Ash didn't so much invite Todd and Milo to the forest as he did carry the conversation away from the monument by force.
One moment they were still half-arguing about Luneth and Dagonell like the statues might sit up and vote. The next, Ash had both of them by the backs of their collars and was walking with the calm certainty of someone taking two stray cats home.
"Move boys," he said, tone casual like he was asking them to step aside at a market stall.
Todd's feet scrambled. Milo's feet scrambled louder.
"W-wait—Ash!" Todd protested.
"W-wait! Ash!!" Milo echoed in perfect sync, like they practiced.
I hurried after them, sling tugging at my shoulder with each step. My side gave a quiet, sharp reminder that my body still didn't agree with my plans. I gritted my teeth and kept my pace steady anyway.
Ash glanced back over his shoulder once, caught the way I adjusted my steps, and slowed just a fraction. Not enough that it looked like he was doing it for me. Just enough that it didn't feel like I was chasing a carriage.
We left the stone plaza behind. The semicircle of heroes stood in the distance, all facing the inscription, all offering their empty hilts like silent judges.
The steel sword in the center caught a dull glint of daylight, and for a moment the world felt like it was holding its breath.
Then the trees swallowed us.
Primrose Forest wasn't a wall of green the way I'd always pictured forests in my head. It started gently—wide trunks spaced apart, the ground still showing patches of stone and hard-packed soil from the path that led adventurers through. Sunlight filtered down in thin strips, turning dust into glitter.
The air smelled different outside the wall.
Not fish and carts and people.
It smelled like earth. Sap. Cool shade. Something faintly sweet, like flowers I couldn't see.
I couldn't help staring.
Milo immediately noticed my staring and inhaled like he was about to narrate my entire life.
"Behold," he began in a hushed, reverent voice, "the ancient wilds—"
Ash's hand reached back without looking and flicked Milo's forehead.
"Behold quietly," he said.
Milo yelped softly and rubbed his forehead, outraged. "That was violence against storytelling."
"That was prevention," Ash replied.
Todd clicked his tongue. "He deserved it."
Milo pointed at Todd. "You're just jealous because your hero has a sword and my hero has a dragon heart!"
Todd pointed back. "Because mine is normal!"
Ash sighed like a man who regretted knowing children.
He stopped at the edge where the path narrowed, where the underbrush thickened enough that you couldn't just wander without scratching yourself raw. He turned and looked at all three of us like we were about to take a test.
"Alright," he said. "Before we go deeper—rules."
Todd straightened immediately, expression sharpening like he'd been waiting for this moment.
Milo stood a little taller too, but mostly because he was trying to look like a heroic statue.
I nodded quickly.
Ash lifted a finger. "First. We're not playing around. We're doing a real quest."
Milo opened his mouth—
Ash lifted a second finger. "Second. We're not here to be impressive. We're here to do the quest perfectly. That means no wandering off to 'discover destiny' and no jumping into bushes because you heard a squirrel sneeze."
Milo's face collapsed in theatrical despair. "But destiny—"
Ash looked at him.
Milo immediately corrected himself. "But… accuracy."
Todd nodded solemnly as if Ash had spoken a sacred oath.
Ash lifted a third finger. "Third. If I say stop, you stop. If I say crouch, you crouch. If I say move, you move. No questions until after."
He lowered his hand and added, more casual, "These are normal rules. Don't make it weird."
Todd didn't make it weird.
Milo made it weird by saluting. "Yes, Captain."
Ash ignored that too, which was probably a skill he'd trained.
Then he demonstrated with his hands.
He held up a closed fist. "This means freeze."
Two fingers forward. "Follow."
Palm down, slow. "Crouch."
A quick tap on his shoulder. "Regroup."
He repeated them once, quick, like he expected our brains to keep up.
Todd nodded sharply, memorizing.
Milo repeated the gestures out loud as if chanting a spell. "Freeze. Follow. Crouch. Regroup."
I copied them carefully with my right hand. My left was useless in its sling, and the bandages under it pulled a little as I moved.
Ash's eyes flicked to my sling again. He didn't comment. He just shifted his own pace closer to mine, like he was quietly anchoring me.
"Anything else?" Todd asked, too eager.
Ash tilted his head. "Yes. Don't touch things you can't name."
Milo blinked. "What if it's shiny?"
Ash blinked back. "Especially if it's shiny."
