We finally reached a large building at the end of a narrow street. The sign above the door was simple, a crossed sword and shield. A few rough-looking individuals stood near the entrance, some talking in low voices, others sizing up those who passed. It was bustling with an energy that felt different from the rest of the city, grittier, more alive in its own way.
"This is it," Ronan said, dismounting. "You'll see what I mean."
As we approached the door, a burly man with a scar over his left eye stepped forward, glancing at us briefly before turning his gaze to the street behind us. He didn't bother with a greeting, just a grunt as he motioned for us to enter.
Inside, the atmosphere was a sharp contrast to the colorful streets of Solereth. The walls were lined with tables, each one crowded with people, mercenaries, explorers, and those who had the look of seasoned adventurers. Some were arguing, others negotiating contracts or discussing their latest quests.
There were no grand introductions, no special treatment. Just a room full of people eager to prove their worth. At the far side of the room, a large board was mounted on the wall, covered in various notices. Some offered coin for simple tasks, deliver a package, find a lost item. Others were far more dangerous, asking for help with monsters, rogue magic users, or ancient ruins.
I could already sense the raw energy of it, the possibility that awaited if I was willing to step forward and take it.
"This is where you start," Ronan said, his voice low as he placed a hand on my shoulder. "You don't need to be anyone special. You just need to be able to do the job."
I nodded, my mind already racing with possibilities. This was what I had been waiting for, an opportunity to prove myself. It didn't matter who I was or where I came from. What mattered was what I could do.
That evening, as Ronan made arrangements for our stay, I sat in the small room provided to us at an inn. The city was alive outside, the distant hum of voices and the occasional cheer from the tavern below filtering in through the wooden shutters.
In front of me was a blank piece of parchment. I stared at it for a while, the weight of what I was about to do settling in.
It wasn't an easy decision. My parents had given me everything, a home, love, and safety. But the fire inside me, the desire to prove myself and forge my own path, was too strong to ignore.
With a steady hand, I dipped the quill into the inkpot and began to write:
Dear Mother and Father,
I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirits. I write this with a heavy heart, knowing that my decision may bring you worry, but also with a determination that I hope you can understand.
For years, I've felt a pull to explore the world beyond our home, to discover who I am and what I'm capable of. I've always wanted to make you proud, and I believe the best way to do that is to carve my own path.
By the time you read this, I will have left Solereth. My journey will not be easy, but I promise to return stronger, wiser, and ready to take on the challenges that await me at the academy when I turn 15. Until then, I will make a name for myself, one that you can be proud of.
Please don't worry for me. I've learned much from you both and from Ronan. I carry your love and teachings with me, and they will guide me through whatever lies ahead.
I love you both more than words can express. Trust that I will return when the time is right.
Yours always,
Lucian
I set the quill down, reading over the letter one last time. It felt final, like the closing of one chapter and the beginning of another.
I reached into my bag and pulled out the mask I'd found earlier that day in a shop near the guild. It was simple but striking, a smooth black surface with intricate silver lines tracing across it like veins of light. It would hide my face well, adding an air of mystery to my presence.
The mask would become my new identity, a shield against the world's judgment and curiosity. I needed a name to go with it, something that would strike fear in my enemies and respect among my peers.
I decided on "Raven." The name felt right, dark, elusive, and free. Like the bird, I would soar above the world, untethered and unseen, until the time came to reveal who I truly was.
As dawn approached, I slipped the letter under Ronan's door. He'd understand what I was doing, even if he didn't entirely agree. Then, with the mask tucked under my arm, I stepped out into the cool morning air.
The city was quiet now, the streets almost empty. I pulled the mask over my face, feeling the cool material press against my skin. This was it, the beginning of my journey as Raven.
The Adventurer's Guild was quieter in the early morning, but it hadn't lost its edge. The smell of old wood and faintly spilled ale lingered in the air, mingling with the low hum of murmured conversations.
I stepped inside, my mask securely in place. Every movement felt deliberate, as though the simple act of entering this place marked a transformation. Around me, a handful of adventurers lounged at tables or studied the mission board. Their gazes flickered toward me briefly before returning to their business. The mask worked as intended, it drew no unnecessary questions, just mild curiosity.
At the counter stood a gruff-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair and a no-nonsense expression. He wore a leather vest, and a broad scar ran diagonally across his chin. His sharp eyes tracked my approach.
"You here to sign up?" he asked, his voice gravelly but firm.
I nodded. "Yes. Name's Raven."
He raised an eyebrow at the mask but didn't comment. Instead, he reached under the counter and retrieved a thick ledger.
"Raven, huh? Alright, Raven. We don't care who you are, where you're from, or why you're here. The only thing that matters is if you can handle the work. Prove yourself, and you'll find plenty of opportunities. Fail, and, well..." He let the sentence hang ominously.
