The guild swallowed us the moment we stepped inside—heat, voices, boots stomping stone like a drumbeat.
Barrek spotted us immediately. "Oho! The pup survived the weeds."
Mya flinched at his volume.
Barrek leaned forward, squinting. "You two get dirt under your nails?"
Mya held up her hands. "A little."
"Good," Barrek said like it was a medal. "Means you worked."
Another veteran called, "Any casualties?"
"Only my patience," Mya muttered under her breath.
I heard it and—almost—smiled.
Almost.
We went to the counter where Nerissa waited. She took one look at Orla's stamped slip and smiled. "Back already. How was Orla?"
Mya's voice stayed polite. "Stern."
Nerissa chuckled. "That's Orla."
I slid the slip across. My fingers brushed the paper like it might bite.
Nerissa read it, stamped it, and reached into a drawer.
She counted out coins onto the counter—small, dull iron that clinked softly, nothing like the heavy promise of silver.
"Fifty iron," Nerissa said. "Good job."
Mya's eyes widened at the pile.
I stared at the coins like they were a puzzle.
Nerissa held up a finger. "Before you get excited—fifty iron is half a copper. Enough for a bun, maybe two if the baker likes you."
My stomach dipped, then steadied.
Not much.
But it was ours.
"Split it," Nerissa said, sliding the coins forward.
Mya and I stared at each other.
I didn't move fast enough—my body liked freezing at the worst times.
"You take twenty-five," I blurted, because if I didn't speak first I might lock up completely.
Mya blinked. "We did it together."
"Yeah," I said. "So you take twenty-five."
Mya hesitated—then picked up one iron coin.
Just one.
She held it like it weighed more than it should, fingers curling around it fast, protective.
Then she slid the rest toward me.
My stomach twisted. "Mya—"
She shook her head quickly, not looking at my face. "My mother will give me money if I need it."
"That's not the point," I said, and it came out sharper than I meant.
Mya froze like I'd shouted.
I forced my voice down. "You worked too."
Mya's fingers tightened around the single coin. "I know."
"Then take—"
Mya finally glanced up—just for a second—then dropped her gaze back to my hands.
"I want… this," she whispered. "Just this one."
I stared at her fist.
"Why?"
Her throat bobbed. "Because."
Not an answer.
But it was the only one she was going to give.
Nerissa leaned in slightly, voice gentle. "First earnings feel bigger than they are, Trey."
I looked at the coins again.
They weren't silver. They weren't even copper.
But they were proof.
Proof I hadn't wasted ten silver on day one.
My fingers closed around the pile. "Fine," I muttered. "But you owe me… later."
Mya blinked. "Owe you what?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "Something."
Mya's mouth twitched like she was trying not to smile.
Nerissa stamped our completion sheet and handed it back. "Come back tomorrow if you want another errand. And Trey?"
I stiffened.
Nerissa's eyes were warm. "You did good."
My throat tightened. "Thanks."
From the benches, Barrek called, "He didn't faint!"
"Stop saying that," I muttered.
Barrek laughed like that was the best thing I'd ever said.
Outside, afternoon sun softened the stone streets and made everything look less like a battlefield and more like a place people lived.
Halfway home, I realized Mya kept touching the front of her shirt near her collar—like she was checking something that wasn't there.
I watched her hand do it again.
"You… okay?" I asked.
Mya jerked her hand away like she'd been caught stealing. "Yes."
"That was fast," I said before I could stop myself.
Her cheeks went red. "I— I was just—"
I waited.
She didn't finish.
My brain tried to interpret it, failed, and defaulted to the safest word.
"Okay."
Mya glanced at me like she wanted to hit me and laugh at the same time.
We walked in awkward quiet for a few steps.
Then she cleared her throat. "Trey?"
"Yeah?"
"If you do another errand tomorrow…" Her fingers twisted her satchel strap. "Can I… come too?"
My stomach did a small, stupid flip.
"Sure," I said. "If you want."
Mya's shoulders loosened like that answer had been heavy. "Okay."
We reached the corner where we split yesterday.
Mya slowed, pointing. "I'm… this way."
I stopped. The street suddenly felt wider without her beside me.
"Oh," I said, because apparently I only owned one goodbye word.
