Morning light cut through the clouds as Kaito made his way to the Hall of Essence — a domed building near the town's heart, marble spires etched with runes that shimmered faintly when touched by sunlight.
Inside, the air felt charged — like the seconds before a storm. Runes glowed on the floor, weaving intricate patterns in silver and blue. A robed attendant approached — tall, dark-eyed, voice smooth as riverstone.
"Testing, is it? Name?"
"Kaito Mercer," he said, handing over the parchment Lysette had given him.
The attendant led him to a circular chamber lined with mirrors. At the center stood a pedestal holding a crystal sphere, faint light swirling inside it.
"Place your hand here," the attendant instructed. "Focus inward. If you possess an affinity, the crystal will reveal it."
Kaito took a breath, then pressed his palm to the glass.
For a moment, nothing. Then — warmth. Pressure. The hum roared to life inside him, rising from a whisper to a thunderclap. Colors danced in the crystal: red, gold, and a faint trace of deep blue.
The attendant's eyes widened.
"By the Mother Flame… three affinities?"
The light flared, and Kaito yanked his hand back. His pulse hammered, sweat beading at his temple.
"You good, sir?" he asked, voice shaky. "That supposed to happen?"
"It's not unheard of," the man said, still staring at the orb. "But rare. Very rare. Fire, Light, and something… undefined. You may wish to seek guidance before you burn yourself apart."
"Well, that's comfortin'," Kaito muttered. "Can I, uh, get that in a pamphlet or somethin'?"
He left the Hall with his head buzzing, every nerve alive. The air itself felt different now — vibrant, breathing, full of weight. When he looked at the street lamps, he could see faint lines of energy dancing in the flame.
Lysette found him near the fountain.
"So? Did you learn anything useful?"
"Yeah," he said dryly. "Turns out I'm a human lightbulb with anger issues."
She laughed. "Then you'll need a teacher before that energy cooks you from the inside. Fortunately for you, I'm available — for a modest fee."
"Respect, ma'am," he drawled, "but I learn better by doin'. Ain't got time to stand in a circle and chant when somebody's tryin' to gut a caravan."
Lysette studied him, quiet for a heartbeat. The glow from the mana crystal behind her made her eyes catch gold around the edges — like sunlight behind leaves. Then, without a word, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small leather pouch, tied with a single white string.
She held it out to him. "Take this," she said.
Kaito frowned, taking the pouch. It had a surprising weight to it — enough to make the coins inside jingle faintly.
"What's this for?"
Lysette smiled in that unreadable way that made him think of chess players and prophets. "You'll know later today."
That was all she said.
He blinked, looked down at the pouch again, and then back up — but she was already returning to her notes, quill scratching, her posture saying the conversation was over.
"You're a strange woman, Lysette," he muttered under his breath as he turned to leave.
She didn't answer.
---
The streets outside the guild were a churn of sound and color — vendors shouting, carts creaking, sun baking the stone until it shimmered. Kaito took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair.
"Later today, huh?" he murmured. "Well, guess we'll see what kinda surprise you got in store, fortune-teller."
He was still smirking when he caught sight of the sign: PUBLIC AUCTION — HOUSEHOLD HELP & GENERAL LABOR.
At first, he thought nothing of it. Every world had its share of work-for-hire. But then he saw the platform — and the people standing on it. Not workers. Not volunteers. Slaves.
His jaw tightened.
He walked closer, boots heavy on the cobblestones, eyes narrowing as a greasy man with a too-wide grin shouted bids. "Strong backs! Obedient hands!"
And then Kaito saw her — a small elf girl, silver hair tangled into a braid, thin wrists trembling as she tried to stay still. Maybe twelve years old. Maybe younger. Eyes like a cornered deer's.
Something hot flared in his chest.
He stepped forward, voice cutting through the din. "You sellin' children now?"
The crowd turned. Some sneered. The trader's grin faltered, then returned, slick as oil.
"They're property, foreigner. Bound by debt or birth. You don't like it, don't look."
Kaito's voice dropped low, dangerous. "Law don't make right."
The trader's smirk stiffened. "You speak like a priest. This is business. Now unless you plan on buyin', step aside."
Kaito's fists flexed. Every instinct in his body told him to break the man's jaw and carry that girl right off the platform. He could see it already — a blur of motion, one hit, one scream — but then his soldier's mind clicked in. Cause chaos now, and the girl would pay the price later.
He took a slow breath. "How much for her?"
The trader blinked. Then he saw opportunity. "Ten gold."
Kaito almost laughed. "Ten gold? You're robbin' me blind."
"Ten gold," the trader repeated, smug. "Or step away."
Kaito's hand went to his belt pouch — he knew he didn't have enough. Maybe two copper left from the rat quest not even the right type of coin. His throat tightened, anger burning in his gut.
Then he remembered Lysette's strange gift.
He pulled the small pouch from his coat pocket, loosened the string, and blinked. Ten gold coins gleamed up at him — exact count, polished bright like they'd been minted this morning.
His chest went still.
"Well I'll be damned," he muttered. "Guess you really did know, didn't ya, ma'am."
He looked back at the trader, eyes hard. "You said ten, right?"
The trader nodded, surprised. Kaito dropped the gold into his hand, each coin clinking like thunder.
"There's your blood money. Now give me the contract and shut your damn mouth before I change mine."
The trader scowled but handed over the parchment. "Fool," he muttered.
Kaito tore the contract clean in two and let the pieces scatter in the dust. "Maybe," he said, "but I sleep better than you will."
He knelt down in front of the girl, his voice gentling. "You're free now, sweetheart."
Her lips trembled. "M-master?"
He gave a short laugh, rough around the edges. "Ain't no 'master' here. Name's Kaito. You remember that."
He unbuckled the iron collar from her neck, dropped it into the trader's box, and stood up. "C'mon. Let's get you outta here."
---
They walked through the back alleys, away from the noise, until the scent of bread and stew replaced sweat and dust. Kaito led her into a small tavern kitchen where the cook — a thick-armed woman with a kind face — didn't ask questions and gave the girl a bowl of soup.
Elenya, she'd said her name was.
He sat across from her while she ate, watching her take careful bites like she thought the food might vanish if she wasn't careful.
"You got anywhere to go?" he asked.
She shook her head, eyes big and scared.
"Then you stick with me, for now. I'll make sure you're fed, warm, and nobody lays a hand on you again. You got that?"
She hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, master—"
Kaito tapped her forehead lightly with a finger. "It's Kaito, girl. You call me 'master' again, I'm gonna make you run laps till sunrise."
Her mouth twitched — not quite a smile, but close.
"Kaito," she whispered.
"Better," he said, leaning back. "Now eat up. Tomorrow, we're findin' you some real clothes and maybe a bath that don't smell like old ale."
He watched her finish the stew, something tight in his chest easing for the first time in what felt like years. Maybe the goddess had her hand in this. Maybe that fancy mage woman knew exactly what she was doing.
"Guess that Lysette gal's got herself some kinda foresight," he murmured under his breath, smiling faintly. "Good thing, too."
He looked at Elenya again — small, shy, and already falling asleep in her chair.
"Reckon I just became somebody's dad," he muttered with a sigh, rubbing his neck. "Well, hell. Let's see if I can do better this time 'round."
He stood, gently lifted the girl into his arms, and carried her upstairs to the room he'd rented. Outside, the sun dipped low, painting the town gold. Somewhere, in her tower of books and spells, Lysette looked up from her notes and smiled faintly — as if hearing an echo of the choice she'd already seen.