7 Where Is Home?

Jacob awoke to a splitting headache for the second time in as many days. Sunlight streamed in from the open window, producing an ungodly heat in the room. He groaned as he gradually sat up while running his fingers over his tender skull. Fortunately, there didn't seem to be any blood. That being said, he still looked like a winded horse after passing out in the extreme heat of his room.

He took it upon himself to go visit the inn's solitary bathroom. Rod had promised him that he could utilize the room, so long as it was before or after the inn's guests had retired. The room itself was barely recognizable as a bathroom, by modern standards. It consisted of a few tubs and some buckets of water that Rod had drawn from the inn's well sometime prior.

Feeling the water cleanse his body of all the sweat that had caked onto his skin was bliss. The soap Rod had available certainly didn't smell like those nice, scented soaps of Earth, but it served its purpose. Jacob didn't smell bad at all by the end of the experience.

When Jacob picked up his clothes, he sniffed them. They were beginning to smell, but there was nothing to be done. If push came to shove, he supposed he could wash them in the tub when he came to bathe next time.

Hearing the guests beginning to shuffle about in their rooms, Jacob hustled down to the kitchen to fulfill his duties. The preparatory work didn't take long; Jacob's skills had improved by leaps and bounds compared to even two days ago. The knife he used no longer felt so unfamiliar in his hands.

Rod entered the kitchen, nodding with satisfaction at Jacob's work. "Good job, kid. If you're done with that, help me with cooking those vegetables," the old man said. Jacob grimaced, for he had next to no clue about cooking a packet of ramen, much less vegetables.

"I don't know how to do that, Rod. Can I watch you, today?" Jacob asked, hoping the innkeeper would allow him this small mercy. Lady Luck smiled upon him because Rod was in a good mood.

"Sure. Just be ready to take on some more duties tomorrow."

The morning passed in a flash, Jacob concentrating on how long each vegetable needed to be cooked and how he could tell when they were done. Angelica popped in a couple of times, but she generally didn't stay long. As hectic as Jacob and the innkeeper were, Jacob figured Angelica must have been much, much busier.

When Jacob took his break, he confirmed that. Angelica was practically flying between tables, carrying plates empty and full along with her. The clientele in the main room seemed much the same as the night before; mainly battle-scarred mercenaries and soldiers in standardized armor. None of them seemed friendly, though Angelica managed to work with a smile in the dismal atmosphere.

Jacob's clothes drew a few stares from those who cared to notice him. He understood why. If he could figure out a way to make money, he'd have to buy a tunic and some more regular pants, at least by this town's standards. It wouldn't do to keep wearing the same raggedy hoodie for the rest of his stay at the inn. He'd ask Rod about it, later.

Angelica brought him his late breakfast, and later that day, his dinner. It was only at the latter meal, when he was one of the few remaining in the main room, that she sat down beside him.

"How was your first day?" she asked, peeking at the misshapen vegetables in Jacob's bowl.

"It's a work in progress."

"Really? I'd say it was a disaster in there. I'm not sure how Rod hasn't taken your head," she laughed. The criticism, though made in jest, made Jacob's face burn in embarrassment. The brunette girl noticed, stopping her giggles. "You'll figure it out eventually, I'm sure."

When Jacob didn't speak, the girl took it upon herself to carry the conversation. "Rod was telling me earlier about how you looked like someone from a circus in those clothes. Not that I've seen a circus, but I'll take his word for it," Angelica laughed again. This time, Jacob joined her. He really did look out of place in Leafburrow.

"Once I have some money, I'll buy some new ones. These clothes are pretty normal where I'm from, though," he admonished her teasingly.

"Where are you from?"

Now that was a question that Jacob didn't know how to answer.