(Morning at the Forgehouse)
Dawn filters through the shutters, casting a warm, golden glow.
Kai is already awake, doing push-ups, squats, and breathing exercises. He washes, dons his sash, and feels the sun on his back. Outside, the city hums like a familiar engine.
He goes downstairs, expecting to meet the squad.
(Lobby)
The lobby smells of coffee and oil. Behind the counter, a tall man with a crisp vest and rolled-up sleeves smokes a thin cigar. He has a panther's head and human posture, with yellow eyes that have seen worse mornings.
Kai blinks. "Uh... good morning?"
The panther looks up smoothly, voice deep and steady. "Morning. You must be the stray."
"The... what?"
"Your squad left at first light. Captain Lockhart sent someone to pick you up. Try not to wander into a turbine."
Kai instinctively bows. "Thank you, Mr... uh... P."
The panther blinks slowly. "Ven."
"Right—Mr. P-Ven."
"Just Ven. V-E-N. Like 'very early now,' which it is."
"Got it, Mr. P."
A brief pause, then a tiny meow of disappointment. "Are you Rajistan mountain types usually this way?"
"Usually calmer," Kai replies. "First time meeting a panther... person. Your head is very aerodynamic."
Ven removes his cigar and considers it. "Appreciated. Your haircut is... indecisive."
Kai nods solemnly. "Fair."
The doors swing open, sunlight pouring in with a girl.
Hanami
Blonde ponytail, Big Boobs, bomber jacket, black shorts, boots—an easy grin. She carries a clipboard under one arm like a shield she'll never need.
"Yo! Stray monk?" she greets. "I'm Hanami—logistics, errands, chaos control. Captain says you try to be on time even when you're late."
Kai bows again. "I prefer Kai."
"Cool, Kai-who-prefers-Kai. Move it. The Talking Boar won't tour itself."
Ven taps ash into a gear-shaped tray. "Try not to bow to every person and thing. Last night, he bowed to the vending machine."
"It had incense," Kai says.
Hanami beckons. "C'mon, monk boy."
They head toward the door.
Ven calls after them without standing, "If a vendor named Tino offers you a 'third skewer,' refuse."
Kai asks, "What's wrong with the second?"
Ven responds, "It's strong."
"Noted!" Hanami laughs, shoulder-checking the door. "Thanks, Ven. Don't miss me too much."
"I won't," Ven replies, already pouring coffee.
Steam rises from grates. Cranes swing over the Iron Docks, glowing with tiny sigils. Students in sneakers and lab coats argue outside cafés. A drummer warms up on a corner; kids chase an aura-bubble that jukes their hands.
Kai's eyes drink everything in. "Why do those cranes glow?"
"Sigil joints," Hanami explains. "They prevent gusts from making them kiss a ship."
"What's that smell?"
"Janoahian bread—salt crust. Don't bite it hot; you'll cry openly."
"Why is that sign glowing with aura?"
"It's a tea shop. The owner's aura powers the signs here. Welcome to Magnara."
A cadet group spots them. "Iron team!" a kid yells. Sketch-slates fly out. "Is the Trial gonna be crazy?!"
Kai deftly deflects. "Study your forms, drink water, stay out of trouble."
Magnara stands as it always does—denim beside blades, saris beside hoodies, guild coats stitched with quiet sigils.
Therians—like Ven—are citizens here.
The Silent War changed some bloodlines; resonance changed and stayed changed. Janoah didn't flinch. It trained them, hired them, and integrated them into the team.
(Detour)
Hanami stops at a corner bathhouse. Steam drifts past a sign: HOT RINSE • COLD SHOCK • FAST SCRUB.
"You," she says to Kai. "You've been in recycled ship air for days. You're not meeting the Captain smelling like 'skyport sadness.'"
Kai looks at his sleeve. "I wiped with a wet cloth."
Her face says: absolutely not. "In."
"I—uh—we're on a schedule."
"In."
"Two minutes?"
"Monk boy, do not test me."
"...In."
Five minutes later, Kai emerges, towel over shoulders, damp hair, skin refreshed.
