He drove the fight toward the tower's weakest point, forcing Kaelor back step by step through a series of exchanges that left both of them bleeding, until the ancient stone above them groaned under stress it could no longer bear. "Clever," Kaelor said, understanding a half second too late what Garrick intended. The ceiling came down in a roar of dust and debris, and Garrick didn't wait to see how close it came to crushing them both. He turned and ran through the gap the hunters had escaped through minutes before, tearing through underbrush and low branches with every ounce of strength his exhausted body had left. He ran until the sounds of collapse faded behind him, until his legs burned and his lungs screamed for air, and only then did he finally stop, chest heaving, back against a tree, listening for any sign of pursuit that never came. Behind him, in the tower's ruins, Kaelor Vayne rose slowly from beneath a scattering of rubble, brushing dust from his shoulder with the same

The border crossing announced itself long before Garrick reached it, a cluster of low wooden buildings straddling the trade road where a wide, shallow river marked the actual boundary, a single stone bridge arching over the water between two very different worlds.On the Nythrian side, a proper garrison post stood watch, banners bearing the crown's colors hanging limp in the still afternoon air, guards in polished armor checking papers and cargo with the bored efficiency of men who had done this a thousand times before.On the far side, past the bridge, the buildings looked older, rougher, patched together from whatever materials had been available rather than built to any single standard. No banners. No uniformed guards. Just a handful of armed men lounging near a toll booth, watching the crossing with the casual alertness of people paid to notice trouble rather than prevent it on principle.Garrick stopped well short of the Nythrian checkpoint, studying the scene from the cover of t

The independent territories looked, for the first several miles past the border, almost identical to the Nythrian countryside Garrick had left behind. Same rolling hills, same scattered farmsteads, same dirt roads rutted by cart wheels. It took him the better part of a day to notice the differences that actually mattered.No royal banners hung from any building he passed. No garrison posts interrupted the road at regular intervals. The few travelers he encountered eyed him with simple caution rather than the particular wariness Nythrian villagers had learned to show strangers carrying weapons, and nobody, not once, asked to see papers or proof of business before letting him pass."It's quieter," he said, as evening approached and the road began climbing toward a cluster of buildings that looked like they might offer a proper inn. "No one's watching the road the way they did back home."Do not mistake quiet for safety, Asterion said. Fewer eyes searching specifically for

The guild hall's interior was louder than anything Garrick had experienced since the market square, dozens of conversations layered over each other, boots scuffing worn floorboards, a notice board along one wall thick with parchment offering everything from monster commissions to escort work. A registration desk sat near the entrance, a harried-looking clerk working through a line of hopeful adventurers with the brisk efficiency of someone who had done this a thousand times before. Garrick joined the back of the line, watching the process unfold ahead of him, filing away what he could before his own turn arrived. "Name?" the clerk asked, when Garrick finally reached the front, not looking up from her ledger. "Corin Hale." "Age?" "Seventeen." The clerk glanced up briefly at that, taking in his face, his build, the sword visible now that he'd let his cloak fall open. "Young for guild work. You'll start at the bottom regardles

Oswin met them at the storehouse door, relief plain on his round face the moment he saw them emerge dust-covered but otherwise unharmed."You got them? All of them?""Every last one," Wren said, before Garrick could answer. "Your grain's safe, though I'd recommend sealing that cellar properly before the next batch decides to nest there instead."Oswin counted coins into Garrick's palm with the relieved generosity of a man who'd expected worse news, and added two extra without being asked. "For the both of you. Wasn't part of the contract, but you earned it clearing the whole den instead of just enough to collect payment.""I didn't do the job," Wren said, waving off the extra coin. "Give it all to him. He's the one who actually needs it, if I had to guess."Garrick accepted the full amount with a quiet thanks, and the two of them walked back toward the guild hall together, the afternoon sun warm overhead, the tension of the cellar fight fading into ordinary tired