The cobbles felt rough beneath her feet, and her breathing was labored, each ragged breath like daggers in her lungs. Her muscles screamed for rest, but Issa ignored them, plunging headlong into the city with neither care nor direction.

  Rayne had lied to her. Her brother, the one who had cared for her ever since their parents’ passing, and the person she cared for most in this world, had lied to her. And not just that. That last line of his, calling her a kid…

  More tears blurred her vision, and she hurriedly wiped them away, awkwardly dodging around a pedestrian as she did. A few people called out to her, but she did not stop. She couldn’t stop. The moment she stopped, she would collapse, she could feel it in her bones, and so she kept going, kept moving, ever onward, with no destination in sight.

  With each step, the scenery changed. The shops fell away, replaced by houses of increasing splendor. In the back of her mind, she realized that she was approaching the Noble District, and enough of her sense remained to change course, following the canal that separated the Old Quarter from the rest of the city away from the nobles and their ilk. If anyone from the Academy saw her like this, her reputation would take a hit, and she could not allow that to happen, even if she had been stabbed in the back by the one person she called kin.

  The canal ran the length of the Old Quarter, and she followed it from the opposite side, her feet dragging as she moved aimlessly towards the city wall. It was festooned with scaffolding, where workers worked feverishly to repair a segment that had collapsed after a particularly heavy rainy season, not that she cared about any of that. All she wanted was a place to hide away from the world, and Rayne, for a few more minutes.

  At last, after what felt like forever, her eyes fell on a small bridge, beneath which a small strip of dry land could be seen beneath the stone supports. A perfect place to be alone.

  Lowering herself down from the bridge structure, she dropped the remaining few feet, wincing as she landed hard on the packed earth. There was indeed land here, and it clearly saw use. Even in her addled state, she could see countless footprints upon the hard-packed earth, and there were items too. A stick with a sack over it and a bucket on top resembled a strange scarecrow, and there was a large bag with hay sticking out of it leaned up against the wall. Animal feed maybe?

  Unable to concentrate on the reasons for these objects, Issa moved to the underside of the bridge where her tired feet finally gave out. Collapsing against the stone structure that formed the underbelly of the bridge, she brought her knees in close, hugging them tightly against her chest as she stared out over the slow moving waters of the Torid Canal.

  Why was Rayne adventuring? Why had he lied to her? And why couldn’t he see her point of view? Adventuring was dangerous, they knew that better than anyone. Their parents hadn’t even been adventurers, and yet they had fallen when the caravan they were in had been attacked by monsters. Twelve merchants and eight adventurers had died that day, all slaughtered in the monster wave resulting from the war with Arstov, all of them trained, all of them prepared, and now he wanted to add to that total?

  A fresh wave of tears hit her now, and Issa gave into it, her body racked with sobs as the thought of Rayne’s broken body lying in a coffin filled her mind. Time lost meaning to her, the soft lapping of the canal against the shore and the slow descent of the sun both going unheeded in her lament, and so it was with no small amount of surprise that she realized a newcomer had arrived.

  Through a haze of tears, she could see a man, and she hastily wiped her eyes as she sized him up. Thankfully, he appeared moderately well dressed, though the sword on his back was cause for concern, and he stared at her in confusion, a look she returned as both wondered why the other was here.

  “What are you doing in my training field?” he said at last, his tone was demanding, but not necessarily angry.

  “I- I’m sorry.” Suppressing a sniffle, Issa climbed awkwardly to her feet. Her joints were sore from sitting, and her eyes ached, but she nodded politely at the man. “I’ll get out of your way.”

  The man glanced over to her as he crossed his arms, his eyes taking in her downtrodden appearance before they turned to the training dummy before him. “Nonsense, it would not do for a noble to send a tear-stricken maiden away. I hardly own the bridge.” Glancing around awkwardly, he continued. “I suppose it is I who should leave you.” There was a note of reluctance in his voice, as if he was already preparing himself to leave but very much did not want to.

