The man with the braided beard lowered his hand, and everything moved at once.
Kael didn't hesitate. The moment that hand dropped, they set their feet and let instinct carry them.
Rhyven—the braided man, heavyset, built like the base of a mountain—came in first. Not quick, but deliberate, like he had all the time in the world to crush Kael. The wooden blade in his hand swung low and brutal, testing, not yet serious.
Kael brought up their staff, and the impact jarred them down to their ankles. It wasn't a strike meant to win. It was a strike meant to feel them out.
---
The second evaluator was the opposite. Slim, fast, with a spear that darted like a snake. The thrust came for Kael's ribs, and Kael twisted to avoid it, only to find the third evaluator had already stepped in from the right.
An open palm strike—sharp and sudden.
Kael blocked, but the force sent them stumbling back a half-step.
"Good recovery," Rhyven rumbled. He didn't sound impressed so much as taking note.
---
The ring echoed with the hollow sounds of wood against wood. Kael tried to stay calm, to remember the lessons of a year and a half spent switching parties: watch the feet, watch the shoulders, don't get locked on one opponent.
They couldn't win, and they knew it. This was survival.
---
The three evaluators pressed harder. Rhyven advanced like a wall, pushing with strength that would flatten someone less stubborn. Every blow was a test. Every pause was a question.
And Kael kept answering, not with words but with movement.
---
Minutes blurred. Sweat slid into Kael's eyes. Their arms ached, their legs burned, but they kept moving, letting the staff become an extension of breath. Each hit they blocked sent a jolt down their spine, but they learned with every one. Adjusting, tightening. The same way they'd learned to adapt to every party they'd ever joined.
---
Rhyven wasn't speaking much now. He didn't need to. Kael could feel the intent behind every strike: Prove to me you've grown. Prove to me you belong here.
---
At one point, Rhyven deliberately left a gap. It was subtle—a momentary dip in his guard, the kind of thing that begged for a reckless counter.
Kael saw it. And they didn't take it.
Instead, they braced for the counter-blow that followed, letting their staff slide down to catch the incoming strike.
The crowd made a noise then—a soft ripple of approval.
Rhyven's mouth curved in the faintest grin. "You're learning."
---
The test continued. Kael's breath came rough now, but their focus didn't break. The other evaluators pressed them faster, the spear striking like quicksilver, the palm strikes threatening to knock them off balance, but Kael managed to redirect, to hold their ground when they needed to and move when it was smarter.
---
There was no final dramatic strike. The test ended as suddenly as it had begun: Rhyven raised his free hand, and the three evaluators stepped back. The hall fell silent except for the sound of Kael's breathing.
For a long moment, Rhyven just studied them. The braided beard, damp with sweat, framed a face carved by time and battle.
"You didn't take the bait," he said finally.
Kael wiped an arm across their forehead. "I knew it was bait."
"And you didn't panic," Rhyven continued. "Even when your back was to the wall."
Kael said nothing. They didn't need to.
---
The three evaluators looked at one another. One of them nodded. The slim spear-wielder smiled faintly. And Rhyven… he lowered his blade and spoke loud enough for the whole hall to hear.
---
"Congratulations, Kael. You've passed. From this day forward, you are no longer a Sapling."
The hall murmured. Some clapped.
Kael stood there, chest heaving, still gripping the staff. It wasn't joy that hit them first. It was a quiet, fierce relief.
---
Rhyven gestured for them to follow.
---
In a smaller room at the back of the hall, the ceremony was simple. They removed the badge on Kael's chest—green and rough-edged, marked with a carved sapling—and handed over a new one: the smooth, darker-stained badge of a Branch.
Kael stared at it for a moment, the weight of it settling in their hand.
Rhyven said quietly, "Don't forget how hard you worked to earn this. And don't stop working now."
"I won't," Kael said.
---
Outside the hall, waiting, Ryn was the first to speak. "I told you you'd pass."
Kael glanced at him. "It still feels strange."
Ryn smiled, but there was a shadow in it. "It means the rest of us need to catch up."
Kael could see it in his eyes: the happiness was real. But so was the longing.
---
That night, Kael sat alone, holding the new badge. It didn't feel like a prize. It felt like a door. A door that had just opened onto a path that was longer and harsher than ever.
And Kael, sixteen years old and no longer a Sapling, intended to walk every step of it.
