The orphanage dining hall was a battlefield.
"STOP THROWING PEAS."
"I WAS AIMING AT HIS FACE."
"WHY IS THE SOUP MOVING??"
"That's not soup, that's MY BOWL!"
Wooden tables rattled. Spoons clanged. Chairs scraped. Somewhere, a child was laughing maniacally while another attempted to stack bread rolls into a tower of questionable engineering integrity.
At the head of the table stood the head of the orphanage—a tired, middle-aged man with kind eyes, a thinning hairline, and the posture of someone who had long since accepted that peace was a myth.
He raised his hands.
"Alright, everyone," he said calmly. "Let us give thanks for the food before we eat."
Silence fell.
For exactly three seconds.
"WHY DO WE HAVE TO PRAY IF I'M ALREADY HUNGRY?"
"CAN I PRAY FASTER THAN YOU?"
"I'M THANKFUL FOR MEAT."
"I'M THANKFUL FOR NOT DYING TODAY."
"I'M THANKFUL FOR GA—"
"QUIET!" the head snapped.
The room froze.
He inhaled. Exhaled. Smiled again like a man choosing mercy over arson.
"Thank you," he said. "Now… let us pray."
They bowed their heads.
Some actually closed their eyes.
Some peeked.
One kid immediately stole another's bread.
"…and thank you for this meal, for our shelter, and for watching over us," the head finished. "Amen."
"AMEN!"
"FINALLY!"
"EAT EAT EAT—"
The dining hall erupted again as the children dug in like starving goblins.
Gaius sat quietly, eating neatly, posture straight, movements precise. Around him, chaos incarnate unfolded—elbows flying, food disappearing at impossible speeds.
A kid leaned over his shoulder.
"So~ Gaius," the boy whispered loudly, "are those rich kids your friends?"
"They're not my friends," Gaius said flatly, not looking up.
Another kid popped in from the other side.
"Then why did they walk you home?"
"They kidnapped you?"
"Are you gonna be rich now?"
"Can I have a sword?"
"They're. Not. My. Friends," Gaius repeated.
Across the table, the head of the orphanage watched him thoughtfully.
After a moment, he spoke.
"You know, Gaius… having friends isn't a weakness."
Gaius paused.
"They're just… noisy," he muttered.
The head chuckled.
"Maybe. But sometimes, noisy people are the ones who stay."
Gaius didn't reply.
Later that night, the orphanage settled into something resembling quiet. The younger kids were asleep, sprawled across beds in positions that defied anatomy. The hallways dimmed, lanterns glowing softly.
Outside, under the faint starlight, Gaius sat on the steps with Florina. She held a mug of warm tea; he had one too, though he hadn't touched it yet.
"So," Florina said gently, "those kids you walked with today."
"They're not my friends," Gaius said out of habit.
She smiled.
"You say that a lot."
"…They're strange."
"That's not a no."
He frowned slightly, staring out at the town.
"They don't need me."
Florina tilted her head.
"And that bothers you?"
"…Yes."
She was quiet for a moment.
"Someday," she said, "I want to open a flower shop."
Gaius blinked and looked at her.
"A… flower shop?"
"Mm-hm. A small one. Somewhere peaceful. I'd sell bouquets, help people with gifts, funerals, celebrations… all that."
He thought about it.
"…That sounds nice."
She smiled wider.
"What about you?"
Gaius hesitated. Then spoke, voice steady but honest.
"I want to be an adventurer. I want to be strong. Strong enough to protect this place. To make money so none of the kids here ever have to worry again."
Florina looked at him for a long moment.
"…You're already doing that," she said softly.
He frowned.
"I am?"
"You stay. You help. You endure. That counts."
Gaius looked away, embarrassed.
"…Those kids," he said quietly. "They looked happy."
Florina laughed.
"Careful. That's how it starts."
He didn't argue.
Inside the orphanage, the children slept peacefully.
And somewhere in Fareday, three chaotic figures were probably already planning their next dumb decision.
But tonight—
Under a loud roof and a quiet sky—
A reluctant boy dreamed of a future just a little less lonely.
End of Episode 3 🌙