  “No no, it’s fine. You obviously use the bridge more than me.” She hesitated. “Assuming this is all your stuff, which it is, right?”

  The man’s shoulders seemed to relax at the statement. “That is correct. So long as you are sure, then I suppose neither of us are required to leave.” Having said that, he unsheathed his sword and began to swing it at the dummy, his strike full of vigor as he engaged the inanimate foe.

  Left to her own devices, Issa sat back down, unsure of what the proper protocol was here. Realistically, she should leave, find herself another place to mope. But she did not want to, and besides, she had been here first after all. For a little while, she focused on the ground, simply staring mindlessly as she attempted to process the events of the last hour. However, after a time, she found herself watching the man as he exercised, his sword repeating the same motion over and over again without error.

  He had been at it for quite a while now, and yet showed no signs of deviating. Each strike was precise, with neither wasted movement nor excess strength

  This state of affairs continued for a while, both of them stewing in a somewhat uncomfortable silence. The man would occasionally open his mouth, but would then close it again just as quickly, his brows knitted together in frustration.

  Finally, he spoke again, though he did not cease his training to do so. “May I ask what it is which ails you? If you do not mind, of course.” He did not look to her when he spoke, but there was a self-satisfied smile on his face, as if he were proud of what he said.

  She eyed him cautiously as she considered what he asked. His dress and manner of speech seemed to mark him as a noble; his chestplate even had a familial crest upon it. That being said, however, his choice of training location was completely at odds with where a noble should train. He was swinging his sword beneath an old bridge on the outskirts of the Old Quarter, where it met with the decidedly middle-class Artisan’s District. Certainly, a noble would not be caught dead in such conditions.

  She noticed his eyes occasionally glance at her as she studied him, the confidence he had previously exuded slowly withering away under her gaze. He was a strange contradiction—presenting nobility while rolling around in the dirt, speaking elegantly just to wilt under silence.

  She had not really noticed herself calming down until the tear trails on her face had dried up, but this strange man had distracted her enough that the pain was now a touch more distant than it had been before.

  “It’s a… complicated story.”

  He hummed in understanding, and they fell back into silence. Although she wanted to, she was not sure that the limited comfort he provided was enough to divulge her issues to him. Dumping her trauma onto a stranger? That wasn’t her. But no matter how she tried, that little voice within her remained, telling her to share her tale. Unable to make it go away, she cocked her head, considering the man.

  Given the sword, there was a decent chance that he was an adventurer of some sort. After all, proper nobles would have their own training ground that they could use without resorting to the underside of a public bridge, and the guard practiced at the training field by the east gate. Since he was here, it was unlikely that he was a member of either, and the only group of sword-toting fighters that remained were adventurers and mercenaries, and since he didn’t possess the rough-and-tumble appearance of the latter, that meant he was likely the former. He might even know her brother.

  The thought galled Issa, but she forced it down. She could not resent all adventurers for her brother’s sins. But that did pose a new issue. The last thing she needed was one of Rayne’s adventurer buddies trying to butter her up on the idea of him being one of them.

  She frowned. Thinking about it logically, even if the man before her did know her brother, he undoubtedly did not recognize her. So that was fine. And he may be able to tell her what being an adventurer was like. It must be quite the life, if Rayne was willing to go to such lengths as lying to her just to become one.

  If one wished to win a debate, they must enter armed with all the information that they could gather, and since an argument was essentially just an informal debate, the same should hold true for those as well. With the resolve to prove her brother wrong, she broke the silence with a question.

  “You’re an adventurer, right?”

  He completed his swing before turning to her with an incredulous expression. The answer was obvious, but she could ill afford to presume his status, especially should he be some scion of a noble house.

  “I am,” the man responded proudly, returning his attention to the dummy before him. “I am currently a simple bronze-rank, but I shall be breaking into silver before long.”

