The late afternoon sun cast golden lines through the high windows of Jinn's modest home. She stood in the backyard again, moving through sword forms in steady rhythm. The flow was natural now—muscle memory, breath, and silence in perfect step. Her thoughts were calm, but focused.
Each swing met the post with a dull thud, the repetition steady and sharp. She didn't fight for anything—just to keep moving. To keep remembering.
She exhaled slowly.
> "It's not for battle. Not even for fear. I just… don't want to forget."
A sharp clack echoed as her blade met the post once more.
And then—
A latch clicked.
Jinn turned her head.
Lavirra stepped in through the side gate, holding a rolled parchment under one arm. She let it close behind her with a soft thud.
Jinn blinked. "How did you...?"
Lavirra gave a faint smirk. "You showed me how that latch works, remember?"
Jinn exhaled with a small twitch of her eye. "Right. Remind me to regret that later."
Lavirra walked toward her, boots crunching faintly on the stone path.
"I figured I'd deliver this myself." She held up the scroll. "And see what you're doing back here with a wooden sword and no one to hit."
Jinn wiped her brow, resting the tip of her blade against the ground.
> "Just… routine."
Lavirra studied her for a moment.
Then—
"You're good. Not just passable-good. Trained. Balanced. Centered. Where did you learn it?"
Jinn hesitated. "Family. Before the academy."
Lavirra nodded once. "Explains the form."
She offered the scroll.
"This is a request form. Trial-level certification. Normally, I'd have one of the others deliver it, but… I saw your work. You're fit to judge new recruits. That requires more than paper skills."
Jinn took the scroll with both hands.
> "You're promoting me?"
"To provisional officer, yes. Not just a desk worker anymore. You'll oversee exams and verify field reports. It's not common for someone this new, but your performance speaks for itself. I need someone who can handle both mind and field—and not get pushed around by silver-tongued adventurers."
Jinn unrolled the scroll. "Is this from the Cindres Guild Master?"
"Signed by him and the council."
There was a moment of quiet.
Then, Jinn looked up. "Thank you. I won't disappoint."
Lavirra raised a brow. "You'd better not. I'm putting my name on this."
She turned, walking back toward the gate.
"Also," she added, not looking back, "next time, lock the latch properly. Or don't show me how to break in."
Jinn watched her go.
> "It wasn't breaking in if you knew how… was it?"
She sighed, then looked at the scroll again.
The sun dipped lower, casting long light across the stone.
She stood quietly, scroll in hand, and felt something shift.
Not a grand change—but a step.
Forward.