"Yay," he whispers seriously.
Hanami laughs so hard she grabs the doorframe. "Better. Now, when William looks at you, he won't see a dust sprite."
Order of the Crescent Halo (The Talking Boar)
They walk onto a wide lane lined with brick and warm brass lamps. A bronze boar's head hangs over double doors, tusks polished from celebratory slaps. Music and laughter drift from inside.
"That's William's guildhouse," Hanami says. "The Talking Boar. The guild itself is the Order of the Crescent Halo—half guildhouse, half bar, all headaches."
Kai looks up at the sign, then at the crowd. "Feels... alive."
"That's Janoah," she says. "We don't sleep. We recharge."
"Ground rules," Hanami adds at the threshold. "Don't touch the trophy wall. Don't arm-wrestle the dishwasher. If Pinto asks you to invest in a cannon, tell him you've already done it and run."
Kai nods solemnly. "I'll obey half of those."
The door swings open, warmth and noise washing over them like a welcome.
"Go on," Hanami urges. "Your captain's inside."
Kai takes a breath—Bodhira calm, city heartbeat—and steps into the light. Wonder swells; resolve follows.
(Upstairs)
The door opens softly.
William—white coat, pale-gold trim—enters with that easy smile that never quite hides how sharp his eyes are.
"First—sorry," he says with a wave of a hand. "We left you at the Forgehouse. You were sleeping like a saint, and I'm not cruel." Then beats a second. "I figured Hanami would get you here with minimal property damage."
Kai bows. "Thank you, Captain. I—uh—dreamed of rice."
"Excellent," William nods toward the window. "The team is already out—Aria and Rin are running supplies through Rings Four and Five. Lila's at home, grabbing kits and adjusting to being back. They'll meet here after lunch."
Hanami leans in the doorway, smirking. "See? I told you you weren't abandoned."
William places a folded cloth square on the table—a white, small crescent-halo crest stitched in one corner. The atmosphere feels steadier.
"Three rules," he says calmly. "One—hold the line. Civilians first. Two—anchor your partner. If separated, you're weaker than you think. Three—leave rooms better than you found them. Streets, hearts, markets—same rule."
Kai listens, like a bell ringing somewhere in his ribs.
William slides a ledger chit across the table. "Stipend advance. Don't buy swords from alleys."
Kai responds, "Yes, Captain."
"Fifteen hundred—training yard. Until then, walk the blocks, smell the bread, count guards; you'll fight better when the map lives in your feet." He pauses at the door. "And—stop bowing."
Kai, serious, replies, "I will continue not doing that."
"Good man." William's smile curves. "Welcome to the Boar, Kai. Try to be on time even when you're late."
The door clicks shut. The bar's steady hum returns through the wood—warm and inviting.
Hanami raises an eyebrow. "The captain apologized. That's rare. Food or a quick armory tour?"
Kai considers. "Food. Then the armory. Then I'll go learn the city's feet."
(The Boar's Board)
Downstairs, the common room is a warm machine: clinks of cups, cheers, and the steady ticking of a wall clock made from a retired halo stake.
Hanami claims a two-top by the window. "Sit. I'll order you the Boar's Canon Flight."
Plates arrive efficiently—a feast of hearty, well-prepared food. The first plate is smoked and pulled barbecue brisket, tenderized with Wind Muti, tasting like disciplined victory. Kai closes his eyes and mumbles, "Like eating a small victory."
Next comes a briny coast chowder—clams kept cold by Water Muti, broth stabilized with micro-Ōi pulses to keep hands steady during long patrols. One spoonful makes Kai feel calmer, as if the sea has settled his ribs. The skillet cornbread, hot from cast iron and stamped with the Crescent Halo sigil, is handed to him; Hanami nods and says, "Eat the edge—guild custom." He bites into it and grins.
She then gives him a travel sampler—wind-dried aura jerky and a light-sealed glow orange snack—"Field medicine that tastes like sunlight," she says. The citrus snaps on his tongue. Finally, a Hammer Tonic—ginger and mint with a Mist-Pearl splash—cooled and steadied his shoulders. It's a meal designed to move a person.
