A Day Off

A Day Off

By midday, Ravenhold looked much the same.

The sun continued its slow climb across the sky, while the chatter that had once filled the inn had faded. In its place came the sound of cloth being wrung dry, footsteps across wooden floors, and doors opening and closing without urgency in the main hall.

Halvor Inn had settled into its usual calm.

Thomas sat near the front table, counting something on a crumpled sheet of paper. His expression was serious, like someone doing extra work on a day meant for rest.

Behind the counter, Myra wiped a glass with a clean cloth.

“Our grain supplies are starting to run low,” she said.

Thomas lifted the paper slightly.

“Yeah, Mom. I’ll bring some back after work tomorrow.”

“Carrots and potatoes too.”

Thomas nodded and lowered the paper. His pen continued moving across the page.

Outside, the muted sounds of the city drifted through the open windows.

Ravenhold was never truly quiet. It merely changed its rhythm.

A small bell chimed as the door opened.

A brief gust of wind slipped inside, carrying the sweet scent of something freshly baked from the street.

A girl stepped in.

Her brown hair was neatly kept, and her clothes were simple but clean. She carried a small wrapped bundle in both hands.

“Good afternoon,” Myra said, still facing the glass.

“Afternoon, Aunt Myra.”

Thomas straightened in his chair.

“Oh. Selene.”

Selene glanced at the paper on the table.

“What’re you working on?”

“Extra work from your dad.”

A small chuckle escaped Selene.

Myra walked over and pulled her into a brief hug.

“Sit down first. I’ll get you something to drink.”

Selene took a seat and placed the bundle on the table.

Thomas looked at it.

“What’s that?”

“A little something from my mom,” Selene replied casually.

Myra returned with a glass and a small plate of fried cashews.

“Your mother always remembers the little things.” She set the plate down. “You’ve been well?”

Selene nodded.

“I have, Aunt.”

Thomas leaned back in his chair.

“No Guild duty today?”

“Shift swap.”

Thomas nodded.

“I’ve been hearing rumors. Beasts have been acting strange lately.”

Selene's fingers paused around her cup.

“Yeah. A lot of reports don’t match the usual patterns.”

She looked down at the drink.

“There’s something stranger too... but it’s not clear yet.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow.

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then he gave a faint smile.

“I used to want to be an adventurer.”

Selene looked up.

“Really?”

“Back when I’d just learned to make a tiny fireball.”

“And then?”

“I quit.”

The smile faded from Thomas’s face.

“After hearing my childhood friend’s father died on a mission.”

Selene fell silent.

Thomas lowered his eyes to the paper in front of him.

“Living a normal life like this feels safer.”

Myra said nothing to that. She simply picked up the wrapped bundle and placed it inside a cabinet.

“Everyone walks their own path.”

She glanced at Selene.

“Go on. Have some.”

“Thanks, Aunt.”

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

Only the quiet sound of chewing and the faint crackle of the dying fire filled the room.

Selene eventually broke the silence.

“So where is your childhood friend now?”

“Someone adopted him,” Thomas said. “I heard he joined the Royal Forces.”

“Talented?”

Thomas smirked.

“Either talent... or strong connections.”

Myra disappeared into the kitchen.

Thomas leaned back and let out a quiet yawn.

“How long have you been working as Guild staff now?”

“Over a year,” Selene said.

She picked up another cashew.

“I wanted to be one too. Dad didn’t allow it.”

Thomas laughed softly.

“Small world.”

Outside, footsteps passed in front of the inn before fading into the distance.

The fire crackled once more. Then it settled into silence. The day continued around them.

***

A soft knock came at the door.

“Come in.”

Teodor’s voice was low.

The door opened, and Leon stepped inside, carrying a roll of clean cloth and a small bottle. Air from the corridor slipped in with him, bringing a faint medicinal smell that mixed with the quiet chill of the room.

Teodor sat on the edge of the bed, his injured leg stretched out in front of him. The old bandage around his calf looked dull and frayed in several places from days of wear.

Leon closed the door behind him and set his supplies on the small wooden stand. He pulled the chair closer and sat beside the bed.

“There’s news from the western mine.”

Teodor turned his head slightly.

“What is it?”

Leon didn't answer right away.

He crouched beside Teodor’s leg and began loosening the stiffened bandages. The dry cloth came away slowly, layer by layer, uncoiling onto the floorboards.

The wound had dried, but traces of poison still left dark discoloration around the flesh.

“New victims,” Leon finally said. “Two people. Dead on the spot.”

He unstoppered the small bottle, poured some of the cool liquid onto a piece of clean linen, and pressed it against the wound.

Teodor swallowed quietly.

