Chapter One

Chapter One

Aurya 11th 468 AC

Raena Silverthorne

Raena jolted awake, her body slick with cold sweat, the phantom scent of ash clinging to her skin. The nightmare, a recurring torment since her thirteenth year, had once again dragged her back to the inferno of Myne. Thirteen years had passed, yet the screams of her mother and sister still echoed in her ears, a constant, chilling reminder of the night that had shattered her world. Now, at twenty-six, she carried the weight of those memories, a burden made heavier by her youthful appearance, a cruel trick of her elven blood and magic that kept her looking barely sixteen. Found as a broken child and taken in by Kimmel and the Adventurer's Guild, Raena had built walls around her heart, keeping most at arm's length.

Though she was surrounded by the camaraderie of the guild, true friendship remained elusive, a casualty of the fire that still burned within her soul.

Shedding the remnants of her nightmare, Raena rose from her bed, the chill of the morning air a stark contrast to the burning memories that still lingered. She moved with practiced efficiency, her fingers deftly fastening the laces of her brown leather breeches, then smoothing the crisp white linen of her shirt. Over this, she donned a muted brown leather vest, its supple material molded to her form, a silent promise of protection. Finally, she slid her feet into lightweight, soft-soled brown leather boots, crafted for stealth and swift movement. A quick, practiced check confirmed her daggers were securely nestled within her boot sheaths. She then strapped on her belt, the weight of her coin purse a familiar comfort. A moment's pause, and she located her long dagger, its familiar weight reassuring in her hand. Her war bow, carefully concealed between the wall and her wardrobe, remained undisturbed, her pack safely tucked within the wardrobe.

The room was a study in simplicity, devoid of any elaborate decoration. A collection of knick-knacks, each with its own silent story, were scattered across the sparse surfaces: a broken knife, its blade tarnished and useless; a handful of colorful pebbles, smooth and worn from countless turns in her hand; a neatly folded, yet dingy cloth, the last piece of the clothing she wore that night her family perished; a small, intricately carved statue of the goddess of life, a silent sentinel against the darkness; a well-worn book, its pages filled with untold stories; and a small, ornate letter box, its contents a mystery. The bed, a simple frame with a straw mattress, stood opposite the door, its small size a testament to the solitary life Raena led.

Her gaze didn't just fall upon the broken knife; it clung to it, tracing the jagged line where the blade had snapped, a wound mirroring one within her. The tarnished steel, once gleaming under the forge's fiery breath, now held the dull patina of neglect and time, a grim testament to a friendship that had once felt as enduring as mountain stone. It had been more than just a gift; it was a promise, pressed into her palm by the calloused, yet surprisingly gentle, hand of a young blacksmith. His easy laughter, light as a summer breeze, and the genuine warmth of his smile, were now fading echoes against the harsh reality of her present.

A single, solitary tear, cold as winter rain, escaped the corner of her eye, charting a slow, deliberate path down her cheek, a silent, liquid lament for a bond that had been severed not by argument or betrayal, but by the relentless, indifferent march of years and the cruel turn of circumstance. For a long moment, she allowed herself to drown in the sorrow, the weight of memory a tangible ache in her chest. Then, with a sharp, almost violent swipe, she brushed away the glistening evidence of her grief, the lingering sadness a burden she could no longer afford to carry.

Her attention, resolute, finally shifted to the aged wardrobe nestled deep within the corner of the small room. Its wooden surface, a deep, honeyed oak, was worn smooth not just from use, but from countless touches, a silent witness to generations. The faint, sweet scent of cedar and dried herbs wafted from its depths as she pulled open the heavy door. Inside, neatly stacked and meticulously cared for, lay her travel pack, a spare set of well-mended clothing, and a quiver bristling with arrows, their fletched tips catching and glinting like scattered jewels in the meager, dusty light that filtered through the window. The soft, satisfying click of the latch echoed in the stillness as she closed it, a sound as familiar and comforting as her own heartbeat. Her hand then sought the familiar grip of her war bow, leaning patiently against the wall beside the wardrobe. This weapon, an unusual choice in a world where most adventurers favored the swift sword or the brutal axe, was more than just wood and string to Raena. It was a tangible link to her mother, a silent, sacred promise that the life, the spirit, and the memory of the woman who bore her would endure, carried forward on the taut whisper of the bowstring.