A trio of locals spots Kai, points, and shouts, "Iron team! Good luck, kid!"
"Make us proud!" "Don't let a Britannia knight out-pose you!" Kai bows from his seat. "Thank you. I will try not to pose."
Hanami pinches her nose and smiles. "You're impossible."
(Back-of-House — Armory & Ops)
Hanami opens a staff door, shifting the atmosphere from warmth to precision. Inside, the dispatch counter displays: "TWO ANCHORS, ONE OATH, ONE WITNESS," with glow orb hazard tiers.
The quartermaster cage holds everything within reach.
She walks him through the shelves, quick and practical:
Halo Stakes (Field Anchors)—tripod pins to stabilize scenes, mark lanes, and help civilians evacuate.
"William swears by these. 'Hold the line. Bring the light."
Null-Salt Packets—dampen illusions, break glare, interfere with curses.
"Don't snort it. Don't ask why I have to say that."
Radiant Bind Ribbons—light-primed bands for non-lethal captures.
"Use them for secure knots."
Restraints & Lines—chains, cuffs, grapples.
"You'll want a grapple more often than you think."
Seekerwear—aurathread jackets and pants with charm loops, null-salt lining, flexible at the knee.
"Sizes in Joahnian and standard—tailor after the Trial."
First-Aid & Vitalis—stabilizers, burn remedies, nerve steadying pastes, coolant ampoules.
"Lila will manage this shelf. Let her."
Wands / Rods—alchemy igniters and Mage's weapons.
"Not for wand duels, but useful for engineers."
Potions / Tonics—healing, stamina, strength brews, Wonder Potions, Wake Salts, Elixir of Truth.
"Take two Wake Salts per mission. You owe me if you take three."
Auxilia Scrolls—contracts for animal summons, storage, and mirror-kites.
"Great for quick use."
Weapons Rack—swords, short spears, batons, stars, and modest blades.
"No relics yet—practical weapons only."
Kai brushes his hand over a practice staff and a capture fork. "Clean."
"Boring on purpose," Hanami replies. "Boring saves lives."
Compliance Alcove—a locked cabinet with red-ribbon seals, containing evidence, curses, and shiny oddities.
"If unsure, don't be brave."
Infirmary Nook—two cots with curtains, Sanctum Field stencil on the wall.
"William used that in burning buildings—calms rooms."
Basement Door—Satchel Vault, double-locked.
She looks at Kai. "Tell Rin the bathroom's down the hall. This is the vault."
He bows. "I will tell him."
She snorts. "Good."
(Upstairs—Team Rooms)
A narrow hall with four bunks, lockers marked with the crescent-halo stencil, and a small window showing Magnara's lights, rails, and voices.
Hanami stops at the doorframe, one hand resting there. Her grin remains, but her eyes soften.
"Your room," she says. The locker is empty. "We'll stencil your mark after the Trial."
Kai gently places Sun on the rack. "Thank you."
She hesitates—rare for her—then quickly smiles and blushes.
"Hey... thanks for joining the team. It was pretty lonely here with only William. Not bad—he's great—but it feels more like a guild with your squad here." She chuckles, a little flustered. "So, yeah. Thanks."
Kai bows, smaller this time. "Then I'll try to make it a guild worth staying in."
"That's—" She bites a grin. "—dangerously sweet. Okay. I'm going to bully a supplier. You explore a few blocks and be back by 3 p.m. for the yard. Eat if hungry. And if Pinto mentions cannons—"
"Already invested and run."
"Atta boy." She points at his sash. "Also: you look less like 'skyport sadness' now."
"Yay," he says sincerely.
She laughs and heads down the hall, boot-thumping and humming.
Kai sits on the lower bunk a moment, listening to the city breathe through the window—the rhythm of a place that builds its gods and then, carefully, puts them to work.
He stands, holding Sun's haft, and heads for the door.
Time to learn the city's streets. Two days to the Trial by Mercy.