CHAPTER 5: FIRST STEPS
Nolan woke to sunlight streaming through the window and the smell of something cooking downstairs.
For a disorienting moment, he forgot where he was. The room was unfamiliar—clean, warm, safe. So different from the cold forest floors and rocky caves he'd slept in for the past three days. Then memory returned: the capital, the wyrm fight, the Warriors Three.
Four now. He was part of a team.
The thought still felt surreal.
He sat up slowly, testing his body. The healer's magic had done its work—his ribs were sore but manageable, the bruises faded to yellow-green instead of angry purple. He could move without wanting to scream, which was a significant improvement over yesterday.
How domestic, Diablo's voice drifted through his thoughts. Playing house with your new friends. Have you forgotten what you are? What we are?
"It's called recovery," Nolan muttered, pulling on the new clothes the team had bought him yesterday. Sturdy travel pants, a simple tunic, boots that actually fit. "Even you should understand the value of not being in constant pain."
Pain is a teacher. Comfort makes you weak.
"Then I'll be weak for a few days. I can live with that."
He made his way downstairs, following the sound of voices and the increasingly appealing smell of breakfast. The office had been transformed into a dining area again—the desk cleared, plates and food spread across it. Selene stood at a small cooking hearth built into the wall, flipping something in a pan. Kaida sat at the table reading a book, her long silver hair catching the morning light. Darion was nowhere to be seen.
"Morning," Selene said without turning around. "How do you feel?"
"Better. Way better." Nolan settled into a chair. "Where's Darion?"
"Supply run. We're low on arrows after yesterday, and his bowstring needs replacing." She slid a plate in front of him—eggs, bread, some kind of meat. "Eat. We've got a busy day."
"The Guild registration?"
"Already done, remember? You've got your provisional license." Selene joined them at the table with her own plate. "Today's about getting you acclimated. First stop: Adventurer's Guild."
"Wait, there's a Mage's Guild and an Adventurer's Guild?"
Kaida looked up from her book with a small smile. "The Mage's Guild handles certification, training, magical research. The Adventurer's Guild is where we get contracts—monster hunting, escort missions, investigation work. They post jobs, we complete them, they handle payment and verify completion."
"Think of it like this," Selene added. "Mage's Guild makes sure you won't accidentally blow up half the city. Adventurer's Guild gives you legitimate reasons to use your magic that won't get you arrested."
"And pays us," Kaida said. "Don't forget the paying part."
"How could I forget when you remind me every time we discuss finances?" Selene's tone was affectionate despite the jab.
Nolan ate while they talked, soaking in the easy banter. This was what a team looked like—people who'd worked together long enough to develop rhythms, inside jokes, comfortable silences. He was an outsider looking in, and part of him wondered if he'd ever really fit.
You won't, Diablo supplied helpfully. You're different. Dangerous. Eventually they'll see that.
"So," Selene said, pushing her empty plate aside. "How much do you actually know about being an adventurer?"
"Uh..." Nolan tried to think. "You fight monsters? Help people? Get paid for it?"
"Technically correct," Kaida said. "But there's more to it. Contracts have ranks based on difficulty—F through S rank. F-rank is things like 'find my lost cat' or 'clear rats from my basement.' S-rank is 'ancient dragon threatening to destroy a kingdom.'"
"We mostly take C and B-rank contracts," Selene continued. "Challenging enough to pay well, not so dangerous that we're likely to die. Yesterday's wyrm was supposed to be C-rank."
"It wasn't," Nolan observed.
"No. It very much wasn't." Selene's expression darkened. "Someone either gave us bad intelligence or deliberately set us up. We're still trying to figure out which."
"Could be both," Kaida murmured, though she didn't elaborate.
Darion returned shortly after, loaded down with supplies and looking far too cheerful for someone who'd nearly been eaten by a giant snake yesterday. "Morning, kid! Ready for your first day as a proper adventurer?"
"I guess?"