  She was not entirely sure if bronze was a low rank or more middling, but silver sounded decent. Given the trend, it was likely that there existed a gold rank above that, and perhaps more base metals below. She shook her head to dispel the thoughts. As the most talented student in her cohort, research was second nature to her now, but she could ill afford to indulge herself at this juncture.

  The man before her was certainly impressive in stature, but compared to the average person, most adventurers would seem imposing. Regardless, his rank did not matter too much. It was certain he would be higher than her brother based singularly off the quality of his equipment. Having thus rationalized the idea to herself, she pressed on with her objective.

  “I have a… friend who recently became an adventurer. He hid it from me, and so we had a fight once I found out.”

  This was apparently all it took, for the man stopped swinging and now turned towards her fully, giving her his complete attention. Seeing this emboldened Issa, and she continued, her voice growing steadier as she talked.

  “He has no formal training or experience with fighting, just the militia weekends and a few schoolyard scraps. But we need money, so he went and signed up to be an adventurer, and he’s been working as one for gods know how long now.” She let out an exasperated breath. “A month, perhaps? I’ve told him a million times that I can drop out of school to help support us, but he just pushed on ahead without so much as a mention. My education isn’t nearly as important as his life!”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Her cheeks reddened as she realized she’d let out a little more information than she had intended; evidently, she had not calmed down as much as she had hoped. Luckily, it seemed the adventurer had not picked up on the slip, or perhaps he simply did not care.

  “I take it that it is just the two of you,” he said unexpectedly, and Issa gave him a meek nod as he seemed to ponder what to say next. “And this… friend. He has been the one to take care of the both of you?”

  Another nod. And a realization. So he did notice.

  “What has changed?” he asked. There was sincerity within his gaze, and Issa debated how much she should tell him, eventually deciding there was little harm in being honest. After all, he had already figured out that this was more than just a ‘friend’.

  “I’m an Academy student on scholarship.”

  He smiled at the revelation and stood a little taller, her estimation having clearly risen in his eyes.

  “Tuition is being raised, and we don’t have the gold to pay for it. So instead of taking a reasonable approach and asking me to contribute, take a semester off, anything, he just charged into what I'm sure was the first reckless idea he had!” Her words spilled out of her with more vitriol than she’d intended, but it was also the truth. Her brother had always been stubbornly bullheaded like that, unwilling to look past whatever he thought was a good idea when really it was just the first solution to pop into his head.

  Even when they were little and their parents had been alive, he’d been this way. Once he got an idea in his head, he would see it through, for better or for worse. Sometimes it was endearing, like when he’d thrown her a party for her fifteenth birthday and saved up an entire month to get her a proper cake from the Old Quarter baker. Other times, it was infuriating, like when he disregarded his own safety and her opinion to fulfill the dream left to them by their parents.

  The thought of his mortality brought back the tears full force, and Issa found herself apologizing, wiping away tears that simply wouldn’t stop. A moment later, a handkerchief was thrust towards her, embroidered with the letter ‘L’.

  “Tha-thank you,” she managed, blowing her nose loudly. “Oh gods, I’m such a mess. I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

  “What rank is he?”

  The question caught her off guard, so completely unrelated to the current conversation that she didn’t know how to answer. She did not even know what the adventurer ranks were, let alone which one Rayne was. Gods, she didn’t even know how long he’d been an adventurer for!

  Any idea she might have was little more than a guess, and the exact date was difficult to pinpoint based on her memories. He had started acting suspiciously over a month ago, but that could have been caused by anything. The recent increase in food costs, their landlord’s rent hike, or even the rumor about tuition. It did not mean he had started adventuring only then. But she had no other answers, and so she went with her first answer.

  “I don’t know his rank,” she confessed, “but it can’t be that high. Like I said, he’s only been an adventurer for a couple of weeks. Maybe a month at most?”

  One of his eyebrows quirked upwards at that, and he seemed to stare through her for a moment, temporarily lost in thought before he blinked the expression away and returned his gaze to her.

