He woke alone.

  The space beside him was cold. Sera's scent still lingered on the pillow, but the naked, warm body that had been curled against his through the night was gone.

  On the table sat a cy bowl. Steam rose from it, carrying the earthy scent of potatoes and barley.

  Porridge.

  A knot of something warm and unfamiliar tightened in his chest.

  He ate slowly, scraping the st of the potato and barley from the bowl with his wooden spoon. The porridge was bnd, but it was warmth in his belly, and for now, that was enough...

  ...for now, Leo thought. It's finally time to put what we discussed into action.

  After finishing his breakfast and morning routine, Leo moved to the chest by the wall, the one holding their meager worldly possessions. He found the money pouch Sera kept tucked inside with their spare clothing. It was pitifully light, weighing almost nothing in his palm. He poured the contents onto the table.

  Copper coins. Twenty-one of them.

  All or nothing.

  The vilge - Ashwick , as the locals called it - was waking up. Vilgers could be seen moving about. Most of them were on their way to their own plot of nd, talking about the harvest and the tax to the local lord - Baron Aldric Voss. Some younger folks were leaving the vilge, either to go to the dungeon, or to find odd jobs in the nearest town, which was around 2 hours away on foot.

  Some of them greeted Leo and asked about his condition. He gave them a polite answer before going on his way.

  His destination was a shop that sold and bought stuff from the local dungeon delvers, wedged between a tavern and a butcher. A weathered sign depicting a rat skull and a rusted dagger hung above the door. Kerrin's.

  The bell above the door gave a cheerful jangle as Leo pushed inside. The shop was dim and cramped, the air thick with the scent of old leather, dried herbs, and something acrid like chemicals. Every avaible surface was covered in junk - piles of mismatched armor, crates of rusting tools, coils of rope, and jars filled with unidentifiable liquids.

  A man was hunched over a countertop, polishing a tarnished silver locket with a greasy rag. He had a face like a weasel, with small, restless eyes that darted up to Leo the moment the bell rang.

  "Well now. The dead man walks," Kerrin's voice was as slick as the oil on the rag he was holding. His eyes swept over Leo. "Heard someone used your head to ring the vilge bell. Surprised you remember your own name, let alone how to walk."

  "The healer is good," Leo said ftly, stepping closer to the counter. "And I need a new spearhead."

  Kerrin set the locket down.

  "And what are you pnning to do with a new spearhead? The rabbits in your fields grown fangs?"

  "Just fixing up old equipment."

  "That so?" Kerrin leaned forward, his eyes narrowing conspiratorially. "I don't remember you knowing how to wield a spear, but that wife of yours...Is she going to stop pretending to be a good housewife and get revenge on your behalf? You know who beat you up?"

  "I don't remember," Leo said, and it was the truth. "Also, it's not your damn business. Don't talk about my wife like that."

  "Pity. I like a good story," Kerrin barked out a ugh, not minding Leo's tone at all. "All right, a spearhead. Anything else?"

  "I need rope. Bandages. Waterskins."

  He tipped the contents of the money pouch onto the counter. The twenty-one coppers spilled out, a pathetic little pile against the dark wood.

  Kerrin stared at the coins.

  "You going to the dungeon, boy?"

  "Again, not your business. Are you going to get me the stuff I need or do I have to take my business elsewhere?"

  "Got a backbone, didn't ya?" Kerrin snickered, but didn't dig any deeper. He made a short trip around the shop, gathering the items that Leo needed. He then set them on the counter, before swiping the coins into his own bag.

  "There, now get out," Kerrin turned back to his oily rag and the silver locket. "And don't get killed. I don't want to expin to old Ronan that I was the one selling his son the stuff he needed to go into that death trap."

  The vilge was different after dark.

  Leo walked the dirt paths alone. There was no street mp, no car running on the street, nor the sound of people starting their night life.

  He truly was in another world. Even the most remote pce that Leo knew back on Earth wasn't this quiet.

  The houses he passed were shuttered and dark, their inhabitants long since retreated to beds, either to sleep or to get some nightly entertainment with their spouses, and the only sounds were the chirp of crickets, the distant hoot of an owl, and the soft rhythm of his own breathing.

  Leo had left the clean up after dinner to Sera. He was now on his way to pay his brother a visit.

  I hope he isn't at the tavern, he thought and let out a long sigh.

  Marsh's house sat at the edge of the vilge, slightly rger than Leo's. The windows were dark, the door shut tight. Dar should be resting by now, exhausted from her pregnancy and another day of managing a household, as well as a husband who couldn't seem to manage himself.

  But there was a figure in the yard.

  A man sat on a stump near the chicken coop, slouched forward with his elbows on his knees, a cy jug dangling from one hand. He was handsome, even in shadow, with the kind of good looks that had gotten him out of trouble as often as they'd gotten him into it.

  Marsh didn't notice Leo at first. He was staring at nothing. His whole posture spoke of a man who wasn't tired enough to sleep but was too tired to do anything else.

  Leo's foot crunched on a dry leaf.

  Marsh's head snapped up. His hand went to his belt - no weapon there, just instinct - and then rexed when he recognized the figure approaching in the darkness.

  "Leo?" His voice was rough. "The hell are you doing out here?"

  "Looking for you."

