Chosen By The Lover's Constellation-Chapter 88: Bonus - - Who Is Cynthia Taylor?

{June 1, 221 2E}

The air was tinged with excitement and anticipation as Cynthia Taylor approached the grand entrance of the Silver Blade’s guildhall.

Her parents, supportive but visibly anxious, walked beside her, the polished stone facade of the guild’s headquarters towering above them.

A sixteen-year-old, wide-eyed young girl named Cynthia Taylor was about to become an adventurer.

"Wow..." Her father said. "Place looks so... Old."

The guild office buzzed with activity. Adventurers clad in various armors, their weapons at their sides, milled about, sharing stories and laughing.

A large sign overhead bore the guild’s emblem, a silver blade glinting under the sunlight, a symbol of courage and adventure.

Cynthia couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nerves in her stomach as she stepped through the threshold.

But, no matter how nervous she felt, every single step she took was resolute.

An insatiable curiosity, born from glimpses of legends here and there, online and in person, pushed Cynthia forward in pursuit of a career just like theirs.

A receptionist, clad in the guild’s signature silver and blue uniform, greeted them with a warm smile.

"Welcome to the Silver Blade. I’m Mia. How may I assist you today?"

Cynthia’s mother, a woman with a gentle demeanor but eyes filled with worry, spoke up.

"Our daughter, Cynthia, wishes to join your guild. We’ve heard great things about the Silver Blade."

Mia’s eyes flickered toward Cynthia, and she nodded.

"That is indeed an excellent choice! Let me explain the bulk of our work first, though."

As Mia detailed the guild’s structure, Cynthia absorbed every word.

The Silver Blade specialized in hunting down Fiends, the nightmarish abominations that plagued the land. Their work was vital for maintaining peace and protecting the realms from these supernatural threats.

Cynthia’s father, a sturdy man with graying hair and a strong presence, asked:

"How do you determine who’s fit to join?"

Mia glanced at Cynthia’s parents before turning to her.

"We assess an individual’s potential through this, a handy little machine that lets us know what is to be expected from you. It allows us to see a newcomer’s status and their potential."

She produced the machine, a block of metal with a scanner on top.

"Please, place your hand atop this object and we can begin.

Cynthia did just that.

Her status appeared in the other woman’s mind. Cynthia looked at it herself to recall her own capability. The reason why she’d asked her parents to take her here.

Cynthia Taylor

MP: 10/10

---

STR: F

END: F

DEX: F

MYS: F

L: S+

---

Traits:

Seed of Heaven

{The world is in the palm of your hand. Learning, training, and improving are much easier for you than they are for others.}

---

Instinct:

The Heart of Nothingness - 30-second cooldown

{Your inner peace infects an enemy, lowering their bloodlust and desire to attack you}

---

"Um..." The lady blinked, looking back and forth between her status and Cynthia. "One moment, please."

With trembling hands, she dialed a number on her phone.

"Y-Yes? Sir, uhm... I-I just wanted to inform you that..."

She walked away.

"Uh, she liked what she saw, right? Or, is this bad?" Cynthia’s father asked.

"I don’t know. I looked online and players have been rejected for all sorts of ridiculous stuff. They probably won’t accept you. It’s a shame, but, what can you do?" Her mother stated. It almost sounded like she wanted Cynthia to be rejected.

"I apologize for the interruption," Mia said as she came back. "You’ve been accepted. Welcome to the Silver Blade, Miss Taylor. I hope you will enjoy your stint with us."

Cynthia smiled. That was all she did. She’d never been one to have huge outbursts of emotion, even as a child growing up.

Her parents’ jaws hit the floor.

"Oh," her mother replied. "Um... Good."

---

Later that evening, Cynthia found herself at the home of her closest friend, Emma. The two sat on Emma’s porch, the evening sun casting a warm glow over the town. A gentle breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers and the distant murmur of lively conversation.

Emma, with her dark hair cascading over her shoulders and eyes that sparkled with enthusiasm, couldn’t wait to share her news.

