Brask had been an adventurer for eight years. Long enough to know which countries smiled when they saw the Guild badge and which ones spat. Long enough to know that in places like this, the badge was a target.
"You stay close to me," he told Kael as the party approached the border checkpoint. "And keep your voice down unless someone speaks to you first."
Kael nodded. They had heard the warnings before, but the tension in Brask's voice made it real.
---
The guards at the gate wore plain iron armor, but their expressions were harder than steel.
As the group approached, one of the guards barked, "Papers," with a tone that made it clear he was waiting for an excuse to find something wrong.
Brask handed over a folded sheaf of documents. The guard glanced through them, snorted when he saw the Guild seal, and looked up.
"Adventurers," he said like it was a curse. "You've got three days. Try to make it four, and you'll spend the rest of the year in the cells."
"We're just passing through," Brask said, his voice level.
The guard made a dismissive gesture. "See that you do."
---
Kael kept their head down as the party entered the city. The stares followed them like flies. Conversations dipped, not because people didn't know what was being said, but because everyone wanted the outsiders to hear the silence.
Even the innkeeper looked them over like they were vermin before grudgingly giving them a pair of rooms.
"You'll stay out of trouble," he said, setting the keys on the counter without touching them.
"We'll stay out of trouble," Brask replied.
---
The party that Kael had joined for this set of missions was made up of Brask, an older adventurer who had seen more of the continent than most, a soft-spoken mage named Elira, and a shield-bearer named Thom. They had met in the Guild annex two towns back, agreed to work together for three quests, and this was the second.
The next morning, they reported to the local Guild office—a single room with barred windows, tucked into a side street as if the city itself wanted to hide it.
The clerk behind the desk looked tired. "You're the new ones," she said. "Here's the contract. You can refuse it if you like."
"What is it?" Brask asked.
The clerk hesitated, then said, "Disappearances. Ten in the last month. No one will talk to us about it because we wear the badge. Maybe you'll have better luck."
---
They accepted.
Kael could feel the tension in every step as they walked back out into the main street. Elira pulled her hood up; Thom kept his shield on his arm even without drawing a weapon.
"Where do we start?" Kael asked quietly.
Brask's mouth tightened. "The only way anyone here will talk is if we make them see we're not the enemy. We do that by listening first."
---
It was slow work. People closed doors in their faces. Some threw small stones at them from alleys. But not everyone was silent.
A merchant finally stopped long enough to spit on the ground and say, "Go to the south end of town. Old tannery. That's where people vanish."
They thanked him and left before he could say more.
---
The tannery district stank of old hides and stagnant water. It was quieter than the rest of the city; even the stray dogs avoided it. The buildings leaned over narrow streets like they had been trying to escape and just didn't make it in time.
Kael followed Brask's lead, watching the shadows between the buildings. Their instincts from the last six months whispered that someone was watching.
---
They didn't have to wait long.
The first attack came from above—a body dropping from a roof with a knife drawn. Brask's blade met it in midair, knocking the strike wide.
Then the alleys came alive.
Six men, all in patched clothes and with hard, hungry eyes, rushed in from both sides. Kael ducked under a swing and felt their staff connect with a man's ribs. Elira chanted under her breath, a sharp burst of wind slamming another against a wall. Thom blocked the narrowest alleyway with his shield, taking two of them at once.
The fight wasn't clean. These weren't trained fighters—they were desperate. But desperate could be just as dangerous.
---
Kael moved without thinking, the last six months of fights turning into instinct. Step in, sweep low, pull back, keep moving. They didn't kill anyone—they didn't have to—but they left bruises and broken pride.
By the time the last man fell back, gasping and clutching his stomach, Brask stood with his blade ready.
"Talk," Brask said.
The man spat blood and laughed. "You think we're the ones taking people? You've got no idea."
"Then who is?" Brask asked.
The man smiled, a thin, bitter thing. "You want to see? Fine. Follow us to the river. We'll show you."
---
It wasn't a trap. Not in the way Brask expected.
At the riverbank, half-hidden by reeds and a sagging dock, they found a hole dug into the side of the embankment. A tunnel. And in the tunnel, cages.
People. Thin, frightened, chained.
---
Elira went pale. Thom swore.
