The morning sun spilled across the cobblestone streets as Lyra made her way to the adventurer's guild, her silver coin carefully hidden in her bag. The day after her herbalist task, she felt a surge of purpose, clutching her reward as a reminder of what she was working toward. Emmy had been delighted to see the small treat Lyra had bought for her—a rare sweet bun that they shared. Her sister's laughter and smile from that simple gesture lingered with Lyra, fueling her resolve.
When she entered the guild hall, it was alive with activity. As usual, the guild was filled with adventurers of every rank—some clad in simple leather, others in heavy armor, gleaming with weapons that Lyra could only dream of wielding. But today felt different; the presence of some of the guild's most respected adventurers hung heavily in the air. A group of B-rankers gathered around one of the tables, their voices carrying a sense of authority and confidence. They were different—stronger, braver, each bearing the scars of countless battles.
One adventurer in particular stood out to her. She was a tall woman, with strong, lean muscles and armor that was not ornate but clearly well-made and effective. Her eyes were sharp, scanning the room like she was taking in every small detail. Lyra had seen her before from a distance. She was Alara, a B-rank adventurer who seemed to embody strength and skill. Lyra's heart skipped a beat. She had always admired Alara, though only from afar, and sometimes dreamed of becoming someone even remotely as powerful.
Keeping to herself, Lyra watched as Alara and her companions moved through the hall, discussing an upcoming mission. She picked up bits and pieces of their conversation, something about a recent surge of monsters in the nearby hills. It sounded like the kind of task Lyra could only dream of—one that involved real danger, real bravery.
Her admiration was interrupted as Alara turned her gaze in Lyra's direction, catching her staring. Lyra quickly looked down, her cheeks flushing as she fumbled with the edge of her bag. She hadn't meant to be so obvious, and yet, there she was, looking like a starstruck child.
To her surprise, Alara chuckled softly and gave her a slight nod before turning back to her group. That small acknowledgment made Lyra's chest swell with pride. It was a reminder that even someone like her—someone at the very bottom—could someday be noticed by the likes of Alara. The thought lingered as she stepped toward the job board, more determined than ever.
Scanning the board, she found a few small jobs posted, but nothing as substantial as the herbalist task. She sighed, half-wishing she had the skills to take on the higher-ranked tasks like the B-rankers. Lyra considered her options when a gruff voice broke her thoughts.
"Dreaming of power, huh?"
She looked up to find a tall, scruffy man—an older adventurer who looked like he had seen his share of hard days. He wore simple, battered armor, a large scar running across his brow. He had the air of someone who was more experienced than he cared to share.
"I… I just want to work hard," Lyra replied, keeping her voice steady. She was used to the occasional dismissive remark, but something about his question made her curious.
The man smirked. "Aye, workin' hard is one thing. But to get anywhere, you'll need more than that." He glanced at the board, then at Alara's group. "Them? They didn't get strong by chasin' after silver coins for gatherin' herbs."
Lyra frowned, a bit of defiance rising in her. "Well, I have to start somewhere. I want to make enough to not live on the streets." Her tone had a hint of frustration, but she kept her voice polite. "And I can't take on bigger jobs until I'm stronger."
He gave a low chuckle. "Fair enough, lass. Just don't be fooled by the glamour of it all. Power comes with its price." With that cryptic comment, he walked off, leaving her pondering his words.
Later that day, Lyra returned to the eastern outskirts of town to look for more herbs, her task from the day before replaying in her mind. She tried to imagine herself moving like Alara, fighting with skill and grace rather than simple luck. But her daydreams were quickly interrupted.
Just as she knelt by a small plant, she heard the distinct sounds of shouting and clanging metal from deeper in the woods. Her heart leaped. She could tell from the noise that it wasn't just a random commotion; it sounded like a real battle. Instinctively, she moved closer, hiding behind a tree to avoid drawing attention.
She squinted, catching sight of Alara and her team. They were battling two monsters—giant, scaled creatures with jagged fangs and gleaming eyes. The monsters lunged with terrifying speed, their claws tearing into the ground, but Alara and her group fought with practiced coordination. Alara moved swiftly, her sword slicing through the air with precise strikes, each motion filled with both strength and skill. Her companions flanked the creatures, using a combination of weapons and magic to keep them at bay.
Lyra watched, entranced. This was the power she wanted—the ability to face dangers head-on, to protect herself and her sister from any threat. She could see the strain in the B-rankers' movements, but also their confidence, the trust they had in each other. Each member of the team moved as though they knew exactly where the others would be, each relying on the others' strength as much as their own.
Just then, Alara shouted something Lyra couldn't hear, but her voice carried a tone of authority, and her companions obeyed immediately, falling back into formation. With a final, powerful swing, Alara plunged her sword into one of the creature's necks. The beast let out a final, guttural howl before collapsing to the ground.
The other monster turned to flee, wounded, but Alara's team quickly cornered it, bringing it down in a coordinated strike. Lyra felt a chill run down her spine. She knew she had witnessed something extraordinary. This was more than just power; it was mastery and discipline—the result of years of training and experience. Lyra's hands tightened into fists as she imagined herself standing there beside them, battling monsters with skill and confidence.
Her thoughts were interrupted as one of Alara's companions noticed her. He pointed in her direction, and Alara turned, her gaze sharp and assessing. Lyra's breath caught. She was about to step back, feeling embarrassed for having spied on them, when Alara raised a hand, signaling for her to wait.
With a slow, deliberate pace, Alara walked over to her, her expression unreadable. "You're the girl from the guild hall," she said, her voice calm but holding a faint edge. "What are you doing out here?"
Lyra hesitated, trying to keep her voice steady. "I… I was just gathering herbs for the apothecary."
Alara studied her for a long moment, then gave a nod. "The work of an apprentice adventurer, I suppose." She glanced at the bag hanging from Lyra's shoulder, her eyes softened just a little. "Be careful out here. Not all creatures are as forgiving as the plants you seek."
Lyra nodded, feeling both awed and slightly embarrassed. "I understand. Thank you." Her words came out softer than she intended, and she felt the heat rise to her cheeks.
Alara smiled faintly, a rare expression that made Lyra's heart flutter. "Keep working hard, but don't be reckless," she advised. "If you want to reach higher ranks someday, you'll need more than courage. Build your strength and learn how to read the world around you." She paused, her gaze intense. "Power isn't just about fighting. Remember that."
With that, Alara turned back to her team, leaving Lyra standing in the clearing, her heart pounding. She watched them go, their figures disappearing into the woods as they returned to the guild.
For a long moment, Lyra stood alone, Alara's words echoing in her mind. Build your strength, learn to read the world. Power isn't just about fighting.
As she resumed her work, her thoughts were filled with a new determination. She didn't just want strength to survive; she wanted strength to protect, to stand tall and unafraid. And for the first time, she realized it was going to take more than coins and the completion of a few odd jobs.
That evening, as Lyra returned home to Emmy, her resolve was stronger than ever. She shared their humble dinner in silence, listening to her sister's cheerful chatter about her day. Lyra's gaze fell on the necklace her mother had left her, and she held it tight in her hand. If she was going to make a future for herself and Emmy, she would need to earn it, just as Alara had.
And in the quiet of the night, a new sense of purpose took root in her heart.