Tarven

Luna huffed as she rummaged through her wardrobe, tossing aside blouses and skirts. The morning sunlight streamed through the small window of her room above The Laughing Mermaid tavern, illuminating the cluttered but cozy space.

"Another day, another dozen leering fools," she muttered to herself, selecting a high-necked blouse. "You'd think they'd never seen a woman before."

At twenty-five, she had been running the tavern for three years since her grandmother passed. It has in their family for generations—as had their secret faith. The small shrine to Ariadne was hidden behind a false panel in her wardrobe, visible now as she searched for her clothes.

"Grant me patience, Lady of Lost Causes," she sighed, glancing at the shrine. "Especially with Daron. If he 'accidentally' spills another drink on me so he can offer his handkerchief..."

She pulled on her blouse and reached for her skirt when a strange humming filled the air. The wooden floor beneath her feet began to glow with intricate golden patterns that she recognized immediately—the summoning circle her grandmother had carved decades ago, hidden beneath the rug.

"What in the—" 

The light intensified, forcing her to shield her eyes. There was a sound like thunder, then a crash and a male grunt of pain.

"You stupid goddess, you didn't say it will hurt."

When she lowered her arm, a young man was sprawled on her floor, her shattered washbasin beneath him and water soaking into the rug. He wore simple traveler's clothes but had a dangerous look about him—and he was definitely not from Venoz.

For a moment, they just stared at each other in shock.

"Who tf are you?"

Luna immediately grabbed the nearest heavy object—a cast iron candlestick—and held it like a weapon. "Who are you and how did you get in my room?" she demanded, her voice steadier than she felt.

Luther groaned, pushing himself up from the broken porcelain. "Your room? That goddess didn't mention I'd be dropping into someone's bedroom." He looked around, taking in the small space with its simple furnishings and the startled woman brandishing a candlestick at him. "You must be Luna. I'm Luther. Ariadne sent me."

Her grip on the candlestick tightened. "Prove it."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the silver pendant, holding it up for her to see. "Will this do?" 'shouldn't you already have proof since I came through the summoning circle?' He rolled his eyes in annoyance.

Her eyes widened at the sight of the goddess's symbol. Slowly, she lowered the candlestick. "By the lost roads... you're the hero she promised."

"Don't call me that," he said automatically, wincing as he stood. "And don't look so disappointed. Trust me, I'm not thrilled about this either."

"I'm not disappointed," she protested, though her expression suggested otherwise. "I just expected someone more..."

"Heroic?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Polite," she finished, setting down her improvised weapon. "Someone who wouldn't crash through a summoning circle into a lady's private quarters without so much as a by-your-leave."

He had the grace to look slightly abashed. "That part wasn't my idea. Blame your goddess."

She sighed and ran a hand through her copper-colored hair. "Well, what's done is done. At least you didn't appear ten minutes earlier." At his questioning look, she added dryly, "I wasn't dressed."

"Small mercies," he muttered, then looked around at the mess. "Sorry about your... whatever that was."

"Washbasin. Don't worry about it." She moved to the door and locked it firmly. "But we have bigger problems. The Watch patrols this area regularly, and a strange man in my room would raise questions I can't answer."

"The Watch?"

"Venoz's not-so-friendly city guard, with a side of religious enforcement." She began gathering up the broken pieces of porcelain. "They're especially suspicious of strangers who appear out of nowhere."

He crouched to help her. "Ariadne mentioned something about religious persecution. Your king doesn't like competing gods?"

Her mouth tightened. "That's putting it mildly. Worship of any deity but Solus is punishable by imprisonment—or worse." She nodded toward the wardrobe where her shrine was hidden. "My grandmother kept faith with Ariadne in secret. Now I do the same."

"Risky," he observed.

"Worth it," she countered. "Ariadne has always watched over my family. When the templars burned the other shrines, ours remained hidden. When they arrested the other priests and priestesses, my grandmother was overlooked." A sad smile touched her lips. "Lady of Lost Causes, indeed."

He studied her thoughtfully. She wasn't what he expected—not some fanatical priestess, just a young woman trying to honor her family's traditions in a world that made that dangerous. Despite himself, he felt a grudging respect.

"So," she said, businesslike as she disposed of the broken basin, "we need a story for you. Something that explains your presence but doesn't invite too many questions."

He watched her bustling around the room, clearly trying to take control of the situation. It was a familiar dynamic—someone thinking they knew what was best for him, ready to map out his path. 

He had enough of that.

"Hold on," he said, raising a hand to stop her. "I'll handle my own story."

She paused mid-sentence, blinking at him. "You... what?"

"My story. My background. I'll come up with it myself." He moved to the small window, peering out at the unfamiliar town below. "I've been lying to authority figures my whole life. No offense, but I'll do better on my own than with whatever rehearsed tale you've cooked up."

A flash of annoyance crossed her face. "This isn't some schoolyard fib. The Watch has ways of detecting lies—magical ways."

He turned to face her, leaning against the windowsill. "Then I won't lie. Not exactly."

"What does that mean?"

He crossed his arms, thinking. "The best deception contains truth. So here's what's true: I'm not from here. I'm a fighter. I don't have family looking for me." He started pacing the small room. "I'll say I'm from the frontier. What's the most remote, lawless region in this kingdom?"

Luna hesitated, then sighed. "The Silver Mist Mountains to the north. Barely controlled by Venoz, full of mercenaries and outcasts. The Watch rarely goes there."

"Perfect. I'm a bounty hunter from the mountain settlements. Came to the city looking for work after a local dispute got too heated." He cracked his knuckles absently. "People avoiding questions about their past, looking like they can handle themselves—that's not suspicious, it's just business."

She studied him, her expression shifting from skepticism to reluctant admiration. "That... might actually work. Bounty hunters aren't common in the city, but they're not unheard of and the Watch tends to leave them alone as long as they're not causing trouble."

"Exactly. No need for complicated backstories or fake relatives." He smirked. "Just a simple man with simple looking to make a living. True enough that no magic will catch me in a lie."

"And what about your connection to me? The Watch knows everyone in this district."

He shrugged. "You hired me as security for the tavern. Rough place, attractive owner—makes sense you'd want some muscle around." He gestured to his face. "I look the part, don't I?"

Her cheeks colored slightly. "I suppose that works. Though I'd appreciate if you didn't refer to me as part of your cover story."

"Fair enough." 

"Well, just in case things go south, we will have to fight and run. What rank did the goddess give you?" She sat on her bed, looking exhausted already.

"About that, I didn't receive any powers from her."

"What!!?" She was so shocked that she had to open in an hour.