The Weight of the Unknown

Elias misses home.

I can feel it in the way his voice lingers, in the way he looks at this village but does not see it.

It is an ache I do not understand.

Because I have no home to miss.

I have only just begun to exist.

There is no childhood to recall, no distant place that tugs at my heart, no mother's voice lingering in my mind. There is only this moment—this village, this journey, this man who should never have been here.

Elias remembers where he came from.

But I?

I do not know where I belong.

——

The thought lingers as we step further into the marketplace. The village square is small but lively, the scent of baked bread and dried fish mixing in the midday air.

Elias exhales beside me. "We need money."

I blink, pulled from my thoughts. "What?"

He gestures vaguely. "If we're going anywhere beyond this village, we'll need transport. A horse, a cart, something."

I frown. "And?"

He gives me a look.

"And we don't have anything."

That part, at least, is true.

Neither of us have a coin to our names. No provisions, no supplies, not even a waterskin between us. The weight of my sword is familiar at my hip, but beyond that? We are empty-handed.

I glance at Elias. "Then what do you suggest?"

He exhales. "We sell something."

I pause. Then—slowly—I look at him, then at myself.

Then back at him.

His lips press together before I even open my mouth.

I fold my arms. "Sell what, exactly?"

Elias glances at my weapons. "Your sword?"

"No."

"The bow?"

"No."

He sighs, tilting his head back. "Then what else do we have?"

I glance down at myself. My clothes are simple but well-made, a blend of flowing fabric and fitted leathers—designed for combat, not travel. Elias is much the same, dressed in dark robes that feel too fine for someone without a single coin.

But neither of us can sell our clothing.

We need them.

I frown. "You didn't start with any money?"

Elias snorts. "Yeah, I totally spawned into this world with a bag of gold."

"…Spawned?"

He pauses, then sighs. "Never mind."

I roll my eyes. "Then what now?"

He shrugs. "We find a way to earn something."

——

We move through the square, passing vendors selling fresh produce, handmade baskets, bundles of dried herbs. Elias's eyes flick from stall to stall, his mind turning, trying to solve a problem neither of us have ever faced before.

Eventually, he scoffs.

"This would be so much easier if we could just loot something."

I blink. "Loot?"

Elias hesitates. Then, slowly, he drags a hand down his face. "Right. You wouldn't—" He sighs. "Forget I said that."

I narrow my eyes. "No, explain."

His lips press together as if regretting his own words.

Then, after a long pause, he mutters, "Where I come from… people get money by selling things they collect. From… creatures."

I tilt my head. "Like hunting?"

"…Sort of."

I fold my arms. "So, what? You expected to walk outside the village and pick up gold off the ground?"

Elias's silence is enough of an answer.

I stare at him.

He exhales. "Look, I didn't exactly have a plan when I got here, alright?"

I shake my head, exasperated. "Then stop talking nonsense and help me figure out something real."

——

After a while, we pause near a bakery, the scent of fresh bread thick in the air. Elias leans against the wooden stall, thoughtful.

"So," he muses, "if we can't sell anything, we need to do something."

I glance around. Velia is small—smaller than I expected. It is not a place where warriors gather, where mercenaries roam.

But it is a place where work exists.

I glance at Elias. "Then we find someone who needs help."

He raises a brow. "That's your solution?"

"You have a better one?"

He sighs. "No. But I was really hoping we could just rob someone and get it over with."

I kick him in the shin.

Elias hisses, jerking back. "That was a joke!"

I scowl. "Not a funny one."

He mutters under his breath, rubbing his leg, but doesn't argue.

Then, suddenly—

"Oh?"

A new voice.

We turn.

A woman stands near the bakery, arms full of woven baskets, her eyes sharp with interest as she watches us.

"You two looking for work?" she asks, curious.

Elias and I exchange a glance.

Then—

"Yes," Elias says smoothly. "We are."

The woman hums, adjusting the baskets in her arms. "Could use an extra hand at the docks. Shipment just came in, and half the men are still out fishing."

Elias tilts his head. "What's the pay?"

She smirks. "How about you carry these baskets first, and then I tell you?"

I smirk.

Elias groans.

But I step forward before he can complain, plucking two baskets from her arms with ease.

"Where to?" I ask.

The woman grins. "Follow me."

Elias glares at me.

I grin back.

And just like that—

We have our first job.