The Things We Don't Say

The sun was low, casting long shadows across the road as the three walked down the cobbled street leading out of the west gate. A completed quest behind them, coin purses a little heavier—though not by much—and Kael humming a tune that clashed wildly with the mood.

Lian’s shoulders slumped. “This is… not sustainable.”

Kael glanced at him. “The road?”

“Us. Doing quests like this. Barely making enough to cover food. Getting stabbed. Set on fire. Almost eaten.”

“We didn’t get eaten,” she grinned. “Only nearly consumed by an interdimensional specter. Totally different.”

Mira raised an eyebrow. “You’re bleeding.”

Kael glanced down at the scrape on her leg. “Oh. Huh. Neat.”

They walked in silence for a moment. Then Lian spoke again, quieter this time.

“You know why I do this?” he said.

Kael turned toward him, mid-stretch. Mira listened without turning her head.

“I’m not gifted. You know that.”

Neither girl responded.

“I see how this world works,” Lian said, eyes fixed ahead. “The gifted get chosen. They get power, prestige, they get to matter. The rest? We watch from the sides. No real chances. Just work, struggle, and maybe—if we’re lucky—we survive long enough to grow old doing the same thing every day.”

He paused, then added more quietly, “I’ve already had one life like that. It didn’t mean much. It just… ended.”

Kael and Mira both turned slightly toward him, but said nothing.

“I don’t want to waste this one too,” he went on, voice low but firm. “Even if I wasn’t born with anything special, even if I don’t shine like the others, maybe if I keep pushing, keep moving... I’ll figure out what this life is supposed to be. And maybe this time, it won’t be pointless.”

Kael’s humming stopped. The silence that followed was long and brittle.

He chuckled nervously. “Anyway. Just wanted to say it out loud, I guess.”

Kael didn’t answer. Mira slowed her pace, but kept walking. Both looked serious in a way that felt unnatural coming from them.

“I didn’t mean to make it weird,” Lian said.

“You didn’t,” Mira answered.

Kael stuffed her hands into her jacket. “Some things are just hard to talk about.”

Lian nodded. Then, quietly, “You guys don’t want to say why you’re here.”

“No,” Kael said softly.

“No,” Mira echoed.

The silence returned, but this time it felt heavier. Honest, maybe. Not awkward.

Just… real.

They turned into a busier street. Shops, carts, the usual street noise of late afternoon. And then—

“You lying rat! I risked my neck for your damn field and now you say you won’t pay?!”

A man in polished armor shoved a scrawny older villager against a cart. A few bystanders stopped, watching with discomfort but not daring to intervene.

The villager raised both hands, trembling. “I told you, I don’t have it! Not yet!”

“You’re lying. You promised. I cleared your field from those rats, I broke the nest, I deserve what’s mine!”

Lian stopped walking. “Let’s go around. Not our problem.”

Mira looked ahead but didn’t move.

The armored man raised a hand, curled into a fist.

And then Kael stepped forward.

“Hey!” she shouted.

The hero turned, eyes narrowing. “What?”

Kael walked quickly toward them, drawing everyone’s attention. “You’re going to hit an unarmed man because he’s poor? That’s what being a ‘hero’ means to you?”

“He made a deal.”

“He’s scared. And he said he doesn’t have the money. So back off. I’ll cover it.”

Lian grabbed her arm. “Kael, no. We don’t even have enough for food next week.”

“It’s not about the money,” she said. “It’s about the principle.”

The armored man smirked. “It’s not money.”

Kael stopped. “What?”

He folded his arms. “It wasn’t gold he promised. It was an object. And I will get it back.”

Lian tensed. “What kind of object?”

The hero’s smile deepened.