Elliot's eyes creaked open, greeted by the sharp scent of salt and the muted hustle of a marketplace. His body ached like he had been trampled by a herd of wild horses—which, to be fair, wasn't far from the truth. He shifted, wincing as he sat up. The last thing he remembered was the cold bite of water, the pain of betrayal, and then… nothing.
"Well, you're awake!" Billy's voice cut through the haze. He sat cross-legged near Elliot, munching on a piece of bread that looked about as stale as Elliot felt. "Thought you were gonna sleep forever, mate."
Elliot rubbed his eyes and stretched, feeling the stiffness in his joints. "Yeah, well, wouldn't have minded staying unconscious a bit longer." He muttered, more to himself than to Billy.
The memories of the assassins flashed briefly—those cold stares, the eerie silence. The deaths of the mercenaries and himself were a weight that tugged at his gut, though he pushed the feeling down like everything else lately.
Billy shoved the rest of the bread into his mouth and stood, brushing crumbs off his clothes. "Listen, it's not exactly a paradise here, but we're alive. And I've already got some ideas for us to make some money."
Elliot eyed Billy warily, "That's what worries me."
Billy beamed, completely ignoring Elliot's tone. "First thing's first—we're broke. But this town? Full of opportunity! See that guy?" He pointed to a burly blacksmith hammering away at a sword that looked far too heavy for someone like Elliot to even lift.
"Yeah, and?" Elliot said.
"He's hiring. Pays well too. You know, if you're good with your hands. Which you're not, but hey—" Billy waved it off like it didn't matter. "I'll figure something out for us."
Elliot sighed and stood up, dusting off his clothes. "I'm not really feeling the whole 'manual labor' thing right now, Billy. Besides, commissions didn't exactly go well last time." His voice faltered slightly at the memory, but Billy didn't seem to notice.
"Commissions? Nah, mate, you've got to think smaller." Billy gave him a hearty slap on the back that nearly knocked Elliot forward. "Jobs like… shoe shiner! Or… dishwasher!"
Elliot shot Billy a look. "Dishwasher? Seriously?"
Billy grinned. "Hey, don't knock it. We won't know until we try."
Elliot rubbed his temple, feeling a headache forming. "Right."
They wandered through the crowded streets of the town, weaving between stalls selling everything from dried fish to questionable potions. The people around them didn't seem to care much for newcomers, which was a blessing for Elliot. He didn't want anyone paying too much attention to him—not after everything.
Billy jabbered on, completely oblivious to Elliot's brooding silence. He haggled for a bag of apples, flirted with a street vendor, and even tried to sell some random trinket he had picked up somewhere along the way. All the while Elliot's mind wandered back to that moment of deathly silence and the pure terror of those mountains.
Billy's voice snapped him back to reality. "Oi, you still with me, mate? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Yeah," Elliot muttered.
They continued walking, Billy chatting away about the "great opportunities" the town offered. Elliot, however, was once again lost in his thoughts.
Eventually, they found themselves at the docks. Ships bobbed gently on the water, their sails flapping in the wind. Fishermen shouted at each other, hauling in their catches of the day. Billy's eyes lit up at the sight.
"Maybe we can work on a ship!" he said excitedly. "You've already got some experience with boats, don't you?"
Elliot gave Billy a deadpan look. "Last time I was on a boat, I was chained to a wall. Pass."
Billy chuckled. "Fair point." He scanned the area, his eyes darting from ship to ship.
"Okay, fine. How about… we try something different? You've got skills, mate you just need to find the right gig."
Elliot sighed. "Yeah. Sure." He glanced out at the sea, watching the waves crash against the shore. The darkness lingered in his mind, but for now, he pushed it down.
There was no use dwelling on the past—he had to keep moving forward.
They approached a bustling shipyard where workers were hauling in loads of fish. Billy eagerly sought out the foreman, and soon Elliot found himself assigned to work with the fishermen.
However, things quickly went awry. Elliot fumbled with the crates, dropping fish everywhere. He tripped over a coil of rope, causing an avalanche of fish to cascade onto the deck.
Billy, meanwhile, had gotten himself completely tangled in ropes, hanging upside down like a human marionette.
"Elliot!" Billy yelled, his voice muffled from his awkward position.
"Just a little more help over here, I think," Elliot grunted, trying to right himself amidst the chaos.
Elliot and Billy were quickly thrown out covered in fish guts and rope burns.
Next, they found themselves at a bustling tavern. Elliot, trying to stay positive, was making an effort to keep up with the orders. He was doing reasonably well until Billy arrived to help.
Unfortunately, Billy's attempts to assist led to a cascade of broken plates, the crash echoing through the tavern. In a final comedic turn, Billy slipped and fell into a tub of soapy dishwater, emerging with a soaked, sheepish grin.
"Dishes aren't really my thing," Billy admitted with a chuckle, wiping soap off his face.
Elliot shook his head, "Let's hope we have better luck next time." he said pointing to the tavern owner coming after them with a broom.
Their next job led them to a cluttered alchemist's workshop. The alchemist, a woman with an unnervingly wide smile, seemed fascinated by Elliot. She kept attempting to test various potions on him, each resulting in odd side effects. Elliot dodged and weaved around her, trying to avoid becoming an involuntary experiment. Meanwhile, Billy had accidentally sniffed a potion that caused his nose and ears to elongate, resembling those of a mouse.
"Elliot, you should see this!" Billy squeaked, trying to adjust his new appendages.
"Not now, Billy!" Elliot called back, narrowly avoiding a bubbling concoction aimed at him.
Finally, they ended up at a horse stable, exhausted and disheveled.
The smell was unbearable, and the work was grueling. They cleaned up after the horses, their faces scrunched in disgust as they shoveled piles of manure. By the end of the day, they collapsed onto a pile of dry grass in the stable, their bodies aching and covered in muck.
As they lay there, Elliot looked at Billy, who was already snoring softly. The past experiences weighed heavily on him, but for now, the exhaustion was overpowering.
Elliot muttered to himself, "Maybe we'll find something better tomorrow."
He closed his eyes, letting the exhaustion wash over him as he drifted off to sleep amidst the stench and the sound of the horses shifting in their stalls all while a mysterious figure looking at them sleep and disappears in the night light.