---
The next morning, the hall was quieter. Most of the Saplings who had been watching the day before had already left for their own contracts. Only a few Branch-ranked adventurers lingered, adjusting their new gear or talking with evaluators about the results.
Kael came early, not to boast but because they had been asked to meet with Rhyven.
The veteran sat at a table near the back, leaning on one elbow with a mug of something steaming in front of him. His braided beard was tied tighter than yesterday, as if the test had been nothing more than a minor errand.
"You came," he said, looking up as Kael approached.
"You asked."
Rhyven gestured at the seat across from him. "Sit."
---
For a moment, the only sound was the muffled voices of the hall.
"You've got a good head," Rhyven said finally. "Most Saplings come in thinking it's all about speed or strength. You know how many fail? Ninety percent. They break the moment someone puts real pressure on them."
"I had good examples," Kael said.
"And you watched them," Rhyven said, pointing with his mug. "That's the thing. You don't just follow orders—you pay attention. That'll keep you alive."
---
Rhyven set the mug down, expression sharpening slightly. "But now that you're Branch, things change. You'll have more freedom. More choice. That means more ways to die. And more ways to screw up."
Kael nodded once. "I understand."
"Do you?" Rhyven asked. "Because I've seen Branches who didn't. They take a contract two levels higher than they can handle, thinking they'll make a name. You know where we find them? Pieces."
Kael met his gaze. "I don't plan on dying."
Rhyven grinned, slow and wolfish. "Good. That's a start."
---
Kael stood to leave, but Rhyven added, "One more thing."
They paused.
"If you ever decide you want a team of your own," Rhyven said, "don't wait too long. You've got the instincts for it. You just need the trust."
Kael thought about that for a moment. "I'm not ready yet."
"No one ever is," Rhyven said. "But when you are, you'll know."
---
Word spread fast.
By the time Kael stepped out into the street, three different clerks from different annexes had already received the report. Branch. The name carried weight, not as much as higher ranks, but enough to mark the difference between a beginner and someone who had survived long enough to be trusted.
---
That afternoon, Kael sent a letter home. They didn't know if the words were right, but they kept it simple:
> Passed the evaluation.
Now a Branch.
Will visit when work allows.
– Kael
---
It took nearly a week for the reply to reach him. When it came, the paper was creased and faintly smudged, the ink written in the careful strokes of his father's hand.
> We are proud.
And worried.
Both truths live together in us.
You carry a heavy path.
Come home when you can.
At the bottom was another line, lighter, as if written after some hesitation:
> Your mother says to keep your heart steady and not let the badge own you.
---
Kael read that line more than once. He could imagine her saying it, arms crossed, a mix of warmth and sternness. He wondered if she had been the one to insist the letter include the word "proud" first instead of "worried."
---
Back at the Guild hall, there was a different energy around him. Not open praise—Guilds weren't like that—but acknowledgment. When Kael signed up for a contract, the clerk didn't give them the faint skeptical look she'd given before.
When a Sapling asked a question about how to handle a fight with swamp creatures, Kael found himself answering without thinking. The boy's shoulders straightened as he listened.
---
That evening, Kael took a quiet walk outside the town. Branch. It wasn't a massive leap, but it felt like a promise.
He looked at the badge on his chest—no longer green, but a deep, dark wood color carved with a stylized branch stretching upward. It was simple, but it held weight.
Every step forward from here would only get harder. That didn't scare him. It was what he wanted.
---
As the sun lowered, Ryn found Kael again.
"You've been avoiding the celebration," Ryn said.
"There was a celebration?"
"Some of the other Saplings made one up. You should have seen them trying to figure out how to toast with cheap cider."
Kael huffed a small laugh. "I didn't think it was necessary."
"That's because you don't realize what you've done," Ryn said. "Most people take years to leave Sapling. You did it in a year and a half."
Kael shrugged. "I had help."
Ryn studied him, the sunset catching the gold in his hair. "You know, it's strange," he said softly. "Every time you take a step forward, it feels like you're moving further away from everyone else. But somehow, it makes me want to follow."
---
There was a pause, then Kael said, "You could."
Ryn smiled, faintly bitter and faintly hopeful. "Maybe I will."
---
That night, Kael returned to his room and laid out his pack. Tomorrow would be a new contract. New risks. But tonight, he let himself breathe.
