Virael woke to the soft light of dawn filtering through her window, her body still faintly sore from the previous day's intensity.
She rose, shaking off the lingering haze, and dressed in her professional attire—a crisp black tunic with silver trim, snug leggings, and a lightweight cloak that draped over her shoulders, her spiraled horns glinting as she adjusted her glasses.
The guild hall awaited, and with it, her report.
Elaria lounged at her desk when Virael arrived, her head resting on one hand, a bored slump in her posture.
The moment she spotted Virael, her eyes sparked with interest, and she straightened up, a grin tugging at her lips.
"Well, well, how was yesterday?" she asked, her tone teasing but eager.
Virael stood before her, hands clasped behind her back, her expression as neutral as ever.
"It was fine," she said flatly.
"Package two—nine out of ten. It was intense as mentioned and stimulative."
Elaria's brow arched, her grin widening.
"Fine? It should've been much better than fine."
She reached for a folded paper on her desk, unfolding it with a flourish and sliding it toward Virael.
"Look at this."
Virael glanced down—Liora's looping, enthusiastic handwriting sprawled across the page.
The letter gushed about their shared experience at the Velvet Abyss, every detail vivid and unrestrained, ending with a note that she'd taken a holiday to recover from the soreness.
Elaria smirked, watching Virael's face for a reaction, but Virael remained silent, her lips a thin line.
She pushed the paper back and said, "I'm getting the third package today."
Elaria's hand shot up, stopping her mid-turn.
"Wait—didn't you promise to go with Liora for that?"
Virael paused, her gaze steady.
"I don't think she can handle it."
Elaria leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands, her eyes glinting with challenge.
"You're underestimating her, Virael. She's old enough to choose for herself."
Virael's jaw tightened briefly, then she nodded once.
"Fine. I'll take her. And I'm taking a holiday too."
She stepped toward the door, but Elaria's voice halted her again.
"Not so fast," Elaria said, pulling a scroll from a cluttered pile on her desk.
"There's an urgent request—small den on the outskirts. One package, slime play. Everyone sits in the same tub. Guild wants you to check if it's sanitary enough."
She held out the scroll, the wax seal gleaming faintly.
Virael took it, her fingers brushing the parchment as she scanned the address.
"Understood," she said, her tone clipped but professional.
She gave Elaria a curt nod—her version of goodbye—and turned on her heel, cloak swishing as she headed out.
The weight of the scroll settled in her hand, her mind already shifting gears.
The third package loomed, Liora's eager insistence tugging at her thoughts, but now this slime den demanded her attention first.
Duty called, as always, and Virael strode into the morning light, her calm mask firmly in place.