Chapter Two

Chapter Two:

The Right Vault

The door to the Explorer’s Vault was less a door

and more a warped slab of iron wedged into stone.

No banners.

No bard songs.

Just silence,

dust,

and the scent of sulfur.

Jane glanced back.

“Wait here.”

Hanna nodded.

She stayed by the door,

eyes following Jane.

The air inside pressed low and quiet.

Stone beneath her boots,

uneven,

pocked.

A long table ran against the wall near the map,

scattered with half-burned candles and bowls of cold stew.

Parchment missions cluttered the nearby board,

some pinned sideways,

others scribbled over in three different inks.

No barkeep.

Just a jug on the counter.

Footsteps overhead.

A grizzled man

stood by the map wall.

Crooked nose.

Scarred lip.

He turned.

“Hey, elf girl.

Toys

and songs

are across the street.”

Hanna didn’t even flinch.

Jane stepped forward.

Her arm moved fast,

low,

a clean strike to his gut.

But the man caught her wrist.

Held it,

harder than he needed to.

She stared at him.

(in Vanarith):

“Drek’tosh”

His grip tightened for half a second

Then loosened.

Studied her face.

(in Vanarith):

“Kon’al Vanatari Dular’eth vesh tharn’a”

(Honored Vanatari. Aren’t you too far from the trees)

His tone was just colder,

sadder.

He released her wrist.

(in Vanarith):

“Ha’va veshan’al shar’ok drek’tosh”

(Here if you curse someone,

make sure they understand it)

Jane didn’t look away.

She straightened,

not tense,

but each movement was

sharp and precise.

Her hands moved together,

backs pressing gently.

The sides of her hands touched her chest,

like a Tree-formed.

Jane, without flinching (in Vanarith):

“Tolarin’eth tharn Kethar’ar dular”

(Even stones guide the river.

Thank you for the guidance.)

The man nodded,

then turned away.

Jane started to lift her hand towards Hanna.

;

the old man paused mid-step.

He glanced over his shoulder… then walked back.

Jane lowered her hand as the man’s steps came back.

He stopped in front of Hanna,

not close,

not looming.

Just near enough that his scarred face

caught the lantern light.

“…That was instinct.”

His voice was rough—

but also soft.

“We get Adventurer Vault kids barging in here all the time.

Loud ones.

Careless.

I…

shouldn’t have judged you by your size.”

He dipped his head,

a low and quiet bow.

“Apologies,

little one.”

Hanna blinked,

startled, then gave a small nod.

“Don’t worry.

I wasn’t expecting too much warmth getting here anyway.

But…

thanks for saying it.”

He gave her a soft pat on the back,

heavy-handed,

then turned to Jane.

The edge of his mouth lifted.

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Subtle.

Dry.

Not quite a smile.

“Welcome to the Explorer’s Vault.

Registrations on the second floor.”

He turned to walk,

raising his hand lazily as he went.

He looked over his shoulder.

“Keep breathing long enough to use those Tekkes, kids.”

He climbed the wide stairway that linked all three floors in a single ‘ramp’.

Boots thudding in rhythm,

and disappeared around the upper bend.

Jane stood still a moment longer,

watching the man’s back as he walked away.

Then she exhaled…

Behind her,

Hanna tilted her head.

“So…

what’d he say?”

Jane glanced back,

brushing dust off her sleeve.

“He taught me that

if I’m gonna insult someone…

I should make sure they understand it.”

Hanna smirked.

“That makes sense.

Hehehe.”

“He’s lucky you tried to punch him…

or else I’d have cooked him into a big piece of coal.”

Both let out a giggle.

They moved further inside.

A slow creak of metal echoed as another door shifted open ahead, wider, older, letting in faint lanternlight from a distant hallway.

Steps climbed off to the left.

Jane started forward,

then paused,

tilting her chin toward the second floor.

“Come on.

Let’s get registered

before they find a reason to kick us back outside.”

They mirrored the man’s steps going up the stairs.

