Chapter 34 – First Conversation

  It wasn’t too late yet, but Ravenhold was never truly quiet.

  Zio lay flat on his back on the bed in his room. His eyes stayed open, fixed on the wooden ceiling above him, the old seams barely visible in the dim light.

  Footsteps echoed through the inn’s corridors, followed by doors opening and closing without urgency.

  Soft laughter, the scrape of chairs, and the gentle clink of glasses slipped in from other rooms, passing through the thick wooden walls.

  Zio wasn’t restless, even though every sound reached him too clearly. His guard was lowered. Here, every sound seemed to linger.

  For years, night had meant a long pause for him. In the mountains, night held nothing but himself.

  Night in the city didn’t erase anything. It only turned the volume down.

  Zio shifted slightly and turned his head toward the window. The shutters were half open. From there, he could see the stone street below, still not empty even though night had fully fallen. Lanterns burned along the road, casting warm reflections over damp stone.

  A few people walked in pairs, unhurried. A wagon rolled past slowly, its wheels making a steady rhythm before disappearing around the corner.

  Zio let out a small breath, then rose from the bed and stepped out of his room.

  The wood beneath his feet creaked softly as he crossed the hallway and made his way down to the first floor.

  The voices in the main room softened when he appeared. Thomas, sitting on a bench near the hearth, looked up.

  “Still awake?” he asked, like it was the most ordinary thing.

  Zio paused. “Couldn’t sleep.”

  Thomas huffed a quiet laugh, not unkind.

  “Yeah. First night in Ravenhold does that.”

  Behind the counter, Myra glanced over as well. She set down the cloth in her hands and offered a small, knowing smile.

  “That’s normal,” she said. “The city keeps talking even when it’s supposed to be asleep.”

  Thomas shifted on the bench and nudged the space beside him with an elbow.

  “Sit. No point standing there like a statue.”

  Zio sat without much movement.

  Myra crossed to the small stove, poured hot water into a cup, and dropped in a pinch of tea. Steam curled up slowly, carrying a faint, calming scent.

  The main room was warm. The fire in the hearth had burned down to embers. Mana lamps filled the space with a gentle glow, steadier than candlelight.

  Thomas leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms.

  “It’s still cold,” he muttered. “And it’s supposed to be spring already.”

  “Maybe it forgot,” Myra said dryly as she returned.

  She placed the cup in front of Zio.

  “Drink while it’s warm.”

  Zio gave a small nod. “Thank you.”

  Myra rested her hands lightly on the counter, studying him the way innkeepers often did, more out of habit than suspicion.

  “So,” she asked, voice casual, “where did you come from?”

  “The northern region.”

  Her brows rose slightly.

  “Hm... Sylvaen?”

  Zio shook his head.

  “The dwarf lands, then? Khar-dur?”

  “Not that either.”

  Thomas blinked, curious despite himself.

  “North...” he repeated. “I thought there wasn’t much up there besides trees and stone.”

  “…I lived on the border between them,” Zio said quietly.

  Myra’s expression softened with recognition.

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  “Oh. I’ve heard of a small village out that way. Greyhollow, wasn’t it?”

  Zio only nodded.

  Myra hummed.

  “In a few days, you won’t be so startled by the noise here,” she said. “Ravenhold grows on people. Whether they want it to or not.”

  Thomas kept talking after that, filling the silence with harmless things.

  The market was getting busier. More ships were coming in.

  And work, as always, never seemed to run out.

  Myra chimed in now and then, like someone stirring a pot.

  And Zio simply sat between them.

  For a few minutes, he forgot to measure distance.

  After a while, Myra’s gaze returned to him, gentler this time.

  “You left that village on your own?”

  “Yes.”

  “And your family?” she asked carefully. “Do they know you came this far?”

  Zio’s hand paused at the edge of the cup.

  The tea trembled faintly.

  He didn’t answer. His lips touched the rim, holding back words he didn’t want to release.

  Thomas didn’t look over. Didn’t push.

  Myra only nodded once.

  “Hm.”

  Then, like an experienced woman who knew when to stop digging, she turned the conversation away.

  “Tomorrow morning the market will be crowded,” she said. “There’s grain coming up from the south. The main road will be packed from dawn.”

  Thomas shrugged.

  “Which means my uncle’s warehouse won’t be quiet.”

  Zio listened without adding anything.

  He finished the tea down to the last drop.

  Myra glanced toward the door.

  “In that case,” she said lightly, “go see the city for a bit. It might help. Don’t lock yourself away on your first night.”

  Thomas stood at once.

  “Come on, Zio.”

  The night air of Ravenhold greeted them. The smell of roasted food mixed with oil and a hint of salt drifting in from the docks.

  Hanging lamps swayed gently, their shadows moving along the stone walls.

  Bars along the street were still lively. Laughter and plucked music spilled out from inside. Small restaurants were full of people sitting at ease, speaking without hurry.

