Lars woke up to Aery already moving around the room.

  She was at the small mirror on the far wall, running her fingers through her hair, humming something faintly under her breath. Her grimoire was already packed. Her wand tucked neatly at her side. She was moving with a lightness that hadn’t been there any day since he had met her at the gates of Zahara.

  Lars watched her for a moment then smiled to himself and sat up.

  “You’re up early,” he said.

  Aery turned from the mirror and looked at him with a brightness that caught him slightly off guard.

  “So are you,” she said.

  Lars rubbed the back of his neck and reached for his satchel. He checked it out of habit. Badge. Coins. Cores. Ring.

  Then stopped.

  He looked at his hands then at his side where a weapon would sit if he had one.

  “I still don’t have a weapon,” he said.

  Aery tilted her head.

  “You mentioned that to Hadrim on the road didn’t you? Something about using your bare fists.”

  “I did,” Lars said. “And then completely forgot about it.”

  Aery laughed. Not the careful reserved laugh he had heard from her before. Something more open. More genuine.

  Lars stood and slung his satchel over his shoulder.

  “Rafeq’s shop first,” he said. “Then the association.”

  Aery nodded and picked up her grimoire.

  “Agreed.”

  They headed out.

  Zahara was already moving around them. Vendors arranging their stalls, the smell of spice and bread drifting from open windows, the city finding its rhythm the way it did every day regardless of what anyone else had going on.

  They turned down the familiar lane and Rafeq’s shop came into view ahead, its wooden sign hanging still in the dry morning air. Lars pushed the door open and they stepped inside.

  Rafeq looked up from behind the counter and recognized Lars immediately.

  “Back again,” he said. “Looking for those gauntlets still?”

  Lars moved to the display where he had seen them before. Still there. He picked them up and turned them over in his hands.

  “Any chance the price has come down?” he asked.

  Rafeq looked at him flatly.

  “Still sixty bronze.”

  Lars nodded.

  “Thought so.”

  He set them on the counter without putting them back.

  Rafeq glanced at them then at Lars.

  “Looks like you’ve finally decided on your path,” he said.

  Lars looked at the gauntlets.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I have.”

  Rafeq reached under the counter and set something else down beside them.

  Boots. Dark leather, reinforced at the toe and heel, with faint markings pressed into the surface along the sides.

  “Enchanted boots,” Rafeq said. “You don’t see many people buying them. Monks mainly.”

  Lars picked one up and examined it.

  “What do they do?”

  “Reinforce the impact of kicks,” Rafeq said. “Same principle as a gauntlet but for the feet. A monk who uses their legs properly would find them useful. Second weapon effectively.”

  Lars set the boot down and looked at both items on the counter.

  He thought about what Master Raizen had pointed out during their first session. That he fought from the waist up. That his legs carried no intention. With enchanted boots behind his kicks that would become something else entirely.

  “How much for both?” he asked.

  Rafeq looked between the gauntlets and the boots.

  “Together — one silver.”

  Lars felt it in his chest immediately.

  He did the quiet calculation. The inn was costing him more than he was used to. Meals. Equipment. One silver on top of everything else was a real dent.

  But he was going on a quest today.

  And if he found another A Rank contract he would make it back before the week was out.

  He reached into his satchel and counted it out.

  One silver onto the counter.

  Rafeq picked it up, examined it once and pocketed it without ceremony.

  “Good choice,” he said simply.

  Lars picked up the gauntlets and turned them over one more time then looked at the boots.

  “They suit you,” Aery said quietly beside him.

  Lars glanced at her. She was looking at the gauntlets with a small smile.

  He packed both items carefully and straightened up.

  “These will have to do until Dorgrum,” he said.

  He nodded to Rafeq.

  Rafeq nodded back.

  They stepped out and turned toward the association.

  The association was busier than the last time they had been inside.

  Lars and Aery stepped through the entrance and the low hum of conversation filled the space around them. Adventurers at tables. A group near the back wall going over a map. The familiar smell of old wood and ink.

  A few faces turned as they walked in.

  Lars noticed it immediately. The glances that lasted a beat too long. The way a conversation near the quest board dropped slightly when he passed. He caught Ghoran across the room, the large man’s eyes finding him the moment he stepped inside. Ghoran didn’t say anything. He just watched.