"Guess what? I got accepted into the Watchful Guild!"

Cynthia’s eyes widened in surprise.

"The Watchful? What will you be doing?"

"You know, you could stand to be a little happier for me!" Emma teased. "Gosh, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you be excited for anything. You’re like a robot."

"I’m excited right now," Cynthia told her, though her expression didn’t change much. "I am positively buzzing."

Playfully, Emma lightly pushed her away and Cynthia shrugged.

"Anyway, I’ll be focusing on saving people. Less Fiends, more first aid. That sort of thing."

"Sounds boring."

"You’re boring!"

Cynthia giggled silently.

"Maybe I just prefer a different kind of excitement. Like discovering a hidden treasure in an old book or stumbling upon an uncharted part of the city."

Emma rolled her eyes.

"You and your books. I swear. You know, your job’s probably going to be nothing like those adventures you always read about."

Cynthia smirked.

"Who’s to say? Those tales come from somewhere, don’t they?"

"I guess..."

Then, Cynthia placed a hand over Emma’s, catching her attention.

"But I’m genuinely happy for you, Emma. I just hope you don’t get bored is all."

Emma laughed.

"As if anything could bore you out in the wild. Even if I’m in the Watchful, I’ll probably have to fight some Fiends every now and then."

Admittedly, that part worried Cynthia. But, she tried not to show it.

Emma’s excitement simmered down as she looked at Cynthia with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"You’re always so... I don’t know. Blank? I hope you’re not just going to forget about me as soon as we go out in the field."

Cynthia tilted her head, meeting Emma’s gaze.

"Of course not. I value our friendship very much."

"... You could show it a little more often, is all."

Cynthia blinked, looking down at her lap.

[Is that so?]

The night descended later, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink. As Cynthia walked home, she gazed into the horizon, contemplating the path she had chosen. The Silver Blade awaited her, and within its ranks, she would carve her destiny.

With a deep breath, she whispered to herself:

"So, I got accepted."

She turned away.

"Nice."

---

{One Week Later}

The guildhall training grounds echoed with the sounds of clashing weapons and enthusiastic shouts.

Cynthia stood in the midst of it all, her expression focused and determined. She wore the standard Silver Blade uniform, a stark contrast to the seasoned adventurers surrounding her, adorned in battle-worn armor and brandishing impressive weapons.

During her first training session, the more experienced members couldn’t help but notice the novice among them.

Whispers and chuckles followed Cynthia as she attempted to keep up with the drills. Her movements were awkward, and her strikes lacked the finesse that seasoned fighters effortlessly displayed.

One burly warrior approached Cynthia with a condescending grin.

"Look who we’ve got here. Fresh meat, huh? Better not get in the way, kid."

Cynthia met his gaze without a hint of resentment, her determination unwavering. She nodded politely, acknowledging the jest, and continued with her training regimen.

As days passed, Cynthia’s persistence became apparent.

She tirelessly practiced, absorbing the techniques demonstrated by the more experienced guild members. How to use a sword, a shield, a bow. Anything she could learn.

Each day brought incremental improvements. The initial laughter and dismissive comments transformed over time into quiet observations.

Cynthia’s dedication began to earn her a modicum of respect, and some even found themselves offering tips and guidance.

A week later, Cynthia’s movements displayed a noticeable refinement.

After one more week, her status now looked like this:

Cynthia Taylor

MP: 250/250

---

STR: C-

END: C-

DEX: C-

MYS: C-

L: S+

Her physical attributes were making incredible progress. Cynthia had surpassed the expectations of many.

She seamlessly executed combat maneuvers, her body moving with a grace that belied her initial struggles. The seasoned adventurers, once skeptical, now watched in awe as Cynthia practiced alongside them.

A man, one of the ones that usually cracked jokes about her, approached Cynthia with a rare smile on his weathered face.

"You’ve come a long way, kid. Looks like you might actually survive your first mission."

Cynthia’s expression remained calm, but a spark of pride flickered in her eyes. The news had spread throughout the guild.