At the right,

a desk sat under a cracked stone arch,

papers stacked.

A stamp box sat open

and a single chair stood behind it.

A woman sat there, arms folded.

Her gaze drifted upward as they reached the stairs.

The space behind the desk was narrow,

files stacked high in chipped wooden crates.

A single candle burned inside a cracked wall shield,

its flame swaying unevenly.

To the right, a closed cabinet with a dented lock and a tin cup resting on top.

Ink stains marked the edge of the counter.

A worn notice tacked beside the forms:

REGISTRATION CLOSES AT MIDNIGHT.

NO EXCEPTIONS.

Off to the side,

a small pile of parchment sat on a wooden stool.

Above it, a warped sign hung by a nail,

written in thick, slanted brushstrokes.

REGISTRATION FORM, TAKE ONE.

Jane stepped over.

Tore a page free.

Then another.

MAGE REGISTRATION FORM

(Explorer Division)

Name: Hanna

Surname: —

Race: Taena

Age: 14

Mage Designation:

☐ Earth  ☐ Water  ☒ Ice  ☐ Air  ☐ Fire  ☐ Light

(Select one primary element. Secondary affinities require Level 3 clearance.)

* Note: All active mages must obtain a Boost Glove (Level 1 or higher).

enabling at least 60% of channeling capacity, reducing the risk of fatality during initial missions.

GUARDIAN / FOREFRONT APPLICATION FORM

(Explorer Division)

Name: Jane

Surname: —

Race: Vanatari

Age: 16

Combat Classification:

Primary Weapon:

☒ Sword  ☐ Axe  ☐ Mace

Combat Style:

☐ Heavy Weapon  ☒ Shield + Light Weapon  ☐ Shield Only

Armor Type:

☐ Heavy  ☒ Medium

* Note: Guardians must equip gear rated at 70% durability or higher.

This includes an approved medium/heavy armor set and a certified weapon to minimize fatality rate during assigned missions.

Jane looked at Hanna’s form.

“Did you finish?”

Hanna nodded.

“Yeah.”

They started to walk towards the registration table.

The woman watched them approach,

arms folded.

Hanna placed both forms on the table

and sat in the wooden chair nearby.

;

Jane leaned her weight against the registration desk,

shoulder resting under the marble arch.

The woman glanced between the two girls.

“...No surname?”

Jane cleared her throat.

“Does it matter?”

The woman’s lips tightened slightly.

Then shrugged,

gaze sliding toward the younger one.

“So…

Why do you want to be Explorers?”

Jane didn’t blink.

“If I were you,” she said quietly, “I wouldn’t ask that.”

The woman’s eyebrow lifted.

“Afraid she’ll say you kidnapped her?”

Jane’s voice stayed flat.

“Just…

don’t say

I didn’t warn you.”

The woman turned to Hanna.

“Then…

Are you just being dragged around

by this one?”

Jane murmured.

“Pretty sure she’s the one dragging me.”

Hanna stepped forward slightly.

“Oh!

No,

no.

It’s all very logical.”

She straightened a bit,

hands resting near the forms on the desk.

Her voice shifted

Calm and fast.

“In a short version?

Explorers go into dangerous places, fight off bad things,

and extract raw Tekkes.

They're hexagonal prisms, about palm-sized,

faintly glowing, sometimes warm when freshly pulled.

Refiners or intermediaries buy them, then clean, cut, and seal them.

Top and bottom into stable forms:

Green for ten runs,

Blue for a hundred,

Purple for five hundred.

Each run is basically a charge,

you can use them for

food, lodging, gear, you name it.

Right?”

She offered a small, polite smile.

The woman blinked slowly and reached for the stamp—

Jane softly lifted a hand.

She mouthed the words.

“There’s more.”

She tilted her chin toward Hanna,

just slightly.

Hanna fixed her posture.

“That’s the short version.

the truth is—

explorers are the only path with direct access to raw Tekkes.

If we tried to go the refiner route, we’d lose years just waiting for a license.

