The spin of fortune still whirled in Xefer's mind, promising him a ship with facilities, soft beds, and defenses beyond imagination. Yet his focus drifted to the laughter outside.
He moved quietly, pushing open the inn's door. The street was alive with chatter, but the cruel laughter cut through it like a blade.
Three girls stood in the center, dressed in flashy, expensive clothes. Their hair was styled perfectly, their jewelry glittered in the sun. They circled another figure — Kiruko.
Her clothes were simple but clean, freshly washed. Her hair was damp, strands clinging to her cheeks. In her hands she clutched a washed book about medicine, its pages worn but cared for.
The flashy girls sneered.
"Do you really think you'll ever be a doctor?" one mocked.
"You have no parents, no money, no strength," another added.
"You're weak, poor, and pathetic. Who would trust you to heal them?" the third laughed.
Kiruko did not break down. She stood firm, her grip tight on the book, her eyes sharp. But deep within those eyes, Xefer saw it — pain. A large, silent pain that burned behind her resolve.
The crowd chuckled, some joining in the mockery. Kiruko's face remained calm, but her heart trembled.
Xefer's storm stirred. His aura surged forth, invisible yet crushing. The air thickened, heavy, suffocating. The mockers gasped, their laughter faltering as their breaths grew shallow.
The flashy girls clutched their throats, their eyes wide. The crowd staggered, confusion spreading.
Slowly, every head turned. Their eyes locked on Xefer, standing at the inn's door. His gaze was cold, his storm swirling faintly around him.
The laughter died. Silence fell.
Xefer's grin was sharp, his voice calm but heavy. "You mock someone for being poor, for being alone, for dreaming? That says more about you than it does about her."
The flashy girls trembled, their confidence shattered. The crowd stepped back, fear spreading.
Kiruko's eyes widened. She recognized the aura, the storm, the presence. Her grip on the book tightened, her heart pounding.
Xefer stepped forward, his storm pressing down. "A doctor isn't made by wealth or parents. A doctor is made by resolve. And she has more resolve than any of you."
The flashy girls staggered, their faces pale. The crowd whispered, fear and awe mixing.
Kiruko's lips parted, her voice trembling but strong. "Thank you… but I don't need pity. I'll prove myself."
Xefer's grin softened. "Good. Because I don't give pity. I give storms. And storms break everything in their path."
The aura eased, the air lightened. The flashy girls gasped, stumbling back. The crowd dispersed, their laughter gone.
Kiruko stood alone, her book clutched tight, her eyes burning with resolve.
Xefer turned, his storm fading. "Come inside," he said simply.
Kiruko hesitated, then nodded. She stepped forward, her heart heavy but her spirit unbroken.
The spin in Xefer's mind slowed, the promise of a ship waiting. But now, another promise stirred — the promise of a new member.