
Darius studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Then it's yours. You're free to go."
"Oh and the rest of the coins are in the back," he added.
"Oh, you can keep it," Rhys said casually.
There was a pause.
A long one.
Then Darius slowly pushed back his chair and stood. His armor clinked as he drew himself up to full height, one hand pressed dramatically to his chest.
"Such generosity…" he said, voice deep with feeling. "To part with wealth so freely… Rhys, NO! Lord Rhys hear me now—"
Selene groaned. "Oh no, here we go."
"—I, Darius Veylan, swear my life to you! From this day until my last breath, my sword, my shield, are yours to command!"
He dropped to one knee with a clang, head bowed.
Rhys stared. "Uh… thanks?"
Selene pinched the bridge of her nose. "Darius, get up. You're scaring him."
The guards moved to open the door. Rhys rose slowly.
"I'll be off then..." still unsure if it was truly over.
Selene caught up to him in the hall, lowering her voice. "Hey wait up... you're still new here. And I've been where you are. The first few months will be hell, you'll need to figure out where to sleep, who to trust, and how not to starve. And avoid the wrong streets. They don't like strangers."
She hesitated, then pulled another glowing crystal from her satchel. "Here. Keep it. It'll help with… conversations."
"...thanks."
"Anyway I'll return the gold to you at a later date."
"No please, I insist that you keep it."
Her brows rose. "But thats far too much—"
"Keep it."
"As I said it's way too much—"
"Keep it, please..." he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Selene met his eyes for a moment before slipping it into her satchel with a reluctant sigh. "…Fine. But you're making me feel bad here."
He gave the faintest smirk. "Call it a thank you."
With that, he walked away, the crystal warm in his palm, still unsure whether he'd just made an ally… or painted a target on his back.
.
.
.
The streets were already fading into night, lanterns casting warm pools of light between stretches of shadow.
Rhys didn't get far before two familiar shapes appeared from a side alley, the boy and girl he'd helped earlier.
"Hi Mister!," the boy said with a grin.
Rhys nodded. "Oh… it's you two. How've you been?"
"We're fine, thanks to you."
"Glad to hear it. Think you could point me to an inn?"
"Yeah," the boy said quickly. "Follow us."
They wound through narrow streets.
"Do you live around here?" Rhys asked.
"Sort of," the boy said. "There's a church, but too many kids."
"Too many?"
The girl nodded. "One meal a day. Sometimes not even that. So… we come out here."
"Begging," Rhys said.
"It's better than stealing," the boy replied with a shrug.
That earned the faintest smile from Rhys. "Yeah. It is."
A few turns later, they stopped in front of a squat timber building with light spilling from its windows. A crescent moon was painted on the sign above the door.
"That's the Moon's Rest," the girl said. "It's the best inn around."
"I see, thanks, you two," Rhys said.
They started to turn away, but he stopped them with a quiet, "Hold up."
He reached into his pouch and counted five gold coins into the boy's hand. Both of them stared like he'd just handed over the crown jewels.
"Keep it a secret," he said. "Don't flash it around. So that no bad guys will take it from you again."
The boy nodded quickly, curling his fingers tight over the coins. The girl beamed up at him.
"Thanks, mister!" she whispered.
Rhys just waved them off before heading inside the inn.
Inside, the Moon's Rest smelled of spiced stew, baked bread, and faint woodsmoke. The common room hummed with chatter and the clink of mugs, a fire snapping in the hearth.
Rhys paused just inside the door, hand resting on his pouch. Back then, expensive meant splurging on name-brand instant noodles. Here… he had more gold than he knew what to do with.
For a second, the safe choice whispered in his ear, cheapest bed, plain food, keep his head down.
Then he smirked to himself. Screw it. I'm here now.
He stepped to the counter. "Your most expensive room. And your best meal."
The woman behind the counter raised an eyebrow, still wiping down a mug.
Rhys reached into his pouch and dropped ten gold coins onto the polished wood with a soft clink. "I hope this will suffice?"
The sound carried. A few nearby conversations faltered.
The mug froze mid-polish. Her eyes went wide, then her whole posture straightened like she'd just realized royalty had walked in.
"Of course, sir. For a sum like this, you'll have our Royal Suite. And for dinner, I'll have the chef prepare our signature roast boar with truffle glaze. It will be ready shortly."
Rhys fought the urge to laugh at how fast her tone flipped, instead giving a small nod like this was normal for him. "Sounds perfect."
"Please, sir, make yourself comfortable. I'll bring your key personally."
He picked a table near the wall, leaning back in his chair as if he belonged there, eyes roaming the room. It felt like a dream.
It didn't take long before not one, but two attendants appeared, both moving with the kind of quiet efficiency that made Rhys sit a little straighter in his chair. One set down a tall glass of something cold and sweet, the other presented him with a key on a silver tray.
"Your room is prepared, sir," one said with a small bow. "A bath has been drawn. We'll see to your clothes while you relax."
Rhys blinked. A bath already waiting? He wasn't about to argue.
They led him upstairs to a spacious room, far bigger than anything he'd stayed in before. Steam curled from behind a folding screen where a wide copper tub sat filled with fragrant water.
He stepped behind the screen, already reaching for his shirt when the door creaked. Two maids slipped in without hesitation, each carrying neatly folded towels.
Rhys froze. "Uh—"
Before he could finish, one knelt to set the towels down while the other began rolling up her sleeves.
"Please, sir, allow us," she said gently.
Rhys felt heat creep up his neck. This was… not what he was used to. But maybe this was normal here? Rich people probably had this kind of thing all the time. Right?
So he sat, trying not to look too awkward as they worked, scrubbing, rinsing, pouring warm water over his shoulders. By the time they stepped back, he felt cleaner than he had in years.
Fresh clothes awaited him, soft, light, and perfectly fitted. Dinner followed soon after, a feast of roasted meat, buttery bread, and sweet glazed vegetables, served right in his room. One of the maids even fed him a few bites with a polite smile, which he tried to accept like it was completely normal.
By the time the plates were cleared away, Rhys was warm, full, and sinking into the thickest mattress he'd ever touched. The blankets were soft enough to disappear into, the pillow cool against his cheek.
He let out a slow breath, staring at the ceiling.
"What a day," he murmured, and then sleep took him before he could think of anything else.