The trio continued their walk down the cobbled street, the chaos of the Sunstone Festival receding behind them. Ayron felt a cleansing wave of relief wash over him. He was out of the center of attention, a position he instinctively avoided, but, ironically, it was drawn to him. As they strolled, the recent, volatile situation with the drunken patron replayed in Ayron’s mind; a highlight reel of good intentions leading to unwanted visibility. He was trying his best to blend in, and yet he had done the exact opposite. This wasn't a new phenomenon. In fact, it occurred with such frequency that the young man wished he could deny it. Countless covert missions with his former organization, GoldHD, had been compromised or complicated precisely because of Ayron’s unshakeable, and often ill-timed, sense of justice.

  “So, where are you from?” Jak asked, breaking the comfortable silence. He seemed less concerned about his throbbing head now that the initial adrenaline had faded, his tone shifting to one of easygoing curiosity. “We get a lot of tourists this time of year, especially for the festival. I always like to know how far someone’s traveled to see our neck of the world.”

  “I’ve been all around,” Ayron replied, keeping his tone deliberately vague. “My previous line of work required a lot of travel. I was never able to settle down in one place for long.”

  “That sounds like fun! I’ve always wanted to travel!” Jaysi squealed, her previous distress forgotten in favor of romanticized wanderlust. “I’ve never left our kingdom. It’s always been my dream to go to Trepidya in the northwest! I’ve always wanted to get my hands on an original Elleri handbag!”

  The foreigner's ears perked up instantly at the mention of the familiar territory name. ‘So I’m still on Ardor, that’s a relief,’ Ayron thought, the internal confirmation a small anchor in his swirling confusion. ‘I wonder how far south we are in comparison to Trepidya. I didn’t think there was land past that kingdom. Perhaps we’re on an island, or on the southern tip of a continent I wasn't aware of.’ Coming to the end of the street, his attention was drawn to a large, stout pub occupying the corner, with several patrons passing through the heavy wooden doors. The smell of frying meat and sweet ale was starting to reach them. “Is this our stop?”

  “It is,” Jak confirmed with a nod, his thumb pointing toward the corner bar’s weathered sign. “Our dad owns the tavern; it has some of the best food and drinks in the whole kingdom.”

  Ayron smirked, pleased that his assumption about their relationship was correct. “Smells delicious.” His mouth began to water instantly as the savory scent of the kitchen wafted out of the doors and into his nostrils, overriding the cautious internal monologue. Reaching the corner first, Ayron turned the brass handle to pull the door open for his acquaintances. The foreigner took a seat along the long, polished bar, between the duo.

  The moment he stepped across the threshold, Ayron sensed a strong, almost physical presence in the tavern. Over the years, the young man had developed what he internally termed a ‘sixth sense’; an acute, extraordinary ability to pick up on the strongest individuals in a room. The skill had proven invaluable during his time with GoldHD, allowing him to quickly assess and categorize potential threats, knowing precisely which targets were beyond his current skill level and should be avoided or approached with extreme caution. After nearly two decades of honing this subtle detection, the young man was proficient enough to pinpoint the exact location and approximate strength of the powerful individuals.

  While most of the pub was filled with the low-level hum of average patrons enjoying their evening, one figure stood out like a blazing beacon. The bald man behind the bar possessed an intense ki. Ayron seldom encountered individuals like him. It wasn't merely a high level of physical strength; it was deep-seated power that radiated a calm, controlled intensity. The foreigner immediately presumed the man was a warrior of exceptional caliber in a former life, or perhaps still was, merely hiding in plain sight.

  “Dad!” Jak called out, waving across the bar to the older man. “We’re back from the festival.”

  As Ayron observed him, he noticed the quiet, almost rigid way he carried himself; a posture of coiled readiness that contradicted his role as a tavern owner. The sheer magnitude of the man's power, emanating from a random pub owner, left the foreigner with several immediate, pressing questions.

  “Hey kids,” a man whose nametag read ‘Kaysi’ spoke up, his voice a low, gravelly sound, not looking away from the glass as he poured. “Did you have fun?”

  “It was… Eventful?” Jak attempted to find the right words, wincing slightly as he spoke. “Definitely not what we expected.”

  “We made a new friend!” the sister exclaimed, her voice bright, gesturing dramatically to Ayron, who was sitting quietly between the brother-sister duo. “He saved me from a drunk patron who wouldn't take no for an answer.”