Cynthia, the once-ridiculed recently acquired novice, was ready for her first official mission.

One of the higher ranking members, a lady who went by Captain Elara, called Cynthia to her office.

The atmosphere was serious, but there was a glint of approval in the captain’s eyes.

"Cynthia Taylor," Captain Elara began, her tone measured. "Your progress has been remarkable. You’ve shown dedication, adaptability, and a resilience that not many possess. We believe you’re ready for your first mission. What do you say?"

Cynthia blinked.

"Awesome," she said quietly, with a little smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Elara raised a brow but didn’t say anything.

---

A couple of days later, the moon hung low in the night sky as Cynthia Taylor, adorned in some cheap Silver Blade armor, with plate and black leather in equal measure, stood among her fellow adventurers at the guildhall’s entrance.

The seasoned warriors, each with their own battle scars and tales of triumph, regarded her with a mix of curiosity and solidarity.

Captain Elara, standing tall and resolute, addressed the group.

"How about we introduce ourselves?"

As the group prepared to embark on their mission to the mist-covered forest, Cynthia found herself surrounded by experienced adventurers.

Each of them took a moment to introduce themselves, offering a glimpse into the diverse skills and backgrounds that composed their team.

"Name’s Gruff. Been with the Silver Blade longer than most. You watch my back, and I’ll watch yours, alright?" The first guy to step up extended a calloused hand toward Cynthia.

Cynthia nodded, her response as succinct as her calm demeanor.

"I’m Cynthia."

Natalie, a sorceress, followed suit, her eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief.

"Natalie, the resident mage. Stick close to me, and I’ll make sure the Fiends regret crossing our path."

Cynthia offered a small smile, acknowledging the mage’s introduction.

"Um, I’m Cynthia."

Next was Roland, a stern swordsman. He spoke with a straightforward tone, his gaze piercing.

"Roland. I’ve seen the potential in your moves. Just don’t get in my way, and we’ll get along fine."

"Sounds good. I’m Cynthia."

A girl walked up next, one with a bow on her back. With brown hair tied into twin tails and a dopey smile on her face, she actually looked like she was around Cynthia’s age if maybe a year or two older.

"I’m Monica!"

Cynthia smiled a little wider.

"I’m Cynthia!"

The last to introduce himself was a nimble swordsman with a hawk-like gaze.

"Kael. I’ll cover you. Try not to get yourself killed out here."

Cynthia acknowledged him with a nod.

"Got it... Oh, and I’m Cynthia."

The adventurers exchanged glances and chuckles. Gruff slapped Cynthia on the back with a hearty laugh.

"Alright, Cynthia, cool. Short and sweet. Let’s see if those swords of yours speak louder than your words on the battlefield."

"Well," the captain clapped her hands. "Guess that’s it for that. Now, listen up everyone."

The small group quieted down.

"Tonight, we embark on a mission to the mist-covered forest to the northwest. There’s a military road and Fiends have taken residence, blocking a pretty vital path. Our objective is clear: clear the road. Cynthia, this marks your first official mission. Stay vigilant, okay?"

"I will."

Cynthia nodded, a quiet acknowledgment of the responsibility that lay ahead.

The group set out, the mist shrouding the forest adding an eerie ambiance to the night. The seasoned adventurers moved with purpose, their weapons at the ready, while Cynthia followed suit, her hand gripping her swords’ hilts.

As they ventured deeper, the mist thickened, reducing visibility.

The rustle of unseen creatures and the distant unnatural noises of unknown dangers echoed through the trees. The group moved in a calculated formation, their senses heightened, anticipating the looming threat.

A sudden snarl pierced the silence, and shadowy figures emerged from the mist.

Fiends.

Slithering forward with twisted forms and glowing eyes. The seasoned adventurers tightened their grips on their weapons, preparing for the skirmish.

"Stay calm, everyone! Keep a diamond formation!"

That meant that Cynthia needed to stay in the middle, with Monica behind her.