Kael's hands clenched around their staff.
---
The stench inside the tunnel was enough to make Kael's stomach tighten. Damp earth, rusted iron, and the sour tang of fear.
Brask lowered his blade but didn't sheath it. "Keys," he said.
One of the captured men fumbled with a ring, hands shaking as he passed it forward. "We don't touch the cages. Not our job. We bring 'em here. Someone else takes 'em away."
"Who?" Brask demanded.
"Guy they call Hollow," the man said. "He runs the south end. You don't cross him."
Brask glanced at Elira, who was already kneeling beside one of the cages, whispering reassurance to the huddled forms inside.
Kael went to the locks. The keys were old and rusted, but they turned. Each door creaked like it hadn't been opened in weeks.
One by one, the captives emerged. Gaunt faces, eyes squinting against the daylight that seeped in through the tunnel mouth. They weren't just from this city. Kael recognized the signs—merchants, travelers, and more than one kid who couldn't have been older than ten.
---
"Come on," Brask said gently. "We'll get you out."
The first steps outside the tunnel were hesitant. Freedom felt like it might vanish if they moved too quickly.
Kael caught a boy as he stumbled, lifting him easily and carrying him toward the bank. "You're safe now," Kael said. The boy clung to their shoulder, silent but breathing fast.
---
They had just gotten everyone to the water's edge when the air shifted.
A whistle, high and thin.
Brask cursed. "Get ready."
Figures appeared at the far end of the bank. More than a dozen, dressed better than the first group, with harder eyes. At their center was a man whose presence made even the reeds seem to pull back.
Hollow.
---
"Well," Hollow said, voice calm and sharp as glass. "Seems my workers have been entertaining adventurers. Do you know what we do to adventurers here?"
Brask stepped forward. "You've been stealing people."
Hollow tilted his head. "This is business. You come into my city, you take my property—"
"They aren't property," Brask cut in.
Hollow smiled. It was a cold smile, one that didn't bother to reach his eyes. "Here, everything is property."
---
Kael shifted their grip on the staff, feeling the way the ground pressed back against their feet. The boy they'd been carrying was passed to Thom, who raised his shield.
Hollow gestured lazily, and his people spread out like a net.
Brask muttered under his breath, "Elira, wind. Kael, stick with me."
Kael nodded.
---
The fight exploded.
Wind ripped through the reeds as Elira's voice rose. Thom held the line like an anchor, every blow against his shield ringing like a drum. Kael ducked low, sweeping Hollow's men off their feet one by one, staff striking with a force that made them stay down.
Brask was a storm—efficient, relentless.
---
Hollow didn't move. He just watched.
And then, without warning, he stepped forward. Fast.
Brask barely caught the strike, their blades flashing in the thin light. The two locked, strength against strength. Hollow's speed was brutal; his blade flickered like a snake.
"You've got no right to be here," Hollow said through gritted teeth. "This city cleans itself. You Guild types—thinking you're saviors—you're just another disease."
"We're not leaving these people," Brask said, pushing back hard.
---
Kael swung at an opening, forcing Hollow to disengage for a moment. His gaze flicked to Kael then, and for a heartbeat, Kael saw it: not just hatred, but recognition.
"You," Hollow said, voice low. "You don't even look real."
Kael tightened their grip on the staff. They didn't reply.
---
The fight dragged on, but momentum shifted. Brask's experience, Thom's shield, Elira's magic—they wore Hollow's men down piece by piece. One by one, the gang began to retreat, some limping, some dragged.
At last, Hollow stepped back. His blade lowered, but his eyes never left Kael.
"You're lucky I don't care to bleed for this city," Hollow said. "Take them. But don't come back. If I see that Sapling badge here again, you won't leave with it."
Kael said nothing. The badge on their chest felt heavier, but they didn't touch it.
---
When Hollow and his people were gone, the silence was sudden and deep.
Brask exhaled. "Let's get these people to the Guild."
---
The walk back was slow. Every step was watched. When they reached the annex, the tired clerk looked at the rescued captives, then at Brask's party.
"You'll get no thanks here," she said quietly. "But I'll make sure word gets out to the Guild."
"That's all we need," Brask said.
---
That night, Kael sat on the floor of the inn, cleaning their staff. Their hands moved without thought, but their mind was loud.