  Kaysi finally looked up from his work after passing a handful of freshly poured drinks across the bar to waiting hands. His sharp eyes immediately fell upon the bruising already blossoming on the side of his son’s face, then flickered to the stranger's disheveled yet strangely composed look. The silence he projected was heavy. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?” he instructed, his tone not aggressive, but demanding attention.

  Jak was the first to speak, his hands gesturing expressively as the story unfolded. “We were on our way back to the tavern. I didn’t have much luck at the carnival games, so we called it early. There was this older man, hooting and hollering near the edge of the festival area. We tried to pass through quickly when Jaysi caught his eye. The man started cat-calling her and requesting dates loudly; each ‘compliment’ became more aggressive.”

  The sister butted in with impeccable timing. “I declined politely four separate times before Jak stepped in to try to defuse the situation. The guy told Jak to stay out of it. Jak tried to be nice, even offering to buy him a drink at the tavern to get him to leave us alone. The man responded by punching him, right in the jaw.” Jaysi glanced at her older brother. “Poor thing stumbled backwards into a wooden stall.” She pouted genuinely as she checked her brother’s face, seeing that the bruising had worsened since she last checked. “That’s when our friend here stepped in,” she concluded, gesturing once more to Ayron.

  “He popped the guy’s shoulder like it was nothing! I’ve never seen anything like it. One quick move and the guy was on the ground screaming,” Jak added, a touch of awe still in his voice.

  “Does the friend have a name? Or does he only have quick hands?” the tavern owner inquired, his eyes now fixed solely on the young man between his children.

  “Ayron, sir,” the young man replied, offering Kaysi a brief, respectful nod. The older man was truly scrutinizing him now, much like Ayron had done the moment he walked in. ‘Does the tavern owner also possess a ‘sixth sense’?’ Ayron mused. The way Kaysi was gazing at him, with a look of deep, non-judgmental assessment, made the young man believe their unique abilities might be shared.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Hm.” Kaysi nodded back, acknowledging the name. “Here for the Sunstone Festival?”

  “I decided to pop in,” Ayron chuckled. The attempt at dark humor fell flat, given the gravity of his situation.

  “First time in Laudmuth?” the owner inquired, naming the town that Ayron had not yet learned.

  “Yep,” the young man nodded in confirmation. Internally, he was rapidly contemplating whether he could trust the powerful older man in front of him. He was strong, immensely so, and it was plausible that, with decades of experience, he might have come across something as anomalous as Ayron's situation.

  “Something on your mind?” Kaysi raised a brow, the question cutting through Ayron’s mental debate.

  Once again, Ayron’s stomach began doing the talking for him. “Sorry, I haven’t had anything to eat since early this morning.”

  “We can chat later. Let’s get those stomachs filled!” Kaysi pulled a pad of paper off the counter, writing down several things before placing the ticket on the pick. “Order! Make it snappy! Our friend is hungry out here!”

  Once their appetites were satiated, Ayron was able to think more clearly. He still had several things to attend to, and he was losing daylight by the minute. He wondered if there was any valuable information he could gain here. The young man was sure the tavern saw a multitude of diverse patrons. After being here for only thirty minutes, people from various walks of life have made their way into the space. The business was experiencing a lull before the evening crowd arrived. Ayron decided to take this opportunity to get some info, find a bank to exchange his money, get a place to stay for the night, and figure out how to get back.

  A chilling realization came to the foreigner, as he didn’t have a place to truly call home. He was estranged from his family, and for the two years he worked with GoldHD never planted roots anywhere. Now that he was free from his contract, did he truly want to go back and sit behind a desk for the rest of his life?

  “Can I take your plates?” Kaysi passed the trio as they were finishing their meals. They each thanked him before the brother ordered another round for the three. Ayron nearly declined, but something about his current predicament changed his decision. The tavern owner made his rounds once again with their drinks. He noticed the young man in the middle playing with his beverage.

  “Something on your mind?” the tavern owner questioned as he leaned against the back bar.

  Deciding to take the risk, Ayron leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice. “Have you ever seen anyone who dresses like me in your tavern before?”

  The owner paused, his gaze drifting away for a moment as if sifting through generations of memories. “It’s been decades,” Kaysi admitted, returning his gaze, his eyes reflecting a distant memory. “They wore the same style of clothes, but didn’t know our language nearly as well as you. They were… lost.”

