Kael
The quest involved a sewer.
A real sewer.
Not metaphorical.
Not "slightly unpleasant underground tunnel."
A sewer.
With sewage.
And creatures.
And opinions.
The guild description had said:
Underground pest removal. Moderate difficulty. Bring torches.
It had not said:
the pests had lived there six years
the pests had formed a functioning society
that society hated visitors
someone would fall into the sewer twice
That someone was me.
Specifically twice.
We walked through Breth's market district at midday.
The sun was out.
The market was busy.
And we smelled like a disaster.
People were moving away from us.
Not subtly.
The crowd parted the way water parts around a floating corpse.
A child pointed.
"They smell."
"Yes," said the parent quickly.
"Why?"
The parent looked at us.
Then looked away.
"…Ask when you're older."
"How much older?"
"Very."
I sighed.
Rael glanced at me.
"Moderate difficulty," I said.
"That is what the notice said."
"Moderate."
"Yes."
"It did not say bring spare clothes."
"It did not."
"It did not say fall in the sewer twice."
"That was specifically you."
"The second time was not my fault."
"You slipped."
"Something slipped me."
"You slipped," she repeated calmly.
"Rael."
"Twice."
Senna walked beside me with her book under her arm.
Not writing.
Which meant she was talking.
"The central creature was directing the others," she said. "Their positioning indicates some form of emergent hierarchical—"
"I was in the sewer," I said.
"You were in the sewer twice."
"Senna."
"I am simply noting the timeline."
Mira walked on Rael's other side.
Clean.
Mostly clean.
Which meant she had made good decisions.
She did not say this.
She didn't need to.
Her existence was saying it.
A fruit merchant saw us coming.
He froze.
Then slowly picked up his entire display.
And moved it six feet away.
"Wow," I said.
"That's aggressive."
"We smell like the sewer," Rael said.
"We saved the neighborhood."
"We smell like the sewer."
"These are related achievements."
A passerby stopped.
"…What is that smell?"
I answered immediately.
"Poop."
The man recoiled.
"AAH—!"
He hurried away.
Rael made a noise.
Pfft—
She covered her mouth.
Senna rubbed her forehead.
"Please stop answering people."
"They asked."
"They did not want the truth."
"They should ask better questions."
Rael glanced at Senna.
The corner of her mouth twitched.
"If the guild paid hazard bonuses for smell," I said, "we would be rich."
"You would intentionally create smell hazards," Rael said.
"I would not."
"You would."
"I have dignity."
"You fell in the sewer twice."
"The second time—"
"Twice," Mira said quietly.
I pointed at her.
"You are supposed to be neutral."
She looked away.
Very small smile.
Rael lost control for exactly two seconds.
"Pfft—ha—"
Then she recovered.
I looked at all three of them.
"For the record," I said, "both times I fell in I was doing something tactically useful."
"You were screaming," Rael said.
"Tactically screaming."
A dog approached us.
It sniffed the air.
Paused.
Looked offended.
Turned around.
Left.
Even the dog.
I looked at the sky.
Veyra, I thought.
If you are watching this and laughing, I hope you know you are a terrible goddess.
Somewhere above Breth I felt spiritually certain the audience score had increased.
The guild became quieter when we walked in.
Then quieter.
Polla looked up.
Paused.
Then continued writing.
Professionalism is terrifying.
"Quest completion," I said.
"Full sewer extermination."
She read the report.
Stamped it.
"Payment will be transferred."
Then she looked up again.
"Haran."
Rael stopped.
"Mail arrived this morning."
She produced an envelope.
"Courier from eastern territory. Carent's Hold."
Rael took it.
Something shifted in her face.
Small.
But real.
She put the envelope in her jacket.
We left.
She said nothing.
Neither did I.
Rael
Carent's Hold.
I kept walking behind Kael, Senna, and Mira like nothing had happened.
Like the envelope in my jacket was not the first piece of mail from Haran territory in two years.
Carent's Hold was two hours from the main estate.
The letter was not from there.
My father had made that clear.
No contact.
The registry crossed.
The crest crossed.
The chapter closed.
So it was not from him.
I reached the room.
Closed the door.
Sat on the bed.
Took the envelope out.
The handwriting was familiar.
Rael Haran.
My full name.
Before the cross.
I opened it.
Rael.
You will probably burn this letter before finishing it.
Please don't.
I spilled ink twice writing it.
The second time ruined my good sleeve.
I almost smiled.
Klaus.
The letter continued.
Come back.
I stopped reading.
Looked at the wall.
Then continued.
He wrote about the morning runs.
About the bread I used to steal.
About how the training field still felt wrong without me there.
Then—
I heard what happened.
I knew it was wrong.
I should have said something.
I didn't.
I'm sorry.
My eyes blurred.
I folded the letter carefully.
Smaller.
Then smaller.
Until it fit in my palm.
I did not burn it.
I slid it under my pillow.
"Rael."
Kael's voice outside the door.
"Lunch is ready."
Pause.
"Mira cooked."
Another pause.
"So statistically speaking, it shouldn't smell like poop."
I almost laughed.
"Coming."
Kael
She opened the door quickly.
That was the first thing I noticed.
Rael normally moves with deliberate calm.
Today she moved faster.
I was sitting in the hallway with two cups.
She looked at them.
Then at me.
I held one out.
She took it.
We sat against the wall.
Not close.
Just close enough.
We drank quietly.
After a moment she said,
"What did Mira make?"
"No idea."
"It smells good."
"Which means it definitely isn't sewer food."
"That is promising."
"Extremely."
We finished the cups.
Went downstairs.
Mira had made something with vegetables and herbs.
It tasted like survival.
Senna glanced at Rael once.
Then returned to eating.
No questions.
Rael sat down.
Started eating.
Like nothing had happened.
But upstairs—
Under her pillow—
A folded rectangle of paper waited in the dark.
She had not burned it.
I had noticed.
I said nothing.
Some things are not questions.
Some things are waiting.
So I ate my lunch.
And pretended the food was the most important thing happening in the room.
Outside the window Breth continued its afternoon.
The letter stayed where it was.