I kept my tone steady. "Understood."
He slid the ledger toward me and handed me a quill. "Sign here. After that, pick your first mission. Don't bite off more than you can chew. You won't make a name for yourself if you're dead."
I signed "Raven" in bold strokes and pushed the book back to him. He scanned it, nodded, then gestured toward the mission board.
The board was crowded with notices, each one pinned haphazardly over the other. They ranged from mundane tasks, finding lost items, escorting merchants, to more dangerous ventures like slaying beasts or investigating ruins.
I scanned the board carefully, wanting something that would test me but wouldn't be outright suicidal. One notice caught my eye:
Mission: Eliminate the Shadowfang Wolves
Location: Eastwood Forest, outskirts of Solereth
Reward: 15 silver coins
Description: A pack of Shadowfang Wolves has been terrorizing travelers on the Eastwood trails. Their numbers are unknown, but reports suggest a greater wolf leading the pack. Eliminate the threat.
It seemed perfect. Dangerous enough to prove my capabilities, but manageable with careful strategy.
I plucked the notice from the board and returned to the counter. The man glanced at it and gave a short nod.
"Shadowfang Wolves, huh? Decent pick for a beginner. Be careful with the greater wolf, they're smart and strong. If you survive, bring proof of the kill, and you'll get your reward."
I thanked him and left the guild, the notice tucked securely in my belt.
Ronan was waiting for me outside. His arms were crossed, and his expression was a mix of curiosity and caution. "You're serious about this, aren't you?"
I nodded. "I need to do this, Ronan. To prove to myself that I can."
He sighed but didn't argue. Instead, he handed me a small pouch. "Some supplies, healing salves, rations, and a few tools. Just don't get yourself killed. And remember, Arcanum is your greatest asset. Use it wisely."
"Thank you," I said, genuinely grateful.
With that, I set out toward the Eastwood Forest, my first mission as Raven awaiting me.
The morning light filtered through the kitchen window as Lucian's parents, Lila and Alaric, sat at the table. The parchment lay between them, its words etched into their minds. Lila's fingers trembled as she traced the edges of the letter, her usually calm demeanor shaken.
"He's gone," she whispered, her voice catching. "He's out there on his own."
Alaric, who rarely showed emotion, sighed deeply and rubbed his temple. "He's grown, Lila. We knew this day would come. He's not the same boy we raised in the forest. He's... "
"A young man with dreams," she interrupted, her voice soft but firm. "I know. But it doesn't make it easier."
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the letter pressing on them. Finally, Alaric spoke, his tone more resolute. "He's strong. Stronger than we ever imagined. And he's smart. If anyone can carve their way in this world, it's our son."
Lila nodded, though tears welled in her eyes. "I just hope he knows how much we love him."
Lucian's boots crunched against the dirt path as he made his way toward the Eastwood Forest. The air was cool and crisp, the sun casting dappled light through the trees. Though he wore the mask, it didn't feel unnatural, it was as much a part of his new identity as the name Raven.
Ronan walked beside him, the veteran swordsman maintaining a steady pace. They spoke little, though Lucian appreciated his mentor's quiet presence. The forest ahead loomed larger with each step, its shadows stretching out like welcoming arms.
"First mission," Ronan said after a while, breaking the silence. "It's an important moment for any adventurer. You sure you're ready?"
Lucian nodded. "I've trained for this. I'll be fine."
Ronan smirked. "Confidence is good. Just don't let it turn into arrogance. The forest doesn't care how prepared you think you are."
Lucian gave a faint chuckle but kept his focus ahead. His heart raced with anticipation. Somewhere within those woods lay his first true challenge, the Shadowfang Wolves, and he intended to rise to meet it.
The dirt path wound deeper into the Eastwood Forest, where sunlight filtered through the dense canopy in fragmented patterns. The air here was different, still and heavy, as though the forest was holding its breath. Lucian adjusted his mask, the cool leather pressing against his skin, and kept his senses sharp.
Beside him, Ronan's presence was a constant reassurance. Though they hadn't spoken much during the walk, his mentor's calm demeanor said more than words. Ronan moved like a predator, each step deliberate, his eyes scanning the surroundings with the practiced ease of a seasoned warrior.
"Eastwood's been quiet for years," Ronan said suddenly, his voice low. "The Shadowfang Wolves are a sign something's wrong. Wild creatures don't usually stray near human roads unless they're desperate, or provoked."
Lucian frowned. "Provoked by what?"
"That's the question, isn't it?" Ronan replied, his gaze flickering toward a rustle in the underbrush before continuing forward. "You'll see soon enough. For now, focus. The forest tests all who enter it."