The shared room in the church was a tapestry of rustic charm, with the scent of aged oak and beeswax candles lingering in the air and every wooden beam worn smooth by generations of use.

Asdras and Brian lay sprawled across their respective beds, blankets haphazardly rumpled. The soft candlelight danced upon the wooden walls, casting a warm glow that traced the labyrinthine cracks and crevices in the oak, while the distant murmur of morning prayers whispered through the air, wrapping the room in a cloak of rigged monotony.

Father Joe entered the room with measured steps. His presence was like a soothing balm, and his eyes crinkled in a benevolent smile as he cleared his throat, his voice carrying a fatherly tone.

"Good morning, lads," he greeted them. "I'm afraid you two are late for the coffee break."

Asdras stirred from his slumber, stretching his limbs languidly and releasing a groggy yawn. Brian, on the other hand, responded with a soft snort before rubbing his eyes and grumbling. 

"Coffee break already? It feels like we just hit the sack."

"Well, time waits for no one, my boys." Joe chuckled warmly. "And by the smell of it, I'd say a quick dip in the river wouldn't hurt before heading to the pub."

Brian's eyes sparkled with anticipation as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. 

Asdras, a bit more reserved, rose from his bed, his movements deliberate as he stretched his body and felt the stiffness of sleep melt away.

"I suppose a dip in the river would freshen us up," he admitted.

"Here you go, lads. Don't forget to scrub behind your ears," Joe handed them each a piece of cloth crafted from fur and rough-spun fabric, suitable for drying off after bathing.

The friends nodded in agreement, taking the clothes and draping them over their shoulders. They exchanged a glance, and a playful, knowing smile passed between them as they remembered their promise from last night.

As they left the room and made their way toward the river, a jovial farmer greeted them with a hearty laugh. 

"Morning, lads! Off for a morning dip, are we?"

"Just aimin' to clear out the cobwebs, sir," Brian flashed a smile as he weaved his hand.

"And the barn smell from yesterday's chores," Asdras chimed in with a chuckle.

The farmer's laughter resonated through the morning air, his good-natured jests fading into the distance as the friends continued their leisurely walk to the river's edge.

Upon reaching the riverbank, Asdras cautiously dipped his toe into the water, his face contorting in a grimace.

"By the saints, it's freezing!"

Brian simply shrugged and plunged headfirst into the frigid waters, emerging with an exuberant laugh.

"A little cold never hurt anyone!"

Asdras, though initially resistant, soon joined in the cold waters, speeding up the scrubbing over his body. Brian took his time, washing away the weariness of the last night. The faint scratches of the nails formed a thin mark over the dead skin.

After their hushed bathing, they waded back to the riverbank, where they dried themselves with the clothes Father Joe had provided. The sun, now higher in the sky, bestowed warmth on their bodies, drying their skin and lifting their spirits.

"I could eat a cow now!" Asdras said as he couldn't help but pat his belly jokingly.

Brian chuckled and clapped his friend on the back. 

"Then let's hope the pub serves up a feast fit for two hungry lads like us!"

They pushed open the creaking wooden door to the pub, a rich and familiar aroma immediately enveloping them. It was a hearty scent, a mixture of sizzling pork fat, warm bread, and the ever-present hum of conversation. 

The interior of the pub was well-worn and rugged, with older tables and chairs, their surfaces marred by countless rings left by mugs and tankards.

A narrow balcony overlooked the main area, and scattered across it were bundles of paper, bottles of ales, herbs, and well-folded cloths.

A bell dangled above the balcony, a simple iron contraption that Asdras couldn't resist. He slapped his hand down on it, and the clear sound echoed through the pub, drawing a grin from him.

There was a thumb in the back, and Narder came through the curtains that led to the kitchen. He was a substantial man with a long, bushy beard that flowed like a waterfall from his chin. Narder's clothing, though simple, was clean and crisp. He wore light trousers, leather shoes, and a white cotton shirt with sleeves rolled up to reveal his thick forearms.

"Boys," he said with a patient smile. "Did you guys come just to play, or anything else?"

Brian and Asdras approached the counter, their faces breaking into grins as they greeted him. 

"Mornin', Narder! We're starvin' for some coffee," Brian said, his voice filled with mock desperation.

"Coffee break was an hour ago, boys," he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. "You know the deal. You can have some breakfast, but you'll be washing dishes after."

"Alright, Narder, you drive a hard bargain," Asdras said with a chuckle.

Narder went to work, moving behind the counter with practiced efficiency. He sliced thick pieces of bread, added two strips of smoky bacon, and placed a generous slab of ham on each plate. With a flourish, he poured fresh water into their mugs.

Soon, Brian and Asdras were seated at a table, their plates before them, devouring their breakfast.

As they ate, Father Joe entered the pub, spotting the boys and making his way over to their table. He greeted them with a warm smile, pulling up a chair to join them.

As they continued to eat, Joe observed them quietly, his gaze filled with a mixture of fondness and concern. The initial hunger that had driven them to devour their breakfast slowly faded, replaced by the growing discomfort of being watched. Both boys paused and glanced over at Father Joe.

Brian had crumbs of bread speckled around his mouth, and Asdras took a sip of water, his throat parched from the meal. Their questioning gazes converged on Father Joe, and they ventured to ask if there was something else on his mind.

