Days went by—similar, yet never the same. Each morning, the house filled with a little more life.
Mie was up before sunrise, her ears still crumpled by sleep. She padded downstairs barefoot, dragging a bucket of water she could barely lift, and set upon the hearth with a seriousness that demanded respect. Her first fires were chaotic, but with Terence's patient corrections, she managed to spark a flame faster each day.
Nyala, for her part, wandered into the common room yawning wide enough to unhinge her jaw, then stretched like a cat. Without warning, she would flop down on the bench beside Terence, pressing against his arm."Mmm… smells like warm wood. Better than an inn full of snorers."
Terence grumbled weakly, but he always ended up smiling.
Between Nyala's hunts and foraging trips with Mie, the inn began to settle into a rhythm. Terence, meanwhile, kept experimenting. He cobbled together tools from the inn's debris: a repaired old knife, a bent ladle straightened, small clay jars scrubbed clean for his preparations. His movements grew surer day by day, buoyed by his invisible skill. Every failed attempt became a step toward success.
He also tried turning the gathered fruit into compotes, dried slices, and jellies. Failures piled up, but so did progress. After a few days, he had several decent pots, and even Nyala had to admit as she nibbled a piece,"Hey, at least it doesn't look like mud. That's already a win."
Mie loved the sweets. She puffed out her rabbit cheeks, bit down with care, and giggled every time the jelly jiggled.
At night by the fire, Terence watched his companions with a new feeling: this was no longer just shared survival—it was a home. But he knew it wouldn't last if he couldn't contribute beyond their walls.
One evening, he spoke up."I think it's time I try my luck in Orvenne."
Mie's ears snapped upright, eyes sparkling."The city? We're going to see the city?"
Nyala, elbow on the bench, twirled her spoon."You sure? Markets are full of sharks. They scent newcomers the way wolves scent a rabbit."
Terence clenched his jaw."Exactly. We can't hide forever. We need to sell something—my preparations, my repairs, anything. We have to exist outside this house."
Nyala looked at him, her teasing smile fading for once, replaced by rare gravity."Alright. Tomorrow, we go."
The next day, the forest broke to reveal Orvenne. From afar, gray walls rose—sober but imposing, topped with square towers. As they drew near, the city's sound swelled into a living rumble: hooves on stone, voices calling, merchants' cries.
Mie clung to Terence's hand, ears perked in excitement. Her eyes darted everywhere, hungry to see it all: stalls piled with fruit, baskets of herbs, gleaming tools. Every smell—warm bread, tanned leather, salted fish—made her start.
Nyala strode ahead with confidence, greeting a few familiar faces from a distance. At the gate, she flashed her adventurer's badge and they passed without trouble.
Terence's heart pounded. It was all new, but strangely familiar: he'd seen markets in his old world, but never with this intensity. Everything felt closer, rougher, more real.
They started by trying to sell his jellies and dried fruit. The first merchant waved them off without tasting. The second snickered,"Pretty colors… who'd pay for that?"
The third, more direct, offered a pittance."I'll take the lot for one Scael. No more."
Heat rose in Terence's cheeks, but he kept his temper. Nyala set a reassuring hand on his shoulder."It's normal. They test you. Hold firm."
They persisted. At last, a more curious fruit seller agreed to taste. He chewed slowly, brows climbing in surprise."Not bad. Keeps well?"
"Yes," Terence answered curtly.
"Then I'll take a small batch."
It wasn't much—only a few Scael—but it was a sale. A real one.
Mie bounced, ears trembling with excitement."We sold! We sold!"
Terence wore a faint smile, but his heart raced. The first stone had been laid.
As they wandered the streets, Terence stopped at a discreet stall. An old merchant sat behind a table displaying small stones set in metal. Some glowed faintly blue, others red, others with a pale white light.
"Magic stones," Nyala explained. "Nothing fancy, but reliable."
Terence stepped closer, fascinated. He picked one up: a blue stone that breathed a gentle coolness. Another, red, pulsed with a mild heat.
The merchant's tired gaze fixed on him."Water stone. Fire stone. For a kitchen, a bath, a bit of light. Won't cast spells, but perfect for a house. Three Drenn each."
Terence hesitated. That was far beyond what he'd earned. He thought of the inn's washroom—the cracked basin, Mie shivering under cold water, Nyala joking about their dust smell. He wanted to say yes, but his throat tightened.
Before he could speak, Nyala set a few coins on the table without blinking."We'll take them," she said simply.
The merchant nodded, took the pay, and wrapped the stones.
On the way back, Terence ground his teeth."You paid for everything."
Nyala shrugged."So what? My guild jobs bring enough. You're building a home. We're even."
"No," he said firmly. "I want to contribute. For Mie. For you too. We can't rely only on you."
She shot him a sideways look, a crooked smile returning."You're stubborn. Good. But remember this: it's not 'me' or 'you.' It's us."
He turned away, unable to hide the warmth rising to his cheeks.
