New Job

Ezra walked back into the base, drenched in sweat but feeling accomplished. The intense training had pushed him closer to understanding the strange power he wielded. Yet, a nagging thought lingered—he needed guidance. If only there was another Elthar to consult. The connection between his lineage and this newfound ability was clear, but the specifics eluded him. His mind drifted to the old woman If she hadn't vanished so quickly, maybe she could've shed some light on his questions.

As he neared the bathing area to wash up, Korr rounded the corner and stopped in his tracks.

"Hey, Boss," Korr called out, giving Ezra a once-over. "Saw you walk in—where's your sword? Don't tell me you broke it. Thornmere's not exactly handing out replacements."

Ezra turned, a grin spreading across his face. "Nah, didn't break it." He held out his hand, and in a flash, his eyes glowed faintly, the pupils shifting into four-pointed stars. The sword materialized in his grasp as if summoned from another plane.

Korr's jaw dropped, his expression a mix of shock and excitement. "Holy—! That's cool as hell. How'd you do that?"

Ezra chuckled, letting the blade vanish once more. His eyes flickered back to normal as he shrugged. "Not entirely sure. I was training, and when I went to put it away... it just happened. Feels useful, though."

"Useful?" Korr repeated, still staring at where the sword had been. "That's a damn understatement! But what's with your eyes? They... changed. Glowed a little and turned into stars or something."

Ezra frowned slightly, his mind racing. "I don't know," he admitted. "I think it might have something to do with my clan, but I'm not certain. Elthars don't exactly leave a lot of written history lying around."

Korr scratched his head. "You thinking of finding an elf historian or something?"

"Yeah," Ezra replied, his tone thoughtful. "Someone out there has to know what this means. If it's tied to my clan, it might explain more than just the sword. I'll figure it out."

Ezra stepped into the bathing area, the warm water washing away the grime and exhaustion of the day. He scrubbed diligently, the rhythmic motion grounding him after the intense training session. His muscles ached, a reminder of his relentless pursuit of strength, but it was a satisfying pain—proof of progress.

After rinsing off, Ezra dried himself, dressed in loose, comfortable clothes, and collapsed onto his bed. His body sank into the mattress, and sleep claimed him almost instantly, his mind already anticipating the challenges of the next day.

The night passed without disturbance until a sharp clanging noise pierced the early morning quiet. Ezra stirred, groaning softly as the sound grew persistent. Recognizing it as the bell at the front desk, he rolled out of bed, his instincts kicking in. Still half-asleep, he quickly dressed and made his way downstairs.

At the counter stood a wiry man with a slightly weathered appearance. He was mid-ring when Ezra entered the room, the man's eyes widening in surprise.

"Wow," the stranger said, lowering the bell. "You heard that all the way from upstairs? Seems that guild girl wasn't just spouting nonsense about your kind."

Ezra offered a polite smile, the kind he reserved for business interactions. "Yeah, Aether users have heightened senses. Though honestly, I'm more surprised I didn't hear you come in."

The man chuckled nervously, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Guess I was quieter than I thought. Sorry to wake you so early, but I've got an urgent job. One that might be right up your alley."

Ezra raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Urgent, huh? Let's hear it."

The man nodded, launching into a detailed explanation of the situation. "Well, you see, the Wanderers have started showing up on the surface more frequently. Unfortunately, their presence has stirred up cultists working with the demons from the Abyss. These cultists have been setting up bases near major trade routes, ambushing caravans, and stealing everything in sight. Normally, I'd report this to the city guard, but they've refused to act. Word is, they're already stretched thin preparing for... something big."

He paused, glancing nervously at Ezra before continuing. "I heard your group specializes in high-risk jobs. These cultists are no joke—they've been spotted using magic, some as strong as fourth-rune spellcasters. It's dangerous, but the reward is generous: one hundred gold and another hundred in silver if you succeed."

Ezra leaned back slightly, weighing the information. The mention of fourth-rune magic users gave him pause, but not enough to deter him. "It shouldn't be a problem," he said finally, his tone confident. "Hand me a map with the suspected base locations. We'll work out a strategy and move out soon."

The man's hands trembled slightly as he pulled a rolled-up map from his bag and handed it to Ezra. Several locations were marked with Xs, indicating suspected cultist bases. "These are the areas where we think they've set up," the man said, his voice tinged with both hope and worry. "Good luck. I'd hate to see a young man like you die in vain."

Ezra took the map, his eyes scanning the marked locations. He tucked it into his bag with a firm nod. "Don't worry. We'll handle it. Just be ready to collect your goods once we're done."

As the man stepped back and made his way out of the base, Korr reappeared with Storm trailing behind, still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"What's the job?" Korr asked, leaning casually against the wall.

"Cultists, near the southern trade routes," Ezra replied, handing Korr the map. "They're armed, dangerous, they were running from the wanderers. It won't be a walk in the park, but the pay's worth the risk."

Storm's ears twitched nervously. "Cultists and Wanderers? Boss, you're really going all-in, huh?"

Ezra smirked. "You signed up for this, didn't you? Besides, it's not just about the money. If we can disrupt whatever they're planning, we might slow down the bigger threats heading our way."

Korr grinned. "Sounds like fun. When do we start?"

Ezra clapped a hand on Korr's shoulder. "Soon. Get your gear ready. We'll meet back here in an hour to go over the plan."

As the two headed off to prepare, Ezra looked down at the map again, his mind already running through scenarios. The cultists were strong, but they weren't unbeatable. 

Ezra gathered Storm and Korr at the front desk, unrolling the map onto the counter as they prepared their strategy. The map showed four marked locations, each representing a suspected cultist base.

"We don't know their exact numbers or who their strongest members are," Ezra began, tapping the map. "So, here's the plan: Storm and I will split up to scout two bases each. We'll estimate their numbers, identify key figures, and pinpoint any weak spots."

Storm nodded, leaning over the map. "And then what? We can't hit them all at once, right?"

"Exactly," Ezra replied. "We'll start with the weakest base and work our way up. Korr, that's where you come in. Once Storm and I report back, you'll create a diversion at the first base—something loud and flashy to draw their attention. While they're distracted, Storm and I will sneak in and take out their members one by one. Once we've thinned their ranks, we'll regroup and deal with their leader."

Korr grinned, slamming a fist into his palm. "I like the sound of that. But what's the point of saving the strongest for last?"

"If we hit the strongest base first," Ezra explained, "they could call for reinforcements from the other bases. If that happens, we'll be overwhelmed, and the mission will fall apart. By taking out the smaller groups first, we can cut off their support and isolate their leader."

Storm scratched his chin, his ears twitching as he considered the plan. "Makes sense. But what if they get suspicious and start regrouping on their own?"

Ezra gave a determined nod. "That's why speed is key. We don't give them time to realize what's happening. Once we've scouted and confirmed the details, we move fast. No delays."

The three exchanged glances, their determination solidifying.

"Alright," Korr said, cracking his knuckles. "Let's get to work."

With the plan set, they dispersed to prepare. Ezra felt the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders, but he pushed it aside. This mission wasn't just about the reward; it was a chance to prove their strength and protect the kingdom from a growing threat.

As he strapped on his gear and double-checked his weapons, Ezra took a deep breath. The road ahead would be dangerous, but they had a plan—and he intended to see it through to the end.