The early summer sun cast a golden haze of dust over the packed-earth streets of the city of Erath. The air was thick with the scent of human sweat, of livestock, and the faint, tempting aroma of baking bread from a nearby oven. Akari made her way down the street, her ice-blue hair tied back neatly, a silent, striking figure amidst the crowd clad in drab brown and grey homespun. She didn't look at the colorful market stalls or listen to the calls of the vendors. Her golden eyes simply swept over everything, absorbing, analyzing, then returning to their usual state of calm.
She had just received her pay for several days of work at an apothecary—a few cold, meager coins in her pocket. It was enough for bread and a shoddy room at an inn for the next three days. Such was the familiar rhythm of her life.
Suddenly, a horrifying screech of tortured wood tore through the air, followed by a sickening crunch and the panicked screams of the crowd.
A cargo cart, overloaded with timber, had its axle snap midway down the slope. Heavy, round logs cascaded down, tumbling wildly into the open-air market. Screams, the crash of stalls, and the wail of a child erupted into a symphony of chaos.
The crowd scattered like a broken dam. Some stood gawking with morbid curiosity; others fled in terror. The city guards tried to intervene, but their shouts were useless attempts to impose order on a situation that had none.
Akari, shoved by the surging crowd, braced herself against a wall. She did not panic. Instead, she stood still for a moment, her golden eyes narrowing as she systematically scanned the scene. A man was pinned under the cart's frame, his leg bleeding profusely. A woman lay sprawled on the ground, her arm bent at an unnatural angle. A child, separated from its mother, stood amidst the wreckage and cried its heart out.
She took a deep breath. The nerves of steel, forged through years in an orphanage and on the streets, took immediate control.
She didn't run to the woman or the child first. She sprinted to the man who was losing the most blood.
"Help me!" she commanded a man who stood frozen nearby. Her voice wasn't loud, but it held an authority that startled him into action. "Lift it, just a little!"
While the man used all his strength to raise a corner of the cart, Akari quickly tore a strip of cloth from her own worn tunic and retrieved a small leather pouch. She sprinkled a dark green herbal powder onto the open wound, then used the cloth strip to bind it tightly, applying firm pressure to staunch the bleeding. Only after this was done did she place her hand lightly over the bandage. A faint, weak light, like that of a firefly, pulsed from her hand for a few seconds before fading. Her Rank E magic couldn't heal the wound, but it could encourage the blood to clot a little faster and soothe the searing pain.
Leaving the man out of immediate danger, she moved swiftly to the woman with the broken arm.
"Don't move," she said, her voice still even. The woman was sobbing in pain, but Akari's calm seemed to be infectious. She looked around, grabbed two flat pieces of wood from a shattered stall, and tore another strip from her tunic. She expertly fashioned a makeshift splint, immobilizing the broken arm to prevent further injury. No Mana was used. It was pure knowledge.
Finally, she approached the crying child. She didn't do much—just knelt to its eye level, wiped the tears from its face with a single finger, and gave it a small piece of hard candy she always kept in her pouch.
The entire process took only a few minutes, an island of order and efficiency in a sea of chaos.
As the guards and other citizens began to get the situation under control, Akari quietly stepped back, intending to melt back into the crowd and disappear as she always did.
"Wait."
A deep, steady voice spoke from right behind her. Akari turned. Before her stood a tall man in practical leather armor, a longsword at his hip. He was no city guard. He looked every bit the seasoned adventurer. He had been standing there for some time, watching her every move.
"I saw how you handled things," he said. "Not the magic. Your magic is weak. I'm talking about the rest of it. The calm. The way you knew who to save first. The way you made that splint. Most adventurers, even Rank C ones, would have panicked in that situation."
Akari didn't reply, her golden eyes watching him with caution. This was not the kind of praise she was used to.
The man didn't seem to mind her silence. "Your calmness is valuable," he continued. "My team is about to escort a researcher through the Western Woods. It's not overly dangerous, but we need someone who can keep everyone alive if they get hurt. Someone with a cool head and a steady hand."
He looked directly at her. "Someone like you."
Akari finally spoke, her voice laced with suspicion. "Why me? My Rank is E."
The man offered a faint smile, entirely without mockery. "Rank E only tells me how much Mana you have. It doesn't say a thing about how much courage you have."
He held out his hand. "My name is Kael. If you agree, we leave tomorrow morning."
Akari looked at Kael's outstretched hand, then back at the chaotic scene behind her. A familiar path of uncertainty, and a sudden offer that could change everything. For the first time, someone had looked at her and hadn't seen a useless Rank E, but something more.
For a moment, hesitation flickered in her still, golden eyes.