The battle began. The adventurers took the Fiends on, launching spells and arrows, and running up to slash them.

Cynthia wasn’t about to be a simple bystander. She ran up and did the same.

Dashing in, she ran her swords down the length of the Fiend’s fleshy, writhing body.

"Well, looks like the newbie’s got a pair on her! Keep it up, kid!" Gruff remarked.

The skirmish intensified as a couple more Fiends emerged from the mist. Cynthia’s instincts guided her, and the conditioning she’d worked on allowed her to remain active. She was breaking a sweat, but she could still move.

The last Fiend was reduced to a pin cushion with multiple arrows sticking out of it and blades stabbing it over and over again.

As the last Fiend fell, the mist felt far less thick, revealing the moonlit forest in its wake. Captain Elara surveyed the road over and over again, eventually returning with a satisfied nod.

The road to the Telvan military base was now clear.

Cynthia, her armor marked with the remnants of battle, stood among the seasoned adventurers.

The initial doubts and whispers had transformed into genuine camaraderie. Gruff slapped her on the shoulder again.

"Not bad for your first dance, kid. You’ve got potential."

Cynthia grinned.

"Thank you."

Later, the guildhall’s courtyard bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, and amidst the bustling atmosphere, Cynthia found herself in a quiet corner, humming a little song to herself.

Monica, the skilled archer, approached with a friendly smile.

"Hey, Cynthia, right? Mind if I join you?"

Cynthia looked up, her calm gaze meeting Monica’s.

"Not at all. Have a seat."

Monica settled beside Cynthia, her bow resting against her shoulder.

"So, how are you finding the guild life?"

"It’s a little different than I thought it’d be, but I believe I’m adapting."

Monica chuckled, a lightness in her tone.

"Oh wow, that’s the most words you’ve said so far! So, you can talk a lot..."

"Only when the company’s nice."

Monica’s brows shot up to the ceiling.

"Anyway," Cynthia continued. "It’s nice, though. Just... different."

"Different, huh? Well, give it some time. The Silver Blade’s kinda like its own little family. I think you’ll like it here."

Cynthia nodded, remaining silent.

[I hope so.]

"What made you choose the Assassin class, by the way? It’s not the usual pick for newcomers."

Cynthia’s eyes flickered with a hint of amusement, surprised Monica had caught on to the Techniques she’d used out in the field.

"I find satisfaction in precision. The Assassin class aligns with that."

"Precision. I can respect that."

"You have plenty of it yourself. Your aim’s pretty good."

Monica grinned a spark of pride in her eyes.

"Years of practice. Been training with a bow since I was 12. I can hit a target from miles away. Maybe one of these days, we can train together."

Cynthia’s expression softened.

"I’d like that."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm hue over the guildhall, Cynthia and Monica continued their quiet conversation, chatting away beneath the stars.

---

The next mission didn’t go quite as well.

The air held a tense energy. It was the same mist-covered forest and the same objective.

Arrive, kill Fiends, leave. Simple.

Monica stood by Cynthia’s side, her bow ready for action.

"Tonight’s mission is to clear the mist-covered forest once more. Fiends have been spotted, and our presence is required- yada, yada, yada. Stay vigilant and watch each other’s backs," Captain Elara had said before the group headed out and Cynthia intended to do as she asked.

As the group ventured into the dense forest, Cynthia’s senses heightened.

The mist clung to the trees like a spectral veil, obscuring visibility. The rhythmic steps of the adventurers echoed through the silence, each footfall a reminder of the impending skirmish.

It was the same place she and the others had been to before, but that was no reason to take it easy.

The first encounter was swift and brutal. Fiends emerged from the mist, their grotesque forms baying for blood.

The clash of steel against otherworldly hide filled the air.

Cynthia, relying on the speed she’d continued to hone, moved with calculated precision, her swords finding vulnerable points in the Fiends’ defenses.

Monica’s arrows flew true, each shot striking with deadly accuracy.

