The tavern was loud—too loud for how tense her shoulders were. Heat from the hearth at the far end soaked into the air, mingling with the din of half-full mugs and too-loud laughter.

  She paused just inside, letting her eyes adjust. One hand stayed tucked into the fold of her coat, fingers tight around the satchel strap. This wasn’t a place to linger—not with her nerves taut from hours of tension and three earlier system pings that hadn’t stopped gnawing at the back of her mind. And now—another.

  [+482 XP Gained – Combat Contribution Detected]

  That made four total. She shifted her weight subtly, drawing up her interface with a few flicks of practiced thought. Larry’s status window appeared beside her vision, hovering clean and familiar. Her eyes scanned it with a tight focus.

  Health: 2581 / 2612

  Only a few points lost. Not a major drop. Whatever he is tangleling with, it hadn’t hurt him much. Maybe just some territorial beasts or hungry strays trying their luck. And knowing Larry, they hadn’t gotten far.

  Still, she hated leaving him. Hidden outside the town, tucked behind dense brush and stream-thick woods, Larry was too noticeable now that people might look for her. But the thought of him waiting alone in the wild sat like a weight in her gut. She hated she had other things to worry about than her lovely companion.

  She moved toward the bar, weaving between tables of off-duty guards, dusty travelers, and townsfolk. She tried not to draw attention. Just another courier on the job. But her thoughts were elsewhere. Jorran. She hated how her chest tightened at the name.

  Rion had given her the job. Deliver the scroll and package to a man named Jorran—no other details. And now she couldn’t stop wondering: Was this the same Jorran Hal Rellen mentioned? The man he told her to bring the cube to? She really, really hoped it wasn’t.

  Because she didn’t want to get dragged any deeper into whatever this was. The cube, the dungeon. She wasn’t a soldier or a hero. She was just someone trying to hit level 100 and earn her place in the Maker’s Guild. But the cubes… they weren’t just dangerous. They hold potential.

  And Tessa didn’t trust anyone with power. Who was to say if she handed the cubes off, they wouldn’t just pocket them and use them for their own goals? The dungeon had the potential to destroy a town. No one would have been able to close it had they not found the cube.

  So maybe—just maybe—it made more sense to keep them. To hide them somewhere remote, out of reach. And maybe, one day, open one. Somewhere no one would find. Let Larry loose inside it. The XP gain from even a small dungeon’s worth of monsters might be enough to push her leveling to new heights. And with him growing stronger every day... She didn’t let herself finish the thought.

  She reached the bar. “I’m looking for someone named Jorran.”

  The bartender didn’t ask why. Just pointed outside. “Green shutters by the cistern,” she said, wiping her hands on a towel. “He’s usually home around this time.”

  Tessa walked past open windows, and the sound of wind chimes catching the breeze. The houses here were simple but well cared for—wood bases, tiled roofs, fresh paint in the shutters.

  The house she found had just that—green shutters, a neatly tended window box, and a polished brass knocker shaped like a curled vine.

  She rapped her knuckles once. The door opened a few heartbeats later. The man behind it looked to be in his fifties, with a composed, approachable face, short-trimmed beard, and a loosely buttoned tunic. Inspect told her he was a warrior of unknown level in the hundreds. His eyes flicked over her body, then back to her face.

  “Courier?”

  Tessa nodded and held out the scroll and small cloth-wrapped bundle.

  He smiled and stepped aside. “Come in, please. No need to stand on the stoop.”

  She hesitated for only a breath, then followed him inside. The home was warm and tidy, the kind of place that felt like it had seen time—not dust. Shelves of books lined one wall. A small pot of tea steamed gently from the hearth.

  He led her to a modest sitting room and gestured for her to take a seat. “Won’t take a moment. And you came all this way.”

  Tessa sat, fingers curled around the edge of her coat. He set the bundle aside but unrolled the scroll right there at the table, humming softly to himself.

  She tilted her head just enough to read it, expecting… something. But the contents were plain. A requisition form. For a bulk order of wool socks. Standard issued requisition, nothing custom. She blinked at it.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  He glanced up, catching her expression, and chuckled. “Seems odd, doesn’t it?”

  She didn’t answer, but her silence must’ve said enough. Jorran gave a shrug and signed the bottom of the scroll. “Rion and I have a little side channel. Socks are hard to come by in volume this far south. Guilds charge too much. Easier to order through a back route.”

  Tessa let that sink in. Socks. Just like at the outpost. Back then, it had been a similar request. Only now it didn’t feel so harmless. She didn’t reply. Her hands tightened slightly in her lap.

  Jorran smiled. “You’re welcome to rest here for a moment before heading back down. Not often we get couriers from the capital.”

  Tessa stayed seated. Watching him. The scroll lay partly unrolled on the table between them. Socks. Just like the last delivery at the outpost—another oddly mundane item wrapped in layers that felt like anything but.

  She kept thinking about the Vein. The bloom caverns. The chaos. Rellen’s quiet urgency when he’d handed her a name and told her to go. The message had been clear enough: Find Jorran and give him the cube.

