Aric got the gist of what had happened. Alden was seething as he was saying that, but Aric was calm. He didn’t seem to care of what happened to Alden and was more interested in Alden’s family.
"Tell about your sister?" Aric asked. Alden’s face scrunched up when he heard Aric’s question. He was very protective about his sister and he wouldn’t let any harm co to her. He was grateful to Aric but that didn’t an he would trust him with every piece of information and his sister was high on his protective list.
"She is 10 years." Alden only spoke of that.
"Were you able to buy the dicine?" Aric asked, to which Alden responded yes.
"Did you give her the dicine?" Aric asked again, this ti the response was no.
"Then you should go and give her the dicine." Aric said.
"I.. I.. I will go ho tomorrow and let her have the dicine." Alden said.
"By the way, who were the team mbers that you went with?" Aric asked at the end. Aric ntioned the team na and the mbers. Aric nodded at it and went to his room, bolting the door.
Alden was confused of what just happened. Aric had asked a bunch of questions and just left. He didn’t even tell him to repay the favor or anything of that sort. Aric was back at his ho and and lying on his bed as his brain had started working of what his next step would be.
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"Mom, I will be going out today to play."
"Play? So early morning. Where are you going to play?"
"I thought of joining a cricket coaching center."
"Cricket? Don’t they need to be paid?"
"I have the money saved from the birthday and what my grandparents gave over the months. They have a month long schedule and an exam at the end."
"Did you tell your father?"
"No. You can tell him. This is a month long event so I will not be hampering my studies. After my results I think I need a break."
"Fine. But it shouldn’t spill on your school session."
"I promise. I just want to see if I have any talent in cricket."
With that conversation between Aric and his mother, he left the ho. His father was already at the farm so he didn’t get to see him. Of course, this was a lie. There was a cricket coaching event but he wouldn’t be joining it. He was back at his ho in Distant Wind city early morning.
When he ca out of the room, he saw Alden missing and was glad that he left. He needed his own privacy. The first thing he did was resupply the stocks and that needed to be provided to the two shops. Few days ago, Albert had co forward with a new business deal saying that one bar had approached him if they could buy from Albert in so wholesale rate.
Aric wanted to refuse as he felt that he was expanding too fast. But Albert promised him that the bar was a good friend of his and this would be the only bar he would make the deal with and never with others. Aric had a feeling that it might create a friction with the other bars and taverns of the city, but it shouldn’t be that much of a problem.
He would leave in a year or so to settle in a new city. A bigger city.
So he allowed for a bit more sale in the city to the bakery and the bar. After arranging the things around, he left his ho to go to the Adventure Guild. On each city there would one tavern-cum-Adventure Guild where one would put up missions and there would be warriors and mages who would complete missions that were put up in the bulletin board.
As he took turns and reached the place he saw the weathered wooden door of the tavern. Above it hung a swinging sign depicting a sword crossed with a tankard—an unmistakable symbol of the Adventure Guild. The faint sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and muffled conversations seeped through the thick wood.
The tavern greeted him with a burst of warmth and noise. The air was thick with the scent of roasting at, spilled ale, and the tang of burning wood from the large hearth crackling in the corner. The walls were adorned with trophies from past adventures: a huge bison’s skull, a frad map marked with perilous locations, and a glittering array of weapons and shields.
In the corner, behind a sturdy oak counter, stood the manager—a burly man with a thick beard and a scar running down one cheek. Despite his intimidating appearance, there was a glint of warmth and kindness in his eyes as Aric approached.
"Good day, sir," Aric began. "I’m here to register as a bell boy for the guild."
The manager looked him up and down, assessing. "Aye, lad. You’ve got the look of soone eager to prove himself. What’s your na?"
"Aric, sir. I live on rent here in the city. Uncle Albert of the Brewood bakery is my guardian."
The manager nodded and pulled out a large, leather-bound ledger from beneath the counter. He flipped it open to a blank page and dipped a quill into an inkwell. "Aric. Age?"
"Thirteen, sir."
"Thirteen," the manager repeated, jotting it down. "You understand what a bell boy does? It’s hard work—carrying gear, helping with preparations, running errands. It’s not glamorous, but it’s where many start."
"Yes, sir. I understand. I’m ready to work hard."
The manager’s stern expression softened a bit. "Good lad. We all start sowhere. Welco to the guild." He reached out a hand, and Aric shook it firmly, feeling the calloused strength in the manager’s grip.
"Coincidently, there is a one team who has asked for a bell boy tomorrow morning. Are you up for it?" The manager said.
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