Belial straightened and glanced at the figure again. Something tugged at the edge of his memory. The face was familiar. Then it clicked. This was the person who had saved him from the innkeeper's scam, the one who had stepped in without hesitation, without expectation.
"Hey…we met before, right?" Xin began, scratching the back of his neck. "At the inn. I never got your name…"
"Belial…just call me Bel," the stranger replied, his tone casual but measured.
"That's an odd name…But thanks for that," Xin said with a faint smile, recalling the sharp relief he had felt that day.
Belial tilted his head, eyes scanning the area. "Xin, right? You know what all this is about?" He gestured toward the cyborg, the metal monstrosity that had caused so much chaos.
"That is…just unfinished business," Xin said, narrowing his eyes at the wreckage.
"Shady business that requires missiles?" Belial's brow quirked, a hint of incredulity in his voice.
"My benefactor…we're…not on speaking terms," Xin mumbled, almost under his breath. He gestured toward the broken street. "Come on." They stepped outside, the morning sun cutting through the haze of smoke and debris.
The inn was gone. Ruins smoldered where the building had once stood. But, miraculously, everyone appeared to be safe. Xin's expression softened as he surveyed the survivors, checking quickly that no one had been gravely hurt.
Belial, scanning the rubble, found his belongings scattered but mostly intact. "Looks like I'll have to dig through this mess," he muttered, bending to retrieve his things.
"I need to find a guild," Xin said abruptly. "Money's tight, and…" he hesitated, "it's just easier. Guilds provide you with ID, connections. Everything you need to get moving in this city...Unless you want to go with immigration which i doubt you'd do since you're also an Emergent"
Belial's eyebrows rose. "ID, huh? That's convenient."
Xin shrugged, his tone casual, but his eyes betrayed the weight of necessity. "We can look together. You need the ID; I need the work. We're…aligned for now."
They walked past the smoldering inn, surveying the surrounding streets. Xin paused. "If you want, you can stay with me for now. The inn you were in got destroyed. Everything else nearby is expensive. Chain hotels…guild district rates…almost fifty minutes by cab from here."
Belial considered it, his gaze scanning the bustling streets. Guilds lined the avenue, their signs glinting in the sun. The Luminary Guild, impressive but stiff with rank and status. Others promised adventure, but demanded skill, reputation, or coin upfront. Some were flashy, almost theatrical in their hierarchy.
"How about this," Belial said, voice low but firm. "I'll handle whatever mess you're working on. When the guild pays out, I'll use my share to cover the debt hanging over you. In return, let me stay at your place until I'm back on my feet."
"You heard about that?" Xin's voice cracked with surprise. His hand drifted to the back of his neck, rubbing it as if he could erase the memory. "That's so embarrassing."
Belial leaned against the edge of a broken post, his expression unreadable. "It's not a bad deal,"
Xin added after a moment, his tone softening. "Do you want to draw up a contract to cement it?"
Belial shook his head slowly, eyes steady on Xin. "No. Real relationships don't need chains." His voice dropped, quiet but certain. "Besides, you can tell me all the details later."
Besides i'd always wanted a roommate, a companion?...having a friend would be overstepping a huge risk to my identity...
Xin blinked at him. For a heartbeat the noise of the street faded. Then his lips curved into a smile, small at first, then warm enough to cut through the tension. It lit his face in a way that made him look mythical, more fictional than real. The green of his eyes caught the sunlight, bright as polished glass.
Xin gestured to a modest building with a simple insignia. "Somewhere in the middle. Not too flashy, not too stuffy. Guilds care about rank and prestige, sure, but we'll find one that suits our…circumstances."
Belial nodded, letting his eyes wander. There was a strange excitement in this chaotic city, among the ruined streets and guild banners waving in the breeze. He smirked. "This should be…fun."
Xin chuckled. "Fun? You're about to see how guilds really operate."
Together, they moved down the avenue, stepping around debris, past merchants, past guild halls of all shapes and sizes. The city was alive, chaotic, and full of opportunity. Belial felt a thrill he hadn't expected—like stepping onto a stage whose script hadn't been written yet.
...
Belial kicked a pebble, sending it skittering into a smelly gutter." you believe this? Not even a second glance!"
Xin's shoulders were slumped, but his voice had a quiet resolve. " I know. Its discouraging. But we cant let this setback stop us."
Belial shot him a skeptical glance. "With what? We have nothing to offer."
"You're wrong," Xin said, his eyes burning with a subtle fire. "we have grit. Willing to risk everything. Somewhere out there, a guild will see that in us."
Okay i don't know about 'Everything' But lets hope Xin's right.
Belial sighed...then gave a faint smile. "You're naive, you know that?"
"Takes one to know one"
They kept walking, dusk embodying silva city like a mothers warmth. Somewhere along the way, their conversation softened...drifting toward stories about past concerts and some embarrassing memories. Xin never finished his stories and Belial kept most of his stories Obscure.
But it was then when thy saw it.
The Crimson Phoenix Guild.
