Chapter 7: The Value of Glitter and Groceries

  The Whispering Woods fell into a heavy, uncomfortable silence, broken only by the soft, silvery murmurs of the pale leaves overhead. The massive Giant Horned Badger lay completely motionless against the cracked stone of the ravine, a testament to the absurd, monstrous physical power hiding within the cheerfully smiling seventeen-year-old boy.

  The girl with the spiky crimson hair stood frozen, her vibrant emerald green eyes locked onto the glittering, useless pile of crystalline dust that used to be the rarest, most valuable monster drop in the entire region. Her chest heaved rapidly under her green leather armor as she tried to process the sheer magnitude of the financial loss that had just occurred in the blink of an eye.

  "Helping?" she repeated, her voice dropping to a dangerously low, trembling whisper. She slowly raised her hands, burying her face in her palms and letting out a long, agonizing groan that echoed miserably off the ravine walls. "You call turning fifty gold coins into shiny sand... helping? Do you even know what fifty gold coins look like? I could have paid a full year of rent for a room with a real bed! I could have bought a new steel sword that doesn't rust every time someone sneezes on it! I could have eaten warm stew every single night instead of stale bread!"

  Zeno blinked his large amber eyes, his smile fading into a look of genuine, innocent confusion. He looked at her boots, noting the worn leather and the frayed stitching. Then he looked back at the pile of dust. He truly did not understand the complex mechanics of city currency or the concept of rent. In the Elderwood Forest, Master Shifu had taught him that the only things of true value were a strong center, a sharp mind, and a full stomach.

  "I am sorry your sword is rusty," Zeno said earnestly, taking a step forward. "But the big rug was going to poke a hole in your stomach. Master Shifu says a hole in the stomach is very bad for digestion. You cannot eat warm stew if you have a hole in your stomach. It will just spill out."

  The girl lowered her hands, glaring at him. She wanted to yell at him again, she truly did. She wanted to berate him for his complete lack of common sense. But as she looked into his wide, honest amber eyes, she saw absolutely no malice, no arrogance, and no understanding of his mistake. He was just a boy in a simple white tunic who had genuinely, fearlessly thrown himself in front of a charging, wagon-sized beast to save a complete stranger.

  She let out a long, defeated sigh, her tense shoulders finally slumping. The faint, swirling pale-green aura of her wind-attribute Tena faded away entirely, leaving her feeling physically exhausted and drained.

  "You are an absolute idiot," she muttered, though the fiery anger had drained from her voice, replaced by a profound weariness. She walked over to where her twin curved daggers lay on the rocky ground and scooped them up, sliding them smoothly into the leather sheaths strapped to her thighs. "But... you are an idiot who saved my life. The badger had me cornered. My capacity was running empty. I couldn't have blocked that charge."

  She walked toward him, stopping a few feet away. "I am Lyra. Rank E scout. Thank you for not letting me get skewered, even if you did destroy my chance at a warm bed."

  Zeno’s bright grin immediately returned in full force. He reached out and shook her hand enthusiastically. Her hand was small but incredibly calloused, the hands of someone who trained relentlessly with their weapons. "I am Zeno! I am Rank F! My class is Novice Pugilist! And I have Iron Stomach!"

  Lyra pulled her hand back, rubbing her knuckles. "Iron Stomach? Is that why you were talking about digestion? Never mind. Listen, Zeno. We can't just leave this carcass here. The horn is gone, which is a tragedy I will mourn for weeks, but the Giant Horned Badger’s pelt is incredibly tough. It's used to make heavy armor. The claws are also valuable for crafting weapons. If we harvest it now, we might still be able to make ten or fifteen silver coins."

  Zeno nodded eagerly. "Okay! I will help! How do we harvest it? Do I punch it again?"

  "No! Please, keep your fists away from it!" Lyra said quickly, her emerald eyes widening in panic. She reached into a small pouch on her belt and pulled out a short, incredibly sharp hunting knife with a bone handle. "I will do the skinning. I just need you to help me roll the carcass over when I tell you to. It easily weighs a thousand pounds, and I don't have the physical strength to move it by myself."

  For the next hour, the rocky ravine became a makeshift butcher's yard. Lyra worked with practiced, efficient precision. Her green Tena flickered faintly around the edge of her hunting knife, allowing the small blade to slice through the thick, bristly hide of the badger with surprising ease. She was careful, methodical, and clearly experienced in surviving the harsh realities of the adventurer lifestyle.

  Zeno proved to be an invaluable, if highly unorthodox, assistant. Whenever Lyra needed the massive beast shifted, Zeno simply grabbed a fistful of fur and heaved. His base Strength stat of 25 allowed him to toss the thousand-pound carcass around as if it were a light sack of flour. When Lyra struggled to separate the thick, curved claws from the badger's massive paws, Zeno simply gripped the bone and snapped it clean off with a sharp twist of his wrists, handing the terrifying claws to her like they were interesting pebbles.

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  By the time they finished, the sun had fully set beneath the horizon, plunging the Whispering Woods into deep, oppressive darkness. The murmuring sound of the silver leaves grew louder in the night breeze. Lyra wiped the sweat from her forehead, tying the massive, heavy bundle of striped fur tightly with a thick coil of hemp rope.

