Location: Merchant Guild Hall Foyer (Dawn)
The first lanterns of dawn glowed amber against the polished oak doors of the Merchant Guild's grand foyer, where polished brass trays of pastries and silver samovars stood ready for the morning's meeting. Brother Mirthan the Meek—now better known as Hero Candidate #3—paused at the threshold, his twin‑blades sheathed and halo faintly flickering. In one hand, he carried a thick scroll sealed with the Merchant Circle's wax emblem.
He inhaled deeply, his robes whispering against the marble floor. Beside him, his retainer—a wiry merchant scribe—clutched a ledger and quill. Mirthan cleared his throat and rapped once on the door.
"By the grace of the Divine Variable…" he began, then faltered. He folded the scroll in both hands. "I—Brother Mirthan—request official retirement from herohood."
At his signal, the doors swung open. A hush fell among the gathered merchants: weavers, spice‑traders, crystal‑dealers, and hedge‑fund managers, all arrayed in fine brocade. They stared at Mirthan's scroll with a mix of shock and delight.
A tall merchant official in emerald robes, Master Corvinus, advanced. He bowed low, wide sleeves nearly touching the floor. "Brother Mirthan, your departure from the Heroic Order—while unexpected—honors the sanctity of choice. We welcome you to the Merchant Guild, if you would grace our ledgers with your presence."
Mirthan's halo flickered uncertainly. "I… I never sought fame beyond cleaning ankles and filing petitions. The weight of herohood stifles my spirit. I wish only to balance accounts and… taste fine pastries."
A collective murmur rippled through the hall. Silver‑haired traders exchanged glances. Master Corvinus smiled. "Then sign here, and welcome to the Circle of Coin. We have a vacancy for Director of Goods Authentication—your past as a hero‑cleric ensures integrity."
Mirthan bowed, sealing the scroll with a hesitant press of his seal‑ring. The wax cracked, and with that crack, a quiet rebellion of paper and pens began: the Merchant Guild had acquired a bona fide hero, and the balance of guild power shifted on a single signature.
---
Location: Guild Administration Hall – Mid‑Morning
News of Mirthan's defection spread through Solencia faster than a half‑priced tearoom special. By mid‑morning, Itsuki Hiroto arrived at the Guild Administration Hall's main corridor, flanked by Sera and Virelya.
Hiroto rubbed his chin. "Mirthan… joined the merchants?"
Sera tapped her potions pouch. "He submitted a formal Retirement Scroll—five pages, double‑spaced, with bullet points on stress markers."
Virelya's hand drifted to her sword‑hilt. "This will complicate the Guild's politics. Merchants now boast a hero—others will mount rival offers."
Hiroto exhaled. "I just want to order more files."
They entered the Administration Chamber, where guild clerks clustered around announcement boards. A new placard flickered with a fresh proclamation:
> "Brother Mirthan Retires from Herohood; Assumes Office at Merchant Guild."
Below it, scrawled in urgent red ink: "CLERK HIROTO: NEXT TARGET FOR RECRUITMENT?"
Hiroto's cheeks flushed. "I… thought I retired from hero training."
A clerk bowed with a stack of scrolls. "Several guilds sent letters: Dockworkers' Union, Artisan's Consortium, Thieves' Collective. They wish to recruit you."
Hiroto groaned. "Why won't they leave me alone?"
Sera draped an arm around him. "Because you're a weapon—a political variable they all want on their side."
Virelya exchanged a glance with a Captain of Guards. "Be prepared. Council members now view you as strategic asset—disputes will escalate."
Hiroto pinched his nose. "Can't they squabble without me?"
---
Location: Merchant Circle Council Room – Late Morning
Meanwhile, in the vaulted Merchant Circle Council Room, Brother Mirthan—now Director of Goods Authentication—oversaw a meeting of guild elders. He sat at the head of a long table, quills at the ready.
Master Corvinus opened the session: "With the Divine Variable's trusted associate among our ranks, the Merchant Guild's influence grows. We propose a coalition bidding war for Commander Hiroto's allegiance."
