Morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the Guild Hall, bathing the polished stone floor in golden streaks. The scent of parchment, ink, and warm tea hung faintly in the air. Inigo and Lyra stood quietly outside Guildmaster Thorne's office, the ornate double doors before them bearing the silver-etched sigil of the Adventurer's Guild: a sword, a scroll, and a rising sun.
A clerk emerged from within, nodded once, and held the door open.
"Guildmaster Thorne will see you now."
Inigo and Lyra entered.
Thorne was already standing by the map table at the far end of the chamber, his back turned, hands clasped behind him. His cloak, embroidered with thread-of-gold, hung neatly across his shoulders. A small kettle steamed on the side table beside three porcelain cups. Without turning, he spoke.
"You stayed."
"We did," Inigo said.
Thorne turned and gave them a curt nod, his gray eyes sharp as ever.
"We've parted ways, for now," Lyra said gently.