With a final, silent nod, Raena exited her room, the click of the lock a sharp punctuation in the quiet hallway. She slipped the key into a small pouch at her waist, her movements graceful and precise. The guild hallway, lined with identical doors, stretched before her like a silent sentinel, and she turned towards the stairs, her footsteps barely a whisper on the wooden steps.

Raena possessed a striking beauty, her long, waist-length hair a vibrant cascade of fiery red, a stark contrast to her piercing green eyes. Her elven heritage was subtly evident in the delicate curve of her ears, a whisper of ancient blood. A fire mage of formidable potential, Raena wrestled with the untamed power that simmered within her. Her magic, a volatile force, often erupted uncontrollably under duress, a harrowing echo of the trauma she endured thirteen years past. Though she could summon her power at will, her control remained tenuous, a constant source of frustration. Her knowledge, a patchwork of self-taught experimentation and Kimmel's guidance, allowed her to conjure fireballs of varying sizes and intensities, each a testament to her raw talent. One particular spell, a small, solid fireball with a pocket of contained air, was a favorite, its release a satisfying pop that varied in volume depending on her concentration. Yet, the raw, unbridled power she unleashed during moments of extreme duress remained elusive, a mystery she hopelessly sought to unravel.

And so, she found herself here, within the bustling heart of the Adventurer's Guild, a request for a fire magic teacher clutched tightly in her hand. A flicker of hope, fragile yet persistent, burned within her. She longed for a mentor, someone to guide her unruly magic, to unlock the potential she knew lay dormant within. With a deep breath, she approached the guild's counter, the worn parchment rustling softly in her grip. This was the hub of the guild, the place where fortunes were made and lost, where quests were sought and rewards claimed. It was here, she hoped, that her search would finally come to an end.

A cheerful lilt broke through Raena's thoughts. "Can I help you?" The voice belonged to Xera, the guild's attendant, a petite woman with a cascade of blonde curls and eyes as bright as sapphires. Her smile was infectious, her demeanor as bubbly as the morning's first cup of tea. Raena, towering over her by at least a head, offered the parchment with a hesitant smile.

"A teacher, you say?" Xera's eyes widened with delight, her gaze dancing across the request. "Oh, this is exciting! Your first official request, and for a fire magic mentor, no less! I'll post this immediately, Raena. You'll have applicants lining up, I'm sure!"

"Thank you, Xera," Raena replied, her voice a touch softer than usual. She glanced around the bustling guild hall, a symphony of hushed conversations and clinking cutlery. Even at this early hour, the space was alive with activity, adventurers gathering over steaming breakfasts at the sturdy wooden tables. Two grand staircases, one at each end of the hall, spiraled upwards, leading to the members' quarters, a welcome haven for those seeking respite between quests.

The Adventurer's Guild was a sprawling complex, a self-contained hub of activity that resembled a small village within the town. Within its walls, one could find everything an adventurer might need: a bustling blacksmith's forge, the rhythmic clang of hammer on steel echoing through the halls; a butcher's stall, where carcasses of fantastical beasts were expertly carved; and a tailor's shop, where sturdy leathers and fine silks were fashioned into practical garments. Those returning from hunting quests could deposit their monstrous trophies, receiving numbered chits as proof of their kill. Once the beasts were processed and weighed, the guild compensated the adventurers accordingly. The same system applied to gathering quests and ores, with the blacksmith acting as a willing buyer. Of course, this was all contingent on the specific terms of the contract, which might dictate alternative arrangements for the disposal of remains or ores.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Deciding to take her breakfast at the guild's food hall, Raena joined the line, the aroma of hearty stew and freshly baked bread filling the air. Ahead of her stood Kimmel, his grizzled features and gray eyes unmistakable, even in the early morning light. He turned, a warm smile creasing his weathered face. "Morning Raena," he greeted, his rough baritone voice a familiar comfort. "How have your jobs been going? You just made Rank E recently, didn't you?" His gray eyes held a keen interest, a silent question about her progress.

