Night came, and Chris and I were in our room. Father was next door because the inn's rules only allowed two people per room. Chris was already fast asleep, but I found myself wide awake, staring at the ceiling. Something about this place made it hard for me to settle down and sleep. After tossing and turning for what felt like hours, I finally gave up and decided to get some fresh air. On my way out, a thought crossed my mind—I could ask Father for some money and buy some snacks. It was a small idea, but maybe a little midnight snack would help me feel more at ease.
I quietly made my way to Father's room and gently pushed the door open, careful not to wake him. To my surprise, the room was empty. The bed was neatly made, and there were no signs of him being here at all. Where could he have gone this late? Concern mixed with curiosity pushed me to head downstairs to ask the innkeeper if he had seen my father.
The innkeeper, a stout woman with a welcoming smile, was wiping down the counter when I approached. "Excuse me," I said quietly, "do you know where my father might have gone?"
She looked up, giving me a small smile. "Ah, your father? He stepped out just a minute ago. Didn't say where he was going, though."
I thanked her and hurried outside, a sense of unease starting to form in my stomach. The streets were quieter now, the bustling energy of the city reduced to a few dimly lit alleys and the distant murmur of tavern patrons. I scanned the area, and in just a moment, I saw him—Father was turning into a narrow alleyway up ahead. Without hesitation, I followed, keeping a safe distance so he wouldn't notice me.
The alley was dimly lit, shadows dancing across the cobblestones as I trailed behind him. I was careful to keep to the darker parts, hiding whenever he glanced over his shoulder. My heart pounded in my chest. Where was he going, and why was he being so secretive about it?
Finally, Father came to a stop in front of a building with a large, gaudy sign that read "Casino." My eyes widened in surprise. A casino? My father was going into a casino? The establishment looked nothing like the luxurious ones in my old world. There were no guards at the door, no velvet ropes—just a simple, weathered door that swung open easily as Father pushed his way inside.
I followed him in, my curiosity getting the better of me. The interior was dim and smoky, filled with round tables and people crowding around various games. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol and the clattering of dice. My father moved with purpose, heading straight for one of the tables where an older man with a long, gray beard sat. The man looked up and grinned when he saw Father approaching.
"Ah, back again, are ya?" the old man chuckled, his voice raspy. "Had a good run this afternoon, didn't ya?"
Father gave a modest smile and took a seat across from him. "Just lucky, I suppose," he replied, pulling a silver coin from his pocket. "Shall we play?"
The old man cackled and nodded, picking up a pair of dice. "Alright then, even or odd?" he asked, shaking the dice in his hands.
"Odd, one silver coin," Father replied confidently.
I watched in fascination as the old man rolled the dice. The small crowd that had gathered around the table leaned in, holding their breath. The dice clattered across the table and came to a stop—five and six. Eleven.
"Odd it is," the old man said begrudgingly, handing over a silver coin to Father. The crowd let out a collective sigh of surprise.
Father's eyes gleamed with a hint of satisfaction as he took the dice from the table. "My turn," he said, holding them up. "Even or odd?" he asked, his gaze locked onto the old man.
"Odd," the old man said, his voice steady. "Five silver coins."
Father gave a nod and rolled the dice. They bounced across the table, spinning and tumbling before finally landing—three and three. Six.
"Even," Father announced with a small smile as the crowd around them murmured. The old man grunted and slid five silver coins across the table toward him.
The game continued on for several rounds. Father won most of them, only losing a few. The old man, on the other hand, seemed to be on a losing streak, his pile of coins dwindling with each roll. I watched in awe as Father played with a calm confidence I had never seen before. There was something almost mesmerizing about the way he handled the dice, as if he had some kind of natural talent for it.
Finally, the old man ran out of coins and resigned with a heavy sigh. "You're a lucky man," he muttered, pushing away from the table. "I suppose that's it for me tonight."
Father gave a polite nod and began gathering his winnings. I decided it was time to reveal myself. I walked up to the table, and Father looked up in surprise when he saw me.
"Will?" he exclaimed softly. "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing, Father," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. "I was going to ask you for some money to buy snacks, but then I saw you sneaking off, so I followed you."
He gave a small chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "I suppose I owe you an explanation," he said, motioning for me to sit down. "Gambling is... well, it's a hobby of mine. It helps me relax. I'm sorry if this changes how you see me."
I stared at him for a moment, processing what he was saying. I had always known Father as a responsible and composed man, always making the right choices for our family's well-being. Seeing him here, at a gambling table, was certainly unexpected, but it didn't make me think any less of him. If anything, it made him seem more human, more... real.
"No, it doesn't change how I see you," I said honestly. "You're still the father I respect. Everyone has their ways of relaxing, right?"
Father looked at me with a mixture of surprise and relief. "Thank you, Will," he said, his voice tinged with emotion. "That means a lot to me."
"Going home already?" A deep, rough voice interrupted our conversation. We turned to see a burly man with a scar running down his face, probably from a monster's claw. He had an intimidating presence, and his eyes were locked onto Father. "Won't you play with me?" he asked, his tone challenging.
Father hesitated, glancing at me. "Sorry, but we really need to go now," he said politely.
I thought for a moment, then nodded. "It's okay, Father," I said. "You can play more if it helps you relax. I'll just sit next to you and watch."
Father looked at me, searching my face for any sign of disapproval. When he found none, he gave a small nod. "Alright," he agreed. "One more game."
The burly man grinned and sat down across from Father, slamming a handful of coins onto the table. "Let's make this interesting," he said, his voice a low growl.
The game that followed was tense, the atmosphere in the room shifting as more people gathered around to watch. Father remained calm and composed, never losing his focus. He played smartly, skillfully outmaneuvering his opponent with every roll of the dice. The burly man grew more frustrated with each loss, his eyes narrowing as his pile of coins shrank.
After several rounds, it was clear who the winner was. Father had won again, this time even more decisively. The burly man scowled and shoved his chair back, standing up abruptly. "You're good," he muttered, clearly not happy about the outcome. "Too good."
Father just smiled politely and nodded. "Thank you for the game," he said, gathering his winnings.