The guild swallowed me whole the moment I stepped inside.
Not with teeth.
With noise.
"Pup!!"
Barrek's voice hit me like a hammer, and then suddenly there were arms, bodies, faces—Trevor's stunned stare, Ruth's sharp eyes, Joren's quiet intensity. They crowded around me so fast I barely had time to breathe.
And then Vira was there.
Her eyes were red. Tears were already falling.
"Trey…" she choked, like my name hurt to say. "I thought— I thought I lost you—"
I didn't even get a chance to explain before she rushed forward and grabbed my sleeve with both hands like she was afraid I'd vanish forever.
Barrek leaned in too close, panicked and loud. "Where were you?! What happened to you, Pup?!"
Trevor's gaze flicked over my bandages, my sling, the bruises on my face—then down to the sweets box in my right hand like he couldn't decide which part was the most insane.
Ruth shoved Barrek's chest. "Back off! He's injured, you idiot!"
Barrek jolted back, horrified. "S-sorry!"
Joren didn't speak. He just stared at my clothes—at the fabric that didn't belong in this guild hall—and his eyes narrowed a fraction.
The noise kept coming in waves.
"Did someone jump you?"
"Who did that?"
"Why are you dressed like—"
"Is that… sweets?"
I opened my mouth to answer and realized I didn't know where to start.
My throat tightened.
My side throbbed.
My heart felt… heavy. Not painful. Just weighted, like a hook had been set behind my ribs.
"I—" I started.
Barrek leaned forward again. "Tell us, Pup."
I tried to pick the safest words. The simplest.
"I was taken—"
The moment the word formed in my mind, my chest flared hot.
Not my wound.
My heart.
A sharp warning sting, sudden enough that my breath caught and my vision pinched for an instant.
I jerked slightly and pressed my right hand to my chest on reflex.
Vira gasped. "Your wound—! Sit down! Sit down right now!"
"It's not—" I tried.
The sting faded quickly, but it left fear behind like smoke.
Barrek's face went pale. "He's gonna pass out—"
"I'm not," I said too fast, then winced because speaking too quickly pulled at my side.
Ruth grabbed my shoulder with surprising gentleness and guided me toward a bench like she'd decided I was no longer allowed to stand.
Joren stepped in front of the crowd, voice low. "Give him space."
For a moment, the guild listened.
That alone felt like a miracle.
Vira shoved a cup of water into my hand. Her fingers were shaking, but her voice was firm like she was trying to hold herself together by force. "Drink."
I drank.
The water tasted like the guild: plain, familiar, safe.
Vira wiped at her cheeks angrily. "You can't just disappear like that," she snapped through tears. "Do you know what you did to us? Do you know what you did to me?"
"I'm sorry," I said quickly, meaning it so hard it hurt. "I didn't want— I didn't—"
She looked like she wanted to yell more, but her gaze dropped to my bandages and her anger cracked into fear again.
She reached for the edge of the wrap around my side, then stopped herself, trembling. "Does it… hurt?"
"Yeah," I admitted. "But I'm okay."
Vira made a sound like she didn't believe the concept of "okay" anymore and kept wiping tears like they were an enemy.
Barrek hovered nearby, useless hands flapping, guilt written all over his face. "Pup… who did this? Say the name and I'll—"
Ruth elbowed him hard. "You'll what? Punch a noble mansion?"
Barrek deflated. "I can punch… very hard."
Trevor stared at my outfit again, like it offended him personally. "Where did you get those clothes?"
I looked down and only then realized how ridiculous I must look.
Bandaged.
Bruised.
Left arm in a sling.
Dressed like a noble kid.
Holding a sweets box like it was an award.
My cheeks warmed.
"They… gave it to me," I said, and the words sounded wrong the moment they left my mouth.
Ruth's eyes narrowed. "Who is 'they'?"
My heart didn't sting this time.
But it felt like it leaned forward, listening.
Trevor took a cautious step closer and peered at the fabric. "This isn't cheap."
Joren's gaze sharpened further. "That stitching is high-class."
Barrek squinted. "So you got adopted."
"I did not get adopted," I said quickly.
Vira sniffed hard, still crying, and smacked my shoulder lightly—careful of my injuries, but not gentle in spirit. "Stop being confusing!"
