The city was stirring with a peculiar, buzzing excitement. Brightly colored banners, faded from seasons past, were already being hung across the main streets, and stalls were being erected in every available space in anticipation of the upcoming festival. Word had spread like wildfire: the Saintess, Adela, would grace their humble city in just two weeks' time. Even a fleeting glimpse of her was said to bring blessings, prosperity, or at the very least, a fragile kind of hope. The children buzzed with uncontainable energy, and Seres tried to smile along with their chatter, but beneath the surface, her thoughts were heavy with the weight of practical responsibility.
This influx of travelers—adventurers seeking glory, merchants chasing profit, even nobles traveling in guarded caravans—meant something else as well: prices would soar. Seres had seen it happen before. The cost of bread would double, firewood would become a scarce luxury, and a family without proper stores could easily struggle through the coming winter. She pressed her lips into a thin line, mentally tallying their current coin and meager supplies. Even with the necessary expenses—the cloak for Ardyn, the bakery trip, the salt and herbs—their funds had already been thinned to a dangerous level.
The children, of course, cared for none of this economic reality. They tugged at Seres's sleeves, their voices a chorus of pleas to see the grand parade. Even Ardyn, usually so reserved, watched the preparations with quiet curiosity and offered a nod of agreement. He had never seen a "Saintess" before, and the idea of someone being so universally beloved simply for existing unsettled him—but it also pulled at him, a mystery he felt compelled to understand. Watching their eager, hopeful faces, Seres couldn't bring herself to deny them the simple joy. But in the back of her mind, she knew that survival meant thinking ahead, not just savoring the present moment.
That night, by the low embers of the hearth, Seres quietly confided her worries to the silence. "Winter will bite harder this year," she murmured to herself. The stacks of firewood were modest, too modest. The grain sack was enough for a few weeks, but not for the long, cold months. And with her usual work at the guild, the safer, simpler tasks would not cover the skyrocketing costs in time. Her eyes drifted over to where the children slept soundly, then to Ardyn, who sat across from her, sharpening a knife with a focus that came from deep instinct, not memory.
It was Ardyn who broke the heavy silence. "I should join the guild." His voice was calm, almost casual, as if commenting on the weather, but there was a solid weight of decision behind it. Seres looked up at him, startled by the sudden declaration. He continued, not meeting her eyes but staring into the fire. "If I'm to find out who I was… someone might know me there. My face might be recognized." He finally glanced toward the sleeping children, a softness touching his usually sharp features. "And more than that—I can help provide. You shouldn't carry this burden alone."
Seres hesitated, her hands stilling in her lap. The guild was a brutal, unforgiving place for the inexperienced, and Ardyn, despite his terrifyingly sharp instincts, lacked any formal training, proper equipment, and—most critically—his own memory. He was a weapon without a wielder, powerful but unpredictable. "It's dangerous," she whispered, the words filled with a protectiveness that had become second nature. But Ardyn's expression didn't waver; it was steady, resolved. "It's more dangerous to do nothing," he countered, his voice low but firm. "I may have lost myself, but I haven't lost the will to fight. Or to protect." His gaze was unwavering. "If it means these children won't starve, then I'll learn. I'll adapt." There was a conviction in his tone, a rare, clear fire that startled Seres into a thoughtful silence.
Finally, Seres exhaled a long, slow breath, the tension in her shoulders easing into reluctant acceptance. Perhaps she had been underestimating him—not his raw, unnerving skill, but the depth of his resolve. She looked at him, truly looked, and saw not just the confused, wounded stranger she had dragged from the snow, but someone who possessed a core of steadfast determination. Someone who could, with time and guidance, become a genuine part of their family's strength. "Then tomorrow," she said softly, the decision settling between them like a vow. "We'll go together. To the guild." Outside, the city's evening bells began to ring, their deep tones echoing through the cold night air, heralding both the Saintess's coming and the quiet, determined beginning of Ardyn's new path.
