Morning light spilled across the living room floorboards, catching the dust kicked up by Mira's frantic pacing.
Ravon stood near the door, the heavy leather straps of his traveler's bag digging into his shoulders. Mira stood in front of him, her hands darting out to straighten his collar, then smoothing the wrinkles from his shirt.
"Did you pack the spare shirts?" she asked, her voice tight with worry. "The water flask? The healing potions I brewed last night? The heavy wool blanket, the dried meat—"
"Mira," Darius interrupted gently. He stepped out from the kitchen, a fond, tired smile on his scarred face. "It's time to let him go, or he's going to be carrying the entire house on his back."
Mira stopped. She dropped her hands, letting out a long, shaky breath.
Darius walked over, his dark eyes scanning the boy. "Where is the sword?"
Ravon patted his hip. The dark wire-wrapped hilt rested securely in its worn leather scabbard, tied firmly to his belt.
Nodding in approval, Darius reached into his vest and pulled out a thick, wax-sealed envelope. "This is a letter of introduction. When you reach the Adventurer's Guild, give it directly to the receptionist."
Before Ravon could tuck the letter away, a small weight crashed into his knees. Lila hugged his leg, looking up at him with wide, curious eyes. "Where is Ray-Ray going?"
Ravon knelt, placing a hand on her soft hair. "I'm going to beat the bad guys."
"When will Ray-Ray come back?"
"Soon," he promised, his throat tightening. "I'll return soon."
Outside, the heavy snort of a draft horse broke the quiet morning. Darius opened the front door. "Let's go. The cart is waiting."
Minutes later, Ravon sat in the back of the wooden merchant cart, his legs dangling over the edge. As the wheels groaned and began to roll down the dirt path, he looked back at the house. Darius stood tall, an immovable anchor, with Lila sitting on his broad shoulders.
Beside them, Mira waved her hand. Her chin trembled, and tears finally spilled over her lower lashes, tracking silently down her cheeks. But she didn't sob. She kept waving, forcing a beautiful, brave smile until the cart turned the bend and the forest swallowed them whole.
The moment the house vanished from sight, a sudden, suffocating quiet pressed against Ravon's chest. The wooden slats rattled beneath him, and the draft horse stomped against the dirt, but the silence still felt heavier than anything. He stared at the rutted road rolling away from him. For four years, that wooden house had been his entire universe. Now, the physical distance was stretching, tearing at the comfortable warmth he had grown so used to. He was completely on his own.
Three other passengers sat in the back of the cart with him. They wore the worn leather armor and scuffed boots of active adventurers. Pulling his knees up slightly, Ravon listened to their banter to distract himself from the ache in his chest.
"I was a second away from being cleaved in half by that Orc Lord," the young man in a rough green shirt laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "If Jack hadn't parried that axe, I'd be dead."
A tomboyish girl with short, messy hair and the worn confidence of a seasoned fighter kicked the healer's boot. "Jack really comes in clutch. You should step down, Vain. Let Jack be the captain."
"You guys need to stop overestimating me," Jack replied, shaking his head. "Vain is a good captain. He has actual offensive skills. I can only heal a little and parry."
"Are you kidding?" the girl teased. She turned her head, noticing the quiet boy sitting in the corner. "Where are you heading, kid?"
"I'm going to Arkenfall," Ravon answered simply. "To join the guild."
Vain, the captain in the green shirt, cleared his throat. "I'm Vain. This is Jack, and the loud one with no manners is Beck. She always forgets to introduce herself. What's your name, boy?"
"Ravon."
Vain frowned, tapping his chin. "I've heard that name somewhere. Anyway, you said you wanted to join the guild. Which one?"
Ravon blinked. "Which one? I thought there was only one."
"There are three," Vain explained, holding up his fingers. "The Hunter Guild manages monster subjugation and escort quests. The Gatherer Guild handles finding rare herbs, tracking targets, and information gathering."
"And the Merchant Guild," Beck interrupted, rolling her eyes, "which is just a bunch of fat noblemen sitting on gold coins pretending to be adventurers. Never join them. They'd charge you a copper just to breathe their air."
Ravon processed the information. "Which guild manages missing person quests?"
"That's Gatherer work," Vain said, tilting his head. "Why? Did you lose someone?"
"I'm looking for my parents. I lost them four years ago."
Vain's eyes went wide. He snapped his fingers. "Four years ago... wait. You're that Ravon? The boy whose missing person request has been pinned to the Hunter Guild board for four straight years?"
"Yes," Ravon nodded. "But why is it in the Hunter Guild? You just said missing persons are for the Gatherers."
"Because there isn't a Gatherer Guild in Arkenfall," Beck chimed in. "We only have a Hunter branch and a Merchant branch."