"That's the spirit! Confidence is key." The dwarf began unloading his purchases—arrows, bowstring, what looked like several types of specialty bolts. "Oh, and I got you something."
He tossed a small leather-bound journal to Nolan, who caught it reflexively.
"What's this?"
"Training log. Every good mage keeps one—records what techniques you're working on, what's improving, what's not. Plus you can use it for regular journal stuff if you want. Writing down your feelings, drawing pictures of Selene, whatever."
"I am not going to draw pictures of Selene."
"Your loss. She's very drawable."
"Darion," Selene said warningly, but there was laughter in her eyes.
They finished breakfast and headed out into the city. Morning in Eldoria was somehow even more overwhelming than yesterday evening—the streets packed with people, shops opening, street vendors calling out their wares. The magical diversity was staggering. Nolan saw a human woman with flowers growing in her hair (plant magic, he guessed), an elven child making small water shapes dance in the air for coins, a dwarf whose beard literally glowed with runic light.
Magic wasn't just common here. It was everywhere, woven into daily life as naturally as breathing.
This could all be yours, Diablo whispered. Real power. Not these parlor tricks. I could show you magic that would make these fools kneel.
"I don't want people kneeling," Nolan thought back. "I just want to understand what I can do without hurting anyone."
Boring. You're boring.
The Adventurer's Guild was in the Trade Quarter, a sprawling building that managed to look both official and chaotic. Inside was controlled madness—dozens of adventurers of all races and apparent skill levels, browsing massive boards covered in contract postings. Behind a long counter, several tired-looking clerks processed paperwork.
"Organized chaos," Selene said, guiding Nolan through the crowd. "You'll get used to it."
They approached the counter, where a middle-aged human woman looked up with the expression of someone who'd seen everything twice.
"Warriors Three. Back already? Didn't you just complete a contract yesterday?"
"We did. And we're filing a complaint about the intelligence we received." Selene's tone was professional but firm. "The Venomscale Wyrm we were hired to handle was easily twice the size indicated in the briefing. It had evolved capabilities not mentioned in the report. We nearly died."
The clerk's expression shifted from bored to concerned. "That's... that's serious. If the initial assessment was that far off—"
"Either someone made a very dangerous mistake, or someone deliberately tried to get us killed." Selene leaned forward. "We'd like to know which."
"I'll flag it for investigation. In the meantime..." The clerk pulled out a form. "You mentioned a fourth party assisted in the completion?"
"Right here." Selene gestured to Nolan. "Nolan Thorne, newly registered mage. He's joining our team."
The clerk looked Nolan up and down, then checked something in a ledger. "Nolan Thorne... ah, yes. Advanced Core classification, provisional license, pending control certification. Welcome to the Guild." She stamped a card and slid it across the counter. "This is your Adventurer's Guild identification. Keep it on you—you'll need it to accept contracts, enter certain areas, receive payment."
Nolan took the card. It had his name, a terrible sketch that was supposed to be his face, and several official-looking stamps.
"Warriors Three are currently registered as a C-rank party," the clerk continued. "With four members, you're eligible to attempt B-rank contracts, though I'd recommend building cohesion first. New team dynamics can be... challenging."
"We'll stick to C-rank for now," Selene agreed. "Maybe some easy ones while we get Nolan integrated."
They spent the next hour browsing contracts. Nolan watched as his new teammates debated various options, weighing pay against risk against time investment. It was surprisingly analytical—less "brave heroes charging into danger" and more "professionals evaluating business opportunities."
"This one," Kaida finally said, pointing to a posting. "Mana beast investigation in the farming district. Several livestock killed, witnesses report a large creature with 'glowing eyes and too many teeth.' Classic hunt contract. C-rank, pays 500 silver."
"Split four ways, that's 125 each," Darion calculated. "Not amazing, but decent for probably a day's work."
"And it's straightforward," Selene added. "Good first mission for the new team composition. Nolan, how do you feel about hunting an unknown mana beast?"
