Chapter 22

Adam stepped out of his room and into the common area. He sent Faya out so he could get ready for the day. As he moved toward the table, he noticed Lafayette, or Faya, sitting at one of the benches. She was holding her hands nervously. Her clothes, though clean, were fraying at the edges. The fabric was thin, the seams barely holding together in places. It was clear she didn't have much, but she made do. Adam's heart gave a tug. He had made the right decision, even if it literally took divine intervention for him to do so; he chuckled at the thought.

He gave a small nod of acknowledgment as he took his seat across from her. "Are you hungry?"

Faya nodded eagerly, a little too quickly, as if she had been waiting for the offer. "Yes, sir. I'll eat whatever you have."

Adam smiled softly. "It's just breakfast, but it should be enough to get us through the morning." He motioned for the server who was bustling around behind the counter. The server brought over a simple meal of bread, cheese, and a bowl of porridge. The hearty meal was a far cry from the stuff Adam was forced to eat in the dungeon; his roots had provided enough for him, but he always had a craving for something more, so at times he tried eating the monsters, and each time he was rewarded with the worst-tasting stuff he could imagine. Adam, shaking off the memory, decided to enjoy his meal.

As they ate, Adam couldn't help but notice that Faya seemed distracted. She was picking at her food more than eating, her gaze occasionally drifting to the window, as if she were expecting something. Adam, not one to pressure, let her be. But he did notice the way her clothes pulled at the edges with every movement. It was clear she was going to need some new clothes, and soon.

Once breakfast was finished, Adam stood, wiping his hands on his pants. "I'll go speak to Lissa. I owe her an apology." He made his way over to the inn's other server, who was sitting behind the bar, looking a little wary but determined as she cleaned some mugs. 

"Hey, Lissa," Adam said, his tone more gentle than before. "I owe you an apology for what happened yesterday. I was out of sorts, and it was wrong of me to pull a knife on you. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."

Lissa glanced up at him, her eyes still guarded, but her expression softened slightly. "I appreciate the apology, Adam," she said quietly. "I don't know what's been going on with you since you came back, but you're a good man. Just... please, don't scare me like that again." Adam nodded, his expression sincere. He reached into his pouch and pulled out a handful of coppers. "Here, take this as a tip. It's the least I can do to make up for scaring you."

Lissa hesitated for a moment before accepting the coins, her eyes lingering on Adam's face, searching for something. Finally, she tucked the coppers into her apron and gave him a small, tentative smile. "Thanks, Adam. Now get out of here so I can help my other customers." 

He gave her a reassuring nod and turned back to Faya.

As he returned to the table, he found Faya still sitting there, her head slightly tilted as she watched the exchange between him and Lissa.

"Alright, Faya," Adam began, sitting down across from her. "We've got a busy day ahead. First things first, I'm going to open up my stall and offer my services. I'll be working with herbs and potions, and I'm going to need some help."

Faya's eyes lit up. "I'll do whatever you need, Adam. I'm ready."

Adam nodded, his gaze serious. "Good. You'll need to help with setting up, organizing the herbs, and handling the customers when they come by.

Faya leaned forward eagerly, her excitement clear. "I'll do my best to learn everything you can teach me."

Adam and Faya walked down the road together. The village was starting to wake up, and the market square ahead was bustling with activity. As they drew closer to his normal spot, Adam noticed something that made him pause. A large crowd had gathered in front of his stall, people talking in hushed voices and standing shoulder to shoulder. At first, Adam thought someone else had taken his place, but the guard standing at the front of the crowd made him think otherwise.

The guard was a tall man, wearing the village's standard uniform. He was speaking in a calm but firm voice, gesturing for the crowd to stay in order and not block the road. Adam could hear bits of his words carried by the wind as they approached.

"Please, no pushing. Stay in line, and don't block the road," the guard said, his voice carrying a tone of practiced authority. "The herbalist will be here soon; I'm sure everyone will get their turn. Just be patient." 

He leaned in and asked the person closest to him, a young woman with a torn sleeve and a deep gash on her arm, what was going on.

The woman, her face pale with exhaustion, glanced up at him. Her voice was hoarse, like she had been speaking too much or shouting over the noise. "These are refugees," she said, looking over her shoulder at the crowd, "from the border villages. They've been hit hard by the war."

Adam's frown deepened. War? What war?