  The tremors from the sand wyrm quest had apparently made the rounds.

  Lars ignored it and moved to the quest board.

  He scanned it top to bottom. There were several A Rank contracts pinned across the upper section. His eyes moved through them quickly. Two at base pay — five silver each. One at eight silver. Standard difficulty. Reasonable rewards.

  Then he saw it.

  His eyes stopped.

  2 gold coins.

  A Rank.

  He reached out and pulled the parchment off the board before he had finished reading it. Then he turned and held it out to Aery.

  She took it and read.

  Material Collection — Dune Razor Scales and Razor Claws. Quantity required: 25 scales, 10 claws.

  Aery looked up at him.

  “Lars—”

  “It’ll be fine,” he said.

  “You didn’t even read it before you grabbed it.”

  “I read the important part.”

  Aery looked back at the parchment with an expression that wasn’t convinced.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you,” Lars said. “I mean that.”

  Aery held his gaze for a moment then exhaled quietly and nodded.

  They walked to the counter together.

  Kael looked up as they approached and recognized them both. His eyes dropped to the parchment in Lars’ hand. Something shifted in his expression.

  “You pulled the Dune Razor contract,” he said.

  “We did,” Lars confirmed, setting it on the counter.

  Kael looked at it for a moment without picking it up.

  “A Rank parties have attempted this quest,” he said carefully. “Experienced ones. There have been fatalities.”

  Aery’s jaw tightened slightly.

  “The Dune Razor is fast,” Kael continued. “Faster than anything you’ve likely encountered. It can press itself flat against the terrain and become nearly invisible. When it charges it displaces enough air to kick up a localized sandstorm. You won’t always see it coming and you won’t always be able to see it at all.”

  Lars listened without interrupting.

  “I’m not saying you can’t take the quest,” Kael said. “You’re both qualified on paper. But two B Rankers going in where full A Rank parties have taken losses—” He paused. “I want to make sure you understand what you’re accepting.”

  “We understand,” Lars said.

  Kael looked at him for a long moment. Then at Aery.

  Then he picked up his stamp.

  The door to the association swung open behind them.

  Lars glanced back briefly. A courier moving fast, a sealed letter in hand. He crossed the floor without stopping and headed straight toward the back corridor leading to Zahira’s office.

  Lars turned back to the counter.

  Kael pressed the stamp down on the parchment and slid it back across to Lars.

  “North side of Zahara,” he said. “Past the third ridge line. The terrain opens up there — wider and more exposed. That’s where they’ve been sighted.” He folded his hands on the counter. “The Dune Razor is territorial. You won’t need to go far once you cross into its range. It’ll find you.”

  Lars folded the parchment and tucked it into his satchel.

  “I’ll notify Head Master Zahira that you’ve taken the quest,” Kael added. “Standard procedure for contracts with this kind of history.”

  “Understood,” Lars said.

  He bowed. Aery followed.

  They turned and walked toward the exit.

  Across the room Ghoran’s eyes followed them all the way to the door, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and curiosity as they stepped outside.

  Kael came around the counter and headed toward the back corridor.

  Zahira’s office door was slightly open. He knocked once and stepped inside.

  She was at her desk, a letter open in front of her, her expression more serious than he had seen it in some time. She didn’t look up immediately.

  “Head Master. My apologies if I’m interrupting.”

  Zahira glanced up and composed herself.

  “Kael. What is it?”

  “The two B Rankers. Lars Silverwing and his party member. They’ve just taken the Dune Razor contract.”

  Zahira was quiet for a beat.

  “The two gold quest?”

  “Yes. I briefed them on the difficulty. The previous party failures. They accepted regardless.”

  Zahira leaned back in her chair slowly.

  The Dune Razor. Nearly S Rank in difficulty. A quest that had turned back experienced parties and cost others their lives. Taken by a B Rank monk in training and a B Rank mage still finding her control.

  She thought about what she had just been reading before Kael walked in.

  Then she smiled. Small. To herself.

  “Thank you Kael,” she said. “That will be all.”

  He bowed and left, pulling the door behind him.

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

  Zahira turned back to the letter on her desk.

  Her eyes moved to the bottom of the page where the final line sat alone, separated from the rest of the text.

  She read it once more.