Honestly? Terrified. But he couldn't say that. "I'll manage."
"That's not what I asked."
Nolan met her eyes. "I'm scared. I barely controlled my power during the wyrm fight. What if I lose control again? What if I hurt someone?"
Selene's expression softened. "That's why this is a good first mission. Farming district is relatively isolated. The beast is probably something manageable. And—" She glanced at Kaida and Darion, who nodded. "We'll be watching your back. That's what teams do."
They can't protect you from yourself, Diablo commented. From me.
"We'll take it," Selene told the clerk.
They received a briefing packet with details—location, witness statements, description of the attacks. The kills had started three days ago, always at night, always livestock from the same area. No human casualties yet, but that was likely just luck.
"We'll scout the area this afternoon," Selene said as they left the Guild. "Set up for a night hunt. Mana beasts are usually more active after dark."
"In the meantime," Kaida said, "Nolan needs proper equipment. You can't keep fighting in street clothes."
They spent the next few hours in what Darion called "adventurer outfitting." First stop: an armorer who specialized in "mage-friendly protection"—light leather armor that wouldn't restrict movement or interfere with casting. The dwarf proprietor took one look at Nolan's build and energy signature and immediately began pulling pieces.
"Reinforced leather, mana-conductive threading, flexible joints," he explained, holding up a vest. "Won't stop a sword through the heart, but it'll keep you alive through most common dangers. And—" He tapped the threading. "These channels help stabilize energy flow. Won't fix bad control, but it'll make it slightly less likely you'll blow yourself up."
"That's... weirdly specific."
"Lot of young mages blow themselves up. It's a thing." The armorer shrugged. "Try this on."
The armor fit surprisingly well—snug but not restrictive, with buckles that adjusted for movement. Looking at himself in the polished metal mirror, Nolan barely recognized the person staring back. He actually looked like an adventurer now.
You look like you're playing dress-up, Diablo observed. A child in his father's clothes.
"How much?" Nolan asked, already dreading the answer.
"For the full set? 200 silver."
Nolan's heart sank. He had exactly zero silver to his name.
"Put it on the Warriors' account," Selene said before he could protest. "He'll pay us back from his share of contracts."
"I can't ask you to—"
"You're not asking. I'm telling you. Can't have our newest member getting killed because he was too proud to accept help." She paid the armorer, then turned to Nolan. "You'll work it off. Consider it an investment in keeping you alive."
Next was a proper weapon. Darion insisted on taking him to a weaponsmith he knew—a massive human woman named Thera who looked like she could bend iron bars with her bare hands.
"So you're the new kid," she said, looking Nolan up and down. "Selene says you're a mage, but mages still need steel. What's your preference?"
"I... don't really know? I've only ever used an axe for chopping wood."
"Practical. I like that." Thera began pulling weapons from racks. "Sword's traditional but requires training. Spear gives you reach but can be unwieldy in close quarters. Axe you're already familiar with..."
She handed him a hand-axe—lighter than the wood-cutting one he'd grown up with, balanced differently. The blade had a slight curve to it, and the handle was wrapped in worn leather.
"Try the grip."
Nolan took it, testing the weight. It felt... right. Natural in a way a sword wouldn't have.
"Good choice," Thera said. "Versatile. Can throw it if needed, though I don't recommend making a habit of that. And—" She pointed to channels carved into the blade. "Like his armor, mana-conductive. Channel your energy through it, and you can enhance your strikes."
"How much?"
"For Selene's team? 80 silver. And that includes a basic maintenance kit."
Again, Selene paid before Nolan could argue. "You're racking up quite a debt," she said with a slight smile. "Hope you're good at this adventuring thing."
"Me too," Nolan said quietly.
By the time they returned to the townhouse, Nolan was equipped like a proper adventurer—armor, weapon, supplies. Darion had even bought him a proper pack to carry everything.
