— S-sorry, Miss Eluria... — I said, with an awkward smile. — Malaca spoke very highly of this place, and… well, I come from a coastal town. It's only been a few weeks since I left the orphanage, so I guess the world still feels kind of strange to me...
She looked at me for a brief moment. Her eyes were a pale, faintly glowing shade of blue, hidden beneath the hood that cast a shadow over part of her face. Her skin had an unusual grayish tone, but it shimmered when the light from the counter's lantern touched it.
— Don't worry, boy — she said, her voice deep and surprisingly calm. — You're not the first, and you won't be the last to be startled by my appearance. But judging by your condition, I imagine you're looking for a healing potion, am I right?
I blushed. The way I'd reacted upon noticing her features had been, to say the least, embarrassing. I hated myself for it. But, like her, I decided to focus on what really mattered in that moment.
— Yes, ma'am... If possible, I'd like a lesser healing potion.
— Of course. Here you go.
She handed me a squared flask, about the size of a small glass, filled to the brim with a translucent, slightly pinkish liquid. It gave off a faint warmth, as if it had just been brewed. I remembered how Malaca had described a lesser potion: cylindrical flask, murky liquid, strong herbal smell. This one was clearly different — and better.
My confused expression didn't go unnoticed.
— Hahaha, don't worry, kid — said Eluria with a hoarse laugh. — I'm giving you a regular potion. I'll charge you the price of a lesser one. If Malaca sent you, it means she likes you. Besides, I heard a young bard showed up in town… That's pretty rare. Sometimes it's nice not being the only weird thing around here, hahaha.
I had to admit, Eluria had charisma. I took the potion with gratitude, feeling the warmth of the glass in my hands. That would definitely help my hand heal faster and let me get some sleep. For a moment, I wondered if she had thought of that too.
Night fell gently over the city, and the walk back to the guild was peaceful. As I got closer, I could already hear laughter, clinking glasses, and joyful shouts. The celebration for another successful day in the dungeon was in full swing.
— Miss Malaca… People are really excited tonight, huh. Did something new happen in the dungeon?
She laughed loudly, in her usual lively way.
— Hahaha, kid, you're getting sharper by the day. See that group in the corner?
I followed her finger to a table where six adventurers were making the most noise in the tavern. Three of them had beast-like features — part-human like Leonan, but with more delicate traits, probably women. Beside them, a small priestess, almost childlike, likely a dwarf, and two men in loose robes, probably mages.
— They found a passage to the sixth floor.
— I thought you guys would take forever to find the entrance. Didn't you say it was a giant labyrinth?
— And it was. But sometimes, luck is almost a skill, don't you think? — Malaca replied with a smile. — And that wasn't even the best part… Near the entrance, they ran into some monsters, and guess what? They dropped a treasure.
— A treasure...? What was it?
Malaca smiled slyly and pulled something out of her pocket. A strange amulet, made of polished black metal. It was shaped like an unknown animal, with curved teeth pointing outward — like a miniature predator.
— Take a look at this.
I picked up the object carefully. It was cold to the touch, but pulsed faintly, as if it had a life of its own.
— It's beautiful, but... — I hesitated — it doesn't seem like much more than a decorative item.
— Oh my god, that look… — she clicked her tongue. — Don't tell me you don't know anything about magical items!
— Well, I read about them in the book you gave me, but I still don't really understand what makes them so amazing.
— Hm… that makes sense. Hold on, I think I can show you.
Malaca started rummaging through her pockets, digging out scraps of paper, coins, and a piece of dried cheese. Muttering, she went behind the counter and pulled out a thick scroll, similar to the one she used to show the nobles the effects of my skill weeks ago.
— Here it is. Take a look at this beauty.
Bartal's Medallion (Uncommon Item)
Durability: 5/5
Effect: Allows the user to probe a target's mind, identifying hostility or stance regarding a specific piece of information.
I stared at the text for a few seconds, frowning.
— I don't quite get it... I mean, you can read people's minds?
— More or less — she explained, leaning on the counter. — The medallion doesn't reveal everything, but it lets me choose a specific thought. For example, if I ask, "Are you lying about the gold?" it shows me whether the person is hostile or intends to hide the truth. It works like a magical compass for detecting lies in critical situations.
My eyes widened. An item like that... could change the outcome of an entire negotiation. Or even save lives in a treacherous mission.
— That's... incredible. From what I understand, this is just an uncommon item. Imagine what rare or legendary ones can do.
— Exactly. — Malaca twirled the medallion between her fingers like it was a common coin. — Of course, this lie-detecting function is the bare minimum. Just think what it could do against floor bosses... you could probe their minds and discover their entire skill kit. Before the fight even starts.
— Wow... okay, I'll admit I still don't fully understand how that would work — I said, frowning — but I imagine an item like this must be... ridiculously expensive.
Malaca let out a muffled laugh, the kind that hides a precious secret.
— Well, luckily for me, we're far enough from the capital that those pompous big-guild folks aren't interested in coming out here to buy something like this. Worked out great for me — she said with a satisfied smile. — I didn't have to pay nearly as much as I thought.
— That's a bold-faced lie.
The voice cut through the air like a well-thrown dagger.
From behind the bar came Zomeia, skillfully balancing four glasses filled to the brim. She approached with a smug look and arched eyebrows.
— Don't listen to my aunt — she said, in a tone dripping with irony. — She just wants someone to believe she made a good deal on that piece of junk.
— Sorry... I don't understand.
— Ignore this girl — Malaca grumbled. — She's overworked today, doesn't know what she's saying.
