The Guild Hall looked even worse than the day before.
Ash stood at the edge of the lane, watching as a trader hauled a sack of grain through the front doors and kicked them shut with one boot. The building groaned.
Tin roof. Stone frame. One chimney puffing half-hearted smoke into the cold morning air. Someone had carved "HELP WANTED NO DEVINE!" into the side beam with a nail.
Elira hovered behind him, chewing the end of a sweetroot stick like it owed her something. "Well," she muttered, "at least they're consistent."
Ash stepped forward.
The interior was warmer than expected. Dim, cluttered, vaguely hostile. A long stone hearth glowed at the far wall, barely keeping up with the draft slipping in through the roof. The floorboards creaked — not because they were old, but because they had stories.
Wooden beams overhead were nailed with copper tokens and faded contract sheets. A side alcove held a rusted spear rack, half-full. A paper board listed open requests in jagged handwriting: "LOST GOAT," "RUIN RATS," "SOMETHING'S IN THE WELL – AGAIN."
At least ten people milled around the room — a mix of scruffy hunters, scavengers, and desperate merchants. Most ignored them.
Ash clocked two exits, three unarmed civilians, and one man near the back with a crossbow leaning against his leg. Unloaded. Probably.
Behind the main desk stood a woman with cropped ash-blonde hair, a jagged scar across her left eyebrow, and the permanent scowl of someone who'd seen every type of mistake twice. She didn't look up when they entered. Just kept writing.
Next to her, a much younger man — lean, nervously energetic, maybe early twenties — was stacking metal tokens into a locked box with both hands like they might explode if touched wrong.
Ash approached the desk.
The scarred woman finally looked up. Her voice was dry gravel.
"You're not from here are you?."
Ash didn't answer.
Elira smiled brightly. "Wow, what gave it away? Was it the bare feet or his look?"
The woman arched an eyebrow. "Both."
The younger man gave a slightly too-eager nod. "You here to register?"
Ash nodded once.
The woman gestured at a clipboard. "Name. Status. Reason for work. We don't need your life story, just enough to write on the report if you die badly."
Elira picked up the pen. "Oooh, quill type B. Bureau classic."
The woman ignored her.
Ash filled it in quickly. No details. Just "Ash" under name. "Unranked" under status. "Survival" under reason.
The woman read it, then looked at him like she was waiting for something.
Ash didn't blink.
"Elira," she added cheerfully, pointing at herself. "Unranked. Also survival. Possibly tea, if I can manifest some."
The younger man — Nilo, based on the badge half-tied to his collar — coughed awkwardly. "Um. I can handle the scan if you want, Marla."
Marla gave a short nod. "Don't burn it this time."
Nilo shuffled off toward the side room and waved them after him. Ash followed. Elira hummed a half-forgotten hymn under her breath as they stepped through the curtain.
The scan room was smaller than Ash expected — one table, two chairs, and a pedestal at the far wall with a relic set into it. The Sigil Mirror.
It was oval, about half a meter tall, set in a frame of blackened iron and cracked bone. The surface shimmered faintly — not like glass, but like disturbed water trying to reflect something it couldn't fully understand.
Nilo cleared his throat. "This is the scan room. Just standard protocol. The mirror reads your base flow and shows any awakened belief traits. No divine traits, obviously. Not that you'd have those they are also forbidden by law fun fact."
Elira coughed too hard.
Nilo frowned. "If you've awakened a belief-based skill, it'll show. Otherwise just base stats. The mirror's old, but still accurate. Mostly."
Ash said nothing. Just stepped forward.
Ash stepped forward.
The Sigil Mirror didn't hum, didn't glow. It just pulsed once — faintly, like a sigh — as his hand brushed the iron ring at its base.
Then it activated.
A ripple passed through the surface. Lines shimmered upward in faint script — clean, measured, standardized.
[SCAN COMPLETE]
Designation: Ash
Title: None
Status: Unranked
Strength: 5.2
Agility: 8.1
Magic: 1.4
Belief Skill Detected: [Combat Reflex]
Nilo squinted. "Huh. That's… high agility for a scan of somebody without a status or title."
Ash didn't react like always.
Elira exhaled — relief, but tight. Her eyes flicked over the Mirror, then froze.
Another line had begun to form below the first skill.
Not a name. Not even language.
Just symbols. Broken glyphs. A short flicker of incomprehensible characters — like someone tried to write in a forgotten tongue with a dying pen.
Then the Mirror buzzed, high-pitched and soft. A hairline crack glowed faintly across the glass before fading.
Nilo stepped back. "Uh… that's… probably nothing. This unit's old. Sometimes the cracked Mirrors try to read traits that dont exist and short out."
Elira's laugh came too quickly. "Yes! That! Plane shift turbulence. Planar static. Seen it a hundred times. Classic mirror hiccup."
Nilo nodded, nervous. "Right. That makes sense."
Ash just stared at the Mirror.
Elira stepped forward, voice still too light. "But it did pick up a skill. [Combat Reflex]. That's great, right?"
Nilo brightened a bit. "Yeah! That's a rare one. Usually only seen in veteran scouts or survivalists. People with fast response instincts. You must've trained a lot."