  Zio walked with steady steps. He wasn’t tense. Nor was he impressed. He watched how people stood too close to one another without feeling threatened.

  From a narrow alley came the crash of a broken plate, followed by loud laughter. Zio’s hand moved by reflex toward his waist, then stopped. He lowered it slowly.

  Thomas glanced over briefly, then kept walking.

  They reached a small park. Wooden benches lined up neatly beneath still trees.

  From here, Ravenhold looked like a spread of low lights, breathing quietly in the dark.

  Thomas slowed his steps.

  “Let’s sit for a bit,” he said.

  They sat down, not too close, not too far.

  For a moment, neither of them spoke.

  The night wind moved through the branches above.

  Thomas glanced sideways.

  “So...” he started, then stopped, as if reconsidering.

  “...what brought you here?”

  Zio’s gaze stayed forward.

  “I don’t know yet.”

  Thomas blinked once, then gave a small nod.

  “Huh. Honest answer.”

  He leaned back, resting his arms on the bench.

  “Most people who come here already have something in mind.”

  “Work, usually. Coin.”

  Zio didn’t respond.

  Thomas continued anyway, voice casual, not forcing it.

  “Some join the Guild. Some just take whatever job shows up first.”

  “My uncle says the city doesn’t care what you wanted.”

  “It just keeps moving.”

  The lamps along the path flickered softly.

  Thomas studied Zio for a second.

  “You don’t walk like a farmer,” he said.

  Zio turned his head slightly.

  “I’m not.”

  “Yeah,” Thomas muttered. “I figured.”

  He hesitated, then added more quietly.

  “I’m not saying you’re dangerous.”

  “Just... you look like you’ve carried heavier things than sacks of grain.”

  Zio’s expression didn’t change.

  Thomas let out a breath, as if relieved the words were out.

  “If you’re looking for something to do... the Guild’s one option.”

  Zio stayed silent.

  Thomas scratched his cheek.

  “But there’s something else too.”

  Zio finally looked at him.

  Thomas pointed vaguely north, beyond the city.

  “The Crown’s holding trials next month.”

  “Royal Forces.”

  “The Royal Forces?” Zio asked.

  Thomas nodded.

  “Soldiers directly under the Crown. Not mercenaries.”

  “Different from the Guild.”

  He gave a small shrug.

  “I heard it’s at the colosseum just outside Solcarys’ walls.”

  “Big place. People come from everywhere to try.”

  “Are you interested?” Thomas asked.

  Zio didn’t answer right away.

  The wind passed between them again.

  “I’ll think about it,” he said at last.

  Thomas exhaled, almost amused.

  “Yeah. Thought you’d say that.”

  He looked up at the dark sky.

  “Sometimes strong people don’t want to be seen.”

  “Or maybe they just don’t know where to stand yet.”

  Zio’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t argue.

  Thomas shifted forward, planting his feet.

  “Anyway,” he said, lighter now,

  “I’ll draw you a map tomorrow.”

  Zio glanced at him.

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I know,” Thomas replied simply.

  “I’m offering.”

  He smiled, small and genuine.

  “City streets loop in stupid ways. First week here, I got lost three times.”

  “My mother still laughs about it.”

  The park lamps began to go out one by one.

  Darkness gathered between the trees.

  Thomas stood.

  “Come on,” he said. “It’s getting late.”

  Zio rose as well.

  They left the park with calm steps, the city quieting around them.

  The street that had been busy earlier was growing empty. A few shops were beginning to close. The sound of glasses and laughter faded, replaced by the steady steps of night guards patrolling in the distance.

  The wind grew colder between stone buildings. Lanterns along the main road still burned, but their light no longer felt full. Ravenhold dimmed.

  They returned to the inn without much conversation. The front door closed softly, leaving the city’s noise outside, muffled by the wooden walls of Halvor Inn.

  Zio climbed the stairs and entered his room. He placed his shoes near the wall, removed his cloak, then lay back down on the narrow bed. He settled into the same position as before, flat on his back with his arms at his sides.

  Outside, the night watch bell rang once.

  Then only distant sounds, growing smaller.

  Zio closed his eyes, letting the city become background.

  This time, he fell asleep before his thoughts did.

  Morning light slipped through the crack in the window, touching his face gently.

  Zio opened his eyes and needed a few seconds to remember where he was.

  Morning arrived with the sound of wheels and merchants shouting.

  He rose, straightened himself enough, then left the room and went down to the main hall.

  Thomas was already there, seated on a bench with breakfast in front of him. He looked up as soon as he saw Zio.

  “Come here, Zio,” he said, lifting his hand slightly. “Eat first before we head out.”

  The scent of warm bread and hot drink filled the room. Myra moved behind the counter, arranging the morning like a routine she’d known for years.

  After finishing, Zio followed Thomas out of the inn.

  The main road was already crowded.

  Zio moved with the flow.

  For the first time, he didn’t feel like he had to leave immediately.