The adventurer’s guild was a lot louder than Rell expected.

  Posters covered every wall — jobs, bounties, trade routes, and too many missing persons notices.

  Rell stood silent in the center, the elf girl cloaked beside him, head low. The owl perched on his shoulder, watching the clerks move like clockwork.

  Rell’s thought: 'This many missing kids in one place… this ain't coincidence. This is organized. Back home, we called this trafficking.'

  His fist clenched. It was subtle — but the girl flinched.

  She hadn’t said a word since they’d escaped. Not even a thank you. Just that first whisper: 'Please.'

  The owl fluttered down to a nearby board.

  “Here,” she said, tapping a paper. “Her picture. That’s her. Name’s Lirah. She’s not local — says she’s from the Elarien Dominion.”

  Rell glanced at the emblem. A royal sunleaf seal. High forest nobility.

  They peeled the poster free, folding it gently. The owl spoke softly:

  “If we can get word back to her people, maybe—”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  *CLACK.*

  The front door opened. Boots stepped in — precise, confident, loud enough to stop casual conversation.

  Thessia walked in like she owned the place. And maybe she did.

  She was dressed in light battle gear, burnished leather with desert-cut trim. Her bronze-toned skin shone against the white and blue scarf looped at her neck. She had faint healing marks on her shoulder and knuckles — proud scars from the west. A curved blade hung low on her hip, pulsing with faint blue sigil light. People moved out of her way without being asked.

  She almost passed Rell at the exit — until she saw the paper in his hand. The missing notice. Lirah’s face.

  Then she saw the small, hooded figure beside him.

  “Cute,” Thessia said flatly. “You know harboring runaway property is a federal offense, right?”

  The owl flared her feathers.

  “She’s not property. And you know it.”

  Thessia ignored the owl and stared directly at Rell. He didn’t blink.

  “Hand her over. I don’t like hurting people who don’t deserve it.”

  Rell didn’t move.

  Thessia stepped forward. The elf girl tried to dart — but Thessia appeared in front of her like lightning.

  She reached down — hand outstretched to rip the cloak —

  *CLANG.*

  A sharp elbow caught her wrist mid-grab. The clap of impact cracked like lightning.

  Thessia pivoted and swung a roundhouse kick toward his ribs. Rell dropped, swept her legs, but she twisted midair, landing low.

  The entire room stopped. Half the adventurers backed up.

  Then—

  *BOOM.*

  Magic pressure filled the guild like a collapsing lung. It crushed the noise, bent the air. Everyone froze.

  A man walked out from the top floor. White robes. Gold-ringed staff. A scroll floated behind him without strings.

  The Guildmaster.

  “I’ll say this once,” he said, voice calm but cosmic. “Not in my house.”

  Even Thessia looked irritated, but she stepped back.

  Rell didn’t waste time. In the momentary release, he scooped up the elf girl and moved.

  Fast.

  Too fast.

  “There!” one of Thessia’s team shouted.

  Thessia growled, snapped the magic limiter on her gloves, and dumped raw power into her boots.

  Light exploded under her soles.

  “You’re not getting away again.”

  The chase began.