Jay's Journey

Chapter 8

"Kidjya ain't got nearly 'nuff meat on yer bones!" Vayen's arms were crossed, and his foot was tapping rapidly against the planks of the dock. Him and two men were standing out in the harbor of the city, which Vayen now knew to be called Lunabae. He was trying to get a job carrying crates but these assholes wouldn't let him. Apparently he was too skinny. Well how the fuck was he supposed to explain he'd been living in woods off berries for a whole fucking month! Almost anyone else would have become a wilted string bean given that treatment.

"I'm strong enough, I promise ya!" He said enthusiastically, desperately wanting to cuss the guy out. He was a buff man with tanned skin, brown hair, and a prominent beard. When Vayen grew up, he wanted to look like a clean shaven version of him.

"Kid, people say that and pass out after an hour. You wouldn't know what it's like to be active all day." The other said. He had black hair and yellow tinted skin. He wasn't buff, probably had a bunch of others doing things for him, rich bastard.

"I hiked through a buncha woods for a month! I can do it!" Vayen declared. The buff man rolled his eyes.

"Look, Vayen, was it?" The thinner one inquired. All of his outfit was well cut, probably custom tailored.

"Yeah." Vayen replied.

"I'd love a guy like you to work for me. I own a restaurant and I could use another waiter. You're a handsome young boy with a lot of energy, it's a perfect job for you." He insisted. Vayen shook his head.

"I know my limits, that kinda work's not for me. Manual stuff's all I got." Vayen said.

"I wouldn't be so sure. Be a waiter, it's a fine job! Give it a couple years and you'll have enough muscle on ya to carry crates." The buff man said. Vayen sighed. He wasn't going to convince them, was he? Fine, he'd just have to deal with being a waiter in some rich asshole's restaurant. Oh well, there were worse jobs out there.

"Alright. When do I start?" Vayen asked.

"You may start tomorrow. Show up about an hour before sunset. I want you to wear dark colors, something vaguely formal or something that resembles formality. I'll get you a paycheck of ten golds at the end of two weeks. I want you in six days a week for four hours. It's a short job, we're only open for dinners. Does that sound good?"

No, it did not. Who did the piece of shit think he was? Vayen wanted him to shove his waiter offer up his ass and walk away. He wanted to do some actual work, not some part time shit that paid dirt cheap. The guy was rich too, he could pay more.

"What's the place?" Vayen asked.

"Vesperium, it's near the North side of the harbor." The restaurant owner answered. Of course the place was named some fancy ancient Maean bullshit. That name could mean 'Give us money assholes' and no one would fucking know better.

"I'll be there." Vayen said before promptly walking away, not bothering to wave. Of course he had to be the one who didn't get the job he wanted.

The moment the three had gotten there, they'd found a cheap apartment with a single bedroom and running water before immediately going off to find ways of making money. In Zira's case, that meant lurking in richer neighborhoods and using her skills to snag coins and jewelry. Jay knew enough to become a seamstress and no one had batted an eyelash. Vayen had said he was already good at looking like a girl. But there wasn't magic flying everywhere so there had to be more to being a girl than that.

He'd wanted a manual job, a man's job, somewhere his strength was useful. But no, apparently he was better at being a waiter. Maybe he was, two people had looked at him and told him he wasn't cut out for a manual job. What if they were right? What if he'd been worn away into a string bean and had to work to regain lost muscle.