The seven members of the Garden of Commodity sat around the circular table, the crackling fire filling the room with a soft warmth. Ember sparks occasionally danced into the air, their fleeting light reflecting in the quiet, thoughtful expressions of the group.
Charlotte broke the silence, her cheer cutting through the tense atmosphere. "Why the long faces? I think this is the perfect time to get to know each other!" She clapped her hands lightly, her smile as bright as ever.
Silas, sitting near the edge of the table, barely registered her words. His mind was elsewhere—fragments of a dream he couldn't remember gnawed at the corners of his thoughts. And now, there was the looming journey to the Heart of Cinderhaven. He had only heard stories about the place, each one more outrageous than the last. A land of excess, resources, and secrets that seemed almost too good to be true.
Warren, seated across from him, raised a hand, breaking the silence. Charlotte turned to him eagerly. "Warren, do you have something to add?"
"Something like that," Warren said, his tone pragmatic. "I just want to know—has anyone here actually been to Cinderhaven? I've heard the stories like everyone else, but it'd be nice to know what we're actually walking into."
The group exchanged glances, uncertainty spreading like a ripple through the table. Finally, Calem broke the quiet.
"I have," he said simply, his deep voice carrying an air of authority. He leaned back slightly, his dark eyes reflecting the flickering firelight. "I lived there for a few months before I found this place."
All eyes turned to him, curiosity mixing with the unease already lingering in the room.
"Cinderhaven is… different," Calem continued, his tone even. "It's a place that feels almost fictional. You won't find dragons or otherworldly creatures wandering the streets, but what you will see…" He trailed off, his gaze sharpening. "Let's just say it's enough to make you question everything you think you know about civilization."
This vague explanation of the Heart of Cinderhaven only left everyone more confused. Silas, meanwhile, was spiraling. His mind kept circling back to the elder—if someone like that showed up again in a place like Cinderhaven… He shuddered at the thought.
Then Lumian, with his ever-sunny enthusiasm, chimed in. "So like a fantasy novel!?" His eyes sparkled, and his curly hair seemed to bounce with his excitement.
Silas blinked. What.
A fantasy novel? Did Lumian not grasp the sheer weight of the situation? Silas could practically feel the stress pressing down on him like an anvil, and here Lumian was making literary comparisons.
Ronan, to Silas's relief, looked equally appalled. "Lumian… seriously?" His tone was stern, but his headshake of disappointment said it all.
For a moment, Silas felt validated—until Ronan kept going. "A novel? Who would read something so lame! Everyone knows a game is more fitting. Like The Legend of—"
Nevermind. Silas stared at the two, utterly dumbfounded. These two were supposed to accompany him to Cinderhaven? Maybe he was better off going alone.
"What children…" Seraphina muttered, her tone laced with exasperation. She sat next to Calem, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. "Hey, Silas, Warren, I feel bad for ya." She gestured toward Lumian and Ronan, who were currently engaged in some overdramatic display of mutual agony. "Those two? They get each other started, y'know? Like a comedic duo—but at the worst possible times."
Silas nodded in agreement, glancing at Lumian and Ronan as they clutched their chests in theatrical despair. He couldn't help but think this was spot on. Meanwhile, this was the first real interaction he'd had with Seraphina, and she struck him as the cooler older sister archetype—the type who was supposed to babysit but would rather talk on the phone in her room.
"Any questions?" Charlotte's bright voice cut through his thoughts, pulling him back to reality.
Silas blinked, scrambling to refocus. "Uh, yeah. We're going for supplies, right? What exactly do we need? Most of the stuff here seems to work fine. And how are we supposed to pay for this? If Cinderhaven is as… developed as Calem says, I'm guessing currency is still a thing, right?"
Warren nodded in agreement. Money hadn't held value for years, so how exactly were they supposed to barter in a place like that?
"I'm glad you asked!" Charlotte exclaimed, clearly thrilled to elaborate. "First, we need more food—especially since you two joined us. Second, I heard there's a market selling pillows and blankets, and with winter coming, we could definitely use those. And third…" She placed a hand over her chest, looking almost regal. "I need someone to resupply my tea. There's a woman there—you can't miss her! Just mention my name, Charlotte Greene, and she'll know what to do."
Charlotte's enthusiasm was so strong it was almost infectious. Almost.
"And," she added with a proud flourish, "if you have anything left over, treat yourselves! Consider it a token of our gratitude."
Silas's head spun from the sudden rush of information, but one key issue stood out. "Right… but, uh… how exactly are we supposed to afford all this? Like I said, money doesn't mean anything anymore."
Charlotte smiled knowingly, as if she'd been waiting for this moment. She reached under the table and pulled out a small box, setting it in front of them with a flourish.
Cigarettes.
Silas squinted at the box. "…Pardon?"
"What?" Charlotte replied, her tone as innocent as could be.
"I don't smoke, you know that, right?" Silas said, pointing at the offending items.
"I'm aware." Charlotte tilted her head, her smile still firmly in place. "You don't smell like tobacco."
