Entering Virelion

The morning air felt different.

Lyselle drew in a deep breath as she passed beneath the massive stone gate marking the border of the Virelion Kingdom. Sunlight spilled across the white limestone walls, sending back a soft gleam that almost resembled silver. In the distance, rooftops rose against the sky—some painted deep red, others dark blue, the colors of the royal family’s crest.

The mingled sound of footsteps and merchants’ chatter greeted her. The scent of baked bread, smoked meat, and spice drifted from stalls lining the road just beyond the gate. The moment her feet touched the main avenue, paved in solid granite, Lyselle felt she had truly stepped into another world.

(This… is nothing like the oppressed villages I saw yesterday. This feels like the very center of civilization.)

And yet, the stares were unmistakable.

Not warm—more a mix of curiosity and caution. Understandable, perhaps: High Elves were rarely seen in the human capital, least of all a woman traveling alone, wearing a simple cloak whose hood, whenever the wind caught it, revealed a pair of long, pointed ears impossible to miss.

“A High Elf, huh?” one merchant murmured to another.

“Rare sight. Is she a noble from the north?”

“Maybe. Or a wandering adventurer. But look at her eyes—she’s not ordinary.”

Lyselle ignored the whispers. Such glances had followed her ever since she’d first set foot in Eirenthal. She walked on with steady steps, heading toward the heart of the city.

---

After roughly fifteen minutes, the rows of market stalls gave way to permanent buildings—shops, eateries, and inns. The flow of people was thicker here; carts and horses jostled for space along the cobbled streets. In the center of a broad square stood a grand fountain shaped like a winged lion, spilling crystal-clear water into the basin below. Children chased each other around it while mothers bartered for fresh vegetables.

Lyselle paused at the fountain’s edge. She took a sip from her leather water flask and checked her coin pouch.

(Enough for one, maybe two weeks… but only if I’m careful. Which means I need to find work quickly.)

Her thoughts went at once to a single place: the Adventurers’ Guild. A gathering point for information, jobs, and connections. Though its reputation could be rough—filled with coarse-tempered people—it was still the fastest way for any newcomer to survive in the city.

---

Finding the guild wasn’t difficult.

A kindly fruit seller gave her directions: “Straight from the square, turn left after the bronze knight statue. Can’t miss it—it’s a big building.”

Following those instructions, she soon spotted it: a tall, imposing structure with double wooden doors twice the height of an ordinary man. Above the entrance, the carving of a sword crossed with a shield was framed by ancient runes—the oath of the adventurer.

The moment she pushed open the doors, a thick blend of scents and noise washed over her—ale, aged wood, and a restless din. Tables were crowded with adventurers laughing, arguing, or showing off their spoils. Some wore full plate armor; others dressed in heavy cloth with weapon belts slung at their hips.

Many heads turned toward her. Not only for the ears, but for the way she moved—calm, upright, clearly unused to a place so raucous.

“An elf? That’s rare,” a burly man at a nearby table remarked.

“She’s beautiful…” another muttered, earning a swift elbow from his companion.

Lyselle paid no heed. She strode to the reception counter, where a dark-haired woman stood with her hair tied neatly back, dressed in the guild’s black-and-blue uniform.

“Welcome to the Virelion Adventurers’ Guild,” the woman greeted her with a professional smile. “Are you here to register as a member, or simply looking for information?”

“I’m looking for temporary work. But… I’m also considering registering,” Lyselle replied.

“Very well. Registration requires proof of identity and a two-silver fee. Without membership, your job options will be limited and pay lower.”

(Two silvers… that’s half my savings. But with membership, I’ll have wider access to information.)

“I’ll register,” Lyselle decided.

---

The process was swift. She filled out a short form, presented her identification charm—an artifact issued by the Eirenthal government—then pressed a single drop of blood onto a magic stone for verification. Within ten minutes, she held a bronze guild card: the mark of rank F, the starting level for all new adventurers.

“As a new member, you can select missions from rank F up to E,” the receptionist explained. “But… if I may suggest, you should secure lodging before taking on a mission.”

“Any recommendations for something inexpensive?” Lyselle asked.

The woman thought for a moment. “There’s the ‘Swallow’s Rest’ inn in the South District. Two silvers per week, breakfast included. The owner is kind. But…” she leaned in slightly, lowering her voice, “…the district can be dangerous at night. Lots of pickpockets.”

Lyselle merely nodded. “Thank you. I’ll be careful.”

---

The walk to the South District took around twenty minutes. The farther she went from the city center, the narrower the streets became, and the buildings looked older. The cheerful voices of the square faded into the shouts of street hawkers peddling cheap wares. The smell of used cooking oil and rubbish grew stronger.

Yet in the midst of it all, Lyselle felt… familiar comfort.

(A place like this… reminds me of the villages I once helped.)

The ‘Swallow’s Rest’ turned out to be a two-story wooden building with a modest signboard painted with a small bird. A warm-faced middle-aged woman greeted her at the door.

“Welcome, miss. Looking for a room?”

“Yes. I heard from the guild that you rent rooms for two silvers a week?”

“That’s right. And if you’d like, I can prepare dinner as well for a few extra copper coins.”

Lyselle paid upfront for a week. The room she received was plain but clean—a wooden bed with a thin mattress, a small table, and a window overlooking a narrow alley.

---

That night, after a simple dinner of vegetable soup and bread, Lyselle sat at the table by the window, gazing out. The oil lamps in the alley flickered in the wind.

(My first steps in Virelion have begun. Tomorrow, I’ll start gathering information. And perhaps… uncover more about the corruption poisoning this kingdom.)

Though she stood at the lowest rank, she knew one truth: this was only the beginning of a long path that would lead to far greater things.