  "At this hour?" Marsh squinted at him, then barked a ugh. "Shit. For a second I thought you were a ghost. You look like one."

  "Thanks."

  "I mean it," Marsh gestured vaguely with the jug, ale sloshing inside. "The old healer's apprentice, Hanna, remember her? She told half the vilge you almost died. Said the men who found you thought you were already a corpse."

  "I got better."

  "Clearly," Marsh took a swig from the jug. Then he held it out, arm extended toward Leo. "Drink? It's shit ale, but it's not too bad."

  Leo crossed the remaining distance and took the jug, settling himself on the ground near Marsh's stump. The ale was exactly as advertised - thin and sour, more water than grain. He drank anyway, before passing the jug back.

  Comfortable silence settled between them.

  "I meant to visit," Marsh said eventually. "Da and Ma came by a few times but you were sleeping. They told me to go as well but..."

  "It's fine."

  "...things kept coming up, you know how it is, and then more time passed, and it got..."

  "Marsh. It's fine."

  Marsh fell silent. He took another drink and didn't look at Leo.

  "I'm sorry."

  "I'm not angry," Leo said. "I wasn't exactly good company anyway. Unconscious for most of it."

  "Yeah, well. Still. I should've come by. You're my brother," Marsh snorted.

  "And you're mine. Which is why I'm here."

  "That sounds like the start of a conversation I'm not going to like."

  "Maybe. Maybe not."

  "Cryptic bullshit. That's new for you," Marsh gave the jug back, and Leo took another sip of the terrible ale. "Alright, out with it. You didn't walk across the vilge in the middle of the night just to share my shit ale and stare at the moon."

  "How do you know?"

  "Because I know you," Marsh's eyes narrowed, studying Leo in the darkness. "I was the one who took care of you ever since you still peed your pants. If this were a simple visit, you'd have come during the day."

  "I'm going to the dungeon," Leo said.

  Marsh stared at him, waiting for the punchline. When none came, his eyebrows climbed toward his hairline.

  "...You're serious."

  "Yes."

  "The dungeon. The Verdant Pit, or whatever the old-timers call it?"

  "That's the one."

  "You...My little brother Leo. Who used to cross the street to avoid the miller's dogs. You're going into a dungeon."

  "With Sera. She's coming too."

  "Sera. I should have known. Did she push you to do this?"

  "No, this is my idea. I...I'm tired of being poor. Also my retionship with Sera just gets closer, I want her to have a better life."

  "Right. Right. So it's still because of her," Marsh scrubbed a hand through his hair, leaving it even more disheveled than before. "And you're telling me this because...?"

  "Because I need a third."

  Leo watched Marsh's face cycle through expressions - disbelief, calcution, something that might have been hope quickly smothered beneath practiced skepticism.

  "You want me," Marsh said. Not a question.

  "I want you."

  "To go into the dungeon."

  "Yes."

  "And fight monsters."

  "Yes."

  "With you and Sera."

  "Yes."

  Marsh ughed. It wasn't his usual charming ugh. This one had a wild edge to it.

  "Leo, I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly reliable. Ask anyone in the vilge. Ask Dar. Hell, ask the three people I currently owe money to."

  "I know."

  "I'm a screw-up."

  "I know."

  "...and you want me watching your back in a cave full of things that want to eat us?"

  "Yes."

  Marsh opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

  "Why?"

  Leo considered the question. The easy answer was 'because you can fight'. When they were children, Marsh had taken beatings from older boys to protect his little brother. When they were teenagers, Marsh had been the one the other young men didn't want to cross, even though he was never the biggest or the strongest.

  "Because you are the best at it," Leo said finally. "Watching my back, I mean."

  "You sound pretty sure about that," Marsh said softly, after a long moment of silence.

  "I am."

  "Why?"

  "You're my brother, and you have proven yourself," Leo shrugged.

  "Dar's going to kill me," Marsh muttered.

  "Is that a yes?"

  "It's a 'Dar's going to kill me.'," he retrieved the jug, took a long pull of the shit ale. "When?"

  "Early morning, before dawn. We're keeping it quiet. Just us three."

  "Yeah. Ma would have a fit if she found out," Marsh shook his head slowly, a rueful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You really think we can do this?"

  "I think we can try."

  "That's not a ringing endorsement."

  "It's the truth," Leo met his brother's eyes. "But I'd rather try with people I trust than not try at all."

  "You've changed," Marsh said quietly. "The way you just asked me that like it was nothing. Like you actually expected me to say yes. The old you would've fidgeted for an hour before getting to the point."

  Leo didn't answer.

  "Doesn't matter," Marsh said after a moment. "Whatever happened to you, I hope it's for the better. Before dawn. I'll be there."

  "Thank you, Marsh."

  "Don't thank me yet. Thank me when we come back with pockets full of coin and monster parts." He grinned, the charming mask sliding back into pce. "Now get out of here before Dar wakes up and starts asking questions I don't want to answer."

  Leo stood. His legs were stiff from sitting on the cold ground.

  "Marsh."

  His brother paused, halfway to the door.

  "I mean it. Thank you."

  Marsh didn't turn around. Just raised a hand in acknowledgment.

  Leo stood alone in the moonlit yard, listening to the crickets and the wind and the distant bark of someone's dog.

  After a moment, he turned and walked home.