Chapter 41 The Guild’s Briefing

The city hadn't recovered.

It looked normal at first glance. People moved. Shops reopened. Sounds returned.
But none of it felt right. The voices were lower. Smiles were thin and quick. Doors shut faster than usual.

There was an unease in the way guards walked their routes, tighter grips on their weapons. Children kept closer to their parents. No one laughed. Not truly. Even the doves on the rooflines startled at nothing and didn’t return.

Kai noticed it all as they passed. He said nothing.

The girls followed in silence. Skye’s tail twitched with anxiety, the tip tapping against her boot. Fara’s expression stayed calm, but her fox ears kept angling to every new sound. Revoli, for once, didn’t hum or bounce. She walked close to Kai’s side, fingers brushing his coat hem, eyes low.

The guild building stood like a sanctuary amid tension. Its walls held divine markings—the kind that made the mist recede before even touching the stone. If safety had a scent, this place carried it: old incense, oiled wood, steel kept sharp.

Inside, runners hurried with papers. A healer passed with bandages in a crate. No one wasted words. The hall felt busy but steady, like a ship in rough water that had not forgotten how to sail.

Lena greeted them at the door. Her hair was tied messily back, and she looked like she hadn’t slept. Her eyes lingered on Kai for a second longer than expected, like she might say something personal. She didn’t.

“This way,” she said instead. “He’s waiting.”

They followed past the mission boards—many slips torn down, many marked “ON HOLD”—and the quiet training yard where a few elites were drilling in pairs without laughter.

Lockwood sat behind his desk. Same wide-brimmed hat. Same steel gaze.
But even he looked rattled. Like the foundation beneath him had shifted in the night. A half-drunk cup of black tea sat untouched at his elbow. A second cup, now cold, waited near the blotter.

Kai didn’t sit. He stood with his arms folded while the girls lined up behind him like a small, battle-hardened parade. None of them needed to ask if they were allowed in. If Kai went, they went.

Lockwood steepled his fingers. “Rough night?”

Kai didn’t answer.

“Did the mist reach you?” Lockwood asked.

Kai nodded once.

“And?”

“We’re here, aren’t we?”

That was enough. The girls eased a hair at the sound of his voice.

Lockwood tapped the desk twice and slid over a map with inked markings that weren’t there before. Circles. Arrows. A tight cluster of Xs past a mountain spine.

“New information’s come in,” he said. “On Malrissa.”

Fara’s eyes sharpened. Skye’s ears flicked upright. Revoli looked away and pretended to study a crack in the floorboard.

Kai raised an eyebrow. “From who?”

Lockwood leaned back in his chair. “Someone who used to work under your ‘friends’—Gregory’s lot. Burned their bridges. Now they’re sending us what they know to make up for it.”

“Who?” Kai asked.

Lockwood shrugged. “Didn’t give a name. Doesn’t need to.”

Kai didn’t push it. But he caught the subtle twitch in Skye’s shoulders. He heard the soft breath that Fara pulled and held. He saw Revoli’s tail coil in and go still.

He wasn’t stupid.
He just chose not to say it.
Not yet.

“The shrine’s real,” Lockwood continued, tapping the map. “Out past the Thorn Range. It’s an old structure, older than most temples we know of. The mist—it’s coming from there. It breathes like a heart. Our scouts say the air hums.”

“And you want us to walk into it?” Kai said.

“I want you to assess it. Collapse it if you can. Cleanse it if you must. We’ve already lost three B-rank teams to it.” His jaw worked. “I’m not risking another unless I trust them.”

“And you trust me?”

“I trust results.”

He slid a sealed scroll across the table. Heavy wax. Guild sigil pressed deep.

“Elite writ,” Lockwood said. “Gives you full autonomy, first-pick on missions, and temporary sanctuary housing for your team. Supply chits. Priority at the armory.”

Fara blinked. “We already have a house.”

“You earned a better one,” Lockwood said. “Or at least a safer door.”

Kai didn’t smile, but he did take the writ and tucked it inside his coat.

“No tagalongs,” he said. “I pick my team. If anyone tries to shadow us—”

“I know,” Lockwood cut him off. “They won’t make it back.”

He pushed a smaller envelope toward Kai. “Waypoints. Weather notes. Last known positions of the teams that didn’t return. Don’t repeat their paths unless you mean to.”

Kai nodded. The girls nodded with him.

As they exited the office, a familiar voice called from down the hall.

“Well, well, look at you all! Elite status already?”

Lorna.

She leaned against the doorway like she owned the place, golden hair braided back, smirk sharp enough to cut tension. A fresh mission sash hung loose at her hip.

“Didn’t take you long, Kai. If I’d known you were handing out rescues and promotions, I’d have let myself get wrapped in that mist too.”

Fara narrowed her eyes, ears tilting back just a fraction.

Skye’s tail twitched once.

Revoli bared a fang—but only slightly—and then hid it behind a grin that wasn’t a grin.

Kai walked past her without slowing. “Next time, breathe deeper.”

Lorna laughed. “Oof. Cold. I like that in a man.”

The girls didn’t speak until they were outside again. The square was busier, but the hush hadn’t lifted.

Fara finally broke the silence. “She’s annoying.”

“She’s just trying to get under our skin,” Revoli added, hands stuffed in her sleeves.

Skye whispered, “She’s trying to get under his sheets.”

Kai didn’t hear that last one.
Or maybe he did.

They cut back through narrower streets on the way home. A cartwheel creaked. Somewhere a door bolt slid into place before they passed. A stray dog lifted its head and then tucked it under its paws again.

Later, back at home, Kai sat at the writing table while the girls settled in. The crackle of the fireplace filled the silence. Skye set water to boil. Fara checked the edge on her spear-staff and then set it aside. Revoli fussed with a satchel of bombs and then curled up in her chair, tail twitching lazily.

He opened his journal.

There’s more to this world than I imagined.
This isn’t just a dream anymore. The wounds I take last. The memories grow stronger. The emotions sharper.
I thought I’d find peace here. But I’m starting to feel something else.

He looked out the window. Lanterns were being lit early. Clouds stacked over the Thorn Range like dark books.

Responsibility.

He glanced back toward the room, where the girls laughed softly now that the tea was ready. Fara leaned into Skye as they shared cups. Revoli blew on hers and made a face, then tried again.

He wrote:

They aren’t NPCs. They’re people. They’re mine to protect. And I want them to stay.

He didn’t write what scared him the most.

That this world was becoming real.

And he didn’t want to leave it.