The next day Ash pushed open the Guild door just after sunrise.
The hall was quieter than the day before. No crowd, just the smell of old firewood and ink. A new list of contracts had been nailed to the request board — uneven rows of paper fluttering gently with each draft from the cracked roof.
Marla looked up from her desk. Her hair was still damp, like she'd washed it with cold water and no patience.
"You're early," she said.
Ash shrugged.
Elira came in behind him, boots squeaking faintly. "We figured the rats might be more cooperative before breakfast."
Nilo popped up from behind a crate, holding a bundle of scrolls like they might bite. "Hey! You came back!"
Elira blinked. "Was that in question?"
He flushed. "I mean — no! Just—some people take one look and bolt. You didn't bolt. That's good."
Ash stepped to the board. He scanned the postings without a word.
POST 11C – Root Cellar Disturbance
"Farmer's storage tunnel collapsed. Something's nesting inside. Scratches on the stone. No contact since. Low priority. Investigate and report."
Reward: 6 silver / proof of threat removed.
Marked safe for Unranked.
He pulled the pin.
Marla stood and walked over, glancing at the posting in his hand. "You sure?"
"Simple perimeter job," Ash said.
"Unless it's not."
He met her eyes. "Then we improvise."
She grunted. "Don't improvise too hard. The last team that said that set a barn on fire."
"That won't happen," Elira said brightly. "I am not allowed to play with fire anymore."
Marla raised an eyebrow. "Good."
Nilo shuffled forward. "I can log you for Contract 11C. It's just east of town — past the orchard line, near that old collapsed chapel. Locals say the root cellar predates the town. Probably Veyruhn era. So, uh… watch for weirdness."
Ash said nothing.
Elira straightened a little. "Did you say Veyruhn?"
Nilo nodded. "Yeah. Dominion relic site, supposedly. That age left weird stuff buried all over Veldenreach. Most of the old Sigil Mirrors come from them, actually. We can't make new ones — just fix the scraps that still hum."
Something in Elira's face shifted. Just slightly.
Ash caught it.
"Relics that old tend to act… funny," Nilo added, scratching the back of his neck. "Glow when they shouldn't. Mirror too long, you get a nosebleed. That kind of funny stuff."
Elira smiled — thin, polite. "Sounds delightful."
Nilo tried to recover. "I can lend you a flare charm if you want? Won't do much, but if you throw it, it pops bright. Scares off bats."
Elira leaned in. "Do we look like bat people?"
Nilo hesitated. "I mean, no, but—"
Ash took the charm. "We'll use it if needed."
Nilo perked up. "You're welcome!"
Marla, still at the desk, gave Ash a long look. "You're not like most who come through here."
"Because I dont flinch?"
"No. Because you listen."
He didn't answer.
Elira gave a theatrical bow. "Well, we'll go explore the totally-not-cursed Veyruhn ruin and make it back before dusk. Probably."
Marla sighed. "Try not to step on anything that glows."
They left Hearthmere by the eastern gate.
No guards. Just a crooked plank nailed above the arch that read "Safe Travels" in faded charcoal. Ash didn't bother to read it. He was already mapping the terrain.
The orchard line came into view within ten minutes — gnarled trees half-choked with moss, most bearing nothing but shriveled barkfruit and bird nests. A muddy path wound between them, wide enough for a cart but clearly used more by animals than traders.
Ash kept ahead, quiet. Boots soundless on the damp trail.
Elira lagged half a step behind.
"So," she said lightly, "Veyruhn ruins. Charming. Probably full of rats the size of donkeys and cursed mirrors."
"Mirrors don't curse," Ash said.
"Says the man who made one glitch."
They passed a leaning shrine post near a split in the path — just a carved stone wheel on a stick, worn down until it was more suggestion than symbol. Elira glanced at it and frowned.
"That the chapel?"
Ash didn't stop.
"No. That's a farmer's prayer marker. The chapel's further out."
The path curved toward an overgrown rise. Trees thinned. The wind picked up.
At the top of the hill, the woods broke open into a small clearing. Sunlight filtered in flat and grey. In the middle of it all, buried beneath weeds and moss, sat a low mound of stone and earth.
The cellar.
Just as Nilo said: east of town, past the orchard line, near the ruins of a chapel long since swallowed by time.
Ash knelt beside the claw marks. Elira scanned the treeline.
The cellar didn't look like much.
Just a moss-covered slope, barely a hill, with old stones half-swallowed by dirt. Whatever door had once sealed it had rotted off the hinges. A few rusted frame pieces clung to the sides. Something had clawed into the soil around it — long gouges, uneven depth, like it couldn't decide if it wanted to dig or break.
Ash crouched near the entrance. One hand in the dirt, checking the soil compression. The claw marks were old. But the prints? Fresh.
"Elira," he said without turning, "you see anything?"
