Leon woke when sunlight slipped through the thin wooden boards of the storage room wall. The light ca in soft lines, cutting across the floor. He blinked a few tis, let his eyes adjust, and pushed himself up.
His body felt tired, but not painfully so. More like a weight he had learned to carry.
He stretched his arms, rolled his shoulders, and walked out into the hall.
The tavern wasn’t open yet, but the kitchen was already alive. The sound of plates clinking. The steady chop of a knife. Bram humming sothing under his breath, though he seed too tired to finish the tune.
Lyra looked back as Leon stepped inside. Her hair was tied in a loose knot. She was already slicing vegetables on a small cutting board.
"You’re awake early," she said.
"You are too," Leon answered.
She shrugged. "We always wake early."
Leon grabbed a bucket without being asked. "I’ll get water."
Lyra nodded once. "Good."
The settlent was cold that morning. Not freezing, but enough to make the air sharp. Leon breathed out, and a faint puff ford.
The streets were empty. Wet patches marked where dew hadn’t evaporated yet. A dog slept near a porch. A cart was parked beside a house, wheels still covered in dirt from yesterday’s work.
Leon lowered the bucket into the well. The rope scraped against the stone edge, echoing faintly in the quiet.
He pulled the bucket up, water sloshing against the sides, and carried it back.
He filled the tavern barrel, then returned for a second round. The simple rhythm made his mind slow down. In a strange way, he liked this morning walk. The silence. The cold. The work.
Sothing about it felt normal.
Sothing he wasn’t used to.
When he walked back inside, Lyra handed him a small wooden cup.
"Here," she said.
"What is it?" Leon asked.
"Warm tea. It helps the cold."
Leon took a sip. The tea wasn’t sweet, but it ward his stomach instantly.
"Thanks."
Lyra simply nodded and returned to slicing vegetables.
Bram erged from the storage room next, carrying flour bags on each shoulder. He dropped them beside the counter with a heavy thump.
"You filled the barrel again?" Bram asked.
"Yes."
"Good. I don’t like asking twice."
Leon wasn’t sure if that was praise or just Bram being Bram. Either way, he took it.
The tavern opened soon after, and people filed in like they always did.
Farrs.
Hunters.
Two young n who always ca early for bread.
A group of older won who liked to gossip near the window.
Leon got to work.
Pour water.
Carry food.
Wipe tables.
Take empty bowls to the basin.
He moved fast today. Faster than yesterday. His body was adjusting to the rhythm.
Lyra noticed.
"You’re quieter today," she said when they passed each other.
Leon placed dishes beside the sink. "I don’t have much to say."
"You never do."
"True."
She let out a small breath that sounded almost like a laugh. "Father says you remind him of his younger self. Quiet. Focused. Always working."
"Is that his way of saying he likes ?"
"No," Lyra said. "That’s his way of saying you don’t annoy him."
Leon nodded. "I’ll take it."
Around midmorning, a man with a large bag entered the tavern. He had a long brown coat, ssy hair, and tired eyes. He dropped the bag on a table and groaned.
"Breakfast," he said. "Anything hot."
Bram looked up. "Rough morning?"
"Long night," the man said. "Lost two sheep to sothing in the forest. Thought it was wolves. Tracks were wrong."
Leon paused.
He knew this wasn’t important to his story. Not yet. But he still listened.
Lyra brought the man a plate of warm bread and stew. The man devoured it like he hadn’t eaten in days.
Leon refilled the water jug on the next table. The man glanced at him.
"You new here?" he asked.
Leon nodded. "Yes."
"Working at this place, huh? Hope Bram doesn’t work you to death."
Leon allowed a small smile. "He tries."
The man laughed.
"You look like soone who’s seen a bit too much."
Leon didn’t answer.
The man kept eating, and Leon stepped away to clean another table.
Just another aningless conversation.
Just another stranger with nothing to do with his journey.
But that was fine.
Today was ant to be quiet.
When the breakfast rush ended, Lyra went outside to sweep the front steps. Leon followed with a small broom, sweeping the dirt near the doorway.
Lyra watched him while she worked.
"You do things properly," she said.
"I’m just sweeping."
"You do even that properly."
Leon paused. "Is that rare?"
"Very," Lyra said. "Most people your age rush things. They don’t think while they work. They just push through."
"Maybe they haven’t been through what I have."
Lyra tilted her head. "You say things like that again."
