Days had passed since Elijah’s funeral. Coin spent much of that time sequestered in the old man’s library, quietly browsing through some of the old tomes Elijah had collected over the years. Many of them were textbooks on commerce and the merchant’s trade, detailing the names and exploits of many famous traders.

  Occasionally, when checking through these tomes, he would come across some old earmarked notebooks that Elijah had penned by his own hand, containing details of his own past trades. The records went back a considerable amount of time.

  It was, in a way, a chance for Coin to remember the man. He read Elijah’s words in his own voice, pretending that he was still by his side.

  Eventually he found an empty notebook and became pencilling in his own notes as he read through the old tomes. He had little ambition for much of anything, beyond learning more about how Elijah had lived his life. And learning the even more about the merchant trade, as Elijah had wanted to do for him, seemed a good way to kill time.

  The door creaked open as Coin was busy leafing through one particularly dense book (Kalcifur Kohnn’s ‘The Art of the Trade’) when the door to the study was silently pushed open. He only barely peered up from his notebook as Leonid entered, wheeling some food into the room.

  “Lunchtime, Master Coin!” he cheerily said. “It’s high noon, after all.”

  “Mm,” Coin replied, returning his focus to his notes. He was just in the process of reading a fascinating anecdote about a fraudulent copper salesman when the slim elf entered. This was what was considered exciting when it came to economic history.

  The tray halted just to the side of Coin’s desk, sporting a plate of gravy-soaked roast meat, framed on one side by a wall of slowly sinking mashed potatoes. “Just figured it would be prudent to get you lunch. And to make sure you hadn’t... er, died in here yet,” Leonid said.

  “I’m fine, Leonid, truly,” Coin replied, continuing to scan his eyes over lines of text. “How is Domajor doing?”

  “He’ll be back tomorrow, rested and recovered. I can’t recall the last time Master Domajor took time off. But, then again, I can’t recall the last time anyone tried to kill us.”

  Coin grimaced. “Yeah. Not a great day,” he said. “But I’m still glad you’re all okay.” He had taken the time to hire a wizard to enchant the locks on the entrances and windows to the manor, something that would ward off any attempts to pick them. He also wanted Domajor to hire a few guards to watch the ground. He had a feeling the man had a keen eye for trustworthy and capable guards.

  “Of course, of course.” Leonid forced a smile, his eyes darting between Coin’s notebook and the tray of his food. “You really should eat more, ser,” he said.

  “I... appreciate the gesture. But I’m not that hungry.” He had to will his stomach to not rumble.

  “What are you doing? If you don’t mind me asking.”

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  “Studying, I suppose. Learning all I can about the merchant trade. All the things Elijah wanted to teach me.” It was the only thing he could really think to do with his time now.

  Leonid nodded slowly. “If I may, ser, I don’t think Master Elijah would have wanted you to live your life like this,” he said, tucking his hands behind his back. “Locking yourself away, pouring over his books, ignoring the world outside... Do you know how rarely we saw Master Elijah around here? He spent much of any given year on the road, for he loved to travel and see the world.”

  “Yeah,” Coin admitted, slowly lifting his eyes from the books before him. He thought back on the days they spent travelling together. It may not have always been safe, but it was always eventful. And having spent so much of his life trapped underground, and never knowing better until his evolution, he had never felt so alive until he started to travel with the old man.

  There was a wide world out there, and he’d only barely skimmed the surface of it. And now, here he was, shutting himself away from it again. He sighed. “It’s hard. I don’t even know what to do now.”

  “You were training to be a merchant, were you not?” Leonid tilted his head. “I see no reason why you should give that up. Granted you hardly need money, the sum you gained from Master Elijah will likely support you for a lifetime. But it was never really about the money for our former master, was it?”

  “No. I suppose it wasn’t.” And Coin did still love money, deep down. He doubted anything could kill his love for his namesake. Yet it felt less important to him nowadays. He turned and took up the fork Leonid had left for him. “Becoming a merchant again. Yeah, it does sound nice.” But he didn’t want to just pick up where he left off, travelling with just a wagon. It just wouldn’t be the same. And, frankly, he wanted more out of the experience.

  But what?

  He ate slowly, chewing on mouthfuls of mashed potatoes sodden with gravy. He swallowed and glanced to Leonid. “Thanks, Leonid. You’ve given me something to think about.”

  “I live to serve.” The elf smiled, bowed, and hastily made his way out.

  Coin ate in silence, accompanies solely by the ticking of the ornate clock on the wall, but inwardly his brain was abuzz with thoughts and ideas. Of what he wanted to do with his life, of what he could conceivably do with his inherited wealth... and how he would do it.

  By the time he finished eating, a few thoughts had started to ferment above all others. He fished an empty notebook from his pile and got to writing.

  His literacy had grown entirely functional by the time Elijah left this mortal coil, even if he had had little time or desire to practice since his death. While his handwriting was as aesthetically pleasing as a baboon's rear, it was entirely functional.

  Come sundown, Essine knocked and entered the room. She had been given a wardrobe of robes and dresses, finely tailored compared to the rags she was used to. And while she looked very different on the outside, her awkward posture was the same as ever.

  “Coin?” she asked, padding deeper inside.

  She found him vigorously taking notes in his chosen booklets, both pages before him covered in tightly written paragraphs and small sums of numbers in the margins. “Hey, Essine,” he said, sopping his scribbling to meet her eyes. He managed a smile.

  “Are you well?” she asked.

  “I’m... not as bad,” Coin admitted. The feeling of loss still burned in his breast, but it wasn’t quite as crushing anymore.

  Essine gave him a knowing nod. “I have known much loss in life, Coin.” What kobold hadn’t, she asked herself. “The sensation of loss never truly leaves. The presence of a person in your life is replaced with their absence, and that absence is like a weight upon your heart. Yet the weight lessens, in time.”

  He offered her a sad smile. “That’s a lot to carry.” How did people manage, when so many of their relationships were destined to end in such a way? Yet, people did manage. Every single one of them. A thought that fascinated Coin, until he wrestled his thoughts elsewhere.

  “Yes, it is.” Essine nodded again. “But you are strong. You can overcome much.” She made her way around to his side, tucking her hands behind her back. “But, for now, let us not dwell on such things. What, er, are you working on? It seems rather involved.”

  “Thinking about the future, I suppose,” Coin said. “I know I can’t just sit around here for the rest of my life. It’s not what Elijah would want, and it’s not what I want either.”

  “Right.” Essine pulled up a chair beside him, her hands folded in her lap. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Well...” Coin glanced to the row of numbers scribbled into the book before him. “I want to put the money I’ve been given to good use. To do something that Elijah would be proud of. And so, after giving it some thought, I want to make my own mercantile company.”