After the Storm

The morning after their discharge from the infirmary, Shin found himself walking through the guild courtyard with Kael, his steps still slow and stiff. The cobblestones, warmed by the golden sun overhead, radiated gentle heat through the soles of his boots. Birds chirped lazily from tiled rooftops, and the scent of fresh bread and simmering stew drifted from the tavern kitchens nearby, wrapping around him like a warm blanket. The wind whispered softly through hanging flags, brushing against his skin like silk.It felt… normal. Almost too normal.
Despite the wounds and whispers, the world continued moving.
Kael glanced sideways at him; his arm still bound in a sling. “Think you can make it to the board without falling over?”
“No promises,” Shin muttered with a lopsided grin, though his voice was rougher than usual. His body ached with each step, muscles protesting, bones still sore from the battle that refused to leave his mind. Every movement reminded him he was still alive. Still healing.
Inside the main hall, the Adventurer’s Guild buzzed with its usual low thrum of life-quest runner talking with clients, seasoned warriors arguing over maps, and a group of rookies clustered around a chart of nearby ruins. Sunlight spilled through stained glass windows, painting the wooden floor in fractured hues of crimson and sapphire.
Yet when Shin and Kael entered, several heads turned.
Conversations faltered.
A few younger adventurers stared openly. Some nodded with grudging respect. Others simply stepped aside, as if sensing something unspoken lingering around the two-an aura earned through battle, not bravado.
“Looks like word got around,” Shin said under his breath, his eyes scanning the crowd.

“Word spreads faster when a C-rank party slays a beast that could crush A-ranks,” Kael replied, his voice low and even, though a note of pride glimmered beneath the calm.
Shin blinked. “We’re… C-rank?”
“Officially. We took a C-rank posting. The beast wasn’t part of the request. But we completed the original quest and killed something the guild didn’t even expect. That tends to rattle the board a little.”

As if summoned by those words, the guild master steeped out from her office-an older elf woman with braided silver hair and sharp amber eyes that seemed to read thoughts like open books. She strode toward them with her usual quiet authority, boots clicking softly against the polished floor.
“Kael. Shinn.”
They straightened instinctively.
She gave a brief nod. “You’ve caused quite the stir.”

Kael raised an eyebrow. “We just wanted to finish our quest.”
“And instead stumbled on a creature classified under the old abyssal records.” Her tone wasn’t accusing-more curious than anything else. “You were lucky. Or unlucky, depending how you look at it.”
Shin swallowed. The memory of the beast’s eyes still haunted him. A flicker of its guttural growl echoed in his thoughts. “Is the guild… mad?”
A corner of her mouth lifted faintly. “Mad? No. Impressed? Absolutely. Concerned? Also, yes.”
She handed Kael a parchment-official, stamped with the sigil of the Adventurer’s Guild.
“Your party’s reward has been adjusted accordingly. Hazard compensation, plus a classified bonus for removing a threat that could’ve levelled half the eastern ridge if left unchecked.”

Kael read the numbers, blinked, and gave aa low whistle.

Shin peeked. His jaw dropped. That was more gold than he’d seen in his life.
“Split five ways,” Kael said. “But still. That’s… not bad.”
“Not bad?” Rurik’s voice barked from behind them as he limped up on a crutch, followed by Reina and Kaen. “That’s the most coin I’ve seen since the Flame Drake job, and I still have scars from that damn thing.”
Kaen grinned. “Pretty sure this pays for enough stew to drown in.”
Reina rolled her eyes but smiled. “Maybe don’t eat until you rupture your stitches this time.”

The guild master nodded toward them. “Enjoy your rest. You’ve earned it. And when you’re ready for reassessment… we’ll be watching.”
She turned and left without another word. Her footsteps echoed down the hallway, leaving silence in their wake.
The group spent the rest of the day lounging at the inn near the guildhall-The Iron Lily, a modest but cozy place with worn wooden beams, soft beds, and a fireplace that never quite down. The air was filled with the smell of roasted lamb, herbs, and smoke. The windows were open just enough to let in a cool summer breeze, fluttering the lace curtains at the corners.
Plates of warm food arrived like magic. Someone had sent them a keg of cider. Rurik shed a tear.