The group fought cohesively, the seasoned adventurers complementing each other’s strengths. The mist, however, masked the true extent of the threat that lurked within.

A sudden howl echoed through the forest, freezing the blood in their veins. A Fiend that was larger and more menacing than any they had encountered before, emerged from the shadows.

Its eyes glowed with an unnatural malevolence, and its presence sent a ripple of fear through the group.

Monica, undeterred, readied her bow for a decisive shot. The arrow soared through the mist, aiming for the Fiend’s glowing eyes. Yet, in a cruel twist of fate, the creature swatted the arrow away with a swift, unexpected motion.

The archer’s eyes widened in realization, a split second too late.

Cynthia, from her vantage point, witnessed the tragedy unfold in slow motion. The colossal Fiend lunged at Monica, its claws tearing through the air. The archer attempted to dodge, but the creature’s speed was unmatched.

The impact was devastating. Monica was thrown aside like a ragdoll, her bow clattering to the forest floor, her body leaving a trail of red liquid on the ground. The Fiend, triumphant, roared into the night.

Time stood still as Cynthia rushed to Monica’s side. The archer lay motionless, a crimson stain spreading across her side. The other adventurers fought fiercely against the colossal Fiend, but their attention was divided.

Cynthia, her hands trembling, attempted to apply pressure to Monica’s wounds. The archer’s eyes flickered open, pain etched across her face.

"I-I got careless," Monica whispered, her breaths labored. "Cynthia, help..."

"I’ve got you," Cynthia replied, about to pick the girl up. "I-"

"No," Monica shook her head. "Help the others."

Then, her eyes closed.

A lump formed in Cynthia’s throat.

"... I will."

Cynthia, her grief transformed into a steely resolve, rose from Monica’s side. The loss weighed heavy on her heart, but the mission remained. These Fiends needed to be taken down.

In a display of newfound strength, Cynthia moved toward the enemies with a fervor born from grief.

Her swords danced through the mist, finding their marks with deadly precision.

The remaining adventurers, rallying behind Cynthia’s determined lead, fought with a renewed intensity.

The colossal Fiend, now facing a united front, succumbed to the onslaught. Its roars echoed through the forest one last time before it collapsed, defeated.

As the mist began to lift, revealing the aftermath of the battle, Cynthia stood among her surviving allies. Monica’s bow lay abandoned on the forest floor, a silent testament to the archer’s sacrifice.

They returned to the guildhall with it and with her body, carrying the weight of both victory and loss.

That was when Cynthia first came to grips with what this job of hers entailed.

At the girl’s funeral that the guild held, Captain Elara delivered a eulogy, recounting Monica’s bravery and skill in the face of adversity. The guildmates shared stories and memories of the archer’s camaraderie and unwavering spirit.

As the funeral concluded, Cynthia found herself alone in the guildhall’s courtyard.

The moon hung overhead, casting a gentle glow on Monica’s bow, laid atop her grave. The weight of the loss settled in Cynthia’s chest, and she pondered the purpose that lay ahead.

In the quiet courtyard, Cynthia whispered to herself:

"Is this really the best path for me?"

---

{A Few Months Later}

The Silver Blade’s guildhall was bathed in the soft glow of lantern light as Cynthia approached Captain Elara’s office.

The door creaked open, and she stepped inside, her Silver Blade armor glinting in the dim room. Captain Elara looked up from her paperwork, her expression a mix of surprise and concern.

"Cynthia? What’s up?"

"Captain Elara," Cynthia sighed. "I’ve come to submit my resignation from the Silver Blade."

Captain Elara’s brow furrowed, and she motioned for Cynthia to sit.

"Resignation? May I ask why? Is someone bullying you?"

Cynthia took a deep breath, her gaze steady.

"No. I appreciate the opportunities the Silver Blade has given me, after thinking about it a little... I’ve decided maybe it would be better for me to focus on helping people rather than hunting Fiends down."

"Hunting Fiends down does help people, though."

"It does," Cynthia conceded. "But, I guess... I guess I want to make my objective a little clearer."