"So… what's the point?" Silas asked, genuinely baffled.
"You see," Charlotte began, holding up a single cigarette like it was a sacred relic, "after that fateful day, people with… certain habits still needed their fix. Cinderhaven turned to cigarettes—and other items—as a form of currency. It's like a barter system. You trade these for what you need."
Silas stared at her, deadpan. "So, you're telling me the fate of our supplies hinges on a pack of smokes?"
Charlotte nodded, her expression as radiant as ever. "Exactly!"
Warren pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is insane."
"It's innovative," Charlotte corrected, clearly proud of her explanation.
"Right, sure," Silas muttered, shaking his head. "Innovative." He wasn't sure if he was more stressed about going to Cinderhaven or the fact that their entire operation relied on trading tobacco.
Silas was once again pulled from his wandering thoughts when Ronan raised his hand. The group collectively turned to look at him, and when no one acknowledged him further, he simply spoke up.
"Alright, important question," Ronan began, his tone uncharacteristically serious. "Is Cinderhaven, like, a free place? You know, with no ruler or anything? I just can't see that going well… at all."
For the first time, Ronan sounded like he was actually invested in the discussion. It was so unexpected that Silas found himself raising an eyebrow, genuinely curious about where this was going.
Charlotte tapped her chin thoughtfully, clearly enjoying the opportunity to educate—or pretend to. After a dramatic pause, she shrugged with an almost comical nonchalance. "Hmm, I haven't really heard much about that… or been there, so I can't say for sure."
Ronan deflated slightly, but Charlotte wasn't done. She clapped her hands together, her face lighting up with excitement. "Oh, but this is a question for… Calem!" She pointed at him like a game show host announcing the next contestant.
Calem blinked, visibly caught off guard. "Uh… something like that," he started hesitantly, clearly uncomfortable being put on the spot. "There is a ruler, technically, but not really? She has someone else govern for her, even though she's still in power. She's… arrogant and prideful."
The sound of that made the group slightly skeptical and nervous. A ruler too cocky, arrogant, or powerful that they would rather have someone else rule while still having power over that person? What a corrupted way to think of things.
Silas, trying to move past the unease settling in the room, contributed to the conversation. "Is that all we need to know? If so, we should be getting on our way." He directed the question toward Charlotte, who gave him a simple nod of confirmation.
With that, the group stood and began to disperse, carrying on with their individual tasks to prepare for the journey. Lumian went straight to his room, muttering something about needing to finish packing. Ronan, who had been far too eager about this trip, had already packed everything he needed the day before and wandered off with nothing to do. Warren, ever practical, didn't seem to be packing much at all—just the bare essentials for travel.
Silas had just reached the stairs to his room when Charlotte's voice called out to him. "Silas, wait."
He stopped mid-step and turned to see her standing by the table, her expression unreadable but softer than usual. "Hm? Is something wrong?" he asked, tilting his head.
Charlotte shook her head gently, gesturing for him to sit. "Not at all. I just need a moment of your time. Can you spare me that?"
Silas hesitated for only a second before walking back and taking a seat beside her. Her calm demeanor felt oddly heavy, as though there was a weight behind her words that he wasn't sure he wanted to face.
On the table next to the boxes of cigarettes, she laid out a few items: a rolled-up piece of paper, a marker, and some clean bandages. Her fingers moved deftly, as though she'd been waiting for this conversation.
"Silas," she started, her voice quieter than usual, "can I ask you something? And I want you to be honest with me."
Silas nodded slowly, unsure of what was coming. "Of course."
Charlotte met his gaze, her tone dipping into something vulnerable and sincere. "Are you the type to let people in?" She paused, watching him carefully. "I know it's only the second day, but I can't figure you out. There's a part of me that wonders if you… resent us. Or if we've failed to make you feel welcome."
The question caught Silas off guard, his mind racing. "What? No, not at all," he replied quickly, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Do I really come off like that? I sound like an ass."
Charlotte chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Don't belittle yourself. That's not what I mean." She tapped the marker lightly against the bandages, thinking carefully. "It's just… I can see you're carrying something heavy. And I know it's none of my business, but you've been holding the world at arm's length since you arrived here. You don't have to do that with us. Not here."
Silas stared at her, unsure of how to respond. He wasn't used to people looking through him, let alone into him.
"You'll find," Charlotte continued, her smile small but earnest, "that this group isn't perfect. But we do lean on each other. We're stronger for it. I chose you for this trip because I believe you'll be someone we can rely on, especially Lumian and Ronan. I believe in you, Silas. But you have to let us in first. Will you let us?"
Her words sank into him like stones in still water, each one rippling through the walls he had so carefully built. For a moment, he didn't know what to say.
"I…" he started, his voice trailing off. He looked down at his hands, flexing them unconsciously.
Charlotte smiled faintly, picking up the bandages. She began to write something on them in neat, deliberate strokes with the marker. "Take your time," she said gently, her tone devoid of pressure or expectation.
