V2C11 - Quiet Light

Hearthlight Inn – Morning Sun

Lucen stirred to the sound of clinking dishes and the warm scent of something savory—eggs, maybe, or toasted bread. His limbs ached in that dull, satisfying way. The weight of the previous day was still in his bones, but his thoughts were light.

He opened his eyes slowly.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains in soft strips, stretching across the wooden floorboards and the edge of the quilt folded low over his chest. The room was small but familiar: a shelf cluttered with odd knickknacks, a chair with his cloak tossed over it, and a new satchel resting neatly beside his boots.

He stared at it for a moment.

Still hard to believe he finally had one.

He sat up, exhaled slowly, and stretched through the stiffness. A soft pulse came from his wrist.

Lucen raised his hand, and the Arcane Sigil Interface blinked to life—subtle bronze light hovering just above his skin.

Name: Lucen

Guild Rank: Bronze

Completed Quests: 4

Gold Balance: 2 copper

Status: Rested

Affinities Awakened: Wind, Fire, Light

Notice: New quests available – Tier: Bronze

He flicked his fingers slightly and dismissed the display.

The second bed was already empty.

Of course she was up first.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached for his things, slipping the satchel strap over one shoulder. It felt lighter than it looked—already attuned to his mana from last night. Handy. Simple. Useful.

He was tightening the last strap on his boots when he heard soft steps on the stairs.

Nyari appeared at the top, hair slightly tousled, a fresh cloth tied around her upper arm. Her eyes landed on him, then on the gear.

“Look at you,” she said, voice still slightly rough from sleep. “Waking up like a proper adventurer.”

Lucen rubbed at his eyes. “Trying to play the part.”

“Did you even stretch?”

“Didn’t think I needed to.”

“Wrong answer.”

She walked past with a flick of her tail.

Hearthlight Inn – Common Room

The common room was already buzzing with low voices and the scent of breakfast. Wooden tables sat half-filled with adventurers in light armor or travel coats. Lanterns glowed overhead in soft golden tones. The hearth still held a low fire from last night, casting lazy warmth into the room.

Lucen and Nyari slid into their usual corner seat.

Moments later, Marella approached with two wooden plates—one with eggs, crisp toast, and soft cheese; the other stacked with grilled fish, still steaming.

“Morning,” she said, placing them down with her usual gentleness. “You’ve both earned something better than stew.”

Lucen blinked. “No porridge?”

“Miracles happen.”

Nyari grinned. “You’d think we saved the town.”

“You nearly did,” Marella said, patting Lucen’s shoulder before turning away.

They started eating in silence, the kind that came from exhaustion—not awkwardness.

Lucen glanced at Nyari between bites. She seemed at ease this morning. Less guarded. Her shoulders weren’t drawn quite as tight.

“You sleep okay?”

Nyari finished a bite of fish and gave a small nod. “Didn’t wake up to anything biting me. I’ll take it.”

Lucen gave a quiet laugh. “Bronze doesn’t feel that different. Just… cleaner.”

“You earned it.” She looked over at him. “You’re getting better, you know.”

He blinked. “At what?”

“Not just the fighting.” She tapped his chest with her fork. “You’re thinking more. Not flailing as much.”

Lucen smirked. “That’s high praise.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

She flicked her tail once beneath the table—just enough to brush his shin.

He didn’t say anything. Just took another bite and tried not to smile too obviously.

Nyari set her fork down, stretched her arms behind her head, and let out a satisfied breath. The motion pulled her shirt up just slightly, revealing the faint line of a healed cut along her side.

Lucen noticed—and quickly looked back to his plate.

Nyari caught the glance anyway and grinned faintly. “Something interesting?”

“I was making sure you’re not still bleeding,” he muttered, stabbing a piece of toast.

“I heal fast.”

“Still. That orc captain hit you hard.”

“Barely clipped me.”

She sipped from her tea, eyes amused.

