Chapter narrated by: The one, the only, the greatest adventurer of all the continent, yours truly Aelith.
Date: The first day of this land knowing of the adventurer Aelith
The day was, in one simple mortal word, wonderful. Truly, truly wonderful. I had a comfortable bed beneath me, a pillow that had miraculously remained cold during the night, and—most importantly—my beautiful oracle resting beside me. For the first time since I began this curious experiment of "being a mortal," everything felt… right.
I wanted nothing else.
Well… let's not get carried away.
There were, of course, improvements that could be made. For example, the bed—while acceptable for a commoner—could certainly be larger. Vastly larger. And softer, too. Not that I am complaining, but a bed truly worthy of being the resting place of a goddess such as myself and Lira should, at the very least, feel like sleeping on a condensed cloud of pure divinity.
Then there's the matter of the room. Sharing it? Not a problem for me in theory—I am a benevolent and approachable deity—but it was more a question of who we were sharing it with. It would have been much more appropriate for just the two of us to be alone. And finally, but most importantly, Lira was far too far away from me. She could—and should—be closer.
Even so, I am a very understanding and humble goddess, so I had accepted the current situation… for now.
But if you had been giving my words the attention they deserve, you might have noticed a small detail: I'm speaking in the past tense. This is because that "acceptable" situation was about to become a thing of the past.
"Lira's friend."
I was sleeping. I wanted to continue sleeping. I wanted to continue resting here with Lira.
"Lira's friend. Lira's friend. Lira's friend—" the annoying girl said.
Though I must admit that being called upon is usually a part of my daily routine that I quite enjoy, this was the exception. Even so, with the grace and restraint that characterizes my being, I decided to completely ignore her transgression and continue with my rest.
That ended up not being my most brilliant idea. Not because it wasn't smart—it was, obviously—but because I had given a mere mortal the benefit of the doubt, believing she would receive my very clear message and cease the noise.
She did not.
But that was not the worst of it. The incessant sound had woken up Lira. Now, that was truly unforgivable. My oracle, however, seemed to take it with a sense of humor, letting out a soft laugh.
"I will wake her up, Sera. If you want, you can wait for us outside. We'll be there in a moment," said my incredibly patient oracle.
"Oky-dokey, partner! I'll wait downstairs. Don't take too long or all the good contracts will be taken!"
I heard the heavy clatter of boots, followed by the door of the room opening and clicking shut. Silence finally returned, but it was not the same as before. Then, I felt Lira's hands on my back.
"Hey Ali, we need to get up," she whispered, beginning to gently move me back and forth.
I let out a sound that came out as a pathetic, muffled grumble against the pillow. Mortal bodies sure feel awkward when they are tired. "The sun hasn't even risen, Lira. This 'adventurer' business is cruel."
"Sera says the best contracts go away first, so adventurers need to wake up early if they want them," Lira said, her warmth closer now as she leaned over me. "And weren't you the one who came and said she was a top-tier adventurer?"
I opened one eye, fixing my oracle with a look of profound, albeit sleepy, betrayal. Using my own proclamations against me?
"I did not say I was a top-tier adventurer, Lira," I corrected with all the dignity a person with bed-head could muster. "I stated as a matter of cosmic fact that I am the greatest light mage there is, not adventurer. There is a distinction."
Lira just laughed while moving through the room, gathering her things.
"What are you laughing at, Lira? If someone such as I needs to leave the sanctity of rest just to avoid being beaten by a group of mortals to a contract, then the system is flawed," I said.
Lira just continued laughing, finishing her preparations until she was standing there, simply waiting for me. I sighed. If this is what she wanted, so be it. Without her warmth beside me, the bed had lost its primary appeal anyway.
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We arrived at the guild after some time walking. It was not a silent journey; Lira and the girl—whose voice I found more and more annoying—were talking about some book they had acquired from a previous contract.
I was not paying much attention. A mortal's head hurts a great deal when their body is denied its proper rest.
Lira and I eventually found a table. My eyes felt heavy, though slightly less so than before, and then the girl whose name I refuse to say approached with a piece of paper in her hand.
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CONTRACT #014-G
Required Rank: 1
Client: The Church of Reval
Task: There has been an increase in protests near the central market due to the recent events of the southern district. Help is needed to ensure the protest does not cause any damage and stays controlled.
Reward: 36 silver coins.
Note: The contract must be fulfilled without damaging any of the protesters. Help must only ensure that the protest stays controlled and does not damage the usual functionality of the central market.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------
We went to the desk of the guild where there was a tired-looking woman. Good; I hope I never see the rude man from yesterday ever again. I still find it impressive that he dared to speak to me in such a manner.
"The protest?" Mary asked with a dry voice. She didn't even look up.
"Indeed," I declared, leaning against the counter with what I assumed was an air of effortless superiority. "The Church has requested the presence of the greatest light mage to grace this continent. It would be churlish to deny them."
