He wiped tears from his face and removed himself from the bed. No one else in the world knew it was his birthday, and honestly, he would rather keep it that way. For now at least. All of the thinking he did the night before led him to a decision that he was not exactly excited about. Yori would resign himself to pretending everything was okay. He would bury all of the negative feelings he had and try and start a new life. Besides, his family would want him to move on and try and make something of himself.

As he headed towards the door of the inn to make his journey to the farm to help out again, he heard a deep voice call his name.

“Yori, come here a minute, I have something for you.”

He turned to see the Innkeeper waving at him. His hair was covered with a beige bandanna, a green apron adorned his torso as he prepared breakfast. The alluring smell of fried potatoes and rosemary drifted through the room. Yori’s stomach grumbled. He did not even realize that he had forgotten to eat dinner last night, and he was on the verge of skipping breakfast as well.

The Innkeeper reached under the counter in front of him and pulled out a pouch. By the sound of it the bag was full of coins. He dropped it on the wood counter in front of Yori. The noise attracted the attention of a few of the patrons, glancing over at the pair.

“It’s from the Guild Master. 50 copper coins. That should be enough for a change of clothes, and a few meals.”

Yori’s first instinct was to refuse the money.

More handouts? But I have no money yet and I do need some new clothing… These ones that I got from the Guild are too big, and the only other ones I have are bloodstained and torn… and depressing.

He inspected the clothing he had on, noting that he had worked and slept in this same outfit. Reluctantly, Yori extended his hand and picked the pouch up off the counter, thanking the Innkeeper. He felt forced to take it out of necessity, but at the same time was uncomfortable with incurring an even greater debt. The more he was given, the more it weighted on his shoulders.

I just have to pay it back, with interest. Then it’ll be alright.

The merchant quarter of the city was a sight to behold. There were stores lining the streets on either side of him. Stalls took up all the space between their doors. Looking around Yori was overwhelmed by colours he had never seen, objects he did not understand and price tags that his entire village could not afford. Clothing, baubles, weapons, food, so many of them Yori was unfamiliar with. People filtered between the storefronts, looking for the next treasure to take home. A man dressed in ornate purple robes bartered loudly with a vendor selling what looked like elegantly carved pipes to Yori’s right, likely made of the horns of various monsters. He scanned the aisles, trying to make sense of the mill of people and products. A slender woman ran past him and bumped his left shoulder, a bag of coin jingled in her hand. Yori apologized to the woman, but she did not break her pace, continuing her way towards one of the stores.

Yori glanced up at the store she had ran in to. A wood sign hung above the door, dangling perpendicular to the storefront by a metal chain. A sword emblazoned the majority of the sign. The name “Jorgga’s Weaponry” was burned into the wood below the carved image. This caught his attention as the sun reflected off the silver painted blade, reminding him of the past few days. His desire for strength had been so strong, but he was just a Villager after all. Like the Guild Master had reminded him, he was not born with any special talent or natural strength. Everyone kept telling him it would be next to impossible for him to ever fight in a skilled way with these weapons. He came to terms with the fact that this was all a stress dream of being born into a different reality. Yori wished his subconscious would stop pretending he could be something great.

“Boy, you’re in the way. Please step aside.”

Yori jumped, caught off guard as he had gotten lost in his head daydreaming. Turning around he understood that he was blocking the path of a horse-drawn cart. He apologized yet again and stepped out of the way. The wooden cart was simple, with two large wheels on either side that creaked as they rolled across the stone road. As it passed him, Yori sharply drew in a small breath as he saw a scaled foot with claws draped over the side. This person was transporting monster corpses to be dismantled. Yori had never seen this before. He was aware that many of the materials he used every day had been harvested from monsters. The most useful part of the monsters were the cores. These cores could be enchanted with spells, and were what protected cities and towns, and villages such as him hometown. Yori started getting lightheaded at the potential of what the slain monsters could become.

One of the cart’s wheels hit a piece of the cobblestone road that was protruding from the ground slightly, jostling the soulless passengers. Another limp arm fell to dangle over the side, previously buried by its companions. It was a small green arm, an arm very similar to one he saw every time he closed his eyes.

A cold sweat broke out on Yori’s face. His eyes went wide as his heart started racing. It suddenly felt like a rubber band was around Yori’s chest as he struggled to breathe. In the back of his mind, he could hear his own voice screaming to run and hide. He fell to his knees, hitting the stone hard with his shins. Yori lurched forward, grasping at his hair and pulling as if trying to yank the fear from his head as he gasped for air. The atmosphere was dense around him as he felt like he was drowning, being pulled deeper from reality. Horrifying images berated Yori, unwilling to let him be.

“Are you ok!?”

The proprietor of the weapon shop ran over to Yori, placing a hand inn the boy’s hunched back. The touch more than the words brought Yori back to remember himself and his surroundings. He looked up at the shopkeeper, who had shock and concern on his face. The man reached out a hand to help Yori up, but the boy was thinking of some advice he had received.

“There are always multiple paths. Don’t always look to the same place.”

“Nothing beats hard work, patience, and the accomplishments that come with them.”

“What do you have for 50 copper?”

I may not be able to be an Adventurer to become strong, but I can become strong to be an Adventurer.