Captain Elara sighed, her gaze softening with understanding.

"Well... It sounds like you’ve thought this through."

"I have." Cynthia continued. "I’ve seen the losses, Captain. Monica’s sacrifice, and other adventurers we’ve lost... made me realize I want to make a difference, to protect lives directly. So, I think I’m going to join the Watchful," she declared.

Elara’s surprise was so evident her eyes were white discs.

"The Watchful focus on saving people, and that’s where I believe I can contribute the most."

Captain Elara nodded, recognizing the conviction in Cynthia’s words.

"Very well, Cynthia. If that’s your choice, I won’t stand in your way. You’ve been a valuable member of the Silver Blade, and I wish you success in your new path."

"Thank you. I’ll leave the armor and-"

"No," she shook her head. "Keep the gear. A little souvenir to remember us by."

"... Thank you."

Cynthia offered a respectful nod before leaving the office, her heart heavy with the weight of her decision.

As she stepped into the cool night air, she felt a mixture of determination and uncertainty. The Watchful awaited her, and with each step away from the guildhall, the echoes of her time with the Silver Blade lingered in the back of her mind.

---

The first day at the Watchful Guild was an odd experience for Cynthia.

The atmosphere was far more relaxed than the disciplined routine she had grown accustomed to at the Silver Blade. Adventurers lounged around, chatting, some even playing card games or swapping jokes.

It was a stark contrast to the demeanor of her previous guildmates. Those had their fun as well, but they spent most of their time training. These people were literally just lounging.

Cynthia, clad in the same armor as before, only with a Watchful emblem now, observed the scene with a quizzical expression.

She brought up the guild’s website on her phone, searching for a display showcasing available quests.

As she scrolled through the list, one caught her eye.

A simple task of delivering resources and rations to a group of adventurers stationed on the outskirts of Telvan.

"Well, it’s not saving the world, but it’s a start."

She accepted the mission, the digital interface confirming her choice.

It already felt far less glamorous than the Silver Blade, but she’d made her mind up.

If this would help, then this was what she wanted to do.

---

The journey was uneventful, and as Cynthia approached the designated location, she found a group of adventurers lazing around a makeshift campsite.

Tents were haphazardly pitched, and the smell of a recently extinguished campfire lingered in the air.

"Hey, fresh face! What brings you here?" One guy asked.

"I have a delivery for your group. Resources and rations."

Cynthia brought out a couple of crates from her Inventory and placed them in front of the adventurers.

"Oh, fantastic! We were running low on snacks. What’s your name, by the way?"

"Cynthia. I’m from the Watchful."

The adventurers exchanged glances, a few stifling laughter.

"Watchful, huh? You wanna my shine my boots too?"

Cynthia arched a brow.

"Excuse me?"

"Clean my laundry? Cut my hair, maybe?"

To say Cynthia was baffled was an understatement.

"... Very well," the girl said, "you have your rations. Goodbye."

"Aw, come on! We have all sorts of chores you could do for us! Wait up!"

As she made her way back to the Watchful Guild, Cynthia couldn’t help but wonder if she’d made a terrible mistake.

[I thought I’d be saving people... What in the world was that?]

---

Knowing what she truly wanted to do, Cynthia took the first opportunity she could that actually involved saving people.

The Still River wound through the dense forest, its quiet murmur masking the tragedy that had befallen the group of adventurers Cynthia was here to help.

Cynthia stood at the glowing riverbank, the mission details fresh in her mind.

The message on the guild’s website had been somber, describing a team that had gone silent during a mission to investigate Fiend activity near the Still River, a flowing body of water believed to be capable of creating Fiends, akin to a mana storm.

No one else had taken the mission, perhaps deterred by the ominous circumstances.

Cynthia, however, saw it as an opportunity to prove her worth in the Watchful Guild and to fulfill her newfound purpose of saving lives directly. So, she gathered supplies, strapped her dual swords to her back, and set out for the Still River alone.

The forest was eerily quiet as she approached the location.