Mya's hands fidgeted. She didn't look at my face. She looked at my pocket—where the coins were.
"Don't… lose it," she said.
I blinked. "Lose what?"
"The coin," Mya said, voice tightening like it mattered more than it should. "It's… your first."
I stared at her clenched hands and realized she was holding hers too tight.
"I won't," I said.
Mya nodded quickly—then stopped herself like she remembered someone calling her out for nodding.
Her cheeks went even redder.
"I'll… see you," she said.
"See you," I echoed.
Mya turned and hurried off, almost tripping once, then catching herself.
I watched her go until she disappeared.
Then I started walking alone.
The street felt louder without someone beside me. My thoughts got too much room.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out an iron coin.
Dull. Scratched. Worth almost nothing.
I ran my thumb over the edge, feeling shallow dents.
Barrek's laugh echoed in my head.
Dain's sneer.
Orla's blunt acceptable.
Myrina's ten silver.
I hadn't wasted it today.
I put the coin back and kept walking, trying not to smile like an idiot.
When I reached our house, Myrina was waiting at the door like she'd been there forever. Her hair was messier now, dust clinging to her boots, and her posture had that loose exhaustion of someone who'd used up her luck for the day and come home anyway.
She saw me and grinned. "There he is."
I stopped on the step.
Myrina's eyes flicked over me—quick, practiced—checking for injuries. Then she relaxed.
"You're in one piece," she said.
"I told you," I muttered. "Errands don't bite."
Myrina laughed. "Look at you. Quoting me."
She opened the door and shoved me inside with her hand on my shoulder, steering me like she didn't want me lingering out where the world could grab me.
The house smelled like stew—real stew, not guild stew—and warm bread.
Myrina tossed her satchel onto a chair and flopped down like she'd been carrying the whole city on her back.
"So," she said, eyes bright. "First errand. What'd you do? Fight a broom? Wrestle a laundry basket?"
I hesitated, then pulled out the coins and let them clink softly into my palm.
Myrina's grin widened. "You got paid."
"Forty-nine iron," I said. "I… split with Mya."
Myrina's eyebrows lifted. "We?"
I froze.
Myrina's grin sharpened into something delighted. "Oh?"
I stared at her tapping fingers on the table. "Mya. From class."
Myrina made a pleased sound. "Good. Friends already."
"We're not—" I started, then stopped because I didn't even know what I was correcting.
Myrina laughed. "You're blushing."
"I'm not."
"You are."
I glared at the stew pot like it had betrayed me personally.
Myrina stood and ruffled my hair hard enough to mess it up completely. "Eat. Then tell me everything. Especially if anyone gave you trouble."
I hesitated. Dain. The veterans.
"They teased," I admitted.
Myrina's eyes narrowed. "Who?"
"Barrek," I said.
Myrina snorted. "Of course."
"He's…" I searched for the word. "Rude."
Myrina's grin returned. "He's a loud dog. Loud dogs bark, but they don't always bite."
"I told you people bite," I muttered.
Myrina pointed her spoon at me. "And you bit back, didn't you?"
I stared at the spoon. "A little."
Myrina laughed again, and this time it felt like the house itself warmed with it.
We ate at the small table, shoulders almost touching, trading small details. Myrina told me about her quest in careful pieces—just enough to satisfy me without dragging monsters into my dreams. I told her about Orla's garden, about how the herbs smelled, about how Mya didn't let me ruin anything, about how Orla called my work acceptable like it was a prize.
Myrina kept chuckling like every sentence was proof of something she'd wanted for a long time.
By the time the bowls were empty, my shoulders felt lighter than they had in weeks.
Myrina leaned back and sighed. "See? First little steps."
I opened my mouth to answer—
A knock slammed into the door.
Hard.
Fast.
Myrina's smile vanished like it had been cut away.
She stood so quickly her chair scraped the floor.
Another knock—urgent, almost panicked.
Myrina's hand went to the knife on the counter without thinking.
"Trey," she said low. "Stay back."
My stomach dropped.
She crossed the room and yanked the door open.
A boy stood there, panting, cheeks flushed from running. He wore a simple runner's sash with the guild crest stitched into it.
His eyes snapped to Myrina.
"C-rank Myrina Austere?" he gasped. "Nerissa sent me. It's urgent—"