Having turned sixteen a little less than a week ago, Kaelen now stood at the edge of everything he'd ever dreamed of.
The morning had begun at Mari's home, where both families gathered to see them off. Kaelen and Mari stood in the center of the room, fully geared and ready, but still—just for a moment—children under the weight of four watchful gazes.
Kaelen adjusted the long green cloak on his shoulders; the same one Mari had given him eight years ago—now refitted and lengthened to match his growth. At his side hung a leather pouch, its stitching faded but strong. Both items were worn with use, but still carried the weight of love and memory. His newest possession—a sleek, curved bow of black yew gifted by his parents—rested proudly across his back. Its polished surface gleamed faintly in the morning light, the bowstring taut and ready.
Kaelen stood just shy of average height for his age, with a lean, wiry build shaped by years of disciplined training. His hair, thick and dark brown, fell in uneven waves just past his ears, usually tousled no matter how recently he combed it. His skin was fair, with a faint pink flush to his cheeks from the spring chill. A small scar marked his right forearm—a quiet reminder of a sparring match gone wrong. His eyes were a clear, stormy gray—watchful, focused, and older than his years. He carried himself with a calm confidence, the kind earned through quiet persistence and long effort.
Beside him, Mari shifted her weight slightly, the leather of her training armour creaking softly. She had turned sixteen five months earlier, but she had waited. Refused to join the guild without him.
She stood taller than Kaelen by a few inches, with a lean, athletic frame honed by constant movement and practice. Her skin was a few shades darker than Kaelen's, sun-kissed from their outdoor training. Her dark hair was pulled back into a high braid, streaked faintly with copper in the sunlight. She had a bold, clear gaze—green eyes that held a quiet fire—and a faint scar traced her jaw, a gift from a poorly dodged blow in their early sparring days, and she wore the imperfection like a badge.
Across her back was strapped a bastard sword with a wrapped leather grip, its edges well-maintained and polished to a steel-gray sheen. Her armour was custom-fitted leather reinforced with interwoven mail along the shoulders and ribs—designed for flexibility without sacrificing protection. Over it she wore a dark green coat hemmed for travel and a deep hood, one sleeve pinned up to display a faded cloth armband wrapped tight around her upper bicep—Tobias's old armband, once worn proudly on every road he walked. Now, she bore it like a mantle.
She looked every bit her father's daughter. And more.
Both of them bore the faint shimmer in their skin and the steadiness in their step that marked them as Second-Seal Warriors—an incredible feat for anyone, let alone two sixteen-year-olds. The aura that flowed through their bodies was subtle but potent, tucked beneath the skin like coiled thunder.
Tobias stood tall, arms crossed, eyes focused on Mari. He didn't say much, but the pride in his gaze said enough. Mistress Harrow stood beside him, her hands folded tightly in front of her, hiding their tremble. She stepped forward to adjust Mari's collar, then ran her hand along her daughter's braid.
"Stay sharp," she murmured, then looked to Kaelen and added with a faint smirk, "And keep her out of trouble."
Edrin stepped over and clasped Kaelen by the shoulder. "You've grown, boy. Just remember, your strength doesn't only lie in your bow."
Selene hugged her son close, then looked at both of them with a soft smile. "You've trained hard. You've earned this. We'll be here when you return."
The four parents stood in a quiet line as the two stepped toward the door. Tobias broke the silence at last. "Walk proud. And remember what you carry."
Kaelen and Mari nodded. Then they stepped outside, the door closing gently behind them.
Their parents watched from the window until the two disappeared around the corner, boots tapping lightly into the rhythm of a new day.
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In front of them loomed the Greystone Adventurer's Guild—an old stone building wedged between a tannery and a smithy; its arched doorway marked by a weatherworn sign shaped like a sword crossed with a quill. The door was open, the scent of oil, sweat, and old wood drifting out. Somewhere inside, the future waited.
Mari gave him a sideways glance. "You're quiet. Nervous?"
Kaelen exhaled slowly. "A little. This is... everything we've worked for."
She smiled, just a little. "Exactly. So, hold your head up and don't let them see it shake."
They stepped forward together, crossing the threshold of the guild as one.
Inside, the Greystone Adventurer's Guild was a flurry of motion and sound. The walls were lined with noticeboards packed with faded quest papers, warnings, and handwritten notes. The scent of leather, ink, and sweat clung to the air, mingling with the low hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. A long wooden counter stood at the far end of the hall, behind which sat a bored-looking clerk leafing through a ledger.
Kaelen and Mari approached the counter, their boots echoing on the stone floor. The clerk glanced up—an older man with thinning hair and a crooked nose, ink stains on his fingers.
