After Returning from his Cat Quest....
Sai Ji stared at the beginner quest board, a monument to mundane desperation.
It was a tapestry of humble sorrows:
'Collect 10 Glimmercap Mushrooms (Not the poisonous ones).'
'Escort Farmer Jeb's prize-winning cow, Bessie, 200 meters to the new pasture. Bessie bites.'
'Scare away the territorial goose from the south gate. Goose is armed and morally flexible.'
'Deliver a letter to Old Man Garrow. He is deaf and suspicious of messengers.'
Sai Ji's shoulders slumped. "It's a list of chores for people who've misplaced their dignity."
Nyx, reading with the solemnity of a scholar deciphering ancient prophecy, intoned: "'Pick up 15 Suitable Twigs for Kindling.' Reward: one copper coin."
Aeliana squinted at another. "'Assist in cleaning the Merchant's Quarter fountain. Reward: The satisfaction of a cleaner city.'"
"I just want something simple!" Sai Ji lamented, his forehead gently thumping against the worn wood of the board. "One task! A single, linear objective with a clear end point and no cosmic implications!"
Midnight Wolf materialized from behind a nearby pillar, quivering with excitement. "Bro! I got it! The perfect F-rank initiation rite!" He stabbed a finger at a slip written in a looping, grandmotherly script.
F-Rank Quest:
Retrieve Mama Mooloo's Runaway Frosthorn Calf, 'Buttercup.'
Last seen heading toward the Spirit Woods.
Reward:3 Copper Coins & Unlimited Hugs (Optional, but Recommended).
Sai Ji blinked. "Unlimited… hugs?"
Midnight Wolf nodded with the gravity of a strategist revealing a war-winning maneuver. "Bro. Mama Mooloo is a legend. She's a Minotaur-blooded cow-herder. Those hugs? They've cured plagues. Mended broken hearts. Literally realigned a dwarf's spine once. That's S-tier supplemental healing right there."
Nyx's lips twitched in the ghost of a smile. "The Master does seem to respond positively to physical affirmations of safety."
Aeliana folded her arms, a faint, protective scowl on her face. "He receives a sufficient amount from his party."
"NOT ENOUGH FOR A SOVEREIGN'S EMOTIONAL SUPPORT NEEDS!" Midnight Wolf declared, sweeping an arm dramatically. It was unclear where he'd gotten this psychiatric diagnosis.
Sai Ji sighed, the sound drawn from the depths of his soul. "Fine. We find a baby cow. It's a baby. How hard can it be? We walk into the woods, we find it, we bring it back. A zero-stakes, pastoral interlude."
Nyx's eyebrow performed a minute, eloquent twitch. "Master, it is considered… unwise to tempt narrative causality with statements like 'how hard can it be'."
Before Sai Ji could retort, a panicked voice screeched from the guild entrance, cutting through the ambient noise like a saw.
"HELP! SOMEONE! THE CALF—BUTTERCUP—SHE RAN PAST THE WARD STONES! SHE'S IN THE SPIRIT WOODS PROPER!"
A collective groan rippled through the F-rank adventurers lounging nearby. One buried his face in his hands. "Not the Woods. Not the Mooloo contract. Gods have mercy."
The simple pastoral interlude evaporated. The air in the guild hall seemed to grow colder.
Sai Ji looked from the terrified messenger to the quest slip in his hand. "Oh," he said quietly. "No."
Midnight Wolf pumped his fist, his fear completely overridden by narrative anticipation. "OH YES! This is why I follow you, bro! You don't find plot. Plot smells your protagonist energy and migrates to you!"
---
The Spirit Woods
The woods just outside Frostfall weren't merely forest. They were a place where the veil between the material and the magical wore thin. The air hummed, not with insects, but with ambient mana. Light didn't just filter through the leaves; it pooled in glowing puddles on the moss, and motes of energy drifted like lazy fireflies. The trees themselves had a watchful, ancient quality.
Sai Ji clutched the quest paper, its mundane script now feeling like a warrant for entry into a fey realm. "It's still just a calf," he muttered, a mantra for his own sanity. "A baby. A small, fuzzy, four-legged creature that presumably goes 'moo'."
"A Frosthorn calf," Nyx corrected gently, his eyes scanning the treeline. "A magical breed known for two traits: profound cuteness, and, when startled, bursts of speed that temporarily ignore friction."
"What does that—" Sai Ji began.
Aeliana pointed. A streak of pure white, trailing glittering ice crystals, shot across a clearing fifty yards away and vanished into the thicker brush. It moved less like a running animal and more like a bolt of animated snow.
Sai Ji watched the after-image fade. "…Why does it run like it's being pursued by the concept of captivity?"