  “Has he succeeded in providing?” he asked.

  She glared at him for the question. “The issue isn’t that he isn’t able to house us anymore, the issue is that he’s putting his life on the line to do so!”

  He took a step back from the heat in her words, his eyes wide with worry. Lifting a hand to show he meant no harm, he gazed at her.

  “I did not mean to imply anything. I just wanted to know how good your friend was. There are a lot of adventurers who only show up once every week or two for some quick coin and then some who only ever take on easy jobs or in big groups.” His expression hardened as his rambling continued, “And then there are some who just backstab stronger adventurers and then slander them. Does that make sense? Villany right before their eyes and yet everyone gives them their sympathy and treat me like some sort of plague bringer.”

  Issa’s glare softened into a confused stare. The adventurer was looking past her again, his rant clearly born from some rather deep issues of his own, and she felt some small sense of pity for whatever it was he had been subjected to.

  “...That sounds pretty awful of them. It doesn’t make any sense for them to blame you for that,” she told him with some trepidation.

  Thankfully, he seemed to relax upon hearing that she agreed, for his more reserved bearing reasserted itself, suppressing the animated expression he had been wearing a second prior.

  “No, it does not. Now no one wishes to team up with me for missions. And since the rules state that you cannot take any of the good ones without a party, I am forced to take the bottom of the barrel jobs. I have been saving and getting by, but it will not help me get any stronger. And it is not as if I can get into silver-tier if I cannot hunt any monsters.”

  She was not sure whether he had forgotten her problem or was simply avoiding it, but his ramblings did provide her with some important info. The fact that the Adventurer’s Guild did have some safety measures in place was a relief, however small it may be. Meanwhile, the man was still talking.

  “—so I spend most days training, but that means I am not getting paid. I would like to join another group and disprove whatever rumors there are about me, but no one will take me because of said rumors.”

  Despite the fact that he had hijacked her issue, Issa could not find herself to be angry at him. Perhaps she was all out of negative emotions after her run in with Rayne, or maybe it was the way in which he was venting off his frustration, waving his arms around like a child bemoaning the unfairness of their bedtime. She felt a small smile form on her face at the comparison, but she doubted her companion would find it quite as funny.

  “Are you strong?” she asked while he was on a tangent about direwolves and mushrooms.

  He returned his attention to her as he pondered the question. “Yes. I am at the very least a high-tier bronze rank. I would say most of the people in my rank are significantly weaker than me, doubtful many of them have a single D-rank stat.”

  She was vaguely aware of stats and their ranks, most people were F-rank while decently fit people might break into E-rank. D-rank was generally considered where ‘superhuman’ ability began.

  “Why not train others then?” The adage ‘Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach.’ came to mind as she suggested it, but she did not think he would appreciate the sentiment. “You can charge for the service, train while teaching, and show everyone who you are.”

  He thought about it for a couple of seconds with a perplexed expression etched on his face. “There is no glory in teaching, though.”

  He said it with such a serious tone that she had little doubt he thought that was a significant issue, and she had to bite her lip to stop from giggling. It was just so ridiculous. Here he was, training beneath a public bridge and receiving consolation from the girl he’d been attempting to console, and he was still thinking of glory.

  “I wouldn’t say that. Every great hero had someone behind them who taught them to be great. We may have statues of Teron the Slayer, but from the history books, it is known that the one he respected the most was his teacher.” She could tell by the glint in his eyes that he was considering it, and the fact made her happy, though she couldn’t tell why. It was the absurdity of it all, she decided. That was it. The situation was just so patently absurd that some part of her found it funny. That and it felt good to have someone listen to her. At least one adventurer appreciated her advice…

  The thought darkened her mood slightly, but the tears did not return. And an instant later, the darkness was blown away once more when the man suddenly stood up a little straighter. Briefly, she thought to be scared, but then he smiled, a slow, confident smile that told her just how much he liked the idea. She did not know what to think when his eyes widened in alarm, however, and she tilted her head as he pointed at her, his mouth opening and closing suddenly before he found the words to speak.