"Where is the Gatherer Guild? I want to join that one."
"They're rare," Jack answered. "The closest one is in Xyeafort City. But you can't join them until you're fifteen."
"I'm only ten."
Beck sighed, leaning back against the wooden slats. "Too bad, boy. You'll have to wait five years for Xyeafort. Right now, your only option is the Hunter Guild. But getting in isn't easy. You have to pass the combat test—unless you have a letter of introduction from a high-ranking adventurer. Then you skip the exam."
Ravon reached into his pocket and pulled out the wax-sealed envelope. "Like this?"
Beck leaned forward, squinting at the seal. "Is that an introduction letter?"
"Yes. Darius gave it to me."
The three adventurers froze. The casual atmosphere in the cart vanished instantly.
"Impossible!" they shouted in unison.
"How did you get a letter from Darius?" Beck demanded, her eyes wide with shock. "He is the main examiner for Arkenfall! Landing a single hit on him during the test is basically impossible for a kid."
"I live with him and Mira," Ravon said defensively. "I fought him yesterday. He said if I landed a hit, he'd let me join."
Vain stared at the boy as if he had grown a second head. "You hit Darius? I couldn't even touch him if he used his full power. I seriously underestimated you."
"How powerful is he?" Ravon asked. Darius had always been strong, but Ravon had never seen him fight anything scarier than the training dummy or a forest boar.
"He is the strongest A-ranker in our entire branch," Jack said with absolute reverence. "If he actually cared about the title, he could have easily promoted to S-rank. But he and Mira officially retired last year."
"What about Mira?"
"She is our queen," Beck said, her voice softening into deep respect. She tapped her left shoulder. "When I was a rookie, a stray monster tore my left arm completely off. I thought my life was over. Mira regenerated it from nothing using her advanced magic. She was an A-rank healer, a core member of the Sun Clan."
A surge of intense pride swelled in Ravon's chest. They really are amazing.
"East Gate of Arkenfall!" the coachman shouted from the front.
The cart rolled to a slow halt. Ravon grabbed his bag and hopped down onto the dirt road. The sheer scale of the city walls loomed over him, built from colossal, reinforced stone. A long line of travelers and merchants snaked toward the entrance, where heavily armed guards checked papers.
"Show your letter to the guards," Vain advised from the cart. "Then follow the main road right. It leads straight to the guild. We have a client waiting, so we can't walk you there."
"Thank you," Ravon said, waving as the cart pulled away.
He took his place in the line. When he finally reached the front, the guard took one look at the wax seal on the envelope, his posture straightening immediately. Without a word, he stepped aside and waved Ravon through the heavy iron gates.
Arkenfall was entirely different from the quiet timber of the Beast Forest. A wide, immaculately clean road paved with yellow bricks stretched through the city. Uniform stone houses and bustling storefronts lined the streets. The air smelled of baked bread, metalworking, and hundreds of people.
Following Vain's directions, Ravon navigated the crowds until an imposing stone building came into view. The symbol of crossed swords and a shield hung proudly above the heavy oak doors.
He pushed his way inside. The guild hall was a chaotic, loud cavern. Round wooden tables filled the room, packed with adventurers drinking, boasting, and comparing bounties. Ravon wove through the armored bodies, heading straight for the long wooden counter at the back.
A young blonde woman in a crisp guild uniform stood behind the desk. She looked down at him with kind brown eyes. "Hello. I'm Merry. How can I help you?"
"I'm Ravon. I want to join the guild."
Merry pulled a wooden tablet from beneath the counter, sliding a blank parchment form toward him. "This is the registration form. You will need to take a combat test with our examiner. If you pass, you will receive your rank tomorrow. If you fail, you can try again next year."
"I have a letter of introduction," Ravon said, sliding the envelope across the counter.
Merry paused. She took the letter, her eyes catching the distinct wax seal. "In that case, you don't need a test. Please wait here. I will deliver this to the Guildmaster."
She hurried up a flight of wooden stairs. A few minutes later, she returned, her professional smile firmly in place. "The Guildmaster is waiting for you in his office. First floor, the door at the end of the hall."
Ravon walked up the stairs, the heavy thud of his boots masked by the noise of the tavern below. He stopped at the final door and knocked twice.
"Come in," a tired, familiar voice answered.
Ravon pushed the door open. The office was cluttered with stacks of paperwork and bounties. Sitting heavily on a plush sofa, rubbing his temples with one hand and holding the letter in the other, was a man Ravon hadn't seen in years.
"Poly?" Ravon asked, his red eyes widening.
Eve's husband looked up. The sharp-featured man offered a weary smile. "It has been a while, Ravon. Come, sit."
Ravon dropped his bag and took the opposite sofa. "You're the Guildmaster?"