"Rest for a few hours," Selene instructed. "We leave at sunset. The farming district is about an hour's walk, and we want to be in position before full dark."
Nolan retreated to his room, exhaustion from the day's activities finally catching up with him. He sat on the bed, looking at all the new equipment. The armor. The axe. The Guild card with his name on it.
Three days ago, he'd been chopping wood in the mountains. His biggest worry had been gathering enough firewood for winter.
Now he was an adventurer in the largest city in the world, preparing to hunt a mana beast, carrying the power of a Dark Lord in his chest.
Having second thoughts? Diablo asked.
"About which part? There's a lot to have second thoughts about."
All of it. You could leave tonight. Take your new equipment, disappear into the city, find your grandfather on your own. These people—they'll only slow you down. Hold you back.
"Or they'll keep me alive long enough to figure out what I'm doing."
Is that really what you want? To be kept alive? Or do you want to truly LIVE? To embrace what you are?
"I want to not lose control and hurt someone. That's what I want."
Boring.
A knock on the door interrupted their internal argument. "Nolan? You decent?" Selene's voice.
"Yeah, come in."
She entered, carrying two cups of tea. "Thought you might want this. Kaida swears by it for pre-mission nerves." She handed him one cup and sat in the room's single chair.
"Thanks." The tea was herbal, slightly bitter, but warming. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Why are you being so nice to me? You don't know me. I could be anyone—a criminal, a spy, a..." He gestured vaguely at himself. "A disaster waiting to happen."
Selene sipped her tea, considering. "Fair question. Honestly? A few reasons. One: you saved our lives. That counts for a lot. Two: you remind me of myself when I first started. All that power, no idea what to do with it, scared of hurting people."
"You have control issues too?"
"Had. When I first awakened, my strength enhancement was completely unstable. I broke three swords in my first week of training, accidentally put someone through a wall during sparring, and spent every night terrified I'd hurt someone I cared about in my sleep." She smiled ruefully at the memory. "My father helped me through it. Patience, training, time. Eventually I learned control."
"How long did it take?"
"About a year before I stopped breaking everything I touched. Two before I felt confident. And honestly? I still have moments where the power surges and I have to be careful." She met his eyes. "Control is a constant practice, Nolan. Not a destination you reach. Anyone who tells you otherwise is lying."
That was... actually comforting. The idea that he wasn't uniquely broken, that other people struggled too.
"Third reason," Selene continued, "and this is the honest one: I think you're good people. You jumped in to save Kaida without hesitation. You're clearly terrified of your own power, which means you're aware of what it could do. The dangerous mages are the ones who think they're invincible. You know you're not. That's a good quality in a teammate."
"What if I lose control during the hunt tonight?"
"Then we handle it. That's what teams do—cover each other's weaknesses." She stood, moving toward the door. "Get some rest. You'll need it."
After she left, Nolan lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The tea had helped—he felt calmer, more centered. The anxiety was still there, thrumming under his skin, but it was manageable.
She likes you, Diablo observed. The swordswoman. She sees you as a project. Something to fix.
"Or she sees someone who needs help and decided to provide it. Not everyone has ulterior motives."
Everyone has ulterior motives. Some are just better at hiding them.
Nolan closed his eyes, trying to quiet both the voice in his head and his own spiraling thoughts. Tonight would be his first real mission. His first chance to prove he could do this—be part of a team, use his power responsibly, maybe even make a difference.
Or his first chance to fail spectacularly and prove Diablo right.
That's the spirit, the voice said dryly. Positive thinking.
Sunset painted the city in shades of gold and amber as the Warriors Four departed. They moved through streets that grew progressively quieter as they left the central districts, the buildings changing from stone and wood to simpler structures until finally giving way to open farmland.
The farming district was less "district" and more "scattered homesteads connected by dirt roads." Fields of crops stretched in every direction, punctuated by barns, silos, and the occasional farmhouse. It would have been peaceful if not for the tension in the air—the way farmers watched them pass with worried eyes, the way animals seemed skittish.
