The rain had passed.
Sunlight spilled through the tall windows of the guild hall, touching dust-specked air with a golden hue. It was morning—quiet, slow, peaceful. No urgent assignments. No shouting. Just the shuffle of boots and murmured chatter as adventurers lingered over their tasks.
A breeze slipped in through the slightly open panes, carrying the smell of damp wood and fresh bread from a nearby stall.
The storm had lifted, and with it, the tension.
---
Jinn sat at the front desk, stamping papers one by one. Her expression was its usual stillness, but there was no edge behind it today. She read. Marked. Approved. Quiet.
A group of rookies passed nearby, whispering.
"She gave me advice yesterday," one said.
"What kind?"
"She told me to fix my footing. That's it. But... nicely."
"...nicely?"
"Okay—not mean."
They both turned quickly when Jinn glanced up.
She didn't say anything. Just moved to the next scroll.
---
Behind her, Lavirra approached, arms crossed, eyeing the papers.
"You haven't disqualified anyone in an hour," she said dryly. "Should I be worried?"
Jinn didn't look up. "I'm warming up."
A few staff nearby chuckled.
Lavirra smirked, leaned in slightly. "Miracles happen."
Jinn handed her the next sheet. "Here. Go be useful."
"Oh, we're back to that, huh?" Lavirra walked off, humming.
The Guild Manager passed by a moment later, pausing mid-step. He eyed Jinn in silence, nodded faintly, and kept walking.
---
Later that day, a young courier tripped at the bottom of the stairs.
Papers flew.
One scroll soared into the air—before Jinn caught it neatly with one hand.
The recruit froze. "I—I'm sorry, ma'am, I—"
Jinn handed the scroll back without blinking. "Check your laces next time."
The boy blinked. Nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
He hurried off. Then peeked back once, confused.
Jinn was already back at work.
---
By evening, the halls quieted. Candles glowed along the walls. The warm hum of the guild faded into softer tones—laughter behind closed doors, chairs dragged gently, the clink of a mug being cleaned.
Jinn sat by the window upstairs. Outside, the clouds had cleared. The stars came through.
She rested her elbow on the sill. Closed her eyes.
> "Not every day needs a fight."
"Sometimes, standing still… is enough."
Jinn passes the guild kitchen area. Lavirra's sitting there sipping tea with another officer.
Lavirra raises her mug and says,
> "Hey, Iron Gate. Bet you can't tell what blend this is."
Jinn walks by, sniffs once, answers flatly:
> "Juniper bark. Half-steeped. You left it sitting too long."
Lavirra looks offended. "...Rude."
Other officer chuckles.
Jinn keeps walking. "Your cup's chipped."
Lavirra mutters under her breath:
> "She's not easing up. She's just attacking with facts now."
—
Jinn's home – later that evening
The door clicked shut behind her. She tossed her cloak aside, dropped her satchel near the wall, and stood still for a moment—back stiff, shoulders tight.
The day had been long. Not hard, just… full.
Jinn exhaled, rubbing her neck as she sat on the edge of her bed.
Her thoughts drifted—old tensions, recent memories, the heaviness she hadn't quite shaken. And then, a small memory floated back in:
> That one podcast.
Chakra meditation… calming energy... peace.
She gave a faint smile.
> "It's been a while. I wanna try it again."
Lying back, arms over her stomach, she closed her eyes. Slowly, she followed the steps she remembered: inhale, hold, exhale. Focus on the center. Let go of tension.
Then… it came.
A slow warmth spread from her chest. Steady. Gentle. Her breath deepened.
When she opened her eyes, the room hadn't changed—but she had.
Soft white-gold light shimmered over her skin, no longer flickering like before—stable, warm, calm. Threads of sparkle floated across her arms like strands of light in water.
She blinked. Watched in silence.
> "As expected from a fantasy world... but wow."
She smiled slightly, closed her eyes again, and let it flow.
The glow never faded.
She drifted into sleep.
---
Morning.
A rooster cried outside.
Jinn jolted upright, pillow skewed, hair wild.
She looked at her arms. No glow. Just skin.
And muttered:
> "…Wait. Was that a dream?"