The guild halls of Velsharra
The chill of the early morning clung to the air, sharp and biting, as Seres and I walked the frost-laced road toward Velsharra. A thin, silver mist hung over the fields, and every blade of grass was edged in white. My new cloak hung heavy on my shoulders, the hood drawn low over my face. Each step reminded me of its weight—not just the fabric, but the shield it offered against the world's constant, curious stares. The fur-like trim around the collar kept the cold from seeping down my neck, and for that, I was deeply thankful. Seres walked beside me, her arms folded tightly across her chest for warmth, her usual calm a steady presence that seemed to cut through the mist itself. She had known this cold would come, had insisted on the cloak for exactly this reason.
"Once you have an Adventurer's Guild card," Seres said, her breath fogging in the crisp air like a ghost of words, "you won't need to pay the city toll anymore. You'll be recognized." I tilted my head, curiosity tugging at me from beneath the hood. "Then why didn't you ever get one?" My voice was muffled by the thick fabric, but she caught the question easily. Before she answered, her gaze fixed ahead on the road winding toward the city.
"At first, it was just Ethan and Mia with me," she began, her voice low and even. "Sometimes Finel stopped by, brought supplies, but even he was still a rookie then, finding his way. We didn't have the strength—or the freedom—to respond to sudden guild calls." She glanced toward the horizon, where the sun was beginning to bleed light into the grey sky. "The guild expects adventurers to answer when dire emergencies strike. Monsters at the walls, bandit raids, magical surges… If I tied myself to that life, I couldn't risk leaving the children alone for days, maybe longer. But…" She gave a small, almost imperceptible shrug. "The children are older now. Stronger. Even before meeting you, I had planned to join this year."
"Fifteen is the legal age," she continued, her tone shifting back to its matter-of-fact practicality. "You can lie, sure—plenty try. But if they catch you, your license gets revoked. Sometimes there's a temporary ban from all guild services. Sometimes they just refuse you entirely, mark you as unreliable." My hand brushed the edge of my cloak as she spoke, the rough texture of the dyed rabbit pelt familiar under my fingers. The irony of it struck me—here I was, hiding my face from every passerby, yet soon I would be volunteering to step into the open, to be registered, to be known. The thought was unsettling.
The city gates rose before us, tall stone walls etched with time and recent banners hung in preparation for the Saintess's arrival. They depicted a stylized sun, the symbol of Amaterasu, woven with threads of gold that caught the weak morning light. Beyond them, Velsharra stirred with a frantic, festival energy I had never witnessed before. The usual orderly bustle was gone, replaced by a chaotic swell of life. Inns were already filling, their signs proclaiming No Vacancy, and the streets bustled with a volume that felt aggressive, overwhelming. Brightly colored ribbons and carved wooden charms dangled from every shopfront and stall, meant to ward off bad fortune and invite the Saintess's blessings.
Seres, however, walked through the chaos unbothered, her steps sure and her expression calm. "Because we're so far north," she explained, her voice cutting through the din, "we don't usually see crowds like this. Only adventurers on special assignments, those resistant to the cold, or fire mages who laugh at snow ever venture this way in winter." She gave me a side glance, her pale eyes knowing. "Now, it's different. Everyone wants a glimpse of the Saintess. Her visit has drawn them from warmer lands, from softer lives."
The Adventurer's Guild doors creaked open as Seres and I stepped inside. The air within was quieter than I had expected, almost hushed. Only a few low voices murmured in the far corners of the hall, most of the chairs stood empty, and the noticeboards were nearly bare, stripped of quests. At the front desk, Katherine adjusted the crisp collar of her uniform apron, handing over a thick ledger to a tall, thin man with tired eyes as they completed their shift change.