"There," Kaida said, pointing to a cluster of buildings ahead. "That's the Hendrick farm. According to the contract, they've lost three cows and a horse in the last three days."
They approached to find a weathered human man waiting for them—Farmer Hendrick, presumably. His face was lined with worry and sleepless nights.
"You the adventurers?" he asked without preamble.
"Warriors Four," Selene confirmed. "We're here about the beast problem."
Hendrick nodded grimly. "Started three nights ago. Something got into the east pasture, killed two cows. Thought it was just a wolf at first, but the wounds..." He shuddered. "No wolf did that. Next night it took another cow from the north field. Last night it got my prize mare." His voice cracked slightly. "Twenty years I had that horse."
"I'm sorry," Kaida said gently. "Can you show us where the attacks happened?"
He led them to the east pasture first. Even in the fading light, the evidence was clear—torn earth, blood soaked into the ground, claw marks on the fence posts. Nolan knelt beside one of the marks, studying it.
Four parallel gouges, each one deep enough to splinter the wood. Whatever made these was strong.
"The beast takes the bodies?" Darion asked, examining the scene.
"Drags them off. We found some remains in the woods—just bones, mostly. Stripped clean." Hendrick pointed toward the tree line. "That's where it comes from. The old forest. We don't go in there normally."
"Smart," Selene said. "Old forests attract old things. Mana beasts, spirits, worse."
They checked the other attack sites—similar evidence each time. The pattern was clear: the beast was hunting systematically, testing the farm's defenses, growing bolder each night.
"It'll come back tonight," Kaida said quietly. "They always do. Three successful hunts means it considers this territory now."
"Then we'll be waiting," Selene said. She turned to Hendrick. "Get your family inside, lock the doors, don't come out no matter what you hear. We'll handle this."
After the farmer retreated to his house, the team set up their ambush. Darion climbed into the hayloft of the barn with his bow, giving him a clear vantage point. Kaida positioned herself near the water trough—water source close by meant easier access to her element. Selene took point in the middle of the pasture, visible and obvious bait.
"Nolan," she called. "You're with me. But stay back about twenty feet. You're our surprise factor."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning most mana beasts are used to fighting in specific patterns. The beast sees me—obvious warrior. It sees Darion in the loft—obvious archer. It might sense Kaida—obvious mage. But you..." She smiled. "You're an unknown. Your energy signature is weird, unstable. The beast won't know what to make of you. That confusion is an advantage."
She's clever, Diablo admitted. Using your instability as a tactical asset.
They settled in to wait as full darkness fell. The moon was a silver crescent, providing minimal light. Nolan's eyes adjusted slowly, his enhanced senses picking up details he wouldn't have noticed days ago—the rustle of wind through crops, small animals moving in the darkness, the distant hoot of an owl.
Waiting was harder than fighting.
An hour passed. Then two. Nolan was starting to think maybe the beast wouldn't show, that maybe—
There.
He didn't know if it was Diablo's warning or his own instincts, but suddenly he knew something was wrong. The ambient sounds had gone quiet. No insects, no small animals, nothing. Just silence.
Selene felt it too. Her hand went to her sword, body tensing.
Then the beast emerged from the tree line.
It was massive—easily the size of a full-grown bull, built low to the ground like a cat, covered in dark fur that seemed to absorb light. Its eyes glowed a sickly yellow-green, and when it opened its mouth, Nolan counted far too many teeth.
Some kind of evolved panther, he guessed. Mana saturation had made it bigger, stronger, wrong.
The beast's eyes fixed on Selene. It lowered into a crouch, muscles bunching.
Then it charged.
Selene didn't move—bait doesn't run. At the last possible moment, she rolled aside, and Darion's arrow slammed into the beast's shoulder. It roared, spinning, but Kaida was already attacking—water from the trough suddenly lashed out like a whip, wrapping around the beast's hind leg.