“Just last week,” Raena replied, a smile playing on her lips, “I managed to complete some minor hunt quests. It feels good to finally be making progress.” She paused, her green eyes sparkling with curiosity. “How was the job in Vale? Wasn’t it a three-party hunt?” She looked up at Kimmel’s face, framed by a neatly trimmed, graying black beard and a full head of salt-and-pepper hair. “I remember you mentioned it was a large Basilisk. Didn’t you say it was a formidable creature that usually requires at least two parties of four to take down?”

“Yes. We had a couple of close calls, some nasty injuries, but thankfully, no deaths and no one ended up as a stone statue,” Kimmel chuckled, his deep laugh resonating from his broad chest. “It was a tense fight, though, I won't lie.” He paused, his gray eyes softening as he looked at Raena. “You know, you’re one of the few people I consider a true friend.” A warmth spread through Raena. Kimmel, and Stepping Wolf, had been her saviors, the ones who found her, a lost and terrified child, thirteen years ago. They brought her to the sanctuary of the Guild, helped her navigate the chaos of her grief, and taught her the skills she needed to survive. They’d been her mentors, her protectors, a father figure, and brothers all rolled into one.

Kimmel was a figure of formidable presence, his broad shoulders and towering frame exuding an aura of seasoned strength. His gray eyes, sharp and watchful, held the weight of countless battles and hard-won victories. A jagged scar, a stark reminder of a near-fatal encounter with a Lich, snaked from the corner of his left lip, down his neck, and across his left shoulder. The Lich was long dead, its venomous dagger having nearly claimed Kimmel's life, were it not for a skilled healer. The scar, a testament to his resilience, was but one of many etched upon his body, a roadmap of his perilous past. He favored practical attire: scuffed leather and fur armor, crisscrossed with belts laden with an arsenal of weapons. A longsword hung at his hip, a dagger and belt pouch on the other, a tooled leather scabbard housing a short sword rested against his back. An axe, along with numerous other weapons, were strategically placed upon his person. Kimmel was a master of arms, proficient in every weapon he carried, a living arsenal honed by years of experience.

They reached the long, bustling counters where steaming cookware, kept warm by subtle enchantments, promised a hearty breakfast. “What’s on the menu today?” Raena asked, her gaze sweeping across the array of culinary delights. The air was thick with the aroma of savory stews, freshly baked bread, and sizzling meats, a symphony of scents that made her stomach rumble. The counters themselves were a testament to the guild’s efficiency, a collection of mismatched pots and pans in various sizes, each radiating a gentle warmth that kept the food at the perfect temperature.

“Scrambled Roc eggs, boar bacon, fluffy pancakes, and apple oatmeal,” the server replied, gesturing towards the steaming array of dishes. A stray lock of brown hair fell across his eyes as he leaned forward, the aroma of the food mingling with the warmth emanating from the enchanted pots and pans. “All fresh this morning,” he added with a cheerful grin.

“I’ll take the scrambled Roc eggs, boar bacon, and two pancakes,” Raena said politely, holding out a sturdy wooden plate she had retrieved from the stack nearby. The server, with a practiced flick of his wrist, deftly portioned out her selections, the fragrant steam rising from the hot food and mingling with the morning air.

“Bacon and apple oatmeal for me,” Kimmel stated, holding out his own plate. The server, with a nod, quickly filled it. With their breakfasts in hand, they scanned the bustling food hall for an empty table. Towards the back of the room, amidst the chatter and clatter, they spotted a few vacant spots. They made their way over, the aroma of their meals mingling with the other scents of the hall. Settling into their seats, they resumed their conversation, the warmth of the food and the familiarity of their surroundings creating a contented atmosphere.

“Did you take my advice and put in a request for a teacher?” Kimmel asked, his gray eyes fixed on Raena, his tone serious. He had been a strong advocate for her seeking proper magical training. Raena nodded, her long, fiery red hair swaying gently behind her back as she did so.

