The dawn comes pale and heavy.
Light crawls across the rooftops, slow and uncertain, like it's not sure it belongs here.
I wake with a start. My chest feels tight, my dreams still clinging to me.
For a moment, I just sit there, staring at the wall. Then I remember.
The rank-up exam.
"Damn," I mutter, jumping from bed.
I wash quickly, throw on my cloak, tighten my belt. The book I wrote in last night lies open on the desk — ink still faintly glimmering. I close it and slide it into my bag.
Outside, the air bites with early cold. The streets are quiet, only a few people moving — bakers, guards, tired merchants setting up their stalls again.
When I reach the guild, the front doors are already open. The hall smells of oil and dust.
The receptionist from yesterday looks up from her desk and smiles faintly.
"You're early," she says.
"I didn't want to be late," I answer, still catching my breath.
"Good. The others are already gathering in the training ground. Go straight through the courtyard and take the left path — you'll hear them."
"Thanks."
The courtyard opens wide under the pale morning light. From there, I can see the training fields — flat stretches of packed dirt surrounded by low walls and wooden dummies, most half-broken from previous tests.
Two people stand near the center, talking quietly.
I walk toward them. "Excuse me," I say. "Is this where the rank-up test takes place?"
They turn to me.
The first is a woman with short crimson hair, wearing light armor with a sword strapped across her back. Her expression is calm but sharp, like she's always one step from drawing her blade.
The second is a tall man — or maybe barely older than me — with a staff resting on his shoulder. His robes are clean, trimmed with silver threads. His gaze feels analytical, not unfriendly, but weighing.
"Yes, this is the place," the woman answers. "We're waiting for the examiners."
"Raynor and Paige, right?" I ask.
"Yeah," she nods. "They handle this batch."
"Thanks. I'm Izur," I say, offering a small bow. "Izur Ed Loyre."
She smiles politely. "Scarlet."
The mage follows, tone casual but curious. "Euthes."
Then his eyes narrow a bit. "Ed Loyre, huh? You don't often see nobles trying for mercenary ranks."
"I'm not a noble," I say.
Scarlet tilts her head slightly, skeptical. "Really?"
"Really. Just a commoner with a family name. Nothing special about it."
They exchange a look, then shrug. Euthes chuckles. "Fair enough. Names mean less here anyway."
Before I can say anything more, a familiar voice booms across the field.
"Alright, people! Gather up!"
Raynor strides in from the far side, armor glinting faintly in the light. His grin is sharp and confident as always. Beside him walks Paige — tall, quiet, dressed in layered robes marked with faint runes. Her eyes are cold and unreadable.
"Twenty participants today," Raynor announces. "Sword and magic branches. Don't die and we'll call it a good day."
A few nervous laughs ripple through the group.
He gestures toward Paige. "Mages, you'll go with her. Swordsmen, with me."
I glance at Scarlet — she nods, tightening her gauntlets. We step forward with the others.
The field's center clears, leaving a wide circle. Paige raises her staff slightly, and the air shivers. Circles of light flare on the ground, glowing red. From them, shapes crawl out — wolves, but not natural ones. Their fur flickers like smoke, and their eyes burn faintly blue.
Raynor crosses his arms. "Simple task," he says. "Three wolves. Alone. No help, no magic circles, no tricks. You pass if you kill them. You fail if you hesitate."
The first volunteer steps forward. Then another.
Screams, growls, steel against flesh. The air fills with dust and blood.
When my turn comes, I breathe once, then draw my blade.
The wolves form again — three this time, all staring straight at me. Their shapes twitch unnaturally, like they're stitched from shadows.
The first lunges before I move. I sidestep, letting its claws scrape against the dirt, then drive my knee into its jaw and slice across its neck. The body bursts into ash.
The second circles, waiting. I feint left, then roll forward. It jumps — exactly where I wanted. I thrust upward, the blade piercing through its throat. It collapses in silence.
The third doesn't attack. It watches me.
Smart.
I lower my stance, waiting. The wind shifts — it moves. A blur of black. I twist and cut diagonally, the blade singing. For a split second, I see its teeth flash — then its head parts from its body.
When the ash settles, I'm standing alone. My breath steams in the cold air.
Raynor smirks. "Not bad," he says. "Didn't expect less, though."
I sheath my sword. "Thanks… I think."
"Take it as a compliment."
I step back and watch as the others finish. When the dust settles, only seven of us remain. Scarlet is among them. She's breathing hard, a shallow cut along her arm, but she's smiling.
I walk to her. "You alright?"
"Just a scratch," she says, wiping the blood. "They bite harder than they look."
"Yeah, they do."
Raynor steps aside, gesturing to Paige. "Your turn, mages."
Paige nods once. "Follow me." Her voice is quiet but commands silence.
They move into a separate facility behind the field — a stone structure with no windows. The doors close, muffling everything.
We wait.
The minutes stretch.
Scarlet sits on a fence post, idly cleaning her blade.
When the doors open again, one mage leaves pale and shaking. Another, smiling faintly. Then Euthes — calm, steady, staff in hand.
He walks up to us. "Passed," he says simply.
Scarlet grins. "Congratulations. We both made it too."
He nods, then looks at me. "Guess we'll be working together more often."
"Maybe," I say. "If we survive long enough."
He laughs quietly. "Fair point."
We talk a little — about the test, about Raynor's harsh training, about how the guild filters recruits — until Raynor approaches again.
"Izur," he calls.
I straighten. "Yeah?"
He jerks his head toward the courtyard. "Come with me. Someone wants to meet you."
Scarlet arches a brow. "Already? You popular or something?"
"Not that I know of," I answer.
Euthes chuckles. "Good luck then."
I wave lightly to them both and follow Raynor through the narrow path between training buildings. The noise of the guild fades behind us.
We stop at a small chamber near the outer walls. A faint hum of magic seeps through the air.
Raynor places his hand on the door. "She's waiting inside," he says.
"She?" I echo.
He grins slightly. "You'll see."
The door creaks open.
And standing there, half in shadow, her eyes catching the morning light