Adventurer's Hall (1)

"That will be two hundred and thirty-four gold pieces and one thousand silver coins," Said the smiling elven receptionist as the bags landed on the counter with a thump, "Goblin hives are no joke, but exterminating an entire infestation?" The elf smiled. "You all did good."

The looks on the adventurers' faces as they beheld the reward for their quest amused me. Judging by their wide eyes and open mouths as they stared greedily at the gold, they were only ever expecting the silver coins.

Zeal and I watched from the comfort of our table not too far away from the reception desk. We were served some tea and cut bread as we waited for the adventurers to handle their business. The guild hall was a loud and busy place, as expected. 

What wasn't expected was how cool the temperature inside was. I sensed no cooling wards of any kind nor magic tuned to temperature control. However, there was an odd abundance of magical energy at certain points. Maybe they had alternatives for wards? It wasn't far-fetched to think magic had been innovated upon after so many years.

Which meant that there was magic I was completely unaware of. A dangerous vulnerability that I needed to address.

Zeal munched on some of the cut bread as she nestled against my arms. The little beastkin was warming up to me. Her eyes no longer averted themselves from my presence. I smiled slightly. There was something warm about a child slowly trusting you. The innocence of their existence was a treasure to be preserved until they could be guided to grow further, to blossom like a rose in an endless sea of flowers.

I now found myself walking by the edge of that field of flowers. In my hands were two fates that would determine the course of the world. On one hand was a sapling, fragile and new. On the other, a ball of flame, boiling and hungry. Each with a purpose, but both cannot coexist. Eventually, when the time arrives and the choices are forced upon me, I must choose.

And I must choose wisely.

I looked around and watched as adventurer parties filled the hall and made themselves at home. There were many magic users among them, most of which exuded magical energy potent enough to be able to summon at least tier 5 magic. 

Masking my magic as soon we drew near the city was the correct decision. If I had delayed for even just a few minutes, then my presence would have been known. And things would have been harder for those around me.

It was a simple yet effective masking spell, one I was able to design as we journeyed through the forest. Usually a normal masking spell would have been enough, but the beastkin village chief showed me that there were other abilities in this world that did not use magic. Abilities that were invisible to the magical senses yet able to perceive the magical. I would have been a fool to ignore the danger.

Designing spells often took time and rigorous testing, but I was already far beyond the limitations of the usual, elevated mage. I was at the peak of magical ability. Manipulating the magic of the world was as easy as molding clay. 

However, that didn't mean what I made was perfect. The new spell I designed worked as intended, masking my magic from other mages and completely hiding any external aura it would otherwise exude under normal circumstances.

However, the spell limited how much of my magic I could use for as long as it was maintained. If I ever so happen to get myself into a fight, which I feared would become more often, then I wouldn't be able to cast as effectively. Not unless I break the spell and unleash my full power, revealing my true power to any nearby mages. 

That didn't matter as long as I stayed and lived at the edge of the world. But I was no longer at the edge, nor was I at the outskirts. I was now at the periphery of civilization. Civilization I knew nothing about. There was no in-between. It was either I hid my power until the time was right, or I unveil myself and risk it all.

Too much was at stake for such a gamble. But life was full of risks, I knew that well.

While a few of the adventurers surrounded the quest boards looking for new quests and jobs, many helped themselves to the amenities the guild provided. They ate. They sang. They laughed. There were cheers. There were boasts. And all of them, in some way or another, were different.

There were Elves, Dwarves, Haflings, Lizardkin, and even a few odd looking Beastkin. It seemed like the guild welcomed every race into its ranks as long as they were capable. Their presence in this specific guild hall, however, was odd. The town outside barely had any other race walking its streets. And it looked like halflings didn't take well to outsiders.

Given the brief history I was told, it was well understood why. There was, however, tension. An air of disgust and prejudice. Such were the gazes against Zeal as others took note of her presence. She was neither dirty nor unsightly, and yet they glared at her as if she were an unwelcome vagabond. Was it her ragged clothes? Her fangs? Her hairy appearance? I glared, my eyes shimmering cold as I stared back at these creatures of lesser character, looking into their eyes until they either turned away or feigned ignorance.

Though I was also a subject of their mockery, I did not care. I looked out of place, that was understandable. Whatever whispers they hissed against me mattered little. But Zeal was but a child in an unfamiliar place, did her plight not attract pity? Or at least compassion from these creatures? Most insulting of all, they didn't look at any of the older, rougher looking beastkin the same way.

Or was it, perhaps, the fact that they had less fur and looked more like the races around them? Beastkin were unique, after all. Zeal's home hosted beastkin with the most wild features, with fur that covered their entire body, with fangs and claws as their teeth and nails. 

I had to admit, these rougher looking beastkin were more pleasant to my human eyes. They had less fur, less fangs, and shorter claws. They looked and talked as if they were merely an offshoot of the other races around them. Yet they still possessed the instincts of beasts, I could feel it.

My glares eventually silenced all untoward attention. Zeal remained comfortable by my side, blissfully ignorant of the prejudice that had just transpired in the background. At that moment of respite, I wished to hear her voice. 

It was an odd wish, but it would have assured me further that she was alright. The stress of losing your loved ones, especially your parents, would crush any child. But she was coping, or so I hoped.