Chapter 70

  Valdris was overwhelming in ways Arin hadn't anticipated.

  Vyrdan had been a city with adventurers. Valdris was a city built around them. Every street seemed to hold a weapons shop, an armor smith, an alchemist's storefront, or a tavern catering specifically to guild members. Contract boards stood at major intersections, their surfaces covered in postings that ranged from simple pest removal to expeditions into the depths below the gorge.

  And the people. There were so many people.

  Humans made up perhaps half the crowd, but the rest was a mixture Arin had never seen assembled in one place. Dwarves were common, their presence explaining much of the city's architectural ambition. Elves moved through the streets with the particular grace of their kind. He spotted what he thought might be a half-orc haggling with a merchant, and something that was definitely not human watching the crowds from a rooftop perch, its wings folded against its back.

  "Harpy," Essa said, following his gaze. "They nest in the cliffs below the city. Some of them work as couriers, carrying messages across the gorge faster than any bridge can manage."

  "How do you know that?" Torvin asked.

  "I read. You should try it sometime," their healer teased.

  Arin watched the harpy launch itself from the rooftop and glide across the street, disappearing into an alley on the far side. A creature that would be killed on sight in most towns, here employed as a messenger. The implications settled into him with quiet hope.

  "There," Kelsa said, pointing ahead. "The guild hall."

  The Valdris Adventurer's Guild occupied a building that made Vyrdan's guild hall look modest by comparison.

  It rose four stories from the street, its facade a blend of stone and dark timber that managed to look both welcoming and imposing. The main doors were flanked by statues of armored figures, their features worn smooth by generations of hands touching them for luck. Above the entrance, carved into the lintel, were the words Strength Through Service .

  Inside, the main hall buzzed with activity. A massive contract board dominated one wall, easily three times the size of Vyrdan's, covered in postings organized by rank and type. Adventurers clustered around tables, some studying maps, others sharing drinks and stories. A long counter ran along the back wall, staffed by half a dozen clerks processing paperwork with practiced efficiency.

  Heads turned as they entered. Arin felt the familiar weight of attention, the quick assessments that came with being something unusual. But the reactions were different here. Curiosity rather than fear. Interest rather than hostility.

  A woman at a nearby table nudged her companion. "That's a slime," she said, not bothering to lower her voice. "An actual slime in humanoid form. You see the way it moves? Smooth, no joints."

  "Think it's sapient?"

  "Must be, if it's with a party. Wonder what its abilities are like."

  Professional curiosity. The assessment of peers, wondering how a new element might fit into the ecosystem of adventuring work. It wasn't acceptance, not yet, but it was a start.

  "Help you?" The clerk who addressed them was a middle-aged man with ink-stained fingers and the tired eyes of someone who had processed a thousand registrations and would process a thousand more.

  "Transfer registration," Kelsa said, sliding their documentation across the counter. "Party of four from Vyrdan. We'd like to establish ourselves here."

  The clerk flipped through the papers with practiced speed. "Silver rank, two floors of the Dungeon of Challenges, House Carren sponsorship still active." He glanced up. "Solid record. Any particular reason for the transfer?"

  "Looking for new opportunities," Kelsa said smoothly.

  The clerk's eyes flicked to Arin, then back to Kelsa. Something knowing passed across his face, but he didn't comment. "Fair enough. Valdris has plenty of those." He stamped the papers and made notes in a ledger. "You'll want to speak with the Guild Master before taking any contracts. Standard procedure for transfers. She likes to meet new parties personally."

  "Is she available?"

  "For a party that cleared two floors of a challenge dungeon? She'll make time." He gestured toward a staircase at the far end of the hall. "Third floor, end of the corridor. Tell the guard I sent you up."

  ***

  Guild Master Corrine was not what Arin had expected.

  Where Harren had been compact and practical, Corrine was tall and elegant, with silver hair pulled back in a severe style that emphasized sharp cheekbones and sharper eyes. She wore no armor, but the way she moved when she rose to greet them spoke of someone who had spent decades with a weapon in hand. A pair of thin swords hung on the wall behind her desk, their edges catching the light from the windows.

  "The Vyrdan transfers," she said, her voice carrying the cultured tones of someone born to privilege but hardened by experience. "Please, sit."

  Her office was larger than Harren's but similarly cluttered, maps and reports competing for space on every surface. A window behind her desk looked out over the gorge, the view so stunning it was distracting.

  "I've reviewed your file," Corrine continued once they were seated. "Impressive work in the Dungeon of Challenges. Two floors on a first run is noteworthy. Most Silver parties don't make it past the first guardian." Her eyes found Arin. "The reports mention your slime served as the primary tank against both guardians. That's unusual."

  "Yes," Arin said.

  Corrine watched him speak with obvious interest. "Fascinating. I've read about sapient slimes in academic texts, but I've never had the opportunity to meet one." She leaned back in her chair. "I've also received a message from Guild Master Harren in Vyrdan. He explained the circumstances of your departure."

