The midday sun hung high over Cindres, casting pale light across the rooftops. Inside the guild, a low murmur filled the air—boots on stone, papers rustling, conversations overlapping.
Jinn sat behind her desk in the back office, flipping through a half-filled request log. Her fingers moved with calm precision, sorting forms into tidy stacks.
A sharp knock echoed against the doorframe.
"You busy?"
She looked up.
Lavirra stepped inside, arms folded, a faint smile tugging at the edge of her mouth.
Jinn straightened. "I was just finishing this request batch."
"Good. Come with me."
Jinn blinked. "Where to?"
"Outside."
No further explanation. Just the same confident tone Lavirra always used.
Jinn stood, brushing her coat into place, and followed her out.
---
They reached the training yard behind the guild—a square of worn dirt and faded targets, mostly ignored except by the occasional brawler or beginner adventurer.
A wooden sword was already propped against the post.
Lavirra picked it up and tossed it to her.
Jinn caught it reflexively.
"What is this for?" she asked.
Lavirra stepped back. "A test. Quiet one."
Jinn tilted her head. "Of what?"
Lavirra's smile widened slightly. "Call it a shortcut. I'm considering promoting you. But I need to be sure. Not just of your paperwork—but of you."
Jinn hesitated.
"I'm not here to duel," she said.
"You won't. Just show me how you move. Five minutes."
Jinn glanced around—no crowd, no stage, just dry dirt and faded lines. She gave a quiet sigh.
Then, she moved.
At first, simple forms. Steady strikes, guard transitions, footwork. But her body remembered more than she expected. Her feet glided smoothly, her turns sharp. Her blade danced through the air in arcs her past self had long mastered.
Lavirra said nothing—just watched, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
Jinn ended with a fluid spin and grounded stance, chest rising with her breath.
Silence followed.
Lavirra finally spoke. "You weren't trained by just anyone."
Jinn said nothing.
Lavirra nodded once. "Your blade control is cleaner than most E-rankers. Maybe even D. You don't waste energy. You're fast, but measured."
Jinn lowered the sword. "So?"
Lavirra stepped closer. "So you're not just some scholar behind a desk. You've got field sense. That changes things."
Jinn tilted her head. "Are you saying... the position's open?"
"Not officially. But if I recommend you for Officer rank, you skip two years of grind. That's rare. The others will raise eyebrows."
"Then why take the risk?"
Lavirra's voice softened. "Because I know talent when I see it. And because we need someone who doesn't flinch when things get strange. You proved that the day you handled those temple forms without blinking. This just sealed it."
Jinn held the sword loosely in one hand.
She looked away. "I'm not a hero. I just... want a quiet life."
"Then keep it quiet," Lavirra said. "But use your strength where it counts."
Another pause. The breeze stirred the dust.
"You'll start trial duties tomorrow," Lavirra added. "Half-desk, half-field. You'll learn to judge requests, assess new adventurers, and deal with edge cases. The usual officers will grumble. Let them."
Jinn gave a small nod.
Lavirra turned, heading back toward the building. "Clean up and go home early. I'll file the paperwork."
As she left, Jinn stood still, staring at the wooden blade.
> No fanfare. No applause. Just a shift. Quiet... but real.
She looked to the sky.
> Officer Jinnaviera.
It sounded strange in her head.
But not wrong.