The building was larger than I had imagined.
Two stories, solid stone walls, and a large wooden sign above the entrance that read "Ulbert Hunter Guild" in letters slightly faded by time. From outside alone, I could hear the noise within, a mix of loud conversations, laughter, and the occasional clang of metal from somewhere I could not identify.
I stood in front of the door and watched the people coming and going.
A heavily built man with a scar running across his face walked out carrying an axe larger than my head. Behind him, a short woman radiating a fairly strong mana aura carried a staff nearly as tall as she was. Two archers strolled in laughing, their light armor still caked with dirt and something I was better off not asking about.
I drew a breath.
It was not them that made me nervous. Not the large men who looked as though they could crush stone with their bare hands. Not the armed women who stared straight ahead with eyes long accustomed to the sight of death.
What made me nervous was one simple question.
Would I find work here?
But I had to stay calm. If I was not accepted at this place, there were other jobs. A server at a restaurant. A housekeeper for a noble family. A shopkeeper. Anything. This world would not run out of work simply because one place turned me away.
Regardless, today I had to find a job.
I had to be able to stand on my own, at the very least.
With that thought, I stepped inside.
The interior of the guild was noisier than it had sounded from outside. The main room on the first floor was spacious and open, with long wooden tables where hunters sat in groups, eating, drinking, or discussing missions. A large board on the left wall was covered in pinned papers, each containing the details of an available mission. Several hunters stood before the board, pulling off mission sheets and carrying them to the long counter at the front of the room.
The reception desk.
Behind the long wooden counter that separated the hunter area from the administrative section, a woman sat with a tidy posture. Her hair was honey brown, tied low at the back of her head. Her face was friendly yet firm, the kind of face that said "I can smile at you, but do not try my patience." She appeared to be a few years older than me. In front of her sat stacks of documents, a pen, and a stamp she wielded with a speed that showed she had done this thousands of times before.
She was attending to a large hunter who looked confused by the form in his hands.
"No," the woman said with a patience that was clearly trained, "this column is for the type of monster you defeated. Not for writing your girlfriend's name."
The hunter scratched his head sheepishly. "Sorry, Mira."
"It is fine. This is the third time this week. I am beginning to consider printing a special form for you with illustrated instructions."
The hunter laughed awkwardly, filled out his form again, then left at a pace slightly quicker than normal.
The woman named Mira let out a small sigh, tidied the documents on her desk, then looked up. Her eyes met mine at once.
For a moment, her gaze swept over my appearance from top to bottom. Not a judgmental look. More of a professional assessment. Neat clothing, but not combat gear. No weapon. No staff. A physique that clearly did not belong to a fighter.
"Welcome to the Ulbert Hunter Guild," she said, a professional smile immediately in place. "How can I help you?"
I stepped closer to the reception desk. My heart was beating a little harder than usual, but I forced my voice to remain steady.
"I would like to ask," I said, "whether there are any job openings here."
Mira raised one eyebrow. "As a hunter?"
"No," I replied. "An administrative position."
Both of Mira's eyebrows rose now. A fair reaction. Most people who came to a guild wanted to become hunters, not sit behind a desk managing paperwork.
"Administrative," she repeated, as though making sure she had not misheard. Then she leaned back in her chair and studied me more carefully. "May I know your name?"
"Veralyn," I answered. I paused for a moment, considering whether I should give my family name. The name Silvercrown could open doors, but it could also slam them shut even harder. "Just Veralyn."
Mira did not seem bothered by the absence of a family name. She reached for a notebook from beneath her desk and opened it.
"As it happens," she said, flipping through the pages, "we are indeed short on administrative staff. Two people resigned last month. One moved to another city, and the other decided to become an adventurer after getting drunk and signing a mission contract without reading it."
She looked up from the book and met my eyes.
"But before anything else, I need to ask a few things. Can you read and write?"
"Yes."
"Arithmetic?"
"Yes."
"Do you understand the mission classification system? Difficulty levels, rank requirements, reward distribution?"
"I can learn."
"Have you ever dealt with official documents? Reports, contracts, permits?"
"I studied royal law and territorial governance at the Royal Magic Academy."
The movement of Mira's writing hand suddenly stopped.
She raised her face slowly. Her expression changed. No longer a professional assessment, but something closer to genuine interest.
"The Royal Magic Academy," she repeated. "You graduated from there?"
I nodded.
Mira set down her pen and leaned back in her chair. Her eyes narrowed slightly, not with suspicion but with curiosity.
"A graduate of the Royal Magic Academy walks into a guild and asks for an administrative job," she said quietly, more to herself than to me. "That is a first in the five years I have worked here."
I did not respond. I did not know what to say.
Mira looked at me for several seconds, then suddenly smiled. Not the professional smile from before. A more genuine one, the kind of smile someone wore when they had just found something interesting on a day that was supposed to be dull.
"You know," she said, "usually the people who come here to apply cannot even spell their own names correctly. Last week, a man wrote his name differently on three pages of the same form."
I did not know how to react, so I simply stayed quiet.
"And now a graduate of the most prestigious magic academy on the continent walks in and says she knows royal law and territorial governance." Mira shook her head with a small laugh. "I think this is my lucky day."
She took a sheet of paper from the stack beside her desk and placed it before me along with a pen.
"Fill this out," she said. "Name, abilities, experience. It does not need to be overly detailed, just the essentials."
I picked up the pen and began to write. My hand trembled slightly on the first letter, but gradually steadied as the words flowed across the paper.
While I was filling in the abilities section, Mira spoke again.
"Oh right, I have not introduced myself," she said. "My name is Mira Calloway. I am the head receptionist at this guild. If you are accepted, you will be working under my supervision."