The building loomed above them, a slab of stone and shadow. A massive crimson phoenix sprawled across the façade, wings flaring upward, flames carved into the stone so deep they seemed to burn.
Belial stopped at the open doors, their iron hinges taller than two men. He glanced at Xin, then gave a short nod.
A cold sweat went down Xin's spine. He had stayed clear of this guild for good reason. It welcomed killers, thieves, and every shade of criminal who could pay the fee or survive the tests. But no other guild would take them—a nameless stranger and a debtor tied to a shadowy organization.... This was their only way in.
"All right," he said squaring his shoulders. "Lets do it."
The moment Belial and Xin stepped inside the guild hall's Great doors they were promptly bashed with every sound imaginable, Unlike the other guilds it had a Circular tavern in the middle with tables surrounding it. Laughter and jolly chatter, joined with drunkards clunking their bottles. The guild had an energetic and chaotic atmosphere, The large room was a hive of hunters of varying shapes ad sizes, eyes jumping from conversation to conversation.
Their entrance had not gone unnoticed, a cluster of harden hunters was glaring at them from a distance but they chose to not notice them.
This guild was known for accepting criminals and convicts, A dangerous place to say the least.
Belial cast an unreadable glance Xin's way. "We got this, what could go wrong?" he said, though he wasn't so sure himself.
Xin couldn't hep but admire the bravery of Belial, who was willing to walk this menacing guild.
When they crossed the circular bar they saw the receptionist table on the other end of the room , A xin neared the receptionist desk, he struggled to keep his voice even. "Excuse me ma'am—Were looking to join the guild."
The receptionist sized them up for a moment, her eyes settling on them dangerously. It seemed that her Green eyes that could pierce ones soul.
"If you want to join, then first you must sign these terms and agreements," said the stunningly threatening receptionist. "Next, you need to demonstrate that you can actually perform the work we require. For that, you're going to need five gold pieces, one hundred ears from orcs or goblins, and a test, of course. We can't have just anyone getting in here and going rogue on us. That would be bad for business. So, what do you say?"
She sweetly smiled, but her tone was anything but. Belial noted the mole on her cheek, just near her lips, and took in the top bun of hair he had never seen being worn that way.
Why was her hair tied tightly in a top bun? It wasn't a style that lent itself to a good work environment. Wasn't she allowed to have an office with central air? It was a technique for keeping hair off one's neck in summer. Yet she was wearing a fitted pencil skirt and a button-down shirt that was not at all tousled. If she'd been having a good hair day, was the top bun part of some good hair day record she was setting?
Belial regarded Xin with a still face. "This is something we can do," he said, and his voice was as even as can be.
Xin acknowledged, with barely restrained admiration, that Belial's manner of presentation had a way of turning the potential for disaster into something that sounded not just possible but eminently sensible.
On the evening they headed to Xin's apartment for a last final preparatory round, the streets of Silva City were dark. The city was silent, and yet the air felt pregnant with some sort of veil.
Belial swung his katana over his shoulder and packed rations that were light. Xin, in the meantime, grunted as he wrestled a huge, stupid axe out of the corner—an axe that was almost as tall as he was.
Belial lifted an eyebrow. "That ting looks heavy, Can you even fight with that?" He asked incredulously.
Grinning, Xin said, "More than enough," and threw it over his shoulder.
Belial looked at the thick, ungainly weapon in front of him. He had seen many strange tools of warfare in his time, but something about Xin's axe bothered him. It was as if the weapon were semiconscious, unable, for now, to do what it was made to do.
"What do you make of it?" Xin raised an eyebrow.
"Uh...It's a weapon alright..,"
Xin's gaze remained steady and sure.
They took an east-bound, late-night train to the Outlands. At first, the journey was a quiet one—until it was finally made not-so-quiet by Belial.
"What's this Organization really about?"
Xin's look soured. His voice became somber.
"Let's just say... we aren't friends He is known as the kingpin. When I ceased to work with him, he offered me a parting gift. He said he would cheerfully finance my attempts to take the music world by storm, so long as I fed him intel on the people I was working with. He can be your number-one helper or, as long as you play the tune he wants. But if you don't march in step... He doesn't just rain on your parade. He makes you and the parade disappear."
Belial sat quietly, watching his friend. For the first time, he saw something brittle beneath Xin's confidence. This mission was one of survival and money.
The train screeched to a stop, and the two of them stepped out into Gregon Forest. The air, sweet with pine, became dense, and as they walked deeper into the forest, the noise around them grew, a thousand whispers rising to shout.
Not one orc in sight; but it was deceitful silence.
Xin's eyes swept the trees, his gut churning. Belial moved like a pro, each step copied exactly in the all-too-familiar timing of a human watchman. Neither of them found it necessary to talk. Both of them felt it, anyway, something was watching.
Then arrived at the forest.
It cleaved the night air like a bolt from the blue. Xin felt a twitch of fear and scrambled for his axe. Another bellow came next—sounded like it was right on top of them.
"Those are the targets," Xin whispered.