The door to the Adventurers' Guild burst open with a force that rattled the window frames. The crash sliced through the hall's usual cacophony. A man about to drink from his tankard froze mid-motion, foam an inch from his lips. A card game stopped cold, hands hovering over the table as if a paralysis spell had swept the room.
All eyes locked on the entrance.
Paul Greyrat entered first, a self-satisfied smirk carved onto his face. Hilda walked behind him, hot on his heels. They were covered in a layer of grime that dulled their clothes, stained with sweat and spattered with the dried blood of wolves. They looked like they had clawed their way out of hell, yet they moved with a vibrant energy, the synchronized grace of victorious hunters that silenced every last murmur.
At a nearby table, Borin, the burly adventurer who had mocked Hilda just hours before, shrank in his seat, trying to become invisible.
"By the gods, is that them?" whispered his companion, a skinny little man with frightened eyes.
"Shut your mouth, you idiot," Borin hissed, his gaze fixed on the pair. "That noblewoman will rip your tongue out if you look at her wrong. You saw her. She's got fire in her eyes."
Kaelen, the guild master, was waiting for them at the bar. He was polishing a tankard with a rag, a gesture of studied nonchalance. He set the tankard down on the wood with a dull thud and crossed his arms, his massive chest swelling. A grunt that almost sounded like approval rumbled in his throat.
"Well, well. So you're not just a pretty face after all," Kaelen said, his voice a contained thunder. His gaze shifted from Paul to Hilda, reassessing her, but this time with a tinge of respect. "I see the noblewoman survived. And you're not dead, Greyrat. Not bad for a first day."
"I told you she was tough," Paul replied. He stepped up to the bar and dropped a canvas sack onto the wood. It landed with a heavy, wet sound, and a faint smell of iron and damp fur filled the air.
Kaelen didn't even flinch. He untied the knot and emptied the contents onto a wooden tray. The precisely cut ears of the wolves formed a macabre pile. He counted them one by one, nodding to himself. Then, he pulled a leather pouch from under the bar, counted out copper and silver coins with surprisingly nimble fingers, and slid them across the polished wood. The jingle of metal seemed to break the spell that had held the rest of the hall in silence.
Paul took the leather pouch, feeling its weight. Under the watchful eyes of the entire guild, he emptied it onto the bar and, with a deliberate, public gesture, divided the coins exactly in half, pushing one of the piles toward Hilda.
"Partners," Paul said, his voice echoing in the now quieter hall. "A partner gets paid."
Hilda stared at the small mountain of filthy coins. They reflected the torchlight, and she could almost feel the grime and sweat of the hundreds of hands that had touched them before. It was the first money she had ever earned in her life. It wasn't a gift, an allowance, or a handout. She had earned it with her own effort, with fear clawing at her throat and the weight of a sword in her hands.
A genuine smile, the first one not tinged with irony, defiance, or seduction, lit up her face. It was a pure, tired, and proud smile. She gathered the coins, their tangible weight in her palm, and secured them in a small pouch on her belt. The gesture was firm, definitive. She wasn't just a lady anymore. She was an adventurer.
Once outside on the town's main street, the euphoria of victory began to fade, replaced by the grim reality of their condition. The afternoon sun was setting, painting the sky orange and purple above the rooftops. The air smelled of manure, freshly baked bread, and chimney smoke. Hilda stopped suddenly in the middle of the dirt road and wrinkled her nose in profound disgust.
"I can't, Paul. I'm not taking another step like this."
Paul turned, raising an eyebrow. "What is it now? Are you hurt?"
"I smell like wet dog and death. I can feel the grime stuck to my skin like a second layer. My sweat has dried, and now it itches. I have never felt so… sticky in my entire life. It's disgusting. I need a bath. Right now."
Paul let out a loud, sincere laugh.
"Welcome to the real world, my lady! This is what an honest day's work feels like. But don't worry. The tub at the inn is basically a barrel they used to use for pickles and the water will be lukewarm at best, but it'll do."
"No," she insisted, her noble tone, the one she used to command servants, returning with overwhelming force. "You don't understand. I don't want a barrel of murky water. I want to feel truly clean. I want to wash away not just the dirt, but the stress of the battle, the fear, everything."