Lucen rolled his shoulders and leaned back against the wall. The wood was warm from the hearth. “I still don’t think I did much.”

Nyari looked over at him. “You mean in the fight?”

He nodded.

“You handled five of them,” she said plainly. “Not counting the one with the axe.”

Lucen exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I was reacting. Not planning.”

“That’s better than panicking.”

He smirked, just a little. “I guess.”

Nyari studied him for a moment. Her voice softened. “You’re getting stronger. It shows.”

Lucen looked at her.

“You weren’t flinching. You weren’t freezing. You made choices. That’s what matters.”

For a while, neither of them said anything.

The fire crackled softly in the background. Somewhere behind them, Marella clinked dishes near the bar. The scent of toasted cheese and herbs still hung in the air, warm and comfortable.

Lucen turned the strap of his new satchel in his hand absently. “Feels weird, though.”

“What does?”

“This,” he said. “Being… here. Sitting. Eating breakfast in a real inn. After everything that’s happened, it doesn’t feel like something I deserve yet.”

Nyari leaned back, tail lazily curling around the leg of her chair. “You think any of the people here deserve it?”

He glanced around. The other adventurers were all older. More armored. Some had scars. Some looked tired. Some laughed.

He looked back at her.

Nyari shrugged. “Most of them were just kids with mana, too. Until they weren’t.”

Lucen didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

Nyari nudged her empty plate forward, then dropped her chin onto her folded arms and tilted her head toward him.

“You know,” she said, “you do look less rookie with that bag. Just barely.”

Lucen raised an eyebrow. “Barely?”

“Give it a few days. Maybe you’ll look like a real Bronze.”

Lucen crossed his arms. “So you’re saying I don’t yet.”

She grinned without lifting her head. “I’m saying the bar’s low. And you just cleared it.”

Lucen smirked. “Good to know where I stand.”

“Mmhm.”

She let her eyes drift half-closed, basking in the warmth of the fire and the after-breakfast haze. Her tail brushed lazily across his boot without her seeming to notice.

Lucen didn’t move it.

The fire crackled quietly, and for a few minutes, neither of them said anything.

Lucen stared into the hearthlight, the edge of his plate still half-full. His appetite had waned a little, though not for any bad reason. Just a quiet fullness—like the calm that comes after a storm.

Nyari still had her arms folded under her chin, face half-buried, tail flicking softly now and then. Her eyes were closed, but she wasn’t asleep. She was just there. Still.

Eventually, her voice came, low and casual. “So.”

Lucen glanced over. “Hm?”

“What’s next?”

He looked at her. “You mean today?”

“No, I mean in life,” she said, then cracked one eye open and gave him a look. “Yes. Today.”

He let out a breath and rubbed the back of his neck. “No clue. Check the guild board, I guess.”

“Sounds thrilling.”

“I’m sure it’ll be more vermin extermination or roadside repairs.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky,” she said, lifting her head finally. “And someone will lose a goat on a hill.”

“Hey, Bronze quests are prestigious now.”

Nyari smirked. “So is gutter cleaning.”

Lucen stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders again. “Still better than no quests at all.”

At that moment, Marella passed by, collecting a few empty mugs from a nearby table. She paused as she neared theirs and gave Lucen a small, knowing smile.

“You two staying another night?” she asked.

Lucen glanced at Nyari, who didn’t object.

He nodded. “Yeah. Unless the guild sends us running halfway across the map.”

“Let’s hope they don’t,” Marella said warmly. “You’ve earned a little time in one place.”

She started to walk off, then stopped and added, “By the way—check the board soon. There was a notice posted this morning. Looked like something new.”

Lucen perked slightly. “Something good?”

Marella raised a brow. “It had two pages.”

Nyari’s ears twitched.

Lucen leaned forward. “That sounds like at least medium drama.”

Marella winked. “Might be worth the read.”