Silas's thoughts spiraled inward, pulling him into memories of failure and regret. He had spent so long believing he was better off alone, that he couldn't be trusted with the well-being of others. And yet, here was someone who didn't just see his flaws but saw past them. Someone who believed in him despite the weight he carried.
"Rely on me?" he finally said, his voice quieter, almost to himself. He lifted his head, meeting her gaze. "I… don't know if I'm the kind of person you think I am. But if you're willing to trust me, then I'll do my best to prove you right."
Charlotte's smile widened, and she slid the bandages over to him. Written across them in bold, unwavering letters were the words: You are enough.
Silas blinked, stunned by the simplicity and power of the message.
"You've been walking your path alone for too long," Charlotte said softly. "But here, you don't have to. And one day, you'll see it, Silas. That everything you're carrying? It's not a weakness. It's what makes you strong."
Silas stared at the bandages for a long moment before gripping them tightly in his hands. "I'll allow it," he said, his voice firmer this time. "And I'll try my best."
"That's all I ask," Charlotte replied, her tone warm.
As Silas stood, the words on the bandages seemed to weigh a little less in his hands. And for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was walking toward something, rather than away.
If no one else would be what Silas needed all his life, then he shall be it for others. Hope.
Silas began wrapping the bandage around his left hand, the words You are enough hidden beneath the neat layers. Charlotte smiled softly, watching him in silence. She stood from the table, giving him a small nod of approval. "Take care of yourself, Silas," she said warmly before heading to her room. The quiet click of the door closing left Silas alone for only a moment.
The sound of footsteps echoed from the staircase as Lumian, Warren, and Ronan descended, their expressions a mix of eagerness and focus.
"You ready?" Lumian asked, a wide grin on his face.
Silas gave a small nod, grabbing the box of cigarettes and the rolled-up paper—a map detailing the best route to the Heart of Cinderhaven. His eyes scanned the crude markings and landmarks, his brow furrowing slightly.
Noticing Silas's puzzlement, Lumian quickly stepped forward. "The walk there's about five hours," he explained, pointing to a spot on the map. "But there's a community about an hour in where we can rent horses. That'll cut the rest of the trip to about an hour and a half. So, two and a half hours total."
Silas looked up from the map, giving Lumian a brief nod. "Right. Thank you," he replied, his voice calm but steady.
Lumian's grin widened. "Don't mention it. Let's just make it there in one piece, yeah?"
With that, the group made their final preparations and stepped out into the crisp morning air, the road to Cinderhaven stretching before them. Silas glanced at the others, his thoughts returning briefly to Charlotte's words. He tightened the bandage on his hand, the faint imprint of the message grounding him. You are enough, he reminded himself.
And with that, they began their journey.
.
..
…
The group was getting closer to the community. Ronan's jokes and random tangents had kept them entertained, holding their sanity together as the agonizingly boring walk threatened to drive them to madness. Every so often, the crack of a twig or rustle of leaves would pull their attention, but it was never more than the wind or a small animal.
As they trudged forward, Silas's thoughts drifted back to what Charlotte had said: 'I chose you for this trip because I believe you'll be someone we can rely on, especially Lumian and Ronan.' Her words played on repeat in his mind. Occasionally, he glanced at the two of them, hoping he'd see something—anything—that proved her point.
Lumian walked ahead with a confident posture, his ever-present grin on full display. But this time, Silas noticed something… off. There was a smugness to his smile, like he was holding onto some joke he couldn't wait to unleash.
"What's so funny?" Silas asked, genuinely curious—and a little concerned.
"Oh, nothing," Lumian said, his grin widening. "I was just thinking… Walking to a city taken over by humans after an apocalypse? Totally reminds me of this fantasy novel I read once."
Silas's brow furrowed, but before he could respond, Lumian kept going.
"Yeah, it had all these survivors trying to rebuild civilization, lots of intrigue, hidden secrets, you know the deal. Kind of feels like our journey, doesn't it? Except, you know, no dragons. Bit of a letdown, really."
'I chose you for this trip because I believe you'll be someone we can rely on, especially Lumian and Ronan.'
Silas sighed. He didn't even bother masking his disappointment as he glanced back at Ronan, who looked like he was on the verge of adding to the nonsense.
"Actually," Ronan began with a sparkle in his eye, "if this were a fantasy novel, I'd totally be the dashing rogue. You know, the one who's too charming for his own good but secretly carries the team with his brilliance."
"No," Lumian cut in, deadpan. "You'd be the character who dies in the middle of the book for comedic effect."
Ronan gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like he'd just been shot. "How dare you! I'm clearly the fan favorite! If anyone's dying for comedic effect, it's you."
"Oh, please," Lumian retorted. "I'm the one keeping this group sane. You're just here to provide backup when we need someone to trip over a rock and set off a trap."
Silas rubbed his temples, barely suppressing a groan. His patience was hanging by a thread, and these two were gleefully sawing at it. 'Especially Lumian and Ronan,' Charlotte had said.
"Charlotte," he muttered under his breath, his voice filled with dry resignation. "You're a terrible liar. These two are hopeless."