“You want to what?” Elaine exclaimed. Her mouth hung low as she gawked at him.

  “You heard me. I want to become an adventurer.”

  “But—You’re… Are you sure?”

  “No, I’m Colby,” he giggled. “But seriously. If I can’t stop the war, then what if I become an adventurer and earn some gold so that I can buy the ingredients to make my cheese.”

  “But, isn’t that what your parents’ shop is for?”

  “Not really. It’s their money, not mine. That’s why I’m—”

  An ache pierced through his chest like a stake driven through his heart. He fell to his knees and clutched his chest. It hurt. Everything hurt. Was it the backlash from the failed [Burn] spell—was there such a thing as delayed backlash? No. This pain was different. It was infinitely worse.

  Repressed memories clawed away at his psyche, threatening to tear away at his very being. No, he wouldn’t let that happen. Not again. Not ever again.

  Goodbye, bad memories. Under the rug you go.

  “Colby!” Elaine shouted, pulling him out of that deep and dark place.

  “Huh. What? Colby here. Why am I on the floor?”

  “You were… never mind,” she said, pulling him up with that monstrous strength of hers. “Are you okay?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I’m Colby.”

  “Good, at least you’re okay, but what about—”

  “No time to talk, Laine, gotta run. Cheese awaits me. Also, sorry for wasting your time.”

  With that, Colby ran out of the clearing into the forest and back into Brinebrook. There was still a sensation of someone stalking him. Was it the Thornwolf again? Did he want more cheese?

  “Colby!” a voice pierced through the trees.

  It wasn’t the Thornwolf. It was Elaine.

  She had caught up to him, and she wasn’t even winded.

  “Laine? Shouldn’t you be training?” he asked, placing a hand on a trunk and stopping to catch his breath.

  “And shouldn’t you be smarter? Did you really think I’d leave you alone after hearing you spout nonsense about being an adventurer?”

  “Yes.”

  “You are very wrong, Colby Tyro.”

  “I don’t get what’s the big deal,” he said.

  “Are you dumb?”

  “No, I’m—”

  “Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Colby. I’m here worried sick that you’re about to do something stupid and you’re making jokes?”

  “I really don’t get it, Laine. It’s just another way to make money so that I can buy ingredients to make cheese.”

  “It’s not that, Colbs. It’s…” Elaine suddenly paused. She stared off into the distance as if having an epiphany—hopefully about her making a big fuss over nothing.

  “Do you not remember?”

  “Remember what?”

  Her mouth hung low. If he could see inside her head, he’d see the gears slowly turn until, finally, everything clicked.

  “You really don’t remember?” she asked.

  “Remember what?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “You can’t just ask a question like that and leave me hanging. Remember what?”

  “Do you…” she trailed off, eyes darting. “Remember my celebration reward? It’s been almost a week, Colbs. I’m so disappointed in you.”

  “You know I can tell when you’re lying, right?”

  “Honestly, Colbs, can we not talk about this? I just… Let’s go see your parents.”

  “Because?”

  “I need to talk to them. And I also need to babysit you, apparently.”

  “Rude. Just because you’re slightly taller than me doesn’t make you older,” he said.

  “Let’s just go.”

  Elaine gripped his hand, dragging him through the forest and back into Brinebrook. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t wrestle those fingers loose. Not even going limp slowed her down. She simply dragged his body across the ground.

  Was using cheese worth it in this situation? Probably not.

  With little choice, he allowed Elaine to tow him back into town. It was only when rough soil transformed into jagged and extremely painful cobblestone did he remember how to use his legs.

  Eventually, they made it back to the cheese shop.

  Elaine swung open the door, yanked him inside, and immediately closed it. She stood at the entrance with her arms folded, not allowing him anywhere near the outside world.

  Well, there goes that plan of slipping away when she let her guard down.

  At the counter, his father lowered the newspaper he had been reading, noticing him and Elaine.

  “Colby!” he shouted, shooting up from his seat and running towards him. “Where did you go? Your mother and I were worried sick. She’s still out there looking for you.”

  “Sorry, Dad. I was just… doing stuff.”

  “If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to.”

  His father turned to the towering knight blocking the door. “And Elaine, thank you for bringing Colby back. I hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”

  “About that, Mr. Tyro. I have some stuff I need to discuss with you,” she said.

  “Cool. While you two have a little discussion, I’ll just step outside to search for Mom and let her know I’m okay.”

