The reception room of the house on the shore of the Poison Swamp felt like a different world. In sharp contrast to Neneva and Graymond’s shabby clothing, the interior furnishings looked high-end.
A pair of leather sofas flanked a low table. They had a polished, muted sheen that promised comfort even before I sat down. Neneva was bouncing on the cushions like a child experiencing a sofa for the first time.
Graymond excused himself to prepare tea and left the room, leaving me alone with her.
“Sit down, Walt,” Neneva said, pointing to the spot opposite her. She acted quite bossy, but I didn't mind.
“Pardon me.”
Neneva watched my every move with an intense, appraising gaze.
“Where are you from, Walt?” she asked, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees and her face resting in her hands.
“The Royal Capital.”
The light in Neneva’s eyes dimmed. I wondered if she had unpleasant memories of the city.
“…Have you lived there your whole life?”
“No. I’m originally from a fishing village far to the south.”
“So that’s why your skin is so dark!”
Well, she wasn't wrong.
“How long have you lived here, Neneva?” I asked.
“…I’ve always been here. Since I was about five, I think.”
She had lived in a place known as the Poison Swamp since she was a small child. Her sickly pallor and thin frame were likely the results of growing up in such an environment.
While I was lost in thought, Graymond returned, pushing a tea cart. The fragrant aroma of steeped tea filled the room. To fill the silence, Graymond poured the tea and placed a cup on the table with a soft clink.
“How long has it been since we last had tea in here?” Neneva asked.
“About half a year, I believe,” Graymond replied gently as he sat beside her.
“Well? Is it good?” Neneva asked as I took a sip.
I wasn’t an expert on tea leaves, but I could tell it was smooth and easy to drink. Thanks to my time as a Cook, my palate was reasonably sharp.
“It’s delicious.”
“Oh, good.”
Neneva looked genuinely relieved. Her expressions really did change in the blink of an eye.
“Old Man, Walt lives in the Royal Capital now, but he’s from a southern fishing village. That’s why his skin is dark and his hair is red.”
“My hair color doesn't have anything to do with it,” I corrected.
“Old Man, hair color has nothing to do with being from a fishing village,” she repeated.
“Is that so, Young Lady?” Graymond replied noncommittally, though I could see him watching my reactions closely.
“How long have you been a [Herbalist], Walt?”
How long… I decided it was best to avoid the topic of changing Jobs.
“I’ve been honing my skills as a [Herbalist] since I was fifteen.”
“Hmm. I see. I’m going to be fifteen soon. A Priest of God Karia is coming on my birthday to tell me what Job I’ve been granted.”
Neneva’s face clouded with a mix of excitement and anxiety.
“What kind of Job are you hoping for?” I asked.
“…”
It was a casual question, but Neneva went silent and looked down. Her stillness didn't seem like simple contemplation; she looked afraid. I looked to Graymond for help, but he only looked distressed, the wrinkles on his face deepening.
I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't have many cards to play in situations like this. I wasn't the type to ease the mood with a joke, so all I could do was talk about myself.
“My father was the best fisherman in our village,” I began. “He received the [Fisherman] Job at fifteen, and everyone expected me to do the same. But my fifteenth birthday came and went, and I wasn't granted that Job. My younger brother, however, received [Fisherman] when he turned fifteen. He simply had a better aptitude for it than I did.”
Neneva looked up suddenly, her gaze softening as if she were worried about me.
“My brother inherited the family business, and since I felt out of place, I left for the Royal Capital. I make a living now by selling medicine I make with my [Herbalist] skills.”
“Don’t you get lonely? Being away from your home and your family?”
The scent of the morning tide at the harbor flickered in my memory. Was I lonely? I’d never really thought about it.
“I’m usually so busy finding enough to eat and a place to sleep that I don't have the luxury of thinking about home. Besides, there’s a bit of frustration there, too. I want to prove I can stand on my own even without the family business. I suppose the loneliness is buried pretty deep inside.”
“You’re strong, Walt…”
I found myself sharing things I usually kept to myself. It was a strange feeling, considering I had only just met them. The people I usually dealt with at the Lizard’s Tail or the Dark Guild lived by a code of secrecy. Perhaps I was starved for a real connection. Maybe I had just been waiting for a chance to tell someone the truth.
“I have a Mama,” Neneva said. “She lives in the Royal Capital, but I haven't seen her in a very long time. They won't let me.”
“Why not?”
Neneva shook her head, her thin silver hair swaying.
“I don't know… They just say it’s not allowed. They say the important people decided it.”
“That’s unreasonable.”
I didn't know the specifics of her situation, but Neneva was clearly dealing with some heavy burdens.
“But the Old Man and I have been talking. We think if I get an amazing Job when I turn fifteen, maybe I’ll be able to see Mother again.”
Graymond smiled and gave a small nod.
“If I have a Job with great power, those important people will have to listen to my wish, won't they?”
“Is that how it works?”
“I’m sure of it! Right, Old Man?”
“Yes, Young Lady,” Graymond replied, nodding repeatedly. I couldn’t tell if the look deep in his eyes was one of hope or resignation.
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