He looked at her more closely. He saw the frustration in her gray eyes, an almost desperate need that went beyond the simple whim of an aristocrat. It was a longing to reclaim a part of herself, to feel her own skin again. His tone softened.
"Alright, alright, I get it. I know a place," he said, his voice growing more intimate. "A small lake in the forest, not far from here. Nobody ever goes. It's a hidden spot. The water is spring-fed, cold, and so clear you can count the pebbles on the bottom. It's… peaceful. It's not a tub; it's a sanctuary."
The idea intrigued and terrified her in equal measure. Bathing outdoors, exposed, under the open sky… it was unthinkable for a woman of her standing. But the promise of that crystal-clear water, of that natural sanctuary, was a balm too tempting for her tired soul and filthy body.
"Take me there," she said, her voice now a firm whisper.
The lake was a natural sanctuary hidden among ancient trees, just as Paul had described. As they arrived, Hilda breathed in the scent of damp earth and vegetation. She watched the light of the setting sun filter through the leaves, painting the water with golden and orange reflections, and listened to the gentle lapping of water against the pebbled shore.
Without a second's hesitation, she began to shed her tattered traveling dress. The fabric, stiff with mud and blood, fell to her feet with a whisper. Paul, in an almost instinctive gesture of courtesy, started to turn away toward the forest.
"Where are you going?" her voice, laced with teasing amusement, stopped him.
He froze, confused. "Pardon?"
"Getting shy all of a sudden, adventurer?" she asked, untying her last undergarments.
"Just giving you some privacy," he answered, feeling strangely clumsy.
Hilda laughed, a clear, free sound that seemed to be part of the landscape itself. "Paul, modesty is a formality we left behind in that inn room, between the sweaty sheets. Don't start with the chivalry now."
She turned to face him fully, naked and unashamed, and walked into the water. Paul held his breath. The evening light caressed her skin, giving it a golden hue. Her body was a work of art: wide hips, a narrow waist, and a flat stomach. The small patch of red hair, the same intense color as on her head, was a wild touch that contrasted with her innate elegance, hiding those pink lips he now knew so intimately. And her breasts—large, firm, and proud, their tips hardening in the cool breeze—seemed like an offering to the forest gods.
She entered the water with a sigh of pure pleasure as the spring's chill enveloped her. She submerged completely and emerged a moment later, shaking her head and sending a rainbow of droplets arcing around her. Her long, dark red hair, now wet, clung to her back and shoulders like strands of crimson silk.
Paul remained on the shore, captivated. It wasn't just desire he felt. It was something deeper, a kind of reverence. The woman he'd met in the tavern, the haughty noble, and the passionate beast he'd discovered in bed, all merged now into this vision, this water goddess.
"Gods, she's a vision," he thought, feeling raw, potent desire stir in his groin. He could no longer just watch. He stripped quickly and entered the water. The initial cold stole his breath but was quickly replaced by an invigorating sensation. He swam toward her slowly.
"Don't trust me to bathe by myself?" Hilda asked with a playful smile, rubbing her arms as she savored the feeling of the clean water.
"Just making sure you don't drown," he lied, his voice a bit deeper than usual. He stopped in front of her, the water up to their chests.
That's when he saw it.
At first, he thought it was a trick of the evening light, a strange reflection on the water's surface. But it wasn't. It was a subtle glow, an almost imperceptible aura the color of earthy brown, like rich soil after a rain, that emanated from Hilda's skin. He blinked, shook his head, but the vision persisted. The aura clung to her, moving with hypnotic slowness.
Fascinated, he reached out a hand, driven by a curiosity that surpassed his lust. He traced the aura's outline along her arm without actually touching her. Then, he let his fingers graze her damp skin.
A soft, sharp moan escaped Hilda's lips. Her eyes fluttered shut with pleasure.
"What… what are you doing?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
The sound of her pleasure emboldened him. The aura on her arm seemed to glow a little brighter where he touched it. His hand rose, leaving the water to find one of her breasts. He cupped it, feeling its familiar weight and softness. The aura's intensity seemed to focus and heighten around his hand, the brown color deepening, becoming more vibrant. He gently squeezed the erect nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it, playing with it.