  “No,” Elaine said, refusing to move from the door.

  It was worth a shot.

  “Fine. I’ll just go upstairs and change my pants.”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  After being used as a mop by Elaine, his already brown pants had gotten even browner. To anyone passing by, they’d think he had soiled his pants. Technically, he had—just the wrong kind of soil.

  Colby slipped behind the counter and shut the ‘Employee Only’ door behind him. His eyes glanced towards the window above the kitchen sink. He would go to his room and change his pants, but only after becoming an adventurer.

  Soon, he had regained his freedom.

  No idea what had gotten Elaine so freaked out. Another problem for future him. Right now, he needed money for ingredients so that he could make his own cheese.

  Using a combination of walking and jogging—mostly walking—he navigated the cobblestone streets filled with more awkward silence than people. The war really was affecting everyone; no one dared to roam the streets. Or maybe it was the absurdly high taxes? If no one could afford to spend, there was no reason to leave home.

  Eventually, Colby found himself at the entrance of the Adventurer’s Guild.

  It was a towering mini-castle of cobblestone that stood five stories tall—two and a half times taller than a regular building in Brinebrook. There were no windows on the first and second floor; it was only the third and above where rectangular panes of glass allowed one to peer into the grand building. The roof tapered into a series of short spires capped with brown, cobblestone instead of the standard gray brick—giving the gray mass a much-needed variation in color.

  He never had a reason to enter the place, not until now.

  Walking up the steps to the large wooden doors, he felt a pang in his heart. He clutched his chest.

  Curds!

  Am I having a heart attack? But I’m too young.

  He ate plenty of cheese every day since people said that it would raise his cholesterol. Since he ate so much cheese, it should be nonexistent. If he had been eating foods that raised his ‘cho-more-sterol’, then he’d be worried.

  “Colby?”

  Recognizing that voice, he turned around.

  Standing behind him was a short boy with brown hair, who had more holes in his tunic than fabric. It was Porter.

  “Port? What are you doing here?”

  “I’m getting a new order.”

  “You are? I mean, you are! I definitely knew that.” Colby looked at Porter, hoping for some sort of reaction, but Porter continued to look at him, smiling with those innocent eyes of his.

  Curds!

  Why was hiding how aware he was of his best friend’s job so hard?

  “Sorry, Port. I know you’re a Supply Runner. I just don’t really know where you get your jobs from. You probably told me, but I either forgot or just wasn’t paying attention. Sorry, Port.”

  “Oh, it’s no biggie. You’re a busy guy, Colby. Especially since you’re always thinking about how to make the ultimate cheese.”

  “Thanks, Port, but no thanks. If you don’t mind… could you… you know… tell me how a Supply Runner works again. I promise to pay attention and not think about cheese.”

  “Sure, Colby. It’s no biggie.”

  Yup, all he had to do was not think about cheese and listen to Porter speak.

  But in his defense. He had been thinking about that Thornwolf from earlier. It only accepted the mozzarella cheese from him after it was coated with leaves from a bush. No idea why.

  Monsters were weird. And Monstorologists were even weirder. They love monsters so much, they’d grab a monster made out of trash, give it a peck on the cheek, and call it their baby. Yeah, very weird.

  Oh, curds! He got distracted.

  As he was saying. What if, instead of leaves from a bush, next time he incorporated moss into his mozzarella? That way, he’d be creating mossarella. Of course, it’d probably only taste good to that Thornwolf.

  Double curds! He got distracted about being distracted.

  Okay, time to focus up.

  “And that’s why I’m here at the adventurer’s guild,” Porter said.

  Triple curds! This was going to be awkward.

  “Um, Port?”

  “Yeah, Colby?”

  “Could you, um, repeat that again?”

  “Sure, it’s no biggie.”

  “Legendary Supply Runners like Ana Zone or Grubber Hubber the Rubber get their request delivered to them. The middle-tier Supply Runners usually work for companies like The Order or Path of Parcels. Most beginner Supply Runners take on jobs posted through the Adventurer’s Guild—that’s how I started Supply Running for Mr. Goodsell. But, he only needs a resupply once a week, so that’s why I’m here at the Adventurer’s Guild.”

  “Wait, it's that simple?”

  “I simplified a lot of it. It’s no biggie. I don’t want to overload your brain with anything not useful.”

  “Thanks, Port. But you are useful. Okay?”

  “Okay! So why are you here at the guild?”

