Guild Master

Colors swirled in their vision, the image slowly reforming together showing them now in a small clearing surrounded by trees. Dizzy, their bodies staggered, breath catching in their throats.

The older man stood waiting, unsurprised. “Don’t rush. Let yer body settle—no fancy stabilization runes here.”

After a few minutes, their nausea faded, and they followed him further into the clearing—toward a looming structure.

A manor. Four, maybe five stories high, with rustic beams and heavy stonework. Expansions of mismatched style jutted from the original frame, each addition distinct yet bound by a consistent core design.

The angled front corner bore twin doors, weathered but imposing. Ivy crept up the walls, many windows boarded over, and cracks marred the foundation. Decay gnawed at it, yet its sheer presence spoke of its history, and craftsmanship, shining through the ware.

Che gawked. “Wow. This place is crazy cozy. I thought it’d be a dump like the village. Ow!”

Logan bumped her shoulder in rebuke, but the man only chuckled.

“Haha! Well, she’s seen better days. Finances have been rough, storms ain’t helped either. But don’t worry—she’s sturdy. Sturdy enough to take a few more beatings.”

As they reached the door, Che brushed her hand across the cold, damp wood. The frame was dented and scarred; the marks of a long history etched into its surface.

When the heavy doors creaked open, the group stepped into a rustic, mostly empty hall. A broad staircase led upward, while to the left a set of doors stood closed, and ahead an archway opened into a larger chamber where sunlight streamed through tall, windowed doors.

Before they could take in the details, the man who had brought them was already leading the way up the stairs. “I know she’s a beaut, but ya gotta see Osric first, he’s our Guild Master, ya see. Technically ya ain’t allowed in here without his permission.”

They climbed the steep, worn steps, their steps echoing with deep thuds and followed him along a short corridor until he stopped at a heavy wooden door.

Knock. Knock.

Without waiting for an answer, the old man twisted the handle and stepped inside. “Osric, we’ve got us some lost adventurers.”

Behind a cluttered desk sat a man in his thirties or forties, though his frail frame and sickly pallor made him appear possibly older. His skin was drawn tight, his hair snow-white and trailing to his waist, his cloudy blue eyes dim with fatigue. He coughed before speaking, his voice thin but steady. “Oh, Gavin. Lost adventurers?”

Forcing himself upright, he greeted them with a warm smile despite the strain it clearly placed on his body. “Welcome.”

Gavin filled in the gaps with his usual casual tone. “They came out nearby, can’t remember their home. Proper lost, at least so they say.”

Osric’s face softened with pity as he regarded them. “I see. I’m sorry.”

The repeated apologies—and the sympathy in his gaze—only made the group more uncomfortable. They looked between one another uneasily, self-pity bubbling beneath the surface as the fog over their memories of home refused to lift.

Osric motioned for them to sit in the simple chairs scattered around his office. From a cupboard he drew a set of cups and poured steaming water tinged with faint color. Gavin quickly moved to help distribute them, though Joseph waved his hand in refusal, Tokko following his lead.

Han accepted a cup, sipping quietly as memories stirred behind his eyes. His shoulders eased slightly. Osric smiled at the sight.

“How are you holding up?” Osric asked gently. “It’s a terrible thing to endure. I can’t imagine what you must feel.”

Han glanced back at his companions. Their somber expressions weighed on him, but he smiled faintly and turned back. “We’re moving forward. It hurts, yes—but we still have each other, and that’s enough to keep walking toward the future.”

Che and Logan perked up at his words, nodding faintly. Joseph, standing further off, said nothing. His eyes lingered on the room itself, scrutinizing every detail—the layout, the books, the mannerisms of Osric and Gavin.

“That resolve is good,” Osric said warmly. “Too many of the lost fall into despair, letting their will wither away. A tragic fate.”

Joseph finally cut in. “You keep saying we’re Lost? And it doesn’t sound like you’re meaning that in the usual sense.” The others’ faces, similarly were curious but didn’t plan on asking, except Han who already knew but acted as if he didn’t.

Osric nodded gravely. “You’ve not heard the term? The ‘lost’ are people who, for reasons unknown, find themselves torn from their homes. Stranded here—or elsewhere. They can’t go back.”

A shadow passed over his expression. “And worse, as time goes on, their memories of their home fade. Even in the rare cases where one returns, their families no longer remember them. It’s as if they never existed.”

Che’s lips parted, her hands clenching on her knees. Logan’s jaw tightened.

“But don’t despair,” Osric quickly added. “Whatever force strips away those memories also seems to help people adapt. Many of the lost build new lives—some even rise to renown. Not always for good reasons, but… that is still something.”

He gave a reassuring nod toward Gavin before continuing. “We’ll see that you’re looked after, at least for tonight. We don’t have much, but Gavin has connections in town. If you prefer, we can arrange quarters there, possibly an inn room if you’d rather not stay here.”

The party, given a few options and time to think, thanked him and soon left, Gavin leading them up to the fourth floor. The hall was lined with empty rooms, unoccupied and waiting. Han gathered them all into a single chamber to discuss their next step.

The silence stretched heavy. Han waited patiently, while Che and Logan sat slumped in their own thoughts. Joseph, however, soon lost his patience. With a loud sigh, he broke it.

“Are we staying here or not? This room’s too small for all of us to spend too much time discussing anything. And honestly, none of that ‘lost’ talk affects us. I’ve got questions, sure, but first I need to know what the plan is. Sitting around like this is a waste of time.

Also…” Joseph was about to continue but stopped upon seeing Han’s expression. His sharp eyes and serious expression told Joseph to stop, before easing into a more casual look.

Han gave a brief glance at the others and nodded. “I… think we should stay here tonight. Tomorrow we’ll talk about the rest.” With little response from Logan or Che, Han could only look to Joseph and Tokko, Joseph being the one to nod, slightly annoyed.

With neither having anything to say in this enclosed space, Joseph rose and moved to the door, pausing only briefly. “Deal with them however you want. I’ll follow your lead for now, so don’t bother asking me about basic things—if I can hunt, eat, and get stronger, that’s all I need to stick around at the moment.”

Tokko quickly joined him, and together they stepped into the corridor. Thinking about it all he couldn’t help but shake his head.

‘The hell is going on. First, we’ve left the dungeon, aiming for a town or something, then the next thing we followed some random old guy through a portal, to god knows where. Let alone this whole ‘Lost’ bullshit, losing memories of your home? As if you just lose memories like so simply.’

Sighing at the end of his thought he turned to Tokko. “You’re not hung up on that ‘lost’ nonsense, right?” He said quietly.

Tokko shook her head at once, though a flicker of something deeper still flashed in her eyes, undenounced to him.

“Good. Then don’t worry about it. I don’t get why they’re playing so heavily into the role. Come on—let’s do something useful.”

Their footsteps echoed faintly on the old boards. A creak behind them made Joseph glance back, spotting Han stepping out of the room.