Yori had decided. He would fight. He would become strong by his own effort and hard work. He would work as long and hard as it took to accomplish his goals. Just like farming where the harvest came after months of hard work, so too would his strength. Other people may be born with power granted to them by the Gods at birth, but that just meant going down that road would be more difficult for someone like Yori. He would have to apologize to the Rutherfords and the Guildmaster for abandoning such a gift as a well-paying job.

Jorgga made a slight grimace as he contemplated that small sum of money. Although a lot of money to Yori, 50 copper was not going to buy you much as far as a weapon went.

“Let’s see what we can come up with.”

The man reached out his hand and helped Yori to his feet. Staggering slightly, Yori followed close behind and entered the weapon shop with gusto. As he looked around Yori was once again disheartened by the prices he saw. There was one that caught Yori’s attention though. A small dagger. The hilt was simple and wooden, and the blade held no ornate carvings, but it looked sharp, and that is what mattered. In fact, it looked much like the kitchen knife he had slain the goblin with. Perhaps it was the fact that he slew a creature with one once before that he almost felt comfort from seeing the humble weapon. It called to Yori as if it wanted him as much as he wanted it. Yori inspected it but could not find a price on it. Jorgga caught Yori eyeing up the dagger. He walked over, smiling at Yori, picked it up, and began polishing it as his typical post-purchase practice. He looked up from his work and eyed Yori’s appearance, seemingly scrutinizing his apparel.

“You don’t seem to have a holster for this weapon. Here, you should probably buy this leather holster to attach to your belt to make this weapon easier to carry around.”

“But sir, I don’t have much money. I’m really sorry, but I don’t know if I afford this.”

“The dagger is 48 copper pieces, the holster is 3.”

“I’ll just take the knife, I only have 50 copper.”

The man waved the towel in his hand he was using to clean Yori’s new weapon towards the boy.

“You can have both for 50 copper pieces. Just put it to good use, alright?”

Jorgga continued cleaning the blade and oiled the wood hilt to protect it while humming a tune. Yori knew he was getting more pity, mostly based on his appearance this time, but was grateful to the shop owner. It cost him every coin he had; he would have to make money today or go hungry. He also made a mental note to return here and pay back the one copper he owed. It may be much to the shopkeeper, but Yori was resolute in his vow to pay everyone back what they had given him.

Bolstered with a new determination to succeed, he headed for the gates of the city. He would once again pass through the barrier and into the world he had only been in twice before. He would become an Adventurer no matter what, even though it meant willingly throwing himself into danger.

It was still early in the day as he set out towards the blue sheen given off by the city’s enormous barrier. The trees and tall grasses seemed muddled behind the azure haze. As Yori stepped beyond it, much to the chagrin of the guards, he processed the scenery around him that he had not had time to notice when he first entered the city of Esaron. To the North was the forest that he had run through in his mad dash to save his village. To the East and West were plains. Much of them had been converted to farmland. To the South of the city were rolling, forested hills that lead to the mountains, barely visible on the horizon. On a clear day they stood as ghostly visages to remind everyone how small they really were in this world.

Yori had taken several things into consideration before deciding on which direction to go. He remembered the eyes in the forest and the feeling of being watched, maybe even stalked. It sent shivers down his spine just thinking about it and quickly ruled out the forest. Plus it was easier to trip if he needed to run due to the ground litter and roots. The hills to the South were dangerous as well as he would have less visibility from potential attacking monsters, so Yori decided to remain in the untilled plains to find something to fight. It felt more comfortable anyways, more like a farm.

The sun warmed the breeze that drifted through the fields, brushing the hair from Yori’s forehead. He crept cautiously through the plains, one foot in front of the other with his knees slightly bent. The dagger he purchased was ready in his right hand. He held it out in front of him in preparation for the worst. Around midday he spotted a familiar sight. One that gave him a mixture of fear and excitement. A little white rabbit hopped lazily about. That is, a little white rabbit with antlers on its head. It was just like the monster he had run from with his best friend. Yori once again faced a jackalope.

He gripped his dagger a little tighter and crouched lower to the ground. He had felt powerless against the creature when he faced it before, but now he was prepared amd armed. Yori was aware that while he and other Villagers feared the monstrous jackalopes, Adventurers saw them as simply pests. This seemed like the perfect first step in becoming a real Adventurer.

Hoping to get the jump on the monster, Yori got as low as he could go while still on two feet, and slowly stepped towards the jackalope. His slow, deliberate movements made very little sound to his human ears. Although he did his best to be silent, the creature twitched one of its large, highly sensitive ears in his direction. Panicking, Yori took half a step backwards, carelessly causing the grass to rustle below his foot. The rabbit-like creature’s head snapped to attention, quickly spinning to face Yori. Its powerful back legs instantly propelled it into a pounce. Before Yori could react the jackalope smashed into his left shoulder, knocking him to the ground. He fell backwards, the grass cushioning his back’s collision with the terrain.

Yori’s heart jumped into his throat at the familiarity of his current situation. As he lost his nerve, he scrambled to his stomach and faced the monster. His shoulder throbbed in pain. Yori resisted the urge to grab it, keeping his stance with his dagger trained on the creature. It was cocking its body back again.

I was wrong, I can’t fight this thing! It’s just like last time! Should I run?