  Ayron sighed, the information being less helpful than he’d hoped, yet still confirming a precedent. “I have a somewhat strange question,” he began, steeling himself for the inevitable reaction.

  “Go ahead,” Kaysi replied, his neutral expression holding steady as he crossed his arms. “I’ve heard a lot of strange tales in my years of running this place.”

  “Have you heard anyone talk about people ‘falling out of the sky’?” The strange looks Ayron received nearly made him regret asking in the first place. The brother and sister stared at him as if he’d grown another head; a reaction of pure, bewildered disbelief. Kaysi’s expression remained stubbornly neutral, almost unreadable, suggesting he was processing the request with a detached seriousness.

  “Now that you mention it,” Kaysi recalled, his eyes narrowing slightly in concentration. “There was a patron a few months ago who swore on his life that he watched someone fall from the sky outside the town limits. He had several drinks in him, so no one paid much attention to the old coot. We wrote it off as drunken rambling.”

  “What if I were to tell you,” Ayron said, leaning in even further, speaking in a strained, loud whisper that nearly blended in with the low, rolling lul of the tavern’s ambient noise. “That’s exactly how I ended up in this town. And, I’m not exactly sure how to get back to where I was.”

  Kaysi’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of genuine surprise finally cracking his stone-like composure. His two children next to Ayron also gasped, their jaws dropping in unison. The whisper had achieved a far greater effect than he anticipated.

  “What kingdom did you come from?” Jaysi inquired.

  “Before I was dropped into Laudmuth, I was in a hospital in northern Piquia,” Ayron admitted, realizing there was no point hiding his past from the people who were going to help him. “I moved around frequently over the last two-and-a-half years, but I was born in a small village in ‘The Shadow Realm’ called Haamu.”

  “The Shadow Realm?!” Jaysi whispered loudly, “I didn’t think that place actually existed!”

  Kaysi’s features showed a mix of disbelief and utter shock.

  “Dad, what about Raider’s Tower?” Jak inquired, quickly moving past the statement. “He’s got fighting skill!”

  “At the very least, he could earn some money to get home,” Jaysi added.

  “What is this Raider’s Tower?” Ayron looked between them.

  “It’s the national fighters guild, with headquarters in several kingdoms. Citizens who enjoy sparring use it to relieve stress, while others join to earn a place to stay. They maintain strong community bonds through local assistance contracts. Beyond daily sparring matches, the guild hosts headline fights and tournaments of all kinds.” Kaysi grinned. “Past tournament prizes have included large cash prizes, free lodging for a year, and even the chance to have questions answered by Vidya the All-knowing.”

  Recalling his travels, the young man remembered seeing another Raider’s Tower location while on a mission in Fillicity. He never stopped in, as he didn’t have the time. Ayron’s ears perked at the end of the sentence, his interest piqued. “You’re saying I could earn money for a way home, and find out how I got here?”

  “Problem is: I’m not sure when that prize will be up for grabs again,” Kaysi admitted. His features conveyed his disappointment, not wanting to get his hopes up. “I’m sure it’ll come around again, but it could be weeks to a year from now. As a former instructor, I’m privy to a lot of information; prize rotation, unfortunately, isn’t one of them.”

  “Instructor?” Ayron’s eyes widened as he connected the dots. ‘That explains why he’s so strong. I wonder, would I be able to take him on?’

  “Yep,” the tavern owner smiled, a reminiscent look on his features. “In another lifetime, I was the instructor for the elite tower, a special sector where the best of the best in the guild train. I was the trainer for nearly three decades, until Athen beat me in a ten-day spar.” Kaysi sighed happily, remembering the day his protege finally took his place. The older man looked the newcomer up and down. “You can stay here overnight. Tomorrow, we’ll spar and see what you’re made of. Raider’s Tower offers lodging to individuals who meet a certain criterion. If you join the guild, I believe you’ll find your way back to where you came from. Whataya say?”

  Ayron contemplated the older man’s words. It was an unorthodox plan to say the least. However, he wasn’t sure what to do in this situation. Internally, the young man tried to rationalize a way out of this, realizing this was probably his best and nearly only shot of getting back to Piquia. Even if he were to find a bank to trade in his money, thirty debiti would only go so far. He needed a way to make an income, which this guild would provide.

  “I’ll take you up on that offer. Thank you for the generosity.” Ayron smiled gratefully.

  “Good! We’ll start first thing in the morning, bright and early!” Kaysi grinned.