  The room went still. Arin felt his party tense around him.

  "I want to be clear about something," Corrine said, her tone hardening. "Valdris operates differently from Vyrdan. This city exists because it learned long ago that prejudice is bad for business. We have harpies running messages, a troll working as a bouncer at the Silver Chalice, and three separate kobold warrens that pay taxes and maintain good standing with the city watch. Species matters less here than conduct."

  She fixed Arin with a direct stare. "What happened in Vyrdan's Dungeon had nothing to do with you. Anyone with sense can see that. You will be judged here by your actions, not by what other slimes have done. Is that understood?"

  "Yes, Guild Master."

  "Good." Her expression softened slightly. "Now, let's talk about what Valdris can offer you."

  ***

  Corrine spent the next hour walking them through Valdris's adventuring landscape.

  The city sat at the intersection of several major trade routes, which meant constant demand for caravan escorts and bandit suppression. The gorge itself was home to creatures that occasionally caused problems, from the mostly peaceful harpies to less friendly inhabitants that lurked in the deeper caves. And then there were the Echo Mines.

  "Our primary source of adventuring contracts," Corrine explained, unrolling a map across her desk. The parchment showed a network of tunnels spreading beneath the gorge like roots from a tree. "The mines were excavated centuries ago, following veins of rare minerals. They've been played out for generations, but the tunnels remain, and things have moved in."

  "What kind of things?" Kelsa asked.

  "Depends on the depth. Upper levels are relatively tame, the usual assortment of vermin and minor beasts. Middle levels get more dangerous. And the deep sections..." Corrine shook her head. "We don't send anyone below the third tier who isn't at least Gold rank."

  "Why are they called the Echo Mines?" Essa asked.

  "The acoustics. Something about the stone composition amplifies and carries sound in unusual ways. A whisper in one chamber might be heard clearly in another a hundred feet away. Useful for communication if you know the tunnels. Deadly if you don't, because creatures down there have adapted to hunt by sound."

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  Arin felt a spark of interest. His slime form sometimes offered a bit of help in areas with sound. It wasn't like a true sonar, but in an environment where sound was amplified, that advantage should only grow.

  "The upper levels would be appropriate for your current rank," Corrine continued. "Standard contracts include clearing infestations, recovering lost equipment from failed expeditions, and mapping new tunnel sections. Nothing glamorous, but steady work that will help you build a reputation here."

  "We're not afraid of unglamorous," Kelsa said. "We're here to prove ourselves. Whatever contracts you have, we'll take them."

  Corrine smiled, the expression transforming her stern features. "That's what I like to hear. Too many adventurers come to Valdris expecting to jump straight to the high-profile work. The ones who succeed are the ones willing to do the jobs no one else wants." She rolled up the map and handed it to Kelsa. "Consider this a welcoming gift. The upper-level layouts, current as of last month. Study it before you venture in."

  "Thank you, Guild Master."

  "Don't thank me yet. Earn it." Corrine stood, signaling the end of the meeting. "There's an inn called the Gorge View, two streets west of here. The owner is a retired adventurer who doesn't ask too many questions and keeps reasonable rates. Tell her Corrine sent you."

  ***

  The Gorge View earned its name.

  The inn perched on the edge of the chasm, its back wall consisting entirely of windows that looked out over the dizzying drop. The common room was smaller than the Wandering Drake's, but the view more than compensated. Arin could see the river far below, the bridges spanning the gap, and the far side of the city climbing the opposite cliff face.

  The owner was a woman named Brenna, built like a barrel with arms that suggested she'd swung something heavier than a serving tray in her younger days. She looked at their party with the assessing gaze of someone who had seen every type of adventurer pass through her doors.

  "Corrine sent you?" she said after Kelsa made introductions. "Must see something in you. She doesn't make recommendations lightly." Her eyes lingered on Arin. "Sapient slime. Don't see many of those."

  "Not many of us to see," Arin said.

  Brenna laughed, a rough sound that spoke of pipe smoke and hard liquor. "Got a sense of humor too. Good. You'll need it in this business." She pulled a key from behind the counter. "Two rooms, adjoining, second floor. Best view in the house. Try not to break anything."

  "What's the rate?" Torvin asked.

  "Three silver a night per room, meals included. Discount if you pay by the week." She fixed them with a stern look. "I run a quiet house. Fighting stays outside. Problems with guests, you bring to me. And no," she added, glancing at Arin, "I don't charge extra for unusual party compositions. Coin's coin, and adventurers are adventurers."

  The rooms were simple but clean, the beds comfortable, the windows offering that stunning view of the gorge. Arin settled into a corner of the room he'd share with Torvin, letting his form relax into something closer to his natural state.

  "Not bad," Torvin said, testing the mattress. "Vyrdan's going to feel cramped if we ever go back."

