Walking through the swinging door of the Weary Traveler's Inn Fenrir felt the warmth of the blazing hearth tucked away in the corner melt away the frost that had seeped into his bones.
Stepping up to the reception desk Fenrir rang the silver bell that sat on the countertop in place of a receptionist. A moment later, the stairs leading to the inn's rooms creaked as a skinny man with slick black hair walked down the steps.
"Well, aren't you a late arrival? It's rare to see any out this late before the Tempering festival." Walking up to Fenrir, the man held out his empty hand, clearly expecting something, "That will be five coppers for room ten if you want breakfast in the morning."
Reaching into his robes, Fenrir pulled out a single silver coin, "Keep the change. I haven't had anything but dried fruit and nuts for a while."
Precious metal coins were the standard form of currency in Tuthala, going up in value from copper, silver, gold, and platinum. Each coin was worth one hundred of its predecessor, so the silver Fenrir had just handed the clerk was worth one hundred copper.
The average yearly salary for most people, however, was roughly one or two silver, so for Fenrir to pull out that kind of wealth stunned the clerk into silence. Recovering after a second, the man quickly swiped the coin from Fenrir's hand as if he was afraid of him taking the offer back.
"Let me show you to your room. There's also some warm water left if you want a bath."
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Waking up the next morning, Fenrir walked down the stairs to see the small tavern of the pub flooded with families with kids his age, all looking a bit road weary. Finding an empty seat at the bar Fenrir impatiently waited for his food to come.
After a minute, the man from last night walked out of the kitchen holding a few plates of steaming hot food. Fenrir's eyes were glued to the plate as he loaded up with potatoes, bread but, more importantly, eggs, sausage, and thick-cut pork.
Nearly salivating at the sight, Fenrir missed when the man asked him a question, only to blink out of his trance a second later, "Sorry, what was that?"
"I asked if you would still like breakfast," the man asked with an amicable smile.
Nodding quickly, Fenrir couldn't stop grinning, "Tell the chef to keep the plates coming and piled with meat."
A few minutes later, a plate of food piled with eggs, pork, and sausage found its way on the table in front of Fenrir whose eyes widened at the sight. Watering at the mouth, Fenrir picked up his fork and knife and tore into his food. For the first time in his life, Fenrir ate something other than fruit, vegetable, or grain.
Scarfing down the eggs and cooked meats, Fenrir felt as if he had reached enlightenment as his body was reforged and made anew. Before he realized it, Fenrir had finished the plate of food in a matter of minutes, leaving behind a perfectly clean plate.
Before Fenrir could even complain about not having more food, the empty plate was swept off the table and replaced by an entire roasted ham. Looking up with tears in his eyes, Fenrir looked up at the clerk, "What's your name?"
"It's Rone. Now enjoy your food." Nodding, Fenrir continued eating at his usual ravenous pace, shocking everyone else in the tavern as plate after plate of food was brought out of the kitchen.
An hour later, Fenrir sat back in his chair, patting his stomach, 'I think I can die happy now.'
"I didn't think someone your size could put away that much food," Rone commented as he wiped down the bar counter in front of Fenrir.
"Normally, I only eat half of that, but that was my first time having meat so I decided to indulge," Fenrir explained with a shrug not feeling an ounce of guilt.
Rone glanced at Fenrir out of the corner of his eye, "What are you talking about? Never had meat before?"
"My mom doesn't let any animal products in the house. That's why I'm so damn skinny." Fenrir bemoaned.
"No animal products?" Rone asked, his confusion evident on his face, "What the hell do you guys eat?"
Fenrir shrugged, "Fruits, vegetables and nuts."
Rone's eyes narrowed as he looked at Fenrir with a new edge in his gaze, "You aren't pulling my leg, are you?"
"If you find yourself in a situation where you need to lie either you're too weak to tell the truth or an idiot that got himself into trouble," Fenrir said with a derisive snort.
"Wise words," Rone said with a grunt.
Fenrir nodded in agreement, "Just another lesson that my father ingrained into me."
"Is he another non meat eater as well?" Rone said with a smirk, an obvious joke.
Fenrir shook his head, "No he likes to eat monsters, but he never let me have any, said the mana in the flesh would ruin my pathways."
Rone paused to ask a follow up question when he realized it wouldn't do any good, "Well I'd love to meet him sometime, what's your name kid?"
"Fenrir Grayblood."
"Grayblood," Rone repeated, "That sounds like a House name."
"I'm not named after a house," Fenrir said with a frown.
"Not the actual structure," Rone said with a roll of his eyes, "I meant a noble household, you know, preserving the bloodline by marrying your third cousin or sister."
Fenrir's lips curled in disgust, "Why would someone ever do something like that?"
Rone shrugged, "It's a known fact that magical talent and affinities are passed down through blood, with some magic being so tightly entwined that it can only be wielded by those of a certain lineage. The more pure that lineage is, the higher chance for the magic to manifest."
"You know a lot about this stuff."
Snorting, Rone wiped his hands down with a towel, "Let's just say I used to operate in a higher circle than just tending to some inn. Now it was lovely talking to you, kid, but I have customers to attend to."
Nodding, Fenrir pushed away from the bar and stood up, "Thanks for the meat, it was delicious."
Without another word Fenrir was out the front door and Rone watched as the door swung shut behind him. Still staring at the closed door, Rone's once dull brown eyes flashed with a mysterious red light, "That child…"