The woman paused, blinked slowly at me, then stamped the paper. "Sure. Good luck."
We stepped out into the morning air. Sera—the annoying one—kept talking about the "tactical positioning" of our group, while Lira walked beside me.
The morning air carried a different kind of energy than the quiet of our room. It was alive—noisy, restless, and filled with the kind of chaos mortals seemed to love. Voices overlapped. Feet shuffled. Someone shouted something about Reval, another about the southern district, and somewhere in between, a merchant loudly complained about cabbages.
I stood there, arms crossed, observing the spectacle with a critical eye.
"This is the protest?" I asked, unimpressed. "I expected something… grander. Perhaps flames. A dramatic speech. At least one person dramatically pointing at the sky in a moment of existential crisis."
Sera, unfortunately, was thrilled. She was already gesturing like some self-proclaimed general of a very small, very dusty army. "Okay, so we position ourselves here. We keep an eye on the crowd flow, watch for escalation points, and—"
"Yes, yes," I waved a hand, dismissing her tactical prattling. "Stand around and look important. I understand the assignment."
Lira, standing beside me, leaned slightly closer. Her warmth was a steady anchor amidst the muddy heat of the agitated crowd. "Ali, just behave, okay? No miracles unless it's an emergency."
I gave her a look of deep offense. "I am always the pinnacle of composure, Lira."
At first, I entertained myself by observing the mortals. There were patterns—small disputes, brief bursts of shouting, followed by awkward silences when no one quite knew what to do next. I even intervened once.
But after that… nothing. No dramatic escalation. No chaos worthy of my presence. Just more standing. More talking. More waiting. I lasted—generously speaking—twenty minutes before the sheer, crushing weight of mortal boredom became too much to bear.
"This is unbearably dull," I declared, stretching my arms above my head until my joints complained. "If this is what being an adventurer entails, I demand an immediate revision of my expectations."
Sera didn't even turn to look at me. "We're literally getting paid to stand here, Ali. Keep your eyes on the lane."
"Yes, and I am vastly overqualified for stationary observation. My talents are being stifled by this lack of drama."
"Ali…" Lira sighed softly, the sound weary.
"I will remain within the general vicinity," I assured her, already stepping backward into the flow of the market. "You have my word as a good light mage."
"That doesn't make me feel better!" Lira called out, though she didn't move to stop me.
"It should!"
I turned my back on the shouting and the dust, expanding my understanding of mortal culture. The moment I stepped deeper into the market, everything changed.
Oh. Oh, now this was interesting. There was color everywhere—bright fabrics hanging like banners, fruits of all hues, and shiny objects that deserved my attention. Even the air was completely different, filled with scents I hadn't smelled before.
A woman was loudly advertising something. A man was bargaining with an intensity usually reserved for life-or-death combat. Mortals truly had fascinating priorities. I slowed my pace, my eyes drifting from stall to stall until the scent of sweetness grew stronger.
I followed it until I saw it: a cake. It was tall, layered, and decorated with something that shimmered slightly under the sun. This cake was truly something worthy of myself; the only tragedy was that the price reflected its quality—one gold coin.
A tragedy.
However, before I could investigate how one might acquire such a masterpiece without "currency," I saw something at the edge of my vision.
There was a girl, no older than four years, looking lost. But it was her appearance that froze my breath. She had white hair that fell messily around her face and striking red eyes. She looked like a younger version of my oracle.
"Hello? Are you okay, little one?"
The girl blinked up at me. For a moment, she said nothing. Then, in a small, shaky voice: "…I can't find my mommy."
I crouched down to her level, my cloak brushing the dirt. A tragic tale, truly. "Can you tell me what happened?"
"I was with mommy helping her buy things. Mommy said she needed help because now I'm big and strong enough to help her, but when we were over there—" she pointed with her tiny finger to my right, "—I saw the cake and got hungry, so I came over here and now I can't find mommy anywhere."
She sniffled, rubbing one eye with the back of her hand.
"Very well," I said.
The girl blinked. "…Huh?"
I placed a hand lightly on her head. "From this moment onward, you are under my protection. You have encountered me in your hour of need; consider yourself fortunate."
She stared at me, obviously overwhelmed by my radiance. "…Okay."
"Yes. That is the correct response," I said, nodding. "However, you require a proper designation. 'Girl' is far too common..."
"I have a name," she said, frowning slightly.
"Yes, but I have decided on a better one," I waved the objection off. "You resemble my oracle. Therefore, from now on, you shall be known as… Mini Lira."
She blinked again. "…Mini… Lira?"
"Precisely. Now, come." I stood and offered her my hand. "We have two objectives, Mini Lira."
She took my hand without hesitation, her small fingers gripping mine. "…Cake?" she asked hopefully.
I allowed myself a small, approving smile. "First, we secure the cake. A very important step for morale. And then, we will locate your mother."
She squeezed my hand a little. "…Okay."
And so, my own—and much more interesting—adventure began.