Chapter 9: A Day in the Life
The sun is barely peeking over the horizon as I step out of the warehouse. The early morning air is cold, sharp against my skin, but it doesn't bother me. The familiar sting is something I've learned to accept.
Today's not about training, not about lightning or swords or systems. Today, Rune and I are just two guys, living in a city that doesn't give a damn about either of us. It's rare, these moments where there's no pressure, no looming fight to prepare for. I'm not going to lie, I kind of like it.
"Hey, you awake yet?" I ask, glancing over my shoulder to see Rune leaning against the warehouse door. His eyes are still half-lidded, as if he's not really interested in the day ahead, but I know better. He's just playing it cool.
"I'm always awake," Rune replies, his voice still rough with sleep. There's a slight smirk on his face, but it doesn't reach his eyes. I know he's been up for a while now, probably training or going over some plan in his head.
"What's the plan for today, then?" I ask, already knowing the answer. It's never about taking it easy when you're in Rune's world. There's always something to do, some new task, some new challenge. But I'm not complaining. I know the only way to get better is by constantly pushing forward.
Rune pushes himself off the wall and starts walking down the narrow alley. "Nothing too serious. A bit of shopping. Maybe grab some food."
I raise an eyebrow. "Food? Are we going out to eat? You know, like normal people?"
Rune stops, glancing back at me over his shoulder. His smirk grows a bit. "Do you know what normal is?"
I grin. "Not really. But I like the idea of eating something that doesn't come from a can."
Rune lets out a soft chuckle, and for a moment, the tough exterior cracks, just a little. It's moments like these that I realize Rune's not always the guy he lets everyone see. There's a side of him—small, hidden, buried—that's just a guy trying to get by, trying to survive like the rest of us.
"Fine," he says, turning back to walk down the alley. "We'll get food. But don't get used to it."
I follow him, our footsteps echoing off the walls of the narrow street. It's quiet, too quiet for a city that never stops moving, but maybe that's just the way it feels when you're not constantly running from something.
We reach the market soon enough. The hustle and bustle of the street fills the air—vendors calling out, haggling over prices, people rushing from one stall to the next. It's not the kind of place you'd expect two guys like us to be, but it's become a regular stop for Rune and me. I've learned that when you're on the streets, you get used to doing things you'd never do if you were living in some cushy little house.
"Pick something," Rune mutters, his eyes scanning the stalls. He doesn't need to say much more than that. I know what he means. It's not about luxury. It's about getting what we need—quick, easy, and cheap.
I approach a stall selling fresh bread and cheese. The bread smells good. The kind of food that makes you feel like maybe everything will be okay, even if just for a minute.
The old woman behind the stall gives me a toothless smile, and I return a polite nod. She's used to seeing people like me—people who don't have much but still want to eat.
"How much?" I ask, holding up a loaf of bread and a block of cheese.
She eyes me for a moment before calling out, "Two silver."
I reach into my pocket, pulling out the small amount of coins I've saved from jobs here and there. Rune's been training me, sure, but survival's about more than just power. It's about getting by in a world that doesn't care whether you live or die. And sometimes that means having just enough for the basics.
I hand over the silver, and she gives me a wink as she wraps the food in a cloth. "Thank you, boy. Come back soon."
I smile at her and head back to where Rune is standing, waiting like usual. He doesn't need to be told. He knows exactly what I've bought.
"Got the bread?" Rune asks, his eyes flicking to the wrapped food in my hands.
"Yeah," I reply. "And cheese."
Rune doesn't say anything more. He takes the food from me, pulling a knife from his belt and slicing off a piece of bread. He hands it back to me, and I take a bite, the crust hard and the cheese sharp.
It's not fancy, but it's enough.
"Good?" Rune asks, his voice almost curious.
"Better than starving," I reply with a grin, chewing thoughtfully. "You?"
"Not bad," he answers. His tone's neutral, but I know he's lying. I know he's just used to eating what he can. I've learned that about him too. He might act like the world doesn't matter, but little things like this—like sharing a meal, even a simple one—mean more to him than he'd ever admit.
We finish the bread and cheese in silence, our footsteps falling in sync as we walk further into the market. There's no grand conversation, no deep philosophy today. Just two people, doing what they need to do to get by. And for once, it feels okay. It feels normal, even though I know neither of us really knows what normal is anymore.
As we pass by a stall selling metal trinkets, Rune pauses, his fingers brushing over a small pendant—a silver chain with a charm shaped like a lightning bolt.
I raise an eyebrow. "You into jewelry now?"
Rune doesn't answer immediately. His fingers linger on the pendant for a moment longer, then he pulls his hand away. "It's just a trinket," he mutters. "Something to remember... some things."
I'm not sure what he means, but I don't ask. Not yet. Some stories aren't ready to be told.
We continue walking, the market stretching out in front of us like the world itself, full of possibilities and danger. But for today, there's nothing else but the rhythm of our footsteps, the occasional flicker of a smile between us, and the knowledge that we're just living.
Just two guys who've survived so far.
And that's enough