The atmosphere inside was golden with firelight and low chatter. The adventurers sat at their usual corner table, close enough to the fire to feel its warmth but far enough for privacy.
The conversation was light-scars compared, jabs traded, and increasingly ridiculous stories of who landed the most dramatic blow.

“I think I broke my spine on purpose just so I could make this cider taste better,” Rurik groaned happily, leaning back and nursing a tankard.
Kaen smirked. “You break your spine getting out of bed.”
Reina leaned back in her chair, braid freshly washed and gleaming in the firelight. “This is… nice.”
Shin sat across from them, watching. Listening. Absorbing.
He’d expected a celebration to feel louder. More triumphant. But this felt better-quiet, earned, and real. He found himself smiling, though his chest still ached when he laughed. His thoughts wandered.
Was this peace? Or just the eye of the storm?

The others were healing in their own ways. Kael had been reading more, Reina was polishing her knives even more obsessively than usual, and Kaen… well, Kaen was napping wherever he found a flat surface.

Later, as the fire dimmed and the others began drifting off to their rooms, Reina lingered a moment beside Shin.
“You know they’re all proud of you, right?”
He shrugged. “They’re proud we survived.”
She tilted her head. “Maybe. But they also saw what you did. The way you moved. The way the air changed around you. That wasn’t nothing.”
He didn’t reply right away.

“I’m still figuring out,” he said finally. “I don’t know if it’s mine. Or if it’s something… borrowed.”
Reina didn’t press. She just nodded and squeezed his shoulder lightly.
“Well. Just don’t lose yourself in it.”
When she was gone, Shin sat a while longer, staring into the fire.
The warmth, the flickering light, the slow pulse of comfort-it all felt distant. Not bad. Just… removed.
> Who am I becoming?
He didn’t know yet.
But tomorrow would come. And for the first time, it didn’t feel like a threat.
The next morning, a message arrived from the guild master:
“Reassessment scheduled. Three days. Rest well.”

Kael snorted when he read it. “They want to bump us up. Maybe even B-rank. After that stunt, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“I just hope it doesn’t come with more demon beast’s,” Kaen muttered, sipping cider like it might protect him from fate.

Shin helped Reina refill potion vials, the smell of herbs and alchemical smoke strangely soothing. Rurik entertained passing guild apprentices with tales of the battle (each more exaggerated than the last). Kael stayed quiet, thoughtful. Kaen actually dozed through most of it, occasionally walking only to steal snacks.
In those quiet moments, Shin found himself staring at his own hands-watching, wating-almost expecting something to crackle beneath his skin again.
That afternoon, as they gathered again in the Iron Lily’s common room, Reina glanced out of the window at the sun beginning to dip below the rooftops.
“Hey,” she said, “What if tomorrow, before reassessment, we go somewhere? Just… relax.”
Kaen blinked. “Like where?”
“There’s a hot spring two hours north,” she said. “The kind surrounded by woods and mist. Quiet. Private. Good for healing.”
Rurik perked up. “Hot spring? Say no more.”
Kael looked at Shin. “You in?”

Shin smiled, the fatigue behind his eyes softening. “Yeah. I think we’ve earned it.”
Reina nodded, already pulling out a map from her pack.
“Let’s take the road early. Just us. No armor, no monsters. Just rest.”

They leaned closer over the table, marking trails, arguing over which snacks to bring, and debating whether Kaen would be awake enough to not sleep through the whole trip.
Kaen murmured, “If you carry me, I won’t complain.”
“I am not carrying you again,” Reina warned, pointing her spoon at him. “You’re heavier than you look.”
Laughter rose and filled the inn, bubbling up like spring water.
And for once, no one disagreed.
The stars shimmered above Nevernight.
And far beyond the trees, something watched from the shadows.
But for now, there was only laughter, cider, and the promise of peace.