The streets of Stormhaven were alive with the energy of the bustling city, even in the late evening. The salty tang of the sea mixed with the scents of grilled fish and spices from nearby food stalls. Lanterns hung from wrought iron posts, their flickering light casting long shadows on the cobblestones. Merchants packed up their stalls, sailors swapped tales of their voyages, and the occasional drunkard wobbled through the streets, adding to the symphony of city life.
Elara walked quietly beside Cedric, her thoughts lingering on their destination. The recruitment station for the Duke’s expedition loomed in her mind like a beacon—and a test. She was supposed to have reported there yesterday, but circumstances had conspired against her.
She glanced at Cedric, his expression stoic and watchful as always. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of gratitude, though she kept her voice steady. “I still can’t believe that stew was poisoned.”
Cedric’s lips twitched into a small, wry smile. “It wasn’t poisoned, Lady Elara. It was just bad meat. Likely left out in the sun for too long.”
Elara sighed, a hand brushing over her stomach instinctively. “It certainly felt like poison. I’ve never been so sick in my life. If not for you…” Her voice trailed off, but Cedric’s response was immediate.
“It’s my duty,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for debate. “You shouldn’t concern yourself with what’s already passed. You’re well now, and that’s what matters.”
“Well enough to walk all over Stormhaven,” she muttered under her breath, earning a chuckle from Cedric.
“Better to be cautious, Lady Elara. You don’t want to fall ill again before the expedition begins.”
She nodded, though her thoughts wandered back to the ordeal. She had been so excited to arrive in Stormhaven, ready to begin her final trial, only to be laid low by an unfortunate meal. It had been embarrassing, to say the least. If not for Cedric’s quick thinking and steady presence, she doubted she would have recovered so quickly.
Her attention returned to the present as they turned a corner, the sounds of the recruitment station reaching her ears before the building came into view. The unmistakable clang of weapons and the rumble of raised voices drifted through the air.
Ahead, the recruitment station was a large stone structure with banners bearing the crest of the Thaddeus Duchy—a sea serpent coiled around a trident. The open courtyard in front of the building was crowded with adventurers, mercenaries, and soldiers, all vying for attention. Torches burned brightly along the perimeter, casting a warm glow over the scene.
Cedric slowed his pace, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. “It seems we’re not the only ones interested in this expedition,” he remarked.
Elara pulled her hood tighter around her face, her nerves stirring once more. “Do you think we’re too late? That they’ve already filled the positions?”
“I doubt it,” Cedric replied, his tone steady. “The Duke would have closed the recruitment. Besides…” His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his sword. “We’re more than qualified. They’ll see that.”
Elara nodded, though the knot in her stomach tightened. This was it—the first step of her trial. She took a deep breath, pushing aside the lingering fatigue from her recent illness.
As they approached the gates of the station, a guard in polished armor stepped forward, his expression firm but professional. “State your names and purpose,” he barked, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword.
Elara took a steadying breath and stepped forward, pulling a small, weathered card from her pocket. She held it out to the guard, who squinted at the adventurer ID under the flickering torchlight. The card simply read Elara and bore her rank: D-Rank. The edges of the card were slightly frayed, evidence of frequent use.
Cedric stepped forward as well, presenting an identical card with the same rank and just his first name: Cedric. The guard inspected them both briefly before his gaze flicked back to Elara. His eyes narrowed as he noted the faint shimmer of her mana under her cloak.
“A mage?” he asked, his tone tinged with incredulity.
Elara nodded, clasping her hands lightly in front of her. “Yes. I specialize in frost magic.”
The guard’s expression shifted into something distinctly condescending. He handed the adventurer cards back to Cedric with a scoff and crossed his arms. “A D-Rank rogue mage?” he said, his voice loud enough to draw a few curious glances from nearby recruits. “Right. That’s a new one.”
