The city gates groaned as they opened, letting a caravan through at dawn. JP and Lyra followed, cloaks pulled tight, every step carrying the weight of unspoken tension.
Normally, this kind of trip would have included Garron, their gruff handler. But when JP had presented the "routine materials-gathering quest" paperwork the day before, the guild official had casually said: "Handler Garron has been reassigned for now. You two can manage this one yourselves."
The way the man had smirked when he stamped the parchment told JP everything—this wasn't generosity. It was permission. Permission for them to fail, or to vanish where no one would ask questions.
"Feels like a setup," Lyra muttered as the gates clanged shut behind them.
JP forced a grin, though sweat prickled his neck. "Nah. Just… good old-fashioned trust in our abilities! Ha-ha-ha."
Her glare told him even his laugh sounded guilty.
Freedom—or the Illusion of It
The open road stretched ahead, wide and sunlit, bordered by autumn trees. JP adjusted the cloak over his belt-satchel, every step reminding him of the guild's questions and the merchants' greedy eyes.
Without Garron's looming presence, the air felt freer. But it also felt exposed. No one to officially "report" their safety meant no one would notice if they didn't come back.
Lyra's eyes swept the tree line. "We're being given rope. Whether we use it for climbing… or hanging… depends on us."
JP gulped. "Comforting thought."
The Road Opens
To distract himself, JP scribbled notes while walking, nearly tripping over every third rock. "Okay, inventions for travel: portable kettle heater, lightning bug lantern, and maybe some kind of monster-repelling socks—"
"Monster socks?" Lyra raised a brow.
"Think about it," JP insisted. "No one likes sweaty feet. Not even monsters!"
For a fleeting moment, her lips twitched. Relief disguised as amusement.
Nightfall
They camped under an oak cluster that evening. JP fiddled with the firestarter until it sparked in his hand. A quick zap later, flames roared, nearly singeing his cloak.
"Efficient resource use," he said proudly.
Lyra shook her head, muttering, "One day you'll burn more than wood."
The campfire's glow softened their tense expressions. For the first time in weeks, no handler's shadow loomed over them, no guild official barked orders. Just two adventurers staring at the stars, daring to think of freedom.
But shadows still lingered. Somewhere behind them, on the road or in the woods, someone else might be watching.
JP leaned back and whispered, "Adventure, here we come. Maybe this time, we're actually free."
Lyra didn't answer. Her gaze stayed on the darkness beyond the firelight.