The guild hall buzzed with the usual midday noise — clinking mugs, adventurers bragging about hunts, and the faint smell of ale and sweat in the air. The Silver Dawn party stepped inside, still streaked with dirt and blood but smiling with quiet pride.
At the counter, the familiar receptionist, a cheerful woman with round spectacles, looked up as Lyssa placed a small sack on the table. "Four dorewolf cores," Lyssa said. "E-rank request, complete."
The woman opened the bag and examined the contents, nodding approvingly. "Clean extraction… you even brought the claws and hides. Efficient work. You're new, right?"
Ren grinned. "Silver Dawn. First mission."
"Really? For a first mission, that's impressive." She counted the payment, then smiled at Lyssa. "You're the party leader, yes? Don't let this team slip away. They'll grow fast under you."
Lyssa chuckled, taking the pouch she offered. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Total comes to one hundred and fifty bronze coins. Good work, Silver Dawn."
They thanked her and moved to an empty table at the corner of the guild hall. Lyssa untied the pouch and poured the coins onto the table — the soft clinking drawing the group's eyes.
Ren whistled. "That's more money than I've seen in a while."
Arin leaned in. "So… how do we split it?"
Ren rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, how about twenty for each of us, and thirty for Lyssa since she's the leader — she carried us through that fight. The last forty we put aside for the party, for things like potions, bandages, traps—"
Before he could finish, Lyssa shook her head. "No. We all took part. We all fought. We split it evenly — twenty-five each. That's one hundred twenty-five coins total. The remaining twenty goes to the party fund, and five…" She paused, her lips curving into a rare grin. "…five for ale."
The twins exchanged bright smiles. "Ale fund approved!" Nara cheered.
Ren burst out laughing. "Now that's a fair deal."
Arin smiled quietly, warmth in his chest as he looked around the table. For the first time, it felt like he truly belonged somewhere — a family of his own making.
They divided the coins, Ren carefully sliding each share across the table, then pocketing the last five for the promised ale.
"To Silver Dawn," Lyssa said, raising her mug as the ale arrived.
"To Silver Dawn!" they echoed, mugs clashing, laughter rising above the hum of the hall — the sound of a beginning none of them would ever forget.
---
The door creaked open, and Arin stumbled inside, boots muddy, eyes glazed but glowing with excitement.
"Miraaa, I'm home!" he called, half-laughing.
Mira looked up from the table where she'd been sorting herbs, her silver eyes narrowing the moment she caught the faint smell of ale. "Arin. Don't tell me—"
He raised a finger dramatically. "We did it! Our first quest! Silver Dawn conquered the Direwolves of the North Field!"
"You're drunk," she said flatly.
"Just… a little." He wobbled in place, grinning sheepishly. "We even made some money." He patted his pouch proudly before nearly toppling over. Mira rushed forward, catching him by the arm.
"By the goddess…" she sighed, steadying him. "You can't even walk straight."
He looked at her with drowsy sincerity. "You know, Mira… you're really beautiful when you're angry."
Her eyes widened, heat blooming on her cheeks. "W-What are you saying all of a sudden?"
He blinked slowly. "If you weren't my mom's best friend, I'd probably…" He yawned mid-sentence, words slurring together. "…probably never leave home."
"Honestly…" Mira muttered, shaking her head — but she couldn't suppress the small, embarrassed smile tugging at her lips.
He slumped forward, already asleep on her shoulder.
Mira looked at him for a long moment, her expression softening. "You really do take after her," she whispered, brushing his hair from his face.
With a quiet sigh, she guided him to his bed, laid him down, and tucked him in beneath the blanket. For a moment, she stood there watching him — peaceful, careless, still smiling in his sleep.
"Sleep well, Arin," she said, turning off the lamp. "Tomorrow, you'll wake up with a headache… and I'll make sure you remember every bit of it."
She left the room with a faint laugh, the door closing softly behind her.
---
The morning sun filtered through the curtains, spearing right into Arin's eyes.
He groaned and rolled over, clutching his head. "Ugh… why does the world hurt…"
"Good morning," came Mira's voice from the doorway — far too cheerful for his current state. She stood with her arms folded, wearing a soft blue dress, her long white hair neatly braided. "How does it feel?"
"Like a war hammer hit me," he muttered, squinting at her. "You could at least pretend to pity me."
"Oh, I pity you," she said sweetly. "Just not enough to heal you."
Arin sat up with a start. "Wait, what? Mira, please—just one heal spell. My head's splitting apart."
She tilted her head, smiling that dangerous smile that always meant no. "Maybe next time you'll remember what happens when you drink too much."
He flopped back onto the bed with a groan. "You're cruel…"
"No," she said, walking closer and setting a glass of water and some bread on his bedside table. "I'm caring. Cruelty would be letting you drink again tonight."
Arin cracked one eye open. "So that's a 'no' to celebrating our first quest today?"
"Absolutely."
He grinned weakly. "You're scarier than Lyssa."
"Take that as a compliment."
Despite his hangover, Arin laughed — the sound weak but genuine. He sat up slowly, sipping the water. Mira turned to leave, but his voice stopped her.
"Hey, Mira…"
She looked back.
"Thanks. For always… watching out for me."
Her expression softened again, the sternness fading. "Always," she said quietly. Then, with her usual grace, she left him to recover in peace.
Arin leaned back, staring at the ceiling, smiling despite the pounding in his head. "Worth it," he whispered.
"I won't help you, but I will help you," she finished, smirking faintly. "Drink this."
He picked up the mug and sniffed. The smell alone almost made him gag. "What is this?"
"A tonic," she replied matter-of-factly. "It relieves headaches and helps your body flush the alcohol faster."
He gave her a suspicious glance, then took a big gulp. Instantly, his face twisted into a grimace. "By the goddess—why is it so bitter?!"
Mira's lips curved into a soft, amused smile. "Because that's what adventurers drink after a night like yours. We all did when we started — before my powers ever reached this level."
Arin groaned but took another sip anyway. She stepped closer, the faint scent of lavender following her as she reached out and brushed a few stray strands of hair from his forehead.
"Come on," she said gently, leaning down to press a light kiss to his brow. "Drink up. You'll live."
Her touch lingered for a moment, warm and comforting. Despite the taste, Arin smiled faintly and downed the rest of the tonic.
"Good," she said, standing straight again. "Now, since you're awake and suffering, it's the perfect time for lessons."
He blinked. "Lessons? Now?"
Mira folded her arms, her tone turning mock-serious. "If you can survive my tonic, you can survive anything. Come on, Arin. Let me give you some pointers before the others drag you into another disaster."
Arin groaned again, but this time, it came with a grin. "Yes, ma'am…"