Annan had become the third employee at the Dawn Tavern.
Aside from the owner, Mr. Fast, and Martin, there was Evelyn—the longest-serving worker. According to Martin, Evelyn had been there long before he arrived. She was a young girl about Annan's age, with freckles scattered across her cheeks. Her responsibilities included working the counter and serving drinks.
Martin, who was prone to making mistakes, was relegated to clearing tables after customers left and, when he thought no one was watching, sneaking bites of leftover food. When Annan reminded him not to do this in front of Mr. Fast, Martin stubbornly defended his actions, as though the scraps were a rightful prize.
As a newcomer, Annan shared Evelyn's duties, focusing primarily on serving drinks. However, most customers preferred Evelyn over him, likely because she was the only girl working in the tavern. For the most part, Annan and Martin spent their time cleaning tables.
Mr. Fast occasionally helped out during particularly busy times, but he usually leaned against the counter, arms folded, with a rapier at his side. He would listen to the bard's stories with a half-squinted gaze, appearing more like a thug than a tavern owner.
Despite the noise during its busiest hours, the Dawn Tavern rarely reached more than half its capacity.
Pinglin Town, situated at the edge of a forest, was a remote settlement with a population of just two to three thousand. Most of the townsfolk were too poor to afford the beer sold here, while the wealthier residents avoided the place entirely, disdaining the rougher clientele. The tavern mostly attracted adventurers seeking information, drunkards, and the occasional bard.
Annan liked the bard. Not only did his endless chatter help Annan improve his vocabulary, but his tales of grandeur and adventure opened a window into a world beyond the mundane. However, many of the bard's stories were riddled with slang, crude humor, and vulgar innuendos.
"...And then, the warlock 'handled' the seductive female lizardman in the woods," the bard quipped, prompting bursts of laughter from the patrons.
From moments like these, Annan learned a surprising amount about language—starting with swear words and double meanings.
The bard often spoke of Mr. Fast, describing him as a "professional warrior of elite level." It seemed unusual for someone of such caliber to settle in a small town like Pinglin. The bard frequently tried to probe Mr. Fast's past but never managed to get any answers.
Annan had never seen Mr. Fast fight, but the man's reputation alone deterred any would-be troublemakers.
Mr. Fast, despite his intimidating aura, was approachable and occasionally cracked jokes—though his humor was often met with Evelyn's rolling eyes. Annan and Martin rarely understood the jokes, so the moments were lost on them.
During quiet moments, Annan often mimicked Mr. Fast's habit of observing the bard and the tavern's patrons. Adventurers intrigued him the most, though none of them seemed as exotic as the stories described. There were no elves or wizards, and races like orcs or dwarves were even less likely to show up in a remote human town like Pinglin.
Through the bard's tales, Annan learned of a world filled with swords and sorcery, gods and dragons, evil deities and strange corruption, demons and the abyss. But not all stories were pleasant. He often heard grim accounts of disasters: a swarm of rats overrunning a southern city, cultists sacrificing an entire coastal town, greenskins conquering a kingdom, or a magical tide capturing a strategic pass.
"Annan," Mr. Fast called, snapping him out of his thoughts.
He placed a glass of juice on the counter and pointed to a shadowy corner of the tavern. "Take this to the lady sitting over there."
Annan hesitated. "Mr. Fast, my common language isn't very good…" he mumbled, the sentence itself evidence of his struggle.
"It's fine. Just say 'yes' if you don't understand." Mr. Fast clapped him on the shoulder with a grin.
Annan carefully picked up the glass and approached the woman.
She was strikingly beautiful, her high cheekbones and sculpted features giving her an air of sophistication. She wore a rose-red dress adorned with floral patterns, and her long, wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders. Her fair skin seemed to glow faintly under the dim light, and her elegant demeanor felt completely out of place in the rustic tavern.
As Annan set the glass down and turned to leave, the lady spoke. "I haven't seen you before."
"Yes."
"You're not from around here, are you?"
"Yes."
The woman arched an eyebrow, clearly amused by his curt responses. "Can you say anything else besides 'yes'?"
"Yes."
She chuckled, leaning forward slightly as her dark hair fell around her face. "You're a curious one, aren't you?" Her gaze lingered on his ashen-dusted face. "Tell me, boy—have you ever experienced the joys of being a man?"
Annan froze, sensing something inappropriate in her words. He glanced nervously toward the counter.
Mr. Fast nodded encouragingly, his grin widening.
"…Yes."
The woman's lips curled into a sly smile. "So, are you interested in 'helping' me?"
"…Yes?"
Realizing he had been teased, Annan quickly retreated to the counter, his face flushed with embarrassment.
Evelyn shot a disapproving glance at Mr. Fast, who raised his drink in acknowledgment of the lady, clearly an old acquaintance.
Martin sidled up to Annan, muttering, "How come you can chat with female customers for so long? They just tell me to scram."
"Why do you think Mr. Fast hired me?" Annan replied, though his limited vocabulary failed to explain further.
Martin's expression twisted into something between suspicion and disbelief.
As the night wore on, the bard swapped his tales for soft lute music. The noise in the tavern subsided, and Mr. Fast retired to the back, leaving Martin to keep an eye on things.
Annan watched in amazement as Martin somehow managed to look left with one eye and right with the other.
"How are you doing that?" he asked, incredulous.
Martin grinned. "Why do you think Mr. Fast hired me?"
By midnight, the last of the customers had staggered out, and Evelyn flipped the sign to close.
The first day of work had gone well. Annan even managed to score an untouched slice of pumpkin pie left behind by a customer.
Back at Aunt Susan's house, the lights in the couple's bedroom were still on as Annan and Martin returned.
Martin climbed into bed and soon began snoring.
Annan placed his coat by the bed, his thoughts lingering on the fantastical world he had glimpsed through the bard's stories.
As he drifted into sleep, he dreamed of an endless void. Four radiant orbs floated before him, each glowing with a distinct hue: green for life, purple for passion, red for bravery, and blue for wisdom.
The four orbs danced around him, spreading beauty and light—until a pure black halo appeared. It scattered the orbs with a sudden burst of golden light.
Annan awoke to sunlight warming his face.