They pushed open the door to the inn with the weight of fatigue in their bones. The walk hadn't been too long, but the food had settled in, and now all any of them wanted was to lay down and rest. Bral led the way as usual, striding up to the counter with the casual confidence of someone who had done this a hundred times.
"We'd like two rooms," he said.
The old man behind the counter—bald on top, with a long grey beard and thick brows that seemed to weigh down his eyes—looked up from his ledger with a polite but apologetic expression. "I'm sorry," he said. "I don't currently have two rooms available. All the rooms in this inn—except one—have been rented out."
Bral let out a sigh and leaned on the counter. "Great. Then we'll just find another inn."
The old man scratched the back of his head, clearly uncomfortable. "Ah… actually, this is the only inn in the village. Even with the festival, we didn't expect this many travelers."
A long silence followed. Bral slowly turned around to the rest of the group, his hands raised as if to say, What can I do?
"Well," he said, "we don't have much choice. We'll all have to sleep in one room."
They all nodded—except for Bao, who immediately crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "Perv…" she muttered, looking away like she'd just witnessed a moral tragedy.
Bral threw his hands up. "Hey! Hey! There are no other options!"
"Every one of them says the same thing," Bao said flatly.
He looked at her, defeated. "It's not like I arranged this. I'm just trying not to sleep in the woods!"
The old man, either oblivious or indifferent to the chaos he'd caused, handed over the key. "Room number twenty-eight," he said with a warm smile. "I… just hope you'll all fit in there."
Bral took the key with a slow blink. "Great. Comforting."
They climbed the creaky staircase in a tired silence. Bral stopped in front of the room, inserted the key, and turned the handle. The moment the door creaked open, he just… froze.
Idin stepped up behind him. "What? Why are you standing there like that? Move."
Bral stepped aside like a ghost, arm limp as he gestured to the room. It was… pitiful.
A single bed—maybe wide enough for one-and-a-half people—sat crammed against the wall of what looked more like a corridor than a room. A table the size of a cutting board stood at the far end, beneath a lone candle that flickered with a sad, sputtering flame. The walls were so close together that you could touch both sides with your arms barely stretched.
Idin stared blankly. "This is a room for one person."
"Maybe two," Amukelo added, leaning in. "If one doesn't mind sleeping directly on the floor."
Bral recovered fast, as always. "Well, I call the bed."
"No way," Bao snapped. "There is no way I sleep on the ground."
"You think I want to?" Bral shot back. "I paid for this room."
Bao squinted at him. "Well, you're the only one who claimed the bed like some spoiled little prince!"
Bral grinned and waved dramatically toward the bed. "Then want to share it with me?"
Bao's face flushed instantly. She glanced around the room, clearly calculating whether violence was worth it. Then, in one swift motion, she pulled out her bow and nocked an arrow.
Bral immediately raised both hands, eyes wide. "Whoa! Hey! I was asking! Don't be so dramatic!"
Amukelo couldn't help but laugh quietly at the whole scene. Pao just shook her head with a sigh and muttered, "Children…"
Meanwhile, Idin looked more tired than amused. "Alright, alright. Enough with this. We need to figure out who's actually sleeping in here and who's not."
Pao offered a suggestion. "We could draw lots or something?"
Bao huffed. "Or we could just send him to the stable." She jabbed a thumb toward Bral.
Bral crossed his arms. "Not a chance. Again—I paid for the room."
Amukelo stepped forward, examining the space a little more carefully. "Okay, look. Two people could probably lie on the floor. And maybe, just maybe, two people could fit on that bed if they curled up."
"I'm not curling up next to Bral," Bao snapped.
"No one is asking you to," Bral shot back.
Idin sighed and rubbed his temples. "Okay. Enough with this nonsense. We actually need to choose who sleeps outside."
And with that, the room fell into a tense silence, for a moment, no one spoke.
Amukelo sighed and glanced around at the rest of them. They all seemed too tired to argue any further. With a quiet, calm voice, he said, "Well… I don't mind sleeping outside."
