By the time the plates were cleared, the others were already rising from their seats. Gareth left a few Gil on the table, adjusting his cloak.
"We'll be heading east at dawn," he said. "Take care of yourself, Kaito Mercer. You've got sharp instincts—use them."
Kaito stood and offered his hand.
"Appreciate the grub and the company. Y'all keep your heads low and your swords sharp."
Lyra's bow rested over her shoulder; she gave a single nod.
"May the winds favor your road."
Even Tobin managed a small wave.
"Good luck, mister!"
And then they were gone—boots fading down the street, swallowed by the noise of Rivershade.
Kaito watched the door swing shut, then exhaled through his nose.
"Well, that's that. Time to see what kinda work a fella can find around here."
Outside, the streets glowed with the last of the lantern light. He asked around, following directions until he stood before a large timber building topped with a carved emblem of crossed blades and a sunburst—the Adventurers' Guild.
Inside, the place was alive with voices: armor clinking, laughter, and the smell of oil and ale. A massive board lined one wall, covered in parchment notices. Behind a counter stood a woman with silver-streaked hair, spectacles perched on her nose, and a professional smile.
"Welcome to the Rivershade Guild Hall," she said. "Seeking registration?"
"Yes, ma'am," Kaito replied. "Figured I'd put these hands back to work."
She slid a crystal plate across the counter.
"Place your palm here. The crystal reads your spirit and measures aptitude. It will determine your initial rank."
Kaito pressed his hand down. The stone pulsed blue, then gold. Gasps rippled from nearby tables. The attendant's brows lifted.
"Remarkable. B-Rank potential, straightaway."
He scratched his neck, half-embarrassed.
"Guess all those push-ups finally paid off."
She handed him a thin bronze tag etched with his name.
"You're free to take any quest B-Rank or lower. Be aware, however, new registrants often begin small to build rapport and funds."
"That's the plan," he said. "Ain't got the coin for fancy armor yet."
He moved to the quest board. Most papers described monster hunts or escort missions paying more than he had reason to risk. Near the bottom, he found one marked with a simple seal:
Quest: Clear out a pack of mire-rats nesting near the western grain storage.
Rank: F
Reward: 10 small copper Gil.
He smirked.
"Vermin control. Lovely. Guess every empire starts with a broom."
Tugging the paper free, he brought it to the counter.
"I'll take this one."
The clerk stamped it.
"Report back before sundown tomorrow."
"Yes, ma'am."
He slipped the notice into his pouch and headed for the door. The night air was cool, the moon hanging like a pale coin above the rooftops. His boots clicked against the cobbles as he made for the edge of town.
"Alright, Mercer," he muttered. "Time to earn some pocket change and see what passes for wildlife 'round here."