Ash didn't answer. He was still watching the frame.
It pulsed again. Just once. Barely visible.
He pulled his hand away.
Nilo reached out and flicked the latch beneath the relic. The glow dimmed. The room cooled.
"Nilo cleared his throat. "Uh, and… your companion too?"
Elira straightened, smiling too quickly. "Oh, no need! I'm unmarked."
She held up her wrist. A faint silver-ink sigil glimmered there — not a true Sigil, but a stamped Bureau seal. Half-faded, clean-edged. Legitimate enough.
"Administrative class. Soul classification A6. Noncombatant designation under divine logistics. No flow pattern. I'd just confuse the Mirror."
Nilo blinked. "A6? That's… rare."
Elira nodded solemnly. "Cataloged under provisional support code. It's mostly for staff who handle thread routing or relic sorting. You don't want me lighting that thing up — last time, a minor shrine caught fire. And a duck exploded."
Nilo hesitated.
From the front room, Marla's voice called dryly:
"Just give them a copper coin and be done with it."
Elira smiled too brightly. "Exactly! Safety first."
Nilo shrugged. "Alright. I mean… if you're A6…. No need for a reading."
Ash didn't say anything.
But as Elira turned away, Ash caught a flicker of tension in her smile.
Not lying exactly.
Just bureaucratic truth used like a blade.
"Well!" he said. "That concludes your scan. Welcome to the Hearthmere Guild. You're now officially Unranked members. Which means… no dangerous jobs until you've proven you won't die on a mushroom run."
Ash raised an eyebrow.
Mushroom runs are surprisingly lethal," Elira whispered.
Nilo handed them each a small copper token — engraved crudely with the Hearthmere emblem: a cracked tower surrounded by broken wheat.
"You'll need these for contract submissions," Nilo said. "Turn them in with reports. Bring proof if it's a creature kill — claws, sigil stones, whatever's left."
Ash pocketed his silently.
Elira spun hers once between her fingers, then slid it into her sleeve.
Nilo hesitated. "You… uh… you do have a place to stay, right?"
"No. We haven't secured a base of operations yet." Ash said.
"Oh."
Marla's voice cut through the curtain from the front room. "If they're alive by tomorrow, send them on rat duty."
Nilo winced. "That's probably your first quest."
Elira groaned. "I hate rats."
"You've never fought one. Dont act like you have." Ash said flat.
"I've fought conceptual rats."
Nilo opened the curtain halfway. "Marla means well. She just doesn't like—"
"Outsiders?" Ash said.
Nilo paused. "…People."
Elira gave a brittle smile. "Same thing."
They stepped out of the scan room and back into the hall. The crowd had thinned — just a few locals hovering by the board now.
Ash walked past them without a glance.
Elira lingered for a moment, looking back at the Mirror through the half-drawn curtain.
It pulsed again.
Just once.
She caught up to Ash quickly.
Outside, the light had shifted.
Not sunset — just the flat, grey stillness of late afternoon in a town that didn't expect anything better. Hearthmere's streets had thinned. Most of the traders were packing up. Smoke curled low from chimneys. Ash counted the visible torches being lit: nine. One less than optimal coverage.
They crossed the street in silence.
Elira had stopped chewing her sweetroot. Her hands were tucked into her sleeves now, eyes still flicking back toward the Guild.
Ash didn't speak. He was already scanning rooftops, mapping lanes, watching how the crowd moved. The kind of walking that wasn't about direction — just survival.
Behind them, the Guild Hall door swung shut.
Inside, in the dimness of the front desk, Marla Thornhold leaned back in her chair and stared at the inactive Mirror through the open curtain.
It pulsed again.
Very faintly.
Nilo didn't notice. He was halfway through re-sorting bounty tokens.
Marla frowned.
"That wasn't planar drift," she muttered.
They found a place two streets off the main road — a barn loft, empty except for hay bales and an old lantern. Elira traded a charm against nightmares to the owner, who laughed and said it probably wouldn't work but took it anyway.
Ash checked the ladder, the roof beams, the exits.
It was dry. It had cover. It would do.
They didn't talk much while settling in. Elira curled into her cloak near the far wall. She finally had boots on. Ash sat near the door with his back against the wood, arms crossed,
Eventually, Elira broke the silence.
"…You okay?"
Ash didn't answer right away.
Then: "That Mirror. It saw something else."
"I know."
"But didn't see it complete."
"I know that too."
He glanced at her. "Why couldn't i?"
Elira looked down at her hands.
"Because it wasn't allowed."
Ash nodded once, slowly. Then closed his eyes.
The wind outside picked up.
Ash shifted slightly, eyes still closed, but listening.
Inside the Guild, the Mirror sat dark and still.
Until—
It pulsed.
Once.
Twice.
Faint.
But this time, something responded.
Not light. Not sound.
Just a shimmer beneath the surface — like a breath held underwater.
Then nothing.
Back in the loft, Ash opened his eyes.
"Elira," he said quietly.
She stirred. "Mm?"
"If the gods aren't watching this place…"
He paused. A long beat.
"…then who is?"