  At the bottom of the letter, in Grandolf’s steady hand:

  He is Sesilia’s next Dragon Slayer.

  ______

  The main hall of the Wilds Guild went quiet as they walked in.

  Rin led the way with her head down. The two scouts followed close behind her, silent. One of them carried something wrapped in cloth and bound with rope across his arms. Rin held a bag at her side with both hands.

  The guild members who saw them stopped what they were doing.

  Nobody asked anything.

  They watched Rin cross the hall toward Guild Master Raiyo’s office and disappear through the door. The scouts followed. The door closed behind them.

  Guild Master Raiyo was already standing when they entered.

  He had been waiting since they left. He had told himself he wouldn’t read into however long it took. He had read into every hour regardless.

  His eyes went to the door as it closed.

  No one behind them.

  He looked at Rin’s face.

  He already knew.

  “Is Gallant—”

  Rin stepped forward and set the bag on his desk without a word.

  The office went completely still.

  Raiyo looked at the bag for a moment. Then he reached forward and opened it.

  He saw Gallant’s face.

  He closed it.

  The mana came before he could stop it. It rose out of him filling the room, pressing against the walls. His jaw was locked. His hands were flat on the desk.

  “Who did this,” he said. His voice was low and controlled in the way that things are controlled right before they stop being controlled.

  Rin shook her head. “We don’t know.”

  “How did you find him.”

  Rin told him. The lane. The alley entrance. The sword planted upright in the ground.

  The scout behind her stepped forward and set the cloth wrapped object on the desk beside the bag. He unwrapped it carefully.

  Gallant’s sword.

  The mana pulsing out of Raiyo surged sharply. Behind the closed door the guild members in the hall felt it pass through the walls like pressure before a storm. Several of them stepped back from the door without realizing they had moved.

  Rin’s face broke.

  She had been holding it since the underworld. Through the walk back. Through the main hall. She had kept it locked behind her expression for every step.

  She couldn’t hold it anymore.

  She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth and her shoulders dropped and she cried. Not quietly. The kind of crying that came from somewhere deep and specific. Two guild members. Two people she had stood beside for years.

  Gone.

  Guild Master Raiyo looked at her for a long moment. The mana still rolling off him in waves.

  Then he spoke.

  “I will destroy the underworld if it’s the last thing I do.”

  The words came out flat and absolute. Not a threat. A vow.

  He looked at the scouts.

  “This stays between us until I say otherwise. Find a proper container for his remains. Handle it with respect.”

  They nodded and gathered the items carefully, rewrapping the sword, closing the bag. Then they filed out quietly.

  Rin wiped her face and followed them.

  The door closed.

  Guild Master Raiyo stood alone in his office for exactly as long as it took him to make a decision.

  Then he walked out.

  He moved through the main hall without stopping, without looking at anyone, without a word. Guild members stepped out of his path instinctively. The mana was still there, still fluctuating, impossible to ignore.

  He pushed through the front door and out into the street.

  He walked.

  His thoughts moved faster than his feet. Two S Rank members. Both gone. Osbin in a forest clearing under circumstances nobody had fully explained. Gallant with his head on his own blade in the underworld.

  Both happened after the boy arrived.

  He had told himself that was coincidence. He had chosen to believe it because the alternative was too heavy to carry. But standing in it now with both of them gone he couldn’t choose that anymore.

  He demanded answers.

  He arrived at the Solaris Adventurers Association and walked through the entrance without breaking stride. Elira at the front desk looked up and her greeting died before it left her mouth. She sat back down.

  Raiyo didn’t stop.

  He moved through the building toward the back. The archives. The other adventurers inside felt his presence before they saw him — that particular pressure of someone carrying a lot of power and no patience. They gathered their things and left without being asked.

  Grandolf looked up from his desk.

  “Guild Master Raiyo. To what do I owe the—”

  “Skip it,” Raiyo said. “I don’t need the formalities right now.”

  He stopped on the other side of the desk and looked at the old man directly.

  “Gallant is dead.”

  Grandolf went still.

  “They found him in the underworld. His head on his own blade.” Raiyo’s voice didn’t waver. “I want to know what you know about that boy.”

  Grandolf was quiet for a moment.

  “What did you want to know from Lars in the first place?” he said carefully.

  Raiyo exhaled.