Elara stiffened, her cheeks burning, but she kept her composure. “I assure you, I’m no imposter—”
“You’re wasting your breath,” the guard interrupted, shaking his head with a sneer. “Mages don’t crawl out of the dirt. If you were a real mage, you’d have a noble’s crest or a Mage Tower insignia. You don’t look like either. This isn’t a place for amateurs playing dress-up.”
Cedric’s jaw tightened his grip on his sword visibly tightening. “Watch your tongue,” he growled. “Lady Elara is more capable than most here.”
The guard raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “A loyal lapdog, eh? Listen, kid, this isn’t some backwater village. This is an expedition under the Thaddeus Duchy’s banner. Impersonating a mage here isn’t just foolish—it’s dangerous. You should’ve done a better job at your act.”
Experience tales at empire
Elara took a step forward, her head held high despite the insult. “I don’t need to prove anything to you,” she said, her voice steady.
“Oh, you don’t?” the guard retorted. “Then don’t be surprised when the captain tosses you out on your—”
Before he could finish, the air around Elara turned icy. A sharp chill swept over the courtyard, drawing startled gasps from nearby adventurers. The guard froze mid-sentence as shimmering frost began to coalesce in the air around Elara’s outstretched hand.
Within seconds, the frost condensed into a crystalline spear, its sharp edges glittering ominously in the torchlight. The spear hovered for a moment before hurtling forward, streaking through the air like a comet.
SWOOSH!
The frost spear grazed past the guard, so close that the icy chill left a faint sheen of frost on his cheek. It embedded itself into the wall behind him with a resounding CRACK, shattering into a spray of sparkling ice shards.
The guard staggered back, his eyes wide with shock as he touched his frozen cheek. “What the—!”
“I suggest,” Elara said, her voice cold and cutting, “that you think twice before accusing someone of impersonating a mage.”
The courtyard had gone silent, all eyes on her. Cedric stepped forward, placing a hand on Elara’s shoulder in a silent gesture of restraint, though the pride in his expression was unmistakable.
The guard’s face twisted briefly, a flash of indignation crossing his features, but it vanished almost as quickly as it had come. He straightened his posture, brushing a hand over his frost-slicked cheek and exhaling sharply. The courtyard was still silent, the tension thick in the air as every eye remained on him.
With a grudging nod, he lowered his gaze briefly toward Elara. “I stand corrected,” he said, his voice steady but lacking the condescension from earlier. “You’ve made your point, mage.”
Cedric’s eyes narrowed slightly, watching the guard’s movements with suspicion, but Elara remained composed, her frosty demeanor fading into a calm, quiet confidence. She didn’t gloat or press further, simply inclining her head slightly in acknowledgment.
The guard turned to Cedric next, his tone more measured now. “Both of you—follow me. I’ll take you to Captain Edran.”
Without waiting for a response, he pivoted sharply on his heel and began walking toward the building’s entrance. Elara and Cedric exchanged a glance before following, the silence around them breaking as the onlookers murmured and whispered among themselves.
“Arrogant bastard,” Cedric said under his breath, his expression still looking angry. He really wanted to show this guard his place, but since Elara didn’t mention anything he refrained from acting rashly.
As they approached the large double doors leading into the recruitment station, the guard’s pace remained brisk. His demeanor, though stiff, had shifted—there was no lingering arrogance, only a sense of professional duty as he escorted them.
Inside, the station was just as lively as the courtyard. Adventurers and mercenaries of all kinds bustled about, some standing in lines while others reviewed maps pinned to the walls. The scent of ink, parchment, and oil from nearby lanterns filled the air. At the far end of the room, a large desk was stationed where a man in polished armor sat, his presence commanding yet approachable.
The guard stopped a few paces from the desk, turning to address the two newcomers. “Captain Edran is ahead. Present yourselves directly to him.”
Elara nodded curtly. “Thank you.”
The guard hesitated for a moment, then inclined his head slightly toward her. “Good luck on the expedition. You’ll need it.”
With that, he stepped aside, his posture still tense but devoid of hostility. Cedric watched him for a moment before leading Elara toward the captain.