And intermediaries? They skim. Everyone knows it. You might get half-glow value

if you’re lucky, and that’s before Vault fees.”

She started counting on her fingers,

still focused.

“Refiners cut and stabilize Tekkes into sealed cores.

But if it’s mishandled, bad bag, rushed binding, or cracked casing.

You lose energy before it’s even weighed. That’s called bleed loss.

It’s not about time, it’s about method.”

Jane leaned her weight onto one leg.

Eyes half-lidded. Amused. Half-listening.

The kind of quiet where you might blink too long

and could jump hours in the future. Hanna's voice continued.

“—so… if the bag quality holds and the pull lines are clean,

you can glow-cycle during carry and avoid signal dampening.

Then, with the right refiner, you can trigger a skip-weigh tier or bypass Vault claim entirely.

Which means:

more control, fewer taxes, and no skim-loss from intermediaries.”

She nodded once to herself.

“With just one clean pull,

we could buy a home. Not rent — buy.

Both of us.”

turned to Jane.

“And still have enough to buy an enchanted cloak for me

and a full set of gold armor for Jane.”

She looked up,

thinking.

“With a pink sparkly cape.”

Resting her hands on her waist.

“And a tea set. Obviously.”

The woman stared.

“…What?”

Jane shrugged.

“Told you.”

The woman looked between them,

then slid the forms aside and stamped them.

“Next.”

As they turned to go.

“Oh—

five runs per night.

Rooms are on the

third floor.”

They climbed the stairs.

The lodging floor was quieter.

A long hallway stretched in both directions.

Doors spaced unevenly,

numbers fading into the wood.

Footsteps echoed deeper in,

then stopped.

Somewhere,

someone was sharpening something.

They moved down the hall,

glancing at each door.

Room 12.

Jane pulled the half-green Tekke from her side pocket,

faintly glowing,

glass edges smudged.

She slotted it into the door’s receiver and turned the notch left.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Click.

The glow faded.

A soft whirr followed.

Lock bolts shifted.

The door clicked open.

Hanna tapped the doorframe.

“That one’s dead now.

Zero run left.”

She looked at Jane.

“Don’t forget to throw it out.

You remember last time,

you said, ‘Don’t worry, Hanna, I’ll do it after.’

Then two days later we both forgot,

and when you pulled your bag out,

the cracked glass cut your hand.”

She tilted her chin toward the hallway across from them.

“Over there.”

Across the hallway stood a metal bin.

Rounded top. Tekke seal etched into the front.

Rust clung to the hinge like soot.

Jane glanced at it, raising one hand.

“Yes, ma’am…”

She crossed the hall.

Lifted the lid.

Inside,

a scatter of old Tekkes.

Some faded green stamp.

Others pulsed faintly with blue.

A few cracked clean down the middle.

She dropped hers in.

The clink echoed.

She turned,

following Hanna through the door.

The room was plain.

Stone floor.

One dresser.

A small bath chamber off to the right.

Two cots.

Thin mattresses.

One window.

Hanna stepped in first.

Jane followed,

letting the door shut behind her.

She dropped her bag and let herself fall backward onto the bed.

Boots still on.

Armor still strapped.

Hair caught on her neck.

Face turned upward,

blank ceiling above.

She tilted her head just enough to see toward her feet.

The door—

Hanna, approaching fast.

Sharp steps without a single noise.

She lifted her right arm,

a perfect cube of ice snapped into shape,

formed at her palm.

She reached down,

tugged up the edge of Jane’s leather chest armor

and slipped the ice beneath it.

Jane yelped.

A full-body twitch.

She bolted upright

like she had been stabbed.

“Ser—?”

Her eyes followed Hanna’s.

Then dropped to the bed beneath her.

Muddy smudge.

Faint,

but clear.

Hanna was already standing still.

Arms crossed.

Right foot tapping.

Gaze locked on the mess.

Then she pointed toward the bathroom.

“Shower.

Now.”

Jane let out a groan

and backed away

step by step

cautiously,

like she was trying to avoid a well-earned

slap to the backside.