The guild hall wasn’t far from where Seth and the team had their meeting, so Seth walked its spacious halls thirty minutes after.

He perused the contract boards with a middling disinterest. Glances and half noted turns gave him no newer information than he already had. The requests pinned to each board were filled with half-truths and unintended lies. At best they held only possibilities and potentials. Considering it was the way with adventure requests, he didn’t hold it against anyone. Adventurers, after all, were in it for the adventure. What was the point in receiving a contract that simply instructed him to ‘go there and kill that’?

But that was what we wanted, a mind complained.

Seth’s shoulders twitched in the smallest shrug. “Tell me when last we ever got what we want.”

Silence met his request and he nodded.

“Exactly.”

He left the board and moved on to the next. Word of mouth had it that the hunter association had more interesting boards. Different kinds of beasts in different kinds of situations were always their plight. And the gears they wore were always flashyr, always fancier.

In the chaos of passersby stepping in and out of the reach of his awareness, a boy his age approached him.

Seth kept his eyes fixed to the board, glancing and focused but completely ignorant of it now. They were in the guild hall, a place where violence wasn’t merely frowned upon but strictly punished, powerfully and immediately. No one would dare perpetrate such acts here. And he’d offended no one since returning to West Blue, at least no one that was not his team mate.

Still, his mind prepared himself and his body slowly slipped into alertness. He blamed the seminary and being around testy silver mages for so long for this.

The boy came up beside him and stared up at the board. After a while he reached a hand forward, towards a contract that required a team of at least four, then pulled it back without taking it. A frown creased his lips and his forehead wrinkled. He seemed indecisive, but somehow it didn’t feel towards the requests on the board. When he reached up again, the request was a guide through a forest known to have reia beasts constantly lurking, with a reputation of missing wagons. It required a team of eight.

When he retracted his hand, uncertainty drawing gods and angels on his face, Seth kept any emotion from what part of his face could be seen.

“You’re Iron, too, right?” the boy asked, eyes still firmly on the board.

Seth moved his attention to the Iron adventurer’s tag he’d since noticed hanging from the boy’s neck. When he tried to read its contents without turning his eyes from the board, he found he could not. Behind his shawl he smirked at his minds. For all their awareness of his environment, they couldn’t read a simple card if he wasn’t looking at it.

Says who? One of them challenged. There’s nothing hidden from us.

Another was quick to support. We just don’t feel like it. Not right now.

There was a hesitancy in its words like a child who didn’t believe an adult would believe the lie he was telling. It made Seth chuckle. The sound was light and easy, barely loud enough to be heard, and if it was heard, it would’ve been pleasing to listen to.

“Weird sound for an adventurer,” his new companion noted.

Seth took his time answering. “You want something from me. What is it?”

The boy took a deep breath and turned to him. Whatever he’d been pretending to look at on the board was completely ignored now.

“Sorry about that,” he said, scratching behind his neck. “I didn’t mean to intrude… or pretend.”

Seth continued to stare at the board. That the man had given up his pretense did not mean he had to.

The adventurer offered his hand beside him. “My name’s Nosam, I’m Iron, and I’m looking for teammates.”

Seth nodded slowly, understandingly. He reached up at a contract that spoke of attacks in a nearby settlement. It said the settlers were not sure what creatures were attacking but that they came in the night and left before the touch of light. There were already four deaths over the course of eight days and four missing.

It was a recent request.

Seth tapped it. “What do you think it is?”

Nosam dropped his empty hand and leaned towards Seth, reaching to read the request. He took his time reading it, most likely seeking out the answer as he did. While he did that, Seth wondered if it had been necessary for him to lean in so close. The boy either had no concept of personal space or really couldn’t see it. The latter was suspicious considering it was proof of too poor an eye sight for an Iron.

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

“Easy,” Nosam said, returning to his place. “Night prowlers.”

Seth moved his eye to the boy for the first time since their encounter. “Why night prowlers?”

“It’s simple. They move in packs, and one adult male is enough to last a pack an entire day. Also, their black scales allow them blend into the night and they stay away from places with too much crowd. Finally,” he reached across and tapped the contract. “They usually attack settlements close to bodies of water.”

Seth made a sound that could’ve been a grunt but wasn’t quite one. He hadn’t known the settlement was near a body of water. Over a month in West Blue and he still hadn’t familiarized himself with much of its local geography.

You think we should change that? A mind asked.

Seth shook his head.

“You disagree?” Nosam asked.

Seth did. But he gave no voice to his opinion, instead, he took the contract from the board and folded it. He doubted the problem was the result of night prowlers. But if it was, he knew enough about night prowlers not to be bothered.

