### Chapter 24: The Blade Breakers Guild
The merchant stood stiffly in the bustling square, his arms crossed, his usual arrogance dimmed after the events of the past few days. Trill leaned casually against the side of the merchant's wagon, his calm demeanor masking his sharp focus as the man counted out their payment. Bren stood nearby, her eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of trouble. She had insisted on being paid in full before they parted ways, and the merchant, cowed by their efficiency and presence, was in no position to argue.
"I trust this settles our agreement," the merchant said, extending two hefty purses of coins, his tone laced with feigned politeness.
Trill took the purses and weighed them in his hands. Without a word, he handed one to Bren. "Pleasure doing business," he said, his voice devoid of warmth.
The merchant grumbled something under his breath, climbed onto his wagon, and snapped the reins. As his entourage rumbled away, Trill and Bren exchanged a brief glance.
"Finally," Bren muttered, tucking her coin purse into her pack.
With the contract settled, they turned their attention to the bandits they had apprehended. The local magistrate's office was a short walk away, and the line of guards standing at attention outside made it easy to find.
Inside, the air was cool and heavy with the scent of ink and parchment. A clerk behind a tall desk inspected the bounty warrants and confirmed their authenticity. The reward wasn't as hefty as the merchant's payment, but it was a satisfying bonus. Trill pocketed the coin without ceremony.
"You're not bad at this mercenary thing," Bren remarked as they left the magistrate's office.
Trill smirked. "Years of practice."
They made their way to an inn, a modest but clean establishment called **The Silver Stag**, where they rented a room for the night. After securing their belongings, they headed out into the town, Bren's curiosity and Trill's purpose driving them toward the district known as **Guild Way**.
---
Guild Way was a lively network of streets and plazas, each lined with buildings bearing the sigils and banners of registered guilds. The district pulsed with energy: blacksmiths hammering out swords, tinkerers displaying intricate contraptions, alchemists hawking potions, and mages demonstrating spells to prospective apprentices.
Bren's eyes widened as they passed a scribe's stall where a quill wrote flawlessly on its own. Across the street, a hunter showcased a massive wyvern head mounted on a wagon. The air was thick with the mingling scents of burning metal, exotic spices, and parchment.
"This place is insane," Bren said, her voice tinged with awe.
"It's a hub of power and profit," Trill replied. "But not without its dangers. Rogue guilds have no place here, and the penalties for unregistered work are harsh."
As they walked, they passed banners for guilds ranging from the practical—Herbalists and Bards—to the infamous, like the Assassins' Guild, whose entrance was marked only by a discreet dagger emblem.
Their destination was a towering structure near the heart of Guild Way. The sign above the entrance read:
**The Blade Breakers Guild**
The building was imposing, with dark stone walls and a pair of massive swords crossed above its double doors. The symbol of the Blade Breakers was carved into the doors—a shattered blade surrounded by a laurel wreath.
Trill pushed open the heavy door, and they stepped into a cavernous hall bustling with activity. Mercenaries of all types filled the room, some examining contracts pinned to a large board, others laughing over mugs of ale at long tables. The walls were lined with trophies: monster heads, broken weapons, and banners from past campaigns.
A reception desk stood at the far end of the hall, manned—or rather, foxed—by a striking woman with sleek orange fur, sharp amber eyes, and a tail that flicked lazily as she worked. She wore a fitted uniform, its cut both professional and alluring.
As Trill and Bren approached, the fox woman looked up, her eyes quickly assessing them. A sly smile curved her lips.
"New recruits?" she asked, her voice smooth and warm.
"Something like that," Trill replied.
The fox woman's gaze lingered on him for a moment before she reached for a ledger. "Name?"
"Trill," he said.
"Just Trill?"
"For now."
Her smile widened. "Mysterious. I like it." She wrote his name down with a flourish. "And you?" She turned to Bren.
"Not joining," Bren said curtly. "I'm just here to watch."
The fox woman's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Suit yourself." She slid a parchment across the desk toward Trill. "Standard registration form. Fill it out, and we'll need a demonstration of your abilities. Can't have anyone joining the Blade Breakers without proving their worth."
Trill glanced at the form, then back at her. "What kind of demonstration?"
The fox woman leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping just enough to feel conspiratorial. "Something that shows you're not all talk. A sparring match, a skill display—whatever you're best at."
Trill nodded. "Fine."
---
A short while later, Trill stood in the guild's training arena, a circular pit lined with sand and enclosed by high stone walls. A crowd of guild members had gathered to watch, murmuring with curiosity.
Trill's opponent was a hulking mercenary wielding a massive hammer. The man cracked his knuckles and grinned down at Trill. "You sure you're in the right place, little guy?"
Trill said nothing, his expression calm. He unsheathed his sword, the blade catching the light as he stepped into position.
The match began with the hammer-wielding mercenary charging forward, his weapon swinging in a wide arc. Trill moved with practiced precision, sidestepping the strike and countering with a quick slash that nicked the man's armor.
The crowd roared with approval.
The mercenary growled, attacking again with more ferocity. Trill danced around him, his movements fluid and controlled. He struck only when openings presented themselves, each blow calculated to weaken his opponent without wasting energy.
The fight ended when Trill disarmed the mercenary with a deft maneuver, his sword pointed at the man's chest. The crowd erupted into cheers, and even the defeated mercenary gave a grudging nod of respect.
Back at the reception desk, the fox woman greeted Trill with a slow clap. "Impressive," she said, handing him a guild badge. "Welcome to the Blade Breakers."
---
As they left the guild, Bren broke the silence. "You're really something in a fight, you know that?"
Trill smirked. "Noticed that, did you?"
Bren rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a grin. "Still, this place... it's dangerous. These guilds play by their own rules."
"I can handle it," Trill said.
Bren sighed. "I know you can. That's what worries me."
They walked back toward the inn, the streets now lit by the warm glow of lanterns. Guild Way hummed with life even as the evening settled in. For now, they had a place in this world. But both of them knew it wouldn't last forever.