A spice‑merchant nodded vigorously. "We will offer lifetime tea supplies and tax‑exempt import status."
A gem‑trader added, "We pledge a monthly honorarium for his advisory council."
Mirthan's forehead furrowed. He tapped his quill on the table. "Gentlemen and ladies, we are merchants of integrity, not an army. If we drive Hiroto into another guild's arms, we lose all credibility."
A murmur of dissent rose. "But the Dwarven Merchants promise a seat on the High Finance Tribunal—"
Mirthan stood, placing a hand on the ledger before him. "We must not replicate the clerical chaos we condemn. I humbly propose we petition the Council of Guilds—with the Church's blessing—to declare non‑military neutrality for Hiroto."
Heads turned. Corvinus stroked his beard. "A diplomatic gambit… If successful, it would elevate our standing across the continent."
Mirthan bowed. "Then let us draft the petition—together."
---
Location: Grand Council Chamber – Early Afternoon
Back at the Grand Council Chamber—a domed rotunda lined with statues of guild founders—representatives from Dwarven Caravans, Beastfolk Herdsmen, Sky Rider Patrols, and all manner of trade and craft had gathered.
At the dais, Chancellor Beltram presided. He rapped his gavel. "We convene an emergency session on the status of Captain Itsuki Hiroto. Multiple guilds claim him as asset or defector. Each faction alleges he holds the key to logistical supremacy."
A dwarven envoy banged his hammer‑stave. "We demand Hiroto's exclusive allegiance! Our stone roads require his planning!"
A Beastfolk elder snarled, "Our herds suffer without his balanced routes!"
A Sky Rider herald swooped down, unrolling a feather‑scribed scroll. "He must choose a realm—or neutrality!"
From the Merchant delegation, Mirthan stepped forward, holding the draft petition. "Esteemed Council, I speak not as hero, but as clerk—representing the Merchant Guild's plea for Hiroto's neutrality. Let him remain free to serve peace, not war."
Murmurs of surprise—then debate—then grudging assent.
"Very well," Beltram decreed. "The Council acknowledges Captain Hiroto's non‑alignment. His services may be requested, not compelled. Any violation incurs the Council's sanctions."
Across the chamber, relief—though tempered by the unspoken truth that every guild would still vie for his counsel in polite, bureaucratic warfare.
---
Location: Hiroto's Office – Late Afternoon
Hiroto returned to his cramped office, blinking at the afternoon light. His desk groaned under the weight of petitions: two from the Merchant Guild, one from the Artisan Consortium, three from the Thieves' Collective offering… surprisingly honest bribes.
Sera dropped a stack of "carry‑on" scroll cases at his feet. "You are in demand."
He picked up the draft Council resolution, now signed. "Neutrality… at least on paper." He scanned the signatures: dwarves, elves, demons, merchants… even the reformed assassins' marks.
Virelya entered, report in hand. "The Council's non‑alignment clause passed unanimously. But they now cite you as 'Strategic Asset – Unsold.'"
Hiroto's eyes glazed. "I just wanted to balance ledgers."
He sank into his chair. The petitions fluttered like anxious birds. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Peace by accident. Now neutrality by edict.
Sera set a bowl of chili noodles beside him. "At least you have noodles."
Hiroto exhaled, gratitude mingling with fatigue. "And tea." He tapped his quill against the desk. "One day, I'll just… nap."
Virelya sheathed her resolve with a nod. "Only if you're unconscious."
Hiroto slurped a noodle, eyes on the patchwork of treaties and petitions. I never asked for this. Yet here he stood—a clerk whose retirement invitations had been refused by destiny itself.
With each slurp, he readied himself for the next wave: political maneuvering disguised as polite requests. And as the sun set outside his window, the reluctant hero realized that the greatest revolt of all was not embezzlement or rebellion, but the ceaseless demand for his involvement in a world that refused to let him be just a clerk and noodle‑lover.