Leon looked at the broom in his hand. "Maybe I don’t know how to talk any other way."
Lyra swept a wide arc of dust off the wooden step. "It makes curious."
Leon glanced up. "About what?"
"About who you were before you ca here."
He tightened his grip on the broom handle.
"I don’t know if I was soone worth talking about," he said softly.
Lyra’s expression softened. "Most people aren’t. That doesn’t an they’re bad."
Leon didn’t reply.
They finished sweeping and went back inside.
The tavern stayed quiet until noon. Only a few custors wandered in—mostly travelers passing through Evergreen on their way to bigger towns.
Leon served them in silence.
Lyra handled their questions.
Bram cooked their als.
Everything flowed in a simple, repeating loop.
Once in a while, Leon glanced at the window.
The sky had turned pale gray. Clouds drifted overhead, covering the sun. A faint chill crept back into the air.
Sylveon would be hiding in the woods now, waiting for night.
Leon felt that familiar pull in his chest again, a quiet worry he couldn’t shake.
But he didn’t leave.
He couldn’t.
Not in the middle of the day.
Afternoon stretched on, slow and calm. The tavern barely filled. Only a few tables had custors.
A rchant with dusty boots.
Two sisters sharing a warm loaf.
A man who ca only to drink and didn’t speak a word.
Leon cleaned the sa two tables three tis. Lyra swept the sa spot repeatedly.
There wasn’t much work to do.
At one point, Lyra leaned on the counter and looked at Leon.
"You seem thoughtful," she said.
Leon didn’t stop wiping the counter. "Just thinking."
"About what?"
He hesitated. "Nothing important."
"That ans it’s probably important."
He let out a small breath. "I’m just checking the ti in my head."
"Why?"
"I have to be sowhere later."
Lyra rested her chin on her hand. "A secret place?"
"Sothing like that."
Her eyes softened a little. "You don’t have to tell . I’m just... curious."
Leon nodded once.
She didn’t push further.
When evening ca, the normal dinner rush flooded the tavern again. The noise rose. Plates piled. Voices clashed. Bram barked orders. Lyra ran between tables.
Leon moved faster than ever.
Carrying plates.
Swapping mugs.
Dodging a man who nearly tripped.
He didn’t stop.
He didn’t slow.
He just moved.
By the ti the rush ended, Leon’s hands stung from washing so many cups. His arms felt heavy. His legs wanted rest.
But it was finally late enough to slip away.
Bram wiped sweat from his face.
"That’s enough for today," the tavern owner said. "You worked harder than half the village."
Leon nodded. "Thank you."
"Go sleep," Bram said. "Tomorrow is the real busy day."
Leon wasn’t sure if Bram was joking or threatening him.
He stepped outside into the night.
Cool air wrapped around him like a cold blanket.
The settlent lights faded one by one as people returned to their hos. Only a few lanterns stayed lit. A dog barked in the distance.
Leon walked toward the forest without hesitation.
The mont he stepped beneath the branches, he heard a faint rustle above him.
Sylveon jumped down from a tree and landed beside him with a soft thump.
The beast’s eyes shone with relief. Leon reached out and brushed his fingers through Sylveon’s fur.
"I’m here," Leon said.
Sylveon nudged him, pressing its forehead against his chest, almost scolding him again.
"I know," Leon whispered. "I took too long."
Sylveon grumbled in a way that almost sounded like a complaint.
Leon sat down on a tree root, and Sylveon curled beside him.
"You’re patient," Leon said softly. "More patient than anyone I’ve t."
Sylveon flicked his ear.
Leon leaned back against the tree and let the quiet settle between them.
Tonight was peaceful.
No threats.
No blood.
No screams.
Just slow breaths.
Rustling leaves.
And a magical beast leaning against his side.
When enough ti passed, Leon stood.
"I’ll visit again tomorrow."
Sylveon nodded.
Leon walked back toward the tavern.
The forest stayed still behind him.
Inside the storage room, he sat on his mattress and exhaled slowly.
Another day done.
Another day of nothing important.
Another day of small breaths and small choices.
He lay down and stared at the ceiling.
Tomorrow would co fast.
He would work.
He would sweep.
He would carry plates.
He would check on Sylveon.
And life would move forward, very slowly, like water dripping from a roof.
Nothing big.
Nothing loud.
Just another small day in Evergreen..
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