The sweets box shifted in my grip. The scent of chocolate drifted up, distracting my brain for half a heartbeat.
Barrek's eyes locked on it like a starving wolf. "Is that… dessert?"
Ruth snapped, "Don't you dare."
Barrek's shoulders hunched. "I wasn't going to take it. I was just… appreciating it."
Trevor frowned suspiciously. "That could be poisoned."
I clutched the box closer like it was my child. "It's not poisoned."
Joren's voice remained quiet, but it cut through the chaos. "How do you know?"
I opened my mouth.
Then remembered exactly where the box came from.
A flash of polished floors. A chocolate fountain. A contract burning into my heart.
My heart warmed with warning, not full sting yet, like the oath was reminding me it existed.
I swallowed hard and chose a safer route.
"Because," I said carefully, "I ate some already."
Barrek looked devastated. "You didn't share?"
"It was an emergency," I said.
"That's not a reason," Barrek whispered, as if betrayed.
Vira grabbed the box gently and set it on the bench beside me, then immediately glared at the crowd like a guard dog. "No one touches it. He can barely stand. He needs rest."
The word rest made my body ache with agreement.
Joren didn't let the conversation drift into comedy.
He leaned in slightly, voice low enough that it felt private even in a loud guild.
"Trey," he said. "Who did this to you?"
My stomach tightened.
Emelyn's warning flashed in my mind—Bevesville, Vonel, something that didn't add up.
And with it came a spark of doubt.
Doubt wasn't betrayal. Not yet.
But the moment the doubt formed clearly—What did I just swear myself into?—the oath reacted.
Heat stabbed over my heart.
Not the killing burn.
A warning sting, sharper than before, like a brand pressed from the inside.
I gasped quietly and pressed my palm against my chest again, jaw clenched.
Vira's eyes widened. "It's your wound again!"
"It's not my wound," I said through my teeth.
Joren's gaze changed.
He watched me like he was seeing something invisible.
"Trey," he said slowly, "you're being restricted."
The words made my skin prickle.
I forced my breathing steady, the way Ash drilled into me. In. Out. Don't panic. Don't let emotion steer movement.
"I can't talk about it," I said, voice rough. "Not here."
The silence that followed was heavier than any shouting.
Barrek's face hardened. "That means someone threatened you."
Trevor clenched his fists. "Or worse."
Ruth's eyes turned cold. "Whoever it is, they think they can—"
"Enough," a voice cut in from the side.
Nerissa had appeared.
I hadn't even noticed her approach. One moment there was crowd noise, the next the air around us straightened like it had been commanded.
Sharp. Assessing. Professional in a way that felt like a blade hidden behind a smile.
Her gaze took in everything in one sweep: my bandages, my sling, the bruises, the noble outfit, the sweets box, the cluster of adventurers around me, Vira's tear-streaked face.
Then she looked directly at me.
"Trey," she said, voice calm, "what happened?"
I tried to answer.
The oath's heat ticked in my chest like a warning bell.
My lips parted—and no words came that felt safe.
Nerissa watched me for half a heartbeat.
And then her expression shifted, subtle but immediate.
Understanding.
Not of details.
Of the shape of the problem.
She didn't press me again.
Instead, she turned her head slightly and spoke to someone behind the counter.
"Send word," she said. "Now."
The guild's noise had already begun to fade. People sensed it. The tension. The way Nerissa's tone wasn't casual anymore.
Even Barrek's party quieted.
Even Vira's sobs softened into trembling breaths.
Footsteps approached from deeper inside the guild.
Steady. Unhurried. Heavy enough that people moved aside without being told.
The guild master entered.
Theopard Erdallion.
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.
The room seemed to lower itself around him.
His eyes landed on me.
Then on my bandages.
Then on my noble clothing.
Then, briefly, on the sweets box like it was an absurd detail in a grim report.
His expression didn't change.
But I got the strange feeling—cold and sinking—that he already knew something.
Not everything.
But enough.
He looked at Nerissa.
His voice was calm.
Almost casual.
"I see," he said.
Then he added, quietly, "Nerissa. Bring him to my office now."
And the way he said it made my heart feel heavier than the oath ever could.