  "It's too dark to travel back to Oakhaven now," Lyra announced, looking up at the narrow strip of starry sky visible through the canopy above the ravine. "The nocturnal predators in these woods are much faster and more aggressive. We need to set up camp here for the night and head back at first light."

  Zeno’s stomach chose that exact moment to let out a loud, echoing rumble that sounded suspiciously like a dying bear. "Camp means dinner, right? I ate a glowing mushroom earlier, but it just tasted like cold dirt."

  Lyra stared at him, utterly bewildered. "You ate a raw Moonglow Mushroom? Are you completely insane? Those are highly toxic until they are boiled and refined by an alchemist! You should be violently ill right now!"

  "Iron Stomach," Zeno repeated proudly, patting his belly. "The blue window told me it fixed the bad stuff. But it didn't fill me up at all."

  Lyra shook her head, deciding that trying to understand the boy’s biology was a pointless endeavor. "Gather some dry wood. Nothing that glows, nothing that smells sweet, and absolutely nothing that moves. Just dry, dead branches. I will clear a safe spot for the fire."

  Ten minutes later, a modest pile of dry wood sat in the center of the rocky clearing. Lyra reached for her flint and steel, but before she could strike a spark, Zeno leaned forward.

  He narrowed his amber eyes, concentrating intensely. He drew the absolute smallest fraction of Tena he could manage, terrified of blowing up the campfire. A tiny, unstable spark of blue energy flickered at the tip of his index finger. He tapped the dry wood.

  Fwoosh.

  The wood instantly caught fire, burning bright and warm, casting dancing orange shadows against the tall walls of the ravine. Lyra put her flint away, watching him closely.

  "Your Tena," Lyra began slowly, sitting cross-legged on the stone floor, the firelight reflecting in her bright green eyes. "It is incredibly dense. When you punched that badger, I felt a pressure that nearly made me pass out. But when I try to sense your capacity now, it feels like... nothing. Like a gentle breeze. How is that possible?"

  Zeno reached into his white tunic and pulled out the small, dull grey river pebble attached to a simple leather cord around his neck. It rested against his chest. "Master Shifu gave me this rock. He called it a Suppression Stone. He told me to keep my energy hidden so people wouldn't stare at me. He said my capacity is four hundred and fifty, but my control is very bad. That's why I usually break things."

  Lyra’s jaw dropped slightly. She stared at the dull grey stone, then at his messy hair. "Four hundred and fifty? At seventeen? Zeno, I have been training my wind Tena since I was eight years old, doing quests every single day, and my capacity just reached one hundred and twenty. You are walking around with the energy reserves of a high-tier Guild Master."

  "Is that a lot?" Zeno asked innocently, pulling a slightly squished apple from his backpack and taking a massive bite.

  "Yes, it is a lot," Lyra sighed, reaching into her own pack and pulling out two strips of dried, heavily salted beef jerky. She handed one to Zeno, who accepted it with a grateful grin and immediately devoured it in two bites. "But power without control is just a hazard. If you use too much energy in the city, you could destroy a building by accident. You need to learn how to weave your Tena, not just detonate it."

  "Master Shifu said the same thing," Zeno mumbled around a mouthful of apple. "He made me try to hold leaves in the air. I kept shredding them into tiny pieces. He said I treat a needle like a sledgehammer."

  The crackling of the campfire filled the space between them, offering a comfortable, warm slice of life amidst the harshness of the wilderness. The night air was chilly, but the fire provided a safe, glowing haven.

  "Who is Master Shifu?" Lyra asked, taking small, polite bites of her beef jerky, making it last.

  "He is my master. He lives in the Elderwood Forest," Zeno explained, leaning back on his hands and looking up at the stars. "He is very old, very grumpy, and he reads too many books. But he is very strong. He found me in a basket near the Silver Stream when I was a baby. I am going to become a great adventurer, travel the Nine Kingdoms, and find my parents. I want to ask them why they left me in a basket."

  Lyra’s expression softened considerably. The fierce, aggressive edge she carried as a solo adventurer melted away in the warm firelight. She looked down at her lap, her spiky crimson hair casting long shadows over her eyes. "I'm an orphan too. Grew up in the lower districts of Oakhaven. There were no wise masters to teach me, just the streets. I joined the Guild to survive, but they charge for equipment, for training manuals, for health potions. I took on a massive Guild debt just to buy these daggers and a decent pair of boots. That horn... that horn was my ticket to paying off my debt and finally being free."

  Zeno looked at her, his large amber eyes filled with genuine empathy. He didn't understand the complex nature of debt, but he completely understood the heavy sadness in her voice.

  "You can share my food," Zeno offered brightly, reaching into his bag and pulling out another slightly squished apple, holding it out to her. "And if anyone tries to take your daggers, I will punch them with a needle."

  Lyra looked at the apple, then at the boy’s ridiculously sincere, goofy grin. For the first time since he had shattered her massive payday, the crimson-haired girl genuinely smiled. She took the apple.

  "Thanks, Zeno. We should get some sleep. Tomorrow, we take that massive rug back to the city, and we get paid."