The Blue Lantern Inn was quiet at this hour.

  Light spilled softly through the shutters of Eis’s rented room, gilding the wooden floorboards and warming the cool air. She sat up slowly, aware of something unusual — a rare steadiness beneath her ribs, the unmistakable weight of a good night’s sleep.

  Not the restless half-dozing she’d grown used to since arriving in Lumaire.

  Real sleep. Deep enough for her mind to settle, dreamless and complete.

  She washed, refitted her armor, adjusted her cloak, and stepped into the morning sun.

  The streets were waking: merchants raising stalls, carts clattering, river gulls calling from the canal walls. Lumaire felt almost peaceful in daylight — a strange contrast to the night before.

  Eis walked toward the slums, there was a place she needed to visit before heading to the guild.

  When the street ahead finally emptied, Eis slowed.

  She stopped beneath an unlit stretch of stone, listening once to be sure no one lingered nearby. Satisfied, she closed her eyes and focused—not on excess, not on possibility, but on something precise.

  A small pouch.

  Sturdy leather.

  Thirty gold coins.

  Warmth gathered beneath her sternum—brief, contained—then eased. The air near her hand tightened for a heartbeat before weight settled into her palm.

  The pouch was there.

  Eis tied it shut and continued on, steps unhurried, heading toward a place she’d intended to return to since the night she’d left it behind.

  Serah’s house.

  The city thinned as she walked. Stone gave way to cracked masonry. Lanterns grew sparse. The sounds of commerce and laughter faded, replaced by the quiet persistence of places Lumaire preferred not to look at too closely.

  She recognized the building before she reached it.

  Eis knocked lightly.

  The door opened a narrow crack. Serah’s face appeared, eyes sharp with surprise.

  “You actually came back.”

  “Yes,” Eis said. “May I come in?”

  The door widened just enough for her to slip through. It closed again with a soft click behind her.

  Inside, nothing had changed.

  Eis stopped by the table.

  “Thank you for your help the other night,” she said. “I couldn’t return the cloak as it was. I hope this makes up for it.”

  She set the pouch on the table.

  Serah sat slowly and opened it.

  She froze.

  “This…” Her voice caught. “This is far too much. Do you know what someone could do with this kind of money?”

  “Yes.”

  “I could leave,” Serah said quietly. “Start over. Anywhere.”

  “I hope you do,” Eis replied.

  Serah closed the pouch with careful hands. After a moment, she gestured toward a chest near the wall.

  “Your blades are still there.”

  Eis bowed once and crossed the room, lifting the lid and retrieving her twin swords. The familiar weight settled against her hip as she secured them.

  At the door, Serah spoke again.

  “Wherever you’re going,” she said, “I hope life treats you better than this place does.”

  Eis paused, then inclined her head.

  “You too. May life treat you well.”

  She stepped back into the street and turned toward the guild, the city unfolding ahead of her—uneven, complicated, and waiting.

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  Team Argent was waiting near the front gate when she arrived.

  Ronan noticed her first.

  “You’re awake earlier than I expected.”

  Kael leaned his back casually against the stone archway, bow at his shoulder.

  “You look rested. That’s… new.”

  Lira folded her arms, smiling.

  “We were going to drag you out of the inn if you took any longer.”

  Eis lifted a brow. “I was on time.”

  “That’s what worries me,” Kael said under his breath.

  Ronan gestured toward the inner hall.

  “Let’s check on Arin.”

  Eis nodded once and followed.

  The infirmary was busy with morning routine — healers moving between cots, light filtering through pale curtains, the faint scent of herbs lingering in the air.

  Arin sat upright when Team Argent entered, dressed in travel garments, hair freshly washed. She still looked tired, but her eyes were clear, her posture steady.

  When she saw Eis, her expression gentled.

  “You came.”

  Lira stepped forward with a reassuring nod.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “The healers say I’m strong enough to travel,” Arin said, smoothing the blanket across her lap. “They… they sent word to my hometown. My family is already on the road to meet me.”

  A nearby healer nodded.

  “We’ll escort her to the south caravan route within the hour. She’ll be safe.”

  Kael crossed his arms.

  “Good. After everything she went through, she deserves a quiet walk home.”

  Arin turned to Eis again, voice softer.

  “I don’t know how to thank you. Any of you.”

  Kael jerked a thumb at Eis.

  “She’s the one who ripped apart half the undercity for you.”

  Lira added, “Twice.”

  Eis didn’t shift.

  “You needed help.”

  Arin swallowed once, emotion tightening her voice.

  “You came back for me. When I was sure… when I thought you wouldn’t.”

  “And I would again.” Eis replied.

  It was enough.

  A pair of Guild escorts arrived to take Arin to the carriage court. She paused at the doorway, offering Team Argent one last grateful bow.

  “Thank you. All of you.”

  And then she was gone, carried toward safety and quiet roads far from the Shallows.

  The room felt lighter when the door closed.

  Ronan exhaled. “That’s one good thing today.”

  “Feels like more than one,” Lira said softly.

  Eis didn’t comment — but something in her shoulders loosened.

  Ronan stretched once and nodded toward the doors.

  “Let’s get out of here for a bit. Somewhere quiet.”

  They walked several blocks to a small restaurant perched beside an upper canal — The Riverstone Hearth. It was warm inside, lanterns reflecting off lacquered wooden beams, the smell of grilled fish and spiced broth drifting through the room.

  A server led them to a table near the window overlooking the water.

  Kael sank into his seat with dramatic relief.

  “Finally. Food that doesn’t taste like Guild rations.”

  Lira nudged him. “Maybe chew before you celebrate.”

  “You can’t rush excellence.”

  Ronan smirked faintly. “He means himself.”

  Eis took her seat quietly. The warmth of the room, the low murmur of conversation, the soft clink of dishes — it all felt unusually… grounded. Familiar in a way she hadn’t expected.

  Their interactions flowed easily:

  Kael complaining about a trainee who couldn’t tell a bowstring from a bootlace.

  Lira teasing Ronan about the way he sharpened his blades like he was preparing to lecture them.

  Ronan giving Kael a hard stare when he tried to steal a dumpling from Lira’s bowl.

  And every so often, a look passed between one of them and Eis — not questioning, not unsure — simply there, steady, accepting.

  Halfway through the meal, Ronan leaned back slightly, studying Eis over the rim of his cup.

  “You fought well last night,” he said quietly. “Better than most professionals I’ve seen.”

  Kael nodded.

  “Yeah. You’re terrifying.”

  Lira raised her glass.

  “And we like that about you.”

  Eis blinked. “…Thank you.”

  Ronan’s voice softened.

  “We trust you. Just make sure you trust us back.”

  Eis met his gaze.

  “I do.”

  It was simple.

  But for this group — it meant everything.

  When the dishes were cleared and the candle burned low, Ronan stood, adjusting his coat.

  “Alright,” he said. “We should head back.”

  Lira finished the last of her tea and stretched.

  “The Archmage Division is expecting a debrief.”

  Kael slung his bow over his shoulder.

  “And I’d rather not keep a room full of mages waiting. They get cranky.”

  Eis rose, cloak rustling softly.

  Ronan nodded once.

  “Let’s go. The sooner you talk to the Archmages, the sooner we know what we’re dealing with.”

  Together, Team Argent stepped out into the brightening day — toward the Guild Hall, toward the debrief, and toward whatever the relic and Vauren’s network would reveal next.