"The neighboring country—" the woman continued, her voice trembling slightly, "they're attacking the border villages. The war just started. Apparently, an oracle from their country predicted that a new dungeon would open up near here soon, and they wanted to claim the land for themselves. They're fighting to take control of the dungeon so they can have it for their country. They believe it will give them... a system's perks. They want to control the dungeon." The woman paused, taking a ragged breath, before continuing. "These people, we've all been hurt in the raids. Our villages... we barely escaped with our lives. A lot of us... we don't have much left. But we heard there was a healer here, someone who charges what people can afford. So we came, and he isn't here."

 He looked back at Faya, who stood quietly beside him, eyes wide with concern. She had no idea what he had just learned, but the tension in the air seemed to be affecting her as well.

Adam took a deep breath and approached the crowd, stepping forward with a calm authority. The guard noticed him and nodded, recognizing him immediately.

"Adam, right?" The guard's tone was firm but polite. "They have been waiting for you. I'll be nearby to make sure they let you work."

Adam scanned the crowd, seeing men and women, children even, all with varying degrees of injury. Some had shallow cuts, while others bore more serious wounds from the raids. The severity of it all hit him harder than he expected. He called Faya over and explained to her and the crowd that he was going to walk and look at all of them and organize them by severity; the worse off will be treated first. Looking over at Faya, Adam handed her a bundle of Moonshade Blossom and sent her to hand everyone who was hurting one to chew on while they waited; it would lessen the pain and calm them down a little.

Adam set to work, moving from person to person, applying salves, bandaging wounds, and offering whatever little help he could. He wasn't the best healer, but his alchemical skills and knowledge of herbs went a long way. He could already see some of the pain easing from the faces of the refugees, their breathing becoming less labored as he worked and as Faya made everyone chew on the herbs. A few rougher men tried to grab more than the one they were given, but Faya, much to Adam's shock, put them right in their place. It might have helped that when it was their turn, Adam accidentally put his whole thumb right in one of their wounds when he was applying a salve.

The day dragged on, the heat of the sun rising high in the sky. The line of people never seemed to end, but Adam pushed through, helping as many as he could. Faya was a quick learner, and she proved to be a capable assistant, handing him supplies and organizing the herbs with care.

For the few who had coins to offer, Adam charged the minimum he needed to keep everything running—barely enough to replenish his supplies. But more often than not, the refugees had little to give in return for the healing they received. But that was okay with Adam; he was gaining a lot and felt great for being able to help so many.

For those who couldn't pay, Adam didn't turn them away. But instead of charging a fee, he accepted what they could offer in exchange—sometimes an old, worn trinket, a few pieces of dried meat, or a handful of herbs they had picked on their journey. One man, his arm in a makeshift sling, offered Adam an old map, the edges torn and the ink faded. "This is the route I took to get here," he said. "It might be useful for someone. You can have it."

Adam glanced at the map, folding it in half and slipping it into his pocket. It wasn't much, but the gesture was meaningful. Sometimes the trade wasn't in goods but in knowledge.

But there were moments when Adam refused outright. He couldn't accept everything people offered. One young girl around seven, her face battered and bruised, handed him a small pouch. "It's all I have," she said, tears falling to the ground, her voice strained. "Please, take it." "I can't accept this," he said softly. "It's all you have left, isn't it?"

She nodded, her eyes downcast. Adam closed the pouch after slipping a single silver into it and pushed it back into her hands. "You need this more than I do," he said. "I'll help you today, and you don't owe me a thing." Faya stood by his side, watching and helping where she could.

Adam felt the exhaustion of the day settling in. He wiped the sweat from his brow and handed Faya another pouch of herbs. "Alright, Faya," he said, his voice tired but firm. "We've done what we can for today. Let's close up the stall and gather what we've earned; I need to go to a few shops before it's too late and grab some items for tomorrow and start making arrangements for our travels. Faya nodded her head, but Adam noticed how tired she looked.

Faya nodded, but her eyes were still focused on the people around them. "Are we going to do this again tomorrow?" Adam glanced over the refugees. We'll keep doing it as long as people need help. And as long as we can keep ourselves going, we'll be there for them.

Adam dragged Faya to the general goods store, hoping his lady shopkeeper wasn't there, but knowing his luck, she was.