They walked on. A little shop pulled Mie like a magnet. Colored wooden toys and roughly sewn plush animals lined a table. Her eyes fixed on a small beige cloth rabbit. She froze, unable to look away.
"Do you want it?" Terence asked gently.
Mie nodded, then immediately backed off, cheeks red."It's… too pretty."
The old shopkeeper smiled."Oh, don't make that face, little one. They're made for arms like yours. And you," she added, looking them over, "you make a lovely family."
The word struck like an arrow. Terence felt his ears burn. Nyala opened her mouth, but no words came. Mie hid her face in her sleeve, scarlet.
"A… family," Terence stammered.
The shopkeeper nodded, certain."You can tell right away. You've got that light about you."
Nyala finally gathered herself and folded her arms."We'll take it," she said simply.
Terence pulled out a few Scael—his very first hard-earned coins, precious as gold to him. He handed them to the shopkeeper with solemn gravity, as if sealing something.
The plush passed into Mie's arms. She squeezed it at once, ears trembling, eyes shining with held-back tears."Thank you… thank you…"
As they walked away, Terence exhaled,"I managed to pay for that. But the rest…"
Nyala bumped his shoulder, smirking."Don't worry. I'll handle the big purchases. But that one—that's your victory. Your very first sale turned into a gift. Be proud of it."
Terence lowered his gaze, unable to hide the smile tugging at his lips.
As they left the stall behind, a familiar voice called to Nyala."Hey, Caracal! Still alive?"
Nyala spun, ears twitching. A big guy shouldered through the crowd with confident strides. His bulk filled the alley; his massive arms seemed about to split his shirt. A scar ran from temple to cheek, but his grin was open.
"Rovan," Nyala called, amused. "Haven't melted since last time, I see."
"Melted?" the man snorted, patting his broad chest. "I call it maintenance. Gotta stay impressive or my girl will mock me."
His gaze finally fell on Terence and Mie, lingering on Terence's shirt and Mie's too-long dress. His brows rose."Well now… I recognize my old clothes!"
Nyala flicked a hand as confirmation."I didn't lie, did I? Told you they'd find a new home."
Rovan laughed, a hand on his hip."I see that!" (He jerked his chin at Terence.) "On you, kid, they almost look classy. And on the little one, they turn her into a young lady. Better than on us."
Mie blushed, squeezing Terence's hand, ears pressed flat. Caught off guard, Terence dipped a small bow."Thank you… truly."
"Bah, forget it," Rovan said, waving it off. "My daughter grew; they were lying around. Might as well be used." (He clapped Nyala's shoulder.) "As always, you can sniff out who needs what."
Nyala wore a satisfied smile."Hunter's instinct."
Rovan chuckled, then squinted, amused."So this your little family, Nyala? Finally settled down?"
The words dropped like a stone in a pond. Terence choked on his own saliva, Nyala opened and closed her mouth, Mie went crimson, ears pinned.
"W—What?! Hold on!" Nyala sputtered, cheeks red. "It's not what you think, you oaf!"
"Hey now," Rovan laughed, hands up. "I say it 'cause you've got the look of a trio who knows each other by heart."
Nyala crossed her arms, tail lashing the air."…Idiot."
Terence said nothing, cheeks burning, unable to meet the big man's eyes.
Rovan's good humor returned as if nothing happened."Anyway, won't keep you. If you need more old clothes or good tips, Nyala, you know where to find me."
He waved warmly and lumbered off, swallowed by the crowd.
An awkward quiet fell. Terence gripped the fabric of his shirt without thinking, heart a little tight."…So that's where these came from."
Nyala shrugged, smile back in place."Nothing goes to waste. And admit it—it suits you."
He looked away, embarrassed, under Nyala's bright laugh.
Back at the inn, Terence went straight to work. In the old washroom, he fitted the water stone into the cracked conduit, then set the fire stone near the basin. At first, nothing. Then a gurgle. Water burst forth—clear and cool—slowly filling the basin. The fire stone wrapped it in a gentle warmth.
"It works," Terence breathed, incredulous.
Mie rushed in, eyes shining. She plunged her hands into the hot water and squealed,"Not cold! Not cold!"
Nyala let out an admiring whistle."Not bad, handyman. You just installed luxury baths for us."
She added with a teasing grin,"Wanna test them with us?"
Terence choked and went scarlet, which set Nyala laughing aloud.
Already splashing, Mie dragged Nyala into the basin. They came out later still laughing, soaked, hand in hand, hair plastered to their faces.
That evening they ate together in the common room. The house's air felt lighter, as if it breathed easier. Mie fell asleep quickly—clean, full, ears drooping. Nyala stretched with a satisfied sigh."I think we really have a home now."
Terence watched the fire. It wasn't a great feat. Not a dramatic victory. But it was a true beginning.
On his balcony, he looked toward Orvenne's distant lights. This time, he wasn't afraid. He would go back.