The next stage had begun.
---
Two days after the evaluation, Kael's first Branch contract came through.
It wasn't grand or glorious—it never was. A caravan escort through two villages, a stretch of road rumored to have been hit by thieves twice in the last month. For most Branch adventurers, it was the kind of contract you could almost do on autopilot.
For Kael, it was different. This was the first time they walked into a Guild hall with a Branch badge.
---
The difference was subtle, but it was there.
The Saplings waiting in line glanced at them, then away quickly. The clerk spoke with them more directly, without that slight hesitation that had been there before. And when the caravan master arrived, he looked relieved to see someone whose badge meant a certain level of competence.
It wasn't about respect. It was about expectation. People looked at Branch adventurers and expected them to deliver.
Kael intended to.
---
His new party for this contract consisted of a Branch archer named Mira, a Trunk-ranked shield-bearer called Darnel, and two Saplings.
The Saplings eyed Kael curiously at first. They'd heard the stories: the staff fighter who drifted from group to group, who didn't stay long enough to form a party. A Branch now, but still someone who carried themselves like they belonged in motion.
"You're the one who passed on your first try," one of the Saplings said as they walked out of the city.
Kael didn't deny it.
"Guess that means you'll be running circles around us."
"No," Kael said. "It means I'll expect you to run just as fast."
That earned a grin, nervous but genuine.
---
The road stretched out under a pale spring sun.
For the first day, the caravan moved without incident. Kael spent much of it observing, walking alongside Mira, occasionally trading a few quiet words.
Mira was quick with her bow and quicker with her eyes. "You don't talk much," she said during a lull.
"Not much to say."
"Plenty to see, though," she said. "You watch everything. That's good. That's Branch thinking."
---
On the second day, the ambush came.
A handful of bandits—desperate, under-equipped, hoping to make an easy target of the two Saplings in the group.
They weren't expecting the Branch who moved like the ground itself had decided to push them forward.
Kael's staff blurred. The first bandit was disarmed in a heartbeat. The second took one step toward a wagon before finding a wooden shaft hooked around his ankle, pulling him flat. Mira's arrows whistled past, fast and precise, pinning others in place until Darnel advanced with the shield.
The fight was over quickly. No one died.
When the last of them fled, the caravan master stared for a moment. "Branch, huh?"
Kael nodded once. "Branch."
---
That night, by the campfire, Mira sat across from Kael, sharpening an arrowhead with slow, careful motions.
"You could have gone harder," she said.
Kael raised a brow. "And?"
"And you didn't," she said. "You chose control."
Kael didn't respond.
"That's good," Mira said. "You'll live longer that way."
---
The two Saplings watched from the other side of the fire. One of them whispered something to the other, and Kael caught the sound of a single word: "different."
Kael pretended not to hear it.
---
The rest of the contract went smoothly. When the caravan reached its destination, the master handed over the signed document with a firm handshake.
"Never thought I'd see a Branch this young," he said. "Good work."
---
On the walk back, Mira asked a question that caught Kael off guard.
"What do you want out of this?" she asked. "The Guild. The contracts. The climbing. What's the end for you?"
Kael thought about it, staring at the horizon.
"I don't know if there is an end," they said finally. "I just know I don't want to stop."
---
Back at the hall, Kael submitted the completed contract, the badge on their chest catching the light.
It wasn't much in the grand scheme of things. It wasn't a feat that would make bards sing. But it was the first step. The first step after leaving Sapling behind.
---
That night, Kael wrote in their notebook again, the pages worn from use:
> First Branch contract.
Nothing fancy. Learned Mira's timing. Watched the Saplings move.
I need to be better.
Every step forward makes the next step harder. That's fine.
---
The next morning, a letter from home was waiting.
> We heard from the Guild.
Be proud, but be careful.
Your mother insists: Branch is not the top of the tree. It is still just the middle.
---
Kael folded the letter and tucked it into their pack.
Kael stepped out of the hall, feeling the road ahead pull at them again. Kael wasn't planning to stop. Not after Branch. Not after the next rank. Not after the next ten.
The wind caught the edge of their cloak, and Kael smiled faintly.
---
The boy who had started this journey as a Sapling was gone.
Branch had begun.
And for Kael, that was only the beginning.