“So…” he gave his attention to Nosam, slipping the folded contract into his pocket. “What can I help you with?”

“Just looking for a teammate for an expedition,” Nosam answered. “It shouldn’t take too long to finish since we’re actually going to be exploring a cleared nest.”

Nosam was a tall man. Then again, everyone was taller than Seth. In objectivity, Nosam was maybe five feet and nine inches, ten inches at the most. He had a jerry coil of short, dark, blonde hair with black eyes. He had a square jaw like models of old world magazines. The ones that were captioned ‘the all american look.’

He wore a padded shirt, with armor plates at his shoulder and his elbows with a massive one protecting his chest. His black trouser carried the same plating at his knees. Each one was properly polished. They did not speak of wealth. However, they did not speak of poverty either.

Seth nodded as if the boy’s words were sensible. “How many do you have so far?”

Nosam thumbed over his shoulder.

Seth’s gaze followed its direction to find a group standing off to the corner. Each one of them wore different types of armor. One of them stood out in a high pointy hat.

He counted seven in total.

He blinked slowly. “Isn’t that a lot for an already cleared nest?”

“It was a silver nest,” Nosam said. His eyes drifted to Seth’s rifle case and he fought his eyes to return to Seth. “We can’t be too careful,” he added sheepishly, knowing he’d been caught in the act.

“And you need a ranged support.”

Nosam looked down, ashamed.

We suggest we stop carrying the case around, a mind opined, angry.

Supported, another added with annoyance at the edges of its thoughts.

Seth dismissed the boy’s shame with a smile that met his eyes. Now that he faced him, his minds could gleam more from the iron tag rested on his chest. Nosam Beltwich, it read.

Seth knew the name. He couldn’t quite put a finger on where or how, though. It was in his memory somewhere, like trying to remember his first fight or his first pain. It was there, not hiding, not even teasing playfully. It was merely a thing too small and insignificant to be picked. It was a single dust mite in a dirty room.

The other thing he noted was the four stars etched into the tag. One more than his. A momentary mood clouded his mind. Jealousy might’ve been the right word to describe it but he didn’t think it was. Simple men were jealous. Mages who thought themselves superior for no more than their authority or their upbringing were jealous. A seminarian was not. Still, the single extra star did make him uncomfortable.

We’re curious of something, a mind thought.

What’s that?

Isn’t the reason we think we can take Beth because of our training as seminarians?

There was a thoughtful pause. It is.

So we think we’re strong enough to face a silver because of our upbringing.

Seth took a moment to intentionally ignore the thought. Then he returned his focus to Nosam. “How long did you say this should take?”

“A day.” Nosam shrugged, looking at his eyes. “Two at the most.”

Two days wasn’t so much. He doubted his team would miss him if he was gone for two days. If they did, then they’d have to hold off on their complaints until he got back.

“I can spare a day or two.” He reached up and touched his shawl. In the month since he’d begun wearing it, it had never slipped from his face but still he checked every so often. It was becoming a habit much like Drew’s phantom glasses.

Seth gestured towards Nosam’s team. “Lead the way.”

Nosam obeyed with an almost invisible confusion. There was a look in his eyes that suggested he’d expected more of a fight from Seth. Amusing as it was to see, Seth ignored it.

“What kinds of fragments did you absorb?” Nosam asked as they walked.

Seth shrugged. It could’ve been a black one and he wouldn’t know. For a moment his mind went to his old room in the Darnesh residence and settled on a colorless orb the size of his hand with streaks of lightning playing inside it. He wondered if he would be able to absorb it. A unique fragment for a unique case.

“It was rude of me to ask, but I just had to,” Nosam explained. “I’ve just never seen eyes like yours, and I’ve seen my fair share of mages.”

Seth took no offence. Neither did he show much of a sign of still following the conversation. One of his minds, however, drew his attention to something else.

We didn’t accomplish our daily quest this morning.

Seth acknowledged it with a slow nod and naught more.

Why we keep trying to remind him is pointless, another mind told the one that had brought it to his attention.

Agreed. This from another. He hasn’t done a single one since we got here.

They were whining, nagging without actually nagging.

It’s like he lives for the consequence now.

Seth smiled, amused. “How else am I supposed to get any experience outside shooting.”

Beside him Nosam missed a step but didn’t stumbled. “I know you might not like it,” he apologized, eyes darting from Seth’s sword to his briefcase. “But I promise you’ll get time at the front when we run into any beast. It’s just good to have a full team, just in case.”

Seth nodded distractedly, not really paying attention. He’d been exploring with a team of silvers against silver beasts for the past month now. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to explore with a team of Iron.