  “Your friend! I apologize for getting off track.” He bowed to her, his face so full of sincerity that she could not help but laugh.

  “It’s fine, I don’t mind helping you out.” She pointed at his confused expression. “Besides, now you owe me some advice.” She had to stop herself from bursting out in laughter again as he took on a serious face and nodded.

  “Of course.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “You never answered whether he was successful or not.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t really know since he’s kept it hidden from me. I guess we have been eating a bit nicer than we used to, and he seems less stressed whenever coin is brought up.”

  Speaking of it now, she realized how much her brother had changed in the past month. He was much more confident in how he walked and spoke, and with the extra food and presumably exercise, he had filled out a bit for the first time in his life. That was not to say that he had been sickly, but he had never been one to exercise beyond the normal games that all children engaged in, so seeing him with actual muscle was a new experience.

  Oblivious to her mental review of her brother’s figure, the adventurer continued. “Then it seems he is succeeding.”

  Her good mood quickly vanished at the words as she fixed her glare upon him again. To his credit, he did not step back this time, but simply raised his hands to caution that he meant no harm.

  “Are you suggesting I just suck it up? Let him go out and risk his life some more!?”

  He shook his head. “Adventuring need not be a death sentence. Have him stick to low risk jobs, get himself properly geared and with a trustworthy team. Even fighting monsters can be safe work if you are sufficiently prepared.”

  Issa considered his words. It was practical advice, even if it grated against her sensibilities. It meant that she would need to allow her brother to continue adventuring despite his lying and the risk it posed, but the adventurer was right. Rayne seemed dead set on this, and if he was unwilling to quit, then she could at least try and persuade him to take every necessary precaution. Knowing him, he likely just assumed that playing it safe was enough, and he didn’t need to invest in his own wellbeing. That dummy.

  “As for the hiding it part,” the man continued. “I admit that I do not have much experience with the matter. Falsehoods and deception are unbecoming for one of my birth. If I were to make a suggestion, I would tell you to sincerely demand honesty from this point forward. It is hard to regain broken trust, but you shall have to try if you want any influence on his future activities. If he agrees, then you can try and veto missions you feel are unsafe and such.”

  It was not great advice considering that it relied on her brother telling her the truth—a task that was apparently difficult for him these days—but it was worth a shot, and Issa nodded heavily at the words. Given her reaction today, she felt it likely that her brother would continue to lie as much as he could in order to spare them both the heartache, but she had to try…

  “Thank you, you’ve given me much to think about.” She bowed slightly as she said this, to indicate her gratitude, while already planning her next move. The natural next step would be to return home and confront her brother. Despite that, she made no move to leave. Even if she had calmed down–and now had new ammunition for their eventual argument–it was a confrontation she dreaded, and one she was not quite ready to have just yet.

  The man eyed her cautiously, unsure of what to say himself. Seemingly sensing that the conversation was over, he returned the bow, then grabbed his blade and returned to swinging at the training dummy.

  For half an hour, they maintained this status quo, Issa formulating plans as her impromptu counselor trained. Finally ready to depart, Issa stood around uncertainly, waiting for the man to finish so that she might say her goodbyes. When he didn’t, she turned to leave, but something caused her to turn back. She was unsure what it was, but something compelled her to speak before they parted forever.

  “I’m Issa,” she spoke it quietly, but the man still heard.

  He paused during a downswing, but did not turn to look at her. “I am Leon.”

  “Thank you for the advice, Leon.”

  “You are welcome. Thank you for yours, Issa.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Neither moved or spoke for another few seconds before Leon returned to his swings. The following silence felt significantly more comfortable than it had before, and Issa departed, climbing out from under the bridge and back into the sunlight as she headed for home with newfound perspective and resolve.

  Her brother would see things her way. Whether he liked it or not.