"What’s wrong? You’re acting like you’ve never had it before." Cael tilted his head, genuinely puzzled, like the reaction itself was the strange part.

Theodore was already running a thin stream of wind across his own face, trying to strip the liquid off before it dried into anything permanent. His bellus had retreated fully into his collar.

"YOU MEAN this is bird shit?"

"Bird feces."

"YES. BIRD SHIT." Arthur wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, gargling water from the cup Theodore shoved at him a second later without being asked, both of them moving through the motions of damage control like they’d rehearsed it.

’What’s wrong with you, Arthur? Don’t you have something like this back in your world?’ Vexis gestured towards Arthur.

Yeah. We have hot chocolate. Made out of chocolate. Not bird shit.

"Anyway. Let’s go." Cael stood, brushing nothing off his coat that needed brushing, already moving toward the door. "Day’s starting. We should get registered before the guild fills up."

Arthur was still gargling.

---

Morning in Creslan didn’t look like morning anywhere else Arthur had been. The sun sat high and angry in the sky and somehow none of it landed properly on his skin, like something thin and translucent had been stretched over the whole kingdom and was filtering the warmth out before it could reach the ground.

Fire pits still burned despite the sun being fully up. Kids stood with their palms out toward the flames, warming their hands the same way Arthur used to warm his over a stovetop. Clothing here ran thick, padded layers under hide from something with real fur, wrapped around necks and wrists and most of the visible skin people had.

Arthur could feel the cold working its way through his coat seam by seam.

"Cael. I think we need the local clothes." He pulled his collar tighter. "I can still feel my whole body shaking under this thing."

"After we register."

Beside him Theodore sniffed hard, nose and ears gone red, his bellus tucked so far into his collar only its eyes showed.

Roz, on the other hand, looked completely unbothered.

"You don’t seem cold, master."

"I’m not. Thermoregulating with magic."

"Cool. I want that."

---

The guild building dwarfed the place they were staying. Tall, wide, the kind of structure that took up more than its fair share of the street and made no apology for it. Inside, tables scattered across the floor, people already drinking this early, armor layered under coats that hadn’t come off since whatever they’d been doing the night before. A long bar ran along one wall, bottles stacked behind it three rows deep. Across the room, a second desk sat under a wall covered in mounted heads, trophies from whatever the guild’s members had managed to kill and drag back through the front door.

Behind that desk sat a woman with black hair tied back, wrapped in the hide of something with thick fur, her eyes a striking blue that didn’t match the boredom sitting on the rest of her face.

Cael approached first and set three gold credits on the table. "Registration paperwork. For the three of us."

She looked at Cael. Then Arthur. Then Theodore. "Vasker registration?"

"Yes."

She pulled four sheets of brown paper from a drawer, handed three across, kept one for herself. "You look foreign by your clothes. State your origin, any factions, fill the forms."

"Ishkral. Magus of Magilea Academy."

The woman’s head came up slowly.

From the other side of the room, laughter. "What are mages doing here?"

Arthur turned. A heavily armored man stood near the bar, sword at his hip, wooden mug in one hand.

Oh, don’t give me this cliché crap, Arthur thought.

The man came closer, exaggerating his confusion. "Did I hear that right? Mages? All three of you?"

"Yes," Cael said.

The man’s face went still for a second, then split into a wide grin. Laughter broke out behind him, his companions joining in without needing to know what exactly was funny. "A mage wants to be a Vasker?" He looked back at his group. "Boys, they want to be Vaskers."

(’You might not know this yet, Arthur, but mages get mocked in places like this. Rare for one to enter something physical and dangerous like hunting.’)

I know that already. Mages stay in the back lines. Not the front, not where things actually try to kill you up close.

"Are you serious right now?" The man kept laughing. "Please tell me you’re at least a battlemage or something."

Cael’s hand dipped into the pouch at his hip. Two gold credits hit the floor and rolled, catching light as they spun.

"Kindly refrain from disturbing us further and return to your drink." His voice came out clean and unbothered, the tone of someone explaining something obvious to a child. "Or whatever passes for entertainment among your kind."

The man’s eyes followed the credits. His friends were already crouched, scooping them up.

"You mage bastard." His hand went to the hilt at his hip.

"Now, now." A new voice, from a door at the far end of the floor. "Let’s not start anything in the guild, shall we?"

The door opened. A tall, lean man stepped out, forearms lined with old scars, hair long and black, eyes the same shade. "Wouldn’t want to ruin the experience for our travelers."

The armored man’s hand dropped off his sword. He clicked his tongue and walked off.

"So." The long-haired man’s eyes swept the three of them. "Three mages from Magilea. Second-years?"

"That’s correct," Arthur said.

Theodore was still glancing sideways at the other Vaskers, shoulders tight.

"We don’t get many mages out this way. Especially not in Moncruir District. This is hunter territory. You’ll find more swordbearers here than anything else."

Cael handed over his form. "We’re not acting as mages currently. We’re adventurers."

The man fixed a strand of his hair behind one ear. "Is that right? And why’s that?"

"Year break," Arthur said easily. "We figured we’d see another kingdom. Learn the culture. Decided applying here made sense."

’This guy’s asking too many questions. Starting to irritate me.’ Vexis said.

I know.

’But Arthur. Can you feel it through your field? Him specifically.’) A pause. (’He’s a strong Stima user.’

Arthur looked at the man’s posture again. Loose. Shoulders angled toward all three of them at once, like he was watching for something none of them had done yet.

Theodore handed his form over last.

"Well, if that’s the case, we’re happy to have you." The man collected all three papers. "Fill these out completely and we’ll issue your sigils. After that, pick whatever quest suits you."

He scanned the forms. His eyes stopped on Arthur’s.

"Lestilaut?" He looked up. "You’re the Lestilaut. From the culmination in Ishkral."

’He knows about us.’

Arthur smiled, kept it loose. "I think so, yeah."

"A Lestilaut applying as a Vasker. In my guild. I’m honored."

"You’re welcome, I guess?"

"You’re famous out here, you know. Talk of the district last month. A mage who turned out to be a swordbearer the whole time. Who was the other one again, the Almonth kid?"

"News travels fast, I guess." Arthur laughed, a little stiff.

Cael glanced at him. Theodore did too.

"Anyway. Not going to keep you youngsters standing here all day. Registration’s done. Quest postings are outside the guild. Pick one, bring back proof of the kill for confirmation." He set three bronze sigils on the desk. "Have fun out there."

---

Outside, Cael scanned the street before turning to Arthur, his expression unreadable beneath the cold. "This might complicate things."

"How so?"

"News from the culmination already reached here, apparently faster and further than I would have guessed. He recognized you on sight, more or less, the moment he read the name on the form. That kind of attention works against what we’re trying to do."

Theodore raised a hand, his bellus finally peeking out from his collar now that they were moving and the cold felt slightly less aggressive. "He didn’t recognize Vex right away, though. Only after he saw the name written down."

"Theodore’s right. Don’t overthink it." Arthur said, already walking toward the quest board, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets.

Cael went quiet for a moment, clearly unconvinced, then walked over to the board of posted quests himself. He studied it carefully, scanning line by line, before pulling one free from the stack.

He came back and held it out for Arthur and Theodore to see.

"Our first hunt. Look at where the request originated from."

"Vorik. Monster part trading," Theodore read.

"Correct. That’s our target."