START:THINKING
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Preamble
START:A BOOK is a tale of betrayal and treachery, with random releases of ~400-600 word chapters it keeps you on your toes with subverted expectations, alternative perspectives, and general craziness. While it may not be the most conventional medium for storytelling, I hope this new medium genuinely sparks your interest with its provocative way of writing.

Chapter 4
The lady at the front desk of the guild quickly changed her expression after noticing the adventurer accompanying her. Her face turned back to cheerful as swiftly as it angered. “ I see you have a new lady friend Spes. How may I help you today?”.

The adventurer’s face flushed red, a shocked and defensive look overtaking his nervousness. “I- It’s not what you think!” She shrivelled up into a corner at his outburst, afraid of more pain, more torment — her warriors pride all but gone. The adventurer notices her discomfort and pats her shoulder awkwardly, making her flinch once more.

The adventurer cleared his throat, turning his attention back to the receptionist “I just wanted to let you know that a second person will be staying in the room tonight”, the receptionist quickly acknowledging his words and writing something on a piece of paper, she doesn’t bother to try to figure out why, it doesn’t matter anymore.

The receptionist filed the papers away “You’re all good to go, just make sure to file the paperwork later if you plan to add her to your party”. He nods in acknowledgement and turns to her “Come along”, his voice is light and half hearted, yet commanding enough to make her wince slightly at the noise. She nods quickly, following him up the staircase at the back of the guild to the rooms.

He walked down the hall before stopping at the second to last door on the right hand side. The door creaking open as he motions for her to enter before him. She reluctantly entered, wincing as the he entered behind her and closes the door. She takes in the room, a small space, a bed, a small table with two chairs. Some bags shoved in a corner, and a faint stench of sweat staining the musty air.

He took off his armor and sword, stashing it in a loose pile at the foot of the bed, then abruptly collapsed onto the bed. Glancing over at her he motions for her to come over “Come over here, what’s your name?”. She cautiously makes her way over to the bed and weakly sits on the edge, trying to keep as much distance from the man as possible.

“Well?” he repeated “What’s your name?”. She stays silent for a moment then speaks timidly “Elica, my name is Elica”. He smiles slightly “Elica? That’s a nice name – I’m Spes”. She nods silently, not daring to speak without being asked a question.

He frowns slightly at her unwillingness for conversation. “Do you want to talk about your situation, or put it off till tomorrow?”. “I-” she hesitates, indecisive, hopeless, a lost cause. “I don’t really want to talk about it”. He nods, his voice gentle, oddly comforting despite her fear. “That’s okay, why don’t you lay down and get some rest?”.

She hesitantly lays down, close, too close to him. She shifts uncomfortably at the unfamiliar warmth of his body next to hers. She closes her eyes and tries to sleep, to find some sense of comfort. As she falls into sleep a final thought fills her mind – This is her life, this is her now.
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