"Since last year, yes," Poly sighed, gesturing to the mountains of paperwork. "The previous Guildmaster, along with Darius, Mira, and Eve, all decided to retire at the exact same time. The board pushed the job onto me."
"Where is Eve?"
"Here in the city. We bought a house near the cathedral." Poly leaned forward, tapping the letter. "As for your registration, Darius wrote that you already passed his combat test yesterday. He officially assigned you a D-rank."
"Only a D-rank?" Ravon frowned. "I thought... beating him would get me a C-rank at least."
"Everyone starts at E-rank, Ravon. Giving a rookie D-rank on their first day is incredibly rare," Poly explained. "However, I am giving you D-rank with C-rank privileges."
"What does that mean?"
"It means you are legally allowed to accept C-rank bounties, even though your badge says D. I'm giving you this privilege because our branch is suffering a severe shortage of adventurers. We have very few A-ranks and B-ranks left active."
Ravon leaned forward. "Are there any S-ranks I can meet?"
Poly's expression darkened slightly. "No. There are no S-ranks here. Whenever someone reaches that tier, they tend to disappear mysteriously. And when they finally return, they make vague excuses and refuse to talk about where they went." He waved a hand, dismissing the heavy topic. "But you don't need to stress about that. Climbing to S-rank takes years, if not decades. And you can always choose to stay an A-rank forever, just like Darius did."
"I'll remember that," Ravon nodded. He looked out the window; the sky was already turning a deep orange. "Where can I stay tonight?"
"There is an inn near the flower shop a few streets over," Poly suggested, standing up to return to his desk. "I have a mountain of approvals to get through, so we can talk more later. Come back tomorrow morning to get your official license. Try not to get lost in the dark."
The sun had completely set by the time Ravon stepped back out onto the yellow brick road. The temperature had plummeted, carrying the biting chill of the coming night.
As he walked the winding streets toward the florist shop, the reality of his independence finally set in, carrying a sharp, undeniable sting. Warm yellow light spilled from the windows of the stone houses. He could hear the muffled sounds of families talking and the faint clatter of dinner plates. It smelled just like Mira's kitchen.
A hollow loneliness settled over him. He stopped walking and tipped his head back, searching the dark canvas above for the single, brilliant star he had pointed out to Lila just one night ago. But the thick smoke from the city's chimneys and the bright glare of the street lanterns washed the sky completely blank. The stars were gone.
He lowered his head, pulling his collar tighter against the cold, and kept walking.
He found the inn nestled next to the closed florist shop. Pushing the heavy wooden door open, a small brass bell chimed brightly. The lobby was warm and smelled of roasted meat.
A woman behind the front desk looked up. "Welcome! I am Elizabeth. Do you need a room?"
"I'm Ravon. Yes, I need a place to stay."
"Perfect timing," Elizabeth smiled warmly. "Room number twelve just opened up. The rates are ten copper coins for a single night, one gold and one silver coin for a month, or twenty gold coins for a year."
Ravon did the math in his head. Before leaving, Darius had handed him a heavy leather pouch containing ten gold and ten silver coins. According to Darius's harsh lessons on currency, twelve copper made one silver, and twelve silver made one gold.
One month cost thirteen silver in total. He couldn't afford a whole year, but he had plenty for a month.
"I'll take the room for one month," Ravon said, placing the heavy coins onto the wooden counter.
Elizabeth scooped them up, her smile widening as she handed him an iron padlock key. As Ravon turned toward the stairs, she leaned over the counter, her voice dropping into a hushed, nervous whisper.
"A warning, boy. A witch is currently staying in room number thirteen. Make absolutely sure you do not disturb her, or she will curse you."
Ravon gripped the iron key tighter. "I won't."
He climbed the creaking wooden stairs to the first floor. The hallway was dimly lit by a single oil lamp. He stopped in front of the heavy oak door carved with the number twelve.
As he slid the key into the padlock, a strange, bubbling noise drifted through the thin wall separating his room from number thirteen. It sounded like a heavy iron cauldron boiling over, accompanied by the sharp scent of bitter herbs and ozone.
Too exhausted to care about curses, Ravon unlocked his door and stepped inside. The room was small but clean. He dropped his heavy traveler's bag beside the simple wooden bed and collapsed onto the mattress.
"Tomorrow, I get my license," he whispered to the empty room. "I'll do some quests, make a name for myself, find some allies... and then I'll find my parents."
Downstairs, the brass bell rang again, followed by Elizabeth's voice carrying up the stairwell. "Dinner is ready! Everyone, please come to the dining room!"
At the mention of food, Ravon's stomach let out a violent, demanding growl. He pushed himself off the bed, the loneliness and the grand plans for his future temporarily put on hold for a hot meal.