After stocking up with items they ran out of today, they were walking back to the inn when Adam remembered Faya's clothes. The child was too exhausted to notice them change directions until we walked into the tailor. The sign above the door read "Finely Woven," the shop known for crafting everything from simple traveling gear to elegant attire. Adam opened the door, the faint jingle of the bell signaling their arrival.

A woman, middle-aged with soft brown curls tied back in a neat bun, looked up from her sewing. Her hands paused, and she gave them a polite, welcoming smile. "Good evening," she greeted them. "How may I help you today?"

"Good evening," Adam replied, stepping forward. "I'd like to get a few outfits made for my... companion here. She's in need of some new clothing. The woman's gaze shifted to Faya, who was standing behind Adam, looking a little unsure. Adam noticed the way Faya tugged at the hem of her well-worn tunic, the edges frayed from use. It was no surprise—the girl had been living in those clothes for weeks.

"Of course," the woman said, her expression softening. "We can certainly do that. What kind of clothes are you thinking of?"

Adam turned to Faya and raised an eyebrow. "You heard her, Faya. We'll need a few different sets. One for traveling, something sturdy. One for working in, simple and practical. And then... one for when we're out of town—something nice. Can't have you looking like a ragged traveler all the time."

Faya hesitated, her face reddening slightly at the mention of something "nice." "I... I don't need anything too fancy, Adam," she mumbled, looking down at the floor.

Adam smiled, understanding her discomfort. "Something that will last, we might need to look like we belong in some places. The tailor nodded approvingly, eyeing Faya with a more practiced gaze now. "Absolutely. I'll make sure the fit is comfortable and practical, but also something that'll give you confidence when you wear it." She motioned toward a set of fabrics hanging nearby, an array of cotton, woolens, and silks in various colors. "Let me show you the selections, and you can tell me what speaks to you."

Faya, a little shy, walked over and began inspecting the fabrics. Adam took the opportunity to speak with the tailor.

"And if possible," he said, "I'd like it ready by tomorrow. We're planning on traveling again soon, and I want to make sure she has clothes for the journey."

The tailor raised an eyebrow at the request but nodded. "I can have them ready by midday tomorrow. A simple traveling set won't take long, and I'll work quickly on the others. I have some ready that might work well for her with some alterations. "Thank you," Adam replied, relieved.

Faya, still uncertain, eventually picked out a few fabrics—one for a nice traveling cloak in deep green, another for a sturdy pair of pants and tunics in a muted brown. Faya went to the back with the tailor and got more measurements. They were gone for longer than Adam thought was needed; when they came back out, little Faya looked like a completely different person. The door to the back room creaked open, and Faya stepped out, her feet hesitant but her posture more confident than it had been earlier. The simple brown dress clung gently to her slight frame, falling just below her knees. Her once unkempt, curly hair had been carefully straightened, the tangles and dirt washed away, leaving it silky and smooth, a deep shade of chestnut that now framed her face in neat waves. Her cheeks were still slightly hollow from lack of nourishment. Faya's face, once partially hidden behind strands of dirt-smeared hair, was now clear and shining, revealing her youthful features: a small nose and wide eyes that, while still holding a trace of uncertainty, were brighter than they had been earlier in the day. She looked almost like a completely different person—one who could have easily been mistaken for the daughter of a well-to-do family, rather than the ragged, dirt-streaked girl he met just this morning.

"Thank you again," he said. "We'll be back for the rest tomorrow." "Let's head back to the inn," Adam said with a smile, "and get some rest. Tomorrow will be another long day." As they arrived, Adam had the innkeeper give her a room next to his, and once she was done eating, they were off to their rooms for bed.

He checked out some of his system messages before going to bed. 

[Skills Leveled up]

[SYSTEM MESSAGE]

First Aid (Passive) Level 4

[SYSTEM MESSAGE]

Negotiation (Passive) Level 3

[SYSTEM MESSAGE]

Skill Learned:

Herbal Triage (Active) Level 1

Effect: Allows you to quickly assess the severity of injuries in up to 3 individuals within a 15-meter radius. Can apply a potion or salve effect from inventory to individuals. Will consume items from inventory.

Cooldown: 1 HR

Cost: 50 MP

[SYSTEM MESSAGE]

XP 1250

Name: Adam

Class: Herbalist (Level 8) 3795/7000

Excited to try out his new skill, he went to bed and started dreaming about what tomorrow would bring him.