Houshao'nao's eyes misted over. He turned away, hiding his expression from the donkey. After a long silence, he faced it again. "Fine. Since you've decided, I won't stop you. But know this: I'm returning for survival. If you want to leave, go anytime."
"I understand," the donkey replied.
"Let's go." Houshao'nao stroked its head, voice softening.
And so, the singed donkey and the young man with half his hair and all his eyebrows burned away cautiously reentered Mecca Town's streets. Townsfolk stared, eyes wide with surprise at their bedraggled appearance.
"Hey, you're brave to come back—Miss Anna hasn't left yet," a kindly resident whispered.
Houshao'nao swallowed his unease. "Thanks for the warning, brother. It was just a misunderstanding. I'm sure she's calmed down."
The man shrugged, giving up. "Suit yourself. Just thought I'd mention it."
After thanking him, Houshao'nao led the donkey to the well. He drew a bucket of water, staring at his haggard reflection in the rippling surface. With a bitter smile, he splashed his face…
That afternoon, he bathed the donkey again—thoroughly, gently, until its hide shone. The donkey offered no cheeky requests, only stood silent as Houshao'nao's hands moved over its skin, a strange peace settling between them.
In the mercenary guild, Houshao'nao sat in a corner, clutching a. Though Boss Jon had left him coins, years of poverty had ingrained frugality—he bought only bread, gnawing slowly, thoughtfully…
"Hey, why only a?" a melodic voice asked beside him.
Assuming a guild worker was chasing him off, Houshao'nao suppressed his irritation, head down. "Sorry. I'll leave once I'm done."
"Giggle, I'm not chasing you. I mean, why no vegetables?" the girl laughed.
He looked up, startled. "I… I can't afford them. So…"
"No money? But you said you had gold coins the other day! Did a thief take them?" Dier, the elf, asked, curious.
"N-no. I just don't want to waste them," he stammered.
"Ah, I get it." She pushed a plate into his line of sight. "I can't finish this. Share it with me?"
The plate held simple vegetables, no meat, but Houshao'nao's heart warmed. He looked up to see Dier's radiant smile—she was the elf from the tavern.
"Dier?" he recognized her instantly.
"Mhm. Eat up, don't be shy." She sat beside him, placing the plate between them.
"No, I can't take your food." He pushed it back.
"Why? Is it bad? I'm poor too, so I buy the cheapest dishes. Don't mind," Dier blushed, explaining.
"No, it's not that. I just…" He trailed off, helpless.
Dier studied him, eyes twinkling with understanding. "I get it—you're embarrassed because there's not much. Truth is, I hate these vegetables. I only eat a little. Please, don't let them go to waste."
She pressed the plate into his hands, grinning. Houshao'nao wasn't disgusted—he was starving, but years of hurt had made him wary of kindness, especially from women. Yet Dier's gaze was clear, earnest. *Refusing would hurt her.* He hesitated, then nodded.
"Giggle, you're so shy for a man! How cute…" Dier teased, hiding a smile behind her hand.
"T-thank you. But I won't take this for free. If you need help, find me—I'm attendant to Master Sheffield now," he mumbled, blushing.
"Noted! So we're colleagues then? You work for the Master, who owns the tavern, and I work there too. See?" She counted on her fingers, serious.
Houshao'nao stuffed and veggies into his mouth, nodding vigorously as he chewed. Suddenly, he choked, coughing violently.
"Ha! Eat slower. I'll get you water," Dier laughed, hopping up to the bar.
"Th-thanks…" he managed, pounding his chest.
"No need—friends don't thank each other," she called back, smiling.
Just as Dier turned for the bar, Houshao'nao spotted Master Sheffield in the alley between the tavern and guild. He jumped up, leaving the plate on the bench, and swallowed hard, rushing over.
"M-master! Heading out?" he panted.
Sheffield paused, frowning. "There you are. What happened to your hair?"
"I… I practiced magic earlier, stood downwind by mistake. The fire backfired. So…" he lied, avoiding eye contact.
"Practiced magic?" Sheffield asked, confused.
"Yes, Master Kerry taught me. I'm too clumsy. I'll stop, I promise," Houshao'nao said, head bowed.
"Nonsense. Just be careful next time," Sheffield sighed.
"Thank you, Master. Did you need me for something?"
"Come—there are letters to deliver."
"Yes, Master."
As Houshao'nao followed Sheffield to his office, Dier returned with water, only to see him leaving. He pressed a finger to his lips, gesturing to Sheffield and the forgotten plate. She nodded, smiling, as he vanished around the corner.
They reached the office door just as shuffling sounds came from inside—someone was rummaging.
"Thief?" Houshao'nao whispered, pulling Sheffield back.
"Relax, I know who it is…" Sheffield said, though he tensed.
A girl's voice rang out: "Dad, is that you? Get in here! I can't handle your pet lizard dragon—let go, you little monster!"
Houshao'nao froze. That voice belonged to Anna—the beauty who'd tried to burn him and the donkey. He groaned inwardly, praying: *Please, let her not be in a mood.*
Sheffield, oblivious to Houshao'nao's panic, pushed open the door. A surge of magic energy escaped, along with:
"Anna, what did you do? Don't provoke my little treasure—you know how long it took to capture him!" Sheffield chided.
"Not my fault! I just wanted to check the letters, and this thing attacked me from under the desk! I would've roasted it if it weren't yours," Anna huffed.
"Lucky you didn't. Now, go home. Tell your mother to prepare your things—school starts in two weeks, and I won't have you—"
"Yea, yea, Dad. So boring. Hey, little guy, come out! I'll take you for a walk—" Anna ignored him, cooing at the desk.
Sheffield sighed, calling out: "Your mother spoils you. Houshao'nao, enter."
"Y-yes, Master." Houshao'nao swallowed, legs trembling as he shuffled in.
Anna, standing beside Sheffield, gasped, then burst into laughter, pointing at his charred hair. "Hahahaha! *This* is your attendant? Hahah!"
"Anna, control yourself," Sheffield scolded, though he smiled faintly.
"Sorry, sorry! It's just—" She dissolved into giggles, especially knowing she'd caused his disheveled state.