All heads turned toward him.
"I'm used to living in the wild anyway," he continued. "Sleeping on wheat? That's a luxury compared to back then."
Pao stiffened. Her hand gripped the edge of her robe slightly tighter. "Amukelo…" she said softly, clearly about to object.
Idin raised an eyebrow. "You sure? It's going to be cold tonight. You've gotten used to inns and beds now."
But Amukelo shrugged. "I lived through worse. Right after I left my village, I slept through nights colder than this without any roof, food, or even a proper blanket. I'll be fine."
There was a silence again, and then Idin glanced at the others. "Any objections?"
Pao opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Amukelo was already stretching his back and heading toward the door. "Really, it's not an issue for me at all," he said, waving his hand behind him casually. "I'll be back by morning."
The door shut softly behind him.
Inside, there was a long exhale.
"So…" Bral began, rubbing his chin and looking at the narrow room with a sort of theatrical sigh. "Now that we've managed that, how do we handle this mess? Who's sleeping on the floor?"
Bao rubbed her forehead. "Rock, paper, scissors?"
Bral's eyes lit up. "Fine. If I win, Idin and me get the bed."
"If I win," Bao snapped back, "Pao and I get it."
Bral grinned. "Haha. I'm unbeatable at this."
They played.
Bral lost.
He glared at his own hand like it had betrayed him.
As the group settled in for the night, the tiny room somehow looked even smaller once four of them began taking up space. Bral and Idin lay uncomfortably on the wooden floor with their blankets barely offering cushion, while Pao and Bao, victorious, took the cramped bed that was clearly built for one average-sized person, not two.
Bral was curled beside Idin with his knees drawn up. He muttered under his breath, "Ahh… Why did I even agree to this? I should've just said, 'I paid for it,' which is technically true…"
Idin, lying with one arm over his eyes, groaned. "Bral, can you finally shut up? We're all trying to sleep."
"You should be thanking me," Bral whispered back bitterly. "I sacrificed my pride for this arrangement."
"The only thing sacrificed tonight was our comfort," Idin hissed. "Now sleep."
Bral sighed dramatically and turned his back to him.
Outside, Amukelo lay on a modest patch of straw near the stable. The roof only covered the horses, so he had no choice but to lie beneath the open sky. It wasn't entirely unpleasant—there was a calming breeze, and the stars overhead were bright and scattered across the heavens like scattered jewels. But sleep wouldn't come.
He kept shifting in place. His muscles ached. Not from physical pain, but from thoughts that wouldn't settle. He sighed and stared up at the stars.
"If what those people said in the pub is just made up…" he muttered to himself, voice soft, "Then what's the truth?"
His voice barely reached past the horses nearby, who occasionally stirred in their stalls. He rolled onto his side, arms crossed against the cold. His sword lay nearby, and he found his hand drifting toward it—an old habit of instinct.
He'd never really understood who "God" was. His mother had spoken of Him with reverence. Told him that He was good, and that He loved people, and that following Him brought peace. But those people in the pub… they made it sound harsh. Like a list of rules and punishments. Like a game he didn't know the rules of.
He groaned and covered his face with an arm. "Agh… I shouldn't be thinking this late…"
Then he heard a soft rustle. His eyes snapped open. Instinct kicked in—his hand went straight for the sword—but then he heard a gentle voice.
"Oh, Amu… are you not sleeping?"
He relaxed instantly.
"Pao?" he said, sitting up as he saw her step out from the shadows.
She was still in her robe, arms folded against the chill. Her hair was slightly tousled, her face drowsy but soft.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, genuinely surprised.
She stepped closer, her eyes adjusting to the dark as she stood over him.
"I was suffocating in that tiny room," she said, making a face. "You try sharing that bed with Bao. It was like cuddling a cactus. And Bral was snoring so loudly, it felt like a war drum next to my ear."
He smiled, leaning his head back slightly.
"So," she added gently, "I thought I'd check on you. But why aren't you sleeping?"