[Name: Shira Hara]
[Age: ???]
[Race: ???]
[Location: Vivid Forest / Near Town]
[Before Confrontation]
The air was thick with the smell of moss and wet bark, an earthy fragrance that stuck to every breath. Shira walked down the twisting path, a huge sword carelessly slung over her shoulder, while carrying in the other hand, a crumpled list of quests she had taken on… and, not surprisingly, not finished.
She sighed a long, melodramatic one.
Shira (mentally): "Shit… what was the deadline on… let's see—"
Her gaze scanned the scribbled mess until one line made her gag.
Shira: "…Kill a golem. Kill a GOLEM!?"
The words echoed off the trees. She batted her forehead with the paper, leaving ink smudges on her skin.
Shira: "And tomorrow's the deadline?! Shit, shit, shit! I cannot possibly do it by myself — I need at least one mage to boost me for something like that! I should not have been so greedy really… but otherwise I won't be able to hold up my head in my own village. sigh"
She tramped down the road, moaning like a dramatic hero in an overwrought fantasy epic.
Shira (pensive): "But… when was the last time I even spoke to a mage? Hmmm…"
Her brow furrowed as if concentrating — then a flash of memory sparkled in her eyes.
Shira: "Ohhh right. The first time was the last time too. I beat the crap out of one for the first time. Not my fault! He was ripping off poor people with cheap-ass forgeries."
She scratched her head, still frowning.
Shira (thoughts): "…What was his name? Don't remember. Hmph. Well — if I run into him again, maybe I'll apologize. Sorta. Even though it wasn't my fault…"
Her voice faded away as she walked further into the forest, the playful tone gradually replaced with a more acute sense of awareness of where she was.
That's when she saw it.
A small creature crouched among the ferns. Not quite a cat — though at first glance it looked like one — except it had two tails and a glowing jewel set into its forehead.
Shira froze, jaw dropping. Her eyes sparkled like a child staring at candy.
Shira (whispering, gasping): "Ohhh my gods… that is the most beautiful, most precious, most cute thing I've ever seen!!"
She crept low, creeping forward with arms extended, like a child stalking a cookie jar.
Shira: "Come here, soft prize… don't hesitate…"
The creature swiveled its head, eyes meeting hers. For one instant, shining magic heartbeat, she pictured it bounding right into her arms.
Then it hurled itself — the length of the room straight into her face.
WHUMP!
Shira slammed to the ground, sword clanking at her side, as the small beast ricocheted off her forehead and shot off down the forest road towards the city.
Face in the mud, she groaned.
Shira: "…Yeah. I deserved that."
She forced herself up to a sitting position, shaking off leaves and clods of dirt from her clothes. The beast had hurt her pride, but hadn't hurt her resolve.
Shira: "Hmph. Playing hard to get, are we? Quite the difficult one, little angel…"
She puffed out her chest and raised her chin. ".But I enjoy challenges."
Her pace was hastened, in pursuit of the creature further into the trees. A faint line of shimmering magical dust was left in its wake — intentional, leading her to the road that led to the mage's guild.
Her smile disappeared as a chilling tingle travelled down her spine. Only high-grade beasts could emit that sort of magic… and only when they were in genuine danger.
Shira (thought): "That doesn't work… There can't be any high-grade beasts here. The king's barrier prevents them from entering. Unless…"
She tightened her hold on the sword.
Shira (thought): "…It's not a beast. It's a demon."
The beast ran through the quiet alley at the edge of the forest. Shira trailed behind, proceeding with stealth, her every step calculated and cautious.
The road led to a clearing where the mage and elf guild halls stood in the distance, their spires dark against the dying sun.
She lowered her gaze, focusing on the two-tailed beast as it stood back from the edge of the street.
Shira (thinking): "Is this thing leading me somewhere? And if it is… does it already know I'm here?"
Her steps now cautious, she minimized her mana flow, nearly blending into the shadows. She wasn't skilled in magic, but she had a few tricks that kept her dangerous.
As she crept closer to the guild, she noticed hooded figures near the entrance. One of them carried a small girl in his arms. Concern pricked her chest — her clumsiness had already made her lose sight of the creature, and the magical trail had vanished.
Shira (thinking): "Shit, shit, shit… you've done it again, barbaric Shira…"
She deliberated. Chase the beast and risk leaving the girl vulnerable? Or scout out the suspicious individuals first? Her survival instincts prevailed — she refused to leave the girl behind.
Stepping into a nearby thicket, she moved into position to look through a small opening. The guild gates were shut, but her vision was keen enough to monitor the hooded strangers.
Hours went by. Nothing. The only movement was the sprinkling of stardust and magical dust that created a thin magic circle on the ground.
Shira didn't budge. She couldn't risk making a mistake. Her patience was armor. She remained quiet, poised to act the instant the safety of the girl was in danger — or when the strangers dropped their guard.
More time went by. The sun lowered further, shadows that spread across the clearing. Practically nothing of interest occurred — the hooded figures stayed intent on their magic circle, the girl quiet and immobile, and the forest vibrated with an uncomfortable stillness.
Then — a blur of motion.
Something or someone hurtled toward them at a pace that sent leaves and dust scattering like a thunderclap crashing against the earth.
Shira's eyes opened wide.
Shira (thought): "No way… that speed! That can't be possi—"
It was the very same bogus potion "mage" she had roughed up the previous day. His robes billowed behind him as he slid to a stop beside the magic circle, gasping, his gaze flicking among the hooded figures and Shira's concealed position.
Shira (thought): "Ugh… him? Here? Now? Why—why does this always happen to me?!"
Against her will, a slight smirk creased her lips. She hunched down further, taking care not to alert him to her presence.
Shira (internal monologue): "Alright… strategy. Don't let him spot me yet. He's quick, but I can make that work for me. And… perhaps he could prove useful this time? Perhaps…"
Her sword lay lightly against her shoulder, fingers curled around the hilt. The con artist, oblivious to her presence, stooped over to examine the magic circle, swearing under his breath.
Shira craned her head, curiosity and frustration battling in her chest.
Shira (to herself): "Perhaps this is not some coincidence, perhaps. someone concocted this as a scheme of some kind.
Her gaze narrowed. Whatever happened next, she would have to proceed with caution. But one thing for sure — the time was finally going to become interesting.
Shira's keen eyes tracked the con man as he progressed with an unnatural elegance. He slunk low, setting out daggers along the wooden surfaces of the guild in a meticulously calculated circle.
Shira (thinking): "What is he doing now…?"
He had barely even registered to finish kicking before he had shattered the guild door with only one, energetic kick. The wood shattered and soared through the air, leaving her gasping in shock.
Seconds later, there was chaos. The daggers she had been observing turned into chains of some sort of mystical energy. The mage was able to bind a few, but one broke loose. Shira's gut dropped — this one was obviously the most powerful.
Without hesitation, it charged forward. Shira hardly had time to respond as it crashed into the wall, destroying it with rubble and dust in a vicious sneak assault.
The air hung heavy with tension as dust fell from the air. Their gazes met across the wreckage — hers keen, analytical; his wide with shock and frustration.
The mage: "W-why would you come?"
Shira: "Because I already knew that something fishy was going on."
She spoke in a calm, near-indifferent tone, but her eyes betrayed a moment's notice readiness to strike. She tightened the hold on her sword, and felt the familiar flush of a challenge run up the back of her neck.