"Oh?" Katherine blinked in surprise at the sight of Seres, her professional smile softening into something more genuine. "Strange to see the hall this empty, isn't it? That's the Saintess effect for you. With her passing through soon, the city guard is stretched thin. The Guild's offering premium pay for security and escort details. Most of our regulars are already out on assignment." She brushed a stray strand of auburn hair from her face, then smiled lightly. "So, Seres—here to sell medicine again? Or maybe looking for a small task that hasn't been snatched up?"
Seres straightened her posture, her voice calm and deliberate. "No. I'm here to register myself and… him." She tilted her head slightly toward where I stood slightly behind her. Katherine blinked, her expression shifting to one of confusion. Her eyes scanned past Seres, not immediately registering my presence in the deep shadow of my hood. For a brief moment, she had assumed Seres had come alone.
I lifted my hand, hesitated for a heartbeat, then pulled the hood back. "Good morning, Katherine," I said softly, the words feeling foreign but necessary. Her eyes widened, pure surprise written plain across her features. "Ardyn? You were behind that hood this whole time?" Her shock lingered in the air between us before she consciously smoothed her expression back into one of professional composure. "Well… you'll always be welcome here. But your case is… certainly unusual."
Katherine pulled out two sheets of pristine parchment, setting them on the counter with a pair of sharpened quills placed neatly beside them. "Normally," she began, her tone shifting into official cadence, "all new adventurers begin at rank G. But Ardyn has already slain E and D rank beasts." She glanced at Seres for confirmation, receiving a slight nod, then looked back at me. "So he'll need to fill this out properly to reflect that." The form was lined with precise ink boxes, each labeled in a neat, bureaucratic script.
I leaned over the parchment, my brow furrowing. The letters swam before my eyes, their meanings just out of reach. "What… do I write for no?" I asked quietly, the question feeling foolish as soon as it left my lips.
Katherine looked up from her ledger, her expression patient. "Just write 'Null' for anything you don't have or don't know."
The words continued to blur together, a frustrating wall between me and the person I was supposed to be. Before my hesitation could stretch too long, Seres gently slid the form closer to herself. "Let me," she whispered, picking up the quill with practiced ease. She began filling the boxes, explaining each in a low voice as I listened, absorbing the details of this new identity.
Ardyn Veythar
Name: Ardyn Veythar
Gender: Male
Class: Swordsman
Magic Affinity: Fire, Water, Earth, Wind — null
Special Abilities: null
True Magic: null
Age: 15
Race: Human
Status/Health Notes: null
Kill Count / Beasts Hunted: Dire Wolves (E and D rank)
Favor Tokens: null
Expiration / Renewal: 4 Years
My eyes trailed across the form, lingering on terms I barely understood. True Magic? I mouthed the words silently, but said nothing aloud. My hand felt clumsy and unfamiliar gripping the quill when it was my turn to sign, but I carefully copied the letters Katherine pointed to, forming my name at the bottom.
Seres filled out her own form beside me with efficient strokes:
Seres Crone
Name: Seres Crone
Gender: Female
Class: Herbalist / Support
Magic Affinity: null
Special Abilities: null
True Magic: null
Age: 15
Race: Human
Status/Health Notes: null
Kill Count / Beasts Hunted: Horned Rabbits, assorted E rank monsters
Favor Tokens: Guild — Herbalist Contributions
Expiration / Renewal: 4 Years
Katherine straightened the stack of completed forms, her eyes glancing between the two of us with a mix of professionalism and faint curiosity. "Since you're registering for the Adventurer's Guild, our previous offer still stands—Ardyn, you are eligible to start as Rank E. After all, you've already slain multiple Rank E wolves and even a Rank D on your own. Normally, everyone begins at Rank G, but your record speaks for itself." She tapped the page with the tip of her quill. "Because you registered your class as Swordsman, you'll be required to undergo a physical examination—a formal duel against a designated guild examiner to test your combat ability and confirm your rank placement." She then turned to Seres, her voice softening slightly. "Seres, however, your herbalist experience and guild contributions are well-documented and respected. So you may just sit this out.