  “Well, because of the war, I’m not allowed to make my own cheese anymore.”

  “You can’t?” Porter exclaimed. Colby, are you okay?”

  “No, I’m Colby,” he giggled, but it faded all too fast. “Honestly, I’m feeling less and less like Colby by the hour. Then, I thought, what if I helped end the war? I tried to convince Elaine to help me be a Knight or even an Arcanist, but it didn't work out. Then I realized, gold was the problem. If I have enough gold, I can buy the ingredients to make my cheese. And that’s why I’m here to become an adventurer.”

  “An adventurer!” Porter exclaimed. “That’s a big biggie. Are you sure?”

  “Nope, I’m Colby,” he said, forcing a giggle. “But anyway, what’s with you and Elaine? Why wouldn’t I—”

  Pain seared through his chest. Colby fell to his knees.

  What was this? This feeling.

  Shouting. Scolding. Disappointment. All because cheese was what he was good at. No—because cheese was all he was good at.

  Why?

  “Colby!”

  Porter’s voice cut through the darkness, bringing him back to his senses. All of these feelings. These emotions. He would deal with them later—or even not at all. Because he was going to seal them even deeper, even darker within his mind than ever before, never to see the light of day.

  “Huh, Port?” Colby said, looking up. “Wait, why am I on the floor? What happened?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “No, I’m Colby,” he laughed.

  “What were we doing again? Right, I was going to earn some gold so that I can buy ingredients to make my cheese.”

  “But, Colby. What about—”

  “C’mon, Port. Time’s wasting. Daylight’s burning. Cheese is waiting. Let’s go.”

  Colby got up and pushed open the wooden double doors that led into the Adventurer’s Guild. What was normally a bustling area—at least based on the stories he heard—was dead quiet. There were barely any adventurers within the large building. Then again, it should’ve been obvious given how the normally crowded street right outside the guild was practically empty.

  The floor was polished wood, still glossy despite the grime typically associated with adventurers’ apparel. On each side of the large hall stood two boards made out of crystals—four in total. And at the far end, stretched a row of counters. Glass panes held up with little stone arches protected the staff from any unruly adventurers. Right above the arch were even more crystal boards—though much smaller. Only one was lit, displaying the number twelve.

  Looking around, Colby realized he didn’t exactly know where to go or what to do.

  “Say, Port. What do I do now?”

  “You’re supposed to go to the reception area to register, but are you sure you—”

  “Yup. No time like the present, am I right? Let’s go.”

  “Wait, you’re supposed to—”

  It was too late. Colby rushed forward toward the only open counter, where a blonde receptionist sat waiting.

  “Hi, how can I help you today?” the receptionist asked with a polite smile.

  “I want to earn gold,” he said.

  Not even taken aback in the slightest, she replied, “Are you a member of the guild?”

  “No, I am not.”

  “Okay, then I’ll need to register you as an adventurer first.”

  “Sure! What do I need to do?”

  “First, you need to pass a test. It’s standard guild operating procedure.”

  “What kind of test?” Colby asked.

  “A simple combat test to determine if you meet the guild’s baseline physical standard.”

  “Is there a written one?”

  “No, only a combat test.”

  “Really? So, I just punch stuff and I get to be an adventurer?”

  “Yes. Would you like some time to prepare?”

  “Not in the slightest.”

  “Very well, please proceed through that door over there.” She pointed to a wooden door at the end of the row of counters.

  “You got it.”

  Colby rushed forward, his hands grasping the doorknob. Just as he was about to twist it open, a hand stopped him.

  It was Porter.

  “What are you doing, Port?” Colby asked. “Also, since when were you the confrontational type?”

  “I’m making sure if you really want to do this, Colby.”

  “Of course I do. I need the gold. Also, I’m really proud of you. Now, if you don’t mind.”

  Colby plucked Porter’s fingers off his wrist—significantly easier to do than with Elaine. He opened the door and stepped through it, finding himself within a small wooden room. Behind him, the door clicked shut before Porter could get another word in.

  Porter definitely seemed concerned. That was nice of him, but come on, it was just a simple test. He’d seen plenty of people his age—some even younger working as adventurers. If they could do it, so could he.

  This was going to be a cinch.

  There was nothing in the room besides him, the wooden planks that lined the walls, floor, and ceiling, and another door directly across the one he had entered.

  So, what was in store for him?

  The door across from him suddenly swung open, and walking through it was a man.

  Correction—stickman.