  “The boy appeared out of nowhere. Found unconscious near a scarred feral gray in a restricted forest. No guild. No record. No explanation for how he survived.” He folded his arms. “He was an anomaly. I had Gallant observe him. When Osbin took him into the forest for serious training I told Gallant to find someone capable of staying hidden from Osbin’s detection.”

  He paused.

  “After that Gallant changed. I noticed it but I told myself it was the training. Then Osbin died and Gallant became someone I didn’t recognize. The observer never reported back. Gallant went missing. One of my scouts tracked him to the underworld.” He looked at Grandolf. “And now he’s dead.”

  The archives were very quiet.

  Grandolf pressed his fingers together slowly.

  “So many threads,” he murmured to himself. Then louder — “The observer Gallant hired. You believe they were from the underworld?”

  “Who else could hide from an S Rank’s detection.”

  Grandolf stroked his beard slowly. His eyes moved somewhere distant, turning pieces over that Raiyo couldn’t see.

  Raiyo leaned forward.

  “Tell me what you know about that boy Grandolf. I mean it. Ever since Lars arrived at my guild there has been nothing but grief. I want to know what he is.”

  Grandolf looked at him for a long moment.

  Then he said it.

  “The boy is a Dragon Slayer.”

  The words cut through everything in the room.

  Raiyo didn’t move.

  Grandolf continued before he could.

  “Based on everything I’ve gathered I am almost certain of it.”

  Raiyo straightened slowly.

  “Then he did kill Osbin,” he said. His voice was quiet. Sounding confident.

  Grandolf stroked his beard.

  “I don’t believe the boy is capable of purposely hurting others,” he said.

  Raiyo’s eyes hardened. That was not the answer he had come here for.

  “There is still much about him I don’t fully understand,” Grandolf continued. “But what I believe him to be — I’m certain of that.”

  He folded his hands on the desk.

  “As for Gallant — whoever he hired from the underworld to observe Lars and Osbin never left that arrangement cleanly. There is far more to Osbin’s death than what the official account states. And now Gallant.”

  He paused.

  “Not just anyone could take down two S Rank warriors. Someone has been pulling strings in the background since before any of this began.” He looked at Raiyo directly. “I believe the Eternal Dusk Sovereigns are involved. Directly.”

  “Those damn demons,” Raiyo said through his teeth.

  “The Eternal Dusk are more than capable of orchestrating the death of an S Rank adventurer,” Grandolf said. “Possibly two.”

  Raiyo’s face shifted. The anger was still there but underneath it something else had crept in. Something heavier.

  He stood with it for a moment.

  “I want to go to war with the underworld,” he said. “I can’t sit back and watch them operate after losing two of my people. I won’t.”

  Grandolf said nothing.

  “I know you’re past your time,” Raiyo continued. His voice dropped slightly. “But you’re a Dragon Slayer Grandolf. From Solaris. If anyone could—”

  “I am past the point of combat,” Grandolf said quietly.

  “Grandolf—”

  “Raiyo.”

  The old man’s voice was steady. Not dismissive. Just firm.

  Raiyo stopped.

  He stood there in the quiet of the archives with two dead guild members behind him and nowhere to put the anger that had been carrying him since he opened that bag.

  And then it left him.

  All at once.

  His shoulders dropped. His face changed. The grief that the anger had been covering came through and there was nothing left to stop it.

  He pressed a hand over his eyes.

  “I failed them,” he said. His voice was rough. “Both of them. They were my responsibility and I failed them.”

  Grandolf rose slowly from his chair and walked around the desk. He placed a hand on Raiyo’s shoulder and stood there without speaking for a moment.

  “There is much that still needs to be done,” he said finally. “And you are still standing. That matters.”

  Raiyo didn’t respond.

  “Give Gallant a proper burial,” Grandolf said. “Honor him the way he deserves. Then we will deal with everything else. I will begin working on a plan to address the Eternal Dusk. You have my word.”

  Raiyo wiped his face slowly.

  He stood straight again. It took effort.

  He looked at Grandolf once more then turned and walked back through the archives toward the door.

  Grandolf watched him go.

  Then turned back to his desk and sat down slowly.

  He stared at the surface in front of him for a long time.

  The Eternal Dusk. A Dragon Slayer walking through Zahara without knowing what he was. Two S Rank warriors dead.

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