Midnight Wolf, vibrating with glee, whispered, "Because Old Man Hemlock, the local god of stubborn livestock, adores that specific bloodline! He blesses them with 'divine skittishness'!"
Sai Ji turned his head slowly. "Why. Why would a god invest divine power into making a cow… annoying?"
Nyx, ever pragmatic, offered: "Theological boredom?"
Aeliana added, "Or perhaps the calf is the unwitting recipient of a soul transference from a particularly agile ancient hero."
"PLEASE," Sai Ji begged, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Do not give the magical cow a tragic isekai backstory. My suspension of disbelief is fragile enough."
Their search became a farce of frantic spotting and futile chases. Buttercup wasn't just fast. She was a genius of evasion. She would pause, looking heartbreakingly docile, her big blue eyes wide. The moment anyone took a step, she'd blur, kicking up a spray of snow and leaves, often ricocheting off a tree trunk to change direction mid-stride. Once, she bounced off a boulder, performed a neat, airborne twist that defied ungulate biology, kicked a surprised spirit-wolf in the snout, and vanished into a thicket with a triumphant moo-oomph.
Aeliana stared after her, aghast. "…It understands tactical positioning."
Sai Ji sank to his knees in the snow. "IT KNOWS PARKOUR! THE COW KNOWS PARKOUR!"
"You are displaying admirable perseverance, my King," Sal Vera cooed.
"I AM DISPLAYING PROFOUND REGRET!" he shot back. "I HAVE ACHIEVED NOTHING!"
"A compelling start to any heroic journey."
Just as Sai Ji pushed himself up, determined to at least look like he was trying, the air changed.
The playful hum of the woods died. The glowing motes winked out. A pocket of profound silence enveloped them, broken only by the crunch of Sai Ji's boot in the snow.
Swish-THUNK.
A dagger, black as a starless night and etched with silencing runes, buried itself in the ancient oak tree precisely where Sai Ji's head had been a half-second before. It vibrated with a malignant thrum.
Nyx was a shadow that solidified in front of Sai Ji. Aeliana's sword whispered from its sheath, the soft sound lethally loud in the quiet. Their movements were not panicked, but coldly efficient, their casual disguises sloughing away to reveal the deadly professionals beneath.
From between two gnarled willows, a figure stepped into a sliver of light. They wore a cloak of woven shadows that drank the light, and their face was a smooth, bone-white mask devoid of features save for two narrow eye-slits. An aura of cold, professional killing intent settled over the clearing, as tangible as the frost.
Sai Ji's heart hammered against his ribs. This wasn't a jealous adventurer or a confused beast. This was the real thing. He held up a placating hand, his voice strained. "Hey, listen… if this is about the cow, we can negotiate? We're not even having much luck—"
The masked figure spoke. The voice was genderless, filtered, and carried the absolute zero of the void. "Target identified: Sai Ji. Presumed heir, Silverfall Exile Line. Contract: Termination. No negotiation."
Sai Ji's mind went blank. "The what line? I'm not—I don't have an exile! I have a beginner's bag with a moldy apple!"
Nyx didn't take his eyes off the assassin. "A case of mistaken identity, fueled by your… conspicuous presentation."
"Again," Aeliana sighed, the word heavy with experience.
Midnight Wolf, from behind a tree, stage-whispered, "Bro, your pretty privilege just came with a death clause!"
The assassin moved. It wasn't a lunge; it was a disappearance and reappearance, closing half the distance in a blink, a second dagger already in hand.
Nyx flowed forward to meet the threat, his own blades appearing as if from nowhere.
In that moment of terrifying focus, Sai Ji's boot slipped on an ice patch hidden under the snow. He flailed, grabbed wildly for support—his hand closed on a low-hanging, dead branch.
The branch, rotten at the core, snapped with a loud crack.
The detached piece of wood tumbled through the air in a slow, stupid arc. It bounced once off the frozen ground, sailed past a bewildered Nyx, and smacked the frolicking Buttercup directly on her fuzzy rump as she chose that exact moment to zip through the battlefield.
The calf let out an indignant MROO! and, in a reflexive burst of her divinely-blessed speed, bolted sideways—a white cannonball of offended livestock.
She connected perfectly with the assassin's legs.
There was a sound like a sack of wet flour hitting a wall. The assassin, utterly unprepared for a tactical bovine intervention, was upended. They spun through the air in a comedic pinwheel of limbs and dark cloak before crashing headfirst into the very tree their dagger was embedded in. The mask made a solid tok sound against the bark. They slid down to the roots and lay very, very still.
Buttercup, her momentum spent, skidded to a stop, shook her head, and then trotted over to Sai Ji. She nudged his hand with her cold, wet nose, as if to say, 'See? I helped.'