This was what it meant to be an adventurer.
Not just monsters in the forest. People could be worse.
---
"Good work," Brask said finally from across the room. "You kept your head."
Kael looked up. "It wasn't enough."
"It was," Brask said. "This city's not going to change because of one fight. But those people are alive because you stood there."
---
The next morning, the party left as quietly as they came. No one thanked them. No one waved.
At the gate, the guard smirked. "Don't let the door hit you."
Kael glanced back at the city once. It was already turning away.
---
The road away from that city was rutted and dry, the kind of road that punished every step, but Kael didn't mind. Every mile put distance between them and the stares that clung like burrs.
They stopped only when the sky began to bleed into orange, setting camp by a crooked tree that looked like it had been struck by lightning years ago.
---
The rescued captives didn't talk much at first. They ate the bread Brask bought in silence, drinking the thin soup Elira managed to make over the campfire. But as the night deepened, the fear in their faces began to soften into something else.
A woman with sunburned cheeks finally spoke. "We thought no one would come. We prayed, but… in that city, prayers are like whispers into stone."
Brask gave a small nod. "You'll be home soon. The Guild will make sure of it."
---
When the others were asleep, Kael stayed up, turning a piece of wood over in their hands, shaping it with a small knife. The moonlight silvered their features, making their curse-born face seem even less real.
Brask watched for a moment before speaking. "You did well today."
Kael didn't look up. "It didn't feel like it."
"That's how you know you're not like them," Brask said. "You saw cages and wanted to do something. Hollow saw cages and saw coin."
Kael hesitated. "Why do they hate us so much here?"
"Because we're proof there's something stronger than them," Brask said. "Some people can't stand that."
---
Kael set down the knife, thinking about the way Hollow's eyes had locked on them, the words he'd said.
You don't even look real.
For the first time, Kael wondered if this curse was going to be more than a mystery. Maybe, one day, it would be a reason for someone to pick up a blade.
---
Two days later, they reached a safer town—a place where the Guild office had a proper hall, not a barred room. The clerk there took one look at the group walking in, the rescued captives trailing behind, and called for more help.
The rescued were fed, clothed, and given beds. For a moment, the whole hall paused to watch. Word traveled fast among Guild branches.
Someone whispered, "That's Brask's team. The ones who cleared the tannery."
Kael heard it but kept their focus on the captives, making sure the boy who had clung to them had food in his hands before stepping back.
---
When the clerk finally handed over the mission scroll stamped COMPLETE, Brask slid it into his bag. "This will go on your record, all of you."
"What about Hollow?" Kael asked.
"He'll slip through," Brask said. "People like him always do. But we cut into his trade. That's something."
---
The next morning, they parted ways. Thom and Elira were heading north. Brask planned to take a job further west.
"You sticking with us?" Brask asked.
Kael shook their head. "I need to see more. Different people."
Brask smiled faintly. "That's the right answer."
---
On the road alone, Kael kept thinking about the boy's grip on their shoulder, the lines of the cages, the way the city turned its face away.
The Guild badge on their chest still read Sapling, but for the first time, it didn't feel like just a piece of metal. It felt like something heavy. Something that meant they'd chosen to stand in places where people didn't want them to stand.
---
As Kael approached the next annex, a man waiting on the steps nodded toward them. "You're Kael, aren't you?"
Kael blinked. "Yes."
"Heard about you. Word spreads fast. Sapling from the south. Good instincts, good head in a fight."
Kael didn't know what to say to that. They just nodded once, quietly.
---
By the time they reached the inn that night, Kael understood something important: in countries that hated adventurers, their name wouldn't matter. But among the Guild, word traveled. And that word could open doors—or close them.
They took out their notebook, wrote down the lessons from the tannery, and underlined one word twice:
Listen.
---
The road forward was still long. But Kael could already feel the change. Every quest, every fight, every face—they were weaving a story around Kael, whether Kael wanted it or not.
And somewhere ahead, they knew, there would be another city like that one. Another Hollow.
And next time, maybe they'd be ready.
---
By the time Kael left that town, they carried more than just their staff and supplies. They carried the weight of knowing that not everyone in the world feared monsters. Some of them were happy to be monsters.