She drifted off toward the bar with a hum, leaving the two of them sitting in the firelight again.

Lucen looked at Nyari.

She was already on her feet.

He blinked. “I thought you were tired.”

“I’m always tired,” she said, stretching one arm overhead. “That doesn’t mean I’m not curious.”

Lucen downed the last of his water, grabbed his satchel, and stood beside her. “Want to walk or stretch first?”

She gave him a slow look. “We walk to the guild, and you will stretch. Deal?”

He sighed. “Fine.”

Falridge – Midmorning Light

The morning sun had risen higher by the time they stepped out into the streets. The city felt different today—subtle, but real. Less distant. Less like a place Lucen had wandered into by accident.

They passed the baker with the slate tray of cinnamon knots, the alley cat Nyari kept feeding despite claiming she wasn’t sentimental, and a young pair of Copper-rank adventurers arguing over the price of whetstones.

Normal.

But good.

The guild came into view at the top of the hill, its stone archway marked with faint banners fluttering in the breeze.

Lucen adjusted the strap of his bag.

Nyari didn’t say much, but her tail swayed behind her with a quiet rhythm.

“Two pages,” Lucen said under his breath.

“Better not be a goat.”

The city hadn’t fully shaken off the morning chill, but the sun was warming the cobblestones by the minute. Lucen and Nyari walked side by side past old brick storefronts, iron lantern posts, and ivy that curled lazily down worn archways.

A few kids darted between alleyways chasing each other with sticks, one of them wielding a fake wooden sword nearly as big as he was.

Lucen watched them for a moment, smirking faintly.

“You thinking about joining their party?” Nyari asked, hands folded behind her head.

“Maybe,” he said. “They look like they get better loot.”

“They’d probably call you ‘sir’ and ask if you needed help crossing the road.”

Lucen rolled his eyes. “That only happened once.”

She grinned. “It happened twice, sword-boy.”

He groaned. “You keeping score now?”

“Always.”

They passed a small market stand with a display of roasted nuts. The smell drifted toward them, warm and spiced. Nyari slowed her steps and glanced sideways at it, eyes narrowing.

Lucen caught the look. “Hungry again?”

She gave him a lazy stretch. “Still growing.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re taller than me.”

“And yet I’m cuter.”

He gave a dry laugh. “Debatable.”

She suddenly stepped in closer, just enough for her shoulder to brush his. “You’re allowed to admit I’m cute, you know,” she said, tail flicking lightly against his leg. “Won’t hurt your Bronze pride.”

Lucen opened his mouth, closed it, then shrugged. “You’re cute.”

Nyari blinked.

Then grinned—wide and sharp.

“Nya.”

Lucen laughed. “You’re really leaning into that today.”

“I’m allowed to be smug,” she said, flicking her tail again. “You finally said it.”

He glanced at her, still smiling. “You act like I was hiding it.”

“Oh? So you’ve always thought I was cute?”

“Maybe.”

She tilted her head with a mock gasp. “Lucen.”

“Nyari.”

“Is this the start of a confession arc?”

He snorted. “Nope. This is the start of me checking the guild board and pretending that never happened.”

“You can’t take it back,” she said sweetly. “I heard it. Marella probably heard it. The whole town knows now.”

“I should’ve let that orc hit me harder.”

She leaned in closer as they turned the corner, her voice soft and teasing near his ear. “I would’ve been sad if you died.”

Lucen stopped.

She kept walking another step or two, then glanced over her shoulder.

He blinked. “Wait—was that… serious?”

She smiled. Just a little. “Maybe.”

And then she walked ahead, tail swaying, ears twitching in the breeze.

Lucen stared for a moment longer before catching up.

“Alright,” he muttered. “That’s not fair.”

“What’s not?”

“You can’t just throw that in and walk off.”

“Sure I can.”

He shook his head. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m consistent.”

She glanced sideways again and flashed a fang-tip grin.

