The guild hall was busier than usual. Aanya stood at the notice board, her badge glinting faintly as the Registry Core updated their last job.

  Marin leaned against the wall, fiddling with a hammer strap.

  Before they could choose another posting, a shadow fell over them. A scarred adventurer in worn leathers looked them up and down.

  “You’re the kids who handled the boar yesterday?” His voice was rough, but curious.

  Aanya straightened. “Yes. Provisional members.”

  He grunted. “We’re short on hands for a rift patrol. Nothing too deep — just a watch on a minor tear west of the forest. You in?”

  Marin eyed him. “You’re asking two provisionals?”

  “You’ve got spirit,” the man said. “And a hammer swing that people are talking about. We’ll handle the real danger. You just back us up.”

  Aanya glanced at Marin. Her pulse raced, but the thought of stepping closer to a rift made her heart leap. “We’ll do it.”

  Marin sighed. “Of course we will.”

  ***

  The forest west of Rivermarch should have been quiet. Instead, the air thickened the deeper they walked. The trees leaned unnaturally, their bark blackened in streaks as though something had bled through.

  At the heart of the clearing, a ragged oval shimmered between two splintered stumps — a wound in the air, pale blue light spilling like smoke.

  “Minor tear,” the scarred adventurer said. “Stay sharp. These things leak pests sometimes.”

  But Aanya’s bracelet pulsed hard against her wrist, faster than it ever had. Her throat tightened. “Something’s wrong.”

  The words had barely left her mouth when the tear rippled. With a sound like claws scraping glass, three beasts spilled through.

  They weren’t small like leeches. These were wolf-sized, bodies bristling with jagged growths of crystal, eyes burning white.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  The adventurers cursed and surged forward. Steel clashed, sparks flew.

  Aanya raised her sword, forcing her breath steady. The blade flickered faintly, mana running along its edge. One beast lunged for her — she slashed, the glow biting deeper than steel alone, but too shallow. The creature shrieked and slammed her to the ground.

  “AYA!” Marin’s hammer came down with a crack, knocking it aside. She dragged Aanya up by the arm. “Focus!”

  Another beast circled, growling low. Marin stepped in front of Aanya, hammer raised, but two more claws raked from the side.

  Desperation clawed at Aanya’s chest. She screamed, gripping her sword with both hands, and the bracelet flared. Light surged along the blade, brighter than ever before.

  She swung — not with skill, but with raw terror. The strike cut through one beast, leaving a burning wound that hissed and split the creature apart.

  The others faltered, enough for the senior adventurers to finish them off with practiced precision.

  When silence finally fell, the rift shimmered once and then collapsed, sealing into nothing.

  Aanya staggered, the sword slipping from her hands. Her breath came ragged, her arms trembling violently.

  The scarred man crouched beside her, eyes sharp. “That spark… not bad. But power without control will kill you faster than any beast. Remember that.”

  Marin pulled Aanya to her feet, steadying her. “She remembers. And she won’t be fighting alone next time.”

  Aanya nodded weakly. Her sword still hummed faintly, as though alive in her grip.

  For the first time, she felt the thrill of victory and the cold edge of fear twined together.

  This was no errand. This was the rift.