After I finally found the gold piece—hidden in the shadows beneath the bed—a gentle sense of relief drifted into my chest like a warm morning breeze. I held it close for a moment, as if it were a tiny heart beating in the palm of my hand. It wasn't just a shiny object. It was a possibility—a chance that, in this new life, something might actually be worth selling... or relying on.
I didn't own much—almost nothing, really—except for this piece. And if it was real, it might just bring change. Maybe it would be the beginning I had always dreamed of... a beginning that would make me worry less about food, shelter, or even clothing.
I stared at it for a few seconds, then decided to hide it in a safe place. I opened the small cabinet in the room, tucked it in a corner behind a stack of folded clothes, and covered it with a dark cloth. I watched it for a few more moments before shutting the cabinet door tightly.
I went downstairs, where the scent of food drifted from the kitchen, filling the place with a simple warmth. I sat at my usual table and was served a bowl of hot soup and some bread. The food wasn't much different from what I'd grown used to.
After finishing the meal, I returned to the room, fatigue slowly creeping through my limbs like cold water. I lay down on the bed, my eyes still fixed on the cabinet, then slowly closed them.
---
I woke up the next morning to the sound of birds chirping outside the small window.
I washed my face, then opened the cabinet door and retrieved the gold piece. I held it in my hands for a moment, then slipped it into my inner pocket, making sure it was secure and couldn't fall out. After that, I left the inn and headed to work, just like any other day.
I arrived at the usual time and began lifting crates and organizing supplies, but my heart wasn't in the work today. It was with the gold piece hidden inside my jacket. I kept thinking: Is it real? Is it just a shiny fake meant to deceive hope? Or could it truly be the key to a new beginning?
When the chance came, I approached the employer as he was sorting through some rough papers and asked, trying to keep my voice calm:
"Sir... the day of the incident, when we rescued Marcus, you mentioned a mineral analysis lab that could determine whether a metal is real or fake... Do you know where that lab is?"
He lifted his head and looked me in the eye, silent for a moment, as if the words needed time to form before leaving his lips. Then he said quietly:
"After work today... come see me. We'll go together to the mineral analysis lab."
I nodded, my heart pounding.
That was my small hope.
...
My heart was racing, like a tense clock counting down the minutes, eagerly awaiting the moment work would end so I could go to the mineral lab. A strange feeling overwhelmed me—a mix of curiosity and anxiety, as if my entire future depended on the result of a single test.
With every passing minute, my tension grew. I couldn't focus on my tasks. At one point, I misplaced a crate, prompting one of my coworkers to point it out. I mumbled an apology and quickly turned away.
Finally, when the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky turned a soft orange, the employer announced the end of the workday. I walked up to him with steady steps, though my chest was full of nerves, and said:
"So... now, let's go to the mineral analysis lab."
He looked at me for a moment, then calmly replied:
"Wait a moment."
He turned and walked toward the large cart he used as a mobile office. I watched him open the door and disappear inside for a few minutes. I had no idea why he went in or what he was doing, but I didn't care much. My mind was too busy with thoughts—possibilities—all swirling around one question: Is the gold real?
At last, he stepped out of the cart, closed the door behind him, and said simply:
"Let's go."
We began walking together, and I followed close behind. The path wasn't long, but it was enough to make my heart beat like war drums. We passed through a narrow side street paved with dark stones, lit by small lanterns hanging from the clay walls of the homes. A few passersby glanced at us in passing, while the air carried the scent of damp earth and faint ash from a fire long extinguished.
After several minutes, we arrived.
The building housing the mineral analysis lab was different from the others around it. It was medium-sized, built from dark gray stone that glimmered slightly under the lanterns' glow, giving it an air of strictness and formality. Above the arched doorway hung a brass sign engraved in a local language I couldn't understand, but directly below it, in smaller writing, were the words: Mineral Analysis Lab. The windows were small and tightly sealed, as if whatever was inside wasn't meant to escape.
The employer pushed the door open and walked in, and I followed immediately.
Inside, the lab was even stranger than I had expected. The walls were lined with wooden shelves holding glass vials filled with colorful liquids—some boiling inside copper loops connected by fine wires. There were long tables covered in complex instruments, some emitting faint smoke, others glowing with dim lights. The air was unusually warm and thick with the scent of burnt metal mixed with chemical perfumes.
In the corner sat a thin man with round glasses and brown hair, scribbling something on a sheet of paper with deep concentration. He looked up when we entered, then gave the employer a small smile, the kind shared between people who've known each other for a long time.
I glanced at the employer, then at the gold piece in my pocket, and realized: the moment I had been dreading... had already begun.