The Silent Guardian
Night settled gently over Orario.
Lanternlight spilled from the windows of the Hostess of Fertility, warm and alive, laughter bleeding into the streets like music. Steam rose from the kitchen vents, carrying the scent of bread and meat and something sweeter—safety.
On a rooftop across the street, two figures stood in shadow.
Aisha leaned against the stone parapet, arms crossed, her gaze fixed on the tavern below. The emerald fabric at her waist fluttered softly in the night wind. Beside her, Lena crouched low, resting her elbows on her knees, chin on her knuckles.
Through the wide windows—
Rhyla moved between tables.
Not hurried. Not tense.
An apron tied clumsily at her waist. Sleeves rolled up. Hair pulled back, a little messy. She laughed at something Anya said—actually laughed—and for a moment forgot to watch the door behind her.
She looked… normal.
Alive.
Lena exhaled slowly.
"She looks happy," she murmured. "Don't you think?"
Aisha didn't answer right away.
Her eyes stayed on the girl. On the way Rhyla handed a plate to a customer. On the way she flinched when a mug shattered somewhere behind her—just for a heartbeat—then steadied when Anya bumped her shoulder and grinned.
"She's safe," Aisha said at last.
Lena glanced at her. "You sure?"
Aisha's lips curved faintly. Not a smile. Something quieter.
"She's under that woman's roof."
They both knew who she meant.
The dwarf.
The owner.
The one who chased armed adventurers through Orario for unpaid tabs.
Lena snorted softly. "Yeah. I guess even Lady Ishtar wouldn't be stupid enough to reach in there."
A moment passed.
Below, Rhyla paused near the counter. She listened as Anya said something—probably teasing—and flushed, waving her hands in denial. The catgirl laughed louder. Plates clattered. Life went on.
Aisha's hand tightened on the stone.
"She lied," Lena said quietly.
Aisha nodded. "I know."
"She grabbed the first man she saw and said 'husband' without thinking."
Another pause.
"…Bold," Lena added.
Aisha huffed a short laugh. "Reckless."
Her gaze softened.
"But it worked."
They watched as Rhyla leaned against the counter, breathing easy now. As if the weight she'd carried for months had been set down—just for tonight.
"Looking out for our own is hard," Lena said.
Aisha glanced at her.
"But," Lena continued, "seeing her smile like that… it really is worth the trouble."
Aisha huffed a quiet laugh.
"Yeah."
She turned her gaze back to the city.
"I'd take any beating from that frog if it meant she slipped free."
Lena winced. "You always were reckless."
Aisha's eyes narrowed—not in anger, but something colder.
"Failing Lady Ishtar once is dangerous," she said.
"Failing her twice?"
She shook her head.
"That's a death sentence."
A pause.
Then, quieter—almost a vow:
"So we make sure she never has to face that again."
The wind shifted.
"A skill that caught Lady Ishtar's eye," Aisha murmured, staring up at a night sky without stars. "What could it be?"
"We thought we could move her out of the city," Lena said quietly. "Where Ishtar would have a harder time tracking her."
She hesitated.
"Twice. Today alone," Lena continued. "She slipped past us. Easily. How?"
Aisha frowned.
"What did you say?"
Lena blinked.
"She slips—"
She caught herself mid-sentence.
Slips away easily…
The words lingered in the cold night air.
Aisha's eyes narrowed.
…Troublesome.
She turned away from the parapet. "Then I'll make sure Lady Ishtar never gets her."
Her gaze lingered on the tavern window for just a second longer.
"Come on," she said. "We've seen enough."
They vanished into the rooftops.
Below, laughter drifted up from the Hostess once more—unaware of the eyes that had watched over it.
Unaware of the hands that had held the line.
Some protections are never announced.
Some guardians never stand in front.
They remain where no one looks.
Silent.
***