  "If," Arin said.

  "If," Torvin agreed. "Honestly? I could get used to this place. Did you see the size of that contract board? There must be a hundred postings at any given time. We could work here for years and never run out of things to do."

  "The Echo Mines sound interesting," Arin said.

  "Right up your alley, I'd think. All that sound-based hunting? Your slime senses might give us an edge down there."

  "My thoughts exactly."

  ***

  That evening, the party gathered in the Gorge View's common room for their first proper meal since leaving Vyrdan.

  Brenna's cook proved competent, the stew hearty and the bread fresh. Other adventurers occupied nearby tables, their conversations a low murmur of contract discussions and dungeon stories. No one stared at Arin. No one whispered behind their hands or found excuses to relocate to the far side of the room.

  It was, Arin realized, almost normal.

  "So," Kelsa said, spreading Corrine's map on the table between dishes, "the Echo Mines. Upper levels to start, building our reputation. What do we think?"

  "I think I'm excited," Essa admitted. "The Dungeon of Challenges was intense, but it was one location. This is an entire network of tunnels with different challenges in each section. Room to grow, room to explore."

  "And room to make a name for ourselves," Torvin added. "You heard Corrine. The parties that succeed are the ones willing to do the work no one else wants. That's us. That's always been us."

  "I think I will be useful down there," Arin said.

  "More than useful," Kelsa said. "You might be our biggest advantage down there. Most parties have to worry about sound-hunting creatures. We have someone who can sense them before they sense us."

  "So we rest tonight, study the maps tomorrow, and take our first contract the day after?" Essa suggested.

  "That's the plan," Kelsa confirmed. She raised her cup. "To new beginnings."

  "To new beginnings," the others echoed.

  Arin didn't drink, but he pulsed his agreement, a gentle fluctuation of his form that his party had learned to recognize as assent.

  Outside the windows, the sun was setting over Valdris, painting the gorge in shades of gold and crimson. The city's lights were beginning to flicker on, a constellation of lanterns and torches that turned the chasm into a river of fire.

  It wasn't Vyrdan. It wasn't what they'd left behind.

  But it could become something better.

  Arin let that thought settle into his core as the evening deepened around them. They had work ahead, a reputation to build, and trust to earn. The same challenges they'd faced in Vyrdan, starting from nothing again.

  But this time, they knew they could do it. They'd proven it once already.

  And this time, they had each other from the start.

  ***

  Later that night, after his party had retired to their rooms, Arin found himself at the window overlooking the gorge. The city lights reflected off the river far below, creating ribbons of gold and crimson that wound through the darkness like living things.

  It was beautiful. Not useful, not strategic, not relevant to survival in any way. Just beautiful.

  He let himself appreciate it.

  Somewhere in the months since fleeing Vyrdan's sewers, he'd learned to do that. To pause. To notice. To feel something other than hunger or fear or the burning need for revenge. Levi had wanted him to live, and for the first time, Arin thought he understood what that truly meant.

  It wasn't just surviving. It wasn't just growing stronger. It was moments like this one, quiet and unremarkable, where he could simply exist and find that existence worthwhile.

  He had friends who trusted him. Work that mattered. A future that held more than just vengeance.

  For the first time, I'm not just running toward revenge or away from death. I'm actually looking forward to tomorrow.

  The realization brought something warm to his core. Peace, maybe. Or hope. He wasn't sure he knew the difference yet. But he was learning.

  The gorge wind carried sounds from the city below, laughter and music and the distant calls of night birds. Life, in all its chaotic variety, continuing on regardless of his presence. He was part of it now. Not just an observer. Not just a predator passing through.

  Part of it.

  Arin held onto that feeling as the night deepened, letting it settle into his being alongside everything else he carried.

  And yet.

  The peace didn't erase what lay beneath. The names he'd carried since that bloody night in Levi's room. The faces he'd never forgotten, no matter how many months passed or how far he traveled.

  Dax. Havel. Bram.

  They were out there somewhere, living their lives, probably believing they'd gotten away with murder. Maybe they'd graduated from the Academy by now. Maybe they held positions of power in their families' houses. Maybe they'd forgotten Levi entirely, just another obstacle removed on their path to privilege.

  They wouldn't forget forever.

  I haven't forgotten, Arin thought, watching the lights flicker in the gorge below. And someday soon, neither will you.

  But that was tomorrow's weight to carry. Tonight, he would let himself rest. Let himself feel something like happiness. Let himself be the person Levi had believed he could become.

  The hunt would continue. The truth would come out. Justice would find those who thought themselves beyond its reach.

  But first, he would live.

  That was the promise he'd made over his creator's dying body. And finally, after all these months, he was learning to keep it.

  Arin turned from the window and settled into his corner of the room, letting his form relax into something closer to his natural state. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new opportunities, and new steps on the long road ahead.

  He was ready for whatever came next.