Quiet Arrangements

Quiet Arrangements

Morning had already settled over Ravenhold when Zio and Nyssa entered the city.

Sunlight stretched across the stone-paved streets and crept up the wooden and brick walls of narrow houses. Thin ribbons of smoke drifted from kitchen chimneys, carrying the scent of fresh bread and simmering broth. A cart rattled somewhere in the distance. A light breeze stirred loose strands of hair and brushed against their sleeves.

They walked side by side without haste.

“You’re going to the Guild?” Nyssa asked.

“For a moment,” Zio replied.

“To take a mission?”

“I’ll look first.”

Nyssa adjusted the strap of her bag across her shoulder. “If nothing’s interesting, you’re heading straight to the Beast Territory?”

Zio gave a small nod.

The Guild Hall stood at the end of the street, its broad doors already open.

Inside, low voices filled the lobby beneath the scrape of chairs across wooden floors. Parchment rustled beneath calloused hands as adventurers gathered in small groups around the mission boards. Sunlight streamed through the entrance, spreading across the worn planks.

Zio headed straight for the mission board along the far wall and scanned the notices in silence.

Behind the front desk, Selene looked up as the door opened. Her gaze settled on Zio before shifting to Nyssa.

“Nyssa. Over here.”

Nyssa turned toward the desk.

“Good morning, Selene.”

“Morning.”

Selene lowered her voice. “There’s something I want to discuss with you.”

Nyssa glanced toward Zio, who was still reading the mission board. “What is it?”

“Not here.”

Nyssa nodded and walked back to him.

“Well?”

“I’m heading to the Beast Territory,” Zio said.

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. I’ll stay here for a bit. I need to talk to Selene.”

Zio gave a brief nod. Without another word, he turned and left the lobby.

***

“Come with me,” Selene said.

She led Nyssa up the narrow staircase to the second floor. The sounds of the lobby faded behind them as they entered a small staff room lined with shelves and stacked ledgers.

“Give me a moment,” Selene said. “I’ll make some tea.”

Nyssa took a seat by the table. Sunlight filtered through a single window, catching faint motes of dust in the air.

Selene returned with two cups and set one in front of her. Steam rose in thin spirals.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Selene leaned back slightly. “How did you end up so close to Zio?”

Nyssa tilted her head. “It just happened.”

Selene let out a quiet breath. “Don’t tell me you’re living together.”

Nyssa’s lips curved. She did not answer immediately.

Selene’s eyes widened. “You are.”

“Relax,” Nyssa said lightly. “He behaves.”

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

A brief silence passed before Selene continued.

“You know the Royal Forces Convocation is coming up.”

“I know.”

“The Guild needs someone for the sparring exhibition.” Selene traced the rim of her cup with her thumb. “Sir John wants it to be Zio. But you know how he is.”

Nyssa lowered her gaze to the tea. The surface trembled faintly beneath the light.

“Have you ever seen him fight properly?” Selene asked.

“No.” Nyssa shook her head. “I’ve seen him train at night. Only a glimpse. Once I followed him into the forest when he went hunting. By the time I reached him, the beast was already down.”

Selene watched her for a moment. “So you’re curious too.”

“Yes.”

The answer came without hesitation.

“Can you talk him into it?”

Nyssa rested her chin against her fingers. “How much?”

“It’s generous.”

Nyssa considered it in silence.

She remembered him turning down extra coin without hesitation.

She remembered him standing before mission boards, reading every request while barely glancing at the reward.

“Don’t tell him it’s sparring,” she said at last. “Just say the Guild needs a representative there. To stand in. To observe.”

The words left her mouth with surprising ease.

She paused, cup halfway to her lips.

Selene’s mouth curved faintly. “Still the same.”

Nyssa lifted her cup. “He just needs a reason.”

Selene nodded once. “Alright.”

Outside the window, Ravenhold carried on as usual.

Beyond the city's stone streets and wooden walls, the forest stretched beneath the morning light.

***

The forest stood high and close around him, trunks rising straight toward a canopy that filtered the light into narrow shafts. Damp earth softened the ground beneath his boots. Tall grass brushed against low shrubs, and somewhere beyond the trees, a thin stream slipped quietly over stone.