His eyes remained fixed on the wall ahead.

He said nothing.

Several seconds passed.

Only their breathing and the faint brush of cloth against skin filled the room.

Leon pulled the linen taut and wrapped the fresh bandage around Teodor’s calf, each layer overlapping the last. He tied the final knot with practiced ease, then rose from the chair.

“The condition was bad,” he continued. “One of them was barely intact.”

Teodor’s eyes dropped to his leg.

The new bandage was clean and white against his skin.

“The Guild moving?”

“Don’t know.”

Leon stepped back half a pace and inspected his work.

“Done.”

Teodor nodded.

“Thanks.”

Leon rubbed the back of his neck, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

“I’m heading out for a bit. Call me if anything comes up.”

He opened the door, and another draft slipped into the room.

Before stepping into the corridor, Leon paused with one hand against the doorframe.

“We weren’t wrong to pull back.”

Teodor lifted his gaze.

“I know.”

The door closed with a low click.

Silence settled over the room again.

Teodor drew a slow breath and leaned his back against the wall.

***

The inn door opened again.

The small bell above it chimed as a cool breeze slipped inside.

Selene lifted her gaze from her cup.

A young man stepped through the doorway, carrying a bucket of water in one hand and a bundle of clean clothes tucked beneath one arm. His hair was still slightly damp, and the hem of his shirt had darkened with moisture.

He paused near the door and shifted the bucket away from his leg before walking in.

Thomas turned from the table.

“Oh. Zio.”

Zio gave a short nod and continued across the hall.

Selene followed him with her eyes.

“Selene,” Thomas said, gesturing toward her with his pen. “Uncle Albert’s daughter. She works with us.”

Then he turned toward Zio.

“This is Zio. He’s staying at the inn too.”

Zio glanced over.

Another small nod.

Selene returned it politely.

Zio stopped beside the table and set his bundle down.

From the kitchen doorway, Myra glanced his way.

“Sit down first,” she said. “Don’t just stand there.”

Zio pulled out a chair and sat.

He placed the bucket beneath it, then rested his hands on his thighs.

Selene picked up a cashew from the plate and bit into it slowly.

The air carried the clean scent of soap and damp fabric.

Thomas flicked a glance toward Selene before turning back to Zio.

“How was the river?”

“Clear.”

Zio’s answer was brief.

He sat quietly, his attention fixed somewhere ahead.

Selene took another sip from her cup. A thin wisp of steam curled above the surface.

“You washed at the river?”

“Yeah.”

She glanced at Thomas.

“You didn’t mess with him, did you?”

“I’m not that cruel.” Thomas chuckled. “Ask Zio yourself.”

Selene turned toward him.

Her eyes lingered briefly on Zio’s arms, the skin still damp from the river, before returning to his face.

Zio shifted slightly in his chair.

The legs made a faint scrape against the wooden floor.

He said nothing.

Outside, the wheels of a passing cart rolled along the street before fading into the distance.

The fire in the hearth crackled softly.

Myra stepped out from the kitchen carrying a cup of hot tea. She noticed the bucket beneath Zio’s chair, then placed the cup in front of him.

“Here.”

Zio looked down at it.

“Thanks.”

Myra gave a small nod and returned to the kitchen.

The room settled back into its quiet rhythm.

***

Orange light clung to the edges of the inn’s windows, stretching across the wooden floor as the room slowly emptied. Sounds from the street softened, fading beneath the approach of dusk.

Zio stood and picked up the bucket beneath his chair.

“I’ll head up to my room.”

Thomas gave a short nod from his table.

Zio walked toward the stairs, his steps slow and deliberate. The wooden boards creaked faintly beneath his feet.

Selene stood as well and straightened her chair.

Her eyes drifted toward the stairs once or twice as Zio’s footsteps faded upstairs.

She pushed the small plate back toward the center of the table.

“I’m heading back.”

Thomas lifted a hand without looking up.

“Take care.”

“Send my regards to your mother,” Myra called from behind the counter.

“I will, Aunt.”

Selene opened the door.

Evening air slipped inside, carrying the scent of streets cooling beneath the fading light.

The small bell chimed.

Then fell silent.

Selene stepped onto the stone road. Long shadows stretched across it as people made their way home. She joined the passing crowd and disappeared among them.

Inside, the inn grew quiet again.

Myra extinguished one of the lamps, leaving the corners of the hall in soft twilight.

The hearth fire had dwindled to a bed of embers.

Thomas remained at his table, the crumpled sheet of paper still in front of him.

Myra glanced toward the stairs.

“Don’t forget to eat later,” she called.

No answer came from upstairs.

She turned back toward the counter.

Outside, Ravenhold continued settling into the evening.