Zomeia wasn't about to give up. She quickly dropped the glasses off at the tables and came right back to my side, as if she'd rehearsed the move.
— My aunt competed with the other guild leaders to get that thing — she said, pointing at the medallion. — She did everything. Argued, made threats, even wagered barrels of booze!
— Hey! — Malaca shot back, raising a scolding finger. — That has nothing to do with it! Imagine that item in the hands of the other guilds. You think they wouldn't use it against us?
— Oh, they definitely would. In fact, they'd probably throw that medallion at our heads out of frustration — Zomeia mocked. — Just because you're the only woman among the city's guild leaders doesn't mean you have to win every time.
— You don't understand — Malaca retorted, folding her arms. — This is a strategic item! It can save lives, prevent betrayal. It's not just some collector's toy.
— Of course. An uncommon item is what's going to separate us from the big guilds... — Zomeia muttered, rolling her eyes.
While the two of them argued — a battle as fierce as any in a dungeon — I felt the weight of the day crashing down on me. The burn in my hands throbbed, and my muscles were begging for rest. I left them to debate the medallion's worth and went to take a bath, ready to collapse into bed as soon as possible.
"I haven't even thought of the song I'll sing for the noble..."
"Damn... I'm so tired I can barely string a verse together in my head..."
Darkness came uninvited, and sleep took me before I could finish the thought.
The next morning, I was awakened by a firm knock at the door.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
— Good morning... who is it?
— Kid, a letter came for you. I think you'll want to know who sent it.
My eyes widened. My heart skipped a beat.
— Damn... did something happen?
I jumped up, not even caring about the wrinkled sleepwear I was still in. I ran down the stairs like I was being chased by an invisible dragon.
— Hey, kid! At least wash your face first! Eat something! — Malaca shouted from the kitchen.
— Relax, I'll do that after! Where's the letter?
Deep down, I was anxious. Helena. Since she left, my chest carried that bitter mix of longing and worry. She didn't come from any noble or merchant house. She was on her own, just like me.
— You left me alone yesterday, but I'll forgive you — said Malaca with a smirk. She reached into her clothes at chest level and pulled out a visibly crumpled letter. — Here you go.
The letter had been roughed up by the journey, but the seal... the seal was still intact. I recognized that improvised emblem — a crude drawing of a smiling sun. So typical of her.
Without wasting a second, I opened the envelope with trembling fingers and began to read.
To Fly
Hi, Fly!
I wish I could show you how beautiful this place is — and more than anything, how amazing the people are here. Yesterday I had my first class. Wow, it's hard! Controlling these powers is way more complicated than I thought.
But the teacher said I have great potential, can you believe it? So I guess that's good news!
I met a girl in class named Luci. She's really nice and has this amazing fast-healing power. I told her about you, and guess what? Her sister lives near where you are!
There are some strong guys here too, but they're all pretty cool.
I'm healthy, well-fed, and sleeping better than ever. I hope you are too, truly.
Miss you.
— Helena
I stood still for a moment, my eyes locked on the last line.
She was okay. She was alive.
I stored the letter with as much care as I could, like it was a piece of the world I didn't want to lose. And in that moment, I felt that maybe — just maybe — things were finally starting to fall into place.
— Hey, kid! If you're done reading that letter, breakfast is ready. — Malaca shouted from the kitchen, her voice lazy and cheerful. — And if I'm not mistaken... aren't you running late?
My stomach dropped instantly.
— Crap! I completely forgot! Is Arnald going to be mad...?
— Well, if I were you, I'd already be running. Hahaha!
I gently placed Helena's letter on my makeshift bed, shoved my boots on the wrong feet, wrestled with a twisted shirt, and wolfed down yesterday's stale bread with egg like it was a royal feast. It was almost a ritual — clumsy, rushed, but full of energy.
As I left the tavern, the sun was still shy in the sky, painting the rooftops with a golden glow. I ran past Thorn, who was with a group of rookies at the city gates, probably explaining the entry rules.
— Morning, Mister Thorn! — I shouted, not slowing down.
— Kid... try not to sprint around like a madman — he said, rolling his eyes, but there was a smile hiding beneath that thick mustache.
— Thanks! Byeeeee!
The street's stones bounced under my bare feet. I hadn't even had time to put my boots on properly. I rounded the last corner already out of breath, hair messy, sweat running down my neck.
When I reached Arnald's residence — someone was already waiting for me at the doorstep. Arms crossed, rigid posture, serious expression.
— Well then, boy — said Arnald, his voice firm. — I thought you were going to be late. If that had happened, you might as well not have shown up at all. Lucky for you, it seems time is on your side.
The moment he said those words... something happened.
It was as if the wind paused for a moment.
"Time is on your side."
The phrase echoed within me like a magical whisper. My eyes widened. My heart, which had been racing just seconds before, began to slow. The world spun a little more slowly for just one second.
Of course. Of course! That was it!
My fingers began to move instinctively, as if they were already plucking the melody out of the air. I could feel the notes forming in my mind, like an overflowing stream. The harmony was soft and rising, like the dawn, with lyrics that spoke of entwined destinies, of the dance between time and choice...
— I know what song I'm going to sing — I whispered, barely aware I'd said it aloud.
Arnald raised an eyebrow.
— What's that?
— Nothing, Sir Arnald! I'm ready to start work! — I said, now wearing a genuine smile, something inside me renewed.
He looked at me for a moment longer than necessary, then slowly nodded.
— Hm. Good. Let's hope that "time on your side" also helps you stay focused.
But now, everything felt different. Because the song that had eluded me for so long had finally arrived.
And this would be... the song that changed everything.