She stood just above the slope, squinting at the treeline. Her fingers danced in the air like she was tuning an invisible harp.
"I'm trying to trace the flow," she muttered. "There's something here… but it's faint. Like the threads are buried."
"Anything active?"
She shook her head. "No divine imprint. Nothing structured. Maybe a leech flow? Leftover from a relic?"
Ash stood and stepped carefully around the entrance. "Doesn't matter. If it moves, we deal with it."
He slipped inside.
The root cellar sloped down into a short tunnel — damp, narrow, stone-lined. The air was musty. Not rot — just the heavy, cold smell of old stone and deeper earth. It bent slightly left, then opened into a chamber about ten feet wide.
Something had nested here.
Shredded sacks, fur, broken bones. Not human. Probably rodent. Bigger than average, but not monstrous.
Elira stepped in behind him, cloak brushing the wall. "It's gross in here Ash."
Ash held up a hand. She stopped moving.
He pointed.
One sack near the far wall twitched.
Then exploded.
A blur of grey fur and gnashing teeth lunged — not at him, but at the wall behind him, trying to escape.
Ash moved sideways, fast. The creature — longer than a wolf, shaped like a skeletal badger with weeping sores — hit the wall shoulder-first. Then turned.
Elira made a noise.
Ash didn't.
He was already moving.
[Combat Reflex] kicked in again. Quietly. No flash. No fanfare.
His stance shifted without thought. The space between the creature's footfalls stretched. Time thinned. His hands found leverage on instinct — shoulder forward, weight low.
The beast lunged again.
Ash dodged left, drew his improvised spike, and drove it straight through the rib seam.
One strike.
The creature gasped — an awful, wet sound — then dropped.
Still twitching.
Ash stepped back, breathing even.
Elira stood frozen by the tunnel mouth. "…That was fast."
He crouched by the corpse. "Not strong. Just scared."
"Still. That reaction time…" She trailed off.
Ash cut a thin line down the creature's side — checked for mutated growths, sigil cysts, anything harvestable. Nothing unusual. He stood, wiped his blade clean, and turned toward the exit.
Only then did he notice her expression.
Quiet. Eyes unfocused. Hands still.
"Elira."
She blinked. "Hm?"
"You alright?"
She nodded too quickly. "Fine. Just—didn't expect it to lunge like that."
"You said no divine imprint."
"There wasn't."
A pause.
She looked away. "You handled it better than I would've anyway."
Ash didn't answer.
She laughed once. Light, but not real. "I guess I'm more baggage than backup right now, huh?"
He said nothing.
She smiled again. "Kidding. Sort of."
The sky had started to grey by the time they reached the edge of town again.
Ash walked slightly ahead, his steps even, eyes always scanning — rooftops, treelines, the dip of the road. There was no threat. But his body didn't seem to care.
Elira trailed behind, quieter than usual. Her cloak dragged slightly. The wind tugged at her hair, but she didn't fix it.
They passed the old chapel ruins on the way back — the same crumbled structure Nilo had mentioned. Half the roof was gone, the stone walls blackened from something long past. Vines choked what was left of the altar. No offerings. No prayers.
Elira slowed, just a step. Looked at it.
Then kept walking.
Ash didn't look back. But he noticed.
The Guild wasn't busy when they returned. Marla glanced up from her desk, expression unreadable.
"Report?" she asked.
Ash tossed the clawed tooth he'd taken from the beast onto the counter. "Root cellar's clear. One twisted rodent. Big teeth. Fast."
Marla picked up the fang, turned it once between her fingers, then dropped it into a tin tray. "Reward's six silver. Go see Nilo."
Ash nodded once and walked to the side desk.
Elira lingered.
Marla eyed her. "You look like you lost a bet."
"I'm fine."
"Good," Marla said. "Because if he keeps moving like that, he'll draw attention. And you're the one who looks like you know what that means."
Elira's smile didn't reach her eyes. "You always this charming?"
Marla raised an eyebrow. "Only when I like someone."
That got a faint laugh. Elira followed Ash to the side counter.
Outside, dusk had started to fall.
They found a new place to sleep — an empty shack near the grain store, musty but quiet. Ash started mapping the exits again. Elira sat down on the floorboards and didn't say anything for a long time.
Then finally:
"You're adapting fast."
Ash looked up.
She didn't wait for him to respond. "I mean it. You're barely here a week, and you've already got a kill record, a belief skill, and the guild is starting to trust you."
He said nothing.
"I haven't helped you once."
"You're here."
"That's not the same Ash and you know it."
He checked his pouch. "I don't need help."
She flinched.
He didn't notice.
Later, she lay curled in the corner, eyes half-open, watching shadows dance across the ceiling.
Ash sat at the door again. Silent. Awake.
She watched him a while longer. Then whispered, barely audible:
"…You don't need me. But I think i need you."
He didn't respond.
She didn't expect him to.