The clearing was silent. The gentle hum of the Spirit Woods cautiously returned.
Sai Ji stared at the unconscious assassin. He looked at the piece of broken branch in his hand. He looked at the innocent-looking calf.
"Did I…" he began, his voice small. "Did I just… win?"
Nyx slowly sheathed his blades, his expression unreadable. "By the most technically accurate definition of causality, yes."
Aeliana knelt by the assassin, checking for a pulse. "Alive. Concussed, but alive." She looked up at Sai Ji, a strange mixture of pride and profound worry in her eyes. "The calf was the projectile. You were the… improbable aiming mechanism."
Midnight Wolf erupted from behind his tree. "BRO! THAT WAS A CRITICAL SUCCESS ON THE LUCK STAT! YOU WEAPONIZED A COW! YOU'RE A NATURAL!"
"A elegant, if unorthodox, application of environmental mastery, my King," Sal Vera murmured, her mental voice rich with amusement. "The bards will struggle to compose this one."
Buttercup, deciding the excitement was over, placidly allowed Nyx to loop a length of their spare twine around her neck as a makeshift lead. She followed them out of the woods with the demeanor of a queen granting her escort a great honor.
Mama Mooloo was indeed a massive, minotaur-descended woman with horns polished to a shine and arms thick enough to crush stone. When she saw Buttercup, she let out a roar of joy that shook the rafters of her sturdy barn. She swept Sai Ji into a hug that compressed his lungs and made his spine emit a series of concerning pops.
"MY BABY! MY SWEET, BRAVE ADVENTURER! YOU BROUGHT HER HOME!" Her voice was a earthquake of gratitude.
Sai Ji, face smooshed against her leather apron, managed a weak, "Ghlad… to… hhelph…"
She released him, leaving him swaying, and pressed three warm copper coins into his palm. Then, with a wink, she added two more from her own pocket. "For the trouble. And the hug."
As they stumbled back toward Frostfall, Nyx brushed frost from his shoulder. "That was… an educational experience in humility."
Aeliana, supporting a slightly hunched Sai Ji, smiled a true, warm smile. "He completed his first quest. However it happened."
Midnight Wolf was practically dancing. "Best! Quest! Ever! We got paid, we got a story, and we witnessed a bovine beatdown! This is core memory material!"
---
The Guild Hall – Next Morning
Sai Ji had hoped for obscurity. He received mythology.
He stepped out of the guild's modest inn the next morning, the three (five) copper coins a comforting weight in his pocket. The cold air was bracing, the smell of baking bread from a nearby stall promising normalcy.
His hope lasted approximately four seconds.
"THERE! IT'S HIM!"
A dwarven adventurer Sai Ji vaguely recognized from the previous day's crowd was pointing a stubby finger at him as if identifying a rare bird.
"The Pretty Calamity! The one who pacified the Frosthorn!"
Another, a human archer, leaned in, eyes wide. "I heard he didn't catch the calf. He negotiated with it. Used some ancient beast-tongue!"
"Nah," a grizzled sellsword countered, taking a slurp of stew. "My source says he challenged it to a race, won, and earned its respect. The assassin was just collateral."
Sai Ji stood frozen, a slow blush of horror creeping up his neck. "I… I just tripped. The cow hit him."
His words were swallowed by the burgeoning legend.
"See? Humble!" the dwarf declared. "Classic hero trait!"
"He's obviously a cursed prince in disguise," a woman murmured, studying his face. "That bone structure doesn't come from peasant stock. It's from… tragic, beautiful royalty."
"Or a fallen angel doing penance!"
"A demon learning empathy!"
"A protagonist!"
Sai Ji clapped his hands over his ears. "I AM A PERSON! A NORMAL, QUEST-DOING PERSON!"
Nyx, materializing beside him with a cup of steaming cider, took a serene sip. "A futile endeavor, Master. Your existence is a narrative event. They are merely the audience trying to decipher the genre."
Aeliana nodded, her mouth a grim line. "The rumor mill is a more potent foe than any assassin. It cannot be parried."
"Your legend takes its first, toddling steps," Sal Vera mused, delighted. "How precious."
"IT'S MALICIOUS SLANDER!"
The guild doors opened, and the chatter inside died a sudden death. Two of the city's peacekeepers, their armor stamped with Frostfall's crest, escorted a familiar figure inside: the masked assassin, now without weapons and moving with a stiff, bruised dignity.
All eyes turned to Sai Ji.
The assassin—Shade Ravenveil—stopped before him. The blank mask tilted. Then, to everyone's astonishment, they performed a deep, formal bow.
"You…" The filtered voice was softer now, laced with something like awe. "…are even more radiant in the calm light of day. The stories of your beauty… did not do you justice."