The air was thick with tension, a tangible unease that weighed on her shoulders. The sun cast long shadows between the trees as she moved deeper into the woods.

The first sign of trouble manifested as she discovered the scattered belongings of the missing adventurers. Abandoned backpacks, discarded weapons, and ominous bloodstains on the foliage. The gravity of the situation hung in the air.

As she pushed through the woods along the riverbank, she stumbled upon a grim scene. Multiple lifeless bodies, adventurers who had met a brutal end at the hands of Fiends.

The remnants of a fierce battle told a story of desperation and sacrifice. Cynthia’s gaze tightened as she surveyed the aftermath, a steely resolve solidifying within her.

[Someone has to have made it out, right?]

Continuing her exploration, she heard a faint rustle in the bushes nearby.

Cynthia moved cautiously, her senses alert. In a small clearing, she found a grey-haired, young girl huddled against a tree, eyes wide with fear.

"Um, hello?" Cynthia tried to greet her but the girl flinched, pulling back. "It’s okay. I’m here to help. Here, you probably need this."

Cynthia approached with caution, sensing the fragility of the situation.

She held out a pouch of dried fruits and a flask of water.

The girl’s hands trembled as she accepted the provisions. She looked up at Cynthia, her eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and fear.

"Thank you... I thought I was going to die here."

"You’re safe now. We need to find the others. Can you walk?"

Sylver nodded, her movements hesitant but cooperative. The two set out along the riverbank, navigating the dense foliage. Cynthia tried to make conversation to ease the tension.

"So, what’s your name?"

"Sylver."

"Ah, Sylver. My name’s Cynthia. It’s a pleasure, though I wish we could have met under different circumstances." She paused. "How long have you been hiding out here?"

"Two days. I saw the Fiends attack, and I just... I couldn’t move. I... I didn’t do anything."

"At least you survived, so there’s that."

They walked in silence for a while, the only sounds being the crunch of leaves under their feet and the distant murmur of the river.

Cynthia respected the silence, knowing that sometimes words couldn’t fully comfort people in moments like these.

As they ventured deeper, the signs of Fiend activity became more apparent. Claw marks on trees, eerie growls echoing through the woods.

Suddenly, the sounds of violent clashes reached her ears. Cynthia motioned for Sylver to stay hidden as she approached cautiously. Peering through the trees, she witnessed the remaining adventurers making their last stand against a group of Fiends.

[There!]

Without hesitation, Cynthia leaped into action, her dual swords drawn.

The Fiends, caught off guard by her sudden appearance, turned their attention to the lone warrior.

Having caught them by surprise, her movements were a blur as she weaved through their attacks, blades flashing in calculated arcs.

With this new combatant on their side, the tide of battle changed in an instant.

Sylver watched in awe as Cynthia helped dispatch each enemy with precision and speed. The remaining adventurers, battered and weary, looked on with a mix of gratitude and disbelief.

She may as well have been an angel in their eyes.

Cynthia stood among the fallen Fiends, her swords gleaming with a mixture of blood and victory.

"Is everyone okay?"

One of the adventurers, a grizzled warrior with a bandaged arm, nodded as he fell to one knee.

"Thank you, stranger. We... We almost didn’t make it."

"I just did my job," Cynthia replied with a smile. "Come on. I’ve got food, water, and healing potions for everyone. Eat up and let’s get you all back home."

With that being said, the group settled down to take a moment and recover.

Cynthia didn’t sit with them. She didn’t want to intrude on their celebration.

Glancing over at the camp they set up, she found the adventurers laughing and talking. Some of them had slightly weary, depressed looks, but they were holding up well enough. Cynthia wanted to let them do that on their own.

As she sat with her back to a tree, though, a girl walked up.

"Sylver?" Cynthia asked. "Need anything?"

"No, uhm... I just wanted to say thank you, Cynthia. I don’t know what would’ve happened without you."

"Like I said before, no need to thank me," Cynthia responded. "I’m a member of the Watchful. This is literally just my job."