The creature fought the restraint, its raw strength impressive. One good pull and Kaida's water binding broke.
"Stronger than expected!" she called. "This is pushing B-rank!"
The beast's attention swiveled to her—the mage was the threat. It gathered itself for a leap that would carry it straight to Kaida's position.
"Nolan, NOW!" Selene shouted.
He didn't think. Just acted.
Blue energy erupted from his hands as he thrust them forward—not a structured spell, just raw power shaped by instinct. The blast caught the beast mid-leap, slamming it sideways into the ground.
It recovered quickly, landing on its feet, but now its glowing eyes were fixed on Nolan. On the power radiating from him.
It recognizes you, Diablo said. Recognizes what you carry. Predator to predator.
The beast stalked toward Nolan, ignoring the others now. Selene tried to intercept, but it batted her aside with casual strength. Darion's arrows bounced off its hide—the fur was tougher than it looked.
"Kaida, can you slow it down?" Darion called.
"I'm trying! It's too strong—it keeps breaking my holds!"
The beast was fifteen feet away now. Ten. Close enough that Nolan could smell the blood on its breath, see the intelligence burning in those eyes.
Let me handle this, Diablo urged. I can end it in seconds.
"No. I can do this myself."
You can't. You'll fail. You'll die. And then I'll be trapped in a corpse.
Five feet.
Nolan raised his hand, energy crackling around it. The beast hesitated—sensing danger, but also opportunity. It wanted the power it sensed in him.
Now or never, boy.
"I said I'll handle it!"
Nolan thrust his hand forward, willing the energy to condense, to focus instead of just exploding outward. The blue light coalesced into something almost solid—not quite a spear, not quite a blade, but something in between.
He threw it.
The energy construct hit the beast square in the chest, and this time the creature felt it. It stumbled, roaring in pain and surprise. Before it could recover, Selene was there, her sword blazing with white fire. Her strike carved a deep line across the beast's side.
It turned on her with a snarl, but Darion's next arrow found its eye. The beast thrashed, blinded on one side, confused by the coordinated assault from multiple directions.
"Together!" Selene shouted. "Hit it together!"
They all struck at once—Nolan's blue energy, Selene's flaming sword, Kaida's pressurized water, Darion's arrows. The beast tried to fight, tried to defend, but it was overwhelmed.
When it finally fell, it stayed down.
The pasture fell silent except for heavy breathing.
"Everyone okay?" Selene asked, breathing hard herself.
A chorus of affirmatives.
"Nolan," Kaida said, approaching him carefully. "That thing you did—shaping the energy into a projectile. How did you do that?"
"I... I don't know. I just thought about needing it to be more focused, and it sort of... happened?"
"Instinctive shaping. That's advanced technique." She studied him with renewed interest. "Most mages take months to learn basic energy manipulation. You just did it under pressure, first try."
Because of me, Diablo said smugly. My knowledge, my power, bleeding through to you.
"Lucky, probably," Nolan said aloud.
"Maybe," Kaida said, but she didn't sound convinced.
They spent the next hour securing the beast's body—proof of completion for the Guild—and checking the property for any signs of additional threats. Farmer Hendrick emerged once they gave the all-clear, his relief palpable.
"Thank you," he said, voice thick with emotion. "Thank you so much."
They accepted his thanks and began the walk back to the city, tired but successful. Their first mission as the Warriors Four, completed without major incident.
As they walked, Darion clapped Nolan on the shoulder. "Not bad for your first hunt, kid. Not bad at all."
"I almost lost control," Nolan admitted quietly.
"But you didn't. That's what matters." Selene fell into step beside him. "You held it together when it counted. That's all anyone can ask."
For now, Diablo whispered. But how long can you keep fighting me? How long before you slip?
Nolan didn't have an answer for that.
But tonight, at least, he'd proven something. To his team, and maybe to himself.
He could do this. One mission at a time.