Zio knelt at its edge.

His black straight-blade rested across his palm as he lowered it into the clear water. Blood loosened at once, unwinding into pale ribbons before disappearing into the current. He turned the blade with steady precision until the last trace washed from the steel, then lifted it free and laid it on a flat stone.

From a small pouch, he removed the beast core. It was still faintly warm. He dipped it into the stream and rinsed away the remaining stains, rotating it between his fingers until its natural sheen returned. The current carried the diluted red downstream without a sound.

He washed his hands, rubbing away dirt and dried blood, then dried the blade with a folded cloth. The motions were practiced and precise. The sword slid back into its sheath with a soft click. The core disappeared into the small sack at his belt.

Without lingering, he rose and crossed the high grass toward his horse, waiting beneath the shade where he had left it. The animal lifted its head and gave a low whinny. Zio untied the reins from the tree with unhurried hands.

Before mounting, his eyes swept through the trees.

Leaves stirred where the wind slipped between the branches. Insects hummed beneath the canopy. Water continued to murmur over stone.

He placed a foot in the stirrup and mounted in one smooth motion.

At a light pull on the reins, the horse stepped forward, its hooves sinking softly into the dark earth. They moved through the dense woodland at an even pace. Tall trunks crowded the path, breaking the sunlight into shifting bands across Zio's shoulders.

Gradually, the forest began to thin. The trees stood farther apart. Underbrush gave way to open ground. Sunlight spread across the path in broad patches instead of scattered fragments.

Behind him, the deeper forest disappeared beneath its familiar stillness.

Ahead, the outer woods stretched quietly beneath the morning sky.

***

The Guild building caught the afternoon light, its crest hanging motionless above the entrance. The side street was quieter than the main road, filled with the muted sound of hooves against stone and the faint scent of fresh bread drifting through the warm air.

Nyssa sat on a long wooden bench against the outer wall, a piece of wheat bread in her hand. Several shopping sacks rested neatly beside her boots. She ate without hurry, her gaze wandering along the street.

Zio guided his horse in from the road and slowed near the Guild.

Nyssa looked up at the sound. A small smile touched her lips.

He stopped beside a hitching post, dismounted, and tied the reins with practiced ease. Without a word, he stepped past her and entered the Guild.

Nyssa continued eating.

A few minutes later, the door opened again. Zio stepped out and walked toward the bench. He stopped beside her.

Nyssa took another piece of bread from one of the sacks and held it out.

“Eat first.”

Zio's gaze flicked to the shopping bags at her feet before he accepted the bread and sat beside her. He ate in silence.

“You can come with me tomorrow,” Nyssa said.

“Where?”

“South. I picked up some work.”

“What kind?”

“Just attending an event. With Selene and a few others from the Guild.”

At Selene's name, Zio turned slightly toward her.

“We’ll wait for them at the crossroads leading to Solcarys,” she added.

He gave a short nod and finished the bread.

Nyssa grinned.

“Alright. Let’s head back to the cabin. I bought quite a bit.”

They rose. Zio untied the horse while Nyssa gathered her sacks. Together, they left the Guild behind and headed toward the outskirts of Ravenhold.

***

The Guild Master’s chamber was quiet in the early evening. A mana lamp cast a steady white glow across the stone walls, shelves of ledgers, and the broad wooden desk beside the open window.

Alex sat behind it, posture straight, the Royal Forces Convocation invitation lying open before him.

His eyes moved across the formal script.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Come in.”

The door opened without haste. John stepped inside, closing it quietly behind him. A folded sheet of paper rested in one hand.

Alex looked up.

“Have you found someone willing?”

John’s mouth curved into a faint grin. He walked to the desk but remained standing.

“Yes. There may be a small surprise this year.”

Alex held his gaze for a moment.

“You’re certain?”

John met his eyes.

“We’ll see tomorrow.”

The mana lamp hummed softly in the still room.

Beyond the open window, voices drifted faintly through the Guild as evening settled over Ravenhold.