She extended her hand.
I looked at that hand for a moment.
A hand offered without hesitation. Without conditions. Without a judging gaze. Just an ordinary handshake between two people who might be working together.
Something that simple should not have made me feel anything.
And yet, there was something warm in my chest as I reached out and shook her hand.
"Veralyn," I said. "Pleased to meet you."
Mira smiled broadly. "Pleased to meet you too, Veralyn. And one piece of advice from me."
"What?"
"Do not be so stiff," she said, winking. "We work hard here, but we also laugh. If you keep wearing that expression, the hunters will think you are some high-ranking official on an inspection."
I looked at her.
Then, for the first time in a place that was not Raymond's house, the corner of my lips rose slightly.
"I will try," I answered.
Mira slapped the desk with satisfaction. "There, that is already better. Finish the form, and then I will show you around. You need to know where the archives are, the meeting room, and most importantly," she lowered her voice dramatically, "where we keep the tea."
I looked back down at the form, hiding a small smile that I could not seem to hold back.
Perhaps this job would not be as bad as I had imagined.
By the time I arrived at the city park, the sun had already begun to lean westward.
The park was more beautiful than I remembered. Perhaps because the last time I had passed through it, I was too busy walking briskly toward the academy library to notice anything besides the road in front of my feet. Now, without a schedule chasing me, I could finally see it properly.
A large stone fountain stood at the center of the park, its water flowing with a soothing sound. Wooden benches were scattered along pathways lined with leafy trees. A few children chased each other around the fountain, their laughter bouncing among the branches. Couples sat side by side on benches, enjoying the warm afternoon.
A peaceful place.
I swept my gaze around, searching for the figure I knew.
And I found him.
Raymond sat on a bench beneath a large tree, slightly apart from the crowd. His legs were crossed casually, and in his hand was a cup. Coffee, most likely. This man and his coffee were truly inseparable.
He had not yet noticed me.
For a moment, I stood at a distance and watched him. The golden afternoon light filtered through gaps in the leaves and fell across his shoulders, creating patterns of light and shadow that shifted slowly as the wind swayed the branches above him. His face looked calm, gazing at the fountain in the distance with an expression I could not read.
Was he always like this when he was alone? At ease without needing to wear the serious face he usually showed? Or had that serious face already become so much a part of him that he himself no longer knew the difference?
I shook my head slightly and began walking closer.
Raymond turned when he heard my footsteps. His calm expression did not change, but he raised his cup slightly as a greeting.
"All done?" he asked.
"Yes," I answered, sitting on the bench beside him. A reasonable distance. Not too close. Not too far.
"How did it go?"
The question was asked in a light tone, without pressure. As though whatever answer I gave would not change his attitude.
I was quiet for a moment, considering whether I should tell him. He had once suggested an administrative job at the guild. If I told him I had gone there and registered, he might think I had finally taken his advice. And for some reason, admitting that felt slightly...
No. This was not about ego. It was about honesty.
"I went to the guild," I said.
Raymond did not overreact. He simply sipped his coffee.
"As a hunter?" he asked, his tone far too calm not to be suspicious.
"Administrative," I replied.
I could see something shift in his eyes. Very faintly. Almost imperceptibly. But after a week of living with this man, I had begun to recognize the small expressions hidden behind his serious face.
That was relief.
He was relieved.
"They happen to be short on staff," I continued. "The head receptionist said I can start tomorrow."
"That quickly?"
"They seemed quite impressed when I mentioned that I had studied royal law."
Raymond raised one eyebrow. "Impressed?"
"The head receptionist said it was the first time in five years that an applicant could read the form without asking for help."
Raymond went quiet for a moment. Then I heard something. Very soft. Barely audible. Like someone speaking to themselves without realizing it.
"...This world really does need schools for everyone."
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing," he replied quickly, sipping his coffee.
The corner of his lips moved slightly. Very slightly. But I caught it.
"The guild needs competent people," he said. "You will do well there."
He did not say "I told you so." He did not say "you should have listened to me from the start." Just a simple statement that sounded more like support than victory.
This man truly made no sense.
We sat in silence for a while. The sound of the fountain filled the space between us, along with the laughter of children still running about and the faint murmur of conversations from couples on other benches.
An evening breeze drifted past, carrying the scent of flowers from the bushes planted along the pathway. My hair swayed gently, and I tucked a few strands behind my ear without thinking.
"Raymond," I said suddenly.
"Hm?"
"Thank you."
He turned toward me.
"For what?"
For everything. For that night. For this house. For the clothes in my wardrobe. For the coins in my pocket. For eating my cooking every morning without complaint. For the small mirror you placed in my room without saying a word. For a freedom I never asked for but you gave anyway.
But all of that was too much to say at once. And I was not the kind of person who was good at stringing together gentle words.
So what came out of my mouth was simply:
"For today."
Raymond looked at me for two seconds, then turned his gaze back to the fountain.
"You are welcome," he replied softly.
The sun continued its descent behind the rooftops of the capital. The afternoon light gradually gave way to dusk, painting the sky in gradients of orange and purple that reflected on the surface of the fountain.
"We should head home," Raymond said, standing from the bench. "Before it gets dark."
I nodded and stood as well.
We walked side by side away from the park, toward the carriage stop near the southern gate. Our steps were unhurried. The quieting streets of the late afternoon felt different from the morning bustle. Calmer. Slower. As though the city itself was preparing to rest.
Along the way, I silently thought about tomorrow.
My first job. My first paycheck. My first step toward the independence that until now had only been words inside my head.
And for some reason, thinking about it no longer felt frightening.