“Xera posted it this morning, just before we met up,” Raena replied, her words slightly muffled by a mouthful of scrambled Roc eggs. She swallowed, then continued, “So, hopefully, I’ll have a teacher within the next few weeks. I’m eager to get started.”

"Hopefully, it doesn’t take too long to get a reply, maybe a week or two at most," Kimmel stated. The conversation dwindled to an agreeable silence as they dug into their breakfasts with gusto.

“Well, I better go take a look at the quest board and see what opportunities await us today,” Raena commented, leaning back in her chair, a contented sigh escaping her lips. She crossed her hands over her comfortably full stomach. “I’m eager to see what challenges the guild has to offer.” Kimmel nodded, his gaze following her as she rose from the table, a silent understanding passing between them.

“I should go find my group as well,” Kimmel said, scraping the last spoonful of apple oatmeal from his bowl. As the leader of Stepping Wolf, a seasoned Rank B party, he was eager to see what quests awaited them. Together, they rose from their seats, the clatter of their plates a familiar sound in the bustling hall. They carried their empty dishes to the counter, the server nodding a silent acknowledgment, before making their way towards the crowded quest board. The air buzzed with anticipation, the promise of adventure hanging heavy in the air.

The quest board, a sprawling tapestry of parchment, dominated one wall of the guild hall. Each sheet detailed a different opportunity, from perilous hunts and kill contracts to delicate gathering expeditions and urgent search-and-rescue missions. The quests were meticulously organized by rank, ensuring adventurers could easily find challenges suited to their skills. Raena made her way to the far right side, where the E and F rank postings were clustered, the lower ranks a proving ground for aspiring adventurers. She knew the rules well: one could accept quests matching their own rank or those of a lower tier, a system designed to ensure both safety and fair compensation.

The F rank quests, relegated to the very bottom of the hierarchy, were limited to simple harvesting and locating tasks, a gentle introduction to the world of adventuring. At E rank, Raena found herself finally eligible for simple hunt quests, the kind a lone adventurer could manage with relative ease—tracking down a rogue wolf terrorizing a farm, or dispatching a particularly aggressive wild boar. The D rank quests offered similar challenges, but with a noticeable increase in danger, both in the creatures encountered and the environments explored. C rank marked a significant turning point, where the challenges demanded teamwork, prompting the formation of parties to tackle the more formidable monsters. B, A, and S ranks were the domain of established parties, each tier presenting increasingly perilous quests, reserved for those who had proven their mettle and skill.

Her gaze fell upon the newest posting, a request for adventurers to gather Wings of Light flowers. She read the parchment carefully, absorbing the details: six flowers needed, a cure for malady fly bites, Nestir's Forest as the location, and a reward of two silver and thirty copper. Beneath the text, a hand-drawn sketch depicted the flowers: deep green stems supporting delicate, bright blue petals that indeed resembled wings of light, almost feathery in their appearance. Raena paused, contemplating the quest. It was simple enough, a good way to earn a few coins. But something held her back. With the parchment still clutched in her hand, she decided to peruse the rest of the board, curious to see what other opportunities awaited.

Her eyes scanned the E-rank postings, settling on a hunt quest: a wild boar terrorizing travelers outside Eagle Point. The description was straightforward: kill the boar, keep the meat and hide, and receive a reward of eight silver and sixty-five copper. A practical quest, and a good way to test her combat skills. Raena made her decision. She would take both quests. Nestir's Forest, the location for the flower gathering, surrounded Eagle Point, making it feasible to complete both tasks in a single day. Besides, she needed the coin. Her purse held a meager forty-nine silver and eighty copper, barely enough to cover her expenses for the week.

Raena went back to their table for her leather bag. With her pack secured on her back, Raena paused, her gaze sweeping across the room one last time. As she exited the guildhall, she offered a brief wave to Xera, her cheerful smile a fleeting warmth, and a nod to Kimmel, his steady gaze a silent reassurance, before stepping out into the morning light.