CHAPTER 46: CHAPTER 46: THE UNBOUND

They headed straight for the counter. The receptionist wasn’t the same one Arden had dealt with last time, but that didn’t matter. The man behind the desk had already spotted them and his face shifted the moment he recognized who they were.

Arden didn’t bother with pleasantries. "We’re here to register as a party," he said flatly.

The reply came just as he expected, sharp and dismissive. "There’s no place for dual affinity users in this kingdom. You can’t register here."

Rael’s hand twitched with anger, but before he could speak, Arden raised a hand, and Nyra gave him a small shake of her head.

The receptionist smirked at the restraint. "What’s the matter? Afraid to lose control in public? Might do everyone a favor if you did. Show them what you really are." His eyes swept from Rael to Nyra, lingering just long enough to make his insult clear. "You should’ve stayed in the Outlands, died there, instead of bringing trouble back to this city."

The air grew colder around the counter. The onlookers shifted uneasily, some murmuring to each other, waiting for the spark that would set things off.

Nyra stepped forward with a calm smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "I’m not the same person I was. If anyone thinks I’m a threat or that I’m unfit to wield my elements, they’re free to step forward and test it themselves."

Arden’s mouth curved slightly, she had said exactly what needed to be said. Turning back to the receptionist, he leaned forward just enough for his voice to carry. "Now. Are you going to document it?" His aura pressed out in a slow, heavy wave, no threat spoken, but the message clear.

The man’s bravado faltered, his hands trembling as he reached for the forms.

The receptionist’s hand trembled as he filled in their details, writing only the basics before reaching the party name.

"The Unbound," Arden said without hesitation.

It was a name they had all agreed on, a name for those cast aside, yet free to carve their own paths.

The man gave a short, derisive laugh, and a few onlookers made faces like they’d tasted something sour.

Arden didn’t bother explaining. The reaction was exactly what they wanted.

A few strokes of the pen later, it was official. Arden leaned on the counter just slightly. "Good boy," he muttered.

The man’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

Instead, he reminded them of the Guild policy, new parties had to pass an issued mission before being fully recognized. His smirk grew as he reached under the desk and pulled out a slip of parchment.

It was thick, stained at the edges, and carried the faint smell of old ink and dust. Bold lettering at the top read. Issuer, Boro’s Trading Group. Beneath it, the mission details were brief and deliberate, escort rare herb collectors into the second zone of the Outlands.

Collection sites- Beast-heavy areas.

Preview point- At Three Mugs Bar. Ask for Boro.

Arden didn’t miss the satisfaction in the man’s face. This was one of those "accidents waiting to happen" kind of jobs, the sort that even veteran parties avoided.

He took the parchment without hurry, scanning the lines before rolling it between his fingers. "We’ll take it."

They turned to leave, not asking a single question. The man wasn’t going to give them anything useful anyway.

By the time the door swung shut behind them, the onlookers had already started in.

"They’re just desperate to die."

"Won’t even make it out of the first day."

"Dual affinity users never learn, always end up causing troubles."

Arden didn’t slow.

Once they were clear of the crowd, he glanced at his party. "I should’ve asked before accepting it, but I’ve got a plan."

Rael raised an eyebrow. "You’re not even going to tell us what it is before we sign up to die?"

"You’re still here, aren’t you?" Arden shot back with a half-smile. "That’s all the permission I need."

Nyra folded her arms. "You’ll explain it anyway."

"Fine," he said, keeping his voice low as they walked. "We’re not treating this like an escort mission. The collectors are just our excuse to get into the second zone. Once there, we’ll be scouting routes, hunting and observing beast activity.

It’s information we’ll need later, and it’s worth more than the mission reward."

Zephyra’s voice came like a ripple in the mind, calm but edged. And the collectors?

"They’ll live. If they listen."

No one argued.

"First stop’s an inn," Arden continued. "We secure a place to stay, then head to the preview point."

They turned down the nearest street and headed for the first decent inn in sight, the mission parchment still in Arden’s hand.

The first inn by the corner, The Hearth’s Rest, looked decent enough, but the moment they stepped in, the attendant’s face tightened.

"Full," she said quickly, eyes darting to the others in the room.

Arden tilted his head slightly, studying her. He didn’t need to press, her fear was plain enough. She wasn’t protecting the rooms, she was protecting herself from the trouble of taking in people the kingdom had already cast out.

He gave her a faint smile, more out of habit than kindness. "Alright. We’ll find somewhere else."

And so they kept walking.

The second inn had the same answer, and the third... and the fourth. No matter how polite the words, the doors were closed to them.

By the time they’d circled halfway through Greyhold, their steps had slowed. Night was coming, and the streets were beginning to thin.

It was then that an elderly woman stopped in front of Nyra, her back bent with years but her eyes clear.

"You’ve been walking in circles for hours," she said. "Come with me."

Nyra glanced back at Arden.

He met her eyes, gave the smallest nod. She’s harmless. Just tired... and sad.

They followed without a word.

Her house was tucked into a narrow lane, small and plain, but lived in. The wooden chairs showed years of use, the shelves lined with trinkets that had no value except to her.

"I can’t offer much," she said, motioning them to sit at the table, "but you’ll have a roof tonight. And something warm to eat."

Arden’s lips curved into a faint smile. "That’s more than enough."

The woman busied herself in the small kitchen, the smell of boiling broth soon filling the room. It wasn’t much, but it was far more than anyone else in this city had been willing to give.

A/N:

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