The return to the Mercenary Guild building was quiet at first. The morning air had begun to warm, the scent of baked bread still lingering faintly in the streets.
A few townsfolk waved as they passed, offering nods and greetings toward Damien, who returned them all with subtle gestures—too absorbed in thought to fully engage.
Arielle walked beside him, her pace fluid but a little faster than usual. She had something on her mind.
"I won't be staying long," she said suddenly. "There's someone I need to find. I'll meet you both later."
Damien slowed slightly. "You sure you don't need help?"
She shook her head. "No. It's not a long search. I just need to set some things straight before we leave."
Lyone tilted his head. "What sort of things?"
Arielle smiled. "Responsibilities, kid. I was managing the guild, remember? Can't just vanish without leaving someone to hold the reins."
Damien's brow rose slightly. "You've got someone in mind already?"
