Seth woke stiff, sore, and colder than any blanket would have allowed. His back ached, and his ribs protested with every breath. The world was already moving. The shouts of vendors, the rumble of carts, the clang of bells. Morning in the Sanguine City came loud and without mercy.
He pushed himself upright with a groan, brushing grime from his clothes. It didn't help. He smelled like old blood and mold. No coin, no food, no bath, and no idea what day it was.
But he had a mind and a plan. He needed money.
The first shop he tried was a bakery. A man with flour-stained hands wrinkled his nose the moment Seth walked in.
"No," the man said, before Seth could even speak.
"Do you need hel—?"
"No. Get out."
The next three weren't much better. A stablehand laughed and pointed to the nearest gutter. A tailor told him he was scaring away paying customers. One guard suggested he "try the sewers."
By midday, Seth sat on the edge of a fountain, dripping with rejection and barely any water. He stared into the murky pool beneath him and caught sight of his reflection.
Gaunt face. Tangled hair. Dirt-caked skin. Torn clothes.
He looked like a corpse that got lost on its way to the grave.
But, he noticed, he also looked like he was in his teens again. Maybe he was either sixteen or seventeen...
"Hey, you want coin?" a passing vendor called, half-mocking. "You look young enough, go throw your life away like the rest, join the adventurers' guild."
The words stuck.
Adventurers. A vague concept he'd heard mainly from mainstream media back home, which he was never concerned about: fighters, mages, mercenaries — people who took jobs too dangerous for regular folk. Paid by the guild. Disposable.
He wasn't a fighter, mage, or mercenary in these people's eyes, but he sure was disposable.
Exactly what this city needed him to be.
He followed the directions past the market square and up a winding slope toward a building of reinforced stone and ironwood. Above the doorway, a rusted crest read:
VIREMONT ADVENTURERS' GUILD
Inside, the noise dropped. Conversations slowed. Eyes turned.
Seth didn't even make it past the threshold before someone muttered, "Gods, what crawled in here?"
He tried not to shrink under the weight of their stares — men and women with polished armor, enchanted weapons, fresh clothes. Most of them were older than him. All of them were far better off.
Behind the front counter stood a woman with a clipboard and a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Her uniform was crisp, hair tied back in a neat braid, eyes the pale blue of melted glass. Her nametag simply read:
"Lyra"
She inhaled to greet him—then immediately winced.
"...Can I help you?" she said, one eyebrow twitching upward.
"I want to register," Seth replied evenly, ignoring the whispers behind him.
"For… adventuring?"
He nodded.
There was a pause. She reached under the counter, rummaged through a drawer, and pulled out a crumpled parchment.
"This is a beginner quest. No one else wanted it. If you come back, the guild'll give you two bronze. If you don't come back…" she shrugged. "Less paperwork."
He took the paper. No farewell. No encouragement. Not even a pen to sign.
The job was simple on paper:
Request: Collect 5 bundles of Gravebloom, a pale herb found in the Viremont woods.Reward: 2 bronze. No bonus for extra.Urgency: Low.
Seth traced the words with his finger. Gravebloom. Viremont woods.
"Should be fun," he muttered.