"A piece of news, boys," Joe said as he leaned forward slightly. "Once you've had your fill of coffee, the two of you will be traveling for the city."

"Today?" Asdras asked as he almost drowned himself.

Brian's face revealed a mixture of excitement and concern. Leaving the village was a significant step, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of emotions at the prospect.

Joe chuckled lightly, breaking the tension. "Well, it's not as if you were born here, my boys. The opportunity you've been waiting for is upon us. In two weeks, you'll have a chance to enroll in either the Academy or the Military. It's time to take that step forward in life."

"That's true," Brian sighed. "I still recall the day we landed here, felt like a world away from home, way out in the boonies.."

"And you held your tongue for three whole weeks," Joe chuckled as he tapped his finger over the table. "All 'cause you were sore at me for picking you, way back when. But look at you now, can't seem to stop talking!"

"Cut off, pfft," Brian mumbled with his mouth full, hastily chewing on a piece of bacon. "Back then, I was just a young'un."

"Isn't like you're a adult now, Brian," Asdras winked with a smile at Joe. 

"You!" Brian exclaimed, pointing his finger at Asdras and Joe, his eyes wide as he spoke through a mouthful of food. "Both of y'all against me? That's hardly fair!"

"Manners, my lad," Joe gently tapped Brian's head. "Chow down first, and then talk."

As their conversation tapered off, Brian and Asdras polished off their meal, leaving behind cleaned plates that bore witness to their appetites. As they rose from their seats and headed toward the pub's exit, Joe's voice halted them.

"Don't forget to gather your things from your bedroom. I'll be waiting for you at the village entrance with Raffin."

Asdras sat on the edge of his bed, carefully packing his belongings into his backpack. He first folded a piece of cloth, pausing briefly to recollect the day he had arrived at the church, a memory filled with gratitude for Joe and Brian.

Then he gingerly placed his broken lute into the bag. The warm light streaming through the window highlighted the details of the instrument, and he attempted to summon memories of his past, but they remained elusive. With a sigh, he finished his packing and cast a glance over at his friend.

Brian, on the other hand, was in the midst of packing his own things. He neatly folded a piece of clothing and added an old book to his bag. The book bore the title "The Spells of the City — How to Charm a Lady with Spoken Words: A Guide for Newcomers to Formal Language."

"Still reading it?" 

"With words as honeyed as thine, good sir, thou wouldst surely win the favor of any noble maiden," Brian paused for effect. "Yo, good, right?"

"Surely is," Asdras avoided his gaze.

He concluded his packing and gazed at the final item in his hand, a silver-plated necklace with the letters spelling out his family's surname, "Crystallos."

Asdras, feeling the shift in Brian's mood, tapped his shoulder as he signed with a smile. "Let's go."

After they had both finished packing, they made their way to the entrance of the village, where Joe and Raffin awaited them near an old wagon. The wagon was weathered with a brown-haired horse harnessed to it, and bags of supplies were neatly arranged inside. A purplish herb adorned the beam of the wagon.

Curious, Asdras pointed at the herbs and asked Raffin about them.

With a warm smile, Raffin explained, "Ah, those are a traditional superstition among experienced travelers in the North. It's called Lillian, and it's believed to protect travelers from evil. Legend has it that the fabled empress Lillian swore to safeguard those on their journeys in her final words."

Asdras nodded, taking in the explanation. "That's fascinating. It's always interesting to learn about these traditions."

Brian, intrigued as well, chimed in, "Yep, I'm wondering if it really does the trick. Either way, it's a fine touch."

Joe called Asdras and Brian to his side, his weathered hands holding two items. He handed Asdras a sword with a slight pattern etched into the blade's edges, a common steel sword with an extra touch of craftsmanship. The hilt bore a faint yellow church cross, symbolizing faith and protection. Asdras marveled at the sword's simple elegance, its weight feeling reassuring in his hand.

"Oh!" Asdras eyes glinted as he examined the details. "Thank you, Joe!"

For Brian, Joe presented a retractable spear. When compacted, it resembled a dagger in size, but with a quick flick of the wrist, it extended to the dimensions of a standard spear. 

Brian admired the spear's ingenuity and practicality, making it an ideal weapon for a traveler.

With a warm smile, Joe gave them his final blessings, his voice carrying the weight of his hopes and wishes. "May you find success and fulfillment on your journey, my sons. Remember, you carry the spirit of this village with you."

Brian tightened his grip on the spear, looking earnestly at Joe. 

"Promise me you won't leave this world 'fore I get back. Wait for me to finish graduation and return, so you can tell the story of my mama!"

Joe chuckled, his eyes twinkling with warmth. "You have my word, my boy. But you better graduate in the first batch. I'm not getting any younger, you know."

Brian grinned, his determination renewed. "Deal. I'll make sure of it."

"Raffin," Joe smiled at him. "I'm counting on you, my son. May the blessings of Saint Rose guide and bless your journey."

"It's a deal!"

With their blessings exchanged, Asdras and Brian hopped onto the wagon, the wooden wheels creaking to life as they distanced themselves from the village. The figure of Father Joe and the familiar houses gradually faded into the distance, but their memories and promises remained etched in their hearts.