Todd made a pleased sound, like he enjoyed rules being harsh.
I swallowed and nodded again.
Ash turned and started walking, as if the rules were now active and the forest was officially a classroom.
"Stay within sight," he said over his shoulder. "And Milo?"
Milo perked up. "Yes?"
"Use your indoor voice," Ash said.
Milo put a hand to his chest, wounded. "My voice is a gift."
Ash didn't even look back. "It's a warning bell."
Todd snorted.
Milo hissed at him, offended, and then immediately tried to whisper at maximum dramatic intensity. "Understood."
***
We didn't go far before Ash finally pulled out what he'd been carrying folded in his inner pocket.
A sheet of paper, thick and official-looking, with a few stamps at the bottom—guild stamps. The ink was dark enough it looked like it had been pressed with force.
He held it out toward me while still walking. "Here."
I took it with my right hand carefully, unfolding it as I walked. The paper crackled.
At the top, it read:
GATHERING COMMISSIONS — PRIMROSE FOREST ROUTE
Below it were several requests written in neat lines, each with a quantity and reward.
I blinked.
Ash hadn't brought us out here on a whim. He'd planned this like a normal day.
I scanned the list.
Sunleaf Sprigs (x12) — 1 copper
Ironstem Bark (x6 strips) — 1 copper
Clearwater Bulbs (x8) — 1 copper
Bitterbark Resin (1 vial) — 3 copper(rare / bonus for quality)
Bluecap Mushrooms (x10) — 1 copper(do not bruise)
Glowmoss Threads (x4 bundles) — 2 copper(only from shaded stone)
At the bottom, written in smaller letters:
Commissions may be combined if gathered along the same route. Reward depends on condition and quality. Report to guild counter upon return.
My mouth went a little dry.
"Wait," I said, staring at the numbers. "One copper… each?"
Ash nodded. "That's gathering quests. Most of the time, one copper per request."
Milo leaned in over my shoulder like a hungry bird. "Look at that! Copper! We are rich!"
Todd shoved Milo's face away with two fingers. "Don't breathe on the paper."
Milo made a noise of outrage. "I'm appreciating the economy!"
I kept reading, trying to keep my voice steady.
"And you can take multiple?" I asked.
Ash nodded again. "If they overlap. Most gathering routes do. You pick what you can carry, what you can find, and you turn it in."
I blinked down at the list.
In my head, numbers started lining up like soldiers.
One copper could feed me for… a cheap meal, if I was careful. Maybe more. If I stacked two or three of these—
I swallowed.
"Errand quests," Ash continued casually, "those quick ones? Fifty iron. Sometimes less. They're good when you're new, or when you're desperate."
I flinched slightly because I knew exactly what he meant. Errands were all I'd been doing. The little jobs. The tiny pay.
Ash glanced at me. "Gathering is better if you're willing to walk and pay attention."
Todd scoffed. "Heroes don't count coins."
Ash didn't even look at him. "Heroes still eat."
Todd's mouth shut.
Milo threw his arms wide again. "We will eat like legends!"
Ash sighed. "You'll eat like boys who don't want stomachaches."
I looked at the list again, heart tight with a strange mix of hope and anxiety.
"And… three copper?" I pointed at Bitterbark Resin.
Ash's mouth twitched. "That one's luck. Bitterbark doesn't always bleed resin. And when it does, it's easy to ruin if you don't know what you're doing."
My fingers tightened around the paper. "But if you do get it…"
"Three copper," Ash confirmed. "Sometimes more if it's clean."
Milo's eyes sparkled like coins. "Treasure!"
Todd narrowed his eyes like it was a tactical challenge. "We should prioritize the rare one."
Ash finally looked at him. "We should prioritize not ruining it. Do what you can do well. That's the fastest way to stop being poor."
That line landed in my chest harder than it should've.
Ash didn't say it dramatically. He said it like he'd learned it with blood and empty stomachs.
I nodded slowly and folded the list back up with care.
"Keep it," Ash said.
I froze. "Me?"
Ash shrugged like it was obvious. "You're the one who needs to learn this."
My throat tightened.
I tucked the paper into my pocket carefully, like it was worth more than copper.
***
Primrose Forest deepened as we walked. The path narrowed into something less traveled—still clear enough that you could tell it was used, but now the forest pressed in on both sides.
Ash walked like he knew every root.
Todd walked like he was trying to look like he knew every root.