Sai Ji took a step back, hitting the wall. "No. No, we are not doing this. You tried to kill me."
"A regrettable error!" Shade proclaimed, straightening. "I am Shade, of the Obsidian Court. I was tasked with ending the Silverfall heir, a tyrant in waiting." The mask seemed to gaze upon Sai Ji with newfound reverence. "But you… you are no tyrant. You are… gentleness incarnate. The way you utilized the innocent creature to disarm me… it was not cruelty. It was poetry. A rejection of violence itself!"
Sai Ji's jaw hung open. "I slipped. On ice. The cow was an accident."
Shade let out a sigh that sounded like wind through a crypt. "Such humility. Truly, the mark of the lost Silverfall line—noble, tragic, forever misunderstood."
Nyx leaned toward Aeliana. "The delusion is self-sustaining. It is impressively robust."
Aeliana pinched the bridge of her nose. "He's going to adopt us, isn't he?"
Midnight Wolf was scribbling notes furiously on a piece of parchment. "This is gold. Pure, character-developing gold."
Sai Ji, feeling the walls of yet another preposterous identity closing in, did the only thing he could think of. He marched with single-minded fury to the quest board. He scanned it, not for glory or coin, but for the absolute, unequivocal antithesis of drama.
His finger stabbed a slip.
"This one," he announced, his voice ringing with finality. "Deliver one sack of Frostfall Reds to Bramblewood Farm, outskirts. That's it. No magic. No monsters. No lineage. No talking animals. We pick up potatoes. We walk. We put them down. We get paid. A flawless, boring, perfect transaction."
Aeliana took the slip. "It's a three-hour walk along a patrolled road. Peaceful."
Nyx gave a curt nod. "Zero anticipated variables."
Midnight Wolf pumped his fist, though with less vigor. "A… chill vibe quest. Okay. We can do chill."
"Yes," Sai Ji said, the word a vow. "Chill. Normal. Boring."
---
Bramblewood Farm
The farm lay in a quiet valley at the foot of the soaring Frostpeak Mountains. It was postcard-perfect: a neat stone house, a red barn, fields sleeping under a blanket of snow. The air was still, the only sound the crunch of their boots and the distant cry of a hawk. Sai Ji heaved the sack of potatoes from his shoulder with a grunt of profound satisfaction.
"See?" he said, a real, unburdened smile on his face. He gestured at the serene landscape. "Calm. Normal. Beautiful. Nothing—"
The world trembled.
It wasn't a sound first, but a deep, subsonic vibration that rose up through the soles of their boots and into their bones. The snow on the pine branches shivered off in silent cascades.
A second later, the sound arrived. A deep, grinding roar that didn't echo, but swelled, rolling down from the high peaks. It was the sound of stone tearing, of ice calving in monumental sheets, of something very large and very old being disturbed.
Sai Ji's smile didn't fade; it froze, a brittle rictus of hope being murdered by reality.
"That…" he whispered. "…wasn't thunder."
Nyx's eyes were locked on the mist-wreathed peak. His body was preternaturally still. "No. That was a territorial proclamation."
Aeliana's hand rested on her sword hilt, not drawing it, but ready. "From something that doesn't consider the mountain itself to be sufficient territory."
The ground shook again, a sustained tremor this time. A plume of snow and rock dust billowed from a high col, painting a dark scar against the grey sky. From within the settling cloud, a shadow moved. Vast. Winged. It descended through the veils of mist not with the frantic flap of a bird, but with the slow, inevitable grace of a falling cliff.
Midnight Wolf's finger rose, trembling, to point at the growing silhouette. His voice was a dry rasp, all his earlier exuberance vaporized by primal fear. "Bro… that shadow… it's not bird-shaped…"
Sai Ji stared. The peaceful farm, the sack of potatoes at his feet, the three copper coins in his pocket—they all seemed to recede into a distant, foolish dream. The immense, ancient reality of Aetheria, the kind that had Sovereigns and Thrones and beasts that shook mountains, was announcing its presence.
"Because Destiny has an impeccable sense of timing," Sal Vera whispered, her voice soft, without a trace of mockery now.
Sai Ji didn't scream. The frustration was too deep, too fundamental for sound. It was a silent, seismic shift within him. He looked from the mundane potatoes to the apocalyptic shadow painting the valley floor. The last vestige of his "normal adventurer" fantasy melted away, leaving only a cold, clear, and strangely calm acceptance.
He knelt, carefully re-shouldered the sack of potatoes, and turned to the farmhouse door. His voice, when he finally spoke, was flat, resolved, and carried a weight his companions hadn't heard before.
"Alright," he said. "Let's deliver these first. Then we can go see what the hell that is."