"Ahh… Paul…"
His other hand slid beneath the water, gliding down her flat stomach until it reached the junction of her thighs. She shuddered violently, her legs parting instinctively as if her body was answering a call her mind didn't comprehend. He saw the current of light, now much more intense, swirling at that point, a vortex of terrestrial energy. His fingers slipped between her wet, silky folds. She was soft, hot, and utterly soaked. He slid one finger inside, then two, moving with deliberate slowness, watching the effect.
"Here…" he whispered, more to himself than to her, his eyes fixed on the glow only he could see. "The current is stronger here. It's almost solid."
Hilda didn't understand his words. She was lost in a sea of sensations she had never experienced before. She clung to his broad shoulders, her breath growing ragged and shallow.
"Paul… please… what are you doing to me?"
He didn't answer with words. He quickened the rhythm of his fingers, and the aura around her blazed brighter, pulsing in time with her moans. He saw her reach the edge, her eyes glassy, her mouth open in a silent scream. With one last push of his fingers, he sent her shattering. A choked cry escaped her throat, and her body contracted violently. Paul saw the aura explode in a nova of brown and golden light, and he felt the hot release of her pleasure against his hand, mixing with the cool water of the lake. She collapsed against him, breathless, trembling from head to toe.
They rested like that for a long time, holding each other in the water as the last sliver of sun vanished behind the trees. The passion subsided, giving way to a strange and profound wonder. Hilda's aura had returned to its subtle glow, a quiet radiance.
"Paul…" she finally whispered, her head resting on his shoulder, her voice hoarse. "What was that? What was that you were saying about… a current? Your gaze was strange, like you weren't looking at me."
He eased her back a little so he could look her in the eyes. His own arousal was now mixed with a deep, overwhelming confusion.
"I don't know," he admitted with brutal honesty. "I've never seen anything like it. It was… it was like I could see your strength, your soul. I swear I saw lights, an energy flowing across your skin. And I saw where it was coming from."
She looked at him, incredulous. "From where?"
"From the earth," he said, his voice filled with an almost religious awe. "Your affinity. It's not with fire, or wind, or water, like the mages I know. It's with the earth. The energy rose from the lakebed, up through your feet, and flowed through you."
Hilda pulled back a little more, her face a mask of disbelief and an old sadness he had never seen before.
"That's impossible. I'm not a mage. When I was a child, my tutors tested me. It was a grand ceremony; my whole family was there. They said my mana capacity was almost nil, that I had no talent for magic. That I was a disappointment in that regard. That I should focus on my duties as a noble: learning to embroider, manage servants, and be a pleasing wife."
The confession hit him like a punch to the gut. The coldness with which she told it revealed a deep wound.
"It made me so depressed," she continued, her voice a whisper barely audible over the murmur of the water. "I always wanted to be strong. Truly strong. Like the heroes in the stories I read in secret. Powerful. Not just an ornament."
Realizing the deep well of sadness she had just revealed, Paul pulled her into a fierce embrace, drawing her back against his naked body in the water in a protective gesture.
"Well, your tutors were idiots," he said with a ferocity that surprised her. "Blind idiots. I saw it, Hilda. I don't know how, but I saw it. The power is there. It's not like the mana of court mages; it's not some parlor trick. It's something more… primal. Wild. It's waiting for you to claim it."
She lifted her head and looked at him, her gray eyes shining with a fragile hope, one she didn't quite dare to feel.
"But… what if you're right? What if there is something, but I don't have the faintest idea how to use it? What do I do?"
"Then you'll learn," he said, his voice filled with an unshakeable conviction that seemed to infect her. "We lose nothing by trying. We're not taking any jobs tomorrow. We'll come back here. You'll stand on the shore and concentrate. You'll try to feel what I saw. You'll try to call on that energy. Anything is possible in this world, right? You just killed wolves. Who's to say you can't move mountains? I'll teach you. Or rather, we'll figure it out together."
She looked at him, and in that moment, in the crystal-clear waters of a secret lake, under a sky beginning to fill with stars, she saw much more than a lewd and shameless adventurer. She saw a promise. She saw a new path opening before her, one she had never dreamed existed. She saw someone who didn't just desire her body, but who believed in the strength of her soul.
And for the first time since she was a little girl, she dared to believe in it too.