Coran reached the town soon after that, with not much on their mind, despite what had just happened. They were cold (should probably try to find warmer garments while they're traveling in Ferox), hungry (hadn't eaten since breakfast), and tired (from walking all day). The sun had recently set, and Coran felt like ice. With the money they had left from Julius, they got a room at the inn, planning on solving their issues in the morning.

When morning came, Coran rose from the bed, strapping Julius's old staff to their back and carrying their mother's Lightning tome in a satchel along with their coin purse. They set off to buy a new set of clothes, along with a warm cloak, before finding somewhere to eat breakfast. After doing so, they realized that their bag felt much lighter, and they would have to find a way to make money soon. Distracted by their thoughts, they almost ran into an old woman who was window shopping at a textile vendor. They smiled in apology before moving on, wandering about town. How had Julius made money for the two of them? He'd helped people around wherever they were staying, hadn't he? Perhaps Coran could do the same.

"S'il vous plait, monsieur, you must help, Maman is very sick!" There was a small girl in rags pleading with an older man, likely a rich doctor from the looks of it. Coran stopped to watch.

"I've already told you that if you can't pay, there'll no help for you. Be on your way." He waved her off, continuing on his walk, and the little girl balled her small hands into tiny fists.

"I hate all of you rich docteurs!" She shouted, but nobody seemed to be paying her any mind save for Coran.

"Excuse m-me, where does your m-maman live?" The girl squeaked when she heard Coran's voice. She turned and looked at their clothes in distrust, likely because they were new, and clean. "I j-just want to help. That m-man is c-cruel for turning you away." She sniffed.

"They're all like that. Maman and I don't have money to pay les docteurs parse-que we just moved from Rossane. B-but Maman is sick because we don't have money! And I can't find work to help her!" The girl clung to Coran's robes, and they knelt down to hug her.

"I don't need m-money, I just want to h-help you." They picked her up, not wanting her dirty, bare feet to stay in the snow. She was probably getting sick the longer they stood out there. "Why don't you t-tell me where your h-house is? I'll s-see how I can h-help." The young girl sniffled and nodded, telling them which streets to go down.

The two of them arrived at the house, though Coran could barely call it such. It was tiny wooden shack with more than a few drafty holes. The door was rotting away, and when they walked inside, they saw that the floor wasn't really a floor, it was just the dirt that hid under the many layers of snow outside. When the young girl jumped down from their arms and ran to her mother, Coran's eyes widened in horror.

"Maman? Maman, réveillez-vous!" She shook the woman. "Maman, I brought un docteur!" The dead woman's head lolled as her daughter shook her body. Coran slowly walked closer to the girl, taking her hand and pulling her away.

"W-what are you doing?" She asked them. Coran swallowed the lump in their throat.

"I-I'm s-sorry."

"You said you would help her!" She shouted, and Coran picked her up again, backing away from the body. "You lied to me, you said you would help Maman! Put me down, pose-moi par terre!" She struggled in their arms, but Coran kept a tight hold on her.

"I-I can't h-help, I..." They left the house, quickly walking away. "N-nobody can h-help her now except the g-gods."

"What's wrong with Maman?" Her lip trembled, Coran realized with dread that she couldn't have been older than three years.

"Sh-she's not... She's not going to w-wake up. Never again."

They were quiet, and the girl seemed to understand their implications, because at that point she hid her face and cried, eventually crying herself to sleep. Coran put her in their room at the inn, tucking her into bed before setting off to find her a pair of shoes, and some new clothes (or at the very least a new cloak). They returned as soon as they could, and saw that the girl was still asleep. Sighing, they set the shoes and cloak by the bed, leaving again to find her something to eat. When they returned again, she still hadn't awakened, so they spent their time reading until she did.

"Mmm..." They heard a small groan from the bed, and looked over to see the girl waking up.

"Hello." They greeted, softly closing their book. "Are you h-hungry?" She nodded, seeming to notice the tray on the bedside table.

"... C'est pour moi?" Coran thought for a moment before nodding.

"Y-yes, I got it f-for you." She started eating. "D-don't swallow too fast, you m-might ch-choke."

"Désolée." She mumbled, eating slowly.

"..." Coran really needed to brush up on their foreign languages. "What's your n-name?" They asked after she finished eating.

"Euh, Adélaïse." She shivered. "Et toi?"

"M-my name is Coran."

"Corrine?"

"N-no, just Coran."

"Coran."

"Yes." Adélaïse yawned, and Coran kept speaking. "We're g-going to have to f-find you a new h-home."

"Oh... Je ne sais..." She shook her head. "I don't know if I can..."

"You c-can't stay all by y-yourself." They frowned, then an idea came to them.

"Would you l-like to live with my m-mother?" Adélaïse thought for a moment.

"Oui!"

Word Count: 962

In which Coran isn't completely prepared to help people out, but they try their best.

Oh hey... this still exists...

Next time: Coran winds up at their mother's house again.