By the next morning, the name Raymond Vant was echoing through every crevice of the mine.
It passed from lips to ears in hurried whispers — the miners spoke it in fear, the overseers spat it like a curse, and even the rats seemed to scurry faster under his gaze.
I could feel his presence long after his black carriage vanished into the fog beyond the gates.
And I knew this wasn't over.
Because when he looked at me — really looked — he saw something.
I wasn't sure what.
But I'd felt it in his eyes, that sharp, calculating weight as if I were already another piece on his board.
---
That morning, I climbed anyway.
The cliffs felt steeper today, the wind colder, sharper — almost cutting my skin as I pulled myself hand over hand to the top. The stranger was waiting, as always, leaning casually against his boulder.
But this time, he was holding something new.
A small leather-bound book.
He tossed it to me as I caught my breath at the summit.
"What's this?" I asked.
He just gave me one of his crooked smiles.
"Knowledge," he said. "You'll need it."
I opened the book carefully, the pages yellowed and brittle. The script inside was written in an elegant, curling hand — a language I didn't recognize, but there were diagrams too. Sword forms. Stances. Footwork.
And at the very back, a single phrase written in Common:
"Find the Guild. Your path begins there."
I looked up sharply.
"Guild?"
The stranger's expression darkened, just for a moment.
"A place for those who still have fight left in them," he said at last. "Men and women who refuse to let themselves be crushed. You might belong there one day. But first…"
He straightened, drawing his sword in one smooth, whispering motion.
"You have to survive me."
---
The drills that followed were unlike anything before.
Today he didn't go easy.
Today he didn't let me catch my breath.
He struck again and again, relentless, forcing me to parry, sidestep, roll — and every mistake earned me a new bruise or a cut on my knuckles. My arms felt like lead within minutes, but my feet kept moving.
Because something in me refused to stop.
Even when he finally disarmed me, knocking my blade skittering across the stone, I lunged for it without thinking — only for him to plant his boot on the blade, holding it fast.
Then he crouched down so our eyes met.
And in his scarred face, I saw just the faintest glimmer of respect.
"That's what I want to see," he said softly. "That fire. Don't ever lose it."
He let me take the blade again and sheathed his own.
"Tomorrow," he said, turning away, "you'll start learning how to use it properly. And soon… you'll need it."
---
When I climbed down that afternoon, my legs were shaking.
But something strange was waiting for me at the bottom of the cliffs.
A boy — no, the boy — was standing by the path, leaning casually against a post as if he'd been waiting all morning.
The page.
The one who always disappeared before I could even think of calling out.
But now he didn't move.
His cap still shaded his eyes, but there was no mistaking the faint smirk on his lips.
"You're not very subtle, you know," he said without preamble.
I froze.
"What?"
"You're not the only one who can watch," he said lightly, pushing off the post. "Climbing cliffs every morning. Training. The old man up there. You think nobody notices?"
I stayed silent.
He stepped closer, close enough that I could finally see his face properly — and the smirk softened just slightly.
"Careful," he said quietly. "People like Raymond don't like surprises. And you…"
His eyes flicked to the sword strapped to my back.
"…you're a very dangerous surprise."
He turned to go then, but I couldn't stop myself from calling out.
"Wait — what do you know about Raymond?"
The boy stopped just long enough to glance back over his shoulder.
"Plenty," he said. "And if you're smart, you'll keep your head down and stay alive."
Then he was gone, melting into the crowd of miners and overseers like smoke on the wind.
---
That night, I didn't sleep.
I sat awake, staring at the battered book the stranger had given me, turning the words over in my head: Find the Guild. Your path begins there.
Was that what he'd meant all along? Was he training me for something bigger?
And if so… how much bigger?
Somewhere out in the darkness beyond the mine, there was a whole world I'd never seen.
And for the first time in years, I wanted to see it.
---
But fate, it seemed, had other plans for me first.
The next morning, Klaus came for me.
This time he wasn't drunk.
This time, he was sober, cold, and smiling.
And he wasn't alone.
Two men stood behind him — not miners, but strangers in fine cloaks, each with a golden sigil pinned to their chests.
I'd seen that sigil before.
It was Raymond's.
The man himself didn't bother to come, but he didn't need to. These were his hounds.
"You," Klaus sneered, pointing his whip at me. "The Lord wants a word."
---
They didn't bother dragging me to the manor. They took me to a small stone building at the edge of the mine — one of the overseers' offices.
Inside, one of the strangers sat at the desk, tapping his gloved fingers against the wood. His companion stood by the door, arms crossed.
"You're Lynn Holt," the seated man said without looking up from a document in front of him.
It wasn't a question.
"Yes," I said evenly.
At that, he finally looked up — and I saw the same cold calculation in his eyes that I'd seen in Raymond's.
"You've been causing quite a stir," he said softly. "Climbing cliffs. Brawling with miners. Interfering with the overseers. Why is that, I wonder?"
I didn't answer.
He smiled faintly.
"Well," he said, pushing the document aside, "Lord Raymond takes an interest in promising young men. And I… have been instructed to keep an eye on you."
He stood and came around the desk, stopping just in front of me.
"You'd do well to remember your place, Holt," he murmured. "You don't want to make enemies you can't handle. Not yet."
Then he straightened, brushing invisible dust from his cloak.
"You may go."
---
When I stepped back outside, the air felt heavier somehow — as if the whole mine was pressing down on me, daring me to stumble.
But I didn't.
I walked back to the barracks, sat on my bunk, and stared at the sword on my lap.
And I made a decision.
If Raymond wanted to watch me, fine.
Let him watch.
Let him see exactly what kind of fire he'd tried to bury.
Because sooner or later, I was going to burn everything he'd built to the ground.
---
That night, I climbed again.
And when the stranger saw me standing on the cliffs, a faint smile tugged at his scarred face.
"You're still here," he said.
I nodded.
"Good," he said, drawing his blade. "Then let's see if you're ready to stop being a rat… and start being a wolf."
---
The whispers of steel were growing louder.
And soon… the world would hear them too.