  She’d run while he stayed behind. She still didn’t know what had become of him. Whether he’d escaped or died—or if he’d done something else entirely. And this man sitting across from her... she had to be sure. Maybe he could help Rellen.

  “Is your last name Hal?” she asked.

  Jorran didn’t answer right away. He didn’t flinch, didn’t frown—but she could see the shift. A flicker of tension, subtle but unmistakable. His fingers, resting casually on the table, went still. His expression changed little, but the focus behind his eyes sharpened like a knife unsheathed.

  “Where did you hear that?” he asked, voice still calm, but lacking the earlier ease.

  She kept her reply even. “Just something I heard.”

  “From Rion?” he asked, sitting a little straighter. “Did he give you that name?”

  His tone wasn’t accusatory, exactly. But there was urgency behind it now—measured concern paired with suspicion.

  Tessa shook her head. “No. I got it from Rellen.”

  Jorran sat back, exhaling softly. The tension didn’t vanish, but it changed. Turned inward. Calculating. He gave her a more careful look now, like she’d shifted into a different category altogether.

  “I see,” he said.

  “I traveled with him for a bit,” Tessa lied, watching him closely.

  Jorran raised a brow, but didn’t interrupt.

  She kept her voice even. “We were both in Veilcross when things went wrong. A dungeon opened in the middle of the town.”

  Still no reaction. Not really. A small nod.

  “And then people attacked us,” she added, leaning forward slightly. That earned a pause.

  Jorran didn’t stiffen, but his eyes narrowed just enough to notice. He tapped a single finger against the edge of the table. Once. Then stopped.

  “Attacked you how?” he asked, voice soft.

  “In a cave inside the vein,” she replied. “Two of them turned on the rest of the group. Rellen and I were the only ones to get out. Afterwards, they followed us to the bridge that leaves Veilcross. Rellen stayed and fought them, giving me the change to escape. I haven’t seen him since.”

  Jorran looked away for a moment, toward the closed shutters behind her, then back again.

  “He told me to find you,” she said. “To tell you what happened.”

  “I see,” he said again.

  Tessa waited for something more—for a follow-up question, or some sign he planned to leave. To go after Rellen. To even ask if he was alive.

  But Jorran just folded the scroll beside him and set the pouch of silver more neatly on the table. That was it. That was all.

  Tessa leaned back, lips pressing into a thin line. “You’re not surprised.”

  “Dungeons appear where there’s instability,” he said mildly. “And there’s been no shortage of that lately.”

  “But the attack—?”

  Jorran tilted his head. “I’m not surprised trouble found Rellen.”

  The silence that followed wasn’t warm. Tessa looked away, jaw tightening. She’d expected… something. Urgency, concern. Something. Rellen had trusted her with that cube. Had jumped off Larry to protect it. And now she was here, doing partly what he asked—and his contact didn’t even flinch. Maybe that was part of it. Maybe people like Rellen and Jorran didn’t rattle easily. But still—it felt wrong.

  Tessa sat forward, hands flat on her knees. “He told me to find you. To tell you what happened in Veilcross. And all you have to say is ‘I’m not surprised trouble found him’?”

  Jorran didn’t blink. “I’m only saying it doesn’t surprise me. Rellen’s always had a talent for finding unstable ground.”

  “Then maybe ask if he’s alive,” she said, sharper than before.

  That made Jorran pause—but only slightly. He tilted his head again, eyes narrowing a fraction, then spoke in that same maddeningly even tone. “If he is, I imagine I’ll hear from him soon enough.”

  “You’re not even going to check?” she asked. “Not even a message to send, no contact to reach out through?”

  Jorran steepled his fingers. “Rellen is many things. Reckless. Quiet. But never careless. If he told you to find me, then he’d already planned for contingencies. Whether he’s alive or dead doesn’t change the fact that he acted in accordance with his role.”

  Her jaw tightened. “That’s cold.”

  “It’s practical,” he said. “Which is how he operates. Which is why he trusted you, apparently.”

  Tessa’s lips parted, but she didn’t speak right away. It was strange—how that comment landed harder than she expected. Not because it was praise, but because it felt like a dismissal. Like Jorran was already closing the door behind everything that had happened. Like Rellen had been a line in a report, not a person.

  She stood slowly. “You don’t even care if he made it out.”

  “I care,” Jorran said. “I just don’t worry. Rellen knows how to disappear.”

  Tessa exhaled through her nose, steadying herself. “He trusted you enough to point me here.”

  “And you did what he asked. You delivered your message.”

  That was it. Done. No questions. No real concern. Nothing else.

  Jorran gave a faint nod. “Safe travels, courier.”

  Tessa didn’t reply. She walked to the door with that same bitter tightness still wrapped around her chest. At the threshold, she slowed—just for a moment—hoping, foolishly, that he might say something more. Ask for details. Press for direction. Indicate that he meant to go after Rellen at all.

  But when she glanced back, Jorran was already rolling the scroll closed again, his expression unreadable. As if the conversation had ended the moment her message was delivered. Business as usual.