Gmyr's question lingers in the air:
What is it you're walking toward?"
I hesitate before answering.
"I got to make a living if I want to stay in this city… I just want a peaceful life."
Gmyr watches me in silence, then lets out a laugh.
"Who doesn't want a peaceful life, hahahaha!"
I nod awkwardly. "Right."
The Guildmaster's amusement fades, replaced by a thoughtful calm.
"Peace is a rare thing to want," he says softly. "And even rarer to keep."
He gestures toward the scribe standing by the bookshelf.
"Prepare him an adventurer's permit."
The scribe moves without a word. His motions are smooth, almost rehearsed.
Izur notices the faint flicker of the man's eyes, quick glances in his direction as though measuring something only he can see.
While the scribe writes, Gmyr explains the guild's system: ranks from F to S, progression through quests, evaluations, and reputation.
I nod.
"Understood. Thank you, sir."
The scribe returns, handing me a small metal badge and a parchment permit sealed with the guild's crest.
"Do not lose it," he murmurs. His tone is calm, too calm. "You'll need it more than you think."
"I won't." I say as I come out of the office.
As the door closes behind me, the office falls into silence.
Gmyr leans back in his chair, eyes fixed on the wood where i stood moments before.
"What do you think of him?"
The scribe continues arranging documents, voice quiet but steady.
"He's difficult to read," he says after a pause. "His presence is… hollow. Like someone still waiting to exist."
Gmyr frowns. "That's poetic. Not useful.'
Now the scribe looks up, the candlelight catching his pale eyes.
"Then I'll say this: if he's pretending, he's the best liar I've ever seen. And if he's not…"
He smiles faintly.
"Then something else is pretending through him."
The Guildmaster exhales slowly.
"Keep an eye on him."
"Already am," the scribe whispers, returning to his notes.
The guild hall buzzes with noise and the smell of steel.
I make my way to the quest board. Bounties, deliveries, monster hunts.
One sheet catches his eye.
No rank mark. Crimson wax seal.
Quest: Locate an old man. Dead or alive.
The sketch, the same face as the dying old man from the forest.
Before i can think further, a voice breaks his focus.
"That one?" Raynor's tone is casual but warning. "Bad pick. You won't even find his shadow."
"Why's that?" I turn slightly.
"Because he's stronger than most S-tier parties combined," Raynor says with a dry laugh. "And insane. They call him a heretic."
"A heretic… I see." I try to keep my face calm.
I place the paper back.
"Then what can I actually take as F-tier?"
Raynor grins and hands me another quest.
"Collect two young mandrakes from the forest. Simple job, low pay. Perfect start."
"It'll do, thanks you." I smile faintly
The receptionist stamps my quest with a swift motion.
"Two days to complete. Bring them back fresh and clean. Five quests for a rank-up exam."
I thank her and head toward the northern gate.
"Ah, Izur!" the guard calls out. "Out again already?"
"Guess what? I'm an adventurer now." I grin.
"Heh. First quest, huh? Just don't get locked out, we close the gates at nightfall."
"Got it" I replies, waving.
After some searching in the forest, i find the first mandrake clinging to the roots of a thick oak.
It screams softly when pulled free, making his skin crawl.
"Creepy little thing," i mutter, dropping it carefully into a pouch.
The second takes longer, hidden beneath moss near a stream. By the time i'm done, the sun is gone, only silver light filters through the branches.
"Damn… sun's gone."I start to hurry back
By the time I reach the northern gate, the sun has already drowned behind the treeline.
The air feels… wrong.
Still, too stil.
The guards are closing the heavy doors when they see me sprinting through the mist.
"Didn't I tell you to be back before night?" the gatekeeper grumbles, his voice echoing in the stone archway.
"You did," I pant, bending slightly to catch my breath. "But I tried. The forest kept me longer than I thought."
He studies me for a moment, then looks past me, toward the dark woods.
For a heartbeat, his face changes. Not fear… something colder. Recognition.
"Izur," he says quietly. "Tell the Guildmaster to come to the northern gate tonight."
I blink. "What? Why?"
He doesn't look at me, his eyes are fixed on the forest's edge, where the mist is thickest.
"Monsters might attack," he murmurs.
I nod. "Alright. I'll tell him."
"Go. And hurry," he says. "The mist's thinner tonight" he murmurs
I run back to the guild, reports everything to the receptionist.
Moments later, the scribe arrives.
"The gatekeeper warned of an attack?"
"Yes," I answers. "That's what he said."
The scribe studies me for a long moment.
"I see," he murmurs. "Then we'll be ready."
"Good work, Izur." He gives a faint smile.
I hand over the mandrakes. The receptionist weighs them and counts ten coppers into his palm.
As i turn to leave, the scribe speaks again, almost as if to himself.
"There are things we shouldn't look at it directly. "
"What do you mean?". I frown
"Never mind," the scribe says quickly, already walking away.
I let it go, not realizing those words would come back to me sooner than I'd think. I go straight to the inn.
The innkeeper greets me with a tired smile. "Long day?"
"Something like that," I murmur.
After a small meal, I climb to my room and lock the door. The old man's book lies where I left it, on the small wooden table.
I open it, and again, the letters refuse to stay still.
They slither when I look too long, like ink alive under my gaze.
I close it, frustrated. "Still nothing…"
That's when I remember the smaller notebook in my cloak.
I hold it in my hand for a long time.
Something about it feels… wrong. Familiar and foreign at once.
I set the notebook aside, blow out the candle, and lets darkness swallow the room.