Stale ale and roasted meat, a scent that had become his unwelcome companion since his arrival, clung to Wyva even after a thorough bath. He knew this pervasive aroma was the new normal, but he doubted he'd ever truly accept it.
His meager belongings, including all his prized possessions, had been retrieved from the inn by Koa. Wyva checked them on instinct, noting with a frown that nothing was amiss.
His new lodging was on the second floor: a room with two sets of bunk beds, thin mattresses, and rough blankets. It was a humiliating contrast to the sprawling, silk-draped chamber overlooking his family's meticulous vineyards.
He ran a hand over the rough-hewn wooden frame of the top bunk.
He had to adapt.
He had to maintain the composure of the Guardian he was meant to be. He began to unfasten his belt for rest, when a sharp, insistent rap echoed on the door.
"Wyva. Downstairs. Now."
It was Koa. The voice, devoid of any warmth or pleasantries, cut through the last vestiges of Wyva's pleasant buzz. Compliance was the only option. He refastened his belt and opened the door.
The upstairs hallway was long and dimly lit. Wyva frowned at the corridor's layout: eight identical doors, meaning a maximum of sixteen members. This clashed violently with the grand vision and the guild's widespread reputation.
He scanned the walls.
Commemorating plaques, polished and gleaming, hung at regular intervals, bearing crests of distant, influential cities.
Past members, he thought, trying to reconcile the history with the current handful of eccentrics. At the end of the hall, dominating the space, was a painting depicting twenty resolute people in unique, serious armor.
Keep an open mind, Wyva. There's always more than meets the eye. He repeated the mantra, clinging to the possibility of hidden excellence.
"So," Koa's voice cut in, surprisingly casual, pulling Wyva from his internal debate, "the girls from El Sharaab. Are they as attractive as the rumors say?"
Wyva blinked, jarred by the familiar, odd shift in topic.
"They are," Wyva replied, his voice regaining its smooth cadence, "very."
Koa's stern face softened just a fraction, "good. Good. Hope we get a mission there soon. Can't wait."
He nodded, as if securing this information was vital military intelligence.
"You keep asking about women, sir," Wyva pressed, curiosity overriding caution, "may I ask Why?"
Koa shrugged, his piercing grey eyes holding a flicker of amusement.
"Every member of the Burning Tempest has their vice. Allegra has her bottles, Veech has his apathy. Maico has… well, you'll see. Mine are a lot more dignified. And reproductive."
He offered no further explanation, simply turning and leading the way downstairs.
The main hall downstairs was now remarkably clean. A testament to Wyva's service.
The tables had been pushed against the walls, leaving a wide, open training space. It was hard to imagine the raucous bar of the previous night.
Gathered in the center were three people.
Allegra, swaying gently, a bottle clutched in her hand, her green curls a vibrant mess. Veech, slumped on a lone crate, his arms crossed, his expression a study in profound disinterest.
"I wish I was on the beach right now," he rumbled, without moving his lips, his voice a low complaint.
Finally, a tall, muscular man with a severe crew cut and a rugged five o'clock shadow. He had a wide, almost predatory grin, his green eyes glinting with amusement. This was Logun, the Captain.
"Ah, our next recruit hasn't found his way yet," Logun chuckled. Koa let out a short, dry chuckle in response - a shared joke about the third, unseen recruit Wyva didn't understand.
Logun's grin widened as he turned to face the small assembly.
"Alright, everyone! Let's introduce our newest Guardian, Wyva of El Sharaab!" He gestured grandly to Wyva.
"First up, our resident spiritual guide and connoisseur of fine spirits, Allegra! One of three remaining original members, she's been with us since she was a wee twelve-year-old pup!"
"Hey!" Allegra shrieked, instantly sobered. She hurled the half-empty bottle of El Sharaab red wine at Logun's head.
Logun didn't flinch. He leaned back a fraction of an inch, and the bottle whistled past, shattering against the wall.
"Next, our heavy hitter, our immovable object, our very own living siege engine, Veech! Built like a tank, hits like one, and currently our strongest member!"
"Sand at my feet, the scent of the shore, it would be nice, yes," Veech sighed to no one in particular.
Logun simply nodded. "And then, our esteemed Vice Captain, Koa! An islander, turned full-fledged assassin, and frankly, the only reason this guild hasn't burned down or starved to death." As Logun spoke, Koa's hands blurred into motion. Two wicked knives seemed to materialize, slicing the air with silent, practiced swipes, the blades gleaming, "he's our pest control, our maid, our guard, our alarm clock, and our designated sober friend."
"Well Maico's on the other end of the country on account of very important business," Logun smiled.
"Debt collection," Allegra muttered under her breath before being cut off.
A loud, insistent knocking suddenly reverberated through the hall.
Logun's grin widened, a triumphant, mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Ah," he announced, "my recruit is here."
The heavy wooden door swung open.
The pouring rain outside seemed to follow the figure who slipped into the guild hall. He had a soaked head of red hair, his too-short clothes plastered to his frame, dripping water onto the clean floor. His boots squeaked with every step.
Wyva's eyes narrowed as he observed the individual, a strange sense of recognition washing over him. The red hair. The familiar build.
"Relik?" Wyva breathed, the name escaping before he could stop it.
The boy lifted his head slowly, his familiar amber eyes meeting Wyva's. "Hey Wy," Relik responded with a curt nod, his voice flat with exhaustion.
For a moment, Wyva paused, his initial warmth fading into profound confusion. Then, the realization hit Wyva with a twist of shared, dark humor.
Wyva couldn't help but chuckle, "no wonder you were so happy when the proctor said my name. We're here for the wine, aren't we?"
Allegra's grin widened further. "Ah, Wyva honey, ever so... observant."
Logun swept his gaze between the two boys, amusement glinting in his green eyes. "Don't look so disappointed, lads. I promise you, your families' excellent bottles may have been a factor in your selection, gods know a good drink helps the divine judgment flow, but there are other, far more important things the gods saw in you. Things we see."
Koa stepped forward, back straight and eyes sure, "Wyva, for instance. You're an excellent archer, aren't you? We need range. And both of you..." Koa paused, pacing a short distance.
"Both of you have the potential to be Insinyurs. And that, my boys, is rare. If we have two, we can loan our services out a lot more often."
"Insinyurs?" Wyva asked, his voice betraying his curiosity, a brief flicker of the structure and purpose he craved.
"Hup!" Relik interrupted, walking over to the bar, climbing atop it, and promptly laid down, ignoring the assembly.
Koa looked to Logun, who simply shook his head, allowing the boy to rest.
"Your question will be answered come morning," Koa replied, narrowing his eyes at Wyva. "My training is sure to leave no issue unresolved."
Logun clapped his hands. "Alright, Veech you're patrolling the southern wall at sunrise. Allegra you have to report to the temple for aome paperwork, any questions... Okay none. Then meeting adjourned."