“Cute, right?”

Lucen sighed. “Bronze wasn’t worth this.”

“Oh, it was. Nya.”

Falridge Guild Hall – Late Morning

The twin wooden doors of the guild creaked open as Lucen and Nyari stepped inside. The familiar hum greeted them instantly—leather boots on stone, voices echoing off vaulted beams, the faint clatter of steel and ink-smeared parchment being shuffled behind the counter.

The smell of old wood, faint sweat, and ink was… oddly comforting now.

Lucen adjusted the strap of his satchel and gave a slight nod to the front desk.

Eyla was right where she always was—leaning forward on her elbow, hair tied back in a loose bun, glancing up at the two of them with her usual smirk like she’d seen this scene a hundred times already.

“Well,” she said, “Bronze looks good on you. Glowing sigil and all.”

Lucen gave her a half-smile. “You say that like I didn’t almost die earning it.”

“You didn’t,” she replied smoothly. “Which means you’re now qualified for the fun jobs.”

Nyari stepped beside him and folded her arms. “Define fun.”

Eyla reached under the counter and tapped the side of the quest board crystal. A shimmer passed across the large wall panel behind her as several new postings glowed into view.

One in particular had two full pages, as Marella had said—both tacked together with a gilded clip and a flashing bronze seal.

Eyla gestured to it with a mock flourish. “There’s your fun.”

Lucen stepped forward, reading aloud quietly.

Quest Type: Field Investigation / Containment Support

Location: Southern edge of the Whisperpine Woods

Requesting Party: Guild-Registered Hunter (Silver rank)

Details: Suspicious monster activity—migratory behavior outside natural patterns. Requesting Bronze-tier support for terrain navigation, camp defense, and report assistance.

Reward: Base pay + hazard bonus

Note: Involves overnight travel. Non-combat trackers welcome.

Status: Open

Lucen raised a brow. “Something spooked the ecosystem?”

“More than one report,” Eyla said. “Something’s stirring down there. One of our Silver boys is prepping an outpost. He wants help before it turns into a full outbreak.”

Nyari glanced at Lucen. “Could be interesting.”

Lucen nodded. “Could also be nothing.”

“Could be both.”

Eyla shrugged. “He’s not expecting Bronze rank to carry the mission—just assist. It’s not mandatory, but… would look good on your log.”

Lucen tapped his fingers against the parchment’s edge, then looked at Nyari again.

She gave a light shrug. “I’m up for it. But doesn’t mean we have to rush.”

Lucen hesitated.

Then stepped back. “We’ll think about it.”

Eyla blinked. “You’re not leaping at a real job? Who are you?”

Lucen smirked. “Someone who wants to enjoy being alive first.”

Falridge – Northern Ridge Overlook

The trail ended at a small rise where weather-worn stone railings ringed the overlook, waist high and half-swallowed by wild grass. From here, Falridge stretched out like a painted canvas—sloped rooftops, rising spires, winding alleys. Smoke curled from chimneys, and sunlight caught the edges of the river far beyond.

Lucen leaned on his elbows, breathing in the quiet.

Beside him, Nyari sat on the railing with one leg dangling, the other tucked beneath her. The breeze played through her hair as she stared out over the city.

“This spot’s too peaceful,” she said. “Makes me nervous.”

Lucen smirked. “Because it’s not trying to kill you?”

She gave him a faint side-glance. “Exactly.”

He looked out again. “You come here often?”

“When I don’t want to be seen.”

He didn’t ask why. He just waited.

After a while, Nyari spoke again, quieter this time. “I used to come here after failed missions. Early on, I got stuck with teams that didn’t care if I came back. Or if I made it to the fight at all.”

Lucen glanced at her.

“One of them left me in a cave,” she continued. “Twisted my ankle during the descent. They just moved on. I crawled out three hours later. They’d already turned in the reward.”

“Did you report them?”