"New applicants?" he asked, already reaching for forms.
Mari nodded. "Mari Harrow and Kaelen of Redfield. Here to register."
He blinked. "Sixteen, are you?"
"We are," Kaelen confirmed.
"Right then," the clerk muttered, pulling out two thin sheets of parchment. "Most start at F-rank. Courier work, pest control, guard duty—light stuff."
Kaelen opened his mouth, but Mari beat him to it. "We're Second-Seal Warriors. Trained under Tobias Harrow."
That got the clerk's attention. He looked up sharply, then gave them a closer examination, eyes narrowing as if reevaluating.
"Second-seal at sixteen's no joke," the clerk muttered, giving them both a second look. "Don't see that every year. Must've had a damn good teacher."
Mari nodded once, saying nothing more.
He scratched a note in the margin and handed them the forms. "Sign and mark your aura classification. Just place your hand on the testing crystal—there, to your right—and let your mana flow into it. It'll register your aura strength and verify your seal count automatically."
Kaelen felt a rush of excitement pulse through him as he dipped the quill. Then he turned to the pedestal beside the counter, where a smooth, glassy orb rested atop a silver stand. The crystal pulsed faintly with inner light, waiting.
He pressed his palm to its cool surface and focused. Slowly, his mana began to flow into the orb. The crystal flickered dimly at first, then flared into a deep red glow. It pulsed steadily, holding firm for several seconds before fading back to its resting state.
The clerk gave an impressed grunt. "Second-seal confirmed. Solid and stable. You weren't exaggerating."
Mari smirked as she signed her name, then moved confidently to the crystal. She placed her hand against it, eyes narrowing in focus. The glow surged immediately into a bright, unwavering red. It held longer than Kaelen's had, brighter too—full of force and confidence. The clerk gave a short whistle. "Another Second-seal. Her aura's fierce."
"Alright the two of you are officially adventurers now" Welcome to the Adventurer's Guild." He leaned forward slightly, tapping one ink-stained finger on the counter.
"Quick rundown. You'll start at E-rank because of your aura—most begin at F. The ranks go from F to S. F is basic tasks, E means you're capable enough for light danger, D is where real combat begins. C gets you into expedition work. B and A, you're either leading a team or fighting threats most people wouldn't touch. S-rank? That's legendary stuff. Whole kingdoms will want you then. Don't think about that yet though."
He pointed toward the largest board pinned with faded and curled papers. "That's the quest board. Your rank determines what jobs you can take. Pick one that matches your level or lower, then bring it back to me to register before you head out. We log everything."
He gave them both a flat look. "If you take something above your rank and come back in pieces—assuming you come back—I'll have to fill out the death paperwork, and I hate paperwork."
Mari gave a short laugh. Kaelen smiled faintly.
The clerk shrugged. "That's it. Welcome to the work."
Kaelen and Mari exchanged a quick glance, then turned toward the quest board. The parchment sheets fluttered slightly in the breeze from the open door, organized neatly beneath wooden plaques denoting rank: F, E, D, and a few scarce C-rank listings.
They browsed in silence, taking in the variety. Some postings were scribbled hastily, others well-inked and stamped with crests from merchants or village elders.
"Escort needed for merchant wagon to Rivershade — two days travel. D-Rank or higher." "Track and slay a large River Serpent harassing local fishers. Reports say it's wounded. C-Rank or higher." "Recover herbs from surrounding area." "Cleaning up the sewers. Reports of large rats." "Guard duty for festival night market. Must stay awake all night. Basic pay, food included." all three, F-Rank.
Mari tapped one with a grin. "Rat infestation. Want to spend our first week ankle-deep in filth?"
Kaelen gave a dry smile and kept reading. Then one notice caught his eye—a newer sheet, neatly pinned and clean.
"GOBLIN SIGHTINGS — Outskirts of Redbrush Woods. Small group reported near trade route. Immediate threat to local travelers. Hunters preferred. E-Rank and above only."
He pulled it down. "This one."
Mari looked it over and nodded. "Close to town. Goblins. Sounds like a real test, but more than manageable."
They returned to the counter.
"Goblins huh good pick for beginners, do be careful though, get over confidence you'll still die, aura or not. "The clerk glanced at the posting, then gave a noncommittal grunt before reaching for a metal stamp. With a sharp thunk, he pressed the seal into the corner of the parchment.
"Alright your registered. You're clear to go. Be back before dark or you'll miss dinner."
Kaelen looked down at the stamped quest notice, the reality of it beginning to settle in. A real job. Real danger. Real reward.
He tightened his grip on the parchment and nodded.
They were adventurers now.
The training was over.
Now, the journey began.