You've probably heard this story before.
Of how great heroes and their legends began.
Every young soul, upon reaching the age of sixteen, is considered an adult — and with adulthood comes a choice:
What path will they walk from that day forward?
Some choose the fields, living by the sweat of their brow, embracing a hard, yet peaceful life.
Others set out for the bustling cities, dreaming of fortunes as merchants, builders, blacksmiths — and, sometimes, adventurers.
And then there are those — the lucky ones, or perhaps the unfortunate — who are chosen by a Family.
Not just any family, but a divine one.
When the gods descended to Aetas, they brought with them their blessings, granting mortals the chance to rise beyond their limits, to become true heroes.
But the mage you see now did not wait for fate to smile upon her.
no. When her sixteenth year arrived, she made her choice, plain and simple.
She would forge her own destiny —as an adventurer, forward and through.
That's why she was at the doors of the guild in front of her
Her grandmother used to say the Guild was older than even the gods themselves. She never knew if that was true — but standing here and now, it certainly felt it.
The guild was built with one purpose in mind:
To aid the brave souls known as adventurers — ordinary folk, in their own way, who might gather in a tavern and think nothing of facing the monsters that roamed the world in those early days.
But unlike the other "agencies" of labor that dotted the cities, the Guild was something else entirely.
It was more like a marketplace of opportunities.
One would join as a member and accept jobs based on their skills — their qualifications, so to speak.
In the present age, adventurers have become something rather different:
mercenaries, for the most part, doing whatever work they can for coin and renown.
And naturally, no kingdom would allow so many armed souls to wander freely without careful management — and, when needed, careful use.
The mage then began to look around the city, it great place to live it or at least it look like one, the people are ussualy smiling the streets are clean and the market are full.
but she do not come here to look around markets and people she comes to become a adventure.
becouse from now own she will writh her own destiny.
With her gaze fixed on the huge building in front of her, she couldn't help but notice the difference compared to the places she was used to.
That building was more than just a building: it was like a colossal mansion, erected with an grandeur reminiscent of palaces that could only be seen in legends.
Around her , several figures hurried by, some armed, some not, all with an expression of seriousness and haste.
The Guild's building did not possess doors in the traditional sense; its entrance was vast, open, resembling a portal stretching towards the horizon.
Unlike conventional structures, which closed at the end of the day, here nothing closed, for the nature of the work within demanded freedom of movement, twenty-four hours a day.
The entrance, immense like the gates of a city, seemed to stretch on without end.
Inside, the environment was of a peculiar complexity.
Large inns and taverns occupied several floors of the building, with labyrinthine corridors leading to offices, and further still, a library that, curiously, seemed more a space of emptiness than one of great circulation. Hardly anyone visited this place, as if it were a forgotten refuge, where knowledge was lost within pages that no one turned.
Maybe I'll go there someday
And so, as if by luck or chance, the mage found herself crossing a sea of faces and bodies of various races.
Dwarves with thick beards and great heavy axes, elves with their slender and sharp bows, and even hobbits, always burdened with a mug of beer, almost larger than they themselves, wove through the continuous flow of people entering and leaving the place.
She tried, with some difficulty, to make her way through the crowd. There was something strange, something that made her question whether all of this was truly normal.
"Is it like this every day?"
feeling the weight of the question drag through her mind. But before she could lose herself further in thoughts, her eyes fell upon something that made her stop.
On the wall to her left, a large painting caught the attention of several adventurers. A brief moment of silence hung in the air as they gazed upon it with rapt attention.
It was a painting common to many, but to her, it was something new: a "Service Letter," as the more experienced ones called it. Once, she had imagined such documents to be mere bureaucracy, but now she saw how its words could alter fates.
On the other side, a conversation began to form between two burly men, clearly seasoned adventurers.
" I heard there's a demigod in the region. "
" Really ?"
" Yes, they say they saw him at the market, asking about a cave."
" So what? Let the man work. You speak as if he's any different from us."
" Are you out of your mind?! Everyone knows that whenever a demigod appears in an area, something terrible is about to happen."
" Nonsense."
" By the gods, listen to what I'm saying! Whenever a demigod appears, it's a sign that disaster is near."
The mage furrowed her brow, absorbing the words of the conversation, while the murmurs of voices around her seemed to intensify.
Her eyes fixed once more on the mission board, her mind still reflecting on those words... Demigods? What did that mean?
She had heard tales of demigods before — not just in taverns or the ramblings of drunk adventurers, but in voices that spoke with polish, in rooms that smelled of parchment and ink. Stories told by people who knew things.
Tales of heroes with divine blood, slayers of beasts, champions of gods. Of blades that sang with light and armor forged in starlight. She had devoured every story, dreamed of every battle. Not to be saved by such heroes — but to stand among them.
Even now, the memory of those quiet nights lingered. A soft chair. A crackling hearth. A voice speaking of glory as if it were possible — maybe even promised.
And what better place to chase such a promise than the Guild?
Soon, will I be among them?
The mage was not naive, or at least not foolish enough to believe that the life of an adventurer was simple or easy.
She had seen, on many occasions, adventurers return home wounded when she was a child, and she knew that the road of an adventurer was often marked by scars, both external and internal.
Still, she had always longed to be someone capable of making her own decisions, someone not shaped by the circumstances.
And what better place to do so than the Adventurers' Guild? There, choices were made by each individual, no matter how arduous the path might be.
The sound of the line moving around her brought the mage back to the present.
She had lost herself in her own thoughts, something that rarely happened, but now it seemed inevitable.
When it finally came her turn, the guild attendant looked at her with a sweet, yet clearly professional expression.
" How may I assist you today?" Asked the young woman, her voice carrying both attentiveness and efficiency.
The mage observed the attendant, who seemed not much older than herself. The girl's hair was meticulously arranged, each strand placed with almost obsessive precision, and her glasses were so clean that it was hard to tell where the lenses began and the reflection ended.
It was clear that the young woman had immense experience in her role. Although the task of attending was routine, she carried herself with the poise of someone who understood the importance of her position within the Guild.
There was no tension in her voice or body; everything about her seemed fluid, relaxed, as if she were completely in control.
The mage, still feeling a twinge of nervousness, let her lips curve gently upwards and swallowed her anxiety before speaking.
" I would like to become an adventurer"