“Didn’t have to,” she said flatly. “They didn’t last long after that.”

Lucen didn’t ask for details.

Nyari brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s when I stopped expecting people to wait for me.”

Silence settled again. But her voice came back after a breath.

“Thing is… I think I started keeping distance long before that.”

Lucen looked over at her.

She wasn’t smirking now. Wasn’t teasing. Just staring out over the rooftops with a far-off look.

“I had a brother. Younger than me. Loud. Stubborn. He’d sneak rations to strays even when we didn’t have enough. Said they needed kindness more than we did.”

Lucen stayed still.

“One winter, a wagon turned up near our ridge. Looked broken, covered in frost. Said they were merchants. Sick. Starving. Nobody trusted them. We were told not to get involved.”

Nyari’s voice thinned slightly. “But my brother didn’t listen. Waited until I was asleep upstairs. Took food from the cellar and went out to help them.”

Lucen felt the back of his neck go cold.

“They weren’t merchants,” she said. “They were raiders. Playing sick. Waiting.”

Her fingers curled faintly against the stone. “They killed him.”

Lucen’s jaw clenched.

“I didn’t even know he was gone until I woke up to voices downstairs. Boots. Steel. I knew it wasn’t him coming back.”

She drew her leg in and hugged it to her chest.

“I hid in the crawlspace under the attic. Could barely fit. Couldn’t breathe right. But I didn’t move. I just listened. Heard them tearing through the house. Laughing about how easy it was to trick him. Talking about what else they could take.”

Lucen said nothing. He didn’t need to.

“When they were done looting, they lit the bottom floor on their way out. I waited until the heat hit the rafters before I moved.”

She finally looked at him.

“I crawled out choking on smoke. He was gone. Everything was gone. And I just… ran.”

The wind brushed through the grass, soft and cold.

Lucen stared at her, throat tight. “I’m so sorry.”

She nodded slowly, but not like it helped.

“I don’t tell people that,” she said. “Because most of them don’t care. Or they try to fix it.”

Lucen met her gaze. “I won’t fix it.”

“Good.”

Then, softer—almost like she wasn’t sure she should say it:

“I don’t want to be alone forever. But it’s hard to let people stay.”

Lucen didn’t hesitate.

“I’m not leaving.”

Nyari looked at him, eyes narrowed—not hostile. Just unsure.

“Don’t say that unless you mean it.”

“I mean it.”

She stared at him a long moment—long enough that the breeze seemed to hush around them.

Then she finally looked away and whispered, “He would’ve liked you, I think.”

Lucen tilted his head. “Yeah?”

“He liked animals.”

He cracked a laugh, and her lips twitched. Just slightly.

Her tail brushed softly against his ankle, then settled on the stone.

Lucen didn’t move away.

Neither of them did.

The wind carried the scent of grass and pine. Somewhere below, a bell rang out from the guild tower. But up here, above the rooftops and the world, it didn’t matter.

Not for now.

Falridge – Sunset Descent

They didn’t say much after that.

The sun had begun its slow dip behind the ridgeline, casting gold across the rooftops and stretching long shadows across the stone steps as they made their way down. The breeze was quieter now. Softer.

Lucen walked beside her, steps steady but unhurried. Nyari’s arms were folded behind her back, and her tail swayed in a slower rhythm—loose, thoughtful.

A few words had hovered on his tongue since they left the overlook.

He didn’t say them.

He didn’t have to.

At one point, their hands brushed. Just briefly.

Neither of them looked.

Neither of them moved away.

They walked like that for a while—shoulders just close enough, steps quietly matched.

At the corner near the baker’s shop, Nyari looked up at the amber sky and muttered, “If you tell anyone I got sappy on a hill, I’ll stab you.”

Lucen smiled faintly. “Understood.”

She didn’t say anything else.

But as they turned onto the street leading back toward the inn, her hand grazed his again.

And this time…

She didn’t pull it back.