Accomplice

The guild hall buzzed with activity as Lian, Kael, and Mira stepped inside. The familiar smell of wood polish, ink, and the faint tang of metal greeted them, but today the atmosphere felt heavier. Adventurers laughed and exchanged stories, but their own eyes were drawn to the mission board. Several postings glimmered with the promise of coin, but one in particular caught their attention.

It was a bounty mission. A bandit had supposedly stolen a large sum from a wealthy household, and the guild sought his capture. Lian read the description silently, noting that the target was believed to be cunning, dangerous, and very careful. Kael tapped her chin, squinting at the words.

“Sounds fun,” she said casually. “We’ll grab this guy, collect the reward, and be done with it in an afternoon.”

Mira nodded. “It’s simple enough, and capturing someone without a fight is always better. Let’s move quickly before someone else takes it.”

The three of them left the guild and set out along the dirt roads toward the last known location of the bandit. Lian’s thoughts drifted as they walked. The memory of the previous mission lingered—the moment when they had failed to protect the merchant’s money. He had barely slept, thinking about how easily things could go wrong when he avoided using his power. Today, he promised himself, he would remain vigilant, though he kept his ability hidden from his companions as always.

By mid-afternoon, they reached a small clearing near the edge of a forest. Shadows stretched across the ground as the sun tilted toward the horizon. Lian’s eyes caught a figure crouched behind a tree, clearly trying to remain unnoticed.

“There,” Kael whispered, pointing.

The figure froze, glancing around with nervous eyes. Mira motioned to stay calm, and the three approached cautiously. The bandit seemed almost absurdly clumsy. As they closed the distance, he tripped over a root and fell face-first into the dirt. Lian stifled a laugh; Kael and Mira exchanged quick glances but said nothing.

It took only a few moments to restrain him. They bound his hands with rope from their supplies, and the man grumbled, complaining about the injustice of being caught so easily.

“He’s either incredibly unlucky, or not very bright,” Kael muttered.

Mira frowned, studying him closely. “Or maybe he’s hiding something. People often look guilty even when they’re innocent.”

Lian stayed silent. He had felt the urge, a small itch in the back of his mind, to use his ability just to confirm their suspicions. Normally, he would have resisted. But curiosity, combined with a strange sense of responsibility, made him lean slightly closer. Almost without thinking, he let his power reach out to the bandit’s mind.

The thoughts he found were faint, hesitant, and not at all what he expected. The bandit was terrified, of course, but there was no hint of theft or scheming. Instead, there was confusion, fear, and frustration. Lian furrowed his brow, tracing the threads of thought carefully.

He realized immediately that the man was not the thief they were looking for. Someone else had set him up, framing him to take the fall. Anger and uncertainty surged in Lian’s chest.

He looked at Kael and Mira ahead of him, laughing lightly about something Kael had said. They were unaware of the truth, completely trusting that he was only fulfilling his duty. Lian’s mind churned.

What am I supposed to do? he asked himself. He is tied up, the guild expects me to deliver him, and I have no evidence to present. The mission is simple: capture the bandit, hand him over, and return with the reward. Justice, in theory, will be handled by others. But if I stay silent, I will send an innocent man into chains, possibly into suffering or worse.

He weighed the options. Following the rules meant avoiding personal responsibility, but doing so felt hollow, even cruel. On the other hand, acting according to what he knew to be right would violate guild protocol, risk his reputation, and put him in a morally ambiguous position. His heart pounded as he debated.

Could he simply ignore it, hand the man over, and pretend everything was fine? Could he tell himself it was not his place to judge, not his duty to intervene beyond the letter of the mission? Or was inaction a betrayal of his conscience?

He felt the tug of empathy, stronger than it had been in a long time. He thought of the merchant whose money had been stolen, the helplessness he had felt then. Could he bear to repeat that feeling, knowing he could prevent harm this time?

After several long moments, Lian made his decision. He would free the man. The ropes slipped easily from the bandit’s wrists as Lian worked carefully, trying to remain silent. The man blinked, astonished, and whispered a quiet thank you. Lian nodded, unable to speak, his mind still racing with the implications.

Kael and Mira continued walking ahead, unaware of what had happened. The three of them had been moving along a forest trail, the afternoon sun dipping behind distant hills. Lian forced himself to blend in, taking his usual place in the middle of the group, keeping pace with the others. He decided he could manage the situation for now, improvising an explanation if necessary.

It was not long before Kael turned, sensing a change in the atmosphere.

“Hey, did he do something?” she asked suspiciously, glancing at Lian.

“No, everything went fine,” Lian said quickly, his voice calm. “The bandit managed to free himself and ran off before I could react. I’m sorry, I tried, but he was too fast.”

Mira frowned, her expression unreadable at first, then shifting to disappointment. “You’re saying you couldn’t do anything?”

Lian nodded, trying to maintain composure. “I couldn’t catch him in time. It was… unavoidable.”

Kael’s lips pressed together, her usual teasing energy replaced with a rare sternness. “You didn’t even try? That doesn’t sound like you.”

Lian swallowed, unable to reveal the truth. “I did, I just… failed.”

They continued walking in silence, the weight of unspoken words heavy among them. Mira’s brow remained furrowed, Kael’s eyes forward, thoughtful and a little annoyed. Lian’s chest ached. He knew the truth of what he had done, the moral choice he had made, but he also understood the consequences: mistrust, frustration, and the loss of the guild reward.

By the time they reached home, the forest had cast long shadows across the streets. Their small house seemed quieter than usual. Lian slipped inside first, closing the door gently behind them, feeling the strain of the day settle into his shoulders.

Kael and Mira followed, still silent. Kael muttered something under her breath, clearly annoyed, while Mira remained thoughtful, her disappointment palpable. The three of them unpacked slowly, the silence stretching between them like a cord taut with tension.

Lian set down the ropes he had used, keeping his secret locked away. He knew he had done the right thing, that freeing the innocent man aligned with his sense of justice, even if it conflicted with guild protocol. And yet, he could not shake the feeling of unease, the awareness that Kael and Mira’s disappointment was a consequence of his choice.

As night fell, the three of them sat around the table with empty hands and unspoken thoughts. The day had been long, challenging, and morally complex. They had caught the bandit, but justice had not been served in the way the guild expected. Lian stared at his hands, thinking about the balance between duty and conscience, and the quiet satisfaction that came with doing what he knew was right.

Kael finally broke the silence, her tone softer than before, but still tinged with irritation. “Next time, just try to follow the rules, alright?”

Lian nodded, giving her a small, almost imperceptible smile. “I’ll do my best.”

Mira’s eyes met his briefly, her expression unreadable, and then she looked away. The evening stretched on, quiet and reflective. Lian knew that the choices he made today would shape not only his own conscience but also the trust and understanding he shared with his companions.

Despite the tension, he felt a strange sense of clarity. Doing what was right was never simple. It was messy, complicated, and sometimes lonely. But for the first time in a long while, he felt certain that his actions, even in secret, mattered.

The three of them returned home empty-handed in terms of reward, but Lian carried with him a different kind of gain: the knowledge that he had acted according to his principles, even if it meant disappointing those he cared about. And that, he thought quietly, was worth more than gold.