Milo walked like he was about to announce each root's heroic name.
I walked carefully, paying attention to my footing because my side hurt whenever I stepped wrong.
Ash slowed again without making a show of it.
He led us into a small clearing where the ground was softer, more covered in leaf litter. Sunlight dappled through branches overhead.
"Alright," he said, and pointed with two fingers forward—follow—then tapped his shoulder—regroup.
We gathered close.
"This patch," Ash said, "has Sunleaf and Ironstem nearby. Easy start."
Milo clasped his hands. "The first harvest of our grand expedition—"
Ash raised a closed fist.
Milo froze immediately, mid-sentence, eyes wide.
Ash didn't even look at him. He looked at me.
"Basket," he said.
I blinked. "Basket?"
Ash pulled a small pouch and a folded cloth sack from his pack and handed them to me. "Trey, you carry this. Light load."
I nodded quickly. My right hand took it. My left arm stayed hanging uselessly in its sling.
Todd looked offended on my behalf. "He's injured."
Ash nodded. "That's why he carries the light bag. It teaches him to manage and watch. Todd, you scan left. Milo, you watch right."
Milo saluted again, quieter this time. "Yes, Commander."
Todd muttered, "It's not a war."
Ash said, "It can become one if you trip."
Todd stopped arguing.
We spread out slightly—still within sight, just as Ash said.
I crouched near a patch of low plants with thin leaves that caught sunlight and almost looked like they were glowing.
Sunleaf.
I hesitated, hand hovering.
Ash's voice came instantly, calm but sharp. "Name it."
"Sunleaf," I said.
"Good," Ash replied. "How do you know?"
I blinked. "It… looks like the picture?"
Todd made a faint scoffing noise.
Ash said, "That's one way. Better way?"
I stared harder, forcing my brain to work.
The leaf shape was narrow, slightly serrated. The stem had a faint golden vein line. The smell when I rubbed it gently between my fingers—warm, almost citrus.
"It smells… like citrus," I said.
Ash nodded. "Good. Sunleaf has a warm bite. Pick the sprigs, not the whole plant. Leave roots."
I carefully pinched a sprig and pulled. It came free with a soft snap.
Milo's whisper drifted from the right, overly intense. "He harvests like a hero choosing mercy."
Todd hissed, "Stop narrating."
Milo whispered, "I am whispering."
Todd whispered back, "You are whispering loudly."
Ash raised a palm down—crouch—even though we were already crouched. It was more like a command to calm down.
They both quieted.
I focused on picking. One sprig. Two. Three.
My side pulled when I leaned too far, so I shifted my knees instead, careful.
Ash moved through the clearing like a shadow that wasn't trying to be scary—checking, correcting, occasionally pointing without speaking.
He stopped near me and nodded toward the ground. "Footprints."
I blinked. "Where?"
He pointed at a patch of soft soil near the edge where leaf litter had been disturbed.
At first I saw nothing.
Then I saw it.
A slight depression. A broken stem.
Something had passed.
"How recent?" Ash asked.
I stared, forcing my brain to stop being a city brain.
"The stem… it's still wet," I said slowly. "So… not long?"
Ash nodded once. "Good. Also see the soil? Still crumbling at the edge. Recent."
A chill threaded into my stomach.
"Monster?" I whispered.
Ash shook his head slightly. "Probably deer. Or boar. Not everything is a monster."
Milo whispered immediately, unable to help himself. "But everything could be destiny."
Todd whispered, "Everything could be stupid."
Ash ignored both and added, "Still—good habit. Always look."
I nodded, heart pounding a little less.
We continued gathering. Sunleaf sprigs went into the cloth sack gently.
Then Ash led us to another patch where a thin, tough-looking plant grew near a stone.
He tapped it. "Ironstem."
Todd crouched and reached for it like he was about to perform surgery. "This one is easy."
Ash nodded. "Strip bark, not peel the whole stem."
Todd began stripping.
Milo leaned over my shoulder again. "We are doing labor."
I whispered, "Yes."
Milo whispered back, dramatic. "It is noble."
Todd muttered, "It is boring."
Ash said without turning, "It pays."
Todd shut up again.
We moved from patch to patch, the forest slowly pressing in. The air cooled under thicker canopy.
Time started to feel different.
Inside the